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"And then it's ruled by the Normans-" Ailbe explained, but was cut short by a rather confused glance.
"Normans?" Ivar asked, as though the word was utter gibberish. Of course, it was gibberish in this time. Normans didn't even exist yet.
Ailbe recalled the fact that she was speaking almost three hundred years in the future, even through it was nearly a thousand years in the past to her. "Uhm... They're like the Francs, they are descended from your Uncle Rollo and his subjects."
"So they'll kill the Christians?" He asked. "In your time?"
She gave another frown. "Well, they are Christians, and much more brutal than the Saxons. In fact, they're the ones who will not only bring an end to the Saxons... But to all of you and all of my people."
"And our Gods?" He asked, and Ailbe could see something unfamiliar in his eyes - something she was a very aware he had felt before, but something she'd never actually seen - fear.
She sighed heavily, knowing that her following words would be most devastating to someone so devoted to his beliefs and his people. "In less than 100 years, most of Scandinavia will be Christian..." She said sympathetically, knowing how it must feel to hear such a thing. "Pagans are to be treated awfully, and though many rebel and continue their way of life, it is largely stamped out. However, in my time, people are free to believe whatever they wish... And many people have gone back to these old beliefs."
Ivar listened silently, taking in every detail and piece of information that he could. Although there was likely little he could do to stop it, he yearned desperately to save his people from their imminent doom. "And what about us?" He asked finally, looking over to their sleeping children.
Ailbe gave a smile, recalling her many lessons about Ivar The Boneless that were taken up by arguments about 'who was the greatest Viking to ever live'. And, largely, she knew the answer. "You will be one of the most famous men in history." She said with a soft smile. "Greater than your father, your brothers, and anyone who comes after you. I know where you'll go, the things you'll do, and when you'll die..." She finished with a frown. "But maybe if you lived longer, none of the things that are going to happen will ever take place."
"Live longer?" He asked with a sarcastic chuckle. "What I'm not dying anytime soon." But Ailbe's silence, and the pale look on her face told him otherwise, and his cockiness quickly dissipated into a look of paranoia. "Right?"
"Three years." She blurted out before she could stop herself, and quickly covered her mouth.
But it was too late, and now he knew. He knew that he was going to die. He knew that there was nothing he could do to stop his death. He knew that it was coming, and quickly. And what worse burden was there to bare than that?
"How? Where?" His curiosity increased, as she gave him a look that told him he was being morbid.
"Ireland, near where I'm from." She answered. "And, supposedly, I'll already be dead."
"Well, then I don't mind dying. It was just imagining you living the rest of your life with Hvitserk that worried me." He answered jokingly, as though the scenario was at all humourous. One would think they were discussing something far less serious than their own deaths.
"Ivar!" She hit his arm gently. "It's not funny."
"No, I know, I'd much rather be dead than stuck with him-"
"Thank you brother." Hvitserk spoke up for the first time from the corner of the room, evidently less than impressed by the whole situation. "Do you two ever think about anything other than death?"
Ailbe smiled, recalling the many humourous conversations that she'd had with the pair in her own time. They were just the same, not a single change within them. And though she loved them both, she couldn't help but miss her own home.
