You looked to your feet as you sat on the stairs before the great hall, laughing about what Ivar was telling. He wasn't much the talker and if he did it was to mock but know he was telling, bragging more, about his father arriving here again. You weren't there when it happened, but the talking happened very quickly. He was in a way proud that Ragnar noticed him and you looked aside to him and Ubbe who sat aside you. You and the Ragnarssons got way back, not really in the friendly matter first. You were a slave and there went a lot of fighting on before between Ivar and Sigurd about who got to boss you for the day. After all those months you were their stress relief, or at least, for some. Ubbe like talking to you, you were a good listener. Ivar and Sigurd, they were still fighting but now Sigurd wasn't around Ivar tended to be almost friendly. Hvitserk ... you looked up when you heard the familiar walk. In a way you know everything about him always a little better than you did about the others.

'You know he stroke your hair, like a dog.' He said when Ivar was still talking. It wasn't Hvitserk to make that kind of a joke. You slowly looked up to him, he gave you a short glare before walking the stairs into the great hall. Ivar grabbed him with his ankle and Hvitserk almost fell down.

'Guys.' You started as Hvitserk turned around to his youngest brother.

'Isn't it true?' Hvitserk asked him.

'Ivar.' You warned him as his eyes turned stone cold in seconds. He looked aside to you and let go of Hvitserk. He walked in and Ivar turned his eyes stubborn in front of him. 'I will talk to him.'

'It's around you he act like this.' Ubbe noticed.

'Why?' You asked confused.

'Go find out.' He nodded inside. You signed and got up, looking for Hvitserk who was sitting on one of the tables.

'What is it with you?' You asked, dropping down the seat before him. He looked into from his cup of ale, angry. 'Hvitserk?' You lowered your head to look for his gaze.

'Nothing.' He answered straight forward.

'Is it because I didn't work for you in a while?'

'It's nothing Y/n.' He answered, looking up and throwing you a smile for which you knew it was a fake one. So you leave it, not knowing what was going on or how to solve it.

But that week grew only different. Whenever you were with the brothers Hvitserk started to avoid you. When you were alone with him seemed to enjoy himself after some time. But things didn't go as before and you hated that, certainly with what you down in your stomach felt. You and Hvitserk got along the best together, now all the sudden there was that great gap of what Ubbe called ... jealousy. You heard him laugh till outside the great hall and you smiled, looking inside from where you stood. But as soon as you entered his laugh died away and he got all serious when Sigurd invited you at the table.

'Did you manage to safe mothers dress?' Sigurd asked you.

'I did what you said, I took it, brought it straight to the woman who you talked about. She fixed it and now it's back without queen Aslaug never knowing.' You said proudly. They all started to laugh and you laughed with them. Only Hvitserk didn't, he was looking at you, head resting down on his arm. His gaze was different, you felt for the first time his jealousy and your mouth dried out. Why? Why was he jealous in the first place? Your eyes connected and you asked him just by looking at him. He pulled the corner of his mouth up, an almost sad smile and he stood up.

'Where are you going brother?' Ubbe asked him with a harsh shoulder pet.

'Home.' Hvitserk answered, slapping his brother against the back of his head before heading out. You waited a minute before you stood up yourself, not giving the brothers another look while you ran out, following Hvitserk his trail to the home he shared with his brothers. You walked in and looked how he just pulled out his tunic and your eyes rested on his broad shoulder blades. He looked over his shoulder and you swallowed, walking into his room.

'What is going on with you?' You asked him, holding your eyes up to his instead from over his chest.

'Nothing.'

'Hvitserk this is nothing. There is something, you hardly talk with me if I'm around your brothers. We used to be friends, now you can't stand me anymore.' You threw it out, your own insecurities, your doubts and fears. You liked him the most, while they all complained against you he was the only one you got to complain against, who made you feel better afterwards.

'It isn't that I can't stand you it's just,' he felt silence and threw his tunic on the bed.

'Are you jealous?' You asked carefully. He buried his head between his hands and stroke them further over his breaded head before looking at you.

'You have more fun around them than when you are with me.'

'Who says that, Hvitserk,'

'I like you Y/n,' he interrupted you. 'seeing you laughing with them makes me sick, knowing I can't have you for you rather have them.' His tone was flat, angry almost and your arm felt numb aside your body. He liked you? In really liking you? As in love liking you? Why ... you looked to the struggle going on in his expression.

'Did it ever occur to you to just talk to me. That I maybe feel the same?' You asked him, tilting your head to have a better angle at his eyes. 'I don't like Ivar or Ubbe or Sigurd, not in that way. You are the one cheering me up after a hard day, you are the one I get to complain to, who doesn't treat me as the slave I supposed to be. Didn't you think that wouldn't do something to me? I,' you got lost in your words under the way he was looking at you. 'You are jealous for nothing Hvitserk.' You whispered, stepping over to him. 'I'm your friend but in the depths of everything I always hoped for more.' So, you said it. You said what was swimming around in your body for weeks now.

'Why didn't you tell?' He asked, totally caught off guard by your words.

'Because it isn't my place to tell. I'm a slave Hvitserk, who wants a,' but before you even could finish that sentence he crushed his lips down on yours, cupping your face and surprising you in the act. You had little breath left but what was left you used on enjoying this moment. You laid a hand against his jaw, your other hand resting against his chest as he kissed you with the passion like not seeing you for months. Like he released all his frustrations, his relief in this one single kiss. You pulled back, panting, resting your forehead against his shoulders.

'This could all have happened a little sooner.' He breathed.

'You had to be a stubborn jealous asshole.'

'Yeah I was.' He kissed your hair. 'I'm sorry.' He followed. You removed your head from his shoulder and looked up to him.

'You can't love a slave Hvitserk, Aslaug won't let you.' You whispered, coming back to earth, to reality.

'Let me prove you wrong.' He protested almost gentle, placing a new kiss on your lips, tenderly. You signed, hoping he was right for once.