by GR Griffin
Again that flash of envy, Mystina not quite able to hide it. "No." She expelled a breath, than forced a smile. "No. I have not had that honor. I may be powerful, but I am no match for Lezard's skill." A pause, and then almost to soft to hear. "No one is..."
"No one?" Lenneth echoed surprised.
"Well, no one among the mortals." Mystian clarified. "He is without match among his peers. It is truly outstanding, considering the humble beginnings he came from."
"Humble beginnings?" Lenneth didn't need to do more than that to prod Mystina into talking.
"He was orphaned at birth." Mystina explained, and Lenneth felt her heart clench in response. It was a reaction surely brought on by Odin's enchantment, a pang of the heart that tried to make her sympathize with her husband to be. "Never knew his parents...never even knew who they were. No one knew. But there's all kind of speculations. People think they must have been powerful mages in their own right, their skills passed onto him. But...no one knows why they would have chosen to abandon the child....especially a child with such potential."
She shrugged then. "It wouldn't take long for that potential to manifest. Before he was even out of diapers, he was doing petty tricks to entertain himself. Rather than be annoyed, his caretakers were ecstatic. It wouldn't take long for Lezard to be given the best of educations, nothing denied him where knowledge was concerned." Again that envious look, Mystina's lips pursing in a sour expression. "It was unusual. Such an education is expensive, the kind of expense that only the nobles can afford. And yet such was Lezard's potential, they let him have access to that knowledge without fee."
"Nothing is truly without fee." Lenneth objected, thinking that especially true in the lands rule by Hel.
"Perhaps. But from what I've seen, Lezard has yet to pay the price for all he's been given." Mystina sighed. "He's practically rules Flenceburg in Hels' place, has attained a status far higher than that of we nobles. He has a seat on Hel's inner council, he even has the Goddess' ear. He has a home, and immense wealth, and now a Valkyrie for a bride. When will the rewards stop?" Her hands clenched into fists. "He's been handed everything on a sliver platter practically since birth."
"You are jealous." Lenneth noted, and Mystina's eyes narrowed before she issued out a protest.
"Why should I be? Because he was given nearly everything that should have been mine? That he got with ease the life that I've worked so hard for?"
"I don't know how easy or hard his life was. He may have been given the things he needed to develop his magical skills...but he lost his chance at knowing his parents. At having a connection that should have been loving. He may be prospering now, but trust me. Hel will make him pay. She will make you all pay..." Lenneth trailed off, not wishing to further antagonize Mystina. But there was truth to her words, Lenneth knowing the price for following Hel was a steep one. Lezard, and even Mystina's souls were stained. Paradise would surely be denied them, they would never escape Hel's grasp.
And when the two ceased to be of use to Hel, the Goddess would take away all she had given them. Hel's blessings were always part curse. You could prosper one minute, and end up broken in the next. Lenneth wouldn't be surprised if the Goddess herself had been Lezard's benefactor, paying for his education.
"What do you know of it?" demanded Mystina, looking angry.
"You forget what I am...what I was." Lenneth corrected. "I have had dealings with Hel before. I know the goddess' mode of operation, and am familiar with how she builds up mortals, only to cut them down. It would be better if you forgot your ambition, forgot your jealousy and tried to do amends for your sins."
"Perhaps Lezard will tolerate your preaching. I will not." Mystina snapped, already turning to flounce off in anger. Lenneth was left with the impression that Mystina would probably never be her friend, even as the sorceress thirsted for the knowledge and divinity Lenneth possessed. This would not be the last run in she had with Mystina, of that Lenneth was sure.
As the stables' door slammed shut behind the blonde, Obsidian came forward to nuzzle his nose against Lenneth's back. She sighed, and reached behind her to touch him. "Perhaps I should not have said what I did..." Obsidian only snorted in response, nose moving about her dress as though searching for something. But Lenneth had no treats for the horse, much to her regret.
