#queen of kattegat

[princessoftherus]

𝓧𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓪 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓥𝓲𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓡𝓾𝓼 & 𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓠𝓾𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓚𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓰𝓪𝓽

Xenia Lothbrok formerly Rurikovich better known as Xenia of Novgorod and called among her people the Viking Princess is the princess of Kievan Rus, daughter of the late King Rurik, Igor's older sister and niece of Prince Oleg, Dir and Askold. Always protected and guarded, Xenia grew up lovingly among her family, raised in the belief in the Norse gods and raised as a proud Viking woman, to which her people belonged before converting to Christians, still firmly maintaining her faith today, like her father once, who was a convinced Viking, warrior and king and still today refuses to follow the Christian faith, which she sees as a threat. As the only child of her parents, Xenia had a strong will from an early age, knowing how to use it to make others follow her will and to captivate them with her charm. In addition, she showed early on what she wanted to fight for by taking a great interest in the battles, travels and plans of her father, who included her in their plans from an early age and relied on Xenia's intelligence and acumen, which made men passionate and skillful supported, which is why he took them and their uncles with him into battles, on the sea and on raids. After the birth of her brother and the death of her mother, she took over her mother's upbringing, grieving but outwardly appearing strong and determined. Shortly before her father's death, he appointed Oleg, his brother-in-law and closest confidant, as regent and leader of the Rus and entrusted him with the care of his children. Due to the dispute between Oleg and his brothers, both siblings were separated, which is why Xenia initially grew up alone under Oleg's supervision and was considered Oleg's little darling in Kiev for a long time, who was a substitute father for the princess, taught her a lot and was the only person that Oleg really loved. Since Oleg's hunger for power and his madness encourage him to own the country for himself, Xenia once again loses part of her family and is on her own. This is now considered to be treated with caution, not to be underestimated, as combative, respected by the people as a strong, direct and honest young woman who is beginning to make her own alliances among the Rus and knows how the game is played and is the only one who always defies Oleg, who now sees her as a danger. While time and losses have shaped her and coldness and harshness characterize the princess, who seems aloof and doesn't let anyone get close to her, which often makes her appear arrogant. However, behind this mask in order not to appear vulnerable is her mother's gentle nature, great sensitivity, a feeling for others and wanting to help them, her good-natured heart that burns for those she loves and is loyal to them and Igor is similar is than everyone else assumes. When Igor also falls into Oleg's hands and Xenia gets to know Ivar the Boneless, she reveals herself to him, who becomes her only confidant and she also builds a close bond and supports him in his plans to overthrow Oleg and take Igor away from Kiev. After this success, the rest of the small family is united and the Rus are stronger than before. Despite the admiration of her people and her role as an advisor to Dir and Igor, she always feels alone, doesn't belong and is sure that her fate lies somewhere else. Far away from their home, the two men and the Christians. Now she lives in Kattegat with her beloved husband King Ivar, at his side and as the new Queen of Kattegat and mother of Cailan Ivain, Vidar Ragnar and Edda Aslaug. ⸻ Vikings.

#vikings #wire auf Anfrage. #novelist #princess of the rus #norse paganism #userfakevz #queen of kattegat

[inthegloomglow]

I just realized a lot of the mess with House of The Dragon is reminding me of that plot in Vikings where they had Lagertha kill Aslaug for literally no reason, (she made peace with her like a decade prior, blamed Ragnar for cheating, etc), and also had Lagertha dismiss the idea of Ragnar’s sons with her mattering because “they’re born of a witch” even though the show did not treat völva this way, and it was a weird US Salem Witch Trials mentality to shove in. 

And how I was supposed to then root for Lagertha and Bjorn against Ivar, when the whole mess started with Lagertha killing Ivar’s mother in cold blood. It always effected my ability to feel what the show wanted. I could not BELIEVE Ubbe sided with Lagertha either. Ivar had every right to want her dead. 

#house of the dragon #hotd critical #vikings #anti lagertha #i'm not even just this plot character assassinated her #ivar the boneless #but people ate it up because they hated aslaug #who deserved better for the record #vikings critical #anti Ryan Condal #anti sara hess #also aslaug was not unfit to be queen #kattegat prospered when she ruled #honestly i had grown to like lagertha again by the end of her life #but when hvitserk killed her i was just 'FINALLY ONE OF ASLAUG'S SONS KILLED HER' #aslaug was one of the few people to unconditionally love ivar #OF COURSE HE WANTED HER DEAD #HE WAS RIGHT! IVAR WAS RIGHT TO DEMAND HER DEATH! #WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #also they may have had a problem with volva i'm not sure #i got the impression that was NOT the case #but i could be wrong

[northernxstories]

Author: @northernxstories

Artist: @mrgabel

AO3 Link: HERE

Summary: In this Alternate Universe, women lead and men serve. Thyri Siggasdóttir took on the mantle of the throne in the wake of the passing of her mother, the beloved Queen Siggy. With her advisor and friend, Gyda Lagerthasdóttir, at her side, she is in the process of raising Kattegat from humble village to a key port of trade. Queen Thyri sends Gyda and her family on a journey along the Silk Road to form a permanent trade alliance. There Gyda has to deal with the mad Queen Kwenthrith and the conniving Queen Judith and fulfill the task assigned to her. Will she manage to cut with tongues instead of blades, prevent a war and secure Kattegat’s future? Or has the Queen of Kattegat asked too much?

For those who prefer not to read their fic on AO3, please find the fic under the readmore.

The Queen of Kattegat

The Queen’s Command

It was a blood laced dawn - the sky dipped in red. It poured over the water and the land like a throat wound in the midst of battle. She watched it rise at the edge of the world - Freya’s gift to her children, another day of life. Her back straightened as she leapt from the edge of the dock and into the cool water. It was ice on her skin, the initial shock of it stilling her limbs before surging forward. She breached the surface with a gasp and was about to head back to the shore when a pair of splashes indicated she had company. Warm hands reached for her. 

“I would have thought you still abed given our night.” 

Thyri tossed back her dark hair with a warm laugh. It was true that she did not often have both of her husbands at home to please her and as such their night before had been rather energetic. A soft kiss was applied to her shoulder, the heat of Bjorn’s mouth almost searing compared to the water. She called him her warrior but in fact, Bjorn was her explorer. The world was full of fascinations for a man like him. It aided their marriage that she only required her husband’s sexual fealty at home. Once they crossed the sea, they could do as they pleased, as could she. 

Her youngest daughter had been born from one such dalliance, although Athelstan had been pleased to lay claim to the mantle of father upon his return from some scholarly excursion to the great Paris court, where she had just traded a fine warrior named Rollo, uncle to her Bjorn, to a young queen named Gisla. They did not yet speak the same language but Rollo would learn or be confined to bedroom activities only. She wished Gisla luck with the man, who Thyri found pretty enough but lacking the sort of manners she preferred in her own court. 

Thyri sighed in pleasure as Athelstan, unwilling to be outdone by the younger man, began to apply his own series of kisses, hands warm and wandering on her chilled flesh. “If we are to play,” she scolded, although the laughter threading her words took away any genuine sense of displeasure, “then one of you must wash my hair.” 

Of course Bjorn took the words as literally as always. He broke away from their entwined bodies, still treading in the icy water, and reached up a long limb to hook over the edge of the dock. He hauled himself up and reached for the small bundle of cleaning products she preferred. She could have ordered heated water to their chambers. However, she was a Norsewoman and a Queen. As long as she could bathe in the waters, she would do so. 

By the time they returned inside, even they, with their hot Norse blood, were shaking from the chill. With the assistance of her thrall, she prepared for the day. Her hair was braided into rich coils that were sewn up and dotted with jewels. Her gown, heavy fabric richly embroidered, was tied around her slender frame. It surprised her still, in the fifteenth year of her rule, that she could still feel the strength in herself, in this body that had born six children, four of which still lived. Strong daughters to carry their mother’s name and their fathers’ strength into the world.

The Great Hall was lively with laughter and conversation as the heavy doors separating her personal apartment from the public rooms were tugged open by a pair of guards. The Saxons had a tradition of adorning their household staff and she had done the same, liking the distinction of it. It set her apart from the other Norse queens who ruled up and down the coast. The room fell silent as she stepped through the doors, with her husbands at her side. It was rare enough to be a striking image. The children hurried toward them seeking cuddles and comfort from the men who were often away from home. Thyri brushed a kiss over their fair heads and snuggled their sweet smelling baby cheeks before continuing onward. The woman she had sought an audience with was already here.

“Gyda Lagerthasdottir. I am pleased to see you on this fine day.”

Gyda laughed, her smile bright and welcoming as always. “Only you could call such a cold day fine. The winter’s bite is hard enough to break the skin. It won’t be long before the water is thick with ice and we are all trapped in close quarters.” 

“While I know your words to be true, my thoughts do not linger on the winter ahead. We are blessed this year. Our stores are plentiful and as long as Freya continues to bless us, the spring will arrive soon enough. And it is that arrival I wish to discuss with you this morn.” Thyri responded. Her eyes were serious although a smile played over her lips as she spoke. 

“I confess you caught my curiosity. What will the spring bring us all?”

“An adventure.” Thyri retorted, eyes sparkling with mischief as she spoke.

Gyda’s responding laugh was merry, “Are you quite sure you are speaking to the correct sibling? It is my brother who longs for new sights in his vision and new lands under his feet.” 

The Queen waved a hand toward a table, where a thrall had laid out the morning meal so they could break bread and speak further. Gyda followed the Queen to whom she had pledged her life as a girl of thirteen and never had cause to waver in her loyalty, even when after losing one husband, Thyri claimed Gyda’s brother as his replacement. When the Queen was busy and her brother away, Gyda often had care of the children she called her nieces, teaching them about the land and how to lead a family, lessons taught best in the doing rather than the explaining. 

Gyda waited until Thyri was served before taking her own food. Thyri could see the curiosity on her friend’s face and felt a rush of gratitude for her. She was without parallel - the finest of her ladies in her Queendom. “Well, it is time for Kattegat and our Queendom to take its place in the line of trade. We have much to offer the world and clever people to offer it.”

“Indeed, we are already a presence. As evidenced by your connections to the Norman Queen, Gisla, and the Wessex Queen, Judith.” Gyda replied, proud as always of her people and especially her Queen.

Thyri refrained from pinching her lips together in disapproval. She had a great deal of respect for Queen Gisla but Queen Judith was another matter. It was a relief that Athelstan had only blessed the other Queen with a son. If it had been a daughter, Thyri was uncertain as to whether she could contain her envy. While she prided herself on her lack of petty jealousies, there was something about Judith that made her want to pinch and scratch and claw in a primal sort of rage. They had met often enough that Thyri knew she found the woman intolerable. 

“Indeed.” Thyri responded, trying hard to keep the ice from her voice, “But I want more. I want you to travel the Silk Road.”

Her friend gasped, “Are you quite certain?”

She nodded as she responded, “In particular, I wish for you to travel to the City known as Constantinople. Several Queens will be journeying at the same time. Arrangements have been made for you to travel with Judith of Wessex and Kwenthrith of Mercia. Not on the same ship of course but we are building a fleet. In exchange for several concessions, there will be ships for each. You will be my emissary. To speak for me in this great city, to speak for our people.”

“I…I do not know what to say.” Gyda replied. 

“You have the winter to prepare, time enough I think to set your affairs and arrange care of your farm, since I assume both of your husbands and your daughters will accompany you. Your son may remain in my household, if you wish.” Thyri continued as if Gyda had not spoken. It was not truly a request. It was an order, nicely stated, but an order nonetheless. 

“Why … why would I be going instead of you, my Queen?” her lady stammered out, clearly apprehensive of the request being made. Gyda had travelled only short distances - Paris, Mercia and neighbouring Queendoms. This journey would be like no other and require unexpected sacrifice.

Thyri smiled, “My husbands are far too effective at their task and about the time this journey will depart, I will be nursing yet another daughter or perhaps my first son, a joy for any mother I am sure. Besides, if I spent that long with Queen Judith, I would drown her and spark a war with Wessex that we can ill afford. We are on the cusp of peace, the raids giving way to trade, although Rus shall still have frequent enough taste of our blades. Their Queens continue to be obstinate about striking a peace with us. We hone our warriors for protection and our Shieldmaidens lead our armies most effectively. Bjorn sings their praises.”

“That sounds like my brother.”

The laughter erupted from the women, causing others in the Great Hall to glance over and admire the stunning beauty of two lovely women speaking with such merriment, having no idea what grand adventure their Queen and her Lady were discussing. 

“Your brother enjoys much of the company of the shieldmaidens for many reasons other than their prowess in battle. Still, he enjoys an adventure. He will be joining you on this one, if you wish it. I know that Athelstan has taught your Halfdan to read the maps and he and Bjorn enjoy these adventures together.”

“And Harald?”

“The remainder of the complement to join you would be yours to decide. You should have over a dozen ships to fill if my boatbuilders have told me true.” Thyri replied, her eyes fixed on Gyda, willing her to agree. There was no one else she would trust to lead this journey. 

“As if they would tell you falsehoods. Freya herself would strike them down if they were so foolish.” Gyda replied carefully, a small smile playing over her lips. “Ah Thyri. This idea is a bit thrilling but still I must think. I ask for only a little time, to turn this over in my mind and settle on it.”

Thyri sighed and set down her cup, “I am of two minds. First is the impulse to shake you and oblige you to say yes. And yet, your sense to think and consider is precisely why you are the only one I would consider for this task. You are a worthy emissary, Gyda, and the only one I can trust. You have the balance within and Freya’s wisdom in your heart. If you can manage that wild and ambitious Harald of yours and yet guard Halfdan’s gentle heart and raise babes with those two men and run your farm at once, well there is no doubt that irascible Saxon queens and a conference of women from parts of the world we have never seen, may never see in our lifetime or the next, will be a challenge you can meet.” 

“That is a compliment and a burden all at once.” Gyda retorted sharply and took another bite of her morning meal. Thyri just laughed and continued to eat as well. She knew what Gyda’s decision would be. As Lagertha’s daughter, Gyda was unable to resist an adventure but her practical heart would make sure that each step taken in advance of that adventure would aid in its intended success. 

“Well it is almost time for the council, and today the dispute about the northern shore is to be argued.” 

“A difficult one, no doubt. I wish you Freya’s wisdom today.” Gyda replied as she finished her meal and rose from her seat as Thyri did. Today’s discussion was over but there would be many more over the long winter to come.

A Decision Made

Gyda tugged the cloak around her slender frame and kept her head down as the wind buffeted through the narrow path cut between the buildings. She briefly debated going to the Great Hall but instead she found her feet guiding her toward home. Snow tumbled over the paths despite the efforts to clear it, forcing Gyda to trudge through the mass until she was at last able to push open the door. A rush of warmth greeted her, followed by a thin wail, a protest against the dash of cold. 

“I have him, m’lady,” the nursemaid stated before Gyda could even reach for her youngest. The typically cheerful boy had just found his ability to walk but still needed his afternoon rest in order to maintain any sort of good spirits.

“Thank you,” Gyda replied as she looked around at the gathering rooms at the front of the longhouse that made up their home, “Where are my husbands?” 

Before the thrall could speak, another voice joined the room, cradling their eldest child against him, dozy and cradling her doll. “Well one of them is right here.” 

Gyda’s smile was broad. She’d deny it of course, if ever asked, but as much as she loved Harald, Halfdan remained her favourite. She met him first. He was a friend of Bjorn’s, who was the first man she had met that rivalled her brother’s passion for exploration. A warrior when he needed to be, Halfdan had the gentle heart of a poet. She had always been particular about her lovers, refusing many who sought entry to her bed. Many of them were gruff, rude, liars, or painful fools who thought their prowess in a raid meant she would be inspired enough to elevate them to the status of husband. 

They were all fools.

Halfdan was no fool. He was her friend long before he was her lover and even longer before she asked him and his brother, Harald, to commit to her for eternity, in this life and in Valhalla, where they would stand before the Gods and all the warriors who had gone before. Harald often drove her to madness but still she loved him. Halfdan was her respite. 

She crossed the floor to greet him and their daughter. Running her hand over young Lagertha’s fair head, she leaned in to dust a kiss over Halfdan’s lips. “Hello, my love.” she whispered quietly.

“Does this mean you’ve decided?”

Gyda sighed and stepped back as Halfdan set down their daughter and she toddled over to play by the fire with her soft toys. “Halfdan.”

“If we are going, we need to prepare.”

It was an old argument, one the man had repeated many times. Harald was advocating to stay behind, to use the absence of the Queens of Mercia and Wessex to attack the settlements. Harald was ambitious but not in the same manner as Queen Thyri. Harald saw Gyda on a throne, which had never been her desire. However, persuading her husband was another matter.

“Halfdan.” she whispered, leaning in to touch her cheek to his shoulder, occupying the place so recently held by their daughter. His arms circled her waist and held her close. “If we go…we may not return.”

His lips dusted her forehead and he chuckled, soft and warm, “We will be travelling with three of your brothers and just one of mine, two bloodthirsty queens, one of whom is madness itself and the other as cold as winter.”

“Is that intended to inspire me?”

Halfdan’s grin broadened as their eyes clashed, “It is our fate, Gyda.”

“Now you sound like my mother.”

“Lagertha was a mighty shieldmaiden and the right hand of the Queen until the day she died. She conquered lands, saved our people time and time again. There is a reason our daughter is named for her.”

“And?”

“And she believed in our fate as do I. As should you. Do you not believe in us? We could show our daughters a world unlike any we have seen before?”

Gyda growled and pushed back and away from her husband. She crossed the floor and waited as Halfdan poured them each a goblet of mead. She took a sip and let out a soft sigh, “And the boy?”

“Would be safe in the house of his many cousins, with our Queen, being spoiled by being surrounded by even more women than he has at home. This is an excuse and you well know it. He would be well. Our daughters would travel with us.”

“It’s dangerous.”

Before Halfdan could reply, another voice joined the conversation. Harald stepped through the door and snapped it closed behind him. They were greeted by the rush of cold air that sent a shiver down Gyda’s spine. The elder of her husbands tugged off his jacket and hung it by the door. His boots followed, lined up neatly next to the fire.

“We were talking about…” Halfdan started

“I know.” Harald replied crisply and Gyda sighed internally. Her verbose husband was being curt. An argument was blooming and frankly she was not in the mood for it.

Gyda tossed up a hand, defeated at last, “I think we all know we’re going. I’m just…unhappy at the prospect. I fear what the fates have in store for us. We are content. Our children are well. Our lives are peaceful. Why must we face such upheaval once again?”

Harald laughed as Halfdan crossed the floor. She set down her glass in anticipation of the embrace to come and she wasn’t wrong. He tugged her into a warm hug, spun her around and straight into the arms of Harald. Soft kisses dusted over the curve of her face and she sighed, satiated by their presence. These men, she thought with a soft laugh. 

“It is this practical nature of yours, our beloved wife, that makes you the best choice to be our Queen’s emissary.” Harald assured her, soft kisses meeting the hollow of her throat. 

It would have become more, as it so often did, but the children rarely allowed such things when they were awake. “Father!” Their little boy squealed, running for Harald. The man released her to bend low enough to capture the scrambling child and lift him high in the air, feigning as though he would drop him before catching him again. Giggles filled the space as Halfdan knelt by their eldest daughter. The middle child, another daughter named Ragna, was playing at the Great Hall with her cousins. 

Gyda smiled at the thrall and murmured, “Would you please fetch Ragna? We shall have a family meal tonight, yes? We have a great deal to plan before we go on our adventure.”

“Yes m’lady. If it pleases you, I’d like to remain here with the boy but my son, he is trained in the care of children and he is old enough now to travel with the daughters.” the slave replied.

“A good idea. We can discuss this more later.” Gyda replied with a graceful nod. A respectful bow followed before the woman scurried away to dress for the weather and then collect Ragna from the Queen’s residence.

That night, her head on Harald’s chest as Halfdan’s cheek rested on her own, Gyda continued to worry. “What if…”

“Trust.” Harald assured her.

“In the fates? I’m not sure I can.” 

“No, in your husbands. In your Queen. None of us will ever let you down, my love. I swear it.”

“Now that I can trust.” Gyda assured the men. 

Tender Leavetaking

The ice broke early that year. Deep cracks formed as the sun rose brighter each day. Helga and her pair of husbands, both tinged in madness, ensured the boats hit the water as soon as it was passable. The Queen of Kattegat had a fleet worthy of her name, worthy of the Gods themselves. The ground was soaked with the blood of the sacrifices given in prayer for the safety and prosperity of the journey ahead. Thyri’s slippers were stained with those prayers. 

She swayed with the movement, her belly still round with the arrival who had yet to come. She knew some of Bjorn’s prayers were that he would return to Thyri and a sweet new infant to hold - another daughter to dote upon or perhaps their first son to grow strong enough to wield a sword or find his spirit on foreign shores. Thyri laughed at herself, bemused by her fanciful notions. She always became more of a dreamer when carrying. 

Pushing open the door to their private quarters, she watched as Athelstan rose from his prayers, his expression at once perfectly serene and yet sheepish at being caught. Thyri was not and had never been inspired to move her good Christian from his devout ways, as long as that devotion was directed to her and their children as well. A gentle touch to the back of his head, where the soft curls wove between her fingers. A kiss warmed his brow but that was as far as she could bend. 

He laughed gently as she swayed, using his leverage to keep her steady as he stood as well. His lips found hers, a gentle caress from her most gentle man. He could fight but only when pressed to do so. However, he taught their daughters clever things, things even Thyri did not know, such as reading and painting the illuminated manuscripts that recorded the tales of her people - the ancient sagas. 

“Are the ships ready?” Athelstan asked, his voice soft as his arms wrapped around her, swaying back and forth as if in tune to music only he could hear. The sweet sounds of his faith, perhaps, Thyri mused fancifully. 

“Yes, they will leave with the dawn’s tide, with the blessing of the gods.”

“And mine.” 

She smiled, her cheek touching his and drawing from him the strength that she had come to rely upon. “Will you be sorry not to join Bjorn? To see foreign shores?”

His hand traced over her back as the other curled over her abdomen. “There is a reason Goddess has blessed each good woman with two husbands.” It was an old refrain, one that never failed to make Thyri smile.

“One to stay.” she whispered.

His eyes met hers and he nodded, “Always. And I hope Bjorn will return to us soon. Because I love him.” 

“I know. As do I.” Thyri confirmed with a nod as she traced her fingertips through Athelstan’s curls. In the beginning, she had wed another, who had died an honourable death in battle and found his way to Valhalla’s doors. Bjorn was old enough by then to wed, much to Athelstan’s relief. They got along better, coming to care for one another, the way husbands ought to when they shared a woman and children. Bjorn was as tolerant as Thyri of their good Christian and his beliefs, protecting him from those who might not be so understanding.

The door clattered open and, as if conjuring him from their dreams, Bjorn stepped through. Broad shouldered and towering over both of them, he approached in a cascade of noise - like a wave washing over them. The man was large, taking up so much everywhere he went, as if he couldn’t help but consume all of the space around himself. He shrugged out of his fur, tossing it onto a low chair before reaching for them. 

“I am going to miss you.” Thyri whispered, unable to maintain the coolness of her reserve, her voice broke. Bjorn’s arm tightened around her just as Athelstan did the same. 

“The Fates will make sure we see one another again. It is our destiny.”  Bjorn assured her, his forehead brushing against hers, “And if not our Fates, perhaps our Athelstan’s Goddess.”

Underway

His arm was a weight over her shoulders, holding her spirit in place as the rage boiled under her skin. “Shhh…my love.” Halfdan murmured as Harald settled their eldest daughter near the prow of the ship so she would be out of the way and yet still able to see the open water. Gyda tracked his movements with a suspicious eye. 

“He did not go with her.” 

“She had her hands all over him.” Gyda snapped in reply and then regretted her words. After all, Halfdan had done nothing to attract the attentions of the wild Wessex Queen. She was prickling at him because if she spoke to Harald at this moment, no gentle touch of her kind husband would satiate her boiling rage. 

The journey had just begun. They were scarcely a week into the long voyage that would take them to the great sea and their destination - the city of Constantinople, where the Queens of the North, East, South and West met to resolve trade between them. This time the Queens of Kattegat, Wessex and Mercia resolved to be among them. As Queen Thyri was unable to join the journey, Gyda was in her place. On behalf of her court was her eldest daughter, Asa, and her husband, Bjorn, who also happened to be one of Gyda’s beloved brothers. However, it was Gyda who spoke with the Queen’s authority. Asa was here to learn, as were her own daughters, Lagertha and Ragna.

Gyda turned her head to observe Bjorn seated, thick fur around his shoulders and his daughter, Asa, on his knee, buried in that plush comfort. She could not hear the words being spoken but knowing her brother as she did, she was confident that he was regaling his small daughter with wild tales of the sea and the people to be found in the far flung lands. Of course, they would all have tales after this journey. That was presuming that they survived it and of course, that Gyda did not spoil their attempted negotiations by slaying one of their allies along the way. A war would not further her Queen’s desires and Gyda knew she was selected for her calm and rational mind. However, Queen Kwenthrith was testing the limits of that patience. 

The last two nights, Gyda and the dozen ships which accompanied her vessel, had camped along the shores of Francia, shortly after being joined by the ships of their allies. Queen Judith was, as always, an elegant creature, her dark hair done up in a coil, her shipboard attire nearly flawless. It was as though her gown and cloak did not hold the mud that seemed to cling to everyone else. Queen Judith was not a favourite of her Queen Thyri, for obvious reasons. After all, Athelstan was deeply beloved by the woman and his first child was born to Queen Judith. Thyri did not demand fidelity from her husbands when they travelled abroad but there was something about Queen Judith that filled Thyri with a spiteful sort of jealousy. Gyda suspected that the two were simply too similar to ever be friends. 

