Much like her first home, chaos never ends here. Unlike her mates, Narcissa thrives in it. She was born in it, and had missed it each day she was subjected to a sedentary life. Still, she would not have traded her family in the frozen wasteland they had called home for anything, but she understands the ramifications of how difficult it is for them to adjust here. Azriael, perhaps, is the only one familiar enough with a world like this to fit in so seamlessly.

She wasn't surprised to have been found by Úlla in the stead of her former king, requesting her presence at the Scillan borders. While she trusts that her children will be safe under his jurisdiction, she suspects that some of them will not make it easy for him. One in particular. And so she once again makes the trek that has become all too familiar to the spotted woman -- for once, not on the heels of chaos. She halts respectfully at the scent marker, its borders stained with new smells covering up the old, but still she can faintly scent traces of the old queen. Her chuffs rumble for for the audience that @Magnus has requested, and her voice makes it clear that her children are not to attend this meeting. Sometimes, affairs must be private, and this is one of those times.

"@Narcissa."

There were no shadows to float ominously out of here; one of the few downsides of trading the Hollows for somewhere closer to the shore. Instead his approach would be visible for all to see, his jilted gait prominently noticeable. Once within better earshot, he would offer more - more than just a gravelled, one-word greeting. "Your daughter is.... spritely, isn't she?" It would be the nicest way to describe her; not that Beelzebub particularly deserved his kindness. It would be by the saving grace of her mother and her fealty to the Hollows that the wretch had not been cast out on her ear, especially after attacking not one but two of his kin - her participation in the onslaught against Ulla was only suspected, though her description matched, so it was certainly a high chance - so brazenly.

irish

It doesn't take long for her former king to approach, beaten and battered, but still a king nonetheless. "Magnus," she greets in turn, dipping her skull as he nears. He may not be her sovereign any longer, but that doesn't mean he hasn't earned her respect, brief though their relationship may have been.

"Yes," she agrees with something of a wry smirk quirking across her lips, "she gets that from me." Narcissa may seem like a tame creature in the moments where @Magnus has known her, but it is hardly in her base nature to be obedient. Motherhood has forced a more mellow side of her to appear, but she had been raised a warrior, and she has taught her children to never back down from a challenge. Of course, she didn't think that said challenge would cause such tensions with an ally. She would much rather they have a mutual enemy, so that she, too, might unleash her fury. Instead, she is resigned to being political.

"I think she could learn a lot from you, Magnus," the woman muses, quirking a brow as she meets his gaze. Whether he has any desire to try, however, remains to be seen. But truthfully, she thinks all of her children can learn valuable lessons from this experience -- and learn that life does not always grant them what they desire. Rolling with the punches is just part of it, and it happens to be something that Narcissa herself is quite good at.

What @Narcissa offered next came as no surprise. She gets that from me. A brow arched, steely calm regard flitting across her face as he sought to read all the minute details of her expression. "I see." While the brunette woman had behaved cordially and conscientiously during their time in the Hollows, Magnus could detect a spark behind flaming amber eyes. Warriors tended to recognize other warriors. Still, he could not excuse disobedience forever. It prompted several questions, the most pressing being how best to bring Beelzebub and any other naysayers into line as quickly and as seamlessly as possible. If that required using the typical techniques of dominance.... Well, so be it. Narcissa would not like it, but it could end up being necessary. "She could, certainly," the titan rumbled; he knew that for sure. "Alas - I only teach those who are deserving. Those who obey." He wrinkled his muzzle. "I do not doubt your fealty, Narcissa - you and yours have served the Hollows well, and that has been recognized." A pause. "However, you may find it best to get her in line as her mother, before I have to intervene as her High Sovereign." The cogs in his mind began to turn and shift.

"There is always an alternative, of course."

irish

The thought of bringing her children into line nearly makes Narcissa laugh, but she saves face for the sake of how serious @Magnus is. Much like Wolfgang, she does not expect that he would appreciate her humor in such a moment. Some of them, certainly, would be easy enough to convince into obedience, but Beelzebub is not one of them. And truthfully, she is surprised if he expects it without offering her daughter anything worthwhile in return.

"Would you obey without question someone who took your home? Who harmed your allies?" she queries, her tone inquisitive. Her intent is not to insult Magnus, but to better understand his intentions. If the roles were reversed, would he tell his children to obey, or would he tell them to fight for what they thought was right? It's not always easy to consider the other side of things, but Narcissa has gotten quite good at it with time.

