The Seawolf, self proclaimed lo-fi hip hop/Nordic folk artist, has just released a new video, Ylgr, as an appetizer to the forthcoming album Niflheim.
The Seawolf, self proclaimed lo-fi hip hop/Nordic folk artist, has just released a new video, Ylgr, as an appetizer to the forthcoming album Niflheim.
❂ VIKINGS rewatch – 4/∞
🖤The Raven 🖤 pic made by me :)
favorite vikings character meme ↳ five scenes [4/5]
Danke für das tolle Foto!
Werkstatt Ruyan - das ist Manufaktur und Spitzenqualität. Dies ist eine große Anzahl von Kunden auf der ganzen Welt. Die Wärme unserer Herzen ist in jedem Schmuck
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series based on Lady Lazarus, a poem by Sylvia Plath.
chapter five / catch up here
synopsis: he left you for dead, and now you’re back.
author’s note: the one small detail the reader has, is that she is a red head.
specific chapter content warning(s): mentions of blood, suicide, and sexual content below the cut. yes I have fucked up the entire timeline and characterization, but I have no shame. (however, if you do want to talk about someone who fucked up, let’s discuss the absolute shit ending Hirst gave these characters!) is my love for floki obvious yet? don’t answer that. also, before I go: Ivar has a breeding / pregnancy kink, pass it on.
pairing: Ivar x Reader
“Why do you have a child?” Ivar’s voice beckons to you from where you have positioned yourself along the rug, the small eyes watching you back as she lifts her head.
“I told her mother I would watch her so she could bathe in peace,” You reply as you hear Ivar clicks his tongue in distaste.
“She is a spoiled one,” Ivar laughs.
“She is small, Ivar,” You reply softly.
“Do not gift yourself any thoughts about children, Y/N,” Ivar warns suddenly. “They are small, yes, and they are helpless,” He says from his spot, the pulp of an apple crushing between his jaw as the sound alerts the small one to raise her head again.
“They are helpless because they need teachers,” You sigh, rolling yourself along the rug to adequately stand, leveling the child along your hip. Ivar’s eyes are stuck on how the infant grabs at your hair, tracing her tiny hands along your covered breasts and you know that she much be feeling hungered. She lets out a small squawk which you are quick to quiet before turning away from Ivar.
“Where are you headed?” He asks, turning his head to the side as you give him another look over your shoulder.
“To return her,” Is all you say.
“Come back to me when you are finished, we have things to discuss,” Ivar hums, wiping the drip of the juice from the apple off his chin.
You wanted to spare yourself the words Ivar had undoubtedly set up for you, strolling through the village to occupy your time instead. You know he is counting the moments before you return but that remains of petty interest in your mind. There is far more Kattegat has for offerings now that you are not hidden in a cart to recover from your injuries. You catch sight of an axe’s curve sharpening, the slice through the air calls you and you notice Ivar’s head as you search the shop’s perimeter. As he catches you in his sight, there’s a sliver of a smirk across his mouth as he waves his hand, the few patrons of the spot vacating and closing the one door behind them.
“You wished to speak?”
“Come closer,” Ivar demands, softer than the tone you know him to hold. Following suit you step closer to where he sits, still pulling the axe along the plate as it sharpens. “Closer,” He says again but you are now touching his feet where they are hidden, your kneecaps kissing along his. “Closer,” He says once more without looking up at you but you lack the space to move any more to his liking. Until you take the axe from his grip and maneuver it away, and replace how he held the handle with how his hands quickly latch to your hips. You find yourself over his lap once more, groping hands taking the collections of cloth around your ass to squeeze, tracing your hips and quickly grabbing your breast. “You have put images in my head,” Ivar tells you. “Images of carrying my child,” No sooner do the words leave his mouth than do the flutterings in your lower half take your notice.
“No, Ivar,” You say, trying to reel his mind back to what is important.
“Why must you deny me?” Ivar asks, still stroking skilled fingers over your dress as his eyes finally catch yours. “What has changed so much now that you no longer wish to carry my children? That was what you wanted not long ago. Do you remember how we would talk of it? How we dreamt of names, imagined whom they must take after—and I spoke of how I wished for a child with hair like yours. You would never let me fill you, but you did when you showed up on the raid. How did you end up there, Y/N?” Ivar’s speech unlocks the hidden memories that you tried for too long to bury; the fumblings in the grass where you would make love with him but you would always ask for him not to fill you—not ready to carry his child when you could hardly carry yourself. How one afternoon he caught himself too late, staying within and you suddenly could not understand why you were so fearful of the aftermath. How when your monthly blood came not far after and those dreams left as you washed yourself.
“Show me how you act around a child, Ivar, and perhaps I will reconsider,” You whisper, challenging his gaze and how he watches you, licking his lips.
“You did not answer my question,” Ivar replies in a husked hiss.
“I never went far Ivar,” You say with a small smile. “I fought alongside you, as one of your men, I just stayed hidden too well behind the armor,” His lips are rushed against yours, hungered as his tongue wastes not a breath before it’s sliding with yours. His hands never cease, they want to rip the fabric from you but he favors this dress too much to do so. Moving your hips for you against him, how he grows behind his own clothes as you rub. Ivar’s mouth breaks away from yours as you roll yourself still, groaning and you suddenly light the fire in your own belly to make him whimper your name, not showing him mercy until he’s released inside of his own clothes. Despite Ivar trying to push you in his favor, pin you from how you’re moving so he can have you how he wishes, his moments of struggle do not last long when you latch his hands against your covered chest, making quick work to spill you breasts so he can grab them. Ivar comes undone far too soon for your liking, rubbing him as there is moisture against you, his eyes screwed tightly shut as his mouth is open under the luxury of his quick release. You put your mouth on his to catch his breathing, how he moans in ecstasy and shock at what you did.
“You are a heathen,” Ivar quickly whispers, your own arousal peeked as his voice rasps against your mouth. “You are a heathen and you are mine,” His hands grab tightly now against your chest as your moan echoes back into his throat, his mouth sliding down your jaw. “You are a heathen and now you have a mess to clean up, woman,”
Your arrowheads heat nicely, bend quickly, and sharpens the best they have yet, your work ends as rain opens through the skies and your name is called from down the path. You know it is not Ivar’s tone who attracts you, the mysterious voice looming a noise to tickle your hair. Floki was a man you remember to have been gifted Ivar’s attachment, how Ivar looked up to the man so highly, replacing him to become someone who he would consider his own elder, even when he wasn’t. Your hatred for those who killed Aslaug boiled between both of you, you wondered what took Ivar so long to seek revenge even though you were the one who pulled the final arrow.
“The Gods told me of your return,” Floki sings when you see him, the laughter ringing to you as you dwell upon the silliness this man was known to hold. “How have you been holding yourself since? Do you still not feel well?” Floki asks, pointing to his head. “Not well up here?” You can’t stop the nod that shakes your own cranium. “While our minds are beautiful tools, they are also evil weapons,” He tells you. “Come and speak what is on your mind to Floki,”
Your mouth seals itself too quickly before you can start a speech to the man. In true honesty, you don’t quite know how to articulate the pain that churns deep inside of you. He stands, tends to a meal over the flame before he returns a cup of mead in your grip. You down it suddenly and he laughs at that, refilling it once more but still the words do not sit upon their perch. You’d dream to take your dagger to your lips and pull them apart so the words can fly freely if that meant they would spare you the sickness they have locked in your heart.
“I do not know where to begin—or where the words even begin,” You admit.
“You have always carried a sadness inside of you, the red haired beauty you are, but you have always let the sadness take more of you than it should have. It is because you failed in that jump? Because you could not quiet the evil voices and now they have one more thing to hang above you and taunt you with?” Floki asks. How the man knew what was tangled through your unspoken speech would always amaze you. “You are a strong warrior, a strong woman, show them,” He says when you drown the next few gulps of mead.
“It is different now,” You find yourself speaking. “I remember who I was, but she is locked somewhere and I do not know if I want to let her back out. I have done evil things Floki, thinking it would heal me and it only makes the thirst stronger,” Floki only studies you as you speak.
“You have that need to kill, to seek revenge for something that you could not control. You covet the lives of others so you take them away with your own hands. You make our Gods proud in doing so, but you do not find the answers any clearer,” He tells you, the curve of his blade over a piece of wood as he carves. “Darkness changes people, red haired beauty, but you are not stuck in darkness anymore, you are just simply stuck—scourge the world as you dream and show everyone how strong you have become,” He sings, raising a brow to you as the carving draws a bit more character.
“You are quick with your hands, Floki, and quick with your words. I envy that about you,” You tell him as he laughs once more. “I do not know what I want right now, Floki. If I want to be the strong woman or if I want to go back to being who I was, deeply in love and hoping for a life with Ivar,” You sigh, setting the container along the table.
