[SIC] When the anger gets flueled [Thora]

Thora enjoyed mornings. Growing up on a farm, she’d always been an early riser. The big difference was that now, instead of caring for animals and doing chores, she takes the time to practice with her weapons before going to train for the day. This morning she’s behind her house, a large board hung from the wall, and she’s practicing throwing her ax at it. Before her brother had returned to Uddevalla, he’d challenged her to an ax throwing competition and beaten her soundly. The defeat still bothered her; and she’s ashamed to admit she’s been slacking when it comes to working with her axes. It’s shameful. They’re her preferred weapon, and she’s let her skill with them go to waste. She tosses an ax and watches with satisfaction as it sinks into the board with a loud thud. She walks over and grabs the handle, wrenching the ax free, and walks back to her starting point. She’s just about to throw t again when she hears what sounds like an angry banging on her front door, and she freezes for an instant.

She’s sneaking along the side of her house, ax raised, when she hears Ubbe calling her. Her brow knots in confusion and she’s quick to sheath the ax. She quickly steps around the corner and watches him knocking on her door again, calmer this time. ”Ubbe?” She’s surprised to see him, but glad, and she gives him a warm, easy smile. The smile quickly melts at his next question, and she shakes her head. ”I haven’t talked to him since the feast.” His next words shock her so much that the only thing she can do is blurt out, ”I didn’t know he left.” Confusion colors her voice before she looks around quickly. Her neighbor is ridiculously nosy. ”Come inside.”

She pushes open the door and motions for Ubbe to enter, then shuts the door as she follows him. She grabs two cups but pauses as she considers two jugs on the shelf. ”Water or ale, Ubbe?” In the meantime, Thora grabs two apples and tosses one toward Ubbe, takes a quick bite out of hers, and waits for him to choose.

She could tell from his tone when he called her name that something was bothering him, and it was barely an instant before she knew why. She’d only just stepped around the corner and greeted him, warm smile on her lips, before he asked her if she knew Björn had left. The news shocked her like the sea’s cold spray on her face, and she was quick to invite Ubbe inside. Her nosy neighbor was only part of it. She could sense the frustration rolling off Ubbe in waves, and although it was far too early for ale she had a feeling they would need it. It seemed like the two of them were always drinking. She’s only a little self conscious as she looks around her house. It’s small and cozy, and it suits her just fine. Two shields, painted blue and black, hang on the wall near the door, and a rack houses her sword and several small knives. There’s a small wooden table and a set of chairs, a fireplace, and a third shield hanging on the wall near an open door.

This shield—what remains of it—is painted like the other two, but it’s half-shattered. Loose planks and rough splinters hang from it, and there’s a gaping hole from an ax blow. It’s her favorite shield, the one that saved her life over and over until she dropped it and fought only with ax and sword. She made sure to retrieve it when the slaughter ended. To the right of the shield is an open door, and a bed piled with furs is visible in the other room. Yesterday’s clothes are in a small heap on the floor near the bed, because Thora isn’t exactly a neat freak. She takes all this in quickly, glad her house isn’t too messy, and crosses to the shelf. She tosses Ubbe an apple and takes a bite from hers while she waits for him to choose. He chooses ale and she pours two cups without a word, turning to hand one to Ubbe. He’s leaning against the wall like he belongs there, and the sight of him would be enough to make her smile under any other circumstance. Thora has never seen Ubbe upset before, and she’s frowning as she hands him the cup. She decides she’ll have him smiling before he leaves her house, somehow.

She takes a sip from her cup and considers how to respond to this news. ”You should know I wouldn’t leave here without saying anything to you.” She intended for it to come out a half joking statement but it’s entirely serious, and her bright green eyes are solemn as they meet his. ”And no, I haven’t seen him.” She hesitates about telling him what else happened, but then something horrible dawns on her and she feels something like panic start to rise in her chest. Did Sassa leave with him? But she wouldn’t do that, not without telling her, and she wouldn’t leave her man. Would she? ”He kissed Sassa, just last night.” She takes a large gulp of her ale and sinks into a chair. ”It was.... a misunderstanding.” She sighs and swirls her cup in her hand, watching the ale swirling, before looking up at Ubbe with a shrug. “Maybe the problems are too much for him to face? The stories say he’s a great man in battle, but everyone has their weaknesses.” Thora hates seeing Ubbe this way, this frustrated, and she wants to do something, anything, to put him at ease. She wants to close the space between them, but she decides to give him some space for now. She kicks the other chair toward him, raising her eyebrows and finally giving him a small, teasing smile. ”Do you want to sit? Or do you want me to beat you again?”

