Fofis

I didn't even know until later when I got a phone call. The shipment coming in was blocked. F.B.I got in the way. A team led by an Agent Ressler. I was advised to get away for a while.  

I was royally pissed. I was just stepping into a role of respect and power and this was the first ounce of shit that I had to deal with.  

I remember my brother's reaction. He was smug, making small comments about how he could step in if I couldn't handle the pressure. I told him to go fuck himself as I was handed a file with any and all information that could be gathered on Agent Ressler.  

It was a matter of weeks before someone requested a meeting. A smaller player in my group. New but loyal. I liked the guy. I liked him even more when he immediately came clean about the F.B.I pushing him into being a criminal informant. I asked if the name Ressler was familiar, and once it was confirmed that it was, I felt a sense of glee at the game that was unfolding already.  

I loved cameras. Truly. They were everywhere and could be so discreet nowadays. It made it so easy to make sure that Agent Ressler was exactly where he needed to be when I called from my burner.  

"Hello, Agent Donald Ressler," I said when I saw him answer. He whipped his head around. "Oh, good lord, please don't tell me that you think I'm that bad at my job." 

There wasn't a response.  

"Oh, we're having one of those boring one-sided conversations, got it," I continued. "Well, I met your little informant. Good guy. Very loyal. He told me the second you tried to turn him. Rude, by the way. You don't see me going after your men like that." 

There was a huff of annoyance on the other line.  

"Tell me, Agent, how did you find out who I was," I asked. "Because I know it wasn't one of my men." 

"That's none of your business." 

"It actually is, Donny, because now you're trying to get in my way and I am not a fan," I replied. "You see, I'm just stepping into this role. Getting my footing, gaining some respect. I need you to butt out just long enough to make sure none of these men will aim their bullets at me just for the fun of it."  

"Not possible." 

"Well, you're gonna have to make it possible." I shrugged as I was handed a new stack of photos. I hummed. "And you're gonna have to learn how to be honest with me in the future because you are shit at hiding things. Give Raymond my best. Bye, Donny." 

I chucked the phone onto the table, muttering about it needing to be destroyed.  

My brother walked in a few moments later, plopping himself at my desk like it was nothing.  

"Impressive little trick," he said, playing with something on my desk. I snatched it from him. "Could've prevented all of this by keeping a closer eye on your men." 

"In case you missed it, I tricked the F.B.I," I explained. "I didn't lose a single man in the process and now I have open access to the head of the team trying to take us down. I am exactly where I need to be." 

"Until that agent gets clever." 

"Well, you wouldn't know clever if it slapped you, so I wouldn't worry your greasy head about it." 

He glared at me.  

"You're free to go now. Or do you need some physical encouragement." 

He shoved himself out of the seat and stormed out of the room. He was muttering to himself. I wouldn't see much of him after that night, but I took that as a blessing and merely asked someone to tail him and tell me if there was something interesting going on.  

Donald and I would continue meeting. Sort of. Phone calls and taunting messages.  

He snatched up a group of my men. I made sure to double the earnings I made to prove that I was still just as strong as ever.  

Over and over.  

I became annoyingly fond of our brief phone calls. There was something about sitting and teasing the very serious agent that filled my chest with something much different than just pride. Still, I would shake it off.  

I never thought that I would see Donald face-to-face. Ever.  

And then, the F.B.I showed up at my home.  

I was relaxing. It was a rare day where I didn't have any meetings.  

I only got the phone call as the agents were making their way up my driveway.  

I wasn't left with many options. Front yard was a no-go. There was no use in hiding in the house when they were going to search it. The only option was to go out through the back and get out of the house.  

I thought I was in the clear. Hidden well enough and far enough away from anyone's line of sight.  

I was wrong. 

Donald's voice was easy to recognize. Even when I had only heard it through phones and security cameras.  

"(Y/n), stop!" 

I don't know why it worked, but it did. I stopped in my tracks and lifted my hands up before turning around.  

I had never truly thought about seeing Donald Ressler in person. I had grown so accustomed to phone calls and video footage that it simply never crossed my mind. I never thought I would be close enough to deem the thought necessary.  

"Donny," I greeted, trying to sound confident and sure of myself, even though I very much was not.  

He paused for a moment. "Oh my god." 

I forced a scoff. "I know, not as put together as I wanted to be the first time we saw each other face-to-face." 

"You're a kid." 

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I can promise you that I'm not." 

He didn't have a response to that. He just stared at me. Still shocked, still confused. Like he had a very clear image of who I was going to be, and I had shattered it.  

"What," I asked.  

"I... I just assumed-" 

"Well, you know what assuming does." I shrugged at him.  

"You're good. Way too good. Even our... colleague... thought you would be an older right-hand man, not-" 

"My dad taught me well," I replied. I didn't need an F.B.I agent to tell me how good I was. It was honestly just weird. "Don't worry. Not a family thing. My brother's a disaster." 

Again, Donald was left with no response to that.  

"Go on then, arrest me," I said, pulling his attention back. "That's what you're here for." 

