"What the hell are you wearing?" Aslaug asks, as soon as Ubbe and Torvi get out of their car. They have just arrived at the wedding venue, where they will be spending the weekend. A family member of Aslaug is getting married, and instead of holding a small party, she had decided to drag the entire family out to the other side of the country, and make them all spend a weekend together at a hotel.

"I'm wearing a suit." Ubbe shrugs. "Why?"

"Not that. What is that on your face? And your… oh for God sake. Go clean your nails. You look like a right old…"

"A what?" Ubbe asks, not even hiding his anger. "I like it, so I'm wearing it."

"You're a man, Ubbe. Men don't wear make-up."

"A lot of men wear make-up, actually," Torvi says. "Besides, he looks great."

"He always looks like this," Sigurd adds, but his mother shoots him an angry glare, so he quickly keeps quiet.

"Not here, you don't. I will not have you looking like this in these wedding photos," Aslaug says. "You either take that stuff off, or…"

"Or what?"

"Or you go home, Ubbe."

"But mum…," Ivar says, and they are all shocked that he is speaking up. "We are already late, aren't we?"

"I don't care. Fix it, now!" Aslaug spits out, before storming off.

"Where are Hvitserk and Margrethe?" Torvi asks, as Ubbe takes their suitcases out of the car.

"They have already gone inside. They were arguing when they got here, so they went up to their room," Sigurd explains. "He should have come on his own."

"She wouldn't have let him out of her sight," Torvi says. "That way he could have fled."


"You cleaned up then?"

"Yes. But only because I don't want to argue with you," Ubbe says. He feels naked without the black line around his eyes, exposed. But seeing as they will be stuck together at the hotel for the rest of the weekend, he had decided it would be best to keep the peace.

"You look so much better now." Aslaug smiles, and she wants to put a hand on the side of her son's face. But he brushes her off, and joins Torvi and his brothers, who are at the bar.

"Where's Margrethe?"

"She's in our room. She has a headache," Hvitserk says, but they can all see that he is lying. That more than likely, they have had another argument, and she has either locked herself in their room, or she has kicked him out.

"Will she be joining us tomorrow?" Ivar asks. "It would be such a shame if we would have to miss out on her lovely company all weekend!"

"I almost believed you there." Hvitserk glares at his brother, but he seems to shrug it off, as he grabs his drink, and finishes it in one go. "I'm sure her headache will be over by tomorrow."

"Thank God," Torvi says. "Then maybe we can braid each other's hair, or paint each other's nails. Maybe I'll ask your mum to join us too!"

"She still hates you then?" Sigurd asks, and Ubbe's girlfriend raises an eyebrow.

"I think she hates me more than she hates Lagertha."

"She doesn't hate you. She's just…"

"She hates me, Ubbe."

"She does," Ivar agrees, smiling into his drink. "She thinks you are a bad influence on Ubbe."

"She tells you these things?"

"No, but I listen in on her when she's on the phone. You should hear the things she says about dad and Athelstan."

"Oh, really?"

"I think we might need another round of drinks!"


The couple has just gotten married, and the whole family is now having dinner. The Lothbroks had all tried to sit together, but there had been a seating arrangement, and most of them had been split up, so they are all stuck with people they have never even met.

They are all trying to make the best of it, so Hvitserk had struck up a conversation with one of his mother's cousins. He had never met her, but his mother had grown up with her, so the woman had been happy enough to chat to him and to share stories about Aslaug. But while they are chatting away, Hvitserk can feel Margrethe's fingernails digging into his leg.

"What are you…," he begins, but when he looks up at her, he sees the angry look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"I'm still here, you know?"

"I know, but I'm just…"

"Hitting on her?"

"She's my mother's cousin!" Hvitserk whispers, hoping not to offend the woman, who is waiting to continue their conversation.

"You have been flirting with her ever since we sat down!"

"Keep your voice down, will you?"

"Or what?" Margrethe asks, now speaking even louder. "Scared people will found out what you are doing to me?"

"What I… stop it!"

"You are a cheater, Hvitserk!" Margrethe says, as people are starting to look at them, now noticing that they are arguing. "You are hitting on another woman, right in front of me!"