His question shocked her—would she go with Björn if he asked her? Thora hasn’t even considered such a possibility, but then again she’s learned just moments before that he’d left with a woman. She locks her bright green eyes on Ubbe, considering his question, and he answer she reaches shocks even herself. Slowly she shakes her head, the beads braided into her blond hair clinking gently together. ”No. He lost the right to ask anything of me the instant he pulled his ax on you. I only followed him at He feast because I felt like I owed him for helping me earlier.” Her face darkens for an instant and she takes a step closer to Ubbe, close enough that she can reach out and place her hand on his shoulder. She squeezes lightly but her eyes are still stormy when she continues, and her voice is soft. ”I faced an ax for you, with no shield and no weapons, and you still question my loyalty to you? How else can I prove it to you, Ubbe? Ask and it’s yours.” The last is a promise, barely above a whisper but her eyes never leave his. She knows this isn’t him, this is only his anger speaking, the frustration that’s causing him to clench his fingers around his cup, but still she’s shocked he’s questioning her. Ten again, given everything that’s happened, maybe it isn’t such a shock after all.

Thora watches Ubbe’s hands clench around his cup, knuckles turning white, when she reveals that Björn kissed Sassa. She knew Sassa and Ubbe knew each other, had grown up together, and were about the same age. Maybe his reaction shouldn’t be such a shock, but she’s never seen Ubbe angry before. She promised him once that even when anger fueled him she would never run from it, and it seems the gods have seen fit to test her promise. She only hopes she can fulfill it, but looking at Ubbe, his stormy blue eyes and the frustration rolling off him, she knows she can stand by him. Even angry, even despite what happened to her in the past, his anger doesn’t scare her. She thought once that maybe Telling Bjorn her last could make her stronger but now she knows the truth of it. Ubbe makes her feel stronger, makes her feel more like herself. She couldn’t run from him even if she wanted to.

A bitter little laugh escapes her at Ubbe’s outburst, and she shakes her head. ”No, Ubbe, I don’t think he has any idea what he’s doing right now.” She falls silent as he continues, and suddenly things flick into place. Poring. A name, finally, to a cryptic statement Björn made at the feast. Someone long gone. And not dead, like Thora had assumed. Left. And Björn never recovered, apparently, from that blow. And Thora knows she must remind him of this girl in some way, but she doesn’t know it’s because she looks so much like her. She doesn’t know Björn probably feels that loss all over again whenever he sees her. She had just though Björn loved a shieldmaiden who’d died, but the reality of it is so much worse. So much more painful, because she chose to leave him. But she pushes those youths aside and rises from her chair. She unbuckles her belt containing her axes and drapes it over the back of her chair. She closes the space between her and Ubbe, eyebrows raised, green eyes dark and serious as they meet his angry blue ones. ”Then fight me. It will make you feel better.” She pauses, pressing her hands against his chest, soothing for a moment. ”You’re right, Ubbe. He has no right to act the way he has been, famous name or no. Maybe he needs to do this. Maybe after all this time he’s finally facing what happened. Maybe this is the only way he can. But you’re right, he still has no right to act this way.” She sighs deeply, biting the inside of her cheek for a moment. ”More ale?” At this point, what could it hurt?

Watching Ubbe, realizing how angry he is, how deeply this must hurt him, Thora is torn between two impulses. She wants to find Bjorn and drag him back to Kattegat by his long blond braid, throw him on the ground at his younger brother's feet, and force him to apologize with her blade at his throat. She knows its a foolish impulse, though, one that would almost certainly result in her death. And as much as she thinks the chance to talk ti his brother would calm Ubbe, she knows it isn't her place to force it to happen. Besides, she has no idea where Bjorn is, and even if she did, one shield maiden would be no match for the famous Bjorn Ironsides. The other impulse is something she can do, if only she can figure out how. She hates seeing Ubbe so upset, but the only way she knows to help is either by fighting to get the anger out, or by drinking to drown it. Distraction is always an idea, too, but she knows it won't help in the long run. She wants to close the space between them, to rub small circles between Ubbe's shoulders and promise him everything will be alright, but she doesn't. She can't know the future, and she would never make a promise to Ubbe that she couldn't keep.

