ataraxionlogs | EVENT: MELPOMENE ▒ HOME

[ Robin's heart is heavy as he steps through yet another door, fearing the worst. His bow is at the ready, ready to fell any potential beast awaiting him.

He's completely surprised to find himself approaching a small homestead, and the sound of laughter carries across the soft wind blowing past him. He lowers his bow, not wanting to alarm anyone unnecessarily, and approaches slowly while continuing to assess what's going on. ]

Hello!

[ There's a soft look in his eyes, the hint of a smile on his face. ] Do pardon the intrusion, I wondered if you could tell me where I am, precisely?

[ last time, his reception had been quite cold. but now it seems almost as though the hands of time have been manually forced to turn back. the small girl at her side is laughing, bright and just beginning to show signs of being caught between girlhood and womanhood. lagertha runs a gentle hand through her hair as the girl replaces her training gear where it belongs. she leans down to whisper to her to go see to the livestock, and looks up at robin with a smile as she runs off.

behind them, the door to the house seems to be filled with a strange light, even given the presence of a large hearth therein. ]

I remember you. Hello. [ and she does; he was kind to her, but it is fuzzy as to in what context. not like it matters. she is in no danger with him, and that is all that matters. lagertha returns his smile. ]

This is my farmstead, a week's walk from Kattegat. If you'd like anything to eat or drink, I have a skin of ale here and food cooking inside.

[ He's grateful for the shift in her demeanor, knowing that some memories of their previous encounter have carried over. He can remember it a bit more vividly, even with the madness the ship has put him through. He wouldn't bemoan his circumstances aloud - not that he has anyone to complain to - but he knows he's not alone, and he has faith that this will pass. He has to believe that, otherwise he won't retain his grip on sanity if this continues on.

With a warm smile, Robin approaches closer, though he's curious about the young girl, and a bit unsettled about it all. ]

Thank you for the kindness. Are you well? You seem in better spirits.

[ she grasps at her hair and tugs it over her shoulders and out of the way. then she takes the skin of ale from her belt and offers it to him without any further preamble. he has been kind to her, she remembers. somehow, somewhere, he has been good to her and she has been able to remember thus. whatever this is they are going through, it's almost a comfort that it seems as though they are meant to endure it together. they are, neither of them, alone in this.

lagertha returns his smile, once again somehow deeply certain that he poses no threat to either herself nor her daughter. ]

It is the least I can do, to return a kindness you've already given me. I'm feeling much better.

[ girlish laughter pipes up nearby, and she nods. ]

My daughter has been returned to me. It would be impossible not to feel better. And you, how have you been faring?

[ the laughter comes again, nearer. but lagertha seems to heed it not. gyda is probably just playing with the animals. ]

[ Robin couldn't fathom a crueler fate; some strange force beyond his understanding is controlling all of this, putting them through this, and it seems like the worst torture to return someone's lost child to them, to give them what they've likely longed for most, when it's something they can't keep.

It's not real, none of this is.

But how to explain that?

He doesn't want to be the one to take this from her.

Taking the ale with a grateful nod, Robin sips at it a few times before handing it back to her. ]

I'm certainly grateful for the ale at the moment, it's a pleasant distraction from what's been happening.

[ The sound of a child's laugh floating across the wind tugs at his heart, making him think of his own boy, far removed from him. ]

She's beautiful, your little one.

Being back here is much like that for me. There have been many times where I missed the simpler life of a farmer.

[ on some level, she is aware that this can't last. it is much too sweet a dream to be made reality. and now that her husband has another wife who can bear him children, she needs to carve out her own place in the world. but for right now, this moment; she wants to cling fiercely to this idyll with her daughter.

and to this pleasant moment with someone she can't rightly call a stranger anymore. comrade, perhaps? she continues to smile. ]

Gyda always was, from the moment she was born. I have— [ she catches herself. ] had plans to teach her to wield an iron sword.

What of you? Do you have children of your own? [ behind them, the laughter suddenly dies and the figure of gyda appears behind robin. ]

"Mother, shouldn't you go inside and get some food for us?"

A son. Roland. He's recently turned four, and he's truly everything to me.

[ When Lagertha's daughter reappears, Robin is transfixed by the child for a moment, because she's so real, standing before them now. And it's not like so many other rooms he's ventured into; he can't simply slay an evil creature of some sort and rescue Lagertha from this waking nightmare masquerading as a pleasant dream.

