“There is good and bad in everyone, Ivar,” Alfred says without a hint of doubt. People simply choose which side of themselves to feed or they try to do both. Ivar clearly is more devil than angel but there is plenty good possible. He’s never had the opportunity in his life to feed it though and perhaps it’s too late for him to change for the better but it’s enough for Alfred to trust him and his honor.
Alfred raises a brow at the suggestion and then sets his now empty drink down.
“Very well,” he agrees, though he could hear his mother in his head already detesting such an action. She would say bringing a heathen to his chambers would be more than reckless. She’d have a lot to say that Alfred wouldn’t care to listen to.
"That's an assumption. I've seen plenty that says otherwise," Ivar states. It was perhaps a bit sad that even at this age he's already cynical about the state of people's minds, but Ivar's always viewed the world through jade-colored glasses.
He hadn't really expected Alfred to agree to his proposal. Fortunately, Ivar was never without a plan. He got back into his leg braces and limped alongside him to his chambers. Despite having just talked and eaten together, this was the first time they were truly alone. Alfred was always surrounded by his servants and guards. Even though he knew none of them understood the Norse tongue, it did make it hard to find any sort of real privacy or intimacy with the other teen.
Ivar, without any sense of propriety, immediately sits down on Alfred's bed so that he can take his braces off again. He never lets on to anyone just how uncomfortable they are or how tiring it is to wear them for any length of time. But whether he wears them or not, he's always in pain, so he might as well be mobile even while his legs ache.
Alfred shakes his head. "It's an observation. I have a feeling that you are rarely trying to see the good in anyone, Ivar," Alfred says and it's not judgemental but yet again more observational than anything else. They went to his chambers in relative silence though and he tries not to look uneasy as his eyes search out to make sure they don't pass by his mother or anyone that would be likely to tell her straight away. The last thing he needed was Judith making a scene.
He trusted Ivar enough to be alone with him.
"Those seem tiresome," Alfred says gently, moving to pour them both something to drink and offering the cup to Ivar before sitting beside him.
Ivar just shrugs. "It's better than crawling." Which means, yes, they do tire him out quite a bit. They weigh a lot more than people think they do, what with the amount of metal that's used to keep him upright, and the leather added in both to keep them strapped down and add in some cushioning to keep the worst of the iron from biting into his flesh.
He will never admit any sort of weakness to Alfred, but the other knows him better than most. Alfred was one of the first to see he was more than just a cripple. He leans a little into the English monarch as he drinks. Perhaps it's just tiredness...perhaps not.
“I suppose that’s true,” Alfred agrees and well, he can’t really imagine how difficult it must be for Ivar. He had been a child with questionable health but it has never been something as debilitating but Ivar isn’t weak. His legs probably are what make him strongest. He takes a sip of his drink, unsure what to do with Ivar’s proximity. He doesn’t shift away to deny the closeness, though.
“Are you tired?”
He wouldn’t be opposed to just letting Ivar rest in his chambers even though he could have given him a guest one too.
"That depends. Are you going to let me rest in here with you?" A bold question laced with sexual tension underneath it. But Ivar has never been shy in going after what he wanted.
While he can only guess at what Alfred has experienced, he's royalty too. It doesn't lend a lot of time to being able to associate with anyone in a romantic fashion. It can be isolating and lonely. But they're on the same level, both kings, and so there's no power imbalance. He's always been awfully fond of Alfred, a blind spot that he wonders isn't going to get him taken advantage of one of these days.
Alfred could figure out the implication easily enough, although it somehow manages to surprise him — if only a very little. He had little... mostly no experience at all. His mother was always hovering or trying to hover and he had always had other things that he was focused on other than women... or men.
“I could...” Alfred says, a smile tugging at his lips somewhere between shy and coy.
Ivar grins as Alfred seems to acquiesce to his question. "You should," Ivar said, reaching out a hand, and tucking a lock of hair behind Alfred's ear in a show of affection that he wouldn't do with nearly anyone else.
They're both so new at this that sex isn't even on Ivar's mind. Just sleeping beside Alfred, having him close enough to hold, that...that would be very nice.
Alfred can’t help how his smile broadens a bit at the unexpected but certainly welcomed affection that the other gave him. It’s a simple gesture but From Ivar... it means more than others grand gestures would have.
“My mother will have a fit if she finds out,” Alfred says but he’s not going anywhere, which should be clear enough as he gets up to change into sleep clothes and out of the courtly garb from the day.