His hand is warm when he cradles the back of her neck, his thumb stroking along her jawline, and although she knew he wasn't angry at her, she likes the reassurance that he doesn't doubt her loyalty. She closes her eyes for a moment and simply nods, feeling his fingers on her skin, and looks back at him when his hand falls away from her face."Pain can make people do stupid things, Ubbe. Bjorn is in pain. Let him face it, and when he comes back he will be stronger." A small smile tilts up the corners of her lips, the storm leaving her bright green eyes as she locks them onto his blue ones. "I will prove my loyalty over and over, Ubbe. That's what friends do."

She watches Ubbe struggling to control his anger, and she merely stands there, silent, letting him work through it. Thora is there if he needs her, but she knows he's strong enough to master himself. And he does. He looks back to her, and although his blue eyes are still angry and troubled, he's in control of himself. He's so unlike his brother--kind, patient Ubbe. He's so much stronger than he gets credit for. Thora wants to reach for him, to run her fingers along his jawline like he'd done to her a few minutes earlier, but she holds back. Instead she drapes her belt and axes over the back of her chair, offering to fight him to take the edge of his anger away. She quirks her eyebrows at him as she steps closer, her hand gently resting on his chest. "I am strong enough to handle your rage, Ubbe." She nods at his next question, her hand still on his chest. Her fingers clench in the fabric of his shirt as she looks up at him. "I haven't seen him since the feast. I only know he kissed Sassa because she told me."

Her hand drops away as he continues speaking, and she shakes her head quickly. "None of this is your fault. Some of it is my fault, and some of it is Bjorn's, but blaming isn't going to help anyone, and it certainly isn't going to bring Bjorn back to Kattegat faster." She watches his hands as he gestures, hears the anger in his voice, and can only think again how badly she wants to go after Bjorn and force him to talk to his brother. But again, she knows that's a useless urge, and so she takes Ubbe's cup and hers, and refills them from the jug on the table. She hands Ubbe his cup and immediately takes a large swig from hers. She looks at Ubbe over the top of her cup before lowering it and speaking. "I'm sure he'll have an explanation when he returns. Until then, nothing passes the time like drinking and fighting." She raises her cup and drains it, turning back to him with those bright, challenging eyes. She takes a step toward him, raising a hand to run her fingers through his beard. Her voice is a whisper when she speaks. "You think you can know someone, but you can never know the pain they conceal. Don't be like Bjorn, Ubbe, please. Don't let this poison you."

Thora can see his frustration, his anger, and his loyalty warring within Ubbe's blue eyes. She knows he doesn't really doubt her, but she can see the uncertainty in him and she hates it. She wants to take it all away, to soothe all his fears, and finally she's certain of how she can make Ubbe feel better. He does it for her, makes her feel stronger and more like herself, and she can only hope that she does the same for him. She'll thank the gods every day for the strange impulse that drove her to scare away his deer that day in the forest, and every day she'll thank them for every step of her journey that led her to Kattegat. It wasn't an easy journey, nor a happy one, but it's led her to something that feels a lot like strength, to a loyalty deeper than she's felt before, to a man with blue eyes and an easy smile, and for that she's grateful. She knows that maybe, without the pain she's endured, without the knowledge of her own strength, she may not be able to withstand the tests currently in her path. If she hadn't known despair and pain, would she be able to feel the depths of loyalty she now feels? Only the gods know, and she thanks them for the twisting path they've placed before her feet.

Thora is disappointed when his hand falls from her neck, but she smiles slowly up at him when he speaks. "Then why resist?" Her voice is light and teasing, and she gives him a quick wink. With his next words, though, she becomes serious again. Loyalty goes both ways, and she's glad Ubbe is willing to prove his, too. But she shakes her head slightly, giving him another smile. "You don't need to prove anything. I've never doubted you." And then her hand is on his chest, and his hand is covering his, warm and large and callused, and just the simplicity of his hand on hers calms the storm in her. She sighs at his words, resisting the urge to step closer. She knows he doesn't want to fight her because his anger isn't for her, but she doesn't want it to storm and seethe inside him until Bjorn returns. Who knows how long that will be? She shrugs as she answers him, and her logic is simple. "He is not here to fight, I am." She sighs when he asks about Sassa, but nods. "She was frightened, but she's alright. He threw a shipping container." She snorts."He was drunk, she says."

