#ubbe fluff

He had a beautiful wife. A beautiful, kind, loving, sweet wife, sitting at home all alone whilst he was sat in the great hall with a woman sitting on his lap, one hand disappearing under her skirts as the other one cupped her face whilst his tongue was practically down her throat.

Ubbe was having to bite his tongue to keep himself quiet as Margrethe sat tense beside him, her normally bright blue eyes turned darker when the woman sat upon Hvitserks lap began moaning softly, Ubbe knew exactly why his wife was tense, she was jealous. Jealous of the woman who was sitting on her married brother in laws lap, jealous of the woman that would be warming her married brother in laws bed that night and not her.

He knew that his wife warmed more than just his brothers bed, of course he did, he was there most times, but ever since Hvisterk married the woman who now sat in their small cottage all alone - those moments were now rare. Not knowing that his wife and brother were now meeting up in secret. In all truth, he thought that his brother wouldn’t be seeking other skirts to chase, not when he had such a beautiful wife awaiting him at home every night.

The woman’s unabashed loud moans had Ubbe slamming down his knife and fork on the table. “Do you really have to do that here whilst we are trying to eat?”

“What’s your problem?” Hvisterk asked amused as he finally pulled himself away from the woman’s neck where he was decorating it in marks.

Choosing to ignore his brother he turned to the woman. “You do know he is married, right?”

“So?” She giggled in a breathless moan. “I don’t see her here, do you?”

Without saying another word to anyone he stood up and walked out of the hall. His brothers wife, so sweet and caring didn’t deserve a husband like the one she was given, Ubbe thought as he walked away from his brothers and wife, ignoring their calls for him to come back.

The first time he saw the woman who was going to marry his brother was nearly two years prior, her father was an Earl from the neighbouring village who had fought alongside Ragnar in every battle his father had. Ubbe stood by his nervous brother laughing lightly at Sigurds and Ivars taunts as the longboat came to a halt next to the docks, the young woman was accompanied only by her older brother as her father had died three years earlier, the first thing he had noticed was that her body was bigger than the women in Kattegat - filling out the pretty dress better than anyone else who would have worn it. As she got closer he couldn’t remove his eyes away from her face, it truly was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, her wide, bright eyes were kept on the queen as introductions were made. His feet wanted to step forward when Aslaug said. “This is my son, the one you’ll marry.” But unfortunately his name wasn’t called, no, no it was Hvisterk, the one that had scratch marks on his back given to him by the farmers wife, knowing that fact had acid burning in his throat.

That night after everyone had gone to bed, the four brothers gathered around the hearth with cups of mead. “I can’t marry her.”

“Why?” Sigurd questioned.

“She’s fat!” His favourite out of his brothers cried. “I can’t have a fat wife!”

“She’s pretty.” Ivar spoke quietly from his spot next to Ubbe. “And she has wide hips, great for bearing children.”

Hvisterk laughed, a cold and cruel laugh. “I will not be giving her my seed! I don’t want a fat pig like her having my children.”

Sigurd looked towards the hallway with a sad smile on his lips as Ubbe tried to make his brother see sense. “You’ll need to have a child or two with her, you’ll grow to love her Hvit.”

“No I don’t and I won’t. I’d rather have bastards than give that fat woman my seed.”

Even Ivar, the one that was the heartless out of them sighed in disappointment. “She seems nice.”

“You marry her then!” Hvitserk snapped.

“I would if I could.” The youngest shrugged. “But unfortunately for her she’s been promised to you.”

“Why unfortunately? She should be lucky.”

Ubbe blanked out the rest of the conversation turned argument between his brothers, gulping down the rest of his drink he stood up and bid his goodbyes, only slowing down when Sigurd called out his name. “She heard.”

“What?”

“Lady Y/n, she heard what our idiot brother was saying about her.”

“How-”

“I saw her Ubbe, she looked like she was going to cry. I mean I would too if I was her.”

“Hopefully it’s just the mead talking. Goodnight brother.”

In the three weeks that Lady Y/n and her brother was in Kattegat Hvitserk spent hardly any time with her, Ubbe watched as the brightness of her eyes dim with each day. On her wedding day she hardly smiled and when she did he could tell it was forced, that night he watched as his brother drank more and more then clumsily dragged his new wife towards his bedroom.

Margrethe giggled as she told him that Hvitserk had told her that he called his wife by the former thralls name as he emptied his seed inside her.

She wouldn’t have been giggling as if she had heard the funniest joke if she had known that her own husband was thinking of his brother’s new wife whilst he was inside of her.

He knew it was wrong, he was lucky to have married a woman he loved unlike his brother, he had always thought that Margrethe was beautiful from the moment he laid eyes on her - but Y/n, Y/n’s beauty would have made Freyja herself jealous. Every time he saw her give a genuine smile he wanted more, most preferably aimed at him. Her eyes would light up each time the children of Kattegat would come and speak to her, shyly handing her a flower they had plucked themselves from near the woods or gifting her a nice smooth pebble they had found - it always warmed his heart, unlike his wife’s attitude towards the innocent little ones, always turning her nose up at them and dismissing them as if they were nothing. He wanted nothing more than to be able to call Y/n his wife, to be able to feel her smooth skin under his rough hands - the thought of being able to feel her curves and plumb skin always had his length swell. And most importantly he wanted nothing more to do the very thing that Hvitserk was denying himself of - starting a family.

“Ah! P-Prince Ubbe.” Hearing her startled voice had him snapping out of his memories, shaking his head in confusion he didn’t realise that his feet had led him to his brother and sister in laws cottage. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Blue, normally bright but now dark due to the night sky, eyes noticed the red and purple stains on her apron, a small smile appeared on his lips knowing that she was probably making her infamous cake that he and Ivar loved so much. In her arms held several pieces of chopped wood. “What are you doing?”

“Dropping these off to the neighbour, her husband has died recently and she’s been left with three children, one being a newborn,” lifting the logs higher. “and I chopped way to many this morning so I’m giving them to her.”

Always thoughtful, always generous. He thought to himself. “Here, let me help you.”

“Thank you.” Handing over the logs carefully she turned and picked up a basket. “I have filled it with some food and some clothes I had made for the babe.”

His heart ached in his chest. He knew for fact that she didn’t make those clothes for her neighbours newborn babe, but for her own. Despite hearing Hvitserk’s words that night she thought that maybe the gods would have allowed the seed he had planted in her womb to take place after their wedding night even when he was rough as he took her maidenhood, fucking her as if she meant nothing to him, spilling his seed with another woman’s name falling from his lips - but it never did, but that didn’t stop her from making them, she had hoped that the words she heard from her soon to be husband would have just been that, words, that maybe he would have grown to love her and that they could be happy. Now over a year into their marriage she was only touched once by her husband, she gave up that hope, that dream of having her own children, the basket beside the fireplace that began filling up with baby clothes was left abandoned, just as she was.

“Y/n-”

“It’s fine.” She smiled softly up at him. Guiding him towards the neighbour, Ubbe couldn’t force his wandering eyes away from the sway of her hips, smiling warmly at the neighbour as she profusely thanked Y/n for everything. “Would you like come in?”

He hadn’t even realised that they were back at her cottage. “Yes please.” The warmth of her home she shared with his brother was so different from his own home, how? he couldn’t really explain, maybe it was because she did everything in the home, she no longer had any thralls freeing them after she walked in on Hvitserk having sex with one of them in their marital bed. Or maybe it was the way her home was always so inviting and cosy or maybe it was just because it was her home. But what ever the reason was, he knew that he was happier being in her home than he was at his own cottage that he shared with his wife.

“Would you like something to eat?”

Despite him already having something to eat, his stomach growled, he didn’t even get to finish his meal in the hall. Nodding with a soft smile on his face he looked up at her from the seat he was occupying at the table. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay.” Gently placing the plate in front of him, she grabbed her own and sat down across from him. “It would have gone to waste anyway.”

“You did this for him?”

“Of course, he is my husband.” Dropping her knife and fork she stood up and rushed over to the counter and grabbed the jug full of mead and a cup. “I forgot to offer this for you, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. Now sit and eat, I can fill my own cup.” Pouring his drink his eyebrows pulled together when he noticed that she didn’t have a cup too. “Do you not want a drink?”

“Oh no, thank you though.”

As they ate in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from inside the cottage was the crackling from the fireplace and Ubbe sighing with each bite in satisfaction at the taste of her cooking. “That was delicious Y/n.”

Her cheeks turned red at his compliment. “Thank you.” Standing up once more, she took his plate and hers away from the table.

“You haven’t finish your food?”

“It is fine, I’m not hungry anymore.” He nodded though he was skeptical. “He isn’t coming back tonight, is he?”

Gulping down the rest of his drink, he tried to think of something to say. “I-I’m not sure.”

“He probably won’t.” She shrugged as she washed the plates. “He only comes back when he needs clean clothes, leaving me with his dirty ones that I have to clean and sow.”

There was no malice in her voice as she spoke, to him it sounded as she had just given up. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about prince Ubbe.”

“He is my brother, I have to apologise for his behaviour and actions towards you and your marriage.”

“He’s not bad.” She sighed as he pulled a face. “He doesn’t hit me, he doesn’t force me to lay with him, he gives me enough coin for each month, so no, he isn’t a bad husband.”

“Just because he doesn’t hit you or rape you doesn’t make him a good husband, he’s left you alone whilst he chases after other women.”

“Your wife being one of them.” She says softly. “He is happy, that’s all that matters.”

It was his turn to sigh, he couldn’t argue with her, but he truly thought that after his brother married that the agreement of sharing Margrethe would have come to an end. “And what of your happiness?”

“It does not matter.”

“Yes it does.”

