In his absence, Magda had been put in charge of Rian’s children. There was not a single maternal bone in Magda’s body, but in this case, she was their mother by default. She’d promised Rian she’d try, and try she would. Besides, it didn’t hurt for the Voice of Coheed’s wife to be seen acting the part.

It was Rian’s daughter who was her focus at present.

The Nevermereans wanted to train more female warriors, and Magda was eager to show compliance with her kingdom in all the ways that suited her. She hadn’t run this by Rian, exactly, but Magda would explain it was for the best. After all, keeping up pretenses, buttering both sides of the bread, was what was going to win her the prize she sought:

Coheed.

Magda had accompanied Rian’s daughter to the training grounds. Though she was not dressed in her usual extravagant regalia, she still looked the part of the foreign seductress. Her hair was pinned at the base of her neck, just low enough to cover the metal spine that crawled down her back. Most of it, anyway.

Magda fussed over the girl. She was eleven years old. In Magda’s opinion, Rian was far too soft on her. So, she sought to provide a counterbalance. Provide discipline.

They made their way down to the training grounds, where she was to put in extra hours of training. If there was anyone there to spar with, Magda would push her their way—child that she was.

Catrin had lost herself in burn of her muscles, something she quickly learned was beneficial to her when she had first started training. It overrode any and all thoughts in her mind, quieting it in a way, only the pain and the heaving of her lungs left to focus on.

But it seemed she wouldn't get to enjoy this alone. Between the thuds of her fists landing against the punching bag, she picked up the sound of footsteps approaching. Turning slightly, she caught sight of the duo and blinked a few times. The woman was familiar, of course. A Nevermeran who had made herself quite comfortable here and been married to Rian.

She eyed the young girl that was with her next, and her curiosity was peaked. Turning fully towards them, Catrin took a few deep breaths to try to calm her breathing. "Hello," she said, her eyes jumping between the girl and Magda.

The girl, Hedda, just stood there for a moment and stared at Catrin, frozen in space. She glanced back at Magda who just raised her eyebrows in a ‘try me’ expression. Magda’s charge had been to care for Rian’s children, and in her own way, she believed she was. The girl would either be a pretty bauble or a proper warrior and in both Nevermere and Coheed, Magda had seen what happened when you were the former. Hedda, after a moment, relented and stepped forward with a straight back and shoulders.

“I hope we’re not imposing,” Magda said with a pleasant smile, “I just thought Hedda could use some additional practice. And perhaps, inspiration.” She looked at the warrior before her appreciatively, furrowing her brow as her gaze lingered.

“We’ve met, have we not?”

Catrin wasn't quite sure what to make of Magda and how she had made her way into their kingdom. The women of Coheed had only recently broken away from the constraints of their culture, and not completely, if they were honest. Magda was not a Coheed woman, she was a free Nevermeran woman, and yet she had married into the Coheed life. It was... strange.

But now here she stood with whom Catrin could only assume was Rian's child. She eyed the young girl, excitement slowly building in her. If they could train the girl's from a young age to be warriors, it would erase the divide between them and the men all that quicker. The flattery was completely lost on her, though, and she brushed right by it.

"Of course I'd be interested in helping train her. And no, you're not imposing." She crossed her arms over her chest, "Have you done any sort of training before?" she asked the girl, before her eyes jumped up to Magda.

"I don't think we've met specifically, but we have surely seen each other around. I'm Catrin, leader of the Parabolti." It was not an introduction she was able to make very often and the words still felt weird to say. But a bit of pride swelled in her chest at just the mention of her position.

Hedda stood, looking up at Catrin with a mixture of fear and wonder. The girl didn’t answer the warrior at first, which solicited a harsh look from Magda. Seeing it, Hedda found her tongue. “Yes, ma’am.” Magda’s face softened, partially satisfied, before adding: “She has some ways yet to go.”

“Catrin…” Magda lingered on every syllable of the woman’s name as if it were a delicious apple she were biting into. She held out her hand to the woman to shake, “Magda.”

She knew who Catrin was by name, but had never put a face to it. She offered Catrin her first name instead of her title and surname. Whether the warrior knew it or not, it was, in a way, a sign of respect. Things were not easy for the women of Coheed. Magda had the luxury of having a foot in two worlds; leveraging her Nevererean status to put her at the top of the food chain. Other women did not have that luxury.

Catrin studied the young girl carefully, a rare softness coming to her own eyes before she gave a quick nod. "Well, we can at least start with ensuring you know how to properly throw a punch." She tried for a small smile before returning her attention to Magda again.

She blinked at the outstretched hand but remembered seeing other Nevermerans doing whatever this was. She reached out, awkwardly gripping Magda's hand and giving it a slight shake. "It is good to meet you. And good of you to bring Hedda for training. There are still very few women and girls who seek any sort of training for the Parabolti. It... has not been an easy transition."

