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 Daisy~Dreamers, Sigurd <3

Njord Vikernes


It took two to summon the thunder, one to bring down the rain


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Apr 17 2017, 01:09 PM   LINK Quote
It was surprisingly easy to claim a child no one had ever heard of or wanted back - but maybe, it was only easy because it was Njord who had found the baby a few months ago, draped in her little cosy blanket and on the edge of death. How often did fate show him a path in life he wanted to follow? The gift of seeing was nothing the young man had ever asked for, yet it was haunting him - and instead of gaining more control over the visions than he had been having as a teenager in his last year at Hogwarts, he felt everything slipping out of his fingers, like sand or dry earth. Synnøve made everything just a little better - she anchored Njord in the reality and gave him an occupation outside the Department of Mysteries and those few tasks he was fulfilling for the Viridian Guild. In the beginning, he had shown more enthusiasm for the faction that was searching for a cure for all diseases, no matter for which prize. Yet he slowly felt the doubts rising in his chest, and it displayed in the dreams that could easily mistaken for visions, just like a vision could easily be nothing but a dream. Njord’s distress had been growing ever since he watched his family being taken to Azkaban for their illegal doings, because they had ignored his pressing warnings. He had been floating through life until he had found the baby beside a trash can and made her his life purpose.

The beginning had been hard. He had spent many hours at St. Mungo’s, even after his initial visit at Serenity’s office, where the witch had made sure Synnøve was fine. But the tiny baby girl screaming at night because she was neither hungry, nor thirsty, nor in pain had troubled him, and no amount of research - be it on the internet which turned out to be a constant struggle for the pureblooded wizard or in libraries where whole sections were filled with books about taking care of children and babies. Njord was trying, but even a man like a God sometimes met his own boundaries - and today, said boundaries had shown in the fact that the baby had stuffed one of the daisies he had placed in a pot on his windowsill in her mouth while he had been cradling her in his arms, humming a children’s song he vaguely remembered his mother singing while heating up the porridge he had cooked for the baby earlier.

Whenever he had the time, Njord prepared fresh food for Synnøve, refusing to buy the pre-made porridge and puree stuffed in glasses. Who knew what was inside? Not him, that much was for sure. But it had only been a second of not paying attention when the daisy disappeared between those small, pink lips, and the baby girl had laughed in his face when he sat her on the kitchen counter, carefully trying to make her spit it out while petting her head. She had refused to do so, just gurgling and batting her lashes at the young man who had ran his hand through his hair in exasperation before making a quick decision - even though it meant crossing paths with someone who might not want to see him.

He chose to go by apparation, quickly dressing Synnøve in a tiny cardigan, with a tiny woolen hat on her head that reached her eyebrows, her warm eyes looking even bigger like this. Njord pressed her tightly against her chest, apparating straight in front of the information desk where the witch currently in charge already rolled her eyes at him - she was often here when the tall Norwegian came to visit. “Miss Gong?” she already asked, reaching for her wand. “No, Potions and Plant Poisoning this time - could you inform Mister Nilsson, please?” The young witched raised a brow at him but nodded, quickly offering a room number and a floor before Njord walked off, the happily chortling baby in his arms as he walked towards where he had been directed. Even the sterile scent of St. Mungo’s was familiar by now - which might mean he had spent too much time here already, but he was rather safe than sorry.

Njord was not sure how his younger cousin was going to react to the sudden visit. They had never gotten along well, and it seemed like Sigurd had little compassion for the older young man, no matter what had happened to his family - to their families, in the end. The fact that they were parts of different factions was not what bothered Njord - in fact, he was often considering to simply switch, as even under Gretchen’s and Larsson’s command, the Viridian Guild was not quite what he had imagined for himself. Yet in this very moment, neither his personal feelings nor the war mattered, because he needed to knock and outline the issue to Sigurd whom he trusted enough to save Synnøve from a death by daisy.

@Sigurd Nilsson

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Sigurd Nilsson


I keep a close watch on this heart of mine


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Today at 09:42 am   LINK Quote
He'd forgotten how busy the midday shift was.

