#bexruthless

Yay! Eli/Ubbe!!!!!!

Also, Scotchy what the hell?

My Tumblr Crushes:

princeubbe

theboatbuilderswife

bexruthless

scoundrcls

daenfireys

ingridthered

ragnarsscn

[Text: Ivar] I... Uh... I...

[Text: Ivar] I know who this is...

“You do no need legs to run,” he said softly.

He knew it hadn’t been a direct jab at him, but on some level he felt like his father was ashamed of him and his disability.  Ragnar was a King and as such deserved honorable sons.  Ivar believed that if he’d been born normal like his brothers, then his father could be proud of him just the same. His brothers were all becoming men.  Bjorn and Hvitserk were readying for a journey to the Mediterranean.  Ubbe was busy trying to convince Margarethe to marry him, allowing for Asluag to soon have the grandchildren she desperately wanted.  And Sigurd… well, Sigurd was Sigurd.  Ivar didn’t care what Sigurd did.

He was not interested in becoming a father. He yearned to raid and conquer his own lands, but his fear of water had pushed him from the sea. His days were spent at the blacksmith and off in the woods training for a fight he would never see.   Ivar felt as if he had nothing to offer his parents, but he vowed to one day prove himself otherwise.  

The young viking picked at the arm of his mother’s throne.  “If you did not wish to be king then why did you not pass along your duties to one of us?”  he asked with a purse of his lips as if it had been the obvious choice rather than abandonment.  “I bet even I could do as good a job as you have done,” he said with a smirk his father’s way.  Although Ivar dreamed of one day becoming king of Kattegat, he knew a cripple would not be his father’s first choice for an heir.

Ragnar had never been ashamed of Ivar. He was different than his other sons, warriors that he knew, but his mother was a large part of what had caused them not to bond. Ragnar had been in a weird place and he knew that he had ignored his son, many of his sons, at that point of his life. But, he wanted to get to know his sons. He truly did, and there was something in Ivar’s eyes, that Ragnar felt could one day turn into greatness.  

                        continued from x !!

                                     It did not come as a surprise that Ragnar would be brought up, and no, the old king definitely did not follow the rules, for if he had, he probably would never have been able to sail to England all those years ago. Still, it had been different, but perhaps that was also her having accepted the new situation so easily after the man had become earl.

     ❝ Do not be a fool, Ivar. What is it that you have on your mind? ❞  If anything the herbalist could always try to talk him out of it, or perhaps inform Floki to see what he would think of it, for despite not knowing what the boy had on his mind, she did not feel awfully enthusiastic just to let him do his thing without warning him of the consequences first.

                        Ingrid hadn’t heard from him since she left the apartment they shared early in the morning. There was no text from him, no answer from the ones she had sent through the day, so when she was finally going back home at such a tiring day at university and internship, her phone lit up and Ivar’s short reply about dinner was an ‘ok’. That usually annoyed her, but if he had been absent all day then she wondered if something happened or if Ivar was just not in the mood for her endless chattering. Ingrid hoped it was the latter.

            “Oh, there you are!” She cheered, walking inside their apartment as she instantly felt relieved with its warmth embracing her. After so many changes, it finally felt like home. It was hard at first, Ivar was a stubborn and so was she, but sharing an apartment when they left their homes for university sounded reasonable until they were arguing over stupid things like the colour of the walls, where the TV would stay and one day Ivar even argued with her about how ridiculous her teacups were. Ingrid would throw them at him if they weren’t so pretty. And if she couldn’t get mad at her best friend for too long. “I bought italian food for you, my kitten!” She giggled, knowing the stupid nickname would annoy him. “I’m so nice I also brought red wine and if you tell me why have you been MIA all day I can share that bottle of Russian vodka as we watch a movie.”

                                 Blood drained from her face when her uncle’s words filled her mind, Ingrid instantly felt dizzy, and betrayed. She could still remember her cousin’s amusement and her aunt’s defeated sigh at her husband’s stubbornness. It all had been planned even before King Ragnar left, her uncle told her. When she was only a child. And when the King returned to Kattegat, he was still determined to make their agreement happen, to somehow benefit all of them. Ingrid almost screamed when she was told who would be her husband, and even if she was now an Earl, her uncle still had the right to pick her a husband, someone he trusted and that would make those who threatened her to fear her, for a son of Ragnar Lothbrok as her husband could only be a good thing.

                   How the fuck marrying that unstable spoiled brat would be a good thing? The memory of him craving his axe on that little boy’s skull was still quite vivid on her mind. Ivar was chosen to be her husband, and Ingrid was not happy. On that tragic day, Ingrid had decided she would stay as far away as possible from Ivar, and that she would play alone if she had to, scared that he would do the same to her. Now, as she waited next to her uncle to properly know her future husband, Ingrid ignored every word the man said. They did not wait for too long, as they walked into the great hall, Ingrid’s hands were sweating and she could feel the heat on her cheeks. Heat of anger. She was ready to vomit when King Ragnar announced her as his wife to be.

                     If things were not already hard enough for her to deal with, Ivar’s reaction was even worst than hers. His anger was obviously something that made her take a step back, but she would not, at least not this time. Ragnar lost his battle with his own son’s stubbornness, and pulling her uncle with him, they were left alone. Ingrid suddenly wondered what was Aslaug’s opinion on that, but she kept the thought for her. “You listen, Ivar.” Ingrid started, jaws clenched as her narrowed eyes were locked on his. “I do not like this at all, and I am sure you are smart enough to know that. The last thing I ever wanted was to be forced to marry someone I do not even know - not entirely.” She shook her head, trying to push back the memory of Ivar killing that boy. “But if we are being forced to do it, I do not want to make this harder than it already is. So please, agree with me, for if you make my life unbearable I will make sure to do the same with yours.”

                          When one of Ingrid’s shieldmaidens told her there were boats approaching her lands, and that Ivar’s banner was visible, it was the first time Ingrid felt her heart pound so hard against her chest. Though she had been in Aarhus for less than six moons, it felt like they had been apart for an entire life. She missed him, even with all the things that kept her busy, Ivar’s presence was deeply missed on every little thing she did. Anxiety was even stronger when he walked into her great hall standing on his crutches, something she was still not entirely used with, as she was definitely much smaller than him.

            “If you are here to remind me of a childhood challenge then I am on the winning side, am I not?” Eyes narrowed at him, as the usual teasing tone on her voice was back after all this time. It only took her a glance and a nod to her servants so they could be alone on her Great Hall, and that she could finally wrap her arms around him in a tight embrace, making that a private moment. “Gods, I have missed you so much. How is that even possible?” Still holding him, Ingrid glanced up to him, a teasingly smile tugging on the corners of her lips. “You are the most annoying creature in Midgard, and still I have missed you.” A loud giggle parted her lips, and though she could stay that way for the rest of the day, she let him go. It was when she took her time to see that he looked different - Ingrid had never seen such confidence in his features, his hair was longer, braided in a different way than she had last seen, but his smile was still the same. “I am happy to see you here, but I am curious to what brings you to Aarhus. It is not because you have missed me, is it?”