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I wasn't the same after what happened. I could feel the change in myself, the overwhelming abyss that seemed to creep into my soul. My every fiber had been violated, and I just couldn't get over this sense that I'd lost complete control. I'd lost myself. And, in the absence of myself, I clung to the only thing that made sense in this terrifying world - Ivar.
"You're quiet." Hvitserk spoke up from beside me, another desperate attempt to get me to talk. I'd barely said a word since I'd returned, and what I had said had been to Ivar. Even if I wanted to say something, I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. "You've barely eaten too." He noted, looking over with concern. "C'mon" He said, leaning over to put his hand on my shoulder reassuringly.
Without meaning to, however, almost as some involuntary movement, I flinched. I could see, through the corner of my eye, the pain and worry that spread over his every feature. I hoped he knew that I didn't mean to, that it was no reflection on him. I hoped he knew that I had simply been broken, that I couldn't find a way back out of this darkness.
"Iris," He tried again, this time avoiding coming near me. "You have to eat, you know."
I nodded, another blank movement that held no thought behind it. But I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't do anything without my thoughts dragging back to outside those stone walls. I missed my time. I missed my mother and father and their sweet words. I missed class where all these people were mere studies.
When I looked over at Hvitserk, my eyes glassy and my mind unconcentrated, I placed my hand on his. "Don't go to Ireland." I said firmly before walking away. I noticed how he watched me leave, as though my words were utter nonsense that came from nowhere. But to me, they made perfect sense.
My history professor had told me that it was often believed that Hvitserk and Halfdan Ragnarsson were the same person. And, as I'd seen no evidence of a Halfdan while here, I was inclined to believe he was right. That meant in a mere twelve years, Ivar would have died in Ireland and so would Hvitserk. I knew the dates of their deaths, the locations, the manner in which they died. But looking at them, these young men with long lives ahead, it was hard to fathom that they were so close to their demise. Perhaps he'd remember my words someday, perhaps he'd heed my warning or realise when it was too late. I didn't know. I didn't know how any of this worked. All I knew was that I was here now, and there was no clear way for me to return home - not that I was going to try again after what had happened last time.
When I finally came to a halt, I found myself by a small puddle. In its murky waters I could see myself, dark rings around my eyes and a redness from my tears. I looked so numb, so lifeless, and I couldn't even muster a smile to satisfy my own need for joy. In my heart, I couldn't find any joy. Everything I knew and loved was gone. I'd been torn from my family, my world. I'd been imprisoned, raped, forced to kill. Mere months ago, I was a History student in the 1960s. Now here I was, everything I understood turned upside down. And, as I looked at myself, I couldn't help but break.
Falling to the floor, I muffled my sobs with my hand, wincing with every tear as I tried to remain silent. I was afraid, tired, done with this world and my web of lies. All I wanted was to go home. All I wanted was to be safe.
"Iris?" A voice made me freeze, the familiar sound of Ivar's crutch against the floor making me wipe away my tears and stand to look over at him. "What are you doing?" He asked in a somewhat accusatory tone, watching me carefully for anything that could catch me out.
I looked at the floor, taking a breath as I found my words again. "Nothing." I answered. "I just needed some air."
As his brows furrowed, I wasn't sure whether I was about to get murdered or comforted. However, as soon as he opened his mouth to say something to me, he closed it again. I could see him contemplating what to do and what to say, but all I received was a nod and a simple, "Be careful."
