Snow - Ivar / Hvitserk (Vikings)

VI

Calloused hands made their way beneath your sleeping gown and slid down your back, moving slowly to appreciate the softness of your skin. He tasted like sweet ale, a taste you were accustomed to because Ivar and Hvitserk preferred the same alcohol, and you found yourself sucking his bottom lip because you knew Hvitserk loved it, so you made the assumption that Ivar probably enjoyed it as well.

The feared king of Kattegat, crazed battle strategist, Ivar the boneless, was like a tiny puppy in your hands. He moaned into your mouth as your tongue slid against his teeth, he shuddered and a chill ran down his spine when you raked your fingernails across his bare back.

It should have been a blissful night between husband and wife but none of your tricks were new. Every touch you gave Ivar, you had previously and happily given to Hvitserk.

A pang of guilt hit you as you gently pushed Ivar away. You could admit that you had a physical attraction to Ivar, but you weren't so sure you were willing to give yourself to him, especially with Hvitserk so far away and thinking that you were completely devoted to him despite being married to his younger brother.

"My king, I do want you," you lied, "but I'm not quite ready."

The look of irritation evident on his face quickly passed as he pulled your forehead to his lips.

"I can accept that, we will work on it. For now, I would like to try something with you, it doesn't require you do to anything."

Ivar gently pushed your body to the furs as he slid your sleeping gown up around your stomach. This wasn't new to you either, Hvitserk was gifted with his tongue and you involuntarily curled your toes at the thought of the last time he went down on you.

"You seem eager to receive, and I am certainly ready to please."

Ivar scooted down the bed and situated himself between your legs. He took his time pressing soft kisses up the inside of your thigh. His tongue meeting your skin earned a gasp from you as he explored your sex with his mouth. The familiar motion of a tongue circling and teasing your clit had you gripping the furs and biting your lip as pleasure began to build in your abdomen.

"Say something," his voice was muffled by your soaking folds but you managed to hear his words.

"Please," was all you could manage as Ivar pushed a finger inside you and began to gently pump it in and out of your body.

The introduction of another finger plus intensified motions from his tongue had you moaning and gasping and bucking your hips up into his face to soak up as much pleasure as you possibly could. Your orgasm cut through you quickly, leaving your body trembling slightly.

"Has Hvitserk ever made you feel this way?"

Ivar was sitting up now, licking his lips and looking appreciatively at your nearly naked form.

"No," you lied again for the second time that evening, "he has come close, but he's given me nothing like this."

Truthfully, the orgasm Ivar had given you was nowhere near what Hvitserk was capable of, but you didn't want to cause any trouble for him and you didn't want to embarrass your king.

"We will work on our intimacy, I am willing be to patient as long as you are willing to try," Ivar kissed your forehead and removed your sleeping gown from your body.

He surprised you by pulling your body up against his chest and wrapping an arm around your stomach, "goodnight, my beautiful queen."

You allowed yourself to relax in his arms and fall asleep, wondering how Hvitserk was faring during the raid as you drifted off.

*

"Good morning," Ivar pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he gently shook you awake, "breakfast is almost served."

You pulled yourself out of bed and dressed quickly, not failing to notice Ivar's eyes on you the entire time. His gaze scrutinizing your naked body was a little unnerving, but he was your husband now and you were going to have to get used to it.

Due to the absence of the raiders, the Great Hall felt incredibly empty. You took your seat next to Ivar and greeted Aslaug. A host of slaves were milling about and making sure the three of you and the various wives left behind were enjoying your breakfast.

"How would you feel if Hvitserk did not come back?"

Ivar speared a piece of meat and shoved it into his mouth casually while you froze, a forkful of eggs clattering to the table as you dropped your utensil.

You could play into his game and lie, something you had gotten quite good at, or you could be honest. It was always a stressful time when Hvitserk left to raid but he always came back. For the first time in your life, you genuinely worried he would not return, and it wouldn't be because he was killed in battle.

Ubbe would never let that happen, no matter what Ivar had planned, Ubbe would not let anyone in your camp touch Hvitserk, you told yourself. It didn't stop you from worrying, so you chose to tell the truth.

"My heart would break, I have always cared for him and I would be devastated if he did not return."

"Vikings die in battle, you know this. You do not want Hvitserk to reach Valhalla?"

"Of course I want him to go to Valhalla, but not yet. He is far too valuable to you right now, my king. A warrior as skilled as he is belongs by your side on the battlefield."

Ivar studied you, his eyes narrowed as he took a sip from from his cup.

"My queen is right, Hvitserk is invaluable to me, let us raise our cups to his safe return."

Aslaug raised her cup gracefully and you did the same while Ivar kept his eyes on you, slowly bringing his cup above his head.

"Hvitserk will come home safe," you lowered your cup to your lips and took a long drink, "it is what the Gods will."

"Yes," Ivar followed suit, "it is what the Gods will. My brother will return in several weeks time."

A silence fell across the table, you pushed food around your plate, Ivar downed his mead and Aslaug tried her best to not look completely uncomfortable.

"Hvitserk is invaluable to me," Ivar repeated, "that is why I feel it is time to marry him off and strengthen our resources by gaining allies."

Ivar continued talking, but his words fell flat before they could reach your ears. He was going to marry a woman that wasn't you to Hvitserk, a woman that he would probably eventually find solace in and leave you behind.

You had been fooling yourself when you thought this sharing arrangement would work. Ivar never intended to share you, he would always have you in the end. The day that he decided to take you as his wife was the official end of anything you had with Hvitserk, despite how hard you tried to fight it.

"Her name is Brenna," Aslaug smiled softly at you, her voice bringing you back to the conversation, "she is from a nearby village with a large army. They are eager to join our forces."

The sad look in her eyes wasn't lost on you as she tried her best to make this woman, Brenna, someone that could be of help you. She couldn't though, anyone that would share a bed with your Hvitserk, your love, was most definitely someone that would not be of any help to you at all, despite her status. A woman that was poised to marry Hvitserk was not someone that you wanted to meet, not someone you wanted to live.

Ivar had been playing games with you since the moment he declared you to be his, and now he was dangling Hvitserk's life in front of you like it was a toy.

"You are making a wise choice, Ivar."

He flinched at your use of his name in a formal setting.

"I am sure she and her army will be invaluable to us in the wars ahead."

Your emphasis on the word slipped past him and you suppressed a smile while you finished your breakfast. You excused yourself and had a bath of vanilla and honey drawn for you while you thought about the welcome feast for Hvitserk's soon to be bride. A devious smile played at your lips as you submersed yourself in the hot water.

If the king could play with lives, so could the queen.