He paused. I could see the gears turning in his head.  

"What, Donny, scared I'm playing a trick?" 

"Go." 

It was my turn to pause. "What?" 

"Go, now." 

It was the first sign that our phone calls weren't just leaving an impression on me. Something had changed for him too since that first interaction in that empty warehouse. Something that I don't think either one of us wanted to think about or admit to.  

"Go!" 

I lowered my hands and turned around and ran off into the forest behind my place.  

I pulled out my burner, instructing one of my men to find me and get me out of there.  

I never told anyone about what Donald did. Never. I had no interest in drudging up the worries about what an F.B.I agent could do or the dangers of what could happen. I just wanted to move on and never think about it. If I was lucky, then Donald Ressler and his little team would focus on some new criminal for a while. I wouldn't have to call or talk or think about him for a while. Until I could get my own emotions under control.  

And then, there was the attack.  

I never knew about it. Never.  

It was a meeting. A big one about deals and profits and next steps. Everyone was there. That was why it happened that day.  

I was in the middle of talking to the group when some shouting and chaos started. I barely registered the sound of bullets flying until after I pushed to the ground and my desk was pushed over to form a makeshift barrier.  

I felt like I couldn't breathe. I hit the ground too hard. Too fast. I had no idea what was happening. Just that I was being held on the ground.  

It took far longer than it should have for me to be able to focus again.  

And I don't know if I had ever been so confused by what was right in front of me. 

"Donald," I asked quietly, the breath still knocked out of me as the chaos broke out around us. 

"In the flesh," he muttered, head on a swivel. He pulled me up, guiding me out of the room. 

"What're you doing here," I mumbled. "You shouldn't be here. You're a cop, they'll kill you-" 

"Let me finish saving your life before you scold me," he replied.  

We found ourselves in a small back room. It wasn't much. An empty room that I was in the middle of converting. Admittedly, the least incriminating room that he could've picked.  

"We have a guy on the inside of your brother's group," he explained before I could even ask.  

Oh. I knew about that. It was small. New. Not going well from what I was told. It must've been why he went after me.  

"Wasn't even looking for you. Didn't even know there was a connection. I found out about his plan." 

I slowly nodded and looked down for a moment before speaking up, "Doesn't explain why you showed up."  

"Just because I work for the cops doesn't mean that I want you dead." he shrugged. "Rather just arrest you myself." 

"Yet you're here with no back-up, no uniform, and as far as I can see... no handcuffs for that arresting thing." 

"I'm gonna go check out there and see if anyone needs help-" 

"My men have it handled." I stepped between him and the door. The chaos had already died down. They were great. "You're avoiding the conversation. Something scare you, Donny?" 

He scoffed.  

"Worried about being caught alone in a room with some big criminal, Donny?" 

He looked away from me. 

"What aren't you saying, Donny?" 

"Will you stop calling me that?" 

I stepped closer to him. "What are you gonna do if I don't?"  

There was a pause. A long one.  

Then, Donald took a turn stepping closer to me. His eyes found mine again. I could see the turmoil in his eyes. Every pro and con being laid out in front of him in real time. But it seemed like that list got promptly thrown out with any semblance of self-control.  

His hands found the sides of my face and he pulled me forward, leaving me with no choice but to end up with my body pressed against his as he kissed me. Not that I was complaining. Ever since our little phone after his bust, I had been picturing a moment exactly like this. Where the tension snaps and I get the excuse of adrenaline to explain all my bad choices.  

My fingers bunched up the front of his shirt, and I found myself disappointed that it wasn't one of the little suits that he was fond of wearing into work.  

He pulled back first, which almost upset me. I grumbled as I moved to drag him into another kiss, but then he stepped away completely.  

"I... I'm sorry," he muttered. "That... I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry." 

"Don't apologize," I replied. "Been waiting for that one." 

"I... I should go." he moved to walk around me. 

"God, you're such a baby!" I rolled my eyes at him as I spun around to watch him reach the door. "It was a kiss, Donny. No need to clutch your pearls." 

He didn't respond, but he did turn around to face me again.  

"I get it," I explained. "I really do. The big bad F.B.I agent just made a huge fuck-up by kissing a criminal. I get where the whole 'so-worried-you-might-shit-yourself' look is coming from. But you don't need to worry about it. I'm not gonna go around bragging about it." 

"Nothing can come from this-" 

"It could, if you let it." I shrugged.  

"Is that right?" 

"Yup," I replied. "Not many people I can trust. Makes it hard to fulfill a few needs. Who could I trust more than the F.B.I agent who's supposed to arrest me and won't?" 

"That's not-" 

"Don't lie to me." I held up a hand. "You have had now two opportunities to finally put me in cuffs and both times you have instead decided to protect me. Now, you've kissed me and I'm not gonna let you just run away from that." 

He took a breath. "I don't know what to do with... this. I can't-" 

"Keep your phone close," I said. "I'll be in touch." 

I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He didn't stop me. Hell, he didn't even flinch when I did it. I moved so my lips brushed his ear. He reached out and touched my sides. I grinned. 