Not that the morning shift wasn't. In fact there were an awful lot of people with bad brains who decided that brewing potions at five in the morning was an utmost excellent idea. Patients always streamed in, and the newly vacant beds were easily filled up again as if nothing had ever changed. New faces, same issues. The biggest difference was how rowdy people were later in the day. Sigurd found himself in situations where it was hard to keep up with the big poofy clouds of Awake and Alert, rather than the sluggish states of Annoyance and Pain in the earliest hours of the day. No amount of coffee was ever going to change that. During his morning and night shifts it was easy to lull people back into relative calmness in order for them to remember that the early hours were meant for sleeping. All he had to do was concentrate and make the anxious feelings ebb away. During the day it was different: relaxed people became talkative, prone to happy conversations once their worries were resolved by a flick of empathy they didn't even know was there.

He didn't have time for that.

By two pm Sigurd found himself in one of the smaller rooms completely void of people, headache already announcing itself by precisely timed dull knocks against his skull. The room was mostly vacant: white walls, white table with a crappy chair that, when moving, felt like it was summoning ancient spirits with its horrendous shrieking on the tile floor. Most of the cupboards were pretty vacant besides the one or two stray boxes of stale cookies everybody had refused to take during collective mealtimes. The only reason why the healer found himself here of all places was because it actually contained one of the only coffee makers in the building. He wasn't sure which muggleborn college had brought it in, or how old it was exactly - there was something about how it whirred like a drowning kelpie when boiling water that made Sig question its whereabouts, but he surely didn't care. It was the best invention muggles had ever brought to this earth, and here it was, at St. Mungo's, at everyone's disposal.

It was sufficient to say it had been a lifesaver on multiple occasions.

The cupboard's edge was digging into his back through the fabric of his healer robes as he leaned against it, fingers curling around the coffee mug like ivy. Not many people came here. There was a busier staff room further up the hall, closer to the Spell Damage department. As if Sigurd minded; they could all chat up and be rowdy all they wanted over there, as long as they would all leave him alone. There was still some leftover feelings of Bitterness clinging to him like a desperate kitten from his last patient, and with each sip of his coffee he could feel the warm equally bitter flavour replace all of the heavy emotions. Each muscle in his body preferred the caffeine more than someone else's feelings after getting hurt. It wasn't a hard decision.

What did end up being a difficult decision was actually getting back to work. His dull eyes stared at the spotless door in front of him over the brim of his mug, judging it like a mortal enemy that stood between him and happiness. Just a few more hours. A few more hours before he could go home and wrap himself into too many blankets while judging reality tv together with Florentin, dinner unceremonially placed on their laps. Fingers held onto the ceramic more tightly as the Norwegian savoured the last bits of coffee before the world outside of his sanctuary needed attention once more. Carefully his right hand pushed himself away from the cupboard, and his legs immediately protested against his full weight being theirs to carry once more.

It was going to be a dull day.

Sigurd ignored the screaming in his legs in favour of 4 more hours of standing work ahead of him, and casually cleaned the now empty mug with a quick flick of his wand. The silence of the room was enjoyed for a few more seconds, the low rumble of voices on the other end of the door felt like the dreading end of the world. With a big deep breath and a too loud sigh afterwards, Sigurd pushed down onto the door handle only to find himself face to face with Njord Vikernes. The Norwegian frowned at his cousin; something that felt more like a gut reaction upon seeing his family member rather than something appropriate for the current situation. It took him a second to notice the child in his arm, or what was left of her at least. She looked like she was on her way of moving in with the fabric people any time now, and was doing a magnificent job of blending in. Only then his eyes dared to dart back to Njord, already seeing the waves of Worry hug him like a mother caring for her sick child. His headache insisted it had become more urgent at this current sight, and started banging just a bit louder.

Another sigh. This was going to be a dull day indeed.

"Do you want me to.....get Serenity?" He asked with annoyance lacing itself between each letter of his words, hands disappearing into the pockets of his robes to mimic the warmth of his coffee that he was missing already.