“Who tells you that you can not have both?” Floki asks, a sideways cocked head as he sets the figure on the table. It is a quickly sliced crescent moon, peeled smoothly and soft as you hold it. “You remind me of the moonlight; you are beautiful but not always there, but even when you are hidden you remain. In shadows. If the moon smiled, she would look like you,” Floki says through his own grin. “Wolves howl at the moon in tribute; make your people howl at you,”
“Where do the Gods speak to you?” You ask with a laugh. “Where does it come from, and how do you get it so quickly?” Floki laughs along with you as you hold the piece tightly in fondness. “Can I keep this?”
“I would be gravely hurt if you did not. Here—” He says with an open hand before you set it along the rough palm, before he carves a quick socket to poke through. “I will find you some string, sit here,” He speaks when he raises quickly, searching about the room for lone pieces of material he seems to enjoy collecting more so than he does enjoy using. The charm is placed on the string before he is behind you, tying it. “You think it may be safer not to feel, but you are wrong,” Floki whispers as his lips graze your temple. “Go home to where Ivar is, and make him howl at you too,”
Ivar is asleep when you sneak back to his quarters, across the mat in twist, ties legs to the side as he rests in a curve the sits more humorous than it does uncomfortable. Watching him for a moment, how his eyes still dance despite being covered by his lids, how his chest rises slowly though breathing. The beauty he has now, more grown, sings adornment through heart; markings on his face that remind you of the younger man you knew, with shorter locks and gravely blunt humor that always halted you before it made you laugh. He was still the Ivar you knew, he was just hiding it like you had been. You walk to his side quickly, moving his legs gently to straighten but that still wakes him with a quick gasp, lids flying apart to catch you.
“You would wake sore if you rested like that,” You tell him. “I was only trying to make you comfortable,” His eyes watch you as you speak to him, rounding the furs to cover him once more as you tuck them. His hand reaches out for yours and you place it along his, a small brushing of his lips along the back of it as you smile. You climb around him quickly, flopping your frame across the vacant spot as his slight laugh warms through you.
“Where is this from?” He asks when his hands stroke the small pendant you wear.
“Floki,” You reply. “He and I spoke for a long time,”
“Floki is a good man,” Ivar says, laying next to you. “He knows too much for his own good, I do think,”
“I think you do too, Ivar,” You reply. “I think you let hatred take the place of love,”
“I do not, I hold few things with me that I love, hatred will never take their place,”
“What do you love?” You ask him gently, rising to your elbow, but there is an abrupt silence before a cracks the smallest detection of a smile.
“I love my mother, and the thought of her peace in Valhalla,” Ivar starts. “I love when it rains at night, when it darkens the sky but still there is a small sliver of the moon. I love the chaos of the battlefield, how it is so sporadic but it still calms me,” He adds, speaking up towards the ceiling. “I love the Gods, and their path for me,” He head turns back to look at you, lips still curved in the same smile. “I love you,”
“Even after that jump?” You whisper.
“Even after that jump,” He responds as his eyes catch yours. “Before it as well. I dreamt of our future, our rule,” Ivar adds. “I dreamt of us,”
“Do you still?”
“Yes,” Ivar answers in a quick sudden way, furrowed brows considering that perhaps he is the only one of the pair that still dreams of a future with you. “Do you not?”
“I dream of dark things now, Ivar. Perhaps it is the way of the Gods, for my pitiful effort to end my own suffering, but there has not been pleasantry on my mind for some time,” You admit. “I worry I may never have those sweet dreams again,” Ivar’s hand catches your cheek as you sigh, the somber look you wear so well there once more as it angers him more than it makes him want to match. As Ivar pulls you closer, your body suddenly oozes like sand in at his touch, molding along how he lays so he can have you against him. Broad chest to lay on with arms that lock behind you as a shield, keeping the slivers of evil spoken words where they belong in the darkness of the room. You feel his lips brush along your hairline and you want to allow it—his openness with you—you want to relish in it, dance along the feelings but you fear that once you do they may slip away once more. Ivar’s hand trail across the plains of your back, slowly loosening the tunic as he goes, your breathing picking up as his hands cup along the roundness of your ass, taking his time as he pulls you to part before sliding his hands back where they began. How he has his ways to make you feel such pleasure with simple touches, you will never know. How the young man who was almost frightened to touch you like that for the first time has long since faded. Showing him where his fingers should stroke, showing him how to make your body respond for his, watching how his eyes darkened as you grew wet, the noises he pulled from your lips, the sounds of his fingers in your cunt, matching with what grew to consume him the first time Ivar ever entered you. The pleasure that bloomed where you two had connected, studying you while cashing his own release, slipping out in the last moment not to lose your tightness and warmth. Painting your skin with his seed as he trailed his own hands through it to feed you. The mess you two were when you always rejoined whom still littered the field and how obvious it must have been written on your faces. In brush, on stumps and behind fallen logs. Sneaking into his home and trying to stay as quiet as you two could.
As you relish in the thoughts of the past, Ivar’s hands grace your chest, the tunic long since discarded as he lays you back, hovering sideways to catch your skin sparkle by the light of the fire. Ducking his head down, his lips curl around your breast, pulling at the skin as you let a hiss rush from your mouth at the way his canine fangs nip at you. Pulling your nipple to bud and you can’t stop the way your hands need him. Rolling the seams of his garments down, raking your nails along the inked drawings his now carries, feeling how hard he has gone just by his tongue exploring your chest. Your legs spread farther, letting him settle between them but he makes no haste to have you in such a way, still bringing his tongue to cover you, licking you like a meal before his lips have found your neck. You can feel how he smirks against your throat when you gasp, melting it into a moan when they latch at the spots under your ear, how easily he recalls what places to go to make you a mess beneath him. Ivar hisses as your nails pierce the skin of his back, dragging lines over the muscles as his hands grab your thighs to still you. His eyes set on yours when his prick is just out past your entrance, his chest heaving, eyes dark alike as he never falters his gaze as he starts to push in. You watch his breathing quicken as he sinks down, his lips separating as his hip bones rest with yours. You look away only as your eyes close, dropping your head to fall back along the bed with a sweet moan that jabs right to Ivar’s crotch. With a slow roll of his hips your mouth opens to sing another note of pleasure before your hands start their endless search to grab it him, pulling him to come as close as he can while he still thrusts. It does not take long for the tightness you hold him with to thicken, for the growls to drool from his mouth as he reaches closer to his peak, maneuvering to his forearms as he watches your chest bounce as he moves harder still. Your body latches along his finally when your orgasm grabs at you, eyes on Ivar as his mouth opens at the sight of you coming around his cock, the slowing of his own movements to simply savor how your appear like a Goddess before him.
“Fill me,” You whispers as your hands crawl to hold his scalp. “Please Ivar, fill me,” You beg softly and he can only manage a nod as his own release trickles from the backs of his thighs, nipping his tail bone as a rush of sharp snaps of his hips crash with yours, the final one causing a long groan as he releases inside of you. Lids still plastered shut as his arms shake, his back tensing and you can see the small pulses of the after waves course over his whole body as you pull him to lay over you. You’re not bothered by the heaviness he reigns over you, the large warrior he’s become as your wrap around him as much as your able while he holds you alike.
“Please never leave me,” Ivar whispers suddenly along the shell of your ear, a voice far too soft for him that registers as pained in your hearing. “I was so lost; please never leave like that again,” Ivar begs. You don’t have the words at the ready to reply, moving his head for him to graze your lips on his is the only way you find yourself answering. His mouth heavy on yours as his salvia comes to rest on your tongue, pleasured pain of how he's still inside of you making your hips roll on their own accord as he growls against you. Finally he pulls himself from your walls, hovering over you as you feel his seed drip from your core, you catch sight of him observing how it flows before he takes his fingers to drag through, pushing it back into its home as he pulls them out once more and pushes them against your tongue.
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we have historical evidence of vikings wearing silks and sequins so someone please explain to me why every tv show and movie about vikings or viking inspired fantasy cultures, puts them in grey and brown leather rags and greases up their hair like they haven’t bathed in weeks
Modern Ivar x Reader
Summary - Ivar is part of the Viking Mafia and reader is the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy Kattegat aristocratic family. She was sent abroad to study for many years and finally returns to find out her grandfather still does not want her to be part of the family. That is, until he realizes she may be of use to him. This is based on an anon request
It took me a while to write the last few parts of this story because I felt like I lost my way and I wasn’t sure how to wrap it up. I wanted to bring it to an end rather than drag it out until it got too silly (or maybe it’s that way anyway) so I hope it doesn’t seem brought to a close too soon. It was time for new stories though! I don’t think I write thriller / action / crime stuff very well at all so please forgive me. This whole fic has been a bit out of my comfort zone. Hope you enjoy it anyway. This is also the final chapter. Thank you for sticking with it and for your comments 😊
Warnings - language, family conflict, mentions of organised crime, death, murder, suggestions of smut but nothing much happens.