Queen Kwenthrith, on the other hand, was a wild card. She could be brilliant but she was also unpredictable. Gyda did not know her well and her first impression on this particular journey was not positive. The first time she had noted the woman, Gyda had been conversing with her brothers, Ivar and Hvitserk, and Queen Judith as to the negotiating tactics they would use when dealing with the unknown Queens of the markets of Constantinople. Gyda, now that the journey was undertaken, was wildly curious as to where it would all lead. She had looked up just in time to see the Mercian Queen flirting with Harald. Her hand gliding over his chest and down to his hips. Gyda’s gaze narrowed and the anger bubbled within. 

Ivar had looked up from the maps spread out between them and he smirked at the coiling rage he spotted on his elder sister’s ordinarily pleasant face. “Ah I see we are family after all, Gyda. You should go remind him that you are his wife and he is to serve you.” It was all the right words but with Ivar’s mocking tone, it belied every syllable. 

“Do you think he needs reminding?” Gyda returned with an arch to her brow and a tip of her head, still trying to contain her boiling anger. Finally she set down her mug of mead but she hadn’t crossed the small clearing to speak to the Mercian Queen before she danced away. Apparently she had more sense than was initially evident. Harald however, only looked smug. The more Gyda glared at him, the greater his amusement seemed to be. 

That amusement faded when she turned from him in bed that night, curling around her daughters with Halfdan at her back. She did not deign to speak to him more than necessary as they boarded their ships to begin the next leg of long sea journey. Their holds were full of the food and mead needed to sustain them over the weeks ahead. Queen Judith had ten fine ships of her own but Queen Kwenthrith had only six, each overflowing with her warriors, who appeared to only be half the size of her Northmen warriors. At least in this, it appeared as though they grew giants in her lands, but Gyda was not fool enough to underestimate the Mercian Queen or her warriors. She wondered if the Queen understood how well her playtime with those warriors carried over the waters. Perhaps it was intentional - making everyone else listen as she screamed out her pleasure all hours of the day and night. 

Ivar shifted over, that familiar glint of madness in his eyes that always seemed to strike when he was about to speak an unwelcome truth. Gyda turned to look at him, “Why are you not with Amma?” It seemed this time she would strike first. Of course, as was common with Ivar, the blow glanced off him like he was composed of shields. 

His smirk broadened as he nodded, “She is enjoying our brother’s company at the moment.”

Gyda pinched her lips together and Halfdan shifted away, leaving her to speak with Ivar alone. “Why does she…” 

“Because she is mad. I should know.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You are not as mad as she is.”

“Perhaps not. But only because I had you.” Ivar responded quietly.

Gyda froze at that turn of phrase and glanced down at her brother, whose gaze was now fixed on the horizon. He didn’t often speak of the near constant pain that riddled him, the burdens of being unable to walk as other men did. Amma had taken him as a husband, liking his cleverness but what went on in the privacy of their home was unknown to Gyda. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder. “I have never regretted your arrival.” 

“You’d be the only one.”

“Well that is what the Saxons say.”

Ivar barked out a laugh, a rare enough sound in Gyda’s opinion. So much so that the others around them glanced over, puzzling as to the nature of their quiet conversation. “Why do I hate her so?”

“Because she has no husbands.” Ivar stated it as though it were a fact. Gyda froze, the words tumbling over in her mind. Ivar might be right. Even Judith was wed to two men, one of which was the father of the other. This was a little unusual among the Northmen but common enough they had found in Francia and among the Saxons. 

“Oh. I…” Gyda was stunned at the thought.

“How can you trust a woman that cannot earn and keep the loyalty of her husbands. None of her children have a claimed father. There is even a rumour that one of them is the son of our father, Ragnar, but no one but the Gods themselves would know the truth of it. Her word cannot be trusted. And it is for this reason you do not like her. You are an honest woman, Gyda, but sheath your blade, for now.”

“It is not often that you advocate for peace, Ivar.” Gyda retorted but the words were softened by the indecision that raged within.

“Perhaps I’m getting old.” 

“Considering you are young enough for me to have borne, I would appreciate it if you refrained from taking us both to an early grave.” Her words were laced with laughter. “Thank you for the good sense, Ivar. Now, what do you think of Queen Judith?”

“As long as it also serves her, she can be trusted. However, she is envious of our Queen and for this alone, we must tread lightly. She is the ice of late winter just before the thaw. She is treachery. Queen Kwenthrith’s madness is present for all to see.”

“And me?”

Ivar glanced up, “As clear as summer’s day. It is your flaw. Fortunately you have me.”

Gyda was laughing again but despite this humour, she knew that Ivar spoke the truth. As her giggles faded, she nodded, “I will go speak with my husband.”

“Ah, let him have the delight of your jealousy for a bit longer. Come, let me show you this game some of the Wessex warriors taught me. Chaturanga it is called. It is a game of strategy. I think of all my siblings, you might be the only one good enough to play with me.”

“Hvitserk might have something to say about that.”

Ivar shrugged as he shifted forward and further into the stern of the ship, “He is too busy attempting to make a child with our wife to care.”

Gyda was still laughing as Ivar was attempting to explain the game to her. 

Constantinople

It had been a dozen nights since their feet had touched land. In the north, the villages and cities that spread out along the coasts were accustomed to the sight of their great sails. In his father’s time, it filled the citizens of those communities with terror. However, Queen Thyri and the other Northmen Queendoms had brought peace and trade in recent years. There was still some terror but it was always sensible to be wary of a force so much stronger than one’s own. 

It became evident as they journeyed into the great sea leading them to their destination that they were a mystery to the people who lived along these shores. The shieldmaidens and the warriors that served under them longed to strike hard and fast, decimate and raid these cities filled to overflowing with goods they could steal and people they could enslave. Gyda stilled their ambitions with a sharp look and a few crisp words. So they passed, quiet and watchful, by these ports. Their eyes hovered on the prizes that lay so richly before them and yet, were denied. However, they were not here to raid. They were here to make peace. 

Bjorn longed to explore. Ordinarily he savoured these journeys away from home, taking lovers among the shieldmaidens and in the places they visited. However, this time, he was charged with a task beyond any other. He was originally to have several of Thyri’s daughters, the Princesses of Kattegat, in his company. However, in the course of the winter, it was decided that only their eldest, Asa, would go with him. She was to join her cousins, Gyda’s daughters, in this great undertaking. One day she might be tasked with such negotiations and therefore the learning was important. 

With a daughter to care for, Bjorn had put aside the playtime he usually engaged in during such journeys to ensure she understood all that lay before her. She had learned to read and illustrate from Athelstan and was making a point of marking the thick paper her other father had given her as they travelled. Bjorn remained awed by his clever daughter. 

“Come, wake up,” He whispered as he shook awake his daughter. She rose quickly, hands flying up to smooth away the strands of her bright hair from her small face. After she had relieved and groomed herself sufficiently, she walked toward him in the prow of the ship. He lifted her onto his shoulders, so that she could see above everyone else, the great port that lie ahead. On the shoreline, the people watched as the ships passed, their sails painted, the sides of the ships lined with their shields. The gods had blessed their journey. Only two ships had been lost in the great journey, one of which was due to the Wessex Queen having a serious flaw in the hull. It sank off the coast, leaving a ship’s complement on the shore, and having to return to her northern Queendom in whatever way they could. The other was lost in a wicked storm, sinking one of their ships in the night, and Bjorn could only pray that the warriors aboard found their way to Valhalla where the Goddess Freya would hold them in her hand. 

“Papa.” Asa whispered, distracting him from his thoughts. Her voice was laced in awe and Bjorn did not have it within him to disagree with her. On the land was a trio of creatures unlike any he had seen before. The colour of ash, they rose to the size of a longhouse and perhaps above in height. On each side of its head were two great flaps like the sails of a ship. Four great legs, stout like a barrel, allowed it to move about but on its face was another appendage, which the creature was using to follow the commands of the man who appeared to be handling it. The creature’s long appendage was flexible like a tail of a cat but more useful. The creature was carrying long pieces of wood and then stacking them quite neatly onto a flat sort of boat. 

“I see it. We will ask what they are called.” Bjorn assured his daughter. 

Kattegat was not so isolated as to be unaware of the variety of shapes and sizes of people. They had seen the people whose skin bore the gentle touch of dark night to those whose hair was as deep in tone as a raven’s wing and whose eyes took on a different shape. But to see so many people, together, each as different as any other could be, was fascinating to Bjorn. It seemed Asa was of a similar mind. 

A camp was permitted outside the City, although Bjorn had yet to discern precisely whose authority the community operated under. For a few silver pieces, they were able to secure some guidance around the community, which towered over Paris in both size and population. The buildings towered over them, the paths laid out in thick stone and the markets were lively. They were introduced to the Baths with some gesture that indicated to Bjorn that they were being begged to make use of them. He certainly had no objection. All the Norsemen were pleased to do so. Those from Wessex and Mercia were less inclined but not wanting to look the fool in front of the others, they went alone. Bjorn sent off his daughter with his nieces and let himself savour the experience. He wished Athelstan was here to see it. 

~

Gyda felt more herself with her skin clean and braids rewoven with gold thread. Thyri had provided additional jewels for her to wear, to impress these Queens, but as she looked about Constantinople, she knew her burnish was dim in comparison. She saw women with golden bands wrapped, one after the other around their throats until their necks seemed impossibly slender and long. Others wore gowns in colours Gyda had never seen before or so heavy with jewels that it seemed impossible that they could move. Gyda was pleased to change out of the breaches and tunics she had favoured over the sea journey. The gown spilled over her limbs, the light fabric cool in the heat of day. There appeared to be no particular rules regarding attire in the City. Some wore skirts or breeches so short they bared the whole of their legs. Others had gowns or tunics that dipped forward baring their shoulders and breasts. At least Kwenthrith would have a contender for her scandalous gowns, Gyda mused to herself.

Giggles echoed through the small foyer of the beautiful baths that were designed for the women of the community. As Amma took care of the payments, Helga and Torvi tried to gather the wandering children. Young Lagertha, Ragna and Asa danced around, making their skirts float as they spun. Helga was laughing as she tried to held her daughter, Angrboda, on her knee and wove braids into her silky hair. 

Gyda laughed at the scene but her humour faded as Queen Kwenthrith stepped into the room. Her gown was artfully embroidered and her dark hair was a silken waterfall, tumbling to her waist and shining in the sun. Gyda felt a spark of envy at the other woman’s sharp beauty. She could see the temptation the power offered to many. Her beauty made her an even more tempting prospect. 

“Hello little emissary,” Kwenthrith stated as her lips curled into a broad smile. She stepped close to Gyda. Too close, in her opinion, but she was unprepared to back down or step away for fear of appearing cowardly. “Are you quite sure that you are up for this task? The Council of Queens is to be feared and respected. You are a farmer.” Kwenthrith’s hand lifted, delicate fingers traced over Gyda’s cheek and Gyda had to resist the urge to slap it away like the touch was a bug crawling over her skin. 

“I will not apologise for knowing a hard day’s work or what it means to see the fruit of my labours.” Gyda returned, trying to keep the snap from her words but it was impossible. Kwenthrith’s laughter was an icy trill but before Gyda could respond again, a small hand closed over hers. 

“Queen Judith says it is time.” Asa announced. As the Princess of Kattegat and one day, hopefully, its Queen, Asa would be attending the Council session with them. 

“After you, Kwenthrith.” Gyda stated as she gave her niece’s hand a gentle squeeze in appreciation for her well-timed intervention. 

“My pleasure.” The Mercian Queen replied with a light shrug as she turned away and left the entrance to the baths. The others trailed afterward with Amma turning at the last moment to smile encouragingly at Gyda. 

“May Freya grant you wisdom,” She then paused and shook her head in some amusement, “and patience.”

“I suspect I will need it.”

“Hvitserk always said you were his smartest sister.” 

Gyda’s laugh bubbled up, almost as refreshing as the bath, “I am his only sister.”

Even Asa was giggling as the three of them trailed after everyone. She was confident that the bath attendants were quite delighted to have much to tell the others in Constantinople about these strange arrivals. The others fell away as the two Queens and Gyda, the emissary of Kattegat, continued on their path toward the great palace at the heart of the City. The mounts they were offered were unlike any Gyda had seen before. They called the animal a camel and said that it was designed to travel long distances over vast deserts. Gyda had to wonder what such an expanse of land would look like. The camel swayed as it moved. It wasn’t precisely comfortable but once you settled into its movement, Gyda was unbothered. Kwenthrith looked delighted, clapping her hands together in amusement and claiming she needed a dozen of them for her Queendom. Gyda rather suspected these camels would not find her territory much appealing. Gyda glanced over at Judith and had to stifle a laugh. The rigid woman looked horrified by the shifts of the animal as it moved its long legs and shifted its enormous feet. 

Gyda turned her attention back to the City around her. Asa’s small arms were around her waist and it was a comfort and connection that could not be underestimated. Constantinople was a maze and all the more wondrous for it. Parts of the city were low, with spiralling low buildings seemingly woven together with oddly shaped pitched roofs and elaborate mosaics around each entrance. The air was fragrant, seemingly perfumed with the smell of rich spices and cooked food. They passed by open markets with towering piles of brightly coloured powders, fruits and seeds, many of which she suspected would accompany them on their return journey to delight their Queen. 

The palace seemed carved out of a dream, unlike anything she had seen in her life. The walls appeared carved out of clouds, soft enough to touch and yet when a fingertip passed over them, the stone was smooth. It towered above them, with gates so wide a ship could be floated between them, sails proudly unfurled in the effort. Gyda had to stop herself from staring, open-mouthed at the sight of it all. They were allowed to dismount from the animal and for this Gyda was grateful for her busy life as a farmer because both Kwenthrith and Judith stumbled from their animal. She and Asa managed the task easily enough, even if the muscles between her thighs pulled. She longed for family - for Halfdan’s gentle encouragement, Harald’s fierce pride, Hvitserk’s bemused humour and Ivar’s good sense. 

Judith surged ahead forcing Gyda to trail through the gates behind her. Asa hovered at her side, fingertips buried in the skirts of her gown as she nervously glanced up at Gyda and then forward again. Gyda pressed one hand to Asa’s shoulder, drawing comfort as much as she gave it. 

It was time to begin.

Negotiations

The moon gleamed overhead, so unlike the bright light of the day, casting a soft silver glow over the golden city. That fragrant air cooled, adding a measure of relief from the heat of day. Asa’s body rested against her, the sway of the camel, had put the child to sleep. What wonders the child had seen today. What wonders she had seen that day. However, she could not claim the day to be one of success.

She delivered the child to her brother’s waiting arms and he carried off the child after she assured him she would share all the details over their morning meal. She knew the others would also be wildly curious but she didn’t have the heart to share her thoughts at this moment with a crowd. She was never quite the story teller as Bjorn or Hvitserk, whose gift of words made them desirable companions as Ivar’s prowess in strategy made him a boon companion at any leadership meeting. Right now, Gyda needed the sweet relief from being with her own family.

Halfdan knew the minute she stepped into the tent. He approached quickly, pulling her in close, and holding her against his lean frame. Harald settled at her back, his strength and mass enough to allow Gyda’s knees to give way. He held her as Halfdan danced soft kisses over her cheek and over the curve of her lips. “What happened?” he whispered against her lips. 

“It was… oh let me sit. Let me drink some mead. Kiss my children and then I will tell you all. I pledge it.”

She saw her husbands exchange a glance but she didn’t have the heart or wit to protest or reassure. She broke from the comfort of them and scurried to where her beloved daughters lay, curled up with one another, soft toys tucked under their chins. She pressed soft kisses to their rosy cheeks, making them grumble in light protest as they turned over. She brushed a hand over their fair heads and finally left them in peace, although it was a wrench to step away.

When she turned back, she noted that her men had stripped off and Harald was holding out a cup of mead toward her.  Gyda accepted it gratefully, taking a deep swallow before passing it back. She passed the cup back and then waited patiently as Halfdan began to strip off her gown. Usually a thrall assisted with such tasks but at this moment, she only craved their company. The jewels were placed with care into an ornate box that Thyri had given her for this purpose. Her hair was unwoven from the artful braids, letting the strands tumble over her shoulders as his strong fingertips scratched at her scalp. A sigh of blissful relief rose from her lips and Halfdan chuckled indulgently at the sounds that issued from her. Harald placed the cup in her hands again and she took several swallows to satisfy herself. 

“So, tell us.”

Seating herself on the bedroll, she patted behind herself and they settled into place as they had a thousand times before. Harald was behind her such that her back was pressed to his chest. Halfdan was in front, his back to her chest so she could trace her fingertips over his tattoos. It was a place of comfort and it felt like home. 

“We entered through the most extraordinary doors. At first I thought they were gates because you could have sailed our ship right through them, with the mast at full sail. It was extraordinary. Every part of it was beautiful. We were ushered into this chamber where this vast table was set out. I thought there would only be a few Queens at this Council but there were more Queens there than warriors we brought with us on this journey.” Gyda started.

“How did anything happen?”

“Oh well, it was quite organised. These people, ones they called their Clerks, who appeared to be lesser nobles, were assigned to speak with us, determine which languages we spoke. And how to communicate. It was here that things started to slide.”

Harald jerked behind her, clearly astonished that things had gone awry so quickly. “Let me hazard a guess.”

“My love, we both know the cause.”

Halfdan sighed and nodded, “No one is surprised. Not now.” She knew he didn’t want her and Harald to slip into conflict over the Mercian Queen, not again at least. Gyda sighed in reluctant agreement. 

“So first I met Queen Meghighda and her Clerk, Massa Defne. I think Massa is a title, like Mistress or M’Lady. I could be wrong. Otherwise it is an extremely common name for women of all complexions here. So Meghighda has a vast kingdom but it is sparsely populated. Or so she says. Others indicated she understates the facts of the situation. Her Queendom is apparently a great producer of wine and spirits, which unfortunately Kwenthrith imbibed deeply.”

“Oh no.” Halfdan chimed in.

“I see you have predicted the end of my tale. Perhaps you have seeress blood in you.” Gyda teased lightly, shaking off some of the day’s exhaustion now that she was so cosy with her husbands. Harald wrapped his arms around her a little tighter and she was soothed. “But oh you should have seen these Queens. One drew on her makeup so fine that I could have sworn it could cut me like a blade should I have touched it. Lips painted the colour of blood. Jewels that make Thryi’s finest pieces look like they belong to children. In fact, a particularly beautiful Queen named Ebbaba told me that I do not need to be modest when coming before the Council and dress to seem humble. I didn’t have the will to share that I was already wearing the most beautiful pieces I own.”

Harald barked out a laugh at that, “If I thought you favoured jewellery I would make sure you were draped in the finest. But you would likely let our daughters play with it half the time and barely give it them a moment’s thought. You are too practical for such things sometimes.”

Gyda giggled in agreement, “You know me too well, Harald.”

“About this time, I was called forward to give a gift to Constantinople, as each Queen must do. I will say Kwenthrith’s offering of a particularly fine set of pottery was impressive and well-received. Judith also gifted a lovely bit of statuary.”

“And ours?”

“I will say that Athelstan did a wonderful bit of work writing and then illustrating the Sagas. Most of the Queens and their Clerks were unfamiliar with them. Oh it was exciting to see them so interested in our people and this is when it all started to decline. Kwenthrith made comments about how anyone who did not follow their Goddess was a heretic and would face her wrath. She was well in her cups by now and she could not handle herself with any decorum. She was alternating between flirting and aggressively baiting any Queen who caught her eye. Admittedly the beautiful ones. Queen Yarra hit her so hard that Kwenthrith fell to the floor in a puddle and didn’t move but to wail for about an hour. This was sadly the most peaceful part of the entire day as Judith and I managed to finally start speaking to the others.”

“Ohh I do not think Kwenthrith would much appreciate being ignored.” Halfdan chimed in.

“Oh you are right about that. Finally, frustrated by us not catering to her, I suppose, she rose up again, strode over to where we had gathered and attempted to interject. Then she lunged for the Sagas. I don’t know what she intended to do. Tear it up? Throw it into a brazier? Regardless, she did not succeed. Asa intervened before anyone else could move. The Queens called her a clever girl. Kwenthrith then proceeded to drink again, continuing to intoxicate herself. It was dark by the time they finally shoved that drunken fool back onto her camel and sent her on her way. Judith and I followed, with not nearly enough progress on our negotiations. At least they seemed interested.”

“We shall see what the fates have designed for us tomorrow.” Halfdan assured her, plying with her soft kisses as he spoke. 

“Well the next time we go, we are to bring our families. Some of these Queens have a full harem. A dozen men to serve their every need. Can you imagine?” Gyda teased, giggling as she spoke. Halfdan tickled her in retaliation

Harald sat up, “Are you getting ideas, my wife?” Gyda couldn’t answer for the spill of laughter that flowed out of her. 

The next morning, she found Ivar, seated by the water, staring out at the skyline. “I need your help.” she said by way of greeting. His eyes were their brightest shade of blue, unlike any other, which she knew meant the pain was particularly cruel this morning. 

“Good morning to you too, my sister.” His smile was laced in cruelty. There was a touch of madness to Ivar as well. She hoped it was enough. She needed a little madness, the kind she had never possessed. 

~ 

Ivar’s strategy was not her favourite but it was brilliant in its simplicity. Eight days had passed since their discussion along the waterfront. Eight days of sending man after man to distract the Mercian Queen. Some did not seem to object to the task, although not a single one wished to repeat the experience. Fortunately, Kwenthrith did not seem to mind the lack of consistency and seemed to relish the flirtations. 

In that time, she and Queen Judith had managed to make some progress. It was slow going. Kwenthrith’s ill first impression had coloured every interaction. Fortunately, Queen Yarra had found favour in Queen Judith. However, Gyda had to admit that her favourite new acquaintance was Massa Defne. She shared Gyda’s practical tendencies. 

Tonight, however, was something extraordinary. They were close to resolving the arrangements that would include Kattegat, Wessex and yes, even Mercia, in the trade route known as the Silk Road. Gyda was relieved. There were pleasures to be had in Constantinople, that much was certain. Her gowns were of finer quality and Harald had obtained a few jewels for her, ones that would even impress these regal Queens. The Council's authority was unmistakable. This City was a marvel and yet, Gyda longed for the quiet of the farm, the coolness of the breezes that drifted from the sea and the comforts of her home. Still, going to tonight’s festivities would be an experience that she would share with her grandchildren while balancing them on her lap and rocking in her chair.

If the Palace had been impressive during each of her prior visits, it did not compare to the beauty of it during this one. Lanterns cloaked in brilliant coloured paper hung from every post. Beneath them, servants painted in gold held trays in perfect stillness, offering goblets that somehow remained chilled despite the warmth of the night air. Gyda’s gown was unlike any she had worn before. The golden embroidery over the dark blue made her skin glow and her eyes shine. Or perhaps that was due to the good company. This was the first occasion whereby both Harald and Halfdan were at her side. Within minutes, they were greeted by Massa Defne and one of her harem, who happened to be a fierce scholar in his own right. The man was what was known as a cartographer. Bjorn and Halfdan were instantly enraptured and drew the man into a quiet conversation as he described his maps. They didn’t really speak one another’s language but it appeared some interests transcended the banality of language. 

Gyda sighed as Massa Defne relayed that Kwenthrith was an early arrival to the event and had managed to corner several of the most powerful Queens on the Council. It was rumoured that the Mercian Queen was trying to somehow orchestrate better terms of trade for her Queendom and to build her own harem in the north.  

Bjorn had managed to avoid the task of keeping Kwenthrith’s attention as of yet. Amma advised that if the Mercian Queen even looked at Hvitserk or Ivar, she would slit the woman’s throat herself. Unfortunately, Kwenthrith was growing bored with the warriors they had tossed into her path and had turned her sights on others. 

Queen Meghighda stopped by the group to speak to her clerk, Defne, as well as Gyda and Harald. As others ebbed and flowed around them like gentle currents, Gyda found herself setting aside her worries about the Mercian Queen. Meghighda leaned in and murmured, “The Daughter of the Empress will be arriving within the week. The Council will likely await her word on the matter. However, it is unlikely she will reject our recommendation.”

Gyda’s smile was soft, cautious, as she regarded the regal woman, “And will the Council recommend the trade arrangements.”

“At this time, there is every reason for optimism, Gyda. It has been a privilege to meet you and meeting your husbands has assured me of both your taste and good sense.” 

Gyda couldn’t help but flush at those words. Her gaze flashed between the two men who held her heart and her loyalty, “I cannot deny that at least.”

“Nor should you.” Meghighda replied, laughing softly, “Now come, let us teach you one of our traditional pairs dances.” 

Gyda didn’t need to be asked twice. She quickly claimed Harald’s hand, leaving Bjorn and Halfdan with their enthusiastic cartographer and their passionate conversation. The steps were easy enough to follow but Gyda had to admit it was a delightful dance. She tried to keep the lessons in mind as she moved and spun. She wanted to teach it to young Lagertha and Ragna, something they would have to treasure above and beyond the jewels and fabrics they had acquired in their time in Constantinople. They had considerable treasures accumulated to honour their Queen Thyri.

They were learning another dance when Halfdan opted to join them and wanted a turn. Gyda was giggling, her cheeks flushed and happiness running through her as her husbands bantered as to which of them would lead her in the next dance. She spun in Halfdan’s arms and was about to return to Harald’s when a terrible scream rent the air. The music screeched to an immediate halt. The guests ran, some heading for the exit, uncertain as to their safety. She didn’t blame them for the caution. These Queens and their men played at diplomacy but many of them held their Queendoms against all challengers. Many of their thrones were awash in blood. Thyri’s calm succession to lead Kattegat was the exception and not the rule.

Gyda, however, recognized one of the voices immediately. She did not have the grace to simply flee and bury her head in the sand, no matter how much she wished that she could. “Oh no no no,” she prayed to Freya as she rushed toward the sounds of shouting. Harald was at her side and Halfdan at her back as they pushed their way through the crowd. There, surrounded by food, was the nude Queen Kwenthrith of Mercia. She was standing on the table, her blood doused in blood, fresh enough to trickle down her pale flesh. She seemed out of place surrounded by the elegance of this glorious Palace and yet Gyda could not tear her eyes from the Mercian Queen. 

