Married Queenie AU! I need to see where they would go. What if Edgard saw the potential and made her divorce? What if Ivar just straight up killed the Lord when he saw he was getting rough with her? What if they become lovers??
Oh my God I feel like I need a whole series about this AU! 😍 😍 😍 So many good ideas ❤️ ❤️
Okay so, I feel like if Edgard saw the potential and gave her a divorce, seeing that there was only a handful of conditions for divorce, he’d go like;
“The Church will grant you a divorce on the grounds of your marriage never being consummated.”
“But it did.”
“No it didn’t.”
“We will lie to the church?!”
“There’s no lie, it wasn’t consummated.”
And if Ivar and Queenie became lovers I think she would feel SOOO guilty, because like she used to be so traditional before she got to Kattegat, so even if they just kissed, she’d be like,
“This is wrong.”
“Why?”
“I- I’m married, I’m not supposed to-”
“I told you, I could kill him if you wanted.”
“No! I’m supposed to be faithful to my husband, and- and Jesus wouldn’t approve of this.”
“Who?”
“Jesus!”
“I don’t know who that is, but how is this any of his business?”
OKAY :) WAIT... BABY FALCON IS UNDERSTANDABLE CAUSE OF MUM. BUT BABY FAWN? DO WE GET A TOTAL INNOCENT AND NOT VOILANT CHILD OF IVAR AND Y/N THAT DOESNT LIKE TO FOGHT AND LOCES TO SIT AROUND OR PAINTING AND OMG! NEVER STOP THE DRABBLES PLEASE
If I remember right, Baby/Little Fawn(?) is the more gentle of the children and was named so because she fell a lot when she was a baby, @dreamwritesimagines correct me if i’m wrong??. She adopts her mother’s gifts for poison eventually ??
I’d probably write her a bit softer, but still more into the politics compared to her siblings. She’ll be the more innocent one to start with, but she’ll get ambitious like her brother. People will think she’s the easier sibling to talk to when there’s a problem, but she’s just as fierce as her brother and sister. We’ll see though. haha I’ll try!😁😏 As I said, there is spin off potential with the other baby vikings, if i ever decide to write baby shark growing up. 😏😂😅
This one took a bit to finish, even though I had a good portion of it done, because of moving, life things, and good ol’ writers’ block and procrastination. So hopefully part four and five comes out a bit quicker than this one did?? And out of the three parts this feels wayyy more babble than drabble.
As always this was inspired by @dreamwritesimagines ‘s story Faint of Heart.
[MasterList] | Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five
Little Ragnar zoomed around his parent's chambers in his little chariot that his father had built for him. Baby battle cries and babbles on his tongue. Bygul and Trjegul, the two cats Earl Eric had gifted the little prince, dutifully pulled him on the small chariot following each command of direction that Baby Shark gave. He tried to convince Eitr to pull the chariot too. So maybe it could fly like her. But she just squawked before taking her place on the chariot with him.
Aunt Gala was keeping an eye on him today. His parents were making plans on a raid. Though the Prince was certain he had already given his opinion on the future raid and should have settled it. But he thought that the tall people just liked to talk and make things more complicated. He didn't mind too much because he was having fun pretend raiding with his Aunt Gala. Usually his Aunt Bree would be playing as well, but she has been getting more tired lately because of her ever growing belly. And Aunt Torvi was busy with his parents and uncles planning the next raid.
Aunt Gala was now walking alongside Ragnar to simulate a small battle between them and a few stacks of blocks and two chairs. Aunt Gala was his best shieldmaiden in this battle. They were to take the lands behind mother’s tables in the bed chambers. Bad men that they had fashioned out of chairs and furs were standing in their way. Trjegul and Bygul was pulling the little chariot in slow circle now. Ragnar waved an axe in the air and babbled his best battle cry before leading the charge.
Then the door loudly swung open bouncing off the wall behind it. Ivar huffed back into the chambers Y/N at his feet. The King flopped himself on the bed with a groan. The Queen starting to remove her husbands braces. Gala was already unfastening the frustrated Baby Shark out of the chariot. Frustrated that his raid was cut short, but he supposed that if it had to be cut short of any reason, mother and father were was good as any.
“My King, my Queen, shall I take the Prince and let you-”
“No need Gala, I like to have him close. Bring him here and you may be dismissed for the rest of the night. Perhaps you can keep my brother out of trouble.”
