Sleeping Dragon the daughter of the mightiest god

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Her children were growing. It was a beautiful thing for her to watch, to witness, to be able to guide them and yet it brought with it an undeniable sadness, as well. They were independent for the most part and while this was a good thing it brought with it the realization that they would cease to need her soon. Freyja already spoke so passionately about leadership. Eske was ...well Eske. Gyda was not able to determine if her daughter had any aspirations beyond battle. Would she not have been so immersed in her father's culture she would have made a shield-maiden to be reckoned with. Still, Gyda supposed she got her desire for battle honestly. A fierceness as her's beat within Gyda's own heart. Except unlike her youngest daughter she was not so aggressive. At least, not all the time. Hvitserk and Thyri were her presumably quietest children. She did not fret over Hvitserk as much as she did Thyri. The girl was the quietest out of them all and though she was worried for her second born Gyda tried not to pry nor interfere. If her daughter wished to talk to her ...she would.

Gyda found solace in the borders. With her children out and about of the den as they pleased Gyda returned to it was a fierce longing. Though she adored being a mother her true calling had always been the front lines. It was where the queen of valkyrja felt the most at home. Her ears swiveled to the sides as she bowed her head to sniff at the borders, pausing to refresh it with her own scent before she continued forth, alert, her gaze scanning the free territories beyond the Dragon's borders for any sign of danger.

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There were plans that needed to be made, a strategy that he was required to piece together. Hvitserk had given his word to his sister, which he was determined to honour. The giant would fall just as they always did, and then there would exist within the pack nothing for Freyja to worry over. He was not the first to be born, and definitely not her older brother, but he felt a desire to protect his sibling that was so strong that he might as well have been. He knew not if the enemy had threatened her directly, but that mattered little now. Attacking a cache and destroying all of her hard work was a large enough crime for the child to want his head, and he had every intention of taking it. For how long it might take him to prepare, he knew not, but the day would arrive soon enough—and when it did, the beast would regret having ever joined the mountainous pack.

Heavy were his thoughts with all of the possibilities, which he found to be difficult to comb through. So many ideas had formed that he knew not what to do with them all, and so he’d found himself heading towards the borders with the intention of clearing his mind. A part of him hoped to find his raccoon friend there, though he doubted that he would, since she could distract him from all that he felt troubled by; he missed her, too. She would not be there to greet him, though, which he’d come to terms with even before his arrival at the borders. It was unconsciously that he’d kept an ear out for her anyways as he trailed along the borders, eventually finding someone that he’d not been expecting: his mother. Without knowing if he was still supposed to keep away from the borders whilst alone or not, he knew not what sort of reaction he’d be met with. So, of course, he had made an attempt at getting away unnoticed, which hadn’t worked at all. Walking backwards had seemed like a good idea at first, but he’d soon found himself sprawled out on the ground after having tripped over an unidentifiable object. A soft oomph slipped passed his lips, right before his eyes locked onto his mother’s form.

Hvit knew that his landing hadn’t exactly been quiet, but he still hoped that, by some miracle, he’d not been heard—or, if he had been, that she would not send him away.

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She drew in a soft hiss of a breath when the sound of a body tumbling ungracefully to the ground caught her attention, her body spinning around quickly. Her hackles raised and her lips curled back from her teeth as her wild eyes searched for the culprit, his “oomph” falling to deaf ears in her hiss of breath. She took him in, feral for a moment before Gyda recognized her own son and let out a heavy sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging with it as her hackles smoothed back along her spine. “Hvitserk,” His name left her lips, both a soft chuckle and a soft scold. “What are you doing at the borders by yourself?” She demanded to know, drawing nearer to him. As Gyda could not clone herself into four other Gydas keeping track of all of her children as they ventured out and about and keeping up with her duties as Gona was an impossible task. She was not so easily fooled to believe that Eske did not often sneak to the borders to patrol on her own. She had yet to catch her youngest daughter in the act, however, and until she did could not punish her for it.

