Chapter Text
Anonymous asked: Ragnar/Athelstan/Lagertha, a new way to pray.
Athelstan had no way to describe the things they were doing to his skin — to his very essence — but it made him want to laugh and to cry in equal measures. Lagertha knelt before him as to pray, but her eyes held the devil’s work and her fingers pulled away his tunic and trousers as if they were no more than the smoke of cedar. The heady scent of her met Athelstan’s nose as Ragnar mounted her from behind, every slow thrust pushing her full lips against his quivering body until he whimpered for it. He didn’t yet know how to ask for this thing — for this coupling that made him love God more and forsake him in every ragged breath — but he needed more of it. Ragnar’s half smile broadened to full with Athelstan’s groan of pleasure and his delirious giggle as hot and cold ran across him, glorious sensation in waves of golden, blinding joy that tied him forever to these two people.