Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Ailbe?" Ivar peered in with confusion, listening as his wife walked around the room talking to herself in a language that he couldn't understand. The young Celt paused, head lifting at Ivar's voice, and she turned slowly realising that she likely sounded insane. Still, she didn't talk. She stayed silent and stared at him, not even sure what to say. Where should she even begin?
"You're going to die." She let out bluntly, only realising how threatening that sounded when her mind caught up with her words.
Ivar looked at her flatly. "Hello to you too."
"If you go," She continued, a terror in her eyes at the very thought of losing him. At the thought of losing everything in her life that mattered all over again. "You won't come back."
"Then that is what the Gods want, and I will see you again one day." He shrugged casually, not in the least concerned.
In a rare moment of anger, Ailbe threw a cup at him - which he narrowly missed - and pointed towards their sleeping children. "You would leave them?" She fumed. "Leave them to grow up with out a father as you did? It's not just yourself that you have to worry about now, Ivar!"
For a moment, he was silent. He knew she was right, and if what she had told him was true then she would not remain here much longer either. He didn't want to lose her, and he didn't want them to grow up as orphans. But it was fate. And everything seemed to pull in the same direction. Even though they had become the very centre of his world, how could he go against the will of the gods? Nothing could stop what was coming, and deep down they both knew that.
"Let me go." She pleaded. "You stay here, I'll make sure Corrin doesn't betray you, I'll-"
"And let you die instead?" He scoffed as though it was the most ridiculous suggestion in the world. "I don't think so."
"Oh for Odin's sake Ivar, would you just listen for once in your damn life!" She yelled back, making Floki stir before falling back to sleep. As her uncharacteristic anger calmed down, her eyes grew glassy and her vision blurred. She felt the grief so heavily, her chest tightening and her stomach churning. She felt ill, and the tears flooded her cheeks as she attempted to hold them back. "I can't- you can't leave me."
Just one simple sentence, and yet it was filled with so much raw emotion. As a boy, Ivar had watched all his brothers take whichever girl they wanted. He'd seen them grow up, love, and everyone wanted them. But who would ever want him? Who would want the crippled son? He thought that when he became King, perhaps things would be different. Maybe some woman would want him. But the way he was loved now, the way he loved in return, was something that even his brothers would never know. It was a love like no other. Not because he was King. Not because of any power or glory that he had. But because of him. She loved him. And something so valuable was irreplaceable in his eyes. She was fate. And she had his heart entirely.
Slowly, he moved his crutch forward dragging his legs behind. His free arm wrapped around the young woman, holding her and assuring her that she would be safe. As she cried in his chest, holding onto him as though he was the entire world - which for her, he was - he spoke again softly. "Then come with me."
Her eyes lifted. "With Corrin?" She asked, slightly shocked.
"Hvitserk will look after the children and Kattegat while we're gone, and you will look after me as always." He smiled wiping away a final stray tear from her cheek. "I likely would've been dead many times over already if it wasn't for you, so I think I'll be in good hands."
"Together." She smiled, holding onto his hand.
"Together." He answered.
But as Ailbe left to check on the children, her long red curls swaying with each step, Ivar's thoughts were nothing close to his words. What was important now was keeping her safe. And, even if she hated him for the rest of her life, he'd be happy in Valhalla knowing that he did something, anything, to protect her. And if she moved on, lived another life without him, he'd be glad knowing that she was safe and happy.
Once, even when he'd first known her, he would've been jealous beyond anything to know that she had moved on in her life. It was them, and no one else. But love is selfless, love is giving, and love is sacrifice. That was something he wished that he'd understood when he'd lost her the first time. But he wouldn't make the same mistake again.
