[ Athelstan has contemplated trying to find a suitable half-truth to tell Ivar that would comfort him but he can't think of anything. Ragnar hasn't really done anything like this to him before, there's always been...something. This was without a word, without a look, a gesture or anything at all.
It leaves Athelstan more than a little puzzled, but there is little time for him to deal with his own feelings about it.
[Ivar doesn't sound like the eighteen year old Viking warlord who brought England to its knees. He sounds small and sad, the six year old child who had watched his father leave without a word, who had spent years waiting for that same father to come back, knowing he never might.]
[ There's a fragileness to Ivar's expression and his voice that makes Athelstan wish for the millionth time that he had been there for him when he was young. Maybe if he had then Ragnar would have been as well. It's hard to say what could have caused Ragnar to leave but Athelstan thinks that he could have kept Ragnar in place with his family. Somehow, Ragnar had lost his way and lost something that had been vital to him. ]
Of course. I promise you, Ivar.
[ And he's silently praying to both Odin and his own God that he is not making a promise that would be a lie. ]
[Not because Ivar thinks it might happen just on it's own, but because Athelstan has never lied to him or led him astray before. He has put a lot of trust into the priest. Athelstan deserves it, for he has become a rock, someone Ivar could rely on when he had no one else to turn to. He sighs, elbows propped on the table as he puts his head on top of his closed fists.]
I waited for him to come back for so long as a child. For years, I thought he'd just come back one day like nothing had happened. It took ten years. How could he love me if he did a thing like that?
[ There's a moment of hesitation when Ivar's head lowers. Athelstan's heart cracks a little and he wonders if Ragnar truly understands the gravity of his decisions on who Ivar is and even now continuing to shape him.
Athelstan's hand rests on Ivar's head, a gentle and brief touch, no ruffling of the hair or any such thing before he moves to pour the boy a drink and sits down again with a heavy sigh. ]
Love is not a simple thing. Not with Ragnar. [ Athelstan hedges a little and chooses his next words very carefully. ]
I am not sure that he has ever loved anyone so much as he loved Lagertha and he could not back down and admit a mistake. I don't think he could even tell her, not in words, not in the ways that mattered when they would matter most.
[ There's a rueful smile then. ]
His weakness brought you into the world, though, and kept you in it. But his weakness, his inability to... [ He searches for the words... ] His inability to truly be honest with himself, with his mistakes is likely what led him away not a lack of love. Love has never been enough for him to do what is right.
[Ivar's low enough that he accepts the priest's touch without irritability or stiffening up trying to push his hand away. He listens without comment.
But when the mention of Lagertha is made, his head snaps back up, and there's the burning fire of hatred in his eyes. He's never told anyone here that she'd killed his mother. He didn't want Ragnar or Gyda to know and it had just never come up with Athelstan. Even without saying anything, it's clear that something happened to earn Ivar's everlasting hate.
He drinks pensively, thinking on what Athelstan has told him. He knows his father is far from perfect and he accepted that a long time ago. But still, his shortcomings are still sometimes too much for his son to answer, the wounds Ragnar had left from an absent childhood unable to heal.]
The problem with being a great man is having great mistakes as well as great triumphs.
[ It wouldn't take a genius to guess that any one of Ragnar's sons with Aslaug might not like Lagertha. And it's only clearer that there is a deep-seated anger and hatred within Ivar that Athelstan can't explain -- after all, the Lagertha he knew had never done anything to anyone that would have warranted such hatred. This was no time to ask. ]
It is true and unfortunately, your father is also weak when it comes to admitting when he has wronged someone... I am sorry that it has caused you to suffer. But I do not believe he would leave you again the way he did before, nor Gyda. The Ragnar I knew before you, would have never done so.
When he does, he is going to have much to answer for.
[The words are a bit ominous, but while Ivar might want to make his father hurt, he has never wanted to kill him, not even in his worst rages.
Instead, he sits up, pulling his shoes off, and then morphing into the husky dog form he likes so often to take. He goes over to Athelstan and whines, hopping up into his lap. A husky is a big dog to sit there. Ivar leans his furry head on Athelstan's shoulder, needing comfort right now.]
[ Athelstan sighs, relatively sure already that there were going to be more knife and axe marks in the walls of their home. It's normal enough but there had been peace for some time at least.
He doesn't have to say anything else before Ivar has turned into the husky. It's always a strange thing, at first, the transformation but the husky has now become synonymous with Ivar and the dog is able to get onto his lap without any resistance.
In truth, Athelstan needs comfort too and this is by far some of the best possible. His hand strokes the dog's head, rubbing between his ears and then downward. ]
[Ivar lets himself sink into the instincts of the dog, the simple nature and innate optimism. It makes this emotional state easier to be broken down into little easily-digestible chunks. He whines again, low in his throat, as Athelstan rubs behind his ears. It's easier to talk when he knows no one else will overhear what he has to say.]
