Disclaimer: I do not own vikings! If you recognize it it is not mine.

After reviewing this story I realize that some of the events might not follow true to cannon. Please bear with me on that detail. If you have not read my Rollo story please go ahead and check that out as well. The next chapter of that story will be updated soon. If you are a returning fan of my work I deeply apologize for the lack of updating. School and work have once again taken control of my life. Thank you all for being so patient. I hope you enjoy this Ivar story

Screams and cries pierced through the rain. Each drop felt as if they held the weight of the world. Buildings were on fire and bodies littered the ground. A single person sat among them but they were the only one alive. Their skin was covered in the blood of those who had done this. Red hair lay about like a curtain over the body that they held in their arms. Tears fell and mixed with the rain drops. Time passes...the bodies of the murderers are buried in unmarked graves.

While the bodies of those who had been murmured now all lay on a mass pyer. The only living survivor lights the fire. They sit there and they watch as the bodies of the people they loved are taken away to the afterlife. Lip move in a silent prayer as the fires go out.

One...

By one...

A hand met their shoulder. A tall man bald with a long beard and piercing blue eyes. Their hands pulled them up. Feet move heavily against the ground. Their body feeling heavy and weak from emotions that were tearing them apart. They had all they needed...Supplies and weapons. Their body wears their father's coat to keep warm. Long red hair like fire blows in the breeze as they walked along. A boat lay waiting with others. They were to go with them and begin anew. One last look...one final glance at their home. Then...feet touched the wood of the boat as they climbed on. Away they go...away from this place...away from the life they once had and cherished. It was time to start anew. It was time to move on and continue to live.

~Kattegat~

Ragnar had returned to his home. The people were bewildered that he had come back. Even more so that he was not alone. There was a woman with him. A woman who had hair that was as bright as Loki's fire and eyes as blue as the sky. She was a tall woman and the hair was in wild curls that came past her waist. She was definitely a foreigner. This intrigued many who looked upon her. A sword at her waist suggested she knew the ways of a warrior.

Her blue eyes watched the four men who now stood before the man she came with. One having to drag himself along. A cripple he was and it was his eyes who met hers. She ignored the shouting and the noise as they continued to look at one another. Was this the one Ragnar had spoken of? He was handsome indeed. With his hair with the sides shaved down. Piercing blue eyes that seemed to find their way into one's soul.

"Annag..." she tore her gaze away from the man as she heard her name called. Ragnar the man she came with gave her the nod to follow. And so she followed him inside the longhouse that had been and was his.

"'S e seo an dachaigh agad?" (Is this your home?) she asked softly as they walked inside.

"B 'e an dachaigh agam..." (It was my home...) he responded in her language. Annag had taught him as he had taught her his. "Aon uair 's mi air bruidhinn ri mo bhean, bidh mi a' lorg thu àite-fuirich." (Once I have spoken with my wife, I will find you a place to stay.)

"Tapadh leibh. Tha thu air a bhith chaoimhneil rium." (Thank you. You have been most kind to me. ) He stopped and turned to the girl. She was about the same age as his youngest son Ivar. She was skilled and strong. When they had met she was alone and orphaned. He had taken pity upon her only for her to shock him after she saved his life against a giant bear. Annag's eyes turned upward as she saw a beautiful woman staring at them harshly. She figured this must be Ragnar's Queen. She hesitated before bowing softly. She did not want to anger anyone.

"Aslaug..." Ragnar stated before she came over and held Annag by her chin. Their eyes locked and they stayed locked for a long time. She knew what this woman was doing. Annag was being sized up and she held her ground firmly.

"Is she your new one?" She asked with almost a sneer. "Your new whore or am I to be replaced."

"I am no whore." Annag spat as she slapped away the woman's hand. "I am not to be Ragnar's wife." Aslaug looked to Ragnar confused but Ragnar only smiled.

"She is for Ivar."

"For Ivar? You have been gone for so many years and you bring him back a woman?"

"Not just any woman my wife." He spoke as he drew closer to her "A Celt. They are practically the closest thing over there to us. Strong sturdy and brave. She is a warrior. Ivar needs someone as strong as him." Annag had not taken her eyes away from Aslaug the whole time. All the while the woman, tall and thin and beautiful stared right back.

"She is for my son." She stood taller. "We shall see."

