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2022-11-30
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2024-04-30
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3/?
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You’re not going that way.

Summary:

He thinks Ivar would have enjoyed the chaos he is causing without even being present. It would certainly give him a laugh. One day he will tell him.  For one thing he is certain of, he will see his youngest son again. Ivar the Boneless is not a man to go down quietly. If he had died the whole of the world would have known about it.

AKA

After disappearing for years, Ivar returns to Kattegat with Igor, a boy he considers a son. The family has missed him terribly, but are thrown off by the changes in him and this quiet sullen boy that only seems to care about Ivar.

Notes:

Idk when I'll update this, next month maybe...
Anyway, I hope you guys like it!! Please give me some constructive criticism in the comments!! 💜
Also this takes place in a world where none of my fav characters are dead lol (Also the timeline will make more sense in the next few chapters, but Ragnar never left, Athelstan never dies, Aslaug and Lagertha made peace somehow idk, they all love each other, Ivar did go raiding a few times in England with his family and gave them some major wins in conquered land lol)

Chapter 1: A wise father knows his own child.

Chapter Text

 

 

Ragnar sighed and made himself more comfortable on the sand. Having returned from the most recent raids with his sons had shown him just how tired and old he really was getting. Lagertha had laughed when he said that and Aslaug  had smirked. Only his sweet Athelstan  had to comfort him,  but even he had a teasing look in his eyes. 

Ragnar was just glad they hadn't said anything to the boys. The gods knew he would never live it down. 

 

The excited childish yells from closer to the water reminded him that his boys were men now. Siggy and Asa ran around the shore splashing Hali as he yelled and tried to chase his sisters. Soon two more children would join them. Bjorn’s 4th child (and Gunnhilde’s 1st) and Ubbe’s 1st (and Torvi’s 4th) were only a few months away from being born, and the entire household was in a tizzy, trying to prepare everything. It's why Ragnar had offered to take his grandchildren to the beach today (it was not to shrink his duties as king, Aslaug).

 

Siggy was older and used to have siblings from only one parent, but Asa and Hali seemed a bit confused about the fact that their mom and their uncle Ubbe were having a child. Which was understandable.

 

Ragnar  had thought he was confused when he found out that Sigurd and Hvitserk had also slept with Ubbe’s first wife, Margrethe. He was even more confused when he found out about Ubbe and Margrethe’s wedding night and the role Hvitserk played in it. By the time Margrethe was dead (Sigurd still accused Ivar to this day and while Ragnar secretly agreed, he would never admit it out loud) and Hvitserk was beginning his courtship of Thora, Ubbe had apparently already been organizing his wedding to his older brother's ex-wife, and Ragnar had decided to just stop thinking about his second son’s sex life. Ignorance truly was the only way he could achieve mental peace when it came to his children.

 

“Grandpa! Grandpa!” Hali yelled as he ran towards him, apparently deciding a strategic retreat was the only way to survive his sister's combined attacks.

 

As Hali tackled him and took refuge, Asa took off running, clearly not done with her attack. Siggy, as willful and as willing to mock her family as most fifteen-year-olds, simply smirked at the scene in front of her and made no move to help her grandfather. 

 

As Asa also tackled him, and the three tumbled down to the sand, Ragnar heard a loud mocking laugh from Siggy and felt a pain in his heart. 

 

He often forgot how close in age his eldest grandchild and youngest child were; how because of it Siggy had spent her formative years chasing after her uncle. He was then brutally reminded of it whenever Siggy did something uniquely Ivar, such as that specific laugh. And he would then be filled with longing that made him miss his youngest even more than usual. 

 

As Asa and Hali wrestled on top of him, Ragnar gave a quick prayer to the Gods, begging them to keep his boy safe, wherever he may be.



“Alright!” Ragnar said as he got up, a grandchild under each arm “It's getting late. We better go or your dad and uncles will eat all of lunch and leave nothing for us.”

 

At the promise of food, Hali shook himself free and started running towards the city. Siggy  yelled at him to slow down but started running as well chasing her brother.

Ragnar looked at the little girl in his arms, waiting to see if she would also run off. 

 

“Let’s go Grandpa! Let’s go!”  she said loudly while making no move to leave his arms.

