by GR Griffin
“A cost?” Lezard had sputtered in disbelief, watching as Odin had then smiled at him.
“You have asked me for two extremely valuable prizes. But you only offer me enough service for ONE.” Odin’s expression had blazed malevolent, his smile twisting into an expression of pure evil. “”If you take a Valkyrie as your bride, Asgard’s paradise will be forever denied to you.” The God had paused, sneering down at Lezard’s shocked expression. “What will it be mortal?” Odin had then asked, leaning forward in his seat, intent on the mage’s answer. “Lenneth or paradise?”
Once if told of this dilemma, Lezard wouldn’t have even hesitated, the man certain of just what he would have chosen. The Lezard of just a day ago, wouldn’t have dreamed of anything else, eternity’s paradise that coveted a goal. One frozen moment on the Plains of Idavoll had changed all that, the remembered vision of supreme loveliness bolstering his strength. With not a single ounce of hesitation, without even any regrets, or a second thought, Lezard had boldly met the Lord God’s sneer, and had stated the following.
"I would rather have a lifetime of paradise with Lenneth as my bride, then spend an eternity in Asgard without her."
There had been an unreadable look in the God’s eyes, Odin having stared down at him. “So be it.” He had agreed in a grave tone of voice, the very building itself then shaking in the advent of those three simple words. The very promise of them had been written into Lezard’s soul, the bargain sealed and made irreversibly final.
Even then he hadn’t known regret, Lezard calm and accepting rather than panicked by what he had just done. Lenneth had been all that he had been able to think about, all that he had wanted to focus on, Lezard eager to learn any and everything that there was about his bride to be. Odin hadn’t let him, the God instead insisting that they had had much to talk about. Everything from the plans Hel had been making, to the reason behind the shortage of new warriors. The hows and they whys of what she had done. Lezard had told Odin it all, had endured the questions and the fury, Odin enraged by Hel and her mad schemes. The schemes that had been working, her interference such that the Valkyrie had barely been able to gather any new soldiers for Odin’s war.
All in all, it had taken a good four hours to satisfy the enraged God and his questions, Lezard exhausted by what had amounted to an interrogation. Odin hadn’t allowed the mage the same kind of scrutiny, the God evasive when asked just when and how Lenneth would arrive in Flenceburg. The one and only reassurance that Lezard had had was that the Goddess would not be hurt in the process.
Lezard had never dreamt of the mental anguish that Odin would instead inflict on his Valkyrie. The hurt and the grief, Lenneth the one and only survivor of an ambush that should have seen all of the Asgardians dead. Tortured by the guilt of it, and by the loss of her sister, Lenneth had arrived and been blindsided by a truth she should have already known and been prepared for.
~Damn him!~ Lezard had thought again. He was so angry with Odin, so angry and so hurt, and made absolutely furious by Odin’s neglect. By the sabotage he had done, Odin quick to turn his back on a promise, and leaving Lenneth to think that she was being punished.
It was more than just the lack of information that Lenneth had been given, the explanations that Odin himself had owed her. It was the danger the God had let his Valkyrie walk into, Lezard sickened by the idea that for the grace of the undead king, Lenneth would have instead died in the ambush’s slaughter.
The danger and the lack of explanations all the things that went against what Odin had promised, Lezard couldn’t help wondering just what else the God might have gone back on. Just what else woud he try, Lezard determined to not let Odin have so complete a victory in making a mess of his private life. The mage would fight tooth and nail for his happiness, for his chance at a future with Lenneth as his bride. That sweet bliss that he had so sought now seemed all but impossible, the odds stacked so neatly against him, Lenneth horrified by what she had discovered. She hadn’t even been able to hide it, the woman’s lack of expertise when it came to deceit and to subterfuge apparent, her eyes, her very expression open and honest, and thoroughly affected by the spell. That love that she was enchanted to feel, it hindered her further, Lenneth frustrated and struggling, trying to keep from being taken over by the full effects of Odin’s enchantment.
