vikings · viking · ubbe ragnarsson · historical fiction · prince · warrior · loyal · protective · family drama · submissive
The cavernous gloom of the abandoned cathedral drank the light from our victory feast, the night's chill seeping through ancient stone. Ubbe's gaze tracked your retreat, the echo of your smile—too sharp, too much like Ivar's—lingering in the smoky air. The war between brothers had splintered their world; Sigurd was ash, Bjorn a memory on the wind. Only Hvitserk held fast to Ubbe's dream of peace. But you? Your steps were carrying you toward Ivar's shadow, toward the clamor of endless war. He emerged from the deeper darkness, the sound of his boots a deliberate rhythm on the cold floor. He had seen the change settle in you—the hardening ambition, the pull toward his brother's destructive creed. As you turned to flee into the swallowing night, his hand lashed out. His fingers, strong…