"But I could not stand seeing her lust so strongly for a path that only leads to ruin!" exclaimed Lenneth. "It is dangerous, this anger and envy she has for Lezard's so called good fortune. She could be a powerful enemy for him....not that I care." She added softly, trying to convince herself of that thought. She then turned to face Obsidian, hugging her arms around his neck.
"She could be a powerful enemy for me as well." Lenneth added as an afterthought. "I should be making friends, not antagonizing the people of this castle." Obsidian nuzzled her cheek, as though to remind her she had him for a friend. "Thank you." She said, still hugging the stallion. She then stepped back, Lenneth looking him over. "It is a beautiful day. And I think we both could use some fresh air. Will you let me ride you?"
A whinnied out retort, the horse almost responding as though he really understood Lenneth. She thought that pure fancy on her part, but was greatly cheered by the interaction with the horse. A ride was definitely what she needed, and would give her the illusion of a freedom she felt she did not have.
Turning away from Obsidian, Lenneth would walk out of his stall and over to where the tack and saddles were kept. The saddle was heavier than she expected, a stark reminder to her that she no longer possessed the strength of a Goddess. But she managed somehow, struggling with the saddle's burden as she walked back to the stall. But she was a long way from putting it on Obsidian, the doors opening to reveal her betrothed.
"Lezard." Lenneth felt a fluttering of her heart in response to the sight of him. He looked her over, gaze lingering not on her dress but the saddle she held. "I was just going for a ride." A hesitation then. "If that is permitted of me?"
"You are not my prisoner Lenneth." Lezard tried to reassure her. She nodded in understanding, privately relieved to hear that. "You can do as you please, provided you don't step past the cities' borders."
"Because of the warding?"
He nodded, walking towards her. "I just passed by Mystina. She was...visibly upset. Had some choice things to say about you."
"I may have spoken more freely than I should have." Lenneth admitted. She would not allow Lezard to take the saddle from her, not wanting to appear as a weak woman in need of a man's help.
"She'll get over it." Lezard decided.
"I wonder about that." Lenneth murmured, and continued back to Obsidian's stall.
"Which horse were you thinking of riding?" Lezard asked as he followed her.
She answered without hesitation. "Obsidian."
"Obsidian?" He reacted with extreme alarm, shaking his head no. "It is not wise. Obsidian isn't tamed. He will not tolerate saddle or bridal. And he's thrown the last three riders who have tried to ride him bareback."
"I think he will allow me to ride him." Lenneth replied, but Lezard took hold of her arm to prevent her from stepping into the horse's stall.
"You can't know that for sure. He is a wild, savage creature. I think his spirit will never be broken. I only keep him around as a stud to the mares."
"You just never had the right person deal with him." Lenneth said, patient though she glanced pointedly down at his hand gripping her arm. But Lezard did not let her go, actually drawing her away from the stall.
"If you must ride, please...some other steed. I don't want to risk you." He looked uncomfortable then. "You are mortal now. People have DIED from being thrown from a horse. Or have been horrible crippled."
She hesitated at that, realizing it was a valid point. But she still wanted to ride Obsidian, to prove the horse was just misunderstood. By her silence, Lezard interpreted it to mean she was in agreement with him, the man already trying to drag her to another horse's stall. "Come...we'll saddle Euph
riatates and Phandir. We can go for a ride together before breakfast."
She abruptly dropped the saddle, just missing Lezard's foot. He was startled enough to let go, and Lenneth took advantage of her renewed freedom to enter Obsidian's stall. Lezard cried out in protest, sounding panicked. Obsidian however, was overjoyed to see her, whinnying and nuzzling her affectionately. Lenneth couldn't help but be smug as she looked at Lezard as she hugged the horse.
"I have made my decision." Lenneth announced. "And poor Obsidian is suffering from neglect. He needs to be ridden, needs to go outside."
"All right. Fine." Lezard conceded. "If you can get him to tolerate the saddle and bridal, then you will have convinced me." Lenneth didn't quite grin, satisfied with his challenge. What's more, she knew she would succeed his expectations where Obsidian was concerned.
