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[ragnarsson]

Wait, so I just speak? That's how it works?...Fine...This is Ivar Ragnarsson. Do what you will.

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[ragnarsson]

[He comes to the realization she didn't mean for him to see this just as she figures out she pressed the wrong button. It makes him feel a little like he's walked in on something he wasn't supposed to see.]

I've never seen it down before.

[It's a nice length, perfect for braiding. Which is starting to give him a bit of an idea...]

Why don't you ever wear it other than that style with the three buns?

[talentedscavenger]

[It's not that she doesn't want anyone to see her with her hair down, it's just...something she's so used to.]

Surprised by the length? [Teasing a little, her hands smoothing out her hair, reaching for her hair brush. Nevermind the fact that Poe nor Finn have seen her with her hair down.]

It keeps my hair out of my face. I don't want it getting caught on anything. [And having it pulled or yanked by something....and because well..] It's a style I've worn since I was a child.

[ragnarsson]

Yes, it looks longer than I thought it would be.

[Long and thick. For someone living in the middle of a desert, she'd done a good job of keeping it from turning into a rat's nest.]

You haven't changed it up since you were a child?

[Tsk. Someone's never lived. Ivar, like most Vikings, are used to the intricate hairstyles of home, something that comes from living in place where there's very little to do for fun. He only keeps his hair short for purely practical reasons. He's already got enough disadvantages in battle without an enemy coming up and yanking his hair back so they can slit his throat.]

[talentedscavenger]

What can I say? I'm full of surprises. [More teasing, sort of concentrating on talking with him, and doing her hair. Her hands working on the first bun.]

Yes, it's the only hair style I've had. Like I said, it keeps my hair away from my face. Didn't have time to try a new style, nor did I want to.

[It's who she is. It's her over all look. It's...one of the few ties she has to her family.]

[ragnarsson]

Why don't you change it up today?

[The words come out a bit impulsively before Ivar can even really think about them.]

I can show you a new style that I bet you'd like.

[A Viking that knew how to do intricate hairstyles? Ivar was just full of surprises. Besides, he'd learned how to do them a long time ago. It helped keep the dexterity of his fingers, always something need when throwing a knife or pulling back on a bowstring.]

[talentedscavenger]

Come again?

[The notion of changing her hair style is...it's something she hasn't considered before. Surprise is clearly written on her face. Not because she doesn't doubt he could do hair (because he seems like he knows more than her just from the get go), but he's willing to.]

...Sure?

[She has no idea what exactly she's agreeing to, but it can't be bad right? Forget that she said she couldn't see him today, hence the initial call, but he's completely disregarded that.]

[ragnarsson]

Good! I'll be right over.

[The idea she might at all be hesitant or not precisely understand what he's going to do never crosses Ivar's mind. He just sort of steamrolls and does his own thing regardless.

He gathers up some necessary supplies, puts them into a bag, and heads on over to the communal housing. He rides up to Rey's floor and wheels himself in. He looks her over with the same way a general looks over a new potential soldier.]

Alright. Let's get started again. Brush, please.

[talentedscavenger]

O-okay?

[She sounds so unsure at the moment, wondering what exactly lead to her cancelling plans to suddenly having Ivar come over to her room. Maybe she should ask Poe or Cisco if this was a common thing that people do; doing each other's hair...

She doesn't have much time to dwell on it as Ivar is at her door, letting himself right on in...and why is he looking at her like she's about to go into battle?]

I already brushed my hair out. [But she gives him the brush and undos her first bun. Rey moves to sit on the edge of her bed, that way she's not kneeling or sitting on the floor.]

You don't have to do this, you know.

[ragnarsson]

Well, I'm brushing it out again.

[He says bossily. He takes the brush and begins to stroke it through her hair gently, making sure not to catch on any stray tangles that might still be present.]

I know. But I want to. It's been months since I've had the chance to do anyone's hair.

[The last time had been long before he'd come to Riverview. It had probably been one of his brothers, Hvitserk maybe, who had woken up late, and had very little time to get his hair into the usual intricate patterns that the Ragnarssons seemed to favor. Ivar had helped out.]

[talentedscavenger]

[There's a huff from Rey, sitting there with her legs crossed. It's...surprising how gentle he could be--with his daughter, with her hair. It's striking to know he has this side of himself, and then there's the side that enjoys battle.]

This is something you'd do often?

[She's curious how often he's done this, and already picturing that he'd do the same with his daughter when her hair is long enough. And she wouldn't admit it out loud, but there's a strange sort of...relaxing quality, having someone brush out her hair.]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar finishes brushing Rey's hair out. He looks it over with a critical eye, picturing the different styles he could do. He immediately discards anything that's too simple. She's had enough simplicity with her three buns.

Finally, he decides on one that looks fancy and intricate enough, but one that he won't have to spend hours on. He begins to divide the sections of hair, tying off the smaller ones while keeping the larger pieces in the middle for the French braid.]

