𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 - 𝑰𝒗𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

46

Act Two
Made of fire

Two years had passed since Ivar last saw his son Maegor and his wife Daenaera.

It was late at night when Daenaera finally returned to her bedchambers, exhausted from the endless, pointless court talks. She stood on the balcony for hours, listening to the crashing waves and feeling the cold night breeze against her skin. Then, quietly, she slipped inside to check on her little son.

Maegor was deep in slumber, his wavy silver hair tousled, clutching his small wooden dragon tightly. Daenaera smiled softly at the peaceful sight before leaving the room.

⸻

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence.

"What are you doing in my room?" Daenaera asked, folding her arms as she crossed the threshold.

There, seated casually on her chair, as if he belonged, was Ivar. His smirk was unsettling — as if he hadn't betrayed her, as if none of it had happened.

"Where is he?" Ivar asked smoothly.

"Where is who?" Daenaera cocked an eyebrow, leaning against the wall.

"My son," Ivar's voice snapped, his eyes finally locking with hers.

Daenaera scoffed. "You don't have a son, Boneless."

"I do. The child you bore is mine as well," Ivar said quietly, careful of the guards stationed just beyond the door.

Daenaera laughed, cold and sharp. "Believe what you want. He looks nothing like you."

She stared out the window, wondering how the guards had missed him.

"He has my eyes," Ivar insisted, still watching her closely.

"Lots of Targaryens have blue eyes, Ragnarsson. It means nothing," she replied, turning back to face him slowly. "I don't want to know how you got here, but leave. Or I'll feed you to Sylvarion."

"I'll leave if you admit he's mine," Ivar snapped, anger rising. Angry at himself for losing her, for losing his son. Angry at her denial. He needed the truth. He needed his family.

"Maegor is not your son, Lothbrok," Daenaera said, voice sharp. "You got what you wanted, seven hells... you ruined my life. What else do you need?"

Tears welled in her eyes, but she fought them back, turning away so Ivar wouldn't see them slip down her pale cheeks.

His lips parted, but no words came.

"Dae... Vennligst," he whispered.

She turned, anger etched on her tear-streaked face.

"Please? That's all you have to say? Why are you here, huh? What brings the mighty Ivar the Boneless to Dragonstone?"

"My family does," he said quietly.

"Your family? Ivar..." Daenaera lifted his chin with her fingers. "Your family? You don't have a family. You fucked up. You cheated on me. You betrayed..." Her voice faltered, and she swallowed hard, biting back the words our son.

"Dae, please... listen to me," Ivar pleaded, placing his hands gently on her cheeks. "I didn't cheat on you. I never betrayed you. That girl... she's dead. We made a sacrifice of her."

Daenaera's brows knitted tight in disbelief. "And I'm supposed to believe that? Ivar, get out."

"What?" His voice cracked in shock.

She laughed bitterly. "You thought I'd believe you? That everything would just go back to normal?"