King Ragnar Imagines

Worry

A simple discussion over raiding had turned to a spiteful disagreement between Lagertha and Ragnar. You sat in the middle, fiddling with fingers of fat rings wondering when it would stop. Lagertha thought she was right. Ragnar knew he was right. It was a clusterfuck.

"(Y/N) can easily lead her warriors and shield maidens beside Bjorn." Lagertha countered back after Ragnar rebuffed her suggestion.

"It is too close to the front. This is (Y/N)'s first time. They will take to her out first." Ragnar barks.

"Then let them try! Is she not here to fight? Is she not an earl just as you once were?!" She says through interlocked teeth. Her wild defiance falls over Ragnar's ears. In seconds, his cup slams on the table laid out before the both of you.

"I have the last word!"

Lagertha's cracked lips spread to spit out something undoubtedly hateful when something, you aren't sure what, cools over her feisty attitude. "I see what it is." She starts.

"The real reason King Ragnar will not let you take a portion of the army is that he would like you to keep you 'safe'." She draws the words with a slight bob of her head. You took a piece of salted fish as Lagertha's willowy hand reached out to curl one of your sweat-matted curls around her forefinger. She leaned in against your neck, puffing hot little breaths. The shock of having Lagertha, a well respected shield maiden, so close sought the heat to your core. You wanted to be just like her.

"I know. But what do you think?" You turn your head, brushing your cheek against the blonde braids that weaved down the side of her head.

"You should lead a force." She says, pausing momentarily. "The gods will smile upon you." Lagertha leans back to sit upright.

"Until the day comes where you fall out of favour with them. But we don't speak about that." Ragnar says. His cup hovers against his lips, waiting for you to say something.

When you do, you ask him back to a private space away from the earls and chaos of the day. Immediately your lips push onto his in a gentle kiss. One kiss lead to another. Your lips meld along his– and right when he thought you forgot about Lagertha's words, you lean away from him.

"Why are you so tense, my love?" You ask, gliding your hands up his broad chest. His muscles twitch instinctively as if he's ready to pounce. Or beat something. Or maybe both.

He opts for pressing into your body, not minding the way your hands gripped him tight. He steals a soft kiss.

"It is too soon." He mumbles while drawing his hands up your legs to the small of your back. Too soon for you to raid? Too soon for you to fight? You didn't want to give into fear of something being too hard. You slide away from his lips.

"I don't want to be just a shieldmaiden. I want to be greater than her, greater than Brunhilde. I won't be able to do that hiding behind my husband's warriors." You say with your hands now around his neck.

At your words, Ragnar's nose dips down against your neck. Almost as if he could hide from doing what he knew he had to. "I know."

Your thumb strokes the side of his shaved head along the dark ink that made up his tattoos. "Then let me fight not as your wife, but as your earl." You suggest.

Maybe it was a suggestion, but Ragnar perceived it as a threat. He could easily lose you like he lost Lagertha. The wrong move in a split second of selfishness could prove disastrous. He had to do it. But his mind screamed out: You aren't Lagertha. You are inexperienced. What if- what if- what if?

The light freckles on Ragnar's nose scrunch up. "Bjorn will be beside you this time." He grumbles. "And next... you go alone."

At long last, you smile. The validation you needed and craved in something as simple as this. If you did well, as you knew you would, you would soon be on your way to accomplishing your dream.