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They come awake to the sound of their girl’s strong lungs. Deep, shaking cries that pierce the thin veil of sleep that was thrown over their eyes for barely a handful of hours.
“Gods, not again.” Eivor whispered tiredly into her pillow, the exhaustion clear on her face. Ivarr strokes a hand down Eivor’s side, still in awe of the soft, womanly shape of her as he was the day they met. “Why won’t she sleep?”
“She is stubborn like you.” Ivarr said, just as weary but at the high point of overtired where he felt he might as well stay awake. Having never gotten along well with sleep prior to their having a child, Ivarr did not struggle to adjust to these new sleeping patterns with as much difficulty as Eivor. He moved to get up and Eivor reached for him, her hand weakly gripping his wrist.
“It’s fine, I will get her.”
“No. You rest.”
“Ivarr-“
“She isn’t hungry, she’s just fussing. I will sit up with her for a while.”
“You don’t have to.” Eivor said, the conviction in her voice weakening as she sank back into the pillows. Ivarr circled the bed and approached the bassinet.
Upon seeing her father looming over her, Arvida’s cries weakened to small hiccuping sobs.
“Hej, little one.” He said quietly in Danish, to not disturb Eivor who was tipping back over the edge into an exhausted sleep. “You are very noisy this morning.”
Big blue eyes blinked up at him, showing no sign of going back to sleep anytime soon. Her little face was still crumpled in distress and so Ivarr scooped her up carefully into his arms and carried her into the other room. Outside of the warmth of their smaller bedroom, the fresh chill of the early morning air cut deep and had Ivarr holding Arvida a little closer to his warmth.
“Wait here a moment.” He said, setting her down on the fur rug in front of the cold fire pit. Arvida’s cries which had stifled a little when he picked her up had feinted back to a noisy wail. “Thor’s hammer, you have a lot to say this morning, don’t you.” Ivarr said as he dressed quickly, trying to keep a running dialogue of nonsense to show the child he was still there and paying attention to her.
He sat back beside her to lace his boots on, and then gathered her and the swaddling blankets back up into his arms.
“There.” He said, nuzzling his nose against her tiny one. “Now, if you promise to behave, we can go for a walk.”
Arvida gurgled, her eyes still wet and threatening.
“That’s good enough.” Ivarr stood with some effort and stepped out of the little house he shared with Eivor, pulling the door shut behind him quietly.
The lazy part of him that had wanted to give in and try putting Arvida down to sleep and crawling back into bed himself quickly dissipated when Ivarr breathed in the frigid morning air. The cold rattling in his lungs shook away the last vestiges of sleep, and Ivarr shuffled Arvida in his arms so she could look around.
“Look up there. There’s many stars. Many of those who came before you, those who now belong to the gods watching over you…” Ivarr looked down at her little face, facets of himself and Eivor shining through even now. His thoughts spiralled as he wondered if he might see the ghosts of others in Arvida as she grew older. If he might see flashes of his mother in a quick smile, or the frown of his father when she was cross. His chest felt tight, thinking of all the possibilities, the multitudes she contained. Just as full of life and promise as the sky was filled with stars.
But her little face was her own for now, too young to show anything but her displeasure at being awake and cold. Only weeks old but plenty demanding as she snuggled closer to Ivarr’s chest for warmth. He huffed in amusement at her lack of interest in his stories as he pointed at a constellation.
“You are a hard one to please, aren’t you. Just like your mother.” Ivarr huffed fondly, carrying Arvida down the path towards the docks. He nodded towards the drengir who were on watch, trying not to feel self-conscious as he walked with the child in his arms. It wasn’t a common sight for fathers to be up with a fussing child, but Ivarr didn’t mind. He wanted Eivor to sleep. She needed the rest more than he did at this point, her body still adjusting to its new normal after having gone through the hardest battle he’d ever seen when she birthed their daughter. Ivarr’s admiration and love for his wife only deepened as he saw the extent of her strength. And in delivering Arvida, he felt that she had given him a gift he never deserved, never even wanted before he married Eivor. An heir. A legacy.
King Killer rang hollow. But Arvida Ivarrsdóttir was the sweetest saga he had ever been part of.
Down by the dock Ivarr tried to engage Arvida in looking at the flowing river, but he could feel that she was cold and cranky and the stares of the drengir were heavy on his back. Before long his feet were leading him up the well-worn path towards the longhouse.
The longhouse was always comforting and warm, no matter the season. The walls held memories of thousands of nights of good meals and laughter. Slipping between the creaking doors, Ivarr was pleased to see the hall was empty but the fires were flickering brightly.
He shifted Arvida into one arm and with the other threw more wood into the fire pit close by. He pulled a chair close and sat down, kicking his feet up and adjusting Arvida to rest comfortably on his lap.
“How’s that, little one?” He asked, nestling her delicate head into the crook of his elbow. He smoothed some of the downy black hair away from her face, marvelling at its softness against his rough and calloused hands. “It’s nice and warm in here.”
Arvida looked at him blankly, those blue eyes studying him with an intensity that reminded him startlingly of his wife.
“I’ve seen that look before, you know.” He teased. “Is your mother teaching you not to listen to me?”
Arvida huffed as he tickled her ribs gently.
“Aye. That is probably a good thing.”
The weight of her in his arms was strange, but even stranger was how quickly he was becoming used to it, attached to it. Part of Ivarr wanted to smother the feelings, the protectiveness and the fear that went hand in hand when he became unbearably conscious of just how fragile she was. Yet Arvida was undoing years of Ivarr’s hardened armour with each tiny little breath she took.
At first he had thought it would be hard to care for someone who could cause him so much hurt if anything was to happen to her. When he first held Arvida, red and bloodied and wailing his heart seized with fear.
