nephilimsss

selene

selene's a twenty-one year old aspiring writer who usually writes on wattpad. she updates slowly and changes interests at most once a week.

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Devotion. Hvitserk Lothbrok

devotion. hvitserk lothbrok

PAIRING ➨ hvitserk lothbrok x freyja

GENRE ➨ (somewhat) smut, historical fiction, fantasy.

SUMMARY ➨ the goddess of war, freyja, is put onto kattegat to aid the lothbroks during their future raids. both the seer and aslaug have seen her coming, and the queen welcomes her with open arms. catching the eye of hvitserk lothbrok, she treats him as no one has done before; as an equal, instead of a dog.

WARNINGS ➨ smutty themes (no actual smut this chapter)

WORD COUNT ➨

SELENE NOTE ➨ this was a spur of the moment fic, so there might be some misinformation, though i tried to do as much research as i could on freyja! in this fic, freyja is blonde and blue eyed. according to the myths, she is described as having “long flowing blond hair, blue eyes and a gorgeous figure which she doesn't mind flaunting, as she often appears naked to her worshipers.” i also imagined her face claim to be emilia clarke as daenerys targaryen, but much taller. here’s what she wears this chapter: https://www.pinterest.de/pin/304485624800233705/ for the norse terminology, i used both @honestsycrets‘s references and from this site: https://www.vikingsofbjornstad.com/Old_Norse_Dictionary_E2N.shtm !

MASTERLIST

feeling something press against her ankle, freyja’s eyebrows furrow, creating deep creases on her glabella, pressing her cheek deeper into the pillows she rested on. her foot flicked up, almost like a cow’s ear flicking away a fly, trying to knock away whatever hovered over her. however, it continued, moving up her calf, up to her thigh, then to the softness of her hips, and feeling it tickle against the exposed skin, she realizes of what it could be. “good morning,” hvitserk’s voice was tranquil in the still air of dawn, his hand moving down to the velvety folds in between her legs, middle finger circling her bundle of nerves, freyja’s mouth opening in a silky sigh. “no one but us is awake,” he whispered into her ear, nipping at the satiny skin of her neck.

“is it that early in the morning?” she moans, arching her neck to give him more room to continue his assault.

“you said that you’ll be here for me in the morning!” he whines, actually whines, his hand landing on her neck, fingers wrapping around into they could touch the back, where her spine was, his pointer finger on top of her ear as his middle finger felt the lobe. the goddess’ lips quirk up in a smile, “i guess i did, hvitserk.” her left leg wrapped around his waist, using her strength to roll them both over, hvitserk landing on his back as if he were deadweight. “then i have a promise to fulfill.”

when hvitserk walked into the great hall, a hush falls over the waking individuals, a pep in his step as he made his way towards the table where his family sat. they had all heard everything. the thump of the bed against the wall, the soprano moans that verberated out of the room into the halls, the guttural groans that accompanied them, and then, the call of the names within the room.

hvitserk and freyja.

when the prince walked towards the table to fill his belly with the warm breakfast the thralls had cooked, they noticed slight differences in him. his gait was jovial, his hair perfectly laid with braids freyja had taken her time to place, his skin glowed, his eyes held a euphoric look. “it seems as if he was fucked to valhalla and back,” sigurd calls out, the men in the hall cheering the second eldest on, some clapping his shoulder as he pulled the chair from under the table. he didn’t dare look his mother in the eye, afraid of what she would do since hearing him fuck the goddess she worshipped. would she congratulate him? punish him? he didn’t want to know the answer to that last one.

“i heard you had sex with freyja,” aslaug’s voice boomed in the great hall. hvitserk nodded, twirling his fork in his fingers as he continued to eye the food placed on his plate. he tensed, readying himself to earning a slap to the face or a fork thrown in his direction. instead, his mother’s face eased into a smile, her hand reaching out to hold her son’s hand in hers. “it seems as if my son hvitserk has been chosen by the goddess of war, freyja!” the others cheer, raising their cups or horns in the air. “but, it also seems as he was chosen to help her bring forth more kind!” more clamor, people smacking hvitserk on the back, the lothbrok feeling the small pangs of discomfort from underneath the green kyrtill freyja had helped him put on. hvitserk sighs heavily when one of the slaps he received caused the torn piece of chicken in his hand to fall, landing on the wooded ground below him, someone else stepping on top of it. it was no longer salvageable.

freyja stepped into the great hall, her falcon feather cloak seeming as it if were floating behind her, and as she moved her arm to pull away the right side of it from her body, two cats walked out and meowed, their coats a blue so subtle it was almost gray, emerald green irises looking around the halls. bygul and trjegul wandered around, the latter of which jumped up on one of the tables, staring directly at a man simply known as solveig, squinting his eyes as he waited to be fed. solveig tears a piece from the chicken leg he had, placing it in front of him.

purring, trjegul eats, licking the table clean after the meat had been eaten, his eyes closing slowly in happiness. he leaps off the table, walking gracefully along the floor towards freyja. reaching her hand out, trjegul jumps, taking her arm in his paws. quickly turning her arm around so he was upright, she presses him against her chest, her left hand coming up to stroke the fur behind his ear, purrs pouring from his mouth. freyja walks from the doorway of the hall to where hvitserk sat, watching him as he petted bygul, the cat tilting his head in content. placing a hand on hvitserk’s shoulder, she sits down on the empty spot next to him, chin resting against the top of her hand. sitting made her feel uncomfortable, feeling the all too familiar ache between her legs leaving a feeling of want, the goddess crossing her legs at the ankles to help alleviate it. “he’s never let anyone else touch him,” she softly remarks, she presses a kiss at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet.

hvitserk shudders lightly, biting his bottom lip to stop a wanton moan from slipping out, but a few of the men that stood close laughed, knowing that the simple kiss gave him a reaction that he tried to hold back. “i’m glad that i am the first,” he turns to face her, taking her chin gently in his hand, leading her to his lips. hearing loud cheers coming from the men around them, freyja chuckles into the kiss. placing her free hand onto hvitserk’s soft cheek, she deepens the kiss for a second before pulling away, “we are still at the table with your family. i don’t think that it is proper.”

his cheeks flushing a bright pink, he turns away from her, stabbing his fork onto the fish his mother’s maids had cooked. ivar, while still remaining a bit jealous that it was his brother the goddess favored, still chuckled at the fool he had made of himself, the deep blush on his cheeks, the awkward silence he had taken on.

just that small comment from freyja made him stumble over his own two feet, so what made him so special that she had chosen him for procreation? hvitserk was the quieter of the brothers, always following the strongest, which was why he was margrethe’s second choice. he was always after ubbe. ivar didn’t care that he wasn’t even a choice for her. it meant that he was unattainable, something his brothers knew nothing about. almost every woman in kattegat has had a taste of them, and someday, they’re going to realize that they didn’t like them, and would all want ivar.

but a rage burned deep inside of him. ubbe was always said to have been an exact copy of ragnar, their diplomatic father that had led them to rich lands, hvitserk now laid with the goddess of war, said to be the most beautiful in asgard, sigurd was born with the serpent-dragon fafnir in his eye, and ivar. . . he was born with frail bones and imponent. hvitserk must have had many unidentified children running around kattegat with how much he had slept around, and ivar. . . he could barely stand on his own.

that thought alone made him want to kill his brothers.

Devotion. Hvitserk Lothbrok

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