Growing up in KatteGat the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok were told stories of the mad King and his daughter, Khalessi mother of dragons. And how they concord the seven kingdoms.
Upon a stroll along the waterside two of the brothers, Ubbe and Sigurd disco...
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Hvitsirk stood in shock as the small blonde haired boy stood in front of the Princess. He couldn't have been older then 7, and his hair was braided like a Viking. He put together all the pieces of the puzzle in his head. That was his son.
He had always wanted kids, but the gods hadn't blessed him with any. Yet here he was. His very own son. Hvitsirks eyes sparkled in the light of the fire as tears threatened to fall.
He had missed everything. His first words. His first steps. Everything.
"Lothbrok? Who's son?" Bjorn asked, turning to the brothers that sat at the table with him. Most sat holding horns of mead in their hands, but one never. And that was the father.
"Why Hvitsirks of course" the dark haired boy laughed, clapping his hands together deviously. Ivar did admire the lady that bared his brother a child, and he was jealous. But of course he wouldn't show it.
Hvitsirks wife's head shot towards him, her eyes filled with rage as she looked at him. Obviously when Arianne slept with him, it was before they were married. And she didn't seemed to happy he had a child.
Unsure of what to do, Hvitsirk slowly left his family's side and walked towards Ævar. With a nod of approval from his mother, the small boy ran towards his father. Engulfing him in a long awaited hug.
Arianne watched as the room erupted in cheers for the reunion of father and son. It brought her joy to know how happy it had made the two. Except Margethe seem very unpleased, staring at them in disgust.
Sitting around the large table, Arianne was introduced to the rest of Hvitsirks brothers. Bjorn, Ubbe, Sigurd and Ivar. All very welcoming, except from Ivar, who still had an icy gaze.
He didn't hate her, nor did he dislike her. In fact he quite liked her. She was beautiful, her white hair braided perfectly as if hung over the furs around her shoulders. She amazed him.
However he was jealous of his older brother. How he was the one to have been with her. Sitting around the table he noticed the looks his other brothers would give her, even if they were married. But one brother wasn't, and the looks from Sigurd infuriated Ivar.
"Will you stay a while Arianne?" Aslaug asked her, pulling her away from a singular conversation with Tyrion. The rest of the conversations at the table simmered as they awaited her answer.
"I wish I could your majesty, but I have a kingdom of my own to get back to" Hvitsirk and Ævar shared a look with one another. Both believing they would be pulled away from each other again.
"Will you be taking him with you?" Hvitsirk questioned, looking down at the blonde boy.
Arianne's eyes looked at her son, his smile, his happy eyes. He loved being with his father, she couldn't bring her self to destroy his happiness. No mother could.
"He's your son Hvitsirk. If he wishes to stay with you I will allow it. I will be leaving at first light, if he does not wish to stay I shall meet him by the dock" her voice broke slightly at the thought of leaving her son.
Without waiting for an answer she quickly rose from her seat and headed for the door. Tyrion and her soldiers following behind. She trusted Hvitsirk, she knew that him and his brothers wouldn't let anything happen to Ævar.
As she walked through the dark streets of the village she was met with the large shrieks from Drogon. His dark shadow flying above the village, landing on the cliff above.
"Amazing creatures" came a deep voice, followed by the sound of dragging across the dirt. Arianne looked down towards the sound to see be met with the deep ocean eyes of Ivar.
She pitied him, unable to walk his entire life. She was amazed he had lasted so long. In Essos they would leave you for dead if you were deformed. Yet Ivar seemed strong, stronger then his brothers.
"Indeed they are" Arianne replied watching the silhouettes of her dragons in the clouds.
Ivar couldn't help but steal a few glances at her, she was unlike any woman in Kattegat. And his brothers had practically been with them all. They always picked his brothers. Never him. No lady would want to be caught dead with a cripple.
Arianne couldn't help but notice Ivars sudden discomfort as he shifted in place. He looked lost in thought. Thoughts that seemed to be overwhelming his emotions.
"Your father was a great man" Arianne spoke softly, breaking the silence between them. Ivars eyes widened, turning his attention from the beasts to her. White strands of her hair blew into her face from the wind.
"He was. And a great man deserves to be avenged" Ivars voice was strangely deeper then usual, the memories of his father clouding through his mind. The times he would sit upon the throne with Ivar on his lap discussing their next raid.
