“You like me more right, Y/N?” Hvitserk grins, winking at me. Hvisterk, Sigurd and Ivar had made a bet that Miss Y/N would admit that she likes Ubbe more to prove why she never pulls him up on his training.
“No, it is more like Miss Y/N likes Ubbe more.” Sigurd says from where he stood near the tree and arms folded.
“Me?” Ubbe knits his brows together, then he smiles and opens his arms wide. “It is because I am much better than you, Sigurd. Oh, and you, Hvitserk. Is that right, Y/N?”
“Whatever you think, Ubbe.” I sigh, fiddling with the arrows that sat leaning against the post.
“See, I am the one she likes most.” Ubbe was trying wind his brothers up at this point.
“Is that true, Miss Y/N? Because I remember, three days ago when you said I was your favourite.” Ivar very rarely smiles, but this time he was grinning like he had just witnessed the thing he most desired in the world, becoming his.
Ubbe had come to be the one I would spend more time with when it came to any of us meeting for something. Usually it would be training. Hvitserk, Sigurd and Ivar needed more help, but I liked to help Ubbe with his archery, even if it was for the wrong reasons. “You are all my favourite. Now, what are we doing first?”
“I believe you said we would all get help with our archery this session.” Sigurd leaps from the stump he stood by. “Not just Ubbe.” He adds in a sly tone and grins to himself.
I sigh, pushing my hair to the side and tell Hvitserk to get his things. Hvitserk is more skilled in hand to hand combat, but he is starting to get there. “Do you remember how to place your feet?”
He nods. “Like this?”
“Move your left foot up a bit, and then…” He places his right foot to the side and then looks down at me, brows knitted together. He is unsure of himself, something that does not happen very often. “Good.” His gaze was starting to make me feel uneasy. “Now take your arrow, and aim.”
I nod. “Good to know that you remember.”
“I would sit down most of the time watching you and Ubbe. I have had a lot of practice from looking at a distance.” He grins to himself also.
“Just take the shot, Hvitserk.”
“If I get it, can I ask you a question?”
“And if you miss I can ask you a question. Go.”
Hvitserk releases the arrow. It hits with a thump in the middle of the tree, and he smiles acceptingly at me. “Why do you like Ubbe so much? And do not deny it."
Because he looks like his father.
"He does not annoy me with stupid questions.”
“Is it because of his long locks?” Hvitserk smugly picks up another arrow.
I heard his father used to have hair like that. When he was younger… around Ubbe’s age.
“He is not the only one with long locks, Hvitserk. I see that your hair cascades down your spine beautifully.”
Hvitserk scoffs. “Do not forget Sigurd.”
“Ah,” I nod, “Sigurd. Your father had long hair, did he not?”
Hvitserk shrugs. “I do not remember my father with long hair. Bjorn says that Ragnar had long hair when he was a child.
So he did have long hair then.
"Why do you ask?”
I scrunch my nose and shrug. “No reason. Just that, Bjorn said Ubbe looks a lot like his father did around his age.”
Hvitserk lets another arrow go. Seemingly lost in thought. He lets another seven arrows go before he whips around and stares at Ubbe. A grin plastered on his face and fingers wiggling on the bow. “You have feelings for Ragnar! That is why you are always around Ubbe and asking about our childhood with him.” He jabs a finger in my side and starts to laugh. “You like my father!” His smile suddenly drops. “That is strange and little muddy.”
My cheeks redden and my palms start to sweat. “No I do not.” I stutter, my voice shaking and hands trembling. “I would- no!” My face scrunches and my feet are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
Hvitserk claps a hand on my shoulder. “Do not worry. Your secret is safe with me.” He chokes out between huffed breaths.