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thepaperpanda · 1 year

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A Little Snowball Fight || Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: Your friendship with prince Igor dates back to when you cared for him as a child. One day, he introduces you to Ivar, the Viking prince from the far north. After first courtesy, a little snowball fight ensues. At the end of the meeting, Ivar makes a very interesting offer that you cannot refuse

Warnings: none

Word count: ~ 2215

Authors: Fenrir & Cass

A/N: today’s prompt: Snowball Fight

Ice skating was one of your favourite pastimes, so you couldn't say no when young Igor invited you to skate - skating was especially fun when you had someone to skate with.

"Do you want to meet my new friend?" Igor asked, holding your hand as you glided across the ice together.

You glanced at him while humming softly. "Does this refer to this Viking prince? What was his name again... Ivar?"

After nodding immediately, the boy raised his head up and waved at Ivar.

Standing on top of a deck that provided a vantage point, Ivar nodded gently at Igor who was ice-skating below. Despite spending almost an hour outside, Igor was far from fatigued; Ivar was impressed by his stamina. The wooden railing was a perfect place for Ivar to rest his folded hands while watching Igor and rethinking his own matters.

In the same way that Igor did, you waved your hand to attract strangers' attention as well. Despite hearing about Ivar, you never had a chance to speak with him personally.

He kept his face straight, attempting to stay polite as he waved his hand back at you.

Soon, Igor pulled you off the ice so the two of you could join Ivar on the deck.

Ivar's lips were tinged with a smile as Igor and his female friend joined him. "Hope you are tired now, my boy," Ivar said as he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "There is nothing better than returning to the warmth of the indoors when you are freezing."

"Who said I was freezing?" Igor asked, raising his eyebrow and tilting his head as he looked at Ivar. "I am fine, but I would like you to meet Y/N. I used to be cared for by her when I was younger."

Ivar's blue eyes inspected your face and features with ease. A tone of pride permeated his introduction, "My name is Ivar, Ivar the Boneless."

"My name is Y/N. It is nice to finally meet you in person," you said, bowing your head a little.

The smile on Igor's face was contagious. "You see, Ivar? I told you I have a very pretty friend."

In response, Ivar nodded his head a little, his smile growing wider. "There is no doubt in my mind that you did not lie in the slightest."

As Ivar's eyes slipped over your body, he met your gaze and had no choice but to admit you had the most stunning eyes he had ever seen on a woman.

You gazed at Igor, then grabbed some snow to rub into his cheeks, causing him to whine and laugh simultaneously. "As I told you before, Igor, be careful not to say things like this. It is rude to suddenly speak in such a manner."

It would have never occurred to Ivar that you would be the first to initiate a fight. He watched the scene with amusement. His question came out of the blue moments later, "Are you Russian, Y/N?"

A smile spread across your face when Igor hugged you, hugging him back you looked at Ivar "Как думаешь, красавчик?"

"My first impression of you was that you're one of the most temperamental women I've ever seen."

Laughing softly, you bend down to whisper something into Igor's ear; a smile spread across Igor's lips. Looking back at Ivar, you smiled. "Thank you so much for your kind words. I really appreciate them."

Observing Igor interacting with you, Ivar slowly cocked his eyebrows. "My lady, aren't you aware that whispering in company isn't considered polite?"

"Aren't you aware that strangers shouldn't listen to certain matters?"

In spite of a temperature way below zero, Ivar's soft chuckle that escaped his lips was accompanied by a little cloud of steam. "That's right."

"Don't worry, I didn't say anything derogatory about you, or did I?" You teased, looking directly into Ivar’s eyes.

"She said she loves your eyes," Igor revealed your little secret without hesitation.

Ivar observed the two of you and decided not to comment on what Igor said, instead he nodded his head. "Maybe we should take a stroll back inside?"

Igor shrugged and said, "The two of you can go inside, I'd like to stay a little longer."

As you sighed, you looked at the boy and shook your head; he was impossible to get fatigued easily.

After politely waiting for you to move, Ivar followed you to the stairs and down on the ground level.

Taking a look at Ivar, you asked, "How's it going here for you? I hope Igor isn't bothering you too much."

The man shook his head eagerly, "No, he isn't bothering me at all. Igor is such a wonderful young man. He reminds me of myself when I was his age," Ivar's tone faded into silence. "Are you from here or did you come from somewhere else?" He asked, smoothly changing the topic.

"It's funny how you are so curious, aren't you? I was born and raised in this place, so I can truly say that I am from here," you replied politely, raising an eyebrow.

While walking through the ice and snow covered path, Ragnarsson listened to your words. A crutch-dependent person found walking in such conditions to be a challenge, so Ivar was stopping from time to time.

A worried look crossed your face as you looked at the young man. "Ivar, I am sure all the snow must be a great burden for you. Can I help you in any way?"

Your polite pleas for assistance went unanswered. Who did you think he was? Although he was crippled, he was capable of walking on his own, so he didn't need any kind of assistance. "Isn't our winter beautiful?" He asked, again changing the topic.

The hint was taken and you did not press any longer. "Despite the cold, it's beautiful. As usual."

"Do you like winter?"

"Well, not really. It's cold, and I don't really like skating because of it, but it's still fun."

"What other winter activities do you fancy?"

As you walked behind Ivar, you quietly grabbed some snow and moulded it into a ball and threw it at Ivar's back. "Snowball fights."

The moment Ivar was hit in the back, he turned around to look at you. "Seriously? Have you thrown a snowball at me? Isn't it kind of silly for someone like you?"

"You asked what winter activities I enjoy, so I showed one to you," you gave him a shrug in a form of response. "You don't have to be so stiff."

Ivar stuck his crutch in a snowdrift and slowly leaned forward to collect some white fluff, which he formed into a ball before throwing it skillfully at you - the ball hit your left shoulder. "I'm not stiff, Y/N, as you put it. I just prefer observing and planning."

"Isn't that exactly what you called? I observe and plan how to..." You threw another show ball at Ivar, hitting him in the stomach, "... Successfully throw snowballs at you."

Observing you, Ivar cocked his eyebrow and threw another ball of snow at you, hitting your cheek with it this time.

You gasped and wiped snow off your face. Your response was, "Oh, you! You're dead!" By saying this you made a big snowball and got ready to aim it.

When Ivar observed you making a snowball, he wondered how a dodge could be made.

The snowball was thrown right at his face as a way to pay him back.

As Ragnarsson couldn't dodge, snow got into his eyes when the ball struck his face. With his vision blurry, Ivar took one tiny step back and flopped on his butt in the snow as he tried to wipe his eyes.

You ran up to him, whispering, "Oh, gods! I should have been more careful!"

Ivar's facial expression initially displayed anger and disbelief; eventually, these emotions dwindled and he laughed as a smile spread over his lips. "Okay, that wasn't what I expected. It was a strong hit, Y/N."

As you wiped snow from his cheek, you quickly began to apologise. "Thank you for not being angry with me, but I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have... Your legs..." Your voice was nothing more than a tiny whisper as you looked at his face. "Forgive me, please."

He caught himself staring bluntly into your eyes - they were huge and had the most beautiful colour he had ever seen. He had a burning sensation in his cheeks from your hands as you slowly rubbed snow off of him; he discovered your palms were so warm and felt cosy. "It's fine."

"You seem to be getting warm... Are you feeling sick? Oh! I shouldn't keep you out too long today, it's cold," suddenly, you started to panic.

Your sudden solicitude surprised Ivar, who raised his hand to signal you to remain silent for a moment. “First of all, it is cold, yes, but I am accustomed to it, so no worries there. Second thing, stop worrying, nothing wrong is happening. Deal?"

