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who: Gyda and various
what: Arrival and getting settled
when: Early December
where: Portal, then clinic (possibly her new quarters)
warnings: possible mentions of illness and child-dealth

Portal: closed to Ivar;

The last thing Gyda recalled was just succumbing to sleep, the drinking hall turned sickroom appearing in her eyes so fogged and slow that she wondered if it was a dream even so. She felt so weak, cold and drained that the thought of death no longer seemed an issue: if she could just sleep, she'd feel better, she knew it. She wasn't sure how long she'd been sleeping, only that she closed her eyes, and slowly she was aware that the sounds were different. So many people were sick that the only sounds in the hall were of people coughing or her mother's voice.

Now, she couldn't hear any of that. There were no voices, but she could ‘feel’ there were people around. Gyda opened her eyes, seeing people in shadows, but she couldn’t tell of they were men or women-all she could see was that they were beckoning her to join them, and she felt compelled to obey.

Somehow, she was able to summon up enough energy to slowly push herself up, and towards the door they were pointing toward. Still weak and feverish, she draped the blanket over her shoulders and forced herself to move, stepping through the doorway. The figures didn’t follow her, and she couldn’t see her mother or the others from the hall, but that didn’t stop her from stepping through.

Her breath caught when she stepped through, the steps nearly making her trip, her mind fuzzy from fever and seeing all of the green. Part of her wondered if she had died, if the shadows were those who’d come from Hel’s domain-and yet, none of the stories told of her Hall being this green.
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Clinic: OTA (final logs to either Marco or Ivar)

The past few days seemed all a blur, her waking in and out of sleep, seeing the same strangely dressed people coming in and out of the room they placed her in. They kept asking asking her things, and more prodding, having the strange stick in her mouth. Atleast they finally removed the needle somehow dripping fluids into her arm-the needle didn't hurt, but her arm was itchy and sore even when they took it out. The bright colored..things..they had her swallow were bitter, but she did notice she felt a little better some time after taking them. She took them along with the different tasting liquids they gave her: she recognized the chicken soup, but the rest she couldn’t even recognize as food.

Her deepest worry in this case wasn’t the illness; that was a mere inconvenience by now. What scared her was that she was by herself, her only family being a brother she didn’t know. She’d never been without her family before and the thought of what would happen now hurt more than the illness she was just recovering from.

Her third day though, she woke up feel more alert than she'd been in days, even in Kattegat. After the usual 'check up' and being told that the fever had finally broken, the female healer said was just about ready to be dismissed; all she had to do was answer some questions. Before she left, she showed, Gyda how to use the other box right by her bed, the one with the strange runes. Her eyes opened wide as she witnessed a scene of someone talking to her through the box,, but when she waved an arm and called to get their attention, she was told by the healer that the person wasn’t really there, it was only their image.

When she left to get her some fresh clothing (and ‘papers’), Gyda was still fiddling with the controls on the device, until it showed a man talking to someone as he was cooking. The whole of it didn't make sense, but it was entertaining, and above all it was distraction, something her mind craved more than than solid food.

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For all the people told her she could trust them, soon as Gyda stepped into the hall, she felt herself putting up another weak struggle. Everything here was so bright and shiny looking, the smell making her feel even more nauseated. The man in the chair told her she could trust them, but he was a stranger and even strangers had reasons to harm eachother.

Once inside the room, she conceded that she was too weak to put up much of a fight, and in the end, she let them do as they wished. However, that didn't stop her from asking this question or that, as much as her energy allowed. If she had mind to, she would've laughed at their methods, like when they put the strange stick in her mouth and used that to tell if she had a fever (as though it wasn't obvious enough). To the female healer's credit, she seemed to understand her reserves and explained everything that was going on. Gyda could tell she was worried though, even through the haze-though that didn't surprise her either.

The final and most curious thing they did was stick a needle in her arm, one that was attacked to a strange, see-through sack containing what looked like water. The female healer (doctor..they called her doctor) told her it was so the medicine and fluid would get into her system easier than if she would drink it, and even asked if it would feel better if she held her hand. She refused though; after seeing her father once take a knife heated by fire, she wouldn't flinch from a needle.

