OSVP 23

Sound intruded in on his consciousness. A persistent chirp of it, a bird somewhere close to him singing a song. What might ordinarily be pleasant, now succeeded at being nothing more than annoying. Lezard grumbled under his breath, tempted to take his pillow and throw it in the direction of the bird. But that would require more movement than he currently felt capable of doing.

His body felt heavy, weighted down. His head felt even worse, mind sluggish, with a dull throb of pain accompanying every thought he attempted to have. All signs pointed to it, Lezard realizing he was hung over. What’s worse, the symptoms seemed exaggerated with that realization. The throbbing his head was doing increased in severity and frequency, his mouth feeling far too dry.

He felt warm too, as though he was wearing too much clothing. He began pulling at his shirt, only to discover it was half unbuttoned already. He shifted, warily cracking open his eyes. Blinding sunlight immediately hit him, Lezard letting out a hiss of pain and throwing his arm over his face. It blocked out the sun, but the brief glimpse of that too blinding light had awakened him completely, all his aches and pains flaring up at once. Good lord, what had he been drinking to feel this horrible?!

Dully, Lezard remembering Randolf filling his cup with some kind of strong smelling drink. Lezard growled slowly, making a vow. That would be the last time he ever drank any of Randolf’s special brew. Potent in taste and smell, it was probably strong enough to kill someone fool enough to drink too much of it. Or at the very least, kill off some much needed brain cells.

It might have done just that to Lezard, the mage realizing he couldn’t really remember much of what happened after he had left the dining room. He certainly didn’t recall how he ended up in bed, or why for that matter he was still wearing his boots. He felt sick and unclean, clothes wrinkled and hair disheveled. But he couldn’t imagine getting up to take a bath. It simply felt like too much effort to even move. And yet Lezard knew he had responsibilities, things he had to attend to today. There was that briefing based on the discoveries Randolf had made on his travels, along with last minute details of his impending nuptials. Truthfully, those type of details were typically handled by the bride, but Lezard couldn’t imagine Lenneth involving herself in that sort of manner.

He frowned at that thought, and then his eyes snapped open wide. Lenneth! He went to sit up, and immediately cringed away from the sun light. His eyes had squinted shut, Lezard holding up his arm as if that would ward off the sun rays. His head screamed with pain from his sudden movements, Lezard wanting nothing more than to lay back down. But he had remembered something, an important piece of information that had him worried anew. It involved Lenneth, Lezard recalling how he had sought her out.

He couldn’t remember clearly all that happened, Lezard frowning as he lowered his arm. He cautiously opened his eyes, the sun’s light still hurting him. Someone had left open the window’s curtains, allowing the sun to flood the room with light. He might have been annoyed by that, but Lezard was too busy noticing the room wasn’t his. And with that notice, dread filled him, Lezard realizing this was the bedroom that had been given to Lenneth.

“Oh no…” He breathed, turning his head quickly to see if she was present. That movement hurt him, but he ignored it. The room was empty, the songbird continuing to sing by the window. Lezard couldn’t bear to look towards it, not even to fathom just how long he had been sleeping. But he could hear people in the courtyard, talking and laughing. It made him think enough time had have to gone by for the castle to be up and that active.

But he didn’t really care what the others were up to. He just wanted to know where Lenneth was. He couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, how he had ended up in her bed. But Lezard had the feeling he should be ashamed, a guilty need to apologize filling him. He struggled to the edge of the bed, taking a shaky step forward. And then another, until Lezard was by the table. There was a pitcher of fresh water sitting there. He’d drink it down, trying to quench his thirst and rid himself of the dry mouth feeling.

By the time he finished with the water, Lezard was standing straighter. He was still squinting in response to the light, and his head still had that persistent pain. But at least he didn’t feel nauseous, Lezard able to move without falling over.

Over the chair, lay the silk nightgown Lenneth had been wearing. He gravitated towards it, reaching for the gown. It no longer held the warmth from Lenneth’s skin. That
told him much time had passed since she had worn this garment. Lezard could not resist bringing it up towards his face, rubbing his cheek over the soft, smooth fabric. He could smell Lenneth’s scent, the faintest perfume of lilies bringing up a sensory memory to him.