 

Ragnar chuckled,  but relented and walked as fast as he could while carrying her towards the city as well.

 

 

 

 

Torvi and Aslaug hadn't liked letting the children eat lunch while dirty, but Hvitserk had complained loudly of hunger and Bjorn and Ubbe had simply laughed and so the two women relented. And now the whole family was eating. Well, almost the whole family

 

Ever since they had become a family there was a certain routine to their meals. Ragnar  always sat between Athelstan and Aslaug. Lagertha sits next to Athelstan and Bjorn. Bjorn’s children always sit next to him with Torvi  on the other side and Ubbe next to her. It used to be Sigurd, but ever since they got married Ubbe prefers to sit there. Hvitserk sits next to Sigurd, in front of Bjorn, in the seat that had once belonged to Ubbe. Only the seat next to Aslaug remains empty. Ivar’s seat. 

 

Sigurd  had once made some comments about it becoming Thora’s seat and Hvitserk had shouted at him. Ubbe and Athelstan had tried to calm them both down while Aslaug fell into  silence. Ragnar knew that she, much like the rest of the family, was convinced Ivar was dead. Ragnar himself wasn't. Refused to even entertain the thought and surprisingly his third son was much the same.

 

It had been a point of contention between him,  his fiance and his mother, for Hvitserk  refused to get married without all of his brothers present. Ragnar had unfortunately seen the young Thora cry over it, convinced that Hvitserk didn't love her and was using Ivar’s absence as an excuse to not get married. The whole family knew that wasn't true, however. For they can all see how in love his son was with her. 

 

He thinks Ivar would have enjoyed the chaos he is causing without even being present. It would certainly give him a laugh. One day he will tell him.  For one thing he is certain of, he will see his youngest son again. Ivar the Boneless is not a man to go down quietly. If he had died the whole of the world would have known about it.

 

 

Chapter 2: No matter how far you go, we are connected.

Summary:

“Ivar is dead!” Sigurd yelled "He 's gone! You and father are the only ones who refuse to accept it!” 

Notes:

Here it is!! It only took 7 months lol, but in my defense I'm working on my master thesis (we'll see when I can update it again)
Let me know in the comments if you liked it!

Chapter Text

 

 

“This the hell christians speak of.” Ragnar groaned.

 

“It’s not that bad, father.” Ubbe replied with a laugh and an eye roll.

 

“You’re not the one that has to be sitting there for an entire day listening to the most stupid disputes known to man.” Ragnar groaned again

 

“I’m certain Aslaug and Lagertha would be more than happy to take over if you want.” Athelstan said, a serene look in his face that made him look innocent to anyone who didn’t recognize the amused glint in his eyes or the mocking tone of his voice.

 

“No, I can do it. I just want to complain about it.”

 

“How very “old man” of you.” Lagertha said with a laugh. 

 

“Don’t be mean, darling, you know that’s his weak spot.” Aslaug commented dryly.

 

Ragnar rolled his eyes as his three lovers laughed at his misfortune. His children at least had the decency of trying to pretend they weren’t laughing at him. Ragnar grumbled and grabbed another bread from the table, feeling exhausted by his family, fond, but exhausted. 

 

“Ignoring father’s advanced age” Sigurd started, causing another round of giggles and laughs in his family “I saw Thora this morning, she was looking for you Hvitserk.”

 

Everyone turned to Hvitserk, with the exception of Asa and Hali who were more concerned with the food. Hvitserk was looking down at his plate, he had tensed when Sigured spoke, his hands clenching around his cup. 

 

“Yes, I know. I spoke to her.” Hvitserk sighed. 

 

“What did she want? Was it about the wedding? Because I told her, I should also be included in the discussions about the decorations and food.” Aslaug said

 

“No. Well, yes, I guess. She told me that she wants to get married within the month. And that if I insist on waiting, she’ll marry someone else.” 

 

Silence filled the hall. Even the children seemed to grow quiet when they saw the adults' sudden silence.

 

“I’m sure mother and Thora can arrange everything to have the wedding in a few days time. It’s not an impossible deadline, Hvitserk.” Sigured commented while drinking.

 

“I’m not getting married without Ivar! I’ve told her that just as I have told you before!” Hvitserk yelled while angrily getting up from his seat. 

