Harald Imagine - Tumblr Posts

Watchful King- Vikings

     Summary:  A new queen arrives, catching the eye of King Harald      Warnings: staring?       Word Count: 

   The woman's hair was pitch black. The night-dark hair was not shiny, instead, it was dull, yet smooth. It was mostly down, laid freely upon her strong shoulders, but the loose strands was up in a braid that encircled her head, cleaning the extra hairs out of her gorgeous eyes.            Her eyes, they were the first things that Harald noticed. One of them were pitch black, even darker than her hair that blew in the misty sea breeze as she waited for her companions to gather their things from the covered wooden boat. The other was a glowing yellow, darker than the color of the midday sun, but lighter than the fiery amber of the wolf's eyes. Under her eyes were dark bags that showed weeks on a boat with little to no rest. Slight signs of aging were also present on her high cheek-boned face. Around her eyes resided the faintest wrinkles, along with the very edges of her lips, where a cheeky half-smirk was waiting to disappear.           She wore a thin black dress, mostly plain if you could ignore the small, delicate white and black jewels that edged the bottom, U-form neckline, and long sleeves that started out tight and ended very loose around her wrists. A single white raven was embroidered in the center of the dress's chest. The raven's head was facing sideways, with only a single black jewel sewn into it. The black material clung to her body form with the help of a thin, jewl encrested black belt. She had a curved waist, though it was not as thin as a younger woman's, showing that she had borne multiple children in the past. Her hips were wide, though not to an exceeding amount, and her overall body size was small, not even over 5-foot and defiantly under 110 pounds. This amused Harald greatly, how could a woman with such stature also have the face of a wise queen and the sturdy shape of a fierce warrior?           Over the body that King Harald was admiring was a thick cape of a single white bear skin. Towards the bottom and sides of this coat that laid upon her shoulders were the skins of white foxes. Her covering went down to her heels, making it treacherous for whenever she would step back. Around the woman's neck she wore a single silver chain that held no gem. Above this, was the skin of a white wolf with a light grey back that hung as a stiff scarf. She clutched the warm signs of her lively-hood tightly, but not because she was cold, no,  she was hiding something...          Shifting his gaze lower, the skilled eyes of Halfdan's older brother could see the hidden dark brown hilt of a large dagger. She had one hand on it, revealing the many rings that decorated her narrow fingers. There were five of them, one on each finger except with her thumb, which had none, and her ring finger, which held two. Every ring was silver, besides the extra golden one, designed with a lavender gem- dumortierie.           Looking at this woman, Harald could tell that she was not only a rich person and a determined fighter, but that she also was a queen. But it wasn't just the clothes that gave this away. Harald watched silently with his taller sibling as the unknown ruler made her way too the gathering hall, holding her young son's hand, and closely followed by a beserker, also covered in a bear skin though darker, and four shield-maidens, holding shields that bore the infamous black eye, with a black wolf's head looking down, and a grey wolf howling.            So this was the woman whom Ragnar Lothbrok had betrayed for a princess. He had left a wise warrior queen for a selfish and hallucinating princess. How odd.            But Harald payed no attention to this as he quietly approached the Hall, keeping his eye on her as he called for his brother to come.                                        Her.                                                  His soon-to-be queen.

Family Chains

A/N-  Full force fluff that i am almost ashamed for writing....almost.

Summary:  Bjorn’s step-daughter has a bad relationship with him, he wants to fix that.

“Father!”

“Daddy!”

    Two pairs of short, chubby legs went running past your legs as you stood next to the table, rocking a younger trouble maker in your arms. 

    Turning on your heel, the door of the cozy home was now fully opened, and there your towering husband stood, crouching down quickly to greet his oldest children with open hugs. he was back, finally, after 6 months of raiding. The elder, a blond-haired boy who looked exactly like his father, named Erik, was the first to pull away from the hug.

“Father! You have to come and see Alva!” 

   A questioning glaze went over Bjorn’s face just before he looked up and noticed you standing at the table. He grinned lightly and stood to his full height, gently rubbing his son’s hair before slowly closing the door behind him and walking towards you. 

