VP Drabbles Five And Six Tweaked Now (worksafe)
Still relatively work safe, though that menacing sexual tension IS amping up noticeably...
Drabble Five: The Harsh Truth
She spends just about every waking hour wandering about aimlessly. Pacing back and forth in a endlessly restless rhythm, Lenneth this silent ghost that haunts his tower home. He often catches sight of her through open doorways, a vision of such ethereal loveliness and heart breaking sadness, that even Lezard feels the conflict. That slight stirring of a guilt that is at odds with his own selfishness. It’s never enough for anything more than a sad sort of remorse, the frustrated realization that he’ll never be able to make her happy.
He wishes it were otherwise. But it is the impossible that Lezard desires, all that power, that knowledge, and even that desperation nowhere near potent enough for the man to catch at the one facet of the Goddess that still so eludes him. That of her smile, Lenneth instead this sad sort of miserable when around him. It’s there in her eyes, the pain reflected a million times over in that ephemeral blue. That hurt is what greets him, and is what barely tolerates his approach. That wounded look that screams of so much, the woman wary, and shying away before he can land even a single finger to touch upon her.
“Lenneth…” Her name sighs out of him, Lezard falling into step besides the Goddess. She doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second, continuing her aimless journey about his tower home. He trails along with her, bearing silent witness to the mad energy that moves her first hand. It’s an angry swish of her hair, a purposeful pump of her arms, and a determination that he still doesn’t quite understand, Lenneth endlessly patient. Turning corner after corner in a corridor that circles around in on itself, she reminds him less of a woman, and more like some great caged beast, testing the limits of its prison.
Around them is the red glow of magic, the ancient and forbidden symbols he has carved into the very stones of his tower. The runes gleam a brighter shade whenever the Goddess draw too near, those two primordial powers reacting to one another. That sight used to comfort Lezard, but today it makes him uneasy, a dozen what ifs birthing to life in his head. It’s a magic meant to confine, to subdue, to hide away sins, yet each flare of crimson seems to scream like a beacon. It leaves him paranoid, the man looking around as though expecting to see something uninvited appear. That nothing does, can’t set him off from that uneasy edge, Lenneth suddenly seized rough hold of.
There’s the startled sound of her gasp, the woman finding herself forcibly dragged away from the wall and that flare up of magic. That crimson accusation can’t distract from the look in her eyes, that wary unease, or the anger burning hot and sudden inside him.
“It won’t work.” Lezard tells her. “It won’t!”
A slow steady blink is all the answer that he gets, Lezard fighting the impulse to shake some sense into Lenneth. He’s the one raging out of control now, the anger spiking amid heart palpitations of genuine fear. He won’t lose her. He can’t!
He lets out a laugh with that ragged breath, that desperate denial turning him needlessly cruel. She’ll bear the bruises as a result, Lezard landing a low blow not so much on her body as on her soul.
“HE’S not coming.” By her flinch it’s apparent that Lenneth know just who the he that Lezard has referred to is. His name is an unvoiced whisper on her lips, the Goddess trying to draw strength and reassurance from the memory of the man, the youth, whose fate had once caused her to shed such desperate tears over. Though there’s no hint of them now, the cobalt blue of her eyes blazing strong with the woman’s own anger and disdain, Lenneth glaring defiant at Lezard.
“He’ll come.” She bravely insists.
“Oh?” One eyebrow arches, his smile a mockery of the Goddess’ adamant belief in her delusion. “Why is that? Because he loves you? Because you love him? Ha.” He practically spits then, so disgusted by the idea. “You love a memory. You both do.”
The way that she bristles at that, makes Lezard’s lips twist, more smirk than smile expressed. It’s a twisted pleasure that he feels, something depraved inside him livening to the battering his words will give to her.
“Ironic isn’t it?” He taunts her with that. “Those memories that bind us…” There’s a memory in his heart as well, that first glimpse ever of his Goddess having left its lingering impression upon him. Lezard had never been able to shake free of it, had never even wanted to try, instead letting all his drive and desire be fueled by it.
Awe struck by her, the one being in all of Creation fit to be that absolute shade of perfect in his eyes, it had made for a keen understanding of the loneliness to be found in love. The unrequited, or that of the lost, both were powerful, wounding implements that can and did drive one desperate. It made the impossible happen, the heavens themselves torn asunder, a Goddess made mortal, a memory given new form, even Creation itself warped to accommodate a desire. The secret wish of a heart all alone, the dead not so much reborn, as made a pale imitation of what they once had been.
