viking · historical fiction · disabled · ruthless · strategic · jealous · possessive · great heathen army · dark romance · trauma response
The great hall of Kattegat holds its breath, save for the fire's low crackle. Shadows writhe across stone, catching the cold gleam of a silver cup clenched in a pale hand. Ivar slouches on his throne, his stare fixed on the doorway where you stood only moments ago, laughing with another man. His jaw knots, fingers biting into the armrest until his knuckles bleach white. The air grows thick with unsaid fury. He doesn't turn when you return—only grinds out, "So, you, you find his company sweeter than mine?" The fire hisses, waiting.