((This rp is set after returning from the Viking to the Outlands.))
The days following that attack on the Outlands had passed in a blur for Hjalmar, so much so that he had been almost surprised when they'd walked back across their borders. He'd mostly gone through the motions of his return, snarling and putting his new thrall in her place before leaving her within his den. He didn't care if she raged within it -- if anything, maybe it would give him something interesting to come home to -- and he trusted Thulile to calm her and show her the ropes. He vaguely wondered if he should have perhaps introduced them to each other first, but whatever. He would cross that bridge later.
For now, the Reaver found himself wandering aimlessly towards the rocky cliffs on the outskirts of the pride. It was still taking some getting used to, this lack of half of his vision, but he was adamant that he needed no help. He should be proud of what he accomplished on this last outing, but mostly... he just felt bitter. It had never even occurred to him that he could lose an eye from a fight.
Now he was stuck with it. Or rather, without it.
Shaking his head, Hjalmar stalked to the top of a boulder and then slid down with a thump onto the cold surface. He didn't want to see anyone right now, not until he had come to terms with his situation; and yes, he would eventually. A Stormborn didn't let something like this hold them back (or at least that was what he kept telling himself). He just.... needed some time.
It was probably a good thing he had thralls then, to care for his den and attend to his needs. Else he would have become a slob on top of everything else.
With a sigh, he started to close his eyes -- eye -- and tried to block out the world.
Of course, that peace wasn't meant to last.
"Hjalmar?!"
Dreki'dido hadn't meant to run into him -- honestly, he was one of the last people she cared to come across on a normal day -- and her lip had curled at the sight of him when he first came into view. Oh great, that band was back and now she would likely have to endure his gloating on top of the bleak outlook for lionesses. Well, bleak to her, anyway. She was still rather sour that she had finally become a Reaver, had gotten a taste of the outside, only for it to be cruelly torn from her. Now she was nothing more than a glorified patrol guard.
A part of her had been entertaining the thought of becoming a Valkerie, though she just... she felt so tired of it all. Why did she have to prove herself above and beyond what a male could do, only to never be considered their equal? How was she ever to show herself as someone worthy of the Stormborn legacy?
It left her teeth gnashing at the thought.
To be fair to them both, Dreki had been coming to this spot to escape for the past month or two now, and he would have had no way of knowing that. She liked the sounds of crashing waves and salty water on her tongue; it soothed her. So seeing Hjalmar here now made her scowl.
That look was replaced with shock though as she drew closer and managed to round over to his front, enough to see.... the damage.
And gods, what damage it was! His face was sliced apart, his stomach missing chunks of fur and clearly still healing. She felt her paws go cold at the sight, and had exclaimed out loud in response, only to have to hold back her cringe as his eyes opened to reveal an eye missing.
.... She was happy now that she hadn't gone on that Viking, if this is what it would have happened to her. Maybe that was a bit vain of her to say, but it was true.
Hjalmar sneered at her as he saw who it was that had interrupted his silence. Wonderful, just what he needed right now.
"What?" he spat, "If you've come here to jeer, then you can turn around and piss off." He turned away after saying that, a dark look on his face. The lion assumed that she'd heard of his injury by now, and had their positions been reversed, he would have done the same. That didn't mean that he welcomed it now though.
Growling, he continued, though the bite in his words sounded as hollow as he felt at the moment, "I'll wear these scars with pride, because at least I was there to aid in their victory."
The old Dreki likely would have snarled and shot hateful words back at him, and she very nearly still did. However, despite the scowl on her face, she kept silent, watching him with a critical eye. The past few Vikings she had been on had mellowed her just a bit, something that she hadn't noticed happening until now -- and for the moment, she viewed his anger as something to be expected.
That said, she still snorted at his comment of pride. Yes, because the Stormborn had so much reason to deserve pride right now. It almost made her sick... And then she looked down as she realized where her thoughts were taking her. When had she grown so spiteful of her own home?
The tired lioness walked forward, turning her gaze away from Hjalmar and instead gazing out at sea.
The two remained silent after that, neither willing to speak to the other. It was probably the most peaceful moment between them in their history. Just as before though, it wasn't meant to last.
Dreki glanced at him from the corner of her eye, before grunting and saying softly, "I'm not here to make fun of you. For all our history, I can tell when there's a line not meant to be crossed." Which perhaps spoke something of each of their characters.
"... I actually come out here every day. It's... nice, and it makes it easier to just be without.... without...." Her ears pulled back against her head then and her gaze dropped to her paws. Without being judged for what I am, is what she'd almost said.
Hjalmar had been making a point to ignore her up until now, but her trailing thought had made his gaze shift over to her, a move that required him to tilt his head further to the side to actually see her. He had never seen her quite so vulnerable-looking in all their time together as rivals, and it left him intrigued as to what could have caused it.
He had never really been known for his tact though, and with a scoff, he muttered, "Without what? What could you possibly have to be worried about right now?" Because from where he was standing, she was still perfectly in tact, had likely gone on a few raids and was probably making her way up in the world.
He hadn't been paying attention to any of the news on the wind, any of the changes that the Stormborn had undergone.
So of course, Dreki sneered back at him, disgust evident on her face, and she had to turn herself away and take a deep breath before she spoke. Not everyone knew of what had happened yet, and she was trying to be patient.
"... I am no longer a Reaver." It was said so bluntly, and she continued speaking despite the startled look on Hjalmar's face. "I'm now a Shield Maiden; a title which, I'm assuming, you have not heard of. Neither had I, until the new Warlord took charge. Lionesses can no longer take the same ranks as lions. I am, for all intents and purposes, a border guard, incapable of leaving."
She let out a snort, "Fate is cruel to allow me freedom and then so callously take it away again."
He sat in stunned silence for a moment, torn somewhere between shock, worry for his sisters and mother, and... pity. An emotion he wouldn't have thought he'd feel towards his rival. But then, they had both done so much to get to where they are, had trained against each other all this time, and he had seen first hand how good of a fighter and hunter Dreki was. It was almost a shame that it would get wasted on border skirmishes.
So he frowned, "Are you not allowed out on Reavings then?"
Dreki snorted, "Oh, if I get a captain to sponsor me long enough, I could become a Valkerie. It's the female equivalent of a Reaver, but... also not, and it isn't like to happen any time soon. A lot of other Reavers girls are fighting for that chance right now." She withheld the fact that she was also reconsidering her own place in the pride. Best not to mention that to anyone.
She shook her head, "I don't... want to talk about it anymore." Instead, she twisted herself around fully to actually face him. "Just as I'm sure you have no interest in telling me about what happened." And oh, did she want to know. He was a bulky lion, trained and tried in the field of battle. So what could have done this to him?
She was almost afraid to find out.
The two stared each other down, the female daring him to push on the subject, and neither budged for a good minute or two. The sky began to drizzle above them in that time.
Finally, with no indication that he was going to push anymore, Dreki'dido huffed and stood. "I don't know about you, but I have no intention to sit under the rain, peaceful spot or not." She paused there, debating what to say next, and then shook her head and turned to walk away.
Before she got too far though, she stopped and tilted her head back, "If you're ever wanting to spar... for old times sake.... I could use the practice. All this patrolling has left me feeling rusty with combat."
And with a flick of her tail, she stalked away.
Hjalmar watched her leave, not saying a word at her parting sentence and not giving any other indication of his interest. He would never admit it, but a good spar might help to get used to... things.
With a sigh, he looked up at the falling rain, silent in his own thoughts, and then stood to make his way back to his den. He had no interest in adding a cold to his list of ailments.