"There's a door to the back over there," I explained. "Go that way. Keep your head down." 

He stepped back, nodding at me slowly.  

"Talk soon, Donny," I waved and blew him a kiss before turning around and going out the door that he had dragged me through originally.  

"Boss!" 

I turned around at the sound of my men.  

"You're okay!" 

"No, I'm pissed," I snapped. "I told you to keep an eye on him. There's no world where he should've gotten that close to taking me out. Clean this mess up. Now!" 

As they went running off, I looked over my shoulder. Donald was still there. I could see him through the crack in the door. I winked at him before turning to follow where my men went.  

This was going to be fun. Very, very fun. 

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History had always had this odd tendency repeating itself.

The first one was Ragnar Lothbrok. He cheated on his wife with princess Aslaug – Ubbe's mother – and she showed up on his doorstep with child – his child. Lagertha had no choice but to leave him. After all, that should be the actions of everyone who had a little bit of dignity left in them.

History is the greatest tutor. It taught you that being a great man, doesn't have to mean that you are an equally great husband.

The sons of Ragnar had a long legacy behind them from the past coming from their father and from the future because they were destined to score great achievements matching their father's reputation or even overcoming him. Though they were famous about their battle and political exploits, when it came to their intimate relationships things were completely the opposite. All their glory were coming in contrast to the infamous rumours surrounding them.

To be honest, the loyal husband didn't exist – or it was extremely rare to exist among them. It was a common secret that they had their affairs in the lands they were raiding, but it was only because they wanted someone to warm their bed for some nights before they come back to their families.

You had never cared about Ubbe's affairs. In fact, you wished something like that happened because you wanted to be free away from this who you hated passionately. But never guessed that the day your wish came true would come. Also, you would never believe that you could feel any other feeling than hate or disgust or anything bad about this awful man.

This was the worst thing that could happen and it did happen at the worst time possible. Ubbe and you had started developing weird feeling for each other – but probably it happened for the best. You were only in the beginning of feeling less abhorrence about the other person and luckily you were back on same terms before you would disappear from Kattegat for good.

Thinking about taking your child and walking away made your heart clench in your chest. You didn't want young Ragnar to grow up apart from Ubbe. You wanted them close, but you couldn't keep them close anymore. You couldn't stay and be more humiliated than before. It wasn't right neither for you nor for your son.

You knew you had to leave immediately and you would when the boy would recover from the flue. He was better the past three days – the fever was almost gone.

The same as Ubbe. Ubbe was barely around. You two couldn't stand each other in the same house. As you were informed by Torvi, he was having restless nights at Great Hall in the company of his brothers.

He wasn't seeing Margrethe anymore.

He barely talked to her.

He didn't talk at all to you.

You didn't talk at all to him.

The only moments his tired hoarse voice made it in your ears were when he was talking to your son, but even then you didn't want to hear him at all. His voice was irritating you even more than before.

You didn't want him around, but you couldn't keep him apart from his son – not when you were about to take him away from him in a matter of days.

You were trying not to think – especially not for him and not when he was around. It was even worse thinking about him and sensing his presence being in the same place as you were.

It was one of those moments, Ragnar was laying on his father's lap and was listening carefully to the stories Ubbe was telling him about his father and the cities they had raided. Ubbe was speaking about his family's legacy proudly and your son was looking at him magnetized. It felt like he was hanging from each word coming out of his mouth.

You dared to dream about a total different life for a damned second, but you erased that bloody thought from your mind the following one. There couldn't be any other alternative life that Ubbe and you could live happily married with Ragnar. You were meant to be at each others throat.

You turned around and pretended to clean your already cleaned house because you didn't want to look at him anymore. You didn't even want to breathe the same air as him.

It was all back to normal – you were back to hate him. The only difference was that after all these events you hated yourself more than you hated him. You were at fault more than he was because you let your guards down. Even for a little amount of time you let yourself change your feelings. It wasn't a wasn't a great change but still it was enough to get hurt.

Hopefully, you wouldn't get to be around him anymore if everything worked according to your plan. You didn't really like the idea of Ragnar growing up without his father, but you couldn't stay. You had been enough humiliated so far because of him and his mistress.

You would have left sooner if it hadn't been for your sick son, but he was getting better now. If your plan worked right, you would be away from this place in two nights from this moment. You would grab your son and leave at dawn before the any fisherman or merchant saw you. You had even paid some fisherman a great amount of gold to let you sail on his boat in the nearest town and there you would find your way alone.

Your mind was so absorbed in your thought about your escape plan that you didn't notice Ubbe and your son moving from the bed. Ubbe stood up and had the child on his lap before placing him inside his crib. After that he came behind you, standing there uncomfortably without saying a word. When, in fact, Ubbe wanted to say something – anything.

You almost startled when you faced him so close to you, but you didn't do any action that would let him notice. It had felt so long since the last time you were facing each other this close – the last time you had fought about his child with that girl. This time didn't feel any different.

