Northumbria ✓

13

Aethelthryth dressed, putting on one of her dresses, and then doing her hair. She did her best to deny that she was excited for their breakfast together, even hid her smile from Elfreda when the knock came. Her eyes shined with delight as Ubbe led her to the garden. Ubbe had to smile at the way she bit her lip to hide it.

Something about her made him feel as if he was in a dream. "This is quite new for me" —she told him as she sat at the woolen blankets— "my people do not eat breakfast much." He sucked in his bottom lip before sitting next to her. Her eyes landed on the wooden plates covered with plums, cherries, and sloes.

"If you haven't deducted already, I just grabbed what I found in the kitchen," he told her as he handed her the cup with verjuice. She grinned at him, still appreciating it since nothing stayed in her stomach last night. At the memory, she frowned but quickly shook it away. She didn't exactly want to throw another tantrum.

She took a sip, "It's still very nice from you." At another one of his smiles, she almost melted. He had a beautiful smile. How could she hate that?

And as she stared into his eyes, she blurted out, "You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen." He chuckled, and she felt the redness spread over her cheeks. Now she felt stupid.

"They are after my father. People believed that they are this blue because he was a descent of our All-Father Odin. His eyes are the colour of the sky on a bright winter's day." Aethelthryth nodded. These stories about their Gods always fascinated her. Since, her father said that they arrived at their shores on ships that looked like dragons.

"Do all of your brothers have blue eyes?" Ubbe's thoughts flashed to Sigurd. He didn't have blue eyes. "Yes," he answered back. She nodded before butchering the plum in half. She offered him one of the halves, and he gladly accepted. He wanted to ask after who she had her eyes but stopped himself. The topic of her father was still too raw.

"Do you have more brothers than Ivar and Hvitserk?" Ubbe asked himself why, was she this curious. And who told her about Hvitserk. He knew she saw them training together, but he never came up in a conversation they had together. He wouldn't put it past Ronja, who always opened her big mouth.

He nods, "Yes, I have a half brother Bjorn who is currently the ruler of Kattegat." Not that he would be residing there for long. He was already readying his ships for another raid on foreign lands. Ivar and Bjorn reached a mutual deal, while one of them raids the other rules Kattegat. Ubbe didn't put it past Gunnhild and Ronja, who had the most say in this agreement. The two men actually fought over the title until Ronja threw a knife at Bjorn.

"Who is exactly Irvina?" Was that jealousy he heard? He looked at her closer as her delicate hands put the stones in fruit in a pile. No, probably not. He threw a couple of sloes into his mouth before gulping heavily. He soon found out that they dried his mouth more than he expected. He quickly gulped down the verjuice. He didn't like the taste of that either, but Elfreda told him that Aethelthryth liked it, and he didn't want to ruin the peaceful mood.

His fist slightly bumped into his chest as he cleared his throat. Aethelthryth watched him with amusement. "She is a Queen of Trondheim. I am here in her stead while she and her lover take care of her kingdom," he stated the word lover casually, and he watched her exhale heavily. So she was jealous, he thought with triumph.

His hand reached for more sloes, but she stopped him. Her fingers wrapped around his, and she chuckled, "You should not eat many of them." He nodded, moving on to the cherries.

"What happened to your mother?" He cursed himself as he watched the grieving look pass through her eyes. But instead of the tears, she gave him a sad smile, "She died six years ago when Aelle usurped the crown me and my mother were trying to escape. She died a few months after our escape. Life of a fugitive wasn't for her."

This time he reached for her hand, laying his across her warm one. He wanted to tell her how Aelle died, his death cruel. But then she would get mad that they killed her father and were unpunished. "It's alright. I have heard he suffered." His lips purse as he nods. He did, and now they returned and killed her father, which made her suffer.

"What about your mother? I know the story of your father, but what about the rest of the family?" He scrunched up his nose at the thought of how many he had lost.

Slowly he lowered himself on his back before answering, "My mother slept with Ragnar, my father, while he was still married to Lagertha, Bjorn's mother. She became pregnant and arrived at Kattegat. I think her presence set many things into motion. Lagertha left Ragnar and took Bjorn. I think father was heartbroken from not being able to see his son grow. After I was born, they had three more children," and he told her about his brothers, even Sigurd and his jealous but gentle soul, Hvitserk with his funny habits, he even told her about Margarethe how much she divided them. And how guilty he felt not being able to help her. He told her about Torvi how painful it was after her death to not see her wake up beside him. And about his unborn child and how deeply he regretted staying with Bjorn drinking instead of taking his wife to their hut.

He remembered how desperate he was to know if she was alright and then how it all shattered as Ivar told him what happened. He didn't even mourn his mother as much as he did her. And when he finished, she gave him another sad smile, "Sometimes life takes more than we are ready to give." She laid her hand on his chest, and in the moment of quiet, he realized that he didn't feel the need to cry.