COF 15

 Twisting the ring on her finger, Lenneth paced back and forth across the floor of her room. She couldn’t sleep, she had spent a better part of the last two hours tossing and turning in bed. Until finally with a cry of frustration, she raised up, slamming a fist into her pillow. She had gotten up shortly afterwards, drawn to the ring that sat innocently enough atop her vanity’s counter. “Wear me! Wear me!” It seemed to whisper seductively to her, a siren’s call she could not resist.

As she walked, she kept glancing at the door to her room, the one that led into the tower. Lezard had left it unlocked, a great sign of trust indeed, confident that his magic would keep her safe should she choose to wander. Of course he didn’t count on a restless Lenneth wanting to roam his home in the twilight hours of early morning. She looked at the door again, wondering why she felt the need to gear up her courage, take those last steps towards it. Had she really grown compliant in the seeming safety of her room? Was it the memory of the manticore’s attack that held her back? Or was it nervousness at the thought of encountering Lezard that kept her hand off the handle? Lenneth gave a fierce shake of her head, frowning to herself.

“He said his home was my home…” She said to herself, thinking her voice sounded too loud in the still quietness of the room. “Why should I be afraid to explore it…” Her eyes fell on the necklace, the protection spell untested and untried. All she had was his word that it worked…but it made her feel better all the same, when she placed it round her neck, feeling the warmth of the lapis lazuli pulsate against her skin.

It was as she had thought, the prison had changed, become wider and more expansive, but it was still that…a prison. And now her fears and doubts kept her from fleeing, seemingly keeping her trapped more effectively than a locked door ever had. She clenched her fists, not liking the helpless feelings her thoughts arose in her. It was time to do something about it, take back at least part of her independence.

A fierce look on her face, she grabbed at a thin peignoir, pulling the opaque covering over the flimsy white night gown she wore. It tied around the front, her fingers knotting it several times to bind it close over her breasts. It wouldn’t do much to combat any chills, but it went a long way in helping her feel more decently dressed. With one last twisting of the ring, she murmured a prayer to it. “Please let this work…”

She stepped forward on bare feet, sinking ankle deep into the plush carpeting of her room. The warm bristles tickled against her skin, nice and soft, cushioning her every step. Upon reaching the door she hesitated, hand over the knob. She didn’t know if she was prepared to deal with the emotions that would be stirred up should it not open under her touch. But not knowing was almost as bad. So with a lick of her lips, Lenneth grasped the knob, turning it slowly. Round it went, offering no resistance, the door swinging inwards at her command.

The hallway loomed before her, dark and foreboding, the torches hanging in their scones unlit. Never being one to fear the dark, she stepped out into the hall, shivering at the coldness of stone against the soles of her feet. “I wish I had some matches…” A dead torch flared to life, it’s magical fire illuminating a few square inches of the floor. “That works too…” She stepped closer to it, and a second torch further down also came on, a flickering beacon in the darkness. She walked towards it, holding up the hem of her nightgown with one hand. She was hardly surprised when a third torch came on, the first one dying out behind her. She wondered if the torches were trying to lead her somewhere, or was it just a way of saving power, only the nearest lighting up upon approach.

She decided to follow along the path they were illuminating, glancing about the tower to take in details. Seeing ancient runes painted on the walls, drawn up of red rust, and flickering with untold power. If she listened carefully enough, she thought she could hear the roar of some beast from the floors below. For how long the Valkyrie wandered, and to where, she did not know, the tower having little in the way of distinguishing markers. She walked and she looked, trying doors, finding not all would open under her touch, staying rigid and barred to her. She had mixed feelings about that, knowing that on one hand something horrendous probably awaited her on the other side of the door…but yet on the other she knew one of those doors could be the very one that led to her complete freedom. The outside world…

Soon the layout of the tower changed, the floor dipping low as it began it’s descent down to another level. Onwards she went, the torches lighting her way, until her toes touched thin carpet, and she stood in an archway, adjacent doors thrown carelessly open to reveal a new room to her. She touched marble columns, peering into the room. There appeared to be no torches here, just the crackling of a lit fire, and stray moonbeams casting it’s light across patches of the floor.