Biting your lip, you nodded slowly, still feeling bad and hoping you didn't hurt him. "Let me assist you with getting up."

After a moment of thinking, he accepted your hand and slowly stood up. "Thanks."

A smile of apology appeared on your face as you squeezed his hand. There was still a feeling of guilt in your heart.

Another snowball aimed at Ivar's shoulder struck him suddenly. "For Valhalla's sake, what was that this time?" The young man grunted, looking around, only to see Igor gathering snow into his hands already, forming another ball with a smile on his face.

Looking at Igor, you blinked and shook your head. Before a snowball hit you right in the face, you managed to utter only a quiet, "No, Igor, don't..."

Using his forearm to block another snowball aimed at him, Ivar shouted, "Better stop it now, dear boy!"

"Come on, Ivar! It's fun! You can practise your combat skills with me now! Let's fight!" Igor shouted enthusiastically.

Ivar, instead of responding, slowly leaned down, made a huge ball from the snow he gathered, and then threw it at Igor, hitting him in the face. "It's for aiming at the lady."

A snowball thrown by you hit Igor before the boy could prepare another snowball to throw at Ivar.

"It's time to show the little one what it's like to start a fight with the adults!" You briefly looked at Ivar, a mischievous grin dancing in the corners of your mouth.

Ivar was throwing ball after ball at Igor, occasionally chuckling to himself as he did so.

As soon as you did what Ivar did, poor Igor was scrambling to surrender.

Ivar slowly limped closer to you with his crutch in hand and asked you quietly after leaning closer to you, "Y/N, are we accepting his surrender?"

Keeping your eyes on Ivar, you hummed softly. "It seems like it might be a good idea. What do you think?”

"I agree."

"Then I agree too," you nodded at Ivar, then looked at Igor. "It's time to get inside before we get sick."

After looking at you for a moment, Ivar gave you a nod of approval. Although Ivar wore a thick fur coat and a hat to keep himself warm, he began to feel cold under the clothes. "The idea is good, Y/N. We could get some warm drinks."

Before Igor joined you, Ivar offered you his shoulder after shaking the snow off his thick fur. "Shall we, Y/N?"

In response, you accepted the offer, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and discovering with surprise that his shoulder was very well-built and seemed to be very strong, even with the fur covering it.

Biting inside of your cheek, you tried not to get distracted by thoughts that crossed your mind. "With pleasure, Ivar. Also, I’d like to point out that your combat skills are also impressive, you have a very sharp eye,” you praised him, feeling the blush spreading across your cheeks.

In spite of his crippled appearance, Ivar was far from being an idiot, and he immediately noticed a slight change in your behaviour after you got closer to him. He suggested politely, "I was wondering if we could enjoy a pint of mulled wine and discuss our likes and dislikes a little more?"

Your eyes never left his as you tightened your grip on his shoulder and gently nodded your head. "It will be my great pleasure, Ivar the Boneless."

Both of you didn't seem to notice Igor standing right beside you, hands resting on his hips. "It is not my intention to interrupt your lovely exchange of views, but I am hungry, and I know Oleg will send guards looking for us if we don't return inside soon. I know you two get along really well, but let's leave it for later, shall you?" The young prince gasped and walked to the front door of the palace. “I can’t handle their teeth-rooting sweetness,” he whispered to himself.

Ivar rolled his eyes after listening to Igor's rant and led you back to the palace. "Having Igor between two fires tomorrow might be a wise idea if he continues to behave this way."

#ivar the boneless #Ivar x reader #ivar x you #Ivar the Boneless #Ivar the Boneless fluff #Ivar fluff #Ivar the Boneless x reader fluff #Ivar the Boneless fic #Ivar's heathen army #Ivar Ragnarsson #vikings #prince igor #vikings x reader #vikings fic #vikings fanfiction #vikings fluff #vikings ivar #paperpanda winter writing event #writers on tumblr

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ivarandersen · 22 days

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I’ve started watching Vikings again! And getting the inspo to write that fic I started like… 5? 6 years ago? … You know, back when I had free time and I didn’t have to pay for health insurance T_T

(All my old tags are still queued up and ready post so that makes life easy lmaooooo>

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bouncehousedemons · 1 year

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Milk

Rating: E Pairing: (Modern) Ivar the Boneless x female character (second person, no use of y/n) Warnings: Smut, cunnilingus Word count: 450

Summary: Ivar hates milk. Until he tastes it on your lips.

Read the full fic here.

#vikings fan fiction #vikings history #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #ivar fanfiction #ivar's heathen army #vikings ivar #ivar x you #vikings fic #vikings history channel #vikings fandom

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underscorewriting · 2 years

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Destiny | Part two

Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Warnings: heated make out, fluff

Part One

1076 Words

The woods were quiet. Peaceful. They hid their beauty between the tall trees. Her breath was going fast, her smile still on her face, she doesn't think it even left, ever since she saw Ivar. The time went by, waiting for him she begun to feel a worry settle in her stomach. What if he wouldn't show up? She'd look like the biggest fool.

Hearing the leaves rustle around her she released a breath she didn't know she held. As she looked at the prince she saw him walking with his crutch. A frown was on her face, thinking about how uncomfortable it must be for him to walk with it in the woods. "Good morning, my prince." With a smile she bowed her head down slightly.

Ivar chuckled softly shaking his head. "Even though I do love how it sounds, coming out of your mouth. Just call me Ivar." A blush crept onto her cheeks as she nodded. "I'll remember that, Ivar." She smiled at how his name left her lips. A small smirk was on his face as he watched her reaction to saying his name.

"So, why the woods?" As they started walking, her nerves came to an ease. "It's quiet. Not many people come out here and if they do then they don't stare." The lines on his forehead told her that he got stared at a lot. "I wouldn't stare..." She whispered quietly lowering her eyes to the ground. The prince shook his head softly. "But you did, back in the great hall before we talked. You stared at me."

A deep blush made it's way onto her face. "You saw that?" He nodded slightly, watching her carefully. "I apologize deeply, but it wasn't what you think it was." Ivar was confused. Why should her staring be different, everyone tried to talk themselves out of it, but he was ready to listen to it this time, because it was her trying to talk herself out of it. "I didn't stare, not out of pity, I mean. I thought you were quiet attractive."

His eyebrows shot up. This changed the situation a lot. A smirk found it's way onto his face as he watched her even more careful this time. "I didn't have any bad intentions or thoughts behind it, I promise." She gave him an apologetic smile.

Without knowing it she pushed his ego more than what was healthy. "So you thought I was attractive, huh?" The smirk didn't seem to leave her face, holding his head high. The girl lowered her head, secretly liking the teasing tone of his voice. "I did, my prince. After talking with you the feeling deepened." It was her turn to tease him. A soft innocent smile on her face as she stopped to lean against a tree, watching Ivar closely.

The boy turned to her, looking her up and down. "You're quite the tease, aren't you?" His thoughts of the night before coming back into his mind. "Honestly? No, but I'm happy it's working." She giggled shyly. "It's working wonders..." He whispered walking closer. His eyes not once leaving hers. Again, she felt like she was drowning in his eyes. Drowning in the ocean behind them. His free hand was on her hip as he pushed her up against the tree. A quiet gasp escaping her, only encouraging him to continue.

The smirk just wouldn't leave his face as he looked down at her. "I'll be sure to tell your brother how I had to look up to you..." Not knowing what to say in the situation the girl thought back to how Sigurd interrupted them the night before. The prince chuckled softly, leaning his forehead against hers. "You're too precious for your own good, love." He kissed her cheek softly. She could feel a burning sensation the moment his lips met her cheek, almost letting another gasp escape her.

