by GR Griffin
She couldn’t help the suspicion that crept into her voice. “Oh?”
I want to be your friend.” Her startled look of surprise, earned yet another smile from Lezard. “”Will you let? Will you allow me at least the chance to try?” He was no longer trying to restrain her, but then Lenneth was no longer trying to pull free of him. “I’ve no reason to try to trick you. My offer of friendship is just that, no schemes or hidden agendas to be found. None save for one.”
“And that is?” She asked guardedly.
“So that we can get to truly know one another better.” He explained.
Still maintaining that guarded tone, Lenneth cautiously spoke. “I don’t know if I can be your friend...”
“You don’t know, or you don’t WANT to?” He asked, and Lenneth hesitated. Odin’s enchantment was still inside her heart, affecting her emotions, messing with her mind. It had never stopped playing with her, trying to make Lenneth be amenable to everything about Lezard, including just about anything he had suggested. The Valkyrie knew that Odin’s enchantment would settle for nothing less than her completely falling, Lenneth in love with the man who had kissed her awake. So strong was the enchantment, that it would be so easy to give in. So easy and even freeing, Lenneth no longer needing to fight, to think, if she would just let the spell over take her. She was stubborn though, Lenneth fighting both the magic and Lezard’s offer of friendship.
She didn’t think she could afford to let Lezard get that close to her, Lenneth saying as much out loud. Lezard was hardly turned aside by that. “Can you afford NOT to?” He had countered, and Lenneth unsure, had simply shrugged. “Ah well, you needn’t decide on it right this very second. My offer of friendship stands for however long that you need to decide towards accepting it or not.”
With that, the man had finally let go of her. “Well Lenneth, would you like to explore your new home?” He had set aside the bloodied cloth, Lezard seeming satisfied that Lenneth’s self inflicted wounds weren’t a danger to her.
“Yes.” Lenneth quickly agreed. Just about anything was a better prospect than remaining alone with Lezard in this room. “I am quite curious about where I have ended up.” She added in a conversational tone.
Lezard drew up short at that off hand comment, his look seeming shocked. “Odin did not tell you even that much at least?” It was more than just shock, Lezard was dismayed. “Your King has a sick sense of humor, leaving such explanations to me.”
“Does he now?” Lenneth asked, with a confused look in her eyes. “Odin is known for many things, but somehow...humor isn’t one of them.” Lezard seemed to have no comment to that utterance, the man instead gesturing for Lenneth to follow him. He almost seemed to hesitate before the bedroom’s main door, as though Lezard was bracing himself for something unpleasant.
“Is there a problem?” She didn’t understand his hesitation, and Lezard didn’t offer up any immediate explanations. Instead he muttered something softly under his breath, the door then opening to reveal a long and wide corridor, and the few people that were walking about it. Most of them were dressed in the uniform of a servant, and those each carried things as they hurried off on their appointed tasks.
There was also a few dressed in finer clothing, the likes of which made Lenneth think they were of noble birth. This group seemed to have nothing better to do, loitering about the hall, holding a hushed conversation. Both they and the servants all turned to look at Lezard and Lenneth, but no introduction or explanation was offered. Lenneth supposed that for right now it didn’t matter, the woman having enough on her mind without having to meet a whole new group of people.
Such as the enchantment, Odin’s magic not anywhere near ready to relinquish it’s hold on Lenneth’s heart. The Valkyrie felt as though she had to maintain a constant vigilance against it, the fight such that it dulled the opulence of her surroundings. Lenneth did see and notice much, such as the intricately painted panelings of the walls, and the very expensive carpets on the floor. The woman saw the statues, and the richly appointed rooms through the open doors that she and Lezard walked past. She wasn’t impressed by such things, but Lenneth did know enough to recognize that Lezard was a very wealthy man. A man who liked having the finest on display, a man who saw no expense spared when it came to decorating his home.
