by GR Griffin
Lenneth didn't think of herself as the marrying type. She had never seen herself as the type to settle down, and raise a family with some man. Lenneth still couldn't wrap her mind around the idea that that is what was expected of her now. That that is what her King himself had decreed she should do. She railed against the future set out before her, fought it in the only way she knew how.
Or at least she had tried. Lenneth fought to keep her shoulders from sagging, her partner then spinning her into the arms of a different man. Like all her previous dance partners, the man held her at a distance, careful of crossing the line between proper and lewd. They all knew none of them had the right to hold her close. That that privilege was reserved for Lenneth's husband, and him alone.
Dancing that wild, unrestrained dance, Lenneth tried to catch sight of Lezard as she moved. He was out there somewhere, caught up in the arms of one of the many women present. Something, perhaps Odin's enchantment, caused a stir of unrest in Lenneth that had nothing to do with her upset over being married. It was jealousy, pure and powerful in it's form. She didn't like the thought of Lezard spending time with another woman. Any more than Lenneth liked the fact that she could get jealous over the idea.
She wasn't the type to get possessive over a man. She knew that. Lenneth could recognize these feelings as unnatural, as engineered by Odin's love spell. And yet it didn't make what she was feeling any less real! It could drive her mad, all these unfamiliar, unwelcome feelings she suffered through daily. Predominately she dealt with love, the feeling unwanted and pulling her towards Lezard. That love made her nervous, made her worry incessantly. She feared it and him, and that was another thing for Lenneth to be upset about. And all because she wasn't used to fearing much of anything. Certainly not some mortal man!
She didn't fear Lezard exactly. She was frightened more of what he represented to her, the shackles that would be put on her heart and spirit if she gave into the love festering inside her. It wasn't a natural love she was fighting. Odin's enchantment would strip away her spirit, her personality and free will. Make her a slave of her husband, hopelessly devoted and endlessly yearning for him. And that was something Lenneth could not allow.
Perhaps that is why she had pinned her hopes on a desperate scheme. A plan that if successful, would have restored her to her former divine glory. Or so she had hoped. Lenneth did not know if it was even possible to regain what she had lost. Never had a Valkyrie, regardless of the circumstance that led to the Goddess' casting out, been brought back to Asgard. And never had that which had been rendered mortal, been allowed the privilege of ascending to anything more than that of the Gods' servants. Einherjar.
And yet she had had to try. To do anything Lenneth could, even if it meant clawing and crawling her way back to the heavens. The days before the wedding had been wasted, Lenneth trying and FAILING. She had not found out anything she could use, nothing that would allow her to curry favor with King Odin. She was defeated in the moment, yet Lenneth refused to give up on her quest. Even as the hours, the very minutes were counting down against her.
It was disappointing, downright upsetting that she hadn't been able to find proof of Hel's true intent before she had been forced to marry Lezard. A lesser woman might have despaired, or accepted it as a sign that she was meant to fail. But Lenneth, couldn't, wouldn't resign herself to her fate. To the love Odin had tried to enchant her with. Even as she knew the time was coming when the party would be at an end, Lenneth hung on to hope, little though it was.
Lenneth was DETERMINED. To not only expose Hel's planned treachery in the Asgard Nifleheim alliance, but to come through this night with her heart still belonging to Lenneth. But apprehension was strong within her. Lenneth still vividly recalled how she had reacted to Lezard. She had been frozen, succumbing to his touches and his kisses. And all the while knowing that with every touch, every caress he was strengthening the enchantment upon her. Damning Lenneth closer to loving him slavishly.
Lenneth tried to tell herself that she had been caught unaware. That she had been unprepared for the feelings that would be stirred up by Lezard's touch. She tried to convince herself that it would be different tonight. That she would be ready, and able to stave off those unwanted feelings. That she could make herself ice, impervious to the warming her heart was attempting to do.
