Archive of Our Own

You had grown up with the Ragnarssons. Your mother was one of the most trusted friends of Aslaug’s, so, naturally, you had grown up alongside the Queen’s wild but lovable boys. You cherished them as brothers and they loved you as a sister.

At least you thought it was like that. For, unbeknownst to you, Ubbe loved you. As more than a friend, more than a sister. He loved you earnestly and oh so deeply.

He had always been closer to you than the rest of his brothers. You were the same age as him, so it was natural for you two to understand and sympathize with each other. As children you often clung to each other, committed all your punishable deeds together and played side by side for many hours a day. Many times, desperate maids would give you baths together, because you two would stubbornly refuse to be separated.

Over the years, your close bond had strengthened even more and had turned into a steadfast, undying friendship. You openly considered him your best friend, even as a young woman, bluntly ignoring all the gossip about the relationship you two shared that circled all around Kattegat. And Ubbe would take pride in seeing how much you trusted and appreciated him.

It had been like that for years. There was nothing to threaten your friendship; you did not even argue much. The days would pass peacefully, you two trained and hunted together, discussed your problems and laughed your nights away. It had been innocent, your friendship, but then it all changed dramatically for him.

It all had begun the day Ubbe realized you were becoming a woman- and a very fine one. You were not adults yet at that time. You two had been out hunting all day and you were returning back home with your trophies, the wild boar you had stricken and the deer he had killed. You had stopped by a river to refill your flask with water and as he had turned to face you, something just melted inside him. It was as if you had been showered by another light, because you suddenly looked all different. Your sunlit face seemed so lively and cheerful, your cheeks so rosy and your eyes so full of life. Your braided hair scattered in the breeze and your eyes shone with vitality. And the shieldmaiden’s clothes fit so perfectly on your lithe body. You had opened your mouth and spoken to him, but that day he had not heard your words, only your sweet voice that ringed in his ears melodically. His heart had hammered like a trapped little bird and you had smiled innocently.

From that day on, he could not view you in another way. You always seemed so radiant and lovely and beautiful that you would regularly take his breath away. He could only follow you around, entranced, not knowing what was blooming inside him, what sentiment had started to nestle in him. Everything you did or said was admirable and outstanding and thanks to you, he was lost into a permanent bright daydream. It had been like that for a while. And then, miraculously shaken out off that giddying trance, his teenage heart had gotten wind of what was happening. He had started to fall in love with you.

It would be a bad thing to be in love with you, for he thought that you would never reciprocate his feelings. He knew how much you loved him as a brother and a friend, but it was as such for the rest of his brothers as well. Your friendly feelings would never change, but from subtle remarks you had made it clear that your relationship could not go further. At least that was what he had understood.

It hurt to know that his love would be unrequited.

Nevertheless, he could not shake that blossoming feeling away, though the gods know he tried. He attempted to distance himself from you, but he was not able to last a day without seeing your sunny smile or hearing your mellow voice speak to him cheerfully. He desperately tried to convince himself that he could still regard you as nothing more than a friend, but he could not ignore his strong urges to scoop you up in his arms and kiss you until the world was nothing but dust. He made every effort possible to hide his growing feelings for you and in that he did succeed. You always came to him, unsuspecting and carefree, ignorant of the turmoil you aroused in him every single time.

That went on for years. And even when you two reached adulthood, just when he had thought that he could finally let go of what he believed was an immature love, his feelings grew more intense.

You had grown to become a beautiful woman, with curves, a shining smile and a vivacity that drove men mad. Naturally, men started courting you and for Ubbe it was torture seeing them buzz around you like bees around honey. Much to his relief, you rejected their proposals of marriage, proudly declaring your independence, though one day you confessed to him that you simply did not feel ready to marry yet. You would wait and find the right person, you had said.

And gods how he wanted to be the one you were looking for.

Although they did not know of his love for you, his brothers and sometimes even his mother would tease him about his relationship with you. His brothers would even go as far as to openly flirt with you just to annoy him, and though you never did return their moves, it always angered him. And over the years, it was getting harder and harder to hide it all. The anger, the jealousy. The love.

His love for you, of course, did not stop him from courting and bedding other women. He had needs and a hole in his heart that you have left empty. He found solace in other women’s care and attention, while you possibly went with other men too. He got used to his wild-racing heart when you were near, but he began to feel increasingly uncomfortable when you talked to him. As a result of his discomfort and annoyance, which was evident at times, you two started to bicker quite often. But still, you stayed the close friends you had always been. Only that Ubbe had a secret that pained him deep inside.

“Ubbe!”

