𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 - 𝑰𝒗𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

30

The council gathered beneath a gray sky, the warriors and shield-maidens of Ragnar's sons standing tensely in the open field. Bjorn stepped forward, his voice steady and commanding.

"We all know," Bjorn began, "that today there are many shield-maidens and warriors-at-arms among us. We must decide—do we fight, or do we seek an accommodation? One that allows us to live our lives with integrity and honour."

He swept his gaze across the crowd, settling on his brothers. "I call upon you—Ivar, Hvitserk—let us set aside our differences for the sake of our father. A civil war would bring nothing but tragedy, weaken our family, and set in motion a lifetime of revenge for those who survive. Is that truly what we want?"

Ivar's eyes met Bjorn's with a cold, menacing glint.

Ubbe stepped forward then, voice calm but firm. "I speak to support Bjorn. It's true I opposed my brother. But I ask you, Ivar, if you can forgive me, let us make an accord."

Before Ivar could answer, Lagertha rose, regal and fierce.

"We go to war over the kingdom of Kattegat," she declared, "a land carved out first by my husband, Ragnar Lothbrok... and then by me. I am its rightful queen. What we should be discussing is how to unite our great armies, to set out toward new lands, new conquests, new opportunities."

She turned to the raven-haired woman standing nearby. "Astrid! I am glad to see you again. Whatever has happened, I... I do not want to fight you."

Astrid's gaze was steady. "I am married now," she said simply. "I am King Harald's wife."

Ivar smirked. Lagertha's voice was sharp. "Queen Astrid, I suppose."

Halfdan, Harald's brother, stepped into the tense silence. "Brother, let us not fight. What do we gain? Nothing."

"On the contrary," Ivar said, voice smooth and dangerous. "We will gain the world. Join us, and I will share it with you."

Bjorn fixed his eyes on Ivar. "The choice is yours. If you cannot bring yourself to fight your brothers, to make peace, then we can find an accord. And King Harald cannot stop us."

Lagertha stepped closer to Ivar, her voice low and threatening. "You have so much to lose. If you want war, then we shall have it. But win or lose, you lose."

A low rumble broke through the tension as Daenaera descended from the sky, Sylvarion's great shadow darkening the field. Her voice rang out clear and cold.

"Are you sure about that?"

Ivar's grin widened as he looked at his wife. Sylvarion towered over them all—fierce and terrible.

Lagertha whispered, disbelieving. Daenaera scoffed.

"It is very much true," Daenaera said, stepping to stand directly in front of Ivar, face-to-face with Lagertha.

"You can't bring this beast to war. It's unfair," Lagertha spat, eyes narrowed on the silver-haired girl.

"Unfair?" Daenaera's voice was steady, fierce. "You speak of unfairness after you murdered an innocent woman."

A hush fell. None dared to speak against Daenaera—not while the dragon waited.

"Call my dragon a beast again, and I promise you, he will burn you alive." Daenaera's words were a sharp promise.

Ivar took Daenaera's wrist gently, guiding her to stand beside him.

He murmured in her ear, a faint trace of amusement in his voice. "Iksos ziry va moriot raqagon bisa? Skoros nykeā aspo."
(Is she always like this? What a bitch.)

Lagertha's voice rose again, more desperate. "You gain victory over Ragnar's sons, and they will say you are an illegitimate ruler, a usurper. Lose, and they will say it was the will of the gods—and the will of Ragnar himself, who now dines with them in Valhalla, weeping for us."

Ubbe stepped forward, pleading. "Do not do this, Ivar. We are sons of Ragnar—does that not mean enough?"

Ivar rose, taking Daenaera's hand, their fingers intertwining firmly.

"Bring the horns of mead," he declared. "There will be no battle today, nor tomorrow."

Daenaera looked at him, brow furrowed, unsure if he spoke in irony or truth.

Harald stepped forward, disbelief and anger in his voice. "What are you saying? You cannot decide this alone."