That he could afford to spread such wealth throughout a building of this size frankly amazed her, Lenneth not having realized that anyone could be as well off as the Gods. This castle didn’t quite rival Valhalla, but it was still a marvel. Lenneth found herself wondering just what Lezard did to make his living, and THAT is when she came across the crest. Such was it’s size, that Lenneth would have never NOT noticed it. Larger in size than most mirrors, the crest took up a generous portion of the wall it was adhered to.
Mystic runes were carved at the base of it, their red glow making her eyes water to look at them for too long. The language the runes spoke in, were of an old and near forgotten tongue, and yet to one who once been an immortal goddess, the language of the ancients was a common enough knowledge. Even if she was slightly rusty on some of the finer nuances.
Almost absentmindedly, Lenneth had translated enough to get out the general gist of what was written. Of how the runes spoke of loyalty to a great Queen, telling of the prosperity that was to be earned at her feet. But that alone might not have been enough to alarm her. It was the image itself, the carvings that had been etched into the stones of the crest. A three legged horse that Lenneth had instantly known to be a Helhest beast was there, leading a chariot in which a single woman could be seen seated inside it. That woman only had half of her face made clear, as though the smooth stone of it had been purposefully left incomplete in giving the Queen her appearance.
“Lenneth? Is everything all right, my lady?”
It was only then, at the sound of Lezard’s voice, that Lenneth realized that she had come to a complete stop. Her body was practically paralyzed with the horror dawning inside her, the shock of her discovery pushing back even that of Odin’s love spell. Lenneth just stood there, her mouth open and gaping, her mind trying not to acknowledge just WHO was the patron Goddess of these people.
She didn’t want to accept it. Lenneth stared at the crest, then forced herself to turn to Lezard. She was shaking with the violent tremors that had overtaken her, Lenneth leaning into Lezard just close enough to breath in deeply of his scent. Her flaring nostrils that had thought they had caught the familiar scent of ether, now knew that it was just different enough. The two similar scents both brought to mind a powerful discharge, but where one was of the divine, the other wasn’t so blessed.
Magic. The scent was of magic. Now that she knew what it was, Lenneth would never ever mistake it for the other, magic so far removed from the Gods’ ether as to be a pitiful imitation.
Actually shaking in an attempt to suppress the worst of her horror, it was with the utmost in discomfort that Lenneth addressed Lezard with her questions. “What nation of Midgard have I come to reside in?” So much was already known, the very existence of magic here, betraying Lezard and his people as to what they already were. Yet Lenneth tried to deny it, foolishly hoped that the man would somehow answer with something other than what the Valkyrie knew to be the truth.
“I have a right to know!” She added, when it appeared Lezard was going to leave her voiced question unanswered.
With a resigned sigh, Lezard seemed to deflate. “That you do.” He agreed, keeping his eyes locked with hers. It was as though he was gauging the reaction that Lenneth was already giving him. “This is Flenceburg.”
“Flenceburg!” She gasped at the confirmation, her hand pressing over her chest as Lenneth staggered back against the wall. She simply couldn’t believe that Odin would do this to her, that her king could be so cruel. Was her failure to keep Silmeria away from Brahms really worth such an extreme punishment? That Odin would willingly send Lenneth among their enemies? Her eyes looked away from Lezard to the crest, finding it was a c
onfirmation that made her shudder. She could almost picture the Queen's appearance now, and that of her mocking smile.
How funny Queen Hel would find the situation. Lenneth was sure that that hated Goddess would find it highly humorous that one of Odin's Valkyries was now to be wed to one of her followers. For once Lenneth didn't have to fight the love enchantment, her horror all consuming. She may not have had much experience on Midgard, but she knew enough to know of Flenceburg. A nation that allied itself with the underworld, and it's Queen. The Goddess Hel of Nifleheim, a ruler who was rumored to hold many dread alliances, the most notorious being that of the undead.
Still completely reeling, Lenneth stared at the crest, wanting to scream with her mounting revulsion, and the rage that was boiling inside of her. How could Odin have done this, how could he have put her in the heart of an enemy nation? How could he expect her to love this man, and to bear children that would one day swear their allegiance to the bitch Goddess Hel? Was Lenneth's failure such that it warranted such an extreme punishment? If Odin thought to make an example of Lenneth, he had surely succeeded. No Valkyrie would ever risk failing him again, for fear of being so dishonored.