When Ubbe places his hand on her neck and pulls her head forward, her green eyes are bright and challenging as she looks up at him, shaking her head. "I will not let you take the blame for my weakness, Ubbe." His words had been firm, but so were hers. It seemed neither of them was willing to back down on this. Both insisted on their own guilt and the other's innocence, some strange form of trying to protect each other. Each is willing to suffer the guilt to save the other suffering for it. She steps away with the cups and fills them, handing Ubbe his before draining hers. She grins as Ubbe follows suit and empties his, then sets it down on the table beside hers. Thora watches him push away from the wall. She's surprised when he grabs her hip and spins her toward the wall, and a carefree laugh escapes her lips. He pins her hand against the wall before she can strike back, his hand still on her hip, and she's smiling joyfully up at him. Her green eyes are bright and wild, glittering with mischief. "You say we always end up drunk and fighting, but it never feels like fighting, does it?"

"But if we were fighting...." She begins, but trails off quickly, darting her head forward. She stops with her nose just apart from his, smiling, challenging him. She brings one knee up, as if she's going to thrust it into his groin, but instead bumps it lightly into his inner mid-thigh and strokes her knee lightly down his leg to his knee. Her hand--the one that isn't pinned to the wall--is on his shoulder, steadying him in case the light blow with her knee is enough to unbalance him. "Besides, if drinking and fighting is good enough for the joyful dead in Valhalla, it's certainly good enough for us here." Her voice is quiet because her face is still close to his, and she quickly touches the tip of her nose against his before drawing away, resting the back of her head against the wall, her eyes locked on his, watching him. The way to make Ubbe feel better, she knows, is to play their favorite game. And this time, there's no drunken, angry Bjorn to rip them apart.

Thora can only give him a sad smile when he says maybe it isn't so bad Bjorn is gone. She knows finally he's starting to calm down, to see that maybe this is the way Bjorn has to deal with the pain he's ignored for far too long. Thora has seen the pain in him, quick glimpses of a storm he tries so hard to conceal, and she wonders how no one else knew of it. Was he that good at hiding himself from those around him? And if he was, why did he choose to show it to her, of all people? For a long time, she'd thought Bjorn hated her, then she'd thought they'd reached an understanding. Then there was the anger in him, the unfounded rage and jealousy that prompted him to rip her and Ubbe apart at the feast. Something was seething in him, some pain suppressed too long, and finally it was breaking him. She only hoped he would be strong enough to conquer it, and she wondered why she was the catalyst that seemed to cause his breaking. But maybe some things are better left unknown.

"Then don't fight me." She answers him simply, shrugging. "It's your choice, it's always your choice." When she looks at him, she can't help but think how hard it was the past two weeks to keep away from him. But for his safety and for Bjorn's stability, she had done it. Now Bjorn is gone and there's no threat, but still she hesitates to close the gap between them. Part of her is worried that Ubbe enjoyed the separation from her, the distance they'd decided was necessary. Even though he's standing before her, unwilling to fight her, swearing to prove his loyalty, there's a part of her that wants to doubt him. The small smile after he falls silent is enough to soothe her fears, and she offers him a small smile in return. By the gods, she's missed him. Sharing smiles across a crowded training field is far from enough, but somehow they'd kept their distance from each other.

Then she's telling him that she herself is to blame and his hand is on her neck, his thumb resting against her chin, and she leans lightly into his touch. Her name falls from his lips, sounding mildly desperate, but she gently places a finger on his lips to silence him. She doesn't want him to protest anymore, doesn't want to talk about who should take the blame. It's a discussion they could have for hours and still never reach an agreement. She doesn't want to turn away from him to refill the ale but she does, and after they both drain their cups she finds she's sort of glad they have a little more ale in them. It makes it easier to forget the trouble that brought Ubbe to her house, and easier to focus just on him. And there's nothing else she would rather focus on as he's spinning her, pinning her arm against the wall, his hand resting on her hip. She laughs and he smiles, and that expression is almost enough to make her laugh again. She's so glad to finally see him smiling.

