#youbloodymadgenuis1kcelebration

[underatedcharactersunite]

The Iron Queen

Summary - The Iron Queen is a legend, a myth even. However, Ivar the Boneless wants to prove her existance. When he does, it's almost as if Fate brings them together, so the two of them can become legendary together....

Pairing - Ivar the Boneless x Female Reader 

WordCount - 2, 919 

Warnings - Angst, mentions of upcoming battles.  

For @youbloodymadgenius 1K Writing Challenge. Congratulations!                                                          »»————-　♔　————-««

Before the Iron Queen became to be, she was a legendary warrior Princess. She was a ruthless and tactful warrior in every sense of the word. There was no weapon she couldn't master, sword, shield, bow and arrow, axe or spear. She could use it all and use them well. In many minds, she was the perfect warrior, a combination of talent and intelligence. Y/N was loved among the warriors alike.

However, that all changed when Y/N became the Iron Queen of Mountmead. Unlike the other Kings, Y/N's Father final wish was to abolish their eldest law. From this day forth, until the end of time, whether the firstborn child is a son or daughter, they would be heir to the throne. Y/N's Father adapted the law to give his only daughter and child the throne.

This angered the surrounding Kings and Lords. Their ideologies were simple. a woman was not fit to rule. A woman was far too emotional to make rational decisions. They were unfit to lead armies and clueless in battle strategy, so the death of the King of Mountmead brought the potential to expand their lands despite the crowing of a new Queen. They had no respect or loyalty to her. They saw Y/N as a weak and passive woman, but they didn't realise how wrong they were.

Within the first several months of her coronation, Y/N and her army encountered six different battles. In every battle, Y/N was there leading her army to defeat the enemies that threatened her people. She refused to be seen as weak.

These battles created and enforced the Queen. She was to be cool and calculating, skilled and intellectual. Y/N made certain she surrounded herself with her closest and loyal advisors. Ser Favian was the head of her Queensguard. He'd also been the head of her Father's Kingsguard. A man who had been there from the day her Father was coronated. Secondly, there was Ser Conadus, head of her army and key battle Strategist. Ser Conadus was also her loyal confidant. After all, he'd been there for every major milestone in her life. There was no circumstance or situation Y/N couldn't speak to Ser Conadus about.

As Ferocious as Y/N was on the battlefield, she still maintained kindness in her heart. She often walked the streets, discussing the issues that were arising and how they could be solved. Y/N was able to provide reassurance to her people. Y/N made time in her day as frequently as possible to see people, to converse with traders. She kept a brave face for them all.

Hidden behind that brave face laid the devasting truth. Life as her people knew it was threatened. The surrounding Lords and Kings made a collective decision to bring their armies together to create an army of the thousands. While the Great Army of Mountmead was no easy defeat. Their numbers were no-where near as large. Y/N didn't know how to solve their issues. Repeatedly, she reached out to offer a truce to the other Lords and Kings, but it was no luck. They all desired Mountmead for themselves and they believed they were going to take it from the Iron Queen. They shared no resources and implemented laws in their Kingdoms. If any person was caught trading with the Iron Queen or any member of Mountmead, they were executed without question. This restricted the Iron Queen to land. No boats, to sail in search of allies. They were stuck. All of them in mortal danger.

Unbeknownst, to Y/N someone, had been looking for her. As fate would have it, the idea of a legendary warrior Princess turned Queen had become a legendary story. It had spread through many Kingdoms and lands with several different variations. Most believed these tales of the Iron Queen to be nothing more than that, tales.

Except one, Ivar the Boneless believed different. Ivar believed the Iron Queen, Y/N of Mountmead, existed and, he was determined to find her. In the beginning, Ivar had no idea where to begin his search, so he sent scouts to the North, South, East and West. When they returned, they came up empty. However, Ivar refused to give in. Ivar proceeded to continue to send his Scouts out each time, further and in different directions. Each time they came up without sight of the Iron Queen.

This continued until one trip the scouts returned to Kattegat with news of the discovery. His latest scouting mission had been a success. With this new information, Ivar knew hr needed to act quickly. Instructing the scouts to gather his brothers into the Great Hall, he sat down and waited for them to arrive. Ivar waited and waited for his brothers when they finally walked in.

"How do I always arrive before you?" Ivar questioned as all of his brothers took their seats.

"Because you decided to meet us here Ivar." Ubbe retorted as he paid attention to his youngest brother.

"Ivar, why have you gathered us here?" Bjorn questioned.

"Because I have found the Iron Queen."

"Your lying!" Sigurd yelled as Ivar smirked. Ivar didn't mind being underestimated. Sigurd was only jealous, he hadn't been able to do it.

"Why would I lie, Sigurd? My scouts have drawn a map to her Kingdom, and I wish to go visit her because she is in terrible danger?"

"Is she as beautiful as they say she is?" Hvitserk questioned. All of his brothers turned to look at him.

"Ivar informs us the Iron Queen is in danger, and that is the first question you have, Hvitserk." Sigurd responds as Hvitserk shrugs."

"A man has to know these things, Sigurd."