“You are handling this better than I would have actually thought.” Lezard had finally broken the silence. She nearly choked at his words, Lenneth too upset to do much more than stand there in a growing display of her shock and her horror. She almost didn’t notice the way that Lezard’s shoulders were sagging with disappointment, the way his very nature seemed to scream of his awkwardness and embarrassment. Lenneth might almost think Lezard was ashamed of his home land, and it would have been a justifiable response. Her reaction might be playing a huge part in that too, as though the man had realized that all of his hopes and his dreams where Lenneth was concerned had gone up in flames.
“I am a Valkyrie.” She said at last. It was both a way of reminding him, and an explanation, Lezard nodding slowly in agreement. “I will honor the agreement.” Though she wouldn’t much like it. “Though I must admit to being quite curious how you managed to make such an arrangement with my King."
Lezard seemed to turn even more uncomfortable at that inquiry, his eyes actually shifting away from her. He was hiding something, that much was obvious. Lenneth stepped towards him, intent on getting her answer.
"The wedding will be in a few days' time." Now he was the one avoiding her touch, Lezard walking ahead of her. "I thought it best to let you acquaint yourself with your new home and it’s people before rushing into the ceremony."
She frowned at his back, Lenneth thinking she would never be at ease with the people of this nation. Not when most if not all would be known followers of Hel, the lot of them sworn to the dark arts in the foul Queen's name. Perhaps even more unbearable was the thought, that unlike her sister Silmeria, there would be no one coming to rescue Lenneth from the predicament she had found herself in.
Clenching her hands into fists, Lenneth slowly followed after Lezard. The words whispered in her head, but she knew not who to direct her prayers to. The woman would be damned before she would pray to Hel for guidance. But the Valkyrie was also loathe to pray for help from the very king who had betrayed her in so extreme a manner. In the end, she settled on her sister's name, Lenneth wishing Silmeria was somehow faring better than she.
Chapter 7: Seven
He had been played for a fool. Lezard had known and accepted it as thus, the man keenly aware of just what he had passed up on. The paradise that he had barred himself from ever setting true foot inside of. His immortal soul traded, damned for all of eternity, and still Lezard was convinced that of the two deals, a life with the Valkyrie for his bride was of the better. What use did Lezard have of a paradise without her? What reason was there to spend an entire eternity alone, when the man could instead have a brief taste of domestic bliss? With a Goddess no less, Lenneth no ordinary female, but that of a Valkyrie maiden. Once a minor deity in her own right, and even made mortal she still reigned magnificent.
The Gods help him, but even at her most dismayed and upset she was a sight. An absolute vision with her pale, luminous skin, and with her bright and expressive blue eyes that had tried and failed at keeping her secrets from him. That beautiful face, those soft sensual lips, and the remembered feel of that woman trembling beneath him. What he wouldn’t give to feel that again, what hadn’t already been so thoroughly bartered away, Lezard gazing upon a woman who was so supremely lovely as to make his heart hurt.
Were all Valkyries like that? No, of course not. His heart hadn’t throbbed to aching life, his soul itself had been left untouched by the vision of divine grace and lethal beauty that had been Odin’s Valkyries in the midst of a battle. He had made note of them but with a cool detachment, Lezard’s mind more curious than anything, analytical of any and all weaknesses that he could have then reported back to his queen. To his patron Goddess, Hel of Nifleheim. Never had Lezard felt more ashamed, never had he hated that Goddess more than he now did, Lezard dismayed. Braced for and still flinching under the Valkyrie’s blatant horror.
There was no words that could be said, no excuses that could be made. No amount of begging that could undo the hard facts of his life. Lezard was what he was, not just damned for his choices, but for his faith, the man owing allegiance to the Goddess who had seen to blessing him with so much. With the life that he had grown accustom to, the wealth and the power, the home and the people under his rule. Everything that Lezard had ever had, and everything that Queen Hel could then choose to take.