"I'm not going to pretend she will be much obliged to listen to me, Magnus. She follows her god without question -- what he tells her to do, she does." Narcissa may not understand it herself, but Wolfgang and Ania had instilled a deep sense of religion in their children, and she does not combat it, just as she had never questioned her husband for his beliefs. "If you must bring her to heel, then so be it. My mates may not agree, but it is the way I was raised. I would not fault you for it," she states firmly, all but giving him permission to wrestle her daughter into obedience if he must. Narcissa had learned such a lesson from her father once, when he had also been her king. There are many ways to earn respect, in her mind, and it seems that fighting is the only language her daughter understands these days. Her words would only fall upon deaf ears.

A brow quirks at his final off-handed and ambiguous comment, as though to say, go on, I'm listening. If he has something to say, she is not going to beg him to say it.

Now wasn't that a question for the ages? Magnus would rock back on his haunches, lips twisting at the idea; he could not picture the Sigrún ever being forced into such a situation. Certainly not now, at their current size. Still.... it was plausible. The titan was not blind - no fool like an old fool. "I would not," he agreed with a shrug of giant shoulders, "but it does not change the fact that I am stronger. Stronger than the Dieudonne, and any that support them." That could change in the months and years to come, sure, but for now?

The smirk turned to a grin.

"And so, for the time being, she must obey." He could understand being compelled by a higher power, though, even if the only one he recognized was Vellen. All others were imposters; fraudulent would-be-deities. He did not want to use violence against any so young - it seemed wrong, given his definite physical advantage; he could easily kill her even without meaning to. There were ways around it, though. As Jarl he had many hands to strike with; not all of them his. Narcissa would know that, even with it going unsaid. So, for now, he said nothing and simply nodded at her go-ahead.

He tilted his head in consideration, then, noting how the mottled matriarch seemed open to what he had to propose. Should this work, the Bezra would be yet another family tethered to the Sigrun in some way. Another family to aid the cause. Another family safe from the Blight; spared from Vellen's hungry jaws. "I do not hold allies against their will. Should your children wish to leave the Lagoon I will not keep them. To cement good relations I would be open to linking the Sigrún and the Bezra by marriage." He watched her keenly for a reaction. "I have already spoken with the Valour, the Greyfloods and the Hodari; all with positive results." Morrigan seemed most open to the idea, as did Kiton. And Talisa? Well, Nymeria was one of his closest and most established associates. He saw no issue there.

irish

ooc: sorry for this ridiculous internal monologue, please do not feel obligated to match it

There is a moment of pause, and Narcissa can all but see the gears grinding in his head, taking great consideration to the question that she has presented to him. She is grateful that @Magnus does not take immediate offense to her query as some men might; she suspects that age and experience have allowed him the graciousness of wisdom.

When he does present her with an answer, he ultimately agrees with her sentiment, a smirk planted upon smug lips. She is no stranger to confidence -- Narcissa wears it well herself, and she finds it mildly amusing to see it plastered so firmly upon the face of her former king. He is met with something of a smile of her own, but a softer one, gentler at the edges and burdened with the weight of knowing both sides of this picture. "You very well may be," she agrees (for there is no denying the hurricane that is Magnus Sigrún), "but loyalty is not always so simple." Who ruled the roost, who came out victorious with a macabre grin -- it will do little to change the minds of anyone loyal to the old regime. Like it or not, there had been a rapport between her children and the prior leadership -- rapport that Magnus does not yet have.

Still, she has no qualms with his intent to bring her brood to heel, of which Bee will undoubtedly be the most difficult. Despite her tendency to be tenacious, to be fierce, and willing to engage in battle at the drop of a hat, Narcissa herself has never been the sort to oppose a king's rule. Truthfully, before Wolfgang, she had never met one that was not so easily replaced by another, and in the end, she finds that they are all much the same. But, she supposes, if anyone had ever tried to take their home out from under Wolfgang's feet (before it had so cruelly kicked them out by nature's will), she would have been burdened with a great fury -- unimpeded by neutrality. Magnus, no doubt, has many followers who submit to him without question, and she is well aware that his willingness to keep her children under his supervision has much more to do with his relationship to the Bezra parents than it does their brood. For that, she considers him wise -- they are useful allies, and loyal to his cause despite the tension that has brewed in these last weeks. Their children may be young and inconsequential now, but they will not always be; one day, they will be every bit as formidable as any other opponent on the island. And when that day comes, it's much more beneficial to him if they are on his side.