"I should let you go, protect you from myself and save you from being so perfectly ruined by me." He squeezed his eyes shut, almost like he was in pain, his forehead back against hers, letting a sigh escape him. "But I can't. I want to be selfish, have you all to myself." Her hand found his cheek. "Ivar, you can have me." Her voice was sincere, he never felt like he did right now. His heart was beating out of his chest. "No, not that." His face twisted in disgust for a second. "Oh..." She was about to pull her hand back.

He was quicker, grabbing her wrist and placing a kiss on her palm, placing it back onto his cheek. "I didn't mean it like that. Well, maybe that too, I wouldn't mind laying with you, pretty girl. But I mean being with you. I want to have you in any way." His eyes opened again, looking at her with an intensity, that if she wouldn't have been pushed against the tree, she would've got weak knees.

His mouth placed kisses everywhere, her neck, her cheek, her forehead, but they wouldn't go near her lips. "I need your answer." His voice was husky as he was torturing her with kiss. "Please, Ivar.." A whimper left her lips and he chuckled darkly shaking his head. "Keep those words for later, just tell me, can I have you in any way I want?" His hand wandered up to her chin, making her look up at him. His thumb pulling her lip down slightly.

She was trembling at that point, trying to stay strong, so she could tease the young prince, but her self control was getting weak. "Yes! Yes, Ivar, I'll let you have me in any way you want to. Just please-" A loud gasps escaped her, but it barely left her before Ivar kissed her hard, pulling her closer, caressing her cheek. His crutch long forgotten on the floor. His hand grabbing her hip, pushing himself up against the tree in secret as well. As they both needed to breath, he pulled away, keeping his forehead against hers.

A smirk was on Ivars face as he mentally pictured how shocked Sigurd will be, when he walks into the great hall with his newly found woman by his side. He would marry her, he knew it. That's what he meant with having her in anyway he wants.

He could already picture them dining with the gods in Valhalla. Gods, how he couldn't wait.

#ivar's heathen army #ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #ivar lothbrok #ivar fluff #ivar fanfic #ivar the king #vikings #vikings fanfiction #ivar x y/n #ac valhalla ivarr

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mrsalwayswrite · 2 years

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Fjaka (Ivar x reader)

Summary: You dwell on the thought of how sometimes doing nothing with Ivar makes you the happiest.

This is my entry to @doctorwhoandfairytaillover short and sweet challenge! Congrats on all your followers! I'm so happy for you!

Fjaka (Croatian)– "the sweetness of doing nothing"

The book quote at the beginning of the story comes from one of my favorite books 'Mara, Daughter of the Nile', page 210. (if anyone is interested)

Words: 699

Warnings: Pure, sugary fluff. Soft Ivar. One swear word.

Triumph swept over Mara, giving way immediately to something so much stronger and deeper that every other reality dropped sway. She found herself clinging to him fiercely, caught up in an emotion more compelling than any she had known. For once she did not plan or scheme or use her wits, since it was quite impossible. She did not even think.

You closed your eyes for a brief respite, allowing the emotions of the story to flow over you like a gentle stream. The character Mara could not place a name to this new feeling carving its way into her being. But you could – love.

Lifting your gaze, you stared at the man sitting on the couch with you. Your legs stretched over his lap, his arms rested on them as he held a game controller. His radiant blue eyes glued onto the TV screen, playing some video game that frequently made him swear and grumble about getting his brothers back. Laying the book in your lap, but careful not to lose your page, you rested the side of your head on the leather couch, admiring your fiancé.

You thought back to your own declarations of love. It was not intense or overly romantic like in the book you were reading. A slave and a lord, betraying customs and social conformity, throwing themselves into an well of hopeful love, only to hit rock bottom.

No, your own declarations were much simpler, more tranquil. It happened laying in bed next to one another, the morning sunlight spilling over you two. Neither of you moved, even as both of your alarms had blared repeatedly already. Instead, words of contentment, satisfaction and love filled the narrow space between your bodies. Nothing profound. Nothing world-shattering. Just an acknowledgement shared in that moment, solidifying the dedication and love between the two of you.

He must have sensed your gaze on him, since he spoke without removing his eyes from the TV screen. "What?"

"Nothing."

This time he quickly glanced at you before turning back and humming his disbelief.

"I just…I guess I was just reminded of how much I love you."

"Are they fucking in your book right now?"

"Ugh! No! That's not why!" You smacked his shoulder lightly with the side of your book, not that the book was actually thick enough to do much damage. "I was just….thinking."

With a quirk of his lips, he paused his video game. Using a single finger under your chin, he guided your lips to his. The kiss he placed was so gentle, so tender, you were unable to do anything but melt under his touch and lean into him wanting more. No confection, no sugar, no candy or chocolate could ever be sweeter or more satisfying than this kiss. For it delved deep into your soul, further wrapping you in the knowledge of his complete and utter love for you.

Ever so slowly, he drew back to kiss the tip of your nose and then turn to his prior spot. "I love you too." After that, he returned to his game, unpausing it only to then colorfully swear about some idiot on the screen.

The smile on your face could easily rival the sun in its brightness. With that adorning your face, you opened your book back up, returning to the characters and their newfound, forbidden love.

You were happy in the contentment, the simplicity of your life with Ivar. It may not be riveting or dramatic. Certainly nothing that would ever be written about or made into a song. But that did not matter. It was these quiet moments shared between the two of you that were your favorite, and his. Unlike the characters in your story, whose love was like a threatening storm; the love shared between you and Ivar was an oak tree – strong, resilient and peaceful with deep roots.

Your life with Ivar had its ups and downs, like all relationships, but it was these moments where you seemed to be doing nothing together….they were what spoke loudest of the happiness surrounding you two. The joy of companionship and just being with one another. A simplicity that is profound.

Tag List:

Vikings (all)

@youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @geekandbooknerd @adrille888 @quantumlocked310 @errruvande-2-0

Vikings-Ivar

@breezykpop @frankie-undead-dame

#mzwrites #short and sweet challenge #vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar's heathen army #ivar #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x reader #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern vikings

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nanahachikyuu · 2 years

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five-star hotel // modern!ivar x reader (part one of two)

Summary: sometimes, love results in heartbreak. That’s just life, and there was nothing she could do about it. But what if the reason for her anguish was also the very same one that brought her so much bliss?

Pairing: ivar x reader

Type: miniseries

Warnings: angst, heartbreak

Word count: 3.325

Music insp.: Hotel Caro by Baco Exu do Blues & Luísa Sonza (at this point, let’s just assume me picking Brazilian artists is the norm).

A/N:

This is the first time I’ve written for Ivar, but the moment I listened to this song I immediately related it to him. I guess my brain is just wired to connect anything angsty with our dear Ivar The Boneless. It’s very different from what I usually write, and I am aware that this trope has been done a thousand times, but I wanted to give it a try

Please, listen to the song! I know it’s in Portuguese, like most of the songs I pick, but I believe it’s possible to feel the heartbreak just from the rhythm. Nevertheless, I loosely translated some of the lyrics that inspired the fic.

Gentle reminder that English is not my first language, and this was not proofread.

I'm thinking of you smoking a cigarette An empty bathtub, an expensive hotel Honestly, I’m tired If it was you who made a mistake, why do I feel guilty? (hotel caro by baco exu do blues & luísa sonza)

Y/N was over-the-moon excited when Ivar shared his plans with her.

She had been invited by her boss to work with her for a trimester at another branch and had jumped at the opportunity. But, as amazing as it was for her career, it’d keep her away from Ivar for three whole months.