He can only stand here helplessly, trying to figure out how to coax this woman back with him, where he knows it's safe. ]

[ her demeanour in this place is much more relaxed than previously, but her features soften further. she smiles, because she remembers well when bjorn was that small. it feels like yesterday. ]

Each day brings something new and wonderful to them at that age. Their imagination is boundless. It is a precious thing.

I think he is a very lucky boy to have you.

[ but when gyda reappears, the smile freezes upon her face. there is something amiss in the tone of her daughter's voice, in the way she stands. meeting robin's eyes briefly, her confusion and suspicion both are evident.

the light from the doorway is warm at her back. but she makes no move to enter the home. ]

It is a rare fine day, Gyda. We aren't in a rush to eat.

[ still, the illusory child seems undaunted. she steps closer. ]

"But I'm hungry. And it's hot out. Can't we go inside?"

[ Speaking of their children together like this makes it easier to connect with her. All friendships inevitably form as a result of a commonality, and this happens to be theirs. He wonders what else they have in common, in what other ways their lives might have been similar. ]

I do try my best, though I daresay I'm lucky to have him. After I lost my wife, I didn't want to go on, but Roland became the center of my world, my purpose and my second chance.

[ His thoughts drift when Gyda returns, and though his eyes are soft, they narrow slightly as he studies the young girl. She's insistent on getting her mother inside, towards that light, and a feeling of dread surges through him. Whatever manner of magic is possessing the young girl masquerading as her daughter, Robin knows he'll need to tread carefully, and not say anything immediately alarming. ]

It's such a pleasant day, it would be a terrible shame to forfeit this sunshine.

[ the love of family is a universal thing that can unite people from different worlds, cultures and period in time. which is certainly what is happening here. lagertha can feel her features soften further, because she can relate on the level only another parent might understand. ]

It's because you are. Children are precious. [ she quiets for a minute, and nods. ] I am sorry for your loss. My husband lives, but I lost him by other means. Bjorn is all I have left, too.

You can have no finer purpose to live than your son.

[ she understands. death might not have taken ragnar from her, but she has lost him all the same. or perhaps more aptly, he has lost her. and they have both lost this bright, beautiful little girl who now seems adamant about getting her inside the house. it doesn't sit right with her. she doesn't trust it. ]

That it would. And you aren't finished your chores, my darling. Go finish feeding the animals.

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[ the love of family is a universal thing that can unite people from different worlds, cultures and period in time. which is certainly what is happening here. lagertha can feel her features soften further, because she can relate on the level only another parent might understand. ]

It's because you are. Children are precious. [ she quiets for a minute, and nods. ] I am sorry for your loss. My husband lives, but I lost him by other means. Bjorn is all I have left, too.

You can have no finer purpose to live than your son.

[ she understands. death might not have taken ragnar from her, but she has lost him all the same. or perhaps more aptly, he has lost her. and they have both lost this bright, beautiful little girl who now seems adamant about getting her inside the house. it doesn't sit right with her. she doesn't trust it. ]

That it would. And you aren't finished your chores, my darling. Go finish feeding the animals.

<small[ but the girl doesn't do as she asks. instead, her smile becomes eerily sweeter, and she takes a few more strides forward. ]

"I said I'm hungry, Mother."

[ Though his companion hasn't said as much - likely to be sure they don't alert the young girl that they're onto her - he suspects that she knows something is wrong, otherwise she likely wouldn't continue to resist following her daughter inside.

Because this isn't her daughter, and very likely isn't even human.

What manner of magic are they dealing with here, he wonders? And how to stop it? If they anger her, what consequences are they inviting upon themselves? Still, to give in and follow her would lead to certain death, no doubt. ]

Perhaps there's food to be found out here? Sweet berries to munch on for a while? We could scout it out together.

[ indeed. if this was really her, then she would not demand anything of her parents. but more to the point of fact: gyda is gone. the archer's presence here is causing her to remember, and see through the thick haze which has previously clouded her mind. the girl who bore such a sweetness of temper even when she was so very sick, whose feather-light body she'd placed and burned upon a pyre herself is no more.

whatever this creature is, it is an insult to gyda's memory. ragnar would not stand for it. and neither will she. ]

Now that you have mentioned it, the berries are in season. Come on.

[ she glances quickly at robin, with a small smile of gratitude. she thinks this just might work—only, loki is cleverer than this. such a simple diversion would fool no foul magic of his.

and it does not seem to have fooled the image of her child, who now advances upon her, an eerie smile marring her daughter's perfect visage. ]

"No. You're going to go inside. We're going to be a family again!"

