A/N: Hey guys! How are you all doing so far?
I know it's been a while since I last posted anything, but life and school grabbed it's hold on me again. So, sporadic and slow updates for the near future once again.
I gotta question for all of you, and please give me honest answers because I WILL read your comments. If I were to one day publish "Hyrrokkin and the Boneless" as a novel, like an actual honest-to-God physical, paper-paged novel, would any of you be interested in buying it for yourself to read? Sure, I would change up a few things so I can't be sued for copyright claims, but yea *shrugs*.
Okay, this chapter is about 8 pages long, so it's short compared to the other chapters. It's Ivar's POV as per the format of the story so far, and the next chapter will be in Ursula's :). Also, Ursula finally reveals to Ivar that she's from the future :D!
Keep the comments coming please! I love reading and responding to them when I get the chance!
Also, I hope you are all staying happy, healthy, and safe out there!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter VI
Ivar didn't know what to expect when Ursula had given him that kiss. He really didn't, but it is something that he'll most definitely not complain about.
He had not forgotten about what Hans did to Ursula. How he had left a bruise on her face, how he raised his voice to her, and most certainly had not forgotten how he made her cry.
So, he planned for the right moment to confront and humiliate him in public the same way he had done to Ursula. It had taken him almost a month, but he managed to do it.
Ivar had made his way to Hans just as he was open his stall to start selling his furs. By now, everyone knew that Ivar had taken on "Hyrrokkin" as a slave. Which, in turn, made sure they were all deathly afraid of even the thought of the slightest of offenses. Hans knew of the transfer and by his sickly pallor, he had shown just how afraid of Ivar he truly is. There is no denying it when those icy wolfish eyes of Fenrir shined through Ivar's. Even if the Prince is a cripple and had to drag himself across the ground, there is no denying that bloodthirsty predatorial expression.
Ivar stopped within a few feet of Hans looking him straight in the eyes as he said in a deceptively soft voice, "I assume you know now."
Hans could only nod in response. Of course, he knew. The whole of Kattegat knew that Hyrrokkin is now virtually untouchable thanks to Ivar. Which is quite ironic seeing as Ivar had more power over the kingdom than even the Queen or his brothers combined. And wasn't that a horrifying thought to consider.
It took hours before Ivar had taken the bloodied merchant to the center of Kattegat's town square. Hours of slashing, stabbing, and carving into the man's very flesh. Bruising his face, ribs, and using other methods to prolong his suffering.
Until Ursula stopped him. She had grabbed him and even dragged him away with very little effort. It shocked him to the point of having difficulties hearing her voice telling him to stop. No one had done that before. They were either too scared or full of contemptuous emotions to do anything.
Then she starting to slowly breathe deeply, and he could feel himself following her example. He leaned just a bit more into her silently relishing the feel of her soft breasts against his back. His eyes closed as he focused on reining in his anger and bloodlust. Just her touch had been enough to sooth the edges in his soul, to calm the raging storm in his heart, yet at the same time brought a blood-rage stronger than when he and his brothers sparred or hunted in the woods. It is exhilaratingly heady in its intense power.
Then the muffled voices of his eldest brother and Ursula echoed in his ears before he felt her tense up. There is a barely heard but felt sharp intake of breath causing to react to her apprehensiveness. He bared his teeth at the culprit not fully registering that it was Bjorn – not that he cared in the least – until Ursula placed pressure on his chest unconsciously bringing him closer to her.
And then the kiss. It had been indescribable. It warmed him in places that he never previously considered, and it also ached in ways he had never felt before.
The softness of her touch, the consideration to her explorations, the utter strength of her plush body against his as he held her closer to him had been – and still is – indescribable. Ivar is very quickly learning that she is his treasure. A woman rare and far more worthy than to be reduced to mere lustfully selfish intentions from men who would never respect her – men who would never see her as a woman rather a means to an end.
And she is his now and no one else has the right to claim her as theirs while he still drew breath out of his flesh and bone.
The days that followed their kiss were spent in a quiet, nonpublic courtship. Neither one of them said anything that started the process, but it did begin and is still happening as well.
Ivar started finding new ways to make her produce that transforming smile that took his very breath away while his heart pounded in his chest. The household workload had also lessened on her as he took to cooking dinner whenever she could hardly stand on her feet any longer than necessary. He quickly learned what she enjoyed and what she didn't care much for to have or use in her daily life.
Ursula is a very practical, pragmatic yet sentimental woman. This he knew by observing her subtle behavioral ticks out in public and when they were alone in the privacy of the longhouse. She never once lingered on the face paints that his mother is fond of using, sneered in disgust at the sight of silk, and never bought any jewels to adorn her neck, ears, ankles, or wrists. Yet she always looked at the rings that traders would bring in to sell. The one ring she would always look and linger on is made of silver shaped to look like a blossoming flower with a single small purple jewel at it's very center.