Lenneth stepped into the room, noting how the hall behind her fell pitch black. It seemed she had reached her destination, and curious she entered the room deeper, looking around the cozy round room. Tapestries were on the wall, she was unsurprised to find one depicting the ride of the Valkryies, though the artist had gotten it wrong, depicting nine female warriors when there was only three. She turned away from the painting, noticing two comfortable looking chairs that were facing the fireplace. A small stool stood in-between them, a half filled cup and an empty bottle situated on it’s top. It was then that she realized she wasn’t alone, and she looked to the doorway, wondering if she could make it out without the drinker noticing her presence.

Turning, she crept towards the archway, her feet making not a sound on the floor. But still he knew she was there, somehow sensed her nearness, his voice ringing out loud and slurred with drink. “You’re up early Lenneth…”

Shoulders drooping, she turned back, stifling a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Hmmm…” She heard him pick up his glass, ice clinking against each other. “There’s a lot of that going around.” He put the glass to his lips, swilling the last of it’s contents. “Would you care for a night cap…oooh no…I’ve drunk it all.” He laughed then, a rich male baritone of giddiness.

“Are you feeling all right Lezard?” She asked concerned, drawing nearer to his chair. She heard it creak, the necromancer rising to his feet, face shrouded in the darkness of the room. “Can it be…is my sweet angel concerned about me?”

“I’m no angel…” She came to a stop, not drawing nearer, not trusting this mood of his.

“But you think me a devil, brash and bold in my bringing of you here…” He let out a sound filled with pain, a deep moan that the room echoed, bouncing his sadness to her. “Ah Lenneth, have you come to grace me with your tender mercies, or damn me with your lips…?” She didn’t reply, just watching as he stood there, feeling the heat of his gaze boring into her, though she could not see his eyes. “Go away…” He suddenly said, turning his back to her. When she didn’t move he became angry, viciously throwing his glass into the fire, the flames burning a bit brighter for the sacrifice. “I said go away!”

“Lezard…what’s wrong with you?” demanded Lenneth, and now she did move, but in the wrong direction. She heard a sharp intake of breath from him, as her fingers touched his back, the soft touch muffled through his cape.

“I’m drunk Lenneth…but more than that…” He sighed, feeling her caress his back, hands slow and unsure as she petted him.

“More than that?” She urged, wanting to know the source of his pain.

“Oh…don’t do that…no…” Lezard breathed out, turning to catch hold of her wrists. “Not unless you mean it…not unless you want to give me more…”

“You’re hurting me.” She whispered, holding herself still against him. He didn’t seem to hear her, didn’t seem to care that she was starting to struggle, a look of panic on her face.

“Lenneth…I’m drunk…” His breath was hot against her face, reeking of his drink of choice. “But I’ve been alone far longer than I’ve been drunk.”

“You’re lonely?” She asked, even as he was placing a firm kiss on her lips, claiming her mouth for his own. He was warm and wet, the bitter taste of port transferring to her tongue as he kissed her, thoroughly and deeply. She was gasping around his mouth, when he released her, roughly pushing her away from him. She stumbled backwards, but did not fall.

“Leave me.” He ordered, his breath coming fast and heavy with desire.

“But…” Lenneth was confused, hand raising to her lips, still feeling him on her. “But why?” He suddenly lunged forward, moonlight illuminating his face. His eyes looked wild, and his hands hovered over her arms, though they did not touch her. She stood there unflinching, blue eyes wide with something, was it compassion or pity that she viewed him with? He didn’t know and he didn’t like it…he wanted to wipe that look from her eyes, even if his actions made her hate him.