Ubbe raised his head as he heard your voice calling him. He was returning from training, while you had just been in the village. You waved your hands as if to suggest he should hurry, but upon seeing that he was not going any faster, you lifted the ends of your skirts and broke into a run to reach him sooner.

“Why, you look so woebegone, Ubbe!”, you remarked cheerfully, while he greeted you. “Didn’t the training go well?”

“It was fine”, he answered laconically, “But why do you look so happy?”, he asked hesitantly, afraid that you might mention some man.

“I am very glad you asked! I have very pleasant news. Remember the milkman’s daughter I mentioned the other day?”

“Not really”, Ubbe answered truthfully. He was quite indifferent to the gossip you would sometimes bring to him.

“Come on! The milkman’s daughter, whom I had befriended. I told you that I had the impression that she was in love with the shoemaker’s son, no?”, you did not wait for his reply, “Well, it turns out I was right! But she was too shy to approach him and he had not noticed her. So I took it upon myself to fix the situation. It took me much effort, but after one month of endless talks and strolls, I finally matched them up! It will not take them long to get married now!”, you finished your sentence, your face beaming with satisfaction.

Ubbe looked at you, perplexed. “You are saying you got them together?”

“Yes! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“(Y/N)! Don’t stick your nose where it does not belong!” You looked at him in surprise, his reaction clearly not being the one you had anticipated. “How do you know he wanted to end up with her?”, Ubbe went on.

“What does it matter? He is happy now”, you said in a small voice.

“But it was none of your business, (Y/N), and you know it. Don’t meddle with other people’s lives”, Ubbe reprimanded you as though you were a little child.

“I wanted to help!”, you protested, eyeing him in agitation, “I did not meddle with their lives, I simply made it easier for them.”

“It is easy to make it look like it was help that you offered them, when, in fact, you just had nothing better to do.”

You kicked away a small rock that stood on your path. “Why are you being so irritable? Could you not just congratulate my success and move on?”

“It was you that made it such a big deal in the first place. I could not care less”, Ubbe grumbled in his turn, following the tumbling rock with his gaze.

You sighed in annoyance and opened your mouth as if to say something, but closed it immediately. You two continued to walk in silence and Ubbe looked at you from the corner of his eye. Perhaps his reaction had been too disappointing, but it annoyed him to see you occupy yourself with such dumb, pointless activities like matchmaking.

“How was your day?”, he attempted to initiate a conversation, but you had sulked.

“Fine”, you answered.

“Any news?”

“No other.”

“Your mother?”

“She is well. Insists on convincing me to marry, as usual. Yours?”

“Very well. She asked if you and your mother would like to come over for supper tonight.”

“I will tell my mother, but I do not think I can come along”, you said grudgingly.

“(Y/N), come on, don’t act so offended! It is not that big of a deal, I just told you what I thought of it”, Ubbe made an attempt to soothe your anger. He had been honest with you, as he believed you would have liked him to be. Not to hide his true feelings.

“You accused me of taking advantage of them because I was bored”, you insisted stubbornly, “I just wanted to help them be happy.”

“I know, (Y/N), of course you meant well. It’s just that I believe you have better things to do than involve yourself with gossiping and things like that. Romantic affairs can be dangerous, do you want to create a scandal for yourself?”

You cast a sidelong glance at him, pursed your lips together and then burst into an uncontrollable laughter. Ubbe just stared at you, confused, but you laughter echoed pleasantly in his ears. Your light mood had finally been restored. You could never stay angry at him for long and he felt the same about you.

“Oh, dear Ubbe!”, you exclaimed and the said man’s heart fluttered, “And what do you know of romantic affairs and scandals? Or of the matters of the heart?”

“I know one thing or two”, he answered mysteriously. He knew, didn’t he?

“As if! You men are oblivious to such things. It is hard for you to understand a person’s feelings”, you smirked knowingly, “So let us women handle the scandals and the matters of love, my friend. Ah, we are almost home, I must go!”

You had almost reached your house. From afar he could distinguish your maid, a young woman named Margrethe, who, upon seeing you approach, had begun waving her hands animatedly. You waved back.

“Alright, but just do not get carried away. Love is not a game”, Ubbe warned you as you started running towards the blond woman. He had sensed that your success had inspired you to seek more love problems to fix. You had always been like that, constantly getting excited with something new to take up, only to abandon it for something else after a while. You were an ever-busy woman, your energy knew no end. But feelings were not something to be toyed with and as much as you insisted that you meant well, Ubbe knew you only too well to be sure that playing the matchmaker had enchanted you. He only hoped it would not result in trouble.

