by GR Griffin
Lenneth didn't know why she was so surprised. She should have known it would be difficult to see Lezard, to talk with him so soon after the events of the night before. It had been difficult enough just speaking to him after the near kiss he had given her in the workshop. But now to have been held by him, kissed a dozen times over, her body embraced by his? It was sheer torture, a mortifying nightmare she couldn't help replaying over and over in her mind.
It was all because of the love enchantment of Odin's. Lenneth was sure of it. She would never be so weak as to succumb to a man otherwise. And yet that was exactly what she was doing, becoming as docile as Lezard had noted Lenneth had been. It burned that she had been so conflicted by his attentions that all Lenneth could do was lay there and endure. Almost as much as it hurt that she was so conflicted and caught off guard that she babbled incessantly about the need to be loved, to mean something more to him. Her vulnerabilities were showing, from her actions to the way she spoke to him, Lenneth revealing how his touches, his kisses and attention had left her in a frozen state of inaction.
It was embarrassing. Painful. Something in her chest hurt, a tight, suffocating feeling filling her. She almost dropped the sword, lifting her other hand to grab at her bodice. But that didn't stop the pain, Lenneth suffering in the moment. Trembling as flashes of memory came to her. Both of the previous night in her bedroom, and of the conversation she had taken part of just minutes ago. Neither one was something she could defend against, the sword useless against this powerful but intangible opponent.
Lenneth remembered being swept away in the midst of Lezard's kisses. How even her legs had seemed to give out in the advent of his lip's sweet pressure on her own. If Lezard hadn't taken her into his arms, Lenneth would have surely fallen, so unsteady had her legs become.
He had carried her to the bed, lowering her onto it's softness and quickly pinning her in place with his own body. And barely did he stop from kissing her, not even to allow them both a chance to catch their breaths, let alone their senses. The shortness of breath only intensified the sensations, Lenneth dizzy, her head spinning in confused circles. The urge to push him away had quickly been superseded by the need to accept him. Lenneth had warred within herself, torn over what to do, and even then her confusion only grew worse each second the kisses lasted.
By the time Lezard had finally deigned to pull back, Lenneth was gasping for breath. Her chest had felt tight, her body trapped in the confines of the nightgown. It's silk material had felt too restrictive, and though it had been a light fabric, she had suddenly felt overheated. That hot feeling only increased with Lezard staring at her, his eyes drinking in her appearance.
She had been reeling from the kisses, from the assault of the emotions he stirred up within her. New sensations had filled her, things Lenneth had no previous experience with. Certainly the kiss Lezard had used to awaken her could not compare to the kisses he gave her now. There had been a similarity to the almost kiss they had shared in the workshop, but it's intensity had been amplified. Lenneth had been frightened by the near kiss, that brief touch of Lezard's lips. Now she was downright traumatized, fearing each caress of his lips further cemented her downfall.
Even worse, Lenneth had been reaching a point where she had no longer CARED. And that had frightened her all the more. It had renewed her internal struggles, Lenneth trying to take a stern tone in response to the sickening sweetness of her own desires. Lenneth had repeatedly told herself the desire she felt wasn't hers. It was Odin's spell. And yet that wasn't enough to get her to stop yearning, Lenneth laying still. As much a victim to the potion as she had been to Lezard.
There was only one small victory, one relief Lenneth could take from it all. As much as the potion made her want to be loved and desired by him, it hadn't forced her to do anything supremely foolish as to touch him back. That would have been the ultimate in disasters! Instead Lenneth had just laid there, her arms limp at her sides as she stared up at Lezard. She hadn't even been able to close her eyes, not even to block out the heated looks he gave her, or the approach of his next kiss.
Those looks of his was almost as dangerous as his kisses. Lenneth remembered how he looked at her. As if she was something to be savored, his gaze near worshipful. Was it because she had once been a Goddess that Lezard looked so reverent as he handled her hair? Or was Lenneth fooling herself into thinking she had meant something more to him? That she and that moment had been anything more than scratching the itch of his desire.
