He understands the need to count on oneself above all.
He’s been a hermit living on the edge of the world. He’s been a loner shunning the advances of both conversation and friendship put forth by others. But while the concentric circle of his life had contained only himself for quite a lengthy stretch of time, it had never been for a lack of trust. Unlike Lagertha, it seems. Cultivating relationships is all fine and good, but if you can’t trust others wholly and completely at the end of the day, how much leverage do you really have? At some point, Crito believes you have to place more than a kernel of belief in another’s hands to really advance. You have to let go and trust the process completely, heart and soul.
Maybe the steel lady isn’t ready for that kind of commitment. Hell, Crito himself hadn’t been ready until long after the prime of his life, once the grey started creeping further and further along his body. Then and only then had he realized how stagnant he’d been. He’d had to change (well he didn’t have to, but he wanted to, and that was an important difference). He’d had to adapt and compromise his enduring grudges. It had seemed difficult, even impossible at the time, but he had done it. And now, he is an aged man with some promise in his future.
Before, there had been only a lonely mountain cave waiting for his old bones to turn to dust.
“Siblings teach us more about ourselves than anything else.” He says, referencing Lagertha’s comment on her family. “Mostly, they teach us what not to do.” A toothy grin stretches across his mouth. Her brothers sounded as difficult as Scorch had been as a youngster (and as a teenager, and as an adult…). The grey woman’s timeline was wonky, though. Unless her dam had borne her at a very advanced age – or on her deathbed, even - it seemed too much time between. Not that he knows anything about such womanly matters. He doesn’t want to pry, but his curiosity gets the better of him. “Decades?”
Her gaze turns critical then, reading into his commentary on her own ambitions. Perhaps he’s been digging a little too deeply on his quest for information; perhaps she is aware more than she’s letting on. “I am a diplomat. Sometimes my work life carries over into my personal life.” Crito smiles coyly, because it is a game as much as it is life. Why shouldn’t their meetings be enjoyable and fruitful at the same time? He concedes that it might have come on a little strong, however. “Feel free to intimidate me with your own warrior skills if the need arises.” He mock winces, just in case she decides to take him up on his offer. Although really, he might rather enjoy it.
C R I T O
king's hand of the tundra