You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him with a wide smile and he suddenly felt like a lovesick teenager again. “Oh, and tell your mother that of course we will come!”

But still how he loved you.

.............

Ubbe had always been someone you relied on. With so many years of friendship, you knew that you could always count on him when you were in need of a helping hand and, indeed, he had never failed to come rushing to your side. He could seem intimidating to others, but you were well acquainted with his soft side, he had many times proven an emotional anchor for you. And you trusted and valued his opinions greatly.

That was why his disapproval of your little victory had angered you. You thought he would be proud of you, but instead he had seemed disappointed. You never knew why but he always refrained from talking about love. He never asked about your romantic affairs and as for his, you still remained in the shadows. And no, it was not like you needed to know, but you were a tad curious about the women who could engage his affections. You wondered what kind of women he did like. But whenever you tried to imagine him with someone else, inevitably, your mind would always wander back to the moments you two had shared.

And that would upset you. You were not in love him, you could never be. And the same went for him.

You were currently running towards Margrethe, your maid. She had been given to you when you were a teenager and as she had been a teenager herself, she had grown to become more of a friend to you than a servant. And you liked it better that way. You had grown up mainly around boys, so it was nice to have a female companion for once. You had finally found someone who was more than willing to talk about love and its secrets.

“Margrethe, what has you looking so enthusiastic?”, you asked as you drew closer. She clearly seemed excited about something, but at the same time she was nervous and fidgety.

“Oh, (Y/N), you will never guess what happened!”, she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing, “Aage asked for my hand in marriage this morning!”

You gaped at her. “What?”, you asked, grimacing slightly. Aage was a young fisherman who had been courting Margrethe for quite some time now. You had allowed this to continue, never imagining it was that serious. But marriage? That was more than serious.

“Why, is this not good news?”, the flustered woman inquired, baffled at your reaction.

“Oh, very”, you said with indifference, “But don’t tell me you have accepted his offer!”, you eyed her inquiringly.

“No! No! I told him to wait because I wanted to consult you before I gave an answer. Please, (Y/N), tell me what I should do!”

“I am sorry, Margrethe, but I cannot point out what you should do. The decision must be your own entirely.”

“But do you not have any advice?”, Margrethe asked, discouraged, “Please? This is a really big decision!”

“I have plenty of advice that I could give. But it might influence you in one way or another and I do not wish that”, you explained calmly. In reality, you were very well tempted to tell Margrethe to reject Aage then and there, but you managed to restrain yourself. Personally, you believed that Margrethe could do better than marry a mere fisherman. You had high hopes for her.

“Then tell me what you think of Aage”, Margrethe insisted demurely.

You sighed to hide your annoyance. “He is a good man, Margrethe, but just a fisherman. Do you want to be a fisherman’s wife?”

“Yes?”, Margrethe answered unsurely and eyed you closely, in hopes of producing the right answer from you.

You crossed your hands to your chest. “Well, do you?”, you asked again, irritated.

“No”, she finally offered lamely.

“Then decide accordingly”, you said with an air of finality.

Margrethe fumbled with her dress and looked around nervously. She stood still, in deep thought, for some time, then raised her head and looked at you, her expression almost determined.

“Well? What do you say?”, you demanded impatiently, hoping she would refuse the offer. If she did, you would take it upon yourself to find her some good man of high rank. And why not one of the Ragnarssons? Female slaves often married men above them.

“Well, (Y/N), even though you refuse to advise me, I have now quite determined, and really almost made up my mind to-“, she breathed anxiously and you prompted her to go on, “-to refuse Aage. Do you think I am right?”

“Perfectly right, Margrethe, really!”, you cried, “You are doing what you should do- to refuse the offer. I did not want to tell you such a thing from the beginning, so as not to influence your decision, but I was sure you would make the right choice”, you went on enthusiastically and Margrethe just kept staring at you sheepishly. “I lay it down as a general rule, my friend, that if a woman doubts whether she should accept a man or not, then she certainly ought to refuse him. Do you understand?”

“Yes”, the other woman answered hesitantly but you were too excited to notice.

“Now, go and tell him your answer. It will not be too hard if you are firm and concise. Go”, you urged her, “and return soon! I am going to Queen Aslaug’s for supper and I will be needing you!”, you called to her.

When she was out of sight, you placed your hands on your hips and smiled contentedly. You would have work to do at Aslaug’s.

...............

You looked around the table carefully. You were seated next to Ubbe, as always, and your mother was also seated in her usual spot next to Aslaug. On your left sat Sigurd and you faced Hvitserk and Ivar. You observed the men for some time and thought about who would make a better partner for Margrethe, whom you had brought along with you. You smiled mischievously as you picked your target.