"Stop doing this!"

"No, I will not let you treat me like this anymore!"

"I am so sorry about this," Hvitserk apologises to everyone at his table, and to his mother's cousin in particular. "I don't know why she is doing this, she…"

"Is crazy? Is that it?"

"What is going on here?" Ubbe asks, as he comes over to them. "Are you okay?"

"We're fine," Hvitserk says, an embarrassed look on his face. "It's just a misunderstanding. Come on, let's go to our room."

"So you can keep me quiet again?"

"Margrethe, please…"

"You…!" Margrethe begins to shout, but Ubbe grabs her arm, an angry look on his face.

"Go to your room. Now!" he warns her. "I will not let you ruin this for our family."

The girl looks like she is about to object, but when she sees the majority of the room staring at her, she hesitates.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"We'll be fine," Hvitserk says. "Thank you."

He quickly leaves the room, with his girlfriend following him, but the uncomfortable silence remains in the dining room.

"I'm sorry about that. Young love, eh?" Ubbe says, trying to make light of the situation, trying to hide how worried he is for his brother.


"Do you think I should go see if he's okay?" Ubbe asks, checking his phone again. He has been texting his brother all night, but he hasn't seen or heard from him since dinner. And when he had knocked on his and Margrethe's door, there had been no answer. He knows that they would never physically hurt each other, but still he can't help but worry for his brother.

"I'm sure he's fine. They have probably made up after their fight, and they are…"

"Yeah, I don't want to think about that," Ubbe quickly says, before checking his phone again.

"Let's try and get some sleep. If they're not at breakfast, we'll check on them."

"I guess you're right, but…"

"Ubbe!"

"She's crazy, Torvi. Who knows what she is capable of."

"Go to sleep."

Ubbe turns off the light and he closes his eyes, but he knows that he won't be able to sleep. Not until he knows his brother is safe and well. But just as he is about to check his phone again, there is a knock on the door.

He jumps up, opens the door, and finds Hvitserk standing there. The tears are rolling down his face, and there are scratches on his neck.

"Come here," Ubbe whispers, and he pulls him into a hug. "What has she done to you?"

"You were right."

"I am so sorry, Hvitserk."

Ubbe lets him into his and Torvi's room, and he leads him over to the bed, where they sit down. Torvi has turned on the light by now, and she has gotten up, to pour them all a drink.

"What happened?"

"I tried to explain to her that I wasn't cheating on her, I was just…"

"Talking to mum's cousin. Yeah, I know."

"I would never cheat on her!"

"I know."

"But she…," Hvitserk says, but then a sob escapes from him, and he looks down at the floor. "She started shouting at me, and she just… I have never seen her like that before. It was like she was possessed, Ubbe."

"She scratched you?" Torvi asks, as she hands him a drink.

"Yes, when I tried to calm her down. I tried to give her a hug, but she…"

"You can't go back to her," Ubbe says. "She is crazy, Hvitserk. You can see that now, can't you?"

"I really wanted to make it work."

"I know, but she isn't right for you. You deserve someone who loves you, who…," Ubbe begins, but then he looks up at his girlfriend. "You deserve someone who treats you right."

"What am I supposed to do now?"

"Is she still in your room?" Torvi asks, and Hvitserk nods. "We'll go to your room tomorrow to pick up your things. But you are staying here tonight, with us. You can't go back to her."

"No, I'll go stay with mum, and…"

"And Sigurd and Ivar?"

"You're staying here," Ubbe says. "And you have to promise me this thing with Margrethe is over now."

"I…"

"I need you to promise me, Hvitserk," Ubbe says, grabbing his brother's hand in his. "No matter what she does, or says, you will not fall for it again."

"I won't."

"Promise me," Ubbe repeats, as he rests his forehead against his brother's. "I love you, and I need you to be safe, okay?"

"I promise."


"What is wrong with you?" Aslaug asks, when she comes over to the breakfast table the next morning. Her sons and Torvi are having breakfast, and they are discussing what had happened last night. They have all been trying to support Hvitserk, but when Aslaug shows up, Hvitserk looks like he is about to break down all over again.