It came clearly in his head, Lenneth beneath him. Her body had been soft, pliant. Covered in the soft, flimsy silk of the nightgown. She had been trembling, the exposed flesh of her arms covered in goose bumps. He had been determined to warm her up, Lezard bending over her, his hands in her hair. Lifting it away from her neck so that he could breathe in the scent of her.

The memory was over with as fast as it had started. Lezard was left standing there, his nose pressed into the nightgown’s silk. His hands began to tremble, Lezard now remembering how pretty Lenneth had looked in the night gown. How soft and inviting it had made her body appear. That next moment of memory was a strong flashback, Lezard remembering how her voice had drawn his attention away from staring at her body. He inwardly flinched, remembering now he had stood there, staring as he talked to her. She had been dressed for bed, he should have never stayed. It wasn’t proper to call on a lady so late at night, especially when it was obvious she had been about to sleep.

And yet all sense of proprietary had fled him, Lezard lingering, talking foolishly to her. What had he been trying to tell Lenneth? He could not remember, only recalling the flustered and frustrated emotions stirred by their exchange. It told him that the conversation had not been going as well as it could have been, Lezard coming away disappointed. Lenneth too, the woman’s expression not as guarded as she might have liked.

He was still holding the night gown, though Lezard had lowered it from his face. He was still remembering how she had looked wearing it, a soft shudder going through him. Gods but she was beautiful. To the point it was painful to look at her and know Lenneth was not yet his. That thought had been in his mind last night as well, Lezard realizing he had been determined to do something about it.

It worried him, Lezard positive he had done something foolish. Something worse than just awkward talking and staring that bordered on rude. The memory he did have, of Lenneth beneath him didn’t bode well, Lezard letting the nightgown slide out of his unresisting hands. It fluttered to the floor with the softest whisper of sound, but Lezard paid it no mind. Instead he turned to look at the bed, positive that was where he had lain with Lenneth.

But he wasn’t as thrilled as he could have been, Lezard stepping towards the bed. Just what had happened last night? How far had they gone? Had he done more than kiss and smell her? And why had Lenneth been so docile beneath him? Had a part of her welcome his affection? He didn’t think it was that simple, Lezard moaning and feeling dread develop within him. He had surely done something awful last night, something Lenneth might not be able to forgive.

He wasn’t a man prone to much panic, but now he fought with that feeling. Struggled to control it, to keep it from overwhelming him. Somehow Lezard found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He moaned anew, Lezard muttering out loud. “What have I done?!” But he had no answers, and no concrete memory to rely on. Just small pieces that made him worry all the more.

For how long Lezard sat on the bed, moaning into his hands, he could not say. But the songbird had quieted down. And Lenneth had yet to return. He didn’t think her absence boded well for him. Surely she must be angry, or at the very least disappointed with him. Lezard didn’t know for sure what had happened, but felt Lenneth had a right to any negative emotions she might be harboring towards him now.

He didn’t feel particularly happy with his own behavior either. Lezard was full of self loathing, though it was born based on what he imagined had happened. His mind was very creative in coming up with new scenarios for him to cringe over, leaving Lezard with the suspicion the truth couldn’t be anywhere as bad as what he thought had happened. Lezard moaned again, mortified and wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. Or better yet, wishing he could go back in time, and slap the drink out of his hand before he could consume it.

But neither option was within his power. He could only go forward, and try and make amends. Lezard didn’t even wonder if there wasn’t anything to be sorry about. And all because of the overwhelming feeling of wrongness that filled him, sparking brighter with those half bits of memory he had recalled. Lezard was sure he had made a fool of himself, damaging his relationship with Lenneth in the process.

Amidst his moaning, Lezard became aware that the noise from the courtyard continued. In fact it was louder, more boisterous and full of cheerful taunts. He didn’t know what was going on, but it sounded like half the castle was gathered in the inner courtyard. The laughter drew him from the bed, Lezard walking an unsteady path to the window. No one was looking up to see him staring out, and the loud cheering drowned out his in drawn hiss.

There was indeed a lot of people crowded into the courtyard. From the drab colors of the serving class, to the bright, expensively dressed nobles, and even the black and gold uniforms of the castle guards, there was a representation of nearly every class outside. And centered in that crowd was several of the guardsmen, the men in the midst of their sword drills. Lezard didn’t glance up to judge the sun’s position in the sky, but had a strong feeling this was too late in the day for serious training to take place. Even with the unusual timing, the people who lived inside the castle shouldn’t have cared all that much about the mock sword fights going on.

