Beauty and the Beast (Ivar x OC)

PART THREE

PART THREE

The afternoon was hot; the princes used it to their advantage when their guests finally departed, moving to the training grounds. The arrow flew between Sigurd and Hvitserk, startling them both. They had been locked sword to axe. Glancing around to where Ivar sat on his stump, he smirked as he lowered his bow.

"Ubbe said you met our new little friend," Hvitserk said, smiling as he broke away from Sigurd and approached his little brother.

Ivar shrugged. "She seems perfect for his taste in women."

Ubbe was guzzling mead nearby and paused at the comment, his gaze going from Ivar to Hvitserk over the rim of his cup. He was shirtless, sweat and dirt streaked from their sparring.

"You seemed pretty interested," he muttered. Ivar's eyes darted to Ubbe and he sneered. Ubbe grinned back as he set his cup down. "Hit a nerve there, did I, Ivar?"

The youngest brother chewed the inside of his cheek. Ivar wouldn't rise to the bait. He wouldn't. He glanced at Hvitserk who held his sword up towards him, he drew his own. "You didn't."

Ubbe chuckled, Sigurd was snickering and Hvitserk was smiling at him. "You don't need to hide it, little brother."

He rolled his eyes. They were fixated on something that wasn't there. He meant it, the girl, Charlotte, would be perfect on Ubbe's arm and it'd give them the marriage tie he knew his father wanted. It wasn't like Torvi was his wife or anything. "Says my brother who turns into an eager puppy at the sight of her?"

Hvitserk had the decency to look at little mollified as he scratched the back of his neck, casually shrugging. "She is pretty, if Ubbe is not interested, I would gladly spend my days with her under me."

"Until you get bored?" Sigurd prodded.

Hvitserk rolled his eyes. "I make no promises."

Ivar felt his anger rise at his brother's casual attitude towards marriage and then straying. Ubbe approached, hitting Hvitserk across the back of the head. "Don't even try it. It's bad enough you can't even remember propriety in greeting her."

Hvitserk grimaced, rubbing where Ubbe had hit him as the eldest Ragnarsson turned to the youngest. Ivar frowned at his brothers, confused. What had Hvitserk done? Ubbe and Ivar stared at one another quietly for a moment. Ivar wasn't the kind of man to look away from his brother's intense gazes, he knew the men underneath, but he did this time. He was worried Ubbe would see the annoyance at himself in his eyes.

He'd let the young woman get under his skin earlier. He wouldn't admit it, but he was curious about her. Ubbe had spent the most time with her over the past twenty-four hours, and he itched to ask about her. It was entirely foreign to him. Freydis had come to him, he had never needed to chase her. Women only sought him if coin was involved, then the added curiosity of being with the crippled son of a living legend.

He knew why, but he never let on. It was better to act indifferent, like it didn't bother him.

A young woman like Charlotte, she hid her reaction to his legs well, she hadn't rebuked him, hadn't teased, or shown him anything but politeness and yet, he still doubted she found his condition at all appealing. She was no doubt laughing about it now to the brats she was related to on their journey home. He didn't trust women. His mother, yes, but she was different.

"What you four prattling on about?"

Floki's giggling broke the silence that had settled over the four brothers.

"We were discussing which of these three fools were going to woo the young miss Charlotte," Sigurd said, smirking at the other three as they all turned to look at him murderously. He held his hands up in mock surrender, leaning against a tree.