When Ivar meets a girl with flaming red hair and eyes that cannot see, he begins to wonder how a sightless girl can see so much beauty in the world... And in him.
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By night fall, the feast had begun. Upon her mother's request, Ailbe had worn one of her nicer dresses but her hair was tied up atop her head to keep from getting in her eyes when she nervously attempted to dance.
She walked over to the table where the two Ragnarssons and some of the more prominent figures in her community were seated. The minute the two Vikings set eyes on her, they were taken aback. She looked beautiful, and the crimson blush on her cheeks only added to her attractiveness. If Ivar hadn't known better, he would've sworn that she was Freyja herself.
With a nervous smile, she gave her best curtsey, tripping and falling ever so slightly, and stood tall again as she'd practiced on the hillside. She smiled a little, proud at her progress, and Ivar couldn't help but chuckle at her attempt. When he'd seen her on that hillside before, she fell a lot more than she had just done but still her little stumble made him smile. He wasn't even so much laughing at her, there was just something so endearing about the action. She took a seat beside her mother, opposite the two Vikings, and gently tucked her hair behind her ear.
"Kveðja." She greeted them in their own language, only adding to their surprise. She hoped she'd said it right as she'd spent all day pestering some of their warriors to teach her how to say some phrases in their language. In the end, she had to pay them with a kiss, which she supposed could have been worse and so agreed - though the man who kissed her seemed all too eager. The memory made her blush more. It had been her first kiss and although it wasn't how she imagined - with someone she loved and adored - it was worth it. She'd done it all in the simple hope of impressing Ivar.
"Dia dhuit." Ivar answered, this time greeting her in her language. Though Ivar hadn't had to promise a kiss to someone to learn, he'd simply threatened someone until they taught him. He found people were often easier to deal with when they had a knife pressed to their throat.
Ailbe beamed back at him, a smile so bright that it could replace the sun. And that was exactly what Ivar was aiming for when he'd learned her language.
"You speak our language!" Ailbe cheered.
"A little." The king answered. "You speak ours?"
"A little." She smiled back.
That night, her mother had announced plans to raid England with the Vikings and stated that our warriors would be under the rule of Ivar. Though Ailbe despised war, she knew that her love of helping others outshone her hatred of violence. And so, she announced that she would leave with them as their healer. They departed in a week, and she knew that this may very well be the last time she could get the chance to travel to new places.
"You cannot leave with them!" Her mother muttered so that only the two of them could hear. "You'll be a nuisance on a voyage. They have no use for a blind girl, Ailbe."
"But they have use for a healer, and I am a good one." She defended.
"And if you're attacked? What then? You'll die!" Her mother pleaded.
Ailbe gave a determined smile, her eyes filled with passion. "If I die I die." She answered. "At least I will die doing all that I can for my people. Besides, what would you care if I died anyway?" Her words were perhaps a little louder than she had intended, and her features were filled with an anger that she had never before felt. But when she heard her own words, her face fell. She couldn't believe that she had said something like that. Quickly, she stood and excused herself, running back to her room quietly.
She spent about an hour in her room, listening to the feast continue outside as she desperately tried to remind herself of her usually demeanor. The truth was, she was sick of being told what to do by her mother. She was sick of just being the blind girl. She wanted more. She needed more.
She lay back on her bed, red curls falling around her cheeks. Her mind travelled back through her life, contemplating every moment of it.
It all would've been far easier if she cared just a little less. If she'd found that ruthless streak within her. But she never did. Even now she found herself tearing herself apart for merely implying that her mother didn't care, despite her mother almost telling her that many times previously! It was ridiculous that she caused herself so much pain over people who cared not for her or her wellbeing. And yet, she couldn't help it. She lived and died for her people, and that would never change. In fact, she lived and died for all people.
A knock on her door made her jolt up, face contorting into a look of confusion. "Hello?"
The door creaked open slightly, and Ivar's crutch was the first thing Ailbe heard. He didn't bother asking if he could come in, but was quick to close the door behind him.
Again, Ailbe waited expectantly, wondering what on earth he was doing. That was, until, she heard a small bark come from behind him and the furry creature poked it's head out from behind his useless legs. For a minute, he simply acted as though the bark never happened but the dog refused to be quiet and bounded over to the curly haired woman, jumping up onto her.
She laughed loudly, sounds of her happiness filling the once stale room. He'd seen her leave, with such pain written over her face. And that's when the idea had formed in his mind. He'd never much liked being told what to do anyway, so her mother's rules wouldn't stop him from bringing the animal inside.
"Hello." She beamed at the dog, ruffling it's fur. "How did you get him in?"
Ivar shrugged nonchalantly. "They were too busy to notice."
Though Ivar tried to play it cool, to Ailbe this was the kindest gesture she'd received in years. She did everything for everyone... But no one ever thought about her. No one.
In a sudden movement, she jumped up off the bed and embraced the King. For a moment, he stumbled back on his crutch and froze in place as though he wasn't used to this kind of contact. But after a short time, his free arm slowly wrapped around her as well.
"þǫkk, Ivar." She thanked him quietly in his language. But he didn't answer, he simply held her close as she hugged him not daring to let go.
HAVE ANOTHER CHAPTER BECAUSE I HAVE NO SELF CONTROLLLLLKKJDJIWIEKDJEJKEKSSKSJEKEJ Love y'all -Rhi