“I am happy.” It was a lie, she knew that and so did he. “I would like you to leave now please, I’m tired.” Another lie but she didn’t want to keep having this conversation.

“Very well, goodnight princess.”

Three months later Ubbe spent most of his time with Y/n, helping her with everything ranging from: chopping wood, hunting, cooking, cleaning and she had even taught him how to correctly sow. He truly enjoyed every second he spent with her - even when she did laugh at him when he somehow managed to trip over the broom he was using to sweep up.

He loved just sitting in front of the fireplace with her and talk about everything and anything, he learned so much about her - things that he doubted his brother even knew. His muscles would finally relax whenever he was with her, she became a home to him, he was able to be himself and talk about his dreams of being a simple farmer - he remembered the time he told Margrethe about his dream, she just laughed at him, but not Y/n, no she smiled softly at him and told him that he would be an amazing farmer with so many cute animals.

It was easy being with Y/n, it was easy for him to fall in love with her.

The brothers had decided to go into the woods where they could practice, Ubbe listened as Ivar and Sigurd argued about whose arrow had hit the target in the eye - both claiming it was their own, when only one was correct and of course it was Ivars but he kept quiet. His bright blue eyes searched for Hvitserk, rolling them when he found him, he was kissing a woman who Ubbe had never seen before.

The youngest two of them pulled a face when Hvitserk came jogging up to them. “I’m going to the cabin.” Without waiting for a response he jogged back over to the woman and took her by the hand and lead them away towards where the cabin sat.

“I’m going to go.” Ubbe said interrupting his two brothers who carried on their argument. “And Sigurd it was Ivars.”

The blond groaned whilst the youngest laughed. “Are you going to see Y/n?”

“What?” Ivar just smirked at him. “How do you know?”

“I know everything brother.” Tapping the side of his head. “And plus you brought me a slice of cake, knowing I only like the ones that Y/n makes.”

“Don’t say anything.” Ubbe pointed to his brothers. “It’s nothing, okay? I’m just spending time with her because she’s lonely.”

“And because you love her.” Sigurd laughed whilst Ivar nodded in agreement. “I think this will be the only time that me and the cripple will ever agree on anything, but we promise not to say anything.”

“Yes, snakey here is right. You deserve to be happy Ubbe.”

Ubbe couldn’t believe what he was hearing honestly, all four of them would argue and even fight with each other but Ivar and Sigurd, never ever got on, never really had anything nice to say about the other. Y/n wasn’t going to believe him when he told her. “You won’t tell Hvitserk?”

“Why would we tell him? He’s been a terrible husband to her.”

“Right. Okay, well I’m going to go, please don’t kill each other whilst I’m gone.”

Plucking a flower from the ground he held it carefully in his hand as he made his way towards the cottage, with a smile on his face he knocked twice on the wooden door. His eyebrows pulled together with worry and confusion as she had yet to answer, he only relaxed when he heard her sweet voice. “Hi-” he cut himself off as her face came into view. Her pretty face was bruised. A cut on her cheek and across her chin. Her left eye slightly swollen. And when he looked down his fists clenched even tighter, a dark bruise was covering her neck. “Who did this?”

“I-it doesn’t matter.” Her voice hoarse and not soft like it always is.

“Who, Y/n?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Gently pushing her back so he could step inside, he kicked the door shut behind him. From the corner of his eye he caught the sight of her table on its side and several chairs had been destroyed, her things had been thrown around the room - his heart clenched when he saw the small jewellery box that her father had made for her a few months before he passed away, on the floor and broken. “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Hvitserk?”

“No! No it wasn’t him.” Sitting down on the only chair that hadn’t been broken, she sighed. “A man, he knocked on the door last night and I thought it was you, bu-but it wasn’t. Anyway he was angry because the woman he was supposed to marry was caught in the barn with Hvitserk, he said he doesn’t want to marry the prince’s whore.”

“What is his name?”

“I don’t know and that’s the truth.”

“What about her name?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “He has loads of women so it could be anyone.”

It was his brother’s fault. It was all Hvitserk’s fault. If he had just been faithful to his wife then a man wouldn’t have taken his anger out on sweet, kind, beautiful Y/n. She didn’t deserve it, she didn’t deserve a husband as cowardly as the one she got, she didn’t deserve to have her delicate skin damaged by a man who was angry, she didn’t deserve this man’s anger since it was aimed at the wrong person. She deserved better, a better life, a better husband. She deserved nothing but love, respect, happiness and devotion.

Ubbe wanted nothing more than to run up to the cabin where Hvitserk was currently fucking a woman that wasn’t his wife and beat some sense into him, then he would find the man who dared to put his dirty hands on his Y/n and make sure that this man didn’t have a seat at Odin’s table.

But then he looked down at her where she still sat on the chair, nervously twisting a bit of her dress in her hands. His brother and unknown man was going to have to wait for his anger. “Let me clean your wounds, okay?”

“You don’t-”

“I know.” Leaning down he pressed a kiss to her forehead and gathered everything he needed. Slowly and gently he cleaned the cuts on her cheek and chin, as he concentrated he could feel her eyes on him which caused his cheeks to tint red.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up.”

“I can do that.”

“I know you can but I’m here.” Putting down the broom he was using he gently pushed her to sit back down on the chair. “Just sit and relax.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He smiled softly at her before continuing his work, gently scolding her every time she tried to help and he even refused her help with turning the table on all fours. When he was finished he looked around the cottage and hated how much emptier it now seemed without her trinkets and jars. “I promise I’ll get you some new chairs and some new jars, oh I saw a really nice one yesterday on the market - I’ll go and see if it’s still there tomorrow.”

Cutting his rambling off. “You don’t need to do that Ubbe.”

“I know-”

“I know you know but it is not your responsibility to take care of this.”

“You’re right, it’s Hvitserks but do you really think he would?”

“No.” She sighed softly. “No he wouldn’t but it isn’t his responsibility either, it’s mine.”

His thin eyebrows pulled together and downwards as his face scrunched up in disgust. “You really think that? You are his wife! This is his home, he should be here taking care of you and not-”

“With another woman?” She cut him off. “He does not care for me, Ubbe. The only reason why that man didn’t kill me last night was because I begged him, I begged him to kill me, I begged and begged and unfortunately he didn’t.”

Taking a step back from her as if she had burnt him, the blue in his eyes went brighter due to the tears that wanted to fall. “W-what? Why? Why would you beg such a thing?”

“So I can be free, so that Hvitserk will be free. With me gone he’d be able to marry someone he truly loves, someone worthy of his time and love.” Stepping closer to him she slowly raised her hand to cup his face. “All I have ever wanted was to be loved, to be respected, to be able to share my life with someone but that won’t happen in this life and I’ve accepted that.”

“And that’s your reason to want to die? To leave me?” One of his hands went to her waist as the other held her hand that was still resting on his face. “My brother is a fool, but so am I. I thought I married someone for love but I didn’t know what love was until I met you. You don’t need to accept being lonely or being unloved because I’m here, I’m here to be by your side, I’m here to love you until my time comes and even then I will still love you.”

Tears streamed down her face freely as he spoke, through blurred vision she searched his eyes for any indication of him being untruthful with his words when she didn’t find any she did something that shocked not only herself but the man in front of her. She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Her cheeks went bright red with embarrassment because just like Hvitserk on their wedding day, Ubbe didn’t kiss her back. “I-I’m s-sorry.” She stuttered in a whisper, feeling like the biggest idiot ever she began to pull away from him, frowning slightly when she realised that he wasn’t letting her go. Before she could say anything Ubbe smiled softly then he kissed her, it was slow at first which she was grateful for as this was the second time she had kissed someone but as it turned more heated she happily followed his lead.

He smiled to himself when he felt her hands beginning to tug on his clothes, he was more than happy to comply with her unspoken wishes and stood proudly before her naked as the day as he was born. Laying her down gently on the softest of furs in front of the lit fireplace, he couldn’t tear his lips away from hers as his hands roamed her frame - when he finally removed her dress off his eyes turned even darker with lust, with admiration, with love. Moving ever so slowly down her naked body he left a trail of wet kisses, repeating his actions when he thought he had left a spot untouched by his lips, licking his lips he locked eyes with hers as he began devouring her just like the meaning of his name, he was truly a wolf as her limbs became weak and floppy. He couldn’t wait no longer, he needed to feel her around him, kissing her passionately, he smiled softly at her, never have I ever seen more of a beautiful sight he thought to himself as he began pushing his hardness into her, both sighing in content at the feeling of them joining as one.

Keeping himself buried deep inside her as they came down from their peaks praises of how well she did and how amazing she is fell from his lips in between kissing every inch of her face. A shocked gasp came from her when he picked her body up from off the ground he promised her that she was fine, carrying her in his arms he walked the both of them into her bedroom where he placed her gently on the bed that she shared with his brother. Her scent filled his senses as he slid into the comfy bed, no traces of his brother was present as his wrapped his arms around her, he fell asleep not long after she did, falling asleep before whispering I love you into her braided hair, falling asleep happily with her wrapped up in his strong arms.

For a whole two weeks none of Ubbes family saw him and Margrethe hadn’t even realised as she was too busy with Hvitserk. And what Ubbe didn’t know was that Ivar and Sigurd were actually covering for him whenever Aslaug questioned his whereabouts.

But unfortunately the boys were running out of excuses, so they made their way towards Y/n’s cottage. “Knock then.”

“No you do it.”

“I’m a cripple!”

“And that means that you can’t knock on a door?”

“Yes.”

“It’s your legs that don’t work, not your arms.” Sigurd huffed as his brother smiled up at him sarcastically. “Fine.”

Neither one of them realising that Ubbe and Y/n were struggling to hold back their laughter behind the door at hearing the brothers little argument. Opening the door just as Sigurd was about to knock Ubbe cocked his head to the side. “What can we do for you two?”