"So let's make sure she doesn't find out," Ivar says as he shifts around, pulling off the vest and shirt he'd been wearing during the day. Is the move deliberate? Of course. After all, he's admiring Alfred too as he changes clothes. Then off come his boots, dropping to the floor. He leans back on the bed, groaning softly at the softness of it.
"I need one of these." During the English raids, he generally ended up sleeping in a tent on the ground, save for the times when they took over a town where he could claim a bed as his own.
Once Alfred is in a simple sleeping outfit he sits back on the edge of the bed, he’d certainly noticed Ivar’s exposed skin, maybe a little too much. He shifts to look at him directly now that they’re both on the bed and all, a small smile on his lips. He’s rather sure they can’t really hide from Judith but he’ll try.
“A bed?” He asks. “Perhaps you should create a portable one.”
"Now there's an idea," Ivar says thoughtfully as he's propped up on his elbows. If he could find a way to carry one around with him, it would save his legs some aching. He looks over at Alfred almost shyly as if suddenly realizing the implications of sleeping so close to someone he sees as a friend.
"Or maybe I'll just stay here instead in between raids," he says. Honestly, he wouldn't mind that. Alfred is one of the only friends he has.
Alfred shifts to push further into the bed, leaning against the head and not laying down all the way yet. There is still a few modest inches between himself and Ivar and the thought to get closer and wondering what his skin would feel like if he touched him wandered unbidden through his mind but he ignored the somewhat embarrassing thoughts.
“That would certainly turn the rest of my advisers against me,” Alfred said with a hint of amusement. “But I would never turn you away.”
"You listen to them too much as it is. The mark of a good king is knowing when to listen to his own council." Alfred was getting there. He'd ignored everyone's advice in getting into a meeting with Ivar and it had now netted him a great ally.
He scoots a little bit closer to Alfred, not for any particular reason other than he wants to. There's a tension between them, he can sense that much, but he's not sure if this is a good path to be going down. They both are completely different and have responsibilities as kings they can't just ignore...but the heart wants what the heart wants.
“I know that,” Alfred sighs. And it is more that he worries of the more sinister dangers of having people turn against him. He knows his position of power is still precarious and Ivar both weakens it and bolsters it simultaneously. He doesn’t delve into it, looking at the Viking as the other moved closer. It makes him feel like the hairs on his arm are standing on edge where they nearly touch. He doesn’t know what to do with that feeling.
He knows that they’re both toeing a line. “Some are just waiting for an opportunity, Ivar. I can feel it,” he admits and he his fingers fidget on the blanket in the small space between them, just shy enough courage to touch Ivar in the way he’s tempted to.
"You can't trust anyone. Even your family. I learned that well enough." His brothers had all shown their faithlessness more than once. He's also heard talk of how Alfred's brother abdicated the throne, but he knew anyone to pull such a move had ulterior motives.
His hand moves forward, slowly and hesitantly, until it comes to rest on Alfred's arm. "You can trust me. If I betray you, it will only be because a better opportunity has come along." Ivar stabs people in the front, not the back, and he was usually transparent about it.
Alfred frowns and he supposed that Ivar is right but it’s not in his nature to take such a black and white view of people. Everyone was shades of grey, even Ivar — as dark as the Viking could be at times. He still thinks he can trust Judith but that’s more because of her ambitions than her loyalty.
Ivar’s hand on his arm is heavy and warm. “I hope that day never comes,” Ivar is not someone he wants as an enemy on both a personal level and the kingly level. He doesn’t really think about it as he shifts closer to Ivar, turning to look at him. “At least you are honest.”
"It's one of my better qualities." He pauses. "I think one of yours is your kindness." More than anything else emotionally, it was because Alfred was willing to give him a chance that Ivar was willing to fight for him.
Perhaps feeling he's said too much, he flops down abruptly so he's lying on the pillows and rest of the bed. He still doesn't move his hand from Alfred's arm. What he really wants to do is move closer to the English king and sleep right next to him, but he's not sure if he's got the fortitude to go through with it.
Alfred smiles a bit. “I probably got that from my father,” he says thoughtfully. Lord knows that Judith and Ecbert were far more shrewd than genuinely kind to anyone. But maybe that is part circumstance and all.
He is quiet for a moment, wanting to move closer to Ivar and yet wondering why or what wisdom would be in that. It would be foolish regardless of his motives that is for certain.
“A lot of people would not think that Ivar the Boneless would value kindness.”