“Do you know what the worst part in all of that is?” Lezard asked her. He didn’t wait for the head shake that never came, that sinful part of him savoring the truth that he was wielding like a weapon. “That you, Lenneth, do not even realize what you’ve done. The lie that you’ve told yourself...the illusions you delude yourself with.”
“What are you….?”
“He’s DEAD.” Came the interruption. “The trickster saw to THAT.”
“I...with the power of Creation, I brought him back. I brought them ALL back.” It was the most his Goddess had ever deigned to say to him, her eyes bright with the belief that was part of her own self denial.
“Oh? Just what did you bring back? The world? The people in it? Or was it just your memories of them given form, Lucian and the likes all just hollow husks of what you wanted them to be!?”
There was the repeated, rapid blink of her eyes, the denial still there. She quickly shook her head no, as though that could stave of what Lezard was saying. It couldn’t, the truth and its seeds once planted, blooms that would spread their discord and doubt within her.
“How lonely you must have been, how DESPERATE.” He continued. “To cleave to that memory, to the perfect paramour that would never have cause to disappoint or hurt you. He’s been the perfect yes man, hasn’t he? Everything you could have wanted Lucian to be, and then some...”
“Stop with your games!”
He pressed on. “He’s never argued, has he? Never had so much as a single cross word, or doubt to be voiced. None of them have. This world of imperfect dreams made peaceful on a whim. YOURS.”
“The people WANTED peace.” She argued.
“Some of them yes, but not ALL.” countered Lezard. It was an almost pitying look that he gave her then. “There should have been some small faction of resistance, some who still made trouble...Humans are naturally prone to fighting after all, always wanting something more, something bigger and better than what they have been given. Whole wars have been fought over that, people enslaved or killed, actually sacrificed in the name of greed’s greater good.”
“You’ve seen it with your own eyes.” continued Lezard. “You’ve judged many a soul, walked the fields of battles waged in the name of that greed. You’ve seen the worst in humanity, seen the destruction done to realms and lives first hand.”
She had started to shake, as though fighting the doubts that were trying to smash apart her beliefs.
“Why even that man…”
“You know nothing about him!” Lenneth cried out. “Or me!” She was almost violent, trying to jerk free of his hands grip on her arms.
“I know more than you’d like to admit to!” His eyes had narrowed with that, the angry energy within him rising to the challenge. “He helped doom an entire world with his reckless antics. He was so stupid and blind to the threat, so intent on reaching out to you for his own selfish desires, that he let the orb fall right into the trickster’s hands!”
“He paid a steep penance as a result. He DIED.”
“Yes. He died. The whole world in fact did! All of Creation destroyed in an instant, God, human, and demon alike! That man damned an entire existence to NOTHING. Loki may have wielded the power, but Lucian is the one who made the foolish choice. It’s time you not only realize it, but accept that!”
“No...I never….I never denied his wrong in all this...”
“Yet you excuse it.” Lezard hissed, tightening his grip to be even more secure on her struggling form. “You excuse and you forgive, filling this new world with a memory of him. A memory not of how he was, but of how you idealized him to be. How you wished them ALL to be. Do you truly enjoy surrounding yourself with those puppets!? Or are you just so lonely, that you don’t care!?”
“Lenneth...” By the look blazing in her eyes, Lezard had a feeling his beloved Goddess would have slapped him had she been able to get free.
“No!”
“It is meaningless.” He snapped. “His feelings, his memories, his sense of self, all things you supplied his fake with. That one loves you, not because he wants to, but because he has no choice! None of them do!”
She was thrashing so hard against him that Lezard feared the hurt that Lenneth would cause to herself. She was simply too wild in the moment, too agitated, a violent energy trapped inside her, the woman unable to face the truth. She tried to keep on denying it, to keep on deluding herself that this happy, perfect world that she had created, was in fact the same one that had been lost to Ragnarok. A piece of her might break to acknowledge otherwise, this new world, populated with perfect replicas of those who had been sacrificed, a safe haven to the Goddess who had already lost so much.
He wasn’t without feeling. If anything, Lezard felt too much where the Goddess was concerned. That slight stirring of sympathy was outweighed by his own selfish need, the man wanting Lenneth to truly open her eyes, and take a good look around at the world she had created. This idyllic dream that was built on nothing more than lies, powered by the wish of her lonely heart.
He could understand her reasons. Could understand how powerful a motivator that feeling was. Lezard could even lay claim to the selfish side of lonely, given the lengths he had attempted in an effort to obtain Lenneth in a form he could control and subdue. But the man had also never tried to lie to himself about just what he had done. That of the lives ruined, the sins committed, and the world ruined. Its one balance gone, this perfect existence that Lenneth had created WOULD fall to pieces. Without a God to rule over them, those people she had birthed into life were without aim and purpose, doomed to repeat a cycle of old, destructive habits. It might not happen with this generation, or even the next, but sooner than later, those perfect ideals would be forgotten, the love she had infused her memories with halving, again and again, until only the fragments remained.
