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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Ailbe crouched behind the tall rocks, trying her hardest to blend into the shrubbery. She'd always found it hard to hide, never really knowing who could see her and how visible she was. That being said, she knew her surroundings well and hoped with all her heart that no one could see her until she wanted to be seen.
"This is the last time you're navigating." Ivar sighed, completely unamused by their present situation. Of course Hvitserk had got them lost. Of course Hvitserk had spent months withering on about how he wasn't treated equally and deserved more responsibilities... And then got them all lost.
That was all becoming painfully clear as the arrived somewhere that most definitely was not York.
"Maybe if you weren't complaining all the time, the crew would actually know where they were rowing!" Hvitserk argued.
"I was not the one complaining that they never got to lead. Well done brother, you led us to the middle of nowhere." His younger brother persisted in his mockery nevertheless.
However, before Hvitserk could begin to interject again, it seemed that he was stopped by the sharp sound of a stick breaking beneath someone's foot.
Ailbe froze, her crimson hair and pale face peaking ever so slightly from behind the rocks as she jumped at her own sound. Just as Hvitserk stepped forward towards the girl, his brother stopped him once again with a hand against his chest. The other hand slowly lifted in a shushing motion as the raven haired King watched the vacant look in the young Celt's eyes.
"Well, I suppose we'll just have to raid here." Ivar spoke much louder this time, ensuring that the girl could bear with a wicked grin. Instantly, Ailbe understand the new language that he spoke. As, he had not chosen to speak his own... But rather that of the Saxons.
In her village, all the children were made to learn the language of those Christians and their faith! It was a language she associated with violence and brutality... And now they must have finally returned.
"Perhaps we will kill their leader, keep the rest as slaves." Of course, Ivar had no intention of doing anything of the sort. There was nowhere near enough room on the boat for so many slaves. Even so, his eyes were fixed on the girl who cowered behind distant rocks listening to them. More specifically, he was fixated on her own line of vision. Perhaps he was mistaken, but he seemed to find no recognition of her surroundings within the girl's eyes. Of course, Hvitserk had not noticed this. He simply saw a pretty girl listening to their conversation in fear.
"Fan!" She called out, jumping up from behind the rocks with hands held high, stumbling slightly as she ran forwards. "Le do thoil!"
The brothers both exchanged glances, as if asking eachother what kind of strange language this girl was speaking. "Who are you?" Hvitserk spoke up in English, ignoring his brother as he looked over towards the girl.
Ailbe gulped, trying to find the source of the sound to look him in the eyes as though she were not blind. Of course, this action did not go unnoticed by Ivar the Boneless. Little did. "My name is Ailbe, daughter of the chief." She answered. "Please, why have nothing here for you to take. The Saxons already took everything."
"The Saxons?" Hvitserk spoke again, while Ivar watched their interaction with mild intrigue.
"Yes, the Christian men. They attack us most years. Though it was been many summers since we saw them, we still have nothing to offer." She explained calmly. Perhaps if she had known at the time who she was speaking with she would not have been so calm. But then again, it was likely that her compassion would have overruled any preconceptions that followed the name 'Ivar The Boneless'. "Le do thoil, we will help with all you need but do not attack my people."
"You're in charge?" Ivar spoke finally, making the girl awkwardly try to shift her gaze over to him. She never made eye contact. Not once.
Ailbe shifted uncomfortably. She could feel him watching her even without her sight. "Who would let a blind girl lead?" She answered without malice but with a certain distaste as she said the word 'blind'. Oh how Ivar recalled that distaste. He held it on his tongue whenever the word 'cripple' exited his lips. "Who are you people?"
"I am Hvitserk." Hvitserk spoke again before his brother. It seemed Ivar was in all a world of his own as he watched this girl. It almost made Hvitserk smile. Almost. After all, it was still Ivar. "This is my brother, King Ivar."
"Ivar?" She questioned, brows furrowing as she recalled the name. "You're northmen?" Before either man could confirm or deny her conclusion, a wide smile grew over the girl's face. "Then you are all welcome here."
Her people certainly hated the Saxons. Perhaps meeting those who subdued the Christians as they had subdued her own kind would bring far more peace and joy to her people than she had previously thought. Of course she'd heard of these men, who hadn't? They were sons of Ragnar Lothbrok, and they had defeated many Saxon armies and kings. They had brought justice, even if that was not their intention, for the wrongdoing done to her people.
Hvitserk looked at his brother expectantly, as though waiting for him to begin the mass slaughter that he waited for so expectantly. But there was no raise of axes or cry for war. Instead, his crutch edged forwards as he dragged his useless legs behind him watching the girl every step of the way.
"What are you doing?" Hvitserk muttered beneath his breath to his brother.
Ivar gave a fake smile, looking back at him, "Finding out where we are." He shrugged as though the answer was obvious.