Except…there was someone new standing amidst the dozen guards. Someone who was most decidedly not a new recruit. Standing with her platinum hair braided behind her back, Lenneth was a vision in a pale purple dress that was trimmed with silver. The silver accents brought out that same color in Lenneth’s hair, most traces of the blue gone now. Lezard couldn’t see her face, had no idea if her eyes sparked with challenge or amusement. But she let out a laugh, the first real sound of amusement he had ever heard her make.

A sword was in Lenneth’s hand, the woman expertly twirling it in complex patterns. The sharp blade never came close to cutting her, and yet Lezard gripped the window’s sill harder in response. Her free hand held not a shield, but instead the skirts of her dress, hauling them upright so they would not trip her during her fight. The crowd was cheering, excited like this was some great entertainment, to watch the former Goddess do battle with the guardsmen.

At the moment, she stood surrounded by a ring of them. Most were content just to admire her, but a few had swords in their hands. They were eager to test their merits against the one time Valkyrie. An eagerness she matched, deftly wielding her sword even in that restrictive gown of hers. Lezard’s heart leapt into his throat, watching as one man charged her. His sword would narrowly miss her braid, Lenneth having pivoted in place to smack the flat of her blade against his ass. That playful hit earned laughter from the crowd, the guardsman turning red faced in embarrassed anger.

Turning, he would charge her again, feinting to Lenneth’s right at the last moment. Lenneth would bring her sword to clash against his, the metal clanging loudly. Lezard winced as the man began pressing into Lenneth’s blade with his own, the mage sure the guard would overwhelm the woman with pure physical strength. Lenneth simply hauled her skirts higher, and kicked out with her leg, sweeping out the man’s feet from under him.

With a thud, he hit the cobblestones. Lenneth’s sword was at his throat before he could even think to get up. His mouth was open, a round o of shock there that quickly gave way to grudging admiration.

“Whose next?” Lenneth demanded, after the down guardsman had given the signal that he yielded to her. Lezard did not wait to see just who would challenge the Valkyrie next, the mage turning away from the window. He’d hurry out the room, and through the corridors. It would be on the main floor that an elderly woman would gasp, the servant scandalized by the state of her Lord’s half dressed state. Lezard would murmur out a sheepish apology, and pause long enough to button his shirt up the rest of the way.

But he didn’t try to comb through his hair, Lezard running the last steps out of the castle. It was standing room only in the courtyard, the crowd not wanting to give up room to a newcomer. Not until they realized just who it was who was angrily pushing his way through them. A ripple effect went through the crowd, the noise slowly starting to die down as they all grew quiet and moved aside for Lezard. They had sensed some of his mood, and might even have thought they were about to get a new kind of entertainment this day.

They might very well get a show, though Lezard vowed to do his best to disappoint them. There was no way he wanted to allow them the chance to wag their tongues with new information about his and Lenneth’s problems. They had enough to gossip about without needing to know about the mishaps of the night before.

He had reached the front of the crowd, but Lenneth was unaware of his presence. Lezard stared at her, aware his disheveled appearance made him look wild and unkempt. Her back was to him, Lenneth dueling furiously with an older guardsman. His age was not a disadvantage, if anything he had years of experience wielding a sword. But a mere thirty or so years was nothing to Lenneth, who had had at the very least centuries to perfect her blade handling.

The sword was knocked from the man’s hand, Lenneth exerting care not to send it flying out into the crowd. The guardsman looked like he would attempt to lunge after it, but Lenneth’s sword moved, a warning being pointed in his face. The man would draw up short, then bow his head in acknowledgment of his defeat.

Even as the man moved to gather his sword, another was running forward. This was a fresh faced youth, newly initiated into the life of a guardsman. He was so young, he might not have ever fought in any true battles. And yet he had enough enthusiasm to spare for his lack of experience, the youth charging Lenneth with a wild yell. Lenneth side stepped him, the boy nearly falling face first to the ground. But he righted himself at the last moment, and charged her again.

