****Graphic material warning/NSFW****
"Lhyrie…"
She jumped at her name and turned to see Ubbe standing in the flap of her tent. They were the first words he had said directly to her in weeks. He was disheveled and wet from the rain pouring outside, looking incessantly miserable. The cloak stuck to him in waves, plastered to his arms and his hood drooped to almost cover his eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," she flustered, trying to find something to straighten in her tent to occupy her hands. If this was going to be their first interaction since Kattegat it was going to be an awkward one.
"I came to thank you," he said softly, he lowered his hood and the rain slowly dripped off of it. "For what you did during the battle." The air between them became stale. Despite the breeze outside, Lhyrie felt like everything else was being pulled out of the tent, until it was just her and Ubbe.
"It was nothing -,"
"Especially after what I did to you…"
"If I hadn't done it, someone else would have," she said, shaking off his last comment. "Odin wouldn't let a son of Ragnar die in the battle."
"No… only over dinner," he said solemnly, almost a whisper, fidgeting with a string on his sleeve.
"I'm sorry, Ubbe," she said, trying to make him look at her instead. "I should have been there."
"Yes," he said quietly. "You should have." The words should have sounded harsher, but they were just filled with sadness. "You should have been on the boats with me." When he finally looked up, his voice quivered. She could see the slightest sheen of tears forming in his eyes. It broke her heart. "You should have been with me when we blood eagled Aelle…
"You should have been with me when we took Wessex… You should have been next to me at the feast." He took a deep breath and took the few steps toward her, gently reaching for her hands to take in his. "I want you at my side when we take York. And when we settle here." She hadn't realized she was looking at her hands in his, and he slowly raised her chin so that their eyes met. "I want to marry you, Lhyrie. And stay with you here."
"What about -," she asked softly.
"I didn't marry her."
She stammered, trying to find words. Of course, her brain went to gibberish. A weak smile formed on Ubbe's lips.
"Do you know how often I've wanted to talk to you?" He asked with a light chuckle.
Her head spun slightly. Suddenly, all that anger she felt that night came flooding back. She snapped her hands away from his and clasped them together, afraid she might slap him again. She didn't want to that right now. Turning, she shook her hair out, trying to ration her thoughts. What changed since that terrible feast?
"Why did you ask Margrethe to marry you instead of me?" She tried to keep her voice level and calm, but the words spit like fire from her mouth.
"I-," Ubbe stammered, taken aback. "I didn't think you wanted to marry me."
"How could you have possibly thought that?" She asked, turning back to face him, the anger showing in her face. "After the talk of children, the traveling to Denmark -,"
"You didn't want to marry me before…"
"Because we were kids!" She bellowed, throwing her hands uncontrollably in the air. "We were fifteen, Ubbe! And you only asked me because you didn't want me to leave Kattegat!"
"Of course I didn't want you to leave Kattegat! I wanted you to stay with us!"
"And be without my family and a wife at fifteen."
"I was going to be your family," he said softly.
"We weren't ready, Ubbe," she said slowly. The feeling of anger gradually passed. She was relieved they had both said the words aloud that had tormented them for years. It felt like the weight of the words she was carrying had finally lifted. "I did love you then, but we weren't ready to be married."
"You said you weren't sure if you were going to marry Jagar... I thought you were against it completely."
"I was unsure of marrying Jagar because I've always thought.. about marrying you... Particularly, when I returned." The warmth came back into his cheeks, and it seemed like the life was being restored too. His face softened a little and a faint smile trembled in the corners of his mouth. He moved a little closer to her but didn't reach for her. The warmth that filled him stopped at her feet. "I will not have our love shared," she stated softly.
"You don't have to worry about that now." They were almost touching. She was looking away, focusing anywhere but near his face.
"But I do," she whispered, taking a step back, quickly aware of their proximity. "There will always be a part of me that doesn't trust that part of you."