You were standing facing each other without speaking, but there were so many unsaid things between you. So much tension that both of you couldn't unsee the fact that it existed.

Before, in moments like that – when you were staring at each other – you were throwing blades at each other. It felt like a whole single combat between the two of you. The first to take his eyes away from the other was the one who lost the battle. But this time, it didn't feel like it.

The anger and hatred were participating as any other time. Only now, another emotion was there too, in addition with the other two. It felt like guilt, coming from both sides for different reasons.

Though Ubbe was the one to blame for the best part of this situation they were put into. It would be only fair to let her go without any word and he knew it himself deep in his heart, but it was hard to accept it – to deal with it. They weren't in the best of terms ever – in fact not even close to good ones – but she had never left or had done anything to humiliate him in public. Their personal matters were kept to themselves within the walls of this house – though it was a common secret that they weren't getting along. Apart from that they kept themselves civil in public and in front of his family even though they knew everything about them.

Ubbe cleared his throat first. He had been wanting to say something since the moment he set his foot in the house, but couldn't form a word. But he knew that he couldn't keep himself from speaking. He had to say something – it felt now or never. Ubbe wanted to clear his position, to apologize. He knew that you wouldn't let him do so.

You were a proud woman – he knew it as he knew that you wouldn't let him say anything about the matter that would be keep things civil between you. In any case, this would end up bad, like it always did. You would fight again and this time it might be worse than the other times because this time you had something really serious to argue about.

"The child seems better." This was the only thing Ubbe managed to say.

You rolled your eyes at his statement and felt your blood boiling. It felt like he was in disbelief that you managed to take good care of your son and he was healthy all over again. You were mad at him for all the other situation with the slave girl, but him undermining you was worse than cheating.

"Did you believe that he wouldn't?" You tone was harsh and bitter. At the sound of it, Ubbe's expression changed. His features hardened and his jaw was clenched. The battle had started once more – like any other time.

"Would you blame me for that? It isn't like you are the most caring person around." His tone was matching to your own which enraged you even more than before. You had all rights of Midgard to be angry and he was trying to turn it to you being a bad mother because you were mean to him.

It wasn't like you didn't know it – you knew that your actions towards him wasn't kind but the opposite. But you weren't this way to your son. Ragnar the Younger was your only comfort, your only companion. The person who made you like your life when you hated it more than ever.

Your love for him was sincere. How could it now be, he was your only child even though he was also the son of your nemesis you couldn't feel any less love for the person who grew inside your body and got out of it. He was yours and you adored him.

"But your whore is, right?" You felt like you were going to strangle him to death with your bare hands. After your words, you didn't even wait for an answer of his or any movement, you were mad and you wanted to take it out of you without pressing your hands on his throat. You had never did something like that – you had slapped him, yes, but your hands never went further than that. "If you believe that she is, you are stupid enough. I have learned not to underestimate any rival of mine and I certainly haven't underestimated you or her. How could I underestimate a slave girl? Slave girls can do anything to get them out of the low position they are and be in power and when they manage to free themselves, they want more and more." A fire was dancing inside the color of your eyes. You were mad and you couldn't keep the words from getting out – you didn't want to keep them.

Ubbe didn't get to say anything. His eyes were glaring directly inside your own burning eyes – his gaze was no different than yours. He didn't answer and you after a short breath you started again with the poisonous words.

"It's so easy to notice that she is a gold digger after your status. Just by looking at the way she has all of you – the sons of the mighty Ragnar Lothbrok – wrapped around her little finger you can say it. You fools have sincere and true feelings for her – how pathetic. But I won't blame you, you can't choose who your heart belonges – unfortunately. Just don't ever judge me again. You can't because you don't me." One long breath again. Your eyes always on his – sign of you believing every word that came out of your mouth. Ubbe was listening to you, preparing for his own little speech.

"I won't deny that I am a cruel woman – I know I can be harsh and bitter, but that's how I grew up. It wasn't easy for me either. I am not a thrall, but all my life it felt like I was. My fate – it seems – is controlled by men, treating me like an object they can use to secure some kind of alliance or a womb that's only use is to produce heirs. But I am a woman – a person." You almost tear up, but before even your tear came make it further than your eye you manage to wipe it away.

When you finished, Ubbe was running his hand through hair, ready to speak himself.

"You speak a lot without really knowing what you are saying – yet your words is your truth. I am not saying that life was kind to you – I can't know what has happened to you before I met you, I can only assume. My life hasn't been kind as well. Everyone is expecting extraordinary things from me because of my father – a father that was never there for me. Most of my life I've been only with my mother – who was never really there – and my brother – Bjorn. If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't be the man I am." Ubbe was starting calmly and yet so intensely.

"As for Margrethe, don't judge her you don't know her the way me or my siblings do. The problem is between us – it had always been there. We are the people to blame about the tragedies of our lives. You and I have made mistakes and the worst of them all was our lack of interest in hearing to each other. You had problems and I had mine when we married and we let those problem tear us apart. Both of us haven't been the ideal person for the other, but here we other stuck with each other having a conversation that had to be made a long time ago.

