riverviewlogs | [Open] The terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue...

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[Open] The terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue...

who: Letha Regis and YOU!
what: Visiting Letha in the hospital, maybe meeting her new baby.
when: During the month of August
where: The hospital
warnings: Lots of pregnancy, birth and death talk, usually in the same context. Letha being a horrible mother.

--

Letha had really waited until the last possible second to allow herself to be brought to the hospital... and unfortunately, that means a very long hospital stay while she recovers from the ill effects of her baby's development. She's bedridden for the first week of August, refusing to even talk to anyone, or acknowledge her daughter's existence. It falls on the doctors and nurses to keep Istrid alive, while Letha remains hooked to an IV and totally, forcefully silent. Hell, she won't even speak to Ivar... which says a lot by itself.

I

During the week of the River Festival, she's still bedridden... but she becomes talkative, at least. She isn't happy - the bubbly, cheeky girl she'd been when she got here seems to have been replaced by a moody ghost of herself. But she will talk, and sometimes she will rant, and even scream and throw things at nurses when they accidentally push her too far. She's almost always looking out the window, at the festivities that she can't take part in... if only she hadn't gotten cursed with this stupid child, she could be having fun right now. Not trapped in bed with people fussing over her health... and forcefully reviving her every time she tries to hide in the afterlife.

II

During the third week of August she recovers a bit more; there's some color in her cheeks, and from time to time she'll be seen holding Istrid. No, Winter - her name is Winter. Winter Istrid Regis-Ivarsdottir, because she said so. Ivar had suggested "Winter", and it seemed to fit better than the name she'd chosen when she thought this child was... not an abomination. It's not safe to touch Winter with bare hands, nor even hold her for too long, so Letha is forced to bottle-feed her, and occasionally she can be heard muttering pessimistically to her daughter. Things like "If you weren't the most precious thing I have, I would drop you." and "I should hope you never send me back here again, you are just as much trouble as your father." Though, which father she's referring to is up to interpretation.

III

By the fourth week of August, she's finally out of the hospital, but will still accept visitors if people want to check on her at home. She's retreated indoors to avoid people seeing her daughter, while she tries to cope with being the absolute failure she had to be, to birth a healer... but logically she knows having the support of friends is good for her, and she can't deny their company without risking having to offer an explanation. So if one wants to drop in on her at home, she'll be a good hostess at least.

What does Winter actually look like?

Winter is three weeks premature, so she's a bit smaller and a lot thinner than the average baby. She is also albino, with tufts of pure white hair and pale purple-blue eyes with red pupils. Her skin is pale, but very pink and healthy, and she will usually be seen in cute little dresses with skulls on them... if one can see that under the protective baby blankets she's usually held in. She also has a pacifier with a small stuffed lamb attached to it, for hugging, and that is almost always in her mouth.

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"I'm telling you I don't want to hold her."

She barks it at him, wanting to roll over and avoid him but knowing the scar on her stomach still needs to heal before she can do that. She'd refused any treatment that would quicken the recovery process, after all.

When the doctors had cleaned Winter up and set her up in an incubator, they had let Letha see her. And she had seen a pale, white-haired abomination that had nearly killed her just by existing. Just like the elders always said healers did. She had refused to talk for a week after that, and when the week had passed she began screaming in anger when the nurses tried to encourage her to handle the baby. She hadn't even let Ivar into the room for those two weeks... and when she finally allowed him, the nurses had all but begged him to reason with her.

She doesn't want reason, though. She doesn't want any of what's currently happening. She wants a baby that looks like Aristeo, not this... thing that she can't even touch without getting hurt.

Edited 2017-08-04 16:51 (UTC)

Ivar is beginning to lose his patience with Letha. At first, he'd chalked up her behavior to almost dying, and having to spend an arduous amount of time to regain her strength. Now, she was just being stubborn and stupid. His temper with her childish behavior was beginning to fray. He holds Winter in his arms, snapping at her. "You have to hold her. Just look at her!"

He runs one finger over the edge of the baby-soft skin. His daughter blinks at him with her curiously colored eyes, reaching out a tiny finger to wrap around his own. Winter has never once drained life from him, something that he can't quite understand, but that he is very thankful for. She must love him an awful lot already.

If there's one thing he can sympathize with this child, it's being unwanted by his own parent. Everyone had told Aslaug and Ragnar to get rid of him. Ragnar had even tried to go through with it, but the love he held for Ivar wouldn't let him. In his darker moments, sometimes Ivar wished he had. But he'll be damned if he lets Winter go through the same thing, especially when there's nothing even really wrong with her. He's going make Letha see reason, even if he has to beat it into her.