She grimaced and shrugged, but motioned for Hedda to follow her over to the punching bag she had just been using. "Let's see what you can do, Hedda."

Magda smiled at the woman, letting herself a small moment of genuine empathy—if anything, for the novelty of it. “No,” She said softly, “That it has not.”

When Catrin focused on Hedda, Magda took a few steps back. She watched them with her arms crossed, her eyes darting between the warrior and the girl she’d been charged with. Magda had yet to figure out how to approach motherhood. Not that she fancied herself the girl’s mother, she would never be, but just what Magda was to her, she didn’t yet know.

Hedda’s showing would be adequate, but timid. After a careful glance, she started to hit the bag with accuracy. But every time, she held back. As if she were afraid the bag would strike back if she gave her fists too much power. Magda’s lips pressed together in a tight line.

Catrin focused wholly on the girl, paying no mind to Magda lurking on the outskirts. She watched the girl's punches, seeing her hesitancy. Her lips downturned and she shook her head a bit, "It does not matter how perfect your form is if you cannot deliver the force with the punch."

She moved Hedda aside, gently as she remembered Magda's watchful gaze, and demonstrated a proper punch for the girl. "This is just a bag, it will not hit back. It does not feel when you punch it. Enemies will do both, and it is important you give it everything you have to gain the upper hand over them."

She moved and motioned for Hedda to go again, a rare show of patience only afforded for the youngest inhabitants of Coheed. But that patience still only went so far, and she would expect Hedda to act properly this time.

Magda grimaced. The girl’s hesitance made her bristle with irrational frustration. Hedda was the daughter of a chieftain, a potential example for girls of Coheed, but yet she was as timid as any other wife their kingdom had produced. Hedda glanced over at Magda who fixed her with a hard stare.

Hedda did better on her second try. She was still holding back, but it was less evident. Eventually, her confidence seemed to grow. Magda looked on, watching the woman as she worked.

Still hesitant, the girl did marginally better the second time around. But it was not enough for Catrin. Her mouth turned down in a frown as she crossed her arms across her chest. "Harder, Hedda. Throw all of your weight behind the punch." She glanced at Magda, wondering if she should go easy on Hedda or watch what she said. She decided she didn't care.

"You are the daughter of our Chieftain. You could show the other young girl's and even some women that we are capable of more than just producing children. You must do better than this." Her tone was clipped and strained, not caring that she was placing great weight and responsibility on the young girl's shoulders.

Hedda just stared at Catrin, caught somewhere between futility and fear. Magda’s lips pursed as if tasting something sour, though distantly she felt pity for the girl. All of this was quite the adjustment for her. To go from having no mother to speak of to a foreigner living in her house—breathing down her neck, barking orders—likely wasn’t easy.

But nothing in this world was. The world was cold and cruel, at least in Magda’s experience. One just had to be able to take a punch and be ready to swing when the time came. Magda stepped forward, arms crossed, looking at Hedda.

“Do better. We don’t leave until you do.” Magda left the girl to practice, turning her attention to Catrin. She looked at the woman with new eyes; appreciative, almost admiring.

“Capable of more than producing children,” Magda repeated with a soft smile, “I daresay Coheed would be better off if more women followed your example.”

Catrin stared back at Hedda until Magda stepped forward, reinforcing what Catrin had told Hedda. A small bit of appreciation flashed in Catrin's eyes before she turned back to Hedda, nodding her head toward the punching bag.

With the girl doing what was assumedly her best, Catrin looked to Magda as she spoke, snorting at her words. "You should tell the other women that. Even most of those that joined me under the Parabolti don't agree with the statement."

She eyed Magda, finding it refreshing to be speaking with this woman who was an outsider. A woman who knew freedom to do as she pleased in Nevermere. "Why did you come here? Why subject yourself to this kingdom, where we are treated so poorly, when you could still be living in Nevermere?" She hadn't stopped to think that question might be out of line.

Magda huffed with a small chuckle. There was no doubt in her mind that Catrin’s battle was one fought uphill. Shackles of the body were easy to shed when broken, but those in the mind were tough to loosen. Magda imagined that trying to free others had been an unforgiving, frustrating pursuit. But a worthy one.

Catrin’s subsequent question solicited more than a half-hearted chuckle. Her eyes lit with genuine mirth, transforming Magda for a moment from the scheming seductress to something far more genuine.

“If you knew what they made of me in Nevermere, you might not be so surprised. Coheed has granted me far more freedoms than the people of Nevermere ever did,” Magda looked Catrin up and down with a smile, “I only hope I can return the favor.”