A Ballot of the Wolf and Merc | Ubbe Ragnarsson FanFic

A Lothbrok Wedding

A trill in the tree tops from birds joyful for the warm summer day. Voices quieted and only a soft murmur of insects singing on the gentle breeze fueled the ambiance of such a gathering. Hvitserk stood proud with shoulders back, though a shift in gaze from the ordain impatient for his que. Then hazel eyes back to Margarethe not but an arm length away from him at the minimal pagan altar. Adorn in nothing but a sculpted stone bowl set on the flat surface. Filled halfway with murky crimson watered down blood.

Blood from a freshly slaughtered hog they would eat later in the day. And water from the clean spring in which the Hvitserk's own mother was buried not thirty feet from up the mountain behind Kattegat. Aslaug's second oldest the motionless one as the pagan confer performed the hand binding ritual. Although his mind racing a thousand miles a minute. Margrethe the contrary of the pair. She wrung her hands together, clearly nervous as the man slowly proceeded with the ceremony. Both young adults a bundle of nerves and excitement as the last bits were falling into place.

"And who gives this woman away to her new husband?" the weathered old viking preacher asked out to the crowd.

Discussed earlier it was Lagertha to step forth from the procession of women located behind Margrethe, "I do." For as long as she live a slave and taken from her home, Margrethe had not the father or mother to fill in the ceremony. Regardless having the Queen of Kattegat offer the role was an easy choice. Cracking a shy smile Margrethe looked at Lagertha with a silent thank you before turning sparkling blue eyes on her to be husband.

On que the man initiating the ceremony took a careful touch to pinch both silver metal bands between his thumb and forefinger. Without hesitation he dunk the metals up past halfway in the blood mixture. Glistening metal partially tainted with the swine blood. Wordless he laid the smaller of the bloodied bands in Hvitserk's open palm. With the other larger band in Margrethe's opened hand. Not a sound, the drip of extra blood back into the stone bowl could be heard amongst the wedding patrons. Shaky but firm in conviction Margrethe slide the ring in her possession over Hvitserk's larger finger. The third son of Ragnar mirror her actions with a ring costumed to the females finger to match.

A crow cawed in the distance, "And so I name, man and wife." Hardly words out the ordain's mouth and Hvitserk had his lips upon Margrethe's in half a heart beat, "May the gods bless you, and give you children, and may they keep the wolf from the door!"

Cheers erupted as both sets of the newlyweds hands came up to cup one another's face. Margrethe as adamant to kiss her just declared husband as Hvitserk was to show off his wife in rightfulness. Banging and chimes from a small rustic orchestra grateful to play at the late Queen Aslaug's child's wedding. Gleeful noises from the crowd as the attending were pumped to see a new chapter unfold before them. Ubbe, Sigurd and Ivar hooted like a cluster of rabid heathens for their brother's achievement. No matter the scenario that incited this spurred wedding, all three brother's couldn't be but happy for Hvitserk's fortune with the woman all of them knew he fawned about marrying their entire childhood and well into their young adult lives.

Pitching a look over at the line of women who'd stood on the bride's side of the alter, Ubbe broke a smile on his bearded lips when his eyes laid on Eleri. Brimming bright with pure pleasure for the ceremony unfolding piece by piece before her. It was clear to the viking that the varagain probably had never in her twenty-three years of life seen a wedding prior to this one. Rosy cheeks and huge eyes taking it all in as she hooted and hollered with the rest of the circle hailing the hand binding ritual between lovers.

"And now, the bridal race!" throwing up his arms the old ordain announced the next part of the activities to set the regime for the rest of the gathering. Ubbe shying a tad away when Eleri's attention fluttered onto him. Across the small gathering he could see her giggling at the man's gawking in her direction. Bjorn's wife, Torvi, fueling the snickers when she covered her grinning mouth and whispered something in Eleri's ear. Clearly about the staring viking. Both women booming with jittery laughter but Eleri nudging the shieldmaiden's arm with a discernible eye roll. Ubbe direly embarrassed to know what was said to her.