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sapphic-woes · 2 years

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Eivor x Fem!Reader - Merciful

A/N: So...first fic ever doing x reader, bear with me as I get the hang of this. In this, Eivor is injured and comes across a nun who helps her out. Minors DNI.

Word count: 4k. AO3 link

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Mercy. It was a virtue that was usually praised. However, when it came to you many said it would be your downfall.

“You’re too nice, too caring, too understanding. That's why everyone always uses you.” You knew that. It was easy to tell when a kind smile masked ill intentions, and yet you could never bring yourself not to lend a helping hand. For that was the duty of a nun, wasn’t it?

“Ugh…lady…” As you dropped the bucket of water you’d fetched from the river, you soon realized there were some good deeds even you found difficult to do.

It was a dane, one bloody and bruised, dragging himself…herself, up out of the river. It was a struggle not to scream, she looked like the devil himself with her war paint running down her face and blue eyes focused on your startled form. Even in her plight, she still managed to notice your instinctive step back, and her glare in response–as if daring you to call the guards–making it feel like it would be pointless to try.

“Please…” Only the second time she spoke did you fully register her voice–both its peculiar ruggedness and the fact that she spoke English–sending a shiver down your spine. Clearly, she was asking for help. But to help a dane?

You weren’t a fool. You lived in an abbey, and heathens loved to attack them. It was a risk you gladly took to serve the Lord, and you had been prepared to face death by the hands of a dane since the moment you became a nun. Now you were facing a dane alright, yet somehow the Lord was testing you with her imminent death rather than your own.

Do I let her live, or leave her to die? The choices led to two grim realities. Her death within the hour, or the abbey’s potential massacre within a few weeks' time.

You prayed to the Lord that the if of the latter would never become a reality.

She was heavy, stinking of dirt and blood. By the time you decided to save her, she had already passed out, leaving you to somehow drag her body to a suitable area. Luckily, being the pushover of the abbey had some perks. In your desperation to find solitude, you’d stumbled across a cave not far from the river and used it to rest from time to time.

Once there, you huffed, laying her down on the dirt floor as gently as your sore arms could. Then you were off to fetch a new bucket of water and medical aid, explaining poorly to the reverend that you were simply nursing an injured baby calf stuck in the woods. He thought it was useless work–but work no one other than you would do–so he let you go, and with haste, you returned to the dane.

Once you entered the cave again, you set to work. The bleeding had to stop and to stop the bleeding the wound needed to be located. Oh, you thought with a nervous gulp, her top will have to be removed...

Heat crept over your cheeks, but quickly you shook your head. This may be a dane, but she was a woman nonetheless. A woman exactly like you. There was nothing to be shy about, and it was confusing that you even were. With a deep breath you took the knife you brought, murmuring apologies to the unconscious heathen before cutting through her thick clothing.

Immediately, you realized she was certainly a woman…but her body was definitely not like yours.

If there was one word to describe it, it was hardened. Trained. Muscles rippled as she breathed, and tiny scars decorated her waist and chest. There was ink too, terrifyingly beautiful designs that made your heart hammer and nervously breathe out. You’d heard from rumors that the tattoos meant horrible things, like tallies of how many saxons they’d killed. What if I become one too? Again, panic seized your heart, and you found yourself trembling as you studied the wound she’d suffered.

Luckily, it was something treatable. With great care not to wake her (though you weren’t sure if it was out of fear or genuine concern) you patched her up, checking to see if there was anything else. There was a slash at her right leg, and you patched that one up as well, finally moving to clean the dirt from the rest of her body. Gently, you dragged a cloth across her chiseled face, marveling at her sharp jaw and long, pretty lashes. Perhaps she had looked intimidating before, but fast asleep she was clearly a thing of beauty.

You liked her straight nose and her eyebrows that seemed to grimace even in her sleep. You wondered what she’d look like when she was wide awake and not glowering at you. You wondered if her voice really was that low–or if her long journey only to end up passing out in the river was the cause. You were curious, and before you knew it, you were hovering less than an inch above her face.

Lord above. You held back a squeak, scrambling back. That was rude! Impolite and…odd of you. Very odd. For a moment you tried to register why you’d done such a thing, but you came up with no answer. All you knew for certain was that you felt warm all over, tingly as you watched the woman’s chest rise and fall. Somehow, just watching her breath was mesmerizing. Was it the devil in her making you so curious? You didn’t know–but you did know that the reverend would be expecting you back soon.

In more of a frenzy than you’d like to admit, you gathered your things and left, cheeks aflame as you rushed to escape whatever trap satan intended to use the dane with.

_______

It took a week for her to wake again.

In those days, the routine was fairly simple. Every day you went out to fetch water you’d take the time for a detour. There you’d clean her wounds and redress her bandages, leave fresh water and stolen borrowed leftovers just in case she’d wake. For the past week, the food rotted, and dust settled over the water. Today was no different, at least, when you first entered the cave it wasn’t.

She was lying as she always did, and you moved quickly. You only had so much time before the reverend, or anyone else for that matter grew suspicious. Despite everyone needing you, they did little to respect you as a person, becoming more of a lapdog than anything. You set down the bucket of water with a huff, arching your back to crack it with a groan. Who knew being a nun would require so much labor?

“It’s already been a week…maybe it’s exhaustion?” You murmured as you walked up to the sleeping dane, hovering a hand over her face. She was breathing, and her breaths were stronger than when she was usually asleep, though still steadily rhythmic. That was a good sign, right? You bit your bottom lip with worry, turning away.

To transport her bandages and other medical supplies, you tied them with rope in pouches to the side of your thighs, keeping them hidden under your long robe. At first, you felt ridiculous walking with them like that, but now it was like second nature. With little thought you hiked up your dress, untying the pouches carefully. That was when you glanced in front of you at the food you’d left before. A useless endeavor, but still you couldn’t help but check with hope…

…and see that it was all completely eaten.

You froze. One of the pouches you’d tried to quietly remove slipped from your hand. Glass jars full of healing salve shattered from within. You didn’t care.

No–you were more concerned with the eyes drilling into the back of your neck, trailing down the base of your spine…and finally, resting on your legs exposed to the chilly autumn air. You didn’t know whether to run or scream. You didn’t know if either choice mattered.

“Lady.” Her gruff voice made you jump, and suddenly you could move again. You spun on your heel, you scrambled back–two horrid decisions to make at once. Your balance abandoned you, and suddenly coarse skin gripped your hand, yanking you forward. You stumbled, letting out a startled cry as you fell onto your hands rather than your back.

You’d squeezed your eyes shut to brace for impact, but now as you tentatively fluttered them open, you didn’t recognize the bandages inches from your face. That is until they rocked up and down. An amused, albeit pained, voice rumbled from the depths of it.

“Lady, might you remove yourself from me?” Am I…staring at her chest? You moved faster than you ever had before, clambering off of the dane and then shuffling several feet back. She watched the entire display with a raised eyebrow, and her calmness in juxtaposition to your alarm only made you feel more embarrassed. You opened your mouth to speak, but the knot in your throat wouldn’t allow for more than another frightened noise. At that the heathen paused, shifting her gaze to think before focusing her gaze back on you.

“I…won’t hurt you. You saved my life, lady. It would have been easy to leave me there, or send out guards to end my suffering. Yet,” the dane waved her hand to the empty food and water, “you did all this instead. It would be foolish to repay my savior with violence, wouldn’t you think?” She was right, it would be foolish. However, you had been taught that danes were exactly that; tricked by the devil into wanting nothing but bloodshed. It would be foolish of you to immediately believe her words.

“T-thank you.” You tried to act as if you believed it, though from her frown she guessed you didn’t at all. You stayed frozen as she sighed, scratching the back of her head.

“I’m not saying that to be thanked. I’m just…telling you. Despite how you view me, you have helped me. For that I am grateful.” With that she attempted to rise, hissing out in pain. You gasped, stiffening with worry. She had just woken up or at least had in the last couple of hours. She had no business moving yet! Before you knew it you were on your feet, rushing over to stop her.

“Wait! Please don’t move, your wounds are still healing and you’ve just woken up. You must rest.” Regardless of how badly you trembled, you still spoke as firmly as you could. “You can’t do any harsh manual labor–like traveling to God knows where–until it’s safe!” That surprised the dane, eyebrows high on her face and mouth slightly agape. Slowly, her lips curved into a smirk, and she nodded, lying back down.

“You fear me, yet you give me orders?” Your cheeks reddened, and her sly smile widened. “Alright then, little lady…for a few days, I’ll rest my body for you. Is that satisfying?” For you rang like a sweet mantra in your head, and at your awkward nod the dane chuckled. It was a pleasant sound, making you wring your hands together and swallow nervously. You would have said more, but suddenly you heard your name being harshly called out, making the both of you jump.

“I–I must go now. No one else…knows. I didn’t think they’d take kindly to the idea of treating you.” That made the heathen's eyes darken with understanding, and she nodded.

“Go, the last thing I want is you to be punished for helping me.” Her voice had hardened just as it did the day you both met, though this time it didn’t scare you as much as before. It left you with a tight chest, and you didn’t trust your own voice to speak again properly. Quickly, you nodded, rushing out of the cave with warm skin and an ever growing heartbeat.

_______

Her name was Eivor, with some knowing her as Eivor the Wolf-kissed, you hoped it explained where the gaze came from.

You had felt it the day she’d woken up, and you had dismissed it as a look a warrior would give to their enemy. Calculating and intense, dragging down your body before rising back up to your eyes–you assumed as a saxon, she’d immediately seen you as her enemy and had reacted as such.

Now, you had no explanation for the heat in her stares, and it was starting to plague you.

Her promise of only days turned into another week with your insistent begging, and in that time period it became clear that walking into the cave was like walking into a wolf’s den. Each day that her wounds healed she grew stronger and more…overwhelming. In her teasing voice by your ear as you dressed her wounds, and in how when she sat with you, it was as if she was caging you in.

She spoke to you like a friend. An extremely caring one. She hated to see you exhausted after running around the abbey, angry they’d treat you more like a servant than an equal. Her hands would hold you close and urge you to rest in the safe embrace of her arms. It was nice, and you found yourself longing to go to the cave every day. However, you didn’t understand her actions. At first, you summed them up to culture, but her gaze told you otherwise.

There was something in those sapphire eyes, something enticingly dangerous, and it gleamed whenever your cheeks burned bright. It darkened when you bit your bottom lip with shyness, flickering over your heaving chest when her actions became too much for you to bear. Now, the tension in the air had shifted from one of fear to…curiosity. Need. But for what, you feared, would be your undoing.

“Little angel,” The raspy voice in your ear brought you out of your thoughts, “are you done?” You jumped, looking up to find Eivor’s face hovering above your own. It took everything in you not to marvel at it. She had a rough kind of beauty that made your insides squirm, and abruptly you looked down again.

“Yes! Right–apologies. I was lost in thought…” You finished fixing her bandages, fingers lingering over her toned abs. How are they so defined in the first place–large hands wrapped around your own, and with surprise you looked back up into Eivor’s concerned eyes.

