"I shall do my best to remember." Ivar listened to precious few around him, but he understood that Dany knew what she was talking about, for she was a ruler. "Someday soon, I'm going back to finish the war my brothers and I started in England." Then he was turning his attention to becoming the leader of the army. Ivar was always the dark horse in that race, the youngest crippled son of the great Ragnar Lothbrok. But his brothers were too weak or stupid to do what was necessary to rule their people.

"She loved all of us. It wasn't easy raising four sons born as close together as we were." Four sons in five years and one of them physically disabled. No wonder Aslaug had turned to drink more often than not to get her through the day. But Ivar loved his mother with a fierce and devoted sort of love. She was the one who had kept him alive throughout his childhood against all odds.

He listens. She's spoken of the monsters that plague her world. Such a being that could take down a full-grown dragon was a terrifying thought. He taps Viserion playfully on the end of his snout. "You have a second chance with him here. May he grow large and fearsome."