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It had been some time since your feet touched Earth's surface. You missed so much about the world above. The wave of flowers through lush green grass when you ran your toes through a valley. Your brothers fighting with one another about whatever the hell it was this time. Or the scene when Hvitserk took to his chariot and cast away the dim night for favor of the glimmering bright sun. It had also been some time since you saw your mother, Lagertha. Though you could imagine how she might be raging at Ragnar now.
It wasn't pleasant here below the Earth's surface at the heart of the its crust. You sat in the bed chambers you shared with him, tears dripping on the stem of a lovely Narcissus that hadn't aged a lick in the last month or so. Your mind couldn't help but to wander back to that night so many nights ago.
The valley trembled underneath your foot where you gathered fragrant Narcissus for a fat bouquet. The bouquet was for your brother, the sun god Hvitserk and his marriage to a wonderfully bright nymph. At first it seemed like a light earthquake, but when the ground parted into a flightless sensation under your feet, you realized that it wasn't just a normal tremble. Just like it was never just a mere Narcissus. Your ears were greeted by the powerful clopping of a fleet of horses, but when you saw his feisty blue eyes caught in yours, your lips parted in a breathless scream.
He cast his gloved hand out of his chariot and dragged you inside by your arm with moments to spare. The earth came over your bodies like a great wave. The god of the underworld turned his sights back upon the dim light at the end of a channel where screams, laughs and jaunty voices all came together as one. He turned down at the hip, dragging you from the cold floor of his chariot up between his broad arms.
"You might own my heart, but now I own you."
The sheer burgundy curtains spread open, parting for the King to walk inside. He strode with his crutch clanking the dark floor with every step closer. You couldn't bare look up at him. To see his cocky blue eyes or the smug smile that bobbed with his head, pleased with what he had done. It wasn't what you needed when you had so looked forward to seeing your brother Hvitserk marry and how happy that would have made your father. His cool digits tilted up your slight chin.
"What can I do to stop your tears?" He asks. You clench the Narcissus in your fingers, drifting your eyes away from his own and along his tightly braided hair.
"I wanted to see Hvitserk marry. He was going to marry a nymph you know." You suggest one alternative. The suggestion makes the King hum gently before he finally gives in.
"If you eat, I will take you and you will come back. But I can't bring the beloved (Y/N) up there so skinny," He barters with you, revealing a fat pomegranate in his hand.
"You... are telling the truth, Ivar? You would really take me to his wedding?" You pat the silky fabric of your bed. When he sits, you curve your spine into him with a bright smile. You spent a good amount of the time sobbing relentlessly, but by the end of the month, it became light sobs. You were so tired of crying.
"I never lie. And not to my Queen." Ivar sets the pomegranate in his hand. You can't help but to squeal in glee, throwing your arms around him and running your lips together in an all too eager kiss. The force of your body throws him over onto the bed.
"I am so happy!" You exclaim. He cherishes your body melded against his too much to tell you to eat the pre-peeled fruit that now sits in your hand. You nuzzle back into the side of his neck, exhaling a ragged breath.
"This is why I fell in love with you." Ivar smiles.
He almost felt bad about giving you the pomegranate. Almost.
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