[ Geiravor liked to watch the Valkyries train, but she did not join them. She'd never felt welcome in their presence, between being a Jotunn and the Trickster's daughter, and having a close relationship with one of Odin's heirs. The former she understands; she doesn't really trust her father either, and she hates how his reputation has, in turn, stained hers. It's the latter that she finds annoying. If the Valkyries aren't trying to flirt with Hodr, they're hostile toward her for being his constant companion. Why can there be no middle ground? They're all supposed to serve in the Allfather's army.
She did, at least, get to talk to the older Valkyries. There were some decent ones, and one she particularly admired. ]
Will you show me how to do that?
[ Most have already disappeared into their quarters to get ready for their evening duties in the halls of Valhalla. It's when she chooses to approach the Warrior, because there are fewer eyes to judge her or scorn her to tell her off because a pretty face like hers has no business around sharp objects. Ha. ]
They train all day, every day, the fighting never stops. Then, they celebrate themselves - and the Allfather, or at least they pretend - in the halls of Valhalla at night. It's routine, and there is a system to routines. The Warrior doesn't like it, systems are hierarchial by nature and all hierarchies, she once believed and believes still, are only obstacles on the way to freedom, yet training is training. Her thoughts are her own, and no one can dictate for what exactly she trains.
The other Valkyries have their own names and their own purposes, bowing and scraping to Odin and his sons, but the Warrior doesn't scrape, even as she shows the Gods the respect they insist on. The Warrior doesn't subject herself to anyone. She is not even a slave of herself.
You cannot slave for someone whose name you do not know.
When Geiravor comes up to her in the privacy of the moment, she is roughly cleaning down her sword, not a routine, her hands find new ways down the blade and she is standing with her back half-turned to the girl. Unlike most of the Valkyries, she doesn't feel threatened by Loki's daughter's close relationship with Hodr. She is beyond such feelings. There is only the threat of the system and Geiravor is not part of it.
She turns towards her, wiping the blade down one last time. ]
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starters ad libitum.
no subject
She did, at least, get to talk to the older Valkyries. There were some decent ones, and one she particularly admired. ]
Will you show me how to do that?
[ Most have already disappeared into their quarters to get ready for their evening duties in the halls of Valhalla. It's when she chooses to approach the Warrior, because there are fewer eyes to judge her or scorn her to tell her off because a pretty face like hers has no business around sharp objects. Ha. ]
no subject
They train all day, every day, the fighting never stops. Then, they celebrate themselves - and the Allfather, or at least they pretend - in the halls of Valhalla at night. It's routine, and there is a system to routines. The Warrior doesn't like it, systems are hierarchial by nature and all hierarchies, she once believed and believes still, are only obstacles on the way to freedom, yet training is training. Her thoughts are her own, and no one can dictate for what exactly she trains.
The other Valkyries have their own names and their own purposes, bowing and scraping to Odin and his sons, but the Warrior doesn't scrape, even as she shows the Gods the respect they insist on. The Warrior doesn't subject herself to anyone. She is not even a slave of herself.
You cannot slave for someone whose name you do not know.
When Geiravor comes up to her in the privacy of the moment, she is roughly cleaning down her sword, not a routine, her hands find new ways down the blade and she is standing with her back half-turned to the girl. Unlike most of the Valkyries, she doesn't feel threatened by Loki's daughter's close relationship with Hodr. She is beyond such feelings. There is only the threat of the system and Geiravor is not part of it.
She turns towards her, wiping the blade down one last time. ]
What do you want to see, Lokisdottir?