“I won’t ask you again.” Lezard told her frustrated that she didn’t seem to sense the rising danger in the room. It pressed in all around them, thick and almost touchable…much like she was. He raised his hand, fingers on the side of her neck, feeling her pulse speeding under his touch.

“I won’t leave you…” She told him, voice steady and sure. “Not when you’re like this.”

“Brave words.” Lezard replied, a faint smile on his face. “But words alone have no power to slay the beast within me.” He thought to show it to her, let her feel the fire that consumed him, see the strength of that which he fought to hold back. But before he could move, she was reaching forward, shy and timid as a mouse, to cup his face with her hands. Her fingers stroked his skin, urging his face downwards, even as she rose up on tiptoe, their mouths coming together in a gentle kiss. He groaned in pleasure, feeling lost in the sensation, his hands coming up to grasp hold of her wrists, gently this time, neither pushing nor pulling at her.

If she sought to tame him with a kiss, she had made a grave error. It only served to fire him up, moved by the kindness she had just shown him. “Lenneth…” He whispered into her mouth, kissing her back fiercely. Now he pulled on her, plastering her against the front of his chest, even as he released one of wrists to cup the back of her head. His hand played along the hair there, stroking and caressing, enjoying the silk waterfall that cascaded down her back. He took her other hand, held it up to his face, sighing happily at the feel of her palm on his cheek.

Upon releasing his hold, he was pleased to see she didn’t move away, choosing to remain standing before him. He was staring into the cerulean of her eyes, when her fingers caressed across his lips, and he shuddered in delight. He was grabbing at her then, arm wrapping around her waist, lifting her up off the ground. Lenneth felt the room spin, Lezard crashing them against a table, pinning her hips on the wood.

He kissed her again, leaving Lenneth to feel as though she was the one drunk, not him. She grew intoxicated by his kisses, her mind fogging up, and growing cloudy, ignoring the little voice that whispered protests in her ear. Instead she focused on her growing desire, kissing him back, tongue meeting his boldly, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Lezard was touching her, whispering over and over again, to not be afraid. She was making noises, a gasp here, a whine there, never imagining his lips could feel so good on her neck, even as he bit and licked, worrying the skin there to bear his mark. She mimicked his movements, pushing down the collar of his cape, lips brushing against the nape of his neck. She felt him laughing against the crook of her neck, her actions clumsy and unsure, but just as passionate.

His hands were on her body, stroking her waist, teasingly waiting to move to less safer places of her anatomy. She didn’t have to wait long, Lezard far too impatient to touch that which had been denied to him for oh so long. It drew out a loud gasp from Lenneth’s lips, his hands curving round the soft flesh of her breasts, just enjoying the heavy feel of them against his palms. He rubbed back and forth, a slow rhythm that left her mounds growing hard where it had been flat just seconds ago.

He deprived himself of the feel of her just long enough to fumble with the ties of her robe, wrenching the peignoir off of her shoulders. One strap of her nightgown slipped down, revealing a dusky nipple to his eyes. With one finger, he stroked it, enjoying the tantalizing feel of the hard flesh against his skin. He brought up his thumb, capturing the nipple between two fingers, pinching and twisting, a grin on his face as he heard Lenneth cry out his name again and again. She fisted whole handfuls of his hair, fingers needing something to grasp as he touched her.

He kissed her then, a pressing of the lips against a part of her that had never been touched like this before. Lips fastening on the nipple, sucking hard and fast as though he was once again trying to draw poison out of her body. But there was none to be found, only a delightful sensation, that set her skin aflame, and made her cry out again. She tried to unfasten his cape, but the pleasure left her unable to think, fingers growing clumsy as they fumbled with one of the clasps.

Lenneth could feel his hands trailing down her body, not stopping at her stomach this time. A thrill went through her as she felt his hands on her hips, sliding down her legs, to find the hem of the nightgown. Even as he worked at her chest, he endeavored to lift up her gown, and reveal her legs to him. His fingers dug into her thigh, hard enough to bruise, the dull pain calling back some of her senses. But not enough, Lezard kissing back up to her mouth, leaving her lips swollen with his kisses.

