A Ballot of the Wolf and Merc | Ubbe Ragnarsson FanFic

Descending a King

Nimble, elongated, sallow knuckles clamped down on the thick fabric of the warm cloak smothering half of Ubbe's sleep riddled face. Grimacing in his sleep, commotion from his closed bedroom door accompanied by the strong sunlight filtering through the drapery hung up, caused a fuss in the groggy man. A deep breathe in and Ubbe jerked the fabric shawl over his face. Unaware even what time it was all the heir could think of was the parched dryness in his mouth and the aching thud between his temples.

Jackhammering thwacks against his closed door made Ubbe groan at the disturbance. Reluctant to even admit he might have a hangover, Ubbe laid listless in bed hoping whoever it was would guess the normally prompt viking was elsewhere.

"Ubbe!" Sigurd's voice rang out after another round of bangs against the door, "Ubbe he's here!"

Hazed over Ubbe smacked his lips and wiped at his beer sticky lips. A sudden flood recalling the sloppy kisses spared over sloshing drinks with the Varagain the night before. Glancing down Ubbe saw the fistful of Eleri's cloak wadded in his grasp. Shaking his head the echoing of Sigurd's herald barley meant anything while Ubbe swam in befuddled recalls of the evening and very late night prior.

"UBBE!" exclaiming without any hope to hold his word, Sigurd burst through Ubbe's room fed up waiting.


"What?!" between a hiss and sharp snap Ubbe squinted when the daylight flooded in with his brother. Regretting it Ubbe realized that it was far past noon, something he hoped no one took notice of.

Deer in the headlights etched into Sigurd's normally emotionless face, his words as frenetic as his look, "Father, he's back!"

"What?!" forthwith wrought over Sigurd's message, Ubbe through the bedding from his lower half to leap out of bed.

Nodding like saying it again would spike a curse, a visible lump on Sigurd's throat moved when he swallowed his distress. Catching that same fraught look his younger brother came in with, Ubbe jumped out of bed hustling to shove his feet in leather riding pants and dawning something heavier on his flimsy tunic.

"Where's the others?" fastening his belt, Ubbe stumbled around shoving his feet into his boots trying to play catch up with his already dressed sibling.

"Hvitserk is dealing with Ivar," Sigurd stood still as his brother propped himself against him getting his last foot shoved into his boot, "Ivar wouldn't wait, word got out Father was coming near from the east edge. Ivar left immediately and Hvitserk went with to make sure he didn't do anything idiotic."

Whisking past Sigurd in a heartbeat, Ubbe was out the door and heard it clasp shut before realizing he was marching down the hall with the Varagain's cloak. Swiveling to see Sigurd catch up with him it was impossible for Ubbe to not spare another question, "Where's the Varagain?"

"Huh?" Furrowing his blond brows Sigurd tilted his head slightly to the side not following.

"The woman Mother has hired to find our Father, where is she?" Ubbe hastily snapped at his brother while the made their way with the wave of patrons obviously flocking towards the news of Ragnar's return. Ubbe brushing people away left and right as Sigurd trailed close in the crowd.

Still puzzled by Ubbe's question Sigurd only offered a misunderstanding scowl, "With Mother? I don't know what does she-"

"There!" Spotting Ivar and Hvitserk, Ubbe trotted off in their direction trying to keep eyes on them as the crowd filed around them, "Hvitserk, Ivar!"

Accosting both brother's in a booming voice, some bystanders looked back at the noise but Ubbe successfully stole Ivar's and Hvitserk's attention in the crowd. Flagging them down Hvitserk was able to keep Ivar stalled momentarily for the other half to congregate around them.