King Ragnar Imagines

The Boatbuilder's Daughter I

The boat quaked as you snuggled up underneath Bjorn's heavy furs. Winds kick the boat along heavy and dark waters, rocking side to side under the rain fall. It ran down the covering draped over the boat.

"Are you cold?" Bjorn says, pulling the furs around you. You can't exactly tell how long its been since you've been thrown off course, but Ragnar must know. You peep out away from the reassuring warmth and safety of Bjorn's chest and look out to find Ragnar beside you. His arm rests against a crate of ravens. His forceful eyes are glowering at you as if you just bounded out of a hole like a rabbit. A small rabbit in an insignificant burrow with the wolf, Ragnar, looking apt and ready to eat you whole. Don't run, his eyes read.

"A little chill." You reply, stiffening as if you are ready to bolt. But where? The boat is small with hulking furniture, broad chested men, and fearsome women. Bjorn rearranges himself, wrapping your body in his. Chest to chest and legs draping over his, its comfortable. As comfortable as it could be.

Beside you Ragnar draws a loud breath, exhaling through his nose like the might dragon Fafnir. He sounds angry. It causes chills to careen down your spine. You hate the effect that Ragnar has upon you, but one way or another, nothing can be done. You dip your head back against Bjorn's chest for the duration of the trip home. As much as you want to rest, you don't doze or close your eyes for even a minute without his sure eyes there, even in the dark.

"He is scary."

You tippytoe along a slab of split wood with your hands extending outwards. Beside you, your father Floki sat upright. He was carving a small figurine of wood.

"Ragnar is as scary as you make him, (Y/N)." He says.

"Then why does he watch me on raids?" You twirl about in a circle, fluttering your skirt around. Floki steadies you from falling with a hand tight around your calf. The wind was strong.

"Aslaug can't watch him there." He laughs. But you knew Aslaug was watching you. You would have rather have Bjorn be the creepy one. At least you could manage Bjorn.

"She prefers watching and threatening me with empty words." You say, dropping down with your hand on the wood.

"She does that to all the pretty ones," Floki rolls his eyes. To all the pretty ones... you shove him playfully.

"But that doesn't explain anything..." You sigh, drawing your fingers up to Floki's face, curving your fingers about his high cheekbones. Your father carefully grasps your hands, looking out to still water.

"He wants you. What else can it be?"

It didn't register. You grew up with Ragnar and now... he felt like this? Nothing made sense anymore.

There was something so relaxing about sailing on Kattegat's vast waters. You could sail along for days and never reach the end. Only more water. It was a good place to clear your mind, or at least, it would have been if not for the larger sail raised high with soaring raven fluttering in the wind. Ragnar.

"This is not my life," You muttered, setting your oars into the waters. Push against the waters and you would be pulled somewhere else. Father made a simple boat for you, not a damn ship that cut through the waters like that thing was doing. It was inevitable.

"(Y/N)!"

Gods. Why? You cleared your throat, realizing it was him who called out to you. It was Ragnar who was gazing at you over the sturdy edge of his boat while yours buckled with incoming waves. He casted down a line, connected with a heavy bad near the bottom into your boat. You quaked with the added weight. Ragnar himself hopped over the edge of his mighty boat with the rope as his anchor. You have to wonder what sort of rope burn he might get, but look around to find Aslaug isn't in sight.

"Sssh! I can't be seen with you!" You say shrilly. Ragnar's foot steadies itself on the edge of your boat, leaning in. His massive arms hold the line to his own boat.

"Then come with me."

You shrunk back at the thought, holding the oars tightly in your hands. Hands unlike Aslaug's beautiful slight hands... your hands are more weathered, enjoying learning underneath your father. Ragnar winds the rope once more under his arm before cocking an eyebrow at you.

"The more you fight, the more likely she'll be to find us." Ragnar said. He was right... you knew he was right. Aslaug's women were around. They would see you. You scramble to the edge of the boat, rocking and waving until you stand. Ragnar offers his hand out but you're quick to shun it, digging the plantar surface of your foot onto the wood as you hike yourself up over the side. You all but fell in when Ragnar's boots slammed beside your hands, decorated with the double entwined bodies of Jormungandr. He bent down, dragging yourself up by underneath your arms. You grunt, looking up to the sky. He's playing games... Loki must have been chuckling away.

"If Aslaug catches you with me..." You start, running your hands down through your sea salt kissed hair. "She will-"

"Do what? Aslaug is no shieldmaiden. Not like Lagertha... or you." He sasses off. He's closer now... you tread back, your slamming your head and back both against the mast.

"I... have no interest in being anything other than a boat builder." You shift as if it might keep him off you. You knew he missed Lagertha. Everyone in Kattegat did.

"But you are." Ragnar closes his arms around your body. Chest to chest, Ragnar's pins you back against the firm wood of the mast. Nowhere left to go. Ragnar's fingertips ghost along the outside of your flowing dress. There was nothing less conspicuous than being on a boat with Ragnar... floating nowhere in particular.

"Maybe... but the gods gave you Aslaug for a reason. Not me." You began, eating your words when Ragnar pulls your leg up to hook around the delicious curve of his hips. He juts his body against yours, rolling himself against you.

"Who am I?" Ragnar asks.

Redundant question. A farmer, a lover, a father, a son... a king... there were many titles.

"King Ragnar... beloved by the All-Father." You croak somewhat, tense in his hold. Ragnar's hand waves off the remainder of your sentence.

"That is right. King. I answer to no one. You are faithful to me (Y/N), just like your father."

His words fall in your stomach far more heavily than they should have. He was using Floki against you. But... "I am faithful to the gods, Ragnar, and my Bjorn." You say with words that clench your stomach tight. Almost sickly so.

Ragnar's fingers draw your chin up, angling towards his face. "What of Bjorn?" He says, drawing his face closer to yours. Short puffs of his breath tickled your ready lips.

Either you would say it or Ragnar would find out what it was. "We were... interested." You say, clutching the fabric of his scratchy top. There was only a second before his lips were on yours, pulling you apart with kisses so strong, you could hardly take a breath. He washed over you like the waves on the shore, smelling of open fires and the salt of the sea. Your leg tucks him closer, finding the back of his braids. With a sharp tug, you pull him back. Ragnar grunts sharply, grazing his teeth across yours. Your lip pops from his teeth in a way that you are sure might swell later.

"Not anymore." Ragnar groans. And you hate that he is right. You weren't interested in the younger Lothbrok anymore. You wanted the King.