The Tired Finch| Ubbe Ragnarsson

Chapter Ten: Knattleikr

Winifred started avoiding Ubbe at all costs. She barely looked him in the eye. He also refused to make eye contact. He was wounded, he wanted her but she refused him.

He found it hard to care for Margrethe's approval when his heart wanted the Saxon woman. He started to try to get her alone to speak to her, but she would escape him to his dismay.

Winifred was cleaning up the counter from bread crumbs when Judith glanced over at her expectedly. "Can you bring Ubbe freshwater? He just woke from his nap and asks for you to bring it." Judith seemed inclined to ask why Ubbe would want specifically Winifred, but she wouldn't entertain it.

Winifred nodded her head and grabbed a clean jug of water and climbed the stone stairs to the door. She reluctantly knocked on the door, she felt Judith's eyes on her, burning into her back.

"Come in!" She heard Ubbe call out. She tried not to flinch at the sound of his voice.

She walked in, noticing shields were hung on the wall, along with his armor and weapons. Furs cover the cold ground to keep your feet warm for when you step out of bed first thing in the morning. He had his linen tunic off, showing his tattoos and broad muscular form. She tried to ignore the tingling feeling in her stomach at the sight of him.

"I-I got water." She stated, gesturing to the pitcher in her hand.

He nodded his head and glanced to his side table. She rushed hastily over to pour water into the wooden bowl on display. She set the pitcher down and grabbed the empty one.

He walked over, towering over her. He splashed his face with the cold water while she walked around to his bed and fixed the covers. She tried to ignore how her heart raced in her chest or how Margrethe wasn't in the house currently. She was with her friend, making meals for the event. Winifred checked over her shoulder only to see he was glancing back at her as well. They both turned their heads hastily, equally feeling their cheeks heat up.

"Are you coming to the game today?" Ubbe asked her, dripping with water, he wiped his face and chest with a strip of cloth. Winifred refused to turn around and look him in the eye while his shirt was off, and while sinful thoughts were running through her mind. Her core tingled at the thought of his broad chest, however.

"G-game? What game?" She was hardly listening over the pounding of her heart.

"Knattleikr," He replied with a small smirk.

She finally turned to him, straightening out her back. He was putting on his undershirt and had a smirk on his lips at her confused look. "I've never heard of it."

"What? You've never heard of Knattleik?" He shook his head. "You do not know fun then. You'll have to come. Bring a pitcher of ale, please. You might actually enjoy yourself."

"I highly doubt it. I'm not interested in sports." She replied softly, a small smirk on her lips.

"Perhaps that's because you haven't experienced pagan sports." He replied, feeling more confident to become openly playful. "Aelflaed may enjoy it. Other children her age will be there."

She knew she had no choice, she had to go. She nodded her head and walked towards the door but she felt a feather of a touch of his grip on her upper arm. Just as quick as she felt it, it disappeared. She turned towards him and saw he felt conflicted.

"Yes, Prince?" She asked professionally. His blue eyes were so enchanting, she had to look away, she felt his callous fingertips tilt her head towards him. She felt her legs turn to jelly from the way he looked at her. No one had looked at her like that in a long time. She then noticed the silver band on his hand and pulled from his touch to his great disappointed. "If you don't need anything else, I'll be on my way." She walked away, she was relieved to make it out of the room. She set the pitcher on the table and drew a shaky breath.