“Mother keeps asking for you and we are now running out of excuses.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, we haven’t told anyone where you have been really.”

“Thanks.” Facing Y/n he cupped her face gently. “Are you ready?”

In all the time Sigurd and Ivar had known Y/n they had never seen her have a genuine smile on her face, but they see it as she looks up at their older brother. “I’m ready.”

Ivar looked up at Sigurd giving him a questioning look, the blond shrugged and asked. “What’s going on?”

“I’m going to ask mother to grant me and Y/n a divorce from Margrethe and Hvitserk.” Tucking in a piece of hair behind Y/n’s ear, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And then we will get married.”

Sigurd smiled. “I’m sure she will.”

“And I’m sure the thrall and the fool will be angry.” Ivar smiled.

All four of them made their way towards the great hall, Ubbes hand gently holding Y/n’s, squeezing softly when he felt her tense up as they got closer to the building. Aslaug was sat upon her throne, squinting slightly when she saw the two holding hands, a subtle grin on her lips. “Sons, Y/n.”

“Mother.” As Ubbe took a step forward towards his mother Hvitserk and Margrethe came around the corner, the prince with his arm around the former thralls waist, both giggling. “Queen Aslaug I’m here to ask you to grant me a divorce from my wife.”

That got the pair to stop giggling. Hvitserks arm slipping slowly from Margrethe’s waist.

“What?” The blonde woman stuttered.

Aslaug nodded, not letting Ubbe answer. “Divorce granted.”

“Thank you.”

“You can’t do this!” Margrethe shouted. “On what grounds? Y-you need a reason!”

“He is a prince, he doesn’t need a reason.” Aslaug responded. “I assume you wish for a divorce too, Y/n.”

She could feel Hvitserks green eyes burning the side of her face, she tried to ignore it as best as she could as she took a deep breath. “Yes please.”

“Divorce granted.”

“No! No she’s my wife!” Y/n flinched at his shouting causing Ubbe and Sigurd to stand protectively in front of her. “Mother you can’t do this, she’s my wife.”

Ubbe went to speak but Aslaug held her hand up to silence him, standing up she made her way down the steps and stood in front of her second son. “Your wife? I have seen the way you have treated her, I have heard the whispers about the countless of women who you have decided to spend your time with.” Cupping his face in her hands. “She should never have been your wife Hvitserk.”

“But-”

“No. No buts. You never deserved her.” Walking up to Ubbe and Y/n, she smiled warmly. “He does, and he will be a better husband to her than you ever was and they will have the life they have always wanted.” Her grey-blue eyes went to Y/n’s stomach, a warm smile on her lips. Aslaug knew, she knew because she had a dream, a dream of her oldest son and his wife living on a farm surrounded by animals that Y/n had named even against Ubbes advice not to, her daughter in law was heavily pregnant and her son couldn’t take his hands off of her. She had never seen her son so happy before. When Aslaug woke up she was confused because she didn’t know the woman in her dream, not until a few hours later when the ship carrying the woman Hvitserk was to marry pulled up to the docks.

“But she’s mine!” Her second son shouted.

“If she was truly yours then you would have looked after her better.” She remarked. “Ubbe, Y/n you both have my blessing to marry.”

“Thank you mother.”

A month later the two got married, Hvitserk refused to show up to the wedding whilst Margrethe was held back by the queens guards. Two days before the wedding Y/n found out that she was with child when she told Ubbe, he fell to his knees and pressed several kisses to her covered stomach, promises falling from his lips of how he was going to love the babe and protect them no matter what. Aslaug had a knowing smile on her face before they even had the chance to tell her.

Hvitserk was beyond angry when he found out that Y/n was pregnant, to him she had betrayed him, and he wanted justice. Showing up at the cottage he was given by his mother as a wedding gift he was shocked to find the place completely empty. “She’s not here.” He practically jumped out of his skin at hearing a voice behind him.

“Where is she?”

“With her husband.”

“I’m her husband.” Turning around he saw Ivar sitting upon an empty crate. “She’s my wife and yet I don’t see her anywhere, do you?”

“Ah but you’re not her husband anymore, are you? No, our big brother is.”

“She belongs to me!”

“Nope, not anymore she doesn’t.”

“Where are they?”

“Did you know that Ubbe killed the man who attacked Y/n?” Ivar asked instead. “You probably didn’t, me and Sigurd was there and I do have to say that Ubbe didn’t go easy on the guy.”

Frowning and shaking his head. “What are you talking about?”

“See you later.”

“Wait, where are you going? You didn’t tell me what happened.”

“I’m going?” Ivar laughed. “Did you not hear me?”

“Ivar stop playing games! What happened to Y/n?”

“When?”

“Don’t-”

“She was attacked.”

“What? When? Who did it?”

Ivar laughed again. “Don’t act like you actually care because you never did before. It happened when you were busy fucking another woman. It was done by a guy who caught you and his fiancé fucking in a barn.”

“I-I-”

“I-I-I don’t want to hear it and neither would Y/n and Ubbe.” Settling himself onto the ground Ivar looked up at his brother. “Whatever the reason you had when you came here just leave them alone Hvitserk. You had your chance and lost it because you couldn’t keep it in your trousers.”

Hvitserk went inside the cottage that Y/n had made a home for the two of them and the children he swore he would never give her, sitting down on the cold wooden flooring, he pulled his knees up to his chest and cried. The reality and realisation of what he once had and what he had lost had finally caught up to him.

“Ubbe!”

“Yes my love?”

“Lady Penelope has given birth!”

Walking over to where Y/n was resting against the fence, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her shoulder. “Twelve piglets, not bad.”

“She did so well.”

A few days after Ubbe and Y/n was married, they moved to the farm house that had been abandoned for a couple of years, after several weeks of fixing up the house with the help of Sigurd and Ivar - it became a warm and welcoming home.

Hvitserk came to visit once, he apologised to Y/n for the way he treated her during their marriage and gave her and Ubbe his blessing for them to marry - which left Ubbe unable to control his laughter seen as though they were already married and he didn’t need his brothers so called blessing.

Aslaug watched from her spot on the bench with Sigurd sitting next to her and Ivar sitting on the floor as Ubbe kept his hand on Y/n’s back, from where she was sat she couldn’t hear what the two were saying but she could see genuine smiles and hear their laughter. Looking down at Aesir who was using Ivar as a climbing frame she smiled softly. “I think he likes you.”

“Of course he does, I’m his favourite.” Ivar chuckled. “Aren’t I Aesir?” The two year old just giggled and put his little hand into Ivars mouth.

“I’m going to be the next ones favourite.” Sigurd commented. “It shouldn’t be long now before the babe comes.” Aslaug sighed and blocked out the bickering between her two sons, and kept watching Ubbe and Y/n.

Ubbe placed his hands on his wife’s large bump, absolutely loving the feeling of their child move around, pressing his forehead against hers. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hvitserk was a fool who lost the best thing he would ever have, and for that Ubbe was forever thankful.

Then there was a whoosh of leaves. Ubbe was ready to pull his dagger out when the rabbit ran out from behind a tree, straight across from where he sat. Ubbe almost laughed at himself, but his smile fell when the arrow hit the rabbit.

He hadn’t even seen the bow that fired it, but he was on his feet. “Who’s there?”

“Shh,” a voice hushed him from the trees.

Ubbe whipped around, looking to see where it had come from, but the voice seemed to mix with the wind. He turned and saw a deer, standing still, eyes dancing with fear.

Then the next arrow came. The deer hit the ground before it could run. Ubbe pulled the dagger from his belt just as a person walked out from amongst the trees. you were holding a bow out in front of them, their spare hand in the air empty. “I didn’t mean to startle you,”  

The cloak you were wearing was a mix of dark greens and blacks. With your hood up and a black fabric wrapped across the lower half of your face it was no wonder he hadn’t seen you.

“Put the bow down,” Usually he figured himself a good one on one fighter, but he didn’t need to see what else you could do with a bow. You threw it forward, dropping it at his feet before reaching up to pull the fabric around your face down.

What he really hadn’t expected was to find you so attractive. Now he could see you it was clear to him how beautiful you were as you lowered your hood. But there was something else, “You look familiar,”

“I live in Kattegat. Perhaps you have seen me around now,” you said, walking towards the rabbit near his feet, “Would you mind putting your own weapon down?”

Ubbe could feel his cheeks heat up when he realised, he was still in a protective stance. He quickly stashed the dagger back in his belt. he watched as you picked it up and took out the arrow before tossing it into a bag on your side. “Quite the hunter I see,” he said, nodding towards the full bag by your side.

“Someone has to do it,” you said as you walked to the deer and crouched down.

Ubbe followed you over, grabbing your bow so it didn’t get lost. “You don’t enjoy it?”

You paused for a moment, “I enjoy the quiet. Being alone. Being able to not have to think. I don’t enjoy killing them,”

It was an odd thing for Ubbe to hear. Everyone in his family seemed to enjoy killing and hated the idea of quiet. “Sorry if I ruined your peace,”

“Nah,” you grinned up at him, a quality he founded oddly endearing, “I’ll forgive you if you help me carry this back,”

Ubbe grinned right back at you, “You drive a hard bargain,” he said as he crouched down across from you. “I never got your name,”

“You never asked,”

“I’m Ubbe,”

“(Y/N),”

-

The next day Ubbe went on another walk to the same spot, sat on the same fallen tree, and waited. It was on his walk back he realised how foolish he was. Of course, you would not be in the same spot twice. But how else was he to find you?  When you arrived back to Kattegat last night a man you claimed as your brother saw you and took over for Ubbe to carry it home since the sun was long gone.

Still Ubbe went back each day just encase. He enjoyed the quiet of it all. He found himself able to relax for the first time in a while as he sat on that tree. it had been a week since he had saw you, so he almost didn’t recognise you at the market.

