02-04-2018, 08:58 PM
Ivar does not know how close his thoughts mirror Heda’s. It makes sense, after all; he has spent most of his life at the golden mare’s side. She needs protection, she and their child Castile has sworn he will keep them safe, and Ivar knows the piebald stallion will keep his word.
Still, he lingers at the edge of the kingdom, knowing that the time will come soon. When the coppery scent of blood reaches his questing nostrils, he knows that it has. Ivar knows the hill of Loess better than any other. He has roved them for years, patrolling the kingdom, keeping it safe. He has recruited (even if they are only herd mares), he has grown Loess and built and renewed alliances. He has given his blood, sweat, and tears to this kingdom…and now he will give them a successor.
He watches from the quiet of a thickest as Heda encourages their child to stand. The girl looks like her mother, pointed with blue and covered in soft gold. She does not look like him, not in the way Lothbrok does. There is no doubt that his scaled son from his kelpie queen is his own. More proof, he decides as he looks at the girl’s soft and penetrable hide.
She does not belong in the water (though he has considered taking her away with him). No, he realizes, she belongs here with her mother, here in this kingdom that both her parents ruled. Ivar remembers the tales of his childhood, of a family that ruled over all of Beqanna. He has no such dreams, he never has. Yet there is something, some spark of possession that he will never quell.
He’ll give Loess to the girl, he decides. A kingdom is a fitting replacement for a father. Isn’t it?
He knows that Heda will guide her, and Castile as well. Regents, he recalls the term, rulers for a monarch that cannot govern for themselves. One day, perhaps his daughter will know enough to rule in her own right. Until then, he does not doubt the capabilities of his friend and his former wife.
Ivar has been away from the sea too long. It calls to him, and his mate does as well. Isobell, the virgin princess who he had slaughtered and his gift revived. She is not the temptress that Heda thinks her, but he would not dare to tell her so. instead, he leaves them the way that he had always intended to - quietly and without fanfare.
He returns to the sea without a word, with no intention to return to Loess.
Still, he lingers at the edge of the kingdom, knowing that the time will come soon. When the coppery scent of blood reaches his questing nostrils, he knows that it has. Ivar knows the hill of Loess better than any other. He has roved them for years, patrolling the kingdom, keeping it safe. He has recruited (even if they are only herd mares), he has grown Loess and built and renewed alliances. He has given his blood, sweat, and tears to this kingdom…and now he will give them a successor.
He watches from the quiet of a thickest as Heda encourages their child to stand. The girl looks like her mother, pointed with blue and covered in soft gold. She does not look like him, not in the way Lothbrok does. There is no doubt that his scaled son from his kelpie queen is his own. More proof, he decides as he looks at the girl’s soft and penetrable hide.
She does not belong in the water (though he has considered taking her away with him). No, he realizes, she belongs here with her mother, here in this kingdom that both her parents ruled. Ivar remembers the tales of his childhood, of a family that ruled over all of Beqanna. He has no such dreams, he never has. Yet there is something, some spark of possession that he will never quell.
He’ll give Loess to the girl, he decides. A kingdom is a fitting replacement for a father. Isn’t it?
He knows that Heda will guide her, and Castile as well. Regents, he recalls the term, rulers for a monarch that cannot govern for themselves. One day, perhaps his daughter will know enough to rule in her own right. Until then, he does not doubt the capabilities of his friend and his former wife.
Ivar has been away from the sea too long. It calls to him, and his mate does as well. Isobell, the virgin princess who he had slaughtered and his gift revived. She is not the temptress that Heda thinks her, but he would not dare to tell her so. instead, he leaves them the way that he had always intended to - quietly and without fanfare.
He returns to the sea without a word, with no intention to return to Loess.