Lenneth turned, and for one brief moment he saw her eyes. Alight with excited emotion, they flickered as she took note of Lezard’s presence. The blue seemed to dim in response to his nearness, and then her sword was moving as though it was an automatic extension of her arm. So distracted had she been by Lezard’s arrival, Lenneth had nearly not gotten her sword up in time to defend the boy’s blow.

She recovered smooth enough, letting the boy clash his sword against her three more times, before she disarmed him of his blade. The young man looked so disappointed, as though he had thought he had had a real chance against the former Goddess. “You need to work more on your defense.” Lenneth told him kindly. “When you attack, you kept leaving your left side vulnerable to attack. If this had been a war, I would have taken advantage to slice you open on that side.”

The boy seemed to blanch at the thought, but nodded his head rapidly. “Yes, Lady Lenneth. I will work harder to fix that vulnerability so that next time we spar, there won’t be any reason for you to be disappointed in me.”

Lezard tried but failed not to glower in the youth’s direction. He wanted to shout that there wouldn’t be a next time, that Lezard wouldn’t allow any of them, not even Lenneth herself, to endanger the former Valkyrie in this way. But somehow he managed to restrain his voice, Lezard merely making fists instead. His mood worsened when it became obvious Lenneth wasn’t going to acknowledge him, the woman looking for her next opponent.

“All right, that’s enough!” Lezard said, his voice raised loud enough for all in the courtyard to hear. “You have patrols to go on.” The crowd let out disappointed sounds, a rumble of protest coming from some of the nobles. “I’m sure we all have more important things to do than to stay out here in the hot sun!”

Little by little the crowd began to disperse, the servants heading back into the castle. Their mini reprieve from work was over, the guardsmen hurrying off to take up positions on the ramparts. But the nobles linger, many moving to take up position in the shade of trees, or sit on the few benches scattered about the courtyard. It was obvious what they were doing, remaining with the intent to spy on Lezard and Lenneth. They tried to hide their intentions with low voiced conversation, but it was clear they were eager to witness a scene of some kind.

Lezard glare at one group in particular, before turning his attention back to Lenneth. She still had the sword in her hand, practicing her swings with it. Over and over she repeated the maneuver, making it look effortless as the sword cut soundlessly through thin air. She didn’t look at Lezard as she did this, seeming content to ignore him. For one brief moment he let her, standing there studying her for tell tale signs. But there didn’t appear to be any kiss marks on her neck, Lezard hoping that was a good thing. But maybe he had been to drunk to linger on one place long enough for marks to be made.

With that doubting thought, Lezard stepped as near to Lenneth as he dared. He was about to speak when she chose to break her silence, the woman never actually looking at him. “You didn’t have to send them away.”

For one moment he wasn’t sure what to say to her. His mind wasn’t working as fast as it could, his head still throbbing. Lezard had forgotten much of his aches and pains when he had seen her fighting, but now they were flooding back into his awareness. Lezard pushed back the pain, trying not to frown at her. “I meant what I said, that they had duties they were neglecting.” No response to that, Lenneth just repeating her swings. “It’s a busy time Lenneth. The wedding is tomorrow…and there’s still so much to do…”

Her lips seemed to flatten into a disapproving line. Lenneth was not pleased to be reminded of their impending nuptials, that much was apparent to Lezard. He held in his sighs, more sure than ever he had done the worst. Worse enough to earn her displeasure. “Have you had a chance to visit the seamstress?” Lezard continued. “I know she was worried about the gown needing adjustments before the ceremony.”

“I will do that today.” Lenneth told him in a toneless tone of voice. Now she had added a forward lunge with her swing, thrusting her sword into an imaginary opponent. Somehow Lezard got the feeling she might be imagining him as the victim to her blade.

“Lenneth….” He bit his lip, uncertain of how to proceed. “Lenneth, I have to talk to you…”

“We ARE talking.” She pointed out.

“No, this is different. I want to talk about last night.” A sudden violent slash through the air, the only betrayal of Lenneth’s anger.

“What is there to talk about?” She inquired in a mild tone of voice.

“There’s…that is, many things….” He stammered, and she began punctuating her words with her sword slashes.

“Oh? Shall we talk about the state you were in when you came calling on me?” Lenneth demanded. “Or should we talk about how you ignore my feelings to push on me your physical needs?!”

He felt terrible. “I was wrong to approach you when I had that much drink in me.” Lezard admitted.

