King Ivar spends much of his time with his infertile first wife: neglecting his second wife, the mother of his children, a Freyjasdottir. Eventually, it catches up to him when a foreign King Sverri invades his lands.
tw: abuse, character death, etc.
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Having a baby changed a lot about your life. Little Uxi was Ivar's pride and joy, of course, but it had been months since you had sex with Ivar. Perhaps it was because Uxi was up constantly... but more likely, it was because Ivar was overcompensating for the nearly ten months Kitta was at a lack of her husband. It was... expected. You should have expected it. Yet your stomach squelched, painfully jealous of the kisses and love she received at night with him boarding with her.
Perhaps also, you longed for a full night's rest and to feel sexy again. Ragnhild warmed the spot of your husband, bringing Uxi to you in the middle of long nights and cool moments in the early dawn but it wasn't the same. At some point, you slip out of your warm cave of a room with Uxi bundled up tight. Ivar's eyes follow you across the wooden hall as if surprised that you finally emerged. Rather than talk to him, however, you sit beside the heavy oak table beside Hvitserk.
"Have you asked her?"
Kitta whines in Ivar's ear. He breaks his stare from your direction over to his first wife. Her toes tickle against his leather boots, commanding his attention back towards her as if he should have never turned his eye toward you.
"No." Ivar brought his empty cup to hover by his lips. "I haven't slept with her since she gave birth. You've kept me hostage."
Four-- he thought. How strong you had been to take care of his son without his help while he tended to Kitta's weak heart. But now his first wife was asking something of him that he didn't know if he could supply.
"Ask her." Kitta presses, grating on the thin fibers of his patience. Ivar sets down his mead and swallows harshly as you slide Uxi into Hvitserk's arms. Hvitserk's cheeks glow with either the booze and jubilation of holding his nephew. The King whistles, calling you over with a flick of his wrist. After ensuring that Hvitserk has Uxi, you walk over to your husband. His hands quickly wander across your hips.
"Husband--" You smile.
"I have something to ask you." He cut you short, taking your fingers to his lips in a small kiss. Kitta urges him on with his question, stroking her shoe over his braces.
"What is it?" You say, looking between the couple. Your smile is bright and wide-- making him feel a pang of guilt for the question he is about to pose without so much as having a night with you to himself. He had been aching for one for months.
"Kitta wants to take you to her bed." Ivar leans forward to pull you in when you resist him. Your lips widen into a small oval while backing away, minding your skirts so that you would not fall over yourself. Ivar's hands keep yours.
"I don't know if that is why you took me as your wife--" You harshly pull your hands up from him. "--But I'm not going to be your sex toy."
Ivar loses your hands completely as you rush away from him back towards Hvitserk. Like some pathetic dog, he lurches forward to try and steal your hands back. Almost pathetically he misses, dropping to the furs below with a grunt. He feels a foreign burn in his chest— never once had he experienced you running away from him like that. His head snaps back to Kitta who has left her seat. Her dark shoes step down from beside you. She catches you and tightens her pale arms around your hips in such a snug, milky dress.
