12 Days of Yule

Green Is The Color Of Jealousy (Eivor/Vili/Ivarr)

Wherever Ivarr looked, there was snow.
As a child he had enjoyed it greatly, always dragging Ubba and occasionally even Halfdan outside with him but now it only served to worsen his already bad mood.
His fingers were cold and numb where he was holding the reigns and while the cloak he had stolen from Eivor kept the rest of him warm, it still annoyed him to no end.
This whole journey did actually.

He remembered the day this whole disaster had started.
Ivarr had been resting next to Eivor on the bed while the taller man was reading some book he had found on his travels, simultaneously stroking Ivarr's hair.
The Dane had just been starting to doze off when there had been knocking on the door frame and a second later Randvi had appeared, holding a letter.
"From Vili", she had said, placing it within Eivor's reach before leaving again.
Ivarr had seen the way Eivor's face lit up when she mentioned the name, the way Eivor had almost hit him in the face as he had hurried to grab the letter.

Now here they were on their way to Snottinham, Eivor smiling like a drunk and Ivarr frowning as he tried to ignore the way his heart stung.
He had a bad feeling about this.

And as they eventually met Vili, that bad feeling only worsened, jealousy rearing it's ugly head as he watched the two childhood friends reunite.
Ivarr had never been happier to fight but after the battle was won and the Dane went to look for his lover, Eivor was gone.

Night had fallen when the door to their room opened quietly, Eivor making his way over to the bed as if he hadn't just been gone half a day without as much as a word.
He had dragged Ivarr here only to leave him alone with people he didn't know.
When all of them had crowded around their Jarl, whom he also didn't know, Ivarr had left and returned to the room he shared with Eivor.
"ástin mín"
Eivor's voice was as quiet as his movement, probably because he thought Ivarr was asleep.
But when he tried to slip underneath the furs, stroking his hair away so he could kiss his temple, Ivarr pushed him away before turning onto his other side.

"What's wrong?", Eivor frowned, not able to fathom what was up with his lover but for Ivarr it was like he was just feigning innocence.
Maybe with a little more thought he could've realized that Eivor would never leave him but then again no one had ever bothered to stay so who could blame him really?

It wasn't easy to be with someone when there was a reputation to uphold and besides that Ivarr had always struggled to hold on to people, too proud to admit his mistakes.

There had once been a girl, many winters ago and yet he remembered her well because she had tried and understood and stayed.
But she had fallen in battle long before he had even met Eivor. Maybe it had been her death that had made him so paranoid. Maybe he just didn't want to lose anyxone else.

But he was drifting off, his thoughts wandering to everyone who had ever left him.
How could he know that Eivor was different?
How could he ignore the way he had looked at Vili?

Maybe this tall, dark-haired, handsome man could offer Eivor more? Certainly he could.
In many ways Ivarr was damaged, he had been told often enough to at least consider it.
Vili on the other hand was whole, calmer, less dependent, less violent, simpler.

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt until suddenly he felt sick.
The Dane grabbed his cloak-Eivor's cloak-, pushing the Norse away when he tried to stop him from leaving.

Eivor knew better than to go after the Dane.
He still had no idea what was wrong, which made the whole situation even more difficult but they would have to figure all that out once Ivarr returned.

Morning came and when he opened his eyes, Eivor found the other side of the bed empty.
Ivarr hadn't returned.
The Norse sighed but he wouldn't have the time to go looking for him now, not with everything that they had to prepare for Hemminger Jarl's funeral.

He did however tell Vili briefly, asking his friend to look out for his lover and tell him, should he find him.
At some point Eivor just decided that the Dane must've returned home to Repton.

That didn't excuse the night with Vili, of course, something that weighed heavily on Eivor's chest.

It had started off normally enough, with Vili inviting him for a drink. 'For old times sake', he had said and Eivor, stressed by too many things at once had agreed, hoping to catch a break from everything.
But as more and more empty cups started lining their table, their eyes met and Eivor felt some kind of gravitational pull.
When Vili told him that he wanted him, Eivor didn't refuse.

He would try to excuse it later, blaming it on the ale, the stress, Ivarr's departure and even his usual unwillingness to sleep with him.
But in the end the outcome was the same. He had betrayed Ivarr but surely the Dane had done the same at some point, right?

When morning came and Eivor woke in Vili's arms, his heart ached and so he slipped away before the older could notice.

Ivarr returned that same day but Eivor couldn't bear to look him in the face.
Despite everything, the reputation, the strong act, Ivarr was vulnerable, fragile in the emotional sense.
He didn't trust many people with his heart but he had given it to Eivor just for the Norse to break it without his knowledge.

When Ivarr tried to kiss him that night, clearly seeking the affection he had returned for, Eivor moved away.
And then he told him of what had happened with Vili that night.

As he spoke he could see the emotions Ivarr went through: sadness and then anger.
But he didn't scream at Eivor, didn't even say anything, he just grabbed his things and left, disappearing into the night.