Crooning softly to the stallion, petting him into compliance, Lenneth would get the saddle on the horse. The bridle bit took a bit of coaxing, but eventually the stallion was ready to be ridden. Lenneth's gown awkwardly puffed up around her as she sat in the saddle, Lezard hurrying to get his own horse ready. His was a stallion that was smaller than Obsidian, a dappled brown and white creature that lacked fire to his spirit.
Together they would slowly ride the horses out of the stable, Lezard laying out the route they would take into the heart of the city. Lenneth listened intently to his directions, sure she had them memorized. Lezard still wore amazement that she was on Obsidian, his tone gruff as he asked a question of her. "You ready?"
She nodded. "Just try and keep up." Lenneth told him, and with a click of her tongue and heels, had Obsidian break into a racing gallop. She heard Lezard's shout out her name, and it made her want to laugh. It seemed even her fiancee had not expected the speed of the horse, being left behind in Obsidian's dust. Of course he would try to catch up to her, but the dappled stallion was no match for the ebony beauty. Lenneth knew she would lead Lezard on a merry chase, and enjoy every minute of it too.
Chapter 13: Thirteen
He was warm with blood, the nourishing drink coursing through his veins. A flush of pleasure was on his face, visible proof that he had fed recently, the blood giving color to his cheeks. Brahms still had the taste of the girl he had drank from in his mouth, the blood paling in comparison to the sweet drink he had taken off of the former Valkyrie Silmeria. Even days later, he still vividly recalled the taste of Silmeria's divine blood, enough to want to moan over it.
She wouldn't taste the same now. Not after the change to her very nature. But Brahms knew he could never hate his bride's taste, even if her blood now bore the taint of the vampire in it. Silmeria's taste would be uniquely hers, and something Brahms would enjoy. Just as Silmeria would enjoy the taste of Brahms, if she would only give in to his urgings to feed.
The first night had passed without success in that endeavor. Silmeria had steadfastly refused to give in, ignoring the needs of her body. Brahms felt frustrated over that, even as he was impressed by her strong will. He wondered if she would resist the need to feed on this, the second night of her life as a newborn vampire. Could she be strong enough to starve herself unto the third night? He didn't know. But it pained Brahms that he had had to feed separate from her.
He felt guilt too. Perhaps perversely, he had wanted to endure Silmeria's fast together with her. As though suffering through hunger pangs together, would bring them closer together. But there was risk in starving himself. Risk to Silmeria. Blood gave him control, made him act like something other than a fledgling. With fresh blood in him, he could control his desire for her, remain level headed instead of needy and lustful. It would keep him from jumping on her like a hungry, sex starved fledgling.
There was another advantage to being fresh on blood. He would be able to better feed Silmeria, should she give in to her need to feed. Last night, he had expended much of the precious liquid, trying to tempt her into feeding. Brahms had replenished what he had lost and then some, full of enough blood to feed a starving fledging and even a third vampire.
He passed by vampires as he walked to the room he had given up to Silmeria. As much as he had wanted to sleep the day away with her in his arms, Brahms had known she was not ready for such a step. Even if all they would have done was sleep!
Brahms wondered if Silmeria had risen yet. It was still early evening, not even an hour since the sun had set. Newly created fledglings had difficulties their first few months, groggy and slow to awake. It was important that they had an elder vampire be their protector, to watch over them until they became more alert and aware. Silmeria had proved surprising as a fledgling, Brahms recalling how instantly alert she had become upon seeing him. And not just that she had shaken off her sleep so fast, but her strength and speed had been far too impressive for a mere fledgling.
Brahms had theories about that. The chief one being Silmeria had been a Valkyrie once. That some essence of her divinity had clung to her, enough to mutate the transformation. She was the first divine to be made into a vampire, the first save for one other. And Brahms was well aware of how that one had fared, his lips quirking in a humorless smile as he fought against the memories.
