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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The sunlight peaked over the distant hills. The water sparkled, gentle waves rolling back and forth. Ailbe sat with a daisy in her hand, gently looping the stem through another to make a daisy chain.
Her heart almost stopped when she heard the sound of Ivar's crutch on the ground. She hadn't thought of what to say to him yet. It was likely a sensitive subject and she didn't wish to make him angry. But still, she had to know.
"Ivar." She spoke quietly. The happy bounce in her voice was almost entirely gone.
At this, his face dropped. Something was wrong, he could tell, and it made fear race through his veins. "Ailbe?" He asked when he got closer, dread written on all his features. "What's wrong?"
She didn't answer for a moment, so he sat beside her. Slowly, she reached out and placed her hand in his, a look of fear moving onto her features. Was she afraid of him? Just the thought made his stomach turn. "I trust you, Ivar." She told him gently. That could not be a good start to a sentence. "And I think that you are one of the kindest people I have ever known, even if you try to hide it." She continued. "But I keep hearing this same name repeated over and over again. And Hvitserk wouldn't tell me who it was, but it sounded like he blamed you for whatever happened. No matter what happened, I don't think my opinions of you could ever change. But I need to know."
"What name?" He asked apprehensively, already knowing the answer to his question before he had even said it. He'd been terrified of this moment.
"Sigurd." She answered abruptly, like a final nail in the coffin.
Ivar took a moment to think things through. If this were anyone else, he'd lash out. Perhaps he'd even kill them if they persisted. But this wasn't anyone else. It was Ailbe. And she was the only person in this damn world that made him feel like he could be more than that. That he didn't have to be so angry all the time. That maybe, just maybe, he could know what it was like to love and to be happy. "Sigurd was my brother." He began, a little dejectedly. He knew that she would leave now, that she would think he was a monster. "All my life I think he hated me. He'd make fun of my legs and try to make me angry. When we were in England, he did it in front of everyone." He could feel his pain building at the memory, and as if on cue, Ailbe gently lent over and kissed his cheek as if urging him on. "He said that I wasn't really a man, he talked about my mother and I just- I just couldn't stop myself. Before I even knew what I'd done, there was an axe in his chest."
Ailbe didn't look horrified as he had predicted. She didn't move away or get angry. Instead, there was a look of pure concern on her face. "Oh Ivar," She spoke sympathetically, her hand still in his. "That is not your fault."
"I killed him." He corrected flatly.
"But did you want him dead?" She asked him. "Did you wish you could take it all back the moment the axe hit him?"
He didn't answer, but he didn't need to. They both knew that she was right. Ailbe lent up, kissing him so very softly. The only person that she had ever felt this way about was Ivar. It was so strange that they were both so different. And yet, deep down, she knew that they were both the same. Somewhere behind all his anger and arrogance and solitude, all Ivar The Boneless really wanted was to be loved.
When she pulled away, she rested her head against his. "Ivar," She began. "You are not the things that you have done, or the things that have been done to you. You are a good person, I can see that even if I can't see anything else. And-" She stopped not sure if she should say what she was thinking. It was all so sudden and she knew that, but she couldn't help feeling what she felt.
"And what?" He asked expectantly.
Ailbe took a deep breath, gulping back the fear that rose in her chest. "I love you."
The whole world seemed to stop moving in that moment. She loved him? She actually loved him? Ivar couldn't believe what he was hearing, and yet it was real. He moved his hand to the side of her cheek, a small smile making it's way onto his face as he looked at her.