It left her in a constant state of assault, Lenneth’s mind in agony, tortured not just by Odin, not just by the loss of her sister and her comrades, but by the very love that the Valkyrie had been enchanted to feel. It was that love, that struggle that made her so honest, that left her unable to school her expressions, Lenneths every horrified thought laying revealed in the stricken gleam of her eyes.
She didn’t hate him. She COULDN’T, Odin’s enchantment simply too strong. It didn’t stop the fear and the upset, the blatant horror from manifesting, Lenneth reeling in place. She was a pale skinned perfection, the dismay of her expression an equally arresting sight. The woman’s mouth actually trembled with her upset, the determined set of her jaw offset by the defiance that struggled to blaze bright in her eyes. She wasn’t happy. With him, or with where she had ended up, and Lezard couldn’t blame her. Not when he knew how it might feel to be in her shoes, to have had the position and power reversed.
Of course, if by some reason, Lezard had been the one to find himself stranded in an enemy nation, the mage would have also found a way to make the best of the situation. He was after all anything but stupid, Lezard quite calculating and sly. There was a brilliance to him, a mad genius that didn’t just have to do with his magic, Lezard able to both manipulate and play the game of those around him. It was what he had thrived at, Lezard working the angles so that he had always emerged on top. He had fought, schemed and earned his way to his position, Lezard lord of a nation.
Flenceburg was both the only home that the man had ever known, and the field in which he had honed all of his skills. It was a nation that could and would break you, an immense strength need to survive it. That strength had always been a part of Lezard, the man all but clawing his way from the cradle to the throne. He had stepped on so many, had done so much evil in the name of surviving, and never had the sorcerer had a true need to protect another. Never had he wanted to, and never like the way he now did with Lenneth.
It wasn’t that he thought the former Goddess a weakling. But there was a vulnerability to her, a softness exposed that had everything to do with her mental torment, that hurt that she was feeling made all the stronger by the enchantment that she was under. Lezard wanted to spare her from it, wanted to take Lenneth into his embrace and assure her that everything would turn out all right. He had no real guarantees of it, Lezard aware that Lenneth was in danger, surrounded by enemies of a far different kind.
What might be her greatest threat had then appeared, a large group of women spilling out into the hall. The relative quiet of the servants were disrupted by the giggling gaggle of nobles, the women dressed in their brightly colored and expensive finery, enough silken frills and imported lace to profit an entire kingdom.
The wealth was on display, but not so much a sense of good taste. The women in their form fitting, and revealing clothing, lighting up with excitement at the sight of their Lord. At the sight of the women with him, the group hurrying forward.
“There he is!” Came the exclamation, the crowd parting enough so that a tall leggy blonde would take the lead. Her gold spun hair had been left unadorned, and had blazed bright against the deep purple of her gown. There was an emerald colored lacing edging her bodice’s curves, the waist cinched tight to give her an even more slender appearance. She was admittedly beautiful, and yet Lezard had felt not a thing when it came to desire. Instead, the man had to stifle a groan at the sight of the woman, having hoped against hope that this moment could have been avoided.
“Hello Mystina.” Lezard couldn’t stop the audible sigh of exasperation, or keep the annoyance that he felt from showing. The man felt as though he had barely been heard, b
arely been noticed, Mystina and her group slinking past him with excited murmurs.
“Is that her?” One had asked. “Is that the Valkyrie?”
“Oh but she is lovely.” Another had sighed in admiration.
“Look at her hair!” Another had exclaimed. “I’ve never seen such an unnatural color.”
“It’s beautiful.” Another had whispered, trying to reach out to Lenneth. The Goddess had turned, side stepping the touch that would have stroke reverence over that braided hair, but there was no avoiding the group of woman who had moved to surround her.
“Ladies, don’t crowd her so!”
“Oh, do relax, Lezard.” It had been Mystina who had spoken, though her tone and her words had hardly been reassuring. “They’ve just never seen a Valkyrie before.” A murmur of agreement from her companions, the awestruck compliments continuing. They were all so focused on her appearance, and on what Lenneth had once been, the women scrutinizing the Valkyrie. Asking her a million and one questions, and seeming oblivious to the unease in the woman’s eyes.