He agrees with her that it doesn't feel like fighting and her grin only widens. "Whatever it is, I've missed it." She lets her voice trail off, not adding that she's missed him, because she thinks he must know that. It must be obvious, or so she thinks. She giggles as he flinches back from her knee, then watches the change in his eyes as she strokes her knee down his thigh. He releases her arm so his hand can rest against her neck, and slowly he brings his head closer to hers. His lips are light as they press against her skin, just below her ear. "I don't want to fight you." She admits, knowing he already knows that. His breath is warm against her neck as he reminds her they never got to finish, and immediately Thora knows he's talking about the night of the feast. He trails his nose over her cheek as he pulls back to look at her, and she gives him a soft smile before moving her head forward. She presses her lips lightly against the side of his neck, trailing them up his skin to reach his ear. She pauses to whisper to him. "You're right." She pulls back, but just far enough to quickly lock her eyes on his. Then her head darts forward again and her lips are on his, soft for a brief moment before her kiss becomes a challenge, not all that gentle, just like at the feast.

When Ubbe says he missed her, Thora wonders how she could have ever thought Bjorn would be the one to make her stronger. The one who could make her stronger had been in front of her all along, bright blue eyes and easy smile, laughing even though she scared away his deer. He'd been one of her first friends upon coming to Kattegat, and he made her feel more like herself than she had in a long time. His kind nature, their easy banter, the way they challenged each other. She'd given him her loyalty, swore to fight always at his side, before she even knew he was the son of Ragnar Lothbrok. Her loyalty had been freely given, not a shield maiden to a prince, but a friend to a friend first. Of course he was a prince and she was a shield maiden, but she knew that obeying him wouldn't be a problem if he ever gave her orders. And fighting for him, and fighting beside him, that would be the easiest thing she'd ever done. Not because the shield wall was an easy place to be, but because she believed in Ubbe. She believed in his kindness and his intelligence, in the goodness of his heart, and that was why her loyalty was given so easily to him. And if the gods saw fit to test it, she would face each test with a light heart and a smile.

Her hand travels from his shoulder down his ribs, finally snaking around to his back, and her other hand is quick to reach behind him once he releases it from his grip. She hears his hum of approval and giggles lightly, moving her head forward to nuzzle her nose lightly against the side of his head, into the softness of his hair. He smells nice, sort of like woodsmoke, and she closes her eyes to enjoy the scent of him better. The feel of his lips against her skin awakens something strange in her, a peace and a frenzy all at once, and that's why she closes the distance between their mouths in a challenging kiss. And he rises to meet her challenge, just like she knew he would, and suddenly her back is against the wall and there's no space between them at all. He presses his body tightly to hers, and her hands tighten on his back to lock him in place against her. There's a heat, an urgency to their kiss that she's seldom felt before, and it leaves her breathless when he finally breaks it, but they do need to breathe eventually.

His forehead is resting against hers and his blue eyes are wild as they lock onto her bright green ones before he trails his lips down to her neck. She shivers beneath the light caress of his mouth, but his forehead is quickly against hers again and he's locking his eyes onto hers and whispering to her. They're some of the sweetest words she's ever heard, an admission that she wasn't the only one who couldn't resist the other. His fingers are stroking down her cheek, and she smiles up at him before turning her head to lightly kiss his fingers. "I want you, too. Fighting you has always just been an excuse to touch you." She trails her lips slowly over his cheek as he continues, then pulls back to rest their foreheads together and meet his eyes. Her eyebrows are raised when he says he would fight Bjorn for her, and she shakes her head slightly. "Maybe I'll have to fight both of you, remind you both that I'm a free woman who makes her own choices." Her scolding is light, though, and she follows it with a slow, tender kiss to his neck before she draws back to meet his eyes again. "And I choose you."

