Loki: Storm of Swords

Chapter 73 - Ragna vs. Preconceived Notions

Ragna wanted her own horse, but was forced to sit in front of Beric Dondarrion on his mount. He had tried to put his arm around her waist, but she had batted it away. Instead, he just caged her body with his arms as he held the reins. The men were intrigued by Ragna's presence, almost as if they had never seen a child before in their lives. Ragna let them for a while, until one man tried to coddle her, and she reacted negatively (i.e. biting his hand). Ragna's head turned from side to side as she studied the woods around them. The birds twittered overhead and if Ragna concentrated, she could hear the scurrying of the little woodland creatures. "So, my little lady," Thoros of Myr said, getting Ragna's attention, "what drew you away from your protectors?"

"There will not be many wars in the future for our world, and I'm not going to miss out on a chance to earn some glory for myself," Ragna answered. The men around them snorted and Ragna fixed them with her emerald gaze. "You laugh? Come visit me in twenty years and you will see a young woman, who will have men like you kneeling at her feet," Ragna declared. Thoros of Myr chuckled and Beric Dondarrion looked down at the little girl sitting in his saddle.

"You sure your father and mother wouldn't want you to marry some powerful man and join two great houses or nations together?" Beric Dondarrion suggested. Ragna looked over her shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow.

"As if my father would tie me to a useless man? There is no man of Westeros who can match me and he wouldn't want me to marry beneath my standards and abilities," Ragna responded coolly.

"No man of Westeros? So, you mean that another man from any other world would do?" Thoros queried. Ragna's lips puckered.

"I do not know. The Outlander, Thor, is said to be a fine specimen of his people. Asgardians are great warriors, but incredibly dull. At least that's what Father said. He's not fond of the Dwarves of Nidavellir either. Says they're treacherous little leeches," Ragna explained.

"So, according to the Hand, that still leaves six other worlds to choose from," Thoros said, playing along with Ragna. Ragna wrinkled her nose up slightly and shook her head.

"The Dark Elves are finally extinct, and Helheim is the realm of the deceased, so, no good living options there. Niffleheim is just barren, and Alfheim... well, I'm not that interested in Light Elves," Ragna said honestly. Beric Dondarrion laughed and Thoros grinned.

"Listening to you talk about elves and worlds of dwarves and gods! Sounds like you're telling a story," Beric said and Ragna tilted her head.

"And here, you speak of your own giants and the... what was it? The undead," Ragna reminded. Several men heard this and pshawed.

"That's ridiculous! The Wight Walkers are merely legend! They never actually existed," one of the men said and Ragna rolled her eyes.

"Merely legend? And yet there are history books that speak of their existence. Funny, isn't it?" Ragna challenged.

"History books?" Beric Dondarrion queried.

"Clearly none of you men can read," Ragna stated before she explained, "per my father's and 'aunt's' instructions, a public library was constructed in Kings Landing, and texts that had been originally forbidden to the common man were now available. These texts included books about the time before Westeros was officially unified under the Targaryens. In those compilations, they explained how the Targaryens got the other Free Peoples to join forces in driving the Wight Walkers back. That is why the Great Wall was built in the first place. Why else would you need to build such a great wall? It certainly wasn't to keep the Wildlings out."

"You are a wealth of knowledge for one so small," Thoros of Myr said dryly.

"Yes, well, I was educated," Ragna retorted and Beric Dondarrion burst out laughing.

"Indeed, young one! How does one your size contain all this information?" Beric asked and Ragna started to open her mouth before he interrupted, "Don't answer that." She frowned a little before she leaned back against him and closed her eyes. Beric Dondarrion looked down at her before glancing over at Thoros. They waited several minutes, listening to the whispered conversations of the other men around them. Once they were sure Ragna was asleep, Beric Dondarrion said, "I can't believe that your Lord of Light would have wanted such a child to be sacrificed to him. What a waste of human life that would have been."

"He asks for many things we mortals cannot hope to understand. We cannot question his wisdom," Thoros countered.

"And yet, here she is. Alive and snarking off," Beric pointed out and Thoros of Myr shrugged.

"We can choose to ignore things we don't understand," Thoros rejoined and Beric smiled. His arms pinned her a little tighter and he looked down, admiring the sun off her red hair.

"She says that she will grow up to defy all convention. That she will be a leader of men. Do you really think her father would allow that? For his daughter to be a general in Westeros' armies?" Beric queried and Thoros looked at her as well. She stirred a little, leaning her head even more into Dondarrion's shoulder.

"I believe that even if her father was to say nay, she would overcome him and get whatever she desires. This child will not allow anyone to force her hand, regardless of who they are. It shall be her strength and her weakness," the Red Priest admitted.

"Her weakness?" Beric Dondarrion challenged.

"Indeed. Stubbornness is equal parts a strength and a weakness. The strength is that when somebody wants her to compromise her beliefs for an evil, she will hold her ground. The weakness is that she will immovable to the one person who will know her as well if not better than she knows herself," Thoros of Myr answered.

"And who would that be?"

"The one man who can take her on." The two men had no idea that Ragna, who had lowered her head, smirked slightly. She had heard their conversation and was mildly pleased that they believed she could attain her dream. As for the one man who could be her equal?

I pity the fool, she thought before she actually fell asleep.