Ivar the Boneless Imagines

Valkyrie

You had done it now. For the sake of the Ragnarssons you fought against everything you knew was true. At the mercy of your god and master Odin, you knew you were fucked. The skulls were heavy at the end of strings of human intestines, weighing in favor of Ivar the Boneless but more importantly, Hvitserk. Whom was meant to be charred to ash on a pyre outstretching to the heavens. Except, he wasn't.

"You let them flank Hvitserk because you were so foolish as to not listen to me!" You chased Ivar into his room, your feet bouncing along the ground.

"He would have been fine. It was my decision, not yours. It doesn't concern you... shieldmaiden." Ivar grit his teeth as he looked up to you. An amazon of a woman, you stood several feet above of him. Your wavy black locks were sticky by blood, matter together.

"He wouldn't have been!" Your eyes widened like black pools, reaching out to grasp Ivar by his leather collar. You lift him up to your eyes despite the fact that his knife is at your tawny throat. "He was fated to die. Do you understand, son of Ragnar? Another Ragnarsson's blood would be on YOUR hands."

"The gods chose who die." Ivar remarks. His blade digs into your throat but no blood is drawn as hard as he presses. Bewildered at the lack of blood, he looks to you skeptically, drawing knife and head back.

"No we— Valkyries claim the lives on the field." You say.

The wheels seem to turn in Ivar's because as he looks at you, it's with renewed vigor. He caught your stumble and flush, the way you groan in frustration. "Valkyrie." He says, wayward eyes traveling over your curves. "Of course."

As you dry him down, you know he understands. Your hands and his hands fall to respective sides as you turn away from him. You shuffle awkwardly out. The soft plumes of detached feathers at your shoulders reassure him. No wonder other men ran away from your side.

He had a Valkyrie in his midst.