#ubbe ragnarson one shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginesmai · 10 months

Text

Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson (7)

Barely alive, it’s been a couple of rought weeks BUT I’M BACK. Other parts: Once Upon A Fairy Tale Masterlist

Plot: Ubbe and you take important decisions, about your future and the future of your kingdoms, not knowing that something bigger than you is happening outside the castle’s walls.

When Ecbert told Ragnar about your decision to stay, the king didn’t look surprised at all. He humored you with your father, agreeing about the old age and bad knees. They both exaggerated their physical conditions between laughs, and concurred that they needed to take the hunting trip easy.

From behind your father, you watched with a soft smile the interaction.

You hadn’t noticed until that year how close your father and Ragnar were. Back at Wessex, you didn’t have many friends, and not a relationship as close as them. As you stared at their interaction, you felt your heart growing bigger, feeling that you had taken the right decision.

The moment was cut short when Ubbe and Sigurd appeared. Apparently, Aslaug had had a bad night and wouldn’t be gracing you with her presence. And, since Hvitserk hadn’t shown up for breakfast, he had declined going with them.

The hunting raid was complete and ready to go, you guessed. And it was time to share with Ubbe the news.

Both kings looked at you when the brothers arrived. Before you could notice the difference between them, Ubbe talked.

“I’ve been looking for you” he lifted the corner of his mouth, not completing the smile. “Good morning, father. King Ecbert”

“Ubbe” your father nodded in recognition.

“Where is your saddle?”

Indeed, while Sigurd was wearing his riding clothes, Ubbe was still in his usual, prince-ish robes. Not only he was wearing a long, cobalt tunic with silver embroidery, but he didn’t carry the usual smell of staying in the barn for hours.

When his brother rolled his eyes and walked away, Ubbe smiled. He had had enough time to prepare his horse, clean his riding boots and choose his favorite saddle. If he had wanted, he could have gone to the hunting raid, just as it was planned for him to go.

He liked to hunt. Like the adrenaline of chasing a prey and the silence of the forest. When they hunted, his father and him went back to his childhood, where they shared a deep bond. But he had decided against it.

“I won’t be accompanying you today, after all” Ubbe explained. “There are… matters I need to take care of. Maybe I can help princess Y/N packing”

“You won’t have to” Ecbert interrupted him.

“Oh”

Looking at your father, Ubbe lowered his head. His idea had been to stay behind with the excuse of helping you to pack. He didn’t know why, but after you were interrupted in his chambers, he had felt the need to spend one last day with you. Hvitserk had left the castle early in the morning to complete his weekly activities in the cabin, which included two brunets’ servants and the daughter of the baker.

So there was little chance of being interrupted.

He tried not to show his disappointment, because if you didn’t have to pack bags, then he didn’t have a reason to stay.

“We’ll be… staying. For another day” you explained, not meeting his eyes. “Because my father might get tired in the hunting raid, and it’s a long way back to Wessex. If it’s not a problem”

When Ragnar didn’t answer, Ubbe realized you were talking to him.

It took him by surprise that you were staying, but it was even more surprising that it was just for a day. Because he had known, deep down, that his intention today was to convince you to stay. That, during the last seven days, he had tried; first unconsciously, then as a choice. He started the summer mildly convinced that he had to marry you, and now he didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

Just that a day was an awful short amount of time.

“You could always check the old storage room” Ragnar proposed finally, breaking the silence. “It’s full of games and objects you used as children, and I’ve been asking you to take a look for a while. Maybe Y/N can help you”

“She can. She’s really organized” Ecbert contributed. “Besides, it is a bad day to stay outside. Just let these old dogs enjoy the hunting raid and find something to do. We will be back soon. Don’t want to get too tired”

“Indeed. Only God knows how many days in bed will earn us the hunting trip” Ragnar started at you with an amused smile. “Might be weeks”

“Might be, my dear friend. Shall we go?”

Both kings turned around and walked towards the carriage, that would take them to the designated part of the forest. Where the rest of the town would be waiting, with their dogs and bows ready.

While they walked away, you thought about how lucky you were. Your father would willingly stay for the whole summer if that’s what you wanted to, if that made you happy. He would also cancel the hunting raid and ride back to Wessex himself.

You stayed in silence as they got into the carriage and told the driver to move, until they drew up dust from the path and Sigurd kicked his horse to lead the way.

You had never had any problem talking with Ubbe. With remarks or mean words, you always kept the conversation going until you were torn apart by the adults or one of you couldn’t physically talk. But while the first drops of rain hit the ground, you kept quiet, not knowing what to say.

The meaning behind your decision was clear – that you wanted to try again, that you were willing to finally accept his hand. That you had consciously turned away the chance of changing your fate, consciously had chosen to marry him, without a proposal or weeding plans.

Staying meant you had admitted your intention of moving forwards, to whatever future you could hope for, and now it was Ubbe’s turn to answer. The decision of staying instead of going to the hunting raid could be an answer, but he didn’t know your decision yet.

So you waited, as rain started to wet your hair and soak your dress.

You waited in silence, until a cape was wrapped around your shoulders and a pair of hands turned you away from the path your father had just disappeared from.

“We should get inside” Ubbe spoke through the rain, that had gotten heavy a matter of seconds. “Fuck. It’s – fuck!”

“Oh my god” you couldn’t help but laugh when suddenly you were hit with what felt like a gallon of water.

You let yourself be lead away from the main door while Ubbe wrapped an arm around your shoulder. With a natural instinct, you shifted closer to him until you fit under his arm.

It wasn’t funny, but you couldn’t stop laughing, and soon, Ubbe was laughing too. It wasn’t the pearly smile you had seen that day at the courtyard, that flashed in your mind without your permission. It was different, and at the same time, wonderful.

You ran through the rain, not tripping against each other’s feet by luck. Servants that were taking cover in the barns stared when you passed by, and a man with bulky clothes tried to stop Ubbe with a scandalized scream.

Once you finally took cover, you were soaked. The rain had drenched Ubbe’s cape, now heavy on your shoulders, and the bottom of your dress was full of mud. Even your socks, under thick books, were wet. Still smiling, you stared at Ubbe as he moved your hair out of your face, letting you see his full smile. It was beautiful, his chipped front tooth a reminder of you.

Although he was too drenched to the bones, his hands felt warm, or maybe it was your cheeks. Or maybe you were running a fever and you were hallucinating, because suddenly, it was a déjà vu from that morning. He was looking at your lips and you were wondering what it would feel to stay forever, not just for a day.

His finger hovered over your mouth, a ghost touch.

“You look like a wet rat”

“And you smell like a wet horse”

He scoffed and for a second, you thought he was going to actually kiss you. That he was going to move forward and you were going to meet him at the middle. In a perfect fantasy, he would ask you to stay and you would choose to, not using excuses or prologues.

You would never know, because thunder roared in the sky and the moment was broken.

What Ragnar defined as an old storage room was everything but that. It could have been a room, a long time ago, with high windows and a clear view of the forest. But someone had decided to start accumulating things inside, and now you could barely take two steps straight.

You hadn’t bothered bathing, neither had Ubbe. As if not spending every minute of the day together was an offense, you changed clothes with your backs to each other, not even using the bathroom. You chose a dark green dress that showed your boots, comfortable to move, and Ubbe had put on a different tunic.

He showed you the storage room, moving the curtains. Everything was covered with white, dusty sheets, and you were in for a long morning.

“I threw Hvitserk down the stairs with one of these” Ubbe said from behind you, breaking the comfortable silence in the room. “He broke through a window and didn’t even get a bruise”

You looked away from the pile of children’s clothes that you were trying to organize. He was holding up a large piece of wood attached to one wheel, the other missing. Indeed, you remembered using a similar one in some occasions, although you didn’t have a specific memory with it.

Between mountains of garbage, you had found many children’s toys and clothes. After spending a lifetime of summers together, you had gathered a good amount of entertainment options. In a useless attempt of bringing you closer, your fathers had brought you everything a child would want or need. Not realizing until it was too late that you would hit each other with it before sharing.

“Didn’t you race me with one of those in the gardens?” you tried to remember, getting closer.

“You were winning so I tried to shorten through my mother’s roses” he chuckled. “She got mad, but you were furious”

“You destroyed every last of them!” you laughed too, remembering that summer.

It was one of the first ones you spent in Mercia, and you had never used a toy like that one. Thinking you wouldn’t know how, Ubbe had raced you and you had won, and in the meantime, he had destroyed half of his mother’s garden. You remembered her scolding and feeling furious at him.

So angry, that you used his favorite wooden sword as a throwing dagger during the next day.

You moved closer to him, looking at the piece of wood. Even if you had argued more than talked, it wasn’t always boring. There were games and competitions. When you were all young, Ubbe didn’t discriminate you from being a girl, and included you in the games where he thought he could win. Somewhere in the way that changed and your worlds drifted apart.

“You care too much about flowers” he said, raising from where he was sitting.

“It’s not I have many things to care about in here. I can’t cook, train or ride, and needlework is definitely not one of my passions. No matter how much your mother tries” you explained. There was only a foot between you two. “Flowers are… nice. They are beautiful”

“If you want to, I could assign some more servants to the garden. So they can help you take care of them”

If you want to stay, I could make you happy, just so you know

Ubbe let the hidden meaning clear. Because if you left after your father rested, then the garden was the least of your concerns. He couldn’t care less about the flowers or the garden, and he knew right then, that if it made you stay, he would send his whole army to take care of those flowers.

In that dark room, crowded with objects from your past, he waited for you to answer. It was impossible that you hadn’t understood what he meant, and by the way you stared at him, he knew. In just seven days, he had made a decision that had been asked from him for sixteen years. Sixteen years under the pressure of getting to know you and take you as his wife.

Only when you were no longer under that much pressure, he finally saw it clear.

“It would be nice” you answered, your voice small. “You could help me sometimes. If you want to”

Through the window, another lighting broke the sky. The storm was now loud and wild, thunders and lighting accompanying the rain. Someone appeared through the trees riding a horse at full speed, towards the castle. It would take them a while to reach the gates, and you didn’t notice them.

Not when Ubbe’s blue eyes were staring right into your soul, and when yours couldn’t decide where to look – to them or to his mouth.

“You’re staying” he tried, not a question but a fact. A need.

“If you want me to”

Before you could notice the smoke that was raising from the middle of the forest, he crossed the invisible line he had drawn sixteen years ago and pressed his lips against yours. They were rough and demanding, not like the shy, first kisses you had shared with boys in your kingdom.

You could have fallen if it wasn’t for the table that was behind you, or for his hand that pressed your hips against his. There was no air between you two, no space for second guesses. Only his lips and hands on your body, and yours on his neck.

One of yours caressed the back of his head, your thumb brushing the soft hair where his braid started. Not knowing what to you with the other one, you held yourself together by holding onto the desk. Afraid he would let you go and you would crash into the ground, knees turned into jelly.

But he didn’t let you.

With his free hand holding your head straight, demanding more of you, he broke free for air. His pupils were blown, almost no trace of blue behind them. No one had ever touched you the way he was, and you understood that no one would in the near future, if you had a saying in it.

Ubbe didn’t move his hand from your face. Instead, giving you time to push him away, he lowered it down your neck. Something inside him screamed to let go, to forget about what was expected from him and lower his hand more, until there was no turning back. The way you were looking at him, the way you weren’t moving, made it harder.

But he resisted and let his hand go to his original place, to your cheek.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked after a long minute, his voice rough and deep. “We don’t – you don’t have to. Not even if you stay”

“Shut up”

Once more, you crashed your lips against his and he let you, smiling against them. You could feel every curve and corner of his body that you had guessed that morning under the covers. The room’s temperature grew in seconds, and when the hand on your waist moved lower, you let him.

Sixteen years of frustration, hate and disagreement were forgotten as you felt your skirt move higher, his leg making its way between yours.

One thing was to sleep in the same room, to let people assume you were together, but another one was to actually do it. Before you could regret your decision or let your brain caught up with your heart, someone knocked at the door urgently.

“It’s the king! The king is dead!”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Taglist:

@66vikings

56 notes · View notes

xlittlefiend · 2 years

Text

GOT X VIKINGS SHIPS

Ragnarson Cross Over Ships I plan to write stories and/or one shots with. Enjoy. ~

Feel free to comment ship names, I’m trying to see something lol!

1. Hvitserk x Margaery

—

2. Ivar x Daenerys

—

3. Ubbe X Sansa

—

4. Bjorn x Rhaenyra

I know everyone leaves out Sigurd, but I’m unapologetically uninterested in writing stuff for him. Who knows if that will change in the future. This post was basically to jot down a to-do list.

Ta-Ta!

—

26 notes · View notes

spaghettificationandpretzels · 2 years

Text

The Taste of Heaven Prologue

Series Masterlist

Contains: Mild teasing, mild fluff, black mould as a plot device.

970 Words

Comment if you want to be tagged

After years of study and effort, you finally secure your dream job, as one of the head curators at the best museum in New York. After inheriting a huge brownstone you're looking for a roommate when your best friend Ubbe comes up with a suggestion, his younger brother Hvitserk. Better yet, you're a food historian and he's a three Michelin star chef.

"Ubbe, please be careful, my books are in there." Ubbe laughed and lifted the box above your head. You could hear Hvitserk and Ivar bricking in the background, Ubbe having roped them in to help you unpack.

You had met Asulag eldest son while out looking for supplies to restore a cookbook for the 1910s that you had found at an estate sale, he was at the store himself looking for rabbit skin glue to fix one of his father's old maps when you struck up a conversation and you might as well have been best friends then and there.

Soon enough, you met his younger brothers and then Bjorn. You got along best with Hvitserk and Ivar, being closest in age to Hvitserk and sharing certain health issues with the youngest Ragnarson.

Hvitserk was a hard man to nail down, you shared a lot in common, considering he was a three-star Michelin chef and you were an expert in historical food but you didn't really talk about much else. In some ways, you were grateful, your crush on the tall man made it hard to form sentences. Having said that, when you did talk, you had nothing but fun and he was always picking your brain for a new idea for his restaurant.

"I'll be careful, don't worry." You shook your head and went outside, grabbing another box from the truck, "hey y/n. I'm gonna head out the to store and get stuff for lunch." Ivar rolled his eyes at his older brother, "thank you Hvitserk but that's not necessary, there's plenty of stuff in the house and I'm sure you don't want to cook any more than you already do."

