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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The wind blew through the white locks of Arianne Targaryen as they set sail for their second destination. Wessex. By now King Ecbert would have been informed of King Aelle's passing, possibly even told of the dragons. The brothers believed they would be assembling an army.
With Tyrion by her side, Arianne looked out upon the water, the sun glistening in the unsettled waves. It was beautiful, the places she had visited were beautiful.
Being trapped in one place for her whole life, getting to explore and visit other villages and cities was extraordinary. Essos was gorgeous, no one could deny that. The view from the cliffs edge was enough to settle any nerves. How Arianne missed her home.
However on the opposite side of the boat, two brothers sat gazing at the beauty of the Queen. Ivar had admired her every move since she had joined them, Hvitsirk sneaking glances whenever his wife was not looking. He was loyal, a great husband, but no one could deny that the mother of his child was a goddess. Possibly Freyja herself.
Noticing his brothers eyes sharing the same passion as his, Ivar decided to spark a conversation between the two. "Do you regret it?" He asked cockily.
Stunned by his brothers sudden actions, Hvitsirk cleared his throat while averting his gaze. "Regret what brother?" He returned, his eyes meeting those of Ivars.
The youngest brother chuckled, "Marrying the slave, I can see Hvitsirk, she intrigues you" he explained gesturing his eyes towards the Queen. "She intrigues me too"
Suddenly just by those words, all Hvitsirks questions had been answered. Those days he spend searching for answers, which of his brothers would bare this child. It was sitting in front of him the whole time. Ivar, the conniving son of a bitch, would father the most feared child.
"Maybe" he finally replied, watching the pair closely. Seeing the small glances they would throw at each other, the way Ivar would run his tongue along his bottom lip when her dress revealed the skin of her thigh.
Though it made him jealous, frightened even, Hvitsirk wished them both happiness. Even if that meant with each other, though he was sceptical if his brother was capable of loving anyone but himself.
"You love them both don't you, your Grace?" Tyrion spoke up, drawing the girls attention towards him. She cocked her brow at him questionably, which only made him laugh. "The sons of Ragnar, Ævars father and the cripple"
"What makes you assume such things Tyrion?" She asked, looking down to face the man.
"I may be a drunk, but I'm no fool Arianne. I see the looks you share with them" he explained, turning to face the group of brothers at the back of the boat.
This got Arianne's mind thinking. Did she really love them? Both of them? She was unsure of her feelings towards Hvitsirk. She loved him for blessing her with Ævar, though she wasn't sure if she was in love with him. Ivar on the other hand interested her, surviving with his deformity amazed her. He was handsome like his brother, but was far more wiser.
That night they arrived on the borders of Wessex, many warriors sharpened their weapons, gathered food or drunk to the war to come. Arianne joined the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok in a feast, one to celebrate the death of king Aelle.
It was a large feast, many different types of food lay out on the table. The men eating it like rabid dogs. She had to admit it was a rather rare site, for once the brothers were not arguing. Which she learned they do a lot.
"So Arianne" Bjorn began, grabbing the girls attention before continuing. "When we are finished avenging our father, what will you have us do?" He asked, his siblings humming as if they were wondering the same thing.
"That's right, what will you have us do? Hm? We are not slaves remember" Ivar added, drinking down his chews with mead. Arianne was not a fan of mead, found it had a foul taste. Wine was more her specialty.
"I am aware you're not a slave Ivar, couldn't imagine the son of Ragnar Lothbrok waiting on me hand and foot" she smiled, her comment causing the brothers to laugh.
Though one person in the room remained silent, judging the Queen with her eyes. Margrethe, Hvitsirks wife. She didn't enjoy the presence of Arianne, nor did she like the fact that she made her husband laugh. She was a very jealous lady.
"I have a goal in life, as I suspect all of you. I simply want you to assist me in taking back what is rightfully mine" she explained. A smirk grew on Ivars face, he smelt war in the air. Everyone knew Ivar longed for power, bloodshed, revenge. The opposite from her, yet they matched rather well.
"The seven kingdoms, and you are going to rule it by your self?" Ivar asked curiously.
Arianne giggled, "no my dear Ivar, I shall find a suitable king to rule with me" she smiled back at him.
Awkwardly the brothers panned their eyes at one another. Unsure if that was an invitation for Ivar to be king, which for everyone would be a horrible choice. But only Hvitsirk knew, that was exactly what was going to happen.
Ivar would become King of the seven kingdoms, alongside Arianne, Ævar and the demon that they would produce. Frankly it scared him, the world be destroyed and he knew it.
