IN WHICH the only daughter of Ragnar Lothbrok is underestimated and will do just about anything to prove everybody wrong.
"it's a ceremony but the crowds
gone and you've got nothing
but your crown on. Round 2,
round 3 give me sequels. Every
time yo...
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Brienne was frozen. Before her stood the man she had heard so many stories about. Ragnar Lothbrook, surrounded by his people, had finally returned to Kattegat. Unlike her brothers, Brienne's searing blue eye's were wide in admiration and love upon seeing the man. She didn't even notice the hateful glances people were giving her father, she was far too overwhelmed to care. Ragnar's eye's were trained on Ivar immediately, he slowly approached his youngest son - placing a hand a top of his head gently. "There is no mistaking you Ivar." A sad smile rested on his lips as he took in the sight of the rest of his children, whom as it seemed, were not children anymore.
"It appears my return is not welcome. You've obviously all made your mind up about me. I cannot blame you for that... So. Well, boys, who is going to do it, then? Who's going to kill me? Well, I don't mind. Go ahead. Please."
Brienne's, smile quickly faded and her optimistic features soon morphed into confusion. This did not sound like the man from the tales her mother used to tell her. Her face was now flushed with disgust. Who was this man who stood in front of her, for it certainly was not the great Ragnar Lothbrook.
"What is happening?" She whispered quietly to Sigurd. Her brother didn't reply, he simply sent her a quick glance and moved closer to her - standing protectively by her side. "This is wrong." She mumbled again, to nobody in particular. Brienne had imagined the reunion with her father many times. Often - these scenarios involved hugs and laughter, other's involving many beautiful tears. But it was not possible for Brienne to have predicted something like this, her father begging his sons to put him out of his misery.
Ragnar now stood closely in front of Hvitserk. It unsettled Brienne to see the look on her brothers face, it wasn't quite fear - but he certainly wasn't confident either despite his previous words, Brienne knew he couldn't kill their father. "What about you, Hvitserk? You think you're a man now? I dare you. Put me out of my misery. Do it. Do it. Do it, do it."
With a gasp as Ragnar began to yell, Brienne instinctively grabbed a hold of Sigurd's sleeve. She was afraid of what her father might do. He seemed off the rails, completely unpredictable.
"Look at these people! They no longer support me! Look! Why would they? I am your leader, and I just left! What kind of leader does that, huh? What kind of king abandons his people? What kind of a father... abandon's his children"
Ragnar's sad eye's now finally landed on Brienne. He saw how afraid she was of him, he noticed the tears brimming in her eyes and how white her knuckles where as they held on to Sigurd. His words became distant to the girl, as he began to manically offer his sword to the people of Kattegat - begging them to take it and become king. It was overwhelming, to hear Ragnar say the names of his sons as he asked them to kill him. Everyone was frozen, too shocked to fathom what they were witnessing - it was too much.
Brienne inhaled deeply, willing her tears to subside. As much as she tried to paint on a brave face and pretend she was okay, she was so far from it.
She slowly pulled away from her brothers, taking one small and tentative step forward. Her eye's never left her fathers figures. The crowd began to murmur, some gasped as they saw the small, timid girl approach her father. Her presence, seemed to be enough to make Ragnar quiet down. From where he stood in front of Ubbe, he whipped his head in her direction - watching her closely as she approached him. He slowly moved his body to be properly facing his daughter. Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd shared glances, silently asking one another whether they should step in - Ivar however, with the usual smirk on his lips watched the interaction closely. Brienne never failed to surprise him.
Her gaze was pitiful as her eyes met Ragnar's, he could feel the sympathy oozing out of her. She only stood inches away from him. Her mouth opened and closed shakily, as she tried her best to say something... anything, but nothing came out. Instead, she gently placed her hands a top of her fathers. She took the sword from his hands, and dropped it to the ground next to their feet. For a moment, time stood still - for Brienne and Ragnar. Neither one new what to do, they simply stared at one another.
Quickly, Ragnar made his move and brought his arms around the girl, pulling her into a tight hug. Brienne was taken a back by the movement, not having predicted he would do such a thing. But she soon melted into his embrace, gripping the clothes on his back as she hugged her father as tightly as she could. Shamelessly, she let a fountain of tears escape her, Brienne choked out a sob as she buried her head into her fathers shoulder, she felt at home.
"Why did you come back?" A furious Bjorn had finally caught up, and made his way through the crowd, eyeing his father both angrily and suspiciously. The moment suddenly faded. Brienne separated from her father, aggressively trying to wipe away her tears and avoid looking anybody in the eyes, especially her brothers. She met Bjorns gaze briefly, but looked away immediately, it was hard to tell, but Brienne seemed to think it was pity that she was receiving.
She watched with red eyes as her Father pushed through the crowd and walked away. Bjorn was the first to follow after him, then Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd. Ivar and Brienne did not join them, although her eye's were fixed on the departing figures, Ivar kept his eye's on his sister.
Many hours had passed, and Brienne hadn't spoken a word to anyone. She sat silently in the great hall, staring at the flames that danced in front of her. Not only had Illian disappeared that day, but her father had also returned, there were too many contrasting emotions swimming in her mind that she could barely even begin to rationalise them.
Luckily, before she could begin to drown in her thoughts - her brothers (except for Bjorn) had returned. They, as well as their mother, gathered together around a large table, mead was poured into their cups and everyone remained quiet. Brienne did not drink, she simply held the cup in her hand and ran her finger around the rim as she stared off blankly.
"So... Father wants to go to England. Why do you not want to go with him? Ubbe?"
Typical of Ivar to break the silence only to stir the pot. It was obvious that he was just bitter because Ragnar had not asked him. "You know why, so shut up." Based on Ubbe's response, he too knew Ivar was just being childish.
"Is it the same for you, Sigurd? Or are you afraid of being seasick." Ivar let a low chuckle escape his lips as he continued to questions Sigurd, his smile only growing when Sigurd grew angry, he was letting Ivar get to him. Luckily, before Sigurd could respond with some putrid insult, a slave girl approached Ivar's side.
"Would you like some more ale, Ivar?" Brienne did not know her name, but she had no doubt that her brothers did. She knew what they got up to with the slave, and it disgusted her just thinking about it.
Ivar smiled up at the girl devilishly, humming a yes as she complied. As she began to walk away, Ivar smacked her arse.
Brienne slammed her cup onto the table, looking at her brother in disgust. "It is wrong to treat her like that." She shunned her brother, who feigned innocent - pouting his lips sarcastically. "Why are you so polite? She's just a slave."