 

“Ivar is dead!” Sigurd yelled, also getting up “It’s been years! He left and he never returned and we never heard anything more about him! The scouts father sent looking for him found his companions all dead in the forest! He 's gone! You and father are the only ones who refuse to accept it!” 

 

Silence reigned in the hall. Athelstan and Lagertha both reached over towards Aslaug to comfort her. They knew that Ragnar would only want comfort when the four retired to their chambers, far away from others' eyes. But Aslaug would want it immediately, before she had a chance to harden herself and close down. 

 

The rest of the adults were looking at Hvitserk concernedly. Nothing Sigurd had said was a lie. And they all felt bad for Thora, for they knew that the two truly loved each other. 

 

“He 's gone.” Sigured whispered softly, still looking at his brother “You need to accept it.”

 

Hvitserk turned around and left the hall, ignoring the calls from his brothers. Athelstan and Lagertha shared a look before turning towards the others.

 

“I believe it is best if we retire early.” Athelstan said while getting up and pulling Ragnar with him. 

 

“Good night, children. Rest well.” Lagertha said, doing the same with Aslaug. 

 

Ragnar and Aslaug went, their faces pale and tired. Closed off, dealing with the pain and loss of a child. A pain Lagertha knew well. A pain that Ragnar had to feel once again. 

The children all said their good nights and slowly all left to their own chambers. A tired and painful weight between them. 

 

 

 

 

Things did not get better for the family the next morning. Everyone seemed withdrawn and exhausted. The breaking of their fast had been silent and heavy. Not even small talk made its way to the walls of the dining hall. The heavyweight of Ivar’s absence felt throughout all of them. Ivar would have laughed in all of their faces if he could see them, was a popular thought amongst the family, that for obvious reasons was not shared.

 

During the petitions, Ragnar seemed to have an even shorter fuse than usual, which quite a few people of Kattegat seemed to pick up on and had elected to leave and come back another day, when the king would be more favorable to them. Others were not that smart and still tried their luck. 

 

Just as the petitions were ending and Ragnar was getting up, the doors were slammed open and one of the men that manned the city walls came running in. 

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Ragnar asked as the man caught his breath.

 

“King Ragnar! You must come quick! There is a man on the wall-”

 

“Why is this man so important that you would interrupt petitions in such a violent way?” Lagertha demanded from her place next to Ragnar.

 

“He can’t walk, my queen. Has braces on his legs.”

 

The silence in the hall was deafening. A man with braces on his legs. A man who couldn’t walk was in Kattegat. Ivar.

 

Ragnar didn’t say anything else, and just ran out of the door, towards the wall. It took him longer than it would have in his youth, but he still reached the wall faster than he probably would have in other circumstances. As soon as he stopped he looked around. He could feel his sons reaching him one by one. Each as nervous and terrified as the other. Several guards were standing next to a cart. In the cart, a man was sitting with a hood covering his face, his legs trapped in braces.  Before he could so much as take a step forward Hvitserk spoke.

 

“Ivar?” 

 

The man on the cart turned to them, his hood falling down. His face looked older, tired. There were marks and scars that definitely had not been there before. But it was him. It was Ivar. Ivar was home. 

 

Ivar smiled at them and got up, holding a big stick to help himself. By the time he was standing straight, Hvitserk had reached him fully, and was embracing him. Ragnar followed his son’s lead and also moved towards Ivar. As soon as Hvitserk let go of Ivar, Ragnar held on just as tightly. 

 

“I guess you did miss me.” Ivar laughed, Ragnar held him even tighter.

 

“Of course we missed you, idiot.” Hvitserk said

 

“It wasn’t the same without you.” Ubbe said softly, now standing closer to them.

 

“It was boring without anyone threatening to kill us.” Bjorn said with a smirk.  

 

“I’ll get back to it as soon as possible.” Ivar laughed.

 

“Welcome back.” Sigurd said “Who’s that?”

 

Ragnar reluctantly let go of his son and looked to where Sigurd was looking. There was a young boy sitting on the cart. Ragnar hadn’t noticed him before. He couldn't be older than 11. His clothes were a lot like the ones Ivar was wearing, built to withstand rigid cold, ragged and dirty, but made with expensive fabrics and beautiful details. He looked nervous, looking between them like was unsure of what was happening. He was biting his lip, and his hand was clutching Ivar’s hand tightly. He looked a little bit like a cornered animal or like a child whose home was being raided. 

