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fictionalmenplz · 7 months

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Never In A Thousand Years

Summary: Camille's first night in Kattegat is spent in argument and stress, she's prepped for the wedding, Ivar and Camille are wed.

Warnings: stress, fluff

Sorry for the long wait, took me longer to finish up and this chapter is sort of long 👀

Chapter Three

I promised Ivar I would tell him what Margretthe had told me after the feast, he worried so much that he dragged me away early. I sat on the bed, watching him nervously as he stood in front of me.

"Now tell me. What did Margretthe tell you." His eyes glowed blue, bluer than I'd ever seen them. I shook my head, "Ivar when I tell you, you must know that I do not believe her!"

I pleaded for him to at least calm down or prepare to not be angry with me. He grunted, looked away and shook his head. "Just tell me woman." His tone was lighter, more begging than demanding.

I swallowed, my eye lids fluttering as I blinked and I took a deep breath. "She told me you were unable to have sex." I whispered, drawing my eyes away from his and staring down at my hands.

After I told him, he stomped into the dark room with the small cot inside. I did not see him when I woke up, I had not changed out of my dress when I fell asleep.

I looked down at the ruffled dress, cursing myself for sleeping in it. Because Ivar was gone, I assumed he wouldn't have a dress for me to wear so I put on one of mine from England.

The men from the boat had brought my chest to Ivar's home last night during the feast, I smiled to myself as I pulled out one of my red dresses. It was simpler than my others and I wouldn't mind if it got dirty.

It still had not registered in my brain the seriousness of my situation, my thoughts on being married to a violent man for the rest of my life were calm and I don't think I know how to react to it yet.

I had my hand on the door when I froze, remembering the only two people who knew my language were both individuals that I did not want to be near. Margretthe's message still confused me.

She seemed sort of happy that I was aware of it now, but I still do not believe it to be true. Ivar had called her a whore, it shocked me he would use such words for his brother's wife.

I know Ubbe respected me, he seemed sad that I would have to marry Ivar, "You're loss of innocence", is what my sister cried to me about. She valued her fair sister above all else and she made sure I knew that.

A knock on the door brought me away from my thoughts, and I was still standing next to the door when it sounded. I cracked the door, then opened it fully when I saw it was Lagertha and Torvi with a few other women. They gave me warm smiles and beckoned me out to follow them.

Again with the broken French, "Prepare... Wedding." Where the only real words Lagertha said, I smiled, my brows furrowed in confusion before I nodded my head, smiling.

I shut the door behind me, Lagertha pulled on my arm, holding me close next to her. I dreaded not knowing her language, I had a month to learn or at least try but I insisted it would be fine. As if a language barrier wouldn't cause any problems.

I kept my eyes down as we walked through the muddied town, various townspeople staring openly as the shield maidens escorted me. A few times I looked up, only to be met with the narrowed eyes of Vikings.

I had no idea what the standards were for a pagan wedding, no doubt much different than a Christian wedding. For example; a cross, a priest, anointing, and reciting prayers.

I dodged puddles of mud and followed the queen up the steps of a small home near the woods. The door creaked open and the translator was inside, a different one though.

Ragnar had brought this man to Paris with him, and this wanderer explained that he was neutral. Now that this odd looking man was back in Kattegat, he was being put back into use by translating.

I took a seat in front of his and the shield maidens remained outside except for Lagertha. There were a few other women entering the room from a separate room. They had red paint on their faces and black chalk surrounding their eyes.

One woman was holding a dress, pure white with a halo of twigs and flowers placed on top of it. Lagertha said something, gesturing to the dress and then looking at the translator. I looked at him expectantly.

"They are going to clean and dress you now." He said and I stood up, the queen guiding me to a room. The room had a metal tub off to the side and steam slowly rose to the ceiling. I looked around awkwardly as they waited for me to remove my dress and shoes.

The only two women that have ever bathed me were my mother and my old maid who I made stop when I turned fifteen so you can imagine my surprise when the painted women went to work scrubbing me completely.

I finally pushed them away when they insisted on rag drying my entire body and did it myself in private thanks to a curtain. The dress was slid onto me and they stitched the parts that were too loose.

I had no garments underneath which I thought was completely absurd, the feeling of being completely naked under a dress did not make me feel comfortable to say the least.

They sat me on a stool and stood around me with bowls or string and began putting my hair in braids, drawing runes in a line from my bottom lip to my chin. My brown hair was strung up in several intricate designs and knots.

They smudged black around my eyes just like theirs and then took to my hands and removed all dirt from under my nails that might have accumulated. I was surprised with how gentle they were being with me, they all had strong stern features and sharp noses.

All very beautiful, nothing at all like the screaming shield maidens I saw at my home gate covered in my peoples blood. Once they finished my appearance they took a clear fluid from a bowl and touched my neck, wrists and some parts of my legs with a few drops of it.

It smelled amazing, almost like a perfume but it was applied similarly to how a person is anointed. "What is that?" I asked, looking at them all and pointing at the bowl then they all looked at the translator. "A scent?" He replied with a shrug.

After an hour of what seemed like endless translating of rules of a North wedding, I was allowed some alone time in the bedroom of this random house they brought me to.

I looked around, eyeing the bed that was begging me to take a nap but instead going to the mirror. I didn't look bad, I never thought braids would look so good on me.

