Vikings Imagines

Ivar and his princess

Warning: mature content

The ships filled with our soldiers were on the horizon. Excitement and dread fill my belly as they creep closer in the bay. I make myself busy with servants tasks, trying to busy my mind in any way possible. If I don't keep myself occupied, I'll just replay my last moments with Ivar over and over. Picking apart every look, every movement, every word. I told him of my feelings for him, and he laughed in my face before boarding the boats and leaving to raid. I told him I love him, and he paused, and then LAUGHED. By the Gods, how humiliating it was. How it still is. Ivar and I have known each other since we were children. My father is a Götaland King, a fierce warlord known for his skill in combat. He brings me to Kattegat every spring for the raids and leaves me here to wait for his return. My father trusts the friends and family of Ragnar Lothbrok with my life more than he does his own advisors. Ragnar has no interest in our kingdom or starting a civil war, only about raiding foreign land. So I'm much safer here than I am at home, alone and vulnerable. Even now as a woman, he still insists it. Ivar and I spent our summers together as I was housed in the great hall as a child. We played together, we confided in each other, and we grew to have an actual friendship. Ivar has never been open with anyone, but I'm as close as it got to a normal friendship with Ivar.

I'm brought out of my thoughts when a servant touches my arm and looks into my eyes kindly. "You mustn't worry yourself with this work, Princess. You should be readying for the feast. Your father, Ragnar, and the sons of Ragnar are nearly home. The warriors will expect to see you feasting with them, as it will surely boost their spirits after such a long voyage." She rubbed my arm before taking the bucket from my hands and continuing the job I was barely focused on. On my way back to my cabin, I spot the crowd gathering at the docks. The ships are nearly here. I see Ivar sitting next to his father, perched on a chest of gold. Quickly, I look away and pull the hood of my cloak up, concealing my reddening cheeks. The wind whips my hair around in my hood as I hurry back to my Kattegat home.

Once inside the cabin, I hurry over to the fireplace as one of my servants comes behind me and removes my cloak for me. I hover my hands over the fire, warming them up. Winter hasn't come yet, but the temperatures are dropping. I stand from my chair, and move to the chest of clothes by my bed. Searching through the brightly colored fabrics, I pull out a blood red dress with shining gold embroidered flowers stitched on the sleeves, and a black fox lined cloak. My servants brush and re-braid my hair, adorning it with gold strings and cuffs.

Just as I put my cloak on, I hear the roar of the crowd outside as the warriors arrive off the boats and make their way to the great hall. Footsteps pound by, I can hear gold coins clinking, and the townspeople yelling and singing with joy. I step outside, and watch as wives reunite with their husbands, shield maiden's hug the children they left behind, and warriors banging on their shields in celebration. I can see Ivar's chariot coming around the corner, his horse moving at a slow paced gallop alongside his father and brothers. I look down, hoping he won't see me.