He froze, seeming to even hold his breathing. His eyes met hers then and he leaned in again, unblinking. He tilted his head slightly so that it seemed like he was looking directly deep into her. "I swear on the souls of my brother, mother and father," he said with absolution. "I will love only you until Odin takes me."
"Ubbe, I don't -,"
"We will stay here," he pleaded. "Away from everyone and be our own family."
Every part of her wanted to run, to hide from him and think about this. Every other part wanted to run to him and scoop his face into her hands. She was torn and it made her want to cry. "If you so dare as to cross me again Ubbe Ragnarsson, I will put a dagger in your heart. I swear on the souls of my brother, mother and father."
"I do not doubt you," he cracked a smile.
She let out a breath she was holding and let a smile creep on her lips. "And that is something you're able to live with?"
Instead of stale, the air surrounding them electrified again, she could feel its motion blast through her. He rushed over and pulled her lips to his, drawing her in close and vented the last five years of longing into her. He broke apart breathless and placed his palms on her cheeks, as to almost make sure this moment stayed.
"Yes… now what was that with Hvitserk?" He cocked an eyebrow.
She bit her lip from slight embarrassment. "That was a mistake." His hands traveled down to the small of her back and he slowly guided her backwards. She could feel him pressed against her hip and it sent a shockwave through her core. "It was a onetime thing," she said, slightly out of breath, as his hands gently pushed on her hips, edging her to sit on the blankets he guided her to. He tore off his soaking cloak and flung it somewhere in the tent.
"I can count three times it devasted me," he cheeked, moving her hair from her shoulder. The cold breeze brushed against her bare neck and made her shiver.
"It was supposed to be a onetime thing…" He began to lightly place kisses on her neck, as if he was kissing away the marks of his brother on her body. His lips moved to her pulse and he gently nipped her, making her gasp. He chuckled and continued to her shoulder.
"Please tell you me you didn't sleep together."
"The fire was as intimate as it got," she breathed as his fingers danced circles down her body. He brought his mouth back to hers and she could feel a groan grow in him.
"I wanted to strangle him to a pulp," he said breathlessly. "I guess he can marry her now."
"I heard there was a wedding," she mentioned cautiously. Ubbe had his hands drawing the lines of her muscles on her thighs.
"Sigurd married her," he said slowly, fingers dipping below the edge of her dress. They were still cold from the winter rains outside and they made her squirm. He smiled and warmed them between her legs.
"Ubbe-,"
"You tortured me enough with Hvitsverk," he whispered, his fingers encroaching upward.
"Do to think he'll be upset with me?"
"He knows what's mine," he said absentmindedly, focusing on his work.
"Ahm-," she cleared her throat and trapped his hands where they were at.
"You are not a toy," he quoted softly and kissed her deeply and longingly. She loosened her legs and he restarted his journey. She couldn't be mad at him when their skin was pressed together. "But you will be mine tonight," he growled against her lips. "Just to clarify," he broke apart again, much to her protest, "You will marry me?"
All she could do was giggle against him. "I will marry you until Odin takes us."
One of his hands found the slippery spot between her legs and she could feel a warmth start pulsate through her. Somehow, his other hand was concentrating on his chest pocket and he gracefully pulled out a small silver ring balanced on his little finger.
"I had this made out of the arrow tip you shot at that Englishman," he said kissing the small ring lightly, his other hand drawing circles around her center.
"Shouldn't that be your ring then?" She asked breathlessly. "So that it will remind you that your wife saved your life?"
He reached back into his pocket again. "A ring doesn't take that much silver," and pulled out another one, large enough for him. "Mm, my wife," he said against her lips. He kissed her and pushed a finger into her. She arched against his hand and tried not to moan. She hadn't realized how much she wanted him. Digging her fingers into the soft furs, she threw her head back, enjoying his touch.