Your hair wasn’t braided back out of your face. It was left mostly loose with small braids throughout. Your dress was red and would never be able to blend with the trees. But one thing was the same.

“Ubbe,” you grinned, that same smile as before. You greeted him as he walked up to your stall at the market. It was mainly animal skins and pelts with a few other items scattered around.

“I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” he said, chuckling to try make it sound like a joke, but the thought had crossed his mind, “You’re a hard person to track down,”

A smirk tugged at your lips, “I try. Anything take your fancy?” you asked.

Ubbe looked over the table, wondering how many nights it took you to gather these all. One caught his eye in particular, “Is that our deer?” he asked, pointing to the skin.

“Our deer? If I remember correctly my arrow killed it,”

“I helped you carry it back,” he countered, “Don’t I at least get a discount for that?” he teased as he leaned over the table. You pretended to think about it before shaking your head.

“Ten silver for the pelt,” you told him. Ubbe went to reach for his money, but you continued, “Or eight if you help me hunt tonight,”

“Ah so I did help?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, “Not even slightly. But the company was not bad,”

Ubbe shook his head at you, grinning like a fool as he pulled out the silver, “eight it is,”

“Meet me where we met?” you offered as Ubbe rolled up the deer hide.

“You mean where you almost killed me?”

“Honey if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead,”

-

There was no reason for Ubbe to feel so nervous as he sat and waited. You told him you’d meet him after supper, but time was marching on. Maybe he was in the wrong spot? Or maybe he was too early or-

“Boo,” you said, leaning down next to his ear.

“What the fuck!” Ubbe screamed, jumping up off the log as you began to cackle. His shoulders relaxed when he saw it was you, but he still was panting out of breath, “Don’t do that,”

“Did you not hear me?”

“Clearly not!”

“Alright I’m sorry,” you laughed, stepping over the log to sit on it.

Ubbe finally regained himself before turning to you with a confused look. “Where’s your bow?”

“Eh, thought I’d give myself the night off,” you said before looking between him and the tree log, “You wanna sit?”

“So how come you wanted to meet me?” he asked, moving to sit beside you.

The way his blue eyes bore into you with such confusion and hope made it hard to look back at them. “Don’t know really. Just thought it would be nice. The quiet you know?”

“You invited me to come sit in silence with you?” he asked, an eyebrow raised and a smile on his lips.

You felt yourself becoming unexplainably shy under his gaze, “We don’t have to be silent the whole time,”

“It’s alright,” he said, settling into his seat, “We can just sit for a while,”

So, you did. For a good hour you sat silently beside each other, at some point moving to rest your head on his shoulder and his on your head, just enjoying each other’s company. After a while though you began to make small talk.

The small talk did not last for very long though. You moved from topics of how many siblings to venting to each other. You told him about how much you hated hunting, how you only did it to survive, how you’d rather farm instead. He told you about his brothers, how loud they were, how aggressive they were, how much he longed for a quiet evening.

“I love them, I do I just- “

“Don’t like them sometimes? I get that,” you said, turning to face him, a task that was far less daunting now.

Ubbe turned away though, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “I shouldn’t be putting this on you,”

“I don’t mind,” you said, leaning forward to force him to look at you, a small smile on your lips, “Sometimes its nice just to talk,”

“I’ve never been good at it. the whole talking thing. Its easier to just accept things. it’s not like they’ll change,”

“You never know. Besides,” you said nudging his knee with your own, “I like when you talk. It’s good to talk about these things. honestly until this tonight I think I was slowly losing my mind,” you laughed.

Ubbe chuckled as well, “I get that. trust me,” he paused as he looked into your eyes. You were both silent again, a smile on both your lips.

“I should probably go back soon,” your words made his heart drop, but he did his best to conceal it, “Will you meet me again tomorrow?” and just as quickly it fluttered again.

“I’d love to,”

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To be honest, that first meeting was a little tense, both groups expecting attacks. It was until the little girl pulled the old man's facial hair that everyone laughed and ate. You could barely take your eyes off Ubbe. Not that he was doing a better job at concealing his interest in you. After they left, your mother chastised you. She wanted you to be friendly with them, but to be careful.

The second meeting went smoother. Their people invited you back to their camp and showed you around. You sat with your sister-in-law, Nikani, and a woman named Torvi, while you braided your hair. Torvi appraised you once you finished, though the result was a poor attempt to duplicate her hairstyle. On the other side of the camp, you saw your brothers Peminuit and We'jitu have an aim contest with Ubbe and the other men. Shortly after that, Ubbe sat with you by the fire. He wanted to tell you something, but just like you, he did not know how to express himself without words. Yet, he was stubborn. He looked you in the eyes and murmured, “du er vakker.” You smiled, although you had no idea what he meant. However, it was like no words were necessary to express each other’s feelings because, after that, he rarely parted from you. That evening, you took his people to Floki’s house.

Slowly, you learned the way of his people and he learned yours. You would dry fur for him to wear and sew beads for necklaces. He accepted all of your gifts happily and returned some. He gave you meat he hunted and a beautiful fluffy fur he brought along with him. Languages were exchanged, and you began to understand better what he said. One of those times, when Torvi was teaching you a few words, you asked what ‘vakker’ meant. Knowingly, she responded that it was ‘beautiful’. You blushed, remembering all the times Ubbe had called you that. Even so, the relationships between tribes were still fragile when one of them killed your brother We'jitu. Your family was devastated. For a moment, you thought everything accomplished would be lost. That you would have to forget about Ubbe and whatever blossoming relationship you had. Luckily, Pekitaulet was wise and wanted no war. She granted the foreigners a chance to redeem the loss. But even when they killed the murderer, everything remained tense. During the punishment and funeral, you were not able to look at Ubbe in the eyes. You were too lost in grief. And even after that, it took a while for things to settle down, for you to spend time with him again. Once you did, though, you realized him coming here was destined.

“Are you still up here?” a voice calls you softly from behind. You glance back, your husband is making his way towards you. His blue eyes shine bright in the sun. He smiles charmingly. “I thought Pekitaulet told you to be careful and not to climb the cliff for a while.”

Your guilty laugh echoes through the abyss, “I’m feeling much better now, don’t worry. Why don’t you sit beside me for a bit?” Ubbe hums but does as requested. Once settled, he takes you in his arms in a gentle embrace, placing you between his thighs.

It took more than you would have liked to learn the Norse tongue. In fact, Ubbe learned faster your language. Nevertheless, that was no barrier for your love to thrive. Steadily, the two of you became closer. You would often exchange lingering gazes, smiles, and soft touches. Everyone could see the love blossoming between the Viking and you. Soon, he asked your mother for your hand in marriage. Despite past events with his people that lead to the death of We'jitu, Pekitaulet recognized that Ubbe was a good man. She blessed the union and you became one heart.

“So,” Ubbe murmurs into your hair. He places a sweet kiss in your temple and continues, “are you going to tell me what are you doing up here?”

A few days ago, you started to feel lightheaded while in the woods. You took a nasty fall because of it, managing to injure your ankle. The healer warned you about going out until it was healed. She was about to leave when your mother requested to know the cause of your dizziness. It was no surprise what the healer responded. In fact, it was more than welcomed news. You have not told Ubbe yet. As far as he is concerned, your ankle has not healed yet.

“I just wanted to see the sundown, it is a beautiful time of the day, is it not?” You respond, gazing lovingly into your husband’s eyes.

He stares back and smiles at you. “You are beautiful.” You blush, making his smirk grow wider. He inclines and captures your lips in a small kiss. “Tell me what is it, wife of mine,” he says once he parts from you, “I know you now well enough to notice that there is something you are keeping from me. And it is not the beauty of the sundown.”

You exhale, well, it seems like you won’t be able to keep it a secret much longer. The only ones that know so far are your mother, Nikani, and Torvi (whom you befriended). You place your hand on his, softly tailing his wrist tattoos. “First, I would like to ask you something that I never had the chance to do before.” He regards you curiously, but nods. “The first time that you saw me, it was not in my camp, was it?”

Ubbe looks away sheepishly. “No. I saw you first in the woods.” He seems embarrassed, “I know you saw me too, we locked gazes.”

“Then why you say nothing to your people?” You ask.

A faint blush colors Ubbe’s cheekbones as he responds, “We had just landed, we were thirsty, and there you were, in the middle of greenery nature, all gorgeous, like a true goddess.” He peers back at you, and confidently admits, “I thought I was seeing things, losing my mind.” The hand that is not encased by yours lifts and caresses your jaw. “When I saw you again at the camp and I realized you were real…” He leaves the sentence incomplete, but you know what he means. You know too well, after all, you felt it the first time you saw him.

A weight lifts from your chest when you see him jumping off the boat. When you see the warm smile he gives his people, the happy waves, and the comforting pats on the shoulder. The looming threat that he might not return retreats, it feels like you can breathe again. You long to welcome it.

The morning was crisp and cold. Snow painted the village white, a scene that seemed designed by the Gods, they ought to have carved each millimetric detail to assure it would measure up to the perfection you contemplated before your eyes. No drunk wanderers, no playing children. An eerie quietness that brings comfort.

Ubbe had been away for more moons than you could bear to count. The heaviness of the unknown sat on your chest like a child, your eager eyes on the pier. You were hopeful today would be the day you would see the boats coming back home. You would see him lead his men back to the peace of their secluded home.

The waves were calm, and there was no indication of an upcoming return. It left you crestfallen. His nonreturn meant another night wrapped up in sheets that did not warm you enough.

Your marriage had soon come to be when he was forced to go away, torn from your arms. Long were the twilights you spent together, or the early mornings, tangled in bed. Those faded into the emptiness of a vacant home. Hvitserk had gone with him, so did Ivar. You felt even more alone without the boys to keep you company.