Altogether, they had been apart for two months now, and there was still one more to go. So, when Ivar called to share the news, how he had already booked a hotel room for them, the best available in town, she was over-the-moon excited with the possibility of seeing her boyfriend earlier than expected, and, better yet, have a romantic weekend away with him.

Y/N had gone all in on his idea, even spending more money than she normally would in a dress she just knew he’d love. She had spent the hours before they’d meet getting ready, choosing the lingerie he loved to see her in, putting on makeup that made the colours of her eyes stand out, even watching a YouTube tutorial to master the technique. When Y/N looked at herself in the mirror of her small temporary bathroom, she felt powerful. She was ready to slay, and Ivar Ragnarsson was her chosen victim.

It never crossed her mind the fact that Ivar hadn’t contacted her the whole day, neither to confirm or cancel their plans.

She arrived at the hotel room early, wanting to surprise him. She wanted to see the look on his face when he walked in the room and saw her already there, waiting for him. Also, she missed him like crazy and couldn’t wait to see him.

There was an armchair in a corner of the room, and she moved it, so it was facing the door. Grabbing a bottle of wine she found in the minibar, she sat on the chair, legs crossed, and a glass in hand. The clock on the wall told her it was almost eight pm. Ivar would be there at any moment.

So, she waited. And waited. And waited some more.

It was nearing midnight when Y/N finally accepted that he was not going to show up. By that time, she had finished almost two bottles of wine, still sitting on that same armchair, staring blankly at the door. By then, she had stopped listening to the elevator, no longer perking up to every noise out in the corridor. Was that the sound of his crutch hitting the floor? Well, if it was, she didn’t care anymore.

The one thing she could not believe was that she was, once again, in that situation. She had trusted him with her heart one more time, and he had stomped it to pieces. Again.

She knew Ivar. She knew him better than anyone else, even better than his overprotective mother. She knew that if there had been an emergency, he’d find a way to contact her. If he couldn’t reach out to her himself, he’d send one of his brothers, he’d find a way.

Y/N remembered a specific episode a couple of months into their relationship, when they were supposed to have dinner at their favourite Greek restaurant. But he was over an hour late and all her calls kept going straight to voice mail. That was the first time she thought he had abandoned her. However, just as she was about to leave the restaurant, hungry and desolate, she spotted Ubbe. Ivar had had a minor accident that afternoon, and was in the hospital ever since, just as a precaution, but since he didn’t have his phone and couldn’t contact his girl, he had sent his brother to find her.

But this, left stranded in a hotel room, in a foreign country, when he was supposed to meet her? She knew better. He had every intention of leaving her. This was part of a thought-out plan, a meticulously crafted one. Honestly, she couldn’t even blame him for this one. What was it people said? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…

The first time Ivar pulled something like this, she had cried her heart out for days.

Y/N was telling her friends and family about this amazing guy she had met. All her friends noticed how smitten she was, walking around with heart eyes. Even her mother pointed it out when she brought him to a family festivity. Ivar had won over her mother and aunts the second he walked into her childhood home, carrying a small bouquet for each one of them. Y/N believed she was living the fairy tale she loved to read about as a teenager. Until she wasn’t.

One day, he simply disappeared. Ivar stopped answering her calls and replying to her texts. He had disappeared with the blink of an eye, as easy as that. When a week had gone by without any news from him, she decided enough was enough. After work, she went straight to his apartment. Y/N was going to make him talk, weather he wanted it or not. Civilized people had conversations and she was going to make him act like one for once in his life. However, when she got to his building, the doorman said he wasn’t home, and hadn’t been for the whole week. But he did leave a box for her to pick up, with all the stuff she had left at his place inside, she later found out.

That night, Y/N had gone back to her apartment and cried into the night. And the following days. She didn’t tell a soul about what had happened, how could she? How could she face her family and friends after everything she had told them about Ivar? She believed he was her very own Prince Charming, but it turned out he was just another jerk. Who believed in fairy tales, anyways?

For days, she regretted going by his place. She should’ve known better. If he wanted to talk, he’d come looking for her. All her life, she had judged her friends who always wanted to talk to their partners, to tell them how much they had hurt their feelings. Y/N never understood that need. She’d always argue that they knew that, they just didn’t care. Not receiving a message is also a message, right? Well, just look at how the tables have turned!

However, two weeks later, he came back. She had gone to the movies, her first outing since he left, and when she came back, he was sitting by her door, a huge bouquet of her favourite flowers in hand, one for each day they were apart. For hours, she let him apologise, beg her for forgiveness. He had gotten scared, he got cold feet. He loved her and didn’t realise how much he needed her until it was too late, how he couldn’t live without her. They could go away together, just the two of them and rekindle their relationship. But please, please, she had to forgive him, she had to accept him back!

It was the first time she had ever seen him cry, and the last one. That’s what had gotten to her, she had to admit. Seeing Ivar shed tears for her touched a place in her heart she thought he had damaged forever. So, she agreed. Y/N accepted him back into her life with the promise that he’d never do something like that ever again. If he had doubts about their relationship again, they’d talk it out, together, as a couple.

And just like that, they were back into their very own fairy tale. It was like they were never broken up at all. Their love was stronger than ever, and nothing could tear them apart. Or so she believed.

She just couldn't understand how they ended up here. Again. Y/N kept repeating the last months of their relationship in her head, trying to find the moment where things had changed. Trying to understand if she had done something wrong. However, she knew there wasn’t one. During their time together, Y/N hadn’t been anything but faithful. She knew Ivar had his own issues, even understood some of them; he also required attention, so much attention. Ivar needed someone who understood he wasn’t the easiest person to deal with, but that would devote themselves to him, nevertheless.

So that’s what she did.

Y/N loved Ivar, and there was never a day that went by where she didn’t tell him that. She’d repeat it to him until he’d get embarrassed, the tips of his ears turning red. She’d point out every little detail about him that mesmerized her. Be it his looks, his intelligence, his devotion to her and others he cared about.

She loved it when he’d frown his eyebrows when reading a book. How he’d always pick her favourite movies for them to watch before she even said anything. The way he’d defend her against his brothers’ mocking, even though she was pretty well capable of doing so herself.

In return, she’d keep her fridge stocked with his favourite drinks. She’d send his favourite lunch to his work every time she sensed he was so deep in his work that he forgot to eat. When his legs were hurting too much, Y/N would have his medicine ready, his work brought to him, his bed, or her bed, if they were at her apartment, clean and comfortable. She’d do all that without acknowledging his condition, because she knew how much he hated to feel incapable.

She hadn’t done anything wrong; she was sure of it. So, why did she still feel guilty?

What did he tell her once? Oh yeah, he might break a bone, but he could never break a promise. Oh, well. Apparently, she wasn’t included in such promise. Who would’ve thought? Not Y/N, for certain.

Lingerie the colour of late afternoon Who taught you the way to me? Lying is also hiding the truth Why didn't you take care of me? My darling, loving you so much is not good But it makes no difference I don't want your presence Don't trade me for anyone What is fighting good for? May you win

“Weren’t you going away this weekend?” Hvitserk asks his brother.

They were having their usual night out, just the brothers, and it wasn’t unusual for Ivar to tag along, even if he claimed to hate the city’s club life. But he was almost certain Ivar had mentioned something about travelling to meet his girlfriend.

Ivar takes a moment to realize his older brother was talking to him. But when he does, he just glares at the man.

“Trouble in paradise, I see”, Hvitserk remarks. Honestly, he was surprised it didn’t happen sooner. Ivar had the bad habit of pushing away everything that was good for him.