"I said I don't want to!"

The crow skull in her hair caws when she yells, startled by the noise, and she flinches at its sudden outburst. But now she does turn to look at Ivar, bristled and unkempt and... hurt, but trying so, so hard not to look it. She feels so weak and stupid, can't he just for once realize how hard this has all been for her?

"I don't want that thing anywhere near me! You look at her, she's vile!"

Ivar doesn't understand, he doesn't know how dangerous healers are. Their power, their psychotic nature, all the different things that the elders have told her about them - he doesn't know any of it and he just won't listen. She's shaking as she tries to inch back against her bed, just to put what little distance she can between herself and her child.

Ivar's eyes narrow in anger. He feels an intense desire to reach out and shake Letha until her teeth clack in her head, so it's a good thing that he's holding Winter so that he can't do that. Winter. What a curious name. When he'd first seen her, he'd remarked she was as pale as the winter snows in Kattegat. Somehow, the name had stuck. Winter Istrid Regis-Ivarsdottir. A long name for a little girl.

A little girl who was currently experiencing a cruel and unwarranted rejection by her own mother. "She's not a thing! She's our daughter!" He growls at Letha. She was still his, no matter what Letha thought of her.

He tries one last soft attempt. "Letha, I know things have been hard for you. But Winter needs you. I need you. Thinking you were going to die, that I was going to have to raise her on my own, that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to face. You should be thankful she was born healthy, without any deformities. We would celebrate such a child being born at home."

Her arms cross, and her shoulders rise as she bristles in repulsion. If only she could bring her legs up and curl into a ball... but alas, when her legs move she winces in pain and they go back down. Everything about this little girl has been nothing but trouble.

"She wasn't born healthy, can't you see that?" She snaps, refusing to look at him, "She could kill me any time she wanted to, she could kill you, why can't you listen to me for once about how dangerous she is? She's more broken than you are!"

The moment she says that last part, she freezes. She's too scared in that moment to even turn and face him... too scared that something might be flying at her head, or another knife might touch her throat.

Alright, that's it. All gloves are coming off. If she were anyone else, he'd likely have already killed her for a comment like that. As it stands, she's lucky not to end up with a broken jaw. Once again, holding Winter is the only thing keeping Letha from bodily harm.

But he's had it with her primadonna attitude. He shifts Winter around, then reaches out, and forcefully yanks Letha's arm to get her to face him. She needs a very large reality check and Ivar knows just the way to do it. "Fine then. I'll just take her to the woods outside the city and abandon her there. With all the monsters around, something is bound to eat her soon. I'm sure no one will judge you on getting rid of such a monster. It's what anyone would do."

His fingers dig into her thin arm, sure to leave finger-shaped bruises once he lets go of her. "Better a merciful death than having to grow up and live with the knowledge she has a mother who doesn't even love her!"

She isn't listening at first, too busy struggling to get away from him. It doesn't last long, since before very long her surgical scar sends a shot of pain through her and... it's honestly the worst pain she's ever felt. That's not an exaggeration, she is very unfamiliar with pain in any regard.

So she tunes in about halfway through when she finally freezes again, watching him like an animal caught in a trap. It would solve everything, but... what if it didn't? What if someone was kind enough to pick her up - what if she managed to survive on her own, somehow? Some part of her briefly thinks that if the plan was to kill her, they should be more thorough about it-

And then the mothering side of her brain kicks in and she shakes her head feverishly. Surely Ivar wasn't being serious - he's just trying to get a reaction out of her. Trick her into grabbing Winter out of his hands to keep her safe. She's onto you, Ragnarsson.

"You wouldn't."

His face is set like stone, his eyes a pair of cold ice chips. He loves his daughter more than anything in the world right now, but Letha needs to understand what her behavior is going to cause. This is serious and no time for her bratty, little girl antics.

"I can and I will. Everyone told my own parents just to abandon me in the woods when I was born. It was better for a crippled child to die than grow up where he'd have no place, unable to become a warrior, or be anything but an object of pity. My father tried to, but he couldn't go through with it."

He leans forward, forcefully pulling Letha close to him, and thereby closer to Winter. "But you know what? Sometimes, I wish he had. If her life is going to be as hard as you say it is, better to give her the mercy of death right now rather than letting her linger on."

Winter has been disturbed by all of the movement, and reaches up to grab a lock of Letha's hair as it dangles over her. Fear crosses Letha's face - straight, chilling terror at the prospect of her daughter touching her, but she can't stand a chance against Ivar's grip.

The front of her gown is slowly gaining a small red stain.