He chuckled, "nah, I want to do it. Since you won't come into the restaurant I have to show off my skills somehow." You shook your head, "well I won't be eating any foamed pizza or other fancy shit like that." Hvitserk smiled like a movie star, "maybe if you came to the restaurant, you'd know we serve good hearty meals."

Ivar waved his hand, "just let him go y/n, he won't stop until you let him cook you something." You rolled your eyes, "fine but nothing too time consuming, we all have things to do."

Hvitserk was back half an hour later, loaded up with items, "what did you buy dude?" He smiled, "I'm just making chicken fried steak and salad, don't worry." Ivar shot you all look, I told you so.

"Fine Vitty just don't make a mess, I just got done unpacking and cleaning the kitchen." He nodded and went off to start cooking while you went back to unpacking your bedroom.

The wonderful smell of homecooked food began to pour from your kitchen, you could hear the soft tap tap of the sharp knife on the cutting board as Hvitserk chopped the onion for the gravy.

"WHEN'S LUNCH?" Ivar's voices boomed from the other room, even though you were within reaching distance of Hvitserk he still yelled at the top of his voice, "thirty minutes." You put your head in your hands, "you don't need to yell." You heard a soft chuckled from the other room and Ubbe chimed in, "sorry about my brothers, they're not as civilised as me."

Soon enough, Hvitserk was handing you the plates to take to the dining room and you and the three men were sitting down at the large round table, "ooo I feel like King Arthur." You cast a glance at Hvitserk, his face broken out into a boyish smile, "yeah, sir dickhead."

Ubee looked at you like you were a small child, "behave children." You hated to admit it but lunch was amazing, it tasted like something someone's grandmother would make. As much as it pained you, you told Hvitserk as much and had Ivar to kicked him under the table, he would have bragged for the rest of the day otherwise.

You insisted that you clean up while Hvitserk take some time to himself but then you heard him answer his phone and walk outside, he spoke to the person on the other end and then came in looking upset.

"Fucking shit." You went up to him, taking in his worried expression, "what's wrong?" Hvitserk shook his head in annoyance, "my shitty apartment building has black mould, I've been told to vacate while it's cleaned which could take months."

Ubbe came over with a strange expression on his face, "well there's no room with me or Ivar. You're going to have to get a hotel or move back in with mum, dad and Lagertha." You knew their parents lived an alternative lifestyle but you weren't one to judge.

"Unless y/n is willing to offer you a room." Ubbe had picked up on how you felt about his brother so you had no idea what he was doing. But when you saw the expression on Hvitserk's face you couldn't say no.

"Why not, the house is big enough and it would be nice to have some company. I don't have to start work at the museum for another two weeks so I can help you get settled. I can even get someone from the microbiology department to help ensure you don't transfer the mould here. You can go pick your room now if you like."

You were being wrapped in a hug before you had the chance to catch your breath, "you are a lifesaver woman, this place is so much closer to work too which means no more getting up at 5am." He ran off up the two flights of stairs to the bedroom on the third floor and you were left to unpack with Ubbe and Ivar.

Ivar put a hand on your shoulder and looked into your eyes with such sympathy.

"Good luck."

Part 1

Tag list: @kelly1buck2ats @sapphicmal @profoundtyrantharmony @malevolentmagnificence @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

52 notes · View notes

imaginesmaimasterlists · 4 years

Text

You can request about any of the characters above, or any other masterlists I have (here), always following the Requests Rules. My main blog is @imaginesmai

💕:Fluff

🎈: Funny

💋: Smut

😭: Angst

⭐: Personal favourite.

🥇: The most popular fic in each category (it might change).

Angst Alphabet

Fluff Alphabet

Prompt List 1

Kink-November

UBBE RAGNARSON

25th of December (1) (2) (MILITARY AU): 😭

When Ubbe’s gone, the only thing you have left is hope. (ON GOING)

Dance Teacher (1): 💕

Ubbe’s Friday is not going as well as he would have liked it. Yet meeting his daughter’s dance teacher is going to change that. (ON GOING)

First time being a dad (MODERN AU) 🎈

Heartbeat AU (1) (2) : 💕 😭

Your heart doesn’t allow you to have a normal life, but it does beat faster when you meet your new doctor. (COMPLETE)

Imagine 1

Imagine 2

Imagine 3

Imagine 4

⭐ I’m with you: 😭

Ubbe wants to make peace with the Saxons. He doesn’t care what it takes, but when you decided to follow him in the middle of the night, he’s not so sure anymore.

⭐ Lagertha’s Daughter (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) : 😭

Lagertha plans on attacking Kattegat, soon, and you, her daughter and Ubbe’s lover, just ask her to make you a promise (COMPLETE)

My Viking Prince (1) (2) (3) : 💕 💋

You’re Alfred sister, princess Y/N. All your life, you have believed that love is all about pleasing your husband and making him happy or that’s what your mother told you. Now, prince Ubbe is making you see things differently. (COMPLETE)

Once upon a fairy tale: (Preface)

Ubbe Ragnarson knew three things: that he would inherit the throne when his father died, that he should get married soon to assure that throne, and that he hated Y/N Ealhmunding. And those three facts were related. Because your hand had been promised to him since you were young kids, and now it’s time to fulfill that promise.

As princess of king Ecbert Ealhmunding, you also knew three things: that the laws for a kingdom ruler weren’t fair, that your father had done everything he could for you and your future, and that you hated Ubbe Ragnarson. Not only you hated that they had decided your future without you, or that you were expected to leave every braincell behind once you married, but also that the same boy who you had hated since childhood would be your husband.

Every summer, Mercia and Wessex try to make you both fall in love. And they fail.

But this summer is different, because a series of tragic and unfortunate events brings you closer to Ubbe than ever.

You’re no longer mischievous kids pulling pranks on each other, but responsible adults looking for what’s best for your country. And trying to survive in the meantime.

Say that again:

Ivar has never liked you, Ubbe Christian lover, and he makes that very clear.

⭐ The sweet baker and the bad biker (1) (2) (3) (4) (5): (vikings x SOA crossover) 😭

Ubbe, as the new president of SAMCRO, goes to the new bakery to see who is the owner and if he or she is a threat for Charming. He finds you, a sweet, cute and innocent girl who doesn’t hesitate to make him fall in love (COMPLETE)

🥇 They learn about periods 🎈

Together: 😭

Sigurd’s death threaten to tear not only your world but your relationship apart.

What you deserve (1): 😭

Ubbe knows that you’re pregnant with his son or daughter and that he needs to leave Kattegat if he wants to protect you. What he doesn’t know is if you’re going to make it. (ON GOING)

Winner’s prize : 💕 😭

Ubbe has put his life again at risk, but this time there are things in between that makes it different

Your daughter’s first boyfriend 🎈

HVITSERK RAGNARSON

⭐ Angst Alphabet (Tattoo Artist!Hvitserk) (1) 😭

- N for Nothing 😭

- O for Offended 😭

- P for Pressure 😭

- Q for Quake 😭

- R for Rob 😭

- S for Surgery 😭

- T for Time 😭

- X for Xx 😭

Crush AU (1) (2): 💕 💋

Shitty job, shitty life, too much stress. What’s better to solve those problems that your hot, handsome and funny roommate’s brother? (COMPLETE)

⭐ First time being a dad (MODERN AU)

🎈

Him (MODERN AU): 😭

Hvitserk and you are seeing each other behind your boyfriend’s back, his half-brother Magnus. And leaving the latest isn’t easy.

His lady: 😭

You’re his lady, he’s your prince.

Home: 😭

What do you call home when you have lost everything? You come back to Kattegat to fight Ivar, but it’s hard to know that Hvitserk will be there too.

Imagine 2

NSFW Alphabet 💋

Octopus: 💕

Hvitserk is sick and just wants cuddles. (can be read as the second part of him)

Rewrite the stars (Song inspired) 💕

Soon to be husband: 😭

Hvitserk’s back from raiding only to find you promised to another man. It’s up to him do something or not about it.

Taken : 😭

You are taken by the saxons, along with your soon to be husband, Hvitserk. And you do not hesitate in protecting him, not caring about the consequences

🥇 ⭐ They learn about periods 🎈

They don’t know about us 💕

You know that Kattegat will never approve of your relationship with Hvitserk, not matter how hard you try. But you love him anyway.

⭐ Your daughter’s first boyfriend 🎈

IVAR RAGNARSON

Angst Alphabet 😭

Checkmate: 😭 💕

Ivar hasn’t always been the murderous king we know. There was a spark initiating the fire.

First time being a dad (MODERN AU) 🎈

Quiet days: 💕 💋

Ivar is in a bad mood and it seems like only you can fix that

🥇 They learn about periods 🎈

Your daughter’s first boyfriend 🎈

BJORN RAGNARSON

Angst Alphabet 😭

First time being a dad (MODERN AU)

🎈

Imagine 1

🥇 They learn about periods 🎈

Your daughter’s first boyfriend 🎈

ALFRED

Something that there wasn’t there before (Song inspired) 💕

203 notes · View notes

seriefic · 4 years

Text

3000 Dreams chapter 3 is coming tomorrow, are you excited?

Any guess about what is going to happen?

#3000 Dreams #Vikings #Ubbe #Ubbe x reader #fanfic #Scenario #One Shot #Ubbe Lothbrok #ubbe ragnarson

3 notes · View notes

fangirlings-things · 4 years

Text

VIKINGS MASTERLIST

• GIF IMAGINES

+ HEADCANONS

(•) ONE SHOTS / LONG FICS

∞ PREFERENCES

★ MOODBOARDS

↛ Ragnar Lothbrok

• Being King Ecbert's daughter and Ragnar falling for you when raiding England

• Being a Valkyrie, banished from the halls of the Aesir by Odin for disobedience and sentenced to live in Midgard. You end up in a town called Kattegat and meet it's King, Ragnar Lothbrok

• Ragnar noticing how much Athelstan likes you and teasing him about it

( • ) Lay me down (1K music event)

(•) Reckless King

↛ Lagertha

• Being Harald and Halfdan's younger sibling and falling for Lagertha

(•) Eternal

+ Lagertha being in love with you would include headcanons

↛ Bjorn Ironside

• Being a young queen from a foreign country that Bjorn and Halfdan visit while traveling the Mediterranean sea together and while you negotiate with the vikings for their departure, Bjorn feels attracted to you and decides to act on it

(•) More than words (1K music event)

↛ Ubbe

• Being Alfred's twin, Athelstan's daughter, and Ubbe falling in love with you when staying in Wessex

• Being Ubbe's best friend since childhood and when swimming together one day he suddenly asks you to marry him

(•) Only the Gods knew

(•) Jealous (1K music event)

• Being Lagertha's daughter from another marriage and Ubbe falls for you, even though he wants revenge on your mother

(•) Ocean Eyes Masterlist

• Ubbe struggling to find the courage to talk to a friend he secretly loves

↛ Hvitserk

• Being there for Hvitserk when he is going through a rough phase and always arguing with his brothers in his behalf

(•) Lucky (1K music event)

(•) Wicked game (1K music event)

(•) "What the hell do you want me to say?" ; "What about I'm sorry?"

• Letter to Maddie

↛ Sigurd Snake in the Eye

• Being Sigurd's twin and always fighting him because of how bad he treats Ivar

+ Jealous! Sigurd x wife!reader headcanons

(•) I walk the line (1K music event)

• Taking care of Sigurd after he had a fight with Ivar

↛ Ivar the Boneless

• Being Heahmund's sibling and offering to take his place as a prisoner, a deal Ivar is more than willing to accept

• During battle you try to kill Ivar, but fail. He is so surprised and intrigued by your courage that he does not kill you. Instead, he takes you back to camp as a prisoner

• Being Oleg's sister and Ivar falling in love with you because you are the complete opposite of your brother

• Being Sigurd's twin and always fighting him because of how bad he treats Ivar

(•) Animals

(•) Fighting lesson

+ Ivar falling for a Princess would include

+ Ivar dealing with his rebellious teenage child would include

↛ Harald Finehair

• Being Bjorn's twin sister and King Harald wants to marry you, much to your brother's displeasure

↛ Halfdan the Black

(•) A Challenge

(•) "If you take one more step, I am going to punch you in the face" + "I love hearing you speak like that"

• Letter to Ronja

★ Moodboard ship

↛ Athelstan

• Ragnar noticing how much Athelstan likes you and teasing him about it

(•) Burning

↛ Aethelwulf

• Being King Ragnar's sister and when discussing and alliance with King Ecbert in Wessex, you notice that Prince Aethelwulf desires you

(•) Tell him...

↛ Alfred

• Lagertha managing to cheat the fates and giving birth to you, Kalf's child. Many years later when in Wessex with her, your brother Bjorn, Ubbe and Torvi, you find yourself falling for King Alfred

• Letter to Sophie

• Letter to Sophie II

★ Vikings/Medieval Scenario Moodboard

↛ Floki

★ Moodboard ship

↛Kalf

• Being Lagertha's daughter and being in love with Kalf

↛ Rollo

• Being Rollo's daughter nd travelling alone to Paris to see him, to be able to look him in the eye and talk after so long

↛ Ragnarsons

+ Being Ragnar's daughter, how would be your relationship with the boys

• Being Lagertha and King Ecbert's child and falling for one of Aslaug's sons

• All of Ragnar's sons being in love with the same young shield maiden who fights alongside Lagertha

+ The reactions of your brothers to you choosing to fight against them

+ The reactions of your brothers to you dying in battle headcanons

↛ All characters

∞ Their reaction to be in an arranged marriage with a Christian I + II

∞ Their reaction to be in an arranged marriage with a Viking

∞ Of whom they would be the most jealous of

#masterlist #writing #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings masterlist #ragnar lothbrok imagine #lagertha imagine #ubbe imagine #hvitserk imagine #sigurd imagine #ivar imagine #harald finehair imagine #halfdan the black imagine #aethelwulf imagine #athelstan imagine #alfred imagine

341 notes · View notes

castielsangelsx · 4 years

Text

Dance With Me (Ivar x Reader)

A.N.: Hey, guys! In the meantime of writing part three to Lion and the Lamb, I will be writing a bunch of Ragnarsons fics. Look out! This one shot is only one out of three in the works... (btw I was listening to a lot of fifty shades of grey songs whilst writing this one)

Summary: Music is loud in the hall, people are dancing yet Ivar is by himself. Not for long though, not when his wife has other ideas.

