Ursula looked down at the ring perched on her finger. Many emotions ran rampant as she tried to figure out why Ivar placed it there of all places.
If it had been still 2018, Ursula would immediately assume that Ivar had given her a promise ring or had been proposing to her. However, here in the Viking era, such a thing as engagement or wedding bands are only exchanged during the wedding. Not before.
She definitely didn't want to drop that on Ivar especially after just learning that she's from the future. It had been shocking enough as it was and until he expressed a desire to know more, well, she is going to give him some space and time to process it all.
Her hands halted as the sounds of raucous laughter, thundering footsteps, and the familiar sound of Ivar moving across the ground, made their way to the longhouse. Ursula sat in a large chair wrapped and cushioned in furs near the fire as she continued to make new clothes for both her and Ivar. Speaking of Ivar, he had left shortly after dagmal to train with his brothers and Ursula saw that it is now after noon.
Setting aside her work, Ursula got to her feet her knees emitting a crackling pop as she moved towards the cupboards just as the door opened. Goosebumps appeared as the chilly air touched her skin but ignored it as she grabbed two tankards and made her way to fill them up.
"Well, well, well. You seemed to have done some decorating Ivar." Came the cocky, lighthearted voice of Hvitserk as he plopped down at the table.
Ursula heard Ivar scoff in amusement before glancing to him pridefully puff out his chest feeling her own sort of amusement. "That is thanks to Hyrrokkin brother. I had very little part the process."
"Is that so?" She grew unbearably uncomfortable at the leer Hvitserk directed her way and it most have shown because Ivar gave a glare of death towards his elder brother.
"Yes, brother. And you do well to keep your eyes to yourself before I permanently remove them." The growl of Fenrir is prominent in Ivar's high, clear voice as he kept glaring at Hvitserk.
Ursula said nothing as she set the tankards down before laying a hand on Ivar's shoulder squeezing it gently. She could feel him relaxing just enough for it to be slightly noticeable to her trained eyes. Hvitserk, however, watched the interaction with darkly suspicious eyes as he took a sip of his mead.
"Is that a ring I see on your slave's finger Ivar?" Came the disbelieving tone of the blonde just as Ubbe entered the longhouse.
"Yes." Came the simple reply from Ivar as he kept up his glare looking away just enough to give a nod to Ubbe in greeting.
"What's this about a ring?" Ubbe sat down as he then took notice of the elegantly simple ring on her ring finger before she limped away to get another tankard of mead.
Ursula felt Ivar's burning gaze on her as she filled up the tankard with practiced ease. "Am I not allowed to treat my slave with gifts simply because I can? One ring is nothing."
Many would be outraged at such a statement, but Ursula knew better. A small genuine smile appeared on her face just as she turned to face the brothers once again. She placed the tankard in front of Ubbe getting a nod of thanks before he took a sip of his own.
Just before she left to continue her work, Ivar gently grabbed of her wrist well aware of the gazes of his elder brothers as he did so. "Have you eaten?"
Her heart warmed at the subtle warm concerned undertones in his otherwise calm voice. She nodded and softly said, "I ate some berries earlier. I'll be fine until nattmal."
Ursula knew that even if Ivar kept his face as neutral as possible, his eyes were a completely different story altogether. Concern, protectiveness, warmth, and an immense plethora of other emotions swirled through his wolfish eyes almost entirely like a rainbow of blues. But he must have found what he needed. Ivar's features softened enough for her to notice as he gave her a nod. He then reluctantly released her wrist subtly rubbing his thumb on her palm as he did so.
She knew her face had been, at the very least, the barest hints of red all because of the smug smirk on Ivar's handsome face. A small smile pulled at her lips as she walked back to her chair. It went away quickly after a sharp intense pain went through her right knee traveling throughout her leg continuously. Her hand immediately grabbed onto the first thing within reach, which had been the countertop of the larder. Her weight is then transferred to her left leg to alleviate the pressure on her right one.
The tightening of her jaw helped out hold back the wince threatening to escape and her wrist is then held into a firm grip of a familiar hand. Her eyes looked down to Ivar as he got himself to his knees looking at her with an intense, chaotically focused expression. "What's wrong?"
The various shocked expressions on Ubbe and Hvitserk's faces would have made her laugh any other time but now. "It's my leg. I just need to get to my chair, and I'll be fine."
Unintelligent sounds came from the other two men as Ivar carefully helped Ursula to her chair. Her left hand gripping the nearest flat surfaces it can find, and Ivar's hand on her elbow guiding her while moving along on his knees without any complaints. He even snarled at his elder brothers when they moved to help Ivar help her as well. If it were any other situation, Ursula would be laughing until she was wheezing from lack of air.
"Ubbe, Hvitserk," Ivar managed to partially snap the elder brothers out of their daze, but not completely. "In the cupboard to the left, there are various jars of herbs and salves. Bring them to me."