[ Ivar's comment makes Athelstan's heart twist for him again. He wants to promise that he never will but that's not one he could know he could keep. He cannot tell the future though he knows he will never want to leave Ivar behind. He continues to pet him, it's a little easier to offer him comfort this way, beyond mere words. ]
Some people are only meant to be in our lives for a season but you can bear it and you will find those who never leave. And sometimes people come back and we accept that paths sometimes criss-cross.
[Despite all his sadness, the dog instincts respond to the petting much more positively than his mind does. His tail slowly begins to wag back and forth.]
<It's all too much. My parents, Floki, my brothers...none have ever stayed.>
[Of course, the common factor there was Ivar, but he wasn't taking responsibility for his part in driving his brothers away. At least the other three had their reasons.]
[ Athelstan sighs softly, the sadness weighing on him more as he pets him. ]
Sometimes, people have to leave but often they come back. I left your father but I came back. You have to leave room to allow people to do what they need to do. Sometimes they don't really have a choice.
[ He rubs one of the dog's ears. ]
And sometimes, you might make it hard for them to stay.
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It leaves Athelstan more than a little puzzled, but there is little time for him to deal with his own feelings about it.
He gives Ivar a small smile. ]
I am sure but I am sure he will be back soon.
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[Ivar doesn't sound like the eighteen year old Viking warlord who brought England to its knees. He sounds small and sad, the six year old child who had watched his father leave without a word, who had spent years waiting for that same father to come back, knowing he never might.]
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Of course. I promise you, Ivar.
[ And he's silently praying to both Odin and his own God that he is not making a promise that would be a lie. ]
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[Not because Ivar thinks it might happen just on it's own, but because Athelstan has never lied to him or led him astray before. He has put a lot of trust into the priest. Athelstan deserves it, for he has become a rock, someone Ivar could rely on when he had no one else to turn to. He sighs, elbows propped on the table as he puts his head on top of his closed fists.]
I waited for him to come back for so long as a child. For years, I thought he'd just come back one day like nothing had happened. It took ten years. How could he love me if he did a thing like that?
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Athelstan's hand rests on Ivar's head, a gentle and brief touch, no ruffling of the hair or any such thing before he moves to pour the boy a drink and sits down again with a heavy sigh. ]
Love is not a simple thing. Not with Ragnar. [ Athelstan hedges a little and chooses his next words very carefully. ]
I am not sure that he has ever loved anyone so much as he loved Lagertha and he could not back down and admit a mistake. I don't think he could even tell her, not in words, not in the ways that mattered when they would matter most.
[ There's a rueful smile then. ]
His weakness brought you into the world, though, and kept you in it. But his weakness, his inability to... [ He searches for the words... ] His inability to truly be honest with himself, with his mistakes is likely what led him away not a lack of love. Love has never been enough for him to do what is right.
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But when the mention of Lagertha is made, his head snaps back up, and there's the burning fire of hatred in his eyes. He's never told anyone here that she'd killed his mother. He didn't want Ragnar or Gyda to know and it had just never come up with Athelstan. Even without saying anything, it's clear that something happened to earn Ivar's everlasting hate.
He drinks pensively, thinking on what Athelstan has told him. He knows his father is far from perfect and he accepted that a long time ago. But still, his shortcomings are still sometimes too much for his son to answer, the wounds Ragnar had left from an absent childhood unable to heal.]
The problem with being a great man is having great mistakes as well as great triumphs.
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It is true and unfortunately, your father is also weak when it comes to admitting when he has wronged someone... I am sorry that it has caused you to suffer. But I do not believe he would leave you again the way he did before, nor Gyda. The Ragnar I knew before you, would have never done so.
[ Athelstan offers a tired smile. ]
He always comes back. He'll be back soon.
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[The words are a bit ominous, but while Ivar might want to make his father hurt, he has never wanted to kill him, not even in his worst rages.
Instead, he sits up, pulling his shoes off, and then morphing into the husky dog form he likes so often to take. He goes over to Athelstan and whines, hopping up into his lap. A husky is a big dog to sit there. Ivar leans his furry head on Athelstan's shoulder, needing comfort right now.]
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[ Athelstan sighs, relatively sure already that there were going to be more knife and axe marks in the walls of their home. It's normal enough but there had been peace for some time at least.
He doesn't have to say anything else before Ivar has turned into the husky. It's always a strange thing, at first, the transformation but the husky has now become synonymous with Ivar and the dog is able to get onto his lap without any resistance.
In truth, Athelstan needs comfort too and this is by far some of the best possible. His hand strokes the dog's head, rubbing between his ears and then downward. ]
It'll be alright.
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<Everyone leaves me eventually. I can't bear it.>
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Some people are only meant to be in our lives for a season but you can bear it and you will find those who never leave. And sometimes people come back and we accept that paths sometimes criss-cross.
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<It's all too much. My parents, Floki, my brothers...none have ever stayed.>
[Of course, the common factor there was Ivar, but he wasn't taking responsibility for his part in driving his brothers away. At least the other three had their reasons.]
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Sometimes, people have to leave but often they come back. I left your father but I came back. You have to leave room to allow people to do what they need to do. Sometimes they don't really have a choice.
[ He rubs one of the dog's ears. ]
And sometimes, you might make it hard for them to stay.