Thora is tired of feeling vulnerable, tired of holding back, and tired of being quiet. She's tired of avoiding Ubbe and worrying about Bjorn's feelings, especially when he doesn't seem to return the same concern for either her feelings or Ubbe's. And so if she wants to be with Ubbe, she will. If it means she has to fight Bjorn, she will. If it means Ubbe has to fight Bjorn... He says he will, but Thora hopes it doesn't come down to anyone fighting. Maybe he'll come to terms with his loss while he's gone, and the issue will work itself out. She knows that's unlikely, but it doesn't matter. Not only will she fight with Ubbe, she'll fight for him, and for herself, too. She's spent the last few years of her life living in fear of a man, and she isn't going to let Bjorn scare her into obeying his will. She's done letting herself be controlled by fear. And with Ubbe, she's never once felt fear, not even when he came to her house angry. And she's fought him before, she knows how strong he is, how fast he is, and how clever he is, but she also knows she can beat him. Not easily, they're pretty well-matched; he's bigger and stronger than her but she's faster and more experienced. She's used to fighting men larger than her, but she knows she won't have to fight Ubbe. Bjorn maybe, when he comes home, and she'll be ready to face him.

And the reason she isn't scared anymore is pinning her back against the wall, his hands cupping her face, and even though he could easily hurt her, she isn't scared. Her arms are around him, pulling him as close as he can get, and somehow it still isn't close enough. It's a hard kiss, nothing gentle about it, hyst like the one they shared at the feast, and yet there's something different about it. This time they both know it isn't a drunken game. They might be a little drunk, but there's nothing playful about this kiss. She's breathless when they break apart, her green eyes locked onto his wild blue ones, and she knows she'd go anywhere in the world as long as he was there. She'd sail to the edges of the world, where the wives rise tall and wild and the Midgard Serpent thrashes, simply because he wants to see the edge of the world. She'd fight at his side and she'd always have his back. She'll drink with him, feast with him, hunt with him, and lay beside him at night. She'll tease him and taunt him and rise to any challenge he places before her. Finally, she isn't afraid. She hasn't been afraid since she chased away his deer.

She laughs quietly after she kisses his fingers, at his gentle teasing, and raises her brow as she answers. "And ruin our game?" Her tone is light and teasing, trailing her lips over his cheek as she speaks. She sees his eyes are closed and smiles softly to herself, planting a gentle kiss above his beard before she rests her forehead on his. He strokes his nose against hers and she leans into him as he speaks. She hums as she considers his words, then agrees. "I'd rather fight you than Bjorn." She admits. She feels his fingers skimming over her neck and shivers because it tickles. His one hand is on her face and the other is around her waist, pulling her even closer, and she tightens her grip around him in response. Her hand clenches into a fist in his shirt as he whispers to her again, and she whispers back softly, another challenge. "Then why don't you show me?" But the challenge is light, almost nonexistent, and she tilts her head as he leans down to kiss her again. It's a slow kiss this time, slow and sweet, and her hand travels up to gently cup the back of his head.

Thora might be pinned between Ubbe and a wall, but she's never felt more free than she does right now. She knows she can stop him at any moment and he'll listen to her, he'll stop whatever he's doing because he respects her. But she doesn't want him to stop and she can tell stopping would be a struggle for him anyway, and so she lets things continue. She enjoys sharing kisses with him, the feel of his lips and the smell of his skin, and when he tells her he never wants to stop fighting her, she only laughs. "And I never want to stop playing this game with you." She leans in to press her lips against his neck, and after a quick beat she sucks his skin hard into her mouth, knowing she'll raise a red mark on his neck, and the thought makes her strangely happy. It's something primal, her joy at leaving a mark on his skin. It's like a claim, and when she pulls back she studies the small red mark with a quiet hum of approval before turning her bright green eyes to his wild blue ones.

Thora enjoys the soft, slow kisses, and she relaxes even further beneath his gentle mouth. But then his hands are beneath her shirt, his fingers exploring her skin, and it awakens a sharp hunger in her. She moans softly against his mouth, then teasingly hooks a finger into the waistband of his trousers with a wicked little smirk. Quickly she releases it, though, and trails her hands beneath his shirt, up his flat stomach and to his chest, and her hands slowly map his body. She gives an appreciative little hum and grins up at him, her eyes gleaming. "You've been training without me." The accusation is light and teasing, though, and she giggles as her hands explore his chest a little more. She goes still as he pulls back, locking his eyes with hers, and she sees the serious, searching look on his face as he gazes at her. She smiles up at him, telling him without saying anything that she doesn't want him to stop touching her.

