#'that was a joke' yes sure sure and I am king of norway

[littleragondin]

"I want to eat you."

TIW?! SIR?! Boy said "I've been patient and restrained and apparently far too subtle the last ten episodes, it's OVER I am CLAIMING that cardigan wearing, keyboard playing little cook and that's IT."

#I fucking chocked #like child #p l e a s e #Por little stunned blink qdsmlkfj #'that was a joke' yes sure sure and I am king of norway #(let's see how that plays but I just. I have no one to scream with here so on the blog it GOES) #Tiwpor #My School President #words

[literaryuppsala]

You kept me like a secret (But I kept you like an oath)

Title: All too well (10 min version) Taylor’s Version by Taylor Swift.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader (fem) 

Summary: You and Ivar had a secret relationship. 

Words: 3997

Warnings: Here we go again fellas, into the unknown beautiful world of erotica, an ocean of pining in anticipation and sexual tension, two idiots (probably) in love, smut (p in v), unprotected cause it’s 825AC (if you’re living in 2022, buy a condom you moron), there’s oral (f receiving), there’s face riding and ab riding too, dirty talk (sort of), subby!Ivar (he’s a warning too). And I guess that’s all, either way proceed with caution. 

A/N: Won’t repeat the other notes, just know I deleted my other account (stylinsonliving) and all my works will be reposted here, any doubt send me an ask. My asks are always open, feedback is always welcome and my mistakes are always mine.  

Filth below the cut, enjoy ♥:

***

Queen Aslaug was known for her abilities to throw memorable feasts. The stories of these celebrations crossed the borders of Kattegat and flew around all Norway; she was the gods’ favorite, known to be the one Queen who never displeased any of them, honoring their names and sacrificing for their own sake. 

So, when Ragnar and Lagertha came back victorious from another raid in the kingdom of Frankia, the Queen did what she was expected to do: a feast to honor the gods and thank them for that victory, a celebration of gratitude because her lovers and children came back to her unharmed. 

The night was just starting when all of the people of Kattegat gathered around inside the great hall and as the blazing flames danced around casting abstract shadows on the walls, you walked through the tables filling their cups with good mead, giving the remaining survivors your best, empathetic smile, because you knew they had lost so much and you unconsciously wanted to give them comfort. 

For the first time in months the eight main chairs in the hall were all occupied. Queen Aslaug was glowing, smiling through her eyes while Queen Lagertha whispered something unintelligible into the shell of her ear. King Ragnar chatted excitedly with his men, laughing out loud at some of their terrible jokes. Their sons were there too, sitting side by side and surrounded by girls, the Ragnarssons were all smiles. The young princes; Bjorn, Ubbe, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar; had all the attention they wanted and basked in their fame, using to their own advantage when It came to having a warm body to warm up their beds. 

“Hey, thrall-” A familiar voice cut through the fog of thoughts in your brains, catching your attention immediately and making your eyes wander back to the thrones, back to where the voice came. “Fill my cup.” He ordered raising his cup, looking at you with a smug smile plastered on his face. 

Ivar was the youngest of the Ragnarssons, the most difficult one, or so they said. His dark blue irises locked with yours after he gave you his order, a cocked eyebrow showed his impatience to you having your body shivering in response. 

“Yes, my prince.” You mouthed, slowly approaching the throne with your head down.

It wasn’t unknown for you how your body seemed to be drawn to Ivar’s like a moth to a flame and you knew that the closer you got, the dangerous it got, but, just like the moth that died in the fire, you couldn’t get away from his grip, nor even wanted to.

You kept your gaze down as you filled his cup, avoiding eye contact even If every fiber in your skin ached under his stare, you just didn’t want to lose any more of your control over your own body, not in front of everyone in Kattegat. 

“I am sure she has a name, brother.” Hvitserk growled, looking at you, his features showing his true concern with your feelings, even though he, himself, probably did not know your name either. 

“And I am sure it’s a stupid, thrall name.” He mocked taking a sip from his cup and then cleaning his lips with the back of his hand. “But we can always find a new, more fun, nickname for her.” 

“Ivar…” Ubbe growled, using his dark, deep tone to warn his little brother. 

You moved away shyly and went back to your previous activity: serving ale to the other men around the great hall, only this time you had their full attention on you. Once Ivar picked someone to harass, the poor soul wouldn’t have peace ‘til the end of the night, and that night he decided to choose you. His beautiful, dark blue irises crossed the great hall following your every move almost like he didn’t want to lose sight of you. 

“Little bird.” He yelled after a while. “Her voice is so soft, almost like a little peep from a tiny bird.” 

“Stop tormenting the poor girl, Ivar.” Ubbe said, this time his tone was more stern. 

“You keep having soft spots for the servants, brother. That’s why you ended up fooled by one.” He teased, taking the cup to his lips one more time, his gaze discreetly back on you again. 

The discussion started, the ragnarssons could never share a table without diving into an argument that would never lead them anywhere. At that point, their fights became a type of entertainment to everyone in Kattegat, really. 

Ivar’s smart mouth would always have the final blow, too good at spilling poison against his brothers, using their weakness against themselves, truly getting under their skin to the point they would just stand up and leave. It wasn’t different that night, eventually all of them left, but the youngest Lothbrok stayed, a cocky smile on his lips after he ‘won’ another fight against his brothers. 

But you knew better. Under that hard cover, behind that cocky smile, you knew the real him. A secret you guarded with your own life, meaning: If you ever let that spread, you would be a dead woman. Either way the danger of the situation seemed to only increase your excitement, you were never scared. 

As the great hall started to get empty, your heart started to hammer against your rib cage so loud you feared it could be heard by the drunk men remaining at the tables. But you kept cleaning, grooming, everything to ease your mind. 

“Little bird.” Ivar finally called you, making you stop and look at him. “Leave it and go wait for me in my chambers.” 

You only nodded, the other thralls looking at each other as you left the wet cloth you had on your hands on one of the wooden tables and walked towards Ivar’s bedroom. 

The rumors about Ivar’s ‘problem with women’ spreaded around very fast just like a wildfire in a forest. So they didn’t quite understand what could possibly happen between the two of you behind those walls. But you? You were never the type of woman who believed in rumors anyway.

You sat on his bed and waited patiently until you could hear his crutches on the floor, a smirk creeping on your face immediately. Ivar pushed the door open, his eyes finding yours as he carefully entered, closing the door behind him, making sure that would stay locked. 

“What took you so long, my prince?” You asked carefully.

“The fact that I'm a cripple?” He cocked an eyebrow, an angry look on his face as he stared at you sternly, uselessly trying to intimidate you. 

“That’s not how you answer me, is it?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Shut up and help me with my crutches.” He growled as he walked towards the bed and sat by your side. 

“No.” You answered quickly as you got up. “If you wanna act like a big boy, you can take them by yourself.” You walked towards the door, but before you could open you heard his voice, a whisper this time. 

“Please.” 

“Someone remembered his manners.” You stopped on your tracks and turned, walking back towards him. As you stood still in front of Ivar, he looked up at you, leaning into your touch when your hands met the side of his beautiful face. “How do you say it?” 

“Please, my queen, can you help me with my crutches?” He repeated softly. His eyes had a sparkling blue saved for these moments only, saved for you only. 

“Do you think you deserve my help after what you’ve done earlier at the great hall?” You asked sternly. 

“I- I had to.” He stuttered. “Sigurd…” 

“I am not interested in your stupid fights with your brothers, my prince.” You kneeled in front of him, taking your place between his legs. Your hands quickly grabbed at his thighs. “You know the rules.” 

“But…” You raised your hand and he stopped talking, his eyes widened a bit when you started to untie the straps that tied his crutches to his legs. 

“I am a good queen. I want my people to be as happy and healthy as possible.” You started to carefully move the crutches away. “But when they need to learn a lesson, I must be prepared to teach them, right?” 

One tiny whimper slipped through Ivar’s lips when the crutches were finally out, the pain would make him start screaming to anyone else, but not at you, never at you. He bit his lower lip, his cheeks getting flushed as soon as you started to untie his pants. It didn’t matter how many times you’ve done this, he would always feel embarrassed under your scrutiny. 

Your gaze followed the movements of your hands when you started to slide his pants down his legs, Ivar lifted his hips just enough to help you, his cock still flaccid between his thighs. He gulped when you got up and started to do the same with his tunic. 

“I am sorry.” He whispered under his breath.

“Yes, my prince, I know. And I’m going to let you show me how sorry you are.”

You made him raise his arms so you could take his tunic off, leaving him completely bare to you. His hands quickly found their way to your hips, but you slapped them away and, with a small nod, you silently told Ivar to hop up on the bed, until he leaned his head on the pillows. Without taking off your dress, you climbed into bed too, slowly crawling until you sat on your calves right next to him. 

“Won’t you…” He started, looking at your body still dressed, nervously squirming, self conscious about his own vulnerability, his naked body and his exposed legs. 

“Not yet…” You caressed his face, hand slipping down his chest ‘til his muscled abs that twitched under your palm. “My poor prince, are you nervous?” 

“You’re still dressed.” He grunted. 

“You’re not hard yet, why do you want me naked then?” 

He growled. “I wanna see you.” 

“What a needy little prince.” You mouthed, leaning down until your lips met with his. He responded instantly, clashing his mouth against yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You quickly moved away just to watch him chasing your kiss with parted lips and a broken moan. He cried and whined at the loss of your warm mouth. 

“Please, please…” Ivar begged looking at you. 

“What do you want, little prince?” You teased, fingers dangerously close to his cock head. 

“Do something. Touch me.” He moaned, his eyes following the movements on your arm, lips parting at the sight of your forefinger tracing the one popped vein on the side of his cock, from the head to the base. His head fell back on the pillows, he moaned long and loud. “I’ll never know how you do It.” He murmured. 

You smiled, your chest filling with pride knowing you were the only one to ever see him that way. His cock started to stiff as you slowly dragged your finger up and down. You grabbed at his balls and his hips bucked up, another broken moan slipping through his now kiss swollen lips, you started to massage them, laying down beside him as your free hand found the crown of his head, lips touching his already sweaty temple. 

You kissed his cheek as you started to stroke Ivar’s cock, your other hand caressing his hair. Dragged your lips down his face ‘til his jaw, then his ear lobe where you sucked harshly. He started to drip between your fingers making your palm slide more easily. His mouth hung open as he freely moaned, eyes wide shut, hips bucking up against your hand. 

“Kiss me, please.” He begged again, turning his head so he could claim your lips, and you let him. A needy, already drunk on desire, kiss. Wet and messy, just the way he liked. 

When you felt his cock twitch on your hand, you knew he reached the edge, so you stopped everything. He looked at you in shock. 

“Why did you stop?” He whispered/yelled at you.

“No cumming for you yet, my prince.” You answered softly and he whined, laying his head back down on the pillows.

His eyes followed when you brought the hand that once stroked him next to your lips, with a smirk you gave it a long lick, feeling his taste on your taste buds and moaning at the salty flavor. You hummed in satisfaction, Ivar’s little whimpers sending tiny shocks all over your body, wetness starting to pool between your legs. 

Deep blue irises looked eagerly at you, silently begging for the kind of relief only you could provide. You almost gave in, almost. Changing your position, you straddled his hips, his cock nested between your naked pussy lips as you started to grind down, spreading your slick all over his length. 

“I’m going to take what I need from you and you're going to wait until I’m completely satisfied. Only then you’ll cum.” You ordered as you stopped all movements, making him whine again as he nodded. 

The look he gave you was one of pure reverence, he worshiped you like no one ever did and you knew you had that big, grumpy puppy wrapped around your fingers. He would say yes to anything you’d ask, so you bit your lower lip thinking about a little dream of yours. Riding his abs.

Every time you saw him training or every time you gave him a nice, hot bath, you got a little too caught up by the way his abs twitched. Crawling everywhere since he was a kid, Ivar got his torso and arms so muscular it was impossible not to drool over it. You sighed as you moved up a bit until your bare pussy was pressed against his torso, his hands landed on your hips and pressed you down. Slowly, you started to grind over the firm muscles underneath you, your clit dragging deliciously over the rough skin. 

“Oh… That feels so good.” You whined, eyes closed and head thrown back. 

You covered Ivar’s hands with yours, moving your hips a little faster. The feeling was torturously good but nothing could compare to the small sounds slipping through Ivar’s lips. As you opened your eyes you met with your prince hooded look, the familiar sparkling blue, adoring you like you were Freyja herself. 

“Gods you’re so beautiful.” He whispered, making you smirk. 

“Feel how wet you made me, prince Ivar.” You huffed, knowing exactly what to say to make him forget all the mean whispers he was forced to hear every time he was out. “You’re gonna make me cum, my prince, and you barely touched me.” You moaned, your hips speeding up. 

“Please, my queen, cum on me.” He whined, eyes trained on your hips still covered by your dress. 

“You wanna watch It?” You asked breathlessly and he nodded eagerly. 

It didn’t take long for you to finally take off your gown and throw it somewhere in that bedroom. Your body now on full display for his eyes, his hands slowly going up your tummy ‘til he touched your breasts. Kneading at the flesh as your hard nipples poked his palm. You shivered as you re-started your grinding on his hard ridges of muscle, quickly finding the right pace. 

Ivar’s hands slid down your sides until he grabbed your hips again, pressing his digits on your skin in a way you knew you’d have marks the next day, not that you  cared. Little shockwaves of pleasure climbed your spine and you closed your eyes, resting your hands on his chest for balance and your tits started bouncing in front of his hungry gaze. 

It was messy. Messy and wet and filthy. Ivar’s hands kept caressing your skin from your hips, to the bottom of your back, to the sides of your ass and your lower abdomen, lower lip stuck in between his teeth as he watched in awe the way your pussy slid easily through his abs. 

Tiny little moans escaped through your lips as you were chasing desperately your own high, pleasure building in your tummy so quickly from how perfect his body felt under you, the coil forming on your lower abdomen, long mewls slipping through your lips uncontrollably until that knot snapped inside you, an insanely powerful orgasm hitting you like a storm.

You missed the way his eyes blown with lust as your pussy soaked his chest even more, too fucked out to open your own eyes. Your legs were shaking and your hips still spasmed over him while you tried to come down. 

“Look at that.” Ivar mewled, thumb quickly finding the space between his body and your pussy, touching your abused, swollen clit and making you squirm away over sensitivity. Your hand quickly met the side of his face on a hard slap. 

“Didn’t say you could touch me there.” You warned a very horny Ivar. “Clean up this mess and I’ll think about letting you fuck me.” 

You didn’t have to say it twice, without further notice he lifted your hips and sat you on his face. You gulped at the suddenness, but didn’t take long for that man to drag you over the edge one more time on his tongue, eating you out like his life depended on it. You had to hold on the wall for balance as you kept grinding on his mouth, feeling as he tongue fucked you hard. 

Ivar groaned at your desperate sounds, his tongue leaving your tight walls to sloppy lick your juices until his lips wrapped up and sucked on your swollen clit. He lapped side to side between your pussy, biting softly once or twice and diving his tongue back inside you. You were gushing all over his face, the wet sounds coming from your core were filling up the whole room, but as he wrapped his hands on your thighs he didn’t seem to bother. 

“Ivar…” You managed to moan gripping at his hair with one of your hands, forehead against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as you felt another orgasm start to build inside you again. “Ivar!” You moaned, the second orgasm hitting faster than the first, making you soak the prince’s mouth the same way you did on his chest. 

Your whole body was trembling, your thighs were twitching and your hips moved softly as you rode down your high. When he felt you come down a bit, he lifted you up again, his face wet with your slick as he put you down his body, over his painfully hard cock.  

“Please.” He begged again, bucking his hips up, his cock head teasing your entrance. “Please, please, p- oh…”

You took him in easily, both of you groaning at the feeling, your body opening up to accommodate his thickness, the stretch always difficult, even after all that time. 

“Gods…” He mewled, hands firm on your waist making you circle your hips on his lap, his cock trapped inside your walls. 

“F-feels so good.” You stuttered, barely more than a whisper. Ivar looked up at you, as he shot into a sitting position, his wet chest pressing against your breasts as you circled your hips feeling his cock twitch inside you. Your arms hugging his neck tightly, hands grabbing at his braids while his mouth found your neck, his low moan rumbled against your skin. 

“Your cunt is already squeezing me so hard…” He mewled, hands on your waist making you start to bounce up and down on his cock. “Want to make you cum again.” He begged. 

“So good for me, my prince.” You murmured against his lips, moaning breathlessly as his cock hit your cervix.

“Can you feel me deep in you, my queen?” He asked, one of his hands now on your lower abdomen. “Right here.” 

“I can, can feel you there.” You answered, your arms holding his neck as you kept bouncing, lips brushing each other as you moved. 

This time should be about satisfying Ivar, about finally letting him cum, but as his cock buried inside you, filling you up to the brim, you couldn’t avoid the pleasure, your swollen, abused pussy didn’t seem to bother keeping you so wet you could feel him slide easily as you bounced. His hands finally grabbed your ass and helped you bounce faster, turning you into a blubbering, moaning mess. 

“Can I-  Can I cum, my queen? Oh… Can I cum inside you, please?” He begged, his rapid breathing hitting your flushed cheeks.

“Trying to breed me prince Ivar?” You teased with a smirk. “You wanna fuck your babies in my belly?” 

“Yes, please.” He cried, eyes rolling into the back of his head, head thrown back. 

“Wanna fill me up, my prince?” You kept going, voice getting high pitched with the proximity of another orgasm for you too. 