When that happened, greed would reign supreme, wars once again devastating the lands. Only this time there would be no saving grace, no divine hand to play benevolent for them. With none to guide them, no God to give voice to the concern, they wouldn’t even CARE. Without Lenneth to show them the way, these replicated souls wouldn’t even think to come looking for their lost Goddess.
“No one is coming for you.” He hissed the thought out loud. “No one even cares enough to try.” She let loose with a wild shriek of denial at that, Lezard hauling her struggling form up against the solid mass of his. She didn’t quite still at that, Lenneth letting out a gasp to find herself all but knocked off balance. It was Lezard’s hands that steadied and held her upright, the Goddess a trembling mess in his arms that only shook harder for his words. The truth that he taunted her with.
“Oh I am sure a select few will wonder where you’ve gone.” He continued in that relentless tone. “But in this utopia that you helped make for them, few if any would ever dare imagine that there could be trouble of ANY kind in this paradise. Certainly they couldn’t imagine the likes of ME!” He bent his head towards hers, breathing in the scent of an anger turned fearful. “After all, YOU couldn’t.”
It was a bitter gloat, Lezard knowing that he was the only human in all of Creation to be so uniquely his own. Free of the Goddess’ influence, his was the only human soul to have survived the destruction of Ragnarok. It had cost him the philosopher's stone, and a body or two, but he had endured, with his own mind and free will intact, while still harboring this combination of love and lust that went beyond any mere memories capability of feeling.
“You hadn’t a single thought to spare for one such as me.” He almost laughed then, watching as the narrowed blue of her eyes widened with the dawning realization. “None of you did. Now none of THEM will.”
With that, he covered her mouth with his, muffling a sound that was a cross between his triumph and her dismay. It was the sweet and the bitter all at once, this victory a potent mix of wicked elation and his mounting frustration. Lenneth wasn’t the only one left shaking as a result, Lezard feeling the tremors shudder through him. In the moment, he was a conduit of competing emotion, all the negative at war with the positive, the anger and the disappointments, the gloating and the relief, making for this riotous combination of a barely leashed aggression.
It was so utterly consuming, so completely sexual in nature, Lenneth’s muffled screams only provoking him further. He laved his tongue against hers, kissing her thoroughly enough as to leave the Goddess breathless. Lezard tasted tears in that expression, hers, the fight being leeched out of Lenneth bit by bitter bit.
To Be Continued…
Drabble Six:
He stares at a half empty bottle, its cap and its cup tossed aside, to instead partake directly of its poison. That amber bitterness was currently burning a path down his throat, liquid resentment and festering desires settling low in his belly. It didn’t make for a happy drunk, Lezard this crackling live wire of raging fury and lusts, but made even more wild and dangerous than was the norm. With each and every swallow, the leash around his aggression, his few remaining inhibitions, frayed more and more, the man, this sinner, closer and closer to snapping.
It was exactly the reason why he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be indulging like this. That amber liquid only helped to destroy what little of his reason was left, and with it went his ability to tell right from wrong, all those wicked little impulses and depraved urges looking more and more like a good thing to do. Bolstered by that fool’s courage, Lezard was one mistake away from a complete and utter ruin.
Even knowing this, he had still reached for the bottle. The cold glass couldn’t contain the warmth inside, the powerful drink this potent heat that only blazed stronger once settled on his tongue. He should have spit it out immediately but that one taste had held a drugging effect, mouthful after mouthful being greedily guzzled down. Its sharp feel in his belly, couldn’t take away from the sting of that slap, the remembered violence a rejection Lezard had taken to black heart.
Lenneth. She had been so angry, the Goddess made furious and even more so than he could ever recall, her blues eyes alive with that mad emotion. With that feral rage, the woman had channeled it all into the strength of her hand against his cheek. She had been beautiful even then, her despair and her loathing a pale shade when placed next to the more volatile of her emotion. Lenneth hadn’t even tried to suppress it, that strong surge of hate and denial, all so thoroughly expressed in the moment, the Goddess actually feeling towards him. It was everything that Lezard could have hoped for, even if it was all wrong, the sentiments expressed, that animosity, the direct opposite of what he as a man had been wanting.