"I…"

"Causing a scene like that!"

"Mum, he…"

"Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was?" Aslaug asks. "This is someone's wedding, Hvitserk, and you had to go and make it all about you!"

"I…"

"Where is that girl anyway?"

"If you would let him speak, he would be able to explain to you what happened," Ivar says, and his mother looks at him, a shocked look on her face, not used to him speaking back to her.

"She dumped me."

"Oh… I am sorry to hear that."

"No, you're not. You hated her."

"Well, I…"

"Whatever, mum," Hvitserk says, before getting up and storming off.

"He is not to blame for what happened yesterday," Ubbe says. "He had no idea what she was truly like."

"I suppose…"

"You should go and apologise to him?" Ubbe asks, but before his mother can say something, a cousin of hers comes up to her and drags her away. "I'll go see if he's okay."

"Want me to go with you?" Sigurd asks, but Ubbe shakes his head, and gets up and goes after his brother. He finds him outside the hotel, sitting on one of the benches, looking out at the pond. So he joins him, and puts an arm around his shoulder.

"Mum, she…"

"I know."

"Do you want to stay with us for a while, until it all settles down again?" Ubbe suggests, and his brother looks up at him. "Alfred has your room now, but…"

"It's fine, I can stay with mum."

"You can stay with me."

"Are you sure?"

"I've got to keep an eye on my little brother, don't I?"


Athelstan is cooking dinner, when Alfred joins him in the kitchen. He has a nervous look on his face, and he actually looks like he is about to leave again. So Athelstan flashes a reassuring smile, and sits him down at the table.

"What is it?"

"I ehm… I've been wanting to ask you something."

"Ask me."

"When we met, you and Ragnar said you had children, but…," Alfred begins, and Athelstan can already see where this is going. "And I know the boys are Ragnar's sons, but Sigurd told me that Aslaug is their mother. And Lagertha is Bjorn's mother. So… I was just wondering…"

"How am I their parent?"

"Yes," Alfred admits, an embarrassed look on his face.

"I'm not."

"Oh, but you said…"

"We did," Athelstan says. "You see, the boys, they are like sons to me now, so no, I am not their parent, not really, but I love them like they are my own."

"I see," Alfred says, taking a moment to take it in. "But there is something else Sigurd said…"

"What?"

"He said that Ragnar and Lagertha had Bjorn when they were teenagers, then Ragnar met Aslaug, and they got married."

"Yes."

"They had the boys."

"Yes." Athelstan can't help but smile, because Alfred seems so nervous to ask him, and he is trying his best not to get things wrong. He is trying so hard to become a part of the family, not realising that he already is.

"But Ragnar then went back to Lagertha."

"He did."

"But Sigurd said that Lagertha only moved out a few months ago."

"She did."

"So Ragnar was in a relationship with Lagertha until…"

"A few months ago," Athelstan sighs.

"But I thought you and him…?"

"We've been together for about a year now," Athelstan tries to explain, but when he puts it like this, he understands it must seem absurd to a fourteen year old boy who hasn't grown up in the Lothbrok household. And he can see the confusion on his son's face.

"So he cheated on Lagertha?"

"No, not at all! He and Lagertha, they ehm…" Athelstan wonders if he should explain this to him, or if he is too young for all of this. But he knows he can't let his son go on, thinking Ragnar had cheated on Lagertha. So he can't think of what else to tell him, other than the truth. "They sometimes dated other people, outside of their relationship."

"Oh…"

"But they knew about it, and they had permission from each other to do so. So it wasn't cheating," Athelstan explains. "Lagertha has actually had a girlfriend for as long as I have known her, and she is now living with her."

"But…"

"You can ask me," Athelstan says, flashing a reassuring smile, when he sees the hesitant look on his son's face.

"I thought that you could only ever be with one person at a time. So then… you and Ragnar, you have relationships with other people as well?" Alfred asks, and although Athelstan thought he was ready to answer every question, he hadn't seen this one coming. Because he and Ragnar hadn't actually discussed this, so he doesn't even know the answer. He doesn't want to lie to his son, but he also doesn't want to tell him that he doesn't know. That he isn't sure where he stands with Ragnar.