Words - 3700 approx.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
Art by @peachyboneless - I’m using it for the last time so once again, thank you so much. You’re the best 😘
Dinner was lively with everyone chatting happily and comfortably in one another’s presence as if you’d all been getting together for years. Ivar was sitting across the table and his eyes barely left yours all night.
You found out that it was Floki who repaired the relationship between father and son when Ivar initially returned to Kattegat although you still weren’t clear on the details of how it all played out. There seemed a few things that weren’t being said but the inner workings of the Viking Mafia was none of your business.
Ragnar explained that he lost interest in trying to kill you once he found out the full extent of what was going on and understood you really weren’t after him in the first place. You nodded politely but didn’t really buy it. How could someone like him, the head of the most powerful crime family in Scandinavia just….forgive and forget?
It didn’t make sense.
Ivar and Ragnar also filled you in on Oleg’s whereabouts which turned out to be some heavily guarded compound in Siberia and nothing had been heard from or about Aslaug in well over a year. Since your family was arrested apparently.
Father and son both believed she was dead, most likely murdered by Oleg or one of his thugs. You watched Ivar closely when talk turned to his mother and saw the pain in his eyes. He must miss her but you couldn’t say the same for Ragnar.
There was something that still didn’t add up. Not so much what went on between the family members although that was weird too but something else was off. Definitely a piece of the puzzle was missing.
You thought it might be wise to check in with Alfred again just to bounce some ideas around and see if he had any valuable insight. No doubt he’d think you a fool for having the men in your home but it wasn’t like it was your grand scheme to begin with.
You’d have to gloss over the part where, instead of insisting they leave, you practically fucked Ivar on the table you were now eating at.
The moment the meal was done and plates were cleared, your mother and Ragnar were on their feet and mumbling excuses to disappear. Ivar returned serve on his father’s earlier comments about the two of you pretending like you hadn’t been up to something and light heartedly chided them on their urgency to run off to the bedroom.
His father gave him the finger as a final move before walking out of the room which made you both laugh. Then it was just the two of you, sitting quietly across from one another not knowing quite what to do or say.
You had an attack of shyness. You wanted to dive over the dining table and continue what began earlier, with the exception of the part where you thought Ivar was trying to strangle you but something kept you frozen in place.
Disorientation was an appropriate way to describe your current state and it’s fair to say it was rather unsettling. You tried to analyse every tiny detail hoping to discover something previously overlooked.
Your heart wanted to trust him but your training gave you reason to pause and evaluate. The problem was, you couldn’t come up with answers and it scared you.
“Are we going to sit here staring at one another all night?” Ivar’s voice broke through your thoughts.
“No.” You responded. “Unless you want to.”
“Ah no, I’d much rather follow my father’s lead.” He gave you one of those sexy smiles you’d grown to adore and didn’t realise until that moment how much you missed.
“And have sex with my mother?” You knew what he meant but you couldn’t resist the joke.
“No!” He shouted, seemingly embarrassed by the faux pas. “I would never…”
“I’m messing with you Ivar I know what you mean.”
“Your mother is hot though….”
You held up your hand to stop him talking.
“Don’t ruin it.” You smirked.
He grinned and chuckled softly before grabbing his crutch and slowly rising to his feet. He made his way over to your side and leaned forward, offering you his elbow.
“Shall we?” He asked.
There was no denying you were excited. Confused yes, but also excited. You stood and linked your arm with his.
After a few steps he stopped.
“I just remembered this isn’t my house.” He stated. “I’ve also never been here before so I don’t know where I’m going.”
“I guess I better take the lead then.” You replied.
“You know I like it when you do.” He quipped.
“Ha!” You puffed out. “You can’t help yourself can you?”
“I aim to please.”
There was that damn smile again. When he was happy, it reached all the way to his eyes and those baby blues sparkled like sunlight bouncing off the ocean. Sparkling ocean eyes, the perfect description for a blissful Ivar.
Not that you’d seen it very much with all that had transpired both between and around you but there were moments of joy especially in the beginning when you first met. Part of you longed for that time because it was just you and him before all the hurt and duplicity nearly destroyed your affections.
Which is why where you found yourself now, arm in arm and leading him to the bedroom, was nothing short of astonishing. If future you had told present day you this would happen, you would have considered the idea so ridiculous.
So with that in mind, you kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. What’s the punchline here? Maybe the thing you were missing is that the joke was on you. Ivar was getting the ultimate revenge aided by your unsuspecting mother.
After all, you and he hadn’t slept together yet. Maybe he was tryna ‘hit it and quit it’. Ugh, the mere thought of it made you groan. Not that you had a problem with casual sex but you had a problem with people who weren’t honest about what they wanted.
Perhaps hypocritical coming from you but in your mind, you’d separated work you from the real you. The deception you entered into when you first met Ivar was a necessary part of the job and if he couldn’t let it go, there was nothing salvageable about the relationship.
Relationship….that was laughable. There was no relationship. Until you had reason to believe otherwise, Ivar was nothing more than somebody from the past.
When you got to the bedroom, he immediately closed the door.
“Is this the part where you kill me?” You asked.
“Kill you with kindness baby.” He winked.
“Oh god that’s so cringey.” You rolled your eyes.
He pulled you into his arms and trailed kisses up your neck.
“Do you really hate me that much?” He moved to meet your gaze.
“When did I ever say that I hated you?” You took a step backwards but he wouldn’t let go.
“I don’t know.” He confessed. “Maybe it wasn’t in so many words but I felt a vibe.”
“A vibe” You repeated.
“Yeah, a vibe.”
“What does hmm mean?” He wanted to know.
“The same as a vibe.” You countered.
“Smart ass.” He scoffed.
Well, this seemed okay. Friendly banter was surely a good sign but a sign of what? You sighed as he pulled you closer for a hug. It felt amazing you weren’t going to deny the sensations his presence and warmth stirred in you.
There were so many unanswered questions though.
Ivar led you over to the bed and sat down. He guided you to stand between his legs and peered up with such a soft look on his face. It melted your suspicious heart.
The sweet moment gave way to a heated one as he lunged forward and playfully nipped at each breast.
“Mmm…” He licked his lips as he moved back.
That familiar throb between your legs made you tip your head back and inhale sharply. He did it again and then reached up and flicked the thin straps of the dress off your shoulders one by one.
He glanced up at you seductively as he chewed on his bottom lip but the look in his eyes made it seem like he was truly seeing you for the first time. You saw love reflected back and it was beautiful, just like him.
You needed to keep your head straight though and not fall into the trap of romanticising what was going on. There was still a chance you were being hoodwinked.
The moment the thought popped into your head you involuntarily flinched.
“What is it?” His face was full of concern.
You seized the chance to move out of his arms and sat on the bed beside him. You grabbed his hand, threading your fingers through his so there was still some sense of physical closeness. You discreetly squeezed your thighs together as the ache for his touch grew stronger.
“I can’t go any further until I know what is going on.” You stated firmly.
“Here? Now?” He asked for clarification.
“Yes but also with the past.” You explained. “Why you left and why you’re here now.”
He took a deep breath and it was pretty obvious he wasn’t interested in discussing it.
“Why what?” You asked.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because I think I deserve an explanation.” You tried to stay calm but it wasn’t easy.
He sighed that time.
“Ivar, you left me in the middle of the night.”
Your comment was met with silence for the longest time and had you wondering if he was ever going to speak again. But he did, finally.
“I know.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Nothing further was forthcoming so you had no option but to prompt him.
“Ivar? Are you going to say anything more?”
“More than one word responses please.”
Another sigh. It was getting painful but not the heart hurting kind, the ‘this is fucking irritating’ kind. You were determined to get it out of him, even if it took all night.
“I left the safe house because you deserved better than me.” He began. “You were about to throw your career away, potentially for me and what did I have to offer?”
Your mouth fell open in shock.
“Nothing, I could offer you nothing more than a life on the run.” He finished.
“I wasn’t leaving my job behind solely because of you and even if it was, it was my choice to make.”
“But you would’ve resented me for…”
“Wait” You held up your hands to stop him. “As I was saying, it wasn’t all because of you. I won’t deny that was a part of it but I had become disillusioned with the agency and I decided it wasn’t the life I wanted.”
His mouth was set in a firm line. Regret? Or was he trying to stop himself saying something?
“Why didn’t you talk to me about how you were feeling instead of running away?” You asked.
“You would’ve convinced me to stay and I’d already convinced me that I knew was I was doing.”
“You made the wrong choice.” You replied bluntly.
“You don’t know that.” He challenged you. “Maybe we needed time apart for things to settle down.”
Fair point, you didn’t know but then neither did he. No one could say exactly how the future might’ve turned out if either one of you had chosen a different path.