It didn't lessen the apprehension she was feeling. Lenneth was terrified of losing herself. Of becoming a slave to emotions. There was so much at risk, not just the cost to herself, but the cost to Asgard as well. For Lenneth knew, if she gave in to the enchantment tonight, never again would she worry about exposing Hel's evil. Never again would Lenneth worry about her sisters, or about the people who lived up in the heavens. And that was simply unacceptable to Lenneth!
She didn't betray her thoughts as she danced. To look at Lenneth, one would never suspect the apprehension within her. They'd see the stoic face of a Valkyrie, the former Goddess unaffected by the concerns most brides would be having at the moment. They'd never know how frightened Lenneth was at the thought of consummating this marriage, and that was the way she preferred things.
A different man took hold of her hand, guiding her away from her current partner. There were no objections to this, people switching partners often. No one was with the person they had started the dance with, friends and strangers coming together with laughter. Lenneth almost envied them their carefree attitudes, the woman having little experience with such a show of merriment and joy.
She spun in fast circles, being guided around her partner's body. On one of her many turns, she saw him. Lezard. He was separated from her by at least a dozen bodies, a redhead in green dancing around him. But his eyes were all for Lenneth, staring at her as though she was the only one in the room. For him, that might very well be true, Lenneth turning flustered in response to the look in Lezard's eyes.
Two more spins, and she lost sight of him. The dancers had moved in such a way, that the sea of couples had swallowed him up. And yet she kept turning her gaze in that direction, trying to sight him one more. Sometimes she'd think she'd see the flash of his glasses, or see brown hair that could have been his. And then she was being pulled in the wrong direction, a new partner being most eager to dance with the former Goddess.
It would go on like this for all night if she let it. Her partners all seemed determined to keep Lenneth away from her husband, having pulled them apart almost immediately once the dancing had begun. Lezard hadn't had the chance to voice a protest, women waiting and eager for their turn at dancing with the lord of Flenceburg. Lenneth vaguely recalled Mystina mentioning something about the significance of the dance. Some sort of ritual or tradition that was doing nothing except to tire Lenneth out!
The whole day had been full of rituals. From the moment the sun had risen in the sky, things had been happening. There had been the bath meant to purify Lenneth both body and soul. The cleansing waters had been cold, as though they had meant to freeze out any impurities inside Lenneth. It had been a great relief when she had been allowed the much warmers waters of the bathhouse, and the other women had joined her in the pool. They had paid great attention and care to preparing Lenneth for the wedding. Fragrant herbs had been crushed into a paste, and mixed into the soapy water they had used to shampoo Lenneth's hair. Similar flowers floated in the water, every inch of Lenneth's skin being anointed with their perfumes.
There was meaning behind the flowers and the herbs used. They conferred the blessings of fertility, of health, and happiness. There was even ones for love, the flowers making some sort of heady perfume that was said to be both intoxicant and aphrodisiac. Lenneth had balked at the idea of wearing a supposed aphrodisiac, thinking the last thing she needed was to further encourage Lezard's interest in her.
The women had insisted, and an agreement was eventually reached. Only the tiniest amount would be used, enough to gain the blessings of the flower. The older women had disapproved of this, but the younger women had smiled, turning teasing. They h
ad outright stated that Lenneth was so beautiful, she would not need any flowers to entice her husband to her bed.
Those teasing words had brought an unfamiliar heat to Lenneth's face. She didn't think she had outright blushed, but Lenneth had been embarrassed all the same. And all because she knew they were right. Lezard did not need any additional enticement to find Lenneth attractive!
If ever she had been in doubt of Lezard's physical attraction to her, Lenneth need only remember how he had looked as they said their vows before Hel's priestess. The man hadn't been able to take his eyes off Lenneth, a dark heat in his expression that had been downright predatory. He WANTED her. Wanted her in a way that Lenneth had no experience with. In all the centuries she had lived, the only thing she had truly been desired for, was the blood in her veins. The power it would give the undead fiends who lusted after all Valkyrie.