“You were drunk.” She hissed, another violent forward stab of her sword. “You were heedless of my own feelings. You said one thing, and did another!”

“I…I was wrong to do that!” Lezard didn’t like that his voice came out louder than it should. He quickly lowered it, speaking intently to her. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. The drink, Randolf’s brew, it affected me. Made me careless and over eager…”

“Overeager doesn’t begin to cover what you were!” She muttered. He inwardly cringed, wondering just how badly he had pawed at her.

“Lenneth I…”

“You kissed me.” She interrupted, making it sound like the worst accusation ever. “Even knowing how I felt, how I continue to feel. The struggle within me. You kissed me, not once, not twice, but a dozen times at least!”

He didn’t even remember one of those kisses, trying not to flinch in response to her upset. “I…I am sorry…”

“Are you really?!” She demanded, and he let out a loud yes. Lenneth made a hmph of sound, clearly not believing him. Lezard turned desperate, trying to plead.

“Last night was a mistake….”

“A mistake?!” Why did Lezard get the feeling he had used the wrong words?

“I never meant to do that!” He blurted out. “I never meant to take advantage of you in that way. To force myself on you when your heart is so unsure. Lenneth, I…I value you. I value you and your feelings. I never want to cause you distress…I….” He looked away from her, and scowled at the nobles who quickly averted their eyes. “Damn it all, we’re too out in the open. Here, put down that sword and come with me….”

“Why?” She answered, still fighting with her imaginary opponent. “So you can try and seduce me again?”

“Damn it, Lenneth, no!” He made a wild gesture. “Do you really want to have it all out here? Now? With the others so obvious eavesdropping on us?”

Her sword slowed, Lenneth taking a good look at the nobles who remained in the courtyard. Her lips frowned, and then she nodded stiffly. “Very well.” But Lezard noted she didn’t put that the sword, actually carrying it with her as Lenneth followed him into the castle.

He would take her into the empty tea room, pausing only long enough to make certain the door was closed against eavesdroppers. With the door and windows closed, sound shouldn’t carry. At least not loud enough for the words to be clearly made out. Even knowing that, Lezard was tongued tied, not sure what to say exactly to Lenneth. He still had little idea of just how far they had gone, and Lezard actually feared admitting to that. But Lezard had to know, else he would be driven mad wondering just what had happened between them.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, hoping the apologetic words would go over easier this time. Lenneth did not look soothed to hear them, the woman weaving the sword about in complex patterns. Lezard wondered if Lenneth had kept the sword because she need an outlet to express her anger. Or if she brought it as a way to ward him off from her, keep Lezard from approaching too close.

“Truly I am.” He continued. He didn’t begrudge her use of the sword, so long as she didn’t turn the blade against him. “My behavior was deplorable…I…I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” agreed Lenneth. She met his eyes with hers, blue flashing with her stirred up emotions. “Not when you know how I feel. Not when you know I won’t be content to be nothing more than some…some toy to you!”

“But you are not! Never that!” Lezard insisted.

“How can you make that claim after what you did last night?” Lenneth demanded. “When you ignore everything I tell you, and try to force a closeness between us? A closeness you have not earned the right to, no matter what my King might say!”

It was like a slap in the face, to hear her say that. But Lezard didn’t sag his shoulders in defeat. “I know I can probably never meet up with a Valkyrie’s lofty standards of what is worthy…” Lezard began. “But the truth of the matter is, you were given to me! By your King no less! I may not be what you wanted, but now I am what you have! We shouldn’t spend this time fighting, we should be trying to get to know each other.”

“How?” Her tone was tart now. “By stealing more kisses?” He shook his head, trying to say something more. But the words were slow to come, Lenneth talking over him. “By claiming to understand my struggles but alternatively planning to seduce me?”

“No. No, of course not!”

“No? You would deny what you tried to do to me?” Lenneth demanded.

“I told you, I had too much to drink!”

“Being drunk doesn’t excuse your behavior. It only makes the situation that much worse!” Lenneth exclaimed. “Lezard….you HURT me with your actions. With your carelessness.”

“I don’t mean to.” Lezard whispered. He took another good look at Lenneth, wondering if she was bruised elsewhere. Somewhere where her clothing would hide it from sight.

