As much as this felt like a dream, Ragnar made a firm decision to not treat it as such. Not when he'd literally just mourned the loss of her back on the beach of their village. Not when he'd held in hand what ashes remained of hers in the sand where she was cremated. However this would end, whether by him waking, or by her physical form dissipating into nothing, going back to where she is supposed to be.

Her voice is one he concentrates on and his cheek presses against the side of her hair. Emotion overwhelms him all over again and Ragnar can't believe he has his daughter back again. But the new voice that approached them gets a look that shows in the vikings eyes what he would do to them if they came even a foot closer. Both arms envelope Gyda protectively.

Ragnar can't understand, but there's a tone and the way the other looks at Gyda with concern that keeps him from snapping whatever arm came towards them.

"We need water. Now." Ragnar says firmly. "My daughter is sick and needs it."

Obviously, there was going to be some trouble communicating given Ragnar spoke in Old Norse. When he was stared at, the greeter clearly confused and unsure what he was saying, the viking tried the Old English he'd learned through Athelstan.

"Water!"