Even the Valkyrie was not immune to this, Lezard keenly aware of just how much Hel had poisoned things between them. Lenneth looked at him as though he was a MONSTER, as though she saw not the man in front of her, and certainly not the man who had risked everything on just the chance of her. No longer did those beautiful blue eyes express the internal conflict that had waged on inside her, Lenneth’s love, the chance of it, surely lost to her horror and her disgust. Her revulsion for what---who he was, and just where she now was.
Lezard fought to maintain his own expression, actually struggled to portray an outwards calm that he in no way felt. The man knew that he had failed miserably, all of his own upset and apathetic feelings alive in the language of his own body. His shoulders positively sagged with the weight of them, something very much like shame alight in his eyes. Lezard stared at Lenneth with such a bleak, unblinking expression, watching as the woman tried and failed to pull herself together.
He nodded at the words that she had then said, at the unspoken determination of a woman, a Valkyrie, who was braced to do her duty. Lezard was nothing more than that to Lenneth. No. He was worse than that, the woman having admitted to him that she thought and viewed him as her PUNISHMENT. It took all of his faltering heart’s inner strength to not make a betraying motion, to neither flinch in place nor make fists with his hands. But it hurt all the same, Lezard stung, not just by her rejection, but by her King’s deception. By the last laugh that Odin was having at Lezard’s expense. His cheeks were burning with the heat of that humiliation, and with the anger now growing inside him, Lezard knowing that this was the one secret that would follow him to his grave and there after.
Lenneth would never be privy to the real truth of just how Lezard had come to acquire her. It was a truth that not even Queen Hel suspected, the underworld’s goddess sure to make him pay a thousandfold over for his deceit and his betrayals. That shiver of unease at the reckoning that he would someday face, the eternal torments that Hel would delight in inflicting on Lezard, that knowledge nearly cramped in his stomach, the man quickly turning away from his intended bride to be.
It didn’t stop her from wondering, from Lenneth asking the question of just how Lezard and Odin had come to such an agreement. Unwilling to outright spin a lie to her, but equally as unable to admit the truth to ANYONE, Lezard settled instead for simply ignoring what Lenneth had just said.
“The wedding will be in a few day’s time.” That disaffected voice and the inability
to look at her, couldn’t protect his heart from his bride, Lezard recognizing that he was so thoroughly mired in a trap that had been of his own choosing. He was overcome with desire, overwhelmed with infatuation. And now that Lezard had had an actual taste of her, the man was sure that he was half way in love. More and more pitfalls appeared before him, Lezard trying to carefully side step them all, but he couldn’t avoid the love looming, the reality of the Valkyrie such that the man was half mad with the wanting of her.
Such a ruinous desire, Lezard having not only destroyed himself, but HER, Lenneth stripped of everything. From her divinity to life as she had known it, and only now was it truly hitting Lezard just how much he had taken from her. The same feelings that made his heart swell with a kind of desperate love and longing were nothing more than a poison to the Valkyrie. She was suffocating under them, suffocating under him, and there was a part of him that was STILL too selfish, to wish he had done otherwise.
That greedy longing, that seductive whisper inside of his head, that and his unbridled desire, all the tools needed for Odin to have played him. Or rather THEM, Lenneth little more than a means to an end, the pretty bait in which to dangle before the right—wrong man. Lezard had reached for it, reached for HER, and had walked right into Odin’s trap.
The feeling that was birthing to life inside of him wasn’t yet strong enough to be named regret. Maybe it never would be. Lezard was after all greedy, absolutely selfish when it came to his own needs. That Lenneth was proving to be that vital something that Lezard had gone too long without was a fact that he couldn’t, wouldn’t deny. Not even to the doubts and uncertainties that now tried to plague him, Lezard haunted by Lenneth, by the look in her eyes. That grief stricken horror, the steely eyed resignation, and the burgeoning love that the woman had to battle near constant against, Lenneth was both proud and brave in her defiance. In her commitment to her duty, that punishment that she thought was a penance for her failures.