 

Ivar looked from his family to the boy, and put his arm around the boy’s shoulder pulling him towards him. 

 

“This is Igor. It’s a bit of a long story. Something better suited to share over food. We haven’t eaten in a few days.” Ivar said. 

 

“I’ll let mother and the others all know. It’s definitely going to become a feast.” Ubbe said

 

“Of course it will be. I’m home.” Ivar said with a laugh. 

 

As Ubbe left, Ragnar couldn’t ignore the inkling he was getting that there was something off about Ivar. A feeling that his youngest would not be sharing the full story of his travels. But at this moment Ragnar didn’t really care, his son was home. 

 

“Let 's go. So that everyone can see you, my boy.” Ragnar said warmly. 

 

Ivar smiled and turned to the boy, Igor. He talked to Igor in a foreign tongue that Ragnar was not familiar with, and from the looks of his other sons, neither were them. The language was rough and harsh, but there was a softness to the way Ivar spoke to Igor that was unmistakable. 

 

The boy- Igor, nodded at whatever Ivar said and turned around, grabbing a bag that he gives to Ivar and two more that he keeps to himself. As the family walks home, Igor stays close to Ivar. His hand holding the fabric of Ivar’s hood, like a child scared of losing his father in a crowd. The boy kept looking around Kattegat fascinated by what he saw. And Ivar kept talking to him in the foreign language, pointing things out for the child, or sharing a laugh. 

 

Ragnar exchanged a look with his other sons as they matched Ivar’s pace. They had all missed Ivar so much and they couldn’t wait to hear about his travels. 









Chapter 3: Journey home

Summary:

“The Prodigal Son Returns.” he says with a wide grin at Ivar.
Like this he could even ignore the pang in his gut that said Ivar was hiding something from them. 

Notes:

the actual Rus people were probably not christians, but from what I remember they are in the show, so I’m sticking with it.
I hope you like!! Leave me a comment and let me know what you think!

Chapter Text

 

 

As the family slowly arrived in the hall, Ivar was greeted enthusiastically. He had returned. Against all odds and reason, Ivar was back. As soon as she had let go of her youngest, Aslaug had given orders for a feast to be prepared. A son of Ragnar had defied the gods once again, and it was time to celebrate. 

 

“The Prodigal Son Returns.” Athelstan says with a serene but wide grin at Ivar.  

 

“That means I’m the favorite son!” Ivar smirks at his brothers and laughs loudly and harshly as they protest. 

 

But as none of them had ever listened or showed interest in Athelstan's stories of the bible, so they could not refute the claim. Ragnar had always been under the impression that Ivar hadn’t either, Ragnar himself only listened because of his love for Athelstan and his curiosity of the unknown. 

 

As the feast was ready and the whole family gathered around the table to celebrate, Ragnar once again remembered the young boy with Ivar. Throughout the exchanges and loud tales of what Ivar had missed, Igor had remained quietly glued to Ivar’s side, looking rapidly from face to face. Ragnar wasn’t certain if the boy could understand them or not, but he did occasionally smile at a joke, so perhaps he did understand some things. 

 

The rest of the family had either forgotten or not noticed Ivar’s shadow, and so they were surprised when Ivar requested a chair be added next to him on the table, placing Igor between Ivar and Hvitserk. 

 

As the food is served, there is an odd silence. Athelstan prays over his food, his lovers waiting for him to finish as usual, while everyone else  digs in, everyone except Ivar and his guest. The boy appears to be praying as well, a christian then it seems. And Ivar is waiting for him, looking at him with an expression Ragnar has never seen in his face before. It was soft and loving, almost… fatherly. Not that that was possible, Ivar had not been gone long enough to have fathered a 10 year old child. 

 

As soon as Athelstan and the boy are done praying, the questions start.

 

“Are you going to share your adventures or must we guess?” Lagertha asks

 

“There was nothing too exciting, I'm afraid.” Ivar deflects.