“Mind your own business, brother”, Ivar answers back, already regretting his decision to join his brothers at the bar.

“What did you do, Ivar?”, Hvitserk tries again.

“Why is it always me that does something wrong? Why couldn’t it have been her?”, the dark-haired brother rebuts back.

Hvitserk doesn’t bother with an answer, just stares at his little brother, one eyebrow raised. Sometimes he couldn’t believe the audacity of Ivar. The nerve!

The last thing Ivar wants is to talk about his relationship with Y/N, that being the very reason why he joined his brothers. Luckily for him, Björn got Hvitserk’s attention, distracting him from the matter momentarily.

The weight of what he’d done was heavy on his shoulders. He couldn’t shake off the image of her alone in that hotel room. When the hotel management had called him to let him know that his guest had arrived, like he had instructed them to do, Ivar wanted to cry. He wanted to get on the first flight, make up an excuse about his delay, and spend the rest of the weekend apologising to her.

But he couldn’t.

He was so sure what he was doing was for the best. Why postpone the inevitable? Just so he could have a few more memories to replay when he was laying by himself in bed, missing her warm body pressed up to his? No. Ivar wasn’t like that, he wasn’t one to avoid pain, life had built him like that. Thus, better than wait for his heart to be broken, he anticipated the result. He ended the relationship before it had the power to end him.

Ivar was about to open a bottle of whiskey to drown out his thoughts when he remembered his brothers were meeting up that night. At the time, anything seemed more appealing than spending the night by himself, thinking about her. So, he jumped at the opportunity. But now, sitting at a crowded bar, still nursing the same beer Björn had handed him when he arrived, and, worst of all, facing his brother’s scrutiny, he regretted his choice. He should have stayed home.

“What crawled up your ass?” Sigurd asks suddenly, noticing the sour look on Ivar’s face.

“Fuck off, Sigurd” Ivar snarks back. He was already at his tipping point, and if Sigurd wanted to start a fight with him, so be it. He needed a way to let out some steam anyways.

“I just asked a question, no need to get offended” his brother argues back, but the little smirk on his lips makes it clear that he knew what he was doing. He wanted to get a reaction out of Ivar, and he was about to get one.

“Come on, guys. Let’s chill, ok?” Ubbe, always the peacemaker, intrudes on their exchange.

Ivar could feel Hvitserk’s stare burning on the back of his head. He knew that his brother had not fallen for his bullshit attempts to distract him. He could never lie to his brother; he’d always see straight through him.

“Hey, Ivar” Hvitserk calls, “I’m not feeling too good. Think you can follow me home?”. It was clearly a lie. The man, being the designated driver, hadn’t touched a drink all night.

He debated his options for a second. It was already past midnight, and it would be next to impossible to get an Uber home. He could walk, but his legs were a bit sore from spending the day on his feet. But most of all, even though he didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he also didn’t want to stay at that bar a second longer.

“Yeah, sure” is all he responds, before standing up, gripping hard to his crutch.

The drive home is silent, and he’s thankful for that. Hvitserk had the habit of opining on his life whenever he got the chance. But, as they grew older and closer, he also learned when not to interfere, and Ivar would be forever thankful for that, especially on a night like this. Not that he’d ever tell his brother that.

“Do you want me to go up with you?” Hvitserk breaks the silence when they arrive at Ivar’s apartment building.

“No!” he answers abruptly. As much as he was thankful for the get away ride, he didn’t wish to spend anymore second with his brother, because if he did, he knew he’d cave and tell him exactly what had gone down that night, and he was not up for the speech that would follow. “I mean, no, but thanks”, he tries again, in a much gentler tone, one that surprised Hvitserk as much as his abrupt response, if not more.

“Hey, Ivar” he hears his brother call for him, just as he was about to leave the car. Standing by the passenger door, Ivar bends down so he can look at him.

“Whatever happened, between you and Y/N, I know you two can work it out. Just have a little faith in yourself, ok?”.

Ivar doesn’t answer, just closes the car door, and walks towards his apartment.

It was hours later when Ivar finally dragged himself to bed. After he had gotten home, he wandered around the apartment, purposely avoiding his bedroom, the one place he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep Y/N out of his thoughts. They shared so many good memories inside those four walls, and now it felt like they were all coming back to haunt him. How was it possible that a place where once he felt so much peace, now left him suffocated?

Now, laying in bed by himself, Ivar wondered if what he did was really the best choice. If he had followed through with his plans like he had initially planned, he’d be with her right now. They would’ve gone to dinner, where she’d share with him all the news about her job, and he’d complain about working with his family. Then, they’d make their way back to the room, where he’d show her just how much he had missed her. Finally, she’d put on his discarded shirt, and lay in bed with him; her hands running through his dark hair, softly lulling him to sleep. He never had a good night of sleep as good as the ones he spent with her.

The images were playing out so vividly in his head, it was like it was happening right in front of him. Ivar could feel the tears burning his eyes, so he finally let them go. He’d let himself cry, just for tonight. Tomorrow, he’d put his armour back on, and move on with his life.

The fact that he kept himself away from what would’ve been her side of the bed wasn’t helping. But Ivar couldn’t bring himself to lay on her side. He was sure the pillows would still smell like her, even though it had been months since they last shared the bed, and the sheets had been changed many times ever since. Reaching out, he touches one of the pillows, fingers running through the soft material.

He never understood how someone could sleep with so many pillows, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to put them away. It was like a part of him expected her to come back. As if one day he’d wake up and find her sleeping peacefully by his side, hands tucked beneath her head, lips parted, hair disheveled. Every time he woke up first, he’d stay in bed, admiring her features, imagining what would it be like to wake up next to her every single day, for the rest of his life.

He knew he had made the right decision. Loving someone as much as he loved her couldn’t be considered healthy, and he knew their tragic fate was just around the corner. One day, Y/N would realize the mistake she’s made. She’d finally understand that he wasn’t who she deserved. She’d get tired of putting up with his sorrow ass and leave.

Or worse.

She could be lying. What if all this time they were together she was lying to him? What if all the times she had said she loved him, she wasn’t being truthful? What if she had already met someone new? She had spent the past couple of months by herself in a different country… Weren’t there a million rom-com movies about that trope?

Honestly, the possibilities were infinite. So many things could happen. Just look at his father’s history. Ragnar married twice, had children, built a family. Both his wives devoted themselves to him, and still he wasn’t satisfied. Nowadays, he was just a shallow of the man he once was. He had so much and still couldn’t find happiness. What if that was his fate too?

No, he couldn’t end up like Ragnar. He was better than that. And that’s exactly why he did what he did, he had to remind himself. It was better to end things by his own terms than live by the volatility of other people's feelings. It was better to suffer now, when he was prepared, than be taken by surprise, be blindsided by her.

So, that was it.

Tonight, he’d let himself feel the pain of the breakup. He’d allow himself to remember all the reasons why he loved her so fiercely. All the little things that made her so unique in his eyes.

But tomorrow, it must come to an end.

Tomorrow, he was going to move on with his life, whatever it takes.

Taglist: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

#vikings imagines #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless imagines #ivar imagines #modern ivar #ivar's heathen army #vikings fanfiction #vikings history #vikings #ivar the boneless #nanahachikyuu

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the-girl-in-the-box · 1 year

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Not Today XLII

A/N: And we're finally back with another update! I posted on my last update to Can You Imagine? That I was going to try and get on a system of posting an update weekly, rotating which fic I'm updating, which means this will probably be updated about every three weeks going forward. So that said, I hope you all enjoy being back to this story, and I hope you'll stick around for the coming updates- I told you this wasn't abandoned XD Skål!

