Book two of Blind Love
After being saved from the Saxons and brought back to the man she loves, Ailbe has grown far less naive. Still a gentle soul with a heart of gold, Ailbe begins to find the balance between compassion and subservience. She becom...
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Some people always dreamed of greatness. They dreamt of beautiful nightmares - greed and glory. They wanted power of joy, fame over peace.
In Ailbe's case, greatness was thrust upon her. When she wandered the streets, everyone bowed. In Ireland she was known as the Ailbe Shield-Heart. In Norway they dubbed her a Queen, but most of Kattegat truly believed that she was the goddess Frigg herself.
Ailbe didn't want to be a goddess. She didn't want to even be a Queen. She didn't want greatness, fame, glory, or power. Ailbe Shield-Heart felt like an obnoxious lie. Calling herself Queen felt too pretentious for her enjoyment. The thought of being Frigg, and being worshipped by people who were just like her made her stiffen uncomfortably.
But therein lay the problem.
Ivar wanted to be great. He dreamt of power and glory, of his name being echoed for centuries to come, of him overshadowing all who came before and all who would come after. He wanted to be the greatest, to be worshipped as a God and remembered as one.
And Ailbe wanted to remain by his side.
Everyday waking up and pretending to be superior was a chore for Ailbe. She knew that she wasn't, and it only felt more apparent since her encounter with her brother. But she did it. She wore a smile and tried her hardest to never let it break. But it was slipping. She could feel it all slipping from her grasp.
Since Aslaug was born, Ailbe noticed a difference within Ivar that she had been previously blind to. He seemed so focused on fortifications and this delusion of greatness. Perhaps it was his way of trying to protect them, his family, but it was beginning to scare her.
He was beginning to scare her.
He swore that he'd never let anyone touch them, and she could feel it. She'd not seen Thora since his return. She'd barely even seen Hvitserk. Whitehair was constantly at her side, watching her like a hawk. And instead of feeling protected, she couldn't help but feel like a prisoner. Trapped.
"Ivar do you mind if Aslaug comes with me to see Hvitserk?" Ailbe spoke up as the baby sat on her lap.
"Why are you going to see Hvitserk again?" He narrowed his gaze at her ever so slightly. Recently the paranoia had begun to set in, particularly regarding his brother. And though Ailbe was one of the very few people in this world he trusted, he had no remaining trust left for Hvitserk.
"I haven't seen him in weeks, Ivar." She clarified, mildly disgruntled by his assertion.
"Well you won't find him. I sent him to gather an army to fight against Bjorn and Harald." Ivar answered.
"You sent Hvitserk?" She questioned, a little shocked. She wondered why he hadn't sent one of the men that he trusted more, like Whitehair.
He didn't answer, instead he stood and kissed the top of Aslaug's head, placing his hand on Ailbe's cheek. "I told you that I wouldn't let anything happen to us." He spoke firmly before departing.
Ailbe sat in silence, holding Aslaug to her. The little baby gave a shrill cry, wailing as tears streamed down her face.
"I know." Ailbe answered her daughter's sorrow as she contemplated her husband. "I know."
