A Ballot of the Wolf and Merc | Ubbe Ragnarsson FanFic

Six Sides of the Same Coin

Clutched in his hand was a crisply folded piece of parchment. Bjorn scanning only the lip of the paper when one of his mother's shieldmaiden silently handed it off amidst the conclave that had happened between all five Ragnarssons when issues regarding organization to the different tribes would go during the assault on King Aelle. Ivar and Bjorn convening after a day and a half hangover. That not only induced the head splitting migraines that sat with everyone for a solid twenty four hours, but also the unrehearsed proposal on Hvitserk's part and unaccounted illness to take over Eleri.

Three days later Hvitserk not going back on his desire to marry the servant woman. And Eleri not speaking a word about her sudden sickness at such an unspurred time. Neither to Ubbe who pried for an answer. Or to Sigurd who silently pined over her with worry after she vomited one more time the next day in the seclusion of their shared room. Beit when Ubbe was out for a bit with his other siblings and the varagain made Sigurd hold his word on not telling anyone. Not Ubbe. Not Hvitserk. Not even Lagertha or Bjorn.

What came of the hectic drunken mash up was a revisit of Ivar's manifesto to alter how a traditional raid would take place. Without alcohol in them, the idea sat well with Bjorn after he and Ivar debated over a few sketches and maps. Nothing heated between the two, in fact they both came forward to the rest of the Ragnarssons to get them familiar with how this attack would play out. The variation Ivar came with something everyone was intrigued and feeling assured by.

After more than just a few morning hours wasted in the longhouse's lodge. Tables scattered with mixtures of maps, portrays on paper how the attack would succeed and some more up to date accounts from southern vikings about how the land lay. Ivar saddled on a stool beside Bjorn while Hvitserk and Ubbe stood across the hefty table. Sigurd withdrawn almost entirely with words to be spoken in the thick of all the war talk. His mouth shut while he fiddled with a worn knife of one of his brothers.

"What is it?" Ivar peered skeptical over his half brothers arm when Bjorn didn't unfold the paper and only slipped it into one of his pockets moments after receiving it.

"Nothing," Bjorn didn't look over at the viking staring at him. Shifting Ivar's pestering in the hopes to let it quell itself naturally.

"If it's nothing then show it," Ivar dictated without hesitation.

"Ivar-" Ubbe scowled at the youngest, up until now the prickly young man doing well holding a civil tongue.

"What?" Ivar looked utterly surprised at the reprimand from Ubbe, "If he's going to hide it in front of us then-"

"It's a note from Mother about the number of shields and weapons here in Kattegat," Bjorn broke the ramble with the simple fact of what boring note was scribbled down for him, "Happy?"

Struck with the frankness in his voice Ivar crossed his hands over his lap and sat back like he was being victimized, "If it was just that then you could have just-"

"Ivar-" once more Ubbe nipped his brother's angst in the bottom with a scowl, "Enough."

Ivar's lip twitched along his pronounced bow but his mouth stayed shut. Hvitserk having worked months alongside Bjorn and grew up with Ivar had kept his nose clean of any spats within the morning spent fawning over the work. Practically four hours in and it was beginning to show on them all, "Perhaps we should take a break. I think we've made great progress."

"Well, some of us have," Ivar's spite unable to touch Bjorn was instead pitched directly at the only Ragnarsson not flocked around the table. Sigurd.

"Ivar-!" Ubbe short with his brother's mouth by now. No way he wanted this tiff to begin.

"Some of us take this seriously," Ivar trivialized his brother's existence even in the room, be it inadvertently, when the confrontation with Bjorn fell flat on it's face. Sigurd a much more familiar and easy target for the youngest to spit at after the long morning.