Characters: Ivar x Reader, Ubbe and Torvi

Warnings?: this is lowkey smut, but without any sex. (once you read it, you’ll get what I mean...)

Word Count: 617

--------------

The room was bustling, the sound of drums, small horns and even the cheers of men joining in song. However, Ivar sat in his chair watching out into the crowd. Ivar sat by his wife. The feeling of dread welling up in his stomach. He would do anything to have the people leave and the music to cease, but he dare not say a word or show his anger. He knew his wife was happy to be here and he dare not interfere.

He wished he could take your hand and lead you to the centre and have his hands wrapped around you watching you move. Yet, there he sat knowing this was just another misfortune of his legs and that he must accept the disappointment.

You, however, had other ideas. "I'll be back my love," you say. Ivar watches as you get up, he says nothing before sipping at his horn of ale.

Pushing past dancing people you make it to the room you an Ivar share. The far corridor at the end of the hall, which stood your chamber. Entering the room, the warmth of the fireplace and the fur rugs greeted you. Grabbing a wooden chair, you pushed it towards the centre of the room. The back of the chair facing the fire. Stopping in your tracks, you listened to the music from the hall. Nodding to yourself at the volume that was heard in the room, you rush back to Ivar to fetch him.

Ivar's face lights up as he sees you coming towards him, with the biggest smile on your face. Frowning in confusion at your smile he grasps your hand. "Where have you been?" Your grin grows even wider at his words. Leaning down to his ear, you whisper, "I have a surprise for you husband."

Grabbing his hand for the support, you heave him up to stand. Using his crutch and the help of your arm, you guide him past the crowd. Smiling to Torvi's dancing frame whose arms were wrapped around Ubbe's.

Eventually finding your way to your shared chambers, his face contorts in confusion as you seat him in the chair. Making sure the door is shut you come to get on your knees in between Ivar's legs. "What are you doing Y/n?"

"Shh, just relax." In sync with the music, you move your hips side to side in a seductive manner and run your hands down his thighs to his feet. He rests his back onto the chair back and watches you closely. Before you could do anything, Ivar rushes forward, his body is no longer seated on the chair but on top of your own on the floor. His arms pinned to the side of your head.

You have other ideas, pushing him off of your body you straddle his waist. Your movements were almost in line with the music. A battle of dominance between the two of you.

"What game are you playing?" He says, all you do is smirk and bite your lip. Twisting your hips against his groin. Egging him on. He growls and grunts before turning you over, his hand grasping your throat.

"You take me away from the feast, what are you playing at?" You smile and blush under his body.

"I want to show you how it feels to dance with your wife," you say smugly. Ivar smirks and brings his lips close to your own. His breath fanning your face. Warmth spreads in his stomach at your gesture, he knew how much you would make sure he felt accepted and regular in his circumstances. So he tightens his grip on your throat, and you gasp,

"then lets dance, wife."

#Ivar Bjørnson #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar imagine #ivar x reader #modern ivar #ivar the god #ivar smut #ivar angst #vikings imagine #vikings x reader imagines #vikings #ivar

244 notes · View notes

shestrying2write · 4 years

Text

A Proposal pt 1

Pairing: Ivar x reader (eventually)

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,687

Author’s notes: I don’t have a following, yet I decided to make this a multific. Mostly because I was somehow at 4k words and didn’t want to do that to anyone reading this.

Summary: Ivar and reader share a moment, but are separated by miscommunication

Masterlist

Pt 2 // Pt 3

“I’m sorry Queen Aslaug, but I simply cannot marry your son” were the words that Ivar heard as he crawled to find his closest friend, his only friend really. He felt his heart quicken as he realized the words came from her mouth.

“Y/N, it would be an honor to marry my son. He is a prince, a son of Ragnar, the future King of Kattegat and you would refuse?” To marry her son? Was his mother trying to marry her off to him?

“I mean no offense to my queen. Your son and I— we’re great friends, but that is all.” Ivar could feel the heat shoot through his body. Anger. That’s all he felt. Friends of course that’s all she felt toward him. He was such an idiot for thinking they could ever be more. How could she ever want to be with a cripple when she had Ubbe and Hvitserk pining for her.

“Think of all the future rulers you would make. Powerful, smart, beautiful. You are a match made by the Gods” Aslaug continued, pleading but annoyed. Y/N had always been close to the brothers and in turn Aslaug had treated her like the daughter she was never able to have. Aslaug loved her and Y/N loved her in turn, but this, this was asking for too much. Y/N scoffed “Children? Queen Aslaug please, do not ask this of me” Ivar couldn’t stand to hear anymore. He rushed off, angry, no, worse, he was hurt. A hurt Ivar was far more dangerous and terrifying than an angry one.

His brothers were at the training grounds when he arrived. Sigurd was the first to look up and see Ivar crawling toward them. “What is wrong brother? Did Y/N finally tell you to leave her alone?” He called out. Ivar was in no mood for his games. Ubbe and Hvitserk look in Ivar's direction, ready for the battle that was coming, but Ivar said nothing. Instead he began sharpening his ax, jaw clenched and his grip so hard on the weapon it was a wonder that it didn’t just snap in two. Sigurd of course would not leave it alone “That is what happened isn’t it? She finally told you that she’s only with you out of pity. That she wants a real man, a man who can please her.'' Ubbe gave his brother a stern look to stop, but Sigurd ignored him, as always.

In the blink of an eye, there was an ax in the tree beside Sigurd. It had missed him by a hair and quickly stopped Sigurds laughter and mock. “Next time, I won’t miss” Ivar hissed as he climbed off the stump he was sat upon. He began crawling back to the cabin the brothers often found themselves in when he heard her voice. The voice That always calmed him and made him smile, the voice that now did nothing but make him angry and hurt him. She called his name and he ignored her. That never happened. When he didn’t immediately turn around with a smile she got worried. She shouted a bit louder, maybe he hadn’t heard, but Ivar turned slightly to look at her and he kept going in the opposite direction. As she reached the other brothers they all turned to look at her. Hvitserk was the first to speak

“Y/N. Looking good enough to eat. As always” this made Y/N blush and smile. Hvitserk, always the charmer, always telling her he wanted to eat her. Ivar turned to glance once more at her to see if she would follow him. Some part of him hoped she would, that what he had heard was a misunderstanding and that she indeed did love him. What he saw however only fueled his anger. She had stopped to speak to his brothers, worse than that she was blushing and laughing at something they said. His anger was now red hot fury.

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

It had been two days since Y/N had spoken to Ivar, or rather, since Ivar had spoken to her. Everytime she went near him he found an excuse to leave. Sometimes he didn’t even give her a chance to get close enough to ask what was wrong. “Did I do something?” She thought out loud as Ubbe sat beside her. Horn of ale in his hand, he looked over at her with furrowed brows.

“What?” He was obviously confused as to what she was talking about.

“To Ivar” she elaborated. “He refuses to talk to me or even be close to me,” her voice was soft and hurt and she looked broken. She loved Ivar. She loved him with all her heart. It had started as friendship, sure. She would play with him when they were kids, but as they got older, it became more. She saw his strength and his endurance. She saw how smart he was and how charming he could be when he wanted to be. She knew he could be insecure about his legs, but she always made sure to tell him she didn’t care and he shouldn’t either. He was her rock and she was his.

Three nights ago, they had even shared a kiss. It had felt like she had entered Valhalla. His lips were rough and his hands were calloused but his touch still felt gentle and his lips fit perfectly with hers. She thought his hesitation was simple nerves, but she was wrong. He must have realized he didn’t love her then. She had after all been the one to kiss him. Perhaps he didn’t like that she took control, or worse, she repulsed him.

As the thoughts swirled in her mind she felt a warm hand move some of her hair behind her ear and she felt Ubbe’s warm breath near her face as he leaned in to whisper to her, “You are far too beautiful to look so worried.” Y/N blushed and smiled softly.

“You are too kind my prince” she mumbled back as she looked at him with her red cheeks. He chuckled as his thumb slowly caressed her jawline, wanting badly to lean in and press his lips to hers. They were however interrupted by a thrall accidentally spilling ale over Y/N as she meant to fill Ubbe’s horn. Y/N shot up with a gasp and turned to assure the thrall that it was okay, when she saw that the thrall was Margrethe, with a not so sorry smirk on her face. “My apologies Lady Y/N” she murmured as Ubbe glared over at her. It was no secret to anyone that Ubbe had kept his bed warm with Margarethe. Y/N never meant to intrude on who Margarethe thought was hers, she too was in love with a Ragnarson, and it wasn’t Ubbe.

As she opened her mouth to excuse herself she heard loud laughter coming from the other side of the great hall. She would recognize that laughter anywhere, it was Ivar. She stared at him as he dragged himself to an empty seat, unable to look away. They held each other’s gaze for what felt like a long time. There were so many things Y/N wanted to say. She wanted to run over to Ivar and embrace him, she wanted to apologize for whatever it is she had done. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to love her back, that she would be content with having him as a friend as long as it meant he stayed in her life. Ivar motioned for Margarethe to come and fill his horn, never once breaking eye contact with Y/N. As the thrall walked over, Ivar grabbed her hand tenderly and laid a kiss upon her knuckles, eyes never once glancing in the way of the thrall.

Y/N slightly tilted her head to the side in confusion as her expression slowly scrunched up into hurt. She was the first to break eye contact as she saw Ivar pull down the thrall beside him and lay a kiss upon her lips. How her heart ached, it should have been her kissing Ivar, not Margarethe. Were Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd not enough? She had to take Ivar as well? Y/N’s sight began to grow blurry as she realized tears were forming in her eyes. She smiled down at Ubbe and excused herself. She wouldn’t let Ivar win. She held her head high as she walked out of the great hall and to her small home. Before she had reached her home, the tears spilled down her cheeks, and she tried her hardest to contain her sobs.

Ivar had used her, his promise of friendship, intimacy and closeness had been lies. She had let herself believe that Ivar had loved her. She had been so willing to give herself fully to him. If her father hadn’t come home early, she would have let Ivar take her innocence from her. Instead he took her heart and he crushed it.

Y/N did her best to avoid Ivar after that night. It had been too hard to see him with his hand around Margarethe’s. She had lost her best friend and she never felt more alone.

The news had spread quickly of Ivar laying with the thrall. Y/N had to forget about him. She knew she did, and there was only one way she would be able to get over him. She would accept Queen Aslaug’s proposal.

Y/N had begun to grow closer to Ivar’s brothers as she no longer had Ivar to hog all her time. Sigurd was the happiest to have more time with her. It didn’t take long for him to begin feeding her poisonous words of her sweet Ivar.

They were laying by the water at night. Staring at the stars, a fur laid over their legs. Sigurd turned his head to stare at her and his heart fluttered at her smile. “I can’t believe Ivar would use someone as beautiful as you” he caught her attention then.

“Use?” She whispered, scared to hear the rest of his statement. Y/N was still hurt, Sigurd knew this. She would believe anything he told her right now, and he planned to take full advantage of that.

He turned on his side and rested on his forearm as he hovered over her, moving hair from her face, gently stroking her cheeks with his thumb. Before she could protest, he continued, “He knew of your feelings for him. He bet us Margarethe’s cunt that he could get you to be his, easily.” Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. It had all been a lie. Their friendship, the soft words he whispered in her ear, his warm lips on hers, it had all been a lie. “He’s a bastard for playing with your emotions like that” Sigurd continued as he leaned in “I would never harm such a beauty in that way” he lips were ghosting over hers and she couldn’t think. He pressed his lips to hers and she didn’t fight him off. She couldn’t. She didn’t even feel like she was in her own body anymore. The one man, aside from her father, that had meant the world to her had used her.

