Vikings Imagines

Arguing with Ubbe Part 1

Sweat drips down my face as I dig my feet
into the ground, bracing my shoulder against my shield. A hard blow lands against the wood, pushing my feet further into the dirt. I duck under my shield and strike at my opponent, my dulled axe landing with force against his leather chest armor. He stumbled back, but then charges at me. He crashes into me, sending me through the air and flat on my back. I roll and grab my shield, holding it over me just in time. My opponent jumps on top of me, and I shove him off with a grunt. Now he lays flat on his back as I stand over him, my sword to his neck.

The crowd around us cheers, and I drop my shield before helping my opponent up from the ground. I find a bucket of water and gulp as quickly as I can. The sons of Ragnar will be leaving to England soon to gain revenge in their fathers name. All the young warriors from Kattegat and all the kingdoms who sent warriors have been training day in and day out, preparing ourselves for the massive battles to come. Thunder rumbled in the distance, giant dark clouds rolling in over the bay. Everyone talks amongst themselves as they prepare to leave, putting their weapons back in their belts, some of them mounting their horses.

I look around as the crowd dwindles, spotting Ubbe on the field. He and Hvitserk are having a heated argument. I stay where I am, pretending to busy myself with cleaning my sword. Both men are yelling, although I cannot hear what they say. Ubbe's hands run over his hair, and he turns around, not wanting to face Hvitserk any longer. Hvitserk starts to walk away, but then turns and says something else. Hvitserk points at me, then throws his hands up in the air. Ubbe stares at me, his mouth open in disbelief. His eyes were filled with rage. The storm had now come, dark clouds hanging above all of Kattegat. The wind whipped around as the last of the soldiers left, leaving only Ubbe and I. I begin putting my shield on my horse, a light drizzle of rain now falling. Careful not to catch his attention, I peek over at Ubbe who sits by himself against a tree. Ubbe and I have been friends since our first battle together, we fought side by side the entire time. When the battle was over and the enemy retreated, he picked me up over his shoulders in excitement and thanked the Gods. I approached him back at camp, poking fun at him and we got along instantly. Unfortunately things have been tense since he and his brother started sharing the slave Margrethe. I thought Ubbe and I were developing feelings for one another until she came along. He and Hvitserk have been arguing over her since it started, leaving me in a weird spot as both of their friends. As far as I'm concerned, neither should have her. She is not a warrior, she would not be a loyal wife, and she is not even a free woman. I can't understand why they choose to chase after her.

I wipe my brow with the back of my hand, and prepare to mount my horse. Ubbe calls over to me before I step up. "Eira! Come here." He says, now standing in the field.

I meet him in the grass. He stays looking at the ground, and tosses me a sword. "One more time" he says

I sigh, readying my feet. The rain begins to pour harder as I strike at Ubbe. The sword catches his ribs, causing him to grunt in pain. He grabs my arm as I move to strike again, but this time he catches me. While holding my arm, the hilt of his sword blows into my stomach, and he sweeps his feet under mine. I drop to my knees and grab my stomach, forcing myself to stand back up. Ubbe's eyes finally meet mine, they glow with anger. He strikes again, and my sword meets his. He shoves me back, then throws his sword down. The rain now pours heavily upon us. Ubbe throws his hands in the air at me.

"So you agree with my brother, Eira? You told him that he should take Margrethe from me?!" Ubbe now stands just inches from my face, his voice booms over the sound of the rain. "I thought we were friends!"

My head whips up, the venom in my voice is apparent. "Oh is that what you thought? That we're friends? You haven't spoken more than two words to me since you decided you wanted to keep that slave as your pet!" I yell back, shoving his shoulders. "Don't be angry with me, FRIEND. You have no right!" I pick my sword up from the grass, shoving it back in its sheath. Ubbe grabs my arm, forcing me to face him again.

"And what is that supposed to mean? Huh?" He searches my eyes, rain dripping from his hair.

I pull my arm from his grasp, anger now seething from me. "How long has it been since you've spoken to me? We spent every day together, Ubbe. Then all the sudden your tramp comes along, and now everyone in your life is leaving because you can't give them the time of day. At least Hvitserk has the decency to talk with me! Check in with me! He is my friend. Not you." I begin to walk back to my horse before turning around, "and by the way, you should have talked to me, as a friend" I put emphasis on the last word. "Because if you had talked to me, you'd know I never said that to Hvitserk. I never said he should take her from you. I said you deserve better." I exhale loudly and turn away.

Ubbe grabs my arm once more, this time his eyes are soft when they meet mine. "Eira, wait. I'm sorry." I scoff at him before pulling my arm away once more.

"You wouldn't have to be sorry if you weren't so selfish, Ubbe." I say as I mount my horse. I ride away quickly, not wanting, nor caring if Ubbe followed.

The townspeople curse at me as I ride through the muddy roads of Kattegat. The rain pounds down harder now, most people retreating to their homes. The storm is beginning to gain strength, the wind knocking my horse off course. I hop off her back, and guide her to her stable.

I finally make it back to my cabin, shoving the door open with force. I grunt as I barrel through the door, kicking over a basket. I curse under my breath as I slam the door. I become more and more angry as I think of Ubbe. My hands grasp at my wooden table and I yell out as I flip it. How dare he act like he can be angry with me? I tug at my leather armor, removing my clothes piece by piece. A pot of water sits over the fire, ready to warm my bath. I curse under my breath as I ready my tub, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door.