When they didn't move immediately, Ivar bared his teeth at them impatient and annoyed all at once. "NOW!"
Just as he did so, Ursula grabbed the back of her chair and carefully sat down in it, Ivar ever hyper-vigilant at her side. She immediately started rubbing at her knee as Ubbe and Hvitserk brought over her medicinal herbs and salves. "The peppermint and ginger paste, please."
Ivar handed the pale green mixture to her with his nose crinkling at the scent of the salve as she applied it to her knee, calf, and ankle. Ursula knew that it is time to use the hot spring that she found soon. The heat of the water would do wonders for her joints and muscles even when the salves she made are just as effective.
Ivar stayed at her side watching as she applied the mixture to her now pale tanned skin. If it were any other man, she would assume that he was looking just to be lecherous. With Ivar, however, he is actually learning by watching her apply the salve in key places to massage and loosen the tightened tendons, ligaments, and muscles. Which really surprised her when she first noticed it, and she had gotten a raised eyebrow look from Ivar when she showed her confusion.
"I know better than to touch you without permission. If there is one thing I am not, it's a lecher." Is what he told her, and it only made her feel much more deeply for the younger man.
Ursula wiped her hands off with a handwoven towel as Ivar closed the jar holding the salve. Both Ubbe and Hvitserk sat in front of them, silently watching the interaction with various forms of disbelief, suspicion, and shock.
Her golden hair fell across her left shoulder as she turned to Ivar asking quietly, "Do you need me to ...?"
He shook his head at her, his jaw clenching stubbornly glancing at his brothers before looking towards her. "Not right now. Later."
Understanding his hidden words, she nodded continuing to clean her hands before reaching to grab her sewing project. Ivar handed it to her as he sat in his own custom-made chair. One that would cradle his body as to not agitate his joints any further than necessary – especially since his bones were a bit weaker than most. Ursula had commissioned Halfnir in secret to make it as one of her unofficial courtship gifts. It took him a week, but once it was finished, she helped him bring it to the longhouse. When they got there, Ivar had been waiting for them.
"Where have you been?" Came the dark hints of his voice as he glared at her from under furrowed brows. Anyone else would have crumbled in fear and anxiety, but she did not.
"I went to get your gift Ivar." Ursula looked him straight in the eyes and folded her hands in front of her as she stood in front of the, at that moment, emotionally unstable Prince. "And I came back to have it placed by the fire."
Wide turbulent, gleaming wolfish eyes turned to look at his new chair and he appeared to turn to stone as a result. It had been – and still is – a handsome gift made from solid wood reinforced with metal braces cushioned on all sides with thick rabbit and deer furs stuffed to the brim with feathers and spun wool.
Ever so slowly, Ivar made his way to it. Reverently touching – stroking – the furs, testing the softness and firmness of the cushions. He turned to her eyes full of caged tears, unspoken words, and intense emotions as his hands tightly gripped the arms of the chair. Ursula gave him a small smile full of warmth and understanding as she made her way over to him. She gently helped Ivar into his chair only giving him a slight lift from under his armpits as he did the rest of the work.
The overall complicated expression in his face as he sunk into the cushions of the chair made her heart swell and break all at once. Life had not been kind to Ivar by any means and it showed with his volatile, callous behavior and jaded outlook. Something that no 16-year-old should feel yet Ivar has felt this way for so long that anything to the contrary is overwhelmingly unthinkable.
She had looked at him and placed her hand on top of his own instantly grasped by his larger, shockingly stronger hand. His head leaned back against the built-in neck rest, eyes closed, and Adam's apple bobbing in response to his overall emotional state. No words had been said, and they didn't need to be for she understood more than most what he was going through.
That had been two weeks ago. Their chairs were now against each other, side-by-side three feet away from the open fire-pit. Her hands went back to work threading their new clothes ignoring the sharp looks from Ubbe and Hvitserk as she did so. Ivar's hand never once removed itself from her right arm moving with it when she pulled her needle to tighten the stitches she made in the fabric.
"What exactly is going on?" Came the high tones of Ubbe's voice expressing his utter confusion and disbelief. Hvitserk is deathly silent as he looked between Ursula and Ivar with knowing eyes.
"A courtship, brother." Ivar spoke with a calmness that had her glance at him as she tightened another stitch. Ocean met ice as their eyes met getting a smile from her and his features to soften considerably.
"A courtship?!" Came the incredulous voice of Hvitserk. Ursula is pretty sure that he thought that she and Ivar were simply ... fucking each other, for a lack of a better term, not courting each other. "But she is still a slave!"
"This slave can still very much hear you." She looked up to both brothers as she weaved her needle through the fabric fire burning in her eyes. "And what Ivar and I do in our own time is frankly none of your business, is it?"
All three men gaped at Ursula for various reasons. And she frankly did not care in any way possible. She knotted the thread, snipping it short, before setting aside her needle in her makeshift pin cushion. "Ivar, hold these to your waist please."
