For Deathsastart007

I know in the show, neither Borg's first wife, his brother, nor his father are named; but for this request I will be changing that 😊 And everything in italics are memories, hallucinations.

He had made his way through the people. The light of the torches and the burning braziers, the only things illuminating the otherwise pitch-black night. No moon, no stars seen, as Borg knelt; his eyes not focused on the crowd that surrounded the stage, from which he and Ragnar commanded the attention of all those gathered; no, his eyes looked to the dark brown skull that he had carefully placed on the plinth nearby.

(Y/n)........His beloved (Y/n). If she had not died, not been poisoned by his own brother, he would not be the one about to die. It would be Ragnar, Horvik, that would be on their knees. It would be Rollo, Flóki, Torstein that were about to be sacrificed. Borg ignoring Ragnar, as he spread open his arms, as the Earl of Kattegat moved the hair away from his face. The Jarl's eyes momentarily looking at Torvi, before something caught his attention, a movement in the crowd. A body.........no, no, a spirit, for that was the only thing that it could be, drifted passed those that had come to watch him die. The breath catching in his throat as through the shimmer created by the fires, he could finally see her face. The face of the woman that he had love more than life itself. The Jarl nodding slightly as he saw her smile; his eyes closing as Ragnar made the first cut.

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"Borg..........don't, someone might see us........." An all too familiar giggling voice came. Borg opening his eyes to find (Y/n) in front of him, caged between his arms; her back pressed up against a tree. Her visage as beautiful as the last time that he had seen her. For even in death, she had still been the most perfect woman in Götaland.

"Let them see, what are they going to say, huh? I am now the Jarl, and you are my wife. So, let them mutter between themselves; let them talk about seeing their new Jarl making love to his woman. For I plan to make love to you wherever and whenever I can; so, it will not be the first time that they might see us. And maybe, I will even take you at the feast to celebrate our wedding and my succession, tonight......" Borg replied moving in to kiss her, only to find that his bride to be, had quickly ducked under his arm and was backing away from him. The oldest son of the old Jarl Alrek, doing his best not to smile, as he stalked towards her; but how could he not smile when he looked at something so exquisite.

When he had been informed by his father that a princess was coming from a nearby kingdom to be wed to him, Borg could not pretend that he liked the notion. He was happy with his life as it was and had not been interested in the notion of having to wed a woman in some kind of alliance. Telling his father that he should marry this princess to his younger brother, Erik. That he was sure that it would still be good enough to appease her father; yet when she had arrived in Götaland, and as soon as she had stepped foot out of the carriage, Borg knew that he was lost; that he had to have her. The oldest son of the Jarl, only able to stare as he watched his father take the ladies hand and introduce her to Erik; his mind going to what he had said, that it was to his brother that she should be wed; but he could not have that, not now. Borg running to where his father, his brother, and the lady were speaking.

"Erik is to be your........"

"Your brother.........." Borg had interrupted his father, as he moved to the older man's side; before taking her hand from his brother's.

"And I........I am to be your husband.........." He had continued, before bringing her hand up to his lips. Borg too blinded by the woman in front of him, to see that his brother was as besotted as he was. Though that desire had now tinged with a hatred, that Borg did not know would change his life.

Over their time together, Borg had found that not only was his wife to be, beautiful, but intelligent too. His own father, before his death, even having taken to listening to her sage advice. And now, after his father had passed and he had finally taken his rightful place as the Jarl of Götaland, Borg had no intention of not keeping her close and listening to whatever she may have to say..........

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Borg looked up, the images of when he had been truly happy, leaving him, as the blade cut deeper into his flesh. He did not cry out; he would not cry out, having no desire to give his enemies the satisfaction. He was a Viking and would die a Viking. His blood seeping into the wood beneath him; it splashed over the skull of his beloved bride. New images, old memories coming back to him, as Ragnar began to hack at his ribs with an axe.

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The festivities were in full swing, Borg celebrating with the love of his life, and with those that had supported him. The Jarl looking up as his brother called for a new barrel of mead to be brought into the hall. Erik getting to his feet and pouring cups for all those in the hall; no one noticing that only two of those drinks had not come from the new barrel. Borg smiling as his brother placed a cup in front of him, and one in front of (Y/n).

"To you, brother.........And to our dear Frú............." Erik called out, as he raised his cup. (Y/n) placing her hand over Borgs drink, before he could return the compliment to his brother.

"(Y/n)..........?"

"I need to tell you something......something important. Something else to celebrate. Not only are you now the Jarl, and a husband; but through the grace of the gods, you are also going to be a father.........." (Y/n) told him quietly, a huge smile coming to his lips at her words. A father.......he was going to be a father. Borg sure that his life could not get any better than it was. That he now had everything that he could want. The Jarl getting to his feet; yet his happiness had blinded him to the fact that (Y/n) had taken his cup, and he had the one that had been intended for her. Borg standing up proudly and making his own toast. A toast to his brother, to his new rule, his beautiful wife and the child that he had just discovered was growing inside her. Cheers and shout of congratulation filling the hall, before the Jarl called out 'skål!'; all around joining him before downing their drinks. Borg looking over to his wide-eyed brother, as those around them began to choke and splutter; clawing at their throats as the poison coursed through them. The son of Arlek dropping to his knees and taking his pregnant wife into his arms, as she lay there, struggling to breath. Her hand shaking, as she reached up and placed it on his cheek.

"I.......love........you, Borg. I.......I always.......always will........" She managed to tell him. Giving him one last smile, before the light of life left her eyes..............

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The sounds of his ribs being cracked, one by one, made the faces of many of those present, turn away, or look on the spectacle, with disgust. One word leaving Borg's lips before Ragnar removed his lungs from his body. The name of his first wife filling the air. The spirit moving closer and placing her hand on his bloodied cheek.

"I am here, my love. I have come to take you home..........." (Y/n) told him. Borg smiling and nodding slightly, before happily closing his eyes, one last time.........