"That's an amethyst." She had said in a soft yet somber tone. "It's the jewel belonging to the third month of winter and is said to be for those born within that month."
He didn't say anything in response but had took a long look at the ring again. The Moorish man looked at their exchange with a wary and suspiciously curious glance. However, Ivar paid him little mind as he then brought out his coin pouch and asked (ie. Demanded), "How much?"
Ursula had looked at him with that wide-eyed look of intense surprise and hope, but most of his attention was on the trader who fidgeted, twiddling his hands as he gave a price of fifty silvers. Ivar thought that to be bit-overpriced, but he didn't give it much thought as he pulled out a leather-bound stack of exactly 50 silvers placing it front of the stunned trader. He gently extracted the ring from its confinement, grabbed Ursula's hand with a tenderness that further shocked the onlookers that had listened in on the interaction. The ring is then placed on the fourth finger of her left hand drawing a sharp intake of breath from Ursula.
Ivar looked up at her to see her ocean-colored eyes become turbulent intensely with emotions she can't actively express in public. He would have to wait until they were in private to ask, but for now the smile that settled in Ran's oceans made him feel accomplished.
Once he heard the increasing volume of murmurs and whispers from the townsfolk, a sharp glare promising death on those that affected his giantess even more than necessary. That quickly put them in their place as they went about their business.
He looked up at her as a quiet snort of laughter came from his giantess subtly showing his confusion to her reaction. Ursula simply gave a smile – one that is small but full of warmth that he felt spreading throughout his body.
With a slight tilt of his head, they continued to venture through the market. Ivar would watch as Ursula looked at the wares with a purposeful calculation before she lingered over a stall for fabrics. Not silks, he noticed, but heavy durable fabrics that were meant for luxury and practical usage. Ivar watched curiously as her fingers touched each fabric carefully as if she is afraid of somehow ruining it. Ridiculous, but once he saw the irritable fidgeting of the thin, bird-like face of the woman manning the stall, he realized that Ursula is doing it out of respect and caution.
He glared at the thin, willowy woman feeling not in the least bit remorseful in the ashen pallor she took on when she realized just who Ursula "belonged" to. In fact, he very much relished in the power he had over the people of Kattegat. Ivar saw it as payment for all the prejudiced torment they had directed at him for much of his life. And he wouldn't hesitate to do to them that he had done to Hans if they had in any manner even thought of doing it to Ursula. That is most definitely a promise in its purest form.
"Do you need them?" He asked her softly knowing that if he had said "want" she would hesitate to say what she wanted to him.
She bit her lip before giving a slow, hesitate nod clearly not wanting to admit that she wanted the fabrics. "Some of my dresses need repairs, and I would like to make some clothes for the winter, minn Budlungr."
Ivar heard the underlining meaning in her words. Their clothes needed repairs and she wanted to be the one to do it to her own standards – which were pretty damn high – rather than have someone else accomplish it and end up having to fix their mistakes instead. That, and she really did need new dresses. Mother gave out substandard wool and linen dresses to all her slaves that never lasted for very long. No money or materials would be given to them to replace their clothes once they needed to be mended or became ruined.
Most of Ursula's clothes were from her time in mother's service and they were reaching their limits in how much can be salvaged. Ivar had only given Ursula five new, high quality-made solid-color dresses fit for nobility when she had been transferred over to him. So, once again, he didn't hesitate to buy ten large bundles of the high-quality fabrics and to have them delivered to the longhouse. Ivar also had furs delivered to the longhouse in exchange for the extra coin he gave the greedy trader.
There were whispers traveling all around the marketplace by the time they left for the privacy of their shared space. Food had been bought, and Ivar made sure to get Ursula some new fur-lined boots for the upcoming winter, a hand-carven hair comb, spun wool for weaving, and stopped by the forge to pick up the maul that he had been working on her.
Ursula never felt comfortable using swords, she told him, that she had been far more confident using either a one-handed maul or even the standard war-hammers instead. "Blunt force trauma is far more deadly than simply running someone through with a sword. Slicing someone open can be healed with a few stitches, some herbs to prevent infection, and then you get a nice scar as a trophy. Or aiming a blade in the heart, cutting someone's head off, to give a merciful death. Hitting someone with a maul or war-hammer will cause to bleed on the inside that can't be drained properly and therefore make the insides fester with infection. Making it much harder to treat and cure. It is not a merciful death whatsoever."
Ivar had been shocked to learn of this, but it made the most sense. He had also been rather surprised at Ursula's rather ruthless methods at warfare just by mentioning such a fact as well. It only made his attraction to her all the stronger.
