DESOLATION COMES UPON THE SKY - lagertha

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

Ah yes, what a headache Errant has caused! One reality where Nihlus has come; another where Mountain comes; one where she is actually interested in Lagertha’s doings, and not furious; another where she’s furious, but simply because she’s dreadfully confused. Which perhaps a Queen should not be, but then again, a King should not come pouting into her queendom.
 
Errant and Lagertha follow, facts of which cause the flames on her skin to flicker dangerously. Listening with one ear to Mountain’s little rant, Scorch glares first at her Jakka and then at her brother. What the hell is going on here?” Her cacophonous dragon eyes clearly ask. When Errant’s voice overwhelms Mountain’s, she does not grow any more understanding for the situation, but perhaps more of a resolve. More than anything, Scorch needs – and wants – to prove her loyalty to her brother and the Tundra.
 
Errant excuses himself while Scorch returns her scrutinizing gaze to Mountain. Lagertha follows the stallion, and without any notice of the Queen’s, they disappear completely. Well, to hell with them. To hell with everyone. By the time she’s sent them both of with a small dip of her head – a show of loyalty, if you will – it’s been plenty a minute since Mountain’s original bombardment of questions. Well, to hell with him too.
 
”A child who happens to be my grandson,” She comments irrelevantly, though her tones are clipped. Lagertha had the cheek to pick out her offspring out of all the colts in the Tundra, or even of the men, the bastard. Scorch should have thought of doing shit like that decades ago. ”Tell me, Mountain. Did you consider that perhaps my bloodrider - the false title taste foul in her mouth - ”Was attempting to reunite us?” her large ears tip backwards slowly. ”Who are you to prevent family from being just that – a family?”

Her lips peel back, revealing razor sharp teeth – lethal teeth. Rage fills her – Mountain would be able to tell by the flicker of her flames and the chaos of colour within her eyes – but it is not the rage which she portrays with her words. She is far more angry that she knows not what is happening beyond this little thicket of theirs, of why she has to babysit the two year old who really fucking wants those cupcakes.

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle