Chapter 22: Ivar's Birth & Threading Futures
The screams that echoed from Aslaug's chambers cut through Kattegat's evening air like prophecy made audible, and Paul knew he was witnessing the moment that would reshape Viking history in ways that went far beyond one difficult birth.
"This is it. The birth that creates Ivar the Boneless—the brilliant, twisted mind that will terrorize England and revolutionize warfare."
Paul stood with the other men outside the birthing chamber, listening to sounds that spoke of struggle beyond normal labor. Ragnar paced with the particular intensity of someone whose world was being redefined by forces beyond his control, while Floki muttered prayers to gods who seemed more interested in creating complications than providing comfort.
The völva Hilda emerged from the chamber with blood on her hands and an expression that carried weight beyond simple medical concern. Her pale eyes found Ragnar immediately, and Paul saw her struggle with words that would change everything.
"The child lives," she said simply. "But he is... marked."
"Marked. Such a gentle way to describe bones that break like twigs and legs that will never carry him into battle."
Ragnar pushed past her into the chamber, and Paul followed despite protocol that should have kept him outside. What he saw made his chest tighten with the particular ache that came from witnessing historical tragedy in person rather than through comfortable narrative distance.
The infant Ivar lay wrapped in soft furs, his tiny body bearing the unmistakable signs of the condition that would define his entire existence. His legs were twisted, his bones fragile as bird's wings, his very survival a violation of Viking tradition that demanded perfection from warriors who would face a world that showed no mercy to weakness.
But his eyes—even as a newborn, there was something in those pale blue eyes that spoke of intelligence that would grow beyond normal human limitations.
"Genius and monster. Victim and tyrant. All wrapped up in a broken body that will force him to become more dangerous than anyone who can simply rely on physical strength."
Aslaug looked up at Ragnar with exhaustion and defiance warring in her expression. "He is your son," she said, the words carrying challenge and plea in equal measure.
Ragnar lifted the infant with careful hands that had wielded axes in a dozen battles but now trembled with the weight of fatherhood and tradition and the choice that would define how history remembered this moment.
"He will live," Ragnar said finally, his voice carrying the authority of someone who'd learned that kings could rewrite rules when circumstances demanded it. "I don't care what tradition demands. He is my son, and he will live."
Paul activated Success Rate Analysis while maintaining his expression of respectful concern.
[QUERY: PROBABILITY OF IVAR'S SURVIVAL TO ADULTHOOD]
[RESULT: 82%]
[FACTORS: FATHER'S PROTECTION (HIGH), MEDICAL CARE (ADEQUATE), INTELLECTUAL COMPENSATION (EXCEPTIONAL), HISTORICAL SIGNIFICANCE (TIMELINE SUPPORTED)]
[SYSTEM NOTE: TIMELINE ALTERATION DETECTED - SUBJECT'S SURVIVAL ODDS INCREASED BY EXTERNAL FACTORS]
[MANA COST: 3 MP - REMAINING: 26/29]
Eighty-two percent. Higher than historical reality, and the system's noting external factors—meaning my presence is already changing Ivar's fate.
Völva Hilda examined the infant with the particular intensity of someone reading futures in the pattern of present possibilities. "Blessed and cursed both," she announced to the gathered witnesses. "The gods have marked this one for purposes we cannot see. He will never walk as others do, but he will move the world."
"If only she knew how literally accurate that prophecy will prove to be."
Later that evening, Ragnar found Paul in the great hall, both men nursing ale that tasted like responsibility and the weight of choices that would echo through generations.
"You see futures," Ragnar said without preamble. "What do you see in my son's?"
Paul considered his answer carefully. He couldn't reveal that Ivar would become one of history's most feared military commanders, that his strategic brilliance would revolutionize Viking warfare, that his name would be whispered with terror across England long after his death. But he could plant seeds that might influence how that future unfolded.
"I see a man who will change the world," Paul said slowly. "He'll never walk as others do, but he'll move armies. His mind will be his weapon, sharper than any blade ever forged."
Ragnar leaned forward with the particular attention of someone hearing words that resonated with hopes he'd been afraid to voice.
"Whether he brings glory or terror," Paul continued, "that depends on how he's raised. The same intelligence that could make him a great king could make him a monster. The choice is yours."
"You speak in riddles."
"Some futures can't be spoken plainly without changing them. But know this—your broken son will be remembered when kings are forgotten. The question is whether he's remembered as savior or destroyer."
Ragnar stared into his ale with the expression of someone whose world had just shifted on its foundations. "The völva said blessed and cursed. You're telling me which he becomes depends on me."
"It depends on love," Paul said simply. "On whether he learns that his difference makes him valuable or makes him worthless. Teach him that his mind matters more than his legs, and he'll use it to build. Teach him that the world owes him pain because of his condition, and he'll give it back with interest."
"Please let that be enough. Please let Ragnar understand that Ivar needs guidance, not just protection."
Paul found Lagertha later that night, sitting by the fire in their guest quarters with the particular stillness that came from processing events too large for immediate understanding.
"Do you want children?" she asked without looking up from the flames.
The question caught Paul completely off guard. "I... haven't thought about it. Do you?"
"I have Bjorn. That's enough for me. But I wonder what you see when you look at futures. Whether having children feels like blessing or burden when you know what's coming."
Paul sat beside her, considering the weight of responsibility that came with supernatural knowledge. "I see threads tangling. Ivar's birth changes things I can't fully predict. But I know children aren't just personal—they're political, historical. Every choice we make ripples outward."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is. But it's also why I'm here. To make sure the ripples go in the right direction."
Lagertha finally looked at him, her expression carrying the particular understanding that came from loving someone whose burdens were too complex for simple sympathy.
"And you think you can control all those ripples?"
"I think I can influence some of them. The rest..." Paul shrugged with the acceptance of someone who'd learned to live with uncertainty. "The rest I'll deal with when they happen."
[SYSTEM POINTS EARNED: 50]
[TOTAL SYSTEM POINTS: 1,875]
[TIMELINE ALTERATION ACKNOWLEDGED]
[SUBJECT: IVAR - SURVIVAL PROBABILITY IMPROVED]
[WARNING: CONTINUED ALTERATIONS MAY REQUIRE SYSTEM INTERVENTION]
That night Paul lay awake thinking about the infant Ivar, about Ragnar's choice to protect him, about the conversation that might have planted seeds of wisdom in soil that could grow either salvation or catastrophe.
"I'm not just living in history anymore. I'm actively rewriting it, one conversation at a time. And the system hasn't stopped me yet—which either means I'm doing it right or haven't crossed the line yet."
Outside their window, Kattegat slept under stars that had witnessed the birth of legends. Paul closed his eyes and tried not to think about how many of those legends had started as broken children who'd been loved or abandoned according to their parents' capacity for seeing potential in damaged things.
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