"We fucked up our lives with our bare hands and now after all this time of failing ourselves we are called to deal with the consequences."

"You fucked up our lives big time." Your words came out in the most selfish way possible when his own were spoken wisely and reasonably. That was Ubbe people knew and loved.

"Me, alone? As if you are a saint." His bitterness was back, but it wasn't enough to make you stop. You were mad at him.

Yes, his words were right. You were the authors of your destruction and downfall, but his doing – his intimate relationship with her and the aftermath of it, their child – was the worst part of it and was his own doing. He had tore you apart and signed your end. He couldn't say it was both your doing. Well, partially it was, but Ubbe was the one to take the most of the credit about it.

"I am not, but I wasn't the one who humiliated you by sleeping and impregnating a thrall. Be the reasonable man you claim you are and accept the amount of the blame you have, along with the consequences that follow." You spoke calmer than before and took first your eyes away from his. You moved away from him to the crib of your son to check on him. He was asleep, luckily you were calmer than usual and he was able to take his nap.

"This incident is just the tip of the iceberg. We have equal amount of blame for the rift in our marriage." He continued behind you in a tired tone of voice.

Your eyes moved away from the small form of your son and moved to the much larger one of Ubbe. You rolled your eyes once more frustrated. You were done by this. You knew what you had to do to stop all these arguments and drama – you were going to leave just a couple of days had left for you to endure Kattegat and Ubbe.

"Which marriage are you talking about? There's no marriage. You destroyed that." You weren't yelling – just scoffing. But your words, you damn well that wasn't the entire truth. It would be the whole truth if you said that you both destroyed your marriage with your foolish actions.

Your scoffing made Ubbe even more than he was. He moved towards the table and sat down on one of the wooden chairs. You stayed at your former position. You were standing close to your son's crib in front of him.

"You are my wife and that won't change even though both of us would like that." Harsh and calm tone, enough to make your blood boiling for once more. Your lips pursed in a thin line and your jaw clenched.

"Yeah, I forgot you would love to free her and then marry her." Your own tone was an ironic one when you referred to her.

"I intend to marry her regardless."

Your eyes turned to meet his – his blue ones were already gazing you. It was one of those rare moments he caught off guard. For a moment or so you thought that you misheard him, but the fucking expression on his face told you otherwise – told you that you heard clearly his words.

"What?" Your voice wasn't louder than a whisper.

"I'll take her as a second wife of mine. I would tell you under different circumstances, but I have to realize that there would never be ideal or even better circumstances between us. So, yes, Margrethe will be my wife and she will give birth to my child." The whole time Ubbe was speaking, his eyes were studying you – your eyes, your expressions, everything.

You managed to take a couple of steps away from the crib. You couldn't even form a word, because you couldn't process his words.

"Your first and only wife you meant to say."

"You are my first wife."

"I am not your wife anymore."

Your whole conversation was happening – surprisingly – in the most civil way possible. No bitterness, not poisonous words, nothing. The first and hopefully the last time.

"This conversation goes nowhere. You are way too stubborn to understand a couple of things and I have a tone of fucking stuff to deal with. If you decide to calm down before the marriage, good. If not, then I'll take matters in my own hands the way I know." Ubbe stood up from the chair and moved towards you not too close, but not far enough.

"Don't do anything impulsive for your sake."

Low voice, quite threatening and eyes gazing deep in your soul. But you would never let him notice that. You were eyeing him the same way – you would never back down to none especially him.

"I am not afraid of you." Your voice was challenging and for the first time after days a vicious smirk formed on his face.

Ubbe leaned towards you, his hot breath fell on your neck. He took a sip of your scent before any word came out of mouth.

"Maybe not at the moment, but you will be." His voice was soft – softer than ever. Yet that was definitely a threat.

You didn't get to answer to that because he stormed out of the house, leaving you behind confused and angry – definitely not afraid.

The days felt insufferable. Each was another torment for you. You couldn't even step out of the door of your house, everyone was pointing their fingers at you, gossiping about your husband's offspring with the slave girl. They were mocking you – something that you proud self couldn't accept. You glared at them but that wasn't enough to restore your dignity. The only thing that would help your reputation would be to leave him for good and never ever step a foot on this damned grounds.

And the big was finally there. You were only an hour away from your freedom, but your heart was aching. It felt wrong and apart from this another strange feeling were eating you up alive. You felt like you shouldn't leave with your son, but this wasn't an option. You were out of options indeed at the end of the day.

You didn't bother to wake up Ragnar. You wrapped him in a thick fur and put your own black cloak on.

The sheet of snow on the ground and the roofs of the houses was thick. It was very cold this time of the night out there. You shouldn't be out, but you had to make it in the dock and leave to save any little dignity you had left after your husband's achievements.

You walked like a shadow in the way that led on the dock. Your weird feeling was getting stronger and stronger at each step you took towards the directions you wanted. It felt like your heart was trying to warn you not to go – not to leave Ubbe – but your mind was telling you otherwise. You had to leave, to get in that boat and move away from Kattegat.

