"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
To say I've missed the Jungle would be an understatement too vast to elaborate on. I visited, per the agreement, but it just wasn't the same. My bed at night was under a sky filled with stars and pine boughs, an openness I found slightly disconcerting. I did my best to stay busy; observing and talking, learning more about Beqanna and her kingdoms than I ever had in the jungle. My mother had been wise.
I was still disgruntled at my captivity, but only mildly. I'd wanted the chance to prove myself and my mother had given it to me, turning a devastating situation into an opportunity.
She is always doing annoyingly clever things like that. I grin to myself, glancing around our usual spots to look for her, eager to reconnect. Of my brother, I know so little, and of my mother, there are still worlds of information I want to have.
I pick my way through the vine laden ground, tripping more than I would like. My feet are out of practice. I am sure they will become nimble again, soon, but it annoys me and I snort. I feel foolish almost instantly. Grumping at plants is not exactly princess or diplomat behavior.
Of course, the new curves and lines to my body don't make coordination that much easier either. I've grown up and filled out and I know I should be considered an adult, but I still feel very young. And other than lengthening and growing, and the black of my coat fading to a dirty gray roan, I don' think much about me has changed.
In the end, Lagertha is where I expected her to be, at the heart of the kingdom taking advantage of what must be one of her very brief moments of solitude.
I clear my throat and widen my eyes in a playful apology. “You must be the Khaleesi. I'm sorry I've wandered miles into your territory but I just couldn't help myself. I've heard how much you love trespassers.” A grin breaks across my face and I whicker my amusement. “Hey mom. I've missed you.”
I feel a small pang of guilt for disturbing her. Concern washes across my features as I move closer to nuzzle her. “I'm sorry to bother you; I'm sure you've a million things to do. I've seen Vi, but I wanted to see you as soon as I could.” I glance around as the rising sun penetrates through the vines, bathing the small clearing in a haze of golden-green light. I sigh, content. “The Valley has nothing on our kingdom, mama.”
The yearling boy spends most of his days exploring the innermost reaches of his Jungle home. He knows all of the vine-laced paths and can follow them with ease afforded to him by his upbringing. He is drawn to the water and its multitude of sources: the springs, the creeks, and the winding, warm river. Mother has told him to be cautious of this last one; he knows of the creatures that lurk within the depths, waiting for foolish boys to stick their feet in without care. Once, he saw a caiman pull in one such careless capybara who wandered too close to the water’s edge. It hadn’t completely put an end to his desire to discover each and every stream, but it had certainly slowed him down for a while – probably to his benefit. He finds company with the other animals sometimes (and the jaguar spirit on rare occasions), but he is far more interested in his fellow horses.
Growing up in a land of warrior women on the brink of war has taught him more than the natural world around him ever could. And while the tangled, thorny forest can distract him for days on end, Vidar always finds himself returning eagerly to the preparations happening at the kingdom’s center. There is an urgency in the mares that he doesn’t realize is new. It is a pulsing, tangible hum in the air that has been there since the day he was born. He flourishes on it, thrives on the tension and flurry of activity that keeps a wild yearling from growing bored. It serves another purpose, too, though he doesn’t realize it. Lagertha is as busy as any Khaleesi at the head of an army should be. She doesn’t have the luxury of spending each and every moment with her son. The parade of Sisters new and old doubles as a distraction for this very problem; Vidar doesn’t lament the lost time with his dam because he knows no different.
But there is one horse he does miss.
And even though he’s never met her, mother’s ample stories and praise is enough to make them not seem like total strangers. So when her year-long sentence is up (and he knows, because he’s counted the days right alongside mother) he moves past the press of bodies to find her. The khaleesi is already there, awaiting the return of her first daughter. Vidar steps next to her, watching and waiting the dark curtain of the jungle to release her to them. And when it does, when she steps through into the clearing beyond, he is ready. “Anguisette!” He lets her greet their hulking grey dam first before moving forward himself. Eagerness softens his normally rigid face; emotion warms his traditionally stony voice. If anything can bolster the spirits of the Sisters before the war, it will be the return of its princess. “Err, Sette?” Vidar looks to Lagertha for confirmation. “Can I call you that, sister?”
His storm-grey eyes flick back towards the girl, curiosity and sibling-worship lighting within them. She’s been all the way to the Valley and lived there by herself. What other adventures has she already partaken in at such a young age? Pride swells in his chest like the river after rain when she says that the Amazons are the better kingdom. Of course they are, with their mother at the helm! “Was it frightening, the Valley?” He asks, then looks between the both of them quickly, not wanting them to think he was being cowardly. “I mean, do you think we can beat them? I’d fight them if they came back for you.” He says it with all the seriousness and courage of any young boy, though he looks guiltily back at Lagertha. Surely, this is a war he will not be invited to.
Don’t tell anyone, but Lagertha actually likes her kids. I know, it’s shocking that the Warrior Queen, the Iron Lady, the woman who periodically threatens to run visiting diplomats through – has a soft spot for her children. She has silently counted the days of the year until Sette returned to the Jungle, meanwhile trying to teach Vidar the things she thinks he needs to know, and doing her best to give him the attention she’d never given Dalten. If there is one regret, it is that her firstborn would never be quite like the rest (not that there will be many more… but she does have all the time in the world) of her children. She’s learned her lesson. Don’t loan out your womb for political gain.