But before he has to answer, Ragnar steps into the kitchen, a big smile on his face.

"Did I hear my name?"

"No, I…," Alfred quickly says, an embarrassed look on his face. It is so obvious that he isn't used to talking about these things, that their household had been nothing like the Lothbrok household, where everything and anything can be openly discussed.

"We were just discussing our relationship," Athelstan admits.

"Ah! Anything you want to ask me?"

"No," Alfred quickly says, before getting up, ready to leave the room. But Ragnar stops him, and he opens up his arm.

"Come here," he says, and the boy comes up to him, and steps into his arms. Ragnar leans down, and whispers something into his ear, which brings a shy smile to the boy's face.

"What did you say?" Athelstan laughs, but Ragnar just shrugs.

"Go on then," Ragnar laughs, and the teenager leaves the room, still smiling.

"What did you tell him?"

"I heard what you told him about my boys."

"You did?" Athelstan asks, a shy smile on his face.

"They are lucky to have you as their parent, Athelstan."

"I'm not…"

"You are. And I know they would agree with me if they were here. They love you."

"And I love them," Athelstan admits. "I ehm…"

"Do you want to know what I told Alfred?"

"What?"

"I told him that he doesn't need to worry."

"About?" Athelstan nervously laughs.

"About me dating other people. Because I only have eyes for his father."

"Shut up, Ragnar."

"Because I am in love with you, and I am going to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you."

"You said that to him?" Athelstan laughs, his face as red as it can get by now.

"I did."

"You…"

"I meant it. I know you don't want things to change between us, and to…"

"I do," Athelstan quickly says. Ever since they had had their conversation, on the day when Alfred had come into their lives, when he had told Ragnar that he didn't want things to change, because he was scared, he had been thinking about it. He had been starting to regret it, because change to him had seemed like a bad thing, but he had come to the realisation that change could also be a good thing.

"You want things to change?"

"Yes, I want us to be…"

"What?"

"I want us to be more than this," Athelstan admits. "I want us to be… you know…"

"We already are more than we were, Athelstan," Ragnar laughs. "We're living together, we're raising our sons together…"

"I know, but…"

"I meant what I said. You are it for me," Ragnar says, before putting his hands on Athelstan's waist. "But if you want to keep it without a label, so you feel like there is less pressure, then…"

"I don't. Not anymore," Athelstan says, a small smile on his face, and he rests his forehead against Ragnar's. "I love you, Ragnar Lothbrok."


"You know you moved out last year, don't you?"

"He's staying with us for a while," Ubbe explains, as he carries Hvitserk's and his own bag into the living room. "Margrethe, she…"

"We broke up," Hvitserk explains. "and mum is acting like a total…"

"I see," Ragnar quickly says, not giving his son a chance to finish his sentence. "We gave your room to Alfred, so you'll have to sleep on the couch. Or you can take an air mattress, and…"

"He's staying in my room," Ubbe says, and Ragnar opens his mouth to speak, but he decides against it, because he knows that Hvitserk can do with his brother's love and support right now.

"How was the wedding?" Alfred asks, an excited look on his face, hoping to hear stories about a party. But his father and Ragnar can already tell that it has been one big disaster.

"It started out with mum forcing Ubbe to take off his make-up."

"She did what?"

"She just… it doesn't matter," Ubbe says, as he and his brothers join the others on the couch.

"She didn't want him to wear it in the wedding photos, because 'men don't wear make-up'," Sigurd explains. "She was a nightmare this weekend. And when Margrethe caused a scene at dinner, she blamed Hvitserk."

"What happened?"

"It doesn't matter." Hvitserk shrugs, an embarrassed look on his face.

"What's that on your neck? Did Margrethe do that?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Or about her, okay? It's done now."

"Will you talk to your brother about it?" Ragnar asks. "You're not going to bottle this up, are you?"

"He'll talk to me," Ubbe says, as he puts his arm around his brother, and pulls him into a hug.

"And you, don't listen to your mum," Ragnar says. "If you want to wear make-up, you…"

"I know. But I didn't feel like arguing with her. It's not worth the energy."

"Just don't let her get to you, okay?"