How love looks like
The request:
Author’s Notes | I hope you like the result, love!
Universe | Vikings
Pairing | Ivar x Reader, Reader’s daughter
Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon for 5CW Ivar vol. II, posted for HTGI event
Words | 1619
⁑ Warnings: Mentinos to pain, possible incorrect quotes or informations about Ivar’s condition.
She was trembling when she came into my hall for the first time.
"King Ivar."
Even her voice was trembling. I could bet her fingers were cold, although the package in her hands was made of warm blankets. Her dress was ragged here and there, and her hair wasn't properly braided. But her beauty was undeniable.
However, what caught my eyes wasn't her pretty face but the way she approached my throne, bending enough so I could see the little face contorting itself, essaying a cry.
"I beg you... Please help me," she said, eyes teary.
Her hands unfolded the blanket making my eyes large. It was only a second before she folded the blankets around the little girl once again, hiding the twisted bones of her legs from the cold that made the child start cooing, annoyed.
I saw that woman clinging to that package as if her whole life was inside those blankets. And, for a moment, that scene made me remember my mother.
"You lived through it," that woman's voice woke me out of my memories, allowing me to notice the obvious difference between her and my beautiful mother. "I beg you mercy, my lord. Teach me, please. I want her to live. I know she can live! Her father doesn't believe the gods enough, but I saw what they did to you. You've done it. Please, my lord, teach me how to help her."
She didn't want her daughter to survive. No. Mother wanted me to survive. She wanted me to be there for her. That woman wanted her daughter to be like me...
She wanted her daughter to live.
"This Thing is over. I have matters to solve," I said, dismissing the other citizens.
My eyes on her, seeing how strongly she was fighting the tears. Her fear that I wouldn't help stamped on her face.
An expression that vanished completely when I caught my crutch, getting up to walk towards her.
"Bring the girl inside, woman. First lesson you need to learn: it is never warm enough for her."
Her tears broke down, but she nodded. And I could see the determination in her eyes, shining with hope and gratitude over me.
We placed the little girl inside my room, and she slept on my bed while her mother and I sat for a talk.
I discovered her name was Y/N. The little girl she named Eira seeking Eir's mercy over the little one. The bastard she once called a husband expelled them when she refused to leave the little girl to the wolves telling him king Ivar was a great man even being like her.
I was great in her eyes. I was the reason why she had faith her little girl could be someone. Something more than her father's shame...
She asked me for a place to serve in my castle since she had no place to live. I gave her the servant room beside mine and offered to serve me for a payment she could use to sustain herself and her little girl.
She accepted those crumbs as if I was saving her life.
The next day she had her little girl tied to her chest, cleaning and organizing everything I told her to.
During her work, I observed how lovely she was towards that tiny thing tied to her chest, sometimes dancing, sometimes making unnecessary rounds with the broom, everything to keep the little child entertained. The twisted little legs tightly kept against Y/N's chest as she restrained her own movements to avoid hurting her little girl.
That woman was different from anything I'd ever seen. Even from my mother - who would do nothing but care about me, neglecting my brothers, and sometimes herself, to keep me alive. Y/N was doing everything for her daughter, but as soon as the little one was asleep, I saw her brushing her own hair, messing with her clothes to find out the holes and sew them, eating properly from the portions I send to her; ensuring to be healthy and strong to care for the girl she carried around like a little treasure.
It touched my heart one day at a time.
And when the pain came and I saw Y/N in despair, lulling the little Eira trying to make her sleep, I came into her room sitting on the simple bed she would spend her nights on, and extending my arms towards her.
Her eyes were full of faith when she delivered the little Eira in my hands, observing as I gently placed the little one on the basked, moving her legs as little as possible until they were well supported and warmed by the blankets around her. With my fingers, I mashed some of my own herbs letting drops of the bitter juice fall into the little one's mouth, observing as it slowly did its job, relieving the pain and allowing Eira to fall asleep.
It was the first time I saw Y/N crumble in front of me, bitting her lips to cry in silence the anguish of her little girl's pain but also the relief of seeing she was finally tranquil.
I would see that several times. I would help Y/N to immobilize Eira's broken little legs properly to prevent them from healing the wrong way. I would help her to care for the little one's wounds when they came. And when nothing would help Eira's pain, I would help Y/N's to hold on to her faith that the gods had granted her daughter a better fate.
Whenever that little child slept after my touch, I felt a little like Harbard, taking away her pain like he'd done for me when I was younger. But, unlike me, Eira had my knowledge to help her grow better. To help her suffer less.
I didn't see when that little girl and her mother invaded my heart. Y/N learned from me to care for her child, but I saw her using what she'd learned several times to care for me instead.
She was the one providing my teas, helping with my wounds, sewing protections to make my braces more comfortable...
Relieving my pain. My loneliness.
Standing beside me even in my worst days, Y/N became someone I couldn't see myself without. Someone I didn't want to see myself without. And along with her, Eira also became a part of my life, making my heart melt when she started dragging herself around my hall like I used to do, imitating so soon the ways I had fought so hard to learn by myself.
She would come to me full of trust and laugh at me so easy!
Sometimes she wouldn't sleep if I wasn't near. Sometimes I would hear Y/N telling her my story, painting me as some kind of hero Eira was starting to follow.
And it would make me proud.
Y/N made me proud of what was once my worst shame. She made me feel I wasn't incomplete, nor half of a man. She made me feel my whole life had sense, meaning.
I'd come like that, with my twisted legs and pain, cause the gods knew my mind was gifted. The gods knew I would create ways to live.
And now, my ways were making Eira's life possible.
Better.
Easier.
Slowly, I took Y/N more and more from the service of the hall. Soon, she was something like a personal servant to me. She would go anywhere I would go, and I wouldn't want anyone but her around when I was moody or living a bad day.
She became my relief as much as I once was hers.
It was inevitable to fall in love with that woman. To bring her into my life. To want her as my queen.
"I want you, Y/N. I want Eira. And I don't want to ever hear about your ex-husband once again. He's nothing but past. He's nobody. She's my little girl, and this is how I want things to be now."
She didn't argue. But I could see it wasn't the initial fear that prevented her from arguing with me or trying to contradict my arguments. Y/N's fingers touched my face that night and she touched our foreheads with tenderness.
"I wouldn't want any different," I remember she said.
Her nose nuzzling against mine in a caress I would discover it was my favorite sensation in Midgard.
"Eira is my gift from the gods. And they've decided to bless me again with you."
Now my little Eira was twelve years old. Her little braces were reproductions of mine, in a smaller size. She couldn't run around with the other children, but she would spend hours playing hnefatafl with me, making me the best company I could ever want.
She was definitely better than I ever was. Always filling our hearts with joy whenever she would play with her two little brothers the gods had blessed me with.
I'd noticed her blood-father walking around sometimes, looking at her at the market or observing as she would easily walk with her crutch around, sometimes trying to go a little faster than she really could just to show me something she wanted or giggle with her usual playful tone. I could see he regretted his mistake, but I never gave him a chance to approach, always looking at him with blues icy cold. A warning that it was too late for his excuses.
Y/N and Eira were mine now. My little princess, my queen.
They’d become my treasures.
And his time to claim back what he'd left was long gone.