One thing was certain, she no longer missed Ivar, she hated him now.

~~~~~~~~~

Days had passed since that night in the clearing and neither her nor Sigurd spoke of their kiss or of the words spoken between them. Sigurd however, was sure to be extra close and sweet toward Y/N whenever Ivar was nearby. She hadn’t noticed. All she could see were Ivar’s fingers playing with Margarethe’s hair, his lips on her knuckles. She also hadn’t noticed how Ivar’s brows furrowed whenever any of his brothers were near you or whenever one of them would compliment you. She hadn’t noticed his longing gaze as she walked by him or as she danced with men during celebrations and feasts.

She couldn’t however ignore him as he threw his cup across the room when Queen Aslaug had given the wonderful announcement that her beloved Y/N had accepted to marry her son, Ubbe. Margarethe looked just as angry sitting beside Ivar. Ubbe slipped his arm around Y/N’a waist and leaned in to whisper something, her cheeks blushed and she let out a soft giggle. Her eyes met Ivar’s for a second before he quickly threw himself on the floor and dragged his body out of the hall. Aslaug went after her son, confused as to the cause of his anger. Surely he should be happy for his brother, and for his friend. Sigurd’s face was pale. After all he had done to drive her away from Ivar, he hadn’t realized he had been pushing her into the arms of his older brother.

Hvitserk came over and congratulated them. He left a playful kiss on her hand as he bowed before her and gave her a small wink. “Alright brother” Ubbe mumbled “Enough affections to my soon to be bride”

Y/N let out a giggle and cupped Hvitserk cheek. “Careful Hvitserk, Ubbe might find out of our affair” she joked as she listened to the chuckles of her soon to be husband and her soon to be brother.

“Wouldn’t be the first time they share a woman” Sigurd slurred angrily, the drinks having taken over his better reasoning. She looked over at Sigurd and then at Margarethe who’s eyes were full of angry tears. Ubbe’s hand tightened around Y/N’s waist “ignore him” he whispered to you. His lips left a small kiss on her jaw as he moved away.

The rest of the night involved the couple getting congratulated and Ubbe’s lips constantly peppering kisses on her neck and cheek. She would playfully hit his chest and tell him to stop, hoping that he would actually stop. Her heart still ached for Ivar, but it was clear Ivar wanted nothing to do with her. After the second time Ubbe’s hand attempted to go beneath her skirts to run circles on her thigh she leaned into his ear and excused herself. She told him all the excitement had tired her out and placed the softest of kisses on his cheek as she got up. He nodded in her direction and kept a hold of her hand until her fingers were too far for him to reach.

Y/N truly was tired. But mostly she wanted to cry in the peace and emptiness of her own room. She missed Ivar and she hated it. She hated how whenever she heard something drag, she hoped it was Ivar coming to tell her it was all a misunderstanding and that he actually did love her. Nearly two months had passed since their kiss and he never once tried to explain to her what happened. He used you, you idiot. Ivar doesn’t love anyone but himself she kept repeating to herself every time she thought of him.

She finally got to her home and walked to her room. She didn’t bother turning on a candle, she wanted to undress, wrap herself in her furs and cry herself to sleep like she had for the past two months. Tears were already coming down her cheeks as she began to unclasp her necklace. A golden chain with the smallest Mjolnir pendant. Ivar had given it to her, for protection, he had said. It wasn’t unlike Ivar to buy her things, even when she told him not to. He always spoiled her: jewelry, food, dresses, friendship. She held the pendant in her hand and saw tear drops fall on it. She clasped it tightly in her fist and let out a frustrated yell as she threw it across the room. Before she could do anything else she heard him. His deep voice, soft and coming from her bed “I guess Ubbe will protect you now. You won’t need the necklace”

Y/N turned frightened toward her bed, pulling up her dress. “Ivar?”

407 notes · View notes

imaginesmai · 11 months

Text

Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson (3)

I wanna say I’m sorry in advance and that next chapter will be up tomorrow, so pls don’t attack me Other parts: Once Upon A Fairy Tale Masterlist

Plot: Aslaug tries to push you closer to Ubbe, leaving you in a vulnerable situation. When faced with a group of soldiers, they don't hesitate to make their opinion about you crystal clear.

Warnings: men being rough with reader, unwanted sexual attention, harassment

You woke up alone in the room, but there was evidence of another’s person presence not too long ago. There were robes on the ground, and a pair of man’s undergarments hanging from the bottom corner of the bed. Besides, it smelt like Ubbe.

When last night you told him to sleep on the ground, you half expected him to drag your out of bed by your foot, but you were too tired to care. Yet, as minutes passed by, you only heard him change clothes and pile covers on the ground. You had been almost lulled back to sleep when he had taken the pillow from under your head.

It could only go so well.

That morning, you changed clothes quickly, not wanting to find any unexpected visitors, and let the room to be made by a servant. It was sunny and warm enough to leave your coat inside, and to choose a light dress that would let the sun bathe your skin. Following a tradition you had created many years ago, you took the hall that led to the gardens and stared at the colorful flowers.

Spending a whole summer in a foreign country was incredible boring for a kid, and when you didn’t succeed in making friends, you had to look for other sources of entertainment. Ubbe and his brothers didn’t let you participate in their games; probably, because you won each one of them without playing fool. The only kid who made an effort to befriend you was Sigurd, but his interests didn’t align with you.

There weren’t many pleasant memories in the castle, but the gardens told a different story. Hvitserk was allergic to many of the flowers that grew inside, so the Lothbrok’s brothers didn’t go there often. It was silent and peaceful, and apart from an occasional interruption, you found yourself enjoying the calm. On the other side of the garden, you could hear the castle coming alive, probably from the courtyard.

Back home, you didn’t have flowers, not as pretty as in that castle. Watering them and watching them grow was your main activity during those months.

“Those are primroses” a woman’s voice said behind you, while you knelt in front of yellow flowers. “Had them brough from the woods outside the castle. And they’ve grown just fine”

“I can see that, my queen” you answered to Aslaug, not moving from your position. “They’re beautiful”

“Indeed” she agreed. “They’ve grown just fine”

Her feet moved forward and soon you were covered by her shadow. Looking up, you met her icy eyes and cold smile.

If you had to define Ubbe’s mother with a word, it would be distant. While her son was all feelings and impulses, she was always calm and passive. You had long ago discarded the idea of an indifferent queen – everything that happened in that castle, she knew where, when and why. Anyone could be fooled by her attitude, but you knew that every word and gesture was intentional and had a purpose.

Slowly, you rose up and brushed the dirt from your dress, although there was none.

“Do your new chambers meet your needs, my dear?”

“They do. Although I’m afraid I don’t think prince Ubbe share the feeling”

“He will, eventually. Give him time” she tilted her head in what pretended to be an innocent way, but that made her look like a snake staring at her prey. “Any man can get used to it”

You smiled without your teeth, because you had no doubt there were many others empty rooms in the castle. Only that she didn’t want you to be anywhere else, and you could think of a few reasons why.

Last year, you heard some of the servants talk about Ubbe, in a way you had never heard or thought about. You had had your own adventures at home, with a vendor from the market and with the stables’ boy in your castle. But those words got stuck in your brain, and for a few days, it was the only thing you thought about.

“It’s just, he’s gotten so big. And tall. And that face… He looks just like his father but more handsome, and he isn’t married yet. I would kill to feel what he hides between those elegant clothes” a servant laughed, as if it was a secret.

“I know. I can’t wait until he comes back. Heard he has let some girls into his room. I will gladly volunteer next time”

Everyone who had eyes could see Ubbe’s resemblance to his father, a strong, ferocious and handsome king. While you weren’t very fond of him, you had eyes, and could see too. Aslaug wasn’t any different.

She was getting impatient, and every year that went by, was another chance of a bastard appearing in the hands on a common girl and asking for rights.

“People will talk, but you don’t have to worry, Y/N” Aslaug assured. With a look, she started walking and you followed her, with your hands laced and your eyes on the ground. “Maybe it’s not common to share chambers before the weeding. You’ve been engaged long enough to skip that rule, don’t you think so?”

“I... don’t know, my queen. I can’t say what others might think of the situation, only that neither prince Ubbe nor I like it very much” you tried.

“You’ll get used to it too, don’t worry. After all, what better place to stay than in your husband’s bed? Isn’t that where a good wife belongs?”

You knew better than to talk back, so you kept quiet. The flowers you intended to take care of moved past you as you walked by her side, servants and soldiers bowing. Every year, she took upon herself to remind you that time was running out. Every year, she ambushed you sooner or later and tested the waters.

Sharing a room was nothing but accidental.

She couldn’t care less about his son’s reputation or about your dignity. The only thing she cared about was other’s opinion, and what they might say. Because they would talk, about you and Ubbe, and if someone was bold enough to start the rumor of you two bedding, the wedding she wanted would come up way sooner.

Birds chirped around you as you listened to her list the good qualities of a wife. You might not have had a mother, but your father had taught you enough and assured you other people would when he couldn’t. You knew what was expected from you, how you had to behave in and out the bedroom. Hating your fate didn’t make you ignorant, so you kept your head down and listened.

After a long and torturous walk through the gardens, you found the exit to the courtyard, where the king’s sons were training. There were soldiers and majors fighting against each other, laughing and tossing friendly punches.

From the language they were using and the lack of women, you guessed that was a place you weren’t supposed to be. There were shirtless men sweating and showing off his muscles, in a relaxed atmosphere that wouldn’t suggest the princes were between them.

Sigurd and Hvitserk were fighting against each other, with training swords and wooden shields. The loud noises didn’t alert anyone from the presence of the two visitors, and they kept going. Your eyes stopped when you found Ubbe, not too far away in a hand combat with a man twice his size.

He was shirtless too, new tattoos and scars decorating his body. The previous day, you hadn’t really noticed the change from the boy to a man, but now you did. He moved effortlessly around his opponent, dodging hits and throwing punches.

As you stared at the muscles of his back tense and move, you felt enchanted. You weren’t sure you blinked until the prince finally got a hold of the man’s forearm and threw him to the ground. When Ubbe rose victorious and showed his brothers a teethed smile, you forced yourself to look away, wondering how could a face change so much in a year.

Only then, you noticed Aslaug looking at you, with a satisfied smirk on her lips.

“Thought they would have finished by now. How silly of me” she excused herself. Instead of turning around, she gathered her skirts and stepped down the first stair. “Come on, dear, let’s say hi. It would be rude not to do so”

“My queen, I’d rather – “

“Now”

She didn’t wait for you, just kept walking down, knowing you would follow. Queen Aslaug had earned herself the respect and fear from the castle, day by day, and as soon as the soldiers noticed, one by one fell to their knee.

They didn’t look at you, didn’t rise up when you passed them or acknowledge their training partners. In a wave motion, they bowed to their queen and pressed a fist to their sweaty chest. You moved behind Aslaug in silence, staring at their faces and bodies. Maybe it was all part of her plan, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it.

When you turned thirteen and your father caught you talking with the son of the cooker, he decided you would continue your training and outside activities far from any men. Excluding blurry memories of soldiers fighting with your father when you were younger, you had never seen so many men at their knees.

Thoughts that surely couldn’t belong to you crossed your mind, and you looked forward, ashamed and with your cheeks red.

A few feet away from you, Ubbe’s blue eyes met yours, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked between the kneeling soldiers and your cheeks, twisting his mouth.

“Hvitserk, Sigurd” Aslaug greeted them, taking a good look at Ubbe’s face. “Ubbe”

“Mother” the younger one replied, staring at the both of you with a small smile. “Princess Y/N, lovely to see you again”

“What are you doing here?”

Ubbe’s voice was rough, no trace of the bright smile you had seen moments ago. Soldiers were starting to rise, still in silence, and everyone stared while Ubbe and his mother stared at each other. They were fighting some type of mental battle no one else was aware of.

Awkwardly, you waited by her side until she finally clapped her hands and looked at the crowd, ignoring her son’s words.

“Don’t stop on our account, please. Continue your work. Let princess Y/N see how strong and brave her soldiers are going to be soon” she extended her arms towards them, although no one moved. “Keep going”

Slowly, the sound of swords and shields came back, and Aslaug turned back to her sons.

You could feel the stares of every man in the courtyard in the back of your neck, and it occurred to you, you weren’t wearing appropriate clothes. As an unmarried woman, you were supposed to be elegant, discreet, hidden. Most of the dresses you had brough were long sleeved and with high necks, covering every inch of your body. That’s how everyone in Mercia had seen you until that moment.

But it was hot and you were supposed to be in the gardens, so you had chosen a pale, blue dress with a low neckline that showed your shoulders, and sleeves that only covered until your elbow. And you hadn’t touched your hair, leaving it hanging from your shoulders.

Now aware of the situation, you crossed your arms over your chest and looked at Aslaug, who seemed awfully pleased with herself.

You didn’t think for a moment she actually forgot about the training.

“What are you doing here?” Ubbe asked again, staring at her mother. “It’s training day. You know it. And you shouldn’t be here, neither should she”

Disgust dripped from the last word, and he didn’t even meet your eyes.

“But she’s your future wife, you should share every part of your routine with her” she fired back, not minding Hvitserk’s stifled snort. “I didn’t see you this morning at breakfast, were you in a hurry?”

“I was. I have been training all day. Here. Where you shouldn’t – “

“Don’t tell me where I can or can’t be, Ubbe. Enough”

“Mother, we were about to end” Sigurd stepped forward. “Why don’t you wait for us in the castle?”

“I have business to attend” she smiled again, her snake eyes looking between Ubbe and you. “But you should escort princess Y/N. I think she was trying to take care of some flowers”

Without saying another word, Aslaug walked the other way. Soldiers moved so that she could pass, and when she did, they went back to their previous fight. She walked with a determination she hadn’t had in the gardens, and even if you had had time, you wouldn’t had been able to follow her. Not looking once over her shoulder, she disappeared.

And then, you were alone with the three princes in a yard full of loud soldiers who resumed their previous behavior.

All the respect they showed earlier, the quietness that followed your path, was because of Aslaug. You were just the foreign princess of a smaller kingdom, with no authority or importance in their training practice. You guessed that they would have had more consideration for any other woman from Mercia, but your value was of a servant.

A person without opinion or saying, that didn’t need to be taken into account.

When a soldier passed by your side and spit on the ground, only inches away from your shoe, you decided it was enough.

“If you’ll excuse me” you said, already starting your way towards the stairs. It wouldn’t be easy and you would probably have to shove some soldiers, but there wasn’t any other solution.

“Where are you going?” Ubbe asked, coming forward to.

“To my chambers? To yours. Anywhere I don’t have to see this”

“You can come to mine”

