#fierce!reader

"We found her in the caves, helping women to escape by underground tunnels," affirm the guard holding your arm firmly. You kept your head down looking at your feet when he throws you forward his master. 

He was sitting on a simple chair, braces around both his legs, a crutch near him. You heard multiple times the name of a certain Ivar The Boneless, a ruthless Vikings, leader of a Great Heather army. Judging by their clothes, and the foreign language is spoken by the warriors, you surmise, the cripple in front of you was, indeed, Ivar. 

"You don't like our company?" The leader asks in Saxon's language. Wasn't it the first time he came?

You decide to stay silent as long as you could.

"Did you cut her tongue?" Furiously ask the Vikings speaking to the soldiers that came in with you.

"No," "So why isn't she replying?!" He gets angrier, taking your silence as defiance.

His rough and callous hand stuck under your chin, lifting your head to him. At your sight, his eyes widened, a gleam burning in them. He even shifted his position in the chair, standing straight. Eyes locked together, he felt his heart fluttered, and as if you felt it too, you stop moving, paralyzed, or submerged by a flow of unknown feelings.

Even the atmosphere changes, the air seems to move slower as rays of sun point out dust whirling around your bodies, creating a space where you two are alone. At the mercy of the flow of feelings drowning you slowly. Your skin burns of desire to be touched by his fingers that curled around the edge of the armrest while your lungs are crying for air.

"Leave, all of you!" He screams, vigorously dismissing them in a hand movement. 

The warriors were used to the Ragnarson falling for each and every woman that would stand on his way, even more, if they were slaves or seems defenseless for it was an occasion for Ivar to show mercy or act as a hero. How many slaves did he free, how many women did he spare when on raid? His soldiers lost count, not that they even tried to count them. What they didn't realize, was that Ivar wasn't delusional this time, something happened between two people, at first sight.

Waiting for them all to get ou the room, Ivar furrowed his brows, watching from afar, giving you time to breathe and let go of the stupid sparkling explosions in your tummy.

As soon as the wooden door closes, his facial expression changes. His brows lift up, tenderness occupying his scintillating eyes. 

"What's your name?" And once again you remained silent, starting to get on his nerves. "Why won't you talk?" His broken voices echoed in your ears. He looked down, his hand changing into a fist encountering the armrest of his chair out frustration.

Regardless your feelings at your first eye contact, it's been forever since you put your guards down or let anyone in, it wasn't now that you'll let a human get close enough to hurt you. If he was waiting for you to be all sweet and soft, he was wrong.

"I know who you are, whichever you are striving to do. The women are promptly secured, it is solely what matters, take my life if you must, I do not object," you harshly grit your teeth. 

Ivar attention for you grew back, the fingers that once lifted your chin, gripping now your neck in a hurry. "What do you mean?" His furious loud question, resonate in the entire room and probably within all the castle. 

He did not understand the sudden change in your looks, all he was capable of when taken by surprise was act angry, so he did.

"Ivar the Boneless, head of The Great Heathen Army, Son of Ragnar which was the direct descendant of Odin, the All-father himself," you comfortably started to enumerate when his grip got tighter, making your voice trapped in your throat.

"I know who I am!" His face neared yours, rage burying wrinkles on his forehead. You glance at it, then lower your sight to his piercing azure eyes. "Do you?" You quietly ask, head tilted. The fact you weren't showing any signs of fear even when being well-aware of the fury filling his body aroused his craving for killing you. But deep in his heart, something warned him this would undoubtedly be another great mistake.

"Are you aiming to kill me?" You asked out of the blue, knocking him off his thoughts. "No," He brutally turns his head to the side, avoiding your eyes. 

He wanted you, not kill you.

When he let go of your neck, you stay still, tilting your head, wondering what was happening in his mind at this precise moment. 

At least three entire minutes have passed before he breaks the silence, turning his head toward you, a hand under his chin with his elbow on the armrest. "You are no normal maid, aren't you?" His fingers pointing your simple and dusty dress.

"Negative," you shrug.

"How do you know so much about me? And Father? What about that accent of yours? Why so many formalities, and still familiarity with me?"

"You ask too many questions," you got up, turning your back at him. 

You had exactly what you wanted, you now knew what was running on his mind. You opened a trap, and he willingly fell into it. If it was thousand of years ago, you would've probably laughed at how easy it is to trick a human. But now is no longer time for jokes and laughs.

"Where are you going?" He firmly asks.

"You are not intending to kill me, you have said," you continued to walk towards the door.

"I can keep you alive by taking you as a prisoner," the Viking replied with haste. He wouldn't keep you as a slave, he knew you would tempt something to free the others. 

You stop walking and turn to him, lowering your head, passing one hand on your face, already annoyed by his behavior.

"Are you keeping me as a captive?" 

"No," he almost spitted, biting the inside of his cheek and avoiding your stare. You silently walk back to him, and when in front of the man, place both your hands on his knees and dangerously leaned toward him. 

He followed your every movement with his eyes, not knowing what to do nor what you intend to, you seal your lips together in urge. When you break the kiss, you sensually pass your tongue on your mouth, eyes squinted. 