Summary: When Ivar takes the throne of Kattegat, Lagertha flees to Wessex along with Björn, Ubbe, Torvi, and the Bishop Heahmund. There, they seek the aid of King Alfred. This aid comes in the form of his sister, Aethelind, who agrees to travel to Kattegat and try to reason Ivar, who she spent some time with during their youth, when her grandfather King Ecbert hosted Ragnar Lothbrok in their castle. Now, she is the only hope for Lagertha and her supporters to retake Kattegat from Ivar the Boneless.

Masterlist

Asta felt like she was going to explode. Talking to Olaf had brought up all the grief she’d felt over the years, everything she felt she had locked away when she left Kattegat, and now it was threatening to burst out of her if one more thing happened to bring it out of her. That’s why she needed to talk to Ivar- if anyone would know how to stay sane in the face of everything they were facing… Well, it wasn’t him, but he could help her sort through things at the least.

She let Hvitserk lead her back through the town quickly, indulging herself in the protective arm he’d wrapped around her shoulders. How would she be able to stand it if something were to happen to him, or to Ivar? She’d already lost so much… Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle it- and not like this, when she wasn’t sure she’d handled what had happened so far just yet. If she went through it in her mind- the father she hadn’t known, Heahmund, the father she had, Aethelred, her mother, Freydis, Lagertha, Bjorn… And those were only the deaths. What about Alfred, and Torvi and Ubbe who she hadn’t heard from in… who knew how long at this point?

Her mind turned back to something her beloved Freydis had once said to her, after the death of the Bishop Heahmund. When she had confessed her heart had broken with news of his death, Freydis had told her that her heart would repair. But that had been before everything else she had lost. She wasn’t so sure anymore that was true. Very suddenly, she held out her hand and held it to Hvitserk’s chest. “Wait,” she said, and he looked down at her confusedly.

“Princess?” he questioned. “What is it?”

“I think I need to be alone,” she confessed. “I need… I need to think. Please.”

“Of course,” Hvitserk replied. “Where will you be should we need you?”

Asta swallowed, looking out over the mountains. “I’d say wandering, but that wouldn’t be of any help, would it?” she said with a quiet chuckle. “There’s a clearing not far from here, take the path out of Vestfold and follow it to the east. I’ll be there.”

Hvitserk nodded a little. “Be careful,” he warned her. “Keep your sword about you at all times, just in case.”

“I will, thank you, Hvitserk,” she replied. “Will you let Ivar know?” She didn’t worry about clarifying, sure enough of him to believe that he would know what she was asking him to tell his brother. And happily, she saw she was right, as Hvitserk asked no questions. Instead, he kissed her on the head and wished her well before heading toward the palace.

Now all alone, Asta started down the path she’d indicated to Hvitserk, keeping an eye out as he’d requested. Besides, as little as she trusted Oleg and his men, she didn’t want to take any risks.

In the days since Asta left Wessex, she had noticed something about the way she’d picked up Viking customs. She didn’t pray the way she once did, not anymore. She had grown up praying in church, on her knees in the pews, hands clasped together and head bowed. Now, she just… prayed. The rituals had all stayed behind in England, and in their wake was left comfort and familiarity, a relationship as opposed to religion. Freedom she hadn’t once known.

Unlike Kattegat, Kiev had been stifling. She had to hide so many things there, for fear of what Oleg may do if he learned, even having to resort to hiding away to say a prayer. It wasn’t because Oleg had something against Christians- on the contrary, the man claimed to be one himself- but rather because everything he believed about her would begin to unravel if he learned this one truth about her. Asta knew Oleg would never understand how a wanderer who came to Kattegat, and became the wife of Ivar the Boneless, had become a Christian in her time there in Kiev- and to not partake in the rituals of the Kievan Rus would simply make him question things even more. She knew if he continued to pull on that thread, it would inevitably lead him to the truth- that she was English, and nearly everything he knew about her was a lie. No, she couldn’t allow that.

Thus, she waited until she was well enough alone to pray, and even sought out a hidden place to do so. Somehow, she found that just stepping into that space released the restraints she felt she now lived her life in, and she let out a long breath as she felt the peace of it wash over her. “I don’t know what to do,” she confessed quietly, her voice nearly a whisper. “My life has changed… so much in the past years, Lord. My family are all but gone, my past buried so deeply inside me that I can hardly tell where the truth ends and this lie begins. Add to that how miserable I feel with each and every lie I tell, and I just… I’m so lost. Telling my story to King Olaf has brought it all back, every part of myself I’d silenced, and I know now that I cannot continue on this path I’ve set myself on. But what happens to Ivar and Hvitserk, if I reveal the truth? They’ve known me for years now, won’t Oleg know this? Know what they’ve done in helping me to conceal this? What will he do to them for covering the lie? I need You to show me what I am meant to do, to give me the strength to do it. I’m so afraid, Lord… of losing anything more than I already have.” She swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “Help me overcome these fears. Bring me back to You. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.”

The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted Asta, and she turned back to see Hvitserk running down the path. “Asta, you need to come now,” he said, urgency lacing his voice. “They are going to kill King Olaf.”

Asta’s eyes widened as she processed the words, and she blinked a few times. “What are we doing?” she questioned. “What does Ivar want us to do?”

Hvitserk shook his head. “Nothing,” he answered. “He wants us to attend the execution, but we will not interfere. He wants to keep Oleg’s trust still.”

As little as Asta liked the idea of just letting this happen, she nodded. “Alright,” she replied. “Then we should go.”

They nearly ran back to town, to the docks where the execution was to take place, so they wouldn’t miss any of it, and by the time they wormed their way up to the front Asta could see that Olaf had already been tied down to a chair. Ivar, Oleg, and Igor were there as well, standing up at the front to watch the execution. Hvitserk moved to lean against a post nearby, while Asta came to stand beside Ivar, watching as two men stepped forward and began to pour oil all over… the wood piled around the chair? Oh. It was then that Olaf began to speak, and Asta’s eyes widened.

“There is someone beside me,” he said.

Oleg frowned. “There is no one beside you,” he said. “You are all alone.”

“No, there is someone beside me,” Olaf reiterated. “Although I cannot see Him, I know He is here.”

“How do you know, you old fool?” Oleg demanded.

“Because He speaks to me,” Olaf said. “I hear His voice.”

Asta swallowed as she realised what he meant, and a chill ran down her spine. Anticipation began to build in her. Listen.

Hvitserk glanced over at Asta, noticing the suddenly attentive gaze she had pinned on King Olaf. He hadn’t confessed to this earlier, but he’d heard the tale end of her prayer. He knew now what the woman was struggling with, so he asked, “And what does He say?”

Olaf answered, “He says, ‘He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live. I am the resurrection and the life. I shall walk beside you. Always. Always.”

Asta was stunned. I shall walk beside you. She glanced over at Ivar, who she could tell understood the point of Olaf’s words, and had grown concerned. Why, she couldn’t say, but she knew what it meant to her. She had to do what was right, and the rest wasn’t up to her.

Still, she was distracted from trying to figure that out by Oleg’s interruption, as he instructed Igor, “Don’t listen to him, get on with it.” When he shoved the boy forward, a torch in hand, Asta felt anger boil up inside her. He was really going to make a child do this? He had the gall to order a man’s death, but not to go through with it on his own? To do it himself? She wasn’t sure her opinion of him could get any lower than this. Then, she noticed how anxious Igor clearly was, and her heart clenched.