"Yes, the Iron Queen is more beautiful than she's described as. However, if someone doesn't help her, then no-one is going to see her beauty in person."

"Why is she in danger? Ubbe questioned as he poured a horn of mead, taking a large sip.

"The surrounding Lords and Kings do not respect her as Queen. When they're from, they believe women are unable to lead and participate in the battle. Although Y/N has been in more battles than most of the surrounding Kings and Lords."

"You say she's been in many battles, so why is she in danger?"

"Because Ubbe, the surrounding Lords and Kings have grouped to create one large army. According to the scouts, the Iron Queen has a decent sized army, but not one large enough to defeat them."

"What's in it for us?" Why should we help a stranger?"

"Isn't it obvious, Bjorn? We go to the Iron Queen, offer ourselves as an ally in exchange for the first selection of any the lands we conquer."

"That seems to be a fair trade. Whatever lands we take can be used as a new settlement and a base for further exploration. I say we go."

"Thank you Hvitserk. Anyone else?"

"I am coming with you," Sigurd responds to Ivar's surprise.

"I will come just to keep an eye on all three of you. Perhaps we should extend the offer to Harald and Halfdan. They could be useful to us."

"That is a good idea, Ubbe. What says you, Bjorn?"

"I shall stay here, make sure Kattegat remains running smoothly. If the God's desire us to meet, it shall be."

That night the sons of Ragnar began to create plans to set sail to Mountmead and the Iron Queen. They set sail with a small part of their army, with the plan that more men would follow days later. Help was coming to the Iron Queen and she didn't even know it.

                                           »»————-　♔　————-««

Y/n had been in meetings all morning, they'd already attempted to plan out their defence attacks, but there was always a weak spot in their armour. There was no use, they simply needed more men. Men they didn't have.

"My Queen, we will figure it out. They haven't beaten us yet." One of the small council commented as Y/N examined the map once more.

"What we need is a miracle. Unfortunately, they don't happen often and early enough" It was as if someone was listening to her desires as Ser Favian came bursting through the door.

"My Queen, men have arrived on the shore. They hold no banner or sail. They don't appear to be apart of any of the surrounding threats."

"Lord Pollack, will you continue to lead this meeting in my absence. Ser Conadus will you accompany me to the Thron, Ser Favian will you gather some of the Queensguard to watch the remaining men. Bring the leaders to the throne room."

"Yes, of course, My Queen." They nodded and bowed respectfully as Y/N already stepped away from the meeting with Ser Conadus flanked her as she feared the worst.

"Nicholas, I don't think I can deal with any further setbacks. We're already at war on land, we can't compete with threats from the ocean as well."

"Relax my dear. ;Perhaps this is a beneficial meeting. You need to keep calm, just because we're at war doesn't mean everyone's a threat. Remember, your lessons." As the large, solid oak doors opened, someone announced the Iron Queen as she raised her head high, removing any emotion in her mind and gaze.

Although Y/N's attention was already directed towards one of the men in front of her. All of the men had knelt except one."

"I told you to kneel." Ser Favian attempted to force the man onto his knees, but Y/N noticed the glimmer of the buckle her pace quickened.

"Ser Favian, can you not see the restraints on his legs . Since when did we treat our guests so poorly." Ser Favian backed away immediately kneeling.

"I'm sorry, forgive Ser Favian it was a simple misunderstanding." Noticing a chair in the corner, Y/N walked over and picked up the chair and brought it up towards the man, placing it behind him.

That's when Y/N caught the first proper glimpse of the man. The piercing blue eyes, the muscular arms, his smirk etched onto his face as he observed your expression scan all over him. You hadn't glanced at his brothers, Harald or Halfdan or Floki. Just him.

Ivar was just as mesmerised by her as she was him. Y/N was just as beautiful as his scouts had told him she was. She was both assertive and confident. Ivar wanted to know her and no-one was going to stop him from getting what he know desired the most.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, My Queen. My name is Ivar the Boneless, these are my brothers, as well as Harald Finehair, Halfdan the Black and Floki. We are here to offer our services." Ivar confidently took ahold of Y/N's hand without, hesitating brought her knuckles up and brushed his lips against them. Ivar did not miss the way her eyes widened in shock, momentarily before her composure regained.

"Y/N lowered her head as she stepped back towards the steps to her throne once she was seated, she called for everyone to raise as she once more looked towards Ivar the Boneless.

"You wish to offer your services to me, and the Kingdom of Mountmead, why?"

"I believe together we could be an unstoppable force. We have all heard of your battles and the current threat that you have surrounding you. My Queen, we have the numbers you need." Tuning to Ser Conadus, Y/N examined his gaze as she attempted to read his expression.

"What would you receive in return for your men?"

"First choice of any land that is gained in the result of war." Truth be told, Y/N was beginning to run out of strategic options and perhaps Ivar and the rest of them was her only hope.

"I accept your terms Ivar the Boneless. Ser Favian will see that the rest of the men are given a warm place to sleep. Ser Conadus, would you see that Ivar the Boneless and the rest of his party settle in well."