Beneath her was the prone form of a man, his face half hidden behind the fabric of Kwenthrith’s abandoned gown. In Kwenthrith’s hand was a blade, tainted red, as she sauntered down the length of the table, making sure to catch the eye of every person in the crowd. A man rushed forward, his hand tracing over the body left abandoned on the table. The shouts continued in a language Gyda did not know but it was easy to hazard a guess. The man was dead and all evidence was that Kwenthrith had slain him. 

Another scream, softer this time, and laced in grief. It was Queen Yarra, who until this moment, Gyda considered an ally and potential friend. She had a practical attitude and much like Gyda loved her husbands and children immensely. She was one of the few from her part of the world that did not also have a harem. Instead she used those quarters to house and care for the elderly men of her family. Gyda admired the woman, whose heart was now evidently broken by this sudden and cruel theft of life.

“Get her out of here now. Go. Depart our shores as soon as you can or it will be a slaughter. Go!” Defne tugged at Gyda’s arm. 

“No but…” She lifted her hand in protest, not because she doubted Defne’s words or intentions but all she could see was the destruction of all she had hoped to achieve, all that Thyri had hoped to achieve, for her Queendom and her people. She had wanted to create a legacy that would see Kattegat thrive for generations to come. Now, every dream was dashed and every careful plan lay in tatters at her feet. 

She glanced at Harald, “You and Bjorn get that woman. Bind her if you must and carry her to her ships. Tie her to the mast. I do not care. We must leave.” 

“Yes, Gyda.” Harald was quick to see the sense of Gyda’s instructions. The crowd surged around them as she stepped away, just that fraction further, and looked over at Defne. She might not have the chance to speak to her again, something she simply could not allow without one further effort. 

“May we speak in the morning? One last time before we set sail?” 

Defne’s eyes bloomed in sadness and somehow that wonderful complexion of dark night grew almost pale. To see the woman so disheartened struck at Gyda’s heart unexpectedly. “Please, I know the trade arrangements are…well, dust I suppose. But I would like to see you one last time.”

“Come to my gate at dawn. By midday, every warrior in the City will be looking for that woman and anyone wearing her colours. They might not make a distinction between you.” Defne warned. 

“I understand. To be fair, there is no Queen of the Northmen who would allow such an event to stand either. It would be war. I know this. I will see you at dawn. Thank you for your kindness.” Gyda replied before dusting a gentle kiss over the woman’s cheek. Kwenthrith was now in hand, screaming as it took five men to cart her away and out of the grand palace. The hatred in her chest was a living creature, full of poison. The Mercian Queen had ruined everything in one petty moment that robbed a Queen of her husband and robbed the North of access to the greatest route of trade ever known. 

Halfdan kept his arm around her as they travelled back to the encampment. It was already in the process of being packed up. There was one thing that could be said of a Northman and that was they knew when it was practical to retreat and in that, they could move quickly. The ships were being laden as rumours, truths and lies, flew through the City, most of whom were being woken to hear of the great scandal that shook Constantinople. 

Ivar was perched outside her tent as she emerged. The sky was dark and his eyes seemed to glow, welcoming the gradually brightening day. “Ivar.” she sighed out and gave him a hug, seeking comfort almost unconsciously. It was rare she sought comfort from this particular brother. Usually that task fell to Ubbe or Sigurd. Bjorn was too prone to teasing her to ever provide much gentle consolation.  

“I have an idea.” Ivar started, his voice a quiet hiss, “We must speak to one of the Queens.”

“I am on my way to say my farewells to Massa Defne. She isn’t a Queen but she has the ear of many of them. Will that suffice? I cannot promise much of a reception.”

Ivar shrugged, clearly not entirely pleased but then nodded, “It’ll do. Hopefully she will have the influence we need.”

“Then come, brother of mine.”

Endings

His skin was still polished from his time at the baths operated in the great City of Constantinople. The men of Mercia and Wessex were not as accustomed to bathing frequently. The Northmen, however, had found these baths to be a true pleasure, relishing in the time they spent getting their skin polished as if they were fine gems to adorn their ladies’ gowns. 

His tattoos seemed to gleam in the fading light of day as Queen Kwenthrith ran her fingertips along his shoulders. “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” she trilled, a soft laugh falling from her lips as she spoke. She had scattered her warriors, mixing them among the others, at his request. He had whispered in her ear, advising her that no one could know. 

His hands remained at his side as he replied, “I held as long as I could, m’Lady but you are a goddess among women.”

She scoffed as she pushed back her long dark hair, freshly washed after they came ashore. “I see now why your wife is so possessive of you. Such a sweet tongue.”

“Are your men well-scattered? I will not lose my children by being seen…”

“I know,” Kwenthrith cut in sharply, clearly not prepared to listen any further to his worries about his status or his position, “I am not seeking a permanent connection. Just a lover. However, you may long for more when we are done, Prince Harald Finehair.” Her hand cupped his cock and Harald stepped back in sheer surprise. Only his Gyda was so forward with him. There was danger in the air, as though it had a taste on his tongue. He was surprised she couldn’t sense it as well. The woman was insensate - the goddesses had not favoured her with good sense to accompany her immense privilege. It was said she had two daughters at home and he prayed that they had more wit than their mother.

“And your men?” he repeated.

She rolled her eyes, the derision evident, his worries dismissed. “Scattered among Gyda’s men and Judith’s…Some are hunting, others caring for the camp, as they should.” 

Finally, it was a sensible answer from an insensible woman. Harald’s smile was edged in cruelty as he considered the wild Queen of Mercia. “Good, although I suspect none of them are hunting so much as being hunted.”

Kwenthrith had been tracing her hands over him, smug satisfaction in every line, and then she faltered, seeming to finally grasp his words. Her smile faded. “What?”

Another voice joined the conversation. “Unfortunately we have other plans for you, Queen Kwenthrith.” 

Kwenthrith spun around, meeting Queen Judith’s fierce gaze. The woman was nothing if not ruthless, everyone in Mercia knew of the Wessex Queen’s rise to power. “I assure you, however, that your eldest daughter, Cwenthryth, will be raised in my court. The other, Kenelm is it, will also be safely fostered. I assure you.”

“No!” Kwenthrith squealed. “You will not make my lands a puppet Queendom of your own. I refuse it. My warriors will crush yours. My army is worth ten of yours!” Her voice seemed to boom in the small clearing. She was a woman accustomed to authority but as she spun back to seek his support, he was no longer standing where she expected him to be.

Instead he was standing next to the woman who was truly the centre of his life. His smile took on a cold edge, “Did you think yourself interesting enough to tempt me into betraying my wife?”

Kwenthrith tossed her dark hair back, running smoothing hands down her gown as she appeared to gather her courage around her, like a cloak. She truly was a woman of power and beauty. She however was not his wife or his queen. “Everyone knows that the Northmen may lay with others when they are across the waters. You cannot deny that!” 

“You couldn’t even lure Bjorn to your bed when his Queen is an ocean away, did you really think you stood a chance with Harald or Halfdan? You make a mockery of us.” Gyda’s words were soft and derisive and she stepped around Harald to stare down the other woman.

Judith circled around Kwenthrith to stand next to Gyda. “And that is the arrangement that has been made.”

The Mercian Queen laughed, “Arrangement? The negotiations failed. Your miserable attempts to trade with the Queens of the East and the South have failed. They want nothing to do with any of us. ” 

Judith’s hands folded together neatly as she nodded, “Yes, we realise you tried to kill any opportunity to finalise any arrangements between us. However, did you not question why our sailing was delayed and we were not overrun with the warriors of the Queens.” Her smile was suddenly warm, perhaps for the first time during this journey. Her voice dipped into her quiet authority as she continued, “In truth, we met with the Council and in particular, the daughter of the Empress herself. Before we left Constantinople.”

“What?” Kwenthrith’s expressive face dissolved into confusion, her confidence leaking from her shoulders as she stepped back warily. 

Gyda stepped forward and nodded in agreement with the Wessex Queen, “We have an agreement. In exchange we must live up to our part of the arrangement. Your Queendom will benefit as well, Kwenthrith.”

“Unfortunately, you will not.” Judith stated.

A Promise Fulfilled

The doors opened, spilling the light of early morning over the hall’s polished floors. The daughter of the Empress looked up as her warriors stepped toward her, framing her with their strength as their visitors’ approached. One girl, not yet budded into womanhood, approached. She was recognized of course. It had only been one full turn of the moon since the Northmen departed. Yidu smiled in recollection and gracefully dipped her head in acknowledgment of the child. 

The child’s embroidered tunic shone in the sunshine, nearly as bright as the gold of her hair. Yidu had to admit that she envied that brightness. Perhaps she would take a lover with those glittering locks, she mused to herself as young Asa, Princess of Kattegat, approached. Behind her was the towering figure of her father. They did seem to grow tall, these northerners, like flowers straining for the sun. Perhaps this accounted for the brightness. 

Finally, the young princess stopped in front of her and dipped her knee in a respectful curtsy worthy of her mother’s crown. “I bid you good day, Princess Yidu.”

“And I you, Princess Asa. May I ask what has brought you back to Constantinople?”

The child seemed to gulp and then straightened her shoulders once again, “I have brought you a gift.” She waved her hand toward her father, who stepped forward and lifted a satchel. He gestured to lower it but there were scrolls and other miscellanea in his way. 

Yidu lifted a hand in a gesture of permission. All items were cleared away with haste. The satchel was lowered, a dull thud resonating through the room as the parcel met the wood. The consort bowed his head and then stepped back, behind his daughter, lending her his support while not overtaking her words. A good father, Yidu acknowledged as she nodded respectfully at the man. These Northmen were fascinating to say the least. They had certainly brought some liveliness to the ancient trading port. 

Asa dipped her knee once again, “We bid you good day, Princess Yidu.”

A wave of the hand dismissed the Northmen from her purview but she couldn’t resist a small smile for the young princess who had conducted her delivery mission with such dignity. Asa departed the hall, the doors closing behind her and her towering father, somehow taking all the brightness from the room at the same time. At that moment, Yidu resolved to request permission from the Empress, her mother, to travel to the lands that made such towering giants and dignified girls with hands rough as those of a peasant but sharp eyes the colour of the ocean. They were just so very interesting.

“Would you like me to open the parcel for you, M’Lady?” her handmaiden asked, extending a graceful hand toward the rough parcel.

“I shall do it.” Yidu replied, crisply. Her handmaiden withdrew, chastened by the Princess’ tone. She folded the fabric aside to reveal a box of some kind. After considering all angles, Yidu tugged up the straps, pulling off the lid. She glanced in and a slow smile formed.

“What is it, Princess?” The handmaiden asked, the curiosity evident in the optimism of the question. She hoped the Princess would answer but didn’t count on it. Yidu was as changeable as she was beautiful. However, she was also clever. She was truly her mother’s daughter. 

“It appears that the Northmen have kept their word. The bargain is sealed. Let trade begin with our new allies.” Yidu stated as she stepped away from the table, leaving the opened parcel on the table. The Princess walked out of the room, a smile playing over her lips as she strode away, knowing the others would wait just until the door closed to lurch over and spy into the box. The warriors would be amused by its contents as much as the handmaidens would be horrified. The head of Queen Kwenthrith of Mercia was a gruesome sight, ugly in death as lovely as she had been in life. 

Yidu knew the tasks that lay ahead of her, establishing a new location of trade, with new allies, who could sail seas untenable by most. However, she had the measure of it and them. It seems Lady Gyda was a noble ally indeed. She hoped her Queen was worthy of such loyalty. She had to update her mother, the Empress, of these events. In that missive she would request permission to travel. 

Princess Yidu wanted to meet the Queen of Kattegat.

#vbb winter 22 #vikings fanfiction #vikings big bang winter 2022 #the queen of kattegat #mrgabel

[multific]

In Love with a Monster

Ivar the Boneless x Reader

A/N: Dedicated to the one and only @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage, you told your husband was a monster.

"He is a monster, yet you want me to marry him?!"

"It is best for our kingdom. And it is final, you will marry Ivar!" your father's words sent shivers down your spine. You have been arguing and trying to reason with him for the past hours to no avail.

Your father was a stubborn man, ever since you lost your mother, it got worse.

But having you marry a Viking? 

He said it was to ensure the relationship since Vikings were great at fights.

He explained that soon, a carriage will arrive for you and you will be taken to Kattegat to your husband.

And it was final.

You felt betrayed by your own father.

But what did you expect?

You knew he had been looking for a husband for you. You just never expected that he would find such a man, or as he said, a monster.

You had a terrible nightmare, dreaming of monsters as you woke up in cold sweat. 

Your life might as well end now.

But the next day, just as your father said, the carriage arrived and soon, you were on a boat sailing towards your demise and misery.

To be married to a Viking monster.

---

Ivar on the other hand was rather excited. When his mother told him about a Princess he will marry, he found himself to be rather excited and nervous.

He walked with his brothers towards the waters, seeing the boat, Ivar let out a sigh.

Hoping his bride would not be too afraid of him.

---

As you got off the boat a kind woman stepped forward. She was the Queen, wife of Ragnar, Aslaug. 

"Meet my sons, this is Ubbe, Sigurd, Hvitserk and your husband to be, Ivar." you kindly bowed to all of them and you could feel them staring at you. You wondered if your dress was possibly too much. You knew better than to stare but you did notice the weird contraption around Ivar's legs.

"He is a cripple, he cannot walk but do not let that fool you, he is a monster, a terrible murderer who would take down an army by himself." your father's words rang in your head.

"Currently the wedding is being planned so I think it would be best to let you rest, I'll show you to your room." said Aslaug, breaking the silence. 

You nodded one last time and the men in front of you before turning to follow their mother. She guided you to a house and inside she showed you a room. "Now, this would be only before your wedding, of course after it, you would be with Ivar. Welcome to Kattegat." she smiled before leaving you alone in the room to get ready for the wedding.

You let out a sigh.

"Are all monsters this handsome?" you said to yourself quietly before two servants arrived to get you dressed.

---

"You are lucky, Brother!" said Hvitserk as he patted Ivar on the back, they all walked off the docks, heading to their business. "She is a beauty!"

"And a Princess! You are clearly mother's favourite child, giving you such a bride. OR she just feels sorry for you." said Sigurd but Ivar didn't pay any mind to him.

His mind was filled with you.

How beautiful you looked, how shy you were. He was certain you have seen his legs, or at least heard about them. 

Ivar couldn't stop thinking about you. His senses were filled as he could recall a small whiff of your scent. Such a sweet and innocent woman you were, he could tell.

You will be the perfect wife and a great Viking.

His princess.

---

You looked at yourself in your gown as the servants left and gave you some space. 

You felt your hands shake, you knew you were about to be married to a monster.

You were terrified.

You learned a long time ago that people with beautiful faces can be the most cruel. 

And it is what you expected.

---

Ivar watched you walk towards him. Looking like a goddess, Ivar's breath was taken away immediately.

He could tell his brothers also had the same thought. 

Soon, you will be his wife, only his. 

He could see your hands shake as you said your vows.

You were his now.

His woman.

His wife.

His Princess.

His.

As the wedding concluded, now it was time for celebration. Everyone danced, drank and ate.

Ivar saw you looking around, as if trying to learn the habits. Ivar liked that you were willing. 

You, on the other hand, stared at all these people while feeling the burning looks coming from your left, Ivar kept staring at you, making you nervous.

You didn't want the night to end. You were terrified of being alone with him. You did everything that you could just to avoid being alone with him. 

You were rather surprised that Ivar didn't do anything that evening. He showed you his home but that was it, he soon headed to his bed and slept. Leaving you and your thoughts alone.

You were thankful he didn't force you.

---

This went on for a couple of days.

Ivar either ignored or barely acknowledged your presence. 

And you, were terrified of him. Being how your father put all these ideas into your head before he sent you off. 

Slowly, you started to believe they weren't true.

A monster would surely have hurt you or forced you. Ivar never did.

A monster would hurt you or leave you out in the cold. Ivar never did. Instead, he invited you into his home, his bed even, gave you furs and always made sure the fire was crackling away in its place.

During the first days, you would be afraid to fall asleep, fearing he would try something while you weren't aware of it.

But not anymore.

Slowly but surely you were coming around. 

You often heard his brothers tease him about his legs. You wondered if you should say something, but you never did.

Until tonight. When Sigurd decided to be cruel. Ivar was crawling on the floor towards Sigurd when he laughed and pulled the chair back, making Ivar fall. 

You hit the table and stood up. Your eyes locked with Sigurd's you felt everyone staring at you as the room went completely silent.

Sigurd smirked.

"Would the princess like to say something?" his mocking tone changed something inside you.

"We already know you have a tiny cock Sigurd. No need taunt my husband to try and prove otherwise." Sigurd's eyes nearly fell out of his head as Ubbe and Hvitserk laughed. Sigurd looked at Ivar before he walked out of the room, you sat back and finished your meal.

You had no idea what came over you. But you certainly didn't regret it.

"So, you do talk." said Ubbe and it made you look at him.

"Of course I do."

"You have fire in you. You'll be a great Viking." he said as he leaned back in his chair, smirking but you only looked back at your food as you ate. 

You didn't look at Ivar intentionally.

But he was looking at you.

You actually stood up for him. While everyone just sat there laughing, you actually stepped up and defended him. 

And he was grateful.

He had a feeling it wasn't out of pity but rather you had enough of his brother's teasing. 

Ivar smiled to himself as he headed back to his bed. Having his little wife defend him felt truly great. Before, only his mother stood up for him, but now, you did too.

Ivar knew you are afraid of him. It is clear in your actions. But as he pulled his shirt off and laid back in his bed, closing his eyes, all he could think about was you and how beautiful you looked as you told his brother off.

When you entered the room, your eyes were immediately drawn to Ivar. He looked to be asleep on the bed, furs pooling around his waist and his chest on full display.

You were rather taken aback. 

You have never seen him like this before. 

You were shocked. He looked so peaceful and soft. 

The tattoos adoring his chest only made his skin more stunning. The fireplace gave his skin a gorgeous glow. 

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to run your fingers over the ink on his skin.

You wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch.

He looked so comfortable, you wanted nothing more than be held by his arms.

Those strong arms.

You took silent steps, fearing you would wake him. But as you moved to lay down, he stirred as he turned and looked at you.

"I didn't mean to wake you." you said with a low voice. His eyes searched yours, slowly he moved in bed, slightly getting closer to you.

"Are you still afraid of me?" his sudden question made you question yourself.

Sure, during the last couple days, he had been nothing but kind to you.

And it did make you wonder.

He was surely not a monster.

"I don't know." your answer was honest, but you wouldn't say you were scared it was more cautious. 

Cautious because you feared you might have fallen in love with him. And you weren't sure what to do with these feelings.

"My father told me about you before I arrived and I don't think he was right."

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me you were a monster, covered in blood with a wicked smile. Tole me you were a rough man and I would be happy to live a day within your claws. But, I believe he was wrong." you looked down at your hands before looking up into his beautiful eyes. "You have been nothing but kind towards me. I heard you in the kitchen making sure everything was to my liking. You asked your mother for advice and I heard her talk with you about me. I judged you prematurely, and for that, I apologize."

"You are very different from us." he said moving to sit against the pillows. "Your dresses, your hair, the way you speak, eat. I'm simply mesmerised. I feel like I'm falling in love with you, yet don't know anything about you."

There was a moment of silence as you tried to process what he just told you.

"You can be angry and proud, but you can also be gentle and caring. I wouldn't say I love you Ivar, but I can say that I can see myself falling in love with you. I believe we could be happy together here in Kattegat."

"You defended me today. Only my mother did that before."

"I simply had enough of your brother. He believes teasing you would prove his strength but it only shows his weakness. I do like your family however. I do not have siblings, so it is nice to see."

"How many times did Hvisterk try and bed you?" you let out a sigh.

"About... five. But even so, he never touched or forced me. He just simply asked, which I always declined."

"I know you did. He would have told me if he fucked you."

"D-Don't say it like that, please! I wouldn't... sleep with your brother anyway. I believe in the unity of marriage it is sacred." 

"I know you do." Ivar smiled. "Whatever should I do to make you love me, you name it."

"I believe you are already doing enough just by being so patient with me. If you could... I-I would like to be your wife, not just the woman who sleeps in your room. I wish to be a real wife to you as you would be a real husband."

"Tell me what is it you mean by that." Ivar moved even closer, grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. You looked deeper into his eyes.

"I wish for us to find love in one another. A companionship. I wish to be the one who can calm you when you are the most angry. I wish for us to kiss and make love. To have a future and a happy life."

"You speak so sweetly. Your father was not fully wrong however. I did kill many before and I will continue to do so. If that bothers you-"

"I doesn't. It is who you are. I see it now. It is how Viking's are. I do not want to change you. I quite like you the way you are."

"Even my legs?"

"I do not care for your legs. I believe God had to take something from you otherwise you would have been too powerful." your hand moved to his neck as you pulled him closer until your lips met his. 

You were still why and Ivar could sense that, so he decided to take lead and kiss you with passion.

He soon pulled back, "Now that we kissed, I believe it is time to make love." the way he said it, his accent made a shiver run down you spine, he moved you close to him, his lips finding your neck as his hand held your waist. 

You felt your hands shake but this time, it was more excitement than nervousness.

---

The next morning you woke up to a feeling rather strange, someone was holding you and you felt more tired than you should.

Then after just a second, the memories came back. 

Suddenly, you realized who the arms belonged to and just why you were naked.

It was very early as you could tell, Kattegat was still asleep.

And judging by the soft snores behind you, so was Ivar.

Last night was the first ever you spent with him, it was the perfect night. 

And now, feeling his breath on your neck as his arms held you to his chest, you felt at ease. You felt happy.

You managed to fall in love with the monster.

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[literaryuppsala]

Hello ❤ got a request. Can you please write about reader that used to be married to rollo and one day he just fucks off without telling the reader. Years later he got informed that the reader had gotten pregnant and that it was his child. Rollo wants to go back to be with his "family" but to do that he has to go through a trail of sorts. He agrees to it without knowing what it is. The trail being, him chained to the bed and having to watch as the reader gets fucked by everybody of the ragnarson family. He is close enough where he can hear and see everything but he is not allowed to touch the reader. And at the end he found out that the reader has gotten remarried to ubbe/bjorn/maybe even ragnar??? And that his child doesn't even know him and he gets kicked out 🤤😌

You can choose to do either just the men of the family including ragnar cause I want to see rollo suffer or you can choose to have the mothers/ wives with them.if you want to, have the reader blind folded so she has to guess who it is ❤

Basically make rollos life hell 😂

What a ride... I guess I never wrote something like that, I am THRIVING, it's filthy, it's messy, has a lot of fluids, and dude it took me forever to finish, like always... Anyways, I hope you like it AND YOU WATCHED THE PROCESS SO BE NICE TO ME! Thank you for your ask babe, have fun you pervert.

Warnings: ALL OF THE WARNINGS POSSIBLE, it's complete filth, pure smut, but with a little plot, not a lot, just a little to give context.

Minors, stay the hell away from this one, I'm not joking.

Sweet like justice, karma is a queen.

You were very young when you first met Ragnar and his brother Rollo. Your eyes crossed paths with them on one of their first meetings with your father, Horik. They were handsome, strong warriors, such a sight when you first saw them, caught your attention very quickly. The meetings ended up with an alliance, Horik and Ragnar decided to raid together in England, returning to Norway filled with treasures and a promise of land. 

A feast was prepared to celebrate, the treasures were shared between everyone but Rollo wanted something else, he wanted more. You didn’t mind at first when his eyes caught yours in the middle of the night, didn’t mind when he approached you and offered a cup of ale, you talked until everyone else was already passed out around you and you ended up in his bed that night. 

You really thought he loved you, he proposed to your father who gladly accepted and you married him just a few months later that night. He moved you to Kattegat, bought you a house and introduced you to his family until It became yours. But things changed, he changed. One day you heard about a woman he had in his life, someone he loved but died years before, and you thought that was the reason, that he couldn’t love you completely because part of his heart died with her and you learned to live like that. 

But Rollo was a different man, to be married to him wasn’t easy, he was demanding, ambitious, always thought he should be doing greater things, that he should be bigger. After years of marriage he became very distant and despite having his way with you every night, you were never able to conceive, you thought to yourself that something was wrong with you, that the gods made you that way and that was another reason for your husband to treat you like that. 

“I went to see the healer.” You told him one night. “She gave me a few herbs that can help.”  

“The gods cursed me.” He mumbled. “An empty woman who can not give me any child.” 

Ragnar was the one to always cheer you up, saying that you weren’t the problem, but his brother. He wouldn’t make a good father, he’d say, the gods won’t give him a child to raise. You never told Rollo about these conversations, he hated his brother and the fact that after Horik’s death, he became the king, something he thought belonged to himself. 

 “Your brother was looking for you.” You warned him as you put his plate in front of him at the table. 

“He came here?” He asked without looking at you. 

“Yes, he said It was important.” You continued. “I think it is about going back to Frankia.” You sat in front of him. “You should take me this time.” 

“No.” He answered simply. 

“Why not?” 

“It’s dangerous, and you have no business in Frankia.” 

“I’m a shieldmaiden Rollo, I wasn't made to sit back at home and take care of your children.” 

“What children? You haven’t given me any.”

They left to Frankia the next morning, Rollo left without saying a single word to you and something in your heart broke that day. Months later they came back, you were at the pier waiting, your baby bump showing and a big smile on your face, a few days after their departure you found out you were with child, and you couldn’t wait to tell Rollo about It. But as the ship docked, your smile died on your face. 

“Where is he?” You asked when Ragnar stood in front of you, his hand immediately touching your belly. He didn’t answer, but you knew, he stayed there. 

Later you learned Ragnar was betrayed by Rollo and defeated by Frankia’s army and the last news he had before leaving was about his marriage with a princess. Rollo had abandoned you without a second thought. 

