Frostfire Ridge It's a start...

So this post might not exactly match up to what I'd previously typed but bumping the date up to after Tezca x Nochtli's last thread (as to which I'll reply to asap).

Citali ignored him when he called out across the breach of grasslands between them, which while it did not come as a huge surprise, pricked at him nevertheless. How quickly he'd lost what feeble control he'd thought he had on ...everything; if he'd had any control at all initially. Nochtli was gone, and her betrayal had cut deeper than the serpent king had thought it would have. He had apologized to her, accepting the error of his thinking, glad that she did not think that males were the bane of the earth only to have her twist everything he said, as if she couldn't stop herself from hearing what she had wanted to hear from what he said (which, unfortunate as it was for Tezcacoatl) had been all negative; and he was not fool enough to believe that he would not lose Citali, Manauia and even Xiuhcoatl, too. The consideration of this cut into the marrow of Tezcacoatl's bones because it actually hit the dormant/awakening(?) Amazon within him. The Guard that he had grown to harbor affection for, that he had counted upon as his right hands were deserting him, turning their backs to him: when he'd been their mission all along. A king needed his consul, after all. He remembered more with Nochtl's betrayal, something he had suffered through in isolated silence. It had been the worst migraine to date, the pain almost unbearable as it felt like a living being was trying to smash it's way out of the inside of his skull as the memories came breaching through the floodgate the amnesia and Ragnar's lies had kept them behind, until he'd upchucked all the contents of his stomach and then some. He could have called for the healer who's back he was currently staring at, but he hadn't. He'd shouldered the burden alone, bearing the pain because he was an Amazon and weakness wasn't an acceptable thing.

His head still throbbed every now and then, but outwardly he allowed no signs of it to become visible (or so he hoped anyway). The medic had a keen eye, as was her job, and he hoped that either she wouldn't care enough now, or she'd not pay enough attention to notice anything that might give him away. To have to call someone whom you had once called a right hand, to someone whose your life had once laid in the paws of a traitor was a hard thing, and there was a part of Tezcacoatl that still hated Ragnar for everything he'd caused. Even after death, the Viking was still making Tezcacoatl's life a living hell. “Nochtli is gone, Citali,” He spoke bluntly, understanding that his words might cause the medic to leave him, too. His kingdom, that he put so much thought and patience into was crumbling and he was helpless to stop it. It was like a horrific replaying of Duskfire Glacier's downfall. It was the same thing, only worse this time around. “She has turned her back on me, on Frostfire Ridge and though I doubt you will believe me, the Amazons as a culture.” Technically, he had too, but then again he wasn't just an Amazon. “She has turned her back on Quetzalcoatl by abandoning her mission,” Him. “I had no choice but to call her a traitor, and you know as well as I do that my mother will do the same,” She'd had homes at both the Rise and the Ridge and now she had neither. He didn't say it out of necessity, simply because it didn't need to be said: that if she came near his borders he would kill her, and that anyone who was caught offering her aid, or even associating with her would be dealt severe consequences. 

“That male she'd been hanging around with a lot before betraying us, the one I smelled on her,” Tezcacoatl had even asked the ebony ex-Amazon about him but he couldn't recall through the aching within his skull if she'd ever been forthcoming about her information on him. “What do you know of him? It seems to me that he was the turning point of her behavior.” Citali might not tell him anything, even if she did know, or she could lie. He was prepared for all options, and prepared to track the male down by himself, if it came to it. Someone would be punished for the loss of a woman that Tezcacoatl had once thought of as family. He wasn't the young, awe struck, polite boy that his garrison had once known. No, that boy had died long ago. In it's place was a war hardened, feral man: Ragnar and Quetzalcoatl's own creation as the Viking and Amazon fused together. Tezcacoatl had no time for games, and had proved it when he'd fearlessly taken Ragnar's life (not that it did him any good).