“How did they settle down by the way?” You questioned.
“How did what settle down?”
“Your relationship with your father for one.” You responded. “Last I knew he wanted to kill you.”
“I thought he did too and I also thought I’d never escape him which is another reason why I left. If it was going to happen then I wanted to face it head on. I couldn’t handle the stress anymore.”
“I guess I understand that.” You said quietly.
“But, then I…..” He stopped.
He dropped his head and closed his eyes.
“Ivar, you what?” You prompted.
“I-I…found out some more information.”
The silence was deafening, yet again.
“Seriously Ivar, speak!”
“You can’t repeat this to anyone.” He turned slightly to look at you and grabbed your other hand so he was now holding both.
“Promise me!” He said firmly and squeezed your hands.
“Alright, alright….I promise.”
“When I left you the agents took me to the airport.” He started the long story. “I sat there for hours and hours wondering whether I was making the right decision but also trying to decide where to go. Eventually I thought, fuck it, and bought a ticket back to Kattegat as I’d originally planned.”
“Well, that was ballsy I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks.” He said, offering a half smile. “When I arrived, I went straight to Floki’s house and said to him if you’re going to kill me just get it over with.”
“Then what happened?”
“He pulled me inside and called me a whole heap of names, most of them highlighting how stupid he thought I was and then he called my father.”
“That must’ve had you in a panic.”
“It did.” His eyes widened. “Until he got there and came straight up to me to give me a big hug.”
“I know, shocking isn’t it?” Ivar sounded as if he still couldn’t believe it, even now.
“I’ll say.” You agreed. “Then what happened?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, then he told me some things that blew my mind.”
“And I promise you I did not know any of it before that moment.” He added.
“Okay, I believe you.” You reassured him.
“Ragnar and Floki work with the agency.”
“Agency? As in my ex-employer?” You could help raising your voice in shock.
“No one will hear us” You dismissed him.
“I don’t know who might be lurking outside.” He pointed to the closed bedroom door.
“Paranoid much?” You jested.
“Did you hear what I just said? My father and his business partner WORK WITH the agency.”
“Yes, yes I heard you.” You replied irritatingly. “Continue.”
“Hold on,” You said before he could speak again. “What do you mean work with? Are they informants?”
“I don’t know if that’s the way they’d describe it but yeah I guess.” He confirmed.
“For how long?”
“Way before you were there. In fact it was their suggestion to recruit you in the first place.”
This was all so preposterous you could hardly believe it.
“Not buying it Ivar. If you are not interested in me then be a man and admit it but don’t carry on with all this bullshit just so you can set up an excuse to ghost me later.”
“I’m not making this up!” He seemed offended. “Every word is true. Call Mr Barista if you don’t believe me.”
“His name is Alfred.” You said flatly.
“Of course I know his name.” Ivar snapped. “And you know perfectly well I first met him in the stupid café you were all using as a cover story.”
“Fine, keep going.” You pulled your hand free and flicked it at him.
“So as I was saying, they’ve been working with the agency for some time in exchange for being umm, somewhat left alone.”
“To do their shady business stuff?”
“To do their shady business stuff, yeah.” He confirmed. “Of which there isn’t really that much despite so many people’s opinions of who and what my father is or does.”
“Really?” You said doubtfully.
“I’ll get him to prove it.”
“Won’t be necessary.” You replied dryly.
“Apparently the whole Oleg thing has been known about for years and by the time you joined the operation it was coming to a close. They just needed a way into your family.”
“So I was basically used.”
The anger started building inside you. All that time you thought you were embarking on this brilliant career where you could make a difference but in reality you were nothing more than a means to an end.
“Please don’t shoot the messenger.” He stuck out his bottom lip. “Don’t be upset with me.”
“Put that thing away.” You poked his mouth.
“Not until you promise you’re not mad.”
“I’m not mad. I believe you didn’t know and it’s not your fault.”
“Happy with that.” He nodded.
“Oh and by the way, my mother is alive and living in witness protection.”
It was just bombshell after bombshell. Looks like the script had been well and truly flipped because in the beginning it was you doing this to him. Now you knew what it felt like!
“The story over dinner was a lie?”
“Yes it was.” He stated. “The agency apprehended her soon after Oleg fled and she agreed to cooperate in exchange for her safety. She also confessed to the affair with your uncle and she and my father have gone their separate ways.”
“Are they divorcing?”
Not that it really mattered nor were you preempting anything but you knew your mother and you knew she’d fall hard for Ragnar. If whatever they were up to down the hall was the start of something then she would be caught hook, line and sinker.
“It’s complicated. Officially she’s missing presumed dead but that’s only to satisfy Oleg’s crew. Legally, I don’t know the finer details in terms of divorce when someone is technically missing rather than deceased.”
“Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” You weren’t inclined to explain right at the minute. Not really the time for it.
“Umm where was I up to? Oh that’s right….so it turns out my father didn’t want to murder me and everything that happened at the cabin and all the rest of it was basically all for show.”
“All for show?” You replied incredulously. “My fingernails and ribs beg to differ.”
“Oh, I forgot about that.” He said sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You offered a small smile. “So what now? We all apparently live happily ever after?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Just like that, it’s all over…” You clicked your fingers.
“Does it need to be full of any more twists and turns?” He countered. “Haven’t we had enough?”
“Y/N, I don’t know what the future holds, for any of us, but I really want you and me to give things a go.”
“Love, dating, relationships.” He answered.
“You said that in a weird order.”
“I wasn’t giving you a timeline, just random thoughts.” He explained. “By the way, so what if I use the word love.”
“That bothers you?”
“Lot of labels.”
“You’re so precious James Bond.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Don’t like that either.”
“Girl who is a friend or girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend umm, MY girlfriend, umm specifically.”
“I’ll have to think about that.”
“Really?” He looked deflated.
“It’s just that….” You began.
“What? What’s wrong?” He looked flustered.
“If your father and my mother start a thing and get married that would technically makes us step brother and sis…..”
“Don’t finish that sentence, don’t you dare finish that sentence!” He shouted, covering his face with his hands.
“Calm down they’re not getting hitched tomorrow and who says whatever they might be up to now will even amount to that. I was joking!”
Ivar puffed out some air. “I’m not fucking my sister.”
“We’re not blood related you idiot.”
He clapped his hands together.
“Well…it appears we have no choice.” He said decisively. “Get your naked dress off we’re having sex right now.”
“Wow, what an invitation.” You replied sarcastically but followed up with a nervous laugh.
He had you on your back in one powerful move.
“Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll respect your wishes and walk away.” He murmured.
Those big blue eyes were full of hope and possibly a tiny bit of fear.
“If everything you’ve just told me turns out to be a bunch of lies, your father may have decided not to murder you but I swear to Odin, I will.”
“And I’ll let you.” He replied. “But answer my question first.”
You brought your hands up to gently cup his face.
“I can’t tell you I don’t want you because it couldn’t be further from the truth.”
There was a moment of hesitation and confusion on his beautiful features before he worked out what you were actually saying. Then you saw relief and he breathed out heavily.
“Now kiss me you little Viking boy bitch before I change my mind.”
“Okay…you low budget James Bond.”
You both laughed and as you brought his face closer, you thought about what you were about to do. Neither of you could make any promises and it could end up fading away after only one night. But you knew you wanted Ivar no matter what the outcome.
Trust could be earned back and hearts could be repaired. Maybe it would work out maybe not but you adored him too much not to give it your best shot.
Many years ago you were snooping through some documents and found a letter that your biological father had written to your mother. After he’d been cast out, he begged her to reconsider.
He urged her not to make a mistake she’d regret. A life being tortured by what ifs is not a well lived one, he said. You never knew the man but you were going to take the only piece of advice you ever got from him, albeit indirectly and not even aimed at you in the first place.
Dammit, you were going to live boldly and love fiercely and there would be no ‘what if.’ Ivar was not going to become a distant memory or your biggest regret.
You were all in, irrespective of cost or consequence but most of all the thing that pulled you to him was that you loved him, so much. The kind of love that was worth holding on to.
People say it’s always darkest before the dawn. It took a long time but for you and Ivar, finally, the sun was rising.
@youbloodymadgenius @lonewolf471 @peachyboneless @tgrrose @youbelongeverywhere @lordsexmachine @pomegranates-and-blood @ordinaryornate @didiintheblog @ecarroll1978
Modern Ivar x Reader
Summary - Ivar is part of the Viking Mafia and reader is the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy Kattegat aristocratic family. She was sent abroad to study for many years and finally returns to find out her grandfather still does not want her to be part of the family. That is, until he realizes she may be of use to him. This is based on an anon request
I thought this was going to be the last chapter but it turned out too long so there is one more after this and then that’s it. Hope you enjoy 😉
Warnings - bad language incl. insults exchanged between Ivar and Reader, talk of family conflicts and affairs, mentions of organised crime, death and murder, suggestions of violence but it doesn’t turn into anything, talk of being abandoned and broken hearts, hints of smut.