Eventually, you made it on your destination and took off the hood of your cloak, but something felt off. Things didn't go as you planned them to.

Two men were standing in front of the dock and there wasn't any boat close enough. Moreover, the fisherman you had paid to help you was nowhere to be found. You were watching them like a hawk, trying to study them and find to get away somehow. There was no way back to Kattegat.

You turned around to step back – not to your house – to the forest. There should be a way to escape from the forest. However, when you did turned around, your eyes widened when you spotted Ubbe eyeing you with two men standing next him. Both of them were his brothers – Bjorn and Hvitserk. You couldn't read his face, but you knew by heart that he was angry and tried to hide it under this mixed expression.

Before you even thought about anything to say, Ubbe had already started walking in your direction. You couldn't really anything – you didn't need to. Both of you knew that this was the only right thing to do for the sake of your dignity, but Ubbe would never let you slip away in the middle of the night with his son on hands. Once Lagertha had managed to leave his father and Bjorn had gone her. Ubbe couldn't let you take his eldest away. He couldn't bear the thought of his boy growing away from him.

"I told you not to do anything impulsive, but per usual you didn't listen to me." Ubbe whispered to you when he was just a breath away from you. His hands wrapped around your son's little body and pulled away from your hands violently, waking him up by the way he pulled him.

The boy started crying and you yelling.

"Don't touch him! Give him to me! Ubbe!" You were yelling at him as he was walking at the other way around towards his brothers. You tried to reach him and take your son back, but the two men you saw earlier grabbed you by force by both of your arm and didn't let you approach. You were hitting them and were trying to break free but they were far more stronger than you. "No! No! No! You can't do that to me, Ubbe! NO!" You were yelling crying. Your son was crying as well on Hvitserk's lap. You sank on your knees, still trying to break free and reach your son. "You are a monster! I fucking hate you!"

Hvitserk was trying to calm down your son, but he couldn't unsee your state.

"Ubbe, maybe you should—" Hvitserk tried to reason with him, but Ubbe stopped him using both words and movements of his hands.

"Don't get involved in that, Hvitserk. This is between me and my wife." Ubbe's voice was stern as his steps were bringing him closer to your wrecked form.

"Your former wife. Former." You spitted as he was kneeling in front of you. He clicked his tongue inside his mouth when he heard you.

Swiftly his hand pulled your face by your chin and your eyes met – yours were burning full in tears and his had gone darker, they had the darkest shade of blue you had ever seen. Shortly after your eyes met, his hand moved from your chin to your throat. It wrapped around your neck so firmly that you almost couldn't breathe, but you didn't care at this point. The worst part of this situation you were into was your son's crying – it broke your heart. You wanted to reach him and caress him, sing to him and calm him down.

"You are my wife. Mine. Like it or not this is the way." Ubbe was speaking in hoarse and stern tone all the time. He was imposing and serious. "Now you have two options here and that's because I am a generous person. If it was for another man, you wouldn't have the option to see your son again, because you would be dead or worse." He left your throat and ordered his men to help you stand. At first you resisted, but eventually you did as he said. Ubbe stood up as well and for once more you were facing each other.

"Your first option is to leave. You are free to go where ever you like away from Kattegat – away from me." He started say and motioned to his men to set you free – something they did instantly.

You frowned you couldn't believe your ears. There has to be something there he wasn't going to let you leave just like that – not after all this chaos.

"But my son stays here. You will leave and never lay a foot on Kattegat. You will never see him again."

At the sound of this, you felt your heart clenching. It was like he had stabbed you with his knife directly in your heart and then ripped it out of your body. You couldn't leave your son behind and never see him again.

"No, I can't do that! You can't do that!" You cried and gazed only at your son, but Ubbe's hand wrapped around your jaw tightly and forced you to look at him, when you tried to look back at your son he didn't let you. He kept your face stable at your former position.

After your words, Ubbe smirked.

"So this leaves us with the second option. You will stay here, be my wife – my loyal wife – and you will move in the Great Hall with me. You will accept my marriage with Margrethe and give us your blessing. Also, you will never try to harm her or my child or else you will never see Ragnar the Younger again. That's a promise." He continued and left your face. After that, he moved back to his brothers who were watching the whole scene without talking after Hvitserk's attempt to reason with him. "I'll give you a second to think about your options. Think about it well."

Ubbe took Ragnar on his hands trying to calm him down himself, but he couldn't – Ragnar was still crying.

You approached them – tears were falling like waterfalls from your eyes – and opened your hands for Ragnar. Ubbe didn't give him to you even after he saw the boy's hands lifting towards you – he wanted you.

"You won't get to touch my son unless you choose correctly."

Before you mumble your answer, you wiped your tears from your soaking cheeks.

"Everything will happen as you wish. We will go to the Great Hall and I'll give you my blessing for your marriage. I'll take care of your wife and your child. Just give me my son. Please Ubbe." You hadn't felt more humiliated than this moment ever again. Even when you learned about the slave girl and her child, you didn't feel like this.