It had been more than just unease. Lenneth had been tensing up for a fight, her fingers flexing as though she would curl her hands into a fist. Her eyes had kept on darting from one face to another, Lenneth trying to watch all of them, and failing to keep from being touched. The onslaught of questions continued, some of them bordering on rude. It didn’t seem to matter that Lenneth was not trying to answer ANY of them, Mystina and her group far too excited and curious to care.
If it had been anyone else, if it had been any other woman, Lezard might have been amused. Instead for Lenenth, a strange sort of pity roused on the heels of his strong surging anger. The magic crackled inside him, raised the hairs on everyone’s neck. A few wide eyed looks were cast his way, the more talented of the bunch sensing Lezard’s desire. His temptation to unleash an offensive spell. With that broiling energy inside him, with the power ghosting along his skin, most of the women wisely stepped out of his way. The blonde Mystina wore the utmost in annoyed expressions, the woman glaring narrowed eyes at him as Lezard reached forward and grasped hold of his Goddess’ hand. She didn’t quite flinch, Lenneth allowing Lezard to pull her free of the complaining group of women. Mystina’s voice would be the loudest, the angriest, the woman shouting after him that he wouldn’t be able to keep the Valkyrie all to himself. Lezard hadn’t bother to dignify that with an answer, instead breaking them into an abrupt run.
Chapter 8: Eight
Lenneth was still reeling from the horror of her discovery, from the knowledge that she was in the midst of an enemy nation. Her horror was only overshadowed by the facts she knew as truth, Odin trying to enchant her to love a man who followed the Underworld's Queen. Her King would have her be slave to him, her heart lost to a foolish love. There were no bars around her, but Lenneth felt the cage closing around her all the more surely. Flenceburg would be her prison, and this Lezard her jailor.
A lesser woman might have despaired then and there. But Lenneth was first and foremost a Valkyrie maiden, and she called upon the inner strength that had served her well for centuries of battle. She would not give in to her upset, nor would she panic. Not until she understood the situation better. Lenneth wondered if she was deluding herself into hoping there was a higher purpose for her arrival in Flenceburg. It was a sliver of hope she grasped onto, Lenneth wishing she could continue to do her holy work here in the midst of Asgard's enemies.
Her King might have betrayed her, but Lenneth would not turn her back on her former home land. Or on the Gods and Goddesses she had devoted her immortality to serving. She thought of the many Valkyries she had left behind, all sisters by the blade who would be disappointed if Lenneth simply gave up and accepted her fate to be nothing more than some damned man's wife.
That man was walking several feet in front of her, seeming far too trusting in presenting his back to her. Lezard must truly think she was tamed, and perhaps Odin's love enchantment did give him a measure of protection from Lenneth. She certainly found a reluctance seated deep inside her at the thought of striking down this man, though Lenneth was sure she could overcome it if pressed. After all, had she not already fought off the worse of Odin's spell? Her heart was still hers, even if every moment that passed was a struggle not to give in to love.
Lenneth's fingers were flexing, her hands itching to curl into fists. She stared at Lezard's back, trailing behind him by several paces. She wasn't looking at their surroundings anymore, not interested in his tour. She was too busy trying not to go mad, to not loose any semblance of control in a situation that was most definitely not hers to command.
She took stock of the situation in her mind, quickly noting the odds that were against her. She was left alone in an enemy nation, friendless and currently without weapons. What could Lenneth hope to do? What could she afford NOT to do? Even as she pondered these thoughts, Lenneth had a great deal many questions to ask. Lezard seemed the only source of information available to her currently. But Lenneth had seen how he had evaded her earlier question, the man harboring a reluctance to reveal the exact details of how he had come to acquire a Valkyrie as his bride.
She wondered at the need for secrecy in that regard. But it wasn't a question that needed to be answered now. Not when other matters pressed more insistently at her mind. Lenneth relaxed her hands, ready to demand answers in a point blank manner. It was beyond her to sweetly beguile Lezard into revealing what she wanted to know, Lenneth more used to forceful interrogation, than sly subterfuge.