Her breath catches as he kisses the corner of her lips, her hands tightening against his chest, and he's trailing his lips along her cheek and to her ear, then back again, and she meets her lips with his and deepens the kiss, one hand darting out from beneath his shirt to cup the back of his head and lock his head into place against hers. His hands are on her hips and her skin seems to burn in every place he touches her, and his mouth is resting against the crook her neck, and she knows that if her shirt wasn't blocking him he would be kissing her shoulder, and the hand that's still against his chest snakes around to his back and rests between his shoulder blades. She remembers the way the look in his eyes changed when she pulled his braid at the feast, and she wants to call that light aggression forward again. Her hand leaves the back of his head and tugs sharply on his braid, and at the same time her head darts forward and she kisses his neck, just beneath his ear, and her teeth scrape lightly against his skin as she kisses him.

She laughs, shaking her head as he says he needs to get better if he's going to defeat her, and she wants to respond but he's sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and all thoughts of everything but that leave her mind. She gasps against his mouth, her nails digging lightly into his chest, and she's unable to even complete a thought until he releases her lip. She sags lightly against him, resting her head against his chest for a moment to gather her thoughts again, and after a few seconds she looks up at him again. "As I was going to say before you distracted me," she pauses, giving him a teasing look, "you're already strong enough to beat me. You just need to be faster." She looks over him slowly, dragging her green eyes over his body as if she's considering him, but in truth she's remembering the way his body pressed against her when they fought in the forest, the heat and weight of him as he pinned her beauty him, and she can't bear the small space between them so her hand snakes around to his back and rests between his shoulder blades, pulling him closer to her again.

His fingers are tracing along her hips and lower back and it's nearly enough to drive her crazy, but what makes her even crazier is Ubbe's reaction to the sharp tug on his braid, to her teeth scraping against his neck as she kisses him. She giggles as he pulls the string, loosening her shirt, and shimmies her shoulders to make it pop open even more, teasing him as one shoulder slips free. Then his hands are sliding down her back and over her ass, and digging into the backs of her thighs as he easily lifts her. Her legs are quick to wrap around his waist and her arms snake around his shoulders, and as he leaves the wall she presses her mouth to his in a deep, hungry kiss. She's still clinging to him when they reach the bed, and she's unwilling to break the contact between their lips. She whimpers slightly as he pulls back, then grins as he pulls his shirt over his head. Her hands stroke over his newly exposed skin, and her eyes are all over him, drinking in the sight of him. She presses a kiss to the right side of his chest before pulling back.

She tosses her shirt carelessly to the floor, then reaches forward with her sword-arm to pull him against her. He's hovering over her but she can't stand the space between them, wants to feel his skin pressed against hers, and so she reaches for him. Her sword arm is decorated with an intricate knot work of loops and swirls, framing a long, jagged scar that reaches from wrist to elbow. It's a scar she's proud of, a mark of strength and survival, and that's why she's decorated it with tattoos. Her arm loops around behind him, cupping the back of his neck, and she gently tugs his mouth toward his. Her other hand comes forward, fingers hooking in the waistband of his trousers, and she pulls him down with her as she slowly sinks down against the furs.

When that light growl escapes his lips she shivers, knowing him to be strong and fierce as a wolf, and knowing he's finally caught her. And caught her to keep her, because this time she isn't going to slip through his grasp again. She's caught, prey going willingly to the hunter, and it's all she wants. It's hard to remember the anger that drove him to her house, hard to remember the glint of firelight on Bjorn's raised ax at the feast, hard to focus on anything that isn't Ubbe pressing against her, his fingers digging into her skin and lighting a fire in her belly. She notes the teasing in his voice when she pauses and laughs. She laughs because being with Ubbe, this teasing, all this touching, the hungry kisses, all of it is so easy it feels like fate, and she laughs because maybe there was a reason for her coming to Kattegat besides escaping her past. Maybe it was to find a future, to spend her days teasing Ubbe and laughing with him, to spend her nights lying beside him and loving him. Or maybe they're just drunken fools, but she laughs because she doesn't care about anything besides this moment, and in this moment she's finally happy.

