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Do you know that feeling you get when you see the most beautiful thing in the world? When you look at something and think 'This is love'. Your chest fills with this feeling, and it feels as though it may burst, as a warm smile tugs at you lips and your head raises to the clouds. You feel joy like no other, you feel hope like no other, you feel love.
As Ailbe peered down at the tiny sleeping baby, she felt much the same. She'd done so with Baldr too and - although she knew it wasn't actually her - she had recalled the same feeling with Aslaug.
When Ivar finally burst into the room, clutching his crutch and staring over in fear and concern, Ailbe could barely tear her eyes away long enough to greet him.
"Is that...?" He began, dragging himself closer with wide eyes.
She beamed cheerily back, giving a nod, "Your son."
Slowly, he sat beside her on the bed and the room fell deathly quiet. Utter and complete silence, save for the soft gurgles and murmurs of the tired child. Both of them kept staring at the boy in awe, his calming nature so contagious. "I think he will be quite the trickster." Ailbe told him, her voice so soft that it was barely above a whisper. "He's a funny little thing."
Ivar smiled, looking down at the baby as he recalled someone rather familiar. "Like Floki." He answered, looking to the flame haired girl to ensure the name. She gave a gentle smile and a nod, slowly passing him the boy in question.
As much as she wanted to hold him forever, she was so tired already. And yet, before she could drift away into sleep, a stray memory penetrated her thoughts like a blade.
"It says here that he had a daughter... Aslaug." He explained, making Ailbe's eyes widen as she recalled her dream. Ivar had been holding a baby in her dream. Aslaug. "And two sons... Baldr and Floki."
"Sons?" She asked.
The memory made her smile. All of it, every bit of research they'd done, was coming true. And, as calming as it was to know all that would come of their happy family, it was equally disconcerting. As each thing came true, she realised something that she couldn't let go of.
"You're sure that you, Ailbe, who is here in 1948, are the wife of Ivar The Boneless - a man who died over a thousand years ago in 873." Ivar stated rationally.
Ivar, this Ivar, was going to die. And he was going to die soon. And the more things that came to fruition, the more she doubted her ability to halt the sands of time. To save him. But she had to try, did she not? She had to do something.
Even if all she received was nothing, at least she could say that she tried. But in truth? The very concept of losing him now, after everything, was enough to break her heart again. She couldn't bare even the thought of losing him. A world without him in... It just didn't seem worth living. So, no matter the cost, he had to live.
Because losing the one you love, is a fate worse than death.
