by GR Griffin
"You should have taken me then." Silmeria said, her bold words taking Brahms by surprise. "Because vampire? That was your only chance to have me!"
The conviction in her eyes disturbed him, Brahms sliding off the bed. Shaken, he stared at her, trying to hide his unease. "We shall see whether or not you are right about that."
Silmeria said nothing in response, just continued to stare at him in that unnerving way. It was a difficult look to face, Silmeria seeming unshakable in her belief. "I will see you tomorrow." He told her, backing towards the room's door. Silmeria didn't even inquire as to why he was leaving her when there was still some time before the sun rose. But he couldn't stand to be there any longer, to endure her looks and her silence. He was all but fleeing the room, but outside it there was no relief.
The sole comfort Brahms took was the fact that there was no one out in the hall to bear witness to how shaken he was. Many of his vampires had gone off the island, teleporting to nearby cities to seek out nourishment. This was more important than ever, what with the threat of the Valkyrie hunting party looming near. It was invasion their island home was facing, and his people needed to be at their full strength for the battle they would take part in.
At this current time, there was several hundred vampires who were on leave from the war taking place in Asgard. That was in addition to the various undead monsters that roamed the island. Gideon hadn't been able to give Brahms any concrete numbering on just how large a party the invaders made up, but both vampires hoped they were strong enough in numbers to repel the Valkyrie.
The vampires who hadn't needed to leave the island to feed were busy elsewhere. They were fortifying defenses, setting traps, and preparing attacks. The Valkyrie and their einherjar would not find it easy to set even one foot on the island. Already the few mages they possessed, were stirring spells. They were targeting the weather, summoning up a storm to disrupt the ocean that surrounded the island. The boats the Valkyrie rode on would have a difficult time getting close enough to land. But it was a delaying tactic only. Eventually they would arrive, and then the fighting would begin in earnest.
Brahms was determined not to lose. Neither his own life, or that of Silmeria's. He'd do whatever it took to win, to keep Silmeria in his possession. Even if he had to spill Valkyrie blood to do it.
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Chapter 22 : Twenty Two
There had been a few noteworthy absences from dinner that evening. Neither Lenneth nor Mystina had deigned to put in an appearance in the dining room, their seats noticeably empty amidst the group that crowded in at the master's table. No one thought much to speculate on the reasons why neither woman had shown for dinner, though there had been the worry that the two were off somewhere fighting.
Lezard had been quick to put an end to such a worry, sending off several of his guardsmen to track down the women. The news reported back to him revealed Lenneth was safely secure in her rooms, and Mystina was off visiting someone in the city. The sorceress wasn't expected to return before morning, and for that reason alone did Lezard relax.
But only slightly. It was difficult for him to be of good cheer, the mage brooding. Not even the raucous atmosphere that had preceded the dinner, could distract him completely. Not when thoughts of Lenneth filled his mind, the moment of their near kiss replaying in his memories again and again. He remembered the look in her eyes, the tortured panic she had worn the moment that followed Lenneth shoving Lezard away from her. He regretted causing her such distress, might even regret attempting to kiss her in the first place.
But not even that regret could stop him from wanting more from Lenneth. From yearning for a closeness, a bond to develop between them. Lezard understood they might never get that closeness if he didn't push her forward. But there in lie the difficulty, Lezard knowing he shouldn't push too fast, or too hard. Not without the risk of his actions alienating Lenneth completely. But it wasn't easy to hold back, to content himself with little touches. He was greedy for more, even as he savored every little touch he could steal.
Lenneth wasn't used to such affection. Even the little, innocent touches he forced on her made Lenneth uneasy. But there was a purpose there, Lezard guiding her to learn his touch. To tolerate and get used to it. All in the hopes that one day she would welcome it and him. Lezard had thought he was making progress in that regard. What a fool he had been! A touch of her hair was nothing compared to the pressing of their lips together. No wonder she had panicked. But with that panic, she had hurt him, his own heart flinching in pain.