How am I supposed to look after you? How am I supposed to keep you safe in this world? It is too much to ask.
He had been paralysed, frozen holding her and unable to think, breathe, move. Then Eivor had leaned her sweat slick forehead against his shoulder, exhausted but joyful. That contact restarted Ivarr’s lungs, breath kicking in his chest and to his horror, tears gathering in his eyes.
He went through the remainder of the birthing rites in a daze, proclaiming the child as his own and thinking long and hard on a suitable name.
Little Arvida, of noble birth. Not only would she inherit the legend of her grandfather Ragnar, but she would be the future jarlskona of Ravensthorpe. Two powerful parents and a whole village to care for her. She would want for nothing.
Ivarr toyed with her little hands and smiled wide when she gripped his index finger tightly. Her eyes were half-lidded and her yawns gave her away but still she fussed. He shifted her to lay against his chest, the rhythm of his breathing and the strong beat of his heart a fine pillow for her.
Ivarr began a string of nonsense in Danish - the language he slipped into with the most ease. He told Arvida broken pieces of nursery rhymes and tales of the gods, scouring his memory for the stories that brought him the most whimsical joy when he was a child. Whatever gaps he had he was sure he could fill by the time she started to actively remember.
The lilting of his voice brought a calm over her face, and along with the warm fire and her father’s arms holding her steady, Arvida’s eyelids finally fell.
Ivarr continued on until he could tell by her milky little breaths that she was definitely asleep and let his voice trail off. The dark corners of the hall lightening to grey in the pre-dawn light. Ivarr stretched his back in his seat and settled in for a while longer, unwilling to disturb this hard-earned peace.
When the sun was just about to burst, Ivarr heard Randvi’s footsteps on the stone floor.
“Good morning.” She greeted him, confused. Although she and Sigurd had long separated, Randvi kept the longhouse bedroom as her own. Eivor had wanted the privacy of her own home especially when she had been expecting their daughter. “You are up early… oh!” She said, the exclamation a breathy little sigh as she spotted the sleeping baby in his arms.
“Randvi.” He nodded in greeting. “Aye, this one has been a gift from Loki some nights.”
Randvi’s eyes were practically sparkling as she approached, cooing over the sight of Arvida.
“She may look sweet now,” Ivarr warned. “Do not let her fool you.”
“Oh stop it.” Randvi said with a grin. “Did you want me to take her? Let you get ready for the day?”
A strange feeling sparked in Ivarr’s hands and he shifted slightly, curling protectively over Arvida.
“Thank you, but we are alright.” He waved Randvi off, stunned at himself for the strange jealousy he felt at the idea of letting her take his daughter from him. Even though he was a man, he didn’t find looking after Arvida tiresome or a chore as he knew some of his fellow drengir did.
But it seemed many others thought he should. He waved off no less than three others with the same request - the women of Ravensthorpe coming into to prepare breakfast and speak to Randvi. Uncomfortable with the attention, Ivarr stood and stretched his aching legs, carrying the sleeping Arvida carefully back to the house and praying to Freja that the weak morning sunlight wouldn’t wake her.
He closed the front door quietly behind him, letting out a long tense breath when he heard Eivor call for him.
“Where have you been?” She asked, her legs swung over the edge of the bed and her voice still croaky with sleep. “I didn’t realise you had left. I was going to come looking for you.”
Ivarr recognised the maternal concern in her voice and came to her side, letting her run her eyes over their sleeping child to reassure her.
“I just took her up to the longhouse to sit by the fire. She’s going to be a good, obedient daughter you know. Went straight to sleep when I asked her nicely.”
Eivor laughed softly at his playful fib, stroking a finger down Arvida’s fat cheek before letting Ivarr lay her down in the bassinet.
He joined Eivor, sitting on the edge of the bed with her while she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and he kicked his boots away.
"She was alright though?" Eivor asked. She was a vision, her hair unbound and overdue for a wash. Her sleeping shirt dishevelled and milk-stained. Her face showing the signs of exhaustion but beneath it all, an unshakable happiness pouring through.
"She is perfect."
Ivarr pulled his wife down to lay beside him, ignoring her protests that it would be harder to get up again.
"Just for a little while." He murmured, the last few hours of being awake catching up to him. The sunlight was still dim enough to inspire more sleep and he pulled Eivor close, wanting to share this little moment of peace with her. Eivor pressed a kiss to his forehead and together they napped for a bit until she grew restless with the sounds of the day outside.
"I should go."
Ivarr's hand on her hip tightened possessively and she indulged him a moment longer before wiggling away.
"Alright." Ivarr said, rolling onto his back and trying to find a scrap of will to get up as well.
"No, stay. Sleep while she is sleeping."
Ivarr's eyes tracked Eivor as she stood and stretched, peeking into the bassinet and watching their daughter for a long, sweet moment.
"Well. I suppose you should go. You do need a bath pretty badly." He teased, startling when she pinched his leg through the furs in retaliation.
"You are not wrong." Eivor conceded with a laugh. "Will you sleep a bit longer? Bring Arvida up to the longhouse when she wakes, she will be due for feeding."
"I will." Ivarr was surprised by the strength of the pull he felt to go back to sleep. It was not often he felt as exhausted as this and he would be grateful for a few more hours before Arvida woke again.
Eivor dressed and came back to check Arvida once more before sitting at Ivarr's side. He pulled her close for a sleepy kiss, enjoying the milky warm smell of her before she went to the pond to bathe.
"I will see you soon." She said against his lips, before standing and departing quietly.
Ivarr rolled onto his side so the bassinet was in his line of vision, and let the waves of sleep pull him back under, a content smile upon his face.