Ivar looked at you with incomprehension and reluctance, about the kiss, your intentions, and the fact you succeed at breaking free, just like that. His eyes twinkle with the desire to have you again while you straighten back up, still staring into his heathen soul. You glanced at his redden cheeks and started to slowly walk backward, you were too absorbed by him to break the eye contact.

"Now, if you would excuse me," you motioned your hand as in a bow, except, you didn't bow, and you were making fun of his helplessness, or so you faked. You breathed out and turn around, truly aiming for the door this time. 

Your fingers hassled to your parted lips, reminiscing the fruity flavor of his, the sparkles as well as the chills running down your spine, and even the flash in his eyes right after that kiss. 

Even if your face was now out of sight, he knew a smirk drew on it, he could stake his life on it, and he was right.

***

Curiosity, being one of the many personality traits he and his father shared, in battle, when that man was being defeated by his soldiers, Ivar stopped the execution. He spared the life of the man he heard habitants calling "Bishop". 

At the sight of a cross pendant dangling on the man's chest, he surmised "Bishop" was a Christian title. His impatience of asking questions when the man will open his eyes couldn't reach any higher stage.

It was that same day that in the streets, at the center of a crowd you caught sight of Heahmund, crawling in the dirt trying to reach for his crutch. Too bad the men around him kept shooting at it so he couldn't grab it and stand up. He raised his head to the cripple standing in front of him, no other than Ivar The Boneless. A chuckle escaped your throat at that scene. What an irony, him, that was once crawling in the dirt with no crutch, making fun of a man in that same situation.

"Y/n, Y/n...? How-" He was cut off by a blow in his stomach. Ivar's laugh got stuck in his throat when he realized the Bishop was looking at you when calling for a name. His eyes instantly changed colors to a vivid blue. Despite the grey sky, dark clouds, and even the crowd, you glimpse perfectly his stare heading right at you. 

With a hand, you fold down the piece of fabric that was hanging around your neck on your head and face before the Vikings could do anything, you vanished behind another man screaming and laughing among the other to Heahmund's fate.

***

"Her name's Y/n, search for her everywhere! Anywhere! And bring her, but to me, but if you touch only one of her hair I will kill you myself," the Viking ordered. The guards left him alone, seeing them dispatch at the crossroad you approach the doors of the Hall and push them.

"Here you are, I have sought after you wherever," you scoff at him. Ivar turned around and his eyes widened and clouded with fury and desire. Both towards you, he indeed sends his guards fetch you but he didn't think they would find you. He thought you already left town, seeing you before him surprised him as much as it relieved him. He didn't lose you.

But you have the guts to show here after you escaped from his grip the first time as if you were the one owning the place, and he wasn't okay with you acting such way. Why didn't you left town or something? Why staying here, to mock his weakness?

If so, you've won. 

Ivar's thoughts were running wild in his head, too fast for him to follow each one of them, but you were in his every thought, that was for sure.

"I overheard you scream and I came, you oftentimes scream," you lift your brows at him. "Do you want to die?" He asked without screaming, only because you've said he did so a lot. "Conceivably," you motioned your head side to side, pouting. He rolled his eyes. "I wanted you to know we have your friend," his eyes turned to the side, a darker part of the room. 

Looking closely, you notice Heahmund, sat on the ground back to the wall. "I heard your name is Y/n, or should I call you Merlin?" Ivar spoke as if he had discovered the biggest plot of his life. "Y/n is sufficient," you retorted. "Should I offer you a sit, now?" "Offer? A sit?" you confusedly ask, brows raised high. "We found all the women you helped escape, they are emprisoned," he proudly declared. 

You scoffed, gritting your teeth, your fingers folding one against the other, forming a fist.

"Even from you, that is shallow," "Stop talking as if you know me! You don't, and it's confusing," he loudly groaned. "Here, you scream again," you boldly point him with two fingers. "Come on, Y/n," you heard Heahmund pleading from the shadows. Your sarcasm was funny for a moment, now things were serious, you needed to get your things together. But how could you with your body crying for proximity with the Viking? When he was occupying your then-vacant head since you met him? 

"I do not want anything to have to do with either of you alone, so you both? No thank you," you stubbornly stated. "I think you didn't understand, you don't have a choice.” Ivar shook his head, "And it's only about me, not him. I will soon kill him," "Well, you should hurry to do so," you motioned your head forward, eyes wide, encouraging him to act.

"So, what do you say?" The Ragnarson ignore your remark, even if he had more than one question on why you wanted Heahmund dead. "My throat's dry," you coughed, making Ivar rolled his eyes again. 

***

"Who you think I am?" "Y/n or Merlin, whatever," he shook his head on why he would even respond to your query, watching you grab the cup off the table and raise it in the air. "What about my age?" He started to get confused. "Around mine," "Do you consider me as attractive?" His lids fluttered, cheeks reddened while glancing at you, leaning back in his chair as he tried to get more comfortable. "Well..." He pondered, but his face already responded to your question. "Yeah, you're right, I am charming," you nodded after choking on your drink. No need to mention you were drunk. He placed his hands on his eyes squeezing them, he wondered why he gave you that ale.