He placed both rings back in his pocket, ready to concentrate solely on her, his wife. He pulled her head back up and kissed her, his tongue dancing on her lower lip and she lowered herself onto the blankets, pulling him with her. He moved both hands up her dress and pressed between her thighs. She shuttered against the pressure in his trousers.
"What if I didn't agree to marry you?"
"Then I would have worn the rings like a badge of honor around my neck," he said as he shifted his hips into her and made her gasp. "But had a feeling it would end like this," he said with a smile. He continued to rock into her, giving her spasms. "I felt it that day we blood eagled Aelle."
"I can't explain it, but I was there," she said breathlessly, closing her eyes.
He broke apart suddenly. "I want to marry you."
"You will," she laughed against his mouth.
"I want to marry you now."
"Do we even have a goðar here?"
"Floki."
"Floki's not a goðar; he's just weird," she said, propping herself up.
Ubbe sat back on his heels. "We will hand fast," he stated, pushing off his heels and adjusting his laces. He trifled through some of her things, looking for extra fabric, his hair disheveled. It was longer than she had seen it and his beard was growing out too. He looked so much like his father.
"I have bandages on that chest," she said, pointing to them.
"Perfect," he exhaled, and half ran back to her, kneeling. He pulled her back into a deep kiss and she thought he was going to forgo his idea and resume their previous activity. "Have these been used on anybody?" He asked, eying them cautiously.
"They have. But I've boiled them."
"Okay… Do you know the words?"
"You were the one just at a wedding."
"We're trying, Freya," he told the goddess, glancing up to the sky. He pulled the rings from his pocket and gently took her left hand in his. They both felt giddy and she could hardly contain her hand from shaking.
Clearing his throat, he began, "Fairest Freya, friend of families, matron of marriage, hear us. I pray for myself and for her whom I am hand fast." Ubbe locked eyes with her and smiled. "I pray for peace between our bond," he slipped the ring on her finger, blue eyes unmoving from hers. "I pray for our love to last," she took his ring from him and slid it on his finger. "I pray for patience on both our parts," he locked fingers with hers and squeezed their hands together. "That we may comfort each other's sight," he began to wrap the linen around their joint hands, rings knocking against each other. "Help us turn once again to trust and talk," he passed the linen over them again, "And find a fairer road to walk." The end of the linen draped over their fingers. "Freya show us the shared road through thorns. Until death us do part."
They locked eyes again, the joy plastered in their smiles. "I think that was it," he said, unceremoniously after some time.
"How long do we have to have to keep our hands bound?"
"It will be hard to consummate like this," he smiled.
In one fell swoop he cast off the linen binding them and pressed himself to her, knocking them both back onto the furs. Encompassing the back of her head with his hand, she felt the new silver on his ring finger and smiled against his lips. She let her newly appointed finger slide down his chest and up his shirt. He shivered under the cold metal and melted into her more. She could feel him grow warm again as he pressed her hips down with his.
"Sjöfn," he cursed, grinding into her. Hastily, he pulled her dress from between them and wiggled deeper between her legs. She arched against the feeling of leather, making him groan. What a change two small rings could make.
He pulled her hand out from under his tunic and kissed her ring, eyes locked on hers. It made her shudder. She moved their hands to his laces and together they pulled them loose. Grabbing her hand, he forced it above her head and twirled the ring on her finger, like he was claiming her. He bent his head to hers for a long kiss as she pushed her hips up to his and he entered, finally free. He broke apart from their kiss with a guttural moan. Cursing again, he pushed her other hand above her head locking his own ring into her fingers.
"You're mine," he breathed softly, pressing into her more. She could only muster a sigh as his hands released hers and went under her hips, arching her more to his body for a perfect fit. "My plaything," he smiled.
Her hand came down to his braid and she pulled his mouth back to hers, an assault instead of a kiss. He quickly grabbed it and placed it back against the furs, digging at her palms, not letting her go this time. No words came but her breathing quickened against his movements and shortly they were in their rhythm, a familiar tune of beating bodies and breathlessness, escaped moans and groans.