Words - 7700 approx.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
Art by @peachyboneless
Your heart was in your mouth the moment you stepped through the first set of automatic doors at Kattegat airport. They were opening and closing behind and in front as people came and went while you stayed frozen in the middle. You’d barely been in the country ten minutes when you had a Ragnarsson sighting.
Lucky for you though it wasn’t your blue-eyed runaway but his eldest brother Bjorn. It was way in the distance and he was in a check-in queue so as far as you could tell he hadn’t noticed you.
You only knew of Bjorn from photos of family members you’d studied when working for the agency. You’d never met him in person. You actually didn’t know how involved he was in the black market side of Ragnar’s business ventures because the relationship between father and son had been strained over the years.
Bjorn and Ivar had different mothers and it was a source of contention between the eldest Ragnarsson and his half-brothers. As far as you could work out, Ragnar cheated on his first wife with Aslaug or something like that and Bjorn held a serious grudge.
The story goes that Aslaug bewitched Ragnar and lured him away from Bjorn’s mother which sounded like some Viking era horseshit to you and just another way to shift all the blame onto the other woman.
Then there was also your own mother’s version of events that she had a little fling with the big bad crime boss in between wives but she was kidding herself. As if she wasn’t Ragnar’s mistress! To be fair, she did admit that may have been the case.
Anyway, you had better things to fill your mind with right now. Namely, keeping your eyes peeled for any danger. And you didn’t mean threats to your life, more your heart if you happened to stumble across Ivar.
Kattegat was a modern city but not that big. Everyone seemed to know everyone in one capacity or another. Your family was certainly well known and once upon a time probably well regarded but that must’ve changed in the last twelve months.
There had been so much press about what your late grandfather and uncle had been up to that it stood to reason the family was probably considered more notorious these days rather than held in the same high esteem of years gone by. A little detail your mother had not given a lot of thought to.
Before leaving Melbourne, you tried to get her to understand that her welcome home may not be as favourable as she was expecting. People who were once friends would likely abandon her. There was nothing like a scandal to open your eyes as to who your friends really were.
She disagreed and that was her prerogative but you figured she had a hard life lesson coming her way. Sometimes you felt like you were mothering her and not the other way around.
You shivered a little as you finally forced yourself through the second set of airport doors. There was a chill in the air that you weren’t used to anymore. In the last year you’d grown accustomed to the Melbourne weather but Kattegat was like a muscle memory and you knew you would acclimate again in no time. The place was hardwired into your DNA. This was where you were from and no matter what happened in future, it would always be your true home.
Speaking of homes, your mother informed you that she didn’t book a hotel as was your request but instead she announced that you were going to stay at the family estate.
“Mother!” You shouted over the bustle of people and traffic outside the airport. “I don’t want to go back there.”
“The property has been vacant since my parents passed away and Johnathan umm…left. There is much to organise.”
The corners of your mouth twitched as you held back a smirk. Your dear mother, with blue blood flowing through her veins, couldn’t bring herself to say the word prison when referring to her brother’s whereabouts.
“We can stay in a hotel and go there during the day.” You argued.
“Why would we waste money on a hotel when we have accommodation already?”
“If you were so concerned with wasting money why did we fly first class?” You snapped.
“Oh shut up child.” She bantered back.
“The estate is also out of the city and isolated. We are sitting ducks.”
“You’re being ridiculous nothing is going to happen to us.” She waved her hand in front of your face, mocking your concern.
The arrival of the car to pick you up stopped any further conversation.
“Miss Charlotte, good to see you again after so long.” The driver addressed your mother.
“Thank you Tomas.” She replied in the polite but distant voice she used when communicating with the help. “Good to see you again too. I hope you and your wife are keeping well.”
It amused you to no end when you listened to your mother talk to staff. She was always very respectful and kind but there was this ‘us and them’ tone in her voice that had been no doubt deep-rooted in her since she was a small child.
“Yes we are thank you Ma’am. I was able to find ahh…other work.”
You assumed Tomas was referring to the family mansion left empty after your mother’s parents passed away thus leaving no use for a regular driver. There was no need for staff at all really but your mother had kept on one person to tend to the house and the groundskeeper.
Her rationale was that she hadn’t made a decision yet on the sale of the property and could, quite feasibly, return to permanently live there after enough time had gone by and the scandal had ‘all blown over’.
Human trafficking isn’t the type of incident that would easily fade in people’s memories, or so you tried to tell her but to borrow some words from Ivar, she was living in cuckoo land.
Ivar…there you were thinking about him again. That’s how it always happened too. Thoughts of him would just creep up on you and pop up in other random and unrelated mind chatter. It showed you just how much you still cared about him. Not that you were in need of a reminder.
Tomas pulled up to the big wrought iron gates you’d seen so many times before and waited for them to open. As the car made its way down the tree lined drive, which was well maintained, you recalled the last time you were here and the unpleasant encounters with your mother’s family.
After all this time and everything that transpired, you were still unable to refer to them as your family. You were both not surprised and not bothered by it at all.
Tomas helped with the bags and you entered through the front door of the residence. It was perfectly preserved, just like the gardens, so perhaps your mother had been right in keeping on two staff. But there was an eeriness to the place and knowing that your mother’s mother had expired somewhere in one of the rooms probably added to it.
Not that you believed she was haunting the halls or anything but you did feel a chill in the air. Moat likely due to the weather rather than a ghostly presence. Oh well, if she really was here then you were quite happy to tell her in spirit form what you never did in life. Which was to fuck off.
“I feel in desperate need of a shower after that long flight.” Your mother announced as she clipped clopped her way down the large entrance hall.
Why she’d worn sky scraper heels on the plane was anyone’s guess but she did like her fancy things that’s for sure. Glancing down at your sneaker clad feet you felt far more comfortable but never came close to matching your darling mother when it came to sophistication.
“Come, come Y/N” She beckoned you to follow. “I’ve asked the housekeeper to make up two rooms for us.”
You dutifully followed her further into the mansion and then up the elaborate staircase to the upper floor. As you walked you studied the various paintings adorning the walls, mostly of ancestors looking very regal and important in their poses. You wondered how ashamed they would be if they knew how their direct descendants had besmirched the family name.
The property was centuries old but parts of the interior had been refurbished to fit it out with all the modern conveniences. Most importantly, there were luxurious bathrooms adjoining every bedroom and proper heating everywhere from the rooms to the towel racks. Essential for surviving a Kattegat winter.
The bedrooms weren’t just rooms either. They were suites with walk in closets and dressing rooms. Some even had their original working fireplaces which must’ve added to the ambiance on a snowy night. A fully heated home with a crackling fireplace and snuggled under heavy blankets, you couldn’t imagine anything better.
Except perhaps the addition of a warm body in the bed with you. Or more specifically, a body with broad shoulders, strong arms, disarming blue eyes and umm….named Ivar.
You stepped into the shower and let the warm water relax your tired muscles. Even though you’d travelled in first class, nothing ever compared with being on firm ground with proper facilities. You closed your eyes and wished the water would wash your troubles away.
You must’ve been in there longer than you thought because your mother came banging on the bathroom door to see if you were okay.
“Are you hungry honey?”
“Yeah, maybe a little.” You replied.
You shut off the shower and wrapped yourself in a warm fluffy towel off the heated rack and opened the door.
“Are you going to make something?” You asked her.
“No I was thinking of ordering in. How does Pizza sound?”
Kattegat wasn’t exactly renowned for its gastronomic delights like so many other places around the globe but the pizza was usually a safe option. You were so worn out and hungry from the long journey you weren’t going to be too picky.
Pizza made you think of Ivar. Why? You had no idea. Probably at some point the pair of you must’ve eaten pizza together but the problem was, you could link any memory to him. It was so freakin annoying but you were in both yours and his home town so it was logical you’d occasionally think of him.
If only it was occasionally though.
You were rummaging around in your make-up bag and came across the half used bottle of his body wash. Flipping off the cap you brought it to your nose and inhaled deeply. The aroma flooded your senses and if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine him standing right there behind you, his muscly arms tightening around your waist as he kissed your neck.
The scent was just so masculine. A little bit spicy and a hint of musk which smelled divine on its own but when mixed in with Ivar’s skin, there was this irresistible and sensual warmth to it that practically made you flood your panties the moment you caught even the faintest whiff.
That was what he did to you. Dammit…you needed to throw the bottle away. Like, maybe tomorrow…or next week.
With a deep sigh, you put the bottle back in your bag and finished getting dressed. Scent memories of Ivar were nearly breaking your heart all over again. What the fuck were you going to do if you saw him?