"Very few people have ever been kind to me without expecting anything back. Everyone always thinks they can gain something from me by being nice to me. Then when their motivations are revealed I get angry." And hurt, though he would never say that out loud. Ivar The Boneless didn't get hurt feelings. "But not you." The hand on Alfred's arm moves up, brushing the hair that's fallen into his eyes back.
"You were kind to me only when you knew nothing about me other than I was just some crippled prince that everyone saw as nothing." Perhaps it had first been then that Ivar's heart had begun to be ensnared by his friend.
Alfred doesn’t know why he feels a strange and warm heat at the words. It’s an oddity that having Ivar say them makes him feel... special, special for who he is and not his title or stature in life. He smiles warmly as he looks at Ivar and his fingers itch to reach out and touch him.
“I don’t know how anyone could see you as nothing if they ever looked at you. All they would need to do is meet your eyes,” Alfred says and then swallows before reaching out a gentle hand to cup his cheek as he shifts onto his side, facing Ivar. “You make me feel things I shouldn’t, Ivar,” he murmurs more softly words only for Ivar said in a whisper as if someone could be eavesdropping — and honestly that’s not so far fetched to think about.
"You see things in people that others don't. You see me," Ivar says, breath hitching as he feels Alfred's hand on his cheek. There's no denying that Alfred has grown up very nicely into a good-looking young man. Were it not for his duties and shyness, he could have had anyone at court.
"Perhaps that's what I want you to feel," Ivar murmurs. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to Alfred's mouth before pulling back. He'd love to go further with Alfred, but things need to be taken slow. They've got more than themselves to consider. They've got their people and duties.
Alfred feels the kiss long after Ivar pulled away and he wants to lean forward and kiss him back. His hand is still on his cheek and his thumb stretches out, brushing along the other's bottom lip briefly before pulling his hand away.
He's sure this is exactly the reason his mother was wary of Ivar. She perhaps knew more than Alfred did about himself, about Ivar.
"Why do you want me to feel things that I shouldn't?"
His feelings were difficult, to try and keep it separate from his duties, his responsibility to his people. Ivar is always going to be a dangerous piece of his world but he couldn't seem to bring himself not to trust him.
Ivar's breath comes out hot as he feels the pad of Alfred's thumb brushes over his lip. He knows what he wants and it's right in front of him, no matter how complicated it might make things.
"Forbidden fruit is always the most enticing," he says. He knows a few Bible stories and the one about the banishment from Eden is one of them. One of the few things the Norse and Catholic religions have in common is the perception of the snake as being a devious, dangerous creature that will lead to destruction. The Devil in one form and the Midgard Serpent in the other.
"And that is the temptations we are most meant to resist, Ivar," Alfred says and he's not very good at resisting. He's not sure that this is something that would be wrong even if it frustrated his mother or displeased his court.
He shifts closer on the bed to where they are millimeters from touching and he exhales, looking at Ivar. "Sleep?" he questions, though he doesn't feel like he could with the way that his heart is racing just now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Alfred raises a brow at the suggestion and then sets his now empty drink down.
“Very well,” he agrees, though he could hear his mother in his head already detesting such an action. She would say bringing a heathen to his chambers would be more than reckless. She’d have a lot to say that Alfred wouldn’t care to listen to.
no subject
He hadn't really expected Alfred to agree to his proposal. Fortunately, Ivar was never without a plan. He got back into his leg braces and limped alongside him to his chambers. Despite having just talked and eaten together, this was the first time they were truly alone. Alfred was always surrounded by his servants and guards. Even though he knew none of them understood the Norse tongue, it did make it hard to find any sort of real privacy or intimacy with the other teen.
Ivar, without any sense of propriety, immediately sits down on Alfred's bed so that he can take his braces off again. He never lets on to anyone just how uncomfortable they are or how tiring it is to wear them for any length of time. But whether he wears them or not, he's always in pain, so he might as well be mobile even while his legs ache.
no subject
He trusted Ivar enough to be alone with him.
"Those seem tiresome," Alfred says gently, moving to pour them both something to drink and offering the cup to Ivar before sitting beside him.
no subject
He will never admit any sort of weakness to Alfred, but the other knows him better than most. Alfred was one of the first to see he was more than just a cripple. He leans a little into the English monarch as he drinks. Perhaps it's just tiredness...perhaps not.
no subject
“Are you tired?”