And with that pain came a depression, Lezard wondering just how much longer he would have to wait for Lenneth to be open to his advances. As it was now, it did not bode well for their wedding night. She was like a skittish colt, and would never tolerate his desires. She had said as much, speaking on how close she was to falling in love with him. A love forced on her by Odin, the enchantment weakening her, draining the fight out of Lenneth. But even as she acknowledged the struggle, she had been defiant, speaking on how she would not willingly become a toy for Lezard to use.
He wanted more for her, for them both. He wanted love! Yet it was a love he couldn't publicly pursue, Lezard aware of the enemies around him. The enemies that would use his love against him, hurt Lenneth in attempts to revenge themselves or gain advantages over him. Lezard did not dare risk revealing that love even to Lenneth, fearing for her safety. Fearing the fact that she was mortal now.
How ironic was it, that to gain her he had had to render Lenneth vulnerable to harm?! It was thoughts like these that tortured him this evening. He sat at the head of the master's table, nursing one of the many drinks he had had this evening. The alcohol wasn't numbing him as much as Lezard would have liked. His thoughts continued to trouble him, Lezard feeling depressed. For himself, for Lenneth, for the weaknesses he had given her, and the fact he could never be open about just how much she mattered to him.
He held in his sighs, thinking he would never get to speak the words that so mattered to Lenneth. She would never get to hear him confirm his love. It was cruel, but through denying her the proof of his heart felt feelings, he would be keeping her safe. And that was a true sacrifice born of love. Lezard wasn't even startled at this point to be thinking so surely that he loved Lenneth. The amount of drink he had had, lowered his own defenses. Allowed him to realize what he had been struggling to deny. He loved her, had loved her perhaps from that first sighting on Idavoll's plains.
It was that unrecognized love that had made him take foolish risks. But Lezard did not want to think of Hel and Odin, and the many ways their displeasure could fall onto him. He just wanted to sit here and drink, drink himself to oblivion so that he could escape the pain of his heart. Love when it was unrequited, unable to be expressed fully was a brutal torture. It made Lezard feel sick, worse than any poison or alcohol could make him.
It also didn't help that the few who remained in the dining room with him, were in far better moods. They didn't seem to sense any of their Lord's displeasure, the men here full of cheerful, near raucous laughter. It was always like this when Randolf dominated the conversations. The blond man was full of stories, his brown eyes twinkling with mirth as he regaled the group with his travels and the women he had met.
Some of Randolf's accounts bordered on the obscene. No women remained, all having had the good sense to depart the instant the heavy drinking had started. Now there only remained the men, and the group was small. In addition to Randolf and Lezard, there was five other nobles present. All men Lezard trusted, all men he might even call friend.
But he wasn't sure how far their loyalties would extend. Would they be willing to side with him against Hel? He did not think so. More likely they would think Lezard a fool, think him stupid for risking so much for a woman, for a chance at being loved. Half the time Lezard thought that of himself too. It left him wondering when had love begun to matter to him, especially after years of going without it.
Love should have been som
ething he could have gone without. Lezard would have been content, or at least as much as he could be, with a life free of love. But that had all changed with the first sighting of Lenneth. He had changed. Slowly but surely, his heart becoming susceptible to the Valkyrie's charms. It was charms he was sure other men had fallen for as well, the Valkyries such that few men could resist their appeal.
Even now, Randolf's words worked to prove him right, the blonde man dazzling his audience with descriptions of the Valkyries he had seen. Randolf seemed to be of the opinion that each Valkyrie was more beautiful than the last, the man grinning as he recalled the lovely faces he had seen. His audience of five was enrapt, listening as Randolf spun his tales.
"But my favorite of the Valkyries I had the chance to see, was a lass of ivory skin. She had flame colored hair, thick ringlets of it that could not be contained by her helm. Her eyes were just as fiery, a piercing green that seemed to stare into the souls of everyone she met." Randolf seemed to shiver, as though perversely delighting in the Valkyrie's stern gaze.
"Did you get a chance to talk to any of the Valkyries?" It was Garrant, a near balding noble who asked that question. Another man would laugh, his words stirring a similar reaction from nearly all the men present.
