[Ivar had invited his father over to the mansion to meet his granddaughter. He'd pampered Winter a little more than was necessary during the morning to make sure she was in a good mood. He didn't want her accidentally draining her grandfather of life force because she got into a cranky mood. He dressed her up in a unique onesie complete with a little bow for her white hair. The whole outfit complimented her pale skin and red pupils quite well.
When Ragnar arrived, he had Winter sitting on his lap, looking around her with mild interest. Ivar looked about as proud a father as he could possibly be.]
This is your granddaughter, Winter Istrid Regis Ivarsdottir.
[It was a long name for a little baby, but somehow, it fit her well.]
[If there was one thing that the ruthless and feared Viking warrior Ragnar Lothbrok had a weakness for, it was children. He couldn't help it. He had a soft spot for all kids, but especially his own, so meeting his granddaughter was a big deal.
Ragnar hadn't really expected anything besides a (mostly) normal baby. Sure, Ivar had told him the child had some kind of magic abilities, but he hadn't expected the white hair and red eyes. The hair, he could easily overlook, the eyes... well, those were different.
He held out his hands, wanting to hold her, only hesitating slightly to get a better look at her unique appearance.] Her eyes... did her mother's look the same? Is that common for her people? [Who was he to say that there weren't some races of men with white hair and red eyes. He knew he hadn't met them all.] Come here, Winter. I'm your grandpa. [He offered a warm smile down at the child, cooing quietly.]
[Ivar explained her strange looks as he passed Winter over. He'd known Ragnar would love her. For all the many faults the man had, Ivar knew that his father loved children, especially his own.]
No. Letha had green eyes and dark hair. Winter's something called an albino. It means there's no coloration to her skin or hair. The eyes seem to be a side effect.
[Winter looked up at Ragnar, eyes more interested now. Maybe it was the fact he had an accent similar to his son or maybe it was the fact they shared the same eyes, but her little brow wrinkled in confusion, as if she was trying to place who this new and somewhat similiar face was. Her little hand wrapped around one of Ragnar's fingers. There was just a quick moment where Ivar went tense, but after nothing happened to provoke her powers, he relaxed again.]
[Ragnar took the child and sat her down on his lap, turned so she could easily look up at him and still have a good view of Ivar. Supported by one of his arms, she could play with his other hand, which she immediately started doing, grabbing one of his fingers with both hands.
He was much too distracted by the child to notice Ivar's momentary nervousness.]
Albino. I have never heard of it. [He idly, leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of her head, which immediately sent her hands after his, still relatively short, beard.] Except for her eyes, she does not look so different from what your brother, BjΓΆrn, looked like at this age. Hair like snow. [He switched to speaking to Winter in a quieter voice.] Yes, he did. [He then proceeded to make faces at her.]
[Winter seemed to be relaxed and happy, the ideal conditions to meet Ragnar under. She murmurs quietly in babbling baby talk, no discernible words yet, but clearly with intent that she means something specific.]
I think she saying that she likes you.
[Winter, like her father, tended to make snap judgments about people like that. If she hadn't taken to Ragnar, she would have been much more fussy and distressed, calling out to Ivar in a nervous tone.]
Is that so? [Ragnar was, for the moment, still speaking to Winter, obviously enjoying her babbling and encouraging her to continue. Fingers splayed, she raised her hand like she was trying to block his mouth, but kept her hand open, his beard tickling her palm. She giggled when he raised his eyebrows and opened his eyes wide.]
I think she may be telling me to be quiet, like most of them women that meet me. [As if on cue, she gently pressed her hand forward over his mouth again and giggled.]
[The gods had been good to Ivar. They'd given him his father back after he thought he would never see him again. Now, Ragnar got the chance to meet his granddaughter, something he would never have the chance to do at home. It made happiness well up inside Ivar, and for that reason, he was wary of the emotion. Good things never lasted in his life. Always, things were taken away from him no matter how he tried to hold onto them.
He watched Ragnar and Winter without saying anything. It brought back distant memories from his own early childhood. Even then, he'd adored his father, despite how brief the periods of time were that he was around, and how distant Ragnar could sometimes be from him. He hadn't known how to interact with his youngest the way he did with the other three. It wasn't until he'd come back when Ivar was fifteen that he truly seemed to accept his son.]
You stay with many people here. [He knew this place. Marco's.] Gyda stays here also.
[Like some kind of switch, Winter went from laughing, babbling and grabbing at him to yawning, her eyelids looking like they were simply too heavy to keep open. Ragnar eased her into the crook of his arm so she could close her eyes and sleep securely against his chest.]
How is she? [Of course, Ragnar had spoken to her, but Ivar likely saw her more often and he knew this house and how safe it was.]
They're all good people, if a little strange. [He lived with a guy who shapeshifted into different animals and another who raised the dead. Lola was probably the most normal out of all of them and she had color-changing hair.
He watches as Winter falls asleep with a soft look on his face. This was such a picture perfect scene and he took out his phone to take one. He'd obviously had no photos to remember Ragnar by when he came to this place, so he'd have to make up for that now.]