He wouldn’t be opposed to just letting Ivar rest in his chambers even though he could have given him a guest one too.
no subject
While he can only guess at what Alfred has experienced, he's royalty too. It doesn't lend a lot of time to being able to associate with anyone in a romantic fashion. It can be isolating and lonely. But they're on the same level, both kings, and so there's no power imbalance. He's always been awfully fond of Alfred, a blind spot that he wonders isn't going to get him taken advantage of one of these days.
no subject
“I could...” Alfred says, a smile tugging at his lips somewhere between shy and coy.
no subject
They're both so new at this that sex isn't even on Ivar's mind. Just sleeping beside Alfred, having him close enough to hold, that...that would be very nice.
no subject
“My mother will have a fit if she finds out,” Alfred says but he’s not going anywhere, which should be clear enough as he gets up to change into sleep clothes and out of the courtly garb from the day.
no subject
"I need one of these." During the English raids, he generally ended up sleeping in a tent on the ground, save for the times when they took over a town where he could claim a bed as his own.
no subject
“A bed?” He asks. “Perhaps you should create a portable one.”
no subject
"Or maybe I'll just stay here instead in between raids," he says. Honestly, he wouldn't mind that. Alfred is one of the only friends he has.
no subject
“That would certainly turn the rest of my advisers against me,” Alfred said with a hint of amusement. “But I would never turn you away.”
no subject
He scoots a little bit closer to Alfred, not for any particular reason other than he wants to. There's a tension between them, he can sense that much, but he's not sure if this is a good path to be going down. They both are completely different and have responsibilities as kings they can't just ignore...but the heart wants what the heart wants.
no subject
He knows that they’re both toeing a line. “Some are just waiting for an opportunity, Ivar. I can feel it,” he admits and he his fingers fidget on the blanket in the small space between them, just shy enough courage to touch Ivar in the way he’s tempted to.
no subject
His hand moves forward, slowly and hesitantly, until it comes to rest on Alfred's arm. "You can trust me. If I betray you, it will only be because a better opportunity has come along." Ivar stabs people in the front, not the back, and he was usually transparent about it.
no subject
Ivar’s hand on his arm is heavy and warm. “I hope that day never comes,” Ivar is not someone he wants as an enemy on both a personal level and the kingly level. He doesn’t really think about it as he shifts closer to Ivar, turning to look at him. “At least you are honest.”
no subject
Perhaps feeling he's said too much, he flops down abruptly so he's lying on the pillows and rest of the bed. He still doesn't move his hand from Alfred's arm. What he really wants to do is move closer to the English king and sleep right next to him, but he's not sure if he's got the fortitude to go through with it.
no subject
He is quiet for a moment, wanting to move closer to Ivar and yet wondering why or what wisdom would be in that. It would be foolish regardless of his motives that is for certain.
“A lot of people would not think that Ivar the Boneless would value kindness.”
no subject
"You were kind to me only when you knew nothing about me other than I was just some crippled prince that everyone saw as nothing." Perhaps it had first been then that Ivar's heart had begun to be ensnared by his friend.
no subject
“I don’t know how anyone could see you as nothing if they ever looked at you. All they would need to do is meet your eyes,” Alfred says and then swallows before reaching out a gentle hand to cup his cheek as he shifts onto his side, facing Ivar. “You make me feel things I shouldn’t, Ivar,” he murmurs more softly words only for Ivar said in a whisper as if someone could be eavesdropping — and honestly that’s not so far fetched to think about.
no subject
"Perhaps that's what I want you to feel," Ivar murmurs. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to Alfred's mouth before pulling back. He'd love to go further with Alfred, but things need to be taken slow. They've got more than themselves to consider. They've got their people and duties.
no subject
He's sure this is exactly the reason his mother was wary of Ivar. She perhaps knew more than Alfred did about himself, about Ivar.
"Why do you want me to feel things that I shouldn't?"
His feelings were difficult, to try and keep it separate from his duties, his responsibility to his people. Ivar is always going to be a dangerous piece of his world but he couldn't seem to bring himself not to trust him.
no subject
"Forbidden fruit is always the most enticing," he says. He knows a few Bible stories and the one about the banishment from Eden is one of them. One of the few things the Norse and Catholic religions have in common is the perception of the snake as being a devious, dangerous creature that will lead to destruction. The Devil in one form and the Midgard Serpent in the other.
no subject
He shifts closer on the bed to where they are millimeters from touching and he exhales, looking at Ivar. "Sleep?" he questions, though he doesn't feel like he could with the way that his heart is racing just now.
(no subject)
(no subject)