Of course, if you pushed yourself enough, you could recall the prickle of his beard on your neck. You could recall the sound of his laugh, and his rough hands on your hips, pulling you closer for a kiss. You feel his breath on your cheek, or the words he’d say when he made you his.

As long as Ubbe was gone, half of you was away with him. Half your heart was away with him.

The narrow path towards the woods was pebbled. It made a sinuous way to a hidden paradise, a comforting clearing at the heart of the forest. Ubbe had taken you there, back when it was summer, and flowers bloomed. He splayed you on the ground, peppered kisses on your face, made love to you. That place became a link to him, as it was obvious, you’d go there every day. Every crevice of Kattegat screamed his name, but on that frozen ground, you thought, it might be silly of you to do so, that he could feel you pulling him home.

Grey clouds hovered above you, threatening to rain. You stayed there for what seemed an eternity, watching as the soft breeze moved them away. It’d been days since the sun had seeped through the thick layer of the skies. Thor must be in a bad mood, hammering Mjöllnir. Thunder cracked, lightning brightening the sky.

You wanted to stay where you were, let the rain wash your body, but you mustn’t get sick. All strength was necessary for when he comes back, to care for him, to be the pillar he needs to lean on.

The Gods hadn’t blessed you with a child yet. Before Ubbe left, you’d laid together one last time, a fond memory that painted your sweeter dreams. When you didn’t bleed the next month, you were swelled with hope. However, that soon deflated when you stripped down to bathe, and you found the crimson stains on your inner thighs. You wanted to welcome him home with a proud belly, a kicking baby inside of you, instead, he’d meet you empty. A barren land.

Tears trickled down. You missed him more than anyone could understand. More than you could understand yourself.

On the way home, rain began to pour, soaking through the emerald hunter green gown you wore. The people watched you run, and there was no need to look back to know they pitied you. You hated it.

Your body shook when you got inside your house. It was much warmer. The thralls must’ve fed the fireplace with new logs, bright orange flames creating a warmth that spread like a lazy lion. You reached back to undo the laces of your drenched gown, calling out for a maid to help you. The intricate knots that kept your bodice in place were impossible to be undone alone. A groan in frustration slipped past your lips as you gave up, going over to the kitchen, someone must be in the working of your supper.

The table was set, plates and cutlery pristine. Steaming food centred, they mustn't have left too long ago. Regardless, Hilda couldn’t leave. She knew you’d need her. Not a single day had gone by that she had left your home. A dread settled at the pit of your stomach, as your mind swirled around what could’ve happened. All of it seemed abnormal.

“Hilda?” You tried calling out for her, heading towards your bedroom. “Hilda, this is not funny. Where are you?”

The door was ajar, and your blood ran cold. Someone was in there.

You grabbed the golden dagger that was sheathed under your skirt. The metal felt cold under your fingertips as you held it up, going over to where the intruder would be. It was a small precaution, up until now, useless, as you had never used it against anyone. No one would dare to harm a single thread of hair in your head, they all feared the wrath of a protective husband. Your protective husband, in particular. Ubbe was contained, more than his brothers. However, it all changes when the people he cares about are endangered. He becomes a beast. A wild wolf that will slash, and chew on flesh until it is satisfied.

A surprised gasp leaves your lips when you find him on your bed, a distraught look on the clear blue eyes. He’s sitting on the foot of the bed. There’s dirt smeared on his face, old dried traces of blood. New wounds. New scars. You wondered what else could be concealed under his armour, which he still bore, although the sword he carries on his waist is dropped on the ground. Forgotten, almost. The dagger given to you by him joins it with a reverberating clang of metal against wood. Ubbe tears his gaze from the unknown point to look up at you. No smile grows on his face, but he opens his arms. It’s a silent request for comfort.

He wraps them around you when you’re near enough, resting his head on your stomach, unbothered by the wetness that clung to his face. You remain silent. A comforting silence. You spent the entire day wondering when he’d be home, now here he was, curled up into you, seeking care like a lost child. At the sight, you could swear your heart broke.

The pouring rain outside is merciless, spattering on the windows. The wind blows like a bad omen. Part of you wonders if this is not a dream. The thought aches. To even think you’d wake up soon, and he’d vanish, that you wouldn’t be able to hold him. Hug him. Kiss him. You lean forwards to do so, lifting his chin, blue all you could see for days, then pressing your lips to his in a feverish whim.

Ubbe cups both of your cheeks, foreheads glued together. An exchange that made words useless. It was true. You’d reached such a state that sometimes a click of the tongue was enough to understand what was happening inside each other’s minds. You kiss him again. And again.

“Missed you,” He says after you’re settled on his lap. A sopping mess staining the white linen sheets. He’s nosing the crook of your neck. “What happened to you?”

“Got caught by the rain, I can’t get out of this on my own. Hilda seems to be gone…”

His chuckle sends tiny shocks down to your very tiptoe, arms clasped around your waistline, pulling you even closer. A little sound slips past your lips, and you throw your head back. He undoes the laces that tie the front of your dress, exposing just a fraction of the skin under. It was all wet.

Each of his hands grabs the underside of your thighs, lifting you as he stands up himself, painting a lingering kiss to your bottom lip. A groan comes out, the primal animal resting in his bones, but, instead of taking you right then, right there, he lets your body slide, water soaking through his navy blue tunic.

Ubbe’s touch burns when he spins you around. It feels like he’s playing with you as a girl plays with her dollies. The tight that kept your spine upright got looser as he worked the knots, with a grace that a man like him was excused to have. Your bodice fell to the ground, his deft hands kept on exploring the expanse of your back, undoing the delicate buttons, inch by inch revealing the skin beneath.

Your every single nerve was alight, aware.

He palmed your back, spreading the gown further open, and it slid down your body, pooling around your feet. You didn’t dare to turn back, no, you just stood there, frozen in place. His eyes were glued to your body, attuned to the littlest movement you could make, marvelling at the creases, at the moles, at the soft indentation. Not a single night would go by that he wouldn’t wonder how he got so lucky.

At last, you are forced to look at him. The intensity of burning heat on his eyes, those godforsaken eyes, strike you. Your knees wobble, you’re lucky he’s there to hold you, to keep you up. A column that sustains, a force that feeds the hunger gnawing your insides. He’s a gift you can’t believe the gods gave you.

The tip of his index finger traces a line down to your belly button. It leaves behind goosebumps.

“You’re not with child,” Ubbe says, low.

“No,” It comes out in a sad whimper. You knew he’d be disappointed to come back to a fruitless home. “I’m sorry, husband.”

He grunts, “I’ll just have to try harder.”

It knocks the breath out of your lungs, and you cling to him. His arms are welcoming, they fit around you like a perfect shoe.

The thunderstorm outside chimes again, wind billowing. You hoped before Hilda left, she prepared a bath with warm water. As the months grew colder, it was no longer possible to swim in the nearby river, nor the pretty little pond just behind your house.

You start to undress him, unfastening the leather belt around his waist. Ubbe watches with attention while you go on to shed him of his layers, each piece being dropped to the floor. The tunic, the cloak, the breeches. All stripped away, a mess that would make the cleaning thralls mad.

He’s a sight for sore eyes. All broad shoulders, strong arms, and carved muscles. He looked more massive, dwarfing you. Your hands trail up his chest, though your eyes remain on his tummy, observing as it goes up and down with his even breathing. There’s soothing beneath this soft touch, to feel the warmth of him flood the pads of your fingers that strayed further up, settling on the curve of his neck. It’s taut, tense with stress. You don’t know what happened, why he’s not in a festive mood. He would’ve been with his brothers, high on ale, laughing, his happiness spreading fast across the room. Being alone is not something he does out of his own volition.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, that had grown rounder with the richer food of Kattegat. Your body had become different in the few months he was away. It was softer. Part of you wondered if he’d think less of you. If he’d want you less. Your worries are soon washed away as he tips his head to kiss you again, a deep groan that ignites a fire.

“You are far more beautiful than Freya herself, my sweetness,” Ubbe whispers, pressing his lips to your left temple. “I cannot put into words how much I have missed you.”

Your eyes gleam with tears.

“Come, let me bathe you,” You end up saying, your hand lost on his bigger one. It’s rough from handling iron weapons and fist-fighting his enemies, but when he touches you, it’s gentle, it feels like he’s wearing petal-made gloves.

Ubbe trails after you, a puppy following its mother’s steps, to the secluded room, where a large wooden bath blows up steam from overheated water. So Hilda did leave you covered. A smile grows on your lips, and you walk forward, stepping inside first, motioning for him to follow suit. It spills when you are both settled, he sits back, resting up against the wooden surface, and you’re on your knees, between his spread open legs.

White linen rags dangle from the tub’s corner, and you grab one, soaking it. His eyes are locked on you, on the smallest splash of water when you move around, dragging the cloth across his skin, wiping away all the dirt, the blood. He swears his world stops spinning when you’re near him. He can’t allow you to go with him, because he wants you to be safe, yes, but also because he wouldn’t be able to focus. Everything else becomes old dust, a hazed, faded memory if he can watch you.

Bit by bit, you wash him clean. The wounds don’t seem so angry, nor scary, anymore after the blood is gone. He seems much healthier, much better. Not the lost man you found when you got home. You reach back to let his hair loose, taking your time to undo the knots of his braid. In doing so, his face pressed to the soft swell of your breasts, his beard a nice burn against the bare of your chest.

It’s distracting, though not enough to phase you, so you move on, your fingers lost in the dark blond, almost brown, strands of his hair. His arms wrap around your waist, and he nuzzles further onto you. A little laugh can’t help but come out, Ubbe can be so needy.