“Please!” He moaned out loud again. 

“Go ahead. Give me a child, Ivar.” 

You whimpered, feeling him stiff inside you and right after, with a loud groan, spilled hotspurs of cum into you. Your body shuddered as you followed, cuming with a long moan. Ivar hid his face on the crook of your neck, breathing heavily against your skin. You hugged him tightly, caressing his hair, his neck and his back, tracing his tattoos with the tip of your fingers. 

You stayed like this for a few minutes, once you recovered a little control of your body you tried to move away from his grip, knowing he didn’t want you there after you fuck, he barely could look you in the eyes after letting you dominate him this way, but before you could make any move, his arms wrapped around your waist keeping you in place. 

“Did you mean it?” He asked breathlessly. 

“What?” You asked with a frown, confused. 

“You really want my child?” His voice was a whisper, a barely there whisper. You widened your eyes and looked at him. 

“You really want a thrall to bear you a child?” You asked back. “I have no right to dream this big, prince Ivar.”

His eyes were sparkling again, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

“But do you want it? Even if it’s possible that the kid is born a cripple like me?” He insisted and you held his face between your hands. 

“I’d be honored to bring a child as strong and brave as you are, Ivar.”

“I’m not talking about honor, I’m talking about love.” He started. “Would you love him? Would you love a cripple child, from a cripple father?” 

“How couldn’t I?” You answered softly and he looked at you in confusion. “I already love you, my prince.” 

That was the first time you ever said that out loud, and then It was true, tangible, you couldn’t no longer pretend It was just about sex. 

“Be my wife then.” He asked all of a sudden. “Be my wife, bear me a child, I can not let you be taken away from me. You’re mine, be mine.” 

“I’m no princess, Ivar.” You tried to sound more confident than you really were. 

“Of course you’re not, I could never marry a princess.” He smiled finally, putting your hair behind your ear. “You’re a queen, my queen.” 

You kissed him eagerly, dragging your arms through his shoulders, hugging him tightly. Your bodies were sweaty and fucked out but feeling so close to him still felt incredibly good. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He murmured against your lips. 

His cock finally slid out of you, his seed running down your pussy, but Ivar quickly took his hand to cover and keep It inside you. 

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure my child is conceived.” 

“You know we have time, right?” 

“Yeah. And i’m going to love fucking you until then.” 

***

#ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar smut #ivar x reader #ivar imagine #ivar fanfic #ivar oneshot #ivar x you #ivar x reader smut #ivar x you smut #vikings smut #vikings fic #vikings imagine #18+ only #ivar x fem reader

[snovyda]

Some quotes from the Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation script that I can’t stop thinking about (most of these are in the script but did not end up in the actual film or are slightly different in the finished product).

Benji (to Lauren, the lie detector operator): You changed your hair... (laughs) It’s a joke... because you... never change your hair. Or your expression.

****

Lauren: State your name. Benji: You ask me that question every week. Lauren: Your name. Benji: The King of Norway. His vitals [on the  lie detector] fluctuate. Benji: That was a lie. I’m actually third in line for the throne. His vitals don’t fluctuate.

****

Brandt: Western civilization is slowly coming apart. Hunley: It won’t happen on my watch.

****

Ethan (on com): Benji, do you copy? Benji tries to contain his reaction. He sort of manages.

****

Benji arrives at a service door marked with electronic symbols. He quickly works the lock and slips into a cramped space, humming with electrical conduits. He’s very out of place in a tux.

****

Ethan: Ever have a crisis of faith, Benji? Benji: More than once. Am I fighting for the right side? Should I really risk my life for a world that doesn’t seem to care? Ethan: And sometimes the answer is no. Beat. Benji nods, yes. He’s not proud of it. Ethan: It happens to the best of us. Of course, most of us come back from that place. But not all.

****

Ethan: If I can bring [Lane] down, I can make everything like it was. Maybe even get you your life back. Benji: Ethan, I’m back. This is my life. This is what I signed up for. Let me help you find him. Ethan: That’s why I brought you here, and look what happened. I gambled with your life tonight and I lost. I can’t be sure how this ends. I can’t protect you. That’s why I need you to leave.

****

Luther: Understand something... Ethan is my friend. If I doubt you forone second whose side you’re really on... I’ll take you out. Brandt considers this, nods. Brandt: I believe you.

****

Ilsa: [...] I can tell you it’s impossible. Ethan and Benji share a look. The game is afoot.

****

Brandt: DNA profiling, facial recognition, gait analysis... drone strikes. Drone surveillance. (points) And that guy can even read your vital signs over your home wifi? He knows you have a heart problem before your doctor does. He shakes his head as if to say: what have we become?

****

Benji: I appreciate everything you’ve done for me but, seriously, one of these days you’re going to take things too far. Benji tries to laugh. Ethan tries to say something but can’t. Benji’s smile gives way to sincerity. Benji: I owe you my life, man. Thank you.

****

Benji has a hood ripped off from his head to find himself seated in a chair, in a hotel room with a sweeping view of downtown London. Before him stands Lane, to his side, Vinter. As Benji glares: Lane: You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Benji: You’re not a ghost yet... But you will be. Lane smiles, leans in to Benji: Lane: Get him ready, please.

#mission impossible #mission impossible rogue nation #ethan hunt #benji dunn #luther stickell #william brandt #solomon lane #ilsa faust #the script is available as a pdf online in case anyone is interested

[draumstafir-blog]

1.03 | vikings rewrite

episode summary: ragnar embarks on his first venture into leadership, though he might not trust himself as much as others do.

on a foggy, dreary morning at sea, gyda awoke to muffled groans and murmurs of low morale amongst her raiding party. her father, who was usually right by her side, was nowhere to be found. although, because of the quaint size of the ship, she soon spotted him at the head, leaning against the serpent carving.

ragnar’s eyes were scanning at lightspeed. he could barely see anything through the grey fog that engulfed the ship, but he was looking for answers and he needed them now.

“brother!” ragnar nearly jumped out of his skin when rollo placed a hand on his shoulder, seeming to be the only person onboard in good spirits. “what troubles you?”

ragnar let out an annoyed sigh, “i released the ravens yesterday. they did not return within the day, but i fear that they might do so soon.”

“wow, ragnar loðbrók fears something. this might be serious.” rollo half-joked. no one wanted to admit it, but sailing to a new location was nerve-wracking, and tensions were running high as crew members became antsy.

ragnar was running out of reassuring things to say, as he simply turned his head away from his brother instead of attempting to carry on with this conversation.

suddenly, a caw was heard in the distance. ragnar perked up, unsure of whether to be excited or terrified.

“that was no raven.” rollo offered, his brows furrowing.

a few moments of utter silence passed, as everyone became focused on listening for more bird sounds. soon enough, another caw was heard, this time seemingly closer to the ship. then another. then two more in succession, until finally a seagull flew overhead.

“hark,” helga excitedly but gently shook gyda, as the young girl was still barely awake, “we are near land!”

everyone aboard was smiling and cheering, though this was only the first victory among a long list of logistical obstacles in ragnar’s mind.

“tell me your plan, brother,” rollo whispered lowly to ragnar as flóki joined them in a huddle, “and what did that wanderer tell you of the place we are headed?”

“when the norwegians started our tradition of raiding, they happened upon an island in the northeast of the region, and they slowly discovered that despite having many holy sites near the sea, the saxons lack any naval prowess.” ragnar explained.

“so we shall beach upon the seashore and search for a holy site?” asked flóki.

“the christian saxons keep many treasures in their temples, as a tribute to their so-called ‘god’.” ragnar rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, eliciting a giggle from flóki.

with a grin lingering on his face, rollo chimed in, “and you mentioned that this wanderer instructed you to sail south of where the norwegians used to go. why?”

“to be truthful, i am not sure,” ragnar let out a deep breath, “but the nornir goddesses have woven our fate. and when we find what we are looking for, we will strike.”

“yes,” flóki grumbled, staring menacingly yet blankly into the grey mist, “we must strike without hesitation, but we must remain cautious. i have heard my mother, who hails from vestfold, speak of loathsome and treacherous kings in the region. some of them and their vile deeds are well-known even in norway.”

“are all christians not loathsome and treacherous?” rollo chuckled through a smirk.

ragnar turned his attention back to the murky waters ahead. he almost wished that the waves would ripple large enough to fracture his reflection; finding it hard to look at himself with the knowledge that - win or fail - the fate of the whole crew would be woven by him.

-

lagertha exhaled, her sigh perhaps lengthened by the excruciating tension of the muscles in her lower back. this was the first of many hours in the day she’d spend hunched over a boiling cauldron, stirring around onion peels and cloth. what started as an innocent idea to surprise her husband and daughter with freshly dyed garments upon their return, soon became a tedious project. and the next batch, she thought, would look marvelous with the addition of fresh laurel leaves.

lagertha stared unblinkingly into the dark, bubbling waters, a disgusted scowl manifesting on her lips. she immediately cursed herself for allowing her mind to become so thoroughly consumed by these lowly housewife duties. but then again, perhaps it was a habit she’d picked up from ragnar, who was always simply thinking. it was a mystery to most what he even thought about, or to what conclusions he arrived. although, lagertha had no doubt that her husband was a brilliant mind, and through his raids would prove himself so. but if lagertha was going to brood similarly, she couldn’t help but contemplate what kind of man would marry a shieldmaiden, only to replace her armors with aprons.

the sounds of children laughing came from outside the covered windows. björn was sparring with a few of the neighborhood boys, most of which he was bigger and stronger than, even at his young age. while being a víking was a common occupation, it was not as much so to see young people training for the job. it was more or less a last resort for most men, when their lives in trades or agriculture inevitably proved exhausting and unrewarding.

björn was determined to be different. he knew he was a warrior by birth and by lineage, and soon he would have the prowess to prove it.

-

gyda clutched her axe with both hands, the shield her father had bought for her was slung over her shoulder. she couldn’t even tell herself trembling until the vibrations from the wood against her back caused a dull pain in her head.

“are you alright, my dear?” the comforting lilt of helga’s voice came from beside her on the rowing bench.

the shoreline was close. they would be beached within a matter of minutes.

“what do you think they will say to us?” gyda murmured, her eyes especially wide and glued to the pebble beach.

“who, my dear?” as helga’s brows furrowed, the lack of kohl around her eyes made her look a bit more kind, if gyda would face her. she reached a hand out and gently placed it upon the girl’s shoulder.

“the christian priests,” gyda’s lips trembled slightly, “father and the others say they are from saxony, so won’t they understand us? won’t they speak in tongues so close to ours, yet so corrupted by blasphemy? what if that is all i can hear before i...”

she stopped herself. ragnar had his own troubles, still stood in the center of a group of men, deeply engrossed in a discussion of strategy. gyda tried to compose herself so as not to bother him, lowering her volume even further.

helga began rubbing patterns across gyda’s upper back, “you are afraid to die. perhaps it is wise to carry a healthy fear with you, as even valhöll can be quite lonely without a familiar face.”

helga tapped at gyda’s shield, prompting her to lift it off over her head, and subsequently beckoned the girl’s head onto her lap. helga’s fingernails were a bit long, but very hygienic. she lightly scratched soothing circles into gyda’s hairline.

“would it console you to tell you a story of life,” helga whispered melodically, “people can be so interesting - their turmoils and triumphs. the saxons of saxony were once attacked by karl, the barbaric king of franks. he killed their old gods. he forced them to worship the christ god. and now there are many saxons who live on this isle, on which we are about to land. they worship the christ god here. they devote temples to him, and fill them with gold and jewels.”

as helga felt gyda’s body loosen up, she continued absentmindedly massaging her scalp, “but they are foolish to do so. and now the duty rests upon us, to take those treasures from their feeble hands, and instill into them the true glory of óðinn. i will not allow you to perish until that is done.”

the small waves began to splash more loudly as the ship drew closer to the shore. flóki was gathering a team of the strongest men to help push the vessel once it was beached, but his ear twitched, and he found himself looking over his shoulder at helga. although her back was turned to him, he feasted so decadently on what tidbits of her speech he could pick out, suddenly more in love than ever.

with the sun almost about to set in the unfamiliar sky, the raiders made camp in a nearby forest, the ship attended by two men though left at a secluded part of the beach. flóki, rollo, and some of the other men made haste digging a ditch around the camp, which would later be disguised with twigs and foliage. helga, gyda, and the one other woman in the raiding party all busied themselves preparing dinner; a lackluster stew of crushed hardtack, rehydrated fish jerky, and some chopped up acorns, if anyone had foraged enough. ragnar sat on a tree stump beside his daughter, sharpening his sword for seemingly no reason, as it had not seen battle since last year’s raids.

“now gyda,” helga said, her tone becoming almost a coo, “i’m certain this will not taste as nice as your mother’s cooking, but it will surely ease your hunger more than having the individual ingredients cold.”

“worry not, helga. my mother is not much of a cook. if she is in the kitchen, she can most often be found gazing out the window, for she reminisces about her shieldmaiden days quite longingly.” gyda giggled.

“a decent shieldmaiden is few and far between. but so is a good mother.” ragnar interjected, prompting both gyda and helga to look back at him. gyda was smiling, perhaps finally feeling comfortable with the presence of another woman to confide in. and helga embraced this role enthusiastically.

“when you have children, helga, are you going to give up raiding? father says i will have to do so.” gyda huffed, pouting her lips exaggeratedly as she began doling out portions of the soup.

“i suppose, in contrast to your mother, raiding is not much for me to give up. i have only decided to embark this one time, for the experience of combat, and for a memory to share with my beloved.” helga grinned, her smile becoming a thin line across her cheeks as she handed ragnar his supper. he placed his sword and whetstone across his lap, nodding subtly to her in thanks.

“why is it that you’ve not yet married boatbuilder flóki?” gyda inquired innocently, now tending to the cauldron as helga found a seat next to ragnar.

“gyda,” he reprimanded her nonchalantly, “that is not a very polite thing to ask.”

“it’s no trouble, ragnar,” helga gently placed a hand on his forearm in protest, “the inconvenient truth is merely that my family had arranged for our betrothal, but before any ceremony could be performed, my parents and elder brother all succumbed to illness. my surviving brother is not much older than gyda and has barely started a blacksmith apprenticeship. i only wish to send him whatever gold i may find on this raid, so that he may find a bride of his own, with whom to live on our family property. after this burden is lifted, flóki and i shall wed, so that i may officially depart from my maiden’s dwelling with confidence.”

“these are very unfortunate circumstances. thus, i can only suggest you return to this land with us, and raid again another day.” ragnar suggested.

gyda erupted into a smile, “yes, father, what a great idea! helga should come raiding with us each time we do so!”

helga looked to ragnar for confirmation, though his expression was distant as ever, if not amplified by his inhalation of soup.

“i am beyond honored by the invitation, but i am amateurish, possibly even oafish with the sword.” helga shrunk into herself a bit.

“your betrothed sings your praises, helga, rest assured.” ragnar felt the two girls’ eyes land on him. he drew out the silence as he finished his meal, perhaps relishing in the authority he so scarcely held.

“if you should prove yourself on this trip, you are more than welcome to return with us, if you so choose.” ragnar wiped his hands on his tunic, his head held high as he looked to helga, who sat on the ground. her blue eyes became wide with adoration, almost looking like gyda’s, or perhaps lagertha’s. although, lagertha had never let the balance of power in the marriage tilt toward her husband. she was decidedly more ruthless - a trait which helga and gyda may need to acquire quickly.

“heiðvör, the miller’s wife is looking a bit... underprepared.” rollo remarked to flóki, the two dusting dirt off of their hands and wiping sweat from their brows.

“you don’t mean álfkell, the miller, do you? then it’s no shock the woman can nary afford a chainmail strong enough to cover her colossal bosom!” they both burst into laughter at flóki’s retort.

“the bakers of kattegat all claim the man has insufficient funds for even a mug of seawater with supper!” rollo added.

“ah, but, the couple do have a young daughter,” flóki leaned in, his eyebrows raising as his volume lowered, “if she should inherit her mother’s figure, she will undoubtedly secure a great dowry. perhaps from you too, if by that time you can finally entertain the idea of taking a wife of your own.”

“flóki, my dear friend, i have yet to live thirty summers on midgard. once my brother reached that age, he had already been living most of his life for his children. when i think of fatherhood, i simply cannot imagine giving my children a name which means nothing. sigurðarson means nothing to me, for i possess not one memory of his face; no stories to tell, no reputation amongst the townsfolk. my brother, perhaps foolishly, believes that he is actually descended from óðinn. and i will not deny him that possibility - if that is what allows him to justify raising his children in anonymous poverty. for me, i cannot subject my lineage to that fate. my children will know their father to be a famous man; a great man. it may be that my brother and i shall both achieve that on this trip.”

“rollo, be calm yet and ponder not this plight, for many others and myself will know you and ragnar always as triumphant vikings.”

rollo placed a hand gently on flóki’s shoulder, “that eases my mind. though, at ease, it cannot remain. for my brother may be content to live and die as a farmer, but i intend to live for glory, or die in shame.”

-

the summer’s evening air seemed to hang low and thick, almost like a stone block, pummeling the faces of all who dared disturb it. jarl haraldson wiped beads of sweat as they dripped from his temples. though this was a trip he could not bear to reschedule. stopping before a magnificent pine tree, the jarl gently dropped to his knees, careful not to apply all of his weight to one joint or the other.

once comfortable in his position though, any sense of mindfulness was flooded with salty tears.