Today is the day. Today is the day that Anguisette returns. Today is a day just like any other – but it isn’t, even though she forces herself to keep going through all the things she has to do instead of waiting at the border like an overprotective mother. Lagertha hates that feeling. It is contradictory to every bit of independence she’s instilled in Sette, to the very spirit of the Jungle’s women, it seems. And so she forces herself to wait for her daughter to come and find her instead. Vidar joins her shortly before Sette appears, and she presses her nose into the base of his neck, where it meets his spine. It’s kind of funny that both her biological and adopted child are roan. They could easily be one of Scorch’s brood – one of them is already a cousin. Sucks that he will eventually leave the Jungle… he is welcome to stay, of course, but she likes to think that his sire’s spirit means he will do great things elsewhere.
Lagertha grins and chuckles at the joke. “Careful girl, she growls playfull. “Or I might just have to run you through.” She is referring, of course, to her threat to Fennick when he came to claim her. It is a threat that remains in effect. Anyone who wanders this far into the Jungle without an escort (or the tattoos that are soon to reappear) will be facing the very real possibility of injury – even death – if they mess with the wrong Amazonian. Which basically means that they had better hope that some other sister finds them, and not the Khaleesi. “I’ve missed you too, little one who is not so little anymore.” Her adulthood is not lost on Lagertha’s observant eyes. It would be time for her to take the oath soon, though she’s known for a long time now that her daughter’s heart belongs unequivocally to their humid home.
She watches her children interact and quips saucily, “Of course they don’t. How many disappearing Kings and Queens have they had over the years?” She scoffs in the back of her throat. They may have apt leaders at the helm now, but it doesn’t mean that they have what it takes to beat the Amazons, let alone the Amazons and the Gates, and whomever else is bound to join them, now that the Gates no longer stands alone. “I think we can beat them. We just have to be better. And smarter. And well prepared.”
Her gaze turns to Anguistte. Speaking of being prepared… not that she wanted to cut this family bonding short, but information is information. She’d rather ask now than have to go track her down and find out later. The General in her takes over. “Did you discover any valuable information?” It was alright if she didn’t. That wasn’t the point of her excursion.
Just as my brother delights in me, so I am overjoyed to see him. I have always thought it would be nice to have a little sibling but I never questioned mother about it. She does everything in her own time, and so I kept quietly hopeful. But I was probably the most excited filly in the world when I found out she was expecting. It is perhaps odd that I rarely give much thought to the father, either of our fathers, but in the Jungle that doesn't matter. I can't imagine any stallion matching up to our mother, anyways.
I laugh, teasing. “I believe you. I've seen you in full battle armor and I wouldn't like to be against you.” I smile a little sadly. “I guess I'm not, mama, although I still feel like a little girl when I think about all the things I don't know. But I hope the Jungle finds me worthy enough.”
I turn my attention to my brother, then, my eyes lighting up eagerly.
“Vidar!” I nicker, all semblance at decorum lost. I prance around him like I am the yearling he is, nipping playfully at his mane. “Of course you can call me Sette, you goose. Anguisette seems like a bit of a mouthful for such a little squirt.” I grin to let him know I am teasing and then nuzzle him affectionately. “We have lots of time to make up for, little man.”
His question about the Valley brings me back to seriousness and I glance at mother.
“It was different with the wide open sky and wolf howls at night and that was frightening at times, but there's no merit to being brave if you have no fears, little man. And I believe you would defend me. Anyways, Fennick was kind and I never thought he or the others would hurt me.” I nudge him, half-inviting him to play before I turn to mother seriously, my shoulders straightening. I am her daughter but I am also her subject, and I have a duty to this kingdom. I am grateful to all the gods that my duty and my love are the same. “We can beat them, I think, but it isn't going to be easily won. I don't think I learned anything you don't already know. Straia and Gallows meet; I have the feeling they were pressing for an offensive but I have no concrete evidence. Aside from the Chamber's actions against the Gates, of course. Well, and Gallows turning the diplomat caste into an intelligence caste. I don't think those are exactly the actions of a peaceful nation. As well, the fire wall in the Valley is coming down.” I pause from my speech, a little embarrassed that I rambled on but not sure what could be useful. I flash mother an apologetic look. After a brief moment I meet her gaze with a determined look. “You will let me fight, won't you, Khaleesi?”
I want to do my part. A bit of me feels ashamed that I am eager to go to war. But most of me aches for the day when I can prove myself and the Jungle can show Beqanna that the warrior women are still a force to be reckoned with. That, of course, won't happen with my help if mother doesn't permit me. I try my best to look capable. We already had a slight disagreement about my visiting the Chamber and I ready myself to argue my case.
Lagertha fixes her daughter with a level stare, growing eerily still at her request. It is larger than the girl realizes. Whether she likes to admit it or not, Lagertha loves her little Sette best out of all of her children. It will probably be like this for all her daughters. Losing her would be absolutely devastating. On the other hand, she is Queen and Sette is a Princess, and is a member of the sisterhood. A member that wants to help, and the truth is that they are lacking a bit in that department.
Eventually she sighs and looks away, gazing into the Jungle as if she could find the right answer somewhere in the leafy green shadows. After a few very long moments, Lagertha comes to a decision and turns back to Sette, all business now. “Show me that I don’t have to worry about you, and you can come. You understand that I may have to lead whatever force we have, and all my focus must be on that. I can’t be thinking about you or second guessing myself. So go win some mocks and then we’ll talk. ” Her gaze flits to Vidar, and then back to Sette. “If something serious were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself.”
In an effort to lighten the mood, she nudges Vidar’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me you want to fight too, little man. There’s something else I need you to do when you get older. Something your father would want you to do.” This is probably the first time she’s ever mentioned Vidar’s father, though her old friend is occasionally on her mind. He disappeared after their coupling, and she wonders if he’s even still alive. It would be nice for him to see their son, but death waits for no one.