"Wait my Queen, I have a gift for you." One of Ivar's brothers, called someone forward as they laid a box onto the ground, standing Y/N walked down the stairs as two of Y/N's guard lifted the lid. In the box, it appeared to be a shield with bright colours painted on it.

"Thank you-"

"Hvitserk, my Queen." Smiling, Y/N could already tell that Hvitserk that was the most mischievous out of all of the brothers.

"Thank you Hvitserk." Once more, another brother stepped forward, this time he insisted on carrying the box towards the Iron Queen. Once the lid was lifted it, it revealed a strange looking instrument.

“I an teach you to play it, if you’d like my Queen.” 

“Thank you, that would be lovely-” 

“Sigurd, my Queen.” 

“Thank you, Sigurd.” 

“My Queen, I have one last gift for you. Unfortunately, it does not fit through the castle walls.” Ivar’s voice broke Y/N’s concentration and soon the two of them were accompanied by Ser Conadus and Floki. As Y/N continued to walk silently, Y/N kept pace with Ivar as the two appeared to be heading to the docks. 

“Your Grace, why are people so threatened by a woman?” Floki questioned as Y/N turned towards Floki. 

“In these parts, a woman is believed to be unable to rule. Women are unable to rule because they believe they are unable to think clearly or learn the ways of War. According to them, they shouldn’t have to fight to take my Kingdom, I should bow and give it to them,” 

“We can’t let that happened now can we. Don’t worry Iron Wueen, we will bring them to their knees.” The four of them stepped onto the docks, Y/N glanced around them, wondering what it could be. 

“Turn around my Queen.” Turning around, there was a boat. It was unlike any boat Y/N had seen before stepping closer, was her gift on the boat? 

“What do you think my Queen?” Ivar questioned as Y/N was still unsure what Ivar had given her. Then it dawned on her. 

“The boat, it’s mine. I couldn’t possibly except it.” 

“Why not? The other boat builders refuse to build you a boat so Floki build you a boat. It could be one of many perhaps, if you so desired.” 

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about sailing or running  a boat.” 

“Don’t worry. we can show you, your Grace/” Floki replied as the wind blew while the flag gushed in the wind. 

“Thank you, both of you. You have no idea how important and appreciated this is for me and my Kingdom.” 

“You are more than welcome. I believe this is a start to a beautiful relationship.” 

                                »»————-　♔　————-««

The next few days, were manic, as new voices gave new insight and strategies. Their culture was vastly different from Y/N’s, they’re war and battle strategies gave Y/N a unique way of seeing the up and coming battle. 

One thing that Y/N noticed immediately was the high intensity of the sons of Ragnar sibling rivalry, specifically between Ivar and Sigurd.  

Each time she began a discussion with either one of them, she could practically feel the glares at the back of her head. It only proved her point, they were always trying to compete with one another. 

One morning in particular, Y/N had broken her fast early so she could take a peaceful morning walk, before chaos ensured. 

What should have been a peaceful walk turned into Sigurd following her around discussing how terrible his younger brother was/ Y/N kept quiet while she listened to Sigurd go on about how vicious his brother was. According to Sigurd, Ivar was a monster who had no right to be in her company. Sigurd told her to listen to his words carefully.

Y/N had listened to his words closely, except she’d drawn a completely different conclusion. It was clear to Y/N that Ivar did have his fair share of problems, he was often angry and nearly always had a sombre attitude. Except Y/N was able to dig through the initial layer and realise how much more there was to him. 

While Y/N had appreciated Sigurd’s advice, she’d informed him that she could make her own judgement on Ivar and the rest of them. When her and Sigurd parted ways, he warned her once more. 

                                »»————-　♔　————-««

Later that night as Y.N headed to her chambers, tired from yet another day of back to back small council meetings and war strategy meetings. Y/N had grown tired and in desperate need of sleep. 

Y/N should have known that nothing was ever that simple as she was walking past Ivar’s room, she heard a commotion. Barging through the door, she became quickly aware that Ivar was one the floor in some form of distress.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“I don’t need your help!” Ivar snapped, however, the Iron Queen knelt onto the ground beside him.” 

“Okay, then I shall sit with you then.” 

“Wouldn’t you rather spend time with my brother, Sigurd” Y/N rolled her eyes sitting down on the floor, she stretched her legs so they were diagonally with each other. 

“I gather you never heard the end of the conversation. If you had you would have heard myself inform Sigurd that I am capable of making my own decisions. For sometime now Ivar you had my curiosity but now you have my attention” Ivar smirked, this conversation was about to get interesting. 

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[mrsalwayswrite]

Fight For You (Ivar x Reader)

This is my contribution to @youbloodymadgenius​ 1k celebration! Congrats, love! 

My prompt was: You had my curiosity. But now you have my attention. (Django Unchained)

Warnings: a smidgeon of violence, talk of premeditative murder of a spouse, some possessive!Ivar? my poor attempts at humor and flirting.

Words:3900

  The talking of the other earls, jarls and king grated on Ivar's nerves. Instead of threatening to cut out all of their tongues and make a necklace of them, like he strongly desired to do, he silently reclined in his seat fuming. It was both boring and infuriating to listen to these lesser men squabble amongst themselves like children. But like Hvitserk frequently reminded him, the others needed to be included in the planning. Even if Ivar despised it. 