“my sweet erik, my lovely agnar, have you slept well tonight?” the jarl asked through fleeting breaths, tempered by runny sniffles.

the thought crossed his mind, that perhaps he should look around and make certain he was alone. but the chance that he should accidentally make eye contact with his bodyguard - who was stood a few hundred paces away - was too great and too humiliating.

“i have received word that a raiding party has left for the english isle. that slippery peasant ragnar loðbrók has defied my word and gone straight into the viper’s nest of those saxon kings. but rest easy, my beloved sons, i will not let our enemies prevail.”

jarl haraldson patted the earth beneath him, almost as tenderly as one would pat the chest of a slumbering child. and with one final swipe of his mucus-laiden nostrils, the jarl backed up and vanished into the night, his cloak disguising the sorrow on his face just as the humid darkness concealed him.

-

the orange twilight somehow managed to turn the previous night’s midnight heat into frigid mist. although the summer season was settling in, it was still almost frosty so far up north, as the morning dew clung to men’s boots with a vengeance.

even boys’ boots, too, felt its cold wrath, as a freckly young servant boy was sent into the nearby forest on the king’s orders.

with one careless step in the wrong place, the boy quickly discovered that the ground beneath him began sounding hollow. and mustering all of his might, he lifted some kind of metal trap door, half-revealing something close to a nightmare. but, half was all he needed to see in order to get the job done. picking up the sack he’d brought with him, the boy fulfilled his orders by emptying the thing of its contents: live rats. and the wretched creatures in the pit below dined lavishly, hissing with grotesque contentment.

the doe-eyed boy then began his trek back to the king’s castle.

“see, brother, the walk is not very far. i’m a lot of things, but i’m not the sort of man who’d see his own nephew hurt.” king ælle of northumbria pointed out one of the large grated windows in his dining hall, where a messy head of strawberry blond hair could be seen emerging from the treeline.

a comically long dining table separated him and his brother as they ate completely different morning meals.

“for heaven’s sake, osburt,” ælle paused in the middle of chewing his blood sausages and rye loaf, “there’s no point in your silent seething. the boy eats well, dresses well, and when he’s of age, he’ll be my squire. quite a noble upbringing if ever there was one.”

osburt stirred his spoon around in his porridge, which seemed to contain oats, barley grains, and chunks of something brown. “he was meant to be a prince, not a mere noble.”

“well, as i’m sure you’ve noticed by now, there’s no controlling the will of the wisemen council,” ælle pointed across the table with his meat knife, “and the both of you are, frankly, quite lucky that said will has allowed you to remain in my court.”

“but, while we remain here, i take it you’d have no problem finding any other common servant to perform animal maintenance for you. why is it that my son was so delicately hand-selected to deal with those monstrous serpents, whose use in your employ seem to be riding the line of savagery?” osburt spat as if he were reciting a tongue twister, all without lifting his gaze once to meet his brother’s.

ælle’s grip around the knife tightened.

he clutched a chalice of cider in his other hand, opting to look into the distance instead of at his poor excuse for a brother, “you remember what our father was like, perhaps more so than i, as the elder son. the only way to defeat your enemies for all time, is to earn their respect. that is what he so arduously believed, and mostly about the northmen, who still have yet to revel in the genius of his philosophy. and merely a generation before his time, we, the enlightened men of the godly kingdom of northumbria, were no better than those pagans. father knew their tactics, and he was keen on serving them right back. men would whisper stories of him capturing northmen even as they retreated, and punishing their cowardice by pulling gray brain bits out from their nose holes.”

osburt pushed his porridge away.

“the snake pit was only another facet of his plan, brother,” osburt’s posture betrayed the stoic front he tried to maintain, as even looking into his brother’s eyes felt sickeningly foreign in this moment, “a plan which you were not competent enough to complete. but in my reign, i will see to it that the scourge be eliminated from our pastures forever.”

“no one actually believed those distorted rumors.” osburt quipped.

“no one has to believe anything,” ælle returned, the usual boisterous quality back in his voice as it boomed through the hall, “when facing decent, christian opponents, of course there is an unspoken code to be followed. but northmen have no codes, they know no rules nor limits to their cruelty. so, who’s to say they can’t be responded to accordingly? father believed it’s simply the price that comes with choosing not to believe in the lord almighty, jesus christ.”

ælle finished his rhapsodizing by leaning smugly back in his seat, the fur cushions behind him like clouds on his back. osburt simply grabbed at his bowl, his stomach finally ready to pick at that gruel once more.

suddenly, a frantic knock on the large wooden doors cut through the atmosphere.

“not now, wigstan, your father and i are speaking.” ælle roared.

the doors opened regardless, as the two armed guards stationed in front of them had let in whoever was outside.

“your grace,” an out-of-breath soldier came bustling into the room, removing his helmet and bowing to the king, “i come bearing news from my scouting duties in bamburgh.”

“what is it then?” ælle seemed quite unbothered, for a man just rambling about his hatred of northmen.

“a peculiar vessel has been sited on the seashore. it looks to be the mark of the northmen, but it is beached in a location quite far from any monasteries.” the scout reported.

“ha! looks like we’re dealing with a particularly dim group of them. how long might it take you to lead a battalion of men up to handle the matter?” ælle chuckled out.

“departing from your grace’s court, it will take about half of one day to arrive in bamburgh.”

“excellent. then, be on your way, and if the barbarians can be dispatched in a timely manner, you’ll be home in time for a hot sunday supper.”

with a dismissive wave of the king’s hand, the scout bowed again and was ushered out of the dining hall. ælle leaned into his plush furs once more, as if to pat himself on the back, the next sip of cider tasting even sweeter somehow.

-

the sunday church bells rang incessantly, but served almost as a beacon, drawing ragnar and his band to their source. a small village not far from where the raiding party made camp, was particularly empty. men’s voices singing alien songs were heard echoing throughout the dirt streets. and upon finding the epicenter of all these noises, arne tapped ragnar on the shoulder.

“loðbrók,” he whispered sharply, “this building must be their temple, and look what they have left outside of it.”

he gestured to the front doors of a modest yet decorated structure, leaning upon which were at least 20 swords.

“you will pack up our campsite and return everything to the ship.” ragnar doled out an order to his friend, naturally garnering the attention of everyone else. and to them, he merely placed a finger before his lips.

torstein, rollo, and flóki all cleared the swords from the doorway as quietly as possible. the church bells rang out once more, prompting ragnar to roll his eyes and ready his sword.

a loud thud interrupted the church service as people gasped, fainted, and screamed. the faces of the intruding vikings were barely visible as the sun shone brightly behind them in the narrow opening. raiders ran inside, killing, mutilating, fighting any of the defenseless townsfolk they saw fit, while others busied themselves clearing anything valuable off of the tables and altars. rollo ran straight for the man at the center of the room. he wore such fanciful attire, his robes woven with red and white fabrics, while beads and crosses adorned his neck. the man was older and trembled as he pleaded for his life, though rollo simply responded by allowing him to gently remove his beaded necklace, before the neck was sliced through with a dagger.

ragnar sent a breakaway group to roam the rest of the village in search of gold elsewhere, as the people inside the church who offered no opposition were lined up and patted down. at times, some of the saxon men would work up enough courage to tussle with their captors, but to no avail.

in all the confusion, gyda had been off to the sidelines, preferring to watch instead of fight, though she was certain she could take on an unarmed saxon. but something compelled her to turn around and look behind her, and as she did, she heard movement coming from behind a tall covered table.

moving the table slightly away from the wall, she found three boys huddled together, each wearing similar robes to the main priest, but perhaps less of an eyesore. the one closest to her was definitely older than björn, but arguably not much older than her. he had big blue eyes that begged for mercy, with long eyelashes, and similarly dark brown beard stubble that almost made him look like a man. the other two boys hid behind his back, far younger and scared into oblivion. gyda was perhaps equally as startled, her eyes widening in their signature fashion, though she held out her axe in front of her in an attempt to look menacing.

“please!” the oldest boy cried out in a desperate whisper. and gyda could understand him perfectly.

it was her worst fears being realized; so much so that she nearly forgot to take note of the bizarreness of his haircut, which left a complete bald patch in the middle of his head.

“i beg of you, spare these two boys! do with me whatever you please!” the boy with the strange haircut was growing frenzied, the sides of his nose crinkling as he pleaded. gyda studied him, finding it handsome in a way she couldn’t have fathomed mere minutes earlier. although she was still unnerved by the fact that the saxon tongue was indeed so similar to her own.

“i have been to norway, i speak your tongue!”

now gyda was utterly baffled. her eyebrows furrowed in shock, as she tried her best not to stammer, though her lips couldn’t round up enough words to choke out a reply.

“we have barrels of ale in the cellar! i would give you all of them to let my brothers go!”

“brothers…” gyda found herself repeating the boy absentmindedly. though, feeling as if she’d shown too much leniency already, she grabbed the boy by the collar of his robe and pressed her axe against his throat.

“take me to the ale!” she demanded loudly, so that all of her fellow pillagers heard.

but with her free hand, she quietly pushed the table back up against the wall, and beckoned the two younger boys underneath the table cloth.

“good ferocity, girl!” her uncle rollo cheered. he was a bit preoccupied examining a group of about four saxon women, each sobbing silently before him. gyda looked away, pretending not to know what his intentions were.

she focused herself on seeming threatening to the boy in front of her, pushing him around with her axe still raised until he led her behind a closed door and down a short flight of steps.

“she is a real shieldmaiden in the making.” helga looked on proudly, carrying a sack full of golden candlesticks that once stood on the stone church altars.

“she appears to be a shieldmaiden yet.” ragnar muttered in return, not mirroring helga’s expression of adoration, as his face exposed his concern. eventually his raider’s - or perhaps father’s - intuition urged him to follow gyda.

the young shieldmaiden found herself in a cool, dry room lined with barrels. closing the door behind her and her hostage, gyda finally lowered her axe.

“i will make certain that no harm befall your brothers.” she spoke lowly, but with authority, causing the priest boy to nod timidly.

“and what of me?” he croaked.

“are you trying to torment me?” gyda barked, though the remorse behind her eyes was palpable.

the boy only shuffled backwards, his hands trying to grip the wall, perhaps for comfort.

“father said anyone captured alive should be taken into slavery,” her eyes drifted to the ground, “but what kind of northman would want a slave like you? who can understand our every word, and reply back with praises of the christ god? i know what christians like you are meant to do, when the men in expensive dresses send you off to places like my home.”

“if you should spare my life, i would do nothing of the sort.”

“this is a heavy burden to place upon me, right after saving your brothers too.” gyda pouted, still incapable of looking him in the eye.

“well, those are not my blood brothers. that is just what men of the clergy call each other.” the boy’s tone became more calm and soft, probably sensing that there was a way to reason his captor.

but, gyda’s expression contorted, “so you lied to me?”

the boy’s eyes darted to her axe, which was now hanging facing the ground, and with a mixture of cockiness and desperation, he lunged for it. gyda caught his initial movement in her peripheral view, swinging the axe behind her body and using one of her feet to sweep his shins. falling backwards onto the hard stone floor, the boy put his forearms up to block his face, one of which gyda skillfully grabbed and pressed behind his back. hearing screams of pain, she picked up the boy’s body weight and nudged him forward until his front side was flush against a wall, his other arm helplessly flailing about.

once gyda had done this full rotation of the room, she was met with her father’s figure where the closed door had once been.

“any broken bones will make him far less valuable.” ragnar snapped jokingly, sending his daughter a quick smirk of approval before returning to the others.

gyda leaned into him, applying her full weight to increase his discomfort, “what is your name, priest?”

“æthelstan!” he cried, between uncontrollable gasping breaths.

“well then, aðalsteinn, as that is what your new owners will be calling you,” feeling a newfound confidence, gyda used the wooden end of her axe to brush the stray hairs out of her face, “make your good arm useful and fetch me a mug of ale.”

she released him forcefully, elbowing his kidney area one last time for good measure. peering through the now open door into the other room, gyda scurried over to the tall table and discreetly checked to see that the two boys were still safely hidden under it.

by the end of their time at the church, ragnar’s raiding party had taken away at least 10 sacks of gold and jewels, three slaves, and countless skins full of dark ale. the three captives walked in a single-file line, their wrists all tied with one rope. ragnar carried on not far behind them, trailing close enough to even touch the shaved circle on æthelstan’s head.

“you and i have much to discuss, aðalsteinn.” æthelstan could feel the beams coming off ragnar’s unforgiving, icy glare, even from behind him. the boy silently gulped as he was shepherded away from his home.

-

the late afternoon sun shone blistering yellow beams, distorting the image of the ocean from the cliffs just behind the beach. ælle’s men had only arrived in time to witness their marks departing triumphantly, their shrinking silhouettes seemingly raising their arms, as if toasting one another.

the scout’s brow trembled at the thought of having to report this to his short-tempered liege.

-

“helga,” ragnar reached over to poke the woman in question, who was no longer sitting with gyda and was instead being cradled by her betrothed, her face a poignant red from the ale, “when we arrive in kattegat, make haste and tell your brother that i shall fund his first project.”

he pulled two ornate rosaries out from his pocket, dusting off the crosses before giving them to her. helga and flóki giggled at the sight of them, the inebriation causing her to bury her face into his chest, with the chainmail still on.

gyda sat alone near the front of the ship, where the three captives were huddled on the floor. æthelstan sat with his legs folded against his chest, along with two other saxon men that ragnar deemed strong enough for farm work.

“do not sit there sulking so loudly,” gyda remarked, herself holding a half-empty mug of ale, “your hot, disdainful breaths are getting on me.”

æthelstan let out an annoyed sigh, “you northmen are going to desecrate the sanctity of so many holy items. you condemn yourself to an eternity of flaming torture, yet display such apathy toward it.”

ragnar suddenly appeared, looming over gyda, his own face displaying what could be perceived as apathy. although, the expressions of a man whose mind ponders so many emotions at once would be rather difficult to interpret; at least for those around him, it was.

“tell me then, what do these things mean to you?” the pirate asked so calmly, æthelstan found it chilling in a whole new way.

“they represent penitence and forgiveness…” æthelstan fumbled his way through his own words, “such were the teachings of our lord, jesus christ.”

“so, your god is not a god? he was simply a man who taught his own beliefs.” ragnar sat on the bench next to his daughter, his tone of voice perhaps denoting that he was stern in his beliefs, though he hoped to egg the priest on to keep talking.

“he was, at one point, a man like you and i, yes. but he was born as the son of god, and would later rejoin his holy father in the kingdom of heaven.”

ragnar put his forearms on his knees and twiddled his thumbs, “but, what if some have said i was the son of a god?”

“mother has said something similar.” gyda’s lips formed a shy smile, perhaps simply relieved to be in her father’s company and done with the fighting.

“why would anyone say that?” æthelstan asked, too intimated to let on just how aggravated that notion made him.

“some said it after i slew the serpent. for which, i wore a pair of shaggy breeches, thus i am called ragnar loðbrók. to win the hand of my wife, i slew a bear and a great hound which both guarded her abode. and now… some may say it after we return from this voyage: that i have truly proven myself the son of allfather óðinn.”

“then, to prove you are a god, your allfather will have to choose you to return from death and join him in heaven.”

“heaven is not something i have heard of before,” ragnar rubbed his temples, giving the impression that this conversation bored him, “but if it is anything like valhöll, then it is not a fate to be dreaded. i could go on for hours about it.”

gyda snickered to herself, as even with her slight disorientation, she knew her father well enough to understand what a rare occurrence it was when he enjoyed speaking to someone. the remnants of a smile remaining on her face, gyda accidentally locked eyes with æthelstan, whose expression softened. she turned away before her father noticed, but she couldn’t stop the pink blush that made her drunken cheeks even warmer.

if ragnar was so certain things would never be the same, perhaps he would be the first domino to fall.

#vrp tag #vikings #vikings fanfic #vikings headcanons #vikings imagine

[sorrow-already-spoiled]

Ferns: Hanahaki AU

Ferns. Sio was coughing up ferns. He couldn’t explain it, but he was woken up in the night frequently by the need to pull the fluid and blood soaked leaves from his throat before they choked him to death. 

Sio woke up slowly. It was today. He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand. It read 8:32 AM. Rowen would be here in an hour to drive him to the hospital. His stomach grumbled, but he wasn’t allowed to eat as part of the surgery preparation. Just a few more hours and he would be able to breath without feeling like he was going to suffocate. His lungs would be free of the roots and ferns that had been plaguing his life for over a year now. 

He remembered when he first met Thruun, by happenstance while traveling in Norway. They had spent the rest of their trip together, and had been shocked to realize they actually both lived in the same city. They had maintained a casual relationship that could only really be described as “something with benefits”. Sio isn’t entirely sure what it was that made him fall in love, but he knew enough about Thruun to know that it wouldn’t be received well, let alone reciprocated. So he shoved his feelings down. He answered the 2:00 AM phone calls and took what he could get, even if it left him feeling hollow inside. He started coughing up ferns not long after. 

For a long time, Sio refused to tell anyone about it, and when it was just the occasional leaf, it wasn’t so bad. He knew what Hanahaki Disease was of course, his mother was an herbalist after all. When he coughed up an entire frond while at lunch with Rowen he couldn’t exactly keep it a secret from her anymore. 