You went to bed with that thought bouncing around in your head. Fair to say you didn’t get much sleep despite how drained you were but at some point you did drift off. Morning arrived far too soon and with the dawn of a new day came new possibilities of running into Ivar.
Unless of course you refused to leave the estate. Knowing your mother, if you did try to pull a stunt like that she’d probably find a way to track him down and invite him over. You just had to get him out of your head.
“Are you going to catch up with Ivar today?” Your mother asked the moment you stepped into the kitchen.
“You can’t be serious.” You scoffed.
“Why would you say that?” She appeared to be genuinely confused.
“Come on Mama!” You exclaimed. “Has sleeping here made you forget everything that happened?”
“Most of all the pat where he left me.” You added.
“I firmly believe he didn’t leave you darling, he left what he probably thought was a no win situation.”
“So being with me was a no win situation?”
“You are well aware that’s not what I meant.” She sighed. “Anyway, I didn’t know you and Ivar had talked about a future.”
“Not in any depth but there was some discussion of it.”
The thought of it made you feel a rush of sadness. Not good at all.
“To be honest, I don’t want to talk or think about him any more while we’re here so can you please not bring it up again?” You requested.
“But I just think….”
“Ma!” You shouted. “I am not going to catch up with him. I have no way to contact him and not only that I do not want to see him.”
“I think you’ll change your mind.” She replied confidently.
“Kattegat is a magical place dear daughter. It has a funny way of deciding things for you.”
You had never known your mother to be particularly spiritual or to believe in any sort of other worldly forces so you had no clue what she was on about.
“People from Kattegat are always connected to this place. It’s like we’re bound to the earth and always destined to return.”
“That’s rubbish mother.”
“We’re here aren’t we? And this is where Ivar ran to, didn’t he?”
“We are here because you wore me down not because there was some mystic force pulling us home.” You explained.
“And for the love of Odin, can you please stop bringing up Ivar!”
You felt guilty for snapping but it was just too much. If you indulged in that kind of thinking, even for a second, you’d get caught up in some hopeful fantasy where Ivar had feelings for you and you were destined to be together.
“Okay, okay!” Your mother held up her hands in surrender. “What should we do today?”
Thankfully she took the conversation in a different direction but you had no idea how to answer. Strangely, when you finally agreed to come home you actually didn’t give much thought to how you were going to fill the time when you got here.
Part of you thought it best to keep a low profile. No one really knew of your existence prior to the whole disgraceful family incident but thanks to some very determined journalists who were intent on digging up as much dirt on your relatives as possible, your identity was discovered.
To the best of your knowledge there weren’t many photos of you out there so most locals probably wouldn’t recognise you but if your agency training had taught you one thing it was to always prepare for the unexpected.
“I don’t know Mama” You replied. “Whatever we decide I think keeping to the shadows would be best.”
“Why would we travel all this way if all we’re going to do is stay on the estate and stare out the windows?”
“I didn’t want to come here so you tell me.”
“I think you need to go back to sleep you’re rather cranky today.”
“I know Mama I’m sorry.” You told her. “I’m really feeling on edge being back home.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen.” She said with a firm nod to emphasise the point.
“Did your crystal ball tell you that?”
She poked her tongue out in response then quietly set about fixing breakfast. Conversation turned to what to do about the estate and her parent’s belongings. You suggested using the time to start to go through the residence, room by room, and decide what to pack, discard or donate to charity.
Your mother wasn’t so keen on the idea, telling you that she wasn’t ready to pack away her family just yet. You suspected it had more to do with her assuming that she was coming back here to live rather than processing her grief. If she did return for good, it would definitely be without you.
It made you think, for the first time, that maybe you needed to consider your own plans. In one way or another you’d been alone for most of your life. First when you were shipped off to boarding school and then University so if you were to start afresh, alone, you knew you could do it.
Anytime you watched a TV show set in a fictitious small town, it made you wish you could find somewhere like that to settle. Obviously the whole idea was romantic and ridiculous and very far removed from reality but it was nice to dream just the same.
Truthfully, small town life would probably drive you mad. You valued your privacy and weren’t keen on getting to know too many people, most definitely a consequence of your childhood.
Unfortunately, your mother wasn’t giving up that easily and circled back to going for a wander through the main restaurant and shopping district. After much debate and just as you did about the trip home, you gave in.
A couple of hours later, there you were in the local shopping mall with your mother smiling happily while you wanted to cower in a corner somewhere. She was marching along proudly like she was returning home from a tour of duty while you kept your eyes lowered to the ground.
Actually, what you needed was to find a hat shop, buy one and pull it down low over your head so no one would notice you. Great idea in theory but with the way your mother was drawing attention to herself you trailing behind her in a disguise was pointless. The person you were hiding from the most would see her in an instant.
You were fiddling with your hair trying to see if you could pull it over your face instead when your mother spoke.
“Ivar.” She said.
“Mother, how many times do I have to tell you I don’t want to talk about him?”
“I’m not bringing him up in conversation Y/N he’s over there.” She raised her hand and pointed in the direction of a café a short distance ahead.
“Oh fuck!” You grabbed her arm and pulled her into the nearest store. You pretended to flick through the racks of clothing while peering out the shop window.
“Do you think he saw us?” You were in a panic.
“I can’t say for certain but he was sitting side on so my best guess would be no.”
“Thank the gods for that!” You exclaimed. “I want to get out of here immediately.”
“I think you’re being hysterical and for no good reason.”
“Mother shush.” You whispered fiercely. “This is not up for negotiation.”
“Can I help you ladies with anything?” A sales assistant approached you.
“No thank you” Your mother responded. “We’re not really in here to buy, my daughter is trying to hide from the boy she has a crush on.”
“She’s joking” You said to the employee.
“No I’m not.” She smirked at you.
“Yes you are!” You said through gritted teeth as you grabbed her arm firmly and led her away from the window.
You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you but in lieu of that you bolted through the racks of clothing dragging your mother behind. You could hear the sales person giggling.
“That was unnecessary!” You snapped.
“Maybe,” She agreed. “But it’s true.”
“What are we doing then? We can’t stay in the store for hours.”
“We are going back home.” You replied.
“You can go home darling but I’m staying.”
“Suits me just fine.”
You called Tomas to come get you and stormed off without another word. You half expected her to follow and maybe the whole ‘I’m going home’ thing was a bluff on your part designed to motivate her into action but you were both as stubborn as each other so she was digging her heels in.
While you waited, you kept checking your phone to see if she’d call but she didn’t so when Tomas arrived, you glanced around one last time and then got in the car. There was a moment of hesitation where you wondered if leaving her was stupid but she was adamant that there was zero risk in Kattegat.
Fine! She could see if she was right and if not, eat her damn words.
Oh you felt like a terrible daughter but your panic over knowing Ivar was so close overrode anything else. You only saw him from the back while you spied through the store window and had it not been for the crutch resting on the chair nearby, you may not have even realised it was him.
He had his hair braided which was something new. Since you’d known him, he’d always styled it in a sexy man bun. Not that you’d known him that long so maybe it was a return to a previous hairstyle.
The braids looked great, even from a distance, and made him look so Viking like. You wondered if that was the bargain he’d struck with his father when he resurfaced. Maybe he had to fully commit to the family business so Ragnar would take the death threat off the table.
If that was the case it’d be quite upsetting. Ivar didn’t want that life for himself, he’d said as much to you more times than you could count but if that was his only choice, it was better than being dead.
Anyway, not your concern. You simply could not spend a second longer worrying about his fate or wishing you were with him. It was not good for your mental health. Not to mention it ripped your heart out every single time.
A few hours later, you gave in to your guilt and called your mother. As it turned out she was on her way home because of an unpleasant incident. She ran into some old friends, or at least she thought they were her friends, and just as you predicted they completely blanked her when she went to embrace them warmly.
You could hear it in her voice that she was close to tears as she retold the story so you didn’t serve up an ‘I told you so’. It would only make her feel worse than she already did. She said she was not only stunned they would do that to her but absolutely humiliated by it as well.
All the anger you had from earlier evaporated and as soon as she walked in the door you hugged her tightly. Interestingly, her arms were full of shopping bags so in between being shunned by her old friends, clearly she managed to make some purchases.
She was still the same crazy shopaholic as always!
“I guess you weren’t that heartbroken.” You said smugly after releasing her.
“It’s called retail therapy Y/N.” She returned fire.
“I can see you had a lot of therapy then.”
“Don’t be such a smart ass.” She playfully slapped your arm. “I bought you a gift.”
“Oh really?” Your mood conveniently got a little lighter.
“Yes really.” She replied and shoved a couple of bags at you.
Inside one was the most beautiful Dior dress. It was ice blue with a jewelled bodice but not too overdone so it didn’t look tacky. Not that Dior would ever be tacky. The fabric was quite sheer and you could faintly see the underwire around the bust area so you wondered what it would look like on. There didn’t seem to be much in the way of lining.