My mind finally drifted to my future husband, dear Ivar. His strange temper and irritable mood swings made me just want to die. Knowing that I'm about to swear my life over to a man, who probably lacks the proper qualities to bear children, and has the worst anger issues ever is just great.

Ivar wasn't even the slightest bit ugly, which made it harder for me to swallow the fact that he was insane.

I clenched the shield in my hands, huffing at the weight but keeping my eyes on the shield maidens circling me and the clamor in the great hall coming from the townsfolk who supported this merge of kingdoms.

There was music that could barely be heard over the cheering, it was ethereal, enchanting, and echoed in the long room. My breathing was ragged and I was struggling to keep my feet planted and not run out of here.

I lowered the shield, holding it in front of me and the group of shield maidens slowly parted and one handed a shield to the violent man approaching me. My mind was racing, trying to remember whatever Lagertha had told me via translator.

Ivar stood directly in front of me now, looking down at me with the most dangerous expression I'd ever seen him give me. Though it wasn't quite a look of anger, more like want or neediness.

A metal sword was put in my hands and the shield was taken, and Ivar had his own sword too now. I held the sword up, facing it with his and a man covered in white and black paint on his face sprayed blood onto our faces.

We made promises, recited old Norse and I thanked God for helping me remember the words, and then he took our swords and the next thing I knew Ivar was kissing me.

The hands on my hips and his nose brushing against mine sent my senses into overload and my eyes closed in a panic and my mind jumbled, immediately forgetting the next steps.

But did I really need to follow a guide when he was kissing me? My hands shook as I placed them on either side of his face, the scruff of his short facial hair scratching at my hands and my lips involuntarily danced back with his.

He picked me up, carefully spinning me as our lips were interlocked. When my feet hit the ground and he pulled his head away from mine, I moved closer, not wanting to break the kiss but chose to pull away shortly after.

He held me next to him, one hand on my waist against his and the people all cheered, I watched his face. Focused and narrowed, glancing down at me and then looking away, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. The sudden reminder of how kissing Ivar felt made me tense up, a blush heating my cheeks and a twinge hit my stomach.

The feast was huge, many options of food and drink were displayed everywhere in the long room but I resisted the urge to pile them all on my plate. I was lucky the women who had prepared me gave me food, I was sitting in that stool for hours.

I sat next to Ivar at the head of the table in the long room and we were immediately draped with the pelt of a bear and he shifted closer to me, his shoulder pressing comfortably into mine and his brothers Ubbe and Hvitserk sat next to us.

They're glowing eyes watching me as their lips moved incoherently to Ivar who seemed undeniably bothered by what they were saying. He sighed and turned his head to me, "Are you ready to leave?" He whispered close to my ear.

Hvitserk narrowed his eyebrows and scoffed, looking over his shoulder and I nodded my head. Ivar shoved the pelt away, grabbing his crutch that he hasn't used for the whole ceremony, and then held my waist as we walked out of the long room followed by whoops and cheers.

We stepped off the short stairs of the long room and we were immediately met with the sharp and chilly air of Kattegat. His hand swiftly raised around my shoulders and held me tighter against him.

I placed one arm around his torso, holding onto him with one hand and lifting my dress with the other to prevent it getting any dirtier. I glanced up at my now husband, a look of wonder resting on my face due to how neutral he was being.

He seemed upset but not at me, perhaps it has something to do with what his brothers were saying. I can imagine the stress of overbearing siblings, Gisla was not always so loving and caring.

When I was younger it was all about teaching me to be a princess, and I understand that but she put me through so much. I think it was because our mother was gone and no one was responsible enough to really raise me as a daughter of a king.

She was too hard on herself and I regret not letting her know how much I appreciate her sacrifices before I had been shipped away. I don't expect her to be angry with our father forever, she loves him and will learn that I am just as fine and responsible as she is.

But brothers seem much different than sisters, thankfully I only have a brother-in-law and he was kind enough, but the sons of Ragnar, the ones who always got the most blood on their faces in battle, they must be hard on Ivar.

Because Ubbe is Margretthe's husband I wonder if he knew that Ivar could supposedly "not bear children", and if he did, did he even care enough to protect his youngest brother's reputation?

Ivar opened the door for me and I brushed past him into our home. He shut the door and walked past me, removing his pelt coat and then he was about to shuffle into the smaller room, muttering a goodnight but I quickly stopped him.

"Wait," I started, my hand on his shoulder. He turned his head, eyebrows raised in question. "Why do you sleep in there?" I asked, my tone was soft and he could tell I was being genuine.

His eyelids fluttered and he looked away, "Tell me, Ivar. " I said, wanting him to look at me as I put my hand on the side of his face to make him face me. "You are disgusted by me," he said, dipping his head down, "I do not wish to make you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed as you."

"Ivar." I said incredulously, now putting both of my hands on either side of his face. "I am not one bit disgusted by you," I looked into his eyes, "What I said last night, I did not mean it."

His expression softened and I felt the skin on his face warm, "Really?" He whispered and I shook my head. "I was upset it was not right of-" my sentence was muffled by his chest as he wrapped his arms around me, poking his head into the crook of my neck.

#ivar x reader #vikings #pagan #ivar lothbrok #ivar smut #ivar #northmen #arranged marriage #wedding #smut #you dirty dog

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