I’m a queen bee - any

[magnus]

you and I both know that the house is haunted
and you and I both know that the ghost is me

Magnus finds that he is comfortable for the first time in a while, the self-deprecating humor having just enough truth in it that he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. It was nice when he did not strive so hard for that white knight ideal that he could never quite catch. Smiling easily at the company surrounding him, he nodded toward Fennick. “There are worse gatherings,” his smile is warm, the buckskin winking one gold-flecked eye toward the other. He wouldn’t forget the kindness Fennick had shown him.

Of course, such ease does not always last, and it evaporates at the approach of the red-eyed stallion. If only Magnus knew Gryffen’s mother, one of his dear friends, or his father, one of his bitterest enemies. All that the stallion knows is that he is instantly on edge, and he narrows his gaze slightly, taking in the winged wolf. He knew that he had a tendency to jump to the offensive quickly, but a hard life had taught him to trust his instincts—and he was rarely wrong. But he doesn’t say anything regarding his suspicions; he just tucks it away, shifting so he could keep an eye on the red-eyed wolf a little easier.

Forcing himself to relax, he gave a shadow of a smile to the mare he had approached. “Sorry for spooking you like that,” he dipped his handsome head in apology. “I should have announced myself.” He takes a second to consider her question before answering quite honestly, “It took me a long time to accept the broken edges of myself. I suppose it’s easier to admit it than hate myself for it.” Not that he didn’t fall into the trap of self-loathing from time to time (more often than he cared to admit), but he was old enough to try. Listening with perked ears, he spoke up when she spoke of her father, “I take it your father was a herd stallion?” Genuine interest laces his husky voice. “Are you looking for a herd to join yourself?”

MAGNUS

once general. once lord. once king.