ragnarsson | IC Inbox

"I'm Letha - Letha Isidora Regis." From how quickly she speaks, it's almost as if she only asked so she can introduce herself. And boy, is she proud of her name, it is a mark of absolutely perfect breeding and total domination over every inch of the world she's seen before she came to Riverview. Everything about her seems to puff up like a bird displaying its feathers as she speaks.

"You don't seem boneless, you'd be floppy if you were. You seem more like a... Ivar the Angry Man In A Spiky Chair. But that doesn't sound very heroic, does it? Maybe just Ivar the Angry. Or Ivar the Mad, but you don't seem crazy at all." She seems to have sound a new tangent to wander off on.

That name seems to echo in his mind for a second like he's heard it somewhere else before. There's some meaning attached to it. But the memories that came before in this place have all but faded away, leaving him only with what he knows now.

He listens to her prattle on and his eyes flash dangerously when she calls him crazy. Oh how he hates when people call him that. Even if it's the truth, he doesn't want to dwell on how unstable he is. If Ivar had been himself, he would have already been threatening the girl with a knife. But since he has more patience currently, he's at least trying to control his temper. "If you really want to see me angry, just keep opening up your mouth. See what happens."

She's starting to get the sense that she might be in some danger... but Letha does not care at all about danger. It will be a few years before she learns that fear and suffering will be present in her life too, not just everyone around her.

"I bet I could take you on if you got angry." She responds without missing a beat, pulling out her wooden training sword from the belt of her dress both to display proudly and to have ready if he really does try to hurt her. It's not sharp and his ax could easily smash through it, but it looks heavy enough to give a decent bruise. "You can't walk, so you can't be a very good fighter."

Well.. she could definitely do with some humbling.

Oh, that's it. She just insulted his ability not to walk. He doesn't care if this little girl is half his age, he is going to teach her a lesson in manners. Despite his lack of mobility, Ivar can still be quite fast in certain areas when he needed to be. He bats away the sword with one hand, and with the other, quick as a flash, he's got Letha by the back of her dress, actually lifting her up off the ground so that her toes barely skim the sidewalk.

He pulls out a knife with his other hand, and while he's got enough restraint not to actually hold it up to her skin, he points it at her like he means business. "I've had just about enough of you and your nonsense. Now, I want an apology for all those nasty little things you said, or I'm going to start carving runes into your skin." He won't. Probably. Hurting a child would be a new low even for the teenage Viking.

She was ready to fight when he reached a hand toward her, but it's undeniable that he's much stronger than her. The sword stings her hands a bit as it's knocked to the ground, and she lets out a little indignant squeak as he picks her up and points the knife at her.

"Let me go!" She whines in protest, wiggling to try and get a grip on the ground below her. "You can't hurt me, I'm little and I'm a noble, it's against the laws!"

Not that she knows what laws, but she's pretty sure it's against something. Still, Letha fears nothing, not even an angry man with a knife. There is no sign of fear in her, only indignation and anger.

He pulls Letha closer towards him, icy blue eyes burning into her's. Oh, he's going to put the fear of the gods into this bratty child before he's done with her. "I'm still not hearing an apology."

He shakes her back and forth like a little ragdoll until her teeth are chattering in her head. Should he feel bad about such rough treatment with a child? Someone with more empathy would, but Ivar's been annoyed enough by the little brat to take great pleasure in seeing her uncomfortable.

"Now, are you going to say you're sorry?"

As he starts to shake her, Letha starts screaming at the top of her lungs. It's not from fear; it's from a mix of shock and anger, and even as her skull feels like it's rattling in her head she just shrieks and struggles.

Finally he gives her another chance to speak and she just continues to wiggle, now trying to reach behind her to try and grab his hand. "Stop! You're hurting me! Let me down so I can hit you back!"

It's unfair to be picked up like this, and she hates it. She's sure she could beat him if he just went easy on her like most adults did.

Man, that is a horrendous noise. It's a good thing there's no one around to hear it or Ivar would be in a lot of trouble. It never looks good when a grown man is manhandling a little girl. Even if this one did deserve everything that was coming to her.

"Why would I do that, you little brat?" Nope, he's not letting go of her anytime soon. Instead, he holds up the knife to one of her green eyes, the tip only a few inches away. "I think maybe I'll take one of them out. You only need one to see." He's not going to. Ivar's not that cruel.

Now, that gets her attention. She nearly goes crosseyed trying to look at the point of the knife, and lets out a little squeak of shock. No, she doesn't want to lose her eyes. Death she can handle, but mutilation is far from okay.

"No! No no no! Let me go!" She's in tears now, not struggling but instead just trying to shrink away from him despite being stuck where she is.

Alright, a child terrified out of her mind and crying is good enough for Ivar as far as an apology goes. He sets her back down on the ground and flexes his hand a few times. It's not easy holding someone up for any length of time, even if they are a tiny eight year old.

"You need to learn to have respect for your elders and betters. See that you remember that." She probably won't take the lesson to heart, but he's proved his point.

If he thought for even a moment that teaching Letha Regis anything was going to be as easy as scaring her half to death... well. The moment she's able to touch the ground she darts a few feet away, and sticks her tongue out to blow a raspberry at him.

"You're not my better, you're just old and dumb!"

And with that, the charming little girl has dashed away before she has to suffer away retaliation.

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