Wordlessly, with dark hooded eyes, Ivar did as she asked. A few glances are all she needed before nodding and he handed them to her smirking smugly. "Are they to your satisfaction?"
She scoffed humorously and gave a smirk of her own. "Of course, they are. I just made them."
A snort escaped Ivar as Ursula turned the pants inside out before folding them accordingly. She placed them with the shirt she made to go with it just as Ubbe said something else. "How ...?"
Ursula looked up once again as she grabbed a spool of wool. Ivar still gently touching her arm as he looked to his brothers. "Ask your question Ubbe."
But it is not Ubbe who answered. "What he means to ask is how you're in a courtship. I thought that the two of you were simply fucking – how that works, I have no idea."
In response to Hvitserk's half-hearted, careless hand-wave, Ivar gotten the most appallingly offended expression Ursula had ever seen. "Slave or not, she is still a woman Hvitserk! Have some respect, asshole!"
Ursula paused for a moment to lay hand over Ivar's as he leaned forward enough to be within arm's reach of Hvitserk. This only marginally calmed him down as he slowly, tensely leaned back into his chair.
"But you do not deny it?" Came the inquisitive, baffled tones of Ubbe.
"There is nothing to deny when nothing has happened yet." Ivar gave a sharp glance towards Ubbe his voice just as sharp. "As I said, she is a woman. Not a cunt with two legs."
A blush ran rampant across her face at Ivar's crass yet accurate choice of words. Ursula gently rubbed Ivar's knuckles with her thumb as his fingers firmly wrapped themselves around her hand. She wondered how a 16 – almost 17 – year old teenager had more insight and wisdom than men older than him. Her own eyes took in just how much they had punched through his brothers knowing that it had been a jab towards their behavior towards Margrethe.
"You two are probably ... aching to leave anyways. Get out." The double meaning and subtle angry undertones of Ivar's high voice got both Hvitserk and Ubbe to give glares of annoyance. Understandable, but well deserved at any rate, that is for certain.
They left their feet heavier than usual in their anger leaving both Ivar and Ursula to quietly enjoy the heat of the fire in the chilly weather of late fall, early winter. "I meant what I said, Ursula."
Ursula looked at him seeing that he gazed into the gently burning fire before turning to face her more. "I know."
She smiled widely, openly since Ivar came home, as he brought her hand to his lips kissing them reverently, possessively. Lingering for quite a long time before putting both their hands back where they were before resting on both the arms of the chairs.
"I'll speak with Mother tomorrow to have you freed." His decisive tone surprised her just as much as his words did.
"Ivar ... " He cut her off before she continued her protest.
"No." The firmness of his tone made her listen more closely than before. "You are a Dane. From the future or not, you are still one of our people. I will not have you a slave when you should be free."
Ursula didn't know what to say whether out of choked up emotions or because of something else, she did not know.
"I will not have our relationship quieted because you are to be hidden away like a dirty secret." His gentle tones made her caged tears escape from her eyes as she is unable to hold them back any longer. Ivar gently grabbed her chin turning her towards him pressing their foreheads together as he wiped them away with his thumb. "You mean too much to me, hjartað mitt."
Ursula cried harder as Ivar gave her a gentle yet firm kiss. She felt just as cherished as when they first kissed and everyday afterwards since they had started their courtship. It stoked the fire in her heart and body even more than before and she desperately hoped that it never died out.
Her fingers combed through his hair marveling at the soft, thickness of it and how it reached just below his ears now even with the sides of his head still shaved. She shivered as his hand trailed down her back slowly, exploratory feeling an aching heat that she hadn't felt in a long time.
They both broke the kiss but kept their foreheads together even as they kept up their ministrations. Her ocean blue eyes met his softened, thawed blue eyes smiling as her fingers continued to comb through his hair. "You have no idea how much you mean to me Ivar."
"Oh?" A lazy yet no less smug smirk stretched his lips as he kept eye contact with her. "I can garner a guess."
"Mm, with that wonderful mind of yours, I have no doubt of that." Ursula's smile widened at the wide-eyed expression on his face despite the ever-present smirk. "I would probably be still in your mother's service if not for you, min smukke ulv."
"And what does that mean?" Chuckles mingled in with Ivar's speech as his hand moved from her back to her long golden hair.
"It means," She leaned in giving him another lingering kiss getting a soft moan out of them both before slowly pulling away locking eyes with him again. "It means 'my handsome wolf'."
Ursula good-naturally giggled at the subtle bashful undertones to Ivar's prideful expression. She knew that he is still, most definitely, not used to getting compliments, and neither is she for that matter. Hopefully one day, he wouldn't be so reluctant to accept them either. But until that day comes, Ursula has no qualms whatsoever in giving them to Ivar in however way she could. Just as he has no qualms in showering her in them by the kisses, caresses, and embrace he's currently giving her.
And she would not change it even if Ragnarök just happened to be on their very doorstep.