Home Is Where the Hearth Is
At the edges of the Thornwood, a lone Ranger followed a Hearthguard into camp. Warmth emanated not only from the fire in the middle of the central ring, but from every man and woman around it. Eir took a tentative seat, unsure at first of her decision to walk right into enemy territory unarmored and unarmed. What the hell were you thinking? This could be a trap.
For hours, they huddled around the flames, talking, telling stories. She watched in silent curiosity as a Sea Lord tried to proclaim his accomplishments and lamented his wish to be Hearthguard despite his lack of understanding of their principles. And one by one Jarls and officers shut down his foolish words, speaking of their worldview and ways to his unhearing ears.
But someone was listening. The other outsider in the camp listened, her mind and heart processing every word from everyone from Thrall to Jarl… to Queen. Queen Tove’s poise and calm and humility spoke to Eir in a way that no other’s attitude had. In mere hours Queen Tove had earned more respect from her than any noble’s son, self-proclaimed king, or Ranger ever had.
As the night’s chill crept deeper and the revelry had wound down, Eir stood in the mead hall, again speaking with Queen Tove and she showed the kindness and humility that one expected of a true leader. It was then that the young Ranger knew in her heart that it was time. It was time to side with her homelands. It was time to come home.