"So you got the women," you suddenly muttered with a concerned look. "I do." "Then what is it you want from me?" Your simple question makes his lids fluttered once again, as he leaned backward to put some distance between you. 

You choose to ignore his behavior, you would give your life for those women. You promised to help them when you got here and you will not fail. 

"For you to come with me," "Where?" "Everywhere." You stayed silent. 

"You ride for me, and I free them instantly," He added seeing no reaction from you. You drop the cup you were holding on the table in a thud, blankly.

"You want my life," you murmured conceding what that means. This time Ivar stayed silent.

"What did Heahmund told you about me?" You helplessly stare at him.

"Besides your name, nothing...  I refused to know more." The Viking reluctantly finishes, murmuring. "Why?" You loudly ask. He was surprised, you always seemed calm, what has changed?

"Why?" You ask with a lower voice. His eyes encountered yours and he thought he saw worries in them. "I want you to tell me who you are," "Yeah," you scoffed, not trusting a word he was saying.

He exhaled deeply and cleared his throat. 

"Would you come with me if I simply ask you to?" 

"No,"

"Right, that's why I had to have those women. To bargain with you,"

"No, to bargain me," you rectified. "What do you want me to say, I-I-" He tried but stop himself, nothing he would say will be able to make you change your mind. 

"I know what you are thinking, that there something connecting us, but it is non," you shook your head both sides, still not looking at him. "Huh.." was the only thing able to left his mouth and he cursed himself for being such a weak man. 

"So, you want me to tell you about me, I will, this way you have all of me. When you, humans, know everything about someone or something you lose interest in them anyway, so," you shrug. 

Ivar looked at you, not quite sure he understood clearly what you meant, but you got something wrong, he was sure.

"But not here, I want you to tell me more about you when you ready, when we'll be on raid, watching the ocean on our boats or... I don't know," 

"I'm a magician, I was called Merlin a long time ago, in Camelot. I served a King there and people depended on us, him and me. But humans are so fragile, kingdoms even more... And around six hundred years later, I end up here."

"A-a magician, you're six hundred years old..." His brows rose, looking at the table, then further away. He waggled into his chair for a moment.

Here we go again, he will either try to use your magic or either he will let you and the woman go because he got what he wanted, humans are predictable.

"You've chosen Y/n as a new identity, or is it also your name?" His question eventuated in your brows to join, while your eyes meet his. They were filled with something you couldn't surely describe, envy? curiosity? care?

"It's my name. Merlin is my magician name, but-" you stopped. 

"What?"

"What are you doing, is that the only thing you want to know?"

"Why would I want to know anything else?" He retorted, glancing at you as if you asked the most stupid thing he's heard in a long time. He grabbed your cup and his and purred some more ale in them.

"Since I've seen you're not so drunk. I truly thought you were somewhere else," he declared.

"I'm a ma-gi-cian," you articulated, nearing your upped body to him over the table. 

"And I'm a cripple," he lightly responded.

"Yeah, I sure did notice that," you choked on your drink, leaning back against the chair. He glared at you, a wrinkle appeared on his forehead when he knit his brows. 

"Stop frowning, wrinkles don't match your charming fa-" You begin, stretching your arm to his face, the tip of your fingers, fondling his cheek. 

As soon as you realized how close you were to him, you stopped and looked into his eyes as if you were searching for something in there. Ivar looked back at you with the same intensity, until you started to move backward. He grabbed your wrist and maintained your hand on his cheek.

"Y/n," his lips succeed at spelling, but you "Shhh-" him while sliding your gingers on his mouth, which was now the center of your attention. 

He swallowed sharply and you choose that exact moment to peck his lips, gauging for his reaction, he looked into your eyes, then your lips and crashed his on yours in a hurry. Both your hands joined his cheeks that you stroke before slowly sliding to his mane, tucking your fingers in his braids. 

The sparkles in your lower belly spread to your arms, shoulders, and eventually your face and head, making you feel dizzy. Or was it the need of air in your lungs that made you feel giddy? You pulled away from his lips and took a deep breath before kissing him more passionately this time, needier. His response was to place a hand on your neck and pull you towards him even more whereas his free one dawdles on each part of your body it encountered during its course to your hips.

"I've lost my magic," you let out, in between two kisses. "I'm sorry," he responded before coming for another kiss. You move your head back and he stopped moving, confusion animating his eyes. "That's all you have to say?" You questioned, a bit taken aback. He stayed silent, not wanting to say anything wrong.

"You think too much," he finally let out, pulling you close to him. He pecks your nose, making you smile. 

Ivar needed more of you but wasn't so sure how to dance with you as anything could trigger you for no specific reason. He'll try to get closer with humor, as it seems you quite liked sarcasm.

"What are you doing," you giggled in response to his teeth lightly closing around the point of your nose. You lightly hit his chest trying to get away his grip but he held you tight.

“But you really need to let go of those women, they are the last magicians’ left of Camelot,” you said out of nowhere. “Wha-t?” He roared.

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