don't you dare forget; magnus, please.

[magnus]

magnus

howling ghosts, they reappear
in mountains that are stacked with fear

He grins at her smile, at her blushing, but doesn’t speak of it. Let the lady have her secrets. Instead he averts his eyes for a moment, staring toward the horizon and the birds that swam in the air above them, their feathers bright and their calls lilting. It was only when she directed another questions his way that he dropped his gaze, angling his head toward her. “Nothing like that, I’m afraid.” He rolled his shoulders and gave a crooked smile. “I have recently been granted immortality, but that has been the extent of the magic bestowed upon me. I do not shine nearly as bright.” Not that he minded. He liked that throughout his life he had to rely upon his wits, the strength of his back, his work ethic. It had made him stronger for it.

At her request, he just dips his head. “That sounds perfectly lovely. After you.”

The truth was that Magnus was his best in the company of women. He had grown up amongst them and his closest friends throughout the years were females. The strongest warriors he had ever known had been women (Lagertha, Ellyse, Twinge, Liberette), and the smartest diplomats. They simply drew out the best in him, and he cherished them for it. So he embraced this camaraderie with Epithet, enjoyed it thoroughly.

However, he was quiet as he led her down to the coast, as the ground beneath them shifted, the water lapping up peacefully along the shore. Grinning, he looked over his shoulder and gave a playful half-rear, the golden sand spraying slightly. “Race you,” he challenged, knowing full well that she could shift into any number of animals who could easily overtake him. But knowing it was impossible was half the fun.

but you're a king and I'm a lionheart