07-06-2016, 04:01 PM
I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF
The truth is that Lagertha had written Riva off, just like she had many others. It wasn’t a big deal. She would never admit that she’d had hopes for the angry little paint, which meant she saved face in the long run. It goes along with the ‘if you want anything done right, do it yourself’ philosophy. Don’t get your hopes up and you won’t be disappointed. It’s a practice that works with children and lovers and kingdom mates. Everyone, really.
They all disappoint her in the end. Hell, Lagertha even disappoints herself at times.
You’d think she would learn to lower her standards, but that would be something akin to giving up. This Khaleesi does not give up. She will not go gentle into that good night, and she will rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Currently, the iron gray Queen is pondering a rumor that the Gates has a new King, and what exactly that means for the Jungle. This is what she often thinks of - alliances, the ever-shifting puzzle pieces that often have edges designed more to poke and prod than lay quietly in tandem. She often wishes Prague would wake, or that Rhy were still here, and her heart still twists painfully when she thinks of Anguisette. It’s kind of lonely at the top. No one ever told her that. As a result, Lagertha has lately welcomed any and all distractions, because that usually meant that one of the Sisters wanted to talk. This time, the interrupter is a pleasant surprise.
She shorts sharply - half laugh, half sound of disbelief - when she recognizes the voice. “Riva,” she says in greeting. “Well I’m glad you learned your lesson. The look on your face is very reassuring. Like it just might be a fate worse than death.” She refrains from asking if the woman wants to take the oath and the tattoos - that might be jumping the gun. Shouldn’t appear too eager, you know? Instead, she shrugs. “Not much. Counting tree frogs and butterflies. Eating stallions alive. Having opinions. The usual.” She grins cheekily, because the truth of the matter again, is that not much has happened in the past two years. Her eyes follow the mare’s gaze to a rather large python that is crawling over the roots of a tree.
“Don’t worry. You can run faster than it can slither…” she pauses a looks up with a pensive expression. “I think. But if the Jungle hasn’t eaten you alive by now, you’ll be fine.”
They all disappoint her in the end. Hell, Lagertha even disappoints herself at times.
You’d think she would learn to lower her standards, but that would be something akin to giving up. This Khaleesi does not give up. She will not go gentle into that good night, and she will rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Currently, the iron gray Queen is pondering a rumor that the Gates has a new King, and what exactly that means for the Jungle. This is what she often thinks of - alliances, the ever-shifting puzzle pieces that often have edges designed more to poke and prod than lay quietly in tandem. She often wishes Prague would wake, or that Rhy were still here, and her heart still twists painfully when she thinks of Anguisette. It’s kind of lonely at the top. No one ever told her that. As a result, Lagertha has lately welcomed any and all distractions, because that usually meant that one of the Sisters wanted to talk. This time, the interrupter is a pleasant surprise.
She shorts sharply - half laugh, half sound of disbelief - when she recognizes the voice. “Riva,” she says in greeting. “Well I’m glad you learned your lesson. The look on your face is very reassuring. Like it just might be a fate worse than death.” She refrains from asking if the woman wants to take the oath and the tattoos - that might be jumping the gun. Shouldn’t appear too eager, you know? Instead, she shrugs. “Not much. Counting tree frogs and butterflies. Eating stallions alive. Having opinions. The usual.” She grins cheekily, because the truth of the matter again, is that not much has happened in the past two years. Her eyes follow the mare’s gaze to a rather large python that is crawling over the roots of a tree.
“Don’t worry. You can run faster than it can slither…” she pauses a looks up with a pensive expression. “I think. But if the Jungle hasn’t eaten you alive by now, you’ll be fine.”
Lagertha
Warrior Queen of the Amazons
i'm sorry, i don't know where i'm going with this :/