He let you have your son. When he brought him on your hands, you let your tears fall freely. You closed your eyes and smelled his scent. After that, you placed a long kiss on his forehead.

"He is my son and don't you dare think of doing something like this again, because next time I won't be this generous to you." Ubbe whispered to you and you didn't answer.

As long as you had Ragnar on your hands, you didn't care about anything else. Neither your dignity nor who Ubbe slept with. You were defeated for good. You had lost the war of your life. Your life had no meaning apart from your son. You were nothing more than a mother. Ragnar was all that had left in your life and you would give it to protect him – or end with the worst way possible whoever dared to harm him.

The following day you moved in the Great Hall, earning scoffing and mocking looks from the people in it – even the queen had a weird look on her face like she was questioning the choices you had made and your approval for Ubbe's second marriage with a thrall. The people who knew were the only ones who showed quite the sympathy, but still they were on Ubbe's side. You had no allies in this place. You were on your own as you had always been.

"Welcome in the Great Hall." The queen was the one to welcome you first. You didn't even pretend that you were glad about it, didn't even bother to force a fake smile on your face.

"It's good to have you here. Maybe you could help us with the preparations of the wedding." Margrethe was the one to speak next. She approached you smiling. Your gaze met the one of Ubbe's who was already on you, expecting your answer to his bride. You knew better than to cause a scene.

"Sure. It would be nice." You spoke, earning the laughter and mockery of Ivar. You couldn't blame him though. If it wasn't for Ragnar, you would scoff at yourself for your foolishness.

The day of the wedding was even worse than anything you had to endure so far. Maybe that was the worst day of your life and not the day of your own wedding to him. This day and the day you tried to escape with your son had been marked on your memory as the worst day of your life – you couldn't really choose which one had been worse than the one. You only knew that on those days you had been humiliated and violated in the worst ways possible.

You used to be a proud woman – now you were the exact opposite of that. You were dishonoured. You felt small and vulnerable in public, but kept trying to not break in front of the prying eyes. They had disgrace your honor, but you would never let them see how much it affected you.

You wore one of your finest dresses and put on your best of efforts to keep forcing fake smiles on your face. Your hair was braided on a tight bun. The dress you wore was black unlike the bride's white.

You were the first one to walk down the aisle and notice everyone. It was an open wedding – all Kattegat participated to confess your public humiliation, but you kept your forced smile there and waited for them. Ubbe and Margrethe followed shortly after you.

Everything was blurry for you until the Gothi asked who would give the bride to her husband. You forced a smile and without a lot words you gave her the ring made of gold Ubbe had picked for her. Then, the priestess blessed the three of you with the blessed blood of the sacrifice and it was you who had to give your bless about their union next, before the Gothi would bless the ring and Ubbe would put it on her finger.

That was the most difficult part of it. You weren't hurt about the fact they were getting married – you couldn't be. Ubbe had treated you the way your father did and that was enough to had the same feelings for him as you had for your father – to despise him. They treated you like one of their possessions, like an object. You wantes to believe that even the person he were towards you – Ubbe was different from him. But eventually they were all the same.

Margrethe lifted her hands which were inside a wreath and you touched it. You wanted to destroyed the moment your hands touched it, but you didn't do that. Instead, you freed her hands from and let it slip on the floor.

"You are free." You looked at her with your fake smile and tears threatening your eyes. Tears that you would never let them fall. You were stronger than that. Apart from relying on your own strength, you had asked Frigg herself to help you endure this. "Go, marry my husband... with my blessing." You paused for the shortest of breaths and touched your hands with Ubbe's and Margrethe's. After that you were enough not to remember the rest of the ceremony.

A feast came after this parody of a wedding. You were seated on the right side of Ubbe and Margrethe on the left. You didn't really payed attention to the conversations in the Hall, neither tried to start one. You were seated on your chair drinking ale from a curved horn.

You were quiet until Lagertha – or Earl Ingstad – approached and sat down in the empty chair next to yours. You smiled politely at her and fake. By the look on her face you were sure that she could say whether or not that smile was sincere. She knows more than people would like to.

"I have a question for you, though I know the answer myself." She started and got all of your attention on her.

"What would that question be?"

"Why did you blessed this union? Why did you stay?" Her voice was soft along, but her gaze sharp. She was studying you – reading your mind. "You and I have more in common that we would like. Once I was in your place as well. I know the feeling."

You took a long sip from your drink and worked on your answer for some seconds. You weren't going to say the truth – you weren't going to mention anything about that night. You wouldn't like to be called a coward, but better a coward than a childless mother. After all, you were there because of Ragnar the Younger, not because of Ubbe.

"Not all of us are as strong as you."

Lagertha seemed pleased by the way you chose to answer. Her hand reached for yours and she leaned closer to you. Her voice was softer than a whisper – you barely heard her – and when her words made it in your ears you were surprised.

"Yes, because you are stronger. No woman would let herself be disgraced in such way because of the love for her child. I – I didn't. When I left Ragnar, Bjorn didn't choose to come along, but eventually changed his mind. A son should be close to his father – yes – but no mother must be away from her child." Her words made your heart clench. As one mother to another she could understand your agony and pain for your only child.