You motioned to Margrethe to refill your cup with mead and when she finished you noted that Hvitserk’s cup was also empty and watched her fuss over him in an attempt to refill his cup as well. On your way to the great hall earlier that night, you had instructed her to look as graceful and charming as she could, highlighting of the opportunity that she could catch the attention of the Ragnarssons. You kept watching as Margrethe gifted Hvitserk an alluring smile and you proudly caught the flicker of attraction in the latter’s eyes.

Your mother and Aslaug were chatting rather animatedly. Sigurd and Ivar were bickering as usual and Hvitserk kept stealing provocative glances at Margrethe. You smirked in satisfaction.

“What is on your mind this time?”, Ubbe’s voice interrupted you from your thoughts.

“Oh, nothing, really”, you replied dismissively, but your smile contradicted you.

Ubbe scoffed, clearly unconvinced. “What is it? You keep staring at your maid.”

You put a spoonful of porridge in your mouth and swallowed. “Well, I was just thinking about her future”, you admitted, “She rejected a marriage proposal today.”

Ubbe raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You mean you told her to reject the proposal?”

“Me? Tell her such a thing? Never!”, you acted offended but could not stop smiling, “She decided that all on her own. And let me tell you, she did the right thing. Just look at them”, you jerked your head towards the direction of Hvitserk, who had finally gave in and had called Margrethe next to him. She had now settled on his lap, smiling sweetly.

Ubbe grunted, immediately grasping the meaning behind your words. “And what makes you think Hvitserk will marry her?”

“Love”, you simply said.

“He does not have to be in love with her to want to bed her”, he remarked and you snapped at him with annoyance.

“He can fall in love with her and he will. Many princes have married slaves before, so why does that sound so surprising to you?”

“He won’t fall for her, (Y/N). Stop being delusional”, Ubbe remarked harshly and leaned back on his chair, as if to suggest that the discussion had ended.

You felt a strange sinking feeling in your chest. “Delusional? Why, you are nothing but a-“

“-What are you two arguing about?”, Aslaug interjected, before you could speak your insult. Everyone in the table shifted their attention to you two.

“Oh, nothing”, you smiled innocently, picking up your cup, “we were just talking about marriage.”

“Finally! Took you ages”, Sigurd commented and Ubbe threw a piece of his bread at him.

“She does not mean us, you fool!”, he grumbled and Sigurd laughed.

Much to your surprise, you felt a blush form on your cheeks. You and Ubbe? Married? Why had Sigurd suggested such a thing? You blushed even more, annoyed that the idea of being married to the blue-eyed man made you feel both uncomfortable and excited at the same time.

“Why are you so red, little (Y/N)?”, Ivar teased you and you internally cursed him for his astute powers of observation.

You struggled to regain your composure but finally managed to reply. “I was thinking about marriage in general, that’s all.” You raised your cup to your lips, desperate to hide the blush that still burnt your cheeks.

“(Y/N), when will you marry, really?”, your mother asked eagerly. She very much disapproved of your rejecting countless marriage proposals and had many times attempted to convince you to do otherwise. To no avail, of course. You were still young, but remained unmarried. You were simply waiting to find the love of your life, you knew that this was the only way for you to have a happy marriage. Many girls you had known had married the first man who had come to them and all of them now led unhappy, unfulfilling lives. You wanted to save Margrethe from the exact same calamity and that is why you had carefully talked her into rejecting the fisherman. In truth, you were doing her a big favour.

“Yes, dear (Y/N), what are your plans about marriage?”, you heard Aslaug ask and raised your head to meet her gaze. She was smiling kindly. She was a clever woman, your Queen. She could probably see right through you, much like her brown-haired son. But you had nothing to hide from them, no?

“I am fine just the way I am”, you answered, “I don’t need to get married yet. I can wait. I should see the world first, get to know more people”, you made a vague gesture with your hand.

“(Y/N)!”, you mother gasped, scandalized, “Wayfaring shall take you ages! If you plan to remain unmarried forever, then say so and stop tormenting me!”

You shifted uneasily, embarrassed of your mother’s outburst. Why did everyone have to witness this?

“Yes, (Y/N), why did you reject poor Kalfr?”, Sigurd joked, referring to your latest suitor, a young warrior with whom you had entered a brief relationship and who had suddenly decided he was madly in love with you. Well, too bad you were not.

You dug an elbow into his ribs as reproof. The brothers chuckled and you hissed. Your mother looked as if she had been stricken by lightning and Aslaug was staring at you quizzically.