He breathed down the side of her neck, planting tiny worshipful kisses on her skin, lips even caressing the lapis lazuli of her necklace. A jolt rang out, zapping her, though he seemed not to notice. Lenneth’s hand came up, grasping at the jewel, again feeling the sharp pain as it tried to warn her. Her brow furrowed, head coming clear, even as Lezard bent over her chest, trying to pull her nightgown lower.

“No!” She cried out, horrified, hands shoving him away from her. Lezard wasn’t expecting this, not thinking she would offer resistance so late in the game. He actually took a tumble, falling backwards onto the floor, his face shocked disbelief as he stared at her. “I…I…This was a mistake!” She announced, hopping off the table. He was already rising, reaching out to grab at her, as she ran by. Lezard’s hands merely snagged the peignoir, Lenneth slipping through his arms as though she was a mere ghost. He watched her run from the room, the woman not even pausing as she tried to pull her night gown up, covering her partial nudity.

Lenneth heard him let out an infuriated growl, “What the Hel?!” But she did not stop, rushing out into the darkness. Running fast, almost faster than the torches, laughter, mocking and feminine chased after her. “Who’s there?!” Lenneth whirled around, eyes desperately scanning the darkness. She knew that voice, had heard the laughter before in her dreams. “Show yourself!”

The laughter increased, growing louder, almost painful to her ears. She clapped her hands over them, but was unable to drown out the sound. High heels clicked on the floor, a curvaceous figure stepping into the light. “Hel…” Lenneth said, a whisper that was half fear, half angry snarl.

“Long time no see Lenneth.” Hel stepped forward, a vision clad in dark green. “You’re looking well under the circumstances.”

“What are you doing here, Hel?” demanded Lenneth with a bravado she did not feel.

“Now now…so quick to skip the pleasantries…” Hel shook her head. “It’s not often I get to talk Goddess to Goddess among my fellow Aesir.” Suddenly her eyes widened in false surprise, a smirk crossing her lips. “Oh that’s right…you’re not one of us anymore are you? You’re just another pathetic little mortal now.”

“Have you come here to gloat?!” She clenched her fist, body shaking slightly.

“No…that’s just an added bonus!” Her hand came up, a blazing red ball of fire hovering over her palm. Lenneth’s eyes widened, the glow of the energy orb casting a red sheen on her skin. She had only seconds to move, before Hel was flinging the orb forward, it tumbling past her to crash against the wall she had been standing by seconds earlier.

“Ooops!” Hel held a hand to her mouth, hiding her smile. “I missed.” Her eyes were predatory, even as two more orbs appeared in her hands. “You know what they say don’t you? If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!”

————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

Lezard was still where she had left him, clutching the peignoir to him, her scent lingering on the material. He brought it to his face, inhaling deeply, lips brushing against the flimsy wrap. But it offered him no comfort, and he cursed again, throwing the item onto the ground in disgust. He didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how she could kiss him, and touch him, and then just shut off the emotions like that. Lenneth had wanted him as much as he had wanted her, he hadn’t imagined it. She had stroked and caressed him, placed tender kisses on his neck. She hadn’t laid there like a woman being forced, but was passionate, participating.

He imagined her again, writhing and willing under his hands, murmuring words of encouragement. He could still see her skin, pale in the moonlight, her generous curves yielding under his hands. Lezard swore again, feeling his pants grow tight as he envisioned her undressed state. He was running hands through his hair, trying to decide if he should go after her, or wait until they were both calmed down when he heard the scream.

It was faint, so low he almost thought he imagined it. But it sounded again, desperate in it’s fear. “Lenneth!” He cried, feet propelling him towards the archway. He rushed out blindly into the darkness, a command on his lips, “Illumi–nata!” The torches flared to life, lighting up all at once, showing this patch of hall empty. From further away he heard her scream, an explosion punctuating her cries.