She's adapting well now that she's better. All the strange things here don't seem to phase her all that much.
[Ragnar gave Ivar a questioning look when he pulled out his phone, no idea what he was up to. If he'd known pictures were happening, he would have most definitely pulled a face.]
That confuses me. From her story, they brought her here before the fever took her. Has she disappeared back in our world? Or... [he sighed] this place is not easy to understand.
[He idly rocked Winter as he thought.] If... you are here. And I am here. I must have returned? How else would you have been born? How else would you have that memory of me... old.? [This was starting to hurt his head.]
[Ivar doesn't profess to have all the answers even after all these months. But at least he can shed a little light on the situation, though he is rather enjoying Ragnar's confusion.]
Don't think about it too hard. It'll hurt your brain. From what they explained, when they send us back, we're returned right from the moment we left, so time continues on as it should. It's possible to go back, but their machine doesn't work right. But I'm already working on a way to go back temporarily.
[He had revenge to take care of and a war he was in the middle of. Not even everything he had here in Riverview could dissuade him of his course of action.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Action
When Ragnar arrived, he had Winter sitting on his lap, looking around her with mild interest. Ivar looked about as proud a father as he could possibly be.]
This is your granddaughter, Winter Istrid Regis Ivarsdottir.
[It was a long name for a little baby, but somehow, it fit her well.]
no subject
Ragnar hadn't really expected anything besides a (mostly) normal baby. Sure, Ivar had told him the child had some kind of magic abilities, but he hadn't expected the white hair and red eyes. The hair, he could easily overlook, the eyes... well, those were different.
He held out his hands, wanting to hold her, only hesitating slightly to get a better look at her unique appearance.] Her eyes... did her mother's look the same? Is that common for her people? [Who was he to say that there weren't some races of men with white hair and red eyes. He knew he hadn't met them all.] Come here, Winter. I'm your grandpa. [He offered a warm smile down at the child, cooing quietly.]
no subject
No. Letha had green eyes and dark hair. Winter's something called an albino. It means there's no coloration to her skin or hair. The eyes seem to be a side effect.
[Winter looked up at Ragnar, eyes more interested now. Maybe it was the fact he had an accent similar to his son or maybe it was the fact they shared the same eyes, but her little brow wrinkled in confusion, as if she was trying to place who this new and somewhat similiar face was. Her little hand wrapped around one of Ragnar's fingers. There was just a quick moment where Ivar went tense, but after nothing happened to provoke her powers, he relaxed again.]
no subject
He was much too distracted by the child to notice Ivar's momentary nervousness.]
Albino. I have never heard of it. [He idly, leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of her head, which immediately sent her hands after his, still relatively short, beard.] Except for her eyes, she does not look so different from what your brother, BjΓΆrn, looked like at this age. Hair like snow. [He switched to speaking to Winter in a quieter voice.] Yes, he did. [He then proceeded to make faces at her.]
no subject
I think she saying that she likes you.
[Winter, like her father, tended to make snap judgments about people like that. If she hadn't taken to Ragnar, she would have been much more fussy and distressed, calling out to Ivar in a nervous tone.]
no subject
I think she may be telling me to be quiet, like most of them women that meet me. [As if on cue, she gently pressed her hand forward over his mouth again and giggled.]
no subject
He watched Ragnar and Winter without saying anything. It brought back distant memories from his own early childhood. Even then, he'd adored his father, despite how brief the periods of time were that he was around, and how distant Ragnar could sometimes be from him. He hadn't known how to interact with his youngest the way he did with the other three. It wasn't until he'd come back when Ivar was fifteen that he truly seemed to accept his son.]
no subject
[Like some kind of switch, Winter went from laughing, babbling and grabbing at him to yawning, her eyelids looking like they were simply too heavy to keep open. Ragnar eased her into the crook of his arm so she could close her eyes and sleep securely against his chest.]
How is she? [Of course, Ragnar had spoken to her, but Ivar likely saw her more often and he knew this house and how safe it was.]
no subject
He watches as Winter falls asleep with a soft look on his face. This was such a picture perfect scene and he took out his phone to take one. He'd obviously had no photos to remember Ragnar by when he came to this place, so he'd have to make up for that now.]
She's adapting well now that she's better. All the strange things here don't seem to phase her all that much.
no subject
That confuses me. From her story, they brought her here before the fever took her. Has she disappeared back in our world? Or... [he sighed] this place is not easy to understand.
[He idly rocked Winter as he thought.] If... you are here. And I am here. I must have returned? How else would you have been born? How else would you have that memory of me... old.? [This was starting to hurt his head.]
no subject
Don't think about it too hard. It'll hurt your brain. From what they explained, when they send us back, we're returned right from the moment we left, so time continues on as it should. It's possible to go back, but their machine doesn't work right. But I'm already working on a way to go back temporarily.
[He had revenge to take care of and a war he was in the middle of. Not even everything he had here in Riverview could dissuade him of his course of action.]
no subject
From the very moment we left? Hm. That is interesting.
[Naturally, he's already scheming.]