“You too, Ubbe, should marry”, Aslaug proposed slowly, now looking at her oldest son, “You should have children by now.”

Ubbe smirked. “I probably already have”, he teased his mother and she rolled her eyes. You frowned, disturbed, without really knowing why.

Silence ensued. Everyone focused on their plates and only the clinking sounds of the metallic spoons against the wooden bowls was heard.

“I heard Bjorn Ironside is coming back to Kattegat”, your mother spoke all of a sudden.

“Really?”, you asked, interest warming your voice, having heard of the same rumours yourself. For some reason, you felt curious to get to know this mighty son of Ragnar. His fame reached far and wide.

“Perhaps he is coming for the throne”, Ivar offered suspiciously.

“Nonsense, Ivar, he has as equal a claim to the throne as all of you. Besides, Ragnar is still king. He must be back for another reason”, you said thoughtfully. “Will you welcome him, Aslaug?”

Your queen smirked mysteriously. She was a volva and you wondered whether she possessed some knowledge about your future that you did not know. “Do I have another choice? He has his own band of men”, was her answer to your question.

“You ought to welcome him in honour of king Ragnar, not because he is a potential threat”, you voiced your disappointment.

“You sound as if you want to meet him very badly, (Y/N)”, Hvitserk joked but you took it as a serious remark.

“I am intrigued by him, I am not going to lie. I am curious to see what another Ragnarsson could be like”, you said rather tactlessly, forgetting the old bitter rivalry between Aslaug and Lagertha, Bjorn’s mother.

“Are we not good enough for you, (Y/N)? Or is it that you want more than you already have?”

It was Ubbe who spoken so roughly. You turned to face him in the eyes, completely taken aback by his words, and was surprised to see that he seemed angry. Ubbe rarely got angry- and if he ever did, he took care in hiding his anger. Now he stared at you intensely, his blue eyes wide, unnerving.

So unnerving, in fact, that you, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of anger, embarrassment and a tint of fear, stormed out of the room without uttering a single word.

Gods how you hated him sometimes.

...................

Bjorn Ironside did come to come to Kattegat a few days later and as you had guessed, he did not claim the throne, nor did he make any mention of it. He arrived with his band of men, but he came in peace and as Aslaug had promised, she welcomed him as the son of a king, the son of Ragnar Lothbrok.

Ubbe was the son of Ragnar Lothbrok as well. Yet, that night you had shown interest in Bjorn, not in him. And that, combined with the exasperating talk about marriage, had greatly angered him. As if it was not enough he had to conceal his feelings for you every single day, now he would be forced to watch you flirt with his half-brother as well. Watch while he could do nothing to prevent it.

And indeed how much he had to watch. He watched as you were being introduced to Bjorn by his own mother and he could not help but rage in jealousy as he saw your eyes flicker with excitement and attraction. He turned away in disdain as you gifted his half-brother a generous smile. You had been dazzled, he thought, you had been dazzled by the big man’s charm, smooth talking and kind gaze. He watched as you drank with him and his men and let him enchant you with the stories of his wondrous travels.

Ubbe simply sulked in a corner. He respected Bjorn and loved you. He could never interject, as much as he wanted to have you. As much as he hated to see you with another man.

He looked about the hall, in search of a distraction. From the corner of his eye, he could see your maid hurry away from the great hall with her hand tightly clasping Hvitersk’s. Some shield-maidens were scattered about the hall, along with some warriors of his mother’s guard. He recognized one of the shield-maidens, a pretty blond woman with striking dark eyes, Torvi, he thought was her name.

Your laughter echoed about the room, loud and merry, and Ubbe grunted angrily. He saw Bjorn leaning in to tell you something and he heard you giggling. Perhaps it was only the spell of mead, but you did look dazzled.

No he could not watch this. His heart just burned.

Ubbe fixed his gaze on a voluptuous slave who was pouring mead into the cups of some warriors. His distraction had been found.

.................

Bjorn Ironside was a charming man. He was a blond, big man whose face seemed to shine gleefully every time he spoke. You did your best to attract his attention and you succeeded, for within days of his arrival, you two were almost inseparable. He talked to you of his travels and his adventures and even gifted you a strange shiny ornament he claimed he had found in the east.

The days passed smoothly. You frequented with Bjorn and his lot and purposefully ignored Ubbe, holding a grudge against him ever since the day you had had supper together. He had acted harshly and you also could not forget how he had spoilt your joy when you had spoken to him of your matchmaking attempts. Bjorn was so much more convenient, you thought. And he kissed well, too.