Years later, you grew accustomed to a new life, your son was already five years old and growing stronger each day. Ragnar took care of you, accepting you in his house, he protected you and your child, who he named after one of his good friends, Leif, and he loved your boy, after his own boys grew into strong men, to have yours running around gave him life and so did you. 

You weren’t blind to Ragnar’s affection towards you, after Aslaug’s death he didn’t have anyone in his life except for you and despite being a sight for sore eyes, you weren’t interested on the men in Kattegat, but both of you never tried anything, maybe you felt wrong about that even though Rollo was gone for so long. However, he wasn’t the only one, Bjorn and Ubbe, Hvitserk and Ivar, and even Sigurd, all had soft spots for you, but you brushed it off and ignored it as something simple as a crush. 

One night, without a warning, a ship docked at the pier. People let Ragnar know about it, and he went there with both Bjorn and Ubbe, just to find a ship from Frankia, from where Rollo jumped. He frowned, confused by his brother’s presence, Rollo looked into his eyes and swallowed hard.

With a grunt Ragnar turned around, silently nodding for his sons to grab Rollo by his arms and drag him to the great hall. As soon as they got there, Ragnar took his place in his throne and Rollo was thrown on his knees, at his feet. You heard the noise from your bedroom in the back and walked towards It, standing in shock when you finally saw the man. Rollo seemed old, his once dark brown hair was filled with gray strands, so was his beard, he widened his eyes as soon as they met yours. 

“Mama!” You heard Leif’s voice and heard his footsteps running towards you, looking for you. He hugged your legs as soon as he found you. You grabbed him in your arms, Rollo’s eyes focused on the boy and a tiny smile showed up on his face, but that was quickly wiped by a punch, thrown by Bjorn. 

“Don’t look at him.” He grunted angrily. 

It didn’t take long for Ivar and Hvitserk to join you in the great hall, none of them seemed happy to see the man in front of them, neither were you. 

“What are you doing here?” Ragnar rasped.

“I want to come back…” He mumbled. 

“Seems funny… After all these years…” 

“I have every right to be here, to be with my family.”

“The family you abandoned…” 

“I’m here now.” 

“You say this like you’re some sort of treasure we should be proud to gain. Tell me, Rollo, what happened in Frankia to make you want to come back?” 

“I heard about my son, I want to know him.”

You hugged your son, like you could protect him from Rollo’s prying eyes.

“He’s not yours.” You growled. “He’s mine, only mine. Didn’t your princess give you any sons?” 

“Brother…” Rollo looked at Ragnar. 

“Don’t talk to him, talk to me, I’m the wife you abandoned!” You insisted but lowered his head again. “This is unbelievable…”

“I want to prove myself.” He answered. “To you…” He looked at Ragnar then moved to you. “And to you.” He sighed. “To the gods… I deserve that!”

It took a few minutes of silence between all of you, Rollo looking around searching for any sign of kindness, but you weren’t one to pity that man, not after everything he put you through. 

“Take Leif to the back.” Ragnar told you. “And come back here.” 

You didn’t understand at first, but nodded and took your son to your bedroom, asking one of the servants to stay there with him. 

“Don’t leave until I come back.” You told her under your breath, locking her inside. 

When you came back you found Rollo tied up to a chair in the middle of the great hall, Ragnar was standing in front of him while his sons waited behind him. He looked over his shoulders and offered his hand to you, you frowned but took it, walking until you were standing by his side. 

Ragnar grabbed you by your waist, startling you who quickly wrapped your arms around his neck for support when he took you in his arms, bride style, taking you to the nearest table, he sat you there, taking his place between your legs. 

“Do you trust me?” He asked under his breath, only for you to hear. 

“I do.” You whispered shyly and he smiled.

Ragnar took a cloth from his pocket and covered your eyes, your breath caught on your throat and you sighed heavily. You felt his hand feather touching your face before moving away from your body and you immediately felt the absence of his warmth. The next thing you felt was a pair of hands on your thighs and a warm breath against your cheeks, before you noticed, someone kissed you. 

The kiss was feverish, filled with a hunger you never experienced before, you’ve never been kissed like that. Teeth and tongue, saliva gathering on the corners of your mouth, a pair of hands meeting the base of your spine pulling you closer to the edge of the table, his thighs between yours keeping your legs open. He stopped the kiss to murmur against your lips.

“Waited so long to do this.”

You recognized Ragnar’s voice before he kissed you again, your mind spinning when your hands met his hips, unconsciously pulling him into you. His hands roamed down your shoulders taking down the sleeves of your dress. You felt a little self conscious and your body tensed, Ragnar distracted you by taking his kisses down your neck and collarbones, making you shiver. A “what’s this…” growled by Rollo sounded in the back of your mind and something twisted inside you, you felt excited.

Ragnar kept kissing down your chest, taking down your dress until your breasts were exposed, your breath hitched and your nipples hardened on the cold of the great hall. His mouth latched at your nipple, sucking on the little nub, your hands met the back of his head and you pressed his face against your chest, wanting more of that sensation. He did the same to the other nipple, using his hand to knead at the free breast.

Between your legs, Ragnar found the skirts of your dress, raising everything up your waist “Open your legs for me.” He asked against your lips and you obeyed, suddenly he moved away from you and stood by your side, your pussy now in full display for Rollo’s widened eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Rollo asked with gritted teeth. 

“What do you think?” Ragnar asked back, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and making you whine. “I’m gonna fuck your wife.” 

With that being said, Ragnar kneeled in front of you, hands rubbing on your calves before putting them on his shoulders. His lips brushed against the side of your inner thighs, his beard scratching the soft skin as he peppered kisses all around until he shoved his face into your bare pussy, licking from your hole to your clit. Your back arched and you gasped, putting your arms behind your back, on the table, for some support, throwing your head back. 

Ragnar was something else while he was eating you out, with a little crowd watching, he wanted to  give them a show. With his face buried into your cunt, he was nosing onto your clit while teasing your hole with the tip of his tongue, then he worked through your folds, long and slow licks like he was savoring you, drinking from you. You suppressed a moan, still self conscious of the others presence surrounding you, earning yourself a low grunt that sent vibrations through your core and a harsh slap on your thighs.

Rollo’s eyes were glued to your body, he was growling under his breath, trying to get rid of the straps binding him to that chair. Ragnar moaned right into your pussy, he moved his tongue quickly and you started to grind your hips on his face, gripping his hair and pulling it slightly. His beard was scratching against the soft skin of your pussy, you could feel it rubbing against you painfully while he started sucking on your clit.

Your moans became louder, your hips moved on its own accord, your body was working on automatic, the knot on lower belly forming and tightening. Suddenly, two of his fingers were knuckles deep into your warmth, thrusting up inside you and you gasped: ‘Ragnar’ knowing damn well Rollo was listening to you. Ragnar could feel your walls clenching around his fingers, so he increased his pace, dragging more mewls from your mouth until the knot finally snapped and you groaned loudly. 

Ragnar stood up, turning on his side to stare at a nervous Rollo, his face glistening with your slick, he sucked his fingers clean off your juices and cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand. Moving away from between your legs, he held your chin, your fucked out face on full display for his brother’s sight. 

“Open your legs.” He ordered again, and you obeyed, showing off your puffy cunt. “Did you miss this, brother? Did your princess have a better one?”  

Once again he was between your legs, shimming out of his slacks and pulling his cock out. His hands quickly held the back of your thighs and pulled you further to the edge of the table, his tip featherly touching your hole making you whine. 

“See, Rollo…” He grabbed the base of his cock, rubbing it against your pussy and coating himself in your juices. “I don’t think you could ever have anything better.” He pushed himself in and both of you moaned in unison, fresh slick leaking out of you to coat his length. 

Ragnar threw his head back, closing his eyes as he felt your warm walls engulfing him, sinking into you slowly until he’s fully sheathed. He pulled back completely just to slam inside you again, he did that slowly a few times, like he was savoring every inch of you, until he was thrusting up inside you and he didn’t hold back. Holding your hips with one of his hands, the other met the space between your breasts, pushing you back until you laid down on the table. You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer.

“Gods…” You moaned, holding onto the table like your life depended on it. 

With your eyes covered, you felt everything more intensely, Ragnar’s body on you, picking up the pace until he was pounding hard into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs with every thrust. You clenched down on him and he gasped, hand squeezing your hip hard while the other kneaded on your breasts that bounced with every movement of your body. 

When he felt your thighs starting to tremble, he brought his hand to your aching pussy and found your clit, making quick work of your bundle of nerves with the tip of his fingers. You moaned again, loudly, feeling your orgasm approaching you, the knot on your lower belly starting to form. 

“Let go for me.” He begged under his breath. 

With a particular hard thrust the knot snapped, triggering Ragnar’s own release as he pushed himself to a hilt, his body tensing as both of you panted heavily. He leaned forward for a moment spreading kisses all over your stomach before moving away from between your legs, putting his trousers back and holding one of your knees to keep you wide open, his cum dripping from your pussy, onto the table and on the floor. 

“That was...” Ragnar mumbled, three little slaps on your knee had you sitting up straight. 

“Can I-Can I go now?” You heard as Rollo begged.

“What? No…” You felt when Ragnar moved away and heard some shifting around you, the thrilling feeling of not knowing what to expect had your pussy throbbing with need in a way It never did before. “We’re only getting started.”

You gulped, scared about what he meant, but excited at the same time. Next thing you knew, the space between your legs was occupied again, a bulky, slightly familiar body stood there like it belonged there, you shifted on your place, not able to close your legs and feeling again self conscious of your own nudity. 

“Ragnar…” You mumbled under your breath, a pair of hands touched the sides of your face before you were kissed. 

Even though you felt familiarity within the act, that wasn’t Ragnar, that kiss was different, passionate, but still unsure, It felt like he was claiming a new territory. His beard scratched the soft skin on your face, his teeth nipped at your lower lip, you couldn’t help but open up to let him in, you held his face and kissed him back. 

“Can I do this?” He mumbled against your lips and you recognized Bjorn’s voice. You gasped, surprised. 

“Bjorn…” You whispered, your hands started to shake. 

“I’ll be gentle.” He assured you, one of his hands touching the side of your face. “I promise.” 

You felt your heart sinking to your stomach, like it was beating there, the blood in your veins ran fast and your body quivered, your mind was spinning, when his hands found the swell of your pussy you whined in his mouth, turning your head to the side giving him room to work on your neck. Bjorn sucked and nipped your skin like an artist painting his masterpiece, taking his sweet time while his fingers worked through your cum wet folds. 

He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that another man just fucked you minutes ago, by the feeling of it, he seemed turned on. Two of his fingers entered you when his mouth found your perky nipple and you moaned, arching your back offering him more of your chest. You were overstimulated from your previous orgasm and the sensations Bjorn was bringing to you, your peak wouldn’t take long so you clenched around his fingers and worked your hips in sync with his movements. With his thumb he started to nurse on your clit, rubbing the small bead in tight circles until you came on his fingers, a loud, long moan filling the great hall. 

Bjorn wasted no time after this, you felt him standing up and shimming out of his trousers, sinking into you in one swift motion. You gasped, not used to the way he stretched you out, and threw your head back, making room for him to kiss on your neck. He sheathed inside you, not pulling out immediately, just grinding against your hips first, his hip bone teasing your clit. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and arched your back, leaning back over your hands. He used both of his hands to grab your breasts then leaned forward to catch one of your nipples with his mouth, sucking on the perky buds. It was messy. Wet with your own arousal and Ragnar’s cum, you could feel it dripping from your core. 

Slowly, Bjorn pulled out completely, just to thrust back in. He did this a few times, dragging soft mewls from your mouth. With his hand between your breasts he made you lay down on the table once more, picking up his pace. You held onto the table while he started to rut against you with full force, your body jolting back and forth. His mouth was skillful on your nipple, going from one to the other and still using his hands. 

“You feel so good…” He mumbled, one of his hands leaving your breasts and quickly finding your clit. 

You moaned loudly. With two of his fingers he pinched your clit, then dragged his finger around in tiny circles. The pressure on your belly started to build and you squeezed your eyes shut, even though you weren’t actually with them open to start with. Your mind could only focus on his movements, you clenched around his cock and he growled, speeding up his fingers and his thrusts. Bjorn was fucking the air out of your lungs as he fucked you like his life was on the line, his cock throbbed inside you, the sound of skin slapping against skin was filling the great hall and was so loud. 

“Enough.” 

Somewhere, on the back of your mind, you heard Rollo’s beg, but as your climax approached you could only think of this. Bjorn’s thrusts started to falter, he became sloppier as he chased his own release and you were right behind him, feeling the pressure on your body finally explode. You came around his cock, clenching down on him with a wanton moan. He came right after you, feeling you to the brim with his seed, grunting raspily. 

He wobbled away from you and you whined at the sudden emptiness. He leaned against the table trying to catch his own breath, eyes still on your fucked out body on the table. Unconsciously, your hands went to the cloth on your eyes, almost getting out of the way but a cold hand on yours stopped you. You whined impatiently but before you had the chance to complain, the same hand grabbed a handful of your hips, dragging you out of the table until you stood on the ground.

There was this silence, the only thing in your mind being the amount of pleasure going through your veins, you could feel your heart hammering against your ribcage, your breathing uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly while you tried to ease your body. Your hands traveled to the body in front of you, holding his shoulders while he kept his firm on your hips. 

You had no idea who he was, you felt his body against yours, the familiar scent you were used to feeling but couldn’t recognize him. His hips met yours and you felt his hard cock against your core, making you moan. Taking your face with both of his hands he kissed you. His kiss was calm, soft even, nothing like the sexual spiral you just got out of. His hands explored the sides of your body with care, like you would vanish from his sight at any moment. 

The mess between your legs made you painfully aware of what just happened, either way his fingers found their way to your core, his tips exploring your folds, he coated his fingers in the your slick, the mixed cum inside your pussy, then he pushed his middle one all the way in, til he was knuckle deep inside you. You sobbed and threw your head back when he started to kiss down your jaw so you could give him more space.

His kisses met your neck, he circled your clit and that made you jerk in response. Suddenly his fingers were inside your mouth and you whined at the taste on your tongue. You started sucking on his fingers, obscenely licking through it and he groaned when under his breath, you licked him clean.

He stretched you out with his fingers, pumping in and out of you as he kissed down your chest, your body arching, right thigh rising up his waist opening up a little more for him. He curled his fingers up finding your sweet spot and making you see stars behind your eyelids. You started to grind down on his fingers while the sound of your moans resonated around the great hall. He licked down your collarbones and your legs started to shake, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

You felt like your body was on fire, shaking violently until the knot snapped and your orgasm hit you like a punch. You  clenched hard on his fingers, body falling limp on the table, but before you had the chance to ride your own high, your body was pushed and turned around, your back hitting his chest, you could feel his hard cock on your behind, listening while he struggled with his trousers, pulling down his legs til the middle of his thighs, just enough to free his cock from its confines. He teased you with the tip between your ass cheeks and you teased back, grinding on his hips, silently begging for him to just slide in. 

He lined his cock to your wet folds, enticing another moan from you and then he pushed in, his tip stretching your walls. You gasped, fingers holding the table for support while you felt him sliding only a few more inches in. His hand rubbed up your back until he grabbed the nape of your neck, you grunted feeling him leaning your body forward, your breasts pressed against the head of the table while he started to thrust up into you. 

He was fully inside you when he used his free hand to pinch on your clit, making your body jolt, your walls fluttered around him, a choked whine slipped through your lips as he went deeper. He picked up his pace quickly, hands now on your shoulders tugging your body back to meet his thrusts, your body trembling when you felt the pleasure building up once again, extremely sensitive from everything that already happened to you. You both moaned loudly, he was lost on you just like you were on him, every thrust was powerful and deep, stroking every nerve ending inside your pussy. His hips slapped against yours, the table shaking with his movements. 

“Gods…” You cried out, feeling the pressure on your lower belly. 

He cursed under his breath, feeling your walls clenching hard around his length, his own climax coming through while you felt the first impact of your orgasm. Your entire body froze as he fucked you through the haze, coming inside you a few seconds later. 

“That’s your idea of punishment?” Rollo growled, his voice far away like It was in another room, your mind still dizzy with pleasure. “Are you punishing me or her?” 

“Her?” Ragnar scoffed. “I’m not punishing her, brother. Watch It… She likes it. She wanted It.” 

You felt a pair of hands wrapping around your waist and your body was gently sat on the table again, the mess between your legs just growing by the minute, staining the soft skin of your thighs and leaving you slightly bothered. A kiss on your forehead had you trembling even more, so you raised your hand trying to hold his.

“Who…?” You couldn’t finish the phrase, but your hand was softly removed and you were left alone. 

“It’s done, I’m done!” Rollo tried one more time.

You heard Rollo’s begs one more time, his voice was shaky and you imagined his face. If you remembered correctly at this point he would be all red and sweaty and your tummy twisted with excitement, you shouldn’t like this as much as you were.  

“Well… We’re not.” Ragnar answered carefully. 

For a moment nothing happened, you sat there with your body trembling. The line between pleasure and pain was thin and your body had started to complain about It. Suddenly you felt someone taking the place between your legs one more time but despite being so tired, your mind seemed to have other plans, your skin prickled at the warmth engulfing you, another familiar scent wrapping your whole body. 

He didn’t waste any time, he kissed you… Kissed you like he craved you, feverishly. His lips moved in sync against yours while his hands roamed through your sweaty body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugged him with your legs feeling his hard cock against your abused cunt. You were too sensitive, your body was hot all over, and even though It was telling you It couldn’t take it any longer, your fucked out brain wanted more. 

You grinded against his hips and started to fumble with his trousers until you freed his cock from its confines. You grabbed at his length and he moaned in your mouth, waiting for you to align the head of his cock against the pulsing entrance of your pussy and you cried out at the new intrusion, feeling incredibly sore. 

Overwhelmed by pleasure, you started to grind against his hips again, urging him to fuck you. With both of his hands on your hips, he set an excruciatingly slow rhythm, distracting you with his mouth on your neck, he started to paint your skin in dark bruises. You cried again, threw your head back while letting your hands on his shoulders, digging your nails into his shoulders to anchor yourself, like his body was the only thing keeping you grounded, keeping you from floating away. 

With one of his hands, he started to play with your clit, massaging the sensitive nub between his fingers, dragging more mewls from your lips, making you writhe against his strong grip. His cock was unrelenting, picking up his pace as he started to fuck you hard and deep, your sensitivity only amplifying the waves of pleasure that crossed your veins. Your pussy fluttered around his length and he knew you were close, hips bucking to meet his thrusts, the spongy head of his cock was pressing directly against your g-spot and you moaned loudly. 

You felt his hand snaking up your chest until it found your neck and he pressed for a moment, your breath hitched, caught up in your throat and you clenched down on him. You got lightheaded and his thrusts became sloppier, you could feel he got lost in yourself very quickly and arousal twisted in your stomach, you felt flattered. 

He gave a chucked off groan and for a moment you imagined who it could be, which one of them was fucking you this time, the great hall was filled with his grunts and the wet squelch of your pussy. 

“Faster… Please…” You managed to mumble. 

Your pussy was clenching desperately around his cock and he was throbbing inside you, he was close too, you could feel it. He fucked you hard and faster until he sheated tightly into your pussy holding you in place as he came, triggering your own orgasm. You came so hard your mind went blank, your body spasmed and you went limp in his arms. He held you strongly so you wouldn’t fall, your head on his shoulders as you breathed heavily. He rubbed your back for a minute before he pulled out and after making you sure you were firm, sitting on the table, he left. 

“I-I… Ragnar…” You raised your hand blindly and seconds later you felt his fingers intertwined with yours.

“You’re doing great for me, my love.” He whispered, lips on your sweaty forehead. “Can you give me one more?”

“I don’t know…” You breathed.

“I know you can, you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He kissed your lips. “Give me one more so we can take care of you.” 

We. You noticed the weird choice of word and felt him when he kissed your knuckles. We. What did he mean by that? Your thoughts were cloudy when his warmth surrounded you again, he picked you up in his arms and you immediately wrapped yours around his neck, laying down your face on his shoulders, letting him carry you wherever. 

Ragnar sat you down on someone’s lap, when you felt a pair of shaky legs right under your body and nervous hands wrapping around your waist. He turned you around, made you put one of your knees on each side of that body and just like that he left. There was a nervous silence between you two, but you were close enough to feel his shaky breath against your cheeks. 

Suddenly, he used one of his hands to take off your blind fold, you blinked your tears away, trying to get used to the new brightness. You focused on the image in front of you and met Ivar’s widened eyes staring back at you. Ivar was nervous, but you could sense his arousal in the way that he watched you, intently following down your body, from your face to your collar bones and your chest, your soft belly and your exposed core, he gulped. 

You stayed like that for a moment, only looking at each other like you were trying to read each other’s minds, you almost forgot about the little crowd watching you two but as his eyes wandered over your shoulders you were reminded. 

“C-Can I kiss you?” He stuttered and you nodded dumbfounded. His lips touched yours slightly, shaky and cold, you didn’t kiss him back at first, then he pulled back, looking at you with a frown and a little pout. “You don’t want to…”

“No!” You were quick to respond. “I want to. I really want to, Ivar.” You reassured him and his expression softened.

You cradled his face between your hands and kissed him, this time deeply, your tongue teasing his as you felt his hands pressing on waist, pressing your body down. When you pulled away, he was gone, glossy eyes staring back at you as he choked out a whimper, following your face with his eyes still closed, reaching for your lips. 

He sighed and opened his eyes, he frowned again, so impatient. You touched his lips with your thumb, fluffy and wet from your last kiss and he licked the tip, you shuddered. Being that close he seemed so young to you, kinda lost in his own feelings and sensations, so different from the Ivar you knew, he always seemed so sure of himself. 

Ivar opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but as you rolled your hips down his lap he gasped, that seemed to erase every trace of thought in his head, he just closed his eyes and whimpered, throwing his head back. You used the chance to latch onto his neck, groaning quietly against his skin. Gods, you were soaked. It was definitely not like you hadn’t been fucked into oblivion by four men already, you were ready to get lost one more time. You licked his skin, sucked and nipped, leaving behind tiny red marks, basking in the sounds he was making. 

“Can I?” You asked him and he nodded, that was the only permission you needed to come back to his neck, to start rolling your hips over again. 

The rumors about the young man not being able to satisfy a woman were the biggest lie, you thought to yourself. You could feel him getting hard under your body and the thought of having him inside you was driving you mad. 

“I’m so wet for you, Ivar.” You murmured against his ear, only for him to hear you and he whimpered again, thrusting up his hips a bit. 

“For me?” He whispered breathlessly and you nodded, tracing his lips with your thumb again before kissing him feverishly. 

“Yes.” You grabbed his hand and put it between your bodies, his fingers met with your core, rubbing the mess of fluids on your pussy. “Will you help me?” 

He nodded, dumbfounded. You used your hand between your bodies to grab his cock and started jerking slowly, his lips parted as he gasped for air. The fact that these small touches were bringing so much pleasure to him was even more exciting to you. Your faces are so close you can feel his breath against your cheeks, your lips almost touch and his fingers trembled between your legs, nervously moving between your folds. 

Abruptly, you intensified your movements, he choked out a groan and closed his eyes, precum was leaking from his tip, making it easier for you to slide your hand up and down his cock, that pulsed and twitched in your hand. Quickly you moved it away, standing up a bit to line up his cock with your entrance, he looked at you like you were some sort of goddess, silently worshiping you, shaky hands wrapping around your waist as you sat down his length. 

“Gods… Please…” He groaned when he felt your warm walls engulfing him. 

You placed your hand on his shoulders as you fucked yourself over his cock, slowly moving your hips up and down. You brought his hand back down your body and started to use his fingers to massage your clit.

“Like this?” He asked in awe. 

“Yes…” You answered under your breath. 

Quickly you started to bounce on his cock, riding him like your life depended on it. The great hall was filled with Ivar’s small grunts and your breathy moans. You squeeze at his shoulders and threw your had back, he kept his fingers in your clit, drawing hard circles on your little nub just like you taught him and you could feel him twitching inside you, you knew he was close and so were you. 

You moaned with every thrust, you hunched over and kissed him, his arms wrapped around your waist and he pushed you down on his cock. You felt his release and he moaned loudly against your mouth. Your own high coming down hard on you as you clenched on him, cumming for what felt like the thousandth time that night. 

You laid down on his shoulder for a moment, trying to ease your breathing as you came down from your orgasm. He hugged you tightly, thumb drawing small circles on your back and you could fall asleep right there, you closed your eyes and your consciousness almost abandoned you for a moment, that’s when you felt someone taking you up from Ivar’s lap and you whined, feeling empty and sore. 

“I’ll take care of you.” Ragnar mumbled in your ear. “Take him out, we don’t want him here.” 

You imagined he was referring to Rollo who was finally silent, or maybe you just stopped listening to your surroundings. In Ragnar's arms you did fall asleep, waking up again only when you felt a warm cloth between your legs, you quickly moved away from the touch but was stopped by a pair of hands on your legs. 

“I’m just cleaning you up.” Ragnar told you and you opened your eyes, finding him sitting by your side, you looked around and recognized his bedroom, the furs were soft against your skin and you were extremely tired. 

“Was I good?” You asked under your breath, reaching out for his hand, which he really took, taking it to his lips, spreading kisses all over it. 

“So good...” He said it against your skin and you smiled tiredly. 

After cleaning you up he snuggled by your side, covering your bodies with fur and putting your head on his chest, rubbing your hair as you slowly fell back to sleep. 

“Our best girl.” Was the last thing you heard before drifting into slumber. 

***

#vikings fic #history vikings #ragnarssons #bjorn ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson #bjorn smut #ivar smut #ubbe smut #hvitserk smut #vikings imagine #hvitserk imagine #ivar imagine #ubbe imagine #bjorn imagine #ubbe x reader #ivar x reader #hvitserk x reader #bjorn x reader #reverse harem #alternate universe

[disasterofastory]

Relax (Ivar x Reader)

Relax Ivar x Reader Warnings: handjob

Summary: You help your husband relax.

