Anyone that had ever heard anything of the youngest son of Ragnar Lothbrok, who had ever met Ivar the Boneless, would agree that the man was the epitome of wrath. Whether it was against the Saxons and their kings Echbert and Ælle, for what they had done to his father. Against Margrethe for having told Sigurd that he had not been able to perform like a man, should. Against Sigurd for always undermining him and calling him a cripple. Against Lagertha for killing his mother. Or against Freydis for her lies and betrayals; he was the perfect example of vengeful anger and indignation. And if a person claimed they did not fear him, that they were not afraid of his sadistic, violent, bloodthirsty, nature, then they were either lying, or the gods had made them mad.

Yet there was another side to the youngest Ragnarsson, a side that very few had ever really seen, even those that had been closest to him. And that was his ability to love, and his desire to be loved in return. To be needed and wanted just like anyone else. To feel that he was worthwhile and was so much more to someone, than just the poor, pathetic cripple that Sigurd had always described him as. But no matter how many times he had hoped that he had found that; hoped that he had found a woman that could love him for all his faults, could calm his temper and soothe his wrath, he had not realised that she had been there, right in front of him for all his life, until he had sent her away. Until he had told her never to return.

(Y/n).......she had always been part of his world. The real constant in his life, the one person, other than his mother, he could always turn to. The one that didn't hate him or feel sorry for him. The one that supported him, that fought for him, that fought alongside him. That had been his most steadfast friend, even when it seemed like everyone else had abandoned him. The one that would call him out for allowing himself to be fooled by those that tried to claim they cared. Yet that was why he had banished her from Kattegat, that was why he had sent away the one person that had ever had true feelings for him. The shieldmaiden standing before him and announcing that no matter what he had been told by honeyed lips, he was not a god; that the child that Freydis had been carrying, was not his. That he had been duped by his wife, that she would betray him, and the gods would prove her right. Ivar feeling more anger towards her than he was sure that he had ever felt before. Telling (Y/n) that she was pathetic, that she was just jealous of Freydis, because she was nothing when compared to his wife. That no one could, or would ever love her, like he loved his wife, and she loved him. Ivar informing her, that she should be grovelling to him in thanks for him banishing her, rather than killing her, as he should have done. (Y/n) holding her head up high, as she had taken on his words, as she had watched him turning his back on her. The shieldmaiden simply nodding, before she had left the great hall, left and not been seen since. Her prophetic words coming true, the child born by Freydis, deformed, Ivar betrayed by her and his people. The youngest son of Ragnar only escaping Kattegat, thanks to Vigrid. And since fleeing to Scandinavia, and then choosing to explore the Silk Road with the blacksmith; Ivar had been able to think of nothing but the woman that he had sent away. The woman that he knew was the one that he should have given his heart to.

"Ivar........." Vigrid said, as he pulled the wagon up to a halt. The road before than blocked by a lone figure, that sat on the floor in front of them. Ivar crawling up to the blacksmith's side.

"What........?"

"I don't know." Vigrid replied, as he put down the reins and climbed down from his seat. The blacksmith making his way over to the unmoving figure, and pushing them with his hand, only to find his legs taken out from under him as more figures quickly surrounded the wagon. Ivar having no chance to reach for his sword, before multiple blades were pointed at his body. The once King of Kattegat preparing himself to meet his father, until a strangely familiar voice called out in a tongue that he did not understand. The figure that had been sitting in the road offering Vigrid their hand and helping him to his feet, before making their way to the wagon. The rest of the raiders backing away at another word from what was obviously their leader. Ivar's eyes widening, as the person dropped their hood.

"(Y/n)...........? What.....what are you doing here.......?" The beautiful woman, he had thought to never lay eyes on again, staring back at him.

"Where else was I to go when I was banished from my home? Though it appears that I am not the only one to find myself unwanted in Kattegat. Let me guess, Ivar; your whore wife and your people betrayed you, just as I said they would. That once more, all that claimed to care for you, let you down and abandoned you..........." She replied, as she pulled her sword from its sheath and placed the tip of it to his throat.

"Looking at you, perhaps I should put you out of your misery. I should do to you, what you didn't have the nerve to do to me." (Y/n) growled. Ivar finding himself closing his eyes, as he felt the blade being pushed further into his flesh. The youngest son of Ragnar not about to blame her for doing this; just wishing that he had had a chance to tell her some of the things he should always have told her, before she killed him. Yet instead of finding himself of the golden halls of Valhalla, he felt a pair of lips pressed onto his. His eyes flying open to see (Y/n). His hands reaching up into her hair and pulling her closer, so that he could deepen the kiss. The shieldmaiden finally pulling away and climbing up onto the seat of the wagon and taking the reins, as she gestured for Vigrid to join her.

"(Y/n)............?"

"When are you ever going to learn not to question me, Ivar? Now be quiet, while I take you back to the rest of our group; or I might just forget that I love you more than I want to kill you." She told him. Ivar for the first time in what felt like a long time, feeling a smile come to his face. Happy to do as she said, not about to bring about her wrath, when all he wanted, was her love.