Lezard broke into a run, praying to any God who would listen to let him be on time. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what was attacking Lenneth, what those noises were. He could smell power in the air, burnt ozone and brimstone, assaulted his nostrils. His feet pounded against the floor, going up the steep incline, as the hall curved and turned upwards. He didn’t have to go much farther when he came across Lenneth and her mysterious attacker.

He didn’t even stop to think, flinging out his hand towards the other woman. “Frigid Damsel!” He summoned up an icy beauty, a woman made of snow whose hands enlarged before his eyes, showing sharp claws for fingernails. She flew towards the orange haired woman, slashing downwards to rake icy trails of coldness down her back. The woman let out an infuriated scream, spinning to toss power at the snow nymph. She was weaving in and out, easily dodging the fire, slashing open the green of her dress.

Lezard let out a sharp intake of breath, recognizing her now. HEL! He thought, eyes drifting towards Lenneth. The Valkyrie was crouched on the floor, rubble strewn all about her. Her gown was dirty from the dust stirred up, but she herself seemed unharmed. The jewel at her throat glowed, and he could faintly make out a shimmer in the air around her. It seemed the spell had thrown up an invisible shield, protecting her from the worst of Hel’s attack.

He didn’t have time to be pleased with his spell, only feeling relief that it had been strong enough to withstand an attack from the Queen of Nifleheim. “Ah…Our dashing hero has arrived!” Hel thrust her hands forward, grabbing the frigid damsel round the neck. With a flex of her hands, she was snapping the snow maiden’s neck, ending the summoning prematurely. Lezard let out a cry, “…Nrgh…” He stumbled backwards, a hand to his chest.

“You know…that was really quite the hot scene between you two…” More fireballs appeared in her hand, blazing white hot. “It’s a shame it got cut off short.” A pout was on her lips. “And after I worked so hard to let you two have a taste of mortal passion before killing you!”

“That was you?!” Lezard and Lenneth both cried out simultaneously. Lezard dared take his eyes off of Nifleheim’s ruler, to glance at Lenneth’s face. The woman wore an expression that was relieved, even as her eyes met his, dropping guiltily away.

“Of course I couldn’t have worked those feelings out of nowhere.” Hel added as an after thought. “There has to be some amount of attraction, no matter how minuscule for a lust spell to work.”

“You’re lying!” Lenneth hissed, rising to her feet, eyes angry.

“Am I?” Hel stalked towards Lenneth, a vicious smile on her face. “Don’t you know I never tell a lie when the truth can cut just as deeply?” She let out a mocking laugh. “Look at you standing there…disheveled in your night dress, skin flushed, lips still swollen from his kisses.” She reached out with a hand, coming up against an invisible wall, hovering an inch away from the girl’s body. She lowered her voice to a whisper only Lenneth could hear. “I know what a frigid little thing you are…you’d never allow him to touch you like that, even if that was what you had secretly grown to desire.”

“Stop it!”

“You liked what he did to you, liked when he touched you…when he had his mouth on you…” continued Hel mercilessly. “My spell could only arise certain feelings in you, not cause your reactions.”

With an infuriated cry, Lenneth lunged forward, taking a swing at the Goddess. Her eyes were wide with shock, as Lenneth’s fist connected with her face, smashing into her cheek. “My…my face!” She cried out, horrified, hand going up to cup the throbbing skin. With a shriek of fury, she flung out her arms, causing Lenneth to go flying back into the wall, the Valkyrie’s body bouncing off the stones onto the floor. “You’ll pay for that!” She hissed, advancing towards the woman.

“I think not! Poison Blow!!” shouted Lezard, purple gas shooting out of his palm to explode around the Goddess. She coughed, shielding her eyes from the acidic poison, feeling someone run past her. She lashed out with clawed fingers, hoping to snag whoever it was. Her hands easily passed through the air, coming up empty. “Dissipate!” She ordered, and the spell around her thinned out, purple smoke clinging to her clothing.