The bottle to his lips once again, Lezard sighed with his disappointment. Bitter sweet was the heart that felt so strongly, that anger and that fear, that hate and that denial, souring what could have been perceived as a victory. His triumph over her, the man at last so thoroughly in the Goddess’ head. It was his words that had colored her thoughts, that had inspired so violent a reaction. She had not only taken note of him, Lenneth had reacted, the woman unable to help herself. With every word, every snarled out protest and denial, she had lost herself completely in the moment. To HIM, Lezard all that she could see, all that the Valkyrie could hear, that unpleasant truth breathed out between them.
So thoroughly caught up by him, was it any wonder that Lezard hadn’t been able to resist her? That he hadn’t even tried, sealing his win over her with that stolen touch, Lenneth’s lips this trembling texture of softness that had parted in a moment of pure outrage. He had taken the kiss, and then some, a thorough taste sampled with tongue and teeth meshing together. It had been greedy, it had been sloppy, and most of all, it had been bloody, Lenneth biting at Lezard in an effort to dissuade him. Deviant that he was, the pain had only provoked his desire further, a wild sound having escaped him.
It had been intoxicating, all that power and unbridled fury and even that fear, all ignited inside her, his Goddess made sick with it, sick with him, Lenneth a captive to that uncontrollable emotion. Made wild in the moment, there had been no room for anything else, not even thoughts of him, of Lucian, or of that memory she had made to take his place. The world and its people, the hopes she had entertained, instead lost to Lezard’s own dreams and ambitions. With those desires, that sentiment thoroughly tasted, Lenneth had been made even more radiant, her eyes wild with every last bit of it.
It had left her shaken, the Goddess unable to shield herself from him. Gone had been the cold disinterest, Lezard reflected inside her a thousand times over. In her thoughts, and in her heart, that sliver of hate a poison that weakened her to him. She had not only taken note of him, Lenneth had FELT, the woman colored by a passion that had been both his and hers, the push and pull clash of opposing sides a different shade of the same flavor, love and hate so closely intertwined that only the thinnest of lines divided them.
Love his passion, hate had now been hers, Lenneth having boiled over with it. That it had then practically personified her, the Goddess made livid with Lezard. Her blue eyes had sparked with it, Lenneth hissing and shouting at him. All that unabated fury at last taking an outlet, the man a glutton for every last ounce of it. Each slap, and every curse, months upon months of her anger, her disappointments, and even her private fears, unleashed. She had all but sobbed with it, racked with those violent shudders, and the persistent truth that had been forced on her.
Somehow, impossibly so, it had gone from that violent kiss, to them on their knees, Lezard’s arms still locked around hers. It hadn’t been quite comfort but neither had it been meant as a menace, Lezard just holding her. They had weathered through the storm of that inexhaustible emotion together, each and every thunder clap, Lenneth sagging in his embrace. Wilted like a flower, with all the fight and vitality having leeched out of her, the Goddess had been made almost pliant.
The occasional tremor had still shook through that slender frame of hers, a stuttered breath having caught in the throat of an otherwise silent Goddess. He should have been content with that much, the timing having been all wrong for anything more. Yet he had tried all the same, Lezard not so much discarding the signs, as having thought to give Lenneth one last push, a nudge in the only direction that made sense. With his hands having been on her, with his fingers having combed through the luxurious locks of her hair, he had went for one last truth.
“Now you can admit to it...” That husky whisper had seem to fill the room, somehow expanding to fit into each nook and cranny, so that the sound of his voice had echoed off the very walls. “This world for the sham that it is…that it has always been.”
She had not made so much as a sound, the only sign of her comprehension had been that of Lenneth’s flinch against him. He had kept on petting over her hair, the touch meant to soothe, to calm the worst of the Goddess’ breaking heart.
“Such a lie, while pretty on the surface, can’t begin to placate the void left behind. That lonely feeling gnawing inside you, piece by jagged piece, the emptiness consuming you so that you are always searching, always looking for that elusive something that cannot be found in memories alone. Precious though they may be, those sweet recollections are flawed.”
“Flawed...” It had been the softest of whispers, only audible due to the close proximity that had been between them.
“People tend to idealize the past.” Lezard had then explained. “They take all of the good, and choose to remember little of the bad. Often lamenting for a time that their minds recall as better than it had actually been, it’s not the years gone by that they are longing for, so much as their dreams for a better world...”
Again that sharp flinch, as though his words had scored a direct hit against her. Lezard had hid a smile against the top of the trembling Goddess’ hair, the sweet scent of it having been flavored with that of her misery. His hand had continued to pet over her, the Valkyrie almost docile in the moment, as she had knelt caught between the cage of his arms.
“No one is immune to that kind of longing.” Lezard had continued. “Not humans, not demons, and certainly not you!”