“You’ve been odd lately. Listless. Is something bothering you?” You smiled softly. Despite her stern face, you’d soon learned that Eivor was incredibly soft. She was a warm soul, and from the stories she’d shared with you, someone who greatly cared about her family and friends. You shook your head.

“There’s nothing. Well, I don’t believe there is. I’m simply…confused, Eivor. May I ask,” you sucked in a fractured breath, unsure if you should continue. A calloused hand cupped your cheek, and unconsciously you shut your eyes to lean into the touch.

“What is it, love?” Again, she called you in a way that made your stomach burn and your heart swell. With a hushed whisper, you spoke your mind.

“Why do you…act this way with me? I do not understand. Is it custom for da–norse–to treat other women like…like…” You didn’t know how to say it, but Eivor didn’t need you to, humming softly.

“Like a husband would?” You breathed out in relief.

“Yes! Are norsewomen more intimate with one another than sax–” That made Eivor snort, sharply reigning in her laughter so only the corners of her lips twitched. However, at your puzzled stare she realized that hadn’t been some kind of joke, and her laughter completely left her. She opened her mouth, then closed it, and then eventually decided such innocence could only be met with a soft, but equal amount of bluntness.

“Little angel…I act this way because I have affection towards you. You are kind, albeit self-sacrificing.” What? You couldn’t believe the words she muttered, but her eyes held yours with such conviction that you knew it was true. You wanted to look away–her gaze was becoming more predacious with every second your cheeks burned brighter–yet you couldn’t, captivated as Eivor continued. “You shine like the sun, and I cannot help but think you are a gift from the gods…and in the future, if you would allow me, I would like to lie with you.”

She would…what? That had been the source of her looks this entire time. It wasn’t as someone assessing an enemy, nor pure curiosity. It was…lust. She wanted you, in ways you were sure you couldn’t imagine, and when you expected the feeling of disgust to wash over you, something worse happened.

All at once, it came barrelling over you. A tantalizing heat and debilitating fluster, aching across your skin as you struggled to say something, anything to discourage her words. The hand at your cheek was cruel. It burned like molten iron, doing nothing to help you think straight. Eivor wanted to lie with you, as a man would with a woman. To hold you in her arms, commit an act you had vowed under the eyes of God to abstain from–and while that should have made you wretch away from the woman, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Rather, you felt your core burn. Shame bubbled up inside of you, but so did the desire. From the beginning, you had wanted something from this woman. Before, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Now the answer was clear as day, burning over your heart.

“If I were to,” you had to pause, words too much to ask all at once, “to lie with you, Eivor. What…” you took the chance to glance up at her. Her gaze was like a crackle of lightning. It took your breath away and made you twitch with wanting. You found it took an effort to finish your question.

“What…would you do?” That was a mistake. There was hope in your voice you accidentally let slip through, and Eivor caught onto it. Those shapely lips twisted.

Once again, her sharp eyes dragged over you..but it was shameless this time. Devoid of the restraint and caution she’d had before. Now you shivered, because it was obvious now, painstakingly so, that from the moment Eivor met you, she’d wanted nothing more than to defile you.

_______

You were a mess, a whimpering, trembling mess, and Eivor wasn’t nearly done with you. She pulled away from between your breasts to catch her breath and admire her work. She’d left bite marks all over your chest, thighs, and waist, the indents of her teeth a pretty color across your tender skin. Your teary eyed, gasping face only spurred her on more, and she hummed as she leaned down to steal the heat from your lips, eliciting a moan from you.

Your precious gown, used to avert the eyes of men, was gone. Your veil was thrown away long ago. The autumn air bit at your skin, but regardless of the temperature around you, your body burned nonetheless. You felt one hand brush against your breast, sending a quivering through your spine as she rolled the bud between her fingers. Her other hand went further south, down to your unattended, dripping wetness.

She had been fiendish there before, suckling your thighs and kissing the skin between your legs and your heat, yet never there. No–not until you were gripping the hard muscles of her arms and practically begging, needy for relief. She might be one to tease, but Eivor wasn’t cruel–taking her fingers to grant you the pleasure you craved.

Her fingers brushed over your bud, and then she pressed down. It was gentle, yet firm, falling into a steady rhythm as she rubbed a tiny circle there. You gasped, nails digging into her arms. Soon you were overwhelmed with bliss, weak in the knees as your voice fell into sweet, keening sounds to her ears.

“That’s it,” the blonde said, voice gruff as she watched you whine, “keep letting me hear that beautiful voice angel.” Oh, did you obey that command, voice ringing out as if you’d become a bard just to sing of the pleasure she gave you. She pressed into your bundle of nerves more, never slowing down. You stammered, hands moving to cling to her back in desperation.

“I–I can’t…” Those sharp eyes were hazy now, glossed over as she took in your bruised lips and half-lidded eyes. Her hand circled your bud one last time before the pressure stopped, and immediately you let out a sound of dismay, trying to focus and ask why–but soon, you were given an answer.

“Oh–!” In one fluid motion, two thick fingers were plunged into your dewy folds, burying deep and making your back arch at the sudden fullness. Her fingers curled, and she took her time just as before, offering a steady, brutal rhythm. She wanted to leave you ruined, and it was working, bones turning to mush and overcome with sensual destruction.

Relentless, she pounded her fingers up to the knuckle. She knew what to do to leave you a puddle of fervent desire, skillful even as she grew more lustful herself. Watching you crumble from her digits stretching your heat was intoxicating, and you could see the carnal need in her eyes grow as she continued. Her tongue raked over her canines as she thrust particularly deep. You whimpered, body shaking uncontrollably, and the sight made her want to taste you, now more than ever. Without warning, she swiftly moved.

“E-Eivor!” All you could manage was to say the norse’s name with a fractured, desperate moan, squirming against her firm hands. They gripped your thighs and held them in place as she went down on you, indulging herself with the slick folds before her. She dragged her tongue upward, and you choked–your oversensitivity to her every action making your legs grow weak. She chuckled at your disoriented pleasure, and the vibrations of her voice against your folds were torturous. Eivor knew that, and she didn’t hesitate to use it, not bothering to pull away as she moaned against your heat.

You squirmed, bucking to push her tongue harder into you. She obliged, pressing deeper into your wetness and having her fill of your taste. Her nose routinely brushed against your bud, and it drove you wild, drowning in the sensations clawing at your core.

“I-I need, Eivor please–” how did a single question come to this? Now you were shamelessly begging the norse before you to have her way with you–as if she wasn’t already–lips forming over your bud. Oh God.

Your hands found their way into holding fistfuls of her blonde hair. She was calculated, devastating in her onslaught over your pearl. You were reduced to a bundle of mewls and hopeless clawing, throbbing against her tongue as she brought a mayhem of pleasure over you. It consumed you in a near terrifying way, eyes rolling as she continued to bring you to your peak.

“I can’t, d-don’t stop…!” It was the only warning you could utter before you were mindless, toes curling and hips rocking wildly. You choked back a sob as she continued to suck on your pearl even as you rode out your peak, only letting up when you completely slumped over. She kissed your twitching folds and inner thigh before she rose, gathering you in her arms.

“Little angel,” her chest rumbled at your back, textured hands pulling you into her lap. “Are you alright?” You were more than alright, nodding into the crook of her neck.

“I am. That was…um…” Despite having done all that, in the heat of the afterglow you felt your embarrassment creep back in. Eivor laughed.

“Good?” At your nod, she smiled, fingers brushing against the back of your neck. “I’m glad, I wanted to make sure you were comfortable…but it was hard to control myself once I saw that face.” The way she complimented you with ease made your stomach twist with butterflies once again, and it must have been evident on your face. Softly, a hand held your jaw where she wanted it, and Eivor kissed you slowly and sensually, pulling away just enough to whisper against your lips.

“Come back with me. I have a settlement–Raventhorpe–and I would care for you there. You wouldn’t be pushed around again, and your kindness would be honored, not used.” It was nearly said in a plea, hesitant as if the woman wasn’t sure what your answer would be. But you knew it from the moment she’d begun, heartwarming with joy.

“Yes,” you nodded so quickly it elicited a laugh from Eivor, adoring your enthusiasm, “I would love to, Eivor. If it means being with you…” Your fingers intertwined with hers, and you smiled wide, sharing in Eivor’s own giddy smile back.

“I’d go anywhere.”

#eivor varinsdóttir #female eivor #eivor x reader #f!eivor x reader #female eivor x reader #lady eivor #smut

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pixievi · 2 years

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Being in a Relationship with Eivor

warnings : none, pure fluff, afab reader

She’s very romantic - always bringing you flowers she’s picked, has written many poetry verses about you that she recites to you whenever you’re feeling down, has numerous flyting wins on the topic of spouses under her belt, has gifts for you always from her trips and missions ( anything shiny, clothing, stray animals she’s picked up, books, furs, weapons ; including 3 oddly delicate daggers )

“Where did you get these?”, you asked, cradling the 3 daggers in your arms. Eivor smiled brightly.

“Their names were Cordelia, Goneril and Regan!”, she beamed. “Do you like them?”

“Their names…? Wha-”, you sigh, shaking your head. “They’re beautiful, darling. Thank you”

Very protective. With a capital P. Whether you can take care of yourself or not, she’s always keeping an eye on you. Through her own eyes or Synin’s. You can always trust that she’s ready to defend you with her life at any given moment. To the point where you yourself have to tell her that everything is under control.

She’s also protective in the case of someone else being interested in you. It can go one or two ways, she’d simply up her affections for you whenever they were near - keeping an arm around you or just standing close if she feels she needs her arms free, covering you in kisses, subtly making it clear that you’re hers and she yours etc OR she’s completely hostile. Depends on her mood. And how they act

On the occasion, she’ll take you with her on her more…low stakes missions. Like when she took you to Glowecestrescire, thinking it would be a nice trip together. Which it was. Watching her trick or treat as Mari Lywd all embarrassed and annoyed with both you and Gunnar was hilarious. Until it wasn’t though, however. But in the end, you enjoyed the trip regardless.

When she doesn’t take you with her, she leaves you in charge of Ravensthorpe. Much to your surprise and Dag’s further displeasure - not that he needs to worry for too long ;) Regardless of big D, everyone else respects your leadership. Eivor is always very proud.

She takes you firefly hunting, often making a game out of it

Speaking of games, she is often playful with you. Constant teasing, sarcasm, trying to make you laugh, making competitions out of the most mediocre tasks etc.

Cannot go a day without cuddling you. She’s a huge cuddlebug and on those trips where she’s gone for days at a time, the thought of getting back home to your embrace comforts her.

Tell anyone that she’s often the little spoon and you’re fucked. Literally. She’ll deny it like her life depends on it, scowling at you. You giggling only makes it worse.

She loves to hold you, and loves you holding her. She practically melts into you. She melts at any sort of affection you give her. Holding her hand and arm, squeezing her in a hug, kisses, forehead kisses, hand kisses, cheek kisses, neck kisses, nose kisses, kiss-

Picks you up in hugs, often picks you up a just carries you around.

Braids your hair a lot. You find she enjoys it, especially when she’s stressed or just wants to take her mind off things.

Her favourite place to lay is on your breasts, stomach or lap. Or just anywhere on you really. But those three, she really loves.