“What?” It’s a muffled question. You could feel him smiling against your skin.

“You find it amusing that I’m trying to take care of you?”

“Hmm, no, I find it endearing,” He looks up, his chin resting just above the cleft between your breasts. “I want to take care of you now, wife.”

“Is that so?”

A grunting sound comes from the very core of him, and he pulls you down. This kiss is much more aggressive. It’s filled with days of want, with anticipation, with yearning. You melt like fresh butter on the stove, his butterfly touches lure you in. It’s quite like the high tide, an inevitable attraction that bends you to him, that bends you to the overwhelming desire that gathers at the lowest of your belly.

You feel him under you, hard and heavy. His hand goes down to the middle of your thighs, a teasing finger daring to slip in, while his thumb pressed your clit. The sound that sputtered out is shameful, heat comes to your cheeks the very second after, but he smiles, then bites his lip. Ubbe circles once, twice. It’s slow, precise like he wants to be the death of you.

His finger slides all the way when you shift. The rough, scarred skin brings friction, a warm wave of pleasure washing down on you. He’s donning a soft smile, tilting his head to the side, when he looks at you. A quivering breath rattles you. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched, so long since you felt what it was like to be made his own.

“You’ve taken no others,” Ubbe whispers, thumb still flickering at the very same pace.

It’s a miserable headshake you have to give him, “No, my love. I’m yours, only yours.”

He pushes another finger into the snug of your cunt. It’s so much, too much, and you’re not sure how it is that you’ll find space to accommodate the entirety of him. They pull out then dive back in. A stretch-burn left in their wake, but it feels good all the same, your hips respond as if prompted.

The air is damp, steam shrouding you both as he works on you with one deft hand. His deep blue eyes are keen, focused, and Ubbe relishes at each of your subtle shakes of pleasure. At each little moan, each mindless murmur of his name. You try to steady yourself, gripping the taut flesh of his shoulders, short nails digging into his skin.

It never lasts long with him.

Nothing quite compares to the high you feel when he’s touching you. It starts at the very tip of your toes, and it goes up in a trembling of your body, undoing each tense knot in your muscles. He pushes you through it, a solidness you need when your limbs fall like stones in the water. Your head lolls forwards, and you hide your face on the crook of his neck, his fingers stilling inside you, but he doesn’t pull them out just yet.

The aftertaste of a syrupy orgasm is sweet on the back of your mouth. You appreciate that he took his time to pave his way, to prepare you to take him, the fear of having him split you in half a fading memory in your fogged brain. You let a laugh spill, clinging to him.

The hollowness left behind in the loss of him filling you makes a strangled, complaining noise seep. Ubbe chuckles a rasping chuckle, then pulls you to a feverish kiss, his teeth digging to the soft wet plush of your bottom lip. Being this close to him sends aftershocks to your body. Each nerve is stirring, sensitive. Even the fair hairs on his chest bring forth friction that pebbles your nipples.

He spreads the slick around, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. The fat head of his cock bullies past the tight entrance of your cunt when he lines himself with you. Ubbe manhandles you, an arm around your waist that helps you sink on him, all slow, all steady. His grunts make you clench, shake, and moan. It fills you. It stretches to a point the wavering pleasure burns. You know it’s going to be hard to sit in the following days.

For a brief moment, he does nothing except look at you. The blue in his eyes is liquid, a gentle wave meeting the shore, you feel in your bones that you could look at them for the rest of your days. At the soft creases under them, at the thick, black lashes. It’s the sort of look that could paralyse someone. You lean forwards so your foreheads are flush together, his lips a breath away, and you let yourself drown.

Ubbe runs the room, making love to you. His fingers press the tender flesh of your waist, guiding you up then down on him, breaching you. Water splashes, and thunder roars outside, the continuous rumble of Thor’s celebration. If anything, it feels like he’s giving you his blessing. He’s making your womb fertile to give your husband the sons he’s so desperate to have. That you ache in your bones to not have given him yet.

You tip your head, seeking for the hot pressure of his lips on yours, a kiss that’s wet, and desperate. A build-up that’s been waiting months to be relieved, you scratch down his back, his hungry mouth finding the smoothness of your nipple, sucking like a babe. He’s no longer helping you, rather he’s let you take control. He’s let you ride him, the strain in your muscles adding to the force of the pull settled at the pit of your tummy.

The tips of your fingertips trace patterns over your clit that you’ve grown accustomed to in the months he was away. Ubbe looks up, blue eyes hooded with dripping lust. He grunts, pulling you deeper, his cock sliding further up into you, trying to fit all of it at once, nudging the very ending of your soaking cunt. It tears a loud, ravenous cry from somewhere deep in your chest. A guttural sound. He pulls away from your breast, worried he might have hurt you, but you shake your head, leaning towards him, rolling against him.

He nurses you, his hands rooted to your love handles, and whispers words of encouragement. It sounds like ‘love’. Ubbe’s the northern light that brings you home. You feel so much love inside you, so much you feel it might explode you into tiny little glass shards.

Desire bubbles, it knocks the breath out of both of you. He’s close, you can tell, by the knitting of his brows, eyes fluttered shut.

“Open your eyes,” You ask, a miserable, hoarse murmur of a lost soldier. “I want to look at them, please.”

His sweet, deep voice doesn't answer you, but he opens them. A small tint of blue around the blackness of his blown pupils, like taking you is a drug that makes him compliant. You nose his temple, leaving a ghost of a kiss there.

It’s hard to pinpoint when it happened. When you were ripped off reality, pushed from the tallest summit. Pleasure poured down on you like sticky honey, his name slipping like a chant, your body shaking, your heart beating so fast you feared it would be spitted out of you. Ubbe tries his best to ground you, hugging you tight as he can while he spends himself. You can feel it, heavy, thick, scorching hot ropes of cum inside.

Time ticks, but you don’t move. He’s kissing your cheeks, the tip of your nose, your lips, your chin. It’s a lazy, unconscious display of affection, and he does it without even realising it’s spurring you on. Ubbe’s still buried in you, keeping his seed from dribbling down for as long as he could, as if it’d help it stick.

“Sweets, I’m pruning up,” Your voice is muffled by the expanse of his naked chest, your face pressed down on it. “Take me to bed?”

“Hold on to me,” Ubbe says, after nodding in acceptance.

He stands up, you locked on him like a shield. His arms wrap around your waist as he steps out of the bath, dripping wet and making a complete mess. You whisper in his ear that the cleaning thralls would not be happy with all the mess he was making and Ubbe laughed, the ringing, soft sound that made you happier than you thought you could be.

If his arms felt like home, his laugh felt like the first summer breeze. Never in your life, you thought you could find someone that would mend your broken pieces, that would cherish you for who you were, not despite your flaws but because of them. You cursed everyone who made you hard to love, Ubbe made it seem so easy.

You motioned to go back to your feet, he, however, had other plans, tightening his grip around you, grumbling.

“Don’t want to let go of you yet,” It’s smooth, calm, and quiet. Almost foreign coming from a man so massive, so deathly.

“Don’t want to, either, sweets,” I rub my cheek on his, relishing the faint scraping from it. “But I don’t want us to freeze to death.”

With a last bothered grunt, Ubbe lets you down, steadying you as your legs threaten to not hold up your weight. You offer him a reassuring smile as you take the steps to where your night cotton shifts were kept, folded and clean. He looms behind you, his warmth radiating from the proximity. Before you can protest, your shift is being pried away from your hands, and he’s asking you to lift your arms.

You can’t help the giggle as you do as he told you to.

“It’s a crime,” It’s an absent-minded comment, he spins you so you’re now facing the expanse of his chest, taking interest in the mess of dark blond hair there. A masculinity trait that entices.

“What is a crime, my love?”

“You, dressed. You should be naked at all times.”

“Hmm, you wish for me to freeze?”

A smile grows on his face, and he tilts your head back so he can kiss you, bending a great deal to brush lips on yours.

“No, I do not. But I do wish to see your lovely body at all times.”

“You make me feel embarrassed, husband.”

“You shouldn’t be,” His voice dips lower. “Fuck’s sake, gorgeous, I want to take you again.”

Desire ebbs and flows within you, and you’re quick to kiss him again. His nostrils flare, a low groan falling as he grabs your ass, pulling you to him. You feel the throbbing of his cock, hardening at each second he tastes your lips. One wandering hand reaches for it, you wrap around him, bobbing deliberately. It makes you exhale in a loud sigh, your abused cunt pulsating, eager to have him. To go again. To give him more. To give him anything he wanted.

Ubbe pushes you to the bed.

“Can you take me again, wife?” He bunches up the fabric of your slim shift. “Can you?”

“I want to,” Your legs are spread apart, the once bright blue, dark as he eyes your wet pussy, index finger playing with your slick lips. “Oh, husband, I want to.”

“How do you want me?”

His question, and likely the rub of his rough hands on your thighs, rips a strangled moan from you. It’s hard to focus, your senses being sidelined as the fog of desire clouds your brain. You wanted him in any way. In every way. You wanted his fingers, you wanted his lips, you wanted his cock. You wanted him. So you tell him, and he snickers, kissing your knee, down on his, bending to the only one who could make him do so.

Ubbe asks again, sucking a patch of skin on your inner thigh. Your hips roll to him as if he ordered them. As if he commands the instincts of your body, not you. Then you blubber, voice trembling, that you want his mouth. He obliges as a faithful servant does, his teeth scraping as he snakes up to where you want him.

The first press of his tongue is unhurried. It tells you right away he’s indulging himself, that he tricked you into picking what he wanted. His licks are exploratory as if he wants to remember every curve, every indentation of you. When he pulls away to push you further into the bed, you whine, but you don’t have time to complain, as he settles once more between your legs, diving back in so eagerly that one would think he was about to eat some honeyed sweetness. Ubbe tastes, and tastes. Eating you with an unmatched hunger.