Lenneth could have moaned in despair just then. But she wouldn't make such an undignified sound, though she remained leaning against the wall for it's support. Lenneth also knew she had been wrong with what she had told Lezard just minutes ago. She wouldn't be strong enough to overcome the potion, not when combined with Lezard's touches and kisses. Lenneth could be as wary as she liked, but ultimately Lezard would be her downfall. Even worse, that downfall would happen soon. They were set to wed the next day! Lenneth knew what expectations there were of a bride to her husband. And she very much doubted there would be a reprieve from it, Lezard going farther than kissing and a few touches.
She would not be able to endure. Lenneth was positive of that. Her will was strong, but last night had proved it was not strong enough. Odin's enchantment would prevail, she WOULD love Lezard if the marriage was consummated. That realization made her feel ill, her shaking increasing. Lenneth truly did not know what to do, she was in exile from Asgard. But she didn't, couldn't accept her punishment. Lenneth was clinging to the hope she could discover something that would let her gain back Odin's favor. Something that would reveal Hel's true intentions in forming this alliance.
So far she hadn't been successful. But then Lenneth had been very much distracted by the feelings she was enduring. These first time experiences were strange, a distraction she couldn't afford. And yet Lenneth knew she had to get close to Lezard, since he was the most likely to have the information she needed. But right now she couldn't bear to be around him, not when the memories of last night were so strong an embarrassment.
Time was running out. Lenneth knew that. And not just for her. Asgard itself was most likely in danger, Hel and her armies sure to be it's downfall. Odin was too trusting a fool if he believed otherwise. Lenneth still could not understand what Hel could have offered Odin to get the God to even consider an alliance. It would not be the first time she worried about the state of things in regard to the war with Brahms and his undead legions.
It was extremely frustrating to be amidst Asgard's enemies, and not have any real proof of wrong doing. But Lenneth welcome the frustration, for it allowed a distraction from her troubles with love and desire. Her shaking would settle down, Lenneth able to stand straight once more. The pain in her chest wouldn't lessen, but Lenneth was able to ignore it for now.
Recovered, Lenneth would leave the room. No one would be the wiser for her moment of collapse, Lenneth walking through the castle corridors as though nothing had happened. She would return the sword to the room that worked as the caste guard's station. The man who had lent it to her was not present, but those that were had evinced an interest in sparring with Lenneth at a later date and time. She had made no promises, just forcing a faint smile on her face as she thanked them for the morning's duel.
The fight had been just what she needed, Lenneth working out a lot of hidden aggression by dueling with the guardsmen. But any good the morning's fight had done her, was quickly undone. And all because of the conversation she had with Lezard. Just recalling his attempts at apologies, and his near sheepish admittance that he didn't remember much if anything of what had happened, it was enough to upset Lenneth.
It hurt. Truly and honestly it did. She understood he had been drunk, but a part of Lenneth wondered if she was that forgettable to him. Lezard didn't remember, while she couldn't forget, the woman remembering how she had squirmed beneath his hands' caress. She had undulated, moving in a way Lenneth had never, ever done before. Only to have Lezard pass out jus
t seconds after.
The passing out had saved her, and for the longest time she had just laid there with his heavy weight on top of her. Eventually, when it got to be too much of a burden, Lenneth had struggled out from beneath him. She ended up spending the night sleeping in a chair, uncomfortable but nowhere near as much had she remained in bed with Lezard.
The memories continued to repeat, Lenneth realizing there was no way she wanted to return to her room. Not with it tainted, the memories of last night a strong reminder of what had almost happened. If she could, Lenneth would never return to that room. Anymore than she would allow herself to be alone with Lezard. But Lenneth knew she couldn't stay away. Their impending marriage would force them together, as would her search for proof.
Lenneth held in a sigh, understanding everything she did today was just a delay to returning to that bedroom. But she couldn't force herself to return just yet, even though she had little else to occupy her time. She had no set responsibilities, existing as nothing more than Lezard's fiancee. Maybe that would change after they were married, a purpose being found for Lenneth. But for now she was aimless, drifting through the castle not quite in a daze.