"Come now Garrant, you know better than that!" Chided Louville. "If our Randolf had had the opportunity to do more than looked at the women, he would have surely tried to bed one of them." Louville grinned, pandering to the laughter. "And gotten his balls cut off for his efforts!"
"Hey now!" protested Randolf. "I might have had a chance. The Valkyrie are still women." He turned his gaze towards Lezard, searching for support. "They still have needs. Right Lezard?"
Lezard took advantage of his drink to avoid answering immediately. The other men present had also turned to look at him, their faces showing an eagerness for answers. They were so curious about the women who were Odin's elite soldiers, eager for any bit of knowledge they could glean. They surely thought Lezard had an inside track on the Valkyries, and all due to his limited interactions with his bride to be.
"Yes, Lezard. Do tell us about the Valkyries' needs!" Louville invited. "Are they really just women like Randolf insists?"
"They are first and foremost Goddesses." Lezard stressed. He had finished his drink, but already someone moved to refill his cup. He did not stop them, privately welcoming the oblivion drink could offer him. "Minor deities in their own right."
"I would not mind worshipping at their altar, I can tell you that much!" laughed another man. He was wearing a lewd grin, nudging Sameer who sat to the right of him. "Especially if they are all as beautiful as Randolf says."
"Oh do you doubt me? The blonde man asked. "Especially after you have seen our Lord's betrothed?" Lezard tried not to let jealousy stir, watching as the men all paused, as though conjuring an image of Lenneth in their heads. It was absurd to feel so possessive of her, to not want other men to even think of his bride to be. And yet he felt it all the same, Lezard wanting to zap them with lightning, tear the images of Lenneth from their minds.
"Ah. She is lovely."
"Lovely? You blasphemy, Garrant, if you think the Valkyrie is anything less than beautiful." Louville exclaimed. He grinned at Lezard, sensing none of the mood his Lord was in. "You are a lucky, lucky man." He lifted his goblet in mock salute, before drinking down the contents of it.
"Or at least you will be once you get the Valkyrie to warm up to you!" added another, his words earning wild laughter from the others.
"It should not be so difficult." Insisted Randolf. "A few choice words here and there, some gifts, and she will welcome Lezard's attentions."
"Is that all it takes?" wondered Garrant. He seemed disappointed. "A bit of flattery and some baubles to get the Valkyries open to a man's desires?"
"If that were true..." Lezard couldn't keep the sour tone out of his voice. "Randolf would have come back with several of the Goddesses on his arms." More laughter from the men, this time at the expense of Randolf. The blonde man did not scowl, taking it all in good humor.
"I would be more than willing to test out the proper way to pursue a Goddess." He said. "Heaven knows it would be worth it!"
"Only if you succeed" laughed Louville. He was refilling his cup with mead. "I think the Valkyries would not be content to be mere notches on your bed board."
"Indeed they wouldn't." Lezard said, thinking of Lenneth's words, of how she refused to be anything less than loved. She feared being used, and it was fear that left her fighting all the stronger against Odin's enchantment. "The Valkyrie are not the type of women to be used, not content to be a man's latest conquest in the bedroom." He thought of the Goddesses he had seen in Asgard, the Valkyries fighting on the plains of Idavoll. "No....those women are tough, strong. Driven by the sword, they exist only to fight Odin's wars."
"Ah yes, your Lenneth told us similar." Sameer recalled.
"Oh?"
"Yes, she spoke briefly about how she had enjoyed being a Valkyrie. The purpose her battles gave her." Sameer explained. "I believe she misses it."
"You are right about that." Lezard tried to hide how glum that agreement made him feel. "I think Lenneth would have been content to spend out the rest of her immortality on the battle field...."
"She had to hang up her sword eventually." Louville said in a dismissive tone. "Sooner or later all Valkyrie are retired."
"Not all!" Lezard reminded them.
"Ah yes...some are so unfortunate as to be slain in battle." Louville allowed a smile to cross his face. "I think your Lenneth will realize in time, that is a fate much worse than being tied to a man."
"Perhaps." Damn it, but his uncertainty showed, Lezard quickly taking another drink to try and hide that betraying doubt.
