Faint Of Heart [Ivar x Reader]

Chapter 14

After about two hours of the artist's work on your arm and him piercing your skin with a sharp needle made of bone and a small hammer, you only had one question in mind.

Why did everything about Vikings have to be painful and bloody?

No matter how much you tried to focus on the knife you held in your other hand, the constant pain was still there, distracting you. The artist Fiske had asked you multiple times by now whether you wanted to take a break but each time you had rejected, telling him to keep going.

It was strange, getting ink under your skin. You were sure if the ladies at your court could see you now, they would probably die of shock but you did not mind it.

"And what else? Goats, cattle-"

"I would not know Ubbe, that's why I told you and Hvitserk to handle that."

"Throwing a feast is not exactly easy, especially one this big."

"We have a big thing to celebrate after all," their voices sounded much closer now but you didn't even raise your head from the table where you were scratching your initials on , even though your heartbeat sped up. Soon enough, the door opened and their conversation stopped abruptly. Fiske stopped his movement but you still kept running the knife's tip on the table stubbornly, until Ivar talked.

"...What is this?"

You lifted your glances off the table, arching a brow, "Tradition?" You asked calmly and Ubbe looked between you, dumbfounded.

"Um-"

"Y/N, that tends to be painful."

You narrowed your eyes, as if you hadn't been wincing in pain for the last two hours,

"Oh does it? Funny, I haven't noticed."

"What is even the-" Ivar started, taking a step inside the room but as soon as he did, the falcon flapped her wings, her eyes fixated on Ivar. He stopped dead on his tracks and a wide smile pulled at Ubbe's lips,

"Freyja is angry at you."

"Ubbe-"

"She is. She sent that falcon, so let's hope tonight's feast helps you, otherwise you're doomed."

You half wanted to ask, but you managed to control yourself before you reached out to run your fingers over the falcon's soft feathers.

"You can stop now."

"You know Freyja's anger is about one of the worst three things that can happen to a king, right?" Ubbe drawled, having way too much fun with it and Ivar gritted his teeth before he nodded at the door.

"Leave us, Fiske."

"He's not finished yet."

"He can come back later." Ivar dismissed him and turned to Ubbe, "Do you mind?"

"Should I come in if I hear you yell, when the falcon attacks you?"

"She will not attack me."

"I would not be so sure," Ubbe chuckled and closed the door behind him as Fiske left the room. Ivar dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes focused on you as you looked down at your forearm. The feathers of the wings were very clear on your skin, and it looked....

Beautiful.

Mesmerizing, even.

Ivar's gaze followed yours and he stared at the shape of the wings on your arm for a while before he gulped.

"I did not know you planned to get...that."

"I did." You shrugged as you stood up, then walked to the falcon. "Anything you wished to speak with me, my king?"