“This isn’t right,” she murmured from beside Ivar. “He’s a child…”

“I know,” Ivar whispered in return. “But we cannot stop it. Not without raising suspicion.”

She swallowed again as she heard Olaf trying to comfort Igor, even as the young Prince was preparing to end his life. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, though in Asta’s experience that rarely actually helped.

“I can’t,” Igor replied.

“Think of me as already dead,” Olaf advised. “Nothing more can hurt me. Not the thunder, nor the deep swell of the waves, nor yet, the tongues of fire.”

Igor turned back to Ivar, as if silently asking whether or not he should go through with this, and while Ivar nodded to encourage him, Asta glanced over at Oleg. He was clearly quite unnerved by this, seeing that Igor preferred Ivar’s encouragement to his own, and that, at least, brought a small smirk to Asta’s lips as she turned to watch the execution again. Let him stew on that. Children rarely sought strength from the person who pushed them too far, anyway.

The boy knelt down in front of Olaf, lowering the torch toward the pyre built at the King’s feet. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” Olaf replied. “My lands are in order, and I am ripe for Heaven.”

He offered Igor a reassuring smile, and Igor finally lit the pyre, before standing and beginning to back up. Ivar reached out and wrapped his arm around him to pull him back, protecting him from the flames that grew quickly to ensnare Olaf within them. To the surprise of most there, however, the man lifted his hands as if in prayer, and gave nothing even close to a cry of pain as he was consumed. Oleg shook his head and stalked off.

For once, his behavior left Asta unbothered as she watched Olaf’s life fade before her eyes. She hadn’t known him for very long, but she had quickly realized how wise he was, the depth of his knowledge, and the fact he had asked the question that had been the catalyst to her awakening was something she couldn’t simply overlook. It hadn’t taken very long at all, but King Olaf had become quite an influential figure in her life. But the Lord worked in mysterious ways, she knew, and all paths crossed for a reason. She found herself thanking God for Olaf’s life, and for the chance she got to meet him, swallowing as she blinked to clear the wetness from her eyes. The crowd began to disburse, and Ivar asked her if she was coming along with him, Hvitserk, and Igor, but she answered that she wanted to be left alone for a while.

She stayed until there was nothing left to stay for, a lone figure on the dock.

Eventually, Asta returned to the Great Hall, and she quickly became aware of Ivar at her side. “My love,” he whispered, disguising it with a kiss to the side of her head. “Are you alright? Hmm?”

She nodded slightly and leaned her head over against his. “Just tired,” she answered. “I don’t think I’ll stay for the feast tonight. I need to get some rest, think about some things.”

Ivar frowned, not convinced at all that Asta really was ‘just tired’ as she said. But, he wasn’t about to force the truth out of her in front of this crowd, so instead of trying he simply nodded and kissed her head again. “I’ll come and join you soon,” he promised. “And I’ll bring you food and drink. Go rest.”

Asta smiled up at him lovingly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “You don’t know how much of a comfort you are to me.” She leaned up to kiss him softly, and rested her forehead against his, taking a deep breath as if she could draw some sort of strength from him. Ivar returned her kiss before pressing one of his own to her forehead, and releasing her.

She wandered off to head to their room, stopping to press a kiss to the top of Igor’s head and telling him she was proud of him, and when she got in there, the sounds of the feast now distant, she felt a weight come off her shoulders. Running a hand through her hair, she went and flopped down on the bed. It was then that her door opened, and she looked up to see who had come in.

If there was anyone she had expected to see, it wasn’t Igor. Still, she smiled a little when she saw him, sitting up to greet him. “Igor,” she said. “Can I help you with something?”

“You did not seem like you were well when you left the feast,” he told her. “I wanted to come and see what was wrong.”

Asta let out a touched sort of sound and smiled at him, reaching out to invite him to come and sit with her. “Oh, sweet boy,” she said affectionately. He did as she offered and settled in beside her, so that she started to run her fingers through his hair. “I’m more worried about you than you need to be about me. How are you after today?”

Igor swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to kill him,” he said. “I’m not even sure what he did wrong.”

This brought forth a sigh from Asta, who ended up laying back with Igor and holding him close still. “Nothing,” she said. “Your uncle wanted him dead because he feared the loyalty King Olaf could inspire in the remaining Vikings. This sort of thing isn’t exactly uncommon in war, but…” She paused and gave a soft sigh. “It wasn’t right, especially not the way it was done. Your uncle made the decision, and he should have seen it through himself- not passed it off to his young nephew. I can’t tell you how sorry I am he did that, and how much I wish he hadn’t.”

Igor shrugged a little as if he wasn’t all that bothered. “He said he wanted to teach me how to be strong,” he said. “So I had to be the one to do it.”

“Killing a man doesn’t make you strong, darling,” Asta told him. “Although you are strong for enduring what your uncle made you do today. But killing in itself isn’t what defines strength. In fact, your uncle showed a lack of it when he didn’t kill King Olaf himself.”

“He did?” Igor asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.

She hummed as she nodded. “He did,” she confirmed. “Never forget this, Igor. If you ever decide to execute a man, you must always be willing to carry it out yourself. If you aren’t so convinced it’s the right thing to do that you have the strength to do it, then it isn’t right. Do you understand?”

He nodded at her. “I think I do,” he confirmed.

It was just then that the door opened again, and Ivar was coming in with a plate full of food, a cup balanced carefully on it and leaned up against his arm. He blinked a few times when he saw his wife and Igor laying together. “Did I miss the invitation?” he deadpanned.

“Yes,” Asta teased him in response. “I was just telling Igor how he couldn’t trust you anymore, and he could only trust me.”

Ivar raised a brow and asked Igor, “Is that true?”

“No,” he replied. “She was teaching me about strength.”

“Ah,” Ivar said. “This makes more sense. I did not think she would betray me that way.”

Asta chuckled softly. “Mm, but he could be lying, you’ll never know,” she joked.

Ivar smirked and brought her food and drink to her. “Then I suppose I will just have to trust you,” he answered, and once the food was sat on the small table beside the bed, leaned down to kiss her softly.

That was when Igor gave a fake gag and got up. “I’m going to go now,” he announced, causing Asta to fall into a fit of giggles. “Enjoy… that.” He shuddered and then walked out of the room.

“Should we have stopped him?” Asta asked, looking up at Ivar and trying not to laugh, especially when he shrugged.

“I wanted to see if you were doing better anyway,” he said. Her laughter died down instantly. “Mm, you are not. Hvitserk told me you had left the village to pray. You only leave for that when something is bothering you. What is it?”

Asta swallowed and looked away from him, sitting up slowly as she took in a deep breath. This wasn’t a conversation she had expected to have this way, but… she had asked for a path, hadn’t she? The time had simply come to take it. She looked back up at him, and said, “I think we need to talk.”

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @crashbyers, @heavenly1927, @pomegranates-and-blood, @lotr-got, @dekusdante

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

#ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #ivar x original female character #ivar x christian!oc #ivar's heathen army #alex hogh andersen #vikings #vikings history channel #history channel vikings #not today #chapter forty-two

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oddsnendsfanfics · 1 year

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This one makes me think of Modern Finan. Or Modern Ivar 🤷‍♀️

#mark rowley #alex høgh andersen #oddsnendstlk #oddsnendsvikings #ivar the boneless #finan the last kingdom #finan the agile #the last kingdom #let's be danes ⚔️#vikings #ivar's heathen army #Spotify

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therealcalicali · 2 years

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Favorite Ivar looks & scenes - Part I

#ivar #ivar the boneless #ivars heathen army #vikings

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ceridwenofwales · 1 year

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I hope you haven't stopped completing the writing.