He so desperately didn’t want surgery, but when the condition worsened, and he could barely breathe anymore, and the ferns were coming up soaked with blood he had to start considering it as an option. Scans of his lungs showed that the roots were leaving scars that would do permanent, irreversible damage if not dealt with quickly. Sio thought of his moms, of his dad, of his siblings, and the new little one on the way that he would never meet if he died. He couldn’t leave them yet. He booked a surgery date. 

He had been dreading today. The surgery would remove the threat of the disease, yes. But it would also remove any trace of the love he felt for Thruun, now and forever. He would simply feel nothing about the other man at all. It sounded so lonely. 

The sound of his phone ringing disturbed his thoughts. The called ID read “Thruun, Lord of the Wilds,” (an inside joke between the two of them, with Sio’s contact name in Thruun’s phone being “Sio, King of Nothing.”). God, he couldn’t do this today. He answered the call anyway. 

“Hey.” 

“Hello little bird. How are you this morning?” 

“Fine. How are you?”

“Just fine? Maybe I can fix that, unless you’ve got other plans this afternoon?”

“Sorry Thruun, I actually am busy today. And I probably will be for the next little bit. I’ve just got a lot of stuff going on right now, I’m sorry.” The line went silent for a few moments that seemed to stretch out forever. 

“No need to apologize for a busy schedule. No worries at all. I won’t keep you then.”

“Ok, I’m sorry. Goodbye, I’m sorry.” Sio hung up before Thruun could even say anything in response. 

Rowen showed up right on time. It was painfully easy to check in to the hospital, to change into the faded green surgery gown, to meet the surgeon. The man, Doctor Dreali North, smiled at him gently. 

“Don’t worry Mr. Elkhardt. When you wake up, they won’t be able to hurt you any more. You won’t feel a thing throughout the surgery, it’s just like taking a little nap.”

True to his word, the next thing Sio knew, his vision was going dark and he was drifting through nothingness. He woke to a sensation of warmth in both his hands, and opened his eyes to see one being held by Rowen, the other by Enjo. They stopped their quiet conversation when they noticed he was awake. 

“Sio! Welcome back!”

“How do you feel?” Sio looked down at his chest and inhaled deeply. 

“It hurts less. I thought it would ache, or feel hollow, but there’s just…. Nothing.” He glanced out the window. It was just starting to turn from Autumn to Winter, and a few stray snowflakes were drifting past the window on a breeze. “It feels like nothing.” He didn’t see the worried glance that Enjo and Rowen shared. 

There was a quiet knock at the door and Dr. North entered the room with a small sterile trolly. 

“How do you feel? Any pain? The painkillers should still be working fairly well, but I always like to check in and see how my patients are doing.” Sio shook his head.

“I feel fine, no pain. It’s all good.”

“That’s great, I’m glad to hear it Mr. Elkhardt.” Dreali glanced over at the screen monitoring Sio’s vitals, taking a few notes. “Now, this surgery is relatively unobtrusive so you should be good to go home in a few hours so long as you’ll have some support, which it looks like you do. There is just one other matter to decide upon before I sign your release paperwork.” He stepped back towards the trolly, removing the lid of a tray on it. There, roots and all, were a collection of beautiful, but dying, ferns. “What would you like to do with these?”

Sio’s heart ached just looking at them. He swore for a moment that they curled towards him as if longing to return home. He couldn’t bear to look at them for any longer so he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. 

“Just throw them out, I don’t care.” After a moment's pause he heard the tray lid be replaced.

“Very well, I’ll make sure that’s what gets done if that’s your choice. I’m glad the surgery went well, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry Mr. Elkhardt. I know none of this could have been easy.” 

Sio just stared out the window again. 

The weeks following the surgery were a little painful as the scar healed, but otherwise uneventful. He received a great deal of calls and messages from Thruun, but honestly, he just couldn’t be bothered to answer half the time. There was a void where there had once been feelings so intense they had choked him. It was a shock to Sio when, after two months of nothing, he began to feel the ache in his heart. And a few days later, he coughed up a green leaf. 

He immediately contacted Dr. North, who was shocked to see that his condition had returned. 

“I’ve never seen this before in a patient who chose to throw away the plant. It’s very odd. Sometimes, if the plant we remove is cared for enough, it will reroot itself, even from a distance, but I’m certain that I threw your ferns out. I’d like to run some more tests if that’s alright with you?”

“Whatever it takes.” Sio was exhausted.

Thruun was having him over for dinner. Just dinner, he had explained, though Sio doubted it was really just dinner. Thruun’s apartment was overgrown as usual, with plants overflowing from every corner of the room, vines crawling across the support beams in the ceiling, collections of pots on every shelf. Sio watched from the couch as Thruun added some finishing touches to the meal, some fancy ethnic dish he couldn’t hope to pronounce. He had been here a hundred times, but there were always new things to look at. The small terracotta pot in the window ledge caught his attention though. 

It was full of ferns. Familiar ones that were stretching towards Sio as if in longing. He immediately began to cough violently, his mouth filling full of green. Thruun crossed the room and knelt in front of him. His thumb pressed against Sio’s chin.

“Open up.” Sio didn’t really have a choice if he wanted to breathe in enough air to not pass out. Thruun’s fingers slid into Sio’s mouth and drew out the frond, seemingly uncaring that it was covered in blood. “You know, I had to find out for myself about your condition.” He stood, and brought the frond over to the kitchen sink, rinsing it off carefully. “You never removed me as a contact for FindMyPhone, and it pinged when you got to the hospital. The nurse at the front desk was very helpful. She told me why you were there. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I was so shocked then.” He cut the end off the frond and placed it in a vial of water to propagate it, adding it to a rack of other plants in the same state that hung on the wall. Sio began to protest, babbling a string of nonsense, but Thruun shushed him. “I couldn’t understand why you didn’t tell me about it, but then I realized it must have been me. I was the one you were in love with. Am I wrong about that?”

Sio’s face immediately grew warm. This was not how he had pictured the evening going. It wasn’t like he could lie about it. He was a terrible liar, and Thruun always seemed to have a sixth sense for it anyways. 

“You're not wrong. But I didn’t want to bother you with it, you were very clear about your expectations from the start and it’s my fault for catching feelings in the first place, trust me it was a whole experience really and it was kind of a mess, but I didn’t want to–” Sio was cut off by Thruun rolling his eyes and kissing him firmly. Sio’s eyes flew open wide in shock, as Thruun’s fingers found their way to his jaw again. He pulled away slowly.

“I was furious at myself because I was too late, and I had no idea how you really felt about me. I found the ferns in a back alley, and I just couldn’t let them die. I wanted to hold on to the little piece of your affection there was left.” 

“Why would you care about that? I don’t understand.” Thruun raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re a little slow on the uptake today, aren’t you. This is me, trying to tell you that I care about you a great deal, little bird.” It wasn’t quite ‘I love you’, but Sio couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face anyways. 

“Really?”

“Really.” The smile turned into an outright grin, and Sio felt the ache in his chest fade completely. 

Hours later, when the pair were curled up on the couch, Sio would come to a realization half way through an episode of Yuri on Ice.

“Wait, if I had just told you how I felt in the first place I wouldn’t have had to have surgery at all?! I ate nothing but soup for two whole weeks!”

[fangirlings-things]

A Challenge

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Halfdan the Black x female reader

Warnings: mentions of violence and sex

Word count: 1.2K

Gif is not mine

Summary: you and your husband Halfdan have a beautiful friendship and a teasing relationship

• Requested by anonymous

A/N: hope you like it anon, I did my absolute best here. I love Halfdan and had never written a one shot to him, so this was very fun! Let me know what your thoughts are xx💕

─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

“I believed her” Harald’s tone was more than sad as he said so, his eyes were far away, focused on the happy couple that spoke to each other. “My ambition to become King of all Norway was born because of that woman. But she lied when she said she would wait for me, and she married another”

“I don’t understand women any better than you do, brother” Halfdan said, shrugging and raising his cup of ale until it touched his lips. He drank, and then moments later placed the cup back at the wooden table.

“Except me, of course” you raised your eyebrows at him, as a smile took a hold of your lips. Even the loud conversations around and the sounds of people training, could not turn your attention from him in that moment.  

"Of course" Halfdan, your husband, leaned in and gave you a quick kiss to the lips, just a quick touch that was enough to warm your heart. His gaze was on you and he winked playfully. 

"You are a simple woman to understand, (Y/N)" Harald stated, still not looking to the other side of the table and to the two of you. He was still lost in that woman's, Ellisif, face and betrayal. 

"Oh, I am simple, Harald?" your questioning, accusing tone made him turn to you with a little smile. 

"You know what I meant" the brother of your husband said. 

You chuckled. "Yes, I do. I was just joking" you shrugged and took a sip of your own drink. The taste of the ale on your throat was more than familiar. "I know you find me amazing, Harald"

"No point in denying it" Harald himself, chuckled. Halfdan joined him. "My brother is a lucky man to have you by his side, (Y/N), you are truly an amazing woman" you smiled at him and he sighted, his eyes going back to Ellisif. "I thought I would share the same luck, but I guess I was wrong"

You exchanged a look with your husband, and he sighted heavily. You knew it saddened him, to see his brother heart broken like that. As you were King Harald's friend, maybe the closest friend he had beside his own brother, it upset you as well. 

"She was not worthy of you, brother" Halfdan said seriously, after you encouraged him to speak with a motion of your head. "You will find a better woman" 

"And when you do, you two will marry and be happy together. Have many healthy children" as Harald sighted again, seeming not to believe you, you reached out across the table and took one of his hands in yours. Your eyes met and you said with the most serious tone you had. "I am sure of it" 

"Thank you. Both of you" he squeezed your hand and them let it go, reaching for his cup. He raised it in the air. "Skol" 

"Skol" you and Halfdan said together, and the three of you drank and talked for a while, laughed like you usually did. That was, until Harald's attention went back to Ellisif and he saw that she was not anymore in the company of her husband. After taking another long sip of his ale, Harald got up and without saying anything, started to walk towards the woman. 

"What is he going to do?" you asked, worried. You knew very well that Harald had a gift for being reckless sometimes. 

"Something stupid, for certain" Halfdan finished his drink in another sip only, then left the cup on the table. His eyes searched for yours. "I will go with him, give him sense if he needs it" 

"Which he probably will" you played with your empty cup and grabbing your husband's clothes, brought him close and kissed his lips again before pushing him away and out the bench, for him to stand. "Now go, before he does something he will later regret" 

"My brother, the King. Always in need of saving from himself and his own actions" Halfdan grabbed his axe from the grass and placed it on his waist. "I will find you later" 

"I know you will" you said to him and winking again, your husband walked away, following his brother who was already talking to Ellisif. 

Telling yourself you would prefer not to watch the developing of that occurrence, you got up and getting your sword, went to the woods. 

              ─━━━━━━⊱❉⊰━━━━━━─

Halfdan found you later in the woods, training battle movements on your own as you striked the air around you over and over again. 

For a while he just stood there, watching you training with fascination. He was amazed by how great a warrior you were. Your skills as a shield maiden was one of the reasons that had made him fall for you so quickly when you met. 

"How did that go?" you asked, without even looking at him or interrupting your movements. You two were so familiar with each other, that you could sense his gaze on you. His intense staring that always overwhelmed you. 

"Bad" the dark tone in his voice made you stop training and turn around with a frown. Halfdan had leaned on a tree, and had his arms crossed over his chest. There was blood on his cheek, blood that was not dry yet. "Harald killed her husband. I killed her" 

"So, really bad" you said and he nodded in agreement as you cleaned the sweat from your forehead. "Why did you have to kill her? The thought that Harald would probably kill her husband crossed my mind but Ellisif... I thought he would let her live. He was still in love with her"

"It was not his idea to kill her. She tried to kill him while they had sex, so I killed her. He was a fool to believe she was going back to him after her husband had been killed" he looked down at his feet and saw that there was blood in his boots as well, which he had not seen before. 

You dropped your sword to the grass and walked over to him. Only a feet away, you passed your fingertips on the blood on his cheek and ended up spreading it a bit. 

He looked at your lips as he licked his. "Do you want to have sex?" 

You smiled proudly. Leaning in, you gave him a hot, long kiss, your tongues danced together in perfect. As you pulled back, you could see the darker tone that had taken a hold of his eyes. "No, I don't want to have sex" 

Halfdan chuckled and grabbing the cloth of your clothes, changed your positions, your back then against the tree in which he had been leaning. "I can try to change your mind"  

You kicked his left leg and the sudden hit made him fall on his knees to the grass as he breath hissed in surprised pain. Grabbing an amount of his hair, you pulled at it and made him look up at you. "I am a very determined person, Halfdan the Black. It will not be easy to change my mind" 

"I enjoy a challenge" he raised his eyebrows. You got so distracted by his beauty that did not see the upcoming attack. In a blink of an eye, he pulled you down with all his strength and as your back hit the grass, he got upon you. His hair fell on his face and some of the blood on his cheek fell on yours. "That is why I married you" 

You smiled and when he leaned down to kiss you again, you did not fight back. 

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #vikings imagine #vikings #history vikings #halfdan the black #halfdan imagine #halfdan the black imagine #halfdan x reader #vikings halfdan

[conaionaru]

Sigurd Snake-in-the-eye Oneshot

Such a lovely bride

Even covered in dirt and messy hair, she was breathtaking. Grinning at him from her spot under him, soft chuckles leaving her lips. "You didn't have to trip me."

"Why? I like seeing you like this." He teased back and kissed her cute little nose, snorting when she crunched it up. She threw him off and looked up at the hill that they tumbled down.

She wanted to be chased, and as the nice guy he was, he agreed. It wasn't his fault they fell down the hill, really. He tripped on a root, and if he should fall, so shall she. Sigurd would do anything to spoil Korra rotten. He was a prince, a son of Ragnar Lothbrok. All those riches and fame would finally be for something good.

"You are staring again." She teased with raised eyebrows.

"I made you another song." Sigurd pulled his oud out, but she dragged him over to the sand and the lake. Pulling off her shoes, Korra ran into the water, not caring if her skirts got wet.

Watching her twirl in the cool water was like watching a Nymph or a faerie. Sigurd could watch her for hours if it didn't look so creepy. Ever since he first saw her, he felt a pull towards Korra.

At fifteen, she stumbled into him from behind, dressed in her brother's clothes, carrying a basket of fish. Instead of apologizing as other girls would have, she called him rude and stuck her tongue out. He could still hear his brother's laughing at his starstruck expression and his stupid smile whenever he thought of her. But it was all worth it when he brought her flowers, and she giggled for the first time.

It was like the loveliest melody, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't create one as lovely as hers. So Sigurd vowed to hear it every day from now on. And no matter what Ubbe said about fading love, Sigurd was sure he would marry that girl. No matter how wild and untamed she might be.

"Well? Aren't you going to play for me?" She asked, looking at him over her shoulder with her cute grin that was a mix between teasing and challenging. So he picked up his oud and played the song that he wrote just for her. It took him a fortnight to make it perfect, and the smile that she flashed him was worth it. But the kiss on his lips when she crawled out of the water was even better.

Laying side by side and watching the clouds pass by as they held hands was bliss. The peacefulness was a nice change to the usual chaos of his family. "That one looks like a goat."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does. It has the same beard like you." Sigurd looked at her strangely while she cackled at her own joke. Rolling over, he hovered over her and tickled her side till she trashed under him and begged for mercy.

"Stoooop. Siguuuurd! Stop it! I command you!"

He chuckled and looked into her blue eyes with a silly smile. "Who are you to command a son of Ragnar Lothbrok, huh?"

She rolled her eyes and brushed his shaggy hair behind his ear. "Korra, the fisherman's daughter. I have been called the most beautiful woman out there. I think it a lie, but he insisted."

"Pesty, isn't he?" He leaned closer till their lips brushed against each other, blue eyes meeting green.

"It's lovable, really." They locked lips in a sweet kiss and laid back down, this time Korra rested on his chest in silence. Sleepily drifting off till the sun went down and they had to return home.

Returning to the Great hall to dine with his family was like a punishment after the moments he spent with Korra. Ivar parading Margrethe around like a won prize was laughable. Especially after the thing, the slave confessed to him.

"It makes me so happy you are with a woman," Aslaug told her youngest and then turned to her other children.  "The rest of you should already be married. Ubbe, you should have children."

"I probably already have." They all chuckled, but Aslaug wasn't amused by them.

"Just because you are the sons of a king does not mean you can be irresponsible. It's important to find a woman and settle down."

He couldn't help but scoff, glaring at his mother. "I thought I had found a woman. But you forbid me from asking for her hand."

"You don't have to love the woman. As a king's son, you can have as many women as you like... But you need one to breed with."

"Why bind some other woman to me when I already have one that could give me children if I just asked her."

Aslaug shook her head and waved him off. "Korra is not wife material."

"Why not?"

"Because she is crazy." Ivar laughed.

Sigurd's gaze snapped over at him. "Shut your mouth, Boneless!"

"She runs around dressed as a man and talks to herself. She is always dirty and has no manners, brother. I am just saying that she is not good for you."

"What do you know of women, Ivar, huh? If it weren't for Ubbe, you would have never seen one naked. Besides the mother, of course. No other woman would ever love you. And she doesn't even love you; she pities you. We all do. Sometimes we wish she just left you to the wolves."

"Sigurd, that is enough! I know your feelings for this girl. But she does not befit a prince. If you really care for her, I will find her a good match that fits her more. A nice boy who will treat her nicely."

"Kora doesn't want to marry anyone! Especially not a stranger that you chose for her! She would throw herself off a cliff before marrying him!"

"That's a shame then. She would've made such a lovely bride."