[ the words stop her cold and prevent her from moving. as far as her daughter has known, they were still a family at the time of her death. lagertha stares at the image of her child, and somehow finds the ability to move and arm herself with a pair of hunting knives someone had fortuitously left upon the sill of the window. ]

No, we won't. You're not part of my family. [ oh, it kills her to say it to her daughter's face, real or otherwise. she clenches her teeth and wills her strength not to waver. ] I've buried a daughter and a son. Ragnar has made his choice, and I have done the same.

Bjorn and I will be a family. [ she doesn't intend to die here today. armed, she puts herself between the creature and robin, intent upon protecting him. ] You insult the memory of my daughter.

[ It would be terrible enough to see your child seemingly returned to you, only to discover they weren't real. But this is far worse, to see what's obviously a very false representation of this woman's young child, twisted to fit some dark purpose.

He can tell by the look in his companion's eyes, that her daughter was nothing like this, that this is a terrible offense to her memory.

His thoughts are confirmed when she speaks of the insult this creature has placed upon the child's memory, and he grips at his bow, ready to use it if necessary, though he feels that for now, this is her fight. He'll remain right at her side, ready to act if the creature becomes too difficult to handle alone. ]

[ though she doesn't address him now, she is never unaware of his steadfast presence at her back. it is a comfort. if she'd had to face this creature alone, she might have gone mad. he provided much-needed levity and strength that once again make her feel as though she is standing side-by-side with dozens of her people in a battle formation. formidable because of their unity.

now, she will ensure that he does not get hurt as she is. her limp is pronounced enough to be cumbersome. while she runs on adrenaline like she is currently, the pain is dulled to a bearable minimum. but she knows that she will need to take care of this quickly. as much as she dreads it. the creature wearing her daughter's face throws back its head and laughs, almost gloating. ]

"Ragnar made that choice because you are weak!" [ on a good day, her temper is tethered by an incredibly short fuse. today, it is nonexistent. she trusts that her companion will not judge her for flying into the rage she does, baring her teeth at the child. there is a moment where it and she lock gazes, assessing one-another. and then it charges, but not at her.

lagertha pushes herself into overdrive to intercept the course, determined that no harm shall come to him. her feet pound against the dirt and her knees skid and are skinned as she skids toward the creature level with its abdomen and slams the daggers home. the image of gyda halts and looms over her, eyes wide and dilated with shock and surprise before w rattling wheeze escapes its throat, and the body slumps over.

before it even hits the ground, there are tears in lagertha's eyes. she can't even catch her breath, because she is laying herself over the still form of her daughter's image, feeling that rending and shattering of her heart all over again. and she weeps, for the first time in what feels like an age. even for her, this is too much. ]

[ Robin can only watch, partially struck dumb that this can happen at all, and another part of him feeling that it's somehow not right for him to intrude on what's unfolding before his eyes. He has his weapon ready, should things escalate to a point that he needs to intervene.

But he restrains himself for now, not wanting to be the one killing her "daughter," not when he knows she's already lost the girl before. He's silently grateful when she steps in front of him, and immediately aims his arrow, but it proves to be unnecessary before he's even had a chance to fully catch his breath.

The "girl" is gone, and the anguish coming from the other woman is palpable, slicing a sharp line right down the center of his heart. He has no need for his weapon at the moment, so he sets it down and kneels beside his companion after a few long moments have passed. His hand comes to rest on her back, holding there for now in an attempt to offer some comfort. ]

[ the grief is shattering, tearing at what's left of the heart ragnar has so recently broken. it's a resilient organ, but in the past several months, it has been through the wringer. to see the daughter she's already said goodbye to once crumpled and lifeless at her feet by her own hand is more than she can bear. and she will never say it, because she would rather tear out her lungs than expose further weakness in herself. but she is grateful for her companion's supportive presence at her back.

lagertha does not recoil from him, much too focused upon the grief she cannot conceal this second time to do so. she is weeping, but she makes no sound whatsoever. her chest is so tight and her throat so tied up in knots thanks to her silent sobbing that it's difficult to breathe. her hands clutch uselessly at the body of her "daughter", holding it to her breast while she chokes out whispered apologies to her true daughter in norse. their nanites will translate, of course, but it hardly matters.

her companion has saved her life, as she has saved his. and though she is much aggrieved, she can't regret that. a good deal of time goes by before the tears finally stop, and only then does she turn her head to once again be surprised that he is still there. ]

...Thank you.