You don't even bother with knocking. Every nerve in your body is on edge. Your heart is in your stomach, throbbing with worry and the need to see your husband. You can feel your insides turn. The door closes shut behind you with a loud thud. The walls shake for a second at the force. Both of them jump at the loud, sudden sound. Ivar's bright blue gaze lands on you with a raised brow. The thrall's eyes are wide and panicked. The pitcher with warm water is still in her hands. A few dark strands of her hair stick to her skin because of the steam that dominates the room. The air is heavy and suffocating with it. "I will help the King with his bath." Your voice is sharp and loud. You need a few deep breaths to check your feelings and change your tone. A gentle smile spreads across your face as you step next to the thrall to take the water from her. "Go to sleep," you tell her, making sure your tone is light and much nicer than before. She doesn't deserve to be at the end of your mood even though only worry, and tiredness makes you much more snappy than usual. "We all deserve some rest after this day." "Thank you, my Queen," she says before leaving.

Your attention wanders to Ivar, who still watches you without a word. New wounds and bruises decorate his skin. His dark hair is a mess of knots and braids. "How are you?" You ask him, pouring the still-warm water into the bath. "I'm fine," he replies. "It looks worse than it feels like." Putting down the pitcher, you grab a rag to soak it in the herb-smelling water before you kneel down next to him and start to wash away the dried blood and mud off his pale skin. His muscles jerk at your gentle touch before relaxing against the bathtub. A relieved sigh leaves his lips. "Did you kill him?" You ask after a few seconds. The satisfied smirk tells you the answer even before he forms it into words. "He will never bother us again." You nod. "I was worried." You knew the battle was inevitable, but when you saw the brightness in Ivar's eyes, you couldn't help but think of the worst all day. Seeing Ivar coming back through the gates of Kattegat was such a relief you almost fell onto your knees at the view of him. "I'm fine," he hums, grabbing your hand to kiss your palm. "I will always come back to you." "You can't know that," you argue. You watch the small droplets of water running down his broad shoulders. Your lips find the fresh bruise on his shoulder blade. Your fingers run up to his hair to get rid of the ruined braids. His head falls back against your touch.

"What's wrong?" You ask him after a while, washing out the soap from his hair. Your nostrils are filled with the smell of herbs you mixed together just for him. It always calms him down and puts him in a better mood. Well, almost always. "I don't know," he replies, fidgeting. The water ripples around him with every move. "My head... There is too much thing going on in my head." A smirk pulls on your lips as you adjust yourself at his side. Your head rests on your arm on the edge of the bathtub. Your other hand plays with the surface of the water. It's still warm. "I can help, my husband," you tell him. "If you want." You don't even wait for his answer. The pleading glint in the depth of his bright blue eyes is enough for your to move your hand to his chest. Pressing your hand against his chest, you feel his heart beating for long seconds. The thuds are strong and stubborn.

He is already half-hard when you reach down in the water. Your fingers curl around his shaft easily, and you can feel him twitch in your firm hold. A trembling breath leaves Ivar's lips. A smirk pulls on yours. The curve of his cock is familiar as you run your fist up and down his length a few times before releasing him to tease him a bit. He hisses at the feeling. Your finger smooths down on the underside of his erection until you reach his balls. "Y/N!" He groans out your name. His hoarse voice goes straight to your pussy, making your thighs clench for some friction. You keep your eyes on him the whole time. You still don't understand how a vicious man like Ivar can be so beautiful. His cheeks are dark pink, almost matching the shade of his lips. "You are so pretty," you state, and Ivar smirks through the bliss. "Squeeze me, wife." A moan follows his words when you do as he says. You palm him, curling your fingers around his shaft again to pump his length firmly. Your thumb traces the head of his cock, slipping up to the small hole. The grip of Ivar's hold on the edge of the bathtub is so tight you can almost hear the wood creaking. His chest moves up and down rapidly as he gulps down the air to bring it back into several moans and groans. "Kiss me," you order him, leaning closer to him. "Kiss me, husband." He doesn't even open his eyes when he brings his lips against yours. The movement is clumsy at first, with all teeth and tongue. Ivar is so deep in his own pleasure, he doesn't fight back when you start to dominate the kiss. You lick his lips, following the soft curve of his bottom lip and tangling your tongue with his into a fierce dance. Your free hand finds the back of his head, gripping his wet hair between your fingers. His groan is muffled and vibrates in your throat. Your pussy pulses and aches, meanwhile, Ivar gets closer and closer to his orgasm. You can read him like an open book, and when you are sure he is close to the edge, you make your hand move faster on his cock while pulling on his hair at the same time. His erection jerks in your hold as he cums with several shots.

"Can you help me out?" He asks after a few minutes. His breath is still rapid. "I'm not done with you yet."

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless smut #ivar smut #vikings smut #vikings x reader #vikings imagine

[starogeorgina]

Redemption

Warning: Swearing, smut, hints of violence

Pairing: Ivar × reader

1.01

“Ivar!”

“What?” He whines like a child before placing a soft kiss on your bare hip and pouting up at you, his lips still slightly red and swollen from kissing you so roughly. “I told you I wanted us to have a child of our own,” he states, pushing himself further down the bed so he can have a full view of your own puffy lips. Ivar had a fascination with watching his cum drip out of you. He would often try to push it back in with his fingers or clean you up with his tongue. “I want to see you around with my child, a creation of our love.”

“I know you do.” You let out a soft groan when his finger lightly brushes over your clit. “But I’m so sensitive, I just need a moment to…”

“You’ve spilled too much of my seed,” he says, ignoring what you previously said. “I’ll need to put more inside you if we wish for this to work.”

“Hmm… fuck!” You moan loudly as he places a strong hand on either side of your head before thrusting himself inside you for the third time that evening.

Fucking was one of your favourite things to do, but Ivar would push you to the point of exhaustion with how many orgasms he gave you. He always made sure you came at least once before fucking you into oblivion.

—

You nip at Ivar’s bare chest with your teeth, and he flinches slightly, causing you to giggle. Burying your face into his neck, you mumble, “How long will you be gone for?”

“I am unsure, but I will return to you,” he says, kissing the back of your knuckles, “to our family as a proud man, not as a cripple.”

Shuffling into a more comfortable position on your back, you let out a huff. You understood why Ivar needed to go to England with his father, but you still didn’t like it. Usually you remained close by his side, but being pregnant, you decided to stay behind in Kattegat, despite Ragnar asking you to join them personally. Queen Aslaug had a dream of her husband and son drowning because of a storm, but neither of them cared much for her warning, so you tried not to worry too much; you needed to believe Ivar would always find his way back to you. Letting out a deep sigh, your hand moves to cradle your ever-growing bump.

“My sweet, sweet Drifa, I can see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you I will not die on this journey.”

“You better not; I’ll need you by my side when I deliver our child. I don’t want to do it alone.”

“You won’t be alone. If I’m not here, my brothers and mother will remain by your side.”

“I know,” you say, toying with strands of fur from the blanket covering your chest, “but they aren’t you.”

Ivar kisses the crown of your head, stroking your hair as you start to fall asleep. There was no possible way he could assure you he wouldn’t die, but he would try to comfort you the best he could. You’d grown up alongside the sons of Ragnar, with your mother and Aslaug being so close, so you’d known Ivar all your life. You had considered him your closest friend before any romantic relationship had developed between you, but the flames of desire had been burning ever since he killed a boy who tried to force himself on you.

It would absolutely break your heart if Ivar didn’t return home.

—

You opened your eyes, scanning the dimly lit room to see where the sound in the distance was coming from. You saw nothing but recognised the heavy breathing as your husband's, so you closed your eyes again. Leaning your head back, you try to enjoy the warmth surrounding your body as Ivar drags himself into the room. You had the slaves fill you with a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing continuously to wash away the blood that stained your skin. Your thighs and groin were red and raw, but you continued to clean each time you saw the blood from your miscarriage reappear.

It seemed like the right decision at the time to remain in Kattegat, but you were there when the village came under attack and witnessed Lagertha killing Aslaug while her back was turned. Moments later, you fell to the ground, screaming as a pain ripped through your lower abdomen as you lost your unborn child.

Lagertha had spared your life after you attempted to kill her by throwing an ax at her head. She thought that by letting you live, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t seek revenge for their mother. Oh, how wrong she was.

“They say being in water so warm isn’t good for you, my love.” Your husband says he's propping himself up by his arms, leaning them on the side of the tub so he’s level with you.

You shrug.

“I can have one of the slaves help you get out and dressed if you’re in too much pain.”

Shaking your head, you press your forehead against Ivar’s. To most, he was a sadist and bloodthirsty man, nothing more than a man who craved violence to fill the void in his heart, but he had never treated you with anything but kindness and respect. Ivar found the love he always craved from you in spite of others thinking your relationship would fail. Since Margarethe spread rumors claiming Ivar couldn’t please a woman sexually, the other sons of Ragner enjoyed teasing Ivar, saying it wouldn’t be long until you left him for someone else, not that you ever would.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, I want to stay in here until the water cools down.”

Ivar brushes damp hair behind your ear as tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Perhaps the gods took our child early so that my mother wouldn’t be alone.”

“Perhaps,” you sob. Ivar had been furious upon learning of his mother's death and had sworn to kill Lagertha one day, but he was trying his best to contain his rage around you. “Queen Aslaug deserved better. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened to her, but her death will be avenged.”

“We will have our revenge on Lagertha, but for now we will bid our time. First you will regain your strength, then we will have revenge on those who are responsible for my father's death, and then we will have retribution for what happened to my mother.”

—

A mixture of dampness and thick smoke hung heavily in the air as you stepped outside for the first time in days. Hiding away wasn’t going to change what happened, and you wanted to at least appear strong on the outside. The first person to greet you is Ubbe, who pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry, Drifa; I know how happy you and Ivar were to finally start a family of your own.”

Hvitserk hugs you next but says nothing. Behind you, Sigurd makes a crude comment about Ivar losing his mommy and then his surrogate mommy right after. You keep your composure, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Sigurd had attempted to seduce you several times since you married his brother, but each time you rejected him, making him bitter towards you.

“That’s enough,” Ubbe snaps.

Irritated, your fingers tap against one of the tables loudly, gaining all of the brothers attention. You narrow your eyes at Sigurd as your fingers slide over the selection of weapons already laid out on the table for the purpose of gutting fish.

“Just ignore him,” Hvitserk says, attempting to calm you down. “My brother is just jealous; he doesn’t even have a woman to stick his cock in.”

“Is that right, Sigurd? You are making jokes at the expense of my dead child because your dick is lonely? I’m sure we could find a nice pig for you.”

His face reddens with embarrassment when his brothers all laugh at him. “You’re nothing but a whore; we all know Ivar couldn’t possibly be the father of that thing that was growing inside you. He isn’t man enough.”

“Do not insult Ivar in front of me!”

“Why? Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit about a cripple.”

You grab hold of the knife next to you and aim it at Sigurd. The edge of the knife scrapes across the side of his face, cutting it in the process. When Sigurd goes to take a step towards you, Ubbe steps in between you and says, “No more; you’ve upset our sister enough for one day.”

Another reason Sigurd hates you is because his family accepts you as one of their own. Aslaug treated you like a daughter, and his brothers were very protective of you. They admired your loyalty to Ivar.

“I am counting down the days until my husband finally kills you!” You hiss.

Hearing a laugh, you turn your head back to see Ivar observing the scene with a smile on his face. He had managed to crawl so quietly that nobody noticed him sitting on the opposite side of the table from where you stood. He claps his hands in amusement and says, “Isn’t she fantastic? Beautiful and violent.” Ivar licks his lips before sitting back in the chair. “Now, let us begin to plan our next move.”

Ivar motions for you to come over to him; when you do, he guides you till you’re sitting atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around your back while your legs dangle over his. He kisses your cheek and says, “Good girl, your aim is getting better.”

Admittedly, you weren’t the best at welding a weapon or firing an arrow until Ivar decided to teach you. You whisper, “I still think I’ll need a few more one-on-one lessons.”

He smirks before turning his attention to his brothers, who seem unfazed by you sitting on his lap, all aside from Sigurd, whose glare is burning into you.

#Ivar #ivar x reader #Ivar smut #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #Ivar x you #ivar fanfic #vikings ivar #vikings smut #vikings x reader #ivar ragnarsson #redemption #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x you #Ivar the boneless smut #Ivar the boneless/reader #Ivar the boneless/you

[phenomenal1500]

~In The Gods' Favor~

Masterlist

A/N: This is a combined request asked by three anons on Tumblr. I felt like these requests could fit together perfectly and I hope you all like it!

Summary: Reader is stuck in an arranged marriage with Harald and sees his scars by the Pechenegs for the first time.

Timeline: Season 2, after the Pechenegs.

Pairing: Harald Sigurdsson x Fem!Reader Warning: Smut, breeding kink, arranged marriage.

Sitting in the gorgeously decorated great hall in Kattegat, Y/N was watching the Norsemen feasting and celebrating because of her marriage with the new king of Norway. However, everything didn't sit right with her.

How could other people be happy at such a time but her?

She knew who she married. King Harald had made sure to meet and spend time with her before their marriage so she wouldn't feel overwhelmed marrying a stranger, but happiness? That she couldn't express at this hour.

Perhaps it was because she was closed off to new opportunities or perhaps because she had built a wall so she didn't have to let him in, but she simply couldn't be excited even though she had to admit the norseman was besides attractive also very lovely and caring.

"You're doing alright, sæta?" King Harald slowly dropped himself beside her on the small bench that she had been sitting on all evening now.

"I think I'm doing fairly well." She nodded and looked back at the exciting and hopeful crowd again.

"We're giving them hope." He whispered, laying his large hand on her lower back. "We must think about that."

"I've never been much of a leader." She admitted, for the first time not backing away or pushing his hand away either. Sooner or later things had to get more heated between the two so a simple loving touch didn't bother her so much anymore. "These people.. they aren't my people."

"After today they are, love." He slowly rubbed her back and tried to make her look at him. "They're as much my people as they are yours."

"Out of everyone, why me?" She finally pulled her eyes off the crowd and back to her husband.

"You seemed sweet and very quick-witted." He smiled. "And from the moment they introduced you, I knew you would stand by me proudly."

"I'm not standing anywhere yet." She may have already been royal before they married, but since she was the youngest of her sisters, she had never been taught how to be a proper queen. She didn't trust herself to lead a country yet.

"You will soon." He gently lifted her hand to his lips and gave the back of it a soft kiss. "Trust me when I say you were born for this."

"I trust you." She slowly nodded and had a slight blush on her cheeks.

"That's all that matters." He gently lifted her chin with his index finger before he closed the gap between them, catching her lips with his as he pulled her in for a slow passionate kiss.

"King Harald." She panted softly after she pulled away, cheeks even redder.

"Not the right moment?" He stroked her hair, letting her decide for herself if she wanted to continue the kiss. He wasn't going to force her into anything. That wasn't like him. If the kiss wasn't what she wanted, Harald would apologize right away.

"No, it's not that." She cleared her throat nervously, but instantly relaxed in his touch. "However, perhaps we should go somewhere more private?"

"Is that really what you wish for, Y/N?" He whispered, cupping her face with his hands.

"I think so." She was a bit uncertain, but she preferred some alone time with the man anyway. The crowd only made her feel more pressured to show forced love to him, and if the traditions were true, after the wedding celebrations six people would accompany them to their bridal bed and she would rather experience things alone with him before that.

"Come on then, sæta." He got up and held out his hand which she took without any hesitation.

She wanted to be out of there badly and especially if it meant exploring her feelings with him before anyone would witness it.

She couldn't imagine how forced and hurried that would be like.

The king brought her to their now shared bedroom, helping her inside before he closed and locked the door so no one could get in and harm them. "You're certain about this my queen?" He questioned again, just to reassure himself that she wanted this too and he wasn't forcing her into anything. He had been raised to respect and care for his women, no matter if it was an arranged marriage and they had to by tradition.

For him and a lot of other Norsemen, unlike the men from England, it was important both sides wanted this.

"Yes, I'm sure of my decision, Harald." She smiled a little, feeling soothed by the way he made sure she was okay with such a thing at all times.

"Come over here, gorgeous~." He returned the sweet smile and watched the woman obey him, carefully closing the gap between them herself now.

Right when she took the last step towards him, she could feel his warm lips on hers again. Tongue playfully exploring her mouth, he sneaked his arms around her thighs and picked her up that way, holding her close to him.

She had to admit it made her feel feelings she never thought she was capable of feeling and here she was, experiencing them with a man she actually started to desire.

"My king~?" She blushed and cupped his face, staring deeply into his darkened eyes filled with lust.

"You're allowed to only say my name, Ketta. You are my wife, not an unknown person to me." He spoke against her lips softly and she nodded.

"Harald~?" She licked her lips slowly to taste more of him when he carefully laid her down on her back.

"What is it?" He made sure to caress every inch of her body, starting with kissing her shoulders as he unlaced the laces of her dress located between her breasts. It instantly made her feel flustered, but didn't stop him and he didn't stop either.

Lust was slowly taking over~ they needed each other badly.

"I desire you." She felt her heart speed up a bit when he took off her dress more with every kiss. It even doubled its speed when his hands and lips finally found her breasts, fingers trailing up and down her breasts before rolling her hardened nipples between his fingers and kissing the valley between them. It instantly caused a strange sensation in her body and she suddenly felt the wet heat worsen between her legs.

"I desire you too, ketta." He muttered against her soft skin, hands moving down to her sides and down to her hips as he pushed the fabric further down.

There she was, bare and open to him.

He had to admit it made his cock grow solid in his trousers right away when he saw her gorgeous body, but he was holding himself back and keeping himself calm.

He wasn't a quick-fuck type of guy, he wanted to treat her like the queen she was.

Despite how he felt about how beautiful she was, she herself was slightly anxious. Nobody had ever seen her without clothes, let alone this vulnerable too, and especially after he slowly spread her legs.

"All I'm asking of you is to loosen up and let me take care of her, sæta, that way it'll feel the best."  He ran his fingers over her wet pussy lips to worship it gently and pulled his hand back again. He knew he had to be careful with her and that's why he needed her to relax for him.

"I'll try my best, Harald." She mumbled, nibbling on her lower lip as he suddenly got on his knees in front of her. "What~ what are you doing?"

"It's okay, my love~." He reassured her as his lips touched her inner thigh, giving it sloppy wet kisses as he trailed his way up to the place that needed to be touched the most.... The place that was aching and begging for nobody but his touch.

"Please." She panted softly, letting the small beg roll of her tongue before she could stop herself. She honestly didn't really know what she was begging for, but it made him chuckle and before she knew it he was giving her clit a loving kiss too. Her chest immediately went up and down faster because of it and the pleasure that shocked through her body increased especially when he wrapped his lips around it and gently started to suck.

That brought her to Valhalla right away.

"Mmhmm~." Y/N arched her back, loving the new delightful feelings as he licked her up, giving her wet pussy long and slow licks before going back to sucking. "Harald~."

"I know, ketta." Harald growled, his hands stroking her inner thighs as he dove right back into her ocean. "I know it feels good." He spoke straight into her core, her whole body shivering because of it.

He needed her ready for him.

He needed this to feel good for her.

Lifting her legs and resting them over his shoulders, he licked her insides a little faster. He wanted her pretty pink pussy more than soaked and ready to take all of him and in no time her legs were already shaking.

He knew she was close, but unfortunately for his beautiful wife he wasn't going to make her cum so soon.

Harald pulled back, his beard covered in her juices, but he didn't care. His eyes landed on his wife again, her pretty eyes filled with lust and her cheeks having this cute red tone, she was so precious to him. "You prefer to have all of me?"

"Yes. I would love to have all of you." She smiled after she managed to get out of her stunned embarrassed state. This was all new to her and seeing him this shameless was unusual so of course it was normal she had to get used to the barefaced activities.

She slowly sat up though and actually managed to help her husband take off his armor before her eyes suddenly landed on the horrifying scars on his chest.

"What happened...?" She raised her hand and carefully outlined them with her fingers.

"It happened before I was crowned king of Norway. A man named Vitomir promised to pay me and my friend Leif a lot of treasure if we could deliver something to the emperor in Constantinople." He proudly explained while he unlaced his trousers. "But there were many Pecheneg camps settled along the shores we sailed."

"Pechenegs...?" Her eyes shot up to his deep hazel ones, staring at him with a slightly dropped jaw.

If there was anything she heard about Pechenegs, it was that they were extremely violent, well, they loved giving their enemies a tough time.

It was a wonder Harald was still alive.

"Yes, Pechenegs." He nodded and crawled on top of her in a hot way, his hands resting on either side of her head to keep his body weight off of her. "The cowards pierced my skin and string me up by my chest to see how much it would take for me to beg for mercy, but I never did."

Y/N listened closely to the king, but actually focused more on the ugly scars.

"Do they still hurt..?" She pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss each scar.

"No, neither do my muscles." He kissed her forehead. "So do not worry about me. We're not here together and bare to worry about my injuries."

"I know." She suddenly blushed again when she felt his hard cock pressing against her thigh. She then wrapped her arms around his neck while her legs spread some more on their own to make room for him between them. "I can feel that we aren't here for that."

"You want it~?" He teased playfully, rubbing his tip between her wet folds which got her body squirming with need.

"Yes, please Harald." She begged, her eyes never leaving his as he grabbed her hand and brought it down to touch his perfectly curved cock.

God, he would be able to hit every spot so well.

"Guide him, love." He let her feel around his already rock hard cock, jerking him a little, and he loved the way she was too embarrassed to look down at what she was doing. It was adorable.

"Guide him...? I don't know how." She whispered, glaring down for a second as he gave her a hint, pressing his tip softly against her tight entrance.

It made her bite her lip, nervous at the sight of him so close to her dripping pussy.

"Right there, guide him in ketta." He whispered in her ear, kissing her neck afterwards while she slowly guided him inside of her tight entrance.

Harald could feel her body protest by the unfamiliar stretch, but he could also tell she wanted this so badly by the way her walls were clenching and throbbing around his big cock.

Slowly, he moved his hips forward into hers, feeling her pussy trying to adjust to just his thick tip as she closed her eyes.

"How are you feeling, love?"

"Wonderful, strange, a slight sting as well perhaps?" She named everything she was experiencing so he could understand what she was feeling and his large hands rubbed her hips to help her body relax again.

"It'll feel like Valhalla soon." He groaned deeply, his cock sinking deeper inside of her while she nuzzled his neck. "And the more we do this, sæta, the better it'll feel for her."

"Really~?" She smiled and gasped when Harald repositioned her hips to a different angle that made his cock go deeper.

"Yes~ and if the gods are in our favor, we might be granted lots of children as well." He wrapped one of his arms around her arched back to keep her that way while he thrusted a bit faster, the curve of his cock brushing against her spot perfectly over and over again.

"I'd love to have your children one day." She moaned softly, tightening her walls around him.

"I know you do." He smirked and reached down between their sweating bodies, fingertips stroking that small bundle of nerves to help send her over the edge. "It's alright, ketta~ let it go and give me what I want so I can give you my seed and have you bear my children."

Her body began to shake by his words and she couldn't suppress her loud moans anymore. This feeling, the feeling that was so right and wrong at the same time was just too enjoyable.

She and her body couldn't take much more of it honestly.

Inhaling deeply, the woman gave into the strange yet delightful feeling and finally the knot of pleasure exploded, the wonderful feelings coursing through her entire body as she clung to her husband.

"Harald~ oh gods." She smiled and panted, feeling his cock twitch against her spot before he came deep inside of her and coated her tight walls with his seed.

"You felt so perfect, my queen." He buried his face on the crook of her neck, leaving short loving kisses there while he slowly thrusted his cum deeper into her.

"So what now, my king?" She spoke softly not to interrupt the peace they both felt and he carefully pulled out.

"We go back to the feast and make sure we do this again at the end of our wedding~ hoping my seed will take soon." He smiled and gently helped her stand up so he could redress her.

#harald hardrada #harald sigurdsson #Harald #Harald sigurdsson x reader #vikings valhalla #vikings imagine #requests #smut #fluff #angst #slight breeding kink #arranged marriage #in the gods’ favor

[ubbesbabymama]

Their friend is pregnant.

↳ Pairing. Ragnar Lothbrok, Björn Ironside, Ubbe Ragnarsson.

↳ Summary. How would they react to their dear friend being pregnant.

↳ Warnings. Violence, death, abusive relationships.

↳ Note. I imagine this with them having the same kind of friendship that Ragnar had with Athelstan but with the reader. Let me know if y’all want me to make an individual part of any of these explaining further the dynamics.

Part two.

Ragnar Lothbrok.

He hasn’t seen you in several months and he starts to get worried because for one, you didn’t even come to the dock to greet him after another successful raid and two, you know damn well he doesn’t like to go for so long without talking to you when he is in Kattegat. He learns too much with you.

He knocks on your door one time before letting himself in like he owns it, and that he does of course. He’s the king.

“I just want to know why you haven’t even… oh,” He looks at you with wide eyes, looking down at the small round belly that has started to become prominent.

You look at him expressionless, your eyes filling with tears, he gets to you in two big steps and pulls you into his arms, one hand on the back of your neck and the other grabbing your arm so you can put it around his waist.

“My sweet dear friend, what’s the matter?” He murmurs and you sob.

“I missed you so much, o-oh for the love of Odin, my friend is here.” You cry on his chest.

“Of course I am, I’ll always come back to you,” He assures you.

You look up to him.

“I am with child,” You say and he snorts.

“I can very much see that,” He jokes but his smile vanishes when he sees the pain in your face.

“And he hates it, he hates it so much Ragnar,” You sob. “He said it’s not his child, he swears it’s yours.”

He laughs and walks with you under his arm to your bed, softly falling down and letting you get comfortable on his chest.