In the other bag was a gorgeous pair of Christian Louboutin strappy heels. The whole ensemble was absolutely breathtaking.
“What’s all this for?” You gasped as you ran your fingertips over the stunning garment.
“I thought we would get dressed up for dinner tonight.” She replied proudly.
“Are we going out somewhere?”
“No we’re staying in but I thought we deserved it.” She explained. “I’ve asked the housekeeper to contact our old chef and he was free to make us a nice dinner.”
“We are in need of some pampering.” She smiled.
“Wow, this is so….” You were lost for words.
“You are going to look so beautiful in it my darling.” She was so excited.
“It is such a pretty pale blue, more an icy blue come to think of it and so soft.” You brought it to rub on your cheek for a minute before holding it out in front of you.
“Mmm yes, ice blue.” She raised her eyebrows. “The colour reminded me of….”
“Mother please,” You shot her a warning glare. “This is such a nice moment don’t ruin it.”
You knew exactly what, or should you say who, she was going to liken the colour to and you didn’t want to hear it. Now or ever again.
Instead, you concentrated on the work of art you held in your hands. From the fitted bodice, a slightly gathered skirt fell softly down to about knee length. It had the same stylish smattering of sparkle adorning the bottom half of the dress and made it look almost like shooting stars in the night sky.
You could not wait to try it on!
“Dinner is at 8 pm and I want you to make an effort with your hair and make-up as if we were having a night out on the town. I want us to feel extravagant this evening and have some fun.”
“Thank you Mama,” You kissed her cheek. “This is such a wonderful idea and just what we need.”
“Yes we definitely are in need of the kind of night I have planned.”
“I think I will treat myself to a relaxing bubble bath.” You informed her with glee.
“Go into my bathroom, there is plenty of sweet smelling things for you to choose from.”
You practically skipped down the hallway you were so thrilled and then took the stairs two at a time in your rush to start on your pampering regime.
Hanging the dress carefully, you made your way to your mother’s room to choose some products. You settled on something floral smelling for the bubbles and a sheet mask for your face which promised to brighten your complexion before a big night out to the point you started believing the damn thing had super powers.
Not that you were going anywhere but you wanted to go all out and feel special. Fuck it! You were getting dressed to the nines. It would be a sacrilege not to and the dress deserved the ultimate respect. It was Dior after all….
You’d never been one for labels, even though your mother would have bought you anything had you requested it but when she did it on her own you very much appreciated it.
A couple of hours later, after a decadent soak in the tub, you applied shimmer body butter you’d found in your mother’s room followed by some J’Adore perfume. Obviously you had to do Dior fragrance with the Dior dress….you weren’t a savage.
Your make-up and hair followed and you did both in a way you were comfortable with and hoped complimented the outfit.
Now to finally slip on the dress. You wiggled your way into the bodice, twisted around to do up the zip and put on the shoes. As you walked over to the full length mirror, your eyes bulged.
Shit! You could just see the soft outline of your nipples through the fabric. Meh, what did it matter, you weren’t going anywhere. But you made a mental note to get it altered before you wore it out in public.
Descending the stairs, you heard your mother gasp.
“Oh darling you look stunning!”
“Thank you Mama,” You smiled excitedly. “You can see my boobs though.”
Her gaze dropped down to your bust.
“Not really” She didn’t sound convincing.
“Oh come on, yes you can!”
“We’re at home, no one will notice.”
“No one is here.” You frowned. “Or are….”
“The housekeeper, chef and a waiter that’s all I meant.” She interrupted you quickly.
You held her gaze as a fleeting unease settled in your stomach but she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the formal dining room.
“Let’s have a drink!”
She insisted on champagne to start. You toasted to your return to Kattegat and hopefully no more incidents for the rest of the stay.
“However long that may be.” She added.
“It’ll be two weeks long because we have return flights to Melbourne.” You replied, arching one eyebrow at her.
“Yes, yes that’s what I meant.” She waved her hand around.
There was that uneasy feeling again. What was she up to?
No more than twenty minutes later you had your answer. In the distance, you heard the doorbell and then footsteps approaching. Not only that, there was a shockingly familiar thud punctuating each step that had your heart in your throat.
“Mother you didn’t….” You gasped.
The look on her face could only be described as a mixture of sheepish and smug, if that was even possible to have going on at the same time. Before you could start arguing, the guests appeared. First Ragnar and then stepping out from behind him was the face you knew so well.
The curve of the jaw you’d traced your fingertips over countless times, those beautiful lips and piercing blue eyes.
You could barely breathe and it felt like the corset of the dress was crushing your ribs. You didn’t know whether to scream or run or do both and run screaming from the room. Instead you just froze, mouth slightly ajar.
“Good evening Charlotte.” Ragnar addressed your mother first as he took her hand and gently kissed both cheeks.
He moved to you next, studying you with those fucking scary blue eyes before greeting you the same way. He did some weird head wobble thing before stepping back.
“Y/N, you look stunning.” He said. “Good to see you again.”
“Is it?” You snapped.
“Yes” He offered no more, already anticipating where this was heading.
“Because last time I saw you, I believe you were going to kill me.”
“Lucky for you I didn’t.” He winked.
Was he serious? What the fuck? Almost murdering someone was not the moment for a flirty wink and you weren’t even going to get started on the cowardly fugitive hiding over Ragnar’s shoulder. Was he implying you should be grateful to Ivar or something?
You could feel the red hot burn of rage coursing through your veins. Perhaps there was heat radiating from your body because your mother lunged forward and wrapped a steadying arm around your waist.
“All water under the bridge darling.” She awkwardly stated. “We can put that behind us can’t we?”
“Easy for you to say you weren’t the one that was almost murdered.”
“But you weren’t.” Ivar said softly as he stepped out from behind his father.
“Oh, he speaks!” You cried out, the sarcasm in your tone unmistakable.
“Am I supposed to be thankful to you both?” You bit back.
“Y/N can we please…” Your mother was trying to diffuse the situation.
“How could you do this?” You replied to her. “When did you do this?”
“Y/N I know we’ve had our differences in the past.” Ragnar jumped in.
“Is that what you call it?” You replied snidely.
“Charlotte ran into us at a local restaurant today and she mentioned you were in town too. We thought it might be nice to get together and to ahh…make amends.”
You glared at him like he’d just said the stupidest thing you ever heard. Which it pretty much was. At least the power balance felt like it had shifted though. When Ivar first introduced you to his father in that private backroom of the restaurant, you were the one who was nervous but not now. The two men looked quite ill at ease.
Your angry stare shifted to baby Ragnarsson. He was fidgeting nervously and couldn’t look you in the eye.
“I haven’t been here in such a long time.” Ragnar said to your mother. “Would you show me around Charlotte?”
He wiggled his fingers and she happily accepted the invitation. She was practically glowing the moment her hand slid into his so you knew where that was going to end up. Looks like you’d be sleeping with a pillow over your head that night for fear of hearing sex noises from your mother’s suite.
“I would love to Ragnar.” She replied. “I can see our children need a moment.”
“No we don’t” You responded bluntly.
“Yes we do.” Ivar murmured.
“So you know what I need now do you?” You seethed at hime.
Ragnar and your mother made a quick exit as Ivar took a breath to respond. Then he shut his mouth again and just stared at you, face devoid of any recognisable emotion.
“I can see your tits.” He finally spoke.
“Fuck you.” You spat.
Your hands balled into fists and although you weren’t a violent person, despite your previous career choice, there was a split second when you thought you might punch him in the mouth. You were also clenching your teeth together so hard you thought you might actually fracture one.
“That’s not very nice.” He took a step towards you. “I haven’t seen you in such a long time and that’s how you speak to me.”
You knew his vocal nuances well enough to understand he wasn’t saying that in anger but almost playfully which was odd. Perhaps he was trying to calm you down but it did the opposite.
“How fucking dare you!” You yelled and slapped him across the face.
Your eyes widened in shock. You kinda thought you might do something foolish like that. You also expected Ivar to block the swing before it connected but he didn’t. He withstood the impact like a pro, even if his head did rear back just a fraction.
You realised it must’ve been quite an impact especially when you saw a slight redness appear across one cheek and felt the residual sting on your palm.
“You hit like a girl James Bond.” He said flatly.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“I’d rather fuck you.”
His face was still expressionless and his tone gave nothing away but it seemed like he was trying to provoke you.
“You’re a fucking liar.”
“Is every other word you say going to be fuck?”
“Why the fuck do you care?”
“I don’t, I just thought you were smarter than that.” He took another step closer. “Only unimaginative people resort to so much foul language.”
“When did you turn into the word police?”
“Right around the time you got a filthy mouth.”