Often enough. Almost all Vikings, men and women, wear their hair long. It was boring as a child not being able to play with the other children, so I had to learn new things to entertain myself with. Hold this, please.

[He takes the feathered piece off the first stitch and pulls it forward over her face. His fingers work quickly, able to easily section off pieces of hair and braid them back in.]

[talentedscavenger]

[Rey has no idea what he's thinking. To her, her hair is...simply her hair. It's something she's used to handling on her own, and when she has to cut it, it's done with a blade. Oddly enough, it's starting to dawn on her that this is the first time she's letting someone touch her hair and do something with it...

Odd, very odd.]

Make sense, then why do you keep your hair short?

[Well, she suppose it's still long enough to braid, or maybe it's not. Either way, she holds the piece that's now in front of her face.]

[ragnarsson]

[Ivar couldn't have said why he'd decided to do this. He rarely examined why he did anything. He said what he wanted and did what he wanted at all times. Right now, this was what he wanted to do.]

Practicality. I'd like it longer-- hold this-- [And he hands her another section of feathered hair.] --but that's too much of a disadvantage on the battlefield. Someone can yank it back and slit your throat, or grab hold of it and smash your head forward.

[Ivar had actually let it grow ever-so-slightly longer since coming to the Quarantine, but it still didn't go past his neck. Just long enough to sweep back into his usual style.]

[talentedscavenger]

[She does as she's told, holding another piece of her own hair. Her eyes examining the ends of her strands, pondering if maybe it was time to cut it.]

That make sense. Again, I keep my hair in those buns to keep it out of my hair. The last thing I need is for my hair to get caught on something or have it be singed off by accident....

And it kept the sand out of my hair for the most part.

[Which was a good thing in the desert.]

[ragnarsson]

I can see why you would do that. Like I said, practicality is key. Hold these.

[He hands her the two last feathered sections, tying off the end of the braid. He goes to work on the right section, beginning the second French braid.]

My mother was the queen and had very intricate hairstyles. I used to watch her slaves help her in the morning. It would have taken her hours to do on her own. Alright, hand back the first section.

[He folds it back into the braid, leaving a lovely trail of hair stretching from the first braid down to the second, creating the feathered effect.]

This is turning out nicely. [Ivar sounds very pleased with himself. He's glad to know he's not lost any of his skills.]

[talentedscavenger]

[She's holding more of her own hair, and she can't figure out what he's doing exactly. There's some tension on her head, from the braid being formed, but it's not painful.

Well..that's something she didn't know. His mother was royalty and he was..]

You're a prince? [She hands him that first strand back, nearly turning a little to look at him. He never mentioned that before! Okay, maybe that's...that's bit cool, but she's not going to let that color her vision.]

So you spent most days watching people braid your mother's hair. Did she let you practice on her? [Rey can't remember if that's how she learned how to do her hairstyle. If she watched her mother, or if her mother crafted her hair before leaving Jakku.

And she's not going to bring up the slaves part. Some star systems still had that, and in some aspects, Rey had been a slave in all but in name. She worked for Plutt who controlled how much food she received...and it wasn't like she could go anywhere else.]

[ragnarsson]

Yes. Did I never mention that? Next section, please. [Ivar does have things he keeps to himself and being royalty tends to be one of them. Daenerys had only gotten it out of him because she herself was a queen and he felt the need to show they were on an equal level.] The official titles are Prince of the Danes or Prince of Kattegat.

Yes. She was very patient with me even when I tangled her hair up terribly. She was one of the few people to pay attention to me. [He doesn't say this with sadness, merely a practical air. Vikings had no use for a crippled child that couldn't keep up with the rest of society. Even the kindest among them thought of him as more like a novelty or pet kept around for amusement then an actual person.]

[talentedscavenger]

If you mentioned it, I wouldn't have brought it up. [She huffed, but still handed him the other piece. Well, go figure. He was royalty. She never thought she would meet royalty. The only person that was royalty and that she met was Leia. However, Leia was a general now, but still a legend.]

What's the difference? Danes and Kattegat? [Wasn't it the same either way? He had a title and such...but she didn't really dwell on it. She was more interested in hearing about his mother. He was lucky in that sense, he still had a mother to pay attention to him. That was still around.]

I can't imagine you'd mess up badly. Not enough to make her upset. [That's what she'd like to imagine. Someone patient...kind..loving. That was what a mother should be, right?]

[ragnarsson]

Just don't start calling me Prince or anything like that. [Ivar didn't hold with being treated differently or above other people simply because he was royalty. In his experience, those who were kings and queens held those titles because they held the most responsibilities. They were responsible for governing their people. Heavy was the head that wore the crown.]

