milliways_bar | (no subject)

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New Year's Eve is also something of a birthday celebration for Ganymede: as such he greatly enjoyed himself, but this mid-morning he's sitting in the bar in a somewhat less crisp than it started dress shirt, a sweater over the back of his chair. He's sitting with a mirror, trying to get his hair back into some semblance of order--more difficult than it sounds with a braided arrangement.

He has a little cupcake on a saucer beside him, candle burning brightly and making him smile, and an open box with a wristwatch nestled in it.

Come interrupt, won't you?

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"Hey, Ganymede," Ragnar says, cheerfully. His visit to Milliways has so far been good and reassuring, and he's glad to see Ganymede as well. Once he's heard about Gyda, he can go back, and get on with things in his world.

"Hello, Ragnar," he greets. "How have you been faring? I haven't seen you in the bar in quite a while."

Every time he comes in, he looks for the man, if only to go get Gyda and have her be able to talk with her father. But he'll tell her soon anyway.

"Yes, I was very busy at home, preparing the next voyage to England, to get Athelstan back," Ragnar says. "And Aslaug had her child. Which is why I came here, really."

"Aslaug being your...companion?" he asks. "Boy or girl, this child she had?"

"Wife," Ragnar says, a bit hangdog. "And the child is a boy, but his legs are crippled."

"I take it by that look you're not madly in love," Ganymede chuckles, but he sobers at the next comment.

"What do you mean when you say he's crippled?" he asks.

"His legs are bent and useless, like octopus arms on land," Ragnar says.

"Do you love him any less as a son for that?" Ganymede questions.

"He's just a baby," Ragnar says. "I don't love him for anything at all yet, just love him because he is my baby. The views of my people tell me that the greatest love would be not to force him to live out a life as a cripple in a society of warriors -- but I couldn't -- and then Aslaug took him back. And Sinric said Ivar will be a great warrior, and a famous leader of our people, so I am going to keep and raise and support him. But it won't be easy for him."

"Nothing worthwhile is ever easy, Ragnar," Ganymede says. "Don't be too eager to deal with or in death, because even the wisest man on earth cannot see how everything ends. I can tell you that grieving for your dead child is a soul-breaking affair, and isn't something to be wished for, lightly or otherwise."

"I know," Ragnar says.

"And yet," he replies, soft-voiced.

"Gyda will want to speak with you, you know. It's been quite a while, I'm sure she has catching up to do with you. She joined the football team at her school, and girls' track. She's doing brilliantly in school."

"A daughter to be proud of, for all of us," Ragnar says. "Good news for Athelstan, when I find him."

"Have you not yet gone to get him?" Ganymede asks. "Gyda worries over him."

"It was only a month or so in Kattegat," Ragnar says. "We were getting ready. And now, we are."

"A month? What's taken you so long?"

"Collecting ships, warriors and supplies," Ragnar says. "Organising and promises and speeches. "It's not all that simple, and travel and transport take time."

"Perhaps you and I go about these things from different origins. For me, a month is far and away enough time to go get someone I loved. Or at least be on my way."

But then Ganymede has never tried to collect warriors for that purpose, so he has had no need of ships and supplies and organizing and promises and speeches.

"Not with several dozens of ships and half a dozen leaders, it's not," Ragnar says.

One didn't live with a person over a year before finding such things out.

Gyda came in from the milliways kitchen, an apron over her clothes. She came in earlier that morning, still tired from New Years celebrations, wanting a chance to cook breakfast in peace. She only just happened to take a chance look outside the door when she spotted her foster father-as well as the cupcake by his side.

She came in from the kitchen, a large plate of strawberry pancakes with whipped cream in hand. Strawberries weren't in season back home, and she could never just make a few of them.

"I made breakfast!" She smiled and held up two forks.

Birthday or not, she wasn't about to let him eat them all by himself-that was why she made extra.

The moment Ganymede saw Gyda with pancakes, he started to laugh, and pushed away from the table. "Thank you, Gyda, it's lovely."

He'd never specifically told her that he counted the turning of the new year as a birthday, because he'd never specifically meant to do it, but somewhere in the shuffle of calendars and moving around, he'd simply forgotten what day his actual birth had taken place.

She could've been civilized and gotten a plate for herself, but deep down she was always of the Northman-that meant sharing from a common plate. She of course planned this, which meant serving the pancake stack on an actual platter.

"You deserve more than a cupcake for birthday breakfast," Probably because there were no such things in their past.

She handed him a fork, before stabbing in with her own.

Civilized is somewhat overrated: Ganymede doesn't mind sharing plates and does so frequently at home. "Well," he says delicately, still grinning, "I have had protein."

A little.

"It's a wonderful gesture. Thank you, dear." He hugged her tight, squeezing for just a moment.

She smiled and returned the hug (also one-armed).

The 'had protein' still earned him a face. She knew of sex between man and woman, knew what happened in his room-she just didn't need to hear the details. "Have you seen father, Athelstan or any of the others?"

"I have seen your father, yes, he and I spoke just a little while ago," he says. "And I have seen Sinric recently, but not Athelstan."

He worried a little about the viking monk. "And don't give me such a face, there was bacon in the kitchen this morning. What did you think I meant?"

She frowned. She had yet to hear from Athelstan in over a year. She made a mental note to write him a message and leave it here.

His other words had her roll her eyes. "I wondered if maybe you had company." She may've been thirteen, but she wasn't that sheltered. "I did see the bacon though."

Which meant she didn't have to make any with the pancakes. "Any word from either of them-father or Sinric?"

"I did have company, but not that kind. Just a friend who gave me the watch." He smiles: very rarely does he indulge in more than a short fling with children around. It might be odd.

"Ragnar says he'll wait long enough to speak with you. But I didn't want to risk playing messenger."

"Would it help if I just left copies of a note with Milliways?" That way, atleast someone from home would receive it.

"Is there anything you could tell me?" Maybe he couldn't play messenger, but he could tell her what was going on. "Like with Sinric maybe?"

"It might. It's not that I don't want to tell you anything, Gyda. It's that I genuinely don't want to be the sole source of communication for you with your family," he says. "As far as I know Sinric is doing well."

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