He rests his face against her, his breath tickling her ear, and tells her that he'll get faster, pulling her closer before he kisses her again, and she loses the witty retort she had ready because it's hard to think when he kisses her that way. Then he loosens her shirt and her shoulder slips loose, his hands are hard, conqueror's hands, as they slide down over her ass and lift her, and she's glad that after all this time she's let him catch her. She wonders if she ever really had a choice in the matter but she doesn't care because her legs are wrapped around him and she's kissing him, deep and hard, and she knows he's stumbling blindly toward her bed but she's still almost shocked as he sets her down. Not because he's set her on the bed, but because suddenly they're not touching as much as they just were and she hates that, but she loves what she sees when he takes his shirt off and her hands are quick to run over his smooth skin, to map the hard expanse of muscle on his warrior's body.

Thora sees him looking at her when she takes off her own shirt and she smiles up at him, hooking a finger into his trousers and pulling him forward. Her name falls from his lips, a whisper full of desire, and as his body sinks down onto her, her finger begins to slowly drag his trousers down over his hips. His hand was on her, exploring her, and as their skin finally connects he's kissing her, a kiss that steals her breath and makes her gasp against his lips. Both her arms wrap around him, trailing over his lower back and his ass, and Ubbe's lips are trailing from her mouth to her neck, then her shoulders and between her breasts, and she thinks he's going to devour her like the wolf he's named for, and she wants nothing more than that. She shimmies beneath him so her own mouth can reach his shoulder. She trails kisses from his neck and shoulder down across his chest, her hands still stroking his back, and she gives him a teasing little smile as she slips her hand down over his hips and starts slowly tugging his pants down again. Her fingers explore every bit of skin as she exposes it, her bright eyes meeting his before she finds his lips with her own again, whispering his name before she kisses him.

After they've finished, Thora can't help but trail her fingers slowly over his skin, simply watching the play of sunlight through the windows over his body. The slant of the light and her grumbling stomach remind her they've spent a significant amount of time exploring each other, and she grins at Ubbe as she playfully drags her nails down his chest. The pressure is light and the lines fade quickly but still the sight makes her smile. She leans forward and presses a kiss to his bare chest, then trails kisses up his shoulder and neck, along his jawline and finally to his lips. She's never had that before--the build-up and the wanting and a satisfaction so complete it leaves her movements slow and lazy. It makes her feel vulnerable, a little unsafe, but she reassures herself by trailing kisses up Ubbe's chest to his lips, and her nagging doubts quiet. She stretches against him, enjoying the way his skin slides against hers, and then pulls back with a sharp little nip on his neck, just above the mark she'd sucked onto his skin when they were against the wall.

"We should go hunting, or maybe train?" Now that the idea is planted in her head, she can't seem to get free of it. It's against her nature to stay in bed all day, not when there are other things she could be doing. And even better, if she's doing them with Ubbe. She disentangles her legs from his and stands, goosebumps rising along her skin from the sudden loss of his warmth. She bends and grabs Ubbe's shirt from the floor and smirks devilishly at him as she pulls it over her head. It falls nearly halfway down her thigh, and she rolls the sleeves a bit so she can use her hands. "So I'm not distracting you." She tells him, laughing, as she enters the other room to grab something to eat. She grabs a loaf of bread and some smoked meat, and two cups that she fills with water instead of their preferred ale. She suspects that if they drank more ale, they'd wind up in her bed again. She hopes they'll wind up there again anyway, but maybe in a few hours instead of immediately. She's still recovering from the first time, still reassuring herself that Ubbe isn't going anywhere.

She takes a bite of the meat as she hands Ubbe a cup, then turns to inspect her weapons. It's rare for her to be this quiet, but she's only still trying to work through the surprising turn of events, trying to come to terms with the new and a little overwhelming storm of feelings that have awakened in her. She takes another bite, runs her fingers over the broken shield on the wall, and turns to Ubbe. Her green eyes are wide and serious, her head tilted slightly to the side as she considers him. She swallows, takes a breath, and can't quite hide the wobble of uncertainty in her voice. "Now what, Ubbe?" She registers somewhere in the back of her mind that it may be unfair to ask that question of him, but it's one that she desperately needs answered so she can understand what's happening, to analyze and deal with the things she's feeling. She's confident she can handle any answer, and she wants to come to an understanding quickly.