But still, deep in your heart, you thought of Ubbe and his warm, blue eyes. And his soft smiles when he was happy. And all the memories you two had shared.

A feast was held in honour of Bjorn, the first son of Ragnar Lothbrok. People drank mead endlessly and celebrated as usual. Music dominated the great hall, as well as thunderous laughter and incomprehensible chattering. Men wrestled and their women cheered them on.

At one point of the night, as you drank with Bjorn, you saw Margrethe coming towards you, her face bearing a melodramatic expression.

“Margrethe?”, you asked, confounded, as she begun sobbing, “What happened?”

She let out an incoherent explanation and you grew annoyed. You smiled apologetically at Bjorn and drew her away from the crowd.

“Calm yourself, my friend, and tell me what happened.”

Margrethe sniffed. “He does not want me back!”

“Who?”

“Hvitserk! He says he won’t have me back any more! He says he has a lover and does not need me any longer!”, her crying resumed, “And you said that he would fall in love me! But he won’t have me now!”

You stared helplessly at the sobbing woman, unable to find the right words to console her. You now felt like a complete fool for having given her the idea to pursue Hvitserk. Ubbe’s words of warning rang loudly in your mind and as you spotted him approaching, you suddenly wanted to run away and hide. And so you did, completely abandoning Margrethe in the process.

You watched from afar as Ubbe stopped to ask her something. She replied and he spoke again, and that seemed to calm her down. You looked around the hall in search of Bjorn, but he was nowhere to be found. You sighed tiredly, collapsed on a chair and grabbed a cup of mead. You drank greedily, feeling upset for no particular reason.

“You cannot say I didn’t tell you so”, a voice spoke from behind you and you did not have to turn your head to know it belonged to Ubbe.

“Do shut up”, you murmured, not bothering to face him. He settled on the seat next you, his hand already gripping a cup filled with precious mead. He smiled slightly and it suddenly dawned on you that he was very handsome, even more handsome than Bjorn.

“She will get over it, don’t you worry”, Ubbe said clumsily.

“I know she will.”

“Then why do you look so upset?”

“I am just tired.”

He cast a glance around the room. “Is it because Bjorn is not here?”, he asked cautiously, leaning closer to you.

“No”, you answered truthfully, not drawing back. You were just upset. For no reason. You heart was beating as fast and as loud as a war drum for no reason. And you were blushing. Again, without really knowing why.

Your faces were very close now, you could feel his breath caress your skin.

A jolly melody was being played by the musicians. People danced. Warriors, shield-maidens, villagers, they all danced. Seeing them, you felt your energy slowly rushing back to you.

Ubbe drank the last drop of his mead and stared at the empty cup sheepishly. You giggled and sat up.

“Come”, you said, tugging at his arm, “let’s dance!”

He looked at you and his eyes betrayed bewilderment and awe.

“Let’s dance”, you beckoned to him, “Just like in the old days.”

When you two were younger, you used to dance all the time at feasts. Now, you were literally dragging Ubbe away from his seat.

But you both danced that night. For the sake of the old days. And his blue eyes bore into yours, and they still did when you went to sleep, your blush having yet to leave your cheeks.

...............

The next few days you developed a fever. They healer assured your mother it was nothing serious, but she insisted on you staying confined to your bed until it passed. And while being bed-ridden, your only way to be informed of the whereabouts of the outside world was through Margrethe. She took care of you, as always, never mentioning Hvitserk, but for the first few days after the feast she did look saddened. You chose not to mention the disaster either, noticing that she was getting more cheerful day by day.

And you were happy for her. That until you learned the source of her joy, because when you did, your heart broke in two.

She came to you one afternoon, looking as fresh as a daisy. And, naturally, you had asked her why she was in such good spirits.

“Please, don’t tell a soul, (Y/N)”, she said, smiling widely.

“Do I look like I can?”, you jokingly pointed at the bed.

“Don’t tell a soul but I am pretty sure- I really do think it’s true- that prince Ubbe is in love with me”, she confessed, her cheeks as red as a berry.

You gaped at her. “How did you reach such a conclusion?”, you asked, appalled at the prospect.

“He has come to me many times this week, and”, there Margrethe lowered her voice as if she was giving away a secret of utmost importance, “I slept with him.”

You did not know why these words sounded so horrible to you but they did.

“Are you sure?”, you inquired in a feeble voice. Margrethe was not the sharpest tool in the shed, she could have been mistaken.

“More sure than I have ever been before”, she took hold of your hands, “Are you not happy for me? Isn’t that wonderful?”