“I have to say, it does sounds appealing to bear a child with you,” You snort and sob softly. “But we have never had sex, for you rejected me when I asked you.”

“You wanted me to lay with you when we were camping and getting ready for a war back in the day, it wasn’t the time,” You roll your eyes. “He says my plan all along was to seduce you to become queen of—,”

“Does he even know that you’re the uncrowned queen of Kattegat?” He laughs. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll be the child’s father.”

“Why did I have the suspicion that you would say that when the time of me carrying a child come?” You ask with a small smile and he kisses your head.

“He can’t come near you anymore, he lost his chance.” He explains.

You close your eyes, forgetting everything that made you cry and remembering that Ragnar will always be there for you.

Björn Ironside.

He frowns when you rush into his tent in what seems desperation, he grabs your shoulders to stop you.

“Wow, wow, wow, stop right there,” He says, and when you look at him his whole face changes. “Who did this to you?”

You have a cut on your lip and your cheek is starting to get swollen from a hard slap.

“Björn—,”

“I am not going to ask a third time, Y/N, who did this to you?” He grunts.

“Knud,” You whisper and you step in front of him when he is about to start walking, looking him right in the eye. “Björn.”

“I am going to break his arms, move.” He grunts.

“Björn, I am with child.” You snap, smacking his chest softly so he can pay attention to you.

He looks at you surprised, blinking a few times before slowly sliding his hands all over your belly.

“That’s wonderful, little one.” He whispers and your bottom lip trembles. His face suddenly turns cold. “Which means it’s going to be worse for him.”

He walks around you and out of the tent in the blink of an eye, you sigh and sit down for a few seconds on his bed, your state making things such as standing very tiresome.

After some minutes you stand up and go out looking for your friend, finding him close to the woods with a crowd around him. When you get close you realize that the father of your child is tied up to a tree while Björn is shooting arrows at him, missing on purpose to get him more scared. The whispers of the others are what makes Björn look behind his back, he smiles at you.

“Come here, my sweet one.” He says with feigned happiness, you stand on his side, ignoring the man on the tree on purpose.

“Yes?”

“What do you want from him? His leg? An arm?” He asks you entertained.

“I—,”

“Y-Y/N, p-please! Forgive me! I-I didn’t mean t-to, it was the ale!” The man cries.

“You hurt her while she’s with child and you think ale is the perfect excuse to give me? me?” Björn asks with humor, raising his arms and shooting an arrow right on top of the man's knees, smiling when he screams in pain. “Try again.”

“F-Forgive me for saying that it is not my child, I-I know you haven’t laid with n-no one else, I misunderstood your relationship with lord Björn,” The man cries in pain, sobbing like a child, he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Y/N p-please.”

You look at Björn and give him an enigmatic smile that he understands all too well.

“My friend, I could use a liver, maybe a heart,” You tell him and he hums.

“All you have to do is ask,” He says, shooting right into the man’s heart, watching the life leave his body. “Like that?”

“Like that.” You snort.

Ubbe Ragnarsson.

He’s sure the gods put you in his life with a purpose, because the amount of love and happiness he feels when he’s around you cannot be normal.

He was walking around Kattegat with a smile, watching his people do their own thing and being proud of the stability that they have now thanks to a lot of his, his father and his brothers' sacrifices. He sees you and frowns when he takes in your expression, walking a little faster to get to you.

“That fucking child is not mine!” The man, whom he knows you tend to lay with from time to time, was shouting in your face. “Find the father of that child because it is not mine.”

“Well, last time I checked I am not the Christian Holy Mary to have a child from a god,” You snap at him. “Who else’s child would—?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the prince,” The man accuses you and you gasp, he starts to point his finger at you, every time touching your shoulder in an accusatory manner. “Why don’t you go and tell him that you’re with child, uhm? Since you’re so proud of being his main whore—,”

The man can’t continue his speech because he is interrupted by Ubbe yanking him from the back. Ubbe walks to him slowly, sighing to control his dark thoughts and straddling the man. He starts to calmy destroy the man’s face, smacking him with his open hand, punching him with his fist, with his own head. You crouch down beside him at a considerable space in order to not get punched by accident, with your hand under your chin, watching your prince make a mess out of the poor man that thought he could disrespect you and continue on his day like nothing happened.

“You think you’re too good to put a child on her? Don’t be stupid, you should be grateful that you even had the opportunity to be inside of her,” Ubbe grunts, watching the man’s face unrecognizable now.

He cleans his hands on the man’s shirt and stands up, walking to you and bending his knees a little to take you in his arms. You hum and slide your hands around his neck.

“I would’ve expected Ivar to lose control like that, even Hvitserk, but you?” You murmur into his ear and he chuckles.

“I’m Viking, love,” He says as if that explains the little number he just pulled.

When he enters the Great Hall he walks directly to a chair and sits with you sitting sideways on top of him, he caresses your back distractedly while playing with your hand with his other hand.

“I’m a little scared,” You confess and he looks at you. “It’s my first child, I’m not even married and he already made sure to let me know that he will not be—,”

“You don’t need nobody but me,” He says firmly, confidence emanating from his body. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ubbe, you have your own obligations with Kattegat,” You try to reason with him.

“And still, I’ll be here for you,” He whispers, pulling you to his chest and slowly sliding his hand onto your belly, you put your own on top of his. “Every step you take, I’m taking it with you, my dear friend.”

“I know you will,” You whisper and kiss the side of his head.

#vikings #vikings imagine #vikings ivar #vikings ubbe #ivar vikings #vikings hvitserk #vikings headcanons #ivar ragnarsson #ragnar lothbrok #sigurd vikings #bjorn imagine #bjorn ironside #bjorn ironside imagine #vikings reactions

[deceitfuldevout]

Play Me a Tragedy

Dark!Ivar x Wife!Reader

Word Count: +2416

Warning(s): +18, Forced Marriage, Kidnapping, Mentions of past non con, Raiding, Forced pregnancy.

Author's Note(s): Y'all should know by now I'm all for the dramatics.

You and your husband, King Ivar, have been invited to a play. Accompanied by your children to celebrate your wedding anniversary. Filled with entertainment, games, and a feast. But it wasn't just any day, no. This was the day your entire world fell apart. When you were taken from your home, and everyone you loved. All to celebrate what was you considered to be the worst day of your life.

There had been stories told throughout the feast. Every last one of them stroked your husband's never-ending ego. Within only a few years, Ivar had gained a large mass of devoted followers who were willing to die for him and his cause. With that kind of power given to a mad man such as himself, of course it would go to his head.

Ivar convinced the people of Kattegat of his new world order. That if they follow him and him only would they achieve Valhalla. It was more a cult if anything. He made his people believe that you were his very own 'deity'. He claimed that you were made especially for him by the gods. That the two of you were destined for one another, as a way for Ivar to justify his actions. Even after being given the title of 'Queen', you had no say in politics. You were a glorified broodmare. There wasn't a single day that passed where Ivar wouldn't claim ownership over you. He would dress you himself in the finest silks and jewels during the day. By nigh. he would ravage you until the morning.

After the birth of your first child, you had finally broken. Willingly following his orders, knowing that there would be no one else to protect you and your child. Ivar was glad to claim you were finally his. Body and soul. Now proven with his cub. He would remind you everyday to be grateful that it was him who found you first. In his own words, "Who knows how it would end with any other man, this is what's best for you.", That you should be thanking him. Deep down you knew if it were another warrior, they'd tear you apart. After all, it was your husband's status that gave you access to such a luxurious life. A gilded cage fit for a queen.

Today he was obnoxiously louder than usual. His voice booms throughout the dining hall. The entertainers had saved the best story for last. 'A Tale of a Fallen Kingdom.' they called it. There were actors in costume to represent Ivar and his warriors. It only took a moment to realize which day they were reenacting.

The narrator clears his voice before beginning, "Five years ago, to this day..." he states, "King Ivar and his men visit a Kingdom, untouched by war and plague." it was then when the crowd decided to spew their distaste towards your people. Spewing insults and curses at your country's flag. Your brows furrow as your eyes widen. Had that much time really pass? Surely it hadn't been that long...it felt as though you'd been 'married' for almost a decade. But then again only a year with Ivar felt like forever.

It was almost unreal how accurate their clothes were. It had been a while since you'd seen someone dressed in your people's clothes. From the stage setup, to the costume design. It was like a memory had been extracted and put on display. You tear up at the sight of it. Truly missing your home more than ever. Part of you wasn't sure your family were still alive. There was a young maiden dressed in modest clothing. Not just any garb no, it was specifically designed for a lady in waiting. A title you were given from being the general's daughter. There your character stood, following the other meek women of the royal court.

You were portrayed as a ditzy, clumsy little thing. Who couldn't fend to save her life. Scoffing at the display, you turn to face Ivar who had found it all amusing. You roll your eyes. Did he truly find this mockery entertaining? It was obviously a political tool. Then your mind began racing. Was this truly how the people of Kattegat view you? That you were willing to betray your own people so easily. All to become Ivar's own personal whore. Your blood began to boil. This wasn't a love story but a tragedy. The young man dressed as Ivar lets out a triumphant laugh. Your counterpart had depicted you as an absolute moron, who craved the attention of a man that would give a second glance.

You scoff at the display. Out of all your ladies in court, you were the most educated. That's how you captured Ivar's interest. He had been fascinated by your intelligence. It was rare for women in your kingdom to seek an education, let alone willingly. Your parents supported you furthering your studies alongside the men. No one would question their general's only child.

Ivar used to sneak in a few pieces of literature for you to read. The next time he summoned you was for a game of chess. To his surprise you'd beaten him, his entire demeanor had shifted. He partially blames himself for underestimating a woman of these lands. But then again, not many were educated here. It was at the moment where his final decision was made, he had to have you.

Soon enough the audience follows with boisterous laughs. 'Ivar' releases his crutches before making an exaggerated dive for the woman. She squeals, "No no~you handsome heathen!" squealing as the man began to 'ravage' her. You felt a deep pit of despair, falling ill at the sight of their performance. Ivar on the other hand, was ecstatic. He indulged in the portrayal of himself, covering the growing smirk behind his cup. As the narrator continues, "How will the poor maiden survive such a world?" announcing it to the crowd.

It was then when the women clings onto 'Ivar' as if her life depended on it, "Please! King Ivar! Take me! Take me away from this boring life! Make a woman of me!" the woman boasts as she rips her blouse open, "I'm yours!" She lifts her skirts in a seductive manner. You felt sick to your stomach. This is not what happened, not at all. You had a life, a family that you were taken from.

You remember clawing at his face, hard enough to break skin. Ivar hisses from the sting. He lifts your shoulders and slams you against the ground. You felt dizzy from the impact. Air escaping your lungs as you cough to catch breath. Your vision blurs for a moment before realizing he'd already ripped through your blouse. He skillfully cuts through the garment, lifting your skirts to make way.

You despised Ivar's efforts at keeping a heroic image in public. Angry tears fell down your face. Because you, of all people, knew the truth. You have scars to bear with. From the leather bindings that burned into your wrists during that cursed wedding night, to the following months after. How he'd bound you to bed like an animal, until he was sure you were with child.

Ivar chuckles at your eldest son's discomfort. Seeing his parents being depicted as very passionate lovers. He rubs his head, "Someday you will also become a man." causing the four year old to gag. Ivar doesn't wince when your second born sits on his lap. She adores her father. Of course it was easy being the apple of his eye, and at times, she uses it to her advantage.

Every time you'd scold her, she'd run into her father's arms. You on the other hand despised his efforts at keeping a heroic image. When it was clear as day he was not to be trusted. The same hands that held your daughter close, were used to slaughter hundreds.

Seeing such a mockery being displayed to your children made your heart shatter. Tears began to trickle as you sob in silence. Your daughter notices and leaves her father to comfort you. Ivar is too absorbed into the play to pay attention. He lets out a boastful laugh, clutching his sides as the crowd roaring continues. It was during the king's coronation when the Northmen attacked.

Ivar and his men raided the other surrounding kingdoms. As a peace offering they were invited to the ceremony. Little did your leader know what sinister actions would play out. Ivar and the young king had been in talks for a peace treaty.

You held your girl close, shielding her from the next scene. It was the day he had taken you.

You and the other maidens just so happened to pass by the dining hall. It was at that moment when Ivar swore time itself had stopped. He had been mesmerized by your presence. You, a noble maiden had captured the heathen king's heart.

For the entire evening he hadn't cared for anyone's attention but yours. Ordering you to halt everything to give the King your attention. His obsession was obvious to everyone but you. He followed you around like a love-sick puppy. To the point where the King himself appointed you as his foreign advisor.

Ivar had tried everything to woo you. From the promises of riches, to land, to the title of noblewoman. All of which you politely declined. Stating that you were happy with you life the way it was. Part of you knew he wouldn't stop until you gave him the attention he so desperately craved. So much so that he decides to take matters into his own hands.

Suddenly the stage began to erupt with an array of ribbons thrown into the air. To symbolize the arrows lit aflame. Flashes of that night came to you in small doses. You're no longer in Kattegat but now residing in your kingdom, before it was burned to the ground. You could see what was once your home, burning right before your very eyes. Hearing the echoes of your people's screams. The day your life changed forever.

There Ivar was, crawling towards you as you ran for the door. "Help! Help me! Someone please!" you ran as fast as you could. The gates began to close. There was not a moment to waste. You ran because your life depended on it. But it was too late, the guards on the other side began to pull harder for the gate to close. Soon enough it had shut.

You slam it as hard as you can. Until your fists began to bruise, "Please! Someone help me! I'm the commander's daughter! Please!" taking a breath loud enough so that they can hear you, "Don't leave me!" sobbing against the metal doors. As you turn around to find Ivar had caught up with you. He grins from ear to ear covered in blood from the fallen soldiers. With a look in his eyes that said: You're mine.

On the other side of the border your father and his men fought to defend the kingdom's last line of defense. "Sir!" a solider ushers for your father, who scolds him, "Not now boy!" he swings his sword at a heathen climbing the walls. But the man insists, "It's your daughter." causing the general to halt, "What is it boy?!"

"She's missing."

"What has happened?!"

"She left for the market this morning."

Those words alone made his blood run cold, "No..." It was that day when your father had made the ultimate sacrifice. Either let the gates down and weaken the kingdom's last defense, or lose his only child. Soon enough, Ivar had already reached the gates, halting his army from furthering. He demands to speak with your father to make a deal, “General, will you let me wed your daughter?”

He scowls at such a command, “When it rains fire.”

Ivar hums, nodding at the man's proclaim, “So let it be.” He raises his arms in the air, signaling for his warriors to shoot. Hundreds of arrows are lit aflame and shot into the sky. It took three days and nights until your kingdom had finally surrendered. Ivar had won. Your kingdom had lost.

This was the ‘Great love story’ of King Ivar and his queen. Your remember the pain and betrayal felt was immeasurable. Those strong feelings from years ago all came down at once. Like something inside of you had finally tipped over. You finally reach your breaking point, bowing your head in shame. Crying to yourself as your daughter tries her best to comfort you. But her soft heart could no longer take the sight of her mother weeping, as she wraps her arms around you and cries.

It catches the attention of your husband. It was then when his mood had shifted. He couldn’t help but feel like a deep pit had been dug in his belly. Ivar swishes the ale in his mouth, swallowing it as if it were bitter.

He sighs, standing up from his seat, “Halt!” he commands. The room goes silent. There isn’t so much as a whisper. Ivar gathers the actors, lining them up in a row for interrogation. He orders the guards to bring the writer responsible for the play. Soon enough, a timid man is put on stage. It was then when you had to beg your husband to spare his life. Ivar lets out a huff, "You should be thanking my wife for sparing you. Don't let it happen again." with that the celebration had come to an end.

You left as fast as you could. Sending your children off to their rooms before returning to your dreadful marital chambers. You ready yourself for bed, hoping that Ivar would return much later. When you hear his footsteps approaching you don't bother to look him in the eye. You help your husband remove his leg braces; since he's only ever let you do it.

When the two of you are finally in bed, Ivar reaches for your waist. He wraps his arms around your body as he held your bodies together. He presses his nose against the top of your hair, whispering, "It was the gods who led me to you my love..." he sighs, breathing in your scent. He hums, "The healers have already informed me." he brushes his hand flat against your mid drift. He feels for the swell of your under belly, one of his favorite things to do. If he could stay like this forever, he would. Ivar reassures you with soft whispers, "There there my love, it is in the past..." as he gently wipes the tears away, cooing as you cried the rest of the night in his arms.

#dark!ivar #dark!ivar the boneless x reader #dark!ivar lothbrok #dark!ivar ragnarsson #dark!ivar the boneless #dark fanfiction #dark!fanfic #dark!fic #reader #reader insert #dark fanfic #fem!reader #dark fic #dark!fanfiction #my work

[vikingwarrioraragnarsson]

Hvitserk Ragnarsson

Married to the most beautiful and wonderful woman from Midgard to Asgard, my beloved wife, mother of my child. My heart has always belonged to you and I have always loved you, because you, my proud wife, are everything to me, my home, my life, my family and nothing makes me happier than fulfilling our common fate, to wear your ring on my fnger, to become the father of our baby. I will love you, now, even in Valhalla with everything I am and have, protecting you and caring for you. Because you, my beloved wife, are everything to me, you and our little family. I can never and would never want to live without you. For you and us I would give everything and will with my consecrated arm ring and with my life, because you are my life. Nothing and no one will ever separate us, my fate is your fate, the ring on my finger like my heart is yours, like all my love and I am the happiest and proudest husband. I love you, more than anything in the world you are to me, I always have and I always will and every day more than before, like our son and daughter, my little, beloved family. @findmeinmywildestdreams

Hvitserk Ragnarsson is the second son of Ragnar Lothbrok and Queen Aslaug and, like his brothers, former Prince of Kattegat and descendant of the All-Father Odin. Proud father of his son Illian Ivar and his daughter Marlena Caya. He is Bjorn's little half-brother, little brother of Ubbe and big brother of Sigurd and Ivar. And uncle of Rune, Cailan, Vidar and Edda. As Ragnar's sons, he and his brothers are considered the most famous men and Vikings of their people. Despite their father's departure and the harshness that each of Ragnar's sons has, he seems to be considered the cheeriest of the brothers and initially has a close relationship, especially with Ubbe, from an early age. After the death of their father and the successful revenge and fame they gain as Ragnar's sons, he has enough of following Ubbe's commands and being patronized as a little brother and joins Ivar with whom he stands up against the rest of the brothers and asks himself what fate the gods have imposed on him and questions his choice. Always searching for meaning and his true destiny like his father once did, Hvitserk seems more lost than his brothers and has a more sensitive side than the others. Despite his humorous and cheerful nature, it quickly becomes clear how strongly the young Viking is sadistic and clearly resembles Ivar. He also has a curiosity about other religions from his father and, like Ragnar, has no interest in being king or ruling, he prefers to follow rather than lead and chooses a life as a warrior. The Viking loves and lives for battle and is a merciless, extremely talented warrior and beast of a berserker, ready for any war, bloodthirsty and brutal, who doesn't shy away from bloodshed. So he helps Ivar, to whom he is absolutely loyal, to the throne of Kattegat and is subordinate to him. Out of anger at how Ivar treats him and mistrusts him and constantly being pushed around and frightened by Ivar's mercilessness, since Hvitserk has a gentle side himself, he begins to turn against his little brother. After the renewed battle against Ivar, he helps Björn to the throne, but feels more miserable and lost than ever before after he loses Thora, who Ivar burned alive, and gives in to alcohol and drugs, unhappy and in pain. Haunted by feelings of guilt, holding on to the crazy Ivar wants to kill him and he has to kill him first and haunted by Thora's ghost. Very confused and marked by misery. When he is banished by his brother Bjorn, he struggles with other exiles before he meets Ivar again, who takes him under his wing and they both fight side by side again. Hvitserk realizes that it is his true fate to stay with Ivar instead of killing him, as he previously assumed, and once again stands loyally by his side and supports his little brother in his plans. It becomes clear that both of them are more similar than they thought and that they belong together through fate, but also how much Hvitserk has always cared about his little brother, how loyal he is to him and how deeply and sincerely he has always loved Ivar and is ready for his brother to give his life, despite their hatred for each other and the complicated relationship that becomes increasingly intimate. Despite the lost, broken side in him, he is still the strong, unstoppable Viking and Berserker who is ready to go into battle at any time and give everything. Together with Ivar, united and more intimate than ever, he returns to Kattegat, ready for any war or challenge. Despite his determination and no fear of murder and bloodshed and love of battle and his success as a warrior, Hvitserk does not have a particularly high opinion of himself because he cannot see much in himself and always doubts himself greatly. While the lonely part of him wants nothing more than to be truly loved, to have children and a family to whom he can give all his love.( Vikings )

#ragnarsson #viking #novelist #wire ; hvitserklothbrok #Vikings #norse mythology #userfakevz

[ivarthebonelessx]

Ivar Lothbrok or Ivar Ragnarsson or Ivar the Boneless is the fourth son of Ragnar and Aslaug. He has been physically disabled since birth. He has no bones in his legs. His upper body, on the other hand, is athletic and muscular. The disability does not prevent him from learning to fight. He is also highly intelligent and sharp-tongued. Ivar was conceived after Ragnar's return from England. Aslaug warned Ragnar not to sleep with her for three days or she would give birth to a monster. Ragnar did not comply and took her that same night. After a painful birth, Ivar was born with twisted legs. His parents were very afraid for his future, as he would have a hard life. Siggy and Ragnar suggested killing him, but Aslaug refused. One night, Ragnar kidnapped his son to kill him, but he couldn't bring himself to do so and left him helpless. Aslaug found him and took him back to Kattegat. It was there that the child got his name: Ivar. Ragnar also gave him the nickname "the boneless". Ivar is a sadistic, sarcastic, angry, bloodthirsty and violent person. Even as a child, he is cruel and dangerous. When he learns of Siggy's death, he laughs. He literally murders another kid with an axe over a disagreement during a ball game and is no less out of joints than he has grown up. As a child, he is easily angry, arrogant, and selfish, due in part to Aslaug's poor upbringing. He is indifferent when he hears of the murder of the entire Wessex settlement. His ruthless attitude makes him feared by everyone except Björn, Ragnar and Aslaug. His bloodthirsty escapades often teach people not to underestimate him just because he's labeled a cripple. If you think he is inferior to his brothers in any way, he will show you the opposite. He is the best archer and axe thrower of Ragnar's sons, and can at least take on Hvitserk and Sigurd with his sword, even though he can't walk. Although he is a vicious, bloodthirsty conqueror who kills relatives, Ivar's total love and devotion to his parents are both redeeming qualities for him. He admires Ragnar for his great fame and successful raids. He loves his mother deeply, as she was the only person who gave him a lot of attention and love. Ivar always believes that he is doing what he had to do. There is a lot of dissonance between him and others. Many people try to define him by his disability. But that only pushes him further into more extreme positions to prove that's not the case. Then the same people say that he doesn't have to try so hard, which makes him repeat their earlier words. Behind his psychotic rage lies Ivar's desire to have a family of his own. Ivar's love of war is one of his greatest strengths, as it allows him to unleash his wrath on his enemies and gives him the chance to be bigger than Ragnar, which he dreams of. The bloodshed he inflicts shows his love of killing and deeply expresses his violent nature. Ragnar admits that Ivar is the most intelligent of his sons, and therefore the most dangerous and capable. Ragnar also admits that Ivar becomes a great leader if he can channel his anger properly. His sharp and strategic mind is most evident during the two battles of York. Ivar has learned to suppress his constant anger and hide it from those who don't know him well. This behavior makes Ivar highly unpredictable and gives him great inner strength and ruthlessness. Ivar is also a very charismatic and capable manipulator. ( Son of Ragnar and Aslaug, brother of Björn, Hvitserk, Ubbe and Sigurd, king of Kattegat.)

[ - married to my queen @princessoftherus, my beautiful, strong, brave and lovely wife, the woman who I love, adore and respect more than anyone else. Father of Cailan Ivain, Vidar Ragnar and Edda Aslaug.]

#userfakevz #ivar the boneless #Vikings #Wire: ivartheboneless_

[soapsilly]

Everyday a little less Part 5 - Vikings Imagine

Pairings: Hvitserk x reader, Ubbe x reader

Summary: (Y/N) is Kattegat’s healer and Hvitserk’s girlfriend but after Hvitserk decides to side with Ivar and fight against Ubbe, she questions herself if she can still stay with him.

Requests are closed

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 -  Masterlist

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The priest turned out to be more resilient than (Y/N) would’ve thought. It was by far no painless procedure but little by little he gained strength and soon she could confidently say, “He’ll heal”.

However, Lagertha’s warriors didn’t take kindly to those news. A christian - a priest even - who fought and slaughtered alongside Ivar, did not only get to live but would possibly make a full recovery whilst their brothers died by his hands. Even many days later, the camp was still filled with the screams of the vikings, whose wounds had not healed. The infection had spread to the bone and at that point there wasn’t much more that (Y/N) could do. It was either amputation or death. 

The healer understood the resentment - she really did - but she couldn’t bare to see them kick the priest’s walking aid from under his feet when he was trying to make his way through camp. She automatically closed her eyes to avoid seeing him hit the ground but the ‘thump’ followed by the cheering of the men and women surrounding her was enough for her to paint a mental picture. Of course it pained her to see any person struggling and in pain, she was a healer after all, but she’d be lying of she said that the situation did not remind her of Ivar’s feeble attempts to walk, using the walking aids that he had made specifically for him. Many times she heard people make fun of the youngest of Ragnar Lothbrok’s sons and many times she defended him and eventhough they were on different sides of a war, her heart still ached for him.

The priest, however, did not yield. They kicked him down but he still crawled over to his aid and used it to hoist himself up again. As another one was about to kick it away yet another time, (Y/N) stopped him, “Enough!”

