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"Are you upset with me?"
If upset was the label Ivar was putting to your state of mind, it couldn't even cover it. At the current moment there were no words. That day you bounced around enraged, exhausted and now territorial. They all welled up in the perfect little bundle in your arms latched to your breast after many, many hours of hard labour. Ivar took a step closer with his crutch underneath his arm. Then another until he was at the foot of the bed beside you.
"I could not help the timing." Ivar slides onto the bed, dropping his crutch. You twist away from him ignoring his words. Of all the days he could have chosen, it was today that he missed. Wars happened, campaigns happened, but it was today that only happened once.
"Ah yes, perhaps I should have shoved her back in my womb until a date that is more well suited came along." You sass while unlatching her little mouth from your breast. She's fast asleep in your arms.
"And I am sure Lagertha and our armies would wait on my wife to give birth. I would have rather be here. You know this." Ivar snorts his response, offering out his hands when you tilt your daughter away from her father. His fingers curl inwards into fists. With a clench, he speaks.
"Let me have her." Ivar's brow strains with frustration. Your eyes harden to him, pulling the furs over your body. After this many hours, you want to lay down and rest the hours you can. Because in another two or three hours, she will be up and suckling down her milk again.
"Please." He begs.
"Fine..." Your lips purse into a thick pout as you hand her to him very carefully. He's quick to unravel the blankets that swaddle her in place to look over her legs before drifting back up to her face.
"The gods have cared for her, they've heard your prayers. And sacrifices." Relief seems to flood over him, allowing him to take in her soft features. A beautiful girl. He can pinpoint your lovely features on her face as well as his own. She's healthy and plump. It's all he could want. His fingers run over her cheeks for what feels like hours and by the gods, you can tell he's so in love.
"Why can I never stay angry at you..." You can't mad at him anymore. You lift yourself from your sheets and come over him, rubbing his shoulders. He looks up to you with nothing short of admiration, hopelessly in love.
"Can I kiss you?" Ivar tilts his head as your head nears his, bumping your foreheads together. You release an exhausted sigh while teasing your lips up against his. His lips run over yours softly, commanding a kiss before he draws back, flicking his wrist and telling you to rest. The moment your head hit the bed, you fall into an ethereal rest.