Your heels dig into his back, toes beginning to curl up as pleasure blossoms. He’s not rushing out of you, rather he edges you closer at a slow pace, his groaning resounding in gentle waves. Ubbe peers at you for a flickering moment, mouth full of you, nursing on your clit, then licking again. It was a sinful crime, for a man to be that good at this. A curse from the gods to plague poor women, to render them defenceless against him.

It comes teetering, spurts of blinding bliss that takes over you. You’re calling for him again, whimpering and beseeching. He holds you down and pulls you through, his tongue flat as he pulses it ever so slightly against your clit. It’s only when you’re begging him to stop that he latches off of you, a proud grin adorning him.

“My pretty baby,” Ubbe coos, resting his chin on your lower belly. “Done so well for me.”

“Mm, Ubbe, I love you.”

“Love me or my lips?”

“You. Your cock, your lips, your hands, your tongue.” A breathless laugh follows. “Take me again.”

“Greedy,” He smiles, lovingly squeezing your thigh. “No, no more tonight. I don’t want to break you.”

“I’m good, I want you. Deep inside me, give me a baby.”

“Hmm, I will,” A gentle grumbling noise trickles as he settles beside you, dragging you to lay your head on his chest. “You need to rest. Sleep a little.”

“Not fair,” You whine. “I came, and you should, too.”

“Hush, love, I will. Don’t worry, we won’t be leaving this bedroom anytime soon.”

You let out a contented sigh, deciding it was pointless to argue with him, your brain dull and spent. Ubbe was right, you needed to rest. You didn’t even realise how tired you were until he lured you into a peaceful sleep. The first good night of sleep you know you’ll have after all the months he was away.

No one ever said parenting was easy. Especially for two people who had never expected kids, so young anyways.

But the gift of parenthood proved to be one of many trial and errors, learning with each other and  needing only the utmost patience.

And nights weren’t enjoyable for anyone.

“Are you kidding me?” You grumbled at your daughters distressed crying. Ubbe stirred next to you, laying an arm across you to keep you down, “I’ll get her.”

“No, you’ve gotten her twice already, I’ll get her.”

“I’m already up,” he muttered sleepily as he swung his legs over the bed you shared. He shuffled uncoordinated into the small room across the hall, and your tired, heavy eyes reacted negatively to the new light.

Ugh.

The crying seemed to die down for a bit, but it grew again when Ubbe asked her what was wrong. “M-monsters, daddy! There’s a monster!” She cried.

“Monsters!” He says in playful alarm, making you chuckle.

Your eyes ached from the lack of sleep, but you absolutely loved listening to the conversations of your sweet daughter and your husband. Somethings were louder than others, but you strained your ears to listen. “You wanna come with mommy and daddy, buggy?” Ubbe asked with a yawn. After a brief moment of silence, you heard soft footsteps creep into the room, muffled under the rug you had laid under the bed. You pretended to close your eyes and watched as the small girl and Ubbe crawled into the bed gently, placing a small kiss to her forehead before allowing his green eyes to close.

It hadn’t been more than five minutes before you would start hearing more questions. “Daddy?” Your daughter whispered loudly. You bit back a laugh as Ubbe’s recently closed eyes were reopened. “Yes buggy?”

“Why does mommy sleep on her belly?”

“It’s more comfortable for her. Want to try?” He asked, desperately wanting his daughter to sleep. To your entertainment, the little girl shook her head. “No thank you. Hey daddy?”

“Yes baby?”

“Where does the sun go when it gets dark?” She asked. You smiled to yourself as your daughter now shifted to sit on Ubbe’s stomach and played with his beard. “The sun,” he grabbed her tiny hands, “goes to sleep, like all little boys and girls, so that the moon can look out for the boys and girls who are awake. That’s why when the sun goes to bed, you have to as well.”

“Why?”

You nearly lost it.

“Because the moon doesn’t like when little boys and girls are awake because that means that they can’t play when the sun comes back. Okay?”

“Uh-huh,” the girl nodded, smiling innocently at her father.

A couple minutes pass.

“Daddy?” A loud sigh escaped Ubbe’s lips.

“Yes?”

“Can we go to the park?” She asked, a little smile plastered her lips.

Ubbe rubbed his face out of exhaustion.

“We’ll see; you have to try to sleep though, okay?” Ubbe negotiated, rubbing his daughters hands. She nodded excitedly, bouncing up and down on Ubbe’s stomach. He groans, “come on baby, lie down, let’s sleep.”

“Okay daddy,” she said, sliding off of his chest and burying her face in the pillow. You nod to yourself, proud of Ubbe’s patience and negation skills, nearly wondering how he was able to do it-

“Daddy??” A little voice asked.

Oh. That’s how.

“Yes,” Ubbe grumbled in frustration.

“I’m hungry,” her tiny voice whines

“It’ll be breakfast before you know it, baby,” he muttered, not exactly kidding. He rubbed her back lightly to coax his daughter back to sleep, to little success. You sighed in contempt as you thought that maybe Ubbe had won.

“Please daddy?”

Your eyes opened again to watch Ubbe rub his face in exhaustion and gently pick his daughter up.

“Okay- one snack, then you have to promise me you’ll try to sleep, okay?”

“Okay daddy,” The little girl giggled.

You watched in amusement as the pair quietly and slowly creeped out of the room, gently turning over to look at the clock on your nightstand. 4:30. Ugh.

As the sun slowly began to peak through the trees, you heard the little giggle that you adored falling from your daughters chubby lips. You quietly got out of bed and followed the sound to the kitchen, where your loving husband stood, black tank top and blue and yellow plaid boxers adorned him, hair messed up and through the pale pink and purple light from outside, she could see the deep color of the bags under his usually soulful eyes, along with the unkempt scragles of his beard. His icy blues were closed in exhaustion, and as his little girl nibbles on cereal, you were sure Ubbe could fall asleep right then, had he not been bouncing his little girl. You leaned in the doorframe, smiling at the adorable scene before you, wishing you had a camera to save it forever.

“Mommy!” Your baby called, spilling the cereal. Ubbe’s eyes flew open, and he nearly dropped the child in his arms out of shock. “How long have you been awake?!” Ubbe scolded, playfully annoyed.

You strut over to the pair, “I never went back to sleep. I wanted to hear why the sun goes down.” You laid your head on his shoulder and gently rubbed your daughter’s cheek, hypnotizing her to finally close her eyes and slowly drift to sleep. “How... how did-“

I was found in my mother's house under some furs, according to Ragnar, no bigger than a rabbit, and because I was so small people thought I would die. I am now 22 years old, and I have been helping Aslaug with the boys. Hvitserk, Ubbe, and Sigurd grew up like normal boys, but Ivar grew up with anger. I would train, hunt, fish, and eat with them, but I also helped the women with harvesting, weaving, and cooking for the feasts. My life was good for the most part, but because of who my father is I've never had peace. 

"I don't see why you stay in Kattegat. You'll never be welcomed here" Gilnar hissed at me during our feast.

Apparently he lost his father when my father stayed in Paris, and he's always the one to start this little game of his. 

"You need to get more ale Gilnar." I ignore his statements. 

"Yea. Get me some." He holds his cup out to me. After I'm done pouring his drink I go to hand him the cup, but spit in it as he grabs it. 

"Why you little bitch." He growls grabbing his axe. "I'm going to finally rid Kattegat of filth." I flip my axe up blocking his axe.

"ENOUGH'' a loud voice stops us.

We pull back as the crowd parts, and Ubbe comes through. He grabs Gilnar's axe, punching him in the face, and walks to me smirking with those intense blue eyes. 

"Must you cause trouble?" He chuckles as I shrug at him. 

"You always stick up for her." Gilnar grumbles. Ubbe frowns as he turns, throwing Gilnar's axe to him.

"That's right, and if this continues I will protect her fully." He pushes Gilnar to the ground. 

I grab the jug of ale, and walk out the Great Hall over to the docks. It has always been like this, Gilnar gets drunk, starts his ranting, Ubbe comes to protect me, and I keep my mouth shut. I sigh, taking a chug out the jug as I lean my head on the post. I sometimes wonder what my mom would want for me. I turn my head to the footsteps coming down the dock, and Ubbe sits next to me with a grunt. 

"Why do you always stick up for me?" I ask looking at the water. 

"Someone has to protect you, because that spit of yours is going to get you in trouble." He laughs at his own joke. 

"I only did that, because he talked to me like a slave. I can't stand him." I gulp some ale slamming the jug down.

"(Y/n) you can easily kill him, and he knows it. He's jealous of how you can go on raids, and he has to stay here. Besides you have m...uh family and he's alone." He clears his throat. 

"You think that Ubbe, but I don't have family. If it wasn't for your father feeling sorry for me I'd be dead right now." I sigh.

He doesn't say anything for a while we just sit there until he wraps his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side. 

"Well you have me, now. That is if you want me." He softly says in my ear.

I look up at him, my head still on his shoulder, and he smiles down at me. He kisses me hard, almost knocking me to the dock, but I grab the fur on his shoulders. We kiss hard, fast, and passionate while his hands rub my body. The burning in my chest made me back away gasping. 

"Ubbe." I look up at him biting my lip

"Be my wife (y/n)? Let me protect you for life." He says against my lips.

"Are you sure you want me? I mean..." I stutter. "You are a prince. Why would you want me?" I look up at him confused.

"Because you are strong, funny, good hearted, and you love family. Who wouldn't want that as their wife? I would love to go on raids with you, come home to you after a hunt, even though I already do come straight to you with a kill when you stay with the women, and I want only to warm my bed." He whispers the last bit in my ear. "Besides... you forget you are a princess even if your father is dead." 

