Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Time passed, as it always did. Even days that felt like they would drag on forever, withered away in time.
In time, people grew up and grew old. And, though Ivar was not yet old, he could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders... And the certainty of his own mortality. Everyday Aslaug grew. Everyday was another first. Once it had been her first word. Today it was her first step.
It had been almost a year since her birth and she'd already lost everything. And though every occasion should have been a happy one, Ivar was filled with only emptiness in the midst of everything.
Aslaug's first word was "No". She was barely six months when she said it, yet already she was taking after her father. For months she sat, arms folded in the way that he always did, mimicking his every action, saying "no" to everything.
He could almost hear Ailbe's gentle laughter in his ear. Her joking voice as he compared them, telling him that the little girl was quickly taking after him. And then, as he began to feel ashamed that she was like him, he could hear her again; telling him that she loved him, that she was glad.
But as quickly as it came, it left like a whisper on the wind. She was gone. No wishing or praying to the Gods could ever being her back. He never got to say goodbye, to bury her, even to truly mourn her. Instead he sat in the icy winter roads somewhere outside Russia alone.
When Aslaug took her first step, Ivar contemplated whether Ailbe had thought about such a moment before... Well, what happened. He wondered if she imagined the tiny girl teetering around, proudly walking by herself with a beaming smile that could light up the coldest winter. He wondered if she missed it, if she wished that she could see it. And, though part of him presumed she was still watching from Freyja's hall, another wasn't so sure.
He couldn't stand it.
In his head, all of these moments would be moments that they shared. When they married he'd seen it all. He'd seen their lives together, first steps and words from many children to come. And then those of their grandchildren afterwards. But it was all gone. Ripped away in one heartbreaking moment that could not be undone.
Every night he was tormented by her memory. He saw her there, standing on that damned hill. He imagined her jumping, falling, dying. And every single time he was too late. He couldn't save her.
"Father!" Aslaug giggled, toddling over. He smiled, watching her joy with fondness, observing her every movement as if it was the last time that he'd see it. As she stumbled into his arms, Ivar lifted her up onto his lap, holding her closely.
So many things had gone wrong in his life.
He'd lost so much.
Aslaug wasn't disadvantaged as he was. She was strong, she was healthy, she was perfect. She could walk like her mother, and see like him. She had her whole life ahead of her, a life that he wanted to ensure was fit for her perfection. He wanted her to have everything she deserved, including the kingdom that he had promised her many moons before.
When he lost Ailbe, he couldn't let Aslaug out of his sight. He felt this need to protect her, and being apart from her terrified him. He wanted to be close to her, to ensure she was safe and make sure that he could never lose her as he had lost Ailbe. But now, now he had to do something. Now he had to take Kattegat back. For himself and for his daughter. Doing so would certainly be dangerous, and he couldn't put her in harm's way. So, he was going to have to do what he didn't think was possible.