You found yourself face to chest to a man with blonde, short hair, and a missing eye. Only his shoulders were the length of your whole arm. His sweaty face stared down at with you side smile, earning the laughs of some of his partners.

It wasn’t anything new to you.

Maybe, during the first three years, people were intimidated by a foreign country visiting his lands. Maybe, they were actually happy at the thought of his prince getting married soon. But it all vanished quickly and you had endured your fair share of comments and observations from Mercia’s people. And you weren’t amused anymore.

Ubbe was, who stopped behind you.

Those people were not willing to risk his head, so they always talked when no one but you could hear it. The servants whispered not so low when they prepared your bath, the nobles sat close to you and commented the empty seat by your sides, and the soldiers only talked when the halls were empty.

“Get out of my way” you scoffed, easily dodging his body and moving forward.

There was a faint commotion behind you and soon Ubbe was back in his place, his breath almost hitting the back of your neck. The fact that his very naked chest was a touch away was making you nervous, and you tried to walk faster.

Soon, you lost the small clearing the princes were training in and were fully into the courtyard, surrounded by bodies.

Not even ten steps into the crowd, Ubbe grabbed your elbow.

“Are you insane? Are you actually insane?” he all but screamed to you. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Why do you ask so many questions? The only thing wrong here is your mother, who should know by now better”

“You should too! What was that back there?”

“Stop asking questions!”

You pushed him away and turned around, wiling your feet to walk faster. Not because you were actually annoyed by his questions, but because having him so close, made you stutter. The feeling of his hot chest against your fingers when you pushed him away, tempted you to keep your hands there.

Thankfully, you were smaller than him, and could outrun him while he tried to chase you.

Some soldiers thought it would be funny to try and stop you, going so far as stepping into your skirts and grabbing your shoulder and hair. They laughed and made comments that you shouldn’t had to hear.

To them, it was chasing the rabbit that was escaping from his prince. To you, it wasn’t so fun.

One of the soldiers stepped on your skirt and the cloth tore, achieving a bunch of hurrahs from the rest of his friends. Stopping to see how bad the damage was, you saw Ubbe pushing through the soldiers farther than before, something murderous on his face. He looked at your dress and moved faster, going as far as throwing a man into his partner.

You turned around to keep moving, now your eyes warm with tears. One thing was the playful banter of children, or even the not-so-playful pranks with Ubbe. But it wasn’t a joke anymore, you felt the men’s intention clear and loud. Humiliation and frustration boiled up in your body until you felt your chest tightening up. You willed yourself to save the tears for later, when you would be finally alone. So you tried to move.

Before you could do so, someone grabbed your hair and pulled harder than before, making your yelp in pain. You were thrown back, and by mere luck, you hit a man’s chest instead of the ground.

Suddenly, a pair of rough hands were on you, while your captor’s arms held you still.

“Come on, don’t be shy! Show us what more you have there!” someone roared, attempting to see through the slip of your dress. He managed to lift one side and grip your left calf.

“I’ll take the other side!”

He didn’t, because when the first man tried to move higher, still holding your left leg against him, was met with your foot on his face. The kick launched him back and made you stumble into other arms. Again, they tried to move lift your dress, now from behind. No matter how much you moved or kicked, your voice stuck in your throat.

By that time, there were tears running down your cheeks, and it was clear it wasn’t just a game between the soldiers. Some of them had stepped aside, looking almost troubled. But no one said anything.

It wasn’t like fighting with the princes, or falling into a prank. It felt like an assault to your dignity, even if they tried to make it look like a joke.

The first man quickly recovered and looked at you while covering his mouth. In his other hand, there was a piece of tooth that you had broken.

There was no longer humor on his eyes, not even the lustful glare he was trying to hide before. When he charged towards you, some of his friends tried to stop him, but it wasn’t enough. He moved with his whole-body force towards you, and since other soldiers were still holding you, you couldn’t do anything but close your eyes and try to cower away.

Between the shouts and laughs, you distinguished a familiar voice, and then heard a body falling to the ground.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Taglist:

@66vikings

59 notes · View notes

xbellaxcarolinax · 4 years

Text

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 16- Free

Pairing: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 3381

Warnings: None.

AN: Thanks for the love guys, I appreciate it sooo much 😊 For those who have read this on Wattpad, I have edited the hell out of this story, so some parts have changed. Anyway, hope ya’ll enjoy.

15- York

...

One thing Ivar loved to do was sing.

They were usually the old lullabies his mother would sing to him as a child on nights when the pain was impossible to ignore. It remind him of his father. It was his peace of mind.

"Just wait, though wide he may roam, always a hero comes home,"

Ivar's hand hovered over the chess board as he contemplated his next move. His voice was almost a whisper, the melody ghosting over his pink lips, haunting yet beautiful.

"He goes where no one has gone, but always a hero comes home."

He quickly moves his piece forward, snatching his opponent's piece from the board and into the small horde of his collection. His opponent, the bishop, was as surprised as Artemis, his eyebrows shooting up at Ivar's quick attack. Ivar continues to hum the rest of the tune while waiting for the bishop to make his move. Apparently he learned the game from Prince Alfred sometime ago.

"What do you think of the bishop?" He suddenly asks her, his blue eyes following the bishop's scarred hand.

"I'm more interested in the game, I think."

Bishop Heahmund did not seem like a pleasant man. He often shot her accusatory glares after noticing the cross about her neck. He didn't resemble a man of the clergy with his leather clothes and cropped hair, and even less so with a sword in his hand. He didn't speak often, but when he did, it was rough and strained, as if he'd been screaming for an entire lifetime.

"He fascinates me. He is quite an impressive fighter." Ivar comments, turning his body to look at her from across the room, "His sword, I'd like you to examine it. It is unlike anything I've seen."

"As you wish, Prince."

The bishop mutters something to Ivar in that Saxon language. It was so dissimilar to the other languages of the Mediterranean, so foreign and strange. The way his mouth would move and how his tongue shifted to make certain sounds was beyond her, but Ivar grasped it with ease.

The bishop gazes at her with scrutiny in his eyes before looking back at Ivar's amused ones.

"He asks of your origins. He can clearly see you're not of the north."

"And I can clearly see he is no bishop." Ivar snorts at her comment, beckoning her closer. She was much too far for his liking. Artemis was hesitant in taking the seat that Ivar offered beside him, but she complies. She kept her eyes trained on the pieces on the chess board, very elaborately decorated.

Ivar speaks once again in the Saxon tongue, repeating her words and watching as the bishop rolled his eyes.

"I am Greek." She tells the man, waiting to see if he understood her. She didn't know whether he spoke her language or not, but most priests and clergymen did. He must have, because he hesitated, completely caught off guard.

"Do you understand me?"

"Minimal." The bishop answers brokenly. Perhaps he really was a bishop. "You are far from home." He continues.

"I have his brother to thank for that." She discreetly motions toward Ivar, who watches their conversation in fascination.

"Your people do not follow the Holy Father in Rome." Bishop Heahmund grunts out in his terrible Greek, finally losing his king piece to Ivar. Artemis rolls her eyes.

"Right. It has been a pleasure." She stands, pushing the chair back with an unpleasant screech before marching off to where she previously stood.

"Why has he upset you? I thought you'd both get on well," Ivar waved his hand about to explain himself further, the king piece in his tight grip, "He even speaks your language."

"I am not Christian enough for him-" Ivar snorts at this, "The people of the east do not follow the pope of Rome."

"What? What is a pope?"

"A man who has power over all Christian men of the west, even the kings." Artemis tries to explain the petty rivalies of the church, making herself busy by sorting out all of Ivar's daggers and wiping them down with a dampened cloth.

"I do not understand," Ivar frowned, helping the bishop set up the board again for a new match, "Are you Christian's not all the same?"

"It is much more complicated than that," She says, "There are different rules and traditions." If she were facing him, she would have seen him roll his eyes.

"East, west, you are all the same to me." He says after moment, his eyes following Heahmund's first move.

There was a long silence that followed, and only the clinking of the chess pieces against the porcelain board filled the chamber. Artemis settled comfortably in her thoughts as she polished Ivar's daggers. It was a useless task, really, as they would probably be impaled into an unlucky brute soon.

"Are you his whore?" Heahmund's scratchy voice burned the insides of her ears.

She really didn't like him.

"Of all the words to learn, you learned that one?" The bishop shrugs.

"You learn the bad ones first." Artemis scrunched her face in displeasure, turning to look at him from over her shoulder.

"I am his blacksmith, bishop." Ivar looks between the two in confusion.

"It seems I will have to learn this language as well," Ivar grunts, "Did he offend you?"

"I believe you should ask him that."

Once again the odd sounds of the Saxon language filled the room unpleasantly until Ivar snorts again, a large smile breaking across his face.

"The man has humor." Ivar let's out the laugh he'd been holding in when he sees her obvious distaste for the bishop.

"I find no joy in his humor." Ivar sighs, but the annoying smile still plays on his lips.

"Then I shall put you at ease. You may go." She was glad for it, storing away his daggers in a leather pouch and setting them aside before turning and giving Ivar a respected bow. She didn't miss the bishop's glare, and she was quick to return the gesture.

"Artemis?" Ivar calls after her, "Do not try anything stupid."

What he meant to say was do not try anything stupid because I have a guard following you.

...

Ivar decided to have guards posted at every entrance way and anywhere he felt a need for them, reflecting his rising paranoia. He felt treachery at every corner and deception in every path. His anxiety escalated ever since he'd severed ties with his older brother.

When Ubbe left, he took a small fleet of boats with him back to Kattegat. He was in obvious disagreement with his youngest brother. He had no desire to venture farther into England for raiding. All he wanted was to live out their fathers dream and farm the land that was given to them by King Ecbert. Except, that land wasn't really rightfully theirs anyway.

It was sad to see such a family drift apart from each other, all because Ivar was ambitious and wanted more.

Hvitserk had hesitated, leaving with Ubbe aboard the ship until the very last moment, deciding to jump off and change his allegiance with Ivar. The oldest left quite solemnly, but it didn't deter him from what he felt was his duty. He didn't agree with Ivar nor his ideas or commands, and therefore he felt no need to remain under such leadership.

It was sad to watch Ubbe leave. He was the glue that kept the Ragnarson's together and was a good man with a heart of gold. Artemis offered him an apple before he left. It made the blonde smile.

Ivar felt betrayed.

Despite all the taunting he had done watching his brother leave, it hurt him so much more than he could express. Ubbe was his defender, the one who always looked out for him. Now he was gone.

Ivar did what he knew best, throwing things about in his fury. His anger lasted days, lashing out on anyone who dared to approach him. But the anger passed as it always did and the conquest in York continued.

He kept true to his word, having a guard monitor her whenever she was alone.

It was a trust issue at first, but then word spread that a slave woman was raped by one of his own men. In a different situation, Ivar wouldn't have batted an eye at that as it was no business of his what his men wanted to do with slaves. But then it had him thinking about his own slave. Not that the men would dare touch her for obvious reasons, but still, it was precaution.

She was safe, for the most part, but grew weary of such boring company. And she was sure this guard was bored of hers. If she wasn't followed by Ivar's guard then she was in the company of Hvitserk, who constantly joked about having to play caretaker. Artemis actually liked his company.

Spring was slowly beginning to transition into the summer heat, carrying with it the humid airs and more rain. Her hair didn't agree with the weather, the long strands expanding into disarray until she finally decided to sport them into mediocre braids.

It took Artemis some time to grow accustomed to the new city. She often explored it when she could spare the time, following the path of the river Thames's slow moving waters. She found herself admiring the English view.

But if anyone were to search for her, she could be found in York's forge. It was nothing like Ecbert's forge, but it was still impressive. The area was large and heated, made for multiple men to work at once, with a large pit for a blazing fire in the middle. She loved it.

She became aquainted with the technique of the northerners with Arvid's help, and now she strived to retain more knowledge from the Saxons, specifically the bishops sword. She had taken the sword to examine it as Ivar requested, and she understood why he was so fascinated by it.

It was forged of a stronger material, and she could already tell it was quite expensive to own. The long sword had a golden pommel, with precious stones embedded on the grip. There was something engraved into the blade, which only added to its mystery.

Heahmund was obviously once a rich man.

Artemis ran her fingers over the smoothness of the blade, working to shine it to perfection. She was reminded of her father, a master of crafting blades. She thought less of him. The less she thought of him, the less it hurt, burying it deep within herself as to not feel the emotional pain of having no family and being utterly alone.

...

Artemis had done a fantastic job staying away from Arvid.

She didn't speak to him, she didn't even glance in his direction. He'd catch her from time to time, speaking to his wife, sharing a laugh or two with her, inquiring on his health, but nothing more. He'd wondered how she managed to dance her way around him, despite them working together. He suppose he deserved it.

Arvid found a chance to speak to her, catching her sitting on the stool that Ivar sat on only days ago while enduring the painful pricking of a tattoo. Artemis hears his boots scuffing up the dirt, stopping in front of her. His handsome features were clouded with remorse.

"Do you hate me?" He asks bluntly.

"Hate is a strong word, Arvid."

"It was not my intention to-"

"I do not understand what your intentions were." She interrupts him with a sigh. Her small fingers held onto a whetstone, sharpening the bishop's sword. When Arvid steps closer for a better look at it, the guard he failed to notice made his presence known, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. They were part of Ivar's personal guard. The guard was quite a distance away, but he held a threatening stance. Arvid frowns.

"What is done, is done," Artemis continued to say, posture becoming more rigid the longer he stood there.

"Surely you have much more to say than that." Arvid insists.

"Not really."

Arvid runs a hand down his rugged face. He wanted to shout at her and elicit something from her, but he was better off steadying his tone if this guard was watching.

"Odin help me. You are infuriating."

"And you are a traitor. You do not value our friendship," She replied harshly, sheathing the sword and placing it at her feet with less care then she should have before crossing her arms. "You sold me out for your own selfish reasons, and now you want to reconcile?"

"I did not wish to see you make a mistake." His tone drops lower, and his blue eyes shone with regret. He didn't want to have a simple friendship, his passionate heart wouldn't allow it.

"That was my mkstake to make," Artemis remained with her arms crossed, but her anger slowly faded, leaving nothing but a frown in its wake, "He could have killed me, you know."

"Nonsense, he cares for you," Arvid scoffs with a roll of his eyes, "He even has that nice guard to watch over you,"

