[Ivar is sound asleep when Letha comes crawling into his bed. He's never one to be troubled by nightmares or guilt from past actions, for Ivar doesn't regret the things he's done. Everything had a reason or goal to achieve behind it. It leaves him to dream only of things he longs for: the family he left behind, the loved ones already gone to the afterlife.
He's awake almost instantly when he feels someone touch him, instincts that are burned into his very bones reacting as he grabs a knife that he keeps to the side of his pillow. He's not even fully awake when he grabs Letha by her hair and pulls her head back, pressing the knife to her pale throat. He blinks and his mind catches up.]
Letha? [He pulls the knife away, the hand in her hair easing up but still tangled in her locks. His voice is harsh, masking the concern beneath it] That was a stupid thing to do.
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He's awake almost instantly when he feels someone touch him, instincts that are burned into his very bones reacting as he grabs a knife that he keeps to the side of his pillow. He's not even fully awake when he grabs Letha by her hair and pulls her head back, pressing the knife to her pale throat. He blinks and his mind catches up.]
Letha? [He pulls the knife away, the hand in her hair easing up but still tangled in her locks. His voice is harsh, masking the concern beneath it] That was a stupid thing to do.