“Then what did you mean to accomplish last night?!” She demanded, her sword twirling to a stop. Her gaze held him riveted, Lezard doing his best to recall the feelings he had, the intentions that had propelled him forward to kiss Lenneth. But try as he might, he wasn’t remembering enough, retaining only those bits and pieces that had been stirred by her nightgown.

Lenneth looked ready to scream in response to his silence. “You kissed me!” She reminded him, eyes flashing with anger. “You kissed away my resistance, and carried me to that bed! I asked you to respect me, to respect the love enchantment I am under. Instead you tried to use me…”

“Tried to?” He questioned sharply. She gave him an odd look, then horror dawned in her expression.

“You don’t even remember, do you?” Lenneth asked, her fingers clenching hard on the sword’s hilt.

He wondered what would be worse, to lie or to be truthful. Feeling sick, Lezard slowly nodded. “I’m afraid much of it is a blur. There’s a few moments but otherwise…” He shrugged, wanting to lower his eyes to shield himself from the hurt of her expression. But Lezard had a hunch that if he looked away, Lenneth might try to run him through with the sword she held.

“What do you remember?”

“You.” Lezard said. “How beautiful you looked in your night gown.” Just the memory of her dressed like that made his heart twist in pain. “I remember talking to you, feeling both our distress. Though I can’t for the life of me remember what was said!”

“Is that all?” Lenneth asked, her voice sounding odd, as if she was trying to keep from screaming.

“There was a moment in the bed. You beneath me….you smelled good…” Heat warmed his face at the admission. “But other than that…” A shrug then. “You weren’t fighting in my memory.” He added. It might be a foolish thing to ask, but Lezard felt he had to know why Lenneth had been so docile. “You didn’t look happy, but you weren’t trying to get away….”

Lenneth didn’t say anything, just stared at him. She didn’t even blush, but her expression hinted at some hurt Lenneth felt. Lezard shifted in place, uncomfortable. “Why didn’t you fight me if you hated it so much?” Still nothing, Lezard inching closer to Lenneth. “I need to know. I have a RIGHT to know.” Suddenly her arm lifted, the sword being thrust before his face.

“You have a right to nothing where I am concerned!” Lenneth hissed. He didn’t bother to correct her that she was wrong. Not when it would only serve to further her anger.

“Then indulge me this one last time.” Lezard begged. The sword did not lower, did not so much as shake in her grip. But Lenneth looked away from him, considering his request.

“I…I’ve already told you how the enchantment makes me feel. How it wreaks havoc on my emotions.” Lenneth said, her words coming out a whisper he had to strain to hear. “It makes me want to love you….makes me yearn for something more than you can ever give me.” He knew she was talking about love then, and felt like a fool punched in the gut. And all because Lezard knew he couldn’t reveal the truth of his emotions to her.

“You should have pushed me away….”

“Don’t you think I wanted to?!” Lenneth demanded. “Don’t you think I tried at first?! But then you kept kissing me…suffocating me with your very nearness….overwhelming me with new sensations.” The sword started to lower, Lenneth looking shaken. “Your kisses had a drugging influence on me…made it difficult to think of anything but the emotions surging in my heart.” She shook her head then, sighing. “I didn’t think I would be able to bare having you touch me like that….not while I am in the grip of the love spell. And I was right!”

Lenneth glared at him now. “Odin’s potions are potent, and only become more effective when I am placed under such a sweet assault! How could I fight you when longing filled my every being? I wanted more of your kisses, wanted to touch and be touched. It was all I could do not to make a complete fool of myself. The only fight I could manage was to lay there and do nothing!”

“Lenneth…” His guilt had increased with every admission, he could barely stand to look at her now.

“I know what my duty is.” She continued as though he hadn’t spoken her name. “I am to be your wife….but do me the courtesy of respect! Keep me from falling for you any further than I already have!”

He couldn’t even make that promise to her, for Lezard wanting nothing more than to have this love he felt for her returned. But he wasn’t thrilling to her words, guilt choking him. “I…forgive me…” He whispered. He didn’t tell her out loud what he begged forgiveness for, Lezard offering Lenneth a tortured look of his own.

“I had doubts to whether or not you are a cruel man…”

“And after last night, do you still doubt?” Lezard asked.