In her current state, Lenneth would have been content to forget all about the need to visit the castle seamstress. However the woman herself, was not so easily dismissed. She'd actually come looking for Lenneth, the woman latching onto the former Goddess' arm. Lenneth couldn't even think of a viable protest, still too taken with her own private distress where Lezard and her emotions were concerned.
Lenneth would find herself drag into one of the rooms allocated to the seamstress and her servants. Those women, a mix of girls barely in the flush of adult hood, to even a few elderly ladies, all stopped what they were doing to stare. The seamstress, a woman in her late forties, whose brown hair was already streaking with gray, only allowed them a brief respite from their work. And then she was clapping her hands together.
"All right girls!" She snapped in a brusque tone. "We have much to do, those clothes won't sew themselves." The group of women did not so much as grumble, turning back to the fabric on their laps. Lenneth looked around, noticing that much of the space was taken up with chairs for the women to sit down as they worked. An adjacent room would be filled with fabric bolts, along with half finished outfits sitting on mannequins. It was to this room Lenneth was directed towards, the seamstress bidding Lenneth to go and change into the dress she would wear for her wedding.
The door would close behind the woman, giving Lenneth the privacy to change clothes. Lenneth could not keep from sighing, but ultimately she removed her purple and silver gown to slide on the wedding dress. It was made a soft silk, the fabric holding a slight chill to it as it clung to her body. Lenneth would smooth her hands down the dress, thinking there was not much the seamstress would have to do to adjust it's fit on her. And then she turned and caught sight of her reflection in a nearby mirror.
She couldn't keep from staring, Lenneth taken aback by how lovely she looked in this gown. The gown chosen for the ceremony was a dress of white and silver brocade. It had a square neck that was cut extremely low on her cleavage. It was almost lower than was proper, the swell of her breasts being revealed. The sleeves were long and full, gathering at her wrists. The long slash of it was held by four silver bows who allowed small openings to reveal hints of her arms. While the material clung to her breasts, the rest was without shape, the skirts descending downwards from a silver ribbon that tied just under her breasts.
The skirts descended all the way to the floor, hiding her feet from sight. Lenneth had not been given any slippers to wear, nor had they bothered to adorn her hair. But even without the adornments and jewels, she made a stunning picture. Lenneth could only stand there stunned, wondering at who this vision was. And all because she looked as far removed from a Valkyrie as she possibly could. She looked like a woman, but one meant to be admired for her beauty. One meant to inspire desire in the hearts of men. Even one meant to stir jealousy in women.
Lenneth wasn't sure she liked this change. And all because Lenneth didn't want to be any of those things. Nor did she like what the dress symbolized, that of a bride about to be married. She revolted against it, against the dress and against the impending ceremony. If Lenneth had retained the sword, she would have surely taken the blade to the dress, savagely sliced it apart even as she knew it's destruction was delaying NOTHING.
Lenneth grumbled softly under her breath, turning away from the mirror. There was no point in delaying it, the woman walking over to the door. The seamstress was waiting to the side of it, her expression anxious as she took a look at Lenneth. Her eyes turned critical, the woman looking over the Valkyrie for any signs of imperfection. The other servants had once again stopped what they were doing, staring at Lenneth.
The Valkyrie would find herself standing on a pedestal, the seamstress and one of the older women walking around her in circles. Occasionally hands would reach out to touch a part of her dress, checking to see if it could not be adjusted to fit more tightly against Lenneth's chest, or checking on an imperfect seam. Lenneth endured this, seemingly ignored by the seamstress now that she was working.
The other women continued to sew, every once and a while glancing up as the seamstress made some loud comment. Lenneth would fix her gaze on the open window, staring longingly at the outside forest. But she didn't miss when the door opened to the room, a single pair of footsteps announcing the arrival of a new comer. At the woman's voice, Lenneth turned, ignoring the seamstress' protests.
"Well!" Mystina was gazing at Lenneth, an admiring look in her eyes. "Don't you look pretty." She smiled, though it looked a little to forced to be real. "You will make a lovely bride."
