A Ballot of the Wolf and Merc | Ubbe Ragnarsson FanFic

A Lion's Braided Faithfulness

Aberrantly fortuitous Ubbe woke to no one barging in his room, before the sun was high enough to shine bright into his alcove and without a hangover, throbbing headache or dog tired from the never ending attempt to rile a drunk varagain into bed in the wee hours of the morning. As offbeat as it was, the reticent rousing was not exactly welcoming to the prudent viking.

Ubbe budged in his linens and heavy woven blankets. Still kept to himself he felt for the heavy shawl Eleri had left, be it on purpose or accident. Ubbe keeping it discreetly in his ownership. Either Eleri would know it's missing and take it back. Or more comforting thought was she did indeed leave it much like a handkerchief to a princess. Thus in this case no one was a princess and the handkerchief in question was a thick woven cloak that smelled of sweet musky incense, dried herbs and sweet intangible nothingness.

Wadding the garment up in a ball, Ubbe stashed it back in the corner of his messy bed. Half covered by existing pillows and blankets so it blended in. Awake now Ubbe moved from the middle of his bed to the edge, taking a moment to rub the sleep from his face and tune in one the quietness. As though there was underlying doubt peace really was what was greeting him this morning.

Taking a conscious deep breath the viking itched up under his matted braid taking the moment allotted him. As prudent as the conversation had started, Ubbe felt more bemused about Eleri's presence in Kattegat. Obviously more to it than his mother would have liked her sons to know, Ubbe frivolous with the knowledge Eleri had bid to him last night in the stables over stolen mead.

Boosting himself off the bed Ubbe looked around for his trousers forgetting in the fog of another late night where half of his clothes had been tossed after he returned home. Foolishly thinking walking the drunk woman half way across Kattegat would be the hard part. The eldest heir quickly learned slipping back into a sleeping hearth was nearly as difficult as keeping Ivar under reins when he drank too much or didn't appreciate a look given on the street. Ubbe knew he had been little help, groggy on too little sleep, too much drama and feelings not quiet understood for the varagain, he did little to keep her drunk giggles quiet when she laughed at her own joke or tried to pick a fight just for the hell of it.

Smiling to himself as he dawned just enough to leave his room to grab some food for a growling stomach, Ubbe pleased with himself how content he felt for once. Something drawing him back to the obtuse statement he'd made about leaving with Eleri. Picking up nothing but the necessity, and leaving. No counter argument. No strings. No dragging thoughts of guilt. Like his pact with Hvitserk, Ubbe found the idea relieving for his stresses. Sure unorthodox, but so was the other. And a lot more cowardish. At least if he left at the stroke of midnight with no intentions like Eleri had, perhaps Ubbe could find his own purpose. Not the one he assumed here in Kattegat.

Stepping out of the wooden door frame, Ubbe still stunned how silent the place was. With his fathers return and the outburst made by Eleri in front of the town, Ubbe was sure the place would be buzzing. It wasn't though. With little sound to go off of Ubbe found himself wandering around attempting to find someone.

Avoiding Eleri's room incase someone saw him help her into bed last night, Ubbe assumed she'd be sleeping off a hangover. Not sitting on a plush wooden chair, legs crossed in it's wide seat and Sigurd sitting at her feet with his hair this way and that while she sectioned it out.

"What in Odin's name are you-?" perplexed by what he saw. Ubbe not sure he registered correctly the scenario in front of him. A hearth with low embers keeping the sitting room toasty. Sigurd looking up at him through messy unkempt bangs. Hvitserk craning around from the small cabinet in the room with string in his hand. And more than any stunning factor, Eleri merry on her way brushing through the rats nest that had accumulated in his second to youngest brother's mane of nearly white hair.