#king canute

[bino2306]

Ponytail 🐱

[rainer03]

the way everyone around thorfinn looks up to him... oh thorfinn you are so loved😭

[ranir0-0]

Counting Sheep

sharing a bed with various vinland saga characters: Snake, Canute

sfw, gender neutral reader

since looking for fics in this fandom makes me feel like I’m watching tumbleweed roll across the Sahara, I felt motivated to write a little something <3

Snake

tags: depression, reverse comfort | definitely projecting here but I felt like the scenes of him sleeping through the whole day could mean he’s not just lazy and nocturnal but instead a little depressed

The sun had already moved far beyond its highest point in the sky, long shadows indicating it was late into the afternoon, when Snake was awoken by the creaking of his bedroom door. He grumbled in annoyance when soft rays of light spilled into the pitch black room onto his closed eyes, turning his back to you.

“Snake?”

Why did it have to be you?

He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to force his body back to a state of unconsciousness. Still, he knew you would not let go so easily. Snake’s fists clenched weakly to quell whatever emotions you stirred within him by caring so persistently.

It wasn’t like he did not enjoy time spent with you. Quite the opposite was the case: It was around you that he felt more comfortable, more at ease than he’d ever thought to be possible for an exiled criminal like himself. The sense of normalcy that settled in the atmosphere whenever you so much as existed beside him Snake was so unfamiliar with yet in need of desperately.

His unease at this moment was not to blame on you.

This part of himself, heavy limbs that longed to be claimed by sleep once more, greasy, tangled hair and sweaty, unclean clothes he didn’t have the energy to change out of, he felt… embarrassed of. He couldn’t explain the cause for days like this, where the usually so capable and strong Snake disappeared, his body and mind rendered soft, couldn’t explain the weakness that claimed him. He hated every second of being awake through it.

“Roald?”

He clenched his teeth, a strangled sound leaving him.

Why did you have to make this more difficult by caring about him so foolishly?

“Hm,” he answered with a voice strained by dehydration. His mouth had not seen a drop of water for perhaps a day, if he had to guess.

Your brows furrowed in worry as not even the smell of your warm, freshly cooked stew would coax Snake out of bed. The air in his bedroom was used up, smelling of sweat and exhaustion. As you bit your lip, you contemplated how you could help Snake. Surely, anyone a little less sensitive would have dragged him up to stand. It was undoubtedly the fastest way to have him stand upright and join the others for much-needed help during harvesting season.

While your eyes traced his still body, you took note of his curled up position that seemed so unlike a man of his strength. It wouldn’t feel right to rip him so forcefully from his soft bed, the cushions that he gripped so tightly.

Taking a deep breath of the stale air and exhaling with a sigh, you set down the bowl of stew you’d been intending to wake him with.

“Roald…” you whispered his name carefully once more, hoping your tone would not reek of pity or disappointment and instead convey your sympathy.

He didn’t move when the bed creaked under your weight nor while you shifted to sit beside his head. He was quite glad you did not see his eyes, which were wide open and displaying the messy swirl of emotions that surged through his veins.

A few moments, neither of you cared how many, passed in mildly tense silence before your hand carefully moved to caress his black locks. He tensed up slightly in surprise before melting under your touch. You didn’t care for the mess he was, the grease that had built up on his head and the strands starting to form mats, didn’t care that your clean, soft hands were touching it. You wanted him to feel good, and knowing this made his heart ache with delight and guilt in a way only you could be the cause of. Your nails dragged along his scalp and hairline, your warm thigh touched the back of his head as Snake started to close his eyes again. Though he’d done nothing but sleep for hours, the man had not truly rested until you entered.

“I’ll stay here until you feel better. If you’re hungry then, I’ve made stew.”

Anyone else would have dragged his drained body to its feet, maybe scold him for sleeping through the day as others were out on the fields, working hard for a plentiful harvest. You’d be right to. After all, what was he without his sense of duty, his strength?

He’d never felt more useless, and yet, he’d also never felt as loved.

It would be easier to endure reprimands than your kindness, your understanding.

Guess I’ll have no choice but to repay you.

.

.

.

not that I mind.

Canute

tags: arranged marriage ig, sleep deprivation, internally struggling Canute, sleeping reader

The moon’s thin crescent shape stood high up in the sky, weakly illuminating the Danish country. Rays of light distributed themselves over the land equally, none differing from the other.