Then they finally left her alone, showing her how to call on the nurse (as well as the strange box called a tee-vee), before they left the room, telling the man (Ivar, his name was) that he was allowed in.

Off hand, one of the nurses commented that 'they were clearly related' before they left, allowing the two of them some privacy.

Ivar waited outside, only leaving when he was completely starved, and needed some food. Once that was taken care of, he went right back to waiting outside Gyda's room. When a nurse asked him how long he was going to wait, he snapped at her, "As long as it takes." The determination on his face left no debate as to whether or not he was going to go home to his daughter.

Winter. He thought of her with a bit of excitement. She had an aunt here now. One of the great misgivings Ivar had about his daughter growing up in this place was not being able to know her family. It looked like that was being rectified. Though he didn't always have the best confidence in the doctors of Riverview, he tried to have hope. They could cure things much easier than back home. A fever that would take out a whole village could easily be overcome.

Finally, as he lay there half-dozing, a doctor came out and said that he could see his sister. Snapping to attention, he wheeled himself into her room. His eyes, usually so hard and angry, held a softness to them reminiscent of Ragnar's more gentle moments. "Are you feeling better?"

She finally felt she could breath when everyone left. Not that she really wanted to be left alone either, not with how strange everything was, but the bed was comfortable, and she could feel her head ache a little less. She was still hurting, but she felt more alert than she had been in the past several days.

One of the nurses showed her one of the 'devices' to move the bed up and down, and she was pressing the 'up' button when the door opened. She turned her head, recognizing the man coming forward. This wasn't her father, she could see that now, but she still recognized his eyes.

Carefully, she pushed herself up, mindful of the needle in her arm. "Yes. My head doesn't ache nearly as much." So maybe there was something to what was being dripped into her arm. "Who're you?"

Why did he have father's eyes?

Ivar wheeled into the room, taking her in the same way she was doing to him. He could see bits of both Ragnar and Lagertha in her face. So this was the sister he'd never gotten the chance to know. Ivar was good at reading people and he saw kindness there in her eyes. Though he wondered if that would change now that she was lucid enough to realize he was a cripple.

"My name is Ivar The Boneless." He paused and then added on. "Also called Ivar Ragnarsson. I was born four years after you died to Father and my mother, his second wife."

She set a hand at her head; of what he had told her, to hear that she'd died back home was the easiest to take. Somehow, Gyda knew that was the case; the door she saw was after seeing her mother and some of the others on pallets.

"I saw.." She frowned, trying to bring the memory back up. "In Kattegat, I was..pulled from my sleep by shadowed figures. They pointed towards a sort of doorway. There were others, but they didn't seem to see us."

She didn't think on it at the time, the fever clouding her mind. Now, it her head and body still ached, but it didn't hurt much as it did.

Why did the gods send her here? "What's wrong with your legs? Is that why they call you 'boneless'?" The chair made sense if that was the case, after all, they were able to lower her fever. They would surely provide him with the means to get around.

"Maybe they were taking you to Hel." A place without pain but also without joy for those who hadn't died in battle. "Or it could have been the portal that brought you here." He comes up to the side of her bed. Already, her color is looking better, though she's still very pale.

"I was born a cripple." Gyda already knows what that usually means for disabled Viking children, so he explains how he survived past his first few days. "And yes, Father tried to abandon me in the woods when I was born, but he couldn't go through with it." Much as Ivar had despairing moments where he wished Ragnar had just gone through with it, he was glad right now that he hadn't.

"I think it was the other." Though the figures could've easily been from Helheim. "I saw shadows of others who had died, but they.." She frowned, they didn't really talk. "One of them pointed me away from the others, towards the door to here instead."

And he found her minutes later. Why she was given this chance and not the others, even if she was well enough to think on it, she didn't wish to question. For those who died in sickness, Helheim wasn't bad, but it wasn't Valhalla either.

