Re: Camp: Lagertha/Ragnar
"You are still you," he reiterated. When he had been in the healer in the - city - of bright lights, he had not been within his own skin, but he was still himself, his mind separate from Jack's. It was easier for him to understand being in a different body while still retaining his mind, his language, his skills, all the things that made him except for a body marred by scars and thick with muscles that worked the earth.
And he might have explained further, but she was closer, the closest she'd been since they had fought in the dirt. It wasn't anger now that marred her features, but that tightness in her forehead came from something else. He had seen that same look on her face when she knew of his intentions to fight Earl Haraldson before he had fully healed. There had been no better time to challenge him and Ragnar had to trust in the gods that he would succeed, that his body would not fail until he had done their will. Such faith came easily to him.
It always brought its rewards. Like this, with her heat against the side of his body. It was not an invitation for more and he knew it, no matter how much he longed for more, but he would take this. His arm turned out, extended around her back until his hand fit into the curve of her waist. Nothing more, except for the tuck of his head, his nose and lips in her hair. He breathed in deep. Remembered. He had no memories of another wife or other children besides the ones that she had brought into their world.
And in the long, lonely nights before he had found her again, it was her he asked the god for. Her return. If they saw fit to bring her back differently, as they had, then there was a reason for that. Just as there was a reason for what they had showed her in that other world. "What form you are in does not matter; you are still you. And you are Lagertha," said as he leaned back slightly so his face was no longer pressed so close to her hair.