The vikings turned to look at her but before anybody had the chance to protest she continued, “Lagertha, your Queen, made me save this man. She made me save him and she made me do my best and heal him. And eventhough I don’t know the reason for this, I’m sure she has one...”

In other words, the priest was off limits. What no one knew though, was, that not even Lagertha herself knew why she wanted the priest alive but at the moment it didn’t matter because merely the fact that she spared his life then saved him from torment now.

*******************************************************************************************

(Y/N) didn’t sit at the table with the others when they received the news that the Franks have arrived in the north. She stood leaned against one of the pillars of the tent. This way she could listen in on the conversation without running the risk of having to participate in it. But what she gathered from it filled her with anxiety. 

Whilst she had seen many places and people, she had only ever heard of the Franks. 

“Tell me about them”, (Y/N) asked Hvitserk. The both of them were laying together on the beach, watching the sky. The both of them would sometimes lie there the whole day, first watching the clouds and later at night the stars, while they would talk for hours on end. (Y/N) usually rambled on and on about her travels and all the plants and flowers she had seen there, Hvitserk enjoyed listening to her stories about foreign lands and people but didn’t understand a word about the healing properties of certain tinctures and balms. He didn’t mind at all though - in fact he enjoyed each and every word that left her mouth. But it wasn’t only the young woman that talked, every now and again Hvitserk would interrupt her to throw in some funny anecdotes and stupid jokes. (Y/N) would always act annoyed but secretly she liked when he did this. She tried her hardest to not let it show but her giggles would always give her away. She enjoyed when he talked about the fights and pranks that him and his brothers were up to. She really loved every single one of them but Hvitserk was special to her. 

“Well, I was still young. Father took Ubbe and me with him. I remember how excited we were. Growing up we heard all the stories about how Ragnar Lothbrok led the raid against the Saxons and how easy it was. We were expecting the same ease but it wasn’t so”, Hvitserk furrowed his brows.

When they left the table Ubbe walked up to (Y/N).

“What do you think?”, he asked her. She wouldn’t tell her opinion without being asked about it, but he trusted her assesment. Ubbe looked at her, unable to read her expression. He wondered if Hvitserk had been able to.

(Y/N) only shook her head. Ubbe didn’t know if she disagreed with the plan or if she was trying to signal him that her thoughts were as lost as he was. Before he could ask, she interrupted him.

“Tell me about them” 

Ubbe was quiet for a second. He was sure Hvitserk told her all about everything already. But this time the healer wasn’t interested in their culture and people but rather if they stood a chance.

“They outnumber us. Our best chance is Björn convincing Uncle Rollo to talk Ivar out of this war”

(Y/N) nodded but it was more to herself, as if to confirm what she had already thought. 

“It seems we’ll do battle again soon”, (Y/N) concluded. She didn’t believe anybody - not even the Allfather himself - could ever convince Ivar to change his ways.

“Either of us could die. It is almost certain that one of us will”, Ubbe stated, almost no emotion in his voice. (Y/N) knew that he wasn’t only talking about himself, but about Björn, Torvi, Lagertha and Halfdan -  maybe even Hvitserk and Ivar, too.

The younger woman wanted to disagree with him, wanted to tell him that everything would be okay but realized that Ubbe was right. Instead she simply hugged the taller man. Almost immediately she could feel his arms around her. And so they stood there in silence for a few moments and when they finally let go, they didn’t feel as bad anymore.

*******************************************************************************************

In Kattegat Margrethe saw visions of Ubbe and visions of (Y/N) and visions of the both of them together. 

“I shouldn't have married her”, she heard Ubbe say to the woman sitting across from him in his tent. “I wish it was you who carried my child” 

(Y/N) obviously enjoyed hearing that, as she crawled over to the man and started kissing him passionately. Margrethe wasn’t surprised in the slightest though. Since Hvitserk betrayed them, (Y/N) was circling around her husband like a crow that would wait for hurt animals to finally die. She weaseled her way into their lives, into Lagertha’s inner circle... However, much to her displeasure Ubbe fell for her tricks. He wouldn’t do anything while they were still in Kattegat together but since they left for war, Margrethe did not have any influence over her husband anymore. She knew that the healer had cast a spell on him, brew some kind of love potion... and now she could see the two of them have sex in Ubbe’s tent.

“Margrethe!”, a child’s voice ripped the woman out of her thoughts. She couldn’t stand caring for those children anymore. She accepted the responsibility as long as she knew there’d be a payoff but now that Ubbe left her for (Y/N) there wasn’t any reason to act like their thrall anymore. She got her freedom and wouldn’t ever go back to how things were.

“Mommy?”, the younger of the two children asked her. Margrethe knew deep down that it wasn’t the childrens fault but she couldn’t help but to still give a cruel answer anyways.

“How stupid you are. What do you think your mother is doing now? Perhaps she is getting ready to fight. Or maybe she's dead. Maybe she has already died in battle. My advice to you is to forget about your mother. Don't think of her.     Don't imagine she's ever coming back. Except as a ghost”

*****************************************************************************************

Rollo wasn’t there. He never even came. And so they had no other choice but to fight like Ubbe predicted. Once again they all gathered around Lagertha’s big wooden table to consult about the next steps. Like usual (Y/N) listened to everything everybody said, but never made any suggestions herself. It wasn’t like her to mingle with war matters. All the talk about legacys and conservation of territories made her sick. Lagertha wanted to send a considerable number of fighters back to Kattegat to defend the city if they were to lose the war, Björn advised against it - they would need every single man and maiden out on the battlefield if they were even to stand a chance. 

But then Halfdan spoke up,”The gods have already decided the outcome of this battle”

(Y/N) wasn’t originally from Norway. She was a traveller, didn’t really have any roots. Often times, she couldn’t really relate to the faith the boys had in their gods. She now lived there so long that she took over their speech patterns and she even sometimes caught herself sending a impromptu prayer towards the gods during difficult times but when things really started to become grave she never understood their faith. But now she really wanted to believe the words Halfdan just spoke, because it was the only comfort she could find in this cruel situation.

*******************************************************************************************

“What are you thinking of?”, Ivar asked his brother. Both of them were busy with the last preparations for the war.

“I’m thinking I think many things, Ivar”, Hvitserk didn’t look up from his arm cuffs.

“I always fear that thought may fail to wing his way home. But my fear for  memory is greater. What do you fear most, dear brother? The loss of thought or memory?”

“My thoughts and memories seem to be the same. Every time I think, I always remember the day I jumped out of Ubbe's ship”, Hvitserk felt a pang of melancholy. Was it because of his brother or because of his lover? It was true that he missed (Y/N) and it was true that he still loved her, but he did what he had to do and she should have followed him. 

“But you didn't jump. The gods pushed you”, Ivar teased his brother.

“I wasn't pushed. I decided to do it”

Ivar laughed, “And I think, you still regret it”

Hvitserk became serious, “I have no regrets. Except”, he let out a little chuckle, “I don't have any children”. He was still young but the thought of having children with anybody except (Y/N) had honestly never crossed his mind.

“But then again, Ivar, you and me are in the same boat, huh?”, he continued in an attempt to lighten the mood.

But Ivar wasn’t having it. the younger brother went on to describe how he’ll have children and how those children will go on to populate the earth.

Hvitserk, who still didn’t understand how serious his brother was, let out a laugh,”Yeah, sure”

In the blink of an eye Ivar pulled out his knife holding it dangerously close to Hvitserk’s throat. Only after several warning from his older brother did he lower the weapon again.

“I'm anxious about the battle. I am sorry”, he said calmly.

“You're sorry?”

“I am sorry you jumped ship. It was a mistake. I know you have regretted it ever since. And isn't that true, huh, poor Hvitserk?”, Ivar sounded hateful.

“Maybe sometimes”

“Maybe sometimes. I thought that perhaps you jumped ship because you loved me. But of course you didn't. How could you ever love me?”

And there the feeling was again, Ivar made him his dog once again.

“I am sorry you jumped ship. It was a mistake. I know you've regretted it ever since. It was a mistake” Ivar’s words kept on echoing in Hvitserk’s head. What he didn’t yet know was, how much Ivar planned to make his words reality.

*******************************************************************************************

The battle was bloody. There were screams everywhere. Screams from attacking vikings aswell as from wounded and dying warriors. Ubbe had slain many men already and there was still no end in sight. Even though they really were outnumbered, it didn’t mean that they didn’t try until the bitter end. 

And all of a sudden brother stood before brother. For just a second Ubbe and Hvitserk just stood there - and then with a loud yell Ubbe swung his sword...

but stopped right where Hvitserk’s neck met his shoulder. Who could’ve known that Hvitserk would find himself in the same situation twice within the same day? And yet again he didn’t even flinch. Ubbe tried again but couldn’t do it. Hvitserk asked himself if Ivar would have the same reservations if they were on different sides? By the time he finished his thought two fighting vikings had seperated the eye contact he and Ubbe held and his older brother turned his back to him and left him standing.

*******************************************************************************************

He couldn’t do it. It was his little brother. He knew sometimes death was inevitable but he couldn’t just kill Hvitserk like Ivar killed Sigurd. Would Harald hesitate to kill Halfdan? Surely Björn wouldn’t hesitate to kill either of them if they stood before him on a battlefield but if Ubbe killed Hvitserk he not only couldn’t forgive himself, he would also have to bring (Y/N) the news that the one who killed her lover wasn’t just any other viking or Frank but rather his own brother. Could she forgive him? He was sure she would accept it but would she ever look at him the same? 

Ubbe was torn from his thoughts when he saw a small group of Ivar’s warriors running up the hill towards their campsite. It was like Ivar to start an ambush - a cheap and dirty trick. 

*******************************************************************************************

“Ivar! What are you doing sending warriors in Lagertha’s camp?”, Hvitserk, too, had seen the group of vikings running away from the battlefield and towards the enemy camp. He knew Harald would never oder such a thing, so as fast as his legs would carry him he made his way over to where Ivar was mounted on his chariot.

“They will not be expecting this, brother! They’re losing anyways. And once that happens where will they go?”, Ivar’s voice carried a smile.

“There are wounded people there. (Y/N) is there!”, Hvitserk tried to reason with Ivar even though it was no use. He already sent out the men. 

“So what, Hvitserk? So what? She left us! She chose Ubbe!”

Hvitserk looked at his younger brother in disbelief. Was this really about her all along? If anything she left him and him only. She was never Ivar’s to begin with but Hvitserk began to understand. She was his healer. His and only his. And in another life Ivar probably thought that she could’ve loved him in a way that his brothers never would but now he felt as if she chose Ubbe over them.

“She didn’t”, Hvitserk’s statement was final and with that, he went and ran after the group of vikings that were sent out to kill what was left of Lagertha’s camp.

“You’ll see, brother, you’ll see!”, Ivar yelled after Hvitserk but his older brother.

*******************************************************************************************

Once Hvitserk arrived in Lagertha’s camp he could hear screaming immediately. The few shield maidens that Lagertha kept there to guard the camp were still battling against Ivar’s assassins. And even a few of the wounded fought to the best of their abilities. Bodies littered the floor. A few of Ivars men but mostly Lagerthas vikings.

Hvitserk heard a scream that pulled him out of his stupor - (Y/N)! He made his way through the camp. Slaying men on his way there. Once towards the middle of camp near a tent he could see her. There wasn’t much time to think. She was fighting with a dagger that she probably only had with her for cutting bandages or twine, but he was glad he had shown her how to defend herself if she had to. Still he didn’t waste any time and reached them no second too late. As the bigger man was just about to kick the woman down, Hvitserk thrusted his sword through the assassin’s chest, watching him collapse infront of their feet.

“Hvitserk” hearing his name out of her mouth sounded like the sweetest melody he has ever heard. She was out of breath, panting in fact, but other than that she seemed to be just fine. He took her form in. She looked tired but still so familiar. He had truly never stopped loving her and now that she was just within an arm’s reach all he had to do was - 

“(Y/N)!”, Ubbe yelled her name.

As the healer heard the older Lothbrok’s voice a smile lit up her face and she ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms. When Hvitserk saw how tight she clung to Ubbe he couldn’t help but wonder if Ivar was right all along.

“Are you okay? I saw Ivar’s men heading to camp... I came as fast as I could-”

“Well, seems like you weren’t fast enough”, Hvitserk interjected.

Both Ubbe and (Y/N) looked at him. Hvitserk couldn’t quite read the look that laid in (Y/N)’s eyes. Was it uncertainty? Was it fear? He didn’t have the time to figure it out. The sounds of horns filled the air signaling that the battle has ended and that Lagertha and Björn have lost.

“Quick, we need to leave. The others will be here soon”, Ubbe already turned to leave assuming (Y/N) just follow him. 

“Wait”, Hvitserk was determined to not just stand and watch as history repeated itself again,”what do you mean leave? You lost. Do you really think she’ll be safe with you?”

Ubbe let out a bitter laugh,”Ivar just sent assassins to try and kill her. Do you really think she’ll be safe with you?”

“I’ll protect her!”, Hvitserk was starting to get angy. Who did Ubbe think he was? (Y/N) was his. Ubbe had Margrethe to worry about, “Besides Ivar wouldn’t touch her once she came back to us - I’d make sure of that”

“You’d make sure of that? Ivar is unpredictable. No one is safe around him”

“(Y/N), please”, Hvitserk was now adressing his lover directly. He knew that he could protect her and he knew that she knew that aswell. So he held his hand out for her to take, “Come on, let’s go. We don’t have much time left”

Hvitserk was right, the noise grew louder and louder with every second they just stood there. (Y/N) looked at him and for a moment they were at the beach again, laughing about his silly jokes and listening to her travel stories - but only for a moment.

“Hvitserk... I’m - I’m so sorry...”, hearing that was answer enough. Slowly he let his outstretched hand sink and watched the love of his life turn his back. Ubbe put his hand between her shoulders and guided her away - away from the stranded Hvitserk. (Y/N) turned around one last time but by then her former lover had already hurriedly taken off.

The healer felt empty but she knew she made the right decision. Not only morally but also for her safety. Even though she had once loved Hvitserk, she knew that she would be safer with Ubbe. But there was also something else. She grew so fond of the comfort of his company, she feared what it would feel like to miss him, but she would never admit that. Not to herself, not to Hvitserk and especially not to Ubbe...

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[multific]

Burn the World for You

Ivar The Boneless x Reader

Summary: When you are taken, Ivan doesn't take it too kindly.

Being Queen of Kattegat came with a price. 

The price was that you were often attacked. People who were trying to take Ivar off of the throne often thought it would be the best way to do so by hurting you.

Since you were his wife.

Ivar absolutely adores you. You are his everything. His little wife.

You have known him since you two were only children. You watched him grow up to be a handsome man, while he watched you become the gorgeous woman you were today.

Your marriage came as no news to anyone.

And now, you were the Queen.

His Queen.

Who was kidnapped by three men. 

You knew better than to struggle against the rope. You knew better than to try and fight them.

They didn't know the wrath of your husband. But they will soon learn.

You were quiet and collected as they dragged you to their camp not too far from your home.

How stupid were they? Even if no one was looking for you, they could find them easily!

Ivar swore he nearly entered Valhalla just by the sight of his bedchambers.

Everything was ruined, your favourite things were thrown everywhere, but most of all, you were gone.

Gone and there was blood on the floor. He sincerely hoped it wasn't yours.

Ivar saw red as he called his brothers and men to go and find you. With an axe in hand, he was also out for blood.

How dare anyone take you from him?! 

You were patient. Even when a knife was held to your neck, you remained stoic.

You let out a deep sigh when finally Hvitserk arrived.

He killed the men and brought you back to your home.

"Where's my wife?!" you heard Ivar yell as he pushed himself through the crowd and into your home. Finally, as the door closed behind him, you walked over to him as he hugged you, he gave a thankful look to his brother who only nodded before he left you two alone.

"I'm fine Ivar. Idiots didn't even have a decent plan..."

"I gave you a knife... where is it?"

"I just finished bathing when they barged in, my knife and axe weren't with me." Ivar nodded, letting out long sighs and taking deep breaths.

"I thought I lost you."

"And I know you would come for me." you cupped his cheeks in your hands. "Even as they were talking about how they will kill me all I could think about was how I knew you would show up at any second and just kill all three of them. And then, your brother showed up. You sent him and he saved me," you placed a kiss on his lips. "No one will take me from you, Ivar. Not even the Gods." he smiled as he pulled you closer.

You knew he was happy to have you back as you could only imagine how angry he was when he realized that you were gone. 

But now, you were back by his side, where you belonged. 

He placed his nose into your neck, taking deep breaths to calm himself and to let his mind and body realise that you were indeed back

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

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[miss-madness67]

Married Woman (Ivar & Bjorn)

You find yourself attracted to a man that is not your husband. Worst of all, he loves you too.

The first time you saw him, you were instantly drawn to him. It was not because he is a son of Ragnar, you didn’t even know at the beginning. It was all himself. His broad shoulders and his blue eyes were quick to hypnotize you. The next thing you knew, you were in his bed. You could easily say that night was one of the best you spent with him. From then on, your relationship moved quite fast. He wanted to marry you, and you didn’t oppose. You married at Hedeby, his mother’s domain. You met him there when he came back from avenging his father in England. Your family just moved to the town in hopes to marry you. They were not disappointed when Bjorn Ironside took you as his. Not that you were complaining. Marrying a prince was more than you were expecting, considering that your parents are farmers.

“It’s really hard to be here and look at you, as though I’m not completely in love with you.”

The thread you were knitting breaks when you hear Ivar behind you. You stand up and turn to face him. He is by the door that leads to the hall. You take a quick look around the resting room, you are lucky it’s empty right now.

“Ivar, you know you can not say those things.” You scold, looking directly at him.

His gaze is so intense you have to look back at your knitting. You are making a robe for Bjorn. Lately, he has been a little distant. You think it is perhaps because you have yet to get pregnant. Yet, considering that you have not slept together in two weeks, it is a little hard to do so.

“It is the truth, should I lie, uhm?” he raises a brow mockingly.

You met Ivar a few months ago when Bjorn decided to come back to Kattegat for a while. You had just been married for a few weeks then, still, you instantly knew that Bjorn was not a man that stayed in one place. When you arrived at Kattegat, you also learned that you were not your husband’s first wife. Apparently, Torvi had just separated from him before he went to Hedeby. And he had another wife before her that disappeared.

You leave your knitting behind and walk to the other side of the room. “It is something you should not say to your brother’s wife,” you respond without glancing his way.

Ivar has always harbored feelings for you. They were not evident at first. He was just kinder to you than he was to everyone else. Then he started to get bolder, to the point that even Ubbe had noticed. Luckily, neither Queen Aslaug nor Bjorn suspected anything. You thought that perhaps if they knew, they would surely kick you out. Not that it was your fault Ivar felt that way, or that you have done anything with him. You have not.

You hear Ivar’s crutch as he approaches you. Your heart starts pounding rapidly inside your chest. Even if you have never done anything, you cannot deny how your body reacts to him. It is not that you do not have feelings for Bjorn anymore, it is just that what Ivar brings out in you is stronger. Ivar’s hand finds its way to your hip. His fingers delicately trace inconsistent patterns on your hip bone. Your skin burns to the contact in spite of the clothing in its way. You try desperately to control your breathing. He cannot know that his desire is reciprocated because if he does, you are scared of what he will do. You are scared you might do not want to stop him.

“My brother does not deserve you,” he whispers in your ear. “You know how he is. I’m sure Torvi has warned you he is quick to fall out of love.” She did warn you, but you refuse to believe it.

You try to step away, but he does not let you. “It is fine, once I am with child it will be fine.” you attempt to justify.

Your skin feels hot to the touch. You want to escape the feelings that Ivar causes in you, so you think that if you turn around, he will put distance between you. However, once your eyes clash with his, his hold on you tightens. You have never been this close to Ivar. For a moment, all of your rational thoughts leave your brain instantly. The only thing you can think of is his eyes. They are so unlike his brother’s. The shade is the same, yet they transmit something entirely different. They make you feel something completely new.

At that moment of insanity, you take a step towards him. Your senses drown in his presence. You feel you, yet you feel more. Your hand finds its way to his neck. He is taller than you and you love it. His chest clashes with yours and both your breaths mix. You do not know what you are doing, but it feels so right. It is like welcoming your lover after how long raid far from home. It is everything you wish you felt with Bjorn but never did.

“Once you are with me,” he murmurs on your lips, “it will be fine.”

You do not have time to process what is happening, or even to think. One moment he is looking at you like you are his whole life, and the next, he is eating you like you are the greatest feast ever served. His lips mold perfectly with yours. Your hands cup his neck exquisitely. His hand moves from your hip to your back, leaving a trace of fire on its path. Your tongues dance like never before, and you forget your name. It feels like, before this moment, you didn't truly know what happiness and passion were like.

You feel the hold on his crutch slightly wavering. You know that he is strong, yet he must be feeling lightheaded like you. You part from him momentarily, and he tries to follow your lips with his. You pay no mind and quickly locate a chair nearby. You push him towards it. He sits with a puzzled look on his face. Still, he easily knows what you are up to once you climb on his lap.

Your mouths take no time to find each other again. Now, both of his hands caress your sides and your back lovingly. Meanwhile, yours play with his braided hair. You wish it were loose so you could run your fingers through it. You move your hips involuntarily. That causes a moan to escape his mouth. If you were not aroused before, you are now. You continue with your movements so you can listen to the delicious sounds his mouth makes. It is until he places his hand in your left breast that you realize you are moaning too. Right now, you are not thinking that you are in a room where anyone could walk in. You are not thinking about Bjorn. Or the fact that you are kissing his brother.

A loud crash breaks the atmosphere instantly. In the doorway, a male thrall is standing with a surprised look on his face. At his feet, there is a jug with spilled mead. You quickly climb out of Ivar. The thrall turns away, apologizes, and scurries off. You do not try to go after him to prevent him from saying anything. You are too embarrassed to even glance at Ivar. The silence stretches for a moment.

“I…” before Ivar can say something else, you run out the door.

...

A few days go by. You have been ignoring Ivar ever since the kiss. You only talked when he told you that he took care of the thrall. You did not ask what he did, but you suspect it. A dead slave would not be questioned. In that short conversation, you only managed to nod and flee. The desire you feel for him is too great to simply ignore. Now that he knows he is reciprocated, he has been more persistent in his advances. It has made it nearly impossible to avoid him. Still, what you fear the most is that if you are in a room alone with him, all of your resolutions will be broken again. You fear Bjorn noticing your heart no longer belongs to him. You do not think he will hold it against you, but you still care for him. You do not want to break his heart.

On the other hand, some part of you believes it will not be broken. He has kept on being distant towards you. The night you kissed Ivar, you tried to sleep with him out of guilt. Your advances were stronger than the nights before, and he finally complied. It is safe to say that was the worst sex of your life. At first, he could not get it up, and then it was just not… satisfying. You had to conjure the image of his brother in your mind in order to finish. So, even more so than the neglecting, that was what made you think there could be another woman. Torvi had warned you, so had Ivar and Ubbe. You did not believe it then. Now you do.

As you follow Bjorn through the streets of Kattegat, some part of you wishes to be wrong. You do not want him to cheat on you, which is a bit hypocritical considering you kissed Ivar.

A woman crashes with you, and she murmurs insults your way. Nevertheless, when she looks at your face, she stops. Recognition flashes in her eyes. She smirks, apologizes, and then says something like "one of Ironside wives". The comment bothers you, not because that would make you second to other women in Bjorn's life, but because that means that you are not even memorable to the people of Kattegat. They think you will be gone soon, forgotten in the list of many wives. That you are just one of the many he will have. Still, you must not let it show that it bothered you, so you look down on her way and walk off.

The little encounter makes you lose sight of Bjorn. It takes you a while to find again his blond hair in the crowd. When you do, you see him entering a cabin on the outskirts of town. It was hard to trail him without him noticing, but now that you have seen where he went, you do not want to ruin it. You wait a few minutes at a safe distance, but no one comes inside. Slowly, you approach the place. Your heart is pounding rapidly, wondering what you will find.

The first thing you notice is the loud moans of a woman. That makes you freeze on the spot. Your head screams ‘I knew it’ but you need to see, to make sure. There is a crack in the wood near the door, you go near it. The hole is big enough to show you what is inside. From your spot, you have a direct view of the bed. You are not surprised by what you see.

Your husband, Bjorn, is bent over a woman laying in fours on the bed. You cannot see her face, but you distinguish blonde hair.  Bjorn is pounding rapidly into her. The cabin is filled with her moans and the obscene sounds of flesh hitting flesh. Bjorn groans above her. He grabs her by the hair, lifting her face, and that is when you recognize her. You have never talked with her, after all, she is merely a thrall. You think her name is Freydis. You remember her because she used to cling to Ivar until she realized he was not interested. Back then, you had been slightly jealous. Now, looking at your husband fuck her makes you feel… relief.

You had expected to drown in betrayal or heartbreak. None of that happens. Instead, it is then that you realize that you can be free about your feelings for Ivar. If Bjorn does not care about you any longer, then it does not matter that you are in love with another. You no longer have to remain loyal to him or feel guilty over a simple kiss. Especially with him fucking a slave for Odin knows how long. However, you crave closure. So while Bjorn is still pounding her cunt, you open the door noisily.

Your husband looks up from his task and stops abruptly. He says your name, shocked, and pushes Freydis away. The slave falls to the ground with a thud, but you do not spare a glance her way.

“I know now why you were distant,” you talk first.

He stands up and covers himself with the furs. “I…”

You do not let him talk. You have never seen Bjorn Ironside startled, yet it is your turn to express your feelings. “It is ok, Bjorn. I do not mind, nor do I feel betrayed. Everyone warned me this would happen. Tell me, do you still love me?”

He is even more surprised now. He looks down at Freydis and then at you. He seems embarrassed, though certain. It takes him a while to answer. “I am sorry. I still care about you, but not the way I used to.”

You nod in understanding. “It seems like the gods had put us together to derive our paths to someone else.”