“I am more confused than ever.” She admitted to his surprise. “I can’t help but wonder who the real Lezard is. The side you presented to me these last two days, or the side I saw last night when you kissed me….”

“That wasn’t me! That was the drink!”

“Drinks only lower one’s inhibitions.” She pointed out. “It makes one all the quicker to act on desires.”

Lezard wanted to growl, to howl out Randolf’s name. But he knew the blonde man wasn’t entirely at fault, even if he had helped to get Lezard to the state he had been in the night before. None of the men that had been present in the dining room were truly to blame, the fault for what happened entirely on Lezard’s shoulders. He wondered how Lenneth could bare to even look at him now.

“I do desire you.” He said out loud. “That I will not deny or try to hide. I’ve wanted you since the moment I first laid eyes on you.” That much was true, though Lenneth wouldn’t know just when that first sighting had been. “But I…I would not have had our first time be some drunken coupling. You deserve better…our marriage deserves better. If I could do over again that first time, I would cherish you…worship you the way you deserve.”

She gave him the strangest look then. “I wish my actions could be changed, that I hadn’t caused you such distress.” Lezard continued. “I can only hope in my clumsy attempts, I did not hurt you during love making.”

A slow blinking of her eyes, Lenneth looking confused. The moment passed, understanding dawning in her eyes. “You think we….you think we slept together?” Now it was Lezard’s turn to blink owlishly in confusion.

“Didn’t we?” He asked.

She shook her head no. “You certainly wanted to though!” Hope started within him, Lezard not quite breathing as he waited for Lenneth to finish what she was saying. “No. We did not make love. We didn’t even get that far, you hadn’t even stripped me of my gown before you toppled forward.” She didn’t smile, but he swore he saw her lips twitch with amusement. “It appears the drinks were too much even for you, Lezard.”

“I fell asleep?” He was relieved, but oddly disappointed. Why couldn’t he have passed out before he had visited Lenneth last night? Then all of this upset and awkwardness could have been avoided!!

“Out like a light you were.” Confirmed Lenneth. “I dare say not even the Gods themselves would have been able to rouse you.” He opened his mouth to say something more, but Lenneth was pointing the sword again. “This doesn’t excuse you from making the attempt!” She chided, eyes narrowing into a vicious glare. “And I think you’ll not find me so easy a conquest next time.”

His confusion must have shown, Lenneth allowing a small, smug smirk. “You caught me by surprise. I’ll be wary of your kisses and touches from now on. Perhaps I’ll even be strong enough to overcome both them and Odin’s love potion.”

“Perhaps you will.” He agreed. “You have a strong will. It’s served to keep you free of loving me thus far.”

“A pretty way to say I am just too stubborn to fall in love.” Lenneth retorted.

“Stubborn is not the word I would have used.” Lezard told her.

“But you must have thought it!” Lenneth insisted.

“Not yet I haven’t.” Was he reply. “It doesn’t mean I might not have that thought sometime in the future. But for now I am content to admire you, and your perseverance against the enchantment your King cast upon you.”

“You’ll have to do your admiring elsewhere. I have a sword to return.” Lenneth said. He as pleased to note she walked past him without any sign of wary caution in her movements. But then again, she was armed, and Lezard had no doubt Lenneth would be quick to use that sword if he made a sudden move towards her. He sighed softly, following after Lenneth out into the hall. But it was there they went their separate ways, Lenneth intent on her errand. Lezard himself would head towards his private quarters, intent on bathing and changing into cleaner clothes.

Thoughts of Lenneth accompanied his every action, Lezard thinking on the conversation they had had. It had been upsetting, worrisome even. Lezard knew he had come close to committing a great wrong to Lenneth, one he would have had no hope of atoning for. It was only through a twist of fate that he hadn’t been able to take things any further, Lezard embarrassed but relieved he had passed out on her.

But even as he thought over their conversation, remembering Lenneth’s distress, other memories pressed in. He kept flashing back to that moment in the bed, when Lenneth had been beneath him. When he had buried his fingers in her hair, and leaned in to sniff her pleasing scent. He grew heated from that recollection, and even more so of the memory of how Lenneth had looked in her pretty night gown. Not even a splash of rapidly cooling water could cool him down completely, Lezard grumbling and wondering just what would happen on the night of their wedding.