and now the storm is coming in -- lagertha

[Eight]

no matter what they say, I am still the king

A lady can never catch a break, hm? Your life has just been one tumultuous wave after the other – a new queen for the Jungle, a tiff with the Tundra, the kidnapping of a king. My, my, you have been busy. What now? What will the mighty and powerful Lagertha get her nose into next?
It is no surprise you do not take easily to Eight’s probing in your mind – not all are accustomed to the pin prick of thoughts dangling through their domes. Especially an Amazon such as you – she femme, male hating club and all. Eight closes his eyes languidly as the image of your irritation clouds his mind. And yet, even with the intrusion, you decide to speak back to him (albeit with feistiness).
Quietly, again shrouding any possibility of others to eavesdrop (or, minddrop), he speaks To the meadow, dear woman.
----
In the meadow, he waits. It would not be hard for you to find him. With the use of his magic, he had faded all other equines in the meadow – it was only he who you could see (easy enough, right?). When you approach, he nods his head in greeting. “Lagertha, so kind of you to come. I believe there’s some discussions we should have.” There is no need to explain what had happened throughout the Tundra mix up, Eight read it through your mind (and others) like a book- and he lets you know this through his mind, a soft feeling of understanding spreading throughout. “However, the state of the Amazons is something I’d like to confer with you about.” He pauses, letting you adjust to the pace of conversation and mind matter. “Is Scorch still trampling upon the world with her dragon feet? Is there still distaste between her and you?” The ‘you’ in question was not just the proverbial ‘Lagertha’, but Rhy, and a trickle of other Amazonians who didn’t quite like the taste of brashness and pride of a queen.

∞

and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in

[Lagertha]

Whatever breaks this lady catches is entirely of her own doing; her own ingenuity and perseverance, her own wily ways, and her own blood and sweat. She has not yet called upon Tiphon to support his son, and she has not yet asked Rhy to drawn in her cousin to their half-formed thoughts.

She might soon. No one is getting any younger. And Scorch doesn’t seem to be making any headway.

Careful about the man-hating, though. Lagertha doesn’t hate men, she just hasn’t found many who are up to her standards. She hasn’t found one who can best her yet. To be sure, there are some: the magicians, and anyone with a particularly vicious trait. She’d like to test Brennen on the battlefield again - but this time on friendly terms. No, ‘man-hating’ is not her modus operandi, she’s just done nothing to dissuade that appearance. And she isn’t going to do so any time soon.

She is sure it is either trickery or magic that makes him the sole individual in a meadow that is usually teeming with the unambitious and lazy (can you hear the disdain she has for the kingdomless? it must be ringing in his ears). Lagertha approaches cautiously, dark eyes narrowed in slight suspicion, though all nerves seem to be on alert. The stallion (black, winged and horned, and yet still unknown, because she has never been to the Valley) greets her by name (no surprise there, he found her mind) and then dives right in.

Lagertha is startled, taking a moment or two before to try and figure out what exactly is going on. He smells of trees and dirt and the Valley. He speaks as if he knows more than he should (she was sure no one was around when The General and The Ambassador spoke of treason). She licks her gray lips and though it seems as if he could easily pluck her true thoughts from her mind, she tries to play the part of a diplomat, though both of them know she is nothing of the sort. “I have some questions of my own, oh mysterious one. First… I would like to know who I’m talking to. Smell tells me you’re from the Valley, and your… abilities tell me you must be very powerful, so I’m going to go ahead and guess that you’re the magician King. Or else they have some new mind-reader.” It’s possible, she isn’t always up on the going-ons of the rest of Beqanna. “Second… if you know of my feelings for Scorch, then you know I still think I would be a better Queen. That ambition isn’t going to fade.” Again, the gray woman pauses, for despite that feeling of understanding (alien, feels unnatural), it is in her nature to be distrustful. After all, history repeats itself.

“Third… I have no intention of betraying my sisters. Scorch, on the other hand, can go fuck herself.”

She’s not stupid. He came to her for a reason. “So what are you planning? And how does it benefit me?” It probably isn’t the best idea to test and poke and prod a magician. But Lagertha has a big set of lady balls, and they often try to speak for themselves.