05-11-2016, 03:22 PM
I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF
If Lagertha were to reach back, deep into the recesses of her memory, she might be able to find someone she would prefer not to face again. But afraid? No, no one she is afraid to face. Perhaps that’s because she’s kept her personal relationships to a minimum, or perhaps it’s because she’s simply unafraid of the truth. Hatred does not scare her, whether it is from a kingdom or an individual. The gray mare is well aware that there are those who dislike her with a fervent intensity, those who disagree with the way she runs her kingdom and her ambitious nature. Let them. She’d served under a Khaleesi she never respected, and if they don’t have the willpower to do the same, she doesn’t want them there.
The irony is that Lagertha and Scorch were both excessively ambitious. It’s just plain stupid to think they’re different. The actual difference is that Scorch plotted for her children. Lagertha plotted for the Jungle.
The edge of her dangerously beautiful home is slowly creeping outward again, though the edges are still thin and ragged. The light filters through the canopy in bigger splotches, giving her an unusual view of the sky. A flash of gold catches the corner of her eye, and she yanks her head around. There, in the distance, it comes again. At the edge of the trees. Lagertha squints, but there is nothing more than the glint of the sun off of something, so she turns to investigate it. It takes very little time from the moment Tiphon lands, to when Lagertha breaches the woodline.
My, is she surprised. They must have missed each other while she was visiting the Dale. There’s no way he can miss the slightly surprised look on her face as she ventures towards him. “Tiphon," she says in greeting, “It’s been years.” And it has. The truth is that her thoughts never once turned to the gold and white stallion after Ramiel took the Dalean throne. Dalten has made an effort to stay away, and without him, they have very little in common. Nevertheless, he is powerful and they had once worked together - so she has nothing but goodwill for him. “What brings you here?”
The irony is that Lagertha and Scorch were both excessively ambitious. It’s just plain stupid to think they’re different. The actual difference is that Scorch plotted for her children. Lagertha plotted for the Jungle.
The edge of her dangerously beautiful home is slowly creeping outward again, though the edges are still thin and ragged. The light filters through the canopy in bigger splotches, giving her an unusual view of the sky. A flash of gold catches the corner of her eye, and she yanks her head around. There, in the distance, it comes again. At the edge of the trees. Lagertha squints, but there is nothing more than the glint of the sun off of something, so she turns to investigate it. It takes very little time from the moment Tiphon lands, to when Lagertha breaches the woodline.
My, is she surprised. They must have missed each other while she was visiting the Dale. There’s no way he can miss the slightly surprised look on her face as she ventures towards him. “Tiphon," she says in greeting, “It’s been years.” And it has. The truth is that her thoughts never once turned to the gold and white stallion after Ramiel took the Dalean throne. Dalten has made an effort to stay away, and without him, they have very little in common. Nevertheless, he is powerful and they had once worked together - so she has nothing but goodwill for him. “What brings you here?”
Lagertha
Warrior Queen of the Amazons