Vikings imagines

Ivar - Forsaken Roads

I've been wanting to write this for a long time and I'm honestly in love with the idea of it, so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.

All translations are into Icelandic even though I think there's only one or two, even so I do not speak Icelandic, so it's all google translate so it most likely isn't right.

Extra Gifs are from For Honor, Assassin's Creed Origins and The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc. (Great movie, I total recommend it.)

I might give this a sort two, I don't know yet though. It depends on what you guys think and if you like it at all.

Well enjoy my loves!

-

The battle was growing fierce and you were growing angry at the resistance the heathens were showing towards you.

They fought harder then anyone you had ever seen, you should of been nervous but for some reason you weren't. You push on with your men, taking out as many as you could.

Your loss was growing bigger and some of the men were losing faith in the battle and being more careless with their moves. The heathens saw that and took advantage of it quickly.

"Come men, fight for God for he is our savior!" You scream atop your horse as your men charge, taking out plenty of heathens to make a dent in their defenses.

You fought from atop your horse and found them rather careless when they ran up to you, their armor was weak and easy to impale, just how you liked it.

As you continue to fight you notice an odd part in the courtyard, a flipped over chariot sits with a few men guarding it carefully, taking hits for whoever they were protecting. "Attack, go for the chariot!" You scream and point your sword right at the small group of men, seeing it as weak spot.

The group of men defending the man part slightly and you're finally able to see this fearless ruler many have told you about, and just a look from him makes you uncomfortable.

He rips an axe from one of your fallen men's chest and flings it at another man, hitting him right in the throat.

He laughs after the man drops to the ground, enjoying the death of a soldier. His eyes scan over the battle, his tongue licking his lips clean of the blood as he watches more men fall to his warriors.

You just stare at him, a small scowl on your lips as he continues to laugh like a mad man. You understood why he was feared, not that he scared you, but you could see why no one wanted to be face to face with the heathen.

Then the moment happens, his bright eyes lock with yours. Blood drips down his damp face as an axe is flipped from one hand to another. A rather murderous smile is on his face, almost as if he was inviting you over.