ragnarsson | IC Inbox

[It's been a while since the last time they spoke, when Ivar had crept in to tell him in broken hearted words about becoming a single parent. He has to wonder if the teenager has thought any more about what Bucky told him about revenge and war, but if he hasn't-- well, somehow it doesn't matter for now.

He finds that he's concerned, keeps thinking about how Ivar might be coping on his own, and so he eventually slips into town and skulks around until he spots the familiar chair in the distance, falling into step beside him as if this is nothing unusual.]

Hey.

[He looks so awkward, he's not used to being the one who initiates the contact.]

[Ivar's become more used to Bucky's abrupt appearances and retreats when he get uncomfortable with the conversation. His hand doesn't even reach for the axe at his side when his friend shows up next to him. He hadn't exactly been pleased with the way their last conversation had gone, but it hadn't ended with the strained tones that happened so often.

Ivar looks alright, though there's perhaps a touch of weariness to his eyes. Winter's been keeping him up at night. It's tough when he's the only parent around to soothe his child's whimpering at two in the morning.]

Hello. How long were you following me? [He has no doubts that Bucky was tracking him for some time before he made his presence known.]

A while.

[He's not ashamed of it, he would never bring himself down into a situation without fully scouting it out first. To do that is to practically invite a trap.]

Came to see how you were.

[That's the closest he can come to voicing that he's actually been worried about the Viking teenager, but he has.]

[Ivar's tempted to just respond with the usual 'I'm fine' that he does with everyone else. He's afraid to show how he really feels, for fear that it would be seen as weakness. But Bucky is different, so he gives him an honest answer.]

I've been better. It still hurts, but not as much as it did.

[Ivar is going down a side street, back towards the mansion where he now lives, having moved out of communal housing. It had been no place to raise a baby. He doesn't tell Bucky where they're going, afraid it might cause the ex-assassin to bolt. He just sort of leads him back there.]

Winter's gotten bigger. She keeps me up most nights.

Babies do that.

[It's good that he's healing. He wouldn't have believed Ivar if he'd said he was okay already, and he would've been worried if he'd still been deep in depression. But a slow heal... that's good, that's normal.

The set to his shoulders relaxes ever so slightly.]

I have-- had-- younger sisters, I know what babies are like.

[The small snippet of information comes as a surprise to Ivar. Bucky so rarely lets things about his past slip. He'd wondered if the time when they'd both been their alternate selves had been his past or from a different universe altogether, but he'd never asked, afraid Bucky wouldn't answer him at all.]

I've never had to deal with one before. I was the youngest one in my family. Here we are.

[They've come to a large mansion. He pushes open the door. There doesn't seem to be anyone about, but in a house this big, it's easy for people not to run into one another if they don't want to.]

Come on in.

[He waits for Bucky to enter before he does himself, so that Bucky doesn't have the chance to say no. Then he wheels over to the elevator, pushing the button to take them up to the second floor, where Ivar and Winter's quarters are at. She's being taken care of by a nanny right now, one of the caregivers Ivar has come to rely on for when he can't be there for his daughter. Being a single parent is hard enough for adults, let alone a sixteen year old teenager who thinks he's older than he is.]

[He very nearly doesn't go in, even with Ivar waiting for him to go first, and when he does eventually step in then he tenses up once they're trapped in the elevator together.]

Any reason you've brought me back here?

[Ivar's not an idiot, he has to know that Bucky prefers their conversations to take place in locations that are easy to beat a hasty retreat from.]

We've known each other for months and the only time you ever showed your face when I was in communal housing was the first time we met.

[Which had only happened because Bucky was stealing food and Ivar decided picking a fight with a strange man with a metal arm was a good idea.]

Consider this a place to turn to if your abandoned buildings ever get compromised. You're a bit predictable when it comes to hiding in them. [Maybe not to an average person, but to a tactician like Ivar, it's more obvious.] And there's enough room if you need a place to stay for a few days.

[He knows it'll be a cold day in hell if Bucky ever actually takes up the offer, but it's there nonetheless. It's a sign of affection for his friend that he's offering at all.]

Besides, there's showers here.

[He smirks at his not so subtle dig at Bucky's homeless lifestyle.]

[There's no way that he's ever going to stay in someone else's home, even Clark hadn't managed to get him to do that before he left, especially not when there's a defenceless little baby on the premises.

But rather than just outright refusing, he nods to show that he understands the gesture is made out of kindness.]

You brought me here because you think I smell?

[Seriously, kid?]

[Well, the offer has been made, and as with all Viking hospitality, it's a standing offer. To invite someone into your home back in the 800s was a very big deal and done with no small amount of gravitas. It showed how much Ivar had come to trust his strange, unstable friend.

How dare you think such a thing, Bucky, he looks as innocent as a baby goat with that expression on his face.]

