Val may be independent, but she loves few things quite as fiercely as she loves her mother, father, and sister. And so when her father calls her and Thorny together, she's quick to respond. They're growing up, the pair of them, although she doesn't quite understand what that means yet. She doesn't understand it in the same way she doesn't understand what's going on with her father. Being observant is not one of her strong suits (at least, not yet) and even if it was, she's the kind of child who believes her entire family is immortal. It's simply inconceivable that her father (or mother) (or sister) might one day die, and so it never crosses her mind.

Little does she know.

And so she doesn't worry as they spar in the idyllic spring weather. She thrills to learn the motions of battle, relishing every block, every attack. She knows in her heart that she's meant to be a warrior, that she's meant for the clash of battle. She's heard (vaguely) the way that her parents are talked about, the history that they both have, and she's put together the pieces enough to understand that war is in her blood. And the way she fights, there can be no doubt about it. She is a tiny whirlwind, forceful and strong, and reckless. She doesn't hold back, doesn't hesitate to throw herself into a dangerous situation for an expected payoff. And even when she gets bumped the wrong way, even when she gets bounched around or a little bruised, it only seems to stoke her fire more.

But all good things must come to an end, and so too does the sparring session. When they retire to the shade of the tree, Val is thoroughly pleased. Demonstrative as ever, she walks over to her father and bumps him rather less than gently with her nose on his shoulder. "That was fun dad." she says, and she means it with her whole heart. Her voice is incongruously pretty, smooth and strong but lyrical and pleasant at the same time. She's come a long way with the whole speaking thing; it seems like years ago that she'd stood in front of him and demanded "NAME" and nothing more.

"How many battles have you won?" she asks, her voice making it clear that she expects the answer to be on the order of hundreds, or perhaps even that it's uncountable. That's how it has to be, because he is her father, and he is invincible.

VALKERINE!

tomboy daughter of librette & covet

Not nearly enough, he says, and she wants to snort or argue but decides against it. She knew the answer before he'd even spoken, and she won't accept anything else. He is her father, he is the bomb, and that's all there is to it.

Her sister speaks then, and Val catches her look. She returns it in kind by sticking her tongue out at her sister. Val is not the subtle one of the pair. But she can't deny that she's glad her sister had asked – not because she's about to think she's all that just because her father was a king, but because she wants to know everything about him. She's lucky to have that drive: she could just as easily have been born more independent, not wanting her father or mother's company. It's sheer luck, really, that she's going to know him rather well before he passes.

She listens, rapt, as he describes what was. She doesn't know the details, but what he gives is color enough for her imagination to run wild. She pictures him as the strong conquering hero, like the kind of thing that shows up in the tales that are told to children. She doesn't bother trying to reconcile the idea of him as hero with the idea of him taking over another kingdom and making it a subkingdom. Somehow, these two things exist independently, both accepted, and none of it seems to contradict. So young, and she has a beautiful way of twisting the facts to suit her whims.

"Mom was a queen too." she says, wondering if Thorny knew or not. "A queen and a general. She even fought in one of the big Alliance battles." she said, hoping that her sister didn't know all those details. Librette herself hadn't actually been the one to tell Val at least a good chunk of it. The chestnut yearling is terribly talkative, and when you're talkative, you end up hearing things.

And then, something clicks in her mind. She realizes just how old he must be, to have ruled somewhere for twenty years, and then ruled somewhere else much later. She doesn't realize it in the context of "he is probably going to die soon" but rather in the context of "he's lived a terribly long time." And it makes her curious.

"How'd you meet mom?"

VALKERINE!

tomboy daughter of librette & covet

Father speaks of trying to stop mother and failing, and Val can't help but giggle. She's imagining it in her head, coming up with all kinds of funny scenarios where mother and father tussle, and ending with him falling on his ass (which, coincidentally, is roughly what actually happened). You see, Val has never been under the delusion that Thorny is under – she's always known that both of her parents were great. She's always felt it in her skin, within her bones. She's known it in the way they've both cared for them, in their own ways, sure, but faithfully and certainly nonetheless. They both have a way about them, something that sets them apart. Even as they fade with age, that aura remains.

"She totally did." she says, completely confident. She is starting to be able to read people better as she gets older, and she can tell from the way her father looks that he's currently lost in memories. That, combined with how he'd just spoken tells her everything that she needs to know.

They lull into silence for a moment, and Val's mind wanders, as it tends to do. Both she and her sister have incredibly active minds; but where Thorny's is being all analytical and thoughtful and silent Val's is leaping from point to point like a hyperactive kangaroo that's just been fed some kind of very strange LSD.

"But, why weren't you ever the king here?" the girl asks her father, not understanding that such things might be a sore point. Perhaps they aren't for Covet, and perhaps they wouldn't be for some. And perhaps if he weren't her father she wouldn't be asking, because even she (hyperactive LSD kangaroo) has a tiny sense of decency. To her, for him, it's just a question that wants to be answered. It seems so logical, like it's a thing that should have happened. She's heard that he's the general here, after all, she's heard that he is someone who has done some things. And don't those types usually end up ruling? Couldn't he have ruled alongside mother? Shouldn't he have ruled alongside mother? She doesn't know. But she wants to find out.

VALKERINE!

tomboy daughter of librette & covet