 So he sat back, pretending to listen to the others as they attempted to make a battle plan. Even if it was a piss poor attempt and honestly, laughable. He kept silent for now. For he had his own plan and when he felt he had given them enough time to argue, he would share what they needed to know to fulfill it. He never shared the full plan; he would never give another that kind of power and knowledge. 

 King Harald Finehair was the least incompetent of the warriors and since at least half of their heathen army was there due to him, many listened intently when he spoke. 

 "If our scouts are correct, our army vastly outnumbers anything the town has." King Harald placed both of his hands on the table, drawing the attention of those under the meeting tent to himself. "I say tomorrow we attack with our full force. If they barricade themselves in, then we burn the gate down."

 "How great will our casualties be then?" Earl Liefson questioned, eyeing most of Norway's King with scrutiny. 

 "Did you not hear King Harald? We outnumber them! Those that die during the fight will certainly go to Valhalla to feast with Odin and Thor. Let us attack without fear or worry!" Jarl Haakon boasted, slapping a hand to his broad chest in emphasis. 

 This time Ivar did not try to suppress his annoyance. He rolled his eyes at the Jarl, practically biting his tongue to withhold a scathing comment. Looking to his left, he caught the gaze of his brother, Hvitserk, who at least was better at hiding his irritation. 

 There were many men that Ivar detested, many men he loathed. Jarl Haakon was most certainly in the top five. The man loved the sound of his own voice and any idea spewed from his mouth usually equaled in value to a pig's fart. At first, Ivar could not fathom how the Jarl managed to stay in his position of power. Sure, he fought like a berserker and thrived on bloodlust like many Vikings…. but he was a pompous, narrow-minded idiot. 

 Yet once the meetings started, plans being drawn for this great raid, Ivar figured it out. 

 It was you. 

 In the beginning, some of the other earls initially protested when Jarl Haakon brought you into the meetings; especially since you were no shieldmaiden, you were only his wife. But when he flatly stated either you came with him or him and his men left, their protests died down. Those very men were further silenced when King Harald greeted you warmly and welcomed your company. 

 At first, Ivar loathed your presence, thinking you were there just to satisfy your husband's ego, his continuous need to show off his beautiful wife. It was only after plans were finalized and Jarl Haakon looked down at you, his hand possessively on your lower back, that Ivar realized you were not there just to look pretty. 

 You surveyed over the "map" drawn into the dirt, eyes analyzing. Then you did the most unexpected thing. You critiqued the plan. Perfecting it in ways that even Ivar had not seen. 

 And the bloodthirsty prince could only sit back in shock and awe. 

 It was after that first encounter, whenever you were nearby, his gaze never strayed far from you. 

 Now, you stood silently next to your husband, focused on the plan being discussed. Instead of fully listening to the others, Ivar watched you. The way you bit your lower lip in concentration, the faint twitch of your right eye when someone said something you disagreed with, the quiet way you controlled your husband with a simple word or touch. It all mesmerized him. 

 What inflamed him the most was the few times your gaze would rise to meet his. The way you would peek at him through your lashes like a shy maiden, as if silently asking for his permission, then speak to the group of men. The power and intellect you kept hidden would be unveiled with your words. It was enough to make Ivar salivate every time. 

 Most women bothered Ivar with their whimpering or tedious nature, even most of the shieldmaidens made him want to plunge a dagger into them. But not you. You were not most women. Ivar swore on all the gods that you were a Valkyrie sent from Odin to bless him, to confirm his favor with the Aesir and his lineage tracing back to Odin himself. 

 Yet somehow you were married to that fool of a Jarl….and Ivar hated it. 

 "What say you, Ivar?" King Harald asked, drawing the prince back to the current conversation. The gazes of the other leaders weighed heavily once their eyes turned to Ivar, but instead of buckling underneath their inquiry, he thrived. 

 "I say why waste time and men? Let us lead a main force from the river like they expect us to do. A second force will attack from the north, hiding in the woods. My scout says there is a second smaller gate that their hunters use to leave the town. Because of its location, it is not well defended. Using that, there will be no need for a siege." He confidently explained his plan, looking around the meeting tent. A knot in his core tightened as he saw the corners of your lips turned upward in a brief smile and the bright gleam in your eyes. His plan was flawless, but seeing your approval bolstered his confidence, made him straighten further in his chair. 

 "Why did you not tell us about this second gate sooner?" An older earl demanded. His fingers tapped on the axe he wore on his hip, either purposefully threatening or mindlessly was yet to be determined. 

 The dark-haired prince rolled his head to the side, glaring at the man with malice in his icy blue eyes. "I waited until the information was necessary. If you sent your own scouts, they may have discovered it themselves instead of wasting their time drunk everyday we've been here."

 "A second gate is fortuitous for us." King Harald interrupted before the earl could respond. "We will lose less men. I will lead the main attack with my men. Ivar will lead the second attack since you were the one who brought this information."

 Ivar cocked his head for a moment then nodded. "Agreed." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jarl Haakon turn to you with a silent question in his look. Without hesitation, you give a single nod and your husband smiled. 

 "What are we standing around for then? We have Saxons to kill and glory and riches to earn. Let us prepare!" Jarl Haakon loudly proclaimed, making a couple of the earls chuckle. After that everyone began to disperse back to their own tents and warriors. Word would spread to prepare for battle the next day. 

 Catching Hvitserk's eye, Ivar motioned for his older brother to accompany him. Together, they walked out of the meeting tent and past groups of warriors, tents and cooking fires. The noon sun blared down on them, causing many to seek shelter under tents or tree canopies. 

 "What is it?" The flaxen-haired warrior asked, falling easily into step with his little brother. 

 Ivar hated how easily his brother could keep pace with him, while he stumbled along with his crippled legs and crutch. It was not Hvitserk's fault, but it was a resentment that Ivar still held nonetheless. Keeping his gaze forward, he grunted a vague reply. "I have questions."

 "Ah." Hvitserk ran a hand over his mustache as he surveyed the camp around them. After a moment, he spoke up again. "Anything to do with y/n?"

 Ivar snapped his head around to glare only to meet the amused look of his smirking brother. His upper lip curled up in a snarl but Hvitserk cut him off with a shrug.

 "What? You're not as subtle as you think you are. You're lucky her husband hasn't taken notice of your…. attention."

 "Shut up."

 "Alright…. we are going to see her though, right?"

 Ivar did not respond, instead he grit his teeth as he pressed on to his destination. Beside him, Hvitserk laughed but kept pace and any further comments to himself. 

 The two princes walked towards Jarl Haakon's tent. From observing, Ivar knew that the Jarl would be off with King Harald, talking to their warriors and finalizing their own plans. Without fail, he always postured himself to the forefront in speaking to their warriors, most likely to make sure his voice was heard just after King Harald and to boost his own ego. Even if his usefulness in making the battle plans was nonexistent. He was a warrior, through and through, but not a strategist. His value lied on his ability to wield his sword and axe on the battlefield.  

 To Ivar's surprise, you always retired to your tent right away after meetings. He witnessed on more than one occasion where your husband tried to convince you to accompany him, all to no avail. Oh, it was obvious your husband cared for you, but he also thrived on the jealous looks from others. His hand continuously rested on your lower back or around your shoulders, pulling you against him, dwarfing you with his larger frame. Frequently, he loudly proclaimed how he was gifted with a wife from Freya herself, making sure to steal a kiss as he laughed boisterously. 

 A coy smile danced on your lips but Ivar could see it hidden in the depths of your eyes, the annoyance and disgust by your husband's actions. You were a goddess on Midgard. That simpleton of a husband was not worthy of you. He should worship at your feet, begging for a moment of your divine attention. Yet, you were his lawful wife.

 And jealousy threatened to burn Ivar alive as he looked on.  

 The son of Ragnar was further enraged as he approached your tent to witness no guards posted in front of it. How dare your husband leave you undefended? He was even more of a fool than Ivar thought.

 With his usual arrogance, Ivar drew back the flap to your tent without calling out for your permission. As he stepped through, he could hear Hvitserk mutter something under his breath behind him, but still followed into the Jarl's tent.

 You stood next to a short table on the far side of the tent. Your hair was out of its typical braids, catching the prince's eye. An image of him running his hand through your hair flashed through his mind without warning. With the cloth in hand and the shallow bowl before you, Ivar knew he had interrupted your cleansing. 

 "Prince Ivar," you started, dragging the cloth down your neck sensually before setting it softly into the bowl. "My husband is not here at the moment. Would you like me to send for him?"

 "That's alright. It's you I'm interested in." He smirked as he watched you straighten further, a faint furrow between your brows. Your eyes continued to hold his, sending a thrill straight down his spine. He moved to the center of the tent, drawing closer as if magnetized by you. Leaning on his crutch, he tipped his head to peer at you. Lesser men would fear being alone with him, a Viking known for his bloodlust and cruelty but not you. There was no fear, no concern for safety in your eyes, only interest….and that amused and enthralled the crippled prince. 

 "I confess, I find your relationship with your husband…. peculiar. At first, I thought you were another pretty face, just another useless wife. But I see now, you are far more cunning and clever than you let on. Even now. Your husband is a fool, but he is intelligent enough to recognize he's need for you. So, I have been curious. Why are you still married to that oaf? I suspect there are far better suitors out there for you."

 You shrugged, taking a couple steps closer to the center of the tent. "It was the gods' will, and he is a good man." 

 "He's an idiot." Ivar deadpanned.  A muffled snort came from the direction of Hvitserk behind him but he kept his piercing eyes on you. 

 "Perhaps. He is still my husband."

 "Mmm….and do you care for your husband?"

 You glanced over at Hvitserk, who stood near the entrance, leaning against a pole casually, and then back to Ivar. For the first time, he saw uncertainty flash across your eyes but it was quickly subdued. "Why does it matter?"

 He moved closer until he stood before you, the sound of his crutch muffled by the furs covering the ground. "He is always touching you, but you never reciprocate. You are…. complacent. Tell me, honestly. Does his intellect bore you? Is that why you run back to your tent?"