"Oh Lezard, is the fight for her heart getting you down?" Randolf chose to sit down next to the mage, going so far as to pat him heartily on the back. "Don't worry! Randolf is here! I will help you melt away all her resistance!" He was grinning broadly, even as Lezard made a dry retort.
"Somehow I doubt Lenneth will be susceptible to the same tricks that work on a tavern wench."
But Randolf was insistent in his belief that the Goddesses were the same as mortal women. "When you strip away their armor, they are all the same!"
Lezard sighed, the sound exasperated. "That's what I am trying to get you to understand. They are not. How can I hope to seduce someone who would most likely rather take a blade to my heart, then offer me so much as a smile?"
"Come now!" protested Randolf. "It can't really be all that bad."
"We are her enemies." Lezard stressed. "Or at least we were, as far as she is concerned."
"Oh that." Randolf frowned. "Can't say Queen Hel's planned betrayal will help to endear you any to Lady Lenneth."
"Don't you think I know that?!" Lezard snapped, agitated. He didn't appreciate the reminder of what Hel planned to do, any more than he wanted to think of the double cross he was involved in with Odin. It just made him testy, and the drinks he had had, also soured his mood further.
A quiet followed Lezard's moment of agitation. And then Sameer was talking, hesitantly. "Might you not keep her from discovering what Hel is doing?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Garrant. "She is cut off from the other Valkryies, far from the heavens. She need never know what has happened outside of these walls."
"As if I could hide it from her!" glowered Lezard.
"Yes, someone would be bound to tell her." Agreed Louville. He seemed to have failed to realize Lezard's complaint was born out of his reluctance to deceive Lenneth. It had nothing to do with the fear that someone would betray any secrets he tried to keep.
"Most likely Mystina." added Sameer. "She would love another chance to cause you trouble. You and Lady Lenneth both!"
"Hmph, Mysitina." scoffed Randolf. "She just needs a man to take a firm hand with her."
"Oh, are you volunteering for the position?" Louville asked, eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Not I!" protested Randolf, visibly alarmed. "The sorceress is beautiful, but her tongue is too sharp even for me. That one is nothing but trouble." He added as the men began laughing.
"That she is." Came the agreement.
"So what will you do?" Garrant asked, looking at Lezard. He shrugged, swallowing down more of the strong tasting alcohol.
"Woo her." Advised Sameer. "Make her fall in love with you."
"As if it's that easy." Muttered Lezard under his breath. The men here did not know about the enchantment Lenneth was under. No one in Flenceburg knew, the secret kept between Lezard and Lenneth. It was a secret that would have exposed Lenneth's vulnerabilities, and would have only served to embarrass her further. And Lezard too, Mystina would have had quite the laugh to know the Valkyrie was fighting such a strong love spell.
"You have no choice." Sameer insisted. "If you don't get her to fall in love with you before our Queen makes her move...." All the men seemed to shudder as one. Even Lezard could not remain unaffected, the mage wondering if Lenneth would try to kill him in retaliation.
"You have some time, right?" An uncertain Randolf asked. "Our Queen is not yet ready to march on Odin's holdings."
"Queen Hel will not want to wait forever." Warned Garrant. "She is eager to take her place in the heavens as it's Queen."
"She is no fool though." Sameer said gravely. "She will wait."
Lezard had his doubts about that, remembering how impatient Hel had been in his workshop. The Goddess had seemed put out by the thought of waiting, though in the end he had gained her agreement. But he knew she would not wait forever, especially if Lezard could not produce enough viable information from Odin. And the God had yet to contact Lezard with the promised information.
He swallowed down more of his drink, feeling depression settle in more strongly. Nothing was going right. Nothing would EVER be right, once Hel began to actively make moves against Odin. The fake alliance would crumble, and Lenneth would surely hate Lezard for the role she perceived he had played in the betrayal of her King. He wouldn't be able to tell her the truth. Even as he worked to protect Asgard from Hel's grasping hands, Lenneth would never know of his valiant efforts. She would hate him, he was sure.