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Summary
Ivar was her anchor, and Kára was his sail. Neither could survive the sea without the other, much to Aslaug's chagrin. She could never accept that her favourite son's destiny was intertwined with the daughter of the one woman in all of Midgard the queen was envious of. This long one-sided rivalry, however, was just the tip of the iceberg.
Slow burn
____________________"Do you know her?”
Floki paused again, just before tying the knot of the bandage. He was avoiding the boy’s gaze, but he finally sighed and gently placed his hand on the boy’s other shoulder. Floki brought his face close to his so his eyes leveled with the boy’s, and his forehead nearly touching the other’s as well. The action made Ivar’s blood went slightly cold at the ominous aura that poured into the room the moment Floki grew serious.
“I do, my dear Ivar, and there is something that you must know,” He gripped the boy’s shoulder a little tighter, and his voice grew low and dark. “This red-haired girl you saw…. She will, one day, be the mother of your children.”
Floki burst out in a fit of giggles as he pulled away from Ivar, who in turn began to punch him in the shoulder, screaming: “Shut up! I do not like her!”