“We are ALL imperfect creatures, when it comes to emotion. Perhaps the other Gods had once been able to claim better than we, but those relics are no more. Made useless by their inability to grow, those stagnant beings were doomed not just by the trickster, but by their own refusal to feel.”
Each flinch had been telling, painting to vivid life a great many things. Her pain, her heartbreak, a guilt and even an agreement, reluctant though it had been.
“You know as well as I do, how little they valued feelings. How they practically feared human emotion. Given how they tried to suppress yours, it is no wonder there was no love lost. No love and no room for ones such as they, in this idyllic peace that you have created.”
She had lifted her head up at that, the striking cobalt color of her eyes piercing into him. The Goddess had tried and failed to contain her emotions, all that pain and uncertainty having swirled to vivid life inside her. The wet sheen of her gaze had betrayed even more, though no tear had outright fallen free.
“It can’t last.” The words had been firm where his voice had been soft, Lezard having tried to gentle that next blow. “Wonderful dream though it started as, that continued void inside you, that loneliness eating away at your insides, will mark it for the nightmare it is in truth. Those souls you have surrounded yourself with, those puppets whose memories help to placate that emptiness? Even those will eventually no longer be enough. Even HE will no longer be enough, none of them able to understand you. None of them to even want to try.”
His fingers had still been combing over her hair, Lezard having then bent his face over hers to breathe against her cheek. “I am different. I am the one being that exists in all of this creation, who not only understands, but has the free will to choose. I am the only one that can be your equal, your confidant, your port in this storm. I alone can give you what you need, what the others lack, what even HE falls short of.”
Her eyes had been gleaming, that wet sheen having held the tears but also that of a fading defiance. That tired anger hadn’t been capable of blazing any hotter, hers a spirit that had stood on the verge of breaking, the Goddess weary, and made so wholly human in that moment. Vulnerable, that weakness’ fine quiver having run its course through her, Lenneth having been primed for that one final blow that could have shattered apart completely, or have healed that rift between them.
It had been a gamble, but then any mention of that man, always was. Lucian having long held such a strangle hold on the Goddess’ heart, HIS feelings having tried to shape and mold Lenneth’s in turn, the woman, the Goddess having been forced into yet another role, into becoming the living embodiment of a memory long dead. It had been as laughable as it had been infuriating, that man, that boy, trying to shape the Goddess with his own personal desires. It was the utmost in ironic, that Lezard could be accused of doing the same, but with one key difference. The mage, that sinner, that depraved madman, had seen and wanted Lenenth for who she really was, and not who she could have once been.
“I SEE you.” Lezard had breathed out loud. “I see the benevolent Goddess with the heart so capable and willing to love, who had broken free of her fate, the path that been carved out for her. I see the woman who had felt for the world, who had cried out at its loss. I see that noble and proud spirit, the warrior who had and still does fight to the bitter end, and that lonely soul who has tried to content herself with the memories. I see you for YOU, and not the girl, that single incarnation that was one out of so many, that HE would have had you be.”
“Lucian….”
“Yes, Lucian.” He had practically sneered with that name, Lezard absolutely furious. Angry over what that foolish boy had tried to do, and made even madder over what Lenneth had allowed of it. “It’s not YOU that he had loved, it’s that girl, that memory of a life taken too soon.”
“Platina only died when she did because Odin had had need of me!”
“So that then excuses the boy?” Lezard had demanded. “All his misdeeds and sins, every last one, forgiven so that you might play a memory for him? What kind of life would that have been? For you and for him?! IF he had lived, had actually survived the trickster’s treachery, would living that lie with him have made you happy?!”
“I...”
“That you even hesitate tells me enough. It wouldn’t, it couldn’t, no matter which version of Lucian you end with. So then tell me, Lenneth, why!? Why continue to live out this farce with the memory you have made to replace him!? Why Lenneth? When right before you is one just as devoted and ready to be with the TRUE you!”
A slap had then met with his cheek, Lenneth having managed enough force in that blow, to have turned him aside.
“How dare you!” She had seethed out at him.
“That’s right, I DARE!” Lezard had hissed back. “I am the only one who does, the only one who can, full of the truth and all of its unpleasant aspects that you don’t want to acknowledge, let alone hear! It is cold fact that I am armed with, all those niggling little worries and doubts inside you at last given voice! Hate me if you must, but stop surrounding yourself with those lies!”
“I already do hate you!” She had all but shouted in his face, attempting to then push herself free of him. “For each and every thing that you have done and will do, for the one remaining happiness that you try to take from me!” Her wild, spastic struggles had then become violent, Lenneth repeatedly striking at him with both of her hands, attempting to slap her way to freedom. Her voice had then caught on a sob, the futility of what she had been attempting then proven to her by Lezard’s own strength. By the hands holding her down, that heavy weight atop her, Lenneth suddenly on her back.