"You wouldn't, you're lying!"

It's started to occur to her how lucky she was, when every argument with him could be cut off by her fainting. But currently... nothing is going to change until he gets his way, and it frustrates her so much to suddenly realize that she's ended up on Aristeo's side of their relationship. This is what it's like to be with her, isn't it?

The realization is fleeting, before she reaches to grab Winter from him, holding her as if she's some toxic or burning-hot item but still trying to gather her to her chest. Away from her father, Winter begins to fuss quietly, a faint glow surrounding her, but Letha can ignore the oncoming headache until she's sure Ivar isn't being serious.

Ivar looks immensely satisfied when Letha finally takes their daughter. He's just disappointed it took a death threat to get to that point.

"Of course I would." Maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn't and he's just lying to get the reaction he wants out of Letha. It's impossible to say. "But you need to stop moping and sulking like a dog who lost their favorite bone. You have a child now and responsibilities towards her. You can't just ignore her when it's convenient or send her back where she came from because things got too hard."

Ivar reaches over to rest a hand on Winter's head, as if to emphasize the fact that she hasn't drained any life from him yet. "So she didn't turn out perfect. Tough shit. You're her mother. And if you don't love her, then you're still obligated to care for her."

Winter has started fussing, and Letha bristles at the oncoming headache, but it fades as soon as Ivar touches Winter again. And if anything, that just makes her angry. Somehow she'd thought Ivar's touch made her stronger... no, it's just that her stupid monster of a baby prefers him over her own mother. She refuses to drain life from him... barely a few days old and she uses all her control for that. And worse, he seems to be defending her for it.

Letha remains startled and uneasy, shaking her head sharply before fixing him with a glare as she moves to try and push his hand away, stop him from touching her or Winter. "You don't know what I'm going through, Ivar. You can't even begin to imagine it. You think you're like her because your parents didn't want you, but you are nothing compared to what this child is. You're just as capable as anyone else, you're the only person here who thinks otherwise - but she will never overcome what she is, and I'll have to live my life knowing that every attempt I've ever made to do good for my family has ended up second rate. Marrying an outcast, dying improperly, finding love outside of the family and giving birth to a dirty, disgusting thing."

Ivar's response is automatic as he slaps her hard enough across the face to make her head snap back. "If you weren't a mother holding a child, I'd break your jaw." He says this in the icy cold tone of fury he's so good at.

"You still don't understand. You'd rather sit there and sulk like a spoiled brat than face the fact that everything isn't as terrible as you want to think it is." He removes his hand from Winter's head, allowing the discomfort to resume. From where he stands, Letha is having the epitome of first-world problems. "I've seen cats that were better mothers than you. At least they actually want their children around and love them. She may cause pain, but you're doing the exact same thing to her."

She manages to remain entirely silent... Winter grabs onto her gown, and she can feel that headache coming on stronger than ever, the baby draining her energy stronger than ever as she watches silently. Letha can't even be sure if her daughter knows to be scared... but she knows she is terrified, in that moment.

"Get out." She finally mutters, teardrops falling on Winter's face and tiny hands. "Don't touch her, don't touch me, just get out!"

She doesn't want him to leave, she wants him to apologize. If he leaves... she may be left wondering how long it will be until he comes back, or if he'll even want to, and the thought is terrifying. But her face is stinging, her head is pounding, and he's putting pressure on her yet again to handle so much more than she's ready for.

Ivar doesn't say a word, barely even moving as he looks at the pair of them. He's still clearly furious, and were Letha anyone else, she'd be in great danger right now. He's completely dispassionate in contrast to Letha's emotional outburst. He's beginning to think this whole feeling actual emotions thing is way worse than not caring for anyone at all.

Finally, without a word, he turns his chair and wheels himself over to the door of the room. Letha's tears aren't going to persuade him to change his mind this time. Just before he leaves, he pauses, and says quietly without looking back, "You poor thing."

It's not clear if he's talking to Letha or Winter. Then he's gone, not to return until his fury has abated once more. But he'll be back. Winter needs him as a father more than ever now. He won't abandon her, not the way his own father had done to him.

Lola had a problem with hospitals, so her visits while Letha was still in there were... few. It wasn't a specific moment just a general dislike for how it feels to be there. It was too... sterile, and uniform, and the smell was weird. Plus, of course, Lola was completely without value in a hospital. She was cute, and not even that cute when she was in a hospital. But that was it.