This is frustrating every time I look for a new update

If you have been bored

please just say that

I mean a sequel

Alpha and Omega:

As a reader, I completely understand the frustration of waiting years (literally) for an update.

As a writer, it's just a combination of real life challenges and lack of inspiration, not boredom. I have a timeline of events planned for the story, but it's difficult to find energy and inspiration to fill in the holes of the almost written chapter.

I still have the intention of adding more chapters to Alpha and Omega, but I won't give a deadline anymore as life throws some curve balls at us.

#vikings #fanfic: alpha and Omega #ivar the boneless #ivar x moyra #ivar x ofc #vikings fanfiction #ask: alpha and Omega #ivar's heathen army

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thepaperpanda · 1 year

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Affected By Music || modern!Ivar the Boneless x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: Although Ivar dislikes the Christmas songs you listen to, you somehow convince him that they're not that bad.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1435

Authors: Rouge & Cass

A/N: today’s prompt: enjoying the Christmas music

You sat at the table, trying your best to cut a neat Christmas tree from the thick, green glitter paper you held in your hands - the task was far from easy as the paper was thick enough to be difficult to cut through, even with the kitchen scissors. You were listening to Last Christmas by Wham! from a radio playing quietly, standing on the windowsill. Throughout the song, you weren't even aware you were rhythmically rocking your foot.

"For Fuck's sake!" Ivar yelled, walking to the radio and turning it off.

Since the morning, the song had been drilling into his brain - he was sick of it. "I will throw the radio out the window if I hear this cursed song again."

After his outburst, you stopped cutting the shape in the paper. You rolled your eyes and said, "Don't be a drama queen today. It's Christmas time! Cherish it! Christmas songs are all over the radio right now in the end, so better get used to this."

"Sweetheart, I see what you mean, but Christmas is only like two days, right?" Ivar looked at you annoyed. "And they start playing this shit on repeat a month before. It's annoying."

"It's not annoying," you replied, putting down the scissors and paper. When you got up, you walked to the windowsill and turned the radio on once more. "... but the very next day you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special," the song was crooning on the radio.

In a frown, Ivar pulled out the plug to make sure the radio wouldn't play again. "I'm serious Y/N. I'm tired of hearing this song everywhere."

Leaning forward, you pulled the plug from his hand and reconnected it. "That wasn't fair! Why are you always so angry and grumpy?"

"Because it's annoying. When I'm annoyed during a game, you tell me to put on my headphones," Ivar commented. "And I do it because I respect you, so it's your turn to respect me as well."

It annoyed you when Ivar acted like that, and unfortunately he was prone to it quite often. "There's no comparison between the two. Whenever you play your games, you become nervous and show your worst traits. I respect you, but it also goes the other way, doesn't it?"

"So you can open Spotify and put on headphones, sweetheart," Ivar said with a wry grin dancing in the corners of his lips.

It hurt you to hear Ivar's words; you had worked hard to create a festive atmosphere in your shared flat, and Ivar had never been so wry toward you as he was now. "Whenever the weather cools down, I can't wait to hear Christmas music. I even listen to it in the summer when I craft or while I read, because I like this type of music, but if you don't like it, I'll switch to Spotify," you said, unplugging the plug and putting it down on the wooden floor. As you returned to your seat, you got your JBL headphones, put them on, and paired them with your phone.

It was just a stupid song and you acted like you would be locked up in the house, so he rolled his eyes.

While he was happy that it was quiet again, you started humming whatever you were listening to soon after.

You hummed with a smile; your notes fell carefree in the air around you as you were rocking your feet again, this time shaking your head from time to time.

As Ivar let out a heavy sigh, he walked towards you and placed his hand on your back before leaning forward to kiss your lips.

The reaction was unexpected for you, but you returned the kiss. You looked at your boyfriend after removing your headphones. "What was that for?"

"To stop you from humming that cursed song," he raised an eyebrow after explaining.

After exhaling, you made a sad face and rubbed your temples. "Ivar, Ivar." You stood up and went to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice before returning to your seat. After setting the glass on the table's counter, you wrapped your arms around his neck. "You know what?"

As Ivar wrapped his arm around your waist, he muttered, "What?"

You began singing and rocking your hips from left to right, "Last Christmas I gave you my heart..."

"... But the very next day you gave it away," he sang along, shaking his head. "You are an annoying brat, you know that?"

You rubbed your nose against his and reminded him, "This is exactly why you fell in love with me."

"Honestly? I'm not sure if I did the right thing," he said with a sigh, furrowing his brows a little, smirking as he looked down at you.

You climbed on your tiptoes and stole a kiss from his lips, discovering with amusement that his mouth and tongue tasted like the gingerbread you baked the other day. While humming the song, you asked him playfully, "Not too much frosting on the cookies though?"

"Shut up," Ivar scoffed, wrapping his arms fully around you. Slowly, he began to rock with you, humming the song along. "They were a bit sweet."

"Despite their sweetness, you ate them all," you giggled, rubbing his nape.

"Yeah, but I'm sure I'll get sick of their sweetness," he joked.

While you rocked to the beat of the music, you nuzzled his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat.

Before saying anything, Ivar rocked with you for a moment. "I'll let you listen to those annoying Christmas songs if you keep being so cute."

"I will listen to them even if you will be angry with me," you said. "The sweeter you are, the more I would like to apologize to you."

"You're a brat," he sighed and squeezed your hand tightly. "Turn on that radio before I change my mind."

After clapping your hands, you immediately went to do what he told you.

He crossed his arms over his chest, hoping you wouldn't actually turn it on.

Soon, Jingle Bells filled the room with its rhythm and you began bouncing around to the music.

Facepalming, he already regretted that he let you turn the radio on.

Your arms reached out to catch his shoulders and soon you were dancing with Ivar.

As Ivar's hands moved down your back and rested on your ass, he murmured, "I'll never understand why people may consider all those silly, thematically similar songs during Christmas time. They are so fucking annoying!"

"Once the Christmas spirit fills you fully, honey, you will stop finding them irritating and you will realize they are sweet and they help spread that spirit all over," you told him, wrapping your arms around him.

"If you say so," Ivar shrugged lightly, but when Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas Is You played on the radio, he closed his eyes and hissed. "No, no, not this fucking one! Sorry, Y/N, but you'll never convince me Mariah isn't annoying. Can you hear this voice? It's so shrill!"

After observing Ivar's reaction, you giggled and tugged on his thick, dark hair, causing him to raise his head, enabling you to kiss his jawline. "I have a little, angry kitten here, haven’t I?”

A sigh escaped Ivar's lips. "We could do something nice together and I'd be happy to let those songs play in the background. What do you think?"

"Ivar, what do you have in mind?"

Smirking mischievously, he tugged at your shirt. "Don't make me beg for it, you know too well."

Obviously, he meant some cuddles with a "happy ending", but you had a cunning idea. I'm sure you'll help me bake gingerbread again to compensate for the fact that you've eaten all of it apparently, and I promised Hvitserk that I would deliver a portion of it to him this Christmas."

Slowly, Ivar's eyebrows rose, and he grunted deeply. "Oh, okaaaay! But later you're mine, in all the fucking ways. And fuck Hvitty, his only ability is to eat all the time, fuck.”

Your lips were tinged with a smile. "That's true, but it's so sweet in my opinion."

"That's cute in your opinion, but you scold me every time I eat anything you cook! And you somehow don't make heart-eyes while speaking about it!” Ivar seemed to get offended.

Ruffling his hair, you asked him to follow you to the kitchen. “Let's stop talking and start baking or I’ll sing All I Want For Christmas Is You all day long!"

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