He'd gone to sleep one night and woken up the next morning with over a year having passed. He couldn't be certain that it had been real, for it wasn't like Riverview where he physically went back home. But...it had definitely seemed real, all that had occurred between the madness that seemed to have intensified in him when he took the throne, the ambiguousness of Hvitserk's nature until he finally abandoned Ivar for good, the wife and child he'd gained and then lost.
He was disturbed greatly by this turn of events, so upon waking the first thing he did was look over to where Ubbe's bed was. It looked like he might have gone through something similar, for his brother looked like he'd gotten into a fight that he might not have won. There was literal gouges of his face ripped out. Ivar threw one of his shoes at his brother to get him to wake up so they could talk.
It's a strange experience to wake up and simultaneously know that virtually no time had passed but to feel the effects of the better part of a year or more. There were clearly wounds that were healing that were serious. The fight...
But the shoe is what had really woken him up even though consciousness had been on the verge of fullness. He groans quietly and doesn't bother sitting up, not quite wanting to move just yet, his muscles stiff which made the idea of moving all the worse.
Odin's eye, Ubbe sounded almost as bad as he looked. Ivar was going to have to drag him to a healer to make sure he didn't drop dead. Ivar sat up. There aren't many physical changes to him, just a tattoo or two more now on his chest and his hair a little longer then before.
"I assume you had a dream about being home as well?" He's keeping his voice neutral, masking all the emotions that were still with him when he had woken up.
Ubbe looks over at Ivar and he can see the differences in his brother too. Whatever had just happened to Ubbe must have happened to Ivar as well. It was very strange. He just grunts his agreement to the question, not bothering to actually say anything.
Ivar knew him well enough to know what the sound meant.
Ivar sits up. He looks tired. Not quite defeated, for that would mean Ivar was broken and nothing his brothers could ever do to him would break his spirit. But weary to the bone, yes, the entire air about him seemed to fill with that sentiment.
He doesn't even know what to say. Simultaneously, he'd seen his brother just yesterday and yet over a year had passed since they had last seen each other. He simply stares blankly at the wall for a while.
When he finally snaps back to himself, there's many things he wants to say, but only one of them comes out. "Did you win?" He's referring to whatever fight that Ubbe had clearly been in. Ivar might have seen his brother as a bit of a pushover, but he knew that in battle, Ubbe was as fierce as a tiger when properly motivated.
Ubbe can sense the weariness in Ivar and it doesn’t incentivize him to move to sit up. His body still aches feeling stiff even though he knew he had been moving around. There was currently no reason to get moving around and no torvi to prod him to do so anyway. There was just Ivar. He felt tired at that knowledge somehow.
There’s another grunt, another one that means yes.
“And King Alfred gave me the lands promised to our father.” Because that was the point of that fight in the first place and what mattered most to Ubbe.
Ivar sits there, propped up on his elbows. He feels no need to do anything besides lie there in bed and think about all the misfortunes of his life. Part of him still wants to curl up under the covers so he can cry more about losing Freydis and his son, but he's too tired for many more tears. Better to find out what had happened to his brother instead to distract him.
"Good." The single word of praise is far more then Ivar usually ever gives anyone. If Ubbe looked this bad, he knew the other person was dead. Judging from the state of his hands, he likely beat them to death using only his fists. Then he adds on. "It was about time." Ivar could have cared less about securing lands for their people, but he knew Ubbe set a great store by idea of having a place where the Norse could settle down and farm.
Ubbe sighs deeply and it's strange to have that sort of approval from his younger brother. Something rare. He has quite the mixed feelings about it all the same. He looked over at Ivar and snorts.
"It would have happened sooner if you weren't so stubborn," he mutters. That might not actually be true, but that's neither here nor there at the moment. He's feeling a bit grumpy.
"Me being stubborn?" Ivar says with an incredulous air. "I'm not the one who thought King Aethelwulf would give in after a single defeat. I'm not sure if that was optimism or just you being naive." Back to the same old argument that had led to their falling-out to begin with.
But there's not much heat to Ivar's words, just the general need to be contrary that follows him around. He's too tired for much fighting right now. "I missed you," he says, long-denied affection in his voice.