........Maybe.

[Alright, he's a terrible little shit, and he knows it. Ivar needs to be cuffed around the head at regular intervals to keep him in line.]

[Bucky isn't about to buy that innocent expression for even half a second, he's got to know Ivar too well for that now.]

Sure, well you can go on hoping because I ain't showering in your home.

[Said completely genially.]

[Ivar tsks and shakes his head. Well, it had been worth a shot.]

Fine then. Continue smelling like a goat. See if I care.

[The elevator opens up on the hallway that leads to Ivar's rooms. He wheels himself to Winter's one. There's a pretty, small woman with black, straight hair pinned back watching the infant, who is currently hugging a stuffed lamb like she'll never let go again. Ivar greets the woman by the name Adeline, asking how Winter was. After finding out that Winter had been her usual quiet self, he pays the woman, and then sends her on her way.

Ivar picks Winter up and turns back to face Bucky. She's feeling wriggly today and he has to keep a firm grip on his daughter.]

Want to hold her?

[After all, who wouldn't want to hold such a cute, little baby?]

[He doesn't actually smell that bad. Contrary to popular belief, he does wash himself a fair amount of time so as not to give himself away if he sneaks up on anyone. Smelling too strongly either way, bad or good, is not an ideal state for someone who needs to be subtle.

He looks like a rabbit in the headlights of an approaching train when Ivar offers him Winter, taking an instinctive half step back.]

You shouldn't trust me with your kid, there's lines that shouldn't be crossed.

[Sorry, Bucky, he can't help but laugh at the look on your face. It's not often he manages to catch the ex-assassin that much off-guard with a few simple words. He props up Winter into the sitting position, supporting her little neck so she can look around. She's moving her little hand back and forth, the lamb shaking floppily in her grasp.]

You look like I just asked you to walk barefoot across hot coals. I'll take that as a no.

[He doesn't remark on the idea of trust. Perhaps he does trust Bucky too much. But he can't believe anyone would be callous enough to hurt a defenseless child. Even Ivar, crazy and psychopathic as he is, has never slipped that far into dangerous thinking. If he ever had that inkling around Bucky, he wouldn't have hesitated to do everything in his power to put the other man in the ground permanently.

He glances down at Winter, smoothing down a tuft of her pale hair, white without the slightest hint of any other color. Ivar's face softens a little, both with love and sadness.]

She looks like her mother.

Most baby girls do.

[At least he's going on what little he remembers of his family, and the way all three of his sisters had turned out as miniature copies of their mother. It was good, really, they could have done worse than turn out like Winifred Barnes.]

But she ain't her Ma, she'll do better things and you'll raise her up to be good.

[He didn't know Letha, but since his overwhelming experience with her has been of her hating her baby and then abandoning both baby and father to go to a world that's not even hers, he doesn't think she was particularly good.]

I don't know about good.

[Ivar knows he's not a good person. He's excellent at being a good Viking, but here in this place, everything is so different, and most would consider what he does to be terribly bad. All these months later, he still finds it hard to acclimate to the new culture sometimes. To raise a child up, instill in her the values of the Viking culture, while teaching her how to blend into society with her strange powers, it's a daunting task.]

I'll try for good enough.

[Winter drops her lamb, making a small, soft squeak of distress at losing her favorite toy. Ivar leans over to the side and picks it back up, letting her grab a hold of it again. She seems to find comfort in the soft feeling of the stuffed animal against her own body.]

Pretty sure that's what all parents manage.

[There's no such thing as a perfect child, after all. Nobody ever grows up to get it all right and be good all the time, there are going to be mistakes and there's going to be bad things in their future.]

As long as you do the best you can, that's all you can offer her. Any mistakes she makes after that are her own to make.

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.]

Maybe try not to make so many enemies, then.

[It's almost a tease, the hint of a smile at his lips as he stands up. He can see Winter giving him the out that he needs to get away again, out of a building so trapped in on all sides.]

Looks like your kid wants to take a nap, so maybe I should leave you to it.

[Because he's always the loudest person around...]

[Solid advice, though Ivar won't take it. He's just born to be angry and subsequently piss people off. Winter starts to settle down, her breathing becoming light and easy. She'll be fast asleep in just a few moments.]

Why don't you stay for a few minutes? Have a beer and some sandwiches in the kitchen?

[You know, he a couple of normal people instead of being a crazy teenage Viking and an even crazier ex-assassin.]

No.

[A part of him feels a mild pang of regret for refusing, but he doesn't want to stay within four walls at a house he doesn't know and hasn't scouted out properly. So he takes a step back towards the door.]

Not this time.

[And then he's gone, abrupt and swift, just like that.]

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late september; action;

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Keywords are very fitting

ahahaha

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