riverviewlogs | Picking back up where he left off (Open and Closed prompts)

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Picking back up where he left off (Open and Closed prompts)

who: Ivar and you! +some closed prompts
what: Someone's back from his canon update. Someone might be more angry and crazier than ever.
when: Late February-Early March
where: All over the Quarantine
warnings: Ivar is Ivar. 'Nuff said.

[If you want a closed prompt, feel free to PM me or shoot me up on

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I. Back and ready to roll

It's only been a short time since Ivar left Riverview, but for him, it's been two years. He's missed a lot about living in a more modern era: the convenience of modern lights, being able to have hot water whenever he wanted it, his wheelchair, and the food. So he's catching up on two years of deprivation, which means he can be found all over the city, doing various things. He's at a different place for lunch and dinner almost every night. Being without pizza and burgers this long is a pure travesty.

He also gets back into the swing of things with the Perimeter Guard. His skills have only sharpened in his time away, so he can be found training, gleefully bashing in a monster's head, or coming from these various activities sometimes covered in gore.

Anyone that he's missed will find a more emotional Viking than normal. He's missed his friends and family an awful lot in his time away. Though he'll never admit it, he's learned to appreciate what he has just a little bit more. However, it also seems like something else happened while he was away, for Ivar seems to be keeping his guard up and his hard shell around him more than ever, like he's trying to keep himself from getting hurt after it's already happened too much.

II. Catching up with his daughter

Ask Ivar what the number one thing he missed the most and it would be his daughter. He thought about Winter every single night he was gone and it ate away at the Viking terribly. His biggest fear was wondering if the same amount of time was passing in Riverview as it was for him. Was he missing out on two years of Winter's life? He'd been relieved to find only two weeks had passed.

It seemed that Winter had been rather fussy and upset while he was away if her draining life from those that had been taking care of her was any indication. It drove home again to Ivar that he needed to find a way to help her control her powers better. Maybe he'd been spoiling her just a little too much, even if she still just was a baby. But any thoughts of discipline were driven out of his head in favor of spending time with her.

He took her to the park dressed in one of her cutest outfits, letting her play around on the grass as she chased after the butterflies, one of her favorite hobbies. It was clear how much Ivar loved and had missed his little girl just by the way he looked at her.

III. Morphing time

It's been a while since Ivar has been able to properly morph. He hadn't had a whole lot of time to himself back home, and when he did, he usually had more pressing matters on his hand than practicing his shapeshifting skills. Besides, if anyone had caught him, the Vikings would have thought him some sort of unnatural being, a witch or the like, and might have contemplated the idea of burning him alive. So while there's been the occasional foray out as a dog or squirrel, they haven't been frequent.

So now that he's back in the city, he's back to his usual morphs. So there's the occasional dog, cat, squirrel, or more extraterrestrial creature roaming the city. For those that know it's him, he'll gladly approach them, and chat while in animal form. For those that don't know it's him, he's up to his usual tricks of spying on the unknowing populace to find out what he can.

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Ragnar looked a little worse for wear, both wrists currently bandaged up and what looked like some light burns on his face. But, for some reason, Ragnar was positive Ivar wouldn't be worried at all as long as he didn't see the state of the kitchen.

Winter was, of course, in fine form and practically ready to leap out of the little wagon she was in to get to Ivar when she saw him.

The hug definitely took him by surprise, but Ragnar had always been a tactile person and returned it without hesitation, giving Ivar a firm clap on the back as he butted his forehead against his son's.

"She was good. She has taken to Athelstan, but... I doubt you are surprised to hear that," He clapped him on the shoulder so he could give him a better once over, "How long has it been for you? You look older. Different."

Ivar takes in his father's appearance, but he doesn't ask questions. They're Vikings, getting hurt occasionally is part and parcel with their lives. As long as he's not bleeding out on the floor, everything's all good.

He immediately makes a beeline for Winter after he lets go of his father before he answers him. He's missed his daughter more than anything in the time he's been away. He doesn't know how Ragnar was able to stand it all those months he used to go raiding and leave his sons behind in Kattegat. "Hello there, my sweet girl. Were you good while I was away?" She immediately snuggles into his arms, babbling a little, content now that her father is holding her again. All is right in Winter's small world.

He finally turns to Ragnar. "About two years, I think. I lost track of time after we took York and the English lay a siege upon us." There's something perhaps only Ragnar will see. There's something beneath the surface that Ivar is a carrying, a sadness that wasn't present before he left. He doubts he can talk to his father about it, how he killed his own brother, or engaged two of the others in a civil war. He can't stand for his father's disapproval, or worse yet, his disappointment.

Ragnar trailed after Ivar slowly, smiling softly to himself as he watched his son with his daughter. It reminded him of himself and his children when they'd been younger. Putting a hand lightly on Ivar's shoulder, he reaches out to brush some of Winter's fine white hair out of her face, giving her a doting smile saved for children alone.

"After you took York?" His eyes light up, giving Ivar an excited smirk. But Ivar isn't smirking in return...

"What? It did not go well?" To be fair, Viking strategies weren't all that conducive to withstanding sieges or even occupying foreign cities. The strategy had always been simple - pick easy targets, go in hard and fast, take what you wanted, and get out.

"Did Letha come to visit her while I was away?" He hadn't forgotten the last things she had yelled at him in anger before he'd left. But she was still Winter's mother, and therefore, Ivar wanted to see them form a bond like he had with his daughter. He picks up her lamb pacifier and gives it to her so she has something to hold.