Though the sight of the night sky should make any man tired and wish for nothing but sleep, Canute had not yet warmed up to the idea of a shared bed, finding himself unable to succumb to slumber. He had not anticipated the lack of solitude to worsen his already horrendous sleeping schedule.

However, the king could not afford any rumors to spread as a consequence of sleeping in a different bed, let alone a different room than his spouse. The King knew that word spread fast, changing with each mouth that spoke of him to create far more scandalous rumors that were only loosely based on truth. Canute didn’t want people to snicker at his cowardice or shudder at his heartlessness towards his spouse.

He’d appear as the fearless king, nobody ever guessing he’d be afraid of anything, especially not what most would consider comforting.

Canute sighed inaudibly as he cast his gaze to you. His spouse. The sight reminded the king of another reason why he did not wish to sleep separately. A less rational reason than he’d like to admit.

You were tucked into the sheets up to your chin, your chest rising and sinking with every peaceful breath. A stray lock of hair fell across your face in an unruly fashion, complimenting the small drool stain you were leaving on the pillow.

You knew what kind of man Canute was. By no means was he the timid prince he had been before; He conquered English territory with little care for anyone who could not increase his power or prosperity, the goal of paradise seeming to slip further from his hands each day as the heavy crown corrupted him.

How could you sleep so carelessly, beautifully relaxed next to him?

Canute could not decide whether to scoff at the naivety or to reciprocate the trust you showed.

His icy eyes drifted toward the large window once more, the weight of dark circles and red, irritated eyes were no longer something the king could ignore. His stiff body refused the idea of falling asleep next to someone, paranoid his trust would be misplaced as that of his brother had been in him.

Paradoxically, his heart fluttered in adoration when his gaze drifted to your peaceful face, his eyes unsure whether to look at your eyes, lips, nose, cheeks, forehead or chin first. It always felt better to observe than to touch. Besides accidental brushes of skin and hand-holding when expected, Canute had never touched you in the months of being wed. If you were to never notice, if he had no duties to attend to, the king would spend hours upon hours observing you, your behaviour, expressions and hear your voice. He liked your laugh the best, but he’d be happier to see and hear you cry than to not see you at all.

Did this mean he liked you? The possibility of his stone heart to beat for something other than paradise on earth, the goal he pursued with tunnel vision each day, he had thought to be nonexistent. Yet it beat for you in the happiest rhythm he knew, and his hands were unable to reach out, his body refusing to unwind beside you. Was it fear of rejection? Lack of trust?

The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose in between index finger and thumb, unbothered by your quiet shuffling. He could hear the heavy breathing of his father emerge from the pregnant silence, the illusion of his severed head starting to materialize from thin air on the night stand. As King Sweyn cackled at his son, showing incomplete rows of teeth and chapped lips that strained to smile, Canute felt more hateful of his father than he ever had in these past years of being a ruler. Instead, the sense of justice, disbelief at the cruelty of the crown overcame who had now effectively become just as ruthless of a king as his father. He’d last felt such strong aversion before he had placed the golden crown atop his head.

Uncertainty weighed heavy upon his sternum as Canute frantically searched for the cause behind his cracking resolve, a gentle arm reached out to lay atop his chest, your fingers timidly grasping his white nightgown. In an instant, the severed head disappeared and so did his mocking laughter.

The blonde turned his head slowly. He felt warmth spread through his body from his chest, flowing upwards to his neck, shoulders, arms and face and downwards to his waist, legs and feet, relaxing muscles Canute had not even noticed were tense. Only then did he notice how cold and stiff he had been before.

His body sunk deeper into the mattress under the weight of your arm. How lonely it had been to sleep alone all this time, Canute recognised. Your very essence seemed to engulf him, and you were not even aware.

He chuckled, pondering what expression you would wear when you’d wake up in this unusual position, though with Canute’s acute lack of sleep, he would likely wake up after you and not be graced by your amusing reaction.

He’d just have to find other ways to fluster you then.

—

Hey so I hope this fandom is not completely dead and that this isn’t too out of character for the two :3

[struckdownn]

Can’t hide who you are

[emma-ofnormandy]

He has lost something much greater which cannot be returned. Love.