You were anything but happy for her. “Quite”, you lied and drew your hands away. She proceeded to explain how she came to that joyous realization, that she had gotten the attention of the blue-eyed prince. When she finished you were on the verge of tears and the only thing you desired in that moment was to be alone.

“And there are some other news”, she added.

“What now?”

“It’s about Prince Bjorn. A rumour had started that he had a wife in Kattegat. A secret wife, whom his mother did not approve. I did not believe it at first, but now it’s confirmed by the prince himself. It’s a shield-maiden, Torvi, I reckon her name is. They say he came back to fetch her and earn his mother’s approval”, she shrugged, “Who knows what was on his mind! Men are funny creatures!”

And that was the wisest thing Margrethe had said so far.

Men are the funniest creatures.

..............

You were currently walking through the forest, alone. You had gone there to train, so you could get back in shape after being bed-ridden for so many days. You had changed your shield-maiden’s clothes for a light dress and you were now walking back home, tiredly and cheerlessly, thinking of the past few days.

Margrethe’s visit had left you completely heartbroken. And no, it was not the news about Bjorn that had had a greater impact on you. You realized that after the feast, you had not thought about him at all. Still, you did feel hurt and betrayed, for he had courted you while he was already bounded to another. Had he used you? Most likely. You were a fool.

But this was not what the hurt the most. Bjorn had hurt your pride, but the news about Ubbe had wounded your heart. Only when you heard those news did you understand your true feelings.

That all this while, all these years, you had been in love with him. But you had not even suspected it. You had had the signs in front of you, you really did, but you had blindly ignored them. You had spent all these years on meaningless romances, while you could have listened to your heart and pursued the one you truly loved. But you had been ignorant of your own heart. You had completely disregarded it.

And now he loved Margrethe. There was no reason for you not to believe her. From what she had told you, it all sounded reasonable. You could not deny it. But it still hurt so badly.

A voice shook you from your thoughts. You raised your head and saw Ubbe coming towards your direction. He looked so handsome with his braids and warrior’s cloths. You panicked for a moment and tried to adopt a decent expression, while he approached.

“(Y/N)!”, he greeted you, “finally you are better! How are you feeling?”

You murmured a reply. You did not want to face him right now, not when you knew that your love for him would be unrequited.

“You have heard, haven’t you?”, he questioned you with an urgent tone.

You thought that he meant Margrethe for a moment and your heart raced.

“About what?”

“Bjorn and that shield-maiden, Torvi. They are married, you know”, he explained uneasily.

“I know. I was told.”

“And what do you feel about it? How did you take it?”, he asked with some anxiety.

“I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control”, you whispered but you did not mean Bjorn.

“But you have to admit you did like him. You were not just interested in him.”

“I suppose I did get carried away by his charm”, you shrugged, “And what of that?”

“Weren’t you in love with him?”

“I do not think I was in love him, rather it was the thought that I could make him fall for me that made my heart flutter”, you admitted quietly, ashamed of your past feelings. How could have you let yourself be taken in by Bjorn’s charm? It was very foolish of you and you regretted it with all your heart. What a naive fool had you been!

“What does it matter?”, Ubbe said, “He still hurt you.”

“It is alright, Ubbe, really. People forget.”

“Not all of them”, he commented with a strange bitterness.

“They do, Ubbe. It is the way of things”, you said comfortingly, but you felt your heart shattering at the thought that he was probably thinking about Margrethe now.

“Did you sleep with him?”, he asked out of the blue.

“We just kissed once or twice, nothing more than that”, you answered with a small voice, taken aback by the intimacy of his question.

Ubbe grunted. “That bastard”, he spoke of Bjorn, “got away with everything he wanted”, he clenched his fists, “If I ever get my hands on him...”, he left his sentence unfinished.

You felt a sudden urge to cry. He was being protective of you, because you were his friend. Just his friend.

“You sound as if you are jealous of him, Ubbe”, you remarked slowly.

He stayed silent for a while. “I am. I am quite jealous of him”, he eventually admitted.

He would most likely mention Margrethe now. You felt tears sting your eyes and quickly looked away, not wanting him to notice you were about to cry.

“Are you not going to ask me why I am jealous of him, (Y/N)?”, Ubbe broke the silence that had occurred, searching to catch your gaze.

“No”, you replied coldly, avoiding looking him in the eyes.

“It’s very wise of you not to ask, but I will tell you whether you like it or not. I cannot hide my feelings any longer. (Y/N), my heart belongs-“

“Don’t say it! Just don’t!”, you interrupted him, heartbroken. “I don’t want to hear about it.”

