Right Place, Right Time

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❝  he's torn between his honor and the true love of his life,he prayed for both but was denied ❞

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he's torn between his honor and the true love of his life,
he prayed for both but was denied


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Hands of Sorrow by Within Temptation

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☽ ❅ ☾


"So, who wants to be king?" Ragnar's voice was almost a whisper, making everyone quiet. "You know how it works!"

The man took the sword from scabbard and threw it away, he breathed calmly as he sought voice inside himself to express what was trapped in his throat "Who wants to be the fucking king?" was what echoed in Ragnar's mind as the winds swayed his long gray beard.

"If you want to be king, you'll have to kill me. Take it!" Ragnar went to Goredr, offering the sword to him already bowing slightly, his refusal to reply. "You? No? Is that you? No? SOMEONE?"

The great viking passed the sword from person to person but no one dared take it from the king's hand, no one would want to carry the responsibility of the crown when they had someone to do it for them. Ragnar screamed as loudly as his exhausted voice could but he had no answer so he walked to the center of the rock, and with all his strength thrust his sword into the sandy ground of Kattegat.

"WHO WANTS TO BE KING?"

The villagers' frightened eyes weighed on Ragnar's tired blue eyes, the man was waiting for some response or clemency to put an end to his suffering. As no answer came, the king sobbed and went to his sons, cunning and defiant.

"What about you, Sigurd? Do you want to be king?" he whispered, taking the young man's look of pure hatred in response, making him look at the other son "Do you want to be king, Ubbe? Kill me and you will be king. There is! KING UBBE!" Ragnar slapped the young wolf's face "What are you waiting for? Are you afraid? BE. A. MAN!"

But all that Ragnar Lothbrok had managed to get out of his own gaze, Ubbe didn'texpress anger, only confused feelings. On the one hand he wanted to take his father away from his suffering, but on the other, he wanted only to heat his fears in the old lion's hair, he was being betrayed by the love he felt for his father at that hour.

Ragnar stroked Ivar's soft hair and moved away, Ubbe took a deep breath and took a few steps forward, holding his own sword that he had not even realized was in his long hands, the young man wanted to defend the honor of the family and Ragnar, look around and find those hungry blue eyes, knew that. The king opened his arms waiting for some movement of the wolf but his heart was not looking for war, it looked for redemption.

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