Lenneth was hardly pleased at that, but she forced a response out. "Thank you."
"Mismerlla, you've simply outdone yourself." Mystina said, glancing at the seamstress.
The woman face lit up, the seamstress beaming with pride. "Thank you my lady. This dress has been my masterpiece. It has taken nearly three weeks to get it complete."
"Three weeks?" Lenneth couldn't hide her surprise. "You've known about my coming for that long?"
"Well, yes..." Mismerlla admitted. "We've known about A Valkyrie coming to wed our Lord for quite some time now."
Lenneth didn't know what kind of expression she wore, but it earned Mystina's laughter. Her green eyes twinkled, the sorceress amused as she spoke to Lenneth. "It takes TIME to plan a wedding. Even one as rushed as this."
"Of of course....I did not think..." Lenneth said.
"I'm glad we went with the silver instead of the gold." Mismerlla touched one of the ribbons on Lenneth's sleeves. "This color brings out the platinum of your hair, makes it more striking than the gold would have. Lord Lezard had good foresight to insist on it."
Lenneth did not think anything strange of that. She certainly didn't take it to mean Lezard knew he would have a Valkyrie bride with her coloring coming to him.
"And what of the groom?" Mystina asked. "What will our Lord be wearing?"
"Ah....the suit is over this way." Mismerlla gestured for Lenneth and Mystina to follow her over to the next room. There was a mannequin near the back, dressed in a light gray suit. The suit had a dark navy accent that was almost black, forming elaborate curlicues on the sleeves end, and the jacket's bottom. It was clearly made of an expensive fabric, but to Lenneth it looked like any other suit she had seen on the men in Flenceburg except it's pattern was a little more ornate. A shirt as dark as the accents would go beneath the jacket, it's cravat a frilly mess held back by a gold clip that had an amethyst in it's center. The sleeves were a fine lace, that would protrude beneath the jacket and cover the back of Lezard's hands.
"Very nice." Mystina said approvingly. "Lezard might even look respectable in this." Mismerlla actually gasped in response, but the sorceress merely winked at Lenneth. The Valkyrie found her lips twitching, she was nearly tempted to smile if only in response to the seamstress'
scandalized reaction. But she managed her response, Lenneth trying for a curious angle.
"Are the clothing your servants are working on all for the wedding tomorrow?"
"Heavens no!" Mismerlla had recovered enough to let out a nervous laugh. "No, most of the clothing for that blessed occasion have been finished days ago. No, what my girls work on is the wardrobe your betrothed has ordered for you."
Lenneth paused, realizing then that the clothing the women had handled had been predominately dresses. She felt disappointed, positive the gowns would not be ideal for fighting in. But then, she wasn't expected to fight anymore. Lenneth was supposed to become a bride, a good wife to the man Odin had given her to. Any smile she had wanted to do, had died down with that thought, Lenneth fighting not to sigh.
And yet Mystina noticed, flashing Lenneth a look that might almost be pity. It only upset the Valkyrie further, Lenneth not wanting the sorceress or anyone else to pity her. "Come Mismerlla. Let us let Lenneth change." Mystina was already guiding the seamstress out of the room. Lenneth was glad for the privacy, careful even in her hurried actions as she stripped out of the wedding gown. By the time she got her purple and silver dress back on, she was back to being composed, no sign of her true feelings playing out on her face.
Only to have them stirred up again by Mystina's next comment, the blonde woman looking at Lenneth with a mischievous light in her green eyes, "I was away from the castle, but already everyone is talking about it."
"It?" Lenneth asked blankly.
"Yes, it!" Mystina laughed. "I am quite saddened to have missed out on such a show. And with you as the star!"
Giggles started from one corner of the room, Mismerlla hissing out the servant to be quiet. Lenneth just stood there and stared at Mystina, thinking the worse of her words. Her first thought was that Mystina knew, that EVERYONE present, maybe everyone in the castle knew about last night. And that left her mortified, Lenneth sure she was paling in response.