 "Ivar…." Hvitserk said in warning, only to be ignored. 

 "Would you bore me?" You asked coquettishly, looking at him from under your lashes, making his heart race. "I find most men…. simple."

 "I think you know the answer to that." His mouth curved in an arrogant smile. "Is that why you steal looks at me during meetings?"

 "Or is it because I feel your eyes on me already?"

 Gods, he wanted to touch you. As you stared into one another's eyes, a silent conversation flowed between you two. It was now he finally saw what he hoped for, what he silently prayed for. A longing lay hidden in your gaze that matched his own. An understanding. A hunger that bespoke of adventure and passion. The torturous desire was enough to drive him mad with need but he refrained. He would make you come to him though, he would make you touch him first to prove your want for him. 

 "Is this…. are you two flirting?" Hvitserk suddenly asked, shattering the revealing moment. 

 "No, brother. I would never flirt with a married woman." Ivar took a step back from you, feeling the space like a chasm between you two. "I think my questions have been answered." He turned around and started towards the entrance. 

 In anger, most people revealed their true selves. He had learned that if he could say the right thing, push people the right way, their true selves, their true desires would manifest. So he decided to see if the meek wife you portrayed was accurate or just a mask, if he could draw that longing out from you. He turned his head just enough to the side to make sure you heard his next statement. "It seems you are just another pretty face after all."

 In the next step, the sharp edge of a dagger pressed to his throat froze his step. Shifting his head slightly, the edge dug further, almost piercing his skin. You stood just behind him, the dagger in your hand. 

 "I may not be a shieldmaiden but I am no helpless Saxon woman." You slowly, teasingly, dragged the dagger's tip further up his neck to his pulse point. The whole time he never removed his eyes from yours over his shoulder. The tension glided across his body, shooting a shiver down his spine. He wondered if the heated look in your eyes matched his own. If he licked his lips, could he taste the ardor saturating the air between you.  

 When you spoke again, it was with a low and titillating tone. Your breath brushed against his neck, the feeling of your body almost touching his- tormenting. His hand clutched his crutch with a white-knuckle grip, his self-control slipping away with each moment. "I always have at least three daggers on me…. would you like to try and find them?"

 "I do!" Hvitserk said, raising his hand, breaking the tension. "I volunteer!"

 You winked at Hvitserk before withdrawing the dagger from Ivar's throat and taking a step back. Ivar continued to watch you as your gaze met his again. "Do not assume just because you cannot see something, does not mean it is not there. I may look like the submissive wife but that is far from the truth."

 To say he was aroused was an understatement. Spinning on his heel, he faced you, not even trying to suppress the hunger bubbling up within him. "You had my curiosity. But now you have my attention."

 "And what does that mean, 'I have your attention'? Is there a prize?" You raised an eyebrow but the devious smirk betrayed your amusement. 

 "I always reward those who…. interest me." He shifted forward to gently reach forward and caress your cheek. A sharp inhale and the fluttering of your lashes at his touch proved his effect on you. Carefully, you tipped your head, leaning your cheek against his hand. Never before had he coveted you so strongly. His instincts screamed at him to take your hand and lead you back to his tent, to make you his forever. You were a free woman though; the choice was yours. He wanted you to choose him. 

 "You are too smart for that idiot. Leave him." He muttered, tracing a finger over the seam of your lips. 

 "It's not that simple."

 "It can be."

 You pressed a kiss to the tip of his finger. "And what will I do then?"

 "You can be my woman!" Hvitserk declared, placing a hand over his heart. 

 You giggled at the harsh glare Ivar threw his brother over his shoulder. 

 "What?" Hvitserk asked in mock innocence. “You know I would share, little brother!"

 "Hvitty, say another word and I will cut your tongue out."

 The flaxen-haired prince rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Both of you need to work on your flirting. I did quite enjoy the little display you gave us, it's been far too long since someone threatened Ivar. We could make a shieldmaiden out of you yet, y/n."

 You stepped around Ivar to approach Hvitserk, much to Ivar's chagrin. He watched you give a quick peck on the cheek to his brother. Red began to color Ivar's sight, the tight grip on his crutch borderline painful.

 "I could make you very happy." Hvitserk said with a flirty wink, making you giggle. 

 The innuendo did not go over both Ivar and your heads. You smiled though, walking back towards the center of the tent. "I'm sure but I would hate to take that opportunity away from all the other women since I don't like to share."

 Ivar reached over and grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him. The sweet smile lingered on your face but now directed at him softened some of his jealous anger. He cupped the side of your face, gazing down at you in something akin to reverence and longing. Silently, you placed your hands on his chest, staring up at him. He wondered if you caused his heart to beat or it beat for you. 

 "You fascinate me." He whispered, as if scared to utter the confession. 

 A sigh escaped you as you glanced downward at your hands on him. "If only we had met in another life."

 "Leave him. He doesn't deserve you. You deserve to be worshipped and recognized. Not treated as something to be shown off."

 "Perhaps one day." You lifted your eyes to meet his once more. "But I can't yet. An alliance relies on our marriage."