   “Y/N? Is it-” He cut himself off when he looked down, seeing quite possibly the smallest baby ever.

   “A little girl, my husband,” You smiled sadly,”She was anxious to get out and meet us all.”

   “I’m sorry I wasn’t- I thought-”

    You shushed him softy, taking a hand out from under the tiny bundle and laying it on the side of your husband’s scarred face.

   “It’s not your fault, Bjorn. She was born a month early, there was no way we could’ve known.”

        A silent, calming moment passed, with you staring gently at your returned husband while he stared down at his newest wonder.

     Of course, good moments like these reminded your of your first husband, whom you had not spoken to in over four years.

    “Mother!” Eira, your and your ex-husband’s only child called from her bedroom, demanding attention.

   An annoyed look betrayed Bjorn’s happiness but he quickly tried to cover it up with the joy of being home with his children again. 

  “Erik, my son. Did you improve in your swordmenship?” His tone changed completely as he turned and looked down at his son who was playfully chatting to his younger sister, Asta, who also had blonde hair. 

    Your young son opened his mouth to reply, but his sister beat him to it,”Father, I got better at shooting with a bow!” she bounced on her toes, “Do you want to see?”

   Bjorn giggled, shaking his head slowly but still with a smile on his face when he noticed how his son’s ire had been raised/

   “Mother!” Eira called once again from the other room, her tone more annoyed now, after waiting. 

    Bjorn looked back at you, but you stopped him before he could walk out the door behind his children, “Here” With clumsy, but strong hands your husband let you place your newest creation in his hands. He held her close, nearly shaking.

    But you stepped away, and went to the bedroom, where your daughter lay. 

----

    “I want to go back home.” Your daughter spoke with a sharp tongue, a bit to sharp for her age of 6. But that made her special. Her long, brown hair was just like her father, a king’s. Of course, he was known for his hair. While you were known for your intelligence. 

    “This is your home, Eira.” She rolled her eyes at your words sighing, and turning her head away from you. 

                 You both were sitting outside, with little Alva in you arms, Asta and Erik training with Bjorn, and Eira sitting next to you, against the wooden house’s outer wall. It was a beautiful day,the sun shone brightly as Bjorn jumped from one foot to another, causing an outburst of giggles from his watching children.

   “Eira, I know that you dislike Bjorn bbecause he married me-”

   “It’s not just that mother!” she cried, flipping her head dramatically to look you in the eye,”I want father, my real father to be here! I want him to raise me and teach me how to fight!”

   Your heart beated faster. If only she knew...But you couldn’t contain it anymore, she had to know.

    “Eira, your father, Harald, chose his kingdom and another woman over us. You know this! Bjorn showed me what love is like, Eira. And, maybe, some day you’ll understand what kind of man your real father was. But until that day comes, Bjorn is your real father. He has helped raised you since you were only a toddler.” 

    Eira’s mouth hung open, quickly closing it she gazed down at the grass under her feet.

    “Eira...” You sigh, taking one hand free from the baby in your arms and reaching over to put a supporting one on your silently crying daughter.”I love you Eira. And I want you to know that Bjorn loves you, too. And...well, you father didn’t want us to go, but we had to, he left me- us no choice.”

     As you explained the predicament, you missed the steady gaze and stealthy ear of your husband, who was a hunter by blood. His heart clenched when you stated how King Harald still loved your daughter. 

    Maybe...he would have to get better at filling holes in little girls hearts.

------

     Later that night found you sleeping in the same bed as Erik and Asta, while Bjorn moved away to check on a pouting Eira. 

   She looked up at the large man with dark, blue eyes that were red and puffy from crying. 

   Bjorn bent down low, so he was even with her on the small bed. 

“I love you, Eira. Just as i love your mother and all your siblings.” This simple statement had her almost crying again. “And..I want you to know that no matter what happens,” he pulled out an armband, not used for warriors but just for decoration. It was small, but thick, the right size for her thin wrist. “I will always look after you and your mother.”

  She took the gift with shaking hands. Bjorn stood and went to walk away, but a small voice called him back.

   “You..promise?”

He grinned and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah...” Gripping his own armband that Ragnar had given him a long time ago,”I promise.”