And in a home, with a kitchen, and ingredients, and a Letha who would not be able to argue with Lola's putting her skills to work, was a Lola with value. Lola figured hearty food to help Letha keep her strength up was the best use of her skills. Lola's head was still full of all the research she did when she was pregnant, so she wasn't useless. She just gave the baby a lot of space and didn't... want to hold her, or touch her. Lola was sure she'd break her and that'd be bad.

"Letha, lunch is ready!" Lola had made spaghetti and meatballs because she wanted to. And she made enough Letha could eat the leftovers for days.

Winter is napping in her crib, at the moment, and Letha is rather glad to have some time away from her. Despite Lola commenting they aren't her style, her hair is in pigtails again to keep it out of her face... at least it's regaining some color now that she's in better shape.

In the back of her mind, she sort of hopes Lola isn't too put off by how much she likes to decorate with animal skulls. Even a few human skulls, but only the ones that provide interesting conversation and know to stay quiet when she has guests.

"Give me a moment, I'll be right there..." She flips off her tablet, having felt rather useless in the kitchen despite her efforts to improve, and wanders over to wait for Lola at the dining table. She'd love to help carry things over, but... she still can't handle holding anything heavier than Winter, and that isn't much at all. "You know, you're much too good to me for how I've treated you lately.." She's apologized profusely but that doesn't mean she feels like she should stop apologizing.

Lola is doing one of those things she does best, pretending something she doesn't like isn't real until she's okay with it. Which is how she keeps from having to deal with the animal skulls. Also not touching them or looking at them and if one is unfortunately in her sightlines she puts something down in front of them.

Why are her friends weird?

"You were mad, even if it wasn't my fault. You can't help what you felt." Which didn't change the fact that Lola wasn't entirely sure how Letha kept herself fed regularly anyway. And that was before the hospital and baby issues happened. Lola had no trouble carrying multiple plates of food at once, that was sorta her job. So she came in and put down a plate for Letha, and one for herself, "And I'm basically a saint. Please stop worrying about how you treated me until after you get better?"

She raises a brow, but she can't deny that Lola has been nothing but a good presence, with exception to that one mistake... which, yes, wasn't quite her. And she is slowly starting to accept that she has nothing to worry about in that regard.

"I'll... try my best." She mutters sheepishly, knowing full well she'll go right back to apologizing later. "In any case, it's... nice to see you. I know I haven't been talkative, but I've.. needed the company."

As she speaks, she subconsciously steals a sullen glance toward the nursery. Ivar has been around more to get up in the middle of the night and feed her so Letha can sleep, but that also means he's more likely to overhear when she gets snippy with her daughter.

"I'm sorry I couldn't visit you in the hospital. I just... don't really like doing that." Childbirth was still a nightmare she had no desire to even witness. She just couldn't handle anything her research told her about it.

Lola watches her look toward the nursery, "How are you handling, you know, everything?" She isn't really sure of what to ask or how to ask it. Clearly there was more going on with Letha, the girl was worse at hiding things than Lola. The problem is Lola couldn't even begin on figuring out that something, just that it was there and she should probably poke it with a stick.

She fully intends to speak well of Winter, and pretend everything is fine. And she opens her mouth to do so... and her shoulders slump, and she lets out a very tired sigh.

"She's..." how does she put this lightly? "She's deformed. Ivar doesn't see the problem, and it's just..." And as soon as she starts thinking about it, she also starts holding back tears. For about five seconds before holding her face in her hands and letting out a muffled sob, God, she is so far from ready to be a mother.

"What, exactly, is wrong with her?" Lola had come around the table to put her arm around Letha, this sort of thing was easier with contact. 'Deformed' isn't a word Lola liked, and detail wise it didn't tell her anything. To Lola, this could be any in the multitude of options she's seen on TV. Some of them were very bad, and others... could be fixed.

Probably easier here, given this place is some super future moon city.

"Ivar wouldn't, would he?" Lola's never asked if the no working legs was birth or viking related injury. Either way the fact that Ivar kept on keeping on meant that anything short of death was merely an obstacle. Not a roadblock. Which was either a good attitude, or the worst attitude. All based on how bad it really is.

She lets out something that could be either a bitter laugh or just a particularly breathy sob, at that Ivar comment. Yes, he really doesn't see the issue... Winter's legs work, she isn't hunchbacked or crooked, so she's fine in his eyes... and she doesn't drain his energy.

"She's what made me sick." She rubs at her eyes, not that it does much. "She's... she was dead, when I was... they didn't bring her back quite right when I came here. She's- she turned into a healer."

Lola's understanding of the topic is, well, not. This is magic, and at home magic wasn't real. It was a cute lark in vegas shows and a way to make video games less dumb.

