Lagertha / all kingdom.

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

Something’s not right. She’s been through this twice already; the swelling sides, the obnoxious appetite, and the complete exhaustion from the moment her dragon eyes opened to the glorious moment they could close. Twins were to her what snow is to coniferous trees; with this pair however, something is legitimately wrong.

You see, her belly has grown incredibly (the small tongues of flames strangely distorted on the stretched skin), but her appetite remains as small as the ones she experienced with singlets. And while increasingly tired, she has not yet hit the “low.” The absolute bottom, if you will. The morning where, instead of weaving her way to the border to patrol, she slinks into the shadowy coolness of a nearby cave to suffer in silence for a few glorious hours.

That day? It has not come yet.
And she’s beginning to worry.

Scorch wakes up one morning as she always does, an hour before the first true ray of sunlight. Her eyes (sickly blue), meet the fortress of her kingdom, of the mighty Jungle. And as a proud smile flickers across her charred lips, a pain slices across her insides. There one moment, gone the next.

She thinks nothing of it for days.
When the slices become jolts and then aches, a frenzy takes over her.

The Khaleesi has been gone perhaps more than could be deemed responsible for a leader, and with no public excuse. Instead of meeting her queenly duties, Scorch hides, bathing in warm waters in the hopes of suppressing the attacks. Whence they make an appearance, however, Scorch physically stumbles, or keels over, eyes clenched, breath heavy. Sometimes the pain lasts for nearly a minute; sometimes the pain comes back repeatedly. Sometimes sweat drenches her skin, and she wonders if the children will ever survive birth; sometimes she feels so cold, she swears she travelled to the Tundra in her sleep.

This morning, some resemblance of straight thought patterns develop within her. With fumbling hooves, the once mighty Scorch searches for Lagertha, moving carefully through the Jungle, terrified of the pain, of the damage which may be being done to her children. Miraculously, she makes the journey without a clenching of her guts. Breathing heavily – for she hasn’t been eating well, and it shows in her compressed ribs and bloated stomach – Scorch scents the woman whom she seeks.

“Lagertha,” She calls, failing to hide the feebleness of her tones. “Lagertha,” Quietly now, veiling the fear and pain as Scorch slowly closes the space between them. Swallowing and gathering her thoughts, the sickly Khaleesi concentrates on standing straight, breathing normally, and clearing the feverish glaze from her eyes.

“I’m sick.” She states simply, too hazed to put her problem more eloquently. “My children… Something’s wrong.” Her head turns slowly to caress her right side; when a light pain brushes against her, Scorch flinches away, an invisible (magical) barrier separating her from her daughters. Looking back up to Lagertha through cloudy pale yellow eyes, she attempts a hard expression and knows it fails horribly.

“The Jungle – She wants you, and I do too.” Eyes tingling with tears, they nearly drop to the earth, but something of the Khaleesi’s back bone remains, and she holds the Jaqqa’s gaze. “Will you help me?” A pause, caused by the lump in her throat and the dullness behind her eyes. “I know it’s not appealing to you to help me, but I can’t… I need to concentrate on living, and nursing the children to health when they’re born.” Tail swishing weakly, Scorch tries on a sad smile, only to throw it away and succumb to the terror.

“The Jungle’s yours, Lagertha. I know you want her, so I won’t take no for an answer. Congratulati--” Head dropping as a surge of pain claims her abdomen, Scorch allows the word to fade into oblivion. Leaning suddenly against a strategically close tree, the ex-Khaleesi looks up through dripping sweat to the gray warrior and hisses through clenched teeth: “Call them. Tell them. I’ll be,” She glances towards an overhanging boulder not far off, “There.”

Pride crushed, children in danger, and tears stinging angrily into her sockets, Scorch hobbles to the shadows. Eyes closing, the once-legendary woman leans against the cool stone, waiting for the inevitable call of the new Khaleesi Lagertha.

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

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idrk what this is. highschool started and I decided there's no point waiting til mid september if I can barely take care of myself irl. I'll be around though friends. It was a really, really good time with all of you. Much love to my Zons; Scorch and I were honoured to lead you.