Bridal Price

Snake Eye

Sigurd was sure that she was a good woman for Hvitserk.

After all, he never saw her turn him down a day that he was in need of anything. There was always a warm place in your bed for him. Even when he deserved to have his ass thrown out. How many times had he come to you bored?

So with that in mind, this seemed real odd to be doing. The women were filtering in and out, collecting the most loveliest of dresses made for special occasions. Your father and brothers tend to the flock– but today, he swore he saw him occupying the inside of the home.

"Sigurd, what are you doing out that door?"

He hadn't exactly known that you knew you were there. He supposed– he should have. He doddles forward with his arms folded one over another. There you were spinning as you always were, looking over your shoulder to him with hands working the wool. You weren't alone. Your sisters cluster about the room with their hands on similar things.

"Prince Sigurd!" The coo.

"Hello." He gently smiles, lowering his head as they talked among one another, losing focus. On the other hand you kept your focus even despite speaking to him. You spun the strands at the same angle and speed to ensure that the strands would not shrink or wrinkle.

"Why are you here?" Your tallest of sisters says evenly focused.

"Why he's been out there since Prince Hvitserk left raiding." Another says, curling a piece of her hair around her ear. It didn't have to be prince Sigurd, you suppose. It could have been anyone. Your sisters were obsessed with sweet princes.

"You're going to wrinkle it." You say as you finish your work, winding it about a reel. Your sister doesn't suppress her annoyed sigh as she turns back to her work.

"He's been here to watch you." She says while winding the strands at an increasing speed. "For Prince Hvitserk, isn't that right (Y/N)? He's making sure you don't go knocking around with other men."

You turn away from the conversation, pulling your long woad blue skirts. "Can I speak to you Sigurd?" You motion him out toward another area where a great cauldron boils fat green walnuts around, knocking side to side. You use your ladle to push them about.

"I don't mind you coming around." You begin. "But it must be boring outside. You could... spend time inside with me. Its lonely without him around."

He was certain you were going to ask him to fuck off. The words never came though. Instead, you simply gave him a small bobbing smile when through the doorway, a familiar face stepped out from another room.

"Ubbe?" His eldest brother had a sway in his step, looking around the room to the other ladies that sit gossiping of the most ridiculous sort of things. Later you would hear them squealing on how you managed to excite three of the princes instead of the one. You inspect your dye while the oldest prince clears his throat, leaning into the both of you.

"Goodbye, (Y/N)." Ubbe bows his head lightly and finally you look up from your work.

"Prince Ubbe." You glance as your father turns out of the doorway to his usual work outside. Perhaps something about this whole arrangement seems odd; but being a woman who always wanted to see the best in everyone, you ignore the odd waft in the home left by their presence and go about your work.

Sigurd on the other hand follows his brother out of the home. "What was that?"

They walk into the dirt streets, Ubbe's steps light while Sigurd stomps beside him. "Have you ever stopped to think of her mundr?"

"She's Hvitserk's." Sigurd walks through the dusty trail, kicking up dirt. Perhaps his other brothers were in the business of stealing women from one another– but that wasn't him.

"Of course she is. But she has other suitors to choose from." Ubbe reasons. "And he needs a little push."

Sigurd clears his throat. "Do you think that she would pick someone else?"

They burst into laughter at the thought. You were more closely wrapped around his finger than Jormungandr around Midgard.

Kattegat's pier was within eye distance.

The figures were waving around on shore. Each one a woman or man waiting for their special arrival. This time, his brothers wouldn't be on shore. Mother wouldn't be either– for she knew just who Hvitserk wanted to spend his time with.

"Have a girl waiting for you at home, Hvitserk?"

An older man was coming unfortunately home. He was greying– and found that he simply could not die. Odin had yet to pick him to join Valhalla. A fact that was clearly lamented about. He had been allowed to come by Bjorn for just that purpose.

"Yeah, a good one." Hvitserk grasps the edge of the boat, watching as the figures became clearer and clearer. Your lovely nutty brown dress comes into focus and he's sure you've worked extra hard, into your free time, to make yourself a new dress for him to enjoy.

"Makes coming home that much more worth it." He tells Hvitserk. There's a bite low in his belly– saying yes, it really would be. There is something far different from enjoying the foreign women who now sat as thralls to a free, beautiful woman that now tippy toed on the edge of the pier, waving with her long sleeves flapping in the wind.

Another part of him says that he could completely side step her. There were other women in Kattegat. He doesn't HAVE to have that one.

The second he stepped off that boat, you launch yourself onto him. His sword is forcefully forgotten, taking his hands to support your waist. Almost like a sweet child you root for his kisses, each one like small puffs of life.

"Let me breathe." He mumbles against your lips, pulling back long enough to spin you around in your new dress. Everytime he comes home, he inspects the newest of your clothes and looks about. No one has a finer dress or more beautiful wife– err, woman.

"Come home with me!" You exclaim, tugging your hand laced with his to bring him in.

"I should go see Sigurd and Ubbe first." He stumbles forward, words lightening with every sweet kiss you lay on his lap. Your hand slips between the space of his warm furs, guiding between his clothes to give him a tender massage against his hardening member.

"They'll know you're with me... please, please, please?"

There was no winning this fight. He bends down to pick up his sword, nodding to you.

"Lead the way, babe."