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 had not left her bed in days. Of course, Ivar had tried to remain with her when he could, but he was often busy being King. And although Ailbe loathed being trapped, and wanted nothing more than to leave her small bed and explore again, something deep within her stopped her.
She couldn't leave. Fear had overcome her. She knew that she shouldn't be afraid, that there was really nothing to be afraid about, but she was simply terrified of everything. Even the sweet singing of birds made her blood run cold.
Everything she once loved now filled her with dread. And it was all because of him. That damn Saxon.
Ailbe, of course, had no idea the pain that the King had been enduring. Though Ivar had told her he was now suffering, she didn't dare ask to what extent. Sometimes she could hear his distant screams in the night, and the laughter of her lover in response. It sent chills up her spine - but not in the way she would've previously assumed. As a gentle soul, she loathed violence and suffering, but this was different. Something within her called to hear his misery. It was something that she'd never felt before, something that her own suffering had awoken within her. Or perhaps it had nothing to do with her suffering at all. Perhaps it was a fire that Ivar had nurtured. Either way it was there.
Ailbe could feel the demons of her previous weeks lurking in the dark shadows of her room. She knew that she had to get out of there but she couldn't move.
"My princess." His voice echoed making her feel sick to her stomach. The way he would say it like they were in love made her nauseous. The man was twisted, and she felt as if he took pleasure in her cries of agony. Well, now Ivar took pleasure in his.
"Ailbe?" A voice whispered, but this time it was not a ghost or a memory.
"Hvitserk?" She answered, hoping to find where his voice came from.
"Hey," He spoke more certainly this time, and helped her sit up. "There's something going on outside. Ivar wanted you to go somewhere quiet."
"Quiet?" She responded, the way he'd said it had made her nervous. "Why? What's happening?"
As if on cue, the screaming started, but this time it was by no means distant. This time it was right in the center of the camp for everyone to see. Then she heard that same laugh. Ivar.
"Your God can't save you from this, christian." Was all he said as loud drum beats began to pulsate through the encampment.
Ailbe looked utterly bewildered. "Hvitserk what is he doing?" She asked, earning no response except a sigh. Quickly, she rose from her position and stumbled through the unkempt room.
She'd heard, from Hvitserk, that Ivar had stayed there since she'd been taken. That he would rarely sleep but when he did it would always be in her bed, that he'd often heard Ivar crying and yelling from within the tent but never entered to leave him in privacy. In some odd way, it was comforting. She hated the thought of Ivar being in so much anguish, but no one had ever cared about her so much before.
"Ailbe-" Hvitserk tried, getting up after her. "Ailbe stop!"
The girl paused before the door, heaving a small sigh. "What is he doing, Hvitserk?"
Hvitserk gulped, certain that she'd try to stop the whole thing as soon as she heard what was happening. "They're going to kill the Saxon." He answered.
But Ailbe did not respond as he had previously presumed. Instead, she nodded and reached for the door again. "Then I wish to be there."
"What?" Hvitserk looked at her in shock.
"I said that I wish to be there." She repeated. "I want to hear him die."
When Ivar saw her stood in the doorway, he was shocked to say the least. His sweet princess had never enjoyed the pain or injury of others. That only made him further realise how much this man had hurt her, and so only spurred him on further. After all, it was after that night that he planned for her to be Princess no more. No, instead she would be Queen. His Queen.
