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 waves rolled in over the Sandy beeches as Ailbe listened to the flutter of bird's wings and the whistle of the wind. A mist had rolled in, blinding many of the villagers. She used that to her advantage, and sneaked out onto the hills.
"Ailbe," The voice of another girl from her town, Clodagh, sounded out. Clodagh was popular, everyone loved her. And, while Ailbe had tried her hardest to befriend her, the other girl simply found her more favorable as a victim than as a friend. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Clodagh..." The younger girl spoke warily.
"I just wanted to say sorry." The girl took a seat beside her victim, watching as her useless eyes tried to find her. "I haven't been very nice to you over the last year, but I hope we can still be friends."
A glint of hope lit up in Ailbe's broken eyes, her optimistic view of people blinding her from the truth of the situation. "Do you mean it?" She asked happily, standing up in excitement.
In an instant, a group of Cloudagh's friends began laughing hysterically. They hadn't even needed to hide, as Ailbe couldn't see them anyway. "Of course not." Clodagh answered bitterly, shoving the red-head over.
She hadn't intended to push her over the edge of the small cliff face. And even though it was a small drop, all the girls were quite certain the Ailbe must've been dead.
Her mother called out a search party after hours, desperate to find out what had happened to her daughter. When they found her, she told them that she'd fallen. Although she was confined to her room for months, she didn't wish to cause trouble for the girls who'd tormented her. She couldn't. Because even though they had been cruel and spiteful to her, she couldn't find it within herself to do the same. There was no bone of malice or drop of hate in her body, and none of her wished for revenge. She simply wished to be alone, as it seemed people were not as good as she had always hoped.
"You're awake?" Ivar's voice jolted her from her memories, making a smile creep up onto her face.
"So are you." She answered cheerily, as she listened to him crawl over to her.
"What were you thinking about?" He asked curiously, watching the little tears roll down her cheeks as she tried to brush them away.
"My home." She answered. "Or the place I'm from, I guess."
"You don't think it's your home?" He spoke again, half knowing how she felt without needing her to answer. He'd felt the same once. Sometimes he still did.
"It's weird to me," She began with a sad smile. "That all my life it's been the same. I've always been different, broken, unwanted. Because I can't see, people will always treat me like I'm less than everyone else." She continued with fresh tears in her eyes. "But I always thought that one day I'd find my place, that I'd meet people who didn't treat me like that. Everyone always said that Vikings were scary and evil... But I don't know, I guess no one ever made me feel normal but somehow out here with people I barely know, I feel more normal than I ever did at home."
Ivar looked at the girl, tears now streaming down her cheeks, and he wasn't really sure how to approach the situation. He'd never particularly been the most sensitive of people, and yet he didn't want to just leave her like this. "My father once told me that my legs were what made me special..." He tried, looking over at her in the dim moonlight to try and focus on her reaction. "And maybe it's your eyes that make you special too."
"You think I'm special?" She asked with the hints of a smile tugging up on her lips.
Ivar seemed a little lost for words for a moment, not really sure if he should tell her every thought that was going through his mind. She was special, from the way she lit up every room to the way she found beauty in even the darkest moments. At a time where he thought he was cold and broken, she made him experience something that he wasn't sure he'd ever even felt before. Despite all the thoughts running through his mind, only one word escaped him, "Yes."
Ailbe had already stopped crying, but when she heard something so simple as 'yes' she felt her heart skip a beat. She smiled, leaning closer to gently kiss his cheek before she moved away with a crimson blush plastered over her cheeks. "I think you're special too." She whispered shyly.
Before he could stop himself, Ivar had entwined his hand with hers, only making her smile grow further. Ailbe enjoyed the moment, gently resting her head on his shoulder with a yawn.
"I did tell you you were nice." She sighed softly.
"You're the only person that thinks that." He chuckled.
"That doesn't mean it's not true." She answered finally.
