Just a few little imagines.
Add a little bit of oneshots.
May include a bit of Hvitserk, who knows.
Maybe throw in some of Heahmund.
I will be accepting requests.
It will always say completed, but I will still update on here now and then.
I'm not s...
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Words: 840
__________
Crouched down beside Ivar, you mocked surprise when he showed you the new boat Floki made him. He was still a young boy, one significantly different from the rest. However, he seemed to be the only son of Ragnar you liked. You could tell he would be a smart boy.
After you had talked with the youngest and watched his other siblings, you returned to the great hall. Ivar as always was sitting in your arms, continuing to babble until Aslaug came into view. Unlike a slave, such as yourself, her clothes were clean and bright. Her honey-coloured waves of hair were nothing compared to your short, messy braids of (H/C).
You had to say she looked frustrated. Tears were brewing against her grey eyes, her cheeks tinted a deep red and her expression was erratic.
"Give me my son" she seethed when she reached you.
Without warning, Ivar was snatched from your hold before she stormed away.
One Hour Earlier
"What is it?" Aslaug questioned, knotting her arms across her chest. Ragnar, her husband, was sitting before her. Mentally furthering the distance between them. She believed he had been different since they bought you as a slave. She did suspect he would find interest in a young and beautiful girl such as yourself. Your (E/C) held a subtle light that screamed maternal and obedient. However, the features that made up your attractive appearance said otherwise. They were of a seductress, a woman with power. Intimidation was not what she felt but, it was the threat of your existence.
"I don't understand what you mean" Ragnar replied, shifting his eyes to his wife.
"The slave, what is she to you?" Aslaug questioned.
Her nature became harsh, quick to retaliate as built up frustration was allowed a release.
"Same as what she is to you, our sons even",
"I seriously doubt that" she hissed.
"What more do you expect me say other than the truth? That I love her?" He suggested, while raising a blonde eyebrow in her direction.
He and Aslaug proceeded into a heated argument. Honestly, he didn't know what he felt for the young slave, you. He saw you with Ivar, Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd. And most of the time, he couldn't help but wish they were your own children, that you were his queen.
"Yes, that's the truth. Don't think I'm a fool... I see how you look at her" Aslaug bit back. Her teeth were bared and her cheeks began to grow warm with her rapid heart beat and pumping blood.
Ragnar chose to say nothing more. Not in fear of losing but of revealing something he wanted no one to know. You were young, practically a second mother or sister to his sons. However, he was king of Kattegat. Who could stop him?
__________
You were suddenly pulled away from work. At first you fought and struggled against it, until you noticed who's hand was holding you. Ragnar pulled you so close your noses were grazing each other's. His grip was tight, tight enough so that you couldn't escape. But, still it didn't cause much pain.
His heavy breaths fanned over your chapped lips, his blue orbs buried into your own. And for once, you were falling into a desperate infatuation, a dangerous lust. It hit you like Thor's lightening. Was this in fact, the will of the Gods, you thought.
Your back arched into him, your chest pressed firmly up against his. At your unconscious movements, a smirk played at his lips. All the while, they hovered over you own, taunting you. Eventually his eyes left yours and trailed down your face to your mouth. And you couldn't help but burst out with asking:
"What about Aslaug?".
He understood your worry. You were only a slave and she was a queen. But, what exactly could she do? Therefore, in reply he shook his head and closed the space between you.
His lips met yours in a rhythmic dance. They blended together into a care-filled and graceful dance.
Ragnar only desired to kiss you. Find out if his lie was in fact the truth. And low and behold, his suspicions were correct. A warmth erupted from his chest, a sensation he thought he could only feel with Lagertha all those years ago. You were delicate and precious. A treasure he lusted to find. He was searching all across to realise it was just under his nose. At this point, he realised how ironic that proved to be.
His hand cupped the back of your head while his free arm coiled around your waist. He wanted you closer, he wanted to take you then and there. However, he refrained from doing so.
Your hands placed themselves against his cheeks, releasing a foreign warmth upon your palms. You didn't know if you desired this, or it was in the heat of the moment. But, you couldn't deny it felt right. And Ragnar only knew why. Because he loved you and you would love him.
