𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 - 𝑰𝒗𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

15

Daenaera smiled at Ivar, then noticed his hair was tangled and messy.
"Do you want me to braid your hair?" she asked gently.

Ivar's face lit up as he nodded eagerly. Daenaera climbed onto a high stone behind his chair and began undoing his hair. As she ran her fingers through the strands, massaging his scalp, Ivar relaxed and closed his eyes. She carefully parted his hair into sections and started braiding it anew.

⸻

From the tallest tower, the brothers and Daenaera watched the approaching Saxon army.

"Is that him?" Daenaera asked Ivar. He simply nodded.

"Who?" Hvitserk leaned in, trying to see what they saw.

"Aethelwulf, King Ecbert's son," Ivar replied.

"He brought his own sons with him," Daenaera said, a wicked smile curling her lips.

"That's it, let's go," Ubbe said, already turning to leave with Hvitserk following. Daenaera stayed close to Ivar.

⸻

The Saxons entered York swiftly, believing the Vikings had abandoned it. They stopped abruptly at the castle in the city's center—where a massive pyre of bones burned, sending thick smoke into the sky. The soldiers stared in disbelief.

Suddenly, Viking archers rained arrows down, killing many. The rest raised their shields, but as they retreated toward the city gates, the doors slammed shut behind them, trapping them inside. The archers resumed their deadly volley, felling even more soldiers.

The soldiers' retreat was halted by hidden spikes—long, sharp nails embedded in the ground.

As King Ecbert's son and his men fled the city, Ivar turned to Daenaera.

"The dragon."

She nodded and swiftly found Sylvarion, commanding her dragon to unleash fire on the trapped Saxons.

⸻

Leading another group of soldiers, the bishop halted when he saw the smoke. Quietly drawing his knife, he whispered, "Forgive the work I must do today."

As archers killed many of his men, the remaining fled forward. The gates slammed shut behind them, and then he saw it: a living, roaring dragon—breathing fire and slaughtering half his soldiers.

Out of the smoke came Hvitserk, Ubbe, and their warriors, clashing fiercely with the enemy.

Suddenly, a sound made Daenaera jump. She leapt from Sylvarion's back, telling him to fly off.

Someone had knocked Ivar from his chariot. Daenaera froze, fear rooting her to the spot.

But as she watched, she understood his plan.

Ivar lay still on the ground, feigning death. That boy is a genius, she thought.

When an enemy soldier approached, Ivar sprang up, swinging his axes wildly—beating the man until his face was drenched in Saxon blood.

Ivar roared, crawled back to his chariot, and sat upright.

⸻

As enemy soldiers advanced toward him, Ivar laughed maniacally, roaring and shouting in his native tongue:

"Don't you know who I am? You can't kill me! I am Ivar the Boneless! I am Ivar the Boneless! You can't kill me!"

Ubbe and the others caught Ivar's fierce gaze. Ivar glanced at them and shook his head, signaling no.

He planted his sword in front of them, letting his presence terrify the enemy further.

"You will all die!" he bellowed before Ubbe and the others charged back into battle with renewed fury.

As enemy soldiers closed in on Ivar, Viking warriors and his bodyguards formed a protective shield around him.

Daenaera hurried to Sylvarion but stayed grounded.

When the enemies advanced, she whispered a word in her mother tongue—and her dragon incinerated the attackers.

Ivar laughed at the display.

The bishop, wounded by an arrow to the leg, pulled it free and hurled it aside. He glared at Ivar, who laughed back, clapping his hands on his axe.

Then Daenaera spotted the Saxon prince and loosed an arrow, striking him down. Ivar's laughter grew louder.

The bishop mounted his horse and fled.

⸻

Ivar suddenly shouted in Valyrian, the language Daenaera had taught him:

"Skoriot iksis ñuha ābrazȳrys? Skoriot iksis ñuha vīlībāzmio?"
(Where is my wife? Where is my warrior?)

Hearing her mother tongue, Daenaera knew it was him and ran to his side.

"Iksan kesīr Ivar, iksan lēda ao."
(I'm here, Ivar. I'm with you.)

She knelt beside him, but Ivar caught her by the hips and sat her down on his legs.

"I told you nothing would happen to your dragon, my princess," he said with a wide smile.

Daenaera smiled back, resting her head against his chest.

"You did it. You did it, Ivar," she murmured, as his hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her into a gentle kiss.