You know, for someone who doesn't have their shit together most of the time, sometimes you have good advice.

[He means that in the best way possible really. Winter's starting to squirm around, fussy in the way that babies get when they're tired, but are too stubborn to admit sleeping is a good idea. Ivar presses a kiss to the top of her head, gently holding her against his shoulder while he strokes her back to send her to sleep.]

I do get worried sometimes what might happen if someone decides to get to me by hurting her.

[If Bucky was worried about what might happen if the teen lost control now, he hadn't seen anything yet. Any harm to Winter, and Ivar would see the whole city burned down, and corpses strewn everywhere before his rampage was through.]