Ragnar sighed and turned to the red haired woman. "Annag, theirig rannsachadh fhad 'sa bha mi bruidhinn ri mo bhean." (Annag, go explore while I speak with my wife. ) Aslaug looked to Ragnar as he spoke in the tongue of the foreigner. Then again it did not surprise her. He was always learning something new. Annag gave a nod of her head before she walked out of the home. She looked about the town before heading off into the woods. Little had she known that someone had been listening. She wrapped her plaid shawl around her body as the chill picked up.

This place reminded her so much of home. It made her feel comfortable but yet she also felt awkward for she was a newcomer here. She came to an area with trees and sat upon a rock. The area was a small clearing that held a glimpse of the river. Sitting there she watched the water flow by her quietly. She wondered how her life would be here in this place. How would life with the man she had been promised to? Would he be kind? Would he be cruel? So many questions.

Meanwhile,

Ivar continued to sit outside of the house. He listened to his father and mother talking. The woman...the one with the wild hair was to be his? Such beauty was to be his? Not to his brothers but to him. Could a woman like that every truly want him. "What is on your mind brother?" asked Ubbe as he sat beside him. He had seen the way the woman and his brother had locked eyes. "You are thinking about that red haired woman?"

"She is to be my wife."

"What?" Ubbe asked curiously. "Who told you this?"

"I over heard mother and father talking. The woman, father saved her life. He brought her back with him. She is a strong warrior a...Celt he called her. They are people from the England area who are rather similar to us."

"A Celt. Hmm. And she has been promised to you? A ...war bride?"

"I guess you could put it like that. She didn't seem opposed to it." Ivar shrugged as he looked at his brother. "You know what this means don't you? I will be married before you my brother." he chuckled as Ubbe pushed his head away.

"You married? Who would have thought." Sigurd said as he walked towards his brothers. "Perhaps she will pity you. Perhaps she will not be able to handle being with someone like you. Her being a supposed warrior." He taunted his brother without batting an eyelash. "What warrior would chain themselves down to a cripple?" Sigurd taunted with a smirk.

"That is enough Sigurd." Ubbe scolded causing the blond to scoff before he walked off. "Don't let him get to you Ivar." Ubbe said before he patted his brother's head. Ivar pushed his hand off as he watched his elder brother walk off. He huffed heavily as his eyes began to burn in their backs. How he hated Sigurd and his relentless cruelty. He flipped over onto his hands and began to walk off. Without realizing it he went in the direction the woman went. Annag...her name burned into his brain.

His arms carried him through the woods to the section of clearing. There she sat wrapped in a thick wool shawl. He sat there staring at her from afar. By the gods she was beautiful to behold. Her hair was like a raging fire in the wind. Her skin was pale like the snow. He remembered her eyes. The way they bore into his. Green like the woodland trees.

"I know you are there."

Her voice called out causing Ivar to freeze. He looked up as her eyes locked once again with his. He couldn't help but crawl over to her. Never once did he break eye contact. He sat beside her on the ground. His face level with her thighs. "Are you Ivar?" She asked softly. Oh how his name sounded on her voice. Her accent thick and beautiful.

"I am. Your name is Annag is it not?" He asked playfully as he looked up at her. "You are to be mine."

"I am. Does that please you?" Her green eyes stared down at him curiously. She was not afraid of him. For when she looked into his eyes it felt right.

"Indeed it does. To have a strong and beautiful woman at my side. It pleases me greatly." He smiled up at her his hypnotic blue eyes holding such glee at the idea. This woman was to be his. Not Ubbe's, Not Hvitserk's, not Sigurd's...His. She was to be his wife. "And what of me? Do I...please you? Does the idea of having a cripple as your husband please you?" His voice became harsh for a moment. His eyes looked deeper into Annag's.

"If you mean do I pity the thought of having to be married to a cripple? Then no. I can see in your eyes that you are not a normal man Ivar. You are special." The corner of her mouth pulled into a small smile.

Ivar smirked as his hand found her thigh. His chin rested upon the back of it as he looked up at her. He watched her hand slowly rise up only to run through his hair. His hand tightened on her thigh at the feeling. It felt so good. He could get used to having his wife do this for him. It made him calm and relaxed. Something Ivar had not felt in a long time.