Vikings: Valhalla 2.6- Leap of Faith

[tetsaii]

Canute the biggest aura farmer and cuntserver in the North Sea

[upsiiidupsiii]

Knut/Canute x fem!reader (in which you are Askeladd's daughter)

/!\ Tome 8 (or 9 i can't remember) spoiler

/!\ mention of death

wc : 1748

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You were wandering around, not far from King Sven’s estate, when you heard commotions coming from the palace. Not thinking much of it at first, you minded your own business, kicking some rocks on the ground with your foot. Sighing, you looked up at the night sky. The stars were kind tonight, bright enough that you could clearly see the constellations. You put your hand up, as if you were trying to catch them. You reckoned that night a few weeks ago, when Knut had told you that if he could, he would bring them to you. 

You chuckled at the memory. You two had sneaked out to stargaze next to a frozen lake, hiding from your father’s surveillance. Knut looked so pretty under the soft moonlight. 

The fact that he had been so easy to talk to had been surprising, but it had been rather pleasant. 

After all, it hadn’t been hard to get close to each other. As the daughter of Askeladd, and him as the prince of Danemark, you two had been put under high surveillance. And since it wasn’t the most exciting thing, you two had talked a lot. One thing led to another and you had become more than friends, but less than lovers. How could you, daughter of a Viking captain, hope to ever have something with a Royal family member? 

Still, he had looked at you with kind, almost loving eyes. You realized that night, next to the frozen lake, surrounded by soft snow, that you loved him. The stars reflected in his pale blue eyes. Yet, you said nothing. He couldn’t love you back, and you didn’t want to make things awkward between the two of you. 

You were aware of the political tensions surrounding Knut, his heritage, your father and the war. But you were oh so tired of it. At first, you didn’t even wanted to follow your father. He had brought you along, and you didn’t even knew why. 

But in the end, you didn’t hold a grudge, because it allowed you to meet Knut. And without a doubt, it was the best thing to ever happen to you. 

Lately, you noticed more that the prince was burdened by the expectations, that everyone –including Askeladd– wanted to manipulate him for their own needs. Of course you knew about corruption, and it generally didn’t bother you. But in some way, since Knut was the subject of this corruption, you felt a need to protect him, to shield him from your father’s schemes and the World's shenanigans. But who were you to do that? It’s not like you knew how to fight better than these men, it’s not like they would give up their prey because you were guarding it. 

This world was relentless and you were helpless. Sure, you knew how to hold a dagger and defend yourself. Your father wouldn’t have taken you with him without making sure you could fend for yourself as long as he needed to get back to you and fight instead of you. 

But to fight against an army to protect Knut? You knew better than to even dream of it. 

But you were pulled out of your thoughts by the commotions. You frowned slightly, glancing towards King Sven’s castle. You were used to men being loud, but something felt off this time. You carefully stepped closer, a sudden feeling of dread settling in your stomach. 

You heard Knut’s voice. He was talking in an authoritative way, which was unusual for the soft boy he usually was. You tried to come closer, you tried to enter the building, but Thorkell grabbed your waist and led you away. You struggled against him, but it was no use. 

“Prince Knut told me to keep you safe, so you’re going to stay away.” Thorkell claimed, tying you to a tree. Because he knew that if he told you to stay away, you were most likely to not obey and run into trouble. 

The feeling of dread wasn’t gone, and didn’t go away for the endless minutes you struggled against your bounds. You could see from afar the panic and the chaos that was unfolding. Though, it didn’t seem to look like a battlefield. You tried to untie yourself, but you only managed to burn your wrists. With a sigh, you gave up and just pried to not be forgotten out here in the cold. About an hour later, you finally saw Thorkell and Knut coming your way. “It’s about time.” You grumbled as Thorkell untied you. You immediately noticed the two men were unusually quiet. Thorkell gave a look at Knut and walked away, leaving the prince alone with you. You frowned and glanced at Knut. 

“Is everything okay? What happened in there?” You asked, the dread finally coming back like a tidal wave. You looked around the landscape, noticing how the crowd had tamed. 

Knut took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Askeladd –your father– is dead. I killed him.”

You froze, slowly turning your head towards him. “...What?” You weren’t particularly close with your father. He dealt with your presence and you just survived around him. But there were some times, rare and short moments, when he really felt like your father more than a Viking captain that treated you like a burden. Sometimes, you wondered if he would have treated you differently if you had been a boy. 

