ragnarsson | IC Inbox

[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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