Danes is the territory my father controlled. It stretched from Denmark to Norway. Kattegat is the seaport in Norway that we call home. Last two sections, please. [He finishes putting in the feathered sections for the third braid. He looks his work over for a moment, fluffing the braids up a little for more volume. Then he starts to wind them up into a bun at the back of the head.]

No. She was always very kind and good with me. I was her favorite since I couldn't walk, so she showed me the most attention of my brothers. [He pauses for a moment, lost in the reminisces of childhood. He still misses her terribly. Then he adds on a little more.] The only time I knew to avoid her is when she had a little too much wine. [Which just went to show that there was no such thing as a perfect parent.]

[talentedscavenger]

And inflate your ego? No. [She was teasing him a little, using sarcasm to get her point across. Ivar was still...Ivar to her. Title or not. He was a friend, and she couldn't really say much else. There was a lot she was still learning about him.] The moment you ask me to call you such, I know something will be wrong.

[He didn't seem like the type to really care about his title. He didn't bring it up until now. Only when he was talking about his mother. She did as he asked, giving the other two strands while listening to his description of his world. It was hard to imagine what his mother would've looked like...but to know she'd shown him kindness...it's more than what some people got in her world.]

I can't say I have any memories like that...but your mother...she sounds lovely. [Not a perfect parent, but better than being an orphan. And it dawns on her that the person she copied her hair style from was probably her parent..her mother. Her tiny hands trying to move up to recreate those three perfect buns on her head. Her hair style was one of the few things she had left of her old life...before The First Order, before Jakku..]

Are you almost done? [She asked softly, unsure if she wanted to see the hair style or not...or maybe itching to try to undo all of it to get her old hair style back.]

[ragnarsson]

She was. She was patient and loved me so much, even when I was being a brat. [Ivar could admit he hadn't been the easiest child to raise, but then, Aslaug had her part in forming him as well by spoiling him, giving him whatever he wanted as a child.] And she was very beautiful and graceful, even when she was older. You could tell she was a queen just by looking at her. [He missed her so much. Ivar wondered sometimes if she'd still be alive if he had remained at home. Maybe Lagertha would have killed them both. But he knows he would have died first before ever letting his mother come to harm.]

Almost. [He examined the hair with a critical eye.] Hmmmm, it's missing something... Wait here. [He went back down the elevator and outside. Looking for something, he found a patch of lilac-colored late blooming fall flowers. He cut off a sprig of them with a knife and went back up to Rey's floor. He wheeled himself back over to her, securing the flowers in her hair with a few bobby pins.] Alright. Now you can look.

[talentedscavenger]

[A faint smile appears on Rey's lips, trying to picture a woman she's never met loving Ivar that much. It made her wonder if her own mother loved her like that, and she wished so much that she could remember. Remember the sound of her mother's voice, or what she looked like...any little memory. Part of Rey wanted to ask what happened to his mother, but she didn't want to bring the mood down. It was also none of her concern.]

What could it be missing? More pins? [She didn't know, she couldn't very well see the back of her head.]

What? Where are you going? [Rey called out, but too late, he had wheeled out of her room and gone to who know's where. She could take a peak in the mirror, just to see what he's done so far. Rey wouldn't ruin the surprise, but she did place a hand on her hair, just slightly. Enough to feel a different texture there created by the braise themselves, and the pins--where he got the pins, she had no idea.

Then, he was back, bringing with him something...and he was putting it in her hair. When he's finally finished, she moves to turn around to face him first, and then gets up to look at the mirror.

She's stunned. It's...weird to see herself looking this different. A change in hair style and it felt like she was looking at someone completely different.]

Wow. [The word fell softly from her lips.]

[ragnarsson]

[She really does look a lot different with her hair done in a different style. The soft, feathered, and fluffy braids soften her face up a little, taking away the perfect symmetry that came from the three buns.]

Is that a good wow or a bad one?

[He can't tell which it is, but he can't understand why she might get upset over her hair. After all, it's just a hairstyle, easily taken down, and turned back to normal.]

[talentedscavenger]

I don’t know?

[ It’s the best answer she can come up with, sorting through her feelings and unsure if she likes it. She moves a little here and there, noting the flowers and how lovely those were. ]

The flowers are nice. I never thought to put them in my hair.

[ No, she’s placed a helmet on before, like one of the ones the Rebellion Pilots wore before.

She turns back to Ivar with a pensive look on her face. ]

Your thoughts on this? [ Normally, she isn’t self conscious about how she looks but, now she’s starting to feel that way. Yes, it’s just a hairstyle that can be undone but...does she still look like herself? ]

[ragnarsson]

Women put them in their hair all the time at home. Flowers, beads, bells. Whatever can be woven in to make it look a little extra special.

[He examines his handiwork with pride. Rey's hair had turned out looking very lovely if he did say so himself. The question makes him think a bit.]

It makes you look a little bit different. [Then he hastily adds on:] But still good. You should try your hair in other styles more often.