"Not yet, minn iss," he breathed, taking her hand again as she felt she would burst from him. He moved it to his chest and clasped the metal of her ring right over his heart before the euphoria poured out between them and he collapsed softly on her, both breathing heavily.
"Curse you, Ubbe Ragnarsson," she said, after some time, finally catching her breath. She beat softly on his chest. Lazily, he looked up to her from his spot on her. "I am not your plaything," she tried to summon a glare but only a smile came to her lips. She pushed him onto his back. "If anything, this is," she growled, taking him in her left hand. His breath cut short and his blue eyes showed a mixture of arousal and terror. "Men are so fragile," she teased, stroking him gently. "And so soft." Even though he was anything but in her hand. A groan pursed on his lip again. "Not yet," she goaded, straddling him.
"You're wicked," he muttered before her hand covered his mouth.
"That's not something to say to your wife," she said with a smile, slowly lowering onto him. He gently bit down on her hand as she rocked and gave another groan. She let her hand fall from his mouth to her sides. He gently moved them to her hips, covering them with his calloused hands and helped her sway, taking control of the movement.
Overwhelming, the pleasure surged through her again and she cast her head back, gasping for more air. He bit his lip in concentration, his eyes centered on her and pulled her deeper into him, eager to reach their climax together. His name formed on her lips, but she could only breath them out, no strength to actually speak them. "Come on," he urged, grinding more, somehow, into her. His whole body shook underneath her, and his breathing became more ragged. She let out a final moan and her thighs quivered helplessly. It was her turn to collapse onto his breast. Lightly stroking her back, he shifted her off of him to lay at his side, curled into him.
Sometime later, he took her left hand in his again and lightly kissed the silver on her finger. "Thank the Gods your aim was good," he chuckled, twirling it on her finger one more time. "I think it nicked my ear," he said, fettling with his ear lobe
"I'm glad you're not disfigured," she laughed.
"It would have been the perfect opportunity to kill me," he smiled.
"I'll keep in mind for later." She shifted slightly from her spot on his chest and peered up at him. She mainly saw the mass of beard, auburn and blonde hairs poking every which way. He wasn't grooming it like he usually did in Kattegat. "Ubbe," she said cautiously. "Can I ask you something? And I'm sorry if your answer makes me upset, but I have to know."
He gazed down at her and she could tell his eyebrow was cocked slightly to match his smirk. "What is the question?"
"What made you change your mind from Margrethe?"
He inhaled deeply and her head rose with his chest. Popping his lips together and puffing out his cheeks, he ran his hands through his messy hair. She knew he had thought about this answer before but was unsure on how to tell it. "I think we were always attracted to her because she reminded us of you," he started carefully. He shifted slightly and rose up on an elbow to look at her fully. "She was kind… caring… attractive… and filled that piece that was missing when you left Kattegat," he paused and playfully poked her nose. "After that night, I realized 'Why would I be with the copy, when it was the right time and place to be with you… the… original?'"
She irked slightly at original but took his meaning. "But why not ask me about my opposition after I behaved like that at the feast or in the streets of Kattegat?"
"I thought you were so strongly opposed to marriage. I realized if you didn't want to get married I would be with you regardless." She smiled softly and curled more into his chest. "But then Hvitserk told me about you two and you disappeared the last few weeks we were in Kattegat."
"It only took me saving your life for us to talk."
"And Sigurd... And being with you is something I couldn't delay any longer."
She propped up to look at him this time. "What are you going to do about Ivar?" She asked, she curled a piece of his chest hair on her finger.
"Bjorn has left that to me," he sighed heavily. "I fear a war between brothers will be the end of it."
"Why would it come to war?"
"Ivar always has war in him. That is why he has decided to conquer York."
"A large city like York would cement a settlement here."
"That is the only reason why I am agreeing to help him."
"We are going to help him," she corrected. She kissed his chest lightly and curled back into him.