Mouse, Dandy Puff and Synin really love you too.

Eivor has often found Mouse slumbering in bed with you, his whole body just flopped onto yours. His face snuggled into your neck while your hands softly gripped his warm fur. The first time Eivor stumbled onto the scene, her heart melted.

Dandy becomes your shadow around Ravensthorpe. Where people see Dandy, they are sure to find you there too. She trails you as you go about your day, especially when you venture into the woods. She gets so excited and zooms around you.

Synin brings you her own gifts. It can range from rocks, sticks, feathers, someone’s wedding ring etc

You keep whatever she brings you. Except for that wedding ring. Which turned out to be Gunnar’s, who thankfully found it funny. Eivor herself was both in shock and amused.

Called you her wife long before she even proposed to you.

Slaps your ass. All the damn time.

Boasts about you to just about anyone at any given moment.

When you told her that you loved her voice, and found it comforting. She was surprised, she found it to be quite rough herself. But it did leave her blushing appreciatively as you kissed her cheek.

She !! Just !! Loves !! You !! So !! Much !!

#eivor x reader #fem!eivor #eivor headcanons #lady eivor #eivor varinsdóttir #eivor varinsdóttir x reader #fem!eivor x reader #relationship headcanons #headcanons #ac valhalla #ac eivor #fluff #eivor fluff #f!eivor x reader

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paleeagleoperatree · 2 years

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Time is Love chapter 8

Tonna xSoma x Eivor x black!fem reader

Time travel au

"So we're going to set up a feast, as an way to make a alliances." Headgr nodded his head "Basically.". You been sitting here for 20 or more minutes while Tonna and Headgr bickered of subject then finally got to the point of this private meeting."We'll also invite Evior and Soma as an apology for your crude behavior." Tonna rolled her eyes and muttered "If I don't get my head chopped off first.". Headgr grabbed a dagger pointing it at the map "Then there's a better reason to why we need to fix our repetition before things get worse. And you..." He pointed the dagger at you "You will have to earn your keep Ms.(Y/N), you can't just continue eating our food without earning. And don't worry you will be paid too for your work.". You perked up at this news " When can I start!?" Tonna smiled a bit at your excitement "Looks like our Raven is a Hard worker and a excited one at that." After a while Tonna assorted that you could work with the livestock and the pantry. All you had to do was to make sure that the animals were taken care of and document the pantry stock, to make sure they had enough food for the winter. That was easy enough. You were sent to the stables and pantry/kitchen to be introduced to your environment and then instructed on what to do. Tonna and Headgr where left behind to work on the party plans.

After awhile Tonna and Headgr started to assign roles to the people and explained what the event was for "It's of the upmost importance that this peace offer feast go's smoothly!" Headgr made sure to make his point evident to everyone in the crowd. "And make sure you're on your best behaviors, and treat our guests well!". Tonna's voice bellowed across the field of people, and Headgr gave a impressed look at the usually humorous deger was capable of not cracking a joke for once. Everyone knew their place and started to work on the party. Later in the day people started to slow down and call it day and turned in for the night. This meant you too, but you didn't really know if you were still welcomed in Tonna's cabin. Just because she let you sleep in her home when you were passed out, doesn't mean she'll let you in now. Tonna spotted your upset face and gave you a hard pay on your back "What's wrong little Raven?" you were shocked at the sudden weight on your back, then turned away a little at the question. "Well I don't know where I'm going to sleep or stay, I can't just continue sleeping at your cabin." she gave you a small amused smile and laughed a bit "Well why not!? I quit enjoy your company and it's doesn't hurt that you are pretty and exotic." you flinched at the word 'exotic' , but other wise was excited at the fact you could stay at her place. "Really!?" Tonna couldn't help but to feel endeared by your glowing expression of excitement "Of course.". She lent out hand and guided you to her cabin.

Authors Note: I'm still pretty unsure about continuing pass the prewritten chapters, I may just continue because the one person that really seems to like this fic.

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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years

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Hello! I love browsing your blog!! You're a talented writer, thank you for sharing that. If you aren't comfortable with this request I completely understand, but could I get HC for Eivor and an SO that self harms? Like she's been doing well but falls off the wagon? Regardless, I hope you're having a great day!

Hi, yes I'm alright with doing this request and I hope that you're able to seek help because everyone deserves to heal. There are always lines that you can call (such as Samaritans) or apps to help you quit such as I Am Sober - I know how difficult this is and I wish you all the best in getting clean. I hope things take a better turn in your life <3 (I'm also going to assume this is Fem! Eivor because most of the requests I get are for her, if not, I'm happy to make a genderbent version for you)

TW: self-harm

Eivor won't ever be angry at you but of course she won't be happy with what you're doing either

She'll hold you close and rub your back while you talk about anything that you're comfortable with regarding why you did it (or just sit near you if you really don't want to be touched) and then she'll tell you how much you mean to her and your loved ones

She'll remind you that are are so many people in your life who love and adore you and that she is absolutely, unquestionably one of them

She'll encourage you to keep them clean (she'll even help you with it unless you're anything like me and hate people seeing it, in which case she'll get you everything that you need and trust that you'll do it)

On a side note on if you hate people seeing them, she'll buy you some new comfy shirts with long sleeves to wear until they're healed up so that you can feel comfortable and you have some to change into because I know baths/showers can feel awful for them afterwards

Eivor won't ever push your boundaries with something like this so she'll sit down with you with a notepad and help you to write down reasons why you'd like to stop and anything you think that you can do to accomplish that

She'll also encourage you to go to therapy if you're ok with that and makes it her mission to take you somewhere nice afterwards so that you can associate those days with good things or to ease the weight of any difficult things that you might have had to talk about while there

She's very enthusiastic when you hit milestones in clean days and likes to find ways to celebrate with you, no matter how big or small that might be: it'll range from taking trips out into nearby cities to just having a movie night at home

She always lets you know how proud she is of you recovering, that she'll never judge you for your scars and that you are completely and utterly worthy of recovering

#female eivor #lady eivor #eivor wolfsmal #eivor wolfkissed #eivor x reader #f! eivor x reader #eivor varinsdóttir x reader #eivor varinsdóttir #tw self harm #tw: self harm #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed

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abbysdolly · 9 months

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RAAAAAAA VIKING ABBY AND READER

(idk if you do x reader stuff i just saw your requests for asks lmao)

⁀➷ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭-𝑲𝑰𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 ˚₊‧⁺˖

𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘹 𝘷𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

ೀ › 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: OMG anon I've been thinking about viking!abby so many times before! And thank you so much for being officially my first request! hope you like it and sorry if there's any errors hehe. (Also I took the last name for Abby because of Eivor the main character of Assassin's Creed Valhalla, and the style of female Eivor is how I envision viking!abby) ♡

ೀ › 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Reader is female, suggestive content so minors do not interact, fluff and lightly mention of battles and scars. Let me know if there's anything else! ♡

(Special thanks to @andromeda-abides and @little-star-bun who helped me proofread this fic ♡)

There she was. Accompanied by the imposing howl of wolves, ax in hand. Crimson droplets adorned her shield and clothes while her slightly chapped lips quivered with irrepressible courage. She fought like no man known could. The way her ax moved smoothly like the wind itself was hypnotic and filled with such grace, passion and anger.

Her golden hair trapped in tiny and big braids, some strands danced freely adorned with silver rings that made it look like the golden light of the sun combined with the mysterious silver stars from the midnight sky.

And in that exact moment you knew that your heart belonged to her, for eternity.

The stories people told didn't do her justice. Especially the first time you saw her fight. The first time your eyes and hers connected with deep love and devotion between the clashing of axes and bodies that now sleeped eternally waiting for the Valkyries.

Like a ravenous wolf she ended every enemy in sight; she was a living myth. Some even believed that she was perhaps the unknown daughter of Odin himself, given that her strength was comparable to the All-father himself.

But only you could see the truth behind those tough looks and that pretty scar that adorned one side of her face, a scar of forgotten battles that helped her to build the respect she had now. You could see the woman who had fears and weakness like all humans, but there was nothing more beautiful to you.

"Freyja, Lady of the North, empower me. Give me strength, withhold my fear, embolden my spirit... Give me courage" she whispered, the familiar view of her kneeled in front of the wooden statue of the Goddess only meant that another battle was waiting beyond the threshold of your shared home.

The prayers to the Goddess Freyja and Odin were the only things that accompanied Abby to her battles, the battles to defend the honor of her people and most importantly to defend the land where you lived in peace with her.

"They are back, they are safe!" one of the children shouted while running to the entry of the village. Soon enough you heard the cries of the families that awaited for their beloved ones.

Your feet moved with such speed, eager eyes searching for Abby that was greeting the many children around her that were impatient to know the adventures she had this time.

"Okay, okay. I'll tell you all that we saw before dinner!" she answered to the children who ran and laughed around her.

Her beautiful eyes met yours making you feel goosebumps like the first time you exchanged looks with her.

A tender smile found a place in her face. She fought for days and she was beyond tired but seeing you was the best part of coming back home.

"Abby, you're back! Oh you can't imagine how much I missed you. Are you alright? Are you injured?" your voice breaking like the thin ice that covers the rivers in the winter, filled with emotion.

Trembling hands caressed Abby's face, making sure she was really there and not something created by your mind. But no, she was there with you.

"Of course I'm back, like I always do" she responded with a now toothy smile and continued "Shh, shh. I'm alright my love, I'm here with you… Finally" her lips soon found yours with deep need and desire, her familiar pine scent filled your senses while the heated kiss said better than any words could.

"Let me help clean you up before dinner, you need to rest my love" you whispered once the kiss ended, her forehead pressed slightly to yours while her big and calloused hands holded your face with tenderness.

A surprised gasp left your mouth as soon as you were now being carried away by Abby, your waist resting against one of her broad shoulders like it was nothing.

Shortly after between laughs she put you down, the door already opened because of the urge to see her a couple of minutes ago "Well, thank you for the ride" you teased as a smirk appeared on Abby's face.

She sat on one of the two wooden chairs, humming when you began to peel off each one of her clothes leaving her upper body bare "You don't have to thank me, I like carrying pretty girls" her cocky attitude always made you smile endlessly, Abby carried herself with lot of self confidence and you couldn't blame her, she was powerful and beautiful. And she knew it.

"Oh, so you carry every pretty girl that crosses your view?" you questioned, eyebrow arched slightly. Your question made her chuckle "Well, not exactly. Just one pretty girl caught my sight… and my heart" she revealed, her voice and gestures exaggerated making her look like a teenager in love and you couldn't help but roll your eyes and smile at her.

"You're such a tease, Abby Wolf-Kissed" her legs opened to leave place to yours, your hands undoing her tight braids making her blonde locks fall beyond her shoulders and covering her chest slightly "But I love you that way" you continued, this time in a gentle and loving whisper due to the closeness. The dim and warm light of the lantern illuminated the scars spaced across Abby's body, your fingertips traced along them and you remembered how some of them were cleaned and treated by you.

She looks up at you, feeling safe under your gaze and touch "I thank the gods for letting me see you again. And I thank you for doing my duties while I'm away" her hands found home on your waist trying to have you closer.