Ubbe sighs and he doesn't respond to that. It's not because he couldn't argue it or that he thinks Ivar is right but he won't fall into having the same argument over and over. He's exhausted and pained enough to not bother with it. Besides, Ivar's next choice of words are much more important to him.
"Ivar," Ubbe exhales and it's the way he would say Hvitserk's name when Hvitserk returns from travel, the way he can imbue a name with affection and love.
He's missed having his brother around more then he can possibly say and hearing his name said cracks whatever ice is left in his heart. Ubbe had always been his protector, the one who looked out for him, his legs because he couldn't walk. He saw things in Ivar that others didn't. Pushing him away had been one of his worst decisions, though he wouldn't regret it. Ivar had only ever regretted three things in his life and that wasn't one of them.
As it stands, he doesn't think he'll ever have the strength again to push his brother away.
"You need to see a healer," Ivar says by way of showing he cares before adding on in his usual contrary Ivar way: "You look like shit."
Ubbe rolls his eyes and reluctantly pushes himself up to glance over at Ivar. "I am fine, brother."
It has been some time since the fight. Wounds are slow to heal but healing they are. He's been resting for sometime. He and Torvi had already left Alfred's castle by the point that he came back and so he was walking, albeit with a limp.
"Before? What did you look like then? Half-dead?" Now he was only about a quarter-dead or so. Ivar's latched onto this like a dog with a bone and won't be letting go of it. Bad when he wants to do things like kill Lagertha and start a civil war with his brothers. Less horrible when he's actually concerned about someone.
"What about germs and infection?" He persists. Granted, Ivar only has a vague concept of them along the lines of 'They do bad things to you' but that was probably more then what Ubbe knew.
"I believe Torvi thought I had died," Ubbe said. He was sure there had been a point in that fight where they all thought he had died. He thought he was dying. But Odin had given him the strength to finish.
"I am fine, Ivar. I have seen worse." He has no idea bout the germs thing.
"I wouldn't have blamed her." The mention of Torvi does make him think. He hasn't seen his brother for a long while and has no idea he's married their brother's ex...why is this family so weird? Ivar would definitely be judging him if he knew.
At the insistence, Ivar ignores him, which is pretty much usual for the way things go between them. Ivar does what he wants more often then not. He slides off his bed, crawls the few feet over to Ubbe's, and pulls himself up so that he's propped up on his knees. He studies Ubbe's face intently, frowning a little bit. "I'm not so certain I believe you."
Ivar isn't exactly exempt from the weird completely but Ubbe wouldn't have cared anyway. With Torvi things were different and Bjorn had moved on from her before anything had happened between the two of them so there was nothing particularly untoward about it.
"Careful, I might think you care, Ivar," Ubbe says with a bit of a teasing grin.
He punches Ubbe lightly in the shoulder, making sure he's not about to give his brother another bruise to deal with. "Quiet down, you", he says gruffly "someone has to make sure you don't drop dead." Ubbe has watched out for Ivar his whole life and it's rare that he gets a chance to return the favor.
Ubbe smiles all the same and the punch doesn't bother him all that much. It's affectionate and not particularly hard.
"I am fine, Ivar," Ubbe tries to assure him again. "If I were not I would seek help. I do have a sense of self-preservation," Unlike someone else in this room.
Hey, he resembles that remark! He won't argue the point though. Ubbe won't be dropping dead anytime soon and he'll bodily drag him to a doctor if he takes a turn for the worse.
"Alright." He leans over and rests his forehead against Ubbe's in a sign of affection. Ragnar's brood wasn't much for hugging, but this closeness was something to show they cared about each other. "I'm glad we're not fighting anymore." It's a big thing for Ivar to even admit that much.
Ubbe lets their foreheads rest against one another. It is the equal to them saying 'I love you.' His hand comes to touch Ivar's cheek lightly, the gesture usually reserved for Hvitserk being as he and Ubbe had always been the more affectionate type than Ivar and Sigurd had been.
Ivar doesn't pull away when Ubbe rests his hand against his cheek. "I know, I know," he murmurs. Ivar would never admit that he'd been wrong in what he'd done, but it was clear he wished he'd gone down a different path instead of disowning and fighting against Ubbe.