“Get up, my son,” She encouraged him as she made to bend her muzzle towards him to offer him an affectionate nudge. “You can patrol with me, if you want,” She offered him, fixing him in her gaze before a soft smile tugged at the edges of her lips. “Or would it be to embarrassing to patrol with your mother?” She teased him playfully.

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Ice ran through his veins and he flattened himself down against the earth, staring wide-eyed at the woman. Had he been wrong somehow? Was it not his mother? It looked like her, which left him feeling conflicted. An internal war raged on for but a second as he tried to decided whether or not he should flee, understanding for the first time why he was supposed to call for others whenever a stranger was met. With how rapidly his heart had begun beating, he’d nearly been made deaf, the sigh unheard. It was not until after her posture had changed that he’d manage to secure some sort of grip on reality, realizing that his first suspicions had been correct—it was his mother, however unrecognizable her previous aggression had made her out to be. Had she been smaller, it likely wouldn’t have mattered, but he was smart enough to know which battles he could win and which ones he would fall in. Untrained and lacking muscle, he’d not wanted to engage in battle against a wolf that he had believed to be a stranger; the thoughts hadn’t lingered for long before being corrected, but they’d still been present enough to have him becoming one with the ground.

Hvitserk had not answered her, nor was a verbal greeting given. He was just as quiet as usual, even as she’d approached and nudged him. Her command was obeyed and his form lifted up off of the ground, coat then having been shaken free of whatever dirt he might have collected whilst tumbling. By then his fear had faded entirely, allowing the child to better relax and return his heart rate to normal—which hadn’t happened, given the shot of excitement he’d felt in response to her offer. Still were no words to be uttered, a shake of his head being given instead. A smile followed after as he caught onto her teasing, right before he’d moved forward to bump his head against her. Whenever her patrol would be continued, he would follow after closely, his moment of fear having already been completely wiped from his memory.

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Her son is quiet, offering her no words. She is glad to see that he has risen from the ground and for a moment the valkyrie's lips began to pull into a slight frown, betraying the trouble she feels at his continued silence. Hvitserk and Thyri were the quietest of her children — for certainly she thought Eske to be vocally the loudest — and though she wonders if she has done something wrong as she raised them she tries to console herself by telling herself it is simply their personalities. Ragnar had been a quiet man, not boisterous as Eske. Though she shared no blood with the only father she had ever known and had one point believed she had loved Gyda saw his traits in her children (or perhaps it stems from Crete who was both her biological father and mute).

Her frown morphed into a smile instead when Hvisterk wordlessly communicated that he did not find it embarrassing to patrol with her and her heart warmed when her son bumped his head against her. She sought to place a quick kiss upon his brow before she moved away from him, not because she desired space from her child but because she had asked him to patrol with her and she did not wish to slack upon her duties. Her life as Gona was much simpler than her life as Viking Queen and Gyda struggled, now that she was no confined to the den and her children, with how she felt about it. There was a part of her that would always miss being Queen, a part of her that would always yearn for it. It had been her destiny and Gyda was not sure she could ever fully let go of it; but being a mother to her children had been more important to her than a seat of power; and though she missed her adventures as Viking Queen it was a sacrifice she would make over and over again if she could.

Her children had been and always would be worth the sacrifices she chose to make. She did not offer Hvitserk words as they made their way along the border, knowing that if he wished to speak to her he would.

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The kiss to his brow had been welcomed, leaned into, but not returned; his mind was focused on patrolling the borders with his mother, not acting affectionate. The moment she’d moved away from him his head had lifted and tilted, expression curious, though the answer to his unasked question was given only a moment later. Whilst Gyda led the way, the young Viking trailed behind her, watching her as best he could so that he might learn. Whenever she stopped, he’d mimicked her actions, determined to show just how capable he was. The reason from which his desire stemmed was clear enough, too: he wanted to be able to linger along and beyond the borders whenever it appealed to him, but without the risk of punishment. For the day, or maybe even the week, that was his goal and he hoped to accomplish it with the assistance of his mother.

When at last they had finished, Hvitserk found himself to be rather tired. With hardly anything more than two or three words, he’d parted ways with Gyda and headed off towards the den. Once there, he’d slept for just long enough to regain his energy, and then went out again to explore.