A slight incline of her chin notes his admission that he will not force the yearling brood to stay. Still, she hopes that they will -- that they will recognize the value of the lessons they might learn here. And if just a few choose to stay, so too will the rest. Their greatest loyalty is to each other, and Narcissa knows that her children would be loathe to separate from one another. The words that follow, however, come as more of a surprise. She noticeably arches a brow, her ears twisting forward attentively as she considers his suggestion. It's not something that she and her mates have ever discussed -- they never had to. Their children had been raised all but feral in an utter wasteland, where politics were nearly nonexistent. Narcissa is not unfamiliar with the concept, given the way her own parents had wound up together, but she has never once considered it for her own children. "That is...a generous offer," she answers carefully, settling the surprise off her features. "I'm not against the idea, but it is not solely my decision to make -- and I would not force any of my children into such an arrangement if they are opposed to it," she tells him honestly. Her bright gaze remains settled evenly upon Magnus' face, consideration and intrigue written across her spotted features.

"Such a concept is not unfamiliar to me. My parents wound up together in such an arrangement, and ended up with sixteen children to show for it," she muses, a soft huff of a laugh escaping her inky lips. Growing up had been...chaotic, to say the least, and Narcissa had never intended to have half as many herself. And yet -- here she is. She takes pause for a moment, well aware that many end up somewhat shell-shocked when she makes the revelation of just how many siblings she has. Where they are now, of course, she has no idea, but she has long since accepted the fact that they had parted ways in permanency when each set out upon their own journeys. "My own children, however, were not born into such a world. The home they knew was a different sort of unforgiving -- battling the elements took precedence. There was little space to learn anything of politics, I'm afraid." Of course, Narcissa had never been particularly political to begin with, but such lessons would have been wasted upon her children when the much more important struggle for survival itself had been the only thing of value. She had never expected to wind up uprooted again, in a world so similar to the one she had been born into.

A soft hum of consideration rumbles in her throat -- she perhaps gives Magnus more information than he needs, but she hopes that some understanding about their background will help him see her children more clearly for what they are. Wild things, who are only just now learning how to be tamed. "Tell me of these other families you have aligned with?" Narcissa queries, tilting her head slightly as she peers up at her former king. She is still so woefully unaware of most of the relations within Amaryllis, and while living under his rule had been perfectly agreeable to the spotted woman, such a permanent pact warrants the need for more information.

A lip curled in faint amusement. She spoke the truth; loyalty was a precarious thing indeed, and it was a marvel that Magnus - tactless beast he could be - had managed to accrue as many allies and friends that he had. It was no doubt down to the more amenable in his inner circle, more than anything else. But still. A link with the Bezra? That was something he would secure alone. Narcissa would be the link - and, in turn, the children from her womb that still lingered in his borders. She was open to the idea of betrothal, but her response made it clear that there were other hurdles she - they - would have to overcome before such an arrangement was made. "I understand." Assuming that the Bezra huntress was alluding to partners - fellow parents - Magnus could relate. He had two wives to discuss such matters with, and no doubt when it came down to organizing marriages, while the pair were both generally of the same mindset as he.... It did not negate from the fact that the conversations had to be had, all the same.

He could not stomach Nadia or Desdemona's reactions if he dared act alone.

Mention of sixteen children was impressive, and he would simply offer a sharp bark of laughter - a momentary lift in normally sombre features - in response. Four would be enough for now; if only he knew of the eight that were coming. When prompted to discuss the other families he'd allied himself with, Magnus would be quick to oblige. With a motion of the head he invited the woman to begin walking alongside him; the Jarl was never opposed to walking and talking. "The Valour family of the Brook are one of our longest standing allies. Nymeria has held Vermeda for as long as I have lived in this land; they are large, well-linked, and their knowledge as natives will no doubt prove useful to have onside." He tilted his head in consideration. "The Hodari control the Mire and, at one point, the Rainforest too. A man named Kiton, High Sovereign of Ecrosia, is family head - from my understanding - and we are in the process of betrothing one of my daughters, Hrefna, with his son Lysander." As he thought of the large, golden-pelted boy, he considered what a fine match they should prove to be.

Hopefully.

"The Greyfloods, too, now control the Cove. Morrigan is one of my eldest friends; she used to serve as my Commander in the Hollows. Now she is Sovereign, alongside her sister Avaneira. Nadia and I, too, have plans to betroth my other daughter Voluspa to one of Morrigan's sons, who happens to be part Valour..." Or so that was the plan; he trusted that their conversations since his initial visit to Caladan had paved the way for them to be firm allies once more. "So far, it has all tied in rather nicely. They would be strong forces to ally with, should you manage to." He could go on further, he supposed, but he did not feel the need to talk Narcissa's ear off. Not unless she wanted him to.

irish