It wasn't just Silmeria's divinity infused blood. Brahms himself had used HIS blood to transform her into a vampire. Something he hadn't done in several centuries worth of time. Brahms understood his blood was powerful, and constantly evolving to become even stronger. To the point some of his own power could have been transferred unto Silmeria. Between the two potent bloodlines, he may have created a powerful new kind of vampire.
Or maybe it was just a fluke, a rare occurrence. Perhaps tonight Silmeria would be as weak as any other fledgling. But as Brahms approached the locked door to the bedroom Silmeria was imprisoned in, already he could hear her moving about it's confines. She was awake and active, and seconds later would let out a very unladylike curse.
He immediately unlocked the door, outwardly calm as he walked inside the room. Silmeria was standing by the window, an angry glare on her face. She didn't deign to acknowledge Brahms, instead rubbing a hand against her dark purple skirts. He could smell the faint scent of magic discharged, and from the evidence presented, surmised the ward on the window had been activated. Silmeria had not heeded his warnings, actually testing the enchantment on the window in an attempt to see if it was a viable escape route.
He didn't reproach her for it, didn't call attention to what he had noticed. Instead Brahms locked the door behind him, then walked towards Silmeria. Like him, she had changed into clean clothes, no sign of blood on the white top. Her blond hair was loose and wild, as though she had run her claws through it. Brahms glanced at her hands, and noted her claws were still there. Silmeria had never calmed down enough to have them revert to normal, even when she had slept.
Brahms made a tsking sound, hands already reaching out for hers, She didn't gasp, but she turned, trying to bat his hands away. Brahms was patient, catching one in his grip. "They will never go back to normal, so long as you are unable to calm yourself." Silmeria just narrowed her beautiful blue eyes at him, glaring silently as he began massaging the hand that he held.
"I know this is a trying time for you. For us." Brahms told her. He was working over her fingers, trying to relax the tension from her hands. Unfortunately the very act he was doing, was making it difficult for Silmeria to be anything but tense. "But this stress is not good for you. Not good for your body." Still she only glared at him, fingers stiff in response to his massage. "Stress only serves to agitate the hunger, to make your need more pressing."
Not even that had gotten her to speak to him, Brahms holding in a sigh. It appeared she was determined to give him the silent treatment, a punishment for the temptations he had offered her, and the truths he had tried to reveal to her. Truths that weren't even half revealed, Silmeria refusing to consider any of what he said about Odin, about the war, as real.
Brahms could acknowledge that perhaps he had gone about it all wrong. That he had been less than tac
tful, insulting both her King, and the very Valkyries who had been her sisters in arms. He inwardly cringed and cursed, remembering the crude comment he had made about the Valkyries expected service. A comment that had earned him her anger and a slap on the face.
Brahms couldn't win her over to the truth if he continued to blunder about, disrespecting everything she believed in. Even if those beliefs were all based on lies. He was impatient for her to know everything, but more than that he wanted her to realize he spoke the truth. But it would be difficult for Silmeria, the girl finding out her entire existence, her purpose had been based on Odin's lies. There would be a domino effect, one thing after another falling apart in the face of the truth. But as things shattered, new pieces would fill the void, letting Silmeria see the truth wasn't nearly as horrific as she had thought.
He had time. They both did. Brahms understood that when he rushed, he made a mess of things with her. He could hold off on talks of Odin, maybe even of the war. Though he desperately wanted her to see the war wasn't as black and white as she had been led to believe. That his people, the vampires had a legitimate reason for fighting. One that had nothing to do with them being evil, and doing it for fun and profit.
Odin and the war were topics he should avoid, but perhaps a lesson on vampires was needed. It was as he had said, there was much she didn't know. Much she needed to understand, about the very nature of the vampires. He held her gaze as he massaged her hand, but already realized it was a fruitless endeavor. She would not relax enough for her claws to revert back to human nails.
"Silmeria..." She immediately cut him off, a petulant request being issued out.
"I want out of this room."
"That's not possible." She huffed angrily, and jerked her hand free from his. "At least not yet."