"You don't need to thank me, Abby. I enjoy taking care of our people like you always do, I thank the gods as well for bringing you back to me… Safe'' her eyes sparkled beautifully and just by looking at them you could feel all the love behind those icy orbs.

Her hands caressed your waist going down slightly to your thighs, missing the feeling of your warm body against the skin of her rough hands. Your cheeks warmed up at the familiar feeling of her hands roaming your body with such confidence, your body molding like clay under her hands making your current task of cleaning her body something so hard to do.

Her eyes never left your face as you tried to soak a piece of cloth to clean hers. The black painting around her eyes now slightly faded and easily to clean, the dirt going away allowing you to see those pretty freckles spaced across her nose and cheeks "You're so beautiful" you whispered again now cleaning her neck and shoulders, the air thick enough that Abby could cut it with her ax.

She smiled, her cheeks getting warm as soon as she heard your compliment. Even though she was tough and strong you could make her so shy with just a compliment "Not as beautiful as you, my love" she answered in a whisper, the muscles of her toned arms flexing each time you passed the wet cloth on her warm and freckled skin.

Her gentle, slightly calloused hand cupped your cheek, searching for those beautiful eyes of yours. Searching for those pretty lips she craved so badly until she couldn't control herself anymore and stole a kiss from them. The passion glowed through both your pores and each gentle touch said a small "I love you" onto the other's skin.

The only thing in your mind was her and only her, all of her. Her smell, her hair, her lips, her body, how warm she was, everything.

"I have something for you" she breathed between the heated kisses. "Close your eyes for me, please" her velvety voice making your head fuzzy (obviously not for the heated make out session you had a couple of seconds ago).

And so you did, you closed your eyes and sighed nervously. Her gifts and surprises were always exciting but this time everything felt even more intimate, more serious.

Gently Abby put a gold ring out of one of the tiny pockets in her belt.

"Open your eyes now, my love" she whispered, leaving a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose while putting the precious ring on the palm of your hand. Her heartbeat fast, eager to see your reaction.

Your eyes opened slowly seeing her red cheeks and a shy smile, she took your hand and took the ring again putting it slowly on your ring finger, eyes not leaving yours.

The ring was shaped like a little flower with gemstones for the petals, each one shining beautifully almost like Abby's eyes. "Oh Abby this is so beautiful, you–" she cut you off with a gentle kiss on your lips "My love… Would you marry me?" each side of her hands on your face as she said that, her voice making you enter to the Valhalla almost instantly.

"Of course I want to Abby! I would be so glad to be your wife. I'd love to" you answered with tears of happiness running down your cheeks. Her smile grew bigger from the pride of finally having you as her precious wife. Her strong arms lifted you with ease and she laughed with joy while she spinned you around the house.

Both of your hearts felt the same thing as the first time you saw each other. With unconditional love and devotion, though she wasn't a seer, she definitely saw that you were for her and only her; your destinies were sewn together by Fregga herself.

Thank you for reading! Any like reblog or comment are really appreciated, have a good day/night and don´t forget to drink water! love ya! ♡

#ೀ › 𝓼𝓪𝓲𝓪 𝓲𝓼... 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 ! ·˚ ༘₊·#♡ › 𝓽𝓸: 𝓪𝓫𝓫𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fic #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby tlou2 #the last of us abby #abby the last of us #wlw #anon! 💗

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liyawritesss · 11 months

Text

ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴇɪᴠᴏʀ ᴠᴀʀɪɴꜱᴅᴏᴛᴛɪʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: Eivor Varinsdottir(Female Data String) x Black!Fem!Reader

From: Assassin's Creed: Valhalla

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: When the Jarlskona of Raventhorpe sets her eyes upon you, there is virtually nothing you can do to sway her affection. What would a courtship with Eivor Wolf-Kissed entail?

Warnings: fem!data stream!eivor, cursing, game-canon violence, mentions of injuries and wound dressing

A/N: Started playing AC: Valhalla and honestly? Ubisoft don’t miss when it comes to this franchise. It’s been out for a bit now and it seems to be a bit dry out there, so allow me to feed the blk eivor lovers out there

Tags: @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @niyahwrites

First and foremost, Eivor is an intense lover. There are no if, ands or buts about that. She’s lost everything and worked to regain it all back; her honor, her respect; and if she chooses you to be her lady, then best believe it was a choice made precisely.

You joined Ravensthorpe via trade - you were a fine seamstress looking for a settlement to call home. As you had a skill that could benefit yourself and the settlement, Eivor allowed your transition into the camp. She was impressed by your craftsmanship and with another winter closing in, the town would need all the best weaving and sewing it could get to brace for it.

After your first initial meeting, there were only fleeting moments of which the two of you would greet each other and talk. You were a joy to be around, always sporting a simple smile and engaging in Eivor’s jokes and combatting her sarcasm with your own. You were one of few people who could keep up with her and it sparked a friendship between the two of you.

Though you’d always had an eye for the jarlskona since your arrival - and honestly, who could blame you; the woman was large and brooding, carrying an air of mystery and absolute dominance while simultaneously being a comfort to you - there was a level of hierarchy that had to be maintained. Yes, she was attractive, but she was also your leader.

This is definitely a situation where one person falls first and the other falls harder. And while both of you are good at hiding your feelings (or maybe it’s just both of you are oblivious to the other’s affections), there was no denying that something was there.

Eivor’s realization of her affections comes when she receives her cloak back from you. She had asked you to repair it, as someone had ripped it pretty badly during a raid, because it was her favorite and she never left the settlement without it. It’s through Valka that you learn that the cloak is the last thing she has of her mother who was killed right in front of her when she was young. And while there was very little left of the original cloak to work with, you came up with a brilliant idea that you prayed wouldn’t end in her yelling at you for it.

You’d been wanting to make her a new one anyway, and with the torn one being the right shade of light brown you needed, you decided to use it on the hem and edges of the cloak, thickening it so that the frigid winter air wouldn’t make it through as easily. A wolf pelt was also sewn as the collar for the cloak, and hidden underneath it was a regular hood for when the cold was too much to bear in the face.

It was a fairly simple design, really, fortified by an extra layer of cloth for the cold, but to Eivor, it meant everything. When you handed it to her, she took her time analyzing your handiwork, tracing the edges and the hem of the cloak where it would meet at her chest, remembering the times her mother would hug her from behind in the same manner. Enveloping her in warmth, protecting her from harm.

There was a thudding in her chest that wouldn’t quiet until she returned to the longhouse. It was heavy and loud and unlike any emotion she had ever felt before. It couldn't be compared to the feeling of near-death, nor the ignorant bliss that came from downing endless horns of ale. She wished she could have figured it out on her own what the heaviness in her chest meant whenever she looked at you, but it took Randvi, her brother’s widow, to tell Eivor that she liked you more as just a friend. Whether she wanted to pursue something further than that, however, would be something she had to figure out alone.

In the weeks approaching winter you’d actually been working with Valka in learning skills to be a healer. She’d predicted that this winter would be bad with a lot of sickness, injuries, and deaths. Unfortunately, she was correct. Her cabin became overrun with injured raiders, and of course, Eivor was amongst the ranks.

Valka suggested that since Eivor had some pretty severe injuries (not to mention a history of hallucinations and visions she’d informed you on), that Eivor should be taken care of by you in the longhouse. It took a little bit of convincing of both you and Eivor (though once the healing salve had been applied to her injuries and she’d drunk a brew Valka made, Eivor couldn't put up much of a fight while she was asleep), but nevertheless, you’d started taking care of Eivor in the comfort of her room. To this day, you aren’t sure if she knew what she was doing when she suggested this arrangement, but you’ve always had your suspicions. They don’t call a wise woman wise for nothing.

Weeks went by and Eivor was making a steady recovery, having regained much of her strength and was able to move around on her own now. SO you started coming around less often, which saddened her. One night, while you were cleaning and redressing her nasty shoulder wound, she pointed out the exhaustion that plagued your face and asked you if it would make things easier if you spent the night, and to be truthful in your response.

You admitted that it would be easier, but you had no sleeping clothes and you would have had to travel across the settlement to get them anyway. Eivor offered up one of her shirts a bit too eagerly, though quickly covered it up with an ‘it’s what friends do’, which was a painful statement to say because after being taken care of a dotted on by you for the past few weeks, it became increasingly clear for her that she wanted more than just friendship.

She still doesn’t know what officially solidified it for her, but the moment she sees you in her linen shirt, a particularly large one that hung slightly off shoulder and created a pretty contrast against your dark skin, glowing against the candlelight that flickers throughout the room, she makes up her mind that she will ask you to be hers before the night is over with.

Eivor is no stranger to having to be quick-witted in timely situations, and this is no different. She formulates how she will pose the question to you, shuffling through different starting points, trying to also hold a steady resolve so that she can actually get to the question and not chicken out when things get hot.

Which is exactly what almost happens when you ask to take down her braids that she’s had in for god knows how long, too fixated on healing to really notice her hair needed attention as well. And when she’s met with your hands in her hair, it takes every fiber of her vikingr being to not lose focus.

You’re standing in front of her while she sits on the edge of the bed. You’re rebraiding the two side pieces she normally has in, and there’s talk of the events that happened in your day while you were out before you came to check in on her. You end up moving a certain way that causes you to lose your balance, you almost fall on top of her but she catches you before you do. A crisis averted…

…and yet her hands dont leave your hips. Eivor tries to pull them away, she really does, but she can’t help that they feel right being on your sides. And when you lock eyes the intensity of the atmosphere and in your stares all but thickens, and suddenly Eivor is at a loss of any words she thought she was gonna speak.

Eivor is a skilled warrior, hardened on the battlefield, mind sharpened from years of training and discipline, but it’s the slightest nudge you give her when you lean forward, when you’re looking down at her with your pretty eyes and full lips slightly parted, when you seemingly melt into her hands - its then that every resolve she has falls through the cracks, and she pulls you onto her lap, and kisses you through the searing pain that courses through her shoulder when she encourages you to straddle her.

Eivor is an intense lover. She does properly ask to court you, after catching her breath from the mindblowing kiss she’d stolen from you, and from then on, there’s not a doubt in anyone's mind who has the jarlskona’s favor. She prides herself in having you as her Lady, wanting to spoil you with the riches at her disposal but understands if being dressed up isn’t you’re cup of tea. She grants you the same respect that is expected to be given to her - you are her equal, and she will love you with everything she has until Odin calls her to Valhalla.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

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ashandquiet · 7 months

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My Most Unswerving Devotion

Chapter 4: The Duke's Ball

Regency! Soma Jarlskona x F!Reader

Summary: Since coming to Norfolk to stay with your family, the conversations have all revolved around matrimony. Just when your aunt has found a match for you much to your chagrin, quite by accident you fall for the wealthy Duke of Cambridgeshire; Soma Guthrumsdóttir. Can circumstance truly keep you apart?

A/N: Our heroine arrives at the home of the Duke and explores the splendorous halls of her manor. I hope you all enjoy this update! I would love to know what you imagine your ballgown to look like, please visit my ask box and let me know there!