"Now is not the time for your petty jealousy," Artemis, stands grabbing the heavy sword in her hands, "I could have been home. I had a chance." A wave of emotion erupted in her like a storm out at sea, and angry tears blurred her vision. She told herself she wouldn't cry anymore, she refused to show such weakness, but her voice quivered terribly, and her skin flushed pink from the stress of tears.

She was emotionally tired.

Arvid felt terrible. His attempt at making amends was failing miserably. The last thing he wanted was to see her weep.

"Forgive me." He says dumbly to her, but he knew that wouldn't be suffice. He was pathetic, pining over a women that would always belong to Ivar. The youngest prince of Kattegat did not hide his feelings well, it was obvious. He cared for Artemis in his own way, even if he couldn't admit it.

Arvid had no right to be envious. He had a beautiful and loyal wife who cared for him as any wife should her husband, yet he felt the jealously tighten its hold on him. He should not have been so selfish.

"Artemis?" The sound of Hvitserk's voice made her quickly wipe her face free of any tears.

"Ivar is requesting your presence." His brows rose in silent questioning, but he says nothing, only watching with eyes of suspicion as she casts Arvid one last look before walking over to Hvitserk.

"Prince Hvitserk."

"You know, I tire of such formalities." He says with a small smile, draping his arm about her shoulders as he usually did when he was being particularly friendly. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the rare sunlight that poked through her wet lashes before turning her gaze to the Ragnarson.

"Hvitserk." She corrected herself, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand.

"What did he want?" Hvitserk looks over his shoulder. At least Ivar trusted him enough for the guard to slink away when he came around.

"He was seeking forgiveness." She mutters, clutching the sword tight.

"I should be seeking yours as well." He laughs, ruffling her already messy curls over the area where her wound should've healed by now. He did it to ease her discomfort, but only succeeded in making her feel like a child. She swats his hand away, offering him a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Can you forgive me?"

"I suppose," She begins, looking away from him, "What does Ivar need?"

"I am not sure, you know he refuses to disclose his plans." He was clearly annoyed about it. Hvitserk stayed behind with Ivar expecting for them to share the role of leader, but Ivar always kept his older brother out of the loop, leaving him in a foul mood.

"But he appeared to be in better spirits, so I'm sure he is up to something." He shrug, laughing when she playfully pushes him off before entering the church.

She wished she could have seen it in its glory, before it was desecrated. The walls were draped in Ivar's new sigil, a red banner with a circle of gold and black swirls. It was a sign of the future king he desired to be.

A blonde woman came skittering out into the hall, barely dressed and a large grin on her face. Artemis recognized her as Freydis, a pretty slave that roamed about the camp as a woman of pleasure. Freydis passes her, giving her a wolfish grin. She runs off in a flurry of giggles, pulling her tattered dress over her thin shoulders.

That was strange.

Artemis rounds the corner to see Ivar sitting on his throne with a blush dusting his chiseled cheekbones. He clears his throat when he sees her approach.

"Artemis."

"What can I do for you, Prince?"

"I have news." Artemis's brows knit in confusion.

"News?" He smiles, glancing at the sheathed sword in her hands.

"Yes, but first, how fair's the bishop's sword?"

"...It is impressive, made of superior steel, but surely not by any dwarfs." She jokes, which in turn makes Ivar smirk, resting his chin on his hand. He wore his metal legs, tapping a finger along the dark iron.

"You know nothing of the dwarfs, Artemis," He says with a chuckle, before straightening his posture, and suddenly he wore a thoughtful expression. He cleared his throat, bringing his hands together and lacing his fingers across his lap.

"I've decided to grant you what you most desire."

The words barely hit her, her mind slowly wrapping around the meaning. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but stops herself, not knowing what to say.

"I thought you'd be more excited," He was rather serious, staring at her with an odd intensity, "You have your freedom." His brow wrinkles as he awaited her response.

"I do not understand." She says, feeling her kneecaps shake, "Why did you not let me go with Bjorn?"

"...I did not want you to leave...under such circumstances, and without my consent," He hesitates, unable to meet her eyes, "I thought it would be the right thing to do." She had longed to hear him say such words. She lowers her head in disbelief, placing a hand to her brow as a weight lifted off her shoulders. It seemed too easy.

"No, none of that." Ivar says with a roll of his eyes. When she turns her eyes towards him he frowns, leaning forward on his throne as if to examine her features closely.

"Have you been crying?" Ivar grips his axe tightly, making movements to stand, "Has someone hurt you?" She shakes her head, biting her lip, but otherwise remains quiet.

"Are you hurt?" He urges, this time his tone was softer than she's ever heard it before. She sighs.

"Only my heart. I am homesick,"

"You are a free women now," His demeanor changes instantly, straightening his back against his makeshift throne, "You are free to navigate, but I cannot spare you any ships or men to help you, I need them all at my disposal." Artemis nods, keeping her eyes downcast.

"But," He continues, "I will offer to have you stay in my service as a blacksmith if you wish to remain loyal to me. You shall always have a roof over your head and food in your belly, if you choose to accept." She shifts on her feet, holding the bishop's sword to her chest in thought.

"You will be protected." He adds, noting the doubt in her eyes. After a few moments of silence, she nods, raking a hand through her hair. She hoped it wouldn't be a mistake.

"I accept the offer, Prince Ivar," He smiles at her, a genuine smile that could light every candle in the hall.

"Excellent choice," He says, "I shall like you to come back to Norway with me, to King Harald's lands. It is time to enact my revenge on Lagertha."

...

A Hero Comes Home- Beowulf

...

@heavenly1927 @didiintheblog @rastakami23

#ivarxofc #ivarfanfiction #ivar imagine #ivar #vikingsfanfiction #vikings fanfic #vikings ivar #vikings #ivar the boneless #alex hogh andersen

70 notes · View notes

madsmikkelsenschesthair · 4 years

Text

Blood of the Dragon ch.14

Hvitserk x Freyja/Reader aesthetic ❤️

Warnings: angst, fluff, first kiss, violence, mentions of character death

Björn and his father were not on speaking terms at all. After greeting his younger brothers, Björn and Ragnar only scowled at each other than Björn, his mother and brothers greeted the King and Queen. Björn ignored his father and focused his attention on Freyja and Freyja only. He had not seen the little princess for almost a year and he was not going to let anyone ruin it.

She had changed. She was taller, growing into her body, hair longer. Skin was cleaner and smoother than before and Freyja constantly smelled of roses. Her cheeks were slightly pink as if pink satin was trying to escape from beneath her marble-like skin. Freyja’s wardrobe had changed too. She wore the same pretty dresses the Southern ladies of Westeros wore and her hair loose but combed and free of tangles. During meals, Freyja sat the same way her stepmother did and the eating manners she had back in Kattegat were gone. Still, his old Freyja was there. From the way she smiled to the way she teased her boys. She still fought as bravely as a shieldmaiden, her purple eyes flaming and Björn swore he sometimes saw a shadow of a dragon behind her. That’s why the gift he bought her was the perfect gift. Hvitserk noticed Freyja’s changes as well. She was beautiful before but now...she was an absolute dream. Ubbe still treated her like a little sister but his younger brothers were going for another route. Maybe they indeed had a crush on her for her soul and beauty but maybe they wanted to win her heart so Freyja could marry them and become Kings. Ubbe hoped they liked her for her, for their sake.

Lagertha watched her ex-husband’s sons bond with Freyja. They were all in the garden of the Red Keep; Ivar was sharpening his ax, Ubbe and Sigurd were trying to teach Fenrir how to play fetch, and Björn and Freyja were talking. He said something to her that made her giggle, Lagertha chuckled at how small she looked next to her son. She heard the soft click-clack of heels on the stone floor followed by the clinking of armor. Lagertha could smell Cersei’s perfume before she could even approach her.

“She’s happy you’re here,” Cersei said. Hvitserk pulled a braid and Freyja squealed, the booming laughter of the eldest Ragnarsons rang in the air.

“I can see that” Lagertha glanced at Cersei and then went back to watching the little princess with her princes. “Does she like it here? Does she miss home at all?”

Cersei’s smile faded a little, thinking about the first few weeks when Freyja arrived. “She...she may have gotten into a fight with Viserys”

Lagertha turned away from the children with surprise. “What happened?” She was very interested in hearing this story. The little Princess was known back home for standing up for herself and getting into fights with boys, she wondered how she fought off a man.

“The King wanted time break her old habits such as hunting”. Lagertha never understood these Westerosis and their strange customs, men, and women could hunt, fight, raid all the same but here things were strange. “One morning, the Princess snuck off to the Kingswood by herself. Viserys followed her. You see, he was angry with us, with her. Targaryens marry cousins and nieces but this time the little Princess will marry a son of Ragnar” Hvitserk braided Freyja’s hair while Björn told a story about one of the raids in a new world, jealousy crossed the princess’s eyes. “Viserys followed her and attacked her. The princess fought back” Cersei chuckled looking more proud now, “It was not a good outcome for him and left him in a bad state afterward” Lagertha grew angry and she wanted to hunt down the Targaryen prince and cut off his hands for even touching her Freyja.

The little princess was happy her family had returned but she noticed there was someone missing. A certain priest that helped raise her and love her as if she were his own as well. Athelstan. Floki and Helga were missing too, Freyja looked for their eager faces when they arrived but they were nowhere to be found.

“Bear, where is Athelstan?” Freyja finally asked Bjorn. The boys looked at one another their eyes hiding a sad secret. Bjorn’s little brothers turned to him for answers, no one had the courage to tell her the truth. He didn’t want to break her sweet heart. “And Floki and Helga. They’re not here too, why?” Freyja began to get nervous her eyes darting from Bjorn to Ivar. From Ivar to Sigurd. From Sigurd to Ubbe. From Ubbe to Hvitserk. Finally going back to Bjorn. A heavy silence hung in the air.

Finally, Hvitserk answered, “I’ll tell her, brother” Bjorn stared at his little brother. “Are you sure?” Hvitserk nodded. “Come Freyja. Take a walk with me” He extended his arm offering her his hand and she took it, together they walked deeper into the garden leaving the rest behind. Her anxiety worsened the further they walked without talking, not even the exotic birds were chirping they seemed to sense the dreadful feeling that they were hiding. They walked until they were far away enough to hide from the guards and the other boys. It was beautiful where they were, isolated with white rose bushes and a stone bench, the bushes were high enough to hide them. Hvitserk offered her to sit, “I think you shouldn’t be on your feet for what I’m about to tell you” Freyja swallowed but she sat down.

“You can tell me now,” she said in a small voice, the dreadful feeling wasn’t going away and it seemed to worsen with the small pauses. Hvitserk sat next to her and took her hands in his.

“One morning Bjorn went to speak to Athelstan about the next raid” Freyja studied his face, her heart threatening to explode. “Bjorn noticed Athelstan’s hut was unusually quiet and there was the smell of blood coming from inside” A lump formed in Hvitserk’s throat and he tried to hide his tears because one of them had to be strong for this and he wanted to be strong for Freyja. When he was sure the tears went away, Hvitserk finally looked up, “Athelstan was found dead. Murdered and-”

“Oh no!” Freyja cried out, one hand covered her mouth and she began to sob big gulping sobs. Her sweet Athelstan slaughtered like that. Like a pig. “Who did it, Hvitty? Who killed our Athelstan?!”

It broke his heart to see Freyja like this but someone had to tell her, he made it this far. “I’m very sorry sweet Freyja but...it...it was Floki...Floki killed him.” Freyja knew Floki hated Athelstan for being a Christian but she didn’t know he would go as far as killing him. She cried even harder the ache in her chest far too unbearable. Hvitserk put his arms around her and held her close letting her cry into his chest, her tears soaking his shirt but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about his shirt only caring about Freyja’s shattered heart.

_________________________________

Freyja was warned not to tell Ragnar or anyone else outside their little circle. All she knew was Floki was in a cave, tied to the ceiling, with only Helga as his company.

She was not told how long Floki had been tied up. It hurt Freyja that Athelstan was brutally murdered but it also hurt to know the conditions of Floki and poor Helga, who did not have to be there and was suffering as much as her husband.

At dinnertime Lagertha, Bjorn, and his little brothers were invited to dine with the little princess and her family. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying their meal but Freyja, Rhaegar watched her from the head of the dining table not paying much attention to Lagertha. Freyja picked her meat and stared blankly at her glass of water. The ‘only one glass of wine’ rule was not relaxed because of her Norse family. Rules were rules, according to her septa and the little princess was ordered to obey. Hvitserk kept stealing glances at her to make sure she was okay, Sigurd kicked him and mouthed, “The King is watching. Look away”. His older brother shrugged, ‘Freyja is sad’ he mouthed back, Both brothers looked at the princess, Freyja flipped her roasted quail letting out a loud sigh but not loud enough to interrupt the conversation. Ubbe reached for another piece of bread, then stopped when he saw his little brothers gawking at Freyja. He made an irritated noise and his brothers quickly looked away. If the King or the terrible Queen were to catch them...

“Father, may I be excused?”

The grownups stopped talking, Rhaegar frowned at her untouched plate and said, “Are you alright little dove? You haven’t eaten much”

“You look rather ill, Freyja” Lagertha’s soft hand touched her temple. It amazed Freyja that after all those years of battle, her sweet Lagertha’s hands remained soft. A comforting touch. “You are a little warm”.

“You may be excused, Y/n,” her father said, “I will send Maester Pycell to your chambers to check on you”

“No!” Her stepmother said quickly, “I will send two septas but not the Maester”

Lagertha shot a suspicious glance at Viserys. The cowardly man looked away. “And you won’t be going alone.”

Bjorn followed his mother’s eyes. He did not like the prince either and after he heard of the incident, Bjorn wanted to slice off his prick for putting his hands on Freyja but his mother stopped him from doing so. “I will accompany the Princess to her chambers, Your Grace. I know she would like that instead of your guards”. The King agreed but Cersei did not bother to hide her anger something Lagertha noticed.

Once they were out of earshot Freyja finally burst into tears. Bjorn quickly wrapped his strong arms around her, “Sweet Freyja, little princess. Daughter of Thor, this storm will be over soon”

“My heart is broken” she sobbed, “Athelstan was a good Christian, he loved us all how could Floki do this to us?”

Athelstan, the same man that pampered, protected her, told her about his God’s stories and his life before Kattegat, was dead. A sweet man who envied no one and didn’t wish to hurt or kill anyone.

Bjorn kissed her head. It didn’t matter what anyone said. A father was a man that raised and loved a child and Freyja was his child. It hurt to see her cry. “Athelstan is with his God now. He always wanted to go to Heaven. Soon his God and our God will put their differences aside and when we go to Valhalla Athelstan shall drink with us and will tell him about our battles.” It was little comfort but Freyja felt guilty for the death of Athelstan, if she had not left Kattegat then he would still be alive. She felt even worse knowing she couldn’t tell Ragnar.