For a moment, he appears confused. Then, a knowing smile overcomes his face. “Ivar, am I right?”

Now is your time to be startled. “How did you…”

He interrupts you. “He is not very subtle… The way he looks at you, I have never looked at anyone that way.” At least he is honest about not loving the thrall either. Then, he adds: “just be careful with him, yes? He is still Ivar The Boneless.” You both know what he means, but you are done listening to your now ex-husband. You nod at him and walk away.

Your body is buzzing with freedom inside your veins. The love and desire you feel for Ivar drives you to search for him. You know he must be in the forest right now, probably in the spot he showed you once; where he went to think. It is not very far from where you are now. You bypass half Kattegat and then scurry off into the woods. The hike seems endless, but it is the best one of your life. Your heart beats fast, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. You have to control yourself before you meet him . You tell yourself that over and over again. And yet, when you see his back, you shout his name. He turns around and sees you.

He is confused, you can see it in his eyes, but when you sit in his lap and kiss him senselessly, he does not pull away. He places his hands on your face and pulls you closer. You know that you must explain everything to him. Tell him that you are no longer married, that your heart belongs to him, that you want with him what you could not with his brother. You want to tell him that and more, but for now, you express it in the kiss. And when he pulls away and looks into your eyes, you know he understands.

#ivar the boneless x you #ivar vikings #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #vikings #ivar smut #bjorn ironside #bjorn lothbrok #bjorn #bjorn ironside x reader #bjorn x reader #vikings smut #fanfiction #angst #love triangle #vikings angst #ivar angst

[literaryuppsala]

I’m not sure if your requests are open! If not just ignore me !! Can you do a Hvitserk x reader where she’s a Targaryen that has been exploring other lands on dragonback and comes across Kattegat which has never seen a dragon? I just love when the OC is the center of attention 💕💕

Alright this took me a while to make and I had so much fun while doing It, as an asoiaf fan, to write for a Targaryen character was always something I wanted to do, but just never had the opportunity so thank you for your ask, i really loved it.

I'm gonna need your willing suspension of disbelief in two things here: asoiaf and vikings maps and languages spoken, with that being said, there's no warnings, no smut, just a kiss, a few of dragon rides and Ivar being the bad bitch he's always been.

The end is cut short because I totally gonna need more than just one chapter to develop this relationship, let me know if you want something like this.

Enjoy ♥

Life was a willow (and It bent right to your wind)

You were the center of attention since you were born, being the only daughter to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you inherited your mother’s title: the realm’s delight. You were Rhaenyra’s youngest child, not an heir, just a daughter and you loved that. Your brothers had to deal with lords and lands and battles, while you could do things as you will, and to be honest, what you loved the most was flying around on your dragon. 

You bonded with her very early and started flying at the age of seven, the same age your mother started flying Syrax. You named your dragon Seafyre, it was a she dragon, your favorite thing in the world, your best friend and your protector. She had a beautiful silver color with blue scales, her flames were blueish with a hint of silver and despite not being an adult dragon yet, she was growing very fast, you wondered If she would grow to be as big as Balerion was. 

Rhaenyra loved you dearly, at first she wanted to protect you from the matters of the Seven Kingdoms, but as you grew up, she saw so much of herself in you, she wanted you to do great things, wanted the people to know you not just as a beautiful young woman, but a strong princess. Seeing the love you had for your dragon and despite Daemon’s resistance, she decided to introduce you to the truth. 

Rhaenyra’s claim wasn’t as strong as Aegon’s simply because she wasn’t a man. Despite winning the Dance of the Dragons and killing her brother, not all of the lords accepted her power. They plotted against her and she knew she needed allies to call for when the time would come. You were smart and gentle, and the Queen decided to make you a messenger: you would fly to further lands and offer alliances with the Queen.

“You’re late.” Your mother scolded you as you entered the council room. 

“Lost track of time.” You answered a little embarrassed, taking off your gloves as you walked towards her. 

“Come, we need to talk.” She gently touched your shoulder as she guided you towards the table. 

Gathered around the table there was only the hand of the queen, your father Daemon and the Master of Whisperers, you knew what that meant. 

Every time the Master of Whisperers heard of new lands, he would come to Rhaenyra to tell her about the possibility of new allies, he was the one to tell her you were the perfect messenger for Dorne. After Prince Qoren’s death, his daughter Alliandra ascended to the throne. During the Dance, Rhaenyra asked for Dorne’s support but was denied, Prince Qoren decided he wouldn’t step into that fight. However, after killing Aegon and ascending, the Queen tried one more time, with you. Later, you and Alliandra ended up becoming friends and Rhaenyra finally had Dorne’s support.

This happened a lot of times. Rhaenyra would send you first, on your dragon, like a messenger of peace, you would study the place and the lord, would understand his needs and try to become a friend, then you’d come back home with information and most likely an invitation for a meeting with your mother and your father, this helped Rhaenyra to secure her time on the throne, but she knew she should use as much help as she could get. 

“We heard from a land of men across the Narrow Sea.” The Master of Whisperers started. 

“In Essos?” You asked with a frown.

“Beyond the Free Cities, beyond the Dothraki Sea. Where none of us had ever been.” He continued and you nodded. 

Rhaenyra held your hand before telling you: “We want you to go there.”

“That’s further than anywhere I’ve ever been…” You looked at her with widened eyes. “And I thought we’d had enough allies by now.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest. 

“It will never be enough.” Your mother answered. “We need as much support as we can get, you know that.”

“I know, I know…” Your shoulders brushed and you looked down, she cradled your face between her hands. 

“What is It, sweet girl?” She asked gently, making you look at her. 

“It’s just… Will this ever end? I mean… You… Sending me far away from home to find people willing to help you, offering your help, preparing for a fight that never comes.”

“This fight is lurking between the curtains of your mother’s house.” Daemon intervened. “It will come… Sooner or later.” He walked to you, taking Rhaenyra’s place and holding your shoulders, he gently touched your chin making you look up at him. “I don’t like this as much as you do, but at this point you’ve done it too many times…” 

“Seafyre will protect you.” Rhaenyra stated.

“We trust you.” Daemon caught your attention. “It’ll be just like the others.” 

Everything was settled and the next day you were ready to go. Seafyre was waiting for you at the pit as you said your goodbyes to your parents. 

“We don’t know their costumes, be sure to protect yourself and your dragon no matter what.” Rhaenyra started. “Your well being is more important than any agreement, so take care.” She kissed your forehead, a tiny smile on her face. 

“Yes, your grace.” 

“Be strong.” Daemon warned you, a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

You smiled at him before walking towards your dragon, you caressed her neck and mounted her, looking back over your shoulder before flying. 

You were used to traveling long distances on the back of your dragon, that was never a problem for you, but the thought of going to a foreign land so far from Kings Landing was still leaving you uneasy. Would they welcome you? Would they be aggressive? You had no idea. And after crossing the Narrow Sea, the thought became stronger, so did your fear. 

You crossed the Free Cities and the Dothraki Sea in one day, but what you didn’t know was that, after crossing those lands you would meet with another sea, a darker one. You caressed your dragon one more time imagining it would be a longer journey than you expected, she would be more tired as soon as you arrived, that would stop you from coming back right after.  

“Keep going, girl.” You whispered in hopes she would hear you. 

By morning you finally reached the sight of land and blinked incredulously: there really was a faraway land after the end of the world. You landed at the beach, Seafyre was so exhausted she laid down immediately. 

“This was great work, my girl. You did great, I’ll find you something to eat.” You murmured caressing her sides. 

You clearly caught the attention of the people there, the little houses around the beach had a few people gathering outside just to stare at you and your dragon. Women and children looked dumbfounded at both of you.

“Look, Lagertha!” A tiny voice sounded some place into the houses, you searched for the source, and it didn’t take long for you to find it, a little boy rushed towards you with a little girl running right behind him. 

“HALI! ASA!” This time a woman screamed, she ran towards the children. 

You quickly grabbed the two before they reached Seafyre and crouched before them with a smile. 

“Calm down, she’s tired.” You warned. 

“Is this… Is this…” The little boy stuttered.

“A dragon. Her name is Seafyre.” You helped him.

“Seafyre…” The little girl repeated, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the dragon.

“Is she yours?” He asked and you nodded. “You came from the sky with her, flying on her back!” 

“Not from the sky, from-”

Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed the children’s shoulders and pulled them away from you, the woman was defensive and you understood, so you stood up and smiled at her, trying your best to look harmless. 

“What are you?” She asked with a growl. 

“A woman, just like you.” You offered your hand for her, she looked at you with a frown and didn’t take it. You withdrew your hand and smiled embarrassed. “I come from another kingdom, one that is far away from here. I come in peace.” You tried again.

“What kingdom? Are you from England?”

“England? Is it another kingdom?” It was your turn to look at her and ask with a confused frown.

“What kingdom are you from?” She insisted.

“Westeros, I’m from Westeros.”

“Never heard of It”

“Never heard of yours either, yet here I am.” 

She was dumbfounded, suspicious to say the least. Looking at you and at your dragon with a deep frown on her face, It was clear to you that these people never once saw a dragon in their lives, you were shocked but no so much, you were separated from each other by two large oceans, a dragon is just one of the probable differences between you. 

“I believe your name is Lagertha, right?” You tried but she didn’t respond. “I know you’re scared but I come from a long journey, and I need to feed my dragon. I see you have a few animals around, I wonder If you could give me one.” 

“What if I don’t?”

“I can’t control her when she’s hungry.” 

Lagertha looked at the gigantic animal and gulped. 

“Come.” She talked to the children who whined and struggled a little to follow her, but did it anyway.

You waited patiently until she came back with two big pigs, showing them to you. You nodded before taking the leash from her hands and taking the pigs towards your dragon. That would give her enough strength for hunting for herself afterwards. You put the two pigs in front of her, she sniffed the air and opened her eyes. She quickly ate the two pigs with a loud growl, startling Lagertha who walked back two or three steps, away from you both. 

“She’s sweet most of the time.” You said loud, caressing her sides as she calmly laid back down. “But not when she’s hungry.” You joked before looking back at Lagertha. 

“I think we should go to see the king.” She mumbled under her breath, trying to look away from your dragon and focus on your face.

“Don’t you think he would like to see her first?” You tried.

“Come here?”

“Yes. This way he can see the nature of my offer with his own eyes.” 

She didn’t answer, just left without saying a word. You stayed there for a few hours feeling a little stupid but before giving up, you saw a group of people coming to the beach, one of them in a chariot while the others followed. They talked among themselves and looked at you with widened eyes. You prepared for their approach, standing beside your sleeping dragon trying to look as peaceful as possible. 

“So, is this the beast?” Said the man coming down from the chariot. 

“Her name is Seafyre.” You corrected him, noticing he needed the help of a pair of crutches to walk. 

“You wanted to see the king. Here I am.” He answered with a smirk. “I’m Ivar.” 

“It’s an honor, Lord Ivar.” You bowed. “As I said to Lady Lagertha, I come in peace, I come with an offer.” 

“What kind of offer?” He asked suspiciously. 

“An alliance.” You answered. “I come as Princess of Westeros to offer you an alliance from my kingdom to yours. My mother, the Queen, is willing to fight for you with all her powers when you ask for, as long as you fight for us when we do the same.” 

“Do you have more of these?” He asked, a sparkle in his eyes as he looked at your dragon and you nodded. “Can you bring them to the fight?” 

“I can.” You smiled and he did the same. 

“You can enjoy our hospitality for as long as you need, then you can teach me more about your kingdom and tell me more about this offer and your dragons.” 

***

You were all gathered in a place they called “the great hall”. It was very cold, and reminded you of Winterfell. You sat around a fireplace at the center and everyone was paying close attention to you. Later you learned they were all related, the king and his brothers: Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd, their wives sat by their sides and all of them looked at you with widened eyes and suspicious looks. You were very different from them with your violet eyes and platinum hair, and your Targaryen attire in bold red drew attention against their black tunics. 

“Where’s this West- Westeros?” Ivar talked first. 

“Across the sea…” You started to answer but were quickly interrupted. 

“We traveled across the sea, never heard of a kingdom called Westeros.” He insisted. 

“You haven’t traveled enough.” You smiled and shrugged. “It took me almost two days on my dragon, and dragons travel fast.” 

“Why is it that you’re looking for an alliance so far from your home?” Ivar’s brother, Ubbe, asked you. 

“Why would you ask for an alliance?” You asked like it was obvious. “Cause it’s good for both parts.” 

“You gotta tell me what’s the good thing for you in It.” Ivar continued. 

You sighed. “My mother is the Queen, but she had to fight for her throne, she earned It… However not every lord of Westeros is comfortable with her power.” 

“You need support.” Ivar mumbled. 

“Don’t you need it?” You asked, a frown on your face. “Don’t you have your own wars to fight?”

“I can very much use the support princess, I mean we’re talking about dragons here…” He smiled. “But I don’t need It, I’ve been fighting my wars with my bare hands way before you came here.”

“So, you’re saying my offer doesn’t interest you?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s not what I’m saying…” He corrected you. “See, as I said, you are welcome to enjoy our hospitality here as long as you need. And we can keep talking about your offer in a way that can be good for both of us.”

Someone filled your cup one more time and you smiled kindly at her, Ivar poked at one of his brothers, Hvitserk, and whispered something in his ear, he looked at you before both of them left the table, excusing themselves, they crossed the curtains and vanished on the back of the great hall as you followed them with your eyes until you lost their sight. You looked around feeling very conscious of your own loneliness in that place, there really was a feast going on, they were quick to prepare the food, but all of them looked at you with fear in their eyes, whispering to each other while staring at you, being the center of attention never bothered you like that before, you drank from your cup and sighed, feeling frustrated already. 

“Are you sure?” Hvitserk asked Ivar, his voice low under his breath while his brother put himself a cup of ale. 

“I am sure. I can sense she needs us more than we need her…” He sipped from his cup before huffing out a frustrated laugh. “At least, in a way she needs us more.” 

“You think she’ll accept It?” Hvitserk insisted. 

“Well, why not?” Ivar shrugged. 

“She’s already offering us her dragons, I mean, she might feel like she doesn’t need to give us anything else.”

“So, we’ll convince her.”

The first rays of sun crossed the cracks of the windows and woke you up, painfully reminding you you were not at your own chambers back in King’s Landing. You sat at the bed and stretched a little, seeing a few clean clothes laid down beside your bed alongside a bow with fresh water. After freshening yourself and changing your clothes, you left the room they prepared for you, walked towards the noise you heard coming from the great hall, but as soon as you crossed the curtains, they stopped talking. 

“Princess!” The same little girl from the other day ran towards you, offering her hand for you to hold, and you smiled accepting her offer. “Come sit by my side.” 

“Of course.” You sat by her side and were quickly followed by the same little boy. “What are your names?”

“I’m Asa.” She answered with a smile. “This is my brother Hali.” 

“It’s very nice to meet you both.” 

“Do you have other dragons??” The boy asked excitedly.

“I gotta tell you, every person in my family has a dragon.” You answered proudly. “My mother’s dragon is called Syrax and my father’s, Caraxes. All my brothers and sisters have dragons of their own.” 

“How many dragons do you have?” Ivar questioned. 

“A lot. Like I said, every person from my family has one.” 

“Where did you find them?” Little Asa asked. 

“Well, that’s a long story.” 

“We’d love to hear It.” Hvitserk was the one to speak this time, you looked at him and nodded. 

You spent the whole morning telling the stories about your family, how they managed to escape from Old Valyria with a few dragons, how the family remained on Dragon Stone for centuries before Aegon decided to finally fly to King's Landing. They paid attention to everything you said, especially the kids who seemed in awe with all the stories about battles and dragons. You learned that Hali and Asa were Torvi’s children and that she was Ubbe’s wife. Ivar was married to another woman called Freydis, and Sigurd and Hvitserk were still unmarried. 

“And he was as big as the sky?” Hali asked with big eyes.

“Balerion could strike a shadow over a whole city when he flew.” You answered with a smile. 

“Did you see him?” Hali’s eyes sparkled.

“He passed before I was born, but we still have a dragon from his time, she’s almost as big as he was, her name is Vhagar.” 

“Does she belong to anyone?” Torvi asked you as curious as her children.

“My sister, Baela, is her rider.” 

“Isn’t she too old?” Ubbe questioned.

“She’s very old, that’s why she’s so big, we suspect her time is already coming to an end like It came to Balerion, we’re just waiting.” 

By the end of the day you were all gathered at the beach, watching as Seafyre flew around. You felt when a tiny hand grabbed yours and looked down, little Asa stared at you with hopeful eyes. 

“Do you want to fly with me?” You asked crouching in front of her. 

“REALLY?” She asked excitedly. 

“Really! Go and ask your mother.” 

The little girl ran towards her parents, Ubbe caught her in his arms and they both walked towards you with suspicious looks. 

“Isn’t It dangerous?” Torvi asked you. 

“No, you can trust me.”

They looked at each other before putting the little girl back on the ground, they nodded, letting her come to you, you grabbed her hand and walked towards the sea shore, you called Seafyre’s name and she immediately came to you, landing right by your side. You rubbed her sides before helping Asa on her top, mounting behind her very quickly. 

“You can hold here.” You pointed to the handle of the saddle, whispering in her ear. “Or you can hold my arms…” 

Asa was very brave, laughing and screaming through the whole time you were flying, she held your arms firmly, but for a moment she dropped it and raised them up her head, making you hold her against your chest with a little more strength. When you landed back on the beach she was already begging you to fly again, but her brother, Hali, seemed to have his own plans. You gave both children a few rides on your dragon, carefully handing them back to their parents afterwards and promising to do the same the next morning. 

After a few hours you saw yourself alone on the beach, watching as Seafyre made a show of eating fishes from the ocean. You felt a presence beside you, looking around to find Hvitserk standing a few feets away from you, you smiled to yourself imagining he feared to be close to you because of your dragon. 

“You can come closer, you know.” You told him and he looked at you, his cheeks reddened a bit and he looked down before approaching. 

“Hali and Asa are way more brave than I am.” He smiled to himself before looking at you, as if he was taking a moment, his smile slowly died on his face and he looked forward before starting to speak again. “Princess, I have to talk to you.”

“Sure.” You answered quickly. 

“My brother has an offer he wants to make to your mother.” 

“This can be arranged, you can prepare your ships to follow me back to King's Landing to have a meeting with her.” You reassured him and he nodded. Both of you stayed in silence for a moment and you felt him uneasy. “But that’s not the only thing you want to ask me, is it?” 

Hvitserk looked down at his own feet, his arms firmly crossed behind his back. “No… It isn’t.”

“Lord Hvitserk I can assure you that my family always respects our alliances, you have no reason to fear, we’ll keep our word.” 

“But you understand we need more than your word, right? We’re not very much of a threat to you, I mean we don’t have dragons, and we need to protect ourselves.” 

This time you looked away, but immediately felt his gaze on you. It made you warm all over for some reason. 

“Is that the nature of your offer, my lord?”

“Yes.” 

A gust of wind crossed your body and you hugged yourself, knowing exactly when Hvitserk stopped looking at you by the way your skin raised in goosebumps because of the cold breeze. 

“It’s a marriage offer.” Hvitserk continued. 

“My mother is already married.” You joked. 

“Are you?”

“I’m not looking for a husband, Lord Hvitserk.” 

“You’re looking for an alliance.”

“In the name of my family, yes. But I am not selling myself in order to get It.” You looked at him with a frown. “And I thought your brother was already married.”

“He is.”

“Than who…”

“Me.”

Both of you looked at each other at the same time. Hvitserk was a handsome man, beautiful green eyes staring intently at you, studying your face like he wanted to know what you were thinking, he caught your eye before, especially that morning when he seemed so invested in your stories, but at that moment you didn’t know if he was truly interested in you or It was just because of his brother’s marriage offer. Seafyre landed by your side startling him, who walked back a step or two, looking dumbfounded at her.

“Do you ever fear her?” Hvitserk asked you while still looking at your dragon. 

“Never. She would never hurt me.” You answered under your breath. 

“You said you can’t control her when she’s hungry.” He insisted. 

“She’s very protective of me, she might resent me for a bit, but never hurt me.” 

You looked at her, rubbing her skin while Hvitserk looked at you with a sparkle in his eyes, he was mesmerized.

“She’s a wonderful animal.” He breathed out.

“She is…” You responded, taking a step away when you noticed she was about to fly again. “You know…” You sighed, looking forward while she flew away. “My mother married another man before she married my father. It was someone chosen for her, someone they said would be good for her. She wasn’t fully happy with him, this I know of, because she always loved my father. Eventually her first husband died and she could finally marry him…” You looked at him. “She promised me she would never force me into marriage, she didn’t want a life of sadness for me, she won’t accept your brother’s offer.”

“Would you?” He insisted.

”I don’t see marriage as a political deal.” You told him. “I want to marry out of love, not out of duty.”

“Are you already saying no?” He asked under his breath. 

“Yes.”

That night you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning on the bed, you couldn’t keep your mind off of that man and how you felt warmer under his gaze. You sighed, stared at the ceiling and mumbled to yourself: “I need some air”. You changed your clothes and left your bedroom, walking over to the beach to clear your head. As soon as you got there you noticed Hvitserk sitting on the sand, surprisingly close from Seafyre, a cup in hand while he seemed to be talking to himself. 

“Can’t sleep?” You asked as you approached. 

“Too many thoughts in my head.” He answered after drinking from his cup. “You?”

“Mine too.” You answered, looking at him. 

“Yeah… A lot of things to think about, right?”

“Yeah…” You sat by his side, staying in silence for a moment, feeling the warm breeze of the ocean on your face. You looked at him as he drank another sip of his cup, Seafyre slept peacefully a few feets away from you both and you smiled to yourself before speaking again. “I see you’re not scared of her anymore.” You nudged his arm and he looked at the dragon. 

“I guess I’m too drunk to think of self preservation.” He answered and you smiled. Another moment of silence surrounded you both before he spoke again. “Would you take me for a ride?”

“You mean now?” You asked him with a frown and he nodded. “Yeah… Sure.” 

You approached Seafyre and caressed her sides, waking her up whispering something in valyrian, Hvitserk stood up behind you, nervously waiting. You mounted her and offered your hand for him, he walked hesitantly towards you, holding your hand before mounting the dragon right behind you, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist, sending goosebumps all over your body, you trembled. 

“Hold tight.” You warned him before flying and he heard you, squeezing you tight between his arms. 

 “I am…” He mumbled into your ear. 

Despite the cold wind cutting roughly through your body, you felt warm. Hvitserk’s hands held firmly on your stomach, you had your back against his chest while he rested his chin on your shoulders. To have him so close brought a different feeling to you, a sort of dizziness that would blur your sight, raise the beating of your heart and make your hands start sweating. You turned your head and looked at him, he had his eyes closed, face slightly red from the wind.

“Open your eyes.” You mumbled under your breath.

You watched as he obeyed you, opening his eyes a little hesitantly, blinking incredulously as he looked forward. You smiled to yourself while making your dragon go up faster and Hvitserk held you tighter. Your skin prickled, goosebumps spread all over your body as you felt his own pressed closely against yours. 

“This… This is-” He whispered in your ear and you trembled again.

He then looked at you, your faces so close you could feel his hot breath against your cheeks, you gulped, quickly looking forward. The ride was cut short, you feared for yours and Hvitserk’s safety considering how much he affected you and as you landed, he easily dismounted your dragon, offering his hand to help you do the same, as your feet touched the sand, your legs betrayed you, shaking from whatever feeling that man was causing you and you needed help to stand, his hands wrapped around your waist one more time and he used his own body to keep you still. Your hands went straight to his shoulders and you looked up at him. 

Hvitserk was even more beautiful from that close, his lips were a thin line as he stared intently at you, your stomach turned again and before you even thought about moving away, he kissed you. His lips softly touched yours for a second and you immediately closed your eyes, like reflex, he then kissed you properly, lips crashing against yours hungrily, tongue massaging yours into your mouth, when you ran out of breath and you separated, a thin line of saliva kept you connected for a moment before parting. His hands came to cup up your cheeks, your noses touching while you both looked into each other's eyes, gazing, lips swollen, still wet from your kiss. Seafyre growled right beside you, startling you both and making you move away from each other. 

“Someone is jealous I guess.” Hvitserk said, rubbing the back of his neck a little embarrassed. 

“I guess we should go back… And try to sleep.” You mumbled, still dizzy. “It’s late.” 

Hvitserk nodded and offered his hand for you to hold and you both walked back to your bedrooms. He walked you towards yours and kissed your cheek goodbye before going to his. As you laid down on your bed again, something was different. You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes and touched your own lips, his face coming immediately to your mind as you thought about that kiss. That wasn’t your first kiss, of course, you had your little flings as you were growing up, but nothing ever left you so uneasy, Hvitserk made you feel different. 

The next morning you were back at the beach, wondering If you could just fly back to your home, trying to avoid Hvitserk’s thoughts but failing as the kiss found a way to crawl back to your mind. As a figment of your imagination, he showed up at the beach, walking towards you with a little smile on his face. 

“You were very silent this morning.” He told you as he approached. 

“Hali and Asa weren’t there to make me talk too much.” You joked, avoiding his gaze. 

“What are you thinking?”

“Coming back home, I guess It’s time.” 

He stayed silent for a moment and, again, you felt when his gaze abandoned your body, the ocean breeze engulfing you uncomfortably. 

“Seafyre is well rested.” You spoke again. 

“What about our alliance?”

“I told you, I’m not willing to sacrifice my entire life in an unhappy marriage just to make an alliance.”

“Would that be so bad?” His hand carefully touched your forearm and you finally looked at him. 

“Are you really interested in me, Lord Hvitserk?” You asked him back, staring intently at him. “You want me, or my dragons?”

He caressed your cheeks with the back of his hand and you unconsciously leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. 

“I already know you’re the most incredible woman I have ever met, I just want to get to know you more…” 

“What are you asking me?”

“To give me one chance, I want to be your lover, want to conquer your love.” 

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