He couldn't tell Ragnar about his family woes, not after he knew his father had worked so hard to keep his sons together. But at least he could tell him of all the good things Ivar's accomplished. "It went fine. It was easy to tell what the English would do next. I only lost one battle in the entire time I was back home." That was hard enough for any Viking leader to do, let alone a teenager in charge of the largest Norse army ever assembled. "I got a Christian priest for my own slave. I finally understand why you took Athelstan. They're fascinating and very useful." Not to mention Ivar found Heahmund pretty damn attractive.

Ragnar's expression was probably answer enough, a vaguely annoyed look, lips pressed into a thin straight line.

"She did. Athelstan thought it might be good for her to eat with us one night. Winter was with Thor that day," He stated flatly, "I did not realize, but I had met her before. She lied and gave me a different name. When she came to feast with us, she did apologize for that."

Unfortunately for Letha, Ivar had inherited his stubbornness and resistance to forgive even the slightest transgressions from his father.

Ragnar was keen on switching subjects to his son's conquests, already smiling proudly to himself as he listened to Ivar. And then Ivar managed to surprise him.

"A Christian priest? Really? I cannot disagree, they are very interesting... and very useful. But... perhaps you do not tell Athelstan about that, hm?" He smirked a bit.

"Now you see why I was none too fond of her even after she came back." You'd think two years would be enough for him to start forgiving Letha. But as Ragnar knew, he was just as stubborn and unforgiving as his father. Besides, did anyone ever truly get over getting their heart broken by their first love? She was going to have to work long and hard to regain Ivar's trust.

Having Ragnar be proud of what he has done made it all worthwhile for the young Viking. He thought back to what Ubbe had said, how their father would hate what he had done. While it was true Ragnar would have been disappointed in how Ivar had torn the brothers apart, Ivar knew he could appreciate everything else he'd done.

"Yes. This one was a warrior bishop. He's a sight to see on the battlefield. And he enjoys killing almost as much as I do." See that look? Ivar might just be a touch infatuated with Bishop Heahmund. He smirked back at the mention of Athelstan. "I'll be sure to leave that part out when I tell him of what I've done."

"Women are usually trouble," He with a roguish smirk, but he had to remind himself that this particular woman had been keen to abandon her baby. A hypocritical thought, but Ragnar didn't know that yet.

"How have you been..." He tilted his head, making a face as he tried to decide on what word he wanted to use, "-'handling' her desire to reconnect with her child?"

He was mostly asking so that he knew how to handle Letha when Winter was in his care. That, and he was still a little suspicious of her. Was she reaching out to Athelstan and then Ragnar as a way to get to Ivar and Winter?

"Bishop? Yet another name for their priests. And all of that for just one god," He shook his head.

"Men are a little better or so I've found here." Has he mentioned that he's involved with Marco to his father? He couldn't remember after so many years apart.

"I told her she needed to regain my trust. I'm still waiting to see how that goes." His voice still held a note of tight anger. Ivar was still holding a grudge against her and that wasn't going away any sooner than the one he held for Lagertha was. But he still was holding out hope. He wanted Winter to have a relationship with her mother, one where she was loved and knew that.

He nodded at the words about Christians. "Far too complicated. But it does provide for some interesting discussions." He's still trying to wrap his head around the idea of a virgin becoming pregnant and having a child.

"Well... Yes. You are not wrong," He finally agreed with a soft, if slightly tired, chuckle.

Ragnar honestly prefered to stay out of the love lives of his children. Who they slept with or they fell in love with was their business, not his, and he expected a similar, or at least hoped, for a similar attitude in return.

Letha was a bit of a different story since that whole situation involved Ivar's daughter, but Marco, or anyone else for that matter, were of little consequence in Ragnar's mind.

"Agreed," He chuckled, "I just found out that the son of their god lived as a regular man for a time but he followed a different religion. So strange.

I do not think I would ever want to be Christian. Who would want a god that can see and know everything? We have enough trouble with ours as it is."

He grinned, remembering what he has smelled before coming off of Athelstan when he was a dog. He'd warmed up enough to the priest to approve of his relationship with his father. Besides, anyone was better than Dodger.

"Was he the one who was the son of a virgin?" Ivar was still trying to figure out how that one worked. Definitely some bizarre type of miracle, though Ivar was still a bit fuzzy as to what powers the son of god would have been granted if he'd been born from a virgin mother.

"I feel like I get enough of that in my life already." Really, with his family all here, it wasn't like he had a whole lot of privacy anymore.

"Yes, that is the one," He said with a chuckle, shaking his head. Athelstan had tried to give Ragnar the answers to any questions he'd asked about his strange religion, but there was still so much that made very little sense. Even after in depth conversations. Of course, it didn't help that most of these deep conversations were had over drinks late into the night. And Athelstan was a distraction in and of himself.

He snorted softly in laughter, cracking a lopsided smirk of a smile, nodding.

The smile disappeared as he fixed Ivar with a piercing, keen gaze.

"Do you mean me?" He squinted slightly, watching Ivar's reaction with a scrutinizing, thoughtful look. He did his best to give his son space. He'd offered him a room, but had by no means forced him to life with him. He showed interest in his grand daughter, but watched her on Ivar's terms. He'd also tried to stay out of whatever feud his son and Dodger had... until he'd needed help when Athelstan had been dragged into the whole thing. Which reminded him, he should probably talk to Ivar about Dodger's activities while he was gone, but that could wait.

Ivar, too, had many discussions and debates with Heahmund over their very different religions. He found it interesting on a spiritual level, though neither one of them was ever going convince the other to convert. They were both zealots too set in their ways to change.

Ivar saw the expression on his father's face, those ice-blue eyes that were so much like his own staring at him. "Don't be so sensitive. I meant in general around here. Everyone is like a bunch of gossipy old women." Really, it sometimes felt like people had nothing better to do around the city than talk about everyone else. That went doubly so when it came to Ragnar's family.

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Picking back up where he left off (Open and Closed prompts)

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