"Ubbe" I moaned, biting my lip hard, but he kept kissing and biting it. "Okay..Ubbe I'll be your wife." I giggle trying to push him back. 

“Master, I beg you to reconsider.” Your mother pleaded

“Fine! Let me look her over one last time.” He said with some annoyance.

Your mother looked at the tall, flaxen-haired man as he walked over to you. As he looked at you, his icy blue eyes made you feel intimidated, but, you held his gaze nonetheless. Despite his refusal, he seemed to behold you with some interest. At least you thought so by the way he eyed you from head to toe. However, after looking at you a while, he shook his head.

“No. I still do not want her.” He said as he headed towards the door.

"Please, Master! As you know, I have ten children and Y/N is the second eldest. If she stays, she will only be another mouth to feed.” Your mother persisted. “A man like you could use her hands well. She cooks, cleans, sews--"

"Do you suppose that I do not know this already? After all, I have seen her going about." He snapped.

As you nervously pivoted to your left foot, he eyed you again, this time with a bit of a smirk. When he finished buttoning his leather vesting, he exhaled loudly before glancing at your mother.

"Fine!"

Your excited mother's mouth fell open with surprise.

"Really” She nearly screeched. “You will take her, Master?" She asked the stranger as he walked over to you again.

He lifted your chin upward to look at him and gave you another one of his odd smirks.

"I will take her." He said with his eyes never leaving yours. "How much do you want for her then?"

Your mother could hardly believe her luck. These raiders had already had their way in you town for three nights. With your father being long dead, she knew that money would be hard to come by for the foreseeable future. Especially since the Vikings had likely caused loads of damage and taken a great deal of the town’s wealth. God might have seemed far off, however, he did at least give some favor to your family. None of you were killed or taken thanks to the stranger. And most importantly, you nor your sisters had been ravaged by the Viking men due to his presence.

"Master, I will take whatever you think she is worth ." Your mother replied not wanting to push her luck with him.

"So, you will let me decide what she is worth?" The flaxen haired stranger asked with amusement.

Looking down at you, he smiled briefly before gliding his fingers against your cheek. You frowned despite trying your best not to. His odd gesture made you angry and his gaze did not help the situation.

Well, you heard your mother." He said looking down at you. "So, how much do you suppose you are worth Y/N?"

Your eyes became wet with tears almost immediately. You were saddened by the fact your only parent meant to sell you off. To a horrid Viking no less! 

"Nothing." You replied in a voice that denoted sorrow.

Eyeing you a moment longer, the Viking let go of you chin and looked at your mother. Grabbing something from his leather belt, he tossed it to her in one swift motion. Luckily, she caught whatever he had thrown and held it in her hand with shock. As your mother unlaced the leather sack, you realized it contained gold coins - way more than necessary to purchase you.

"Well, since Y/N is now mine, we shall take our leave." The stranger said to you mother before turning to you. “Go get your things.” He instructed.

You nodded and went straight off to pack as much of your essentials as you could. Upon re-entering the main room, you found the Viking already waiting for you by the door. As you followed him, you could barely look at your mother as you walked past her to exit the house. You muttered an awkward goodbye as she tried to grab you by the arm - perhaps she wanted a hug, but you did not care.

Once you and the stranger were at the stables, he hastily began putting the saddle onto his steed.  After he was done, he tied his belongings onto the horse's saddle and looked at you. Surprisingly, he motioned for your sack that contained all your worldly possessions, which you gladly handed over. As you mentally prepared yourself for the long walk alongside his horse while he rode, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Come Y/N, let me help you on." He said as he patted the saddle. 

He gave you a boyish smile when he noticed your surprised expression. Since you had expected to walk, his request had left you flustered for a moment.

Holding in a relieved smile, you allowed him to help you atop his horse, very glad that you would not be walking. As you fixed your skirts, he got on behind you. Though you felt uncomfortable with him being so close, you said nothing. Kicking his heels into the steed’s sides, the two of you trotted away from your home at a nice slow pace.

________________

It seemed the stranger was not in too much of a hurry because he allowed the horse to leisurely trot as he took in the sites of the countryside. During the quiet ride, it didn't take long before his free hand found it’s way around your waist. Despite not liking it, you remained silent and did not voice any objections.

"My name is Ubbe, by the way." He said suddenly to your surprise.

“If I may be so bold Master, why do you feel the need to reveal your name to me now?”

"I suppose I just thought you should know who purchased you." He said with a laugh.

"Whatever pleases you. But I will refrain from repeating it." You replied as you looked down the dirt road. "After all, no slave calls their owner by their name. So you see, knowing your name is of no use to me."

"What is a slave?" Ubbe asked with curiosity.

"A slave is someone who is bought or captured by another person. They are forced to work until they die or the Master gives them their freedom." You answered. "So you see, I am your slave."

"Oh. We call them Thralls." He replied . "At any rate, who said I bought you to be my slave?"

You did not give a reply to his question. Perhaps he meant to use you for more "salacious" endeavors. If your Master meant to make you a comfort girl to service his Viking friends, you would not comply.

"I cannot sleep with loads of strange men! I would rather runaway or kill myself!" You thought with anger.

________________

The rest of the ride was quiet with him increasing the speed of the horse to get you both to the docks quickly. When you finally arrived, your Master seemed to be very well known. There was a particular group of young men looking at the two of you as he helped you dismount from the horse.

“Who is she?” A smiling flaxen haired man asked your Master. “I like her already.”

The young man circled you with a look of intrigue and lust in his eyes. When he reached out and caressed your earring, that is when your Master seemed to step in.

“She is not for you Hvitserk!” Ubbe replied with smirk and a lick of his lips.

“Brother, you cannot mean you will not share her.” Hvitserk said as he smiled at you again.

“I mean exactly that.” Your Master replied with a laugh as he handed his things over to an old woman.

“Thank you Prince Ubbe.” The woman said before she and the others scurried off.

“You are a Prince?” You asked - eyes wide and full of shock.

“Come Y/N.” He said utterly ignoring your question.

“But my things, should I not carry them?”

“Do not worry. The Thralls have them.” Ubbe replied.

Apprehensively, you placed your hand in his as he helped you onto a massive ship. It was one amongst the myriad of Viking raiding ships. You could not believe that you were now standing in one about to leave your homeland. As Ubbe took a seat, he watched as you stood looking out to your town. 

__________________

It did not take long for all the Viking ships to finally set sail in orderly fashion. The one that you were on being the second to depart the docks. When you could no longer see land, you stood looking out to the ocean with a heavy heart and tears in your eyes. You had no idea what to expect or what was to happen once you arrived in Viking lands. As you stood there thinking, the breeze from the ocean hit you, causing you to tremble from the cold. It did not help that you were wearing a simple cotton dress which allowed the frigid air blow through as if you were naked. Clasping your hands, your began to rub them together in order to get them warm.

“Y/N, come here.” Ubbe ordered.

Walking to your Master, who was seated and wrapped in expensive furs, you stopped in front of him

“Yes. Are you in need of anything?” You asked with chattering teeth as you held your arms around your body.

The wind picked up quite fiercly at that moment and beat against your dress, sending it slightly flailing around you.

“Come.” Ubbe motioned as he opened the furs.

You hesitated a moment, however, it was far too cold for you to resist the offer of being wrapped in warmth. Taking a seat between your Master’s legs, you leaned your back into his body as he wrapped the furs over the two of you. It was delightful to feel warm again as you allowed him to hold you close to his chest.

“Master, why am I not with the other slaves?”

“Stop saying that word. You are to live with Vikings now so you must say Thrall.” Ubbe replied.

“Fine!” You said with irritation. “Why am I not with the other thralls? You asked.

“As I have told you already Y/N, I did not purchase you to be a Thrall.”

You felt his arms tighten around you as he held you even closer than before. Suddenly, you felt his lips against your ear.

“I am going to marry you.”

Turning sharply to look at him, Y/C eyes met his icy blue ones - ever full of mischief.

“Please do not tease me Master. You paid great coin for me and --.”

“Forget that money. Consider it dowry to your mother if you must.” He chuckled. “I was going to tell her that I wanted you for a wife but her unexpected request made the entire situation.......very amusing.”

“I do not believe you Master.”

“I am not your Master. You must call me Ubbe from now on.” He said, with a devious smirk upon his face. “How will it look to everyone if my soon-to-be wife refuses to call me by name?”

You turned from him, unsure of what to make of his words. Was he playing a cruel trick or was he being honest? Holding you close again, Ubbe kissed your cheek sweetly.

“Do you not wish to marry me Y/N?” He asked. “After all, I would never force you.”

“It is not that. I just...... I just do not understand why you wish to marry me.” You managed to say. 

Cradling your head against his shoulder, Ubbe said nothing for a moment. He merely held you close as he looked off into the sky for some time. 

“We are meant to be. I felt it from the first night during the raids. When I spotted you standing in your families farm with a look of pure terror upon your pretty face, I knew you were the one. That is why I took up residence in your home.” He confessed. “To protect you all.”

You turned and looked up at him again. Searching his eyes, your heart was overcome with great emotion. From gratitude to genuine adoration...you could not put how you felt into words. As you beheld the handsome Prince, you could not believe your life in that moment. 

“You have my deepest gratitude for --.”

Before you could finish speaking, Ubbe brought his lips to yours, giving you a gentle and sweet peck. As his soft lips left yours, you could not help but to give him a shy smile.

“Thank the Gods! So you do know how to smile.” He jested with a laugh. “Now then, what is my name?”

“Ubbe.” You apprehensively said - doing your best to get accustomed to his name on your tongue.

“Wonderful Y/N.” He sighed with relief. Wrapping his arms around you, he smiled as he pressed another kiss onto your cheek. “Now, get some sleep, it is a long way home.”

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