Lezard didn't want Lenneth's blood. It held no use for him. He wanted her body. Wanted her in the way a man wants a woman, and knows she cannot refuse him. It was a frightening thought. Frightening because of the truth it held.
Unsettled, Lenneth's dance faltered mid step. Her feet were nearly trod on by her partner, the man nearly not recovering in time to right her sudden stumble. By the look on his face, he showed he did not suspect the real reason for her sudden clumsiness. He'd actually try to continue the dance, but Lenneth? She had had enough.
Not even trying to make excuses, she began shouldering her way off the dance floor. The music didn't stop, the people continued to move around her. Sometimes right into her path, trying to encourage her to resume the dance. Lenneth sidestepped them all, even Randolf who was the most persistent of all. The look on the blonde man's face was almost comical when he realized the Valkyrie had evaded his best attempts, but Lenneth couldn't truly smile.
It was good to be off the dance floor, but there was no true relief found at the feasting tables. People pressed in around Lenneth, eager to offer their congratulations. To engage her attention, to try and entice the Valkyrie into sharing more than few words of conversation with them. But these people were strangers to her, and many she didn't even know their names. It made Lenneth tense, the woman not forgetting her training on the field. Her guard was going back up, Lenneth effortlessly avoiding those who would presume to touch her.
Just as she avoided the many mugs of drink that was offered to her. It was breaking with tradition, the special honey blend a mead that was meant to promote fruitfulness in those who drank of it. As the bride, there was a demand that Lenneth drink as much as she could tolerate of the honey mead. But one taste of the potent brew had let Lenneth know how easily the drink would destroy the remains of her defenses. To be so weakened by Odin's enchantment was one thing, but it would be doubly disastrous to end up drunk on top of it all.
It wasn't going unnoticed that Lenneth was refusing the drink. It disturbed some of the older guests, but the younger crowd was quick to make excuses. She had heard them say more than once, that Lenneth didn't know their ways. That she didn't know the importance behind the drink. It didn't appease some of the more haughty of complainers, but at least no one had dared press the issue to Lenneth herself.
Avoiding the path of well wishers and drink pushers, and staying out of reach of some of the more eager dancers, Lenneth walked past the banquet tables. The remains of the wedding feast lay on the black brocade of the table cloths. The feast had been grand, more food than Lenneth could ever recall seeing at one time. And that was saying something, considering the nightly feasts that were held for the einherjar in Valhalla.
Lezard had spared no expense where the wedding was concerned, and it extended to the food. Hunting had been good, whole racks of lamb broiled, wild pigs roasted, even venison had been made readily available. The people here did not hold back their appetites, all but demolishing the feast within a few hours time. And to wash it all down, wine was supplied, in addition to the special honey blend of mead.
Frankly Lenneth wouldn't be surprised if she was one of the only ones NOT to be drunk at this point and time. The reception had been going on for hours. Long enough for the sun to set on this day. And yet the party showed no sign of ending, people overly zealous in their merry making. Not only was the dance floor crowed, but the gaming tables were also full of people. Gambling away their fortunes, and perhaps too drunk to care.
There was even contests going on, some of the party spilling out into the castle courtyard. There had been contests of strength for the men, the hunters pitting themselves against one another in matches of archery, wrestling, and sword duels. For those less brawny in stature, there had been games of wit, and even a few conjuring contests for the magically inclined.
It wasn't just a tiring day, it was an overwhelming one. The people had tried to include Lenneth in everything they did. They were warm and welcoming, issues with mead aside. And yet she had always felt the outcast, unable to relax completely. Lenneth wondered if she would always feel that way, then quickly frowned. She knew her private long term goals did not allow for a future here in Flenceburg. As such she shouldn't worry quite so much about making friends with these people.
