Vikings Imagines

Decisions to be made Part 8

Aslaug's eyes linger on Hvitserk and I as we enter the hall, a small smile playing at her lips as she drinks from her horn. Hvitserk leads me to a table with his brothers as I watch Aslaug curiously, wondering if she'll call out that her son brought the help to a feast, even if I am hired help. She waves over one of her handmaidens, whispering something in her ear before turning her eyes back to mine and pointing. I quickly turn my gaze away, careful not to test Aslaug's limits. I sneak one last glance at her before turning my attention to the table in front of me. Hvitserk pulls my chair out for me as we say our hellos and settle in, large cups of ale and plates of food piled high sat down before us. Before long I'm on my second cup of mead, laughing and smiling with the sons of Ragnar. I listen as they become deeply immersed in conversation, enjoying the fact that they're all getting along for once.

A hand on Hvitserk's shoulder grabs my attention, both of us looking up to see Aslaug's maiden from before standing in front of us intently.

"The Queen would like a moment with you." She says quietly, leaning in to Hvitserk's ear. He dismisses her before looking to me, grabbing my hand between his. He places a gentle kiss on my forehead before standing from his chair and disappearing behind a curtain.

I turn my attention back to the sons of Ragnar who continue their conversation, trying to remain distracted from whatever Aslaug and Hvitserk could be discussing. Bjorn and Ivar dispute battle strategy, debating tactics back and forth. I quickly finish my ale, motioning for my cup to be filled again. My eyes meet Ubbe's for a moment before he looks away, finishing his ale and standing from the table. I exhale in defeat as he walks away without saying anything to me. So much for everyone getting along.

Enough time passes for me to become concerned about Hvitserk, who has yet to return from Aslaug's private chambers. The mead flows freely through my veins now, having lost count of how many cups I've had while listening to Ivar, Sigurd, and Bjorn, who have now all scattered across the hall to find women and new conversation for the night. I tap my foot restlessly as I sit alone watching everyone around me having fun. I spot Ubbe once more as he lurks in the shadows of a corner, sipping from his cup with a grim look on his face. We lock eyes, and for once, he doesn't look away. I want to ask him why he's been so cold to me, why he's been so distant. I want to know why he thinks he can tug my emotions back and forth, why he thinks it's okay to kiss me after knowing Hvitserk and I are involved. With some extra courage, courtesy of the mead, I begin to stand from the table to confront him, but am caught off guard by Hvitserk reappearing from behind the curtain.

My eyes leave Ubbe's and follow Hvitserk as he makes his way to another table, followed by men I don't recognize. He stumbles as he walks, sloshing his mead on to the ground. Great. He's piss drunk. A hearty laugh leaves his lips as one of the men grabs a thrall, pulling her on to his lap. I bite my lip as I watch him, waiting for him to turn his attention to me, to call me over, but it doesn't happen. He finishes his mead, throwing the cup on the ground. The men around him cheer as the thrall leaves the first man's lap, throwing herself into Hvitserk's. My heart drops to my stomach as I take in the scene before me. A servant brings another cup of mead to Hvitserk and I watch as he throws his head back, gulping as much of it down as he can before the thrall takes the cup from him and begins drinking from it herself. His eyes shoot to a smiling Aslaug, who has re-emerged as well, before his arm wraps around the thrall's waist as he pulls her closer. His bloodshot eyes finally meet mine, the happiness draining from his face. For a split second it feels like it's just us two, the rest of the world melts away. I stare into his eyes, begging him to come to me.