The blacksmith, Halfnir, helped in carrying the maul to the longhouse without much protest. He is a man in his mid-40's with greying brown hair, dark eyes and soot covered skin built like an ox and as gruff as one. Ivar never minded him much. They left each other to their own business while they worked the forge together. There is another blacksmith in Kattegat, but he severely mistreats his son for being partially crippled and slower than most his age.
Ivar had visited the man once and that had been enough. It had been enough that Ivar would kill him if he ever tried it with either himself or with Ursula – especially if it is towards Ursula.
Halfnir looked between the two of them before snorting in amusement before picking up the maul and following them towards the longhouse. He never said a word and didn't ask questions either which Ivar appreciated very much.
Once they entered, Ivar watched as Ursula wasted no time in putting everything away limping a bit more noticeably than usual. He nodded towards Halfnir, giving him a few gold pieces in thanks before setting out to help alleviate her burden.
He watched as she put away the food in places that he could reach if need be, then put away the fabrics and furs in her room to be used, all the while with that ring still firmly on her finger. It suited her, that he will admit even if it is to himself. Far more than he realized, and it made him hope that she never takes it off. Ivar still remembered her reaction to the ring and it definitely made him curious.
That night as Ursula used her old clothes as fire kindling, which amused him to no end, Ivar couldn't wait any longer.
"When I bought that ring," He took note of the complicated expression she had as her eyes met his. "You were a bit … shocked."
A half-smile appeared on her face before she glanced at it resting on her finger. "I was, and still am actually."
Ivar saw as her expression grew more pensive and turbulent as she started sewing a new set of clothes. As much as he hated it, Ivar knew he had to be patient otherwise Ursula would have a much harder time saying what's on her mind. So, he waited, his eyes watching as she weaved her needle and thread through the fabric with the ease of a master seamstress – something that amazed him to no end.
He moved closer to her as she sighed and looked up at him. The eyes of Aegir's oceans looked back at him, stormy but earnest. Her voice, rough but soft as she spoke, "This is going to shock you and," She hesitated again, lightly biting her lip, before continuing, "I'm not sure if I should be telling you this."
Ivar thought back to the first night he had seen and spoke to her,
She looked into the blue eyes of Ivar and nodded as she found a napkin to wipe her face with. Ursula made sure to slip into the Icelandic tongue for them to better understand what she is trying to say. "Yes, I'm a Dane, but I was raised elsewhere. Towards the far northwest of here."
"Do we know of this place?"
"Not until the year 874."
"Is it related to what you said the first time we spoke?" Ivar could feel his thoughts working quickly to provide multiple conclusions just as they had before. And they just became even more outlandish with each passing thought. He felt his blood turn to both ice and fire seeing the nod Ursula gave as a reply before she spoke.
"Yes, it is." She sighed as her hands clutched the fabric in her hands tightly. "I'm not from this time period Ivar."
Oh. Oh. Ivar couldn't help the widening of his eyes as he looked at Ursula's imploring eyes not once gleaming with trickery or dishonesty. That is definitely not what he expected at all.
"I know it sounds absolutely crazy, but it's true! I swear it is!" His hand grabbed a hold of her smaller ones effectively quietening her as he rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.
"As outlandish as it seems … I am not completely in disbelief." The relief coming from Ursula was palpable as she gave one of her breathtaking smiles to reflect that.
"Thank you." She became pensive again for a moment or so. "Just before Bjorn brought me here, the year, for me, had been 2018."
His grip on her hand tightened in response to his shock, his mind racing even further, but he kept his mouth shut. "So, everything that's happened already …?"
"I've had prior knowledge, yes. And I do have knowledge of what could happen in the future, but it's not set-in-stone, so to speak." Ivar took in the relaxed lines of her shoulders suddenly realizing just how much it has affected her. "Heh, since I didn't account for me being here, that is."
This got a twitching smile out of him before wrapping his arm around her shoulders to bring her closer to him. Ursula didn't fight him rather willingly leaned into his touch as she laid her forehead gently against his own. She closed her eyes and seemed to breath a lot more easily than before relaxing even further than before.
Ivar watched as the light from the flames danced across her supple face. A fire burned bright than Surtr's as he realized just how deeply bewitched he is towards Ursula. And he most certainly didn't care one bit.
A/N: Okay, before anyone asks how it had gotten from Ivar asking about Ursula's reaction to the ring to him seemingly forgetting about it, that's because of the shock of him being told that the woman he's got feelings for and is courting is from the very far distant future.
He did not, in any way, forget about it. He's just processing a LOT right now and needs to sort it out before properly addressing it is all.