“Yes, my King,” Gala blushed as she gently lifted the Prince into her arms and onto the bed before bowing and leaving the room. The prince dismissed his friends as well in his own way and set his little axes somewhere next to his father and himself on the bed. The cats went out to prowl and Eitr perching herself on the Prince’s crib. His father lifted him to sit on his broad chest. His mother removing the last of his father’s braces off of his legs.
“You were already in pain most of the day. I told you not to overdo it,” Y/N fussed and walked over to one of her boxes and pulled out a small bowl of strong smelling salve.
“I am meant to say that to you. You can hardly walk now. We are quite a pair aren’t we?” Ivar smirked.
Ragnar grabbed his father’s face with his chubby hands and patted his cheeks. Ragnar telling his father that he could hardly walk before and now he’s a mighty warrior that walks tall just like his father. Then the little prince bent down and kissed his father on the cheeks his hands were on. The kisses were more like wet blowing and babbling against the king’s scruffy cheek. Ivar kissed his son back on his soft chubby cheeks, eliciting a giggle from the prince.
Ivar looked up at his wife at the sound of a sniffle, “Are you crying? What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No I just--that was adorable and so sweet and being with child makes me this way.” Y/N wipes her cheek with a sleeve, then rubs her belly.
“Oh Little Shark, will you cry like this everytime we have a child.” Ivar leaned up with his son still on his chest and wiped a stray tear. Then replaced the tear with a kiss.
“Yes.”
At this the king smirked.
“Here, the physician gave me this a while ago to help the ache.”
“It does not bother me.”
“Clearly.”
Ragnar tried to reason with his father. When the Little Prince got hurt, the only thing that seemed to heal him or at least made things better was his mother. Whether it be fixing up his bumps and scrapes with salves or kisses. There was no shame with needing to be healed. Sometimes warriors needed it after a battle after all. Or after falling off a surface he wasn’t supposed to be climbing on.
“See Ivar even your son knows to listen to me.”
“He is one. He can’t know what you say.”
“Now you remember your sons age. Not when you hand him axes, but when he agrees with me.” His mother roughly pulls his father’s pants off his legs. And started to rub the salve on Ivar’s legs.
Ragnar copied his mother’s movements and patted his father on his legs. Modir said that his fodir had pains in his legs. And sometimes, despite him saying he didn’t, he needed some care. But only from Mother and himself. So they needed to watch out for his father because that’s what you did with family and the people you loved, you protected and took care of eachother. The rest of the night was spent with the Little Prince’s parents trying to get him to say Modir or Fodir first. Even though Ragnar was pretty sure that he was saying it right each time a babble came out of his mouth. All these tall people needed to practice their old norse, the prince decided.
Okay I’m back at it again with another Babble Drabble. Hopefully it will keep the same spirit and baby shark attitude as the first one. You may find the first Babble Drabble here. Again I feel like its more babble than drabble. Also again this is inspired by @dreamwritesimagines story Faint of Heart.
full disclaimer: I know nothing about viking traditions and what not so i’m taking so many liberties on it. Not that it’s very important to the plot so....
[MasterList] | Part One | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
Twack! Twack! Twack! The rhythmic sounds of wood on stone and baby giggles echoed in the Great Hall. Little Ragnar was delighted with his new toy. They weren’t as interesting as the ones his father carried with him, but they did have carvings of falcons and snakes on the handle so the Little Prince guessed that he like them enough. Even if they didn't do as much harm.
“My love, look what Earl Eric--Ivar what is our son holding?” The Queen just walked into the Great Hall and saw her son and husband sitting on the floor. Both with grins plastered on their faces. Faces like those, from both of them often meant trouble. Trouble for who wasn't always clear. Y/N had a feeling that the trouble will be for her.
“Good Morning, Little Shark and Tiny Shark.” Ivar glanced at his wife and her swollen belly.
“Ivar-”
“They are our son's new toys.”
“Why do they look like axes?”
“It is because they are.”
“Why does our son have axes!?”
“He is the prince of Kattegat; he needs axes.” The king shrugged as innocently as he could get away with.
“Ivar, you seem to forget that our son is one year old! He could hurt himself or-”
“Little Shark, they are not sharp and are just made of wood. Floki made them if you are worried. You haven't noticed him eyeing my axes? I could have given him what he wanted, but I remembered my wife would not like our son to start out so soon with them.”