"What a shame she's fucked in the head," Ivar said, and the next moment, Sigurd threw himself on top of him, and a fight broke out.

He met Korra at the hour of the wolf. Her standing there with her hair messy from sleep, covered with a shawl for extra warmth. He pulled his fur cloak around her shoulders and flattened down her hair. "What happened to your face?"

"I fought with Ivar."

"So, the usual. What was it this time? Did he wreck your hairbrush? Mess with your oud?" She teased and danced closer to him, but it did nothing to lift his mood.

He sighed and took her hands in his, looking at her with soft eyes. "It was about you. Mother is pushing us into marriage, and when I suggested you, he said some things."

Korra smiled at him and nodded, tears gathering in her eyes. "He called me crazy, didn't he?"

Sigurd tried to lie to her, but he just couldn't when she looked so heartbroken. "Don't lie, Sigurd. Everyone says so. And maybe he is right. I mean, I am sure your mother doesn't approve either."

"It doesn't matter what mother or any of them think! We can run away and marry in secret. We could get a little cottage far away from all the eyes and responsibilities, with little goats and a lake nearby."

Korra shook her head and smiled at him sadly. "You know that would never work. Father was right; it wouldn't last."

"It won't if you just give up, Korra! Just say yes, and I will take you away from here! I will make you the happiest bride in all of Norway. Just say, yes!"

"No." With a tearful smile, she dropped his hand and walked away, trying her hardest not to look back and fall into his arms. She wanted to tell him yes so badly. But he was a Ragnarsson and a prince. It wasn't right to keep him all to herself and abandon all the glory that awaited him in the future.

After the proposal, she accepted Aslaug's suitor and let their mothers plan her wedding to a man she never met before. Her heart longed for her sweet Sigurd and his songs and kisses and hugs. He grew angry and fought with his brothers more than before.

No matter how many times he tried to seek her out and talk to her, she avoided him like the plague and concentrated on her upcoming wedding. After both Ragnar and Aslaug died and Ubbe married Margrethe, she though Sigurd would focus on getting revenge on the Saxons.

But he was always so fiercely loyal to her. So when she saw him standing there on her wedding day, it broke her heart once more. It was like a cruel riddle - who was more hurt? Her with her unhappy marriage or him all alone and angry.

Her new husband wasn't ugly or cruel. He was sweet and kind, patient above all else. But he wasn't the one she wanted.

"I swear." He said confidently, smiling down at her encouragingly to repeat the words.

"I swear." She echoed with a shake of her head, letting her new husband kiss her. Her eyes subtly drifted to Sigurd's retreating frame in the distance. Tears trailed down her cheeks, but she told him that they were from happiness.

She was a married woman now, her husband, a respectable merchant. Rich but not too much and gentle. Korra expected to forget about everything and live a happy life with many kids. A year into her marriage and Ubbe returned to Kattegat with his brother Sigurd. When she saw him get off the boat, her heart leaped, and she fought back a smile. Her husband, of course, ignored it, too focused on his work to notice her.

In the night, the hour of the wolf especially, she found Sigurd in their usual spot. He looked at her with sad eyes and tried to leave her alone. But something in her screamed out for her to stop him, so she did. "Why did you two come home alone? What happened to your brothers?"

"We fought."

"So, the usual." She smiled shyly as he laughed and nodded. The awkwardness all gone, as if they never split apart.

"This one was more serious. Nearly got an axe to the chest."

"What?" Korra shrieked out and pulled his tunic back to see the damage. True to his word, a thin scar on his chest was a bit above his heart. She stared at him awestruck, worried for his life. How close she was to losing him. Even though he was no longer hers.

"I am fine. I swear." She teared up and pulled back, cradling her hands close to her heart, still feeling his warmth by her. "How are you?"

"Married life is a bliss. He is very nice and kind. Patient and everything your mother promised he would be. We never hunger or fight... I should be happy and content..."

"But?"

"But... I am so lonely."  She sobbed out and looked back at him to see the same expression on his face. "They were all right, Sigurd. I am no wife material. I am so void and empty while he tries so hard. He wants children, and all I can do is nod along with like some broken little pathetic creature."

He strode over to her and pulled her into his arms, whispering into her ear how much he loved her and how perfect she was. For the first time in a year, she felt happy. Despite the tears and guilt she felt, she finally felt whole and content. Maybe it was wrong of her to do this; she was a worried woman now. Had a reputation to protect and a man to be true to. And yet she kissed him and liked it. She fell for Sigurd when she was just a child, and never would she stop loving him. She fell, and so did he.

#sigurd snake in the eye #sigurd ragnarsson #sigurd lothbrok #Sigurd #viking #history vikings #vikings #sigurd x oc #original female character #original character

[lowkeyassgard]

DAY 8 OF LOKI VS. EARTH: FACEBOOK.

Day 8 of Loki vs. Earth and today Loki is confused and pissed off by Facebook.

One shot summary: Loki reads books and wants friends to talk to about said books. Loki joins Facebook to find said friends to talk about said books.

Author’s Note: Hi. I started something called the quarantine series. It’s going to be a series of fun and light hearted one shots to help readers and other writers get through this hard time. I made a a03 collection and a tumblr tag. To join just write a fun, soft, and/or light hearted one shot and post it to the collection @Quarantine_Series or tag it on tumblr as #quarantine series. Anyways enjoy!

After a few months of living on Earth, Valkyrie had bought Loki a phone as a present. With his more positive mindset and less “I will rule the world” attitude she thought it would be a nice way of bringing him into the modern world. People say you can do anything and everything on a phone

Loki used it just for books.

On the first day of having his phone Loki discovered that you could download books and read them on this device. In the comfort of your hand and at your own speed. It was glorious. They were called ebooks and to Loki they were the greatest thing he had discovered on Midgard.

He read all day long. If he wasn’t doing the duties asked of him he was in his bed reading a new book on his phone. At this point he had read hundreds of books. Sometimes 20 books a day. He read anything he could find on every topic. He began to understand Midgard and the way people acted the way they did.

The day that Valkyrie found out that he just used his phone for reading she was appalled. She had spent a good bit of change on the phone and he wasn’t using it for the purpose she intended. She intended him to use it to interact with the Midgard world, make friends, and have fun. All of the apps were already installed and yet the only one he cared about was Apple Books.

No matter what she said Loki just did not care about it. Why talk to people when he converse with all his favorite fictional characters? Why deal with human drama when he could learn about history? Why get out of bed when he could stay in bed?

After a solid talk and Valkyrie ordering as his king Loki agreed to give social media a chance. He clicked on the blue icon with a fancy f in the middle. It came up with a welcome to Facebook page.

“Facebook. Do I put my face on a book?” Loki thought to himself. Maybe Facebook was where you uploaded photos and texts to a book all about your life. Like an autobiography but digitalized for all to see.

The first step was to make an account. It asked for an email and a password. The only email he had was the one he had set up to attach his books to. He typed in “[email protected]” for the email and then “godofmischief” as the password. Easy and simple.

Next he was to select a photo for his profile. Well Loki didn’t have any photos of himself. He didn’t have any phone of anything. He didn’t know why people had to document and capture their face… it wasn’t going to change every few minutes. Loki pressed a button and it opened up to be his face. Oh the camera. Since he didn’t have a photo of himself it wanted him to take one. Well he would cave to the wishes of the technology just this once. Loki stared into the camera while it took his photo. He looked as though he was a greasy 30 year old man that was desperate for any form of interaction. Perfect. Loki selected next.

Then came the questions. What was his name? He tried to type in “ I am Loki Odinson, prince of Asgard, rightful king of jotunheim, god of mischief” but it cut off after As.. Why ask for his full title if it couldn’t handle it. Angry that it didn’t have the capacity for it all he shortened it to “Prince Loki.”

Where was he from? Easy Asgard. Well actually Jotunheim but he was practically kidnapped and raised on lies. Okay let’s just put “Not Earth”. Where did he live? Easy. After the destruction of his home palace he now lived in New Asgard on Earth which was technically Norway. Once again they didn’t want the full story just a location. Why ask if they didn’t want to know? Loki groaned. He clanked in “Earth”

Where did he work and go to school? Loki did not work. He sat around and enjoyed himself while others worked. He was a man of great pleasure. He was too occupied of his own needs to do a job. He ended up typing in “self employed.” He was taught by his now deceased mother everything he was taught. She taught him to read, to write, to do magic. There was no school; just Frigga. In that box he typed in “the arms of Frigga.” Which was the absolute truth.

Relationship status? Single. Lonely. Fuck Midgardians.

Lastly a bio for people to get to know him. What was something he could write that would allow anyone that clicked on his page to truly grasp his godlike personality and existence? He smirked. In the last box he happily typed. “I tuned into a snake. Almost killed my brother. Tried to topple the government. Found a love for books. In that order.”

Loki was now an active member of Facebook. Valkyrie would be proud of him. He was doing it. Taking the first step to make friends and overcome his burning hatred for anyone that wasn’t from Asgard. Valkyrie has explained that people would send him friends requests and once he accepted it they could see each other’s posts and converse. So all Loki had to do was make a post and wait for the friends request to start pouring in.

What should his first post be? Lol knew just what to post.

“I’m Loki Odinson. God of Mischief. Now humans I ask you? What are you the god of? “ Loki pressed post and sat back in his bed triumphantly. He was pissed off that the site didn’t have the capacity to handle anything about him and he had no choice but to shorten everything down but the thought of finding a human that didn’t make him want to take over was exhilarating.

Loki waited a few hours. In that time Valkyrie and Thor both added him on Facebook. Thor said he even made a post to his millions of friends to go friend his mischievous brother. So Loki waited some more.

After a few hours Loki came back to see he had 200 friends requests. He was like a kid on Christmas morning. He accepted every one of them.

But then Loki started to hate this site. Why you might ask? The people were absurd and ignorant. Hundreds of people starting replying to his post saying “god of drinking coffee” “goddess of throwing it back.” “God of donuts.” They thought it was funny to joke. To be a god is no joking matter. To be a god is surely not to be of such foolish items. Gods are powerful. Gods do not throw it back or drink coffee. At least not just those things. To be the god of something is to have it so instill into your being that if it was taken away you would be nothing. Coffee and donuts… humans knew nothing of sacred godlike belongings.

Worse people started poking him. Every few minutes he got the notification that so and so poked him. He just wanted to reach through the phone and break whatever finger they were poking him with. How dare they poke a god. To poke him like some kind of farm animal. He would be respected.

Even worse these women started messaging him asking to see his snake. His snake what could they mean. Loki could not shape shift into a snake and take a photo. They sent him revealing photos begging for his snake. No they could not see his snake form. They were not worthy.

The things these people posted. They whined and groaned about their lives. Posting about their day at work or what their snotty kid did today. No one cared and certainly not Loki. He thought Facebook would be humans worshipping him and begging to get to know him. So far no one had asked him any questions about himself or his childhood. How could they befriend him if they did not know his tragic backstory?

Valkyrie had said if he wanted to become friends with people he should make a post that was more relatable to humans. Loki figured that most humans knew how to read. So for his last attempt of the night to connect to these midgardians he made a simple and relatable post.

“What was the last book you read?”

Loki could not wait for their responses. He loved talking about literature with people. He was excited until the responses actually came in.

Loki was appalled, disgusted, and scared all in one.

People were replying such radical things. Someone said “I read the constitution everyday to protect my gun rights.” Another person “ I read erotic fiction when my husband won’t touch me.” Another saying “ I read company reviews so I can properly bitch my way to a discount the next time I visit there.” And then worst of all “Why read when we can do something more exciting?” What on earth could be more exciting than reading a good book? Yes, Loki loved a good party. Loved drugs and alcohol. Loved sex and orgasms. Loved it all but nothing would top the serotonin that went to his brain when he finished the last page of a book.

The people on Facebook were helpless. Loki slammed his phone on to the counter. If they couldn’t partake in a discussion over books then they could not be discussed to at all. He would not be posting on Facebook again. He would not poke or message another human. He would leave his profile up just so they could think about what they done. Ran off a god that could have blessed their own life.

Loki got in his bed and thought about all the amazing books he would read in the next day and how one day someone would want to discuss them with him. One day he would have a friend. Until then fuck you creepy women that wanted his snake. Fuck middle age men that whined. Fuck everyone.

#quarantine series #loki #loki one shot #loki smut #loki fic #loki of asgard #loki of jotunheim #loki of earth #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston oneshot #marvel oneshot #marvel smut #smut #fluff #one shot #a03

[violasmirabiles]

quarantine tag

got tagged by @gloria-gloom, thank you xx

are you staying home from work/school?

sure am, all classes were moved online. but to be fair most of the classes i have were online classes or just essays to begin with so this only really affects my bachelors seminar So Thats Fun

if you are staying home, who is with you?

im staying with my parents at the moment, i came here a couple weeks back and dont know when im going back to joensuu

are you a homebody?

yeah, i cant say my routine was thwarted too badly or anything. but then i cant even say im actively doing anything because im so depressed i was already deep in apathy before all this started

an event you were looking forward to that got cancelled?

nordic student singers’ summit 2020 in trondheim, norway. wouldve been in late april. the university choir im in was supposed to attend but naturally they had to cancel the event. this was when we couldve still technically traveled there, it was just that events of more than 500 people were canceled. the travel ban came a few days later. we still dont know if and how much of our money we can get back. then of course here in finland the choirs spring concert was canceled because the entire choir season was canceled. so the choirs broke and thats fun

what movies have you watched recently?

lets see. well ive been on a star wars kick now, have watched em all now but keep returning to the original trilogy. i also had a mamma mia marathon with mom. also, the millennium trilogy. and although i somehow still havent gotten round to it i will probably watch saw like four times in a row at some point

what shows are you watching? 

dalziel and pascoe because my parents are rewatching it again so that means im also rewatching it again

what music are you listening to?

lana del rey! ive been listening to lana del rey so much now. also yes, particularly close to the edge

what are you reading?

it by stephen king. finally finished doctor sleep a few days back

what are you doing for self care?

playing the sims 2 but the games a little fucky (quite possibly bc i downloaded it online) so im currently trying to find a disk version - and since im used to a Certain Standard while playing ultimate collection, im trying to find all the EPs and as many stuff packs as i can. mansion & garden pack seems particularly hard to find and thats unfortunate cos theres a couple of things (not essential by any means but Nice Things) in it that i like. but. yeah. also ive been baking more than usual (not like All The Time but i normally never bake). so far ive made apple pie (was delicious), cookies from a mix of ready made gingerbread dough and ‘regular’ cookie dough (won der ful) and now im planning to make cinnamon rolls and am trying to talk my brother (and possibly his girlfriend) into joining me. coming to live with my parents was also something like self care so as to not isolate myself completely, and also because of money. (although this one has its downsides too and there are so many jokes about the shining that i could make here but lets not)

i tag @blackboard-monitor, @planetoidi, @too-spoopy-to-be-frukd, @brilliancetheory, @alanwhite & @aredhels!

#got tagged

[laketaj24]

The Spoils of War I

Author’s Note: For those who don’t know and have recently been added to my taglist i can be really smutty. This is a really SMUTTY fic. My taglist is open, this is going to be considered a Last Kingdom Fic, because the story line I’m following is going to be mainly in their universe!! I hope you all enjoy!! (My UBBE is the Ubbe mentioned. Not the Ubba mentioned in their world though, and i did say my MY because I have a problem lmao.)

Requested: Hello!! Can you please write me a fic with Dark!Daddy!Ubbe and Dark!Daddy!Uhtred? I would also love it to have bondage, with some edging!!! Either you are a house hold slave or you have been taken as a captive/spoil of war and they both have to have you!!! Thank you, love your work!!😍😍😍 

Warnings: Threesome, Edging

The Last Kingdom Masterlist 

Nothing was said of the slave Ubbe and Uhtred and had taken from the win at the last battle and that was the way they had expected it to be. Y/N stayed within the confines of the great hall in Cookham and there she done the bidding of the two who had conquered her.

“Y/N.” Ubbe called from the eastern hall corridor of the hall. “Here!” He was quieter than Uhtred. She’d taken notice to it, but it didn’t bring her any comfort, just a subtle feeling of uneasiness every time she was around him.

“Yes, Prince Ubbe.” Y/N shuffled her feet along the planked floors and quickly made her way to the young Prince. He, the oldest son of Ragnar Lodbrok by Queen Aslaug, had decided to side with King Alfred in exchange for land, but like Uhtred there had been trick and snares along the way to obtaining said land. He was forced to reside in Cookham while he pledged his servitude to King Alfred. Y/N was not native to the lands of England. She was born and raised in Norway.

“Hurry along.” He said. The impatience poured from his voice.

When she made it to the Prince she kneeled at the door as he had directed her to every time she was in his presence, she wasn’t used as a normal slave for Prince Ubbe his appetite was far hungrier and darker than English woman could provide for her. “I am here.”

“I see. Take off your clothes.” He folds his arms across his chest with his lips pressed in a firm line. ‘Quickly.”

“My lord it is cold.”

“Take them off or I will take them off for you.” She doesn’t hesitate further slipping the dress from her shoulders allowing it to bunch at her feet. He walks around her admiring her with a smug smile on his face, tracing the course finger tip down her spine with a groan. “How are you liking it here Y/N? Does it not remind you of home?”

“No, it does not.”

“I would like to remind you of home,” There is no warning as he slips a finger into her causing her legs to buckle but she knows better than to allow her knees to touch the ground. She catches herself breathing deeply as he finds his stride, slicking the sides of her thighs with her own arousal.