[ for coming to her rescue not once but twice, and for staying now. there are no words for how much such basic empathy and kindness mean to her. the words are whispered quietly, her voice hoarse and choked. but she is able to manage a small smile for him. it's something. ]

[ It doesn't feel entirely appropriate for him to say any sort of prayer aloud, not knowing what she believes about the afterlife. It hardly matters to him if they differ in those beliefs, but this is a moment just for her to contend with her grief; the wound has been reopened, the pain visceral and likely all she can focus on. He doesn't want to do anything to undermine her journey through these painful moments.

All the words of comfort he can think to utter sound like hollow platitudes to him, which is why he simply remains where he is, keeping a hand at her back. It's a way to tell her that he's here without stating the obvious.

Feeling helpless and uncertain as to how else he could possibly make this better, Robin returns her small smile with one of his own. And then he reaches down in a demonstration of respect, to smooth a hand over the back of the young girl's head. It's a slight touch, and he hopes it doesn't offend his companion, but it feels right to do it, because he's sharing this moment with her. ]

May she rest well.

[ originally when the plague had taken her the first time, athelstan had been there to whisper one of his christian prayers over the body of her daughter. it hadn't offended her in the least. she is aware that other lands have different forms of belief. robin is free to pray or say whatever he likes. after all they have just been through, she'd give him that allowance, which only athelstan has ever otherwise had.

for a while, she lets herself do what she hadn't been able to do not so long ago: just sit here, smoothing her fingers through her daughter's hair, drawing the pad of a thumb gently across her pale cheek. there is a void in her which no one else will ever occupy. slowly, she leans forward and presses a kiss to a brow now gone cold and still, while her companion exerts an incredible sense of gentleness in the way he smooths the child's hair back. ]

I shall send you back to the Gods, Gyda. Watch over your little brother for me, until I might see you both again.

[ there are no tears left to cry, though the yawning abyss which has become her heart has numbed her so much that she could not even if she wished it. all she can do is give another look a silent, pained gratitude to her companion and set about building another funeral pyre. so soon after the last. she works with aggrieved purpose, taking her axe to the very homestead she'd helped ragnar build, which was, she can now remember, lost to a fire so long ago.

as the house comes apart, she stacks the wood high, to ensure that the pillar of smoke and thus her daughter's soul will reach her gods on a more permanent basis this time. all the while, she entrusts robin to stay with her daughter's body, a silent show of a deep trust this experience has created in her. she is grateful for his presence. were she alone, this loss would drive her mad.

when the pyre is done and she has made a crown of wildflowers to place upon the child's head, she gently lifts the body, pausing long enough to nod to her companion. yes, he could join her in saying goodbye. the last thing she wished in this world was to be alone. gyda's body is placed upon the pyre, but this time she does not light it herself. instead, as she can finally feel tears rise in her eyes again, she hands the torch to the man at her side, so that he might. her throat is so knotted and dry that she can't even speak. but her intent is clear. ]

[ When Marian died, Robin initially took comfort in the prayers uttered for her passing, but as his grief continued unabated, it was difficult to find comfort in what felt like hollow words. He certainly wanted her spirit to be in a peaceful place, wherever she was, but he was angry and heartbroken that she wasn't with him, and those prayers eventually lost their meaning for quite a while.

But that time has passed, and he's grown stronger because of it. His heart is more resilient, and in a strange way, he feels he's more hopeful and open to second chances now that he's seen it's entirely possible.

He can only hope that his companion finds the same peace, as time goes on, and if he can help her in that regard at all, he certainly intends to.

Remaining reverent as he reaches the ritual, Robin nods once as he takes the torch, bending down to light the pyre, then standing back. He murmurs a few soft prayers under his breath, wishing her spirit protection and love, and to find a way back to her mother when their spirits are destined to meet again. ]

[ for what seems like time unending, lagertha watches the body of her daughter's doppelgänger is slowly consumed by the flames of the pyre. stone-faced and silent, what she is feeling may have remained a mystery if not for the lone tear which tracks down her right cheek. to her, it does not matter if this was really her daughter or not. the likeness had been incredible. and for just the briefest of moments, she had actually thought that she'd had her family back.

her son, her daughter... and perhaps her husband, too. with a clearer mind now, she can remember how he has turned his back upon her for the sake of more children. but for bjorn, she is alone in this world and every other. or is she? there is a friend at her side now, a steadfast companion she had not expected to find. lagertha is glad that he is here to share this with her, and that she is not alone. as alone as she had been when she'd first lost her daughter. ]

When she was very young, she would run everywhere. Faster than one of Thor's bolts of lightning. She grew into a quiet child, though. Such stillness there was in her.