A true smile formed on your face and you gave it to her, before she retreat to her original seat.

The rest of your night went by the same way it did before Lagertha showed up. Ivar would leave his offensive remarks which didn't really bother you anymore. Hvitserk wouldn't be in his usual mood due to this marriage – something like yourself. Sigurd didn't really seem offended or affected by Ubbe's choice to marry the girl. Bjorn was Bjorn – he was his usual self. After all he was the only one who never had or seeked any kind of relationship with her.

When you retreated to your chamber, you found Ubbe having Ragnar on his lap, talking to him about one more story of his family's saga. When he spotted you, he left the chair he was sitting and came closer to you, giving you the child.

"You were unexpected today." Ubbe noted and you almost let a bitter chuckle leave your mouth.

"I didn't have a choice." You spoke, looking only at your son. The only time you decided to look at him was to ask him about something. "And why are you here, anyway? Isn't your wedding night? Shouldn't you be with your new wife?" There were more than a question – more than you intended to ask – but it came out naturally.

Ubbe decided to avoid the answer you gave him after his remark and focused on your questions.

"I wanted to see my son." He said casually tickling with one of his hands your boy, making him jiggling and laughing. You smiled at the sound of his angelic laughter. "And you." This time his voice was much softer than any other time. Your eyes met and you tried to focus back on your son and not on the fast rate of your heartbeat.

"Ragnar is fine, I am fine. Go to your wife." You said quickly turning your back.

You were walking through the room, caressing your son's back. That was one of your desperate attempts to put him to sleep. He was upset the nights away from home – your former home. He wasn't used here and he would refuse to go to sleep.

"You are also my wife."

You sighed harshly when he reminded you – like you could forget when he was around all the time. Or you could forget when you were giving your blessing to wed another. Or when he forced you to stay. Or—

A soft knock on your door was enough to stop all your thoughts and prevent you from giving him any answer. Ubbe opened the door himself and revealed Hvitserk.

"Sorry to interrupt you." He spoke looking at you and you smiled at him.

"You don't. Ubbe was just leaving."

"Yeah, that was exactly the reason I came. We are expecting you. Don't be late." He whispered to his brother, but not low enough for you not to hear them. You didn't even want to think about the topic of their conversation, but you could imagine – much to your displeasure. Your mind was getting there not following your attempts not to. After these words from brother to brother, Hvitserk turned to apologetically. "Sorry again."

"Goodnight." You muttered and he winked at you. Ubbe closed the door, but not before he overheard your whisper to yourself. "I suppose that it will indeed be a good night." You laughed to yourself and he did the same as he closed the door behind his brother.

"We—" Ubbe started saying awkwardly. A hand was at the back of his head, scratching him skin. You stopped him, before he could even form a second word.

"No need to tell me anything. It's your personal life." You told him quickly, raising one of your hands – the one which wasn't holding the child – to stop him.

"You are part of my personal life." His voice was hoarse and calm for once more. As he was speaking, he was moving towards you for once more.

"I am part of your chores. I suppose." You smiled. One more real smile that evening. He smiled as well.

"No. Do you want one truth?" Ubbe was whispering now. He had stopped right in front of you. Your son was the only thing who kept you apart.

"Only one?" You kept whispering as he did.

Both of you were smiling.

"Just one."

"Go ahead, say it. I promise I won't tell a soul."

"Good. Coming back to you had always been my top priority since we met."

Your whole conversation was made of whispers and smiles – like a sacred prayer. One that was so sacred and holy that shouldn't be heard from the other. Your first and only silent one without yelling or anything loud.

You hadn't noticed how close to each you were standing until you stopped talking. All this closeness felt uncomfortable.

You took your eyes off of him and looked at your son – he was asleep. You smiled at the sight.

"He is asleep." You told Ubbe softly enough not to wake the boy.

"Yeah – um – I should probably get going." He was saying awkwardly as you were placing your son inside his crib.

"Yes, I think you should. Goodnight." You muttered and smiled uncomfortably at him.

Ubbe took a few steps back and mouthed a rushed "goodnight" before he was out of your door.

You felt yourself smiling at the memory of your previous conversation, the most real in all this time you knew each other. The only one which didn't end up in a fight or happened within one. The most calm and yet the most intensive you had.

If only this was the beginning and nothing had happened before that.

You moved you head in an attempt to remove these thoughts. Ubbe was in Margrethe's chamber with Hvitserk celebrating their first night as a wed couple and before he had forced to stay in Kattegat and suffer under the roof of the Great Hall.

Things wouldn't change with a couple of romantic thoughts. After all, any time you had one of those things had the tendency to become even more wild between Ubbe and yourself. As far as you stayed in the comfort of your chamber – away from everyone and their drama – you were safe.

Your child was the only person you needed around and Ubbe was the opposite – the person you definitely hated to have around. He and his new wife were the people you wanted to avoid and you were going to try.