"Wife..? Wife," Ivar's voice roused you from sleep. You blinked groggily, looking around your bedroom. Moonlight shone through the curtains, the sky still black with night.

"What?" you mumbled. His voice was panicked, which made your heart jump. Was Kattegat being raided? Did something happen to one of his brothers?

Ivar's sapphire eyes grew misty at the sound of your voice. He swallowed thickly and grabbed his legs to adjust them. Assuming it was chronic pain that had woke him, you placed a hand on his thigh and began softly rubbing the muscle.

"I.." he trailed off, a small voice in his throat. His accent that you loved so much seemed thicker from sleep and tears. "I had a nightmare."

He felt silly for even saying it. He was a son of Ragnar, a viking. Viking men didn't cry to their wives over night terrors.