𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 - 𝑰𝒗𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

9

As the music grew louder and the dancers filled the hall, the northern prince's eyes never left his betrothed. It seemed she read his mind. With a teasing smirk, Daenaera reached for his hand and pulled him gently out of the hall.

They slipped through the corridors of the Red Keep, their footsteps muffled against the stone.

"Are you sure you're not a witch, princess?" Ivar asked quietly, a teasing edge in his voice.

Daenaera smiled, turning to him. Standing on her tiptoes, she whispered into his ear, "I am not a witch—only a dragonrider."

She stood before him, and Ivar returned her smile, his eyes darkening with desire. Together, they made their way to his chambers.

⸻

Once inside, the door barely closed before Ivar pressed her against the wall, capturing her plump lips in a fierce kiss. His mind echoed with the sweetness of her taste, as if she were the sweetest thing in the world.

"I'll remind you, princess," he murmured between kisses, "that I'm still a cripple."

Daenaera pulled back slightly, eyes sharp. "And how many times do you want me to tell you that I don't care?"

He shrugged. "Just reminding you."

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're still not sure."

"Ivar, look at me," she said, cradling his face in her hands. "You are perfect. You were just nervous—I know it."

Her whispered words melted away his doubts as she led him to the bed.

Seeing his defined form laid out before her nearly made her lose herself.

"You're so handsome, Ivar," she breathed, hovering above him.

"Thank you, princess," he murmured, eyes never leaving her, admiring every curve. She kissed him in response, and he felt himself tighten beneath her touch.

"I told you," she said with a sly wiggle of her brows.

In an instant, Ivar's pale blue eyes darkened with lust. He flipped them, claiming her mouth again as he kissed a trail down her body, leaving no inch untouched. His large hands roamed her curves, while Daenaera tugged gently at his hair.

"Stop teasing, Ivar."

"If the princess wishes it," he whispered back, their moans rising in harmony as his hands gripped her waist, pulling her close.

⸻

Afterward, Daenaera lay breathless, Ivar beside her, fingers entwined in her silver hair, softly caressing.

"I never imagined this could happen to me," he admitted quietly.

She propped herself up on her elbows, smiling gently. "Your legs have nothing to do with it, my prince."

"How did you know?" he asked, eyes narrowing, searching her face.

"I may or may not have secretly borrowed a book from the septa on the subject," she confessed with a laugh.

Ivar chuckled, surprised. "You're serious?"

She nodded. "I made my uncle Daemon return it. He gave the septa a questioning look."

As she spoke, Ivar's gaze roamed her features—her silver-white hair, full eyebrows, pale green eyes, plump lips, and delicate nose. She looked like a goddess. His goddess.

⸻

"I'm sure you realize you are mine," Ivar said suddenly, voice low and possessive. "I won't let you leave."

Daenaera smiled coyly. "I'll just fly away on dragonback, Ivar. Have you thought of that?"

He chuckled.

"I'll bring us something to drink," she said, rising, and he nodded.

When she returned, Ivar motioned her close. She settled atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around her porcelain back, her legs dangling over his. He kissed her cheek softly.

"You are mine, princess. Always and forever."

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his face. "And you are mine, my prince. Always and forever."

⸻

Weeks later, on the day of her wedding, Daenaera barely slept, her mind alive with the thought of her future with Ivar. They journeyed to Dragonstone, where the ceremony would be held.

The couple stood on sacred ground, clad in custom-made wedding attire. Ivar first sliced his palm, watching as Daenaera did the same. Their hands intertwined, a cloth was wrapped tightly around them, the fabric quickly stained crimson as they squeezed, their mingled blood seeping onto the ancient stones—an unbreakable bond forged.

They drank together from a single cup, the ritual sealing their union.

As Ivar handed the cup back to the priest, he cupped Daenaera's face in his hands and kissed her deeply.

Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd—Rhaenyra, Leanor, Daemon, Leana, Viserys, Corlys, Rhaenys, and Ivar's family—celebrating the newlyweds and the beginning of their life together.