Read it on Ao3

You spent the next week buried in letters from Oswald, the rate of your correspondence had your aunt whispering about how you were surely in love, and how marriage couldn’t be far off. Yet that could not be further from the truth.

If she could’ve seen the true nature of your letters she would have been severely disappointed by the mention of Oswald’s other amour, Valdis, and that you were set to help him woo her and gain approval from her elder brothers; whose names you had come to learn were Brothir and Broder. They had fled from a gentleman in Denmark who was completely set on possessing Valdis even if that meant against her will. Due to these circumstances, the brothers were very apprehensive when it came to other alternate matches for their younger sister.

So while you busied yourself with ways that Oswald could entreat himself upon Vadis’s brothers, your new friend had set about procuring all the names and likenesses that he could of the lady gentlemen about the countryside.

In his most recent letter, Oswald assured you that at least three would be in attendance at the ball hosted by Soma Guthrumsdóttir. This list included the lady gentleman from the picnic, Birna Knudsen the daughter of some wealthy Scandinavian merchants, and the equerry to the Duke’s estate. Eivor Varinsdóttir, a friend of Oswald’s and apparently the Duke as well, was the orphaned child of a land-holding man in Norway who was adopted by another wealthy man. She and her brother had come to England to establish their own fortunes here. And of course, there would be the fabled Duke of Cambridgeshire herself, Soma Guthrumsdóttir, as she was the host. Yet you doubted your chances of even meeting her.

While it was customary for the guests to introduce themselves at a normal ball, a masquerade was quite different. All you had to look for was the presence of women dressed as men with masquerade masks.

As you pondered the worn threads of the handkerchief while sitting at the old mahogany writing desk, you couldn’t help but feel a slight tinge of bitterness.

Perhaps if you had been born wealthy or of better station you would have the luxury afforded to the women within the Duke’s inner circle. A life full of adventure and opportunity, and the freedom of financial choice. After all, it all came down to the money, it was not having it that put your future in jeopardy. Should your mother’s older brother have been more generous perhaps you wouldn’t have been forced into considering marriage as an economic proposition instead of one of amorous devotion.

Perhaps all the books you have read have completely spoiled you, and true love didn't exist after all.

You envied your new friend and his fortune in being a man, and his lady love for her vehemently protective older brothers blocking any idea of marriage.

You tried to shake the nasty feeling as you stood and paced about your room. Counting your blessings helped a bit to shirk the cruel sentiments away, you had made a friend, and he was willing to play at being your pretend suitor so that you could avoid matches at least till the end of the season. You had a mystery to unravel and a lady gentleman to chase, no matter how hopeless it seemed at times. And your uncle had just paid for a new dress to be constructed for you at the beginning of the summer, perhaps at the behest of your aunt and her insistence that your simple fashions would do little to win you the hand of a young man.

But nonetheless, it had arrived from the dressmakers at just the right time. The elegant piece hung from the top of your boudoir now, with all its splendorous beading and embroidery. Its matching masquerade mask was fashioned with feathers and set upon a sculpted rod, with a loop for the wrist fashioned with a string of pearls. Truly the most opulent garment and accessories you had ever seen.

A pack of fortunate blessings indeed.

Regardless of the events to come at the ball, you resigned yourself to make the most of the evening.

ꕥ

On the evening of the ball, it was raining.

You had stayed quiet while the maids helped you dress and affix your hair into a fashionable style with adjournments that complimented your dress in just the right way. They whispered and giggled about the joys of a ball and what a sensible event a masquerade could be for a burgeoning courtship.

Apparently, all ears in the household were aware of the supposed romantic attachment between you and Mr. Egerton. You made a note to inform Oswald tonight that you would be limiting your letters to once a week before rumors could spiral completely out of hand.

With your wrist freshly dressed with new bandages to cover the bruising and decorated with a pearl bracelet since gloves were out of the question due to limited mobility in your fingers, the maids stepped back to admire their handiwork and excused themselves back to other tasks.

“Are you alright miss?” One of the younger girls asked as the other two slipped out of the room with baskets of linens and your tray from afternoon tea.

You glanced over at her and offered a polite smile, “Yes, I’m alright, thank you.”

“If your wrist troubles you miss I could fetch some ice?”

“No it's quite alright thank you,” you hoped desperately you looked dismissive and that she’d leave.

With a final nod, she collected her basket of things and shuffled out of the room leaving you alone with your thoughts at last. You rose from the vanity stool to stand by the large window of your bedroom.

You rested your temple against the chilled glass watching as delicate droplets of summer rain hit the glass. Your thoughts were an incoherent mess, and your head was beginning to ache. Within a few hours, you would arrive at the home of the Duke of Cambridgeshire.

There you would have to scour what you could of the faces of party guests all dressed in finery and hidden behind masquerade masks. All while at least appearing cordial to the young men in attendance. Perhaps, you could “lose” your dance card in the gardens, and then any attempt to secure a dance with you could be rebuked. For it would be positively impolite to promise dances to anyone if you couldn’t keep track of who had asked for dances.

Or you could “forget” to place them in your handbag altogether. Where would you positively have the space? You turned your attention to the handbag stuffing the handkerchief inside with a vail of peppermint smelling salts should you need them. You briskly made your way down the main staircase and into the foyer where your aunt and uncle waited for the carriage to be brought around front.

Ever the demure gentleman your uncle was dressed plainly in a simple suit, clutching his simple silk mask. Your aunt, however, was dressed extravagantly in a bright lilac brocade, a gauzy gossamer shawl wrapped around her shoulders, with her hair done up full of adornments. Her own masquerade mask much like your own was worn around her wrist on a bracelet, the gaudy thing looked heavy, all decorated with gold and feathers.

She was so busy fussing over your uncle’s plain appearance, that when she finally caught sight of you she startled.

“Oh- my dear niece don’t you look just lovely! If you haven’t captured the heart of Mr. Egerton already you surely will tonight!” She swept her arms in large motions, making a full circle around you.

“Didn’t the dressmakers do the most wonderful job, dear husband?” She asked your uncle, though you weren’t sure she really expected him to answer.

“You look lovely Miss (Y/N),” your uncle nodded politely to you and walked towards the doors at the sound of the carriage wheels crunching on the wet stone pathway. “Now come on ladies, we don’t want to be late for the masquerade.”

You followed his lead and stepped out into the late afternoon air, despite the rain it was mildly warm out, and the smell of petrichor permeated the air with an almost iron quality. A butler held an umbrella over your head as you made your way to the carriage door, carefully lifting the skirts of your ballgown so they weren't ruined by the water that pooled in the rocks. On the horizon, you could see stretches of pink through the light spots in the clouds as the sun set just beyond the cover of rain.

As you took your seat you released a long breath and gazed out the window. Oswald had agreed to find you once you arrived, ask for a dance to keep your aunt satiated, and then after you would slip away and begin your investigation. All you had to do was survive this carriage ride.

The whole of the carriage ride from your uncle's estate to the home of the Duke your aunt tittered about the humidity inside the carriage, the length of the ride, and the abysmal subject of the perversion of a woman to think she can take the title of a man. While you couldn’t help but wish that the sound of the rain on the carriage roof was loud enough to drown out her idle prattle, your uncle repeatedly rebuked her attempts to stir contempt toward your host.

“If you cannot bring yourself to be civil towards our host, I will have this carriage turned around at once,” your uncle stated plainly as he fiddled with the silk of his masquerade mask for the umpteenth time. “She has kindly extended an invitation to us, I do not understand where you have gained such a predisposition to dislike the Duke, but if you must. Please save the rest of us the misery of hearing you commiserate about it.”

Your aunt sputtered clutching at her gloves, “M-my love, but haven’t you heard she- she lays with women.”

“Must you really recycle that old rumor? Are you afraid she’ll steal all the young ladies of the countryside away from you?” Your uncle gave her a pointed look that suggested she say no more on the subject.

“What would it matter if she did?” You asked softly as you fiddled with the wrap around your injured wrist.

“What would it matter-” Your aunt’s statement was cut short by a knock on the roof by the carriage driver.

The sudden disturbance caused all heads to turn towards the windows, there in the shimmering night, lay a magnificent manor house.

Even in the rain, the front was lit up with tiny glittering fires that shone off the cream-colored stone. Two mirrored staircases led from the oblong drive to an elevated terrace decorated with the boisterous blooms of hollyhock and delicate primroses, a Grecian colonnade held up a balcony lined with wisteria. Meticulously groomed hedges protected red-blooming crepe myrtle trees that hung heavy with blooms framed the front of the elegant home.

Identical glass doors lay open sending the raucous sounds of music and partygoers across the drive and waterlily-filled fountain, wherein the center three bare-breasted Grecian maidens poured water from painstakingly carved amphoras down into the pool that traveled the length of the drive.

“It's… breathtaking…,” you whispered moving ever closer to the window feeling as if you looked away from the dream before you it would disappear.

“It certainly is, the old Duke did have a flair for the dramatic,” your uncle affirmed as the carriage rolled to a stop between the two staircases.

“I doubt the naked maidens were his addition,” your aunt quipped as servants dressed in deep Aegean blue vests approached with umbrellas.

Your uncle turned towards her sharply, “If you must make comments perhaps we should return home. (Y/N), would you like to stay?”

For all her previous bluster your aunt fell silent as all eyes turned to you. Now it was your decision. Stay and look for the truth, or go.

Mustering your courage you smiled politely, “I can ask Mr. Egerton to bring me home in his carriage come the parties end.”

“Then it’s settled,” your uncle nodded to the servant who drew open the doors and you climbed out of the dark humid carriage and into the dewy night air.

“Be polite!” Was the last cry from the woman you left behind as you climbed the stone staircase and raised your masquerade mask to your eyes.

Finally, your hunt for the lady gentleman would begin.

ꕥ

Oswald met you in the main foyer, his own mask lifted so you could see his face, the mask pushed upwards mussed his blonde curls.

“Miss (Y/N), you’re here! And unchaperoned?” His voice was chipper yet cautious as he looked around for your aunt and uncle curiously.

“Due to, unforeseen… prejudice, I am attending unaccompanied yes, perhaps, it would be alright if I were to join you in your carriage for the ride back to Norfolk at the end of the night?” You asked moving your own mask aside so you could speak better.

“But of course! I couldn’t leave such a friend stranded,” he smiled and offered you his arm. “Come with me, I’ll supply you with a tour.”

The interior was just as splendorous with wide-open common spaces and glamorous furnishing. Once you looked up to see the visage of a goddess draped in gold painted upon the ceiling, her long golden hair spilling around her like the rays of the sun, her face tranquil and her hands outstretched.

Seasonal florals draped window sills and the edges of stairs, with spiraling candles decorating open spaces, illuminating the guests in a warm golden hue. The smell of orange flower cordial mixed with that of fresh fruit and decadent cheeses on table tops. Waiters stood in doorways and common areas with trays of ratsfia and punch, others with water and ices.

As Oswald guided you around the wide sprawling rooms decorated with paintings and sculptures, opulent rugs, and elegant drapery you became acutely aware that you were amongst a different sort of company here. Something about the energy that radiated from the very walls and the people that filled the rooms oozed safety and community.