It would not have been long before I would have had to relinquish her to adulthood.

[ she cannot share these things with ragnar. he has his sons now, and all she has are memories. ]

[ As his eyes linger on the pyre before them, Robin can't help but let his thoughts drift to his son, thinking of how much he longs to hold his sweet boy in his arms, to hear his voice, to see him smile. He wonders how many days he'll be condemned to endure on this ship, so far away from him.

Watching the flames dance before him, he feels utterly heartbroken for his companion. It's a pain that only another parent can understand. ]

She would have been a strong woman, with you as her mother.

[ He hopes his words don't offend, and he wonders if he should even say anything like that; it prolongs the conversation about her daughter, and maybe she would prefer that not happen at all. ]

[ lagertha had once stood in this position before the whole of the village, and watched alone until the flames had turned the body of her only daughter into nothing but ash. now, she does not need to worry about keeping up a strong appearance. this man who has chosen to stay already knows that. this time she is able to trust in that. he must be thinking of his own little boy now, and while her heart is broken, it somehow still manages to suffer a pang or two of empathy.

she takes a long, shaky inhale of air, and nods. ]

That is kind of you to say. I think she might have been stronger than me. She was wiser at twelve than I am now.

[ which partly bespeaks of her skill as a mother, to have raised her so well. but also of her daughter's incredible fortitude. speaking of her does her heart easier. keeping the memories bottled because ragnar had chosen to grieve alone had been a terrible burden.

this time, she does not feel as though she is alone. for that reason, she hesitantly reaches over to quietly take her companion's hand. he can let go as he likes, her grasp is loose. ]

I think our children are always wiser and stronger than us, thankfully for them. They learn from us, from what we could have done, or wished we had done.

[ That's not to say he thinks himself a terrible father, or a father who would eventually have many regrets. But he thinks part of the point in life is to always learn and grow, and to hope that their children thrive and do better in ways he couldn't even begin to fathom. ]

We do our best.

[ It's clear to him that she loves her children very much, and that's all anyone can truly ask; that a parent should love their child unconditionally, and do anything possible to care for them, keep them safe.

He's not expecting the touch, but he looks down, and with a warm smile, squeezes her hand in return, hoping to imbue her being with some of his own strength. ]

Yes. And I also let them make their own mistakes. Bjorn in particular has learned well from the scrapes he has gotten into.

( nor is she saying she is or was a terrible mother. what she hopes is that what she has taught him is enough that he knows wrong from right, and is able to make his own decisions now without her holding his hand. but of course, it's different with bjorn because he's half-grown. he already has his arm-ring. eventually, she will have to let go.

once she finds him, she can concern herself with that process. maybe it's a bit selfish, but she's glad that he changed his mind and left with her. she'd been prepared to go into the unknown alone, but she depends on his company a great deal. it's too bad he's being kept from her, somewhere. she nods quietly, willing herself not to let her guard down any further. she still has her pride. )

It's all we can do. And hope they make good decisions once they've learned all we have to teach them.

( lagertha sighs, letting the sight of the fire before her transfix her until the acrid smoke burns her eyes. it doesn't matter. she won't look away until this body is reduced to ash. then she will know that it's gone, whatever it was. and that it's left her daughter's spirit alone to watch over her.

honestly, she hadn't expected him to allow it. it's not always easy, leaning on others. but it does help a little, and though she doesn't look at him, she squeezes his hand back. thank you, is what the gesture says. )

My son is not yet at an age where he makes a considerable amount of mistakes that...mean much of anything.

[ At Roland's age, his mistakes just tend to be not listening to his father and wandering off, which certainly has consequences, but isn't generally life-altering. ]

I hope I've raised him well enough that he'll gain wisdom from the mistakes he does eventually make.

[ Especially since she initiated the touch, Robin doesn't intend to let go until she indicates she's ready. He can easily see that she needs this, and wouldn't dare pull away until she feels ready.

Then again, who could ever be ready for the sight before them now? ]

EVENT: MELPOMENE ▒ HOME

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Excuse that horrendous html fail in my last tag. :s

It happens, no worries! <3

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