Even then she had gleamed defiant, the bold blue of her eyes a challenge for Lezard to do his worst. Goddess help them both, but he had considered it, that temptation having betrayed itself in the fine tremor that had shuddered it’s way through him.
There would have been no going back had he truly snapped. Just as there would be no moving forward if he continued to hold himself back. That indecision had warred inside him, the one dominant thought in all of this, that of how much simpler things would have been, if Lenneth would have just agreed to be his.
To Be Continued…
Drabble Five: The Harsh Truth
She spends just about every waking hour wandering about aimlessly. Pacing back and forth in a endlessly restless rhythm, Lenneth this silent ghost that haunts his tower home. He often catches sight of her through open doorways, a vision of such ethereal loveliness and heart breaking sadness, that even Lezard feels the conflict. That slight stirring of a guilt that is at odds with his own selfishness. It’s never enough for anything more than a sad sort of remorse, the frustrated realization that he’ll never be able to make her happy.
He wishes it were otherwise. But it is the impossible that Lezard desires, all that power, that knowledge, and even that desperation nowhere near potent enough for the man to catch at the one facet of the Goddess that still so eludes him. That of her smile, Lenneth instead this sad sort of miserable when around him. It’s there in her eyes, the pain reflected a million times over in that ephemeral blue. That hurt is what greets him, and is what barely tolerates his approach. That wounded look that screams of so much, the woman wary, and shying away before he can land even a single finger to touch upon her.
“Lenneth…” Her name sighs out of him, Lezard falling into step besides the Goddess. She doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second, continuing her aimless journey about his tower home. He trails along with her, bearing silent witness to the mad energy that moves her first hand. It’s an angry swish of her hair, a purposeful pump of her arms, and a determination that he still doesn’t quite understand, Lenneth endlessly patient. Turning corner after corner in a corridor that circles around in on itself, she reminds him less of a woman, and more like some great caged beast, testing the limits of its prison.
Around them is the red glow of magic, the ancient and forbidden symbols he has carved into the very stones of his tower. The runes gleam a brighter shade whenever the Goddess draw too near, those two primordial powers reacting to one another. That sight used to comfort Lezard, but today it makes him uneasy, a dozen what ifs birthing to life in his head. It’s a magic meant to confine, to subdue, to hide away sins, yet each flare of crimson seems to scream like a beacon. It leaves him paranoid, the man looking around as though expecting to see something uninvited appear. That nothing does, can’t set him off from that uneasy edge, Lenneth suddenly seized rough hold of.
There’s the startled sound of her gasp, the woman finding herself forcibly dragged away from the wall and that flare up of magic. That crimson accusation can’t distract from the look in her eyes, that wary unease, or the anger burning hot and sudden inside him.
“It won’t work.” Lezard tells her. “It won’t!”
A slow steady blink is all the answer that he gets, Lezard fighting the impulse to shake some sense into Lenneth. He’s the one raging out of control now, the anger spiking amid heart palpitations of genuine fear. He won’t lose her. He can’t!
He lets out a laugh with that ragged breath, that desperate denial turning him needlessly cruel. She’ll bear the bruises as a result, Lezard landing a low blow not so much on her body as on her soul.
“HE’S not coming.” By her flinch it’s apparent that Lenneth know just who the he that Lezard has referred to is. His name is an unvoiced whisper on her lips, the Goddess trying to draw strength and reassurance from the memory of the man, the youth, whose fate had once caused her to shed such desperate tears over. Though there’s no hint of them now, the cobalt blue of her eyes blazing strong with the woman’s own anger and disdain, Lenneth glaring defiant at Lezard.
“He’ll come.” She bravely insists.
“Oh?” One eyebrow arches, his smile a mockery of the Goddess’ adamant belief in her delusion. “Why is that? Because he loves you? Because you love him? Ha.” He practically spits then, so disgusted by the idea. “You love a memory. You both do.”
The way that she bristles at that, makes Lezard’s lips twist, more smirk than smile expressed. It’s a twisted pleasure that he feels, something depraved inside him livening to the battering his words will give to her.
“Ironic isn’t it?” He taunts her with that. “Those memories that bind us…” There’s a memory in his heart as well, that first glimpse ever of his Goddess having left its lingering impression upon him. Lezard had never been able to shake free of it, had never even wanted to try, instead letting all his drive and desire be fueled by it.