While it was likely that societal rules still applied here, you pondered which rules exactly, surely not the same rules of the society your aunt clung to so vehemently. The ones where women wore dresses and men wore suits, where propriety was following the exact societal pressures to the letter. Women married men and had babies, and most certainly didn’t go about the countryside kissing other ladies.

After Oswald had shown you around the quieter rooms with their art, the pair of you entered the main ballroom you were quickly overcome by all the sights, colors, and smells.

A small ensemble of performers played jovial music from a raised platform in a far corner, filling the space with sound. Here people danced and laughed, chatted, and clapped along with the music. Everyone dressed in their finery faces obscured by masks of all kinds.

The heat of the bodies all around you made you glad of the open doors along the exterior walls, they bid glances out to the manicured gardens and the cool stone columns that lined the veranda.

You motioned for Oswald to halt and picked a place near enough to the doors that a gentle night breeze could cool your heated skin. He obliged and led you towards the nearest unoccupied high table. Thankful for the reprieve you placed your handbag down on the table. It was becoming difficult to hold up both your masquerade mask and the weight of the handbag with only one hand.

Now with the space between you and your companion, you felt free to let your eyes wander about the room. For a moment they lingered on a tall blonde woman dressed in blacks and blues and stayed there. You took account of her stylish men's suit, another lady gentleman. Her own mask was styled to look like a raven decorated with black feathers and silver detailing. The embroidery of her suit jacket was styled like that of the ancient Viking wood carvings and ravens. Oswald must’ve caught your glance because he leaned in so you could hear him over the din.

“My friend Eivor,” he said, and you recalled the name with a nod. “The woman wearing the cat mask with her is Valka, an old friend of her’s recently came from Norway.”

You nodded observing the pair, Valka was dressed elegantly yet almost simply in black, and her hair was wrapped in a black scarf making the natural ashen color of her mask stand out against the black silk. Soon a middling-height red-headed woman dressed in cobalt blue joined them from the dance that just concluded.

Oswald tapped the table lightly, “I’ll be right back, what do you say to a capillaire? Or perhaps a rose water?”

“Just a rose water would be fine thank you,” You nodded and waved him off letting your eyes continue to scan the crowd.

You spotted at least two other women dressed in gentlemen's clothes upon his departure and began to wonder if Oswald was really right about the country being filled with lady gentlemen. Maybe you operated in the completely wrong circles after all. Flushing you began to wonder how many ladies were in attendance that like you, held sapphic tendencies.

How many people had fled the ball before even entering the otherworldly manor house at the sight of the bare-breasted maidens alone? Or was the mention of the Duke’s name and her reputation alone enough to scare people away.

You noticed a tall lady gentleman weaving through the crowd, her dark hair pulled back, her own masquerade mask the visage of a horse. She approached the blonde, Eivor, and her companions and began speaking to them in a bright and affable way. From the musical lilt of her voice, you recognized her from the picnic as Birna Knudsen, the equerry of the estate.

That was two of the lady gentlemen Oswald had mentioned accounted for, you bit your knuckle as you glanced around the room curiously. Where would a Duke be in a place of such affluence and lush?

Oswald returned just as you had begun to admire the beautiful frescoes that adorned the ceilings.

“One rose water for the lady,” He said as he passed you the fine coupe glass.

“Thank you,” you took a sip and couldn’t help but sigh, the cool liquid helped to chill you. “I hadn’t realized how hot I was feeling.”

Oswald nodded as he sipped his own drink, “I hope you won’t find it an impertinence but I was thinking about joining the revelry…”

You shook your head quickly, “No please, go enjoy your evening.”

“Well, if you're so eager to be rid of me,” he teased but smiled. “Come and find me should you need anything (Y/N).”

With that, he was gone and you were left alone with your glass of rose water and a puzzle to unpick.

After a bit more time people-watching in the main ballroom, you picked up your handbag and decided to explore the open rooms of the manor at your own pace. In one room you found a pianoforte which was being played by a younger girl, who would surely have been very good if not for her singing. In another room, two men sat whispering and chuckling to themselves their hands clasped together affectionately. Neither seemed to notice or care about your presence or any other person in the room for that matter, one of the gentlemen leaned in close, cupping the other's face, and planted a sweet loving kiss upon his nose.

You felt flush upon seeing such a private moment of affection and fled the room. Embarrassment fluttered in your chest as you ducked out onto a balcony, blushing you leaned up against a wall. You could not begin to comprehend how you felt, the moment of intimacy burned in your mind. The idea of being so open with the one you love, in such a public space as a ball, regardless of gender.

You sighed and stepped away from the wall and walked along the edge of the overhang, letting the cool mist from the rain that bounced off the stone cool your flush skin. From your handbag, you pulled the handkerchief, its worn threads soothing your piqued nerves.

How strange, you found yourself thinking, that such a small thing could provide such comfort. You closed your eyes and sighed leaning up against one of the Grecian columns letting the soft plip-plop of raindrops on stone, cooled evening air, and the sweet perfume of evening primroses wash over you.

In your thoughts you were there again, the lady gentleman’s hands, gently caressing your injured wrist, her brassy voice tranquil and kind. You could still smell the grass, and feel the warmth of the afternoon sun, yet around the edges, the memory was beginning to fade.

The sound of footsteps brutally yanked you from the echo of your encounter. You stood up straight and turned to face the person who interrupted your reverie.

There stood a lady gentleman, her rich brown hair pulled back into a loose bun and some strands hung loose about her neck and chin, her face was uncovered by a mask allowing you to examine her strong features more thoroughly. She had a strong jaw and a quizzical brow, her stormy gray eyes caught the candlelight and shone like fresh foam on the sea. She was dressed elegantly in a black waistcoat lined with shimmering yellow silk, and her vest was embroidered with all manner of florals and the sign of a snake on the lapel. In her hand, she held your mask, you must've dropped it in your haste.

“Miss, I believe you dropped this,” She approached slowly, her honey-rich voice dripped with concern and something, like confusion. And yet you knew exactly who it was, in all your waking dreams you would know her voice.

She paused steps away from you, quickly examining your form. In the most tender voice, that almost cracked on every syllable, “Dove… is that you…?”

#soma jarlskona #soma jarlskona x reader #ac valhalla #regency au #soma x reader #soma ac valhalla #regency inspired #austen inspired #i hope you caught all the little character references #sorry for the cliffhanger but i am for all intents and purposes evil >:D

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erzsebetrosztoczy · 9 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Hello Hi Adjonisten I'm alive

Okay so I wrote AGES ago Sweet Papa Susej and honestly I feel the need to write again but at the same time I'm as hyped as a dead worm so ugh💀😭🤌

Anyway my fave 5 fics from myself are:

Eivor working for an alliance with an english Lady (tbh i want to continue this too im just🧍‍♀️)

Haytham x f!reader (i felt so fluff when i wrote it sksksjjxwjdj i still giggle when i think about it)

Domesticity (A Jalim fic i still think about when i hear that song)

Ivarr x reader (It was so refreshing writing about soft Ivarr)

Night thoughts (This Salim x reader fic has a soft spot in my heart xkskdjsjdjsj)

#my writing #anon answered #anon aks #anon #anonymous #nonyo #ask games #ask game

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kassandras-one-braincell · 1 year

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There's something in the water, okay?

One minute, I'm replaying the Grantebridgescire and Isle of Skye arcs in Valhalla, the next minute I'm thinking about how Eivor, Kassandra and Soma would, in a modern setting, wield the power of...a certain motorised instrument that vibrates when supplied with electricity. No, not a toothbrush.

Explicit stuff under the cut, containing: AFAB reader (but no gendered language), sex toys, overstimulation, dacryphilia, D/S, the usual.

Minors, men, ageless blogs, piss off.

Eivor, the clever bastard, would carefully rig a harness to support a rabbit vibe sturdily enough for her to destroy you with it. She'd fuck the bulbous toy into you ever so deep, slowly, carnally, drinking in the noises you freely relinquish to her. Never unsheathing herself fully, because she needs to keep that bittersweet stimulation against your clit constant, relishing in the way you writhe at the onslaught, desperately trying to ground yourself by shredding harsh red ribbons into her inked back. All the while, her face is buried in the crook of your neck, your supple skin muffling her own low moans of bliss as the vibrating base rocks into her whenever she bottoms out.

Kassandra would take full advantage of the sensations she can't provide you with her own physical talents. She knows, fuck, she knows that you crave the warmth of her tongue, the thickness of her fingers, and that's exactly why she teases you with a powerful little suction toy. Her angel wouldn't be left wanting for anything...eventually. So she traces the vibe over your nipples, watching you shiver as they pebble over with arousal, pressing hot kisses to your flesh. And she revels in the darling pleas you offer her as she rocks it in quick circles against your clit, smirking as your brain fogs over, the line delectably blurring between wanting Kassandra in the rawest way and needing Kassandra's mercy to make you fall apart just like this.

Soma wouldn't dream of passing up an opportunity to utterly break her sweetheart, now, would she? So why wouldn't she have you straddle a pillow, legs fastened either side with silken bindings, a wand nestled underneath your mound? Your back to her chest, she cages you with a strong arm, keeping you pinned every time your hips try to jump away from the unwavering vibrations. Her other hand busies itself with your mouth, fucking it languidly with her fingers until drool runs down her wrist. She grins wickedly as she makes you choke on your own orgasmic cries. It's only when she can taste the tears decorating your cheeks that she relents, promising to soothe your poor little clit with her tongue, like that wasn't a threat.

#i can smell the smoke of the fires of hell from here #eivor #eivor varinsdóttir #soma jarlskona #kassandra of sparta #kassandra #eivor x reader #lady eivor x reader #kassandra x reader #soma jarlskona x reader #soma x reader #❀ sugar and spice ❀

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shimtarofstupidity · 1 month

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Ive been looking for that black lesbian account who always post these fine ass pics of female eivor for like a few days now,JUST TO LEARN THAT HER ACCOUNT DOENST EXIST ANYMORE???!!!!

RIP @blkdyke u will be missed

#lesbian #wlw #lesbians #female eivor #eivor #fem!reader x eivor #lady eivor #ac eivor #eivor wolfkissed

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femlesbianbarbie · 8 months

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Fútbol Eivor headcanons

Defense or a goalie she can’t run as fast as Kassandra but they always make a good team.

Soma is her captain and they get along way to well. It’s a little weird.

Will full on body slam people without caring.

She has bruised a pitch invaders ribs by body slamming them.

She is the first person to pick a fight with a ref. Somehow she always wins these arguments.

Worst person to interview she hates talking about herself. We love a humble queen.

Speaking on interviews she is almost alway somewhat intoxicated during them.

She does watch thirst edits of herself though. She likes to look at all the comments and reply on her discreet account.

People ship her and Kassandra because they have such good energy on the pitch.

They like to watch ship edits and make fun of each other. It’s a body experience for them.

#eivor wolfkissed #eivor varinsdóttir #ac eivor #eivor x reader #female eivor #lady eivor

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sapphic-woes · 2 years

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Eivor x Fem!Reader - Destined

A/N: So, you're a seer that has a vision of Eivor freeing you from your terrible circumstances, however, you quickly find out she'd not just your savior.

