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It was that damn cliff again.
That damn beautiful cliff.
He'd lost everything on that cliff. Once, it had been a place of refuge. When he was a child, and the world had tormented him endlessly, he'd come to this place for peace. But now he couldn't find any peace.
He sat, staring off the edge and into the deep endless blue below. She was down there, somewhere, or swept away to distant lands. But he knew she was there. Forever submerged by the ocean.
He knew she hated the ocean. So he wasn't sure if his sitting there was for his own comfort or for hers. Either way, he didn't want her to be alone down there. In a way, it was just comforting to talk to her - even if she couldn't hear him. He hoped she could hear him. He hoped she didn't feel alone and scared down there. But hope was the worst part. He never gave up hope.
That small part of him that denied her death initially, that swore it wasn't real, was still screaming inside him. He saw her everywhere. She haunted him. She was in the red flowers along the meadow, she was in the laughter of their child, she was always in his heart. The smiles of women, who likely only wanted to use him for their own agendas, did little to sway him from her. And he always returned here. To her.
He couldn't help but recall the tale she'd told him, the woman that Brian had compared her to. Clíodhna & Ciabhan. The goddess who left her people to live with her love, only to be swept into the sea by the angry Gods. There was a cruel irony about it, he supposed. Now she truly was like the tale.
Above, an owl squawked and it only reminded him further of her. It swooped over head, and he watched it fly with sorrow in his gaze.
Slowly, he looked back down to the ocean, away from the cruel bird that reminded him of everything he'd lost. "Why did you have to leave me?" He whispered, only hating the situation more. In mere moments he went from having everything he'd ever wanted to nothing at all.
"Ivar?" A soft voice made him look up. A soft voice that he'd know anywhere. S voice that he thought was just in his head until he saw her, her red hair blowing in the wind and a gentle smile on her lips. She wore odd clothes, a hat in her hand and colours that he'd never before seen so vibrantly. But it was her. There was no doubt it was her.
"Are you real?" He asked, wide-eyed and in pure shock.
At this, Ailbe gave a nod, stepping closer gently. "I'm real."
"And you're alive?" He continued, still unable to process the situation before him.
She chuckled gently, that sweet laugh that never failed to rouse a smile to his lips. "Yes, I'm alive."
He inhaled sharply, staring at her. "And you can see me?"
"I can see you as clear as day." She answered.
Quickly, he clambered towards his crutch so that he could walk over to her. It suddenly became apparent to them that she'd never seen him crawl, and he didn't want that to tarnish the moment. But Ailbe didn't care about his legs. She didn't care about any of it. In just a moment, she had remembered every minute detail of their lives together. And she loved him, more than life itself.
She ran over, hugging him tightly. For a moment he was in such shock that he couldn't move, but he quickly wrapped his arms around her and held her closely.
Many years ago, on this cliff, he'd lost everything. He'd lost the love of his life, the woman that made his heart beat in his chest. Gods he'd spent every day of his life since regretting it. He'd wished that things had been different, prayed and prayed and prayed to have her back. And now she was back. She was here in his arms again.