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@Njord Vikernes

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I'LL BE A STONE, I'LL BE THE HUNTER
A TOWER THAT CASTS A SHADE



staff!edit: Tine says Sammeh is the best Cookie Slytherin around <33

Njord Vikernes


It took two to summon the thunder, one to bring down the rain


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Today at 02:12 pm   LINK Quote
Comment approved by Sammeh <3

The relationship to his cousins had always been strained, and it had not changed once they all had graduated and chosen different paths in life. For him, it had been the Department of Mysteries and the Viridian Guild - for Sigurd, it had been St. Mungo’s, and before that a career as obliviator. Njord assumed that they both were informed of what had happened to their respective parents - death, and in Njord’s case a lifetime in Azkaban - but even such cutting events had not made them grow any closer than they used to be. Especially since the former badger took care of the baby girl in his arms, he often wished that there was a chance for his family to be closer, to give each other the support he needed - and not only when he was more a patient than someone tied to Sigurd by the blood in their veins. Njord had given up on searching for an ideal family constellation the moment he had watched his parents and his brother being escorted out of their mansion, but even then he had sometimes wished that someone would have waited for him outside the interrogation rooms of the Ministry of Magic, someone who told him that everything would be alright.

In the end, it had become alright without the reassurance of anyone, and yet he was walking through sterile and busy hallways with a baby in his arms that did not look sickly at all. In fact, Synnøve was calmly babbling to herself, her hands on Njord’s shoulder, patting him every now and then as if to enhance the meaning of whatever she was telling him in this very moment. He wished he could understand what the little girl had to say, but on most days it was enough to listen to the sounds of delight she made to know that he was not failing at this impromptu adventure called parenthood. He did not have to wait too long before the door opened and his sunlight-filled gaze fell onto his younger and much smaller cousin who looked tired, immediately making the Norwegian regret this decision. But if he had to make a choice, he preferred a disgruntled Sigurd over a dead Synnøve, therefore he was going to take all the risks. The question threw him off guard for a moment, frown imitated without him noticing it. Not that he had expected a polite greeting from Sigurd, yet he was already the second person greeting him with the question if he would rather talk to Serenity. Gods.

“No, I asked for you. Downstairs, you know. And hello, good to see you,” Njord stated with a small smile, so at least one of them was keeping up the pretence of being well-mannered young men. The taller Nilsson offspring had always been having his doubts about the former Slytherin, but he had never stated them out loud and had tried to meet him with love and politeness. It had not done him any good, not even now. Synnøve knew little about the thoughts of her dad, and she turned her head, huge eyes staring at the healer before she squealed and leaned in, tiny hands with chubby fingers reaching out for him. Njord raised a brow in surprise, but he was not pulling her away either. Instead, he took a step forward, offering Sigurd the possibility of giving in to the child’s grabby hands if he wanted to. The faint scent of coffee came from the room behind his cousin and tickled his nose, and for a moment he inhaled calmly before he chose to describe the situation to the healer.

Clearing his throat, he began. “This morning - no, it was before noon - I was preparing Synni’s lunch, and while he was trying to make sure that the porridge was cold enough for her to eat - which takes a while, their tongues are so much more sensitive than ours, your know-” ”Get to the point.” For a moment, Njord stared at his cousin, eyes narrowing. But he could not blame him after what looked like it had been a busy shift, right? Sighing, the hand that was not holding onto the baby was raised for a moment. “She ate a daisy while I was not looking and refused to spit it out again. Could you please have a look at her? I am sorry to bother you because you do look tired, but I am very worried.” Despite his worry for Synnøve, there was also the deeply rooted concern for a member of his family, no matter how much their paths had strayed apart. If he would be talking to Sigurd more often, he would tell him to take it slow, to give himself some well-deserved breaks longer than the endurance of a cup of coffee. But he knew he had no part in the young man’s life, and that in this moment, he was only here because he could not allow any harm to happen to the precious girl he had adopted.

@Sigurd Nilsson

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