Word Count: 5k. AO3 link

––––––––––

You saw her as death amongst the flames, eyes a piercing blue with axes soaked in crimson. She raised one to you, droplets falling over the mangled body of your king. A violent smile made your body shiver. She mouthed the words your king always spoke over and over to you, but from her lips, you finally felt it was true.

“From this moment forward…you shall be mine.”

You abruptly woke with a sharp gasp, soaked in sweat. You lay there, heaving greatly for a time before you eventually smiled, cheeks flush with fervent joy. Finally, long had you waited to end this torment, and now the future was clear to you. All you had to do now was wait…and soon, your savior would come.

––––––––––

When she appeared it was a week later, and she came seeking something you didn’t want her to have.

“Y/N!” You had been sitting in your room when your king called for you. You bit your bottom lip, not wanting to come out and meet whoever it was. Sometimes, the burden to see was too much, and you wished it all to be gone. However, at the second cry of your name you rose, quickly moving before his voice grew angry.

Her icy gaze fell onto your face, and despite not looking back at her, you could hardly breathe.

In your vision, her stature was that of power. Now, while you didn't look near her face, you saw it was true. You could tell that beneath her thick clothes, her body was war-torn and trained for battle. You sensed she was the kind of person whose only concern was to best herself, though you wished to see her face in real life and confirm it. However, you restrained yourself. That would come in time. For now, you simply drank in her mesmerizing aura, detecting a kind of contained curiosity laced in it. The kind of self control your king did not possess.

“She is a thing of beauty isn’t she?” You held your tongue, merely coming to stand at his side behind his throne. You held in the urge to vomit as you delicately placed your hand over his shoulder, eyes downcast.

“I am blessed with two queens,” the smugness in his voice was so thick it practically dripped off every syllable, "and she is my shadow. She sees all, and if you wish to prove your worth to me, Dane, she must first see you." He tilted his head to look at you, but you did not look at him. You didn't wish to see him anymore than you currently did.

"You know what I require of you, don't you?" You did, and for once you were happy to oblige.

The steps you took towards the Dane were heavy. You did not know what more you would see that hadn't already been revealed to you. She herself stood stiff, cautious as you approached her. You saw her hands flex by her sides, no doubt twitching for her ax. A reflex. Her weapons give her comfort. Certainly, she was a warrior.

Eyes still downcast, you paused just a foot before her. She was taller than you, smelling of the forest and a kindling fire. You breathed the scent in. You slowly exhaled out. No matter how many times you did it, your own powers were too much for you to bear at times.

Finally, you were ready.

You looked up into the sapphire pools of her eyes. There was a jolt of electricity between you two, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Her nicked skin and hardened gaze only made her beauty sharp. The scarred flesh at her neck was intriguing. Her eyebrows furrowed, face blatant with her emotions. The air was thick with tension, but it was sweet, and your eyes fluttered as you softly spoke.

"Who are you…" you asked not to her but to her soul, studying her gaze, "and what will you do for the king?"

There is a war in her. How odd. You sensed her soul was hers, yet also not her own. The Dane softly scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

"I am Eivor the wolf-kissed, and I am here to fight for your king…" Her confident drawl did not go unnoticed by you. It complemented the gravelly depth of her voice, "if he honors his word."

That is true, but it is not. She is also a king, but she is not. There were two truths to this Eivor and no lies. The impossibility of her puzzled you greatly. You stepped closer and really looked, attempting to shed her physical guise and sink your hands into the future of her soul.

This close, you both shared the same breath, and the heat of her body was addicting. Her eyes searched over your own in intoxicated confusion. There was burning in her eyes you knew all too well, though never on another woman before. Eivor found your mystery alluring, but you did not know why. Nor did it really matter. With little more thought on the matter, you ignored the hunger in her stare.

Focused, you reached up, fingers hovering just above her temple. There is another. A soul much older. Much more powerful…is she aware–

The tip of your fingers grazed her skin, and suddenly she was pulling you into a hot, branding kiss.

Her hands were greedy, grabbing a fistful of your hair to hold you still as her lips captured yours. She wanted you, and that desire was ravenous–making her grasp at your hips and thighs, kneading your breasts under her rough palms. She chuckled at your weak, needy sounds, breath hot against your ear as she teased you.

"What do you want? Use your words, love," she playfully mocked as she kissed your bare shoulder, hands cruelly dancing around the wetness between your thighs.

"How do you want me to take you?"

You pulled away so sharply, she could have been made of fire. What was that? Eivor had closed her eyes, keeling into your touch. Now her eyes snapped open as if coming out of a trace, her fiery gaze more alive than ever. This time, it made your own skin tingle and heart stutter, and hastily you stepped back.

"She…” you paused to hold in a stutter, feeling incredibly small under the weight of her stare, “she is the one."

With that you swallowed, setting your eyes down once again. You turned away to walk back up to your king, finding him looking gleeful that Eivor could be used. He nodded to dismiss you, and you offered the Dane one last glance, breath hitching in your throat when you realized she hadn't stopped looking at you in the first place. Your king noticed as well.

"Perhaps I will offer you my queen as a reward along with this alliance, should you succeed." Eivor visibly perked up at that. Your king dramatically paused before he sneered, "my actual queen of course." As usual, he is cruel to her.

You knew the real queen was a beauty simply aged, and a kind soul. She didn't deserve to be the butt of his joke. Now the queen offered a strained smile as the entire hall erupted into goading laughter at her expense. Eivor locked her jaw, clearly frustrated with your king's behavior. You wished you could stay longer, but to stay would cause suspicion, and besides…

You needed darkness.

You saw that she would succeed, and the lies your king spewed to her would fuel her with rage. Rather than fight the Danes he lied had done him wrong, she would join them. The massacre of the soldiers felt so real that you could smell the blood of them in the darkness of your room. You could feel the heat of the fires scorching your skin, the screams of the village filling your ears. Even if you tried to escape, destiny dictated that she’d catch you on her horse as you fled, or pull you out of this burning hall should you refuse to leave. If you hid, she would find you any place you chose, and if you tried to fight her, she would simply laugh and hold you close–

No matter how you saw it, she was the one. She alone would bring you out of this imprisonment, and through this experience, you would be bonded to her…but what had that other vision been?

In the pitch darkness of your room, you shivered. She had held you in both a commanding, yet gentle way. Greed in the form of devotion. Your skin warmed, and you softly sighed, replaying the vision back in your head. The tempting pull of her voice and her coarse hands, the way her lips felt pressed over yours–you felt your core tingle with need, and you blushed, shaking your head. There wasn’t much time left, and you needed to prepare. Quickly you gathered your things before slipping out of your room and over to the queen’s. She was waiting for you, as she always did.

“Y/N! You said she was the one, did you mean–” You nodded, eyes on your feet as you heard her let out a sigh of relief. Her voice bubbled with excitement, “Then we’ll be free? What must we do? Do we simply wait?” You shook your head, stepping towards her. By your demeanor, she immediately knew what you intended to do, body stilling with anticipation.

“My queen, may I…?” You still asked despite doing this several times already. She nodded, and with a deep breath you looked up into the queen’s eyes. Her brown eyes widened, even now she did not know where to look when you did this. You saw the paths she should take, and the ones that would cost her to lose her life, eventually speaking.

“...You mustn't try to save Erin. Her fate is already sealed, and you will die if you try.” You muttered softly as you eyed her. “The Dane Eivor brings back with her is cruel, and if he does not kill you then, it will be later…when you are broken, and no longer of use to him.” At your words the queen sucked in a terrified breath, holding back tears.

“There’s nothing we can do to save her?” You shook your head, and a few tears slipped down her face. “A-alright. Then what of you? When should we leave together–” Again, you shook her head, and her eyes instantly filled with more tears. Before she ended up bawling her eyes out, you quickly carried on.

“I will not die, promise. I have simply begun a new path, one bound to the one they call wolf-kissed.” At the queen’s horror, you smiled softly.

“Do not despair. She will not harm me. Now come–we must be ready when it begins.”

_________________

You could hardly see through the smoke and soot, avoiding the villagers running by. You walked a path opposite theirs, with the edge of your dress and boots soaking in a mixture of mud and blood. The fire raged on like in your dreams, bright and radiant against the night sky. You did not fear the Danes you passed by–none of them even seemed to notice your purposeful steps, and the ones that did simply watched you in confusion.

When you finally saw her, she had already brought your king to his knees.

“You lied to me.” Eivor’s jagged voice made your spine quiver. Blood was splattered across her cheeks and clothes. She grabbed hold of your king’s hair, jerking his neck back to expose it to her bloody ax.

“You gave me your word.” Clearly, liars were a pet peeve to her. You watched your king as he babbled, finally reminded of what he was without his precious crown and silver.

Nothing but a measly, creepy old man.

“I–I am sorry! Take everything. The silver, the land–” He glanced around, spotting you. Hope lit into his eyes, though as you looked into his, you knew his fate was sealed. “T-take her! Take the queen, you want her too, don’t you? Have her however you please!”

Eivor looked up at you. Her gaze stripped you bare. For a moment you wondered if she had the same power as you. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips twisted into an amused smile. Her next words were like snakes coiling in the pit of your stomach, sickly alluring. At a time like this, with death and destruction surrounding you, she should not have looked as beautiful as she was to you.

“How can you offer me what I already have?” Your heart pounded against your ribcage from the arrogance of her words. Your eyes widened as she gripped your king tighter, raising her ax. He let out one more yell before she brought it down, and you couldn’t help but flinch as his voice abruptly cut off. His body dropped at her feet, but she already shifted her attention back to you.

Finally, the time has come. She lifted her ax, bloody as it was, pointing it towards you. Her scratchy voice, though exhausted from battle, still commanded you as a king would. A king like none you had ever served before.

"You heard your dead king. You're a part of the Raven Clan now–and I am the jarlskona you now serve."

The hour of my freedom.

_________________

“I have a question.” Her chest rumbled against your back as you rode, breath ticklish by your ear. After you’d obeyed her words, she’d pulled you close, whistling for her horse before lifting you up onto it. She’d swung herself up behind you, thick arms trapping you between them as she held the reins. “Why did you not flee as the other queen did? Or were you waiting for us?”

Your eyes trained on your hands in your lap. Now that you were free, you didn’t have a clue of what to do next. Frankly, you hadn’t thought this far ahead, nor had you seen what your future entailed. Who was this Eivor exactly, and what would she do with you? She is a Dane…so she is from far away? Will we travel across the sea? You had lived in the halls of your Briton king for so long, you didn’t know much else about the kingdoms around you, let alone about Danes.

“I was.” You paused before mustering up the courage to continue, “...I waited for you.” It didn’t help calm your nerves that this was the first time your new ruler had spoken since you had begun riding either. Though, her eyes had ravaged you many times over. However, the rest of her men didn’t bat an eye at your presence. Eivor hummed, thinking before she spoke again.

“You saw this would happen,” at your nod she questioned you, “yet you did not stop it?” She gathered the reins into her right hand in order to use her left, rough fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. You let them guide you while you kept your gaze down, focused on her lips as they curled.

“Why allow this to happen?” You knew what would come from a lie, and you had no desire to hide from her. Not when you could easily see all of her secrets as well.