Awe struck by her, the one being in all of Creation fit to be that absolute shade of perfect in his eyes, it had made for a keen understanding of the loneliness to be found in love. The unrequited, or that of the lost, both were powerful, wounding implements that can and did drive one desperate. It made the impossible happen, the heavens themselves torn asunder, a Goddess made mortal, a memory given new form, even Creation itself warped to accommodate a desire. The secret wish of a heart all alone, the dead not so much reborn, as made a pale imitation of what they once had been.
“Do you know what the worst part in all of that is?” Lezard asked her. He didn’t wait for the head shake that never came, that sinful part of him savoring the truth that he was wielding like a weapon. “That you, Lenneth, do not even realize what you’ve done. The lie that you’ve told yourself...the illusions you delude yourself with.”
“What are you….?”
“He’s DEAD.” Came the interruption. “The trickster saw to THAT.”
“I...with the power of Creation, I brought him back. I brought them ALL back.” It was the most his Goddess had ever deigned to say to him, her eyes bright with the belief that was part of her own self denial.
“Oh? Just what did you bring back? The world? The people in it? Or was it just your memories of them given form, Lucian and the likes all just hollow husks of what you wanted them to be!?”
There was the repeated, rapid blink of her eyes, the denial still there. She quickly shook her head no, as though that could stave of what Lezard was saying. It couldn’t, the truth and its seeds once planted, blooms that would spread their discord and doubt within her.
“How lonely you must have been, how DESPERATE.” He continued. “To cleave to that memory, to the perfect paramour that would never have cause to disappoint or hurt you. He’s been the perfect yes man, hasn’t he? Everything you could have wanted Lucian to be, and then some...”
“Stop with your games!”
He pressed on. “He’s never argued, has he? Never had so much as a single cross word, or doubt to be voiced. None of them have. This world of imperfect dreams made peaceful on a whim. YOURS.”
“The people WANTED peace.” She argued.
“Some of them yes, but not ALL.” countered Lezard. It was an almost pitying look that he gave her then. “There should have been some small faction of resistance, some who still made trouble...Humans are naturally prone to fighting after all, always wanting something more, something bigger and better than what they have been given. Whole wars have been fought over that, people enslaved or killed, actually sacrificed in the name of greed’s greater good.”
“You’ve seen it with your own eyes.” continued Lezard. “You’ve judged many a soul, walked the fields of battles waged in the name of that greed. You’ve seen the worst in humanity, seen the destruction done to realms and lives first hand.”
She had started to shake, as though fighting the doubts that were trying to smash apart her beliefs.
“Why even that man…”
“You know nothing about him!” Lenneth cried out. “Or me!” She was almost violent, trying to jerk free of his hands grip on her arms.
“I know more than you’d like to admit to!” His eyes had narrowed with that, the angry energy within him rising to the challenge. “He helped doom an entire world with his reckless antics. He was so stupid and blind to the threat, so intent on reaching out to you for his own selfish desires, that he let the orb fall right into the trickster’s hands!”
“He paid a steep penance as a result. He DIED.”
“Yes. He died. The whole world in fact did! All of Creation destroyed in an instant, God, human, and demon alike! That man damned an entire existence to NOTHING. Loki may have wielded the power, but Lucian is the one who made the foolish choice. It’s time you not only realize it, but accept that!”
“No...I never….I never denied his wrong in all this...”
“Yet you excuse it.” Lezard hissed, tightening his grip to be even more secure on her struggling form. “You excuse and you forgive, filling this new world with a memory of him. A memory not of how he was, but of how you idealized him to be. How you wished them ALL to be. Do you truly enjoy surrounding yourself with those puppets!? Or are you just so lonely, that you don’t care!?”
“Lenneth...” By the look blazing in her eyes, Lezard had a feeling his beloved Goddess would have slapped him had she been able to get free.
“No!”
“It is meaningless.” He snapped. “His feelings, his memories, his sense of self, all things you supplied his fake with. That one loves you, not because he wants to, but because he has no choice! None of them do!”
She was thrashing so hard against him that Lezard feared the hurt that Lenneth would cause to herself. She was simply too wild in the moment, too agitated, a violent energy trapped inside her, the woman unable to face the truth. She tried to keep on denying it, to keep on deluding herself that this happy, perfect world that she had created, was in fact the same one that had been lost to Ragnarok. A piece of her might break to acknowledge otherwise, this new world, populated with perfect replicas of those who had been sacrificed, a safe haven to the Goddess who had already lost so much.
He wasn’t without feeling. If anything, Lezard felt too much where the Goddess was concerned. That slight stirring of sympathy was outweighed by his own selfish need, the man wanting Lenneth to truly open her eyes, and take a good look around at the world she had created. This idyllic dream that was built on nothing more than lies, powered by the wish of her lonely heart.