"Father never does-never did-anything he didn't wish to." She knew what happened to children who were deformed or disfigured, everyone did, even if it was never spoken about openly. "If you were spared, it's clear the gods have something in store for your future, something you don't 'really' need legs for."

Had she been well enough, she would've noted how his upper body was shaped. Clearly he didn't let the deformity get in the way. "

"I suppose the gods gave you a second chance." The Norse gods were never known for being merciful, but they were fond of those young and innocent. Perhaps they could sense how lonely Ivar was without anyone from home around.

At the idea of a purpose that he was meant for, Ivar nodded slowly. "Father told me something similar the last time I saw him." The very last time he'd seen Ragnar alive. He'd spoken of how Ivar was the most important Viking to take their people forward and to lead them.

He smiled at her, an genuine expression not many ever got to see. "I'm glad you're here. I've been without family for a very long time." Though Ivar had friends and people here he'd consider a found family, there was nothing quite like having other Norsemen around. He didn't have to explain his actions or the way he thought about things to those who had come from where he was.

"How long've you been here?" He said nothing to that extent, but if he was this happy to see someone he never met, even if they were family. He would've had to have been here awhile.

The sight of the door opening got her attention, and when she turned, she saw a nurse carrying a wheeled table with a tray on it. "Ms. Gyda..are you well enough to have something to eat."

She wasn't not entirely, but she also hadn't eaten in days. She nodded in response.

"Nine months." It was the longest period of time Ivar had ever been away from his family. For all that Ivar was surrounded by a found family and friends, he was still lonely for those he had known at home, people that had the same values and mindsets as he did.

Ivar's head whipped around when the nurse came in, hand automatically going to the knife at his side. The woman does her best to remain unruffled, but it's clear Ivar's reputation proceeds him. When he sees she's just bringing in food, he relaxes. "The food here is different, but you'll grow to like it."

She blinked at him. "Nine months." The thought of being away from her family for that long made her feel dizzy. Of course, she knew they wouldn't follow her to Hel's domain, but maybe there, it wouldn't have mattered.

Gyda now realized why he was like this; she couldn't imagine being away from her family for that long.

The food now was a welcome distraction, however much she wasn't entire that hungry. The soup, once she lifted the cover, was recognizable enough, though she didn't get what the strings (noodles) in the soup were. Then there was the bowl with the bright red cubes in it, next to that was a cup of something bright orange.

The spoon and knife were in a clear covering for some reason. This, she tore open with her teeth before taking them out. "What's this in the soup?"

She used what looked like a pitchfork to pull out a noodle. Atleast it smelled familiar, like chicken.

He'd been a lonely Viking for a long time. But not any longer. Now, some of that ache in his chest was beginning to disappear.

Ivar let her take in the strange food on her own. He'd had an interesting reaction to it as well the first couple of weeks here. There had been a lot of experimentation and questions asked. By the end of it all, Ivar had become immensely fond of pizza. He reminded himself he'd have to introduce Gyda to it.

"They call them noodles. They're made from wheat like bread, just in a different form. I think this is chicken noodle soup." Just wait until she started finding out about Jello.

The 'noodles' as they were called weren't bad. She wasn't certain they were like bread, but the taste was like bread in broth, so she supposed they were there for the same reason. "It tastes like chicken broth."

So the name was straight forward. The pronged fork also made it easier to eat them with; she'd just drink the broth after.

Gyda went to try a taste of the liquid, but the sight of the cubes got her attention. She poked one of them with her fork, taken slightly aback when it jiggled. "What's this?"

She picked one up with her fingers, squishing it. "What sort of people make something that's neither solid or liquid?"

Growing up, no one told them about not playing with their food. Mostly because it wasn't worth playing with, and if a person didn't eat there was something wrong with them.

"This is just the start. There's so many good foods here. I'm going to introduce you to pizza. It's life-changing." Ivar had never known how exotic food could become until he'd tried a pizza with all the toppings on it.

Ivar couldn't suppress a chuckle that came from watching Gyda play with the jiggling mass. "That's Jello. It's a food. Sort of." Though he was kind of dubious on that front himself.

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