_________________________________________

Hvitserk stared at the three-headed dragon sigil on Freyja’s door debating on whether or not he should knock. It was after dinner, everyone else went to their respective chambers but Hvitserk. He decided to wait until his brothers had fallen asleep, their breathing even with Ivar snoring in the background. He wiggled out of his bed, put on his boots and tiptoed out of the room. Hvitserk couldn’t wait any longer to do what he needed to do. He held his breath and knocked. Inside he heard Fenrir let out a muffled bark then Freyja shushing him softly. She was surprised to see Hvitserk so late.

“Hvitty” Freyja said in a low voice, “It’s really late you know”

He swallowed, “I know but I had to see you, may I come in?”

Freyja looked behind him and down the halls to check if the coast was clear, once she was sure they were alone she opened the door wider to allow him to come in. Hvitserk whistled at the beauty of her room. Now, THIS was a room for a royal princess. Freyja even had her own study, gold, silver, and the finest silk in all of the lands were owned by her, Fenrir the direwolf had his own bed right next to the fireplace but knowing his owner, he probably slept with her every night.

She suddenly realized that they were alone, just the two of them, and she flushed a deep red. “Hvitty, what are you doing here so late? What is it you wanted to tell me?” Even in her simple pretty nightgown with her hair let down she was still the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Shieldmaiden or Queen, Hvitserk would love her either way. What if she rejected him? What if she chose another brother? He couldn’t imagine being in the arms of another.

“You’re beautiful, Freyja” Hvitserk managed to whisper, “more beautiful than the Goddess herself”

The princess giggled, “Thank you Hvitserk is that why you came to me so late? Because you wanted to tell me I was more beautiful than the Goddess?”

“No! I mean, yes but I wanted to do something else” It was his turn to blush. His heart was pounding and Hvitserk wanted to crawl under the bed and hide. The son of Ragnar Lothbrok, legendary Viking, too shy to admit what he wanted to do. “I wanted to ask if...if I could...”He looked down, heat spreading across his face, “Freyja you are so beautiful with a heart of gold, is it alright if I kissed you? I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to”.

Freyja burst into a fit of giggles. “Have you ever kissed a girl Hvitty?”

He blushed again, “No. Have you ever kissed a boy?”

She rolled her eyes, “Bjorn is too overprotective, you know that”

“We will be each others first then-first kiss I mean”

She took his hand, a gentle smile on her lips, “I would love that very much”

Hvitserk sighed, relieved. He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes falling in love with every passing second and leaned in. They closed their eyes just as their lips met just a gentle touch with lips barely parted, his hand cupped her burning cheek.

They pulled away shortly after, they couldn’t get caught kissing especially in her room. But Hvitserk and Freyja were smiling so hard their face hurt. He pressed her forehead against hers, “I knew your lips tasted like honey. Thank you...”

She shook her head, “No Hvitty, thank you. Let me walk you back to your chambers”

The pair walked all the way to the other side of the Red Keep talking and laughing the whole time. When they stopped outside his chambers, Hvitserk said, “Freyja won’t you get in trouble for being out so late?”

“I would rather get in trouble for walking around than you getting in trouble for visiting my chambers so late at night”

Hvitserk kissed her cheek one last time, “Goodnight Frey, thank you”

“Goodnight Hvitty”. He watched her disappear around the corner leaving him blushing for the rest of the night.

Halfway up the stairs to her chambers, Freyja bumped into her annoying uncle. He stank of wine and his feverish eyes looked even crazier. He was still wearing his dinner silks.

“What are you doing out here so late?” He snapped, “shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Why do you care? I was on my way to bed anyway!” Freyja bit back and shoved past him.

But Viserys gripped her arm and shoved her until she was close enough to smell the bitter alcohol. “You do not talk to me like that do you understand? I am your Uncle and you respect me!”

Freyja tried to pull away but Viserys had dug his nails deep into her flesh. “I don’t have to do anything you tell me to do now let go!”

“You and those barbarians will pay for taking my Throne away from me and I won’t rest until I’ve had my revenge!”

She dug her own nails into his face scratching his eyes. Viserys hissed in agony pushing her, Freyja let out a scream as she fell down the stairs Viserys could only watch in shock realizing what he had done. Freyja landed face down at the bottom of the stairs and Viserys rushed to her.

“Y-” He turned her over, a small trail of blood coming from out of her nose running down painting her clean gown. Freyja was unresponsive. Her body limp and he wasn’t sure if she was breathing or not but he wasn’t staying to find out. He dropped her on to the cold hard floor and fled to his rooms.

@thot-for-mikehanlon @haleypearce @mellxander1993 @faeeiiry @-thatgirloverthere- @blonddnamedhandz @lettersofwrittencollective @weirdpotatostuff @shelbi-percifull @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @colie87

#blood of the dragon fanfic #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones writing #vikings fanfic #vikings imagine #game of thrones and vikings #vikings writings #hvitserk x reader #sigurd x reader #ivar x reader

78 notes · View notes

ijustwant2write · 5 years

Text

The Benefits of Friendship-Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

(GIF credit to @honestsycrets)

Masterlist

Summary: requested by anonymous: ‘Hello! I’m not sure if you’ll take this idea but I figured I would give it a shot. Could you do one with Y/N and which ever Ragnarson son you would like (Bjorn, Ubbé, Sigurd, Hitvtserk, or Ivar). Can it be about Y/N’s first time with them? Y/N could either be Viking or a slave from another place mentioned in the show.’

Characters: Ivar Ragnarsson x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: mentions of sex, forced marriage, humiliation

(A/N: Siv and Hilde are made up characters; also I hope this is along the lines of what you want.)

(Also A/N: IT DOES NOT MATTER WHAT AGE YOU DO CERTAIN THINS LIKE KISSING, HAVING SEX OR EVEN HAVING A RELATIONSHIP, DO WHAT MAKES YOU COMFORTABLE AND ONLY DO THINGS WHEN YOU ARE READY! DON’T LET OTHERS TELL YOU WHAT TO DO!)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sitting at the kitchen table, I stared at the gifts bestowed to me from my suitors, men trying to bribe me into marrying them. There was jewellery, dresses, foreign foods, and of course money, but I didn’t want any of that. Being betrothed scared me, I knew nothing of what men wanted, nor how to be a perfect wife. I never knew what it was to be loved (besides from my family), there seemed to be no men in Kattegat that were interested; those asking for my hand in marriage only did so because my family were fairly wealthy. Normally this hadn’t bothered me in the past, after a long think about men, I had decided that living freely was the best option for now, before I was trapped in a marriage I didn’t want to commit to.

Though seeing my friends fooling around with the other boys, or even beginning relationships of their own accord, made my true feelings shine through. Festivities and feasts were probably the worst. I couldn’t get away from it, they were huddled up together, kissing, flirting. Although I was happy for them, slight jealousy always shone through, forcing me to leave them before I ruined the night.

“Still having trouble choosing?” my grandmother asked as she slowly walked towards me.

“Something like that.” I mumbled, still staring at the gifts.

“They’re all very nice, wouldn’t mind some of these myself.”

“Oh, how will I ever decide?” I sarcastically stated.

“I don’t understand how you’re not married off already.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s enough men longing for you,” I rolled my eyes at her,“and these are only a few offers.”

“Well they won’t want me when they realise I can’t be the perfect wife for them.”

“Ah, what makes a perfect wife anyway? As long as they have somewhere to stick their cock, men are happy.”

I grimaced at her statement.“Thank you grandmother.”

I had stared at these items for far too long, and I needed to get away from them. My parents didn’t want to pressure me, but they were going to want an answer at some point. How was I supposed to make a decision like that when I hardly knew them? I hardly knew anything about men in general! It was embarrassing to think I hadn’t even kissed a man, yet I was going to be married soon. All these lies I had to keep up with, answering people’s questions with made up stories just so I didn’t seem sad or unwanted. There was only so much you could make up with a lack of experience.

As usual, it was busy in the centre of Kattegat. I wove between people, smiling at those I knew. But no matter how much I tried to distract myself, my mind found itself constantly thinking about my big decision. Perhaps I should talk to some of the other girls I knew in arranged marriages, they didn’t all seem bad...

Looking over a handful of bracelets at a stall, I heard the familiar sound of scraping along the ground. I saw him approaching in my peripheral vision, as well as the crowd dispersing quickly, some hiding their faces.

“Hello Prince Ivar.” I turned to him and smiled, curtsying before him.

“(Y/N), it’s good to finally see you again. Where have you been hiding this time?” He asked, walking past me with his crutches.

I followed on.“I wasn’t hiding, I was only at home. I had important things to do.”

“Ah yes, your suitors. I have seen quite a few come and go.”

I sighed.“Yes, there are a few to choose from.”

“I’m not surprised, your family are almost as wealthy as mine, there will be many wanting to marry you.”

“And here I thought that they were marrying me because they loved me.”

He chuckled.“You always knew this day would come, we even spoke of this when we were young.”

Being a wealthy family, we were respected just as much as Ivar and his. I had grown up with the Ragnarsson’s when I was much younger, though we parted as we became young adults. There were too many responsibilities for them, and as for me, I had to act like a proper lady; they went off raiding, avenged their father, came back, argued, and here I was, waiting for someone to take interest in me. It seemed that Ivar was the only one who bothered to keep up conversation with me. At first I assumed it was to stay loyal and friendly to my family, but we somehow ended up as friends again. Ivar was blunt and honest, and I didn’t have anyone around me like that anymore. I needed that, he kept me sane.

“I know. It’s just...”

“Let me guess, you’re scared?”

“What? No-”

“All women are scared, don’t worry.”

“I suppose so. I just don’t want to choose the wrong one. What if he’s nice when I first meet him and then cruel as soon as I am bound to him?”

“Then you better make the right decision.”

I rolled my eyes.“How am I to do that when...never mind.”

“No, go on. What is it? It seems that I am to be your council today, I should give my advice.”

He came to a stop, and it was only then when I realised that we were stood outside the Great Hall. I leaned against the wall, looking away from him. It was too embarrassing, there was no way I was going to tell him my true thoughts.

“(Y/N), you’re hiding something.”

“No I’m not! Let’s just stop talking of this, I came out here to get away from these thoughts.”

“Come, you need a drink.”

“I am not letting you get me drunk.”

“You do that yourself, I have no part in it.”

I sat with Ivar for hours, my cup overflowing with alcohol as I ranted to my friend. I didn’t know whether he was actually interested, but that didn’t stop me. I couldn’t believe how angry I was becoming over this, how much emotion I had hidden within myself. At first the hall had been quiet, only us two in there (minus my shouting as I drank more and more) until Hvitserk and Ubbe walked in, their group of friends trailing behind them, laughing loudly. Ivar and I looked over, watching as they approached. Ivar grunted, he never got on with these people, let alone his brothers. I normally would welcome them with a smile, beckon them over even, but right now, I didn’t need any couples around me.

“(Y/N)! There you are! Finally, Ivar has been missing you.” Ubbe teased, rubbing Ivar’s head. The younger brother shoved him away, avoiding eye contact with me.

“(Y/N), you’re drinking without us? We best catch up then!” Hilde and Siv giggled as they crowded me, snatching up the drinks being poured out. Ivar and I shared a glance, not sure where this night would lead.

Unfortunately, my night was filled with questions from my friends about my suitors; what they looked like, how much money they had, what gifts they had bestowed upon me. It was draining to go over the details, and they could tell that I was holding things back. However, this didn’t stop them from interrogating me, soon everyone was joining in.

“You know what I just realised?” Hilde caught everyone’s attention.“I’ve never seen (Y/N) around a man, romantically I mean.”

The others looked at each other, some nodding and others thinking it over. I glared at her, praying that this conversation wasn’t going where I thought it was.

“Have you ever been asked about courting (Y/N)? Any gifts, any gestures? Besides those wanting you for money.”

“No.” I mumbled.

“Really?! Even at feasts and festivals? Not even when everyone is pissed up drunk?” Siv exclaimed.

I lowered my head, humiliated by my ‘friends’ words.“I...it just...”

“(Y/N),” Hvitserk held back a laugh,“you have had sex, right? Please tell me someone has taken her virginity!”

I opened my mouth to retaliate when Hilde interrupted.“Why didn’t you tell us? We would have set you up with someone!”

“No wonder shes’s always frustrated! That explains a lot!”

Siv gasped.“Is that why you’re always with Ivar? Because you’re both virgins?”

Ivar growled, slamming his fist on the table.“You know very well that I have bedded women before.”

“Ivar, not getting it up doesn’t count.”

I didn’t hear Ivar’s insult back as I bolted from my chair, rushing out of the room. I thought these people of dear friends, yet here they were, disrespecting me, only judging me by who I had sex with...or who I hadn’t had sex with. It was dark now, and that mixed with the alcohol was really effecting my stability, I was stumbling over my own feet as I tried to navigate my way back home. When I finally made it there, I quickly calmed myself, not wanting to wake any of them with my sobbing. Luckily I found that none of them were awake, making it easier for me to crawl into bed, curling up into a tight ball as I silently cried myself to sleep.

The next day I was quiet, still upset about being made fun of. When asked if I was well, I responded to my family that I was still overthinking my decision of a suitor. The lie worked, all of them soothing me, reassuring me that my mind would be made up soon.

Daydreaming as I looked out of a window, I was brought back to reality when I saw a slow, tall figure stumble its way towards my home. My eyes squinted, confirming my guess as to who it was. Without a word being said, I grabbed my cloak, rushing outside to meet Ivar halfway. He looked pissed off (nothing unusual there), not making eye contact as I cam to a stop in front of him.

“Ivar, what are you doing here?” I asked, out of breath from running.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“You seem surprised.”

“Sorry, I’m sure you have better things to be getting on with.”

“You’re my friend....come, let’s go for a walk.”

Ivar seemed skittish, nervous almost. I wanted to be careful with my words, especially since the conversation wasn’t flowing as well as it usually did. Ivar was explosive, one wrong word and he could get so angry that even the Gods would tremble. We found ourselves on a winding path in the woods, an uncomfortable silence filling the atmosphere.

“You’re still upset over what was said?” Ivar finally said, leaning against a tree as he took a moment to rest.

I suddenly snapped back.“Yes! Of course I am! They embarrassed me, I thought they would be more sympathetic. I’ve never mentioned it before because I was scared something like this would happen-”

He raised his hand as he interrupted me.“Alright, I get it, I don’t need to hear your rambling.”

“You really know how to make someone feel better.”

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. Look...I understand what it’s like to be in that situation. But how could that be true?”

“Really Ivar? I don’t exactly have men throwing themselves at my feet.”

“They are fools.”

“Don’t pity me.”

“I’m not.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, slightly blushing from his comment.“What are you trying to say?”

“Why do you care so much about what they think?”

I knew he was trying to change the subject.“It’s not really about them. It’s about the man I’ll be marrying. Who wants a woman who has never had any experience? I’ve never even kissed a-”

Ivar grabbed the back of my head, harshly pulling me in to kiss him. Shocked, I stayed still against him, unsure of what to do. But as soon as he started moving his lips, my instincts kicked in. I started to get more into it, liking how it felt, especially when his other arm wrapped around my lower back, our bodies pressed together.

Ivar pushed me away gently.“There, now you’ve kissed a man.”

I knew that my next words were bold, but I was going to say it anyway.“You know that I’ve not done anything else as well right?”