But some relationships could not be avoided. Such as the one with Lezard. Lenneth peered at the dancers, trying to find some sign of her husband. But if he was still there, Lezard was lost amidst the crowd. That suited Lenneth just fine. Tired as she was, Lenneth was not ready to retire for the night. Not to the bedroom she would now share with her husband.
Still searching the crowd for Lezard, Lenneth began making her way towards the rear entrance of the ball room. Nearly every step of the way was impeded, people trying to gain Lenneth's interest. She was saying things, making excuses in an attempt to hurry along her exit. Impatience flared within her, Lenneth wanting out of the room, and out of it now! And yet she wouldn't allow herself to be rude, making her tediously slow escape.
Once out in the hall, she breathed easier. Lenneth could still hear the laughter and conversation of the guests, it and the musicians' songs trickling into the hall. The hall itself was empty, no signs of the black and gold clad men who normally stood guard over the castle. Lenneth frowned at the realization that their posts had been abandoned. And all because she knew a stronghold was only as secure as the people who guarded it made it. Yes, some of the most powerful mages in Flenceburg were present for the party, but that didn't mean the guards could slack off.
She was uneasy with this lack of discipline, knowing that in Valhalla, the einherjar would never be allowed to abandon their posts. Lenneth almost turned around to reenter the ball room, if not for the opportunity the missing guards presented her with. This would be the first time she was truly alone. The first time she had no one, not even a servant, to report back on her movements. Something like a glimmer of a smile crossed her lips, Lenneth relishing the absolute freedom of the moment.
Her self appointed mission was always at the forefront of her mind. It was that mission that moved her now, Lenneth stalking away from the ball room on silent feet. She didn't know if she could find anything of use, but Lenneth HAD to try. Some might call it desperate, or think her foolish. Clinging to that last, desperate hope that she would discover what she needed and avoid taking this marriage any further. Lenneth tried to avoid any doubts, but also tried to keep from letting herself feel overly hopeful. All the while thinking that if she could just find some proof, Lenneth could take it and leave the castle before Lezard even knew she was gone.
She tried to ignore the pain in her heart at that thought. Tried to tell herself it was only Odin's enchantment that made Lenneth feel badly at the thought of walking out on Lezard. She wouldn't let any doubts or regret stop her though, Lenneth walking through the castle. Trying to decide where exactly to search first. The most promising place was the private wing of the castle. The one Lezard had claimed for his sole use. She had been there once before, Lenneth refusing to think about the almost kiss Lezard had nearly forced on her there.
She hadn't had mu
ch time to look around, that last time she had entered into his private chambers. But this time looked to be more promising. Holding onto her skirts to minimize the rustling sounds they made, Lenneth hurried as quick as she dared. She'd have to avoid a servant, some man who had stepped away from the party to smoke his pipe. Lenneth would stay hidden in the shadows, waiting for him to leave before she could take the staircase up to the next floor.
That large, hated crest of Hel's seemed to mock her, the cruel Goddess' blank visage waiting for Lenneth as she took to the landing. Except to scowl at it, Lenneth ignored it, walking past with her head held high. There wasn't anyone to see, the guards gone from this part of the castle too. The uneasy feeling continued, Lenneth almost thinking she was walking into a trap. She'd feel better to be armed, but there was no weapon readily available to her at this time.
Pressing on, ignoring her unease, Lenneth walked down the long hallway. Many of the doors were closed, hiding the contents of Lezard's storehouses from her. She'd check them all eventually, but like with her previous visit, Lenneth was sure Lezard would keep anything incriminating close to him. That meant either his private workshop or his bedroom, and the two rooms were located side by side.
She had been to his workshop before, Lenneth carefully studying without touching, the experiments that lay out in the open. They had been proof of dark magic, but hadn't been anything that could incriminate Hel or her people of working against the alliance with Asgard. It didn't mean that something couldn't be hidden there, something she had missed on her first look through. Lenneth would return to the workshop, but before she set foot there, she would try a room she had yet to see.
