A daughter of warriors, where Magni was the daughter of smiths, not of mountains and skies and all Talonhold was meant to be. More comfortable at the forge than in a throne room, better at ease in the vicious heat and hammering metal than the dance of words.

Leaning forward, stooping with it, she brings her forehead to rest against Lakshmi's. Never mind the dirt and the mud, and her other hand cradles the other side of Lakshmi's jaw, so for long moments she can just lean against her with her eyes closed.

"I don't understand," she says softly, uncertain. "I don't— you don't have to be everything. Just you."

Too simplistic, probably, naive in some ways. She was never meant to be a leader and she doesn't really want to be, and she doesn't want Lakshmi to suffer from the burdens of it either. "Even with that temper."