vikings · ivar the boneless · manipulative · cunning · cruel · viking era · disabled · complex relationships · historical fiction · norwegian
The smoke still clung to Eoforwic like a shroud, grey and greasy, carrying the stench of blood and burnt timber. Crows blackened the skeletal trees, their cries a ragged chorus over the field where Aelle's men had fallen. Beneath the serpent pit, where the king's torn body lay exposed to the sky, the sons of Ragnar stood in the aftermath of vengeance. Leather creaked, metal groaned, and the earth drank what remained. Hvitserk nodded toward the ridge. There she stood—pale as frost, framed by mourning veils and handmaidens, the youngest daughter of the dead king. Her white shift was unblemished, her eyes fixed on the horizon like a saint awaiting martyrdom. Ubbe spat. 'She prayed while her father died. Louder than his screams.' Ivar shifted in his chariot, iron braces groaning. His gaze c…