You did not want to hear him speak of Margrethe and his love for her. The mere thought of them together pained you, even more when you knew it was all your fault. You had brought this to yourself, you and your nonsense about love and Bjorn and matchmaking. How blind to your own feelings had you been! You had never fathomed that you had been in love with Ubbe. Now you knew. But it was too late. Too late to have him.

Ubbe muttered something inaudible and turned to leave. You realized that by interrupting him you had hurt him and the tears you had been holding this whole time began sliding down your cheeks. You let out a soft sob. You had to support him, even if that would cause you pain. He was your friend, your family, after all. You had to hear him and advise him, he needed you.

You ran after him. “Ubbe! Wait!”, you called and he stopped in his tracks, turning to face you. His eyes held a glint of deep sadness in them. Close to heartbreak.

“Wait”, you called again. You reached out to him and squeezed his shoulders firmly. He flinched at the movement, but did not say anything. You took a deep breath.

“If you want to speak to me, as a friend”, you started, “then I will hear you, as a friend. Tell me of your heart, Ubbe.”

He made an abrupt movement and your hands dropped from his shoulders.

“As a friend, (Y/N), that’s what I am afraid of”, he extended his hands and cupped your face gently, “Tell me once and for all, (Y/N), do I not stand a chance?”

You gasped in astonishment. He stared deep into your eyes. His were so blue, so crystal, you felt as though they could pierced through your very soul. If they hadn’t already.

“A chance? Why?”, you stammered.

“I love you. I always have”, he simply said and your world stopped in its turning.

“M-me? You love me?”, you whispered, your eyes full of tears.

“Yes, you”, he confirmed, “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more, (Y/N). But I cannot. I only want to know if you could love me too”, he brushed your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment you were too dumbfounded to speak.

He loved you...not Margrethe. It was you he had meant to talk about, not her. Your heart was pounding so hard at this realization, at his confession, that you thought it was about to jump off your chest.

Ubbe was still staring at you with anticipation, his calloused hands still placed lovingly on your cheeks.

“I love you too”, you at last found the strength to whisper.

Before you could say anything else, his soft lips met yours with an astounding ferocity. He must have waited a long time for this, but, then again, so had you. For a second you stood there frozen, but then you slowly melted into his passionate kiss. You closed your eyes and sighed, savouring the precious moment.

Then something else dawned on you. It was such an unpleasant realization that you gasped and pulled away very suddenly, as you felt blood prickle your nose. All the emotions you had been through that day had overwhelmed you and now your nose had started to bleed.

“What happened?”, Ubbe asked worriedly, his eyes wide open in utter bemusement.

“Margrethe! I cannot disappoint her yet again!”, you shouted, pressing your fingers on your nose to stop its bleeding.

“What? Why?”, Ubbe asked, still confused.

“She thinks you are in love with her!”

“Me? In love with her? But how?” He seemed very shocked, alright.

“You treated her very well. You also slept with her, didn’t you?”, you stole an annoyed glance at him, unable to hide your jealousy.

Ubbe chuckled. “I have slept with many women, (Y/N), but I always was and still am in love with you”, he admitted softly.

You felt yourself blushing scarlet but you smiled.

“I love you too”, you confessed as softly as him, “But I cannot break Margrethe’s heart”, you added sadly, “I must find her a man to compensate for the disappointments I have driven her into.”

“What about that man whom you urged her to reject?”

“Aage! Yes, he must love her still, we must find him! He works as a fisherman at the docks.”

“I will go find him, you get Margrethe”, Ubbe decided and was about to walk away, when you stopped him.

“No”, you sighed in defeat, “I will go find him. I must apologize for persuading Margrethe to break his heart. It is my fault, all this mess. I must set this right.”

He nodded. You wiped your nose with the sleeve of your dress and, giving one last fleeting kiss to Ubbe, you set off to amend your mistakes.

...................

“I am going to say it again and again, my love, I warned you against creating trouble.”

“I insist, you did not say anything of the sort.”

“I did!”

“No you did not!”

You and Ubbe were currently sitting next to one of the fires of the great hall, cradling each other, and fake arguing about the whole mess you had created. It was not a mess anymore, of course. After you two had confessed to each other, you had run to the docks to fetch poor, startled Aage and had apologized to him. You had urged him to make his proposal again and Margrethe had accepted without your intervention.

All was well now. They were happy and so were you and Ubbe.

“All that matters is that it turned out for the best”, Ubbe grinned from ear to ear, “You cannot disagree on that, my love.”

“I don’t”, you giggled, “But how many years did it take us to realize our feelings! Makes me think-“

Ubbe silenced you with a kiss. You smiled and kissed back. You should probably get to used to that now. The love that you both shared.