The queen bickered back at the King. Little Ragnar had not giving them any notice because he has gotten his new axes now. That was until he notice his mother was a little upset, which confused Ragnar. Were Vikings, or more Kings, not supposed to carry these sticks around? Father did, Uncle Hvitserk did, Uncle Bjorn did, Uncle Ubbe did, occasionally Aunt Torvi did, that one Earl that Father didn’t seem to like much had some too. But Father needn't worry since he was handsome too and fiercer than any warrior. His father looked like him, so of course he was. Still, he didn't like it when his mother was upset; he adored his mother. So the Little Prince pushed himself up onto his chubby legs and waddled towards his mother and patted her knee before he hugged her leg. Babbled something about axes and all things sharp are good for warriors such as himself and that he loved her. All before letting go and started chewing on a baby axe handle.
“See, even Ragnar thinks so,” Ivar smirked, thinking he won the conversation.
“You don't even know what he was saying, Ivar.” Y/N lifted the baby shark into her arms. The little prince buried his face into her hair, axes still clutched in his tiny fists.
“Of course I can understand my son.”
“Mhm.”
“He said he loved his father and his new axes. And you should forgive me.”
“Mhm. Are you sure Ragnar said that and not you husband?”
“No I am sure.”
Baby shark was only half listening because chewing on the handles required a lot of concentration, but thought his father isn't quite good at translating the little prince’s old norse. Fodir needed to practice. And Ragnar did love his father, it just wasn’t what he told his mother right then. She apparently wasn’t that upset because she and father laughed about him being a fierce viking and she guessed she’ll have to wait to teach him her art and that was that.
“What were you saying about Earl Eric?” The king huffed.
“Oh! He wanted to give Ragnar some gifts since his missed our son’s one year feast.” The queen ignored her husband’s attitude towards the Earl.
Baby shark lifted his head from his mother's hair and took the axes out of his mouth when he noticed movement behind her. He couldn't make out what they were other than there were two of them and they were big and fluffy. He eyes them suspiciously deciding whether or not he had to protect his mother and what Modir and Aunt Bree said would be a sister. He did not understand how they could tell because his sister was kept away in his mother’s belly like a gift and gifts often don't give away what's in them until they are opened. And she was not opened yet. His expression was not unlike his father when he caught the movement behind his wife.
“My love, what is that?” Ivar got up from his spot on the floor using his crutches.
“Greetings, My King!” A booming voice came came from behind the two unidentified fluffy creatures. The kings eyes narrowed not in suspicion of danger but rather suspicion because of annoyance. The queen eyed the king in a way that told him to be polite before turning to the Earl and greeting him.
“Oh Earl Eric! I was just telling my husband about your apologies and gifts you had for missing our son's one year feast.”
The little prince turned his body towards the earl and waved his axes at him in greeting. Usually he would just wave with his hands, but letting go of his toys were not an option to the baby shark.
“And what are these gifts?”
“These are Bygul and Trjegul. They are my most noble and strongest cats. Perfect friends for the Prince of Kattegat, My King.”
When Earl Eric gladly offered two of his biggest strongest cats for the little prince, Ragnar wasn't sure about these two fluffy creatures, but they were big and strong and soft. The Baby Shark held out his hand out to one of them, after being set down by his mother, it rubbed its face against his palm then it. This made him giggle and babble on. The other ball of fluff came around the prince and rested its head on his chubby thigh. They immediately became his new friends. He only hoped that Eitr would like them too. The two cats would follow him everywhere listening to whatever story or command the Prince told.
The king looked intrigued and ask the Earl if they were strong enough and obedient enough to pull say, a small chariot for the baby.
“They will my king. And your son seems to have their command already as if he enchanted them!”
“We thank you Earl Eric and I am sure Ragnar is grateful for them as well.”
The little prince was showing his new toys to his new friends who seemed interested enough. He momentarily looked up at the earl and gave him a mostly gummy save for four teeth smile and a nod.
“The pleasure mine, my prince,” The Earl bowed in front Ragnar, who said in his own way of ‘thank you’ before patting the Earl on his shin. He would have prefered to pat his head, or shoulder, but the earl was especially tall and the prince supposed the shin will do.
So I wrote a little hc drabble thing for @dreamwritesimagines ‘s story Faint of Heart and it got away from me. I’m am so rusty since I haven’t written in a while. All the mistakes are mine, but the heart of the story though is Dream’s. I really do I hope I do give her story a little justice and everyone isn’t too ooc.
