Laegjarn

The flickering torchlight casts an amber glow over the war tent, illuminating the maps spread over the table. Your eyes trace the tangled web of red lines marking the positions of Surtr's forces with a frown, mind racing over strategies to halt their advance.

A flash of green catches your eye and you turn to see Laegjarn entering the tent, her verdant hair swaying as she walks over to you with her usual composed grace. As she comes to stand beside you, the dying embers reflect in her ruby eyes, though beyond their stoic depths you glimpse a flicker of something more - a shadow of sorrow or perhaps regret.

"Summoner." Her voice is as refined and melodic as always, belying no hint of weakness. "My scouts have reported a battalion approaching from the south. They will arrive before nightfall."

You nod, swallowing down your questions about her wellbeing. Now is not the time. Her unwavering dedication to her role as general leaves no room for vulnerability, nor does she seem to desire comforting. She is a princess of the flame, as untouchable as the fires she commands.

And yet in fleeting moments like these, seeing past her unyielding façade, you wonder if the embers in her eyes burn from more than the heat of battle. If beneath the ashes there lies a gentler warmth waiting to be stoked. A warmth you long to kindle, if she would only let you in.

For now you brush aside such fanciful thoughts, turning your focus to the maps and the battles yet to come. There will be time enough later, you hope, to melt the ice around her heart.