05-06-2016, 01:24 PM
I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF
It’s not so much that the stallion reeks of the Chamber (and even then, her feelings about its members are mixed. It is only Lupei she despises with every fiber of her being, and would kill without a moment’s hesitation), but that she does not easily trust anyone. A healthy skepticism, along with a cool head, are the foundation of her personality. Trust (insert comment here about abandonment issues) does not come easily to the Iron Queen.
Her flint-like gaze studies the ageing stallion silently, listening to his story without a flicker of emotion. At the appropriate time, her eyes wander to his tattoo, and notes the name Pomona. She remembers the mare, vaguely, though the Khaleesi hasn’t personally seen her in years. If she had, she might be able to put a more distinct image to the name, but right now all she can remember is that the woman had wings made of light. She believes. So many have come and gone. It is the way of the Jungle.
A manservant, huh? Well they don’t have many of those - or any, actually - and hadn’t for awhile. Herds are popping up left and right and Lagertha doesn’t believe that many stallions would ‘sacrifice’ that freedom (nevermind the double standard, that’s a whole other story) to stay with the mare they love. Then the filly detaches herself from her guardian and wanders over, sticking her nose where milk would be if Lagertha were a mother. She isn’t, of course. And though she may be stern and logical, the Iron Lady isn’t cruel. Her nose dips down to nudge the top of the filly’s head gently, blowing her warm breath on it in greeting. “She’s fine. I can’t help her, though. I haven’t had children in awhile.”
Kavi tries to plead his case, and she cuts him off before it becomes pathetic. “I know. You’re old and you bear no fresh wounds. At your age, it would take more time than usual to heal.” Her tail swishes back and forth, whisking away the flies and the heat. “You are both welcome to stay, Kavi. I am Lagertha, Queen of the Jungle. If anyone gives you trouble, tell them you have my permission to be here.” She pauses, and feels the need to say the next part, just because he was from the Chamber. “Keep in mind that if anything does happen, you will answer to me, and I am not known for my leniency. Now if you will excuse me - ”
Lagertha smiles thinly. It is not a threat, it is a promise. She can’t be too careful these days. She continues on her way, past the duo, who now have free reign in her slowly healing home.
Her flint-like gaze studies the ageing stallion silently, listening to his story without a flicker of emotion. At the appropriate time, her eyes wander to his tattoo, and notes the name Pomona. She remembers the mare, vaguely, though the Khaleesi hasn’t personally seen her in years. If she had, she might be able to put a more distinct image to the name, but right now all she can remember is that the woman had wings made of light. She believes. So many have come and gone. It is the way of the Jungle.
A manservant, huh? Well they don’t have many of those - or any, actually - and hadn’t for awhile. Herds are popping up left and right and Lagertha doesn’t believe that many stallions would ‘sacrifice’ that freedom (nevermind the double standard, that’s a whole other story) to stay with the mare they love. Then the filly detaches herself from her guardian and wanders over, sticking her nose where milk would be if Lagertha were a mother. She isn’t, of course. And though she may be stern and logical, the Iron Lady isn’t cruel. Her nose dips down to nudge the top of the filly’s head gently, blowing her warm breath on it in greeting. “She’s fine. I can’t help her, though. I haven’t had children in awhile.”
Kavi tries to plead his case, and she cuts him off before it becomes pathetic. “I know. You’re old and you bear no fresh wounds. At your age, it would take more time than usual to heal.” Her tail swishes back and forth, whisking away the flies and the heat. “You are both welcome to stay, Kavi. I am Lagertha, Queen of the Jungle. If anyone gives you trouble, tell them you have my permission to be here.” She pauses, and feels the need to say the next part, just because he was from the Chamber. “Keep in mind that if anything does happen, you will answer to me, and I am not known for my leniency. Now if you will excuse me - ”
Lagertha smiles thinly. It is not a threat, it is a promise. She can’t be too careful these days. She continues on her way, past the duo, who now have free reign in her slowly healing home.
Lagertha
Warrior Queen of the Amazons