[MasterList] | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
[edit: added links to the next chapters]
Little Ragnar was fussing and frustrated. He felt as if Eitr, the giant bird that Modir kept with her, was the only one to truly understand him. Sometimes she was. All he wanted at the moment was for the tall man with the walking sticks, the one called Fodir, the one called king, the one sometimes called the Boneless (though that didn't make any sense because Fodir seemed to have all the parts as everyone else, but what did the Little Prince know.). All he wanted as for Fodir to pick him up, put him on his lap, and hopefully if Modir wasn't looking, would let him play or even touch the sticks with the shiny sharp bit at the end of them, the sticks that he assumed to be his father's toys. Instead, when the little prince pushed himself on his chubby legs and patted the King's thighs and asked in his just a little more than one year old speech to pick him up, all he did was softly pat the soft fluff of hair on top of Little Ragnar's head.
This made the Little Prince huff. He wouldn't have had asked his father to be picked up if he could do it himself. Even a mighty prince such as he needed help climbing on top of a giant chair and then on top of his giant father's lap, all since everything was determined to be bigger than him at the moment. So he did the only thing that the tall people could seem to understand even though the little prince was certain that he knew old norse just like everyone else, they just didn't seem to understand him. which was ridiculous. He cried. He battle cried. That was sure to get anyone’s attention. Fodir did it before setting out on a raid once. He only got to watch because Aunt Bree and Aunt Gala persuaded Modir to let him see Fodir off too even if it were his nap time. As he should have he would be the one to protect Kattegat and Modir while Fodir was away. Well him and Eitr.
The sudden cry startled Ivar. The little prince had gone from pulling himself to his little feet with Ivar's braces and babbling incessantly to plopping his bottom on the stone floor and wailed. Startled for a moment, the King picked up his son and held the chubby bundle of adorable trouble to his chest. "There, there, Baby Shark, why does the mighty Prince of Kattegat cry, hm?"
Little Ragnar stopped his battle cry as soon as his father picked him up. He just gave what he assumed a hard look at his father before sniffling. This made Ivar chuckle and continued to pat his son's back until the sniffling lessened.
"You know if you wanted to help me plan this upcoming raid you could have asked, my son, this will all be yours one day. Which of these two countries shall we raid next, hm?"
This made the Little Prince perk up a little bit, momentarily forgetting his father's axes that he wanted to play with and the fact that no one could understand his old norse, even though he was a viking through and through. The mightiest viking even. He peered over to where his father was showing him. It was all just scrolls of paper with lines and lines over it. Nothing as interesting as the wood with the shiny bit placed at the top of the table next to a cup. Little Ragnar wobbled his body closer to the table and away from his father to make grabbing motions towards the axes. He’d almost reached them too before his mother, who came from the Great Hall to the map room scooped him up. “Come my little love, it is time for your nap.”
At this, as much as he loved being in his mother’s arms, Little Ragnar fussed and babbled and asked to be put down. He had some serious business to deal with, which was getting his father’s toys and he supposed he could give his opinion on which country to expand his rule, since his father asked him.
“Y/N, our son and I were in the middle of an important decision about our kingdom. It will be his one day after all.”
“Ivar, he is one year old. As smart as our son is, I don’t think he will have the best battle plans.” Y/N rubs her cheek against her cranky son.
“Of course he does! Look at him! Fierce and clever! Just like-”
“Me?” She quirks her eyebrow at her husband.
“Who else, my love?”
“I am sure. He still needs to take his nap, he is almost asleep already. Besides, if he stays up any later he will only get cranky, like some people I know, at the feast to celebrate Bree and Bjorn’s coming child.”
Sure enough the little prince’s head was nodding off trying desperately to stay awake and failing. Keeping his sleepy eyes on her father’s axes.
“I hope those some people you say are my brothers.”
“You know they are not.” Y/N smiles at her husband and kisses the top of his head as Ivar kisses her swollen belly before heading to their chambers with the baby shark.
Ivar had always noticed his son's fascination with his axes. He did not know it was because it was something shiny or if Ragnar was just bored with the toys he already had. Y/N and Ivar already had a conversation about training their son in each others art, but both decided that he was too young. Maybe if the Little Prince could finally make his way across a room by himself or at least hold anything for a period of time. That didn’t stop Ivar from asking Floki to make mini axes for his son, with wood where the blades would be, of course. It would go greatly with the small chariot that was fashioned for the baby and all his other toys. How else will Ragnar practice and learn how to defend Kattegat?
