A Long Journey
12-06-2013, 08:47 PM
Aros stood up as straight as he could, puffing his chest out as the woman's languid voice fell upon his ears. Who was he? That she had given her full title impressed him, not only because of the weight it carried, but that she knew the importance of others know her importance. A princess, he mused. A fine creature indeed. It was his turn then, to convey the worth of his own blood. His lineage was ancient, of course. The Clan Ysgarion's were well regarded in his homeland and had been for many, many moons, but whether or not this would move her remained to be seen. And so it was that Aros drew himself up, hardening himself into the guise of a warrior, putting his father's face on display. In a deeper, more collected voice he responded to the fae. "I am Aros, son of Bjornolf, son of Asgeir, of the Clan Ysgarion, Lords of the Mountains of the Gods, favored of the goddess Nocla, revered and feared for hundreds of moons. I do not expect you to be so educated as to our feats, of course. But I can forgive that." It was a kindly deed, but he felt it no less than the female deserved, for her fine blood. She should be honored to stand in his presence. Were he speaking to a prince instead of a princess, it might even have been in him to bend a knee. As it was, he assumed cordiality would suffice for now. He would have to find a way to learn more of her before he breached his offer, wary of being too hasty. He contented himself for now in waiting for the fine fae's response. "Speech," Thoughts, |