“She’s doing so well, brother.” Uhtred said from the doorway. He steps around Y/N entering the room and takes a seat on the bed admiring the marvel before him. Y/N standing with her legs spread and Ubbe fucking her with his fingers. She bit her lip to control the steady stream of muffled moans that tried to escape. ‘Don’t you think brother not a word?”

“We will see.” Ubbe’s fingertips work on her clit taking her to where she yearned to be, she was so close her mouth watered and then nothing. He pulled away. She felt empty as her heart thumped and plead for more, one touch anything. “What shall we do with her today?’

“We should reward her.” Uhtred shrugged out of the large fur placing it on the corner of the bed. He then made his way up the bed watching as the woman stood before him with a heaving chest and hooded eyes. “She has worked hard.”

“Reward her for doing her job?” Ubbe chuckled as he took a step back from Y/N. He admired her curves and drug his teeth over his bottom lip. “We should fuck her, but she can only cum once. Anymore and we make sure she can’t walk in the morning. It’s a win for us either way.”

“You are not wrong.” Uhtred laughs. He stands from the bed and touches her hand. “Y/N, on the battlefield there is a such thing as knowing the art of control. Knowing when to attack. When to hold your ground, when to make sure your enemy isn’t going to overtake you. Tonight, we are your enemy.” He grinned at her. His thumb rubbed over hand palm. “If we over take you it will be more than you can handle. If you hold your ground… the outcome could be victorious. And you could enjoy the spoils of war.”

Y/N thought for a moment. The two men were two different forms of extreme. She had been here before. Ubbe was rough and he could overtake and dominate her in the first ten minutes while Uhtred brought the sweet balance. It was not as if she had a choice in the matter in the first place. She took a step towards Uhtred placing her hand on his shoulder and leaning in to kiss him. His lips curved up to form that smile that was rarely there lately and he tugged her down to him. The kiss was slow, his warm lips met hers. She couldn’t open her eyes as she relished the feeling of his lips on hers, but it was disrupted by Ubbe grabbing her over to him. He flipped her onto the furs placing his thumb and index finger at her chin. “You do not cum.” He whispered.

Ubbe’s sharp eyes met hers and she for the first time saw a twinge of jealously as he place his lips on hers. His kiss was eager, hungry even as he nibbled on her bottom lip and his tongue danced with hers. And then she felt it. Uhtred’s lips danced up her thighs and his tips grazed the slopes. She flinched and Ubbe appeared amused as he dipped his head down to her breast. He sucked at her tit and she opened her mouth with a gasp. This was about to be harder than she expected.

Uhtred’s tongue found their way to her pillowed folds and pushed through, touching her clit and then sucking. Y/N gripped his head but there was no stopping him. She writhed and Ubbe watched as shook with pleasure nearing an orgasm only for him to stop and watch her come down from her high. “You are so beautiful.” Uhtred praised. “And so fucking lovely how you do what we say. You’re a good girl”

“That was just once.” Ubbe chided.

“It doesn’t really matter.” Uhtred laughed. Y/N darted her eyes over to him and took notice that he never gave her credit where it was due. It was twice. Twice for the night. Uhtred rolled his eyes playfully and flipped her over. “I want to fuck her either way.”

“And I’ll test this beautiful mouth.”  

She gulped at the thought. Uhtred pulled her to him arching the nape of her back and spreading her legs. There was no need for any additional foreplay, she was ready for him. Uhtred smiled at the way she glistened and leaned over her body. He felt the curve of her ass and gripped her ass. “Relax, love.” He said. The comfort washed over her like rain. She felt the tip of his thick cock at her entrance and with one sharp thrust he impaled himself into her. She lost her balance falling forward onto Ubbe who lifted her. He stroked her hair back from her face but it wasn’t for comfort as he guided her face to his cock and her lips wrapped around him.

Uhtred’s pace was lulling, the rhythm of his strokes brought her a warm feeling that spread throughout her body. He gripped her hips as he slammed fully into her, hitting her g-spot each time making sure she moaned muffled around Ubbe’s dick every time. She clenched and gripped him, and he had to stop himself from coating her walls five minutes in because she felt like velvet. Each stroke was taking him one step closer to the gods. “You feel so good Y/N.” He whispered leaning back down feeling fuller for her. “Don’t you want to come for me?”

Ubbe’s head rest against the wall as she bobbed on him. She took him to the back of her throat, swallowing around him and then stroking to his tap and taking him whole again. His sounds were enough to make her cum alone. He didn’t last long as he came for her, spilling his seed down her throat, holding her head until she swallowed every drop.

Y/N was short of breath as Uhtred continued his assault. Lifting her from the bed and fucking into her harder. He slammed into her over and over until both their bodies grew and succumb to the pleasure.

 Tags: @ceridwenofwales @whenimaunicorn @titty-teetee @supernaturalvikingwhore @geekandbooknerd @captstefanbrandt @pokeasleepingsmaug @carlya65 @therealcalicali @sparklemichele @earthsmightiestasses @stardustnthings @lisinfleur @dangerousvikings @greennightspider @awesomerextyphoon @allonesharingonebreath @cas-kingdom  @rabeccablake @savismith @smashedpeaxh @kittybites-94 @naaladareia @umnoyeahno @ivarsshieldmadien @equalstrashflavoredtrash @siren-queen03 @sparklemichele @wilddrabble @imgoldielikehawn @tomarisela @naaladareia @vikingsmania @readsalot73 @oddsnendsfanfics @amour-quinn @wheredidallthedreamersgo @unsure-but-trying@riotkatt  @captstefanbrandt @lol-haha-joke @cinnabearice @tephi101 @grungyblonde @igetcarriedawaywithyou @sunnyfortomorrow@kelliarnaxsin @sincerelysinister @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#vikings #vikings x last kingdom #the last kingdom fandom #let's be danes ⚔️ #uhtred x you #ubbe imagine #ubbe fanfiction #reader x uhtred

[marvelmadam08]

The Princess & The Nomad (11)

With your hypnosis gone and your identity fully known, you and Steve reunite and pick you right where your left off. But with The Avengers disbanded and a new danger looming in the future, what’ll keep everything from falling apart?

Summary: After a quick birthday celebration, you and the others plan an impromptu trip to Norway.

Warnings: Mentions of previous smut, hints of Bucky x Reader? Final goodbyes

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while for an update, I’m jumping back and forth between this blog and my original pieces and looking into self-publishing. Lots of big things in the works. Also if you haven’t seen Message From the King you should, Chadwick does an amazing job in that film. Enjoy!

“How many hickies are you trying to give me?” You laughed slash moaned while Steve kissed and bit in random parts of your body

“One for every year you’ve been alive.” He kissed on your pelvic bone, the next spot for him to mark

“I’m 84.”

“Exactly, so let me continue before I lose count.”

“Yes sir.” Your fingers raked through his hair, watching him kiss down your body “Best birthday yet.”

“You made mine special, I’m returning the favor.” He bit down on your hip, holding you in place with his weight, you shuddered softly. When he was satisfied with his work Steve kissed up your stomach before lightly pecking your lips.

“You know we haven’t left this room since I got here. They might think we’re dead.”

“It’s not the worse way to go. And we did leave.”

“For thirty minutes, to find the kitchen. And you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” You nudged him with your foot, subtly reminding him of how carried away the two of you got when feeding each other strawberries. Ending up with the two of you hiding in the pantry, half naked and waiting for the guard to leave so you could return to the room.

“We’re lucky we didn’t get caught.” You started to move to the edge of the bed when Steve pulls you back into his chest “Steve-”

“I missed a spot.” He kissed on your shoulder blade

“We told Sam we’d hang out with them today.” You giggled and pulled away “It’s rude to decline an invitation the day of, especially without a viable reason.”

“I want you to myself, that’s reason enough.” Steve watched you move over to the full length mirror that sat in the corner. He smiled as you assessed the bite marks and handprints he left behind.

“Steve, I look like a dalmatian.”

He chuckled before he moved to get ready himself. Despite his not so subtle suggestion for taking a shower together, you didn’t want to run the risk of never making it out the room, so you decided to take separate showers. You watched Steve get ready, since you only had to shimmer on a new outfit, a long sleeved shirt, a scarf wrapped around your neck and long jeans, thanks to him.

“That’s not going to look suspicious.” He told you as you both walked back down to the study to meet everyone else “It’s the middle of summer.”

“Would you rather have me in a skimpy skirt and a low cut top, showing off?” You questioned jokingly

“If you wore anything of the sort, we definitely wouldn’t have made it out the room.”

“Holy shit, she can still walk.” Sam was the first one to open his mouth when you and Steve entered the study “And sporting a modest scarf, odd piece of clothing for summer in Wakanda.”

“My bikini is at the cleaners.”

“Happy birthday Kiddo.” Sam moves in to give you a strong hug

“Thanks Sam.”

“Didn’t think you two would show up.” Bucky said, leaning against the wall on the far side of the room “Guess I owe Nat fifty bucks now.”

“In American currency if you will.” Natasha smirked “Happy birthday, Rayna.”

It took you a second to remember she was addressing you. “Thanks Nat. Shall we go and eat, I’m starving.”

“Well you’ve been working up an appetite for the last two days.”

You all began to file out of the room back into the hall.

“Seriously, like rabbits.” Sam added “I pity who ever had the room next to yours- oh wait, that was me.”

“Sorry Sam.” Steve wrapped his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek.

“No you’re not. But you will be when Bucky and I tell (Y/N) all about the goat incident.”

“Stooping low Sam.” A light blush showed up on Steve’s cheeks

“What about a goat?”

“Apparently Stevie here missed you so much that he started having dreams about you.” Bucky started, trailing behind the group “Very vivid dreams, if you catch my drift.”

“So we’re camping out at Bucky’s place, resting as much as we can before we leave again. Steve, being the fossil that he is, fell asleep first. And starts talking in his sleep, calling for you.” Sam gestures to you

“I thought he was having a nightmare again, but when I looked up he was spooning one of my goats. And she was not happy about it.”

“Now the damn goat won’t leave him alone.” Sam laughed, you did your best to hide your amusement but failed horribly

“I’m sorry for laughing, but you have to admit it’s funny.” You said to Steve between giggles “I have tons of embarrassing stories from Asgard.”

“And you’re welcomed to tell us all about it over dessert.” T'challa greets you at the doors leading to a screening room. He reached for your hand to kiss it lightly “Princess (Y/N), happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

Fast approaching footsteps turned your attention to Shuri, who pushed her brother out of the way and wrapped her arms around you.

“Happy birthday. How are you feeling?”

Nat shot Sam a warning glare before he could say anything inappropriate. Steve did the same to Bucky.

“I feel great, no side effects that I know of so far.”

“I got you something.” Shuri reached into her pocket and pulled out a small gift box “Well I made it.”

Sitting inside the box was a bracelet made of round black beads with tiny engravings on them.

“They’re call Kimoyo beads, made from vibranium, they're multipurpose and have better reception than a cell phone.”

“It’s beautiful Shuri, thank you.” You slipped the bracelet on your wrist, they shift and secure themselves on your wrist so they wouldn’t move or fall off. You turn your hand over and the words ‘happy birthday’ shine from the beads “I just hope my powers won’t short it out.”

“It’s perfectly safe.” she assures you before turning to Bucky “Nice to see you again White Wolf.”

“Same to you Shuri." Bucky grinned

"Are you joining us for the movie?” Steve ask

“Unfortunately I have work to do in my lab, plus I am not old enough to sit in on adult conversations.” Shuri rolled her eyes

“Mother’s words, not mine.” T'challa argued “You will get your chance when you are older.”

Shuri mimicked her brother’s voice under her breath as she walked away, a guard right behind her. T'challa stood to the side to let the rest of you in the dimly lit room. The smell of food filled the room, over to your right was a table full of food complete with chicken and beef stir fry, dinner rolls, and few ribs and cesar salad.

“Whoa, you went all out Sam. I would’ve been fine with pizza.” You tell him

“I didn’t do anything.” Sam’s mouth was stuffed with half a dinner roll.

“My sister insisted, said that this should be a special birthday for you.” T'challa explained “Being back with your loved ones.”

“Oh now I wish she stayed.” You slightly pout “She didn’t have to do all this.”

“In her opinion it could’ve been better, but apparently someone ate all the strawberries that were going to be used for the shortcake.”

“Imagine that.” Steve gives you a small squeeze on the butt, you blush and bite your lip.

Everyone moved around the table, picking up different food to place on their plates. You end up drifting closer to Bucky by the crepes.

"So White Wolf? Is that what you're calling yourself now?"

He shrugged, setting down his plate to add more food "I kinda adopted it. I'm technically the black sheep here.... Well the white sheep."

"Do you like it here? You seem a lot more relaxed."

"Yeah, it's amazing. Everyone’s so welcoming, there’s little to no crime. And the sunsets are something out of movies." He gives you a friendly smile before averting his eyes again

"What's wrong?"

"Your scarf slipped." He reached up to fix your scarf back over a bite mark "Looks like everything between you and Steve is going good."

"Yeah, we said I love you for the first time."

He nods, examining a piece of broccoli. "Big step, possible wedding bells in the future?"

You blush and nudge him in his side. "I just got back, let's not jump to life altering choices."

"Alright. It's your day Princess- Rayna? (Y/N)? Which one are you going with?"

"Honestly, whichever you prefer. I have so many names at this point I’ll answer to anything.” you joke, sneaking a bit of frosting from a corner slice of cake

“Sure thing- Princess.” Bucky smiles before sauntering off to a plush chair in front of a large screen. Steve calls you over to settle in the seat next to him.

“So what are we watching? I have a year worth of movies I’ve missed out on.”

You all settle for a movie called “Message from the King”, even on their day off, Steve and the others never strayed too far from action. Although there was a lot of jeering when something unrealistic happened. Which was every twenty minutes. However, the film made you think of Odin and Thor, and how secrets tore you apart from each other, just like in movie.

“You alright?” Steve asks you, squeezing your hand

“I have another birthday request.” You tell him

“Please not here, don’t ruin the screening room with your non-stop super human, Asgardian sex-capades.” Sam looks at you with tired eyes

“It’s not that Sam. I want to go to Norway, it doesn’t have to be right now but the sooner the better.”

“What’s in Norway?” Nat asks, helping herself to another beer

“My grandfather, I want to see him.”

“Your grandfather, as in Odin?” Steve’s shocked expression spoke for everybody “The man who threw you out of Asgard?”

“Yes. He said we would see each other again before…” You looked back to the screen at the rolling credits, then shrug “I don’t know, maybe it’s a stupid idea. If he wanted to see me then he’d find me right?”

“You’ve met him already?” Bucky leaned in a bit from the other side of Sam

“Yeah, I sort of broke him out of a retirement home.”

“What do you get into when we’re not around?” Sam wondered

“I haven’t even got the chance to tell you about the huge python that nearly killed me.”

“The what?” Steve’s face grew pale

“Nothing.” You rub reassuring circles on his back

“You can tell us all about that on the way to Norway.” Natasha stood, Steve gave her a stern look “Clearly she’s made amends with him Rogers, don’t give me that look.”

“I think you should go.” T'challa chimes in “Family, no matter how dysfunctional, is all we have in the end.”

“Steve, I can understand why you don’t like him. But if he hadn’t cast me out then, I wouldn’t be here now.” You tell him “I’m going to say my last goodbyes to him. I’d like it if you were there, if not I’ll go alone.”

“After the year I’ve had, I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulders “Wheels up in thirty.”

“We can never have a normal week.” Sam muttered as he stood “I’m taking the dinner rolls.”

* * *

When Steve said he wasn’t letting you out of his sights he meant it, you figured that out when he had you sit in the co-pilot seat before the quinjet began to take off.

“Steve I still can’t drive a car, what in Norns sakes makes you think I can fly the jet?” You asked as he strapped you in

“You aren’t flying, I am and if you need to switch out with Nat then you will.” He assured you with a kiss on your cheek

“Enough, let’s get this show on the road!” Sam punched the roof of the jet, earning an annoyed look from Nat and Steve

You peaked out the window, over at Bucky who gave a small salute from where he stood, along with T'challa and Shuri.

“Why isn’t Bucky going? He’s not afraid to fly with me is he?” You wave back to them while Steve settled in. The last time you and Bucky were on the jet together, you had just tried to kill him thanks to Dr. Schmidt.

“No, he opted out of the trip, in case anything were to happen while we’re away.” Steve says “Buck doesn’t go on missions anymore. Not even small ones. Doesn’t want to risk- relapse.”

“Oh.. is he gonna be fine while we’re gone? I’d hate taking all of you away from each.” Tony was the first person to pop up in your mind, you promised to check in with him, told him he wouldn’t lose anymore family.

“Yeah, he knows we can’t stay too long to begin with, but it anything happens T'challa will get in contact with us.” Steve flipped a few switches on the console before the jet lifted off the landing pad on the ground

“So Rayna, how are we gonna find your grandfather?” Nat asks you once you’re out of Wakanda’s barrier

“I could ask Heimdall, he might know where my grandfather is, he sees all.”

“What do you mean?” Sam’s eyebrow lifted

“Heimdall was the bifrost keeper, until Loki falsely charged him for treason. He has the gift of sight, if he wishes to see you then he will be able to find you anywhere you are.” You explained

“Loki? I thought he was dead.”

“So did I, Thor still believes he’s gone.”