 

“You were gone for years, my love, we found your companions dead. We believed you to be dead!” Aslaug retorted

 

“So forgive us, if we find that ‘nothing too exciting happened’ a little hard to believe.” Bjorn concluded

 

Ivar sighed and got a far away look in his eyes. The boy, Igor, finally looked up from his food and stole a glance at Ivar. As soon as he saw the look on the older man’s face, he slowly grabbed his hand. Ivar startled at the sudden touch and looked down at the boy. He smiled in response to the boy’s worried look, but did not drop his hand. 

 

“Well, my companions, as you called them, didn’t actually make it very far, maybe a week’s journey or so. While on the road we were attacked.”

 

They already knew that, but hearing Ivar say it was enough to create an uncomfortable air. 

 

“We were robbed and most of them were killed. Magnus and I managed to escape and traveled a few more weeks north, as far away as possible. Until we were attacked again.”

 

Aslaug was trying very hard to hold back tears, her shaking hands being held by Ragnar himself. Even his sons were not unaffected by the story, having to think about their baby brother being attacked not once but twice in the space of a month or so. Most of the people at this  table had been against Ivar going without family exploring the north, and finding more places to raid. But Ragnar  had been so proud of his conquests in England that he saw no reason to stop him. He didn’t know if he regretted that decision or not, right now. 

 

“We were trespassing apparently. They took us to the… ruler of the land we were in. Prince Oleg.”

 

At the name of the prince, Igor turned his head fast towards Ivar and asked something in his odd  language. Ivar replied softly and squeezed the boy’s hand. He seemed to relax a bit, but there was still some tension left in his little shoulders.

 

“Oleg’s palace is where I met Igor. His father was… a good friend of Oleg’s. It turns out there was a war brewing and so Oleg needed a general, and my reputation precedes me, I suppose.” 

 

With that line, his brother’s lose it. Loud laughs boom in the royal family’s dining room. They worried for Ivar for so long, and all the while he was off in some foreign land raging war in some strange man’s name. What a boy he had, Ragnar thought.  A boy so many scorned, he included at one point, and yet so well suited for war. Made for battle and destruction and bloodshed. 

 

“Did you win?” Ubbe asked, still laughing.

 

“We…” Ivar hesitated and stole a glance at Igor. “We did not.”

 

That put a somber mood back in the room. Everyone now paying rapid attention. Ivar losing was as rare as a blood moon. Although the giant scar in his face was a good giveaway that the foreign war had not gone in Ivar’s favor, it was still somber to hear. 

 

“Is that  how you got that scar on your face?” Sigurd asked.

 

Aslaug and Ubbe both glared at him for the question, but it seemed like Ivar didn’t even hear it, as he continued with his story. 

 

“The palace was stormed. Everyone was killed. Igor and I managed to escape, and we have been traveling here ever since.”

 

“And now you’re home.” Athelstan said softly.

 

“And now I’m home. The end.” Ivar replied “So, what did I miss?”

 

“Well, you almost missed Hvitserk getting married. But you got here just in time.” Aslaug said

 

“Hvitserk convinced someone to marry him? Blessed be Frigg!” Ivar laughed

 

“Frigg certainly gifted Thora with the patience of a goddess, most women would have given up on him for how long he let the engagement drag.” Sigurd commented

 

“Hvitserk! Do you know how rare it is for a woman to want to be with you? You should have said yes the first chance you got!”  Ivar said with another laugh

 

As Hvitserk started getting a little red in the face, Sigurd delivered what he considered to be the killing blow. 

 

“Apparently he didn’t want to get married without you. Nevermind the fact we all thought you were dead.”

 

Ivar’s laughter died down, and his eyes softened while looking at Hvitserk. It was a look that Ragnar had never seen in his son, but a look that he liked nonetheless. It made him look mature. Before he could say anything in response, Igor, completely oblivious to the conversation the family had been having, reached forward to try and reach the jug in front of him. The movement distracted Ivar, who reached out and filled Igor’s cup himself. As soon as the boy was drinking, Ivar turned back to Hvitserk, his face still with an odd soft look and said

 

“Well, I’m here now. Better hurry it up, before she figures out she can do better.”

 

The room filled with laughter again and Ragnar  felt his heart fill with the love he had for his family. Like this he could even ignore the pang in his gut that said Ivar was hiding something from them.