02-04-2016, 05:25 PM
I am iron and I forge myself
Children will always be children, and therefore will never be taken seriously. The heavens could open above them and Lagertha would probably just roll her eyes in annoyance. It frequently rains here. It is hot, and humid, and one more torrential downpour won’t matter in the long run.
The thing about royalty is that it rarely lasts. All dynasties eventually fall. The only legacy that lasts are the children one leaves behind. Everything else is ash and dust. Memories fade. Quite frankly, she’s surprised to find the Tundra men on her doorstep, considering how long ago their conversation was. Really, their journey is moot if they don’t have one of Hurricane’s daughters with them. Unless this is about something other than children. Which it could be… Lagertha is not a mind reader, after all.
She recognizes the stallion by the white on his legs as the colt she once pretended to steal, in order to grab a King’s attention. A wry grin spreads across her face, as she chuckles briefly. “Nihlus. You’ve grown.” Lagertha has changed as well; her horns are gone, replaced by an expansion of tattoos, and little else. Her gifts are hidden. She glances beyond Nihlus and spots Hurricane, whom she greets with a simple nod. “I imagine this is more than just a social call?” She leaves it at that, allowing the menfolk to explain their presence as she settles in to listen.
The thing about royalty is that it rarely lasts. All dynasties eventually fall. The only legacy that lasts are the children one leaves behind. Everything else is ash and dust. Memories fade. Quite frankly, she’s surprised to find the Tundra men on her doorstep, considering how long ago their conversation was. Really, their journey is moot if they don’t have one of Hurricane’s daughters with them. Unless this is about something other than children. Which it could be… Lagertha is not a mind reader, after all.
She recognizes the stallion by the white on his legs as the colt she once pretended to steal, in order to grab a King’s attention. A wry grin spreads across her face, as she chuckles briefly. “Nihlus. You’ve grown.” Lagertha has changed as well; her horns are gone, replaced by an expansion of tattoos, and little else. Her gifts are hidden. She glances beyond Nihlus and spots Hurricane, whom she greets with a simple nod. “I imagine this is more than just a social call?” She leaves it at that, allowing the menfolk to explain their presence as she settles in to listen.
Lagertha
warrior queen of the amazons