Just a few little imagines.
Add a little bit of oneshots.
May include a bit of Hvitserk, who knows.
Maybe throw in some of Heahmund.
I will be accepting requests.
It will always say completed, but I will still update on here now and then.
I'm not s...
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Words: 2094 A/N: So I may or may not been fangirling so hard I now have loads of gifs of Alex on my camera role. I call it my unhealthy obsession, because it's my first time having an actual fandom and I don't know what to do.... Don't tell me I'm the only one. But, then again, do you know who I am? I'm a girl addicted to Ivar the Boneless/Alex Høgh Andersen.
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You were young. In the terms of what you were. A mentality of a child, yet to learn what was right and what was wrong. And how do children learn such a thing? Through stories of course.
Your sire told you many things. Four things to be exact.
Follow the Vikings, you will go unnoticed when you feed. Bloodshed follows them like the moon and the sun.
Follow the Vikings, they can't deny a pretty face, especially those who are known to pillage as well as rape.
Follow the Vikings, they tell stories. Full of bravery and adventure. With such a caution, it births a fear. And they believe you to be a monster, something sinister and disfigured in your appearance.
His last words to you were:
"Follow the Vikings, for they do not love like the Saxon man. Humans are such weak creatures. But, do not forget... You were once a Saxon yourself".
Those words echoed in your mind.
Your dress was a chemise, with a leather cord wrapped around your waist. The hem was stained with dirt, along with your bare feet. The length of your (H/C) hair fell past your breasts, untamed but blessed with a natural wave. Eyes, deep set in a cage of playfulness. A child like disposition sat against the (E/C) orbs you possessed.
A tune of ancient times vibrated through the air. It originated from your soft lips. Meanwhile, you walked idly, following the sun as some would say. Forever you were walking with no destination in mind. That was until, you saw the battle.
Two armies spanned across a green plain, surrounded by forest, ditches and hills. Men sat upon horses, their leader grand in his appearance. A huff of frustration forced itself from his mouth. He was unsure, whipping his head along his surroundings. You watched in silence, fearing the light which was soon hidden behind a blanket of grey.
Back and forth the Saxons ran and galloped. Confusion was their friend and certainty was a stranger. Vikings popped up here and there. And that's when you first saw him. Over the hill his chariot came. A lanky man running beside him, starved of air. His eyes were the deepest blue, not enchanting but... Something else. They even made you scared. A women who preyed on men, feasted on blood. In persona, he was just like your sire, you could tell at a first glance. And best of all... He was a viking.
You stalked him for what seemed to be days. Ivar the Boneless. A cripple in body but not in mind. He strategised the first battle you witnessed. He watched over the grounds and plans like a game.
