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So as far as I understand, “Ivar Ragnarsson” is correct because ninth century Vikings didn’t do last names the way we do. But, on the show you hear Lagertha call him “Ivar Lothbrok, son of Ragnar” and I’m not sure why they did that. Maybe to make it more accessible to the audience.
And then “Ivar the Boneless” is his name once he’s famous (think of the phrase “make a name for yourself”) which they preview a lot on the show but Ivar’s not owning it yet. It seems to be currently Ragnar’s prophecy and Sigurd’s insult.
Sure makes for a headache when tagging on tumblr!! I’ve used all of them too, I tend to go with whatever fits the mood of my piece since the show isn’t any more consistent.
Hold Me Down - a Vikings fic
Pairing: Ivar Lothbrok and an original character (female)
Rating: pretty tame right now, will probably get explicit fast in future updates
Words: 1775 in chapter one
Ao3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9214925
Summary: OC Sigrunn is Harald’s daughter, staying as a hostage in Aslaug’s household to insure the Lothbroks against treachery. Our cruel little Ivar finds ways to take advantage.
Comments: I’m not exactly sure how far I’m taking this since the characters are underage by today’s standards. And before I realized that, my ideas were going in the sick & twisted direction. PLEASE let me know what you think if you liked this chapter, yeah?
Excerpt:
The last time my father brought me to Kattegat, the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok had all been boys, save for Bjorn, who had left with the men on their raid of Paris. I, the daughter of King Harald, was to stay in the home of Queen Aslaug as an “honored guest” until they returned. I knew even at the tender age of eight what that really meant. My father’s ambitions to become King of all Norway were no secret, and I was to remain amongst Ragnar’s family as a hostage while the fighting men embarked. A deterrent against any potential treachery.
I remember being struck almost blind by Queen Aslaug’s beauty and grace, daughter of the legendary heroes. There was no doubt in my mind she carried giant’s blood and wielded any number of magical powers. My childish self wished to do anything that might please her, to find any way to become more like her. One way I knew I could get her to look on me with a smile was to be kind to her youngest son, Ivar. He was petulant, selfish, and cruel, but I attended to his needs and played with him when no one else would, all to earn the affection of a queen who was only one step away from goddess in my eyes.
Little Ivar learned quickly that he had my loyalty, though he seemed ignorant of its source. When he realized I wasn’t going to tell on him, he did nasty things to me when no one was looking, biting me so hard I would bruise, pulling my hair until I begged him for mercy. I hated it but always found some way to forgive him. The queen helped me in that regard, praising me for noticing how special Ivar was, and for indulging his “tempers” with such grace.
In the years that passed after Father and Uncle returned from Paris and I rejoined my family at Vestfold, I was able to allow myself to hate Ivar and the way he treated me, and to let go of my childish worship of Aslaug. I had grown into a graceful and tall young woman myself by the time Father informed me that we were returning to Kattegat, this time so he could join Bjorn Lothbrok in a grand journey to a distant southern sea.
My father had made no hostile moves on Ragnar’s domain in all these years, even though the king himself was mysteriously absent, and yet my presence as a hostage was apparently still required. I thought I was ready to put the past behind me; none of us were children now. Certainly I could keep to myself this time around, bow politely to Queen Aslaug and stay out of Ivar’s way.
I had not reckoned on Ivar the Boneless growing into such a handsome young man. Whatever plans I had were shattered when he laid those intense blue eyes, so like his mythic father’s, upon me as my family interrupted his feast. My father greeted his older brothers first, insulting the young prince. As for me, standing demurely behind my father and uncle, all plans to remain cold and distant were lost when Ivar’s mouth twisted in a wide, devilish smile, so like his mother’s, and he called my name over the noise of the crowd.
“Is that Sigrunn? Come here and embrace your old friend!”
Hold Me Down - Chapter 3
Fandom: Vikings (History channel)
Pairing: Ivar the Boneless and an original character (female)
Rating: now Explicit 18+ only please
Warnings: abusive relationship, BDSM themes, knife play, acrophobia
Summary: OC Sigrunn is King Harald’s daughter, staying as a hostage in Aslaug’s household to insure the Lothbroks against treachery. Our cruel little Ivar finds ways to take advantage.
Start from the beginning: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9214925/chapters/20900195
Link to Chapter 3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9214925/chapters/21081041
Excerpt: I head Ivar pulling himself closer to me again. “Arsehole,” I spit, without opening my eyes. “Stay away.”
“Do not be angry with me, Sigrunn,” Ivar said, a placating tone in his voice. “It was only a joke.”
“It was not funny.”
“Okay. It was not funny. But it was worth it to feel you cling to me like that.” I could hear from the way his voice changed that he was leaning over me now, but still I refused to open my eyes.
“You are still an arsehole.”
He grunted, and I could imagine the shrug that went with the noise. Then I felt his breath on my cheek. “Let me make it up to you.”
Hold Me Down - Chapter 2
Fandom: Vikings (History channel)
Pairing: Ivar the Boneless and an original character (female)
Rating: at chapter two we’re still Teen/Mature, will get explicit in the next update
Summary: OC Sigrunn is King Harald’s daughter, staying as a hostage in Aslaug’s household to insure the Lothbroks against treachery. Our cruel little Ivar finds ways to take advantage.
Link to Chapter 1: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9214925/chapters/20900195
Link to Chapter 2: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9214925/chapters/20951657
Excerpt: “Prove it.”
I tipped my head, asking for clarification.
“Prove that you feel something other than pity for me.” Ivar’s eyes were raw, though he tried to hide that behind an upthrusted chin.
“I told you,” I said through gritted teeth, “I do. I feel hatred. I feel anger.” I wanted to stroke his cheek until the torment left his eyes, until that muscle in his jaw relaxed.
“Then why did you sit down here when I asked? Why have you not gone off to bed?”
I looked down at my hands, unwilling to admit defeat.
“Let me kiss you.” He said it and it hung there. He did not move, because I did not move. A good hunter knows when to lie still and let his prey come to him.
I tilted my head slightly, looked at him from the corner of my eye. He was solemn and expectant.
“I will know the answer, if I kiss you,” Ivar said. “I will know by the way that you kiss me back.”
My heart was racing. He was so close. When had he gotten so close to me?Ivar’s fingers ran oh so gently up my arm, swept my hair off my shoulder and began playing over the back of my neck. “If I don’t like the answer that your lips give me, I will leave you alone, how about that.”
I turned my face up to his, too tempted by his promises and his wide, full mouth. “All right, kiss me then,” I said, almost defiantly. I am Viking; I will go boldly into Hel.