But right now, Askeladd’s sudden death left a hole in your chest. You didn’t know how to react. That’s when you realized you didn’t know what was going to happen next. Your father had always been there to protect you, to shield you from his men and from enemies. Your fists tightened by your side, your jaw clenched. You felt helpless, desperately alone and upset. “I’m sorry.” Knut added. 

“You’re sorry?” You huffed. “You killed my father and you’re sorry?” You turned to face him, hitting his chest, but you had no strength to really hurt him. 

He let you hit him, without saying anything. It upsetted you more than you cared to admit. Everything was a mess in your head : you were surprised you cared that much about your father, you were mad at Knut for killing him and yet you still loved him. How could that make sense? You didn’t understand. You felt so conflicted it hurt your chest.

Your legs suddenly felt weak. You sat on the ground, putting your hands in your head. Knut watched you carefully, crouching down before you. 

“I won’t leave you alone. You’re staying with me, if that’s what you want.” Knut stated softly, putting a hand on your shoulder, making sure to not startle you. “You don’t have to be on your own.” 

You pushed his hand away swiftly, glaring at him. How dared he touch you with the blood of your father on his hands?

His eyes widened for a moment, his hand hovering, before he sighed and pulled back completely. He stood up, looking at you with sadness and understanding. 

“I’ll be over there whenever you’re ready to talk.” He told you, his tone soft. He started to walk away but he stopped and turned to you. “He died fighting, he was a brave man.” ☙❧

A couple hours later, you finally decided to go to the castle. The night was falling and the cold was rising once again. You had spent the last hours thinking about your situation and about how you felt about it. You hadn’t seen Askeladd’s corpse, you didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want to corrupt the image and idea you had of your father by seeing his dead body. You didn’t know what they’ve done with him, you didn’t want to know. You didn’t accept his death. Once you stepped inside the castle, you were met with soldiers pointing their weapons at you, calling you a slave and telling you to leave. You glanced up, frowning. Knut dismissed them quickly.

You looked at him, crossing your arms. “You got yourself a crown?” You asked. 

“I did.” He replied, smiling slightly. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks. 

“So what? You’re like…the King now?” You looked around the room, watching men cleaning the blood off the walls and ground. 

“Actually, yeah. I am.” 

Your head snapped back to Knut, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. 

He stroked the back of his neck awkwardly. “Did you know your father was actually the son of a Danish Lord and a Welsh noblewoman?” He asked you. You frowned, confused. “What? I don’t…” You paused for a second, thinking. “I don’t know anything about my ancestors…” You admitted. “I don’t even have a single memory of my mother.” 

Knut nodded, looking away for a moment. When he finally put his eyes back on you, his gaze was hopeful. “If… what Askeladd said about his parents and ancestors is true, it means you have noble blood…” Your eyes widened slightly as you started to understand where he was going. “You don’t mean..” 

“I mean that we can be together. Officially. I want to make you my Queen. I want to be yours.” He admitted, looking straight into your eyes. 

Your stomach dropped and felt as if a hundred butterflies were flying into it. You suddenly felt giddy, heat creeping onto your neck and cheeks. “You can’t be serious, Knut.. It’s foolish.” 

“It would be foolish to not take that chance.” He cut you, stepping closer to your form. “I want you to be safe. Now that your father is dead, please let me take care of you. I beg you, let me be your King.” He cupped one of your cheeks gently, as if he was holding a precious diamond. You stared at him in disbelief, but you nodded. “Of course I want that…” You took a deep breath. “But I’m still going to make you pay for killing my father…” You murmured, smiling faintly, not really making a serious threat. You were probably going to glare at him from afar and avoid him for a few days at most. 

“If in the end I get to be completely yours, that’s alright with me.” He murmured, hugging you. He rested his head on top of yours, closing his eyes, content. 

You pinched his side, and he shrieked, jerking away quickly like a scared cat. “Hey!” 

“That’s what you get for killing my father then asking for my hand.” You countered, flipping your hair.

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-> This is not proofread! And english is not my first language so pleaseeeee be kind <3

-> please do not copy, feed to AI and do not put on applications such as character.ai.

-> this is the only account I have. I have not put these on AO3 yet (I don't know if I will, I'm scared)

[reanicyy]

i love how opposite they are, they really just switched mindsets 😭