𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 - 𝑰𝒗𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

16

"I have never wanted you more, my warrior," Ivar murmured into her ear, making Daenaera look up into his eyes.

"I could say the same, Ivar the Boneless," she replied softly. His chuckle followed as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

Hand in hand, Ivar and Daenaera entered the great hall. As they sat, Ubbe raised his voice:
"We did well, brothers!"

Cheers erupted from the gathered Vikings.

"We?" Ivar asked, turning to Ubbe with a questioning look. Daenaera squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Yes," Ubbe said, pointing at Ivar, "I saved your life."

Daenaera's lips curled into a thin, displeased line. She had been the one commanding her dragon to burn the Saxons—not Ubbe. She scoffed, catching his attention before he could respond.

"I don't recall you having a dragon, or ordering it to burn every Saxon here, Ragnarsson," her voice was cold and unwavering—a true Targaryen's steel. If her uncle Daemon had seen her now, he would have been proud.

Ivar grinned at his wife, then spoke:
"It was all my strategy, and you know it." He pulled Daenaera closer as she sat next to him.

"We all did very well," Hvitserk said, "So why argue?"

"I'm not arguing," Ivar protested.

"Good," Ubbe said, and Ivar, still playing with Daenaera's hair, looked up at him.

"Isn't what we do next obvious, Ubbe?" Ivar's voice dripped with irony.

"Yes," the eldest replied earnestly.

Daenaera closed her eyes briefly, fighting the urge to roll them. The irony was clear as day to her—yet Ubbe never caught it.

"We have defeated the Saxons. Let's make good our claim to the land. Let's make peace."

Ivar's response was immediate. Daenaera scrunched her nose in disbelief—did he really think peace was possible after all this?

"I have no interest in peace. 'Peace' is a dirty word," Ivar snapped, his snark earning wide grins from Daenaera and the other Vikings.

"More of our people can cross the water. We can farm, right?" Ubbe suggested.

Daenaera didn't bother closing her eyes this time—she just rolled them. Ivar did the same.

"Now it is time to negotiate."

"And that is the wrong advice, as always, Ubbe," Ivar retorted.

"So, Ivar," Hvitserk stood and leaned closer, "Daenaera, what do you suggest, hmm?"

"The Saxons lost the battle," Ivar stated calmly, "but they have not lost the war. I'd beware negotiating with them."

⸻

Later that night, in their chambers, Daenaera lay beside shirtless Ivar, her hair loose over the pillow.

"Ivar," she called softly as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you say to beware negotiating?"

He smiled warmly.

"You notice everything, my princess," he said. "I said it because that's exactly what they will try."

"But why won't you stop them?" she asked, leaning her head on his chest.

"I want it to be a lesson for them, my dear wife." His hand ran gently through her hair.

She lifted her head, smiled, and whispered,

"I love you more than anything, Ivar."

"And I love you, my princess." He leaned in, kissing her lips.

"But right now," he said, flipping two of his brothers teasingly, "I couldn't care less about them. I want you."

Daenaera moaned softly beneath him as he kissed her hungrily.

⸻

The next morning, Ivar sat on a rock in the great hall, listening to Daenaera's stories.

"Welcome back, brothers," he greeted Ubbe and Hvitserk. Both looked battered—Ubbe's forehead bleeding, Hvitserk's face streaked with mud.

"Oh, you look thirsty! Are you thirsty?" Ivar teased, making the hall chuckle. "I know, I know—you shouldn't say 'I told you so,' but I told you so!"

Ubbe shook his head, about to speak, but Ivar cut him off with a glare.

"No, no, no. Let me guess! You went to the Saxons and tried to make a deal. They spoke sweet words, hmm?"

He chuckled, clapping his hands.

"But of course, you were brave. You fought back, right? You didn't let them get away with it. You two are lucky to be alive."

Then he fixed them with a sharp look.

"Now it's finally time for you to recognize me as the rightful leader of the Great Army."

"As your older brother—" Ubbe started, but Ivar's guards stepped forward, blocking him.

"As your older brother, I will never accept that," Ubbe said, frustrated.

Ivar closed his eyes and shook his head, humming thoughtfully.

"In any case, it would be a dereliction of duty. After all, doesn't someone have to be responsible for the care of our people?"