riverviewlogs | It only hurts when I'm breathing

Entry tags:

It only hurts when I'm breathing

who: Ivar and OTA
what: Catch-all for the month
when: Last week of June
where: All over the city
warnings: Drunk teenager. Fighting monsters in animal form. Ivar being Ivar.

A. Numb the feelings

In the past three months, Ivar had lost four people he cared about. Two he was in love with or maybe he would have been if he thought himself capable of being in love with anyone. It had hurt to lose Letha and Marco, but he thought he'd be able to work past it with enough time. People came, people went. That was life.

To lose his father and Athelstan was worse. They were family and he'd not realized how much he'd come to rely on them during his time here. He and Ragnar had butted heads a lot, but Ivar had finally gotten close to him in a way he'd never gotten the chance to back home. The priest had likewise managed to get his way past the teen's defenses and become a close confidant. They had told him they were leaving. Despite his usual stoicism, Ivar had managed to finally tell them he loved them just before they were gone.

He was unable to really cope with the emotions that had come afterwards. Really, Ivar was only equipped to handle one at a time, so dealing with sadness, loss, grief, and regret altogether was too much for him. So he did the only thing a true Viking would to numb the pain: he went out and got drunk every night for a week. He'd just sit at the bar and drink until he either passed out or was tossed out for causing a ruckus. Though the expression on his face wouldn't suggest it, he could really use some company during these outings.

B. The animal side of things

The other way he found to get rid of feelings was by shifting into an entirely different form. He'd become a dog, or cat, or any number of the other forms that he could take. He just let his mind sink under the instincts and roam the city for an hour at a time. Anyone who encountered him in these forms would find an animal willing to be pet and cuddled for any length of time. Being in animal form was the only way Ivar could allow himself any sort of positive contact with other people.

Of course, that wasn't to say all his forms were sunshine and light. He'd go out beyond the wall and transform into the giant alien form that resembled a cross between a bull and a lion, allowing the predatory instincts to lead him to fight monsters out in the trees. It didn't matter how battered he got from these bouts, morphing back to his human form always took care of any injuries. He wouldn't mind company during these outings, just so long as he got to wreck havoc.

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[ Loki pauses, glancing at Ivar. ]

Why did you kill him?

I was angry with him. He was insulting me right in front of everyone, my other brothers, the entire army. It was a moment where rage just completely took me over and--

[He sighs, a heavy sound for a teen to be making.]

--I threw an axe into his chest. I wanted to take it back the moment it happened, but it was too late.

[ Too late is often the mantra for such situations. loki has gotten away with it purely through luck, in a way. and because he could never believe that loki could hurt thor that badly. ]

I got lucky. That's all.

[ And he's always held himself back. Spite, bitterness, envy are all emotions Loki dabbles in, but rage, pure rage was different. ]

[Maybe if Ivar had a little bit of luck himself, he would have had four brothers alive right now instead of three. He should have just listened to Ubbe. His older brother had always been his voice of reason. He'd told him not to listen to Sigurd, but Ivar as always, had to stubbornly listen to his own emotions instead.]

I'm cursed to have everyone I care about leave me eventually.

[Granted, that one had been on him, but everyone else, nope. He just couldn't seem to stop people from leaving his life.]

That is not a curse.

[ A soft exhale. ]

That is how mortals live. People come and go, whether it is death or circumstance that separates them. You would leave the people you care for in order to fight your war in history. It is no different for them. Time moves forward, not back.

[They reach the bar and Ivar holds open the door, fixing Loki with a stare.]

And just when am I supposed to get used to this? It hurts the same every time it happens.

[It had started when he was a kid. Ragnar had just up and left his family one day without so much as a word when Ivar was six years old. That first trauma had never quite healed right and continued to shape Ivar's mindset. One of his biggest fears was having people leave him for good without so much as a goodbye.]

[ The stare does not phase Loki whatsoever. ]

You don't. You can either choose to cut all people out or you keep going.

I don't like either of those options.

[Now Ivar sounds petulant and childish. He sits down at the bar, rubbing his left thigh. Stark's braces may take away the main struggles that come with walking, but the stress on his muscles still happens. He'll be limping before the night is out.]

[ Loki's lips twitch. ]

You're not supposed to. But that is what they are.

[Ivar orders a shot and promptly drains it. Then he folds his arms on the bar and rests his head on them. His voice is muffled when he speaks again.]

You're very unhelpful. But I guess you leave the sympathy to your brother.

He does it better.

[ The jib means little. ]

But I have not lied either. Many will sell you a song. Glorify it. I don't have time for that.

I like you better when you're not twisting you're words.

[He turns his head to the side and tries to smile, but it doesn't quite reach his sad eyes.]

After all, you're some of the only family I have left in this city.

[Loki and Thor are still his uncles no matter what. Ivar clings all the harder to those who stay in his life when others leave it. Bah. This is too many feelings to be dealing with at once. He orders another drink.]

[ Loki opens his mouth to say more before closing it. He's not that keen on kicking someone while they're down and it would be wrong to say he doesn't fully sympathize. The marks on his neck are all but faded but . . . His fingers brush against his throat in remembered pain.

He asks for a drink instead. Shame it would take a great deal to even get him drunk. ]

I suppose it is no different for us.

At least you can be assured Thor will never leave you. He's as solid as--

[He pauses for a long moment, trying to think through the alcohol induced fog in his brain.]

--as a rock.

[ It's an untrue assessment. Thor has left Loki behind and so has Loki. Their history is mired with problems. Thor is dependable, that much is true. But Loki has surely, surely exhausted all his options. Once he remembers, there'll be nothing left. ]

Even if Thor chooses not to, he may not always have that choice.

[Ivar lifts his head up off the bar again. He really can't take too many more drinks if he wants to make it home in one piece. He's looking at Loki with interest. It sounds like there's something more to that statement.]

What do you mean?

I mean what I said earlier. Some choices are out of our hands.

[ Like Loki's death. He could only choose what actions he could take, but Loki couldn't prevent it. Thanos, after all, had Loki marked for it. ]

I suppose that is true. Even for gods, there is fate to consider.

[Predestination was a thing that all Vikings believed wholeheartedly. Some things were just out of a person's control, hence the belief in things like Ragnarok. He signals for the bartender to bring them another round.]

[ Loki does not believe in fate or destiny, no matter what Thanos says. It is contrived and Loki chose his own end when he could have easily escaped. He will not let Thanos change the nature of his narrative. ]

Do you believe in fate?

I do. There's a destiny that I have yet to fulfill. I won't die until it is.

[Vikings were a fatalistic lot, but at the same time, they also believed that their lives wer predestined, which could bolster their courage in battle.]

[ Loki nods. He knew the Vikings held such ideas, even if he does not. ]

Then you must decide whether that destiny is worth the pain.

I know.

[He rests his chin on his folded arms again on the bar. He knows what he has to do. He just doesn't want to do it. For all that Ivar is clever and smart, he's still only eighteen. Sometimes, it's too much for a teen to handle on his own.]

[ Loki can understand that so he drinks quietly. His choice was worth it. Wasn't it? Loki rubs his neck unconsciously. ]

I'm sure you do, but it doesn't always offer comfort.