He could understand her reasons. Could understand how powerful a motivator that feeling was. Lezard could even lay claim to the selfish side of lonely, given the lengths he had attempted in an effort to obtain Lenneth in a form he could control and subdue. But the man had also never tried to lie to himself about just what he had done. That of the lives ruined, the sins committed, and the world ruined. Its one balance gone, this perfect existence that Lenneth had created WOULD fall to pieces. Without a God to rule over them, those people she had birthed into life were without aim and purpose, doomed to repeat a cycle of old, destructive habits. It might not happen with this generation, or even the next, but sooner than later, those perfect ideals would be forgotten, the love she had infused her memories with halving, again and again, until only the fragments remained.
When that happened, greed would reign supreme, wars once again devastating the lands. Only this time there would be no saving grace, no divine hand to play benevolent for them. With none to guide them, no God to give voice to the concern, they wouldn’t even CARE. Without Lenneth to show them the way, these replicated souls wouldn’t even think to come looking for their lost Goddess.
“No one is coming for you.” He hissed the thought out loud. “No one even cares enough to try.” She let loose with a wild shriek of denial at that, Lezard hauling her struggling form up against the solid mass of his. She didn’t quite still at that, Lenneth letting out a gasp to find herself all but knocked off balance. It was Lezard’s hands that steadied and held her upright, the Goddess a trembling mess in his arms that only shook harder for his words. The truth that he taunted her with.
“Oh I am sure a select few will wonder where you’ve gone.” He continued in that relentless tone. “But in this utopia that you helped make for them, few if any would ever dare imagine that there could be trouble of ANY kind in this paradise. Certainly they couldn’t imagine the likes of ME!” He bent his head towards hers, breathing in the scent of an anger turned fearful. “After all, YOU couldn’t.”
It was a bitter gloat, Lezard knowing that he was the only human in all of Creation to be so uniquely his own. Free of the Goddess’ influence, his was the only human soul to have survived the destruction of Ragnarok. It had cost him the philosopher's stone, and a body or two, but he had endured, with his own mind and free will intact, while still harboring this combination of love and lust that went beyond any mere memories capability of feeling.
“You hadn’t a single thought to spare for one such as me.” He almost laughed then, watching as the narrowed blue of her eyes widened with the dawning realization. “None of you did. Now none of THEM will.”
With that, he covered her mouth with his, muffling a sound that was a cross between his triumph and her dismay. It was the sweet and the bitter all at once, this victory a potent mix of wicked elation and his mounting frustration. Lenneth wasn’t the only one left shaking as a result, Lezard feeling the tremors shudder through him. In the moment, he was a conduit of competing emotion, all the negative at war with the positive, the anger and the disappointments, the gloating and the relief, making for this riotous combination of a barely leashed aggression.
It was so utterly consuming, so completely sexual in nature, Lenneth’s muffled screams only provoking him further. He laved his tongue against hers, kissing her thoroughly enough as to leave the Goddess breathless. Lezard tasted tears in that expression, hers, the fight being leeched out of Lenneth bit by bitter bit.
To Be Continued…
Drabble Six:
He stares at a half empty bottle, its cap and its cup tossed aside, to instead partake directly of its poison. That amber bitterness was currently burning a path down his throat, liquid resentment and festering desires settling low in his belly. It didn’t make for a happy drunk, Lezard this crackling live wire of raging fury and lusts, but made even more wild and dangerous than was the norm. With each and every swallow, the leash around his aggression, his few remaining inhibitions, frayed more and more, the man, this sinner, closer and closer to snapping.
It was exactly the reason why he shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be indulging like this. That amber liquid only helped to destroy what little of his reason was left, and with it went his ability to tell right from wrong, all those wicked little impulses and depraved urges looking more and more like a good thing to do. Bolstered by that fool’s courage, Lezard was one mistake away from a complete and utter ruin.
Even knowing this, he had still reached for the bottle. The cold glass couldn’t contain the warmth inside, the powerful drink this potent heat that only blazed stronger once settled on his tongue. He should have spit it out immediately but that one taste had held a drugging effect, mouthful after mouthful being greedily guzzled down. Its sharp feel in his belly, couldn’t take away from the sting of that slap, the remembered violence a rejection Lezard had taken to black heart.
Lenneth. She had been so angry, the Goddess made furious and even more so than he could ever recall, her blues eyes alive with that mad emotion. With that feral rage, the woman had channeled it all into the strength of her hand against his cheek. She had been beautiful even then, her despair and her loathing a pale shade when placed next to the more volatile of her emotion. Lenneth hadn’t even tried to suppress it, that strong surge of hate and denial, all so thