The Proposal | Chapter Seven
The Proposal Masterlist
Summary: Proposal au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with
Warnings: mild swearing (I think)
Word Count: 3,022
“I was thinking,” Aslaug began. Most of the family was seated at a large table, breakfast on display and on their plates. “Me and Ragnar have talked it over, and we agree it’s in everyone’s best interest to have the wedding here,” she grinned.
The bacon in your hand never reached your open mouth as your eyebrows raised in confusion. Now? It felt entirely too soon, you looked at Ivar. He was seated next to you and appeared uneasy.
“Just think about it. Ivar, this is the first time you’ve come home in seven years. Who knows when’s the next time we’ll have an opportunity like this? And most of our family is here for your father’s birthday. He said he was more than on board with the idea.” Aslaug seemed so excited.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have a wedding. You already knew you would, but having it so soon made the whole thing more real. It used to be an abstract concept and now was a lot more.... here. “I think we’d have to talk about it,” Ivar replied cautiously.
Up until now it was mostly just playing pretend. You knew what you signed up for but this hit different. “But maybe?” You offered to soften the blow. Your leg bounced nervously under the table, and you found that your appetite was gone.
“I’ll let you two talk it over,” Aslaug decided with a nod of her head. “But it just makes sense. And it’d be a pity if I couldn’t be there for it.”
—
“We have to do it at some point, right?” You brought up when you entered the room again. You two were doing this. A lot was on the line. “Your family would hate if they weren’t there,” you bit your lower lip.
“Did you want to do it here then?”
Doing it here would make it feel more real. “I expected to get court papers and go back to my apartment and not notice a difference.” A wedding was something much more official.
Ivar nodded his head. “I’m okay with doing it now. The work will be done for us, mor has been dying to set up a wedding for a while.”
Were you okay with it? “Sure,” you nodded your head. “Maybe it’s better to just rip the bandaid off.” You shook your hands and limbs to get the nervous feeling out of you. Your stomach was twisted in all sorts of knots. Why was it so nerve wrecking now?
“You don’t have to describe our wedding as painful,” Ivar rolled his eyes.
“I’m just nervous!” You shot back quickly. Maybe part of it was that you still had the interviewer left, you forgot about him most of the time. Or maybe it was that you weren’t sure you had done enough yet.
“It’ll be a few hours of your life and we can just go back to our respective lives. Go back to normal.”
That was it. You didn’t like the idea of that. Before you came here it was easy to get the papers and pretend it didn’t happen. “You’re right, back to normal.” He would just be your boss you were legally married to. Tentative friendship aside, you couldn’t imagine going out for coffee with him. Once you two didn’t have to pretend anymore you just… wouldn’t.
“So then let’s just say yes?”
You nodded your head. “It’ll be kinda fun to dress up,” you laughed.
—
One agreement after another, neither you were sure you were entirely comfortable with. Why didn’t you say no earlier? That it was happening too fast, or that you didn’t love lying to his family.
There wasn’t a high stakes excuse, he just seemed like he wanted it and for whatever reason you agreed. But the sooner you ran through the wedding the sooner it would be over.
“Are you alright, dear,” Aslaug asked you in town. She had taken you there along with a woman named Torvi. She was married to Ubbe, as far as you could recall.
“I’m good! Just nervous,” you replied with an awkward laugh. A woman was gathering your measurements, an act that already lent itself to making one feel self conscious. You also didn’t really know anyone you were with.
Ivar wasn’t allowed inside, maybe that was for the best. Aslaug said something about it being bad luck and you didn’t bother fighting it. “Don’t be. It gets easier with each wedding, but everyone's a little nervous,” Torvi tried to calm you down. “People won’t gossip for years about if you tripped over your dress, or if your makeup was off, or if the dress didn’t match your—“ her listing things off that you never considered only increased your fears and Aslaug noticed.
“Torvi, dear, I think you’re making things worse.”
“I’m fine,” you insisted.
“All that really matters is what Ivar thinks of you. You don’t really know anyone else there, and therefore their opinions of you don’t matter,” Aslaug countered.
Torvi nodded her head. “And if he wants to marry you then you must be special. Especially after what happened with—“ Once again, Aslaug made the girl stop talking with a quick wack to her arm. “I’m just saying he’s clearly head over heels. He won’t sweat the small details.”
“What happened with who?” Curiosity was piqued. Ivar didn’t delve into personal details. It made sense, you two were hardly friends at best, but that didn’t make you any less curious. “Sorry— he just doesn’t talk about Denmark often.”
Aslaug and Torvi looked between each other for a moment until Aslaug sighed and threw her hands in the air. “Fine. But I don’t want to be here for it. It just makes me angry.” She walked out of the room and left you standing with Torvi.
“Ivar was in one other serious relationship I can recall. Sure, I think he had some affairs with a few girls but nothing real until Freydis. Nothing after her either, until you,” Torvi nodded her head.
You were changing in between suggested dresses, attempting new styles at an incredibly slow pace. Torch helped carry the weight of some dresses and zipped up the back every time. “What happened to her then?”
“Well she was beautiful and kind. He was madly in love. I’ve never seen him so love sick.”
There was no comfort that he had looked at you like that— not that you should’ve expected that. You shook her head back to reality as fast as you could. Of course Ivar looked at someone he actually loved differently than someone who just worked for him.
“Anyways, he had a whole proposal planned out. She turned him down and didn’t give a real reason why. We didn’t find out for a while,” Torvi admitted. “I think it was because she didn’t qualify for a US visa. Ivar was willing to drop his dreams of New York for her and she didn’t seem okay with that, something about not wanting him to change his entire life for her.”
You were silent the whole time. You never saw Ivar date people. You’d have known if he had in the last three years. It made sense why any short term flings didn’t last.
Torvi laced together a dress. “I wasn’t sure he’d recover— until you. So all’s well that ends well, right?” She leaned over your shoulder and grinned at you. “I wouldn’t worry too much about her. Aslaug just resents Freydis for breaking his heart. But I haven’t even seen her around here in years. She’s hardly a boogeyman.”
Why did that bother you so much? If Ivar was secretly in love with some other woman the entire time it shouldn’t matter. She turned him down anyways. But it did bother you. Ivar didn’t mention his past and you had to wonder if Freydis was why.
“I think this dress looks lovely by the way,” Torvi complimented.
—
The day just seemed so fast. Nothing was seemingly capable of slowing down information as it was thrown at you. It didn’t seem to get any better when you finally left the store, a dress sent in for alterations, to find Ivar at the nearby cafe you left him at talking to someone you haven't seen before.
“Ivar!” You smiled. Aslaug and Torvi had shooed you away while they worked on ‘something’. You heard through their whispers it had to do with a bachelorette party. The idea wasn’t exactly fun but they were too nice to turn town, so you already knew you’d agree with whatever they had to say.
You glanced over at the woman, she was beautiful and maybe that was why you felt the strong urge to sit incredibly close to Ivar. “Y/N, this is an old friend of mine, Freydis.” That made things instantly worse. The warm smile on your face turned cold.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you extended your hand to shake hers. Even her hand was soft and warm. You turned your head to face Ivar, seeing an urge to do something.
What if Ivar realized he didn’t need to return to the US if Freydis was here. You could go to prison, or lose your job at best. The man needed his priorities straight. Oh— who were you kidding! Freydis hadn’t even done anything other than show up today and now.
They spoke in Danish, only occasionally letting you into the conversation. You understood fragments of it. They were talking about their time at university, growing up together, when they dated. You were ignored and isolated from their chats and it bothered you.
Maybe you wouldn’t have cared at all if Torvi didn’t ignite a fear that Ivar was still in love with her. But he was already so much more animated and kind to her than he usually was with you.
“We’re being a bit rude to your girlfriend, aren’t we?” Freydis brought it up at some point, speaking in English for your sake.
“It’s fine,” you smiled awkwardly, waving it off.
“She’s not really my girlfriend,” Ivar admitted. “It’s complicated. She’s just a good friend. She’s helping me stay in America and get my citizenship official.”
You froze, every muscle in your body tensing up at once. Freydis laughed at the absurdity of it. “Then you must be incredibly kind as you are beautiful to deal with him. Ivar certainly has a knack for the dramatics, doesn’t he,” she smiled at you.
You took a deep breath and smiled back. “He also seems to have a habit of bad judgement calls. Ivar— I don’t care if she knows but the point of a secret is not sharing it where anyone can hear. Your mom and Torvi are in the same district right now. What if they were behind us?” You snapped.
Ivar frowned his eyebrows at you, “It’s not a big deal. Freydis wouldn’t share it and they aren’t here. Do you honestly think I’d be that reckless?”
“If I can’t share it with anyone how come you get to without discussing it,” you demanded. It bothered you. A lot. “We’re supposed to be a team.”
Freydis shifted uncomfortably, “I think this is my cue to go. Obviously things are a little tense. Look, I promise you two that I won’t go around sharing this.” She stood up and collected her things.
“I think that’s a good idea. You’re fine, Freydis. My issue is with my not-boyfriend,” you admitted, anger evident in your tone.
“Good luck with the wedding,” Freydis waved before leaving. Her walk was a little faster than a normal one.
“What the hell was that,” Ivar demanded the moment Freydis was out of ear shot. He turned to face you and it was the first time he looked at you since you showed up. His eyes were intense and narrowed in anger.
Your jaw tightened, “I should be asking you the same question. Why were you even talking to her? Let alone telling her our entire plan. You realize that I go to prison if it gets out, right? You can stay here and live out your perfect fantasy but I rot in a cell!” You stood up and wanted to leave.
“I’m not going to blow anything up! Freydis won’t tell. We’ll get married as we planned, divorced in three years. No one gets hurt.”
But you already were. And you couldn’t identify why.
“Oh and who’s gonna believe that we’re a real couple getting married if they just see something like that! You ignored me the entire time just to stare at her perfectly symmetrical face!”
Ivar’s face went from anger to confusion for a moment. “No one saw it. I’m not bringing her to my home or reintroducing her. It was one interaction. What’s wrong with me wanting to see an old friend.”
“But she’s not just your friend, right,” you reminded him.
Ivar froze and hesitated to respond for a moment. “How do you know that?”
You tried to calm down but you could feel yourself spiraling. “Torvi told me about her at the dress fitting. Everything she knew.” You bit your bottom lip, Ivar remained silent. “I’m your fiancée! Okay? So just— just stop looking at her!” You didn’t understand why it bothered you so much. You hoped it was just for appearances. “I just need this to go well. We’re supposed to be working together. That wasn’t together.”
“What happened to wanting to not argue,” Ivar challenged. “And over her? I haven’t seen Freydis in a long time. It’s not like I’m proposing to her.” Tears threatened to leave your eyes and Ivar’s face fell. “Whoa— hey, Y/N. It’s okay. I didn’t do anything. I don’t love her, I was just catching up. I didn’t think it would matter so much.”
You didn’t either. “Maybe.” You didn’t really have a right to care beyond him telling Freydis who you actually were. And if you were being honest that isn’t what you really minded. “I don’t know why it does. Things are just happening fast. I keep losing control over my life right now.”
Ivar wasn’t good at trying to comfort people, he awkwardly placed a hand on your shoulder and patted it. “You should’ve said something. I would’ve tried to help.”
You laughed softly and shook your head. “Yesterday you told me that you would've helped me if I asked for it.”
Ivar rolled his eyes, “well I lied. You should be used to that by now.”
“I don’t like her,” you admitted, “she’s way too nice.” There was nothing genuine to hate her for. She didn’t step on your toes or was rude. “I can’t even imagine you dating her. She doesn’t look like she could bite back.”
Ivar found it a little amusing. “I didn’t usually bite at her to begin with. Not that you’d know. Torvi shouldn’t have said anything. It wasn’t her place— and nor was it mine to tell Freydis the truth.”
“At least you admit it.” So what gripe could you have left?
“Were you jealous,” Ivar asked suddenly.
“No!” Your face got red at the idea. “Of course not. How could I be jealous of that?” Were you jealous?
“Okay,” he nodded his head. “Then I’ll just put this out there. As friends. I’m choosing to marry you. Not her, you. If I wanted to have married Freydis I would’ve.”
For some reason the words calmed you down a bit more. “Not that you could’ve, she's way too beautiful for you.” You found yourself easily relaxing into petty insults.
“You’re just jealous she’s better looking than you.” He knew a new way to get under your skin and didn’t hesitate to take a shot at you.
Your face fell.
“Just because I made a poor choice in who I choose to marry doesn’t it isn’t true. It’s my legs that are broken, not my eyes.”
“You are so mean!” Your voice filled with a bit of dramatic hurt.
“You insulted me first. And if I’m being honest, I’ve been incredibly patient with you today. So I deserved to say it. You went off on me for no reason. If you were anyone else I would’ve said something to actually hurt you,” Ivar replied. “Like how you have no family. Or you’re only so jealous because no one’s ever truly loved you the way you believe I love her— something to that effect.”
That’s when it occurred to you that Ivar didn’t respond like he normally would. Like he used to. He tolerated your display of anger and worked with you rather than get defensive and attack in any meaningful way.
“This is the part where you apologize,” Ivar nodded to you. “Or at least thank me.”
You didn’t want to. “You’re right,” you sighed. “Thanks.”
Ivar shrugged, “you’ve tolerated me when I’ve gotten angry over nothing. I figured I’d return the favor.” He took a moment before deciding to share more. “I broke up with her, by the way. Before I left. I decided that being here and knowing her was all I knew. I haven’t loved her for a long time. I certainly wouldn’t lose my job over her.”
Your eyes locked with his. “Torvi made it sound like—“
“None of them know. That’s why you don’t rely on rumors, Y/N. You could’ve just asked.” He didn’t seem to mind it. “You went off the rails today,” Ivar sipped his coffee and he eyed you. He was calm about it too. As if he didn’t mind this simple truth.
“I’m sorry.” It all seemed really dumb right now. “You’re right. It’s just all been… a lot. Things are moving fast. I thought you were just another thing running ahead of me.”
“You’re supposed to be the one keeping me in check,” Ivar teased. “It’s strange being the sane one for once.”
You rolled your eyes, “I slipped up once. Don't expect it to happen again.”
But that didn't solve the nagging in the back of your mind. Why was that the final straw?
—
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