Lezard reached Lenneth’s side, bending down to assist her to her feet. She had a cut on her cheek, blood dripping onto the white of her night gown, further ruining it’s pristine state. “We have to get out of here.” Lenneth said, even as his arm slid around her waist, holding her up on her feet.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere except straight to my domain!” Hel threw her hands up in the air, fingers splayed wide. The two mortals had to shield their eyes from the dazzling light that emerged from her palms. Hel began chanting, her hands shaping and molding the bare air, the light coming off her finger, turning into something that was solid–barely. It was a translucent film, a sticky web that clung to her fingers, even as she pressed her hands together.

“Quick Lezard! We need a fire spell!” Lenneth said urgently, tugging on Lezard’s cloak.

Hel’s hands were pulling apart, a long net between them. “Ether Net!” She was about to toss it onto the pair, when Lezard’s voice rang out. “Fire Storm!” Three fireballs, stretching out long and pointed, went barreling towards the Goddess’ hands, singeing them dark and dirty. The net melted, burning into her skin, trailing down her arms like candle wax. Hel let out a stream of curses, spinning around in the small hallway, banging her roasted hands against the stone wall, trying to put out the smoke.

“Is there anything that can permanently hurt her?” demanded Lezard, watching as the skin healed, turning pink and clean once more.

“Not here on the mortal plane.” Lenneth answered with a shake of her head.

“Perfect, just perfect…” He muttered, even as Hel whirled around to face them, her normally beautiful face twisted into an angry snarl. “Oh you are going to pay for that!” Her voice was rich with promise, dripping venom and bile. “I think death is too good for the likes of you. I’m curious to see how a mortal could stand up to the torturers of Nifleheim!” A tittering of laughter followed this announcement.

“Lezard!” Lenneth’s voice sounded terrified, her hand tightening on his arm in a death grip. He absentmindedly patted her hand, trying to think up a spell to use, one that would buy them enough time. He placed his hands together, concentrating. “If ye shall accept the benedictions of beauty, then yea!” A chill wind began blowing through the tower, tugging at everyone’s clothing. Frost began forming on the ceiling, zig zagging it’s way towards where Hel stood.

“Oh no you don’t!” Hel crossed her arms over her chest, twin fireballs appearing, hovering around her body protectively. “I invoke the rites of fiery Muspelheim and give my soul up to the inferno’s embrace!”

“Let these chains of aster surround thee!” continued Lezard, sweat pouring down his brow from the heat of Hel’s flames. “Absolute Zero!”

“Ifrit Caress!” cried Hel in retaliation. The two spells zoomed across the floor to crash into each other, the red and yellow of flame crashing into the blue and white of ice, sending out showers of sparks in every which way. Daggers of ice pierced the ground before Hel’s feet, the Goddess stepping back cautiously from the spell remnants. “I’m impressed.” She said.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” acknowledge Lezard grimly.

“Hmph.” She laughed then. “But let’s see how you are against my full power.” Once again Lezard and Hel began chanting simultaneously, the necromancer’s voice reciting in a language foreign but strangely familiar to Lenneth’s ears. She saw blue light start circling towards them, coming closer and closer. Lezard was already turning towards her, grabbing her about the waist, pulling her against him. “Lezard!” She gasped, seeing Hel aim a fireball at Lezard’s back.

“It’s okay!” He whispered confidently in her ear, seemingly uncaring of the danger behind him. Bells were ringing in Lenneth’s ears, the light flaring in a tight knit circle around them, casting them in blue shadows. Even as she saw the fireball fly from Hel’s grip, she felt her stomach twist, a combination of horror and something else. She felt the ground begin to fade away from under her feet, leaving her teetering up in pure air, floating in Lezard’s embrace. Just as the fireball hit him, the surroundings changed around them, Hel’s astonished face the last thing she saw before they were lost to the darkness.