“(Y/N), you can’t possibly want to bed a cripple-”

“Don’t use your legs as an excuse! Do you want to fuck me or not?”

His mouth gaped open.“I-Right here?”

“Yes. Ivar I trust you-”

“But what if I can’t....”

Insecurity swept over me.“Do you...do you want to?”

I saw that he was thinking about it, before a darker look washed over his face.“Get on your knees.”

“What?” his sentence made me breathless, but I liked how he said it.

“Just do as I say, I’m going to show you how to properly please a man.”

#ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar ragnarsson imagines #ivar ragnarsson one shot #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar #ivar imagine #ivar imagines #ivar one shot #ivar x reader #vikings #vikings imagine #vikings imagines #vikings one shot #vikings x reader

453 notes · View notes

equalstrashflavoredtrash · 6 years

Text

Just a Quick Dip

a/n: so somthing possessed me this afternoon and i wrote this.. I HOPE YOU ENJOY

warnings: spying on boys swimming in the buff and then later; flirtin’

FF.net // Ao3 // Masterlist

Hvitserk X OFC // Vikings

word count: 1,533

It happened by accident.

You’d been walking along the path in the woods with your friend, chatting idly as you made your way towards the grove to pick berries. There was a small window when they’d be perfectly ripe and abundant and both of you were excited to take advantage of that. Each of you carried two empty baskets, thinking more about the fruit they would hold than your surroundings when a bark of laughter rang through the leaves and caught your attention.

Knowing you were near a popular swimming spot, where the river deepend just before the rocky falls, your friend eagerly shuffled through the bushes, trying to spy on who had broken the quiet of the woods while you hissed that this was wrong. Ignoring your protests, she carefully peeled back the branches of the bush. Crouching, she giggled to herself at the sight before her, urging you to join. Blowing a huff of air you decided to humor her, and crawled on your knees to rest beside her.

You weren’t sure what you had expected exactly, but it was definitely not a clear view of the Ragnarsons bathing. Your hand flew to cover your mouth, stifling your gasp as you took in the view. They were all nude and joking around, splashing water at each other in competition.

Pulling back you faced your friend. “We shouldn’t watch,” you exclaimed, trying to keep your voice hushed. Ignoring your words, your friend grinned, taking in the sight with joy.

“Look, look,” she urged, pulling your shoulder flush with hers. Peering through the gap in the branches you watched as Hvitserk fought off Sigurd and succeeded in climbing on top of the boulder in the center of the river. Standing on the peak that just barely crested out of the calm current, he pumped his arms celebrating his success and proudly exclaiming he was the king.

Your jaw dropped as you watched him rise from the water, seeing every detail of his form. Watching the droplets roll from his shoulders down his chest, through the sparse body hair that lead your eyes like magnets down his abdomen. Gnawing on your lip, you could feel your throat going dry at the sight, but still you spoke. “This is wrong, we shouldn’t be spying. Hvitserk is my friend,” you insisted though you continued to unabashedly study his improvised victory dance.

“I know you two grew up together,” your friend replied in a chiding tone as she nudged your side with her elbow. “But suddenly, I want to be good friends with him, too.”

So enthralled with the sight before you, you absently pivoted where you sat. Shifting onto your knees, you didn't notice the branch before you, until it snapped under your weight. While the sound was not prominent, it was still enough that all of the boys’ heads whipped around to look in your direction.

Cursing under your breath, you and your friend scrambled to your feet. Meanwhile, Ubbe gave a commanding nod of his chin to Hvitserk, who still a top the boulder, was closest to the bushes you’d been hiding in. He waded to the shore, climbing over the grass on the river bank to poke his head through the branches.

Hvitserk smiled to himself when he spotted the recognizable pattern of your favorite skirt weaving past the tree trunks as you made your escape.

“There’s no one here. I think it was just a critter,” he called to his brothers as he emerged from the bush. The others relaxed at the news, enjoying the warm water as Hvitserk started to plot how he would get you back.

“Did something happen?” your mother asked as you burrowed further under the blankets, refusing to leave the cabin. “Normally you jump at any chance to go to the Great Hall and see Hvitserk. Did he do something to you? Is this something I should know about?”

“No-oo, Mama,” you groaned into your pillow, wanting to shut your eyes and block out your mother’s worried expression,though also fearing the image you’d see inside your eyelids if you did. In the week since you had been by the riverside, you found yourself constantly plagued by the sight and thought of your oldest friend naked.

If you had your way, you’d still be up in the field, harvesting berries--at least that kept your mind occupied. But once the sun dipped below the tree line, your friend began to complain about the bugs and the cold, which eventually annoyed you into returning home. Then, in the following days, your subconscious constantly drifted off without prompting.

You day dreamed of a warm breeze and the sound of waves gently lapping at the shore as you laid in the long grass next to Hvitserk. The sun warming your exposed skin, as he runs his hand up your side--from your hip to your ribs--at a lackadaisical pace. Savoring his touch and the way the texture of his palm, speckled with callouses from handling weapons, tickles at your skin--

“If nothing happened then I don’t see why you need to mope around in bed,” your mother stated, jerking you back from your infectious fantasy. “You’re being silly and I will not tolerate it.”

Though your father had died while raiding when you were a just baby, his friendship and loyalty to King Ragnar had earned your family a permanent place at his table. Feasts were a regular event your mother always made an effort to attend. When you were younger the gatherings never excited you, but still you would join her in hopes to spend the evening running around and having fun as you wreaked havoc with the princes inside the crowded hall.

“Fine, fine,” you grumbled, lifting your head only to find your mother’s exasperated expression. It didn't take long for you to get ready, making so little effort as to merely pull on a clean frock. Your mother fussed over your hair, pulling it back into a pair of neat braids so you’d look somewhat presentable.

Upon entering the hall, you quickly took a seat that was tucked away in a dark corner, hoping to suffer through the night alone. It appeared that was not what would happen. The moment you crossed the threshold, Hvitserk spotted you. He watch as you retreated from the crowd before gathering a second horn, impatient to talk to you.

“Hey,” he said, taking a seat in the empty stool to your left. He set one drink on the table before you as an unspoken offering. Out of reflex you reached for the cup, protecting it from the elbow of the large viking who sat next to you, though faced away.

“I haven’t seen you around lately,” Hvitserk continued despite your lack of response. “I’ve been looking,” he added, nudging his knee against yours under the table.

Your eyes shot open at the comment, looking up to finally notice the smirk that rested so casually on his lips.

“Hey,” he cooed in a low voice as he leaned it. “I know you saw us all at the river.” Hvisterk gave you a wink which only served to set your cheeks aflame. “It’s ok,” he added, watching your expression. “I didn't tell my brothers, they have no idea.”

At a complete loss of what to do next you lifted the horn of ale to your lips and chugged down the remaining contents. Hvitserk bit his bottom lip, enjoying your flustered reaction.

While you were distracted by your drink, Hvitserk slid his right hand to his lap. He waited until you lowered your cup before letting his palm languidly snake down his thigh, towards were his knee brushed against your leg under the table.

“You know,” he began as his fingers first made contact. You were hyper away of his touch, growing more flushed as he moved to cup the top of your knee. “If you wanted to learn how to play King of the Rock, I’d be happy to give you a private lesson.” Hvitserk’s voice was low and husky as he made the proposition, speaking only loud enough for you to hear.

“Really?” you squeaked out, unintentionally high-pitched. He smiled, eyes locked on yours, holding your attention in an invisible vice while his grip tensed around your upper thigh.

“There’s no one I’d rather play with.”

The nervous gulp you took was more than audible to him over the din of revlevery that filled the room.

“When-when would be the first lesson?” you questioned, still not believing his offer.

Hvitserk scanned casually over his shoulder towards the open doors and windows. “It’s a warm night. We could start now, if you’d like,” he offered, drawing his eyes back to you at a painfully languid pace.

Once your gazes connected you could no longer suppress your grin. “Okay.” If your response was overly eager, Hvitserk did not notice.

His hand flew from its resting place on your thigh to clasp your own. His fingers twisted between your knuckles as he excitedly pulled you from your seat. You couldn’t help but giggle as you trailed behind him, nearly skipping with joy as you followed his lead.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! PLEASE LEAVE A REPLY OR SOMETHING WITH YOUR THOUGHTS AND COMMENTS, LIKE THAT’S WHAT DIRECTLY FUELS ME TO WRITE MORE

@beautifulramblingbrains @ariwolf14 @titty-teetee @peaky-yamyam @whenimaunicorn @sweetvengeancee @ivarinleatherpants @hvitserksgirl @tiyetiye @romanchronicles @oddsnendsfanfic @murmelinchen @buckybarnesisalittleshit @laketaj24 @readsalot73 @honestsycrets @ivarsshieldmadien [[if you want to be tagged for my vikings stuff in the future, leave a reply]]

#hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk ragnarson #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk vikings #ivars heathen army #ubbes wolfpack #my writing

79 notes · View notes

greennightspider · 6 years

Text

A Drunk Time, A Fun Morning After

Just a very fun lighthearted oneshot that I thought up, set in the Vikings Era around Season 4 where Ragnar is gone but that hasn’t stopped his sons raiding England. (This also is a world where Maragette and Ivar didnt happen, and you’ll find out why soon enough heheheh) Ivar x Reader(ish)

@laketaj24

“BROTHERS!!!”

“Odin’s hell is he always this loud?” you groan, not moving from your face-down-on-bench positon.

“The question is when is he not this loud.” you heard Ubbe groan back in reply, also failing to get up in response to the curses of the youngest ragnarsson.

“Agh, whatever he wants someone throw it so it hits him in the face and he stops yelling.” Hvisterk is on the floor propped up against one of the tall wooden beams of the great hall with a hand to his head, trying to nurse the hangover from last nights’ great feast.

The night before there was a great celebration of the latest successul raid against the Saxons, one which honoured all of the recently returned warriors, including yourself. The night had been one of laughing, dancing, fighting, the usual Viking banter. You yourself were deemed an honourary shieldmaiden, as you were sent three moons before as a scout from a foreign land, to assess the Vikings territory in terms of trade opportunities. They had since welcomed you to join in their training and battles during your stay, as they recognized early on from your physique and your rather ‘adept’ way of rejecting wayward advances that you were not to be messed with. Soon enough you became close friends with the Ragnarsons, spending a lot of time with them and with Queen Aslaug as a foreign ambassador.

A foreign ambassador who was slowly remembering how she challenged all four brothers to a drinking match. Or three, you were struggling to remember. Ivar was not a snob, but he wasn’t much for socializing, and left soon after the feasting was done and the heavy drinking began. Which explained why he was so energetic, even though the rest of you could barely open your eyelids.

You slowly shift your head to the side to scan the Great Hall, although 'great’ wasn’t really the adjective you would use at the moment. With Ubbe on the bench next to you, Hvitserk by the beam in the middle of the room, and Bjorn still snoring with his head in a bucket lying in a pile of hay near the doorway, it looked like you were the raidees instead if the raiders.

“BROTHERS!!! YOU BETTER NOT BE STILL LYING IN THE GREAT HALL LIKE SLOTHS”

“Oh great, not only is he a cripple, but now he has the powers of the seer.” A voice slurrs from the bucket, Ivars roar obviously waking Bjorn from his slumber.

This earns sluggish laughs from the rest of you, however you all knew you’d have to at least look like you were trying to get up when he got through the door. As you slowly try to bring both arms to your sides to push yourself up, you hear him bellow once more. “YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I THERE IS WORK TO BE DONE FOR THE NEXT RAID. AND DO NOT THINK ILL GO EASY ON YOU BECAUSE OF LAST NIGHT. No one FORCED you to drink with the dark-skinned ‘shieldmaiden’, no matter how pretty her eyes may be.” Ivar spat, almost in a mocking tone.

At about this time you’d had enough. Your head is ringing, and Ivars’ incessant shouting is making it five times worse. And on top of that, you had a name. And Ivar should know better than anyone that you were more than just a pair of “pretty eyes”. You finally push yourself up off the bench ready to give Ivar a piece of your mind at around the same time Ivar arrives at the doorway. “And DO NOT EVEN GET ME STA-

As soon as Ivar’s eyes landed on you, he stopped dead in his tracks. "Err, Ivar?” You ask, squinting at him sideways, forgetting your annoyance. You’d never seen him in shock like this before.

Ivar takes a strained gulp and tries to speak. “I-uhm-”

“Do any of you know what is wrong with Ivar?” As you turn, you realise you are also getting strange reactions from the rest of the brothers. Bjorn was trying to whistle and intently study non-existent carvings on the wall next to him. Ubbe is also attempting to avert his eyes, although failing miserably. The only reason you figured it out was when you turn to Hvisterk looking almost in wonder and in hunger at you, but not exactly at eye level. In fact, his gaze was a bit lower than that…

“Wow Y/N, who knew that under all that armour was such a beautiful pair of-”

Hvitserks face promptly connects with the pail that was originally Bjorns sleeping companion, whom Bjorn threw to Ubbe so that Ubbe could get a better shot. And it was at this point you look down to follow Hvitserks previous eyeline.

Which made you remember that the night before, in celebration for winning not only the drinking contest, but also being the last one awake in the Great Hall, you had removed your shirt and swung it round your head as part of a victory dance, before finally throwing it in the fire.

Which meant that you had never put it back on.

“Ah.”

You quickly look back at Ivar, his face almost redder than the time he’d faced down a dozen Christians with blood dripping down his face.

Before you could say anything to the beetroot warlord, Ubbe throws you his shirt which lands squarely in your face. “Put this one before Ivar ends up collapsing, or Hvistserk tries to jump you.”

At this point Ivar promptly snaps out of it and stutters “Well-I-I guess I will come back some other time” he stutter out, looking at the ground and rushing as fast as he could through the hall. His crutch barely is touching the ground as he almost throws himself into his room before slamming the door.

Putting Ubbes shirt on you muse, “Well, that is a first. Where I am from, it’s not uncommon for warriors to show skin to each other once in a while. However, I did not expect Ivar of all people to become faint-hearted at the sight of… well…” you look down.

“Well, we mean no disrespect, but I confess, it is the first time we have seen the chest of a woman like you, so it is curious to us. However I think it is the first time Ivar has seen a woman’s chest besides our mother’s.” says Ubbe, which would explain Ubbes’ his failings at looking away.

“I must admit, its a sight I wouldn’t mind viewing again.” Hvitserk sighs as he looks off almost in a daydream, with Bjorn rolling his eyes behind him. You scoff and then laugh. You were used to Hvitserks’ remarks by now, and Hvitserk was also very used to your more, athletic, ways of rejection.

“Well in any case, you should do that more often, I’d love to see Ivar stumped like a stunned deer again.” Ubbe laughs, grabbing your shoulder.

And who knows, maybe you would, now that you had found Ivar’s weakness. Your eyes slowly but casually drift to the door of Ivar’s bedroom. But maybe a more, private show next time.

;)

#ivar x reader #ivar x woc #vikings #vikings fanfiction #ivar oneshot #is this going to be a oneshot?#should there be a sequel?#ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar #vikings woc fanfiction #greennightspider #A drunk time a fun morning after

223 notes · View notes