You were fuming. You raised your hand to slap him again but he saw it coming and grabbed your wrist. Then with lightning speed his other hand flew behind your neck and gripped a fist full of your hair.
He was so close now you could faintly smell alcohol on his breath. Perhaps that’s why he was coming across weird, he was drunk.
His big blue eyes were flicking around your face, studying you closely.
“Why are you wearing a see-through dress?”
The whole interaction was confusing. First he insulted your choice of words and now he was going after your appearance. Two could play at this game. Like for like….
“Nice fucking braids….you little Viking bitch.”
He breathed in sharply. That must’ve pushed his buttons because he tugged on your hair roughly causing you to stumble backwards. He moved with you forcing your further back until you hit the dining table.
Fear began filter through the fury. Had your foolish mother walked into a trap? Was Ragnar somewhere else in the house murdering her? You started to formulate a plan. Ivar was so close you could attack his weakness and deliver a few sharp kicks to his legs.
He was wearing his braces of course but it would be enough to disable him for a moment so you could wrench free from his grasp.
“Answer me.” He demanded.
His nails dug into your wrist causing you to wince in pain. He pulled your hair again.
“Why are you wearing that dress?”
“Why are you asking me such a stupid fucking question?”
It had reached a point where it sounded silly saying fuck so much but because he’d brought it to your attention, you stubbornly kept doing it.
“You’re trying to tease me aren’t you?”
“Don’t be such a conceited fuck, I didn’t even know you were coming.”
“But you want me to cum, don’t you?”
“You forgot to say I want to…”
“What the fuck are you doing?” You tried to push him away but he folded your arm around your back and pressed his body into you.
With your one free hand you tried grabbing at whatever you could but he had you in such a tight hold that you could barely move. You were frightened for what might be coming next and for what might be happening to your mother.
“Not so tough now are you James Bond?”
You were blinking rapidly, partly out confusion but maybe it was helping you stay focused.
“I told you not to fucking call me that.”
“I don’t do what you fucking ask me.” He hissed.
“You did once you little bitch.”
That one hit hard and a quick glance sideways showed you his jaw muscles were clenching. He gripped your hair tighter, not that you thought that was even possible.
“How dare you…”
“How dare I what?” You interrupted him.
“You forgot to say fuck.”
“I was repeating your words.”
“Like I said before, so unimaginative.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Again like I said before, I’d rather fuck you.”
“You’re a fucking liar!” You shouted.
Fear and rage was giving way to the despair you’d been living with for the past year. Was his goal not to kill you but to emotionally wound you, deeper than he already had?
He must’ve read the confusion in your eyes but kept up the fierce icy stare and remained silent. You couldn’t.
“You abandon me!” You screamed.
“There it is.” He murmured. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
“Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!”
The whole encounter had your head so muddled up, the only thing you could do was to shout the same thing over and over. No other words would come out.
“Say it again.” He demanded.
“The other part.” He replied.
“Not until you say it again.”
Your bottom lip began to tremble. This was hurting your heart too much and tears started to cloud your vision. It was overwhelming, you’d never seen this side to him. The Ivar you thought you knew was obviously gone.
“Fucking let me go.” You said weakly.
“Then hurry up and fucking kill me if that’s what this is about.” You closed your eyes then whispered, “I don’t care anymore.”
He pushed your arm further up your back until you cried out in pain. If this was the end, you were going to take one last shot at his precious little ego.
“Do you need daddy’s help little bitch?” You opened your eyes in time to see his lip curl into a snarl.
“Couldn’t fucking do it last time either, could you?” You kept going. You had nothing to lose.
“You’re not a fucking Viking, you’re a weak….little….boy.”
It was on the tip of your tongue to say cripple but even in your helpless position you couldn’t bring yourself to stoop that low. You saw the insult ignite a fire inside him that was reflected in his eyes.
The hand pinning your arm was around your throat in the blink of an eye. He was strong, and his fingers pressed down. Both arms were free now and you grabbed at his hand but the only thing you seemed to do was scratch your own neck.
You gasped as he tightened his grip.
“F-f-fuck y-yourself…” You choked out.
“I said….” He growled in your ear. “I’d rather….fuck….you.”
Just as you thought you were taking your last few breaths before you blacked out, both hands grabbed your face and his lips crashed onto yours.
You coughed against his mouth as your lungs burned for air. This was an unexpected suffocation technique but you weren’t going down without a fight. You punched and slapped at his arms, face, back or anything else you could reach but he kept his lips sealed to yours.
His thumbs slid back and forth across your cheekbones as he held you firmly in his embrace. He nipped at your bottom lip to force you to open your mouth a bit more and then thrust his tongue inside.
You gasped as he moved back to suck your lip and it dawned on you that he was actually kissing you, not trying to kill you.
One hand moved behind your head as yours travelled up his arms. He forced you backwards with his body weight until you were lying on the table. Your legs wrapped around his waist.
You were grabbing at him again but for very different reasons this time. Your mind was numb, pushed forward only by a desperate hunger for more, to feel more of him.
Ivar gripped your hair once more, jerking your head to the side and broke the kiss. A little whine escaped from you until he moved to your neck, attacking you with such vigour that it was making your whole body shudder.
“S-s-so you’re not….y-you’re not…trying to k-kill…” You stammered.
“I said…” He was panting against your skin, breath tickling you. “I said I wanted…I want to fuck you.”
He was licking and sucking, making his way down across your collarbone then up the other side to roll his tongue over the outside of your ear. His onslaught was relentless, back and forth, back and forth until you couldn’t take it anymore.
You needed more. In spite of everything that had happened and all the hurt you felt not to mention good old common sense, you still wanted him. Desire burned inside you like never before but you tried to keep a level head by interrupting his momentum.
“But you left.” You murmured. “You left me.”
“I didn’t want to.” He whispered before moving back to your mouth.
It was no use. His kiss took on a fiery intensity that had you both moaning and rocking your hips against one another. If one of you didn’t stop, you were going to have sex right there. Your mind immediately flew to the chef and waiter who must be hovering somewhere near.
“W-wait.” You pushed him back by the shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” His big blue eyes appeared in front of your face again.
“There are people around.”
“And your father, my m-mother.”
“I’m…this is…I don’t know what’s going on…”
He straightened up and gently pulled you with him until you were both standing. He smoothed your hair and pushed one of the straps from your dress back on your shoulder.
“It’s too much, I get it.” He gave you a small smile before briefly pressing his lips against yours.
You took a breath to speak but heard approaching footsteps so you both quickly tried to fix your appearance before your parents returned. Not that it mattered because the second your mother walked in, you noticed her gaze flick from your heaving chest to your swollen lips.
She smirked, knowing exactly what you’d been up to. As did you with her when you spied a smudge of her lipstick on Ragnar’s neck.
Well, what a crazy fucking turn of events this was.
You took another deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair a few times. Gods you could only imagine how hideous it must look by now! And, you took a few steps away from Ivar.
“Oh stop it.” Ragnar chuckled.
“Huh? What did I do?” You panicked.
“Stop trying to act as if nothing was going on.” He smiled widely at you.
“We were in the kitchen and the poor waiter told us you were having sex in here.” Your mother announced.
“We were not having sex mother!” You put your hands over your face, cringing.
“We were on our way to having sex though.” Ivar added with a shrug.
He limped over to you and tried to pull your hands away from you face. You dropped your arms nearly drowned as your gaze connected with his beautiful blue eyes. He leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“Not only can I see your tits through that fucking sexy dress but also that your nips are rock hard.”
He pecked you softly on the cheek.
“Just like my cock.”
Your mouth watered, not because you were keen for dinner but suddenly all you could think about was sucking Ivar’s dick. You were so confused and also mildly embarrassed that everything you’d plotted and planned before coming back to Kattegat had gone out the proverbial window.
Strategies to avoid or resist him had been a complete waste of brain power because your resolve tumbled like a house of cards the moment you felt his touch. You wanted to hate yourself but you were too fucking turned on to think logically. Anyway, nothing was going to get in the way of what seemed inevitable.
The Lothbrok men were having a sleepover tonight.
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Aslaug is Lagertha's top and you can't argue with me
Work by Savelyeva Ekaterina
Queen Gunnhild (Vikings) - Credit if using
Part of The Viking Era map.
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What was the Battle of Clontarf (1014)?
Introduction The Battle of Clontarf (Irish: Cath Chluain Tarbh) took place on 23 April 1014 at Clontarf, near Dublin, on the east coast of Ireland. It pitted an army led by Brian Boru, High King of Ireland, against a Norse-Irish alliance comprising the forces of Sigtrygg Silkbeard, King of Dublin; Máel Mórda mac Murchada, King of Leinster; and a Viking army from abroad led by Sigurd of Orkney…
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Lagertha: who is aslaug
*Bjorn sitting at the table wide eyed*
*Ragnar looks at Bjorn*
Ragnar: you fucking rat