It hadn't been so long ago that the brothers had been in the Great Hall. It's the same clustered hall with men and women grouped in obnoxiously together around the long oaken tables as they pace in. Harald and Halfdan had last seen the Ragnarssons in the failed raid on Paris. Now, of course, it was different. Bjorn was the leading male here.
"Come meet my siblings!" Bjorn calls, voice proud. They follow loosely behind Bjorn, coming upon the younger Ragnarssons. Bjorn playfully pulls at Ubbe's braid, yanking his head back. Before him, there was a table of men. The oldest two playfully throwing words among one another while the third oldest boy smiles in response to their drabble.
"These are my brothers; Bjorn, Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar." He calls them in order, saving one important little number. Harald clears his throat, eyelids pulling up as to expose the roundness of his eye more clearly.
"And the lady?" He asks gruffly.
Bjorn turns his eyes back to his brothers. Between Hvitserk's legs, your back was against his chest. So clearly you sat in his arms, cradling a chalice of mead in your fingers. One of Hvitserk's hands was on your thigh, the other gently cradling your waist. He leans over your shoulder to take a swig of his drink in your fingertips.
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"That...." Bjorn looks over to Harald's curious eyes, lidded half way as he looks back to Halfdan. No one else in the Great Hall seemed the least bothered at the amount of touch, not even Queen Aslaug, who nursed her drink. "Is my sister (Y/N)."
Halfdan looks weakly to his brother when finally, Harald clears his throat. "I hardly recognized your body, (Y/N). You're all grown now!"
"Of course, Mother says I've filled out some, haven't I?" You say in a warm, playful tease gently raising up your shoulder and puffing out your lips some. Aslaug's small, amused smile peaks behind her cup.
Maybe he could have worded that better.
He moves on, avoiding the way Hvitserk looks up with playful little eyes, as if to say 'mine.' Or so the brothers think, despite the fact that Harald is well taken with a certain blonde. They avoid the playful flutter of your lashes. They turn their attention towards Hvitserk, desperate to end this interaction.