“When was the last time you spoke with Thor?” Steve was the one to ask this question

“Four months? Maybe five. He continued his search for the stones, he believes I’m still on Asgard.”

“Why didn’t you go to find him? Instead of come back here. I mean, if it were me I’d look for the person who could help the most.” Sam suggested

“The world may be small but the universe is infinite. Finding my father is like searching for an empty chamber during Ostara.” You laughed at your joke, the others looked around, confused “It’s…. Nevermind.”

You folded your legs into lotus position, and closed your eyes. “Heimdall, give me sight.”

You were by a creek this time, not too far from the marketplace in Asgard but still far enough so no one could see you. A light splashing drew in your attention, behind you Heimdall was kneeling by the creek, cleaning his face.

“Forgive me for the intrusion.” You tell him

“No apologies necessary Princess. Just glad you didn’t call an half hour prior, I was bathing.” He chuckled “You wish for new information?”

“Yes, I need help finding Odin. I know he’s in Norway, but I don’t know where exactly.”

“Unfortunately I am unable to locate him.”

“How is that possible?”

“Without the bifrost, I can only see so far. My powers are limited, and I will need them in the future.” He rose to his feet and began to stroll upstream, you followed

“But then how will I find him?”

“Magic, you did learn tracking spells during your time here correct?”

“Yes, but how will I be able to reach you? What if you need me? Or if my father is in trouble?”

“You are in tuned with every soul you meet, as Goddess of life and light you will feel if your loved ones are in danger.” He stared off to the distance “I must leave, use what you have learned Princess.” He paused “And I must apologize once more, for my wrongdoings against you.”

“There’s no need to apologize to me Heimdall. I have forgiven you.”

He nods solemnly “You really do look like your mother. Norns rest her soul. It has been an honor knowing you Rayna.”

“You speak as if this is the last time we’ll see each other.” He didn’t respond, only gave you a light hearted smile “Heimdall?”

You blinked and you were back on the jet. Steve was the first to speak, seeing the concerned look in your eyes.

“Did he tell you where Odin is?”

“No, he couldn’t. Without the bifrost his powers are getting weaker. But he said I should be able to find him on my own.”

“What’s wrong Ray?” Natasha asked when she saw your face

“I think that was the last time I was going to speak with him.” You wiped away the forming tear “I think someone found him.”

“I’m sorry Doll.” Steve reached over to hold your hand

“He was my last chance to find Thor, and protect my family. Last chance to return to Asgard.” You took a shaky breath, Sam was looking over the jet, his own paranoia setting in place. You felt his anxiety “I’m good Sam, just processing. The closer we get to Norway the easier it’ll be for me to find Odin. Maybe he can help me fix this.”

“I’m sure he can.” Natasha gave your shoulder a squeeze “Now about this giant python that nearly killed you.”

Taglist: @classybai @moisoverennyi-thestarlessone @floralandspice @bi-bi-bi-bisexualz @theonelittleone @grey-junior @marvelousbuckystark @captainsthor @sebbystanlover-vk @jovialcalzonepaperzine @chook007 @dontchawishyouknewhowtosalsa @geekysimmerthings @codename-buckybarnes @marvelfansworld @emmaschhh @bruisedfaye @mackyk06 @teamcap4bucky @paigeem96 @lily-horvitz @tshollandlove @nerdypisces160 @mrs-captain-evans

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#steve rogers #captain america x reader #nomad #avengers #bucky x reader #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #tchalla #shuri udaku #wakanda #asgard #thorsdottir #the captain and the culprit #sequel #message from the king #chadwick boseman #odin allfather #james buchanan barnes #heimdall #cacw #catfa

[thearrangment-phff]

LXIX.

November 2018

There was the Prince of Wales’ 70th birthday celebration within days and a trip from King Harald V of Norway to London for at the Anglo-Norse Society. King Harald had been a first cousin of Isabella’s grandmother Josephine Charlotte, Grand Duchess of Luxembourg and the two shared some fond memories of the former Grand Duchess. It was a strategic move on behalf on Buckingham Palace to have Isabella at the Queen’s side considering Isabella’s blood relations.

But of course, the most important thing was Isabella and Harry had two announcements to make to the public. The first had been that the couple and their two sons had officially moved into St. James Palace after Isabella had personally funded the renovations for a lease that was not disclosed to the public. The separation of the offices of The Duke & Duchess of Cambridge and The Duke & Duchess of Sussex was now going in effect. Just days later, Isabella and Harry announced they were expecting another child in the Summer of 2019.  

The news of another royal baby had shocked not only the world but more importantly, the friends and family of Isabella. It was then Luisa Maria, Isabella’s sister-in-law and double second cousin, had told Isabella to never contact Joachim again. Luisa explained that Isabella was stringing him along and Joachim refused to be the other man in their relationship. While it left Isabella heartbroken to find the man, she deeply loved for years was now out of her life, she truly wanted to fix things with Harry. They were about to have another child and she barely spent time with her eldest sons.

The mutual decision to work on their relationship was decided after the pregnancy announcement. It was far more difficult than anyone had thought. Joachim was still Isabella’s family and the brother of Luisa Maria, Isabella’s sister-in-law. There was no avoiding him especially whenever Isabella went to visit family in Switzerland or Belgium, Joachim would be there or someone would mention him.

December 2018

At first, the presence or mention of Joachim would make Isabella go silence or grow uncomfortable. Things quickly changed when Harry would talk to her, ask her how she is, and pay attention to her. The cold and unstable woman seemed to change to this calm and loving woman. Harry learned that Isabella wanted attention and she would latch herself to any man who paid enough thought to her and her feelings.

When Harry suggested he and Isabella go to a Christmas carol service at St. Luke’s church in London, supporting the Henry van Straubenzee Memorial Fund, Isabella immediately agreed. She had acted civil and smiled even to the Middleton family whom last time they interacted Isabella had been a stuck-up little girl. While the coldness was still there, Isabella did her best to smile and nod.

There were few engagements around the winter months so Isabella and Harry started spending more time with the Bourbon and Habsburg families. Isabella could not stop smiling since her newest niece, Juliana was going to be baptized, and Isabella was given the honor of being one of the godparents.

“What do you think?” asked Isabella as she thrilled around in a pale blue dress.

“You look fine,” replied Harry.

“Just fine? I was hoping for more than that.”

“You look beautiful?”

Isabella laughed a little, “That sounded more like a question than a statement. I’m going to go find another dress.”

“You don’t have to do that. The one you’re wearing is fine,” argued Harry.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“I don’t like the idea of leaving Charlie and Bertie.”

“They’ve been acting fussy all day. I don’t want them crying the entire time,” said Harry.

“I understand that but they will be the only children not there.”

“Would you rather our sons be there reason everyone is annoyed?”

“No,” answered Isabella.

“They’ll make an appearance at the end but I don’t want to trouble others,” explained Harry further.  

“Okay. Are you okay?”  

“Why?” asked Harry.

“Because you are always a little uneasy around my family.”

“I’m just trying to match faces with names in my head when I meet your extended family. I don’t want to call someone by the wrong name, that’s all.”

“Is that all?” asked Isabella.

“What happens if you die this time?”

Isabella was taken back by the question, “We’ll be taking more precautions. We know what to expect so we can try and prevent that as much as possible.”

“You can’t have anymore. I won’t let the three of them grow up without a mother,” fought Harry.

“Okay. I understand that, but it’s also my choice whether or not I want to risk my life at the thought of another child. I know that’s selfish but you have little to no say in what I do with my body.”

“I can’t have Charlie, Bertie, and the newest baby growing up without a mother.”

“You could always re-marry to someone you actually love and they just pretend to be there mother,” joked Isabella. Harry’s face showed that he did not think that was funny. “Sorry. Bad taste,” apologized Isabella.

“I don’t want you dead. I care about you, you should know that by now,” replied Harry.

“I do know that. If it makes you feel better, I care for you too.”

“You know we didn’t even celebrate our one-year anniversary.”

“I was still recovering from giving birth,” spoke Isabella.

“Things have been going really well for us. No more steps back like it used to be,” observed Harry.

“We just have to see how long it lasts. When it comes to me I can have a couple weeks, maybe months, of happiness then it turns into something else,” replied Isabella.

“It won’t be like that anymore. We’ll get you the proper help once our child is born.”

“Help? Makes me sound like a lunatic.”

“Makes you human. I wasn’t able to help my mother but this time it different. I won’t let history repeat itself.”

There were long seconds of silence, “Come on, we don’t want to late to Juliana’s christening.”

“Wait.”

“What?” asked Isabella.

“You look beautiful

Christmas in Norfolk, Boxing Day in Belgium, and New Years in Switzerland. There were mini trips to France, Italy, and Monaco organized by Isabella’s family. Harry and his small family seemed to travel all over Europe during their break from royal duties. Amongst the holidays, Marie Christine had given birth a daughter named Countess Charlotte Marie Gabriella Isabella Astrid Colienne Immaculate de Limburg-Stirum on December 28, 2018, in Milan, Italy. She later declared that the child would be her last and at the age of 35 she saw no reason to have any more children.

Jean, former Grand Duke of Luxembourg rang in the New Year with 18 great-grandchildren with Luisa and Isabella still pregnant. Isabella’s cousin Princess Maria Annunciata announced her engagement with another one of Isabella’s cousin Archduke Johannes of Austria. The engagement came at a great shock considering that no one knew about their short 3-month relationship shortly before.

“So, your cousin to marrying your other cousin?” asked Harry.

“It seems so,” replied Isabella.

“Isn’t that a bit weird?”  

“My mother and father did the same thing. You know how Luisa is my double second cousin, it’s because her mother and mine are cousins and her father and mine are cousins. There are other instances of this happening. Christine is an example,” explained Isabella.

“Here goes another story that will make me think,” joked Harry.

“Well, shortly before her own marriage Christine’s brother Michel married Princess Eleonora of Orleans-Braganza. Eleonora is the sister of Christine’s husband Prince Antonio of Orleans-Braganza making their children double first cousins. It was very awkward at first and in my opinion, it hasn’t gotten any better. People already think we practice incest and our family dynamic is weird so why not just play into them? Right?”

“I don’t know about that,” wondered Harry.

“Adelaide is pregnant again. She’s going to make an announcement after my grandfather’s 98th birthday celebrations.”

“How many is that now?”  

“Just three pregnancies and a wedding. A slow year if you’re asking me,” joked Isabella.

“Still more than in my family.”

“True but your family is different. We have more free will than you ever did.”

Harry was going to reply before Isabella and Harry’s private secretaries came into the room.

“What is it?” asked Harry.

“Sir, we have an issue regarding your sons.”

“Our sons?” asked Isabella a bit frightened.

“It has been pointed out that The Earl of Ross and Lord Albert were born in Belgium.”

“Yes, that is common knowledge. I went into early labor hours in Belgium after my brother married a Luisa who happens to also be a Belgian princess. What do they have to say?” asked Isabella.

“Yes, ma’am but it’s that fact which upsets people. Your sons live on taxpayer money and they were born in Belgium.”

“I can’t do anything about that. Charlie and Bertie have Belgian and British citizenship and there is nothing they can do to change that,” argued Isabella.

“We can renounce their Belgian citizenship for them,” suggested Harry.

“We will do no such thing! Dual citizenship is nothing wrong plenty of people have it. Do people not realize that I am still a foreigner? I am a Swiss and Belgian citizen in London with no British citizenship yet.”

“They recognize that too ma’am. It would be best to renounce your foreign citizenship and please the people.”

“Please the people? Do you think I would bend to the will of people I care nothing for? Someone bring me Charlotte!”

Less than a minute later, a gasping Princess Charlotte came into the room, “What is it, Belle?”

“Do you think I should renounce my foreign citizenship and that of my sons?” asked Isabella.

“Goodness no Belle! Your whole persona is that fact that you are a foreign Archduchess of Austria marrying into this hun family.”

“Charlotte! We will not use that word. You seem to forget that my family were Kings of Germany centuries ago. Other than that, I agree with her. I will not renounce any citizenship, we shall simply put it in a better light.”

“How do you expect us to do that ma’am?”

“A foreign tour of course. I speak Spanish, French, German fluently and speak Dutch, Luxembourgish, Russian, and Italian with a strong accent. Going to Belgium, Luxembourg, or Switzerland would be useless since I am on speaking terms with their Prime Ministers and with Liechtenstein ambassadors. The Mediterranean would be a good stop but some might see that as more of a vacation than a royal tour. I am a great tool but others would rather me rust away so I don’t outshine others.”

The Luxembourg Grand Ducal Court released a photo from Jean, Grand Duke of Luxembourg’s birthday celebrations. The number of titles extended far more than people realized. It was that moment that Isabella had finally been seen properly in the public eyes. The “Diplomatic Duchess” was far more valuable than many people originally thought. Not only could she speak no less than four languages fluently with several more languages under the belt, but the woman was highly educated in the game of politics. Jeremy Corbyn and Theresa May saw that once she was pictured with the Prime Minister of Liechtenstein, Prince Minister of Belgium, and some ministers of the Luxembourg government during the announcement of Princess Maria Annunciata of Liechtenstein and Archduke Johann of Austria, Prince of Habsburg-Lorraine.

The fight for Isabella became a full-fledged fight between the Conservative and Labour Party. While royals were meant to stay out of politics, many saw Isabella as more of an overseas chess piece. She could not get involved with British politics, but other countries in which she visited or previously lived in did not count. After all, Isabella still retained Belgian and Swiss citizenship and still working on gaining her British citizenship almost two years after her marriage.

All of January, minor politicians found ways to get Isabella on her side. When Belgian noble Count Philippe de Lannoy died on January 10 Isabella called her grandmother Yolande to see how she was doing. Yolande and Philippe had been first cousins as the grandchildren of Ernst, 10th Prince of Ligne. Yolande and Philippe’s cousin Antoine, 13th Prince of Ligne had married Princess Alix of Luxembourg, a great-aunt of Guillaume, Hereditary Grand Duke of Luxembourg. A son of Antoine and Alix married a Countess de Lannoy, second cousin of Count Philippe. The royal and aristocratic marriages in the Belgian and Luxembourg courts was the most prominent. As a result, the funeral was a large occasion.

Queen Mathilde of the Belgians, Grand Duke Henri, Guillaume, Stephanie, Princess Alexandra, Prince Louis, Prince Guillaume, Princess Sibilla, Princess Maria Annunciata of Liechtenstein, Archduke Johann of Austria, Countess Anna von und zu Acro-Zinneberg, Countess Olympia von und zu Acro-Zinneberg, the Lannoy family, and Belgian politicians were in attendance. Count Philippe’s funeral had drawn in a small number of Belgian politicians which interested others but meant little to nothing to Isabella.

By the end of January Isabella traveled once again to Switzerland for the United Nations. There was a meeting with Crown Princess Mary and Executive Director for UN Women and UN Under-Secretary-General Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka. There were other royals too like Queen Maxima, Queen Mathilde, and Prince William but all eyes were on Isabella. What she was wearing, what she was doing, and the news of a new royal baby was all over the headlines.  

February 2019

While Harry and Isabella were playing with their sons one afternoon, Princess Charlotte of Murat whispered in her ear of the death of Orleans pretender Henry, Count of Paris and the failing health of her great-aunt Alix, Dowager Princess of Ligne. While The Count of Paris was distantly related to her by blood and by marriage, the possible death of her aunt Alix was a devastating blow. Besides Jean, former Grand Duke of Luxembourg he only had two siblings remaining and once they were gone it would be the end to a dynastic generation.  

“What would you like for us to do?” asked Charlotte.

“I’ll go to the funeral of the count. Do you think my sister Christine would go?” asked Isabella.

“Rodolphe’s aunt is a Princess of Orleans, of course, they would go.”

“Christine why didn’t you tell me about your mother’s health?” asked Isabella to Christine.

“She did not want others to know,” replied Christine who mother was Alix, Dowager Princess of Ligne nee Princess of Luxembourg, Princess of Nassau, and Princess of Bourbon-Parma.

“It’s her health. We are family,” argued Isabella.

“She didn’t want others to worry. She thinks she’s too old and already seen the birth of a great-grandchild so there isn’t much more for her in that context.”

“Oh, I wish she didn’t think that way.”

“The woman is 93 Belle. She lived in a time of war and peace. She is one of the few of her generation I’m sure watching others die before her has left a mark,” replied Christine.

“I fear this is only the beginning. We will all face death in the family,” warned Charlotte.

#PHFF #prince harry fanfiction #fanfiction #prince harry fanfic #royal fanfiction #royal fanfic

[jacksonroseroth]

In The Eyes Of The King Chapter 1

Warnings: Fluff

Words: 1,391

Previously on, Is Thicker Than The Water Of The Womb

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was two years since Tora left and true to his word, Ivar had not loved another woman since. In her absence and with Aslaug’s death by Lagertha, Ivar crowned himself king and the true heir to Ragnar Lothbrok. While Lagertha drove the brothers out of Kattegat, save Bjorn, they set up camp in King Harald’s kingdom of Rogaland to raise an army bigger and stronger than Lagertha’s to take Kattegat back.

~

“Cheat! You’re nothing but a cheat!!” Ubbe cried as Ivar chuckled to himself as he took Ubbe’s pieces from the board.

“Ah. No cheat, brother. Simply smarter than you.” Ivar teased. The tent flap opened behind him and a soldier walked in.

“My King. There is someone to see you.” He said. Ivar waved him away.

“Not now. I’m busy.” Ivar said.