 He nodded, running his tongue along his bottom lip. It made sense. That would explain how you ended up married to the foolish warrior jarl. Lifting one of your hands from his chest, he pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, wishing it was your lips instead. Without another word, he started towards the entrance to your tent. His mind needed to process what it learned and how to best utilize that information for his plan. 

 Just before opening the flap, he turned back to you, surprised to see you still standing in the same spot but now rubbing your kissed knuckles across your bottom lip. Warmth and determination welled in his chest. 

 "Will you pray to the gods for our victory?"

 A smug smile curled the corners of your mouth. "I always do, but it is not necessary for who can defeat Ivar the Boneless?"

 He could not stop the grin from spreading across his face. "And do you pray for your husband's safety?"

 "That I leave to the gods."

 With one last heated look sent your way, he ducked out of the tent and back into the sunny camp.  

 "What now?" Hvitserk asked, walking beside him.

 "I need to talk with King Harald."

 "Ivar, you can't…. that’s…."

 He stopped to round on his brother, a scowl directed at him. "She deserves better than Jarl Haakon. Do you disagree?" He spat out, his wrath directed at your husband blazing once again. 

 Hvitserk sighed. "No, but…."

 "Then it's settled." Without waiting, he started in the direction of King Harald's tent. 

 Hvitserk rushed back to his side, falling into step. "So you'll pursue her after?"

 Ivar kept silent, mind already finalizing plans on how to best dispose of your husband. The battle coming up was the perfect opportunity, as if the timing was ordained and blessed by the gods. 

 "You won't be the only one. You're not the only man to watch her."

 Ivar sneered at the thought. "They will find themselves with my axe embedded in their guts if they even try."

 "So protective of her already and she is still another man's wife." 

 Ivar turned on his brother but Hvitserk just sidestepped the dagger aimed at his chest. 

 "If it's the gods' will for her to be your wife then I will help you." His older brother stated with his hands held up in surrender. "You know this. Besides I think you found your match with her."

 "She is…." The crippled prince started but his words trailed off. How could he adequately describe how you meant to him, how he longed for you, how he knew with you by his side he would be unstoppable and maybe for once in his life, actually happy. 

 "Is that Ivar the Boneless speechless? It must be love…. or the sun is getting to your head and you're going to be sick."

 "Shut up." Ivar snapped but without malice. 

 They walked for a few more minutes in silence before Hvitserk spoke up again. 

 "It will be pleasant to not hear his irritating voice anymore in meetings. We may be able to find an earl willing to just kill him for us."

 Ivar chuckled darkly. His thoughts returned to you and how he would willingly do anything to make you his wife. You were his Valkyrie, his goddess, you would complete him. Soon you would at his side, come death or Ragnarök, he would fight for you. 

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ivar the boneless #ivars heathen army #ivar x reader #hvitserk #harald finehair #youbloodymadgenuis1kcelebration #ivar lothbrok #vikings imagine #mzwrites

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Naranja

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Word Count: 1365

Warnings: None, just FLUFF.

Summary: The discovery of a certain fruit leads to another discovery that Ivar wasn’t prepared for.

Beautiful mood board made by the amazing @flowers-in-your-hayr​ 

This was written for the equally amazing @youbloodymadgenius​‘s 1k challenge! Thank you for allowing me to participate and congrats again! I haven’t been in the writing spirit due to lack of inspiration and confidence, but writing this helped with my writers block, so thank you!! 

Shout out to my beta reader @shannygoatgruff​ 

Prompt is in bold. As always, I tagged those who might be interested. Hope ya’ll like it!

...

King Ivar usually slept on his stomach. The position made it far simpler to reach for the weapon he slept upon should the occasion call for its use.  

  His eyes shot open when the bed shifts, his hand immediately burrowing under his pillow to retrieve his trusty dagger. But, there was no danger afoot. No, just his wife giggling to herself in the early hours of dawn, eating from a clay bowl in her lap. 

  “My love,” Ivar groggily whispers over to her, lazily shaking his messy hair from his eyes. “Is there a particular reason for...whatever it is you’re doing? It is barely dawn.” He observed her curiously, releasing his hold from the hilt of his dagger and draping his arm over her abdomen instead.  

  “Naranja.” She brings her sparkling gaze to meet his tired one, uttering the foreign word that, to Ivar, had no meaning. 

  “Hmm?” 

  “Naranja!” She repeats the word again, producing from the clay bowl a sweetly fragrant...something. 

  “Well,” Ivar eyes it wearily, “What is it?”  

  “Can you not see that it is a fruit?” She brings the object closer to his line of vision, and he found himself closing his eyes as soon as the scent of it dominated his senses. It smelled wonderful. “The merchant trades it from Al-Andalus. The Saxons call it orange.” Ivar always did have a softness for her childlike enthusiasm, and over a fruit no less. And so, he indulges her. He lifts himself to his elbows to inspect the object further despite his overwhelming desire to fall into slumber again.

  “Is it eaten like an apple?” He brings his finger to scratch a nail over the fruit's surface, surprised at the strange texture and momentarily horrified at the thought of having to take a bite of something so rough to the touch. 