He eventually goes back over to his own bed. Though the circumstances are far from ideal, being here under the ocean and far from their home, but he's glad to have Ubbe by his side again.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Action
He was disturbed greatly by this turn of events, so upon waking the first thing he did was look over to where Ubbe's bed was. It looked like he might have gone through something similar, for his brother looked like he'd gotten into a fight that he might not have won. There was literal gouges of his face ripped out. Ivar threw one of his shoes at his brother to get him to wake up so they could talk.
no subject
But the shoe is what had really woken him up even though consciousness had been on the verge of fullness. He groans quietly and doesn't bother sitting up, not quite wanting to move just yet, his muscles stiff which made the idea of moving all the worse.
"What, Ivar?" His voice is gravely.
no subject
"I assume you had a dream about being home as well?" He's keeping his voice neutral, masking all the emotions that were still with him when he had woken up.
no subject
Ivar knew him well enough to know what the sound meant.
no subject
He doesn't even know what to say. Simultaneously, he'd seen his brother just yesterday and yet over a year had passed since they had last seen each other. He simply stares blankly at the wall for a while.
When he finally snaps back to himself, there's many things he wants to say, but only one of them comes out. "Did you win?" He's referring to whatever fight that Ubbe had clearly been in. Ivar might have seen his brother as a bit of a pushover, but he knew that in battle, Ubbe was as fierce as a tiger when properly motivated.
no subject
There’s another grunt, another one that means yes.
“And King Alfred gave me the lands promised to our father.” Because that was the point of that fight in the first place and what mattered most to Ubbe.
no subject
"Good." The single word of praise is far more then Ivar usually ever gives anyone. If Ubbe looked this bad, he knew the other person was dead. Judging from the state of his hands, he likely beat them to death using only his fists. Then he adds on. "It was about time." Ivar could have cared less about securing lands for their people, but he knew Ubbe set a great store by idea of having a place where the Norse could settle down and farm.
no subject
"It would have happened sooner if you weren't so stubborn," he mutters. That might not actually be true, but that's neither here nor there at the moment. He's feeling a bit grumpy.
no subject
But there's not much heat to Ivar's words, just the general need to be contrary that follows him around. He's too tired for much fighting right now. "I missed you," he says, long-denied affection in his voice.
no subject
"Ivar," Ubbe exhales and it's the way he would say Hvitserk's name when Hvitserk returns from travel, the way he can imbue a name with affection and love.
no subject
As it stands, he doesn't think he'll ever have the strength again to push his brother away.
"You need to see a healer," Ivar says by way of showing he cares before adding on in his usual contrary Ivar way: "You look like shit."
no subject
It has been some time since the fight. Wounds are slow to heal but healing they are. He's been resting for sometime. He and Torvi had already left Alfred's castle by the point that he came back and so he was walking, albeit with a limp.
"It was much worse before."
no subject
"What about germs and infection?" He persists. Granted, Ivar only has a vague concept of them along the lines of 'They do bad things to you' but that was probably more then what Ubbe knew.
no subject
"I am fine, Ivar. I have seen worse." He has no idea bout the germs thing.
no subject
At the insistence, Ivar ignores him, which is pretty much usual for the way things go between them. Ivar does what he wants more often then not. He slides off his bed, crawls the few feet over to Ubbe's, and pulls himself up so that he's propped up on his knees. He studies Ubbe's face intently, frowning a little bit. "I'm not so certain I believe you."
no subject
"Careful, I might think you care, Ivar," Ubbe says with a bit of a teasing grin.
no subject
no subject
"I am fine, Ivar," Ubbe tries to assure him again. "If I were not I would seek help. I do have a sense of self-preservation," Unlike someone else in this room.
no subject
"Alright." He leans over and rests his forehead against Ubbe's in a sign of affection. Ragnar's brood wasn't much for hugging, but this closeness was something to show they cared about each other. "I'm glad we're not fighting anymore." It's a big thing for Ivar to even admit that much.
no subject
"I never wanted to fight you."
no subject
He eventually goes back over to his own bed. Though the circumstances are far from ideal, being here under the ocean and far from their home, but he's glad to have Ubbe by his side again.