“But, sire…” Ivar slammed his fist on the table and repeated, “I said I’m busy!”

“Too busy for me, my King?” Ubbe’s head shot up and Ivar stilled at the voice. Slowly, Ivar looked up, seeing the smile spread across Ubbe’s face. Ivar turned, stunned to see Tora standing in his tent. He stood, quickly.

“Tora. Is-Is this...Are you…?” He stammered. He hurried to her, wanting to wrap his arms around her and never let go. But Tora stopped him just short, only allowing him to cup a hand on her cheek and beam down at her. He laughed, softly and said, “If this is a dream, it is one I never want to wake from.”

Tora giggled and shook her head. “No dream.” She said, reaching up and touching his cheek. “I am here with you.”

Ivar’s smile couldn’t be contained as he ducked his head down to kiss her. Tora turned her head and placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Ivar...I must speak with you…” She glanced around the tent. “In private?”

Immediately, Ivar shooed everyone away.

“Go!” He cried. “Go. Go, leave us. Now.”

Everyone mumbled as they left the tent, Ubbe stopping by Tora and touching her shoulder gently. Ivar moved around her to make sure everyone was out as Tora went to his chair and ran a hand over the wood.

“No one is to disturb us for any reason,” Ivar said sternly to the man at the entrance. He tied the flaps shut and turned to Tora, beaming. He went to her again, desperate to kiss her and hold her against him, but still, she stopped him.

“Ivar, we need to talk.” She said. Ivar nodded and chuckled, sliding a hand into her hair.

“Yes, yes. Anything. But please, my love...One kiss.” He breathed softly, nuzzling against her cheek and into her hair. “Just one, Tora. I’ve missed you for so long, I cannot bear another moment.”

“It is important business,” Tora said, unable to help the soft chuckle in her voice as Ivar’s nose slid over her skin and to her own. Ivar chuckled.

“We can talk all you want, my love. Please...Just...One...Kiss…” Their faces teased each other, their lips slowly inching closer until Tora finally gave in with a giggle and let Ivar’s lips slide across hers, sealing a deep, slow kiss. Tora’s fingers curled around his shirt as Ivar held her close, sinking every single second into that kiss. When the kiss broke, Ivar tried for another but Tora pulled back, slightly, with a giggle. His eyes opened and looked down at her as she pressed a finger to his lips.

“You said one, my love.” She said softly. A soft, playful growl formed in the back of his throat as he chuckled while Tora slipped out of his arms and rounded the table to sit.

“How, uh, how was your trip?” He asked, taking a seat as well. Tora nodded and smiled.

“Good.” She said.

“You made it to your village?” He asked, picking up his cup and sipping from it. He was so overjoyed to see her, he didn’t notice how her smile faltered.

“I did.” She said, her voice dropping to a more somber tone.

“And were you able to find Rolf’s necklace? The one he gave you?” Ivar asked with an amused chuckle. While Tora was touched he remembered that story after two years, it brought her no comfort.

“Yes, I did.” Ivar chuckled and nodded, turning to grab the pitcher of ale next to him. “Along with my mother.”

Ivar froze, his hand halfway to the pitcher, and looked at her. His smile quickly faded as he said, “Your mother…She is alive.”

Tora nodded. Ivar sighed and a small smile came over him as he reached over to take Tora’s hand.

“That’s wonderful news, Tora. I’m happy for you.” He said.

“She’s just as I remember her, the day I was taken,” Tora said, her lips touched with a small smile.

“Is she here?” Ivar asked, glancing behind him. “Did you bring her? I should like to meet her.”

“She didn’t come with me,” Tora said. When Ivar gave her a puzzled look, she continued, “She said she would never sail again...Not after what happened to my father.”

Ivar blinked. “Keld made it over? She must have been so happy.” Ivar said with a smile. Tora shook her head.

“My father is dead,” Tora said. Ivar blinked again.

“Keld died at sea?”

“ Not ...Keld…” Tora said, raising her voice a little louder and closing her eyes briefly. She looked at Ivar who was now utterly lost. Tora took a breath and said, “Keld is not my father. He never was. My true father and brother died at sea when they first left on their journey back to Norway...A month before the raid.”

Ivar rubbed his hand over his chin as he sighed. “How-How can this be? Keld knew so much.”

“My mother said Keld and his son wanted to hurt Ragnar.” Tora started, standing and pacing, briefly. “Something about revenge for the settlement of Wessex. Keld came to Kattegat in disguise to see which of his sons he would kill as revenge.”

“We avenged the settlement long ago!” Ivar shouted. Tora nodded.

“I know, but Keld wasn’t satisfied. When he saw me, he knew I was the one that would hurt Ragnar and his family most.”

“Then how did he find out so much, hmm?” Ivar asked. “ You didn't even know your mother was alive.”

“When I got to my village, she was shocked to see me alive. She had assumed Keld had me killed already.” Tora said. “She told me that he tracked me down, where I came from, who I was. He tracked down the village to find anyone who knew me. My mother said when she went to him in tears of joy as he asked about me, Keld threatened her in order to get information that would convince me that he was my father.”

“He assumed you would leave with him...Then he would kill you.” Ivar said with a sigh. Tora nodded. Ivar shook his head and said, “But Ragnar was dead by the time they reached Kattegat!”

“He must have realized how much more I meant to you and the others when you protected me,” Tora said.

“And you decided to stay, still.”

“That is why I believe he killed Rolf and framed you. He might have thought I would hate you and leave with him.” Ivar’s rage melted as he gave a small smile.

“You believe me?” He asked. Tora couldn’t hold herself back anymore. With a small smile, she went to him, sliding onto his lap. Ivar’s chest filled with excitement as he slid his arms around her waist, this being the first time she’d done this.

Tora smiled and slid her fingers over his cheek. “I never doubted you, Ivar. But with the information I had then, I couldn’t stay in Kattegat. Things would have gotten worse. I had to leave.” She said, softly. Ivar nodded and kissed her shoulder.

“It broke my heart, seeing you leave,” Ivar said, softly as he rested his chin on her shoulder. Tora slid her arms around his neck to cradle his head on her chest.

“I didn't do it to hurt you, Ivar.” She whispered to him.

“I know.” He buried his face in her neck and held her tight. “I’m just happy you are back.”

~

Next Chapter

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want to be tagged in future fics/chapters, let me know! I’ll add you to the list!

@tephi101 @shieldmaiden25 @titty-teetee @captstefanbrandt @ivarslittlebadgirl@hail-kattegat @badwolf-in-the-impala @tgrrose @irishhiggins @artanakin  @readsalot73 @thisisparadisemylove @capitanostella @noaor @somethingdawn @lol-haha-joke @the-witch-from-the-forest @meganjudee @tinypuppysoul  @lovelydreamer-2000

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[golden-pickaxe]

Odal - Part 2

Fandom: Vikings

Paring: Ivar x Reader

Type: Viking Times

Word Count: 2313

Warnings: none

[All Parts Here]

A/N: Part 2 is here already! Idk how much I am able to write in the next 2 weeks, as I am working at a very big and important science assembly until the 31st, but I will try and make time ^^

Also, I made a playlist, and I think it fits amazingly to this story, so here!

Summary: When you were just a child, you had been adopted by two shieldmaidens, as one of six sisters. Now, all grown up, the lot of you join king Harald to avenge the death of Ragnar in England. A journey, that is going to change the life you’ve known before.

Tags: @lightningwitcher (for some reason the tagging does not work?)

A few days later you, Yeva, Gudrun, Hrafna, Hallgrim and Asta said goodbye to your mothers, hugging them tightly and promising to come back with gold and victory. They watched you from the door of your farmhouse, arm in arm, as you left, making your way towards the town of Vestfold.

 All of you were dressed in your armours, wide Rus trousers and tunics, your belongings on your back and a sword and an axe on your hips. Everyone of you carried also a big, yellow shield of your kingdom, the symbol of the aegishelm painted on them.

 You felt proud and quite excited, but also anxious and nervous. You did not know what would expect you in England. Asta had of course told you all about it, but she had only raided smaller villages at the coast, not battled with the king’s armies like your were intending on doing.

You also did not know what to expect in Kattegat, for that matter, the large kingdom where the great army was to gather, before departing over the sea.

You wondered if Hrafna was nervous about going back there, if that was where she came from, but did not dare to ask. She always got very defensive and even angry when asked about anything that had happened before she lived with your mothers.

 It was half a day of marching, before the six of you reached the town, arriving there around noon, the strong smell of fish hitting your noses from miles away already.

 “As always, you smell it before you see it!” Yeva had joked.

 The city itself was, even before you had passed the gates, full of life. Between all the usual merchants, fishermen and traders you were used to seeing, there was a great amount of warriors, more than you were able to count. They had, as it seemed, gathered from all over Norway, to join king Harald, and thus the sons of Ragnar, for the journey to England.

 Walking through the muddy streets, you met old friends, saw familiar faces, warriors with whom you had fought side by side in battles gone by, and with whom you had celebrated your victories.

You even spotted Arvid in the mass of people, a young man around your age, which whom you had had a short relationship in the previous summer. It had not ended badly, both of you simply agreeing that it just wasn’t what either of you were looking for, but it was still a bit awkward to see him now, and you averted your gaze as your eyes met.

 “That was Arvid, wasn’t it?” Asta, who had noticed your embarrassment, teased you, putting one of her strong arms around your shoulders. You blushed, ducking your head slightly, causing your oldest sister to laugh. “Oh, don’t be ashamed, little one! If I would blush every time I saw one of my past lovers, I would constantly be red in the face!”

 You could not hold back a laugh at her words, letting her pull you further through the streets of Vestfold, walking by busy smiths, eager merchants and a few drunken warriors, who laughed while telling each other old stories, in a great variety of accents.

 You just loved being in the city. You loved all the life, watching the people go about their day, everyone of them interesting in their own way. It was so different from your life on the farm, much more hectic and alive. Back home you rarely saw a face that was not part of your family, but here you could see so many new people, you had never seen before.

 Finally, you reached the shore, a long, white whale skeleton framing the path down to the docks. Your breath hitched in your throat as you saw the mass of ships, this giant fleet waiting there, slaves and workers loading crates of food and other equipment on the vessels. Your heart pounded with excitement, just thinking about being part of this massive army.

 “Asta! It is good to see you!” you heard a voice behind you, causing all six of yu to turn around, where you spotted a familiar face.

 Hrafnkell, one of the king’s men, stood before you, a smile on his friendly face, blond hair covering half of it, while the other side was shaved. You knew that it covered a huge scar, disfiguring his face, after a nasty berserker had almost killed him with his war hammer.

 “You’re still alive, old man? I’m impressed!” Asta laughed, before hugging him tightly. He simply rolled his eyes at her, murmuring ‘be careful who you call old, woman!’ into her ear, before he greeted the rest of your band of shieldmaidens. You had often fought alongside of this man, and you were sure all of you would trust him with your life.

 “It is good to see you joining us! But pray tell, where are your mothers?” he then asked, as he didn’t spot them in the vicinity.

 “They are not coming with us this time, my friend.” Gudrun shrugged. Hrafnkell just nodded, not asking any further.

 “Nevertheless, I am happy that you six will! Mighty shieldmaidens like you will make it a simple task to bend England’s knees!” he smiled at all of you. “We still have room on our ship, if you want to travel with us.” He then added.

 “Oh, I had hoped you’d say that.” Asta nodded. “Lead the way.”

 You followed Hrafnkell further along the docks, walking over ships via planks, connecting them to each other, until you had reached his ship, where you had found some of his men, who watched over it. You dropped your equipment and belongings, only keeping what was most necessary, before you made your way towards the bustling life of town again. The man guided you to some sheltered tables near the shore, where the rest of his band of warriors and shieldmaidens sat, eating and drinking their midday meal.

 You knew most of them too, and they all greeted you and your sisters as you sat down, one woman passing you a cup of weak ale, and a plate with bread, cottage cheese and a small apple. There was even some fish there, which should not surprise you, as this was mainly a fishing town. You thanked her, starting to eat.

 Moments like this, were moments you were very fond of. About to leave for battle, sitting together with the other warriors you would soon fight with side by side, sharing food, drink and stories with each other. This was life, this was real, and you sure as Hel enjoyed every second of it.

 In the distance you could hear someone playing the lyre, and someone joining in with a horn-pipe, playing a song you did not know, for everyone in the vicinity to enjoy. You could not stop the smile spreading on your face, as you got a bit lost in the moment, until Asta’s voice pulled you back into reality.

 “Say, friend, when are we to depart?” she asked Hrafnkell, who was sitting opposite of her at the long table. You looked over to them, also curious how long you would stay, and when you would leave for Kattegat.

 “King Harald has told us, when the moon is full. So, in three days time.” The man explained. Now that was soon.

 “Well, then I am very glad that we got the message on time, a bit later and we would have missed everything!” you joked, taking a sip from your ale.

 “Say that to your mothers, they keep you six sheltered like princesses on that little farm of yours!” Hrafnkell laughed, but stopped quickly, as Asta gave him a playful slap on the back of his head. It was playful, yes, but due to her strength it had still quite the force behind it.

 “Says the man who does not even teach his daughters how to wield a sword properly.” She raised her eyebrows at the man, who just frowned, hiding behind his horn-cup.

 “It’s Gunhild, who does not want them to learn.” He took a big gulp of ale, speaking of his wife, before wiping his face. “And I stopped arguing about it with her about it, after the third blue eye she gave me.”

 You raised your eyebrows at that piece of information, inhaling through your teeth, but did not say anything else. Oh yes, you had met Gunhold, who was not a pleasant woman. You guessed that the only reason Hrafnkell did not divorce her was, that he was simply too scared of her, and what she would do.

There was no love left in their relationship, which was very obvious due to the fact that the man went fighting and raiding every change he got.

 You turned to Yeva and Hrafna, who sat to your other side, not really keen to partake in the conversation about the man’s horrible wife, when you saw the blond one rolling her eyes, while the red head, biting her lower lip, stared towards the waterfront.

 You raised one of your eyebrows in question, but Yeva just jerked her head into the direction her sister was staring at.

Your eyes followed her movement, where you spotted the king, together with his brother, talking to some men and inspecting their ship.

 “He is just gorgeous, isn’t he?” Hrafna sighed, resting her head on her hand. “Those tattoos.. this murderous look in his eyes.. I just want to eat him alive.”

 “By the gods, calm down, sister. No one is going to eat anyone here.” Yeva rolled her eyes yet again, sending you a helpless look.

 You could not hold back a loud laugh.

Oh yes, Hrafna’s obsession with the king’s brother Halfdan. For years she had talked about this man, told stories of his adventured she had heard, and spoke about taking him right on the battle field, still covered in blood, a sight you truly never wished to see. You did not really understand it, though, as she had never actually talked to him.

 “One day he will be mine.” The ginger smiled, absently minded taking a sip from her weak ale.

 “How will he be yours, if he does not even know you exist?” Yeva raised quite a valid point there, which caused the other one to turn to her sharply, her pale eyes glaring the younger one down.

 “Then I will make him know me, won’t I?” she hissed, tilting her head slightly, both of her eyebrows going up for a second, provocatively. But Yeva, just sighed, knowing how to deal with the moods of the red head by now.

 “Pizdec, sestra. Do what you want.” The blond one smiled innocently, as if she had not just very foul language of her mother tongue, turning her full body towards you.

 “Oh, I will. Just watch.” With that Hrafna stood up, walking down and towards the docks.

 You watched her for a moment, one eyebrow raised while you chewed on your bread, as she made her way towards the king and his brother. You then turned your attention back to Yeva.

“You should really stop making her mad.” You said, swallowing the bread, before picking up a piece of fish.

 “I know, she just makes it hard not to.” She laughed. “It is simply too easy.”

 “Which is exactly why you should stop teasing her, little one.” Gurdun, who had apparently followed the whole scene from her spot a few seats down, dropped onto the bench between you, her long golden hair as so often un-braided, and falling over her back.

Good Gudrun, always defending the other one.

 “At least until we’re somewhere where she can let out all her frustration on Christians.” The woman then added with a wink, taking a sip to her cup. She seemed as if she wanted to say something else, turning her eyes to where the red head had gone, but only a short “Oh” left her mouth,

 You followed her eyes, to your surprise seeing the ginger in conversation with Harald and Halfdan.

“Maybe it was a good thing, that you made her mad after all.” Was everything you could say.

 And this was how the lot of you came about to meet the king.

 “It would be a lie, if I would say that I do not know of all your exploits. A fine band of warriors, your mother had brought up.” Harald smiled, his hands crossed in front of him, while his eyes mustered all of you intently.

 It was later this afternoon, after Hrafna had urged you to come with her, as the powerful man now standing in front of you had wanted to see you. She was standing next to you now, looking very proud of herself, although her pale eyes were glued on the king’s brother.

 “Thank you, my king. Hearing these words from you honours our family.” Asta nodded respectfully, hands resting on the pommel of her sword. She indeed looked honoured, and you guessed that this recognition of not only the six of you, but also her mother, meant a lot to her.

 You were a bit too nervous to speak, not knowing how Asta managed to seem so calm, as standing here in front of the king was very intimidating.

 “I am glad that you all will join us in this fight, now I know that the gods are truly on our side.” Fairhair grinned, looking all of you over for one last time, before he made his goodbyes, turning from you to walk up and away from the docks, back to his hall.

Halfdan and your sister shared one last long, very intense look, before he followed his brother too.

 Somewhere in your guts, you felt that this meeting, was just the beginning of something incredible.

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