"So... she has life powers, and that's bad for your creepy death powers?" Look she is trying to understand this but this is a lot more complicated. She can sorta see the idea they wouldn't like each other, but she can't guess why healy powers would make someone sicker... "And that's bad..?"

Bucky makes semi-frequent trips to the hospital to steal supplies, stocking up on things like bandages and various painkillers just in case. He hasn't been in much trouble since he got here, but he knows that these things just happen sometimes and it's best to be prepared for any eventually. But in all the times he's ever come here, he's never heard the wail of a newborn baby or seen a new mother.

He catches sight of her through an open door and stops, arrested by surprise. He looks like a dirty hobo, in a ratty hoodie and battered jeans, definitely not a doctor or another patient.

"..." Damn, he's staring, now he'll have to say something. "Congratulations, ma'am."

Well... in all honesty, her first thought was to assume he's breaking in. After glancing around the room a moment, as if searching for an explanation to who he is, she just fixes him with a cool look as she bristles slightly. Her hold on her child tightens a bit, making Winter reach to grip onto her mother's hospital gown.

"Thank you." She replies cautiously, her gaze darting over him again for a second before she adds, "Visiting a friend, I assume?"

It doesn't escape his notice that she's cautious, holding her child more protectively. It's saddening, that he's a threat even when he's trying not to be, but he doesn't blame her for her instincts. He is a danger, after all.

"No."

Just that, a one word answer, because it's not her business what he's doing.

"I've never seen a baby here before, you were pregnant when you came through?"

Another glance around, but... he seems to be harmless, so she nods quietly.

"Five months ago." She pauses, thinking for a moment before offering another attempt to figure out if he's dangerous: "I haven't seen you before, did you- when did you come through the portal?"

So she is one of the outsiders like he is, which makes her presence here even more of a surprise. He's not sure why, but he didn't think that someone pregnant would be pulled in here, it seems somehow unfair on the baby.

"A long time ago now."

He knows he had been one of the first in, at least with how the portals are working at the moment.

"I tend to keep my head down."

[It's been a weird month, but Taako tried to make as much time as possible to visit Letha, around dealing with the whole... Magnus thing and he was so incredibly relieved when she finally gave birth and got out of the hospital. He gives her a little space, those first few days to adjust to the whole baby thing, but eventually he puts together enough meals to last her about two weeks, and sends her a text to warn her she's coming and that he'll let himself in.

He turns up in the kitchen, announcing his presence with a gentle:]

Hey, bubbale, it's cha boy Taako.

[From their very brief interactions since she gave birth, Taako can tell that something isn't quite right, and his response to that is to just act like everything's totally okay. Treating her any differently will probably just make it worse.]

I'm gonna put a bunch of stuff in the freezer for ya, save you from dealing with a kitchen for the next couple weeks.

[She'd known Taako was coming, but she can't seem to control her emotions as much as she could before the birth - which is saying a lot, considering how much control she had before. When he comes in she's taken a break in the kitchen to be away from her daughter, and is holding back tears as best she can... which is not well. But when he comes in, she's quick to wipe her face and flash him the best smile she can manage. Two can play at this pretending to be fine game.]

Thank you... my mother never mentioned how much trouble having a newborn could be.

[Or- she had, several times, but Letha had chalked it up to being a particularly horrible child. Which isn't wrong.]

I've heard it's pretty fucking rough.

[Not from experience, or even like... adjacent experience, but it's hardly any kind of secret.

More importantly, though, Letha is really struggling, beyond what's expected of this kind of thing, so as soon as Taako has everything put away, he moves out to her and opens his arms, a silent offer for a hug.]

C'mere.

[Well, Letha's never going to refuse a hug. She makes a beeline over to hug Taako, clinging onto him and trying not to start crying all over again. At least... at least with Nico and Taako she can really disclose the more... sensitive issues with Winter.]

I'm afraid of her. [She admits after a moment, muffled against Taako's shirt.] I'm so, so afraid and Ivar doesn't... doesn't seem to notice or- or care...

[He's fine with her crying on him if she wants to, he's just going to stroke her hair and keep one arm solidly around her shoulders.]

I get it.

[Ivar isn't used to magic, the way he and Letha are, and even if the healers he's familiar with are nothing like what Taako is used to, he understands why they're something terrifying for Letha.]

But she's got you, yeah? No matter what she can do, you can teach her how to use her powers without hurting anyone, how to be good. You can help her.

[He doesn't know if this is the right approach, but he doesn't want to... dismiss Letha's feelings. He wants to refocus them.]

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[Open] The terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue...

Closed to Ivar - happens between i and ii.

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