“I was married to a man I did not choose. So was the queen, and he was not kind to either of us. I foresaw a different path for us through you and decided to take it…must there be a reason more?” She shrugged her shoulders.

“No, but you could have ran. My men say you helped the queen get on a horse and flee…and then you walked through the remnants of your burning village, as though a spirit possessed, until you found me.” Her curiosity is so child-like. Demanding answers for things she will never understand. You let out a soft exhale, and she hung onto it. You were uncertain, with her hand gingerly holding your chin, what you would see if you met her gaze. However, you knew she would not rest until you gave her an answer.

When you cast your eyes up into her own, you experienced a sweetness you never had before.

“Eivor Varinsdottir of the Raven Clan, your destiny and mine are intertwined...” She tangled her fingers between your own, pushing you gently down onto the soft furs of her bed. Her laughter was like nectar to your ears, her smile the radiant sun. Eivor called you hers as her lips trailed down the middle of your chest, the Dane’s hair unwoven and tickling your skin.

Eivor stared down at you with a confused, grim expression. You couldn’t bear to see any longer, looking away with a weak voice as you tried to keep heat from coloring your cheeks

“There was no escaping you. Even if I tried, our paths are connected. You would have found me.” Her silence brought you neither comfort nor discomfort. When she spoke one final time, you couldn't tell what was on her mind, powers or not.

“What do you see when you look at me?” Ah. How were you to speak of it, when the mere memory scorched you alone? You inhaled, fingers curling to grip a handful of your dress.

“A life I do not understand, but it is…lovely, and fulfilling. So I will try to. Until the day I do.”

_________________

That day did not take long to come.

“I have seen too much,” you whispered. You lay beside Eivor in her bed of furs, staying with her while they built you a home in Ravensthorpe. It had been a little less than a month since you’d come to stay, and you loved every second of it.

The people were kind, and they respected your gift. They did not demand you see into their future, but rather politely asked with hefty payments, treating your power as though it was…valuable, and not something they were entitled to have. You had never felt so respected, shocked the first time someone asked you to the point of tears. Back then you’d in turn surprised everyone around you, especially Eivor, as you usually had a very stoic demeanor.

When Eivor first introduced you to her room, you tried to act as if it was completely new to you. However, by then you had experienced enough visions to know her room like the back of your hand. Eventually, she noticed that you already knew where everything was, and at her question you simply responded that you had already seen it, leading to this conversation.

“Yet I feel as if I know nothing at all.” Eivor turned her head to look at you. You both lay facing the ceiling, nothing but the soft wind and buzzing insects filling the settlement’s night air.

“What do you mean?” Softly, you sighed.

“I have served many rulers since I was a child. Each wanted to hide me away and keep my ability for themselves. Then we would be conquered, or I would be bartered away, and the next ruler would do the same.” You bit your bottom lip when you realized you might have been saying too much. However, Eivor reached out, thumb brushing over your cheek. It took everything in you not to look at her, instead sucking in a breath as she spoke.

“It’s okay to go on. I’m listening.” Such simple words. However, they were enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut as if they’d pained you. You nodded, continuing on.

“It’s mine, and yet…I have never used this power because I wanted to. I have never been allowed to see just for me.” Eivor was quiet, thumb rubbing the same spot on your cheek over and over. Finally, she murmured.

“What would you want to see?” What indeed? What would you want to know better than yourself? You thought for a moment, and then with a shaky inhale, you became acutely aware of how Eivor was looking at you.

As though if she had your sight, she’d use every ounce of her power just to understand you.

“I would want to see,” you whispered just loud enough for her to hear. She was touching you, and yet you looked up into her eyes regardless. Her eyes flashed in alarm, knowing what it meant to look you in the eyes now. However, you saw no vision this time, only faced with the endless storm of her eyes.

“The depth of this desire you have for me. Show me, Eivor…” You reached out to trace her temple just as you did that day, now focused on watching her gaze darken and cheeks tint a tasteful red. The effect you had on her was intoxicating, spurring you on to the point of no return.

“Just how much you’ve wanted me.”

_________________

It was all too familiar, yet enticingly foreign to you.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” Eivor murmured, voice gruff as she guided you to the bed. Changed, she already was handling you as if you were a delicacy, lips caressing the back of your hand. “For I have only desired to see your eyes fill with pleasure while focused on me.”

Her bluntness made your cheeks burn. She wanted you to have the reins of a situation where she would become so vulnerable? You didn’t think you were qualified, yet you tentatively nodded, sitting down on the bed with her.

Eivor knew she could easily push you down and bring pleasure to you regardless. From the sounds of it, even now she figured she would have to guide you to some extent, unsure if you knew what you wanted at all. However, after hearing about your past, and thinking about how she acquired you…

As you both sat on the bed and you frantically raked your brain over what to do, Eivor was mentally beating herself up. So far, she had acted no better than the rulers before her. She had killed your king, claimed you were hers, and then whisked you away after burning down your entire village. Sure–you had foreseen it all, and gladly let it happen–but regardless, your morally guided jarlskona felt horrible. Now, she was determined to make sure you felt as in control and safe as possible.

Glass, like glass. I will treat her as delicately as–Eivor snapped out of her thoughts as your eyes fixed onto her own. She was always keen on noticing when they did. Now they fluttered nervously up at her, and it was adorable. Rarely you expressed your emotions clearly like this, and Eivor savored it. Your trembling lips and flushed cheeks made her struggle just to stay still, letting you hesitantly lean in to whisper.

“Then um, could you…kiss me, Eivor? Please?” Certainly, she could.

You felt ridiculous to ask, but when you finally did you were met with a near immediate response. Her eyes twinkled, and she softly smiled, reaching out to cup your cheek within the palm of her hand.

"I can. Shut your eyes for me, love…" Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you complied. Eivor took her time to taste you, first gingerly pressing her lips against yours before parting them. She relished in every tiny noise you emitted, loving how you melted under her will. Her tranquil movements soothed you, letting you fall into her rhythm and she slowly fueled your arousal. She hummed against your lips as you grew confident enough to match her increasing passion, hands moving to gently hold fistfuls of your hair.

"Breathe through your nose," was her brief advice as she drew back, watching you gasp for air and heave with satisfaction. More forcefully than before, her lips captured yours once again. Steadily, she unraveled your nerves until you were filled with an urgent need. Her calm movements that had been perfect before suddenly weren't enough, and you were rendered desperate for more.

“Kiss me again Eivor, please...” Your pleading whisper was met with a soft chuckle before you drank from the sweetness of her lips. The greed you'd experienced before was here, though you wondered which one of you was plagued with it more. You wanted her lips to mark every bit of your skin, moaning as she moved to plant them down your neck and over your chest. Her hands intertwined with your own, pushing you back gently against the bed. She hovered over you as if to shield you from the rest of the world, blonde locks falling free from her braids like a curtain of sunlight above you.

“What else?” The teasing voice was the same, but it set a fire in the pit of your stomach more than any vision could. Eivor riddled your body with kisses as she waited for you to speak, sucking on your breasts to coax out a pretty moan.

“T-there. I need–Eivor–” You spoke the words once she got near your aching core. However, the vagueness of your demand wasn't missed, and Eivor thought she would give you a bit of trouble for your shyness. Just as in your vision, she danced around your wet folds, hot lips kissing the inside of your thighs. She teasingly grazed her teeth over your skin, softly biting and suckling the sensitive skin until you couldn't take it any longer. Loudly, you whined in frustration, and she laughed at your needy sounds, breath hot against your slick heat.

"What do you want? Use your words, love," Eivor playfully mocked, close enough that just the vibration of her voice left you in need, “how do you want me to take you?"

You bit your bottom lip, peering down at her between your legs. To say something so embarrassing… Her raised eyebrow told you she really wouldn’t make a move unless you complied, so with a heavy gulp you mustered up a timid response.

“With your mouth…please…" Your obedience was greatly rewarded, and you let out a silent gasp as her hot tongue flattened against your folds, dragging upward as she slowly took her first taste of you. You trembled, overcome with pleasure as she quickly fell into a rhythm of this repetitive motion, pushing deeper every time she stroked her tongue over your sodden heat. You squirmed, muffling mewls of pleasure. Eivor noticed your attempts to quiet your voice, frowning as she abruptly pulled away.

"I need you to be louder." She said matter-of-factly, gripping your waist and flipping you over. You squeaked as you were suddenly on your knees, face buried into the plush furs around you. Scarlet crept over your cheeks, neck, and even your shoulders as Eivor spread your legs apart. She exposed your glistening wetness to her without any room for imagination, hands firmly holding your thighs to keep you where she wanted. Her own cheeks were rosy as she stared, voice raspy with lust.

"I want everyone to know…that you belong to me." The words alone made your folds dampen, and when she brought herself back down, it was to devastate you. You were reduced to nothing more than a shivering mess of pleas, crumbling under her skillful movements. Eivor relished in all the delightful little sounds you made, proud as you grew more comfortable. She praised you through an offering of dizzying pleasure, relentless in her pursuit to ruin you.

“That’s it,” she groaned into your grinding hips, the tremors of her voice delicious against your twitching bud. Her lips wrapped around the sensitive pearl, sucking as she swirled her tongue over it. You quickly fell apart, gripping the sheets with echoing moans as your legs wobbled. Eivor held you steady, merciless as she continued to ravage you. Soon the burning of your core built up, and you cried out as you reached your peak, body overtaken with violent shudders. Eivor kept pleasuring you until you rode out your ecstasy, finally pulling away to let your legs give out.

You deflated immediately, softly trembling all over. On your side, you breathed deep, amazed with what had just occurred. Eivor hummed, loving the state you were in. At her angle, your wet, throbbing heat was still exposed to her, the shape of your ass and hips tempting. The bed dipped as your jarlskona placed her hand down before you face, leaning over you. The ends of her hair tickled your cheeks, and when you looked up, it was into eyes like the warm ocean blue.

“I will never get enough of you,” she murmured as she leaned down to kiss your temple, and it felt like blooming light over your skin. You shut your eyes, letting out a shaky exhale as her lips traced down the edge of your face, “is this also a power of yours? Your eyes alone drive me mad.”

She kissed the tender spot just under your ear, nibbling until you giggled. You lifted up your hand to trace her sharp jawline, thumb brushing over the scar on her cheek. She looked back at you, and in her steely gaze, you saw your fate.

Under the arch of flowers above you, Eivor held your hand. The sun was just beginning to set, orange and soft pinks making her beauty strikingly perfect. The entirety of Ravensthorpe was before you both, and the air was electric with anticipation. Dressed in all white, she held your face in the cups of her hands, the corner of her eyes crinkling and lips spreading into a wide smile.

“Little seer, did you foresee our paths coming to this? You have become my love, the sole source of my joy, and now…”

Tears swelled in the corners of your eyes, and you smiled up at Eivor, “Then have me as much as you desire, wolf kissed,” your voice a longing whisper, speaking the truth you knew would soon come to pass. “For I…was meant to become yours.”

“My wife.”

#eivor varinsdóttir #female eivor #female eivor x reader #f!eivor x reader #lady eivor #smut

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