Vikings Imagines

Becoming Ivar's Part 1

I smile widely at Ivar across the great hall as I watch him charm my father, the King of Svealand. He takes notice of me staring, and smiles back with a wink. Gods, he's so beautiful. I stand and watch him as he makes his peers become absolutely enamored by him. It's like they don't have a choice. King Ivar has not only proven himself as a leader and strategist, but he's also got charm down to a science. Even though people know his reputation and history, they can't help but fall for him when they meet him. He's... irresistible. To all. I know first hand. When my father brought me along to Kattegat in the spring I was ecstatic. I have never been a shield maiden, but my lust for travel and politicking consumes me. Being a princess is more than a title to me. I love using it to my advantage. You can imagine my disappointment, and, well, rage when I found out I was coming as a pawn rather than serving my country. Ivar told my father to bring his only daughter with him to Kattegat as a sign of good faith during and after battle. My father obliged, wanting his revenge on Halfdan for something that happened ages ago. I was absolutely furious. I trudged around, stayed silent, and avoided all of the kings, queens, and sons of Ragnar. That is until Ivar noticed me. After my father left, Ivar noticed me in the great hall during a feast. He made his way to me and grabbed me, whispering "it's nothing personal Princess. It's just part of the end game." in my ear, before flashing me an all consuming smile and walking away.  I've been hooked since that night. Ivar and I became close very quickly as he charmed his way into my head like he does everyone else. Being the same age, we have much to bond over. I detested him for so long, but now... here I am. Fawning over him from across the great hall, as I often do.

Ivar is holding a cup of mead, laughing with the big men surrounding him. He's perched against a table, leaning back slightly. He's dressed in all black, his hair freshly braided towards the back of his head into a ponytail down his neck. His eyes are so beautiful in the fire light, so blue and full of life. He takes a sip from his cup, his eyes flickering back to me. We hold eye contact, and I swear it's like the whole world disappears. Ivar raises his hand and motions towards me, beckoning me over to him.

I look up at the women surrounding me and politely excuse myself as they talk amongst themselves around the hearth. I begin walking towards him, smoothing out my dress and hair. I mentally thank myself for thinking to wear this dress. The black fabric is snug, accentuating my curves. The bust is low, showing a good amount of cleavage that's being pushed up by a black leather corset around waist. The shoulders are cut out to reveal the tattooed skin beneath.

When I arrive to the group of men, Ivar pushes them aside, clearing a path for me to stand by him. He smiles brightly at me, taking my hand and placing me beside him. His arm stretches around my shoulder as rest there. His thumb moves over the skin of my shoulder and stops for a moment before stroking the skin, sending chills down my arm. I look up at him with a smile.

Ivar clears his throat before ordering a servant to fetch me a cup of mead. Once the cup is in my hands, he raises for a toast.

"People of Kattegat!" His voice bellies over the music, laughter, and conversation. The great hall falls silent. "Let us thank the Gods for our victory, our home, and the company we keep!" He proclaims, squeezing my shoulder as he said the last part. The entire great hall watches with smiles as his cup lingers in the air. "Skol!" He yells, taking a drink.