  “Let me show you.” Putting the bowl between them, she began to peel at the thick skin, revealing the soft guts that she claimed were good to eat. Her fingers worked to split the pieces apart, gently placing one on his bottom lip.  

  “Here.” She offers. Ivar spread his lips obediently, his teeth tearing at the foreign fruit. The juices burst in his mouth and his eyes grow round at the citrus flavor coating his tongue. He stopped chewing for a moment, his drowsiness disappearing as he gazed at his wife in pure delight. The taste was something he had never encountered before. It was bitter, yet somehow sweet.  

  Ivar reached over to snatch another piece of the delicious fruit from her palm, licking his lips free of the sweet juice, but she quickly moved her hand back and away from his eagerness. 

  “I am hungry, and they are mine.” 

  “How is it that suddenly, you are always hungry?” Ivar mutters, maneuvering himself to sit upright, “And at odd hours of the day. I fear the kitchens will be empty come winter.” That earned him a weak blow to the nape considering he married a shieldmaiden and a strong one at that. How could he have known she was saving her strength for more strenuous activities that would happen in nine months’ time? 

  “Well, with that kind of talk, I suppose I have no reason to disclose any news to you.” That familiar stubborn tone of hers was rearing its head, just as it did when they were children, and Ivar refused with all his might to play games with her. That refusal had not lasted long now that they played other games. 

  “What? What news?” He demanded, wrestling for another piece of fruit only for her to shove the rest of the pieces into her mouth in retaliation. 

  “Mm–news that perhaps should wait—Hey!” Ivar successfully snatches another naranja from the bowl she failed to hide, giving his back to her like a little mouse feeding off cheese as he clumsily began peeling the tough skin.  

  “Ivar!” She throws her arms over his shoulders in a fit of giggles, unsuccessful in her endeavor to snatch the fruit away from him. 

  “I will only eat half!” He promises. 

  “But that is the last one! 

  “Then I will buy you more, woman!” 

  “The merchant only has a limited supply, and I am sure that Hvitserk has purchased the last of them, the hungry fool!”  

  “Then I suppose you shall have to wait for the merchant to come back next year.” 

  “But I am eating for two!” They both pause simultaneously as soon as she said those words. Ivar turns to face her again, a barely peeled naranja in his weak grip. His eyes were bigger than the moon, just as they were the first time he had seen her nakedness in their adolescence.  

  “What?” He asked stupidly, placing the fruit down to slowly move closer to her. She plops back down on the bed, biting her lip with eyes turned away. “What did you say?” His tone drops to something sickly sweet, so unlike him in the face of the rest of the world, but very much in character with how he treats his beloved wife and queen.  

  “Nothing.” She says quickly, the half-peeled fruit they were both fighting over now forgotten. 

  “I must admit, you had my curiosity,” Ivar points at the fruit laying between the sheets as if speaking to it directly before turning to address his wife, “But now you have my attention. Go on, please.”  

  “I... wanted to be certain.” She breaks into a shy smile, playing with the ends of her braided hair as she always did when nervous, “And I did not want to disappoint you if it were untrue.”  

  “So, you mean to say…” Ivar trails off, the blue of his irises shifting into brilliant tones as their chambers slowly lit up with the rising sun. The corners of his mouth twitch as if fighting away a smile. She nods, her lips stretching into an infectious grin that Ivar found himself reciprocating. 

  “In a few months, there will be three of us fighting in bed over fruit.” She confesses, squealing in glee as Ivar moved the naranja aside and tackled her down onto the warm furs, peppering sweet, sticky kisses over her face in his joy. 

 “Are you happy?” She asks over his plush lips, already knowing the answer. 

  “How can I not be?” With one final kiss, Ivar falls on his back, bringing her to his side in one quick swoop of his toned arm. His other hand reaches for the fruit that he was somehow still conscious of. He takes it and gives it one last look of longing before relinquishing it to his wife. “Here. You deserve it more than I do.” Without missing a beat, she snatches it from him with quick fingers, removing the rest of the protective skin and ripping off the slices one by one before popping them in her mouth as if she had not eaten in days. Once she licked her fingers clean, she shifted enough to gaze at Ivar, finding that he was already watching her with clear amusement.  

  “My love?” And then there was that other tone, the sweet one she uses when whispering in his ear as they make love right before a battle. 

  “Hmm?”  

  “I lied.” His brow wrinkled and his eyes narrowed just a bit, his mind already racing at the thought of her lying about a child. 

  “Wh–” 

  “The naranjas. There are many more in the kitchens,” She smiles, a giggle bubbling up in her chest as soon as Ivar’s signature pout blooms, “The temptation to see you in such a state over a fruit! Not in the years that I have known you have you reacted so passionately!” 

  “Has my growing child caused you to forget how passionate I am for you? I should hope not.” He grumbles, bringing her flush to his bare chest and closing his eyes for another hour of well-deserved sleep before his demanding day as king would begin.  

  When dusk had spread its wings over Kattegat, and their meal was being laid out, the king's wife stifles a laugh behind decorated fingers when she hears her husband in the kitchens demanding naranjas for supper. 

...

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