She moistened her lips with her tongue, a nervous expression of her inner turmoil. Her lips started to part with a question, and then a door was violently thrown open. Lenneth immediately tensed, expecting an attack. She was hardly put at ease when a group of women hurried through the door, their arrival bringing a bustle of noise as they giggled and chattered, their clothing rustling.
"Ah! There he is!" The tallest of the women had noticed Lezard, her lips curving in a triumphant smile. She and her group would walk a path through the wide corridor, but most of them were looking not at Lezard but at Lenneth. The sight of the Valkyrie seemed to make the women talk even louder, eyes traveling over Lenneth's form, and nudging each other with elbows.
Lenneth didn't know what to make of this reaction, the Valkyrie still locked in a defensive posture. She may not have had any swords or daggers available to her, but her whole body could be used as a weapon. Nor did she assume the giggling group of finely dressed females were weak. They were after all in Flenceburg, and by the look of their fine clothing, part of the nobility. Lenneth knew enough of Flenceburg to know some of the most power mages were born of wealthy and noble families. And all because they were able to afford the best educations.
Lezard had greeted the leader of these women, giving the name Mystina to the tall blonde. Lenneth locked eyes with her for one instant, the bold green alight with curiosity. And then she was lost as the crowd of women hurried forward, Lenneth quickly finding herself surrounded. She tasted power emanating off at least two of the women, one stronger than the other. But there was no attack coming, the women more curious than hostile.
Lenneth didn't understand their curiosity, holding her defensive stand. Someone reached out for her hair, and Lenneth turned, ready to lash out with her arm to stop that touch. But just as quickly as she stopped one from touching her, three more were making the attempt. It wasn't just her hair they were interested in, one touching the heavy skirts of her dress, while another grazed a finger down Lenneth's arm.
She couldn't understand everything that was being said to her. The women were all talking a rapid mile a minute, voices mingling together. But Lenneth caught a fragment here and there, the women seeming in awe of her. Lenneth didn't understand it, anymore than she could fathom the reason behind the admiring gazes she was receiving.
"Ladies, don't crowd her so!" That was Lezard's voice, the man exasperated even as he tried to command the group.
"Relax Lezard!" The woman Mystina's
tone was more insolent than reassuring, a shrewd look in her eye as she gazed at Lenneth. "We just want to admire the Valkyrie!"
Lenneth was hardly appeased to hear that, nor was she at ease with the look the blonde gave her. The women were continuing to push in close, crowding her. Lenneth felt as though they were choking out the air around her, the women's looks unsettling. It reminded her of the feeling she had had on the battlefield the night before she was to escort Silmeria to Alfeim. When she had felt as though someone had been looking at her, past her armor and battle maiden exterior, to see the vulnerable woman beneath. She was very close to attacking, to lashing out in response to the women crowding her.
And then the questions started. Too many to follow, and even more she didn't want to answer.
"What's it like being a Goddess?"
"Is it true you're mortal now?"
"What's Asgard like?"
"Is Valhalla as beautiful as it is rumored to be?"
"Are all the Valkyrie as beautiful as you?"
And then, in the midst of all the questions, a hand grasped hers. Lenneth turned so fast, her braid whipped one of the females in the face. She didn't offer an apology, her eyes going wide as she met Lezard's. He didn't quite smile at her, tightening his hand around hers. Lenneth hesitated one brief moment, and then she gripped his hand back.
"What are your feelings for your new husband?" The focus of the questions had changed, the women now interested in the dynamic between Lezard and Lenneth. She still wouldn't answer, staring at Lezard's back as he began shoving the women aside with his free hand. He dragged her forward before the women could close the circle to trap her again, and all the while the ladies whined and protested his rescue of Lenneth.
"Lezard stop!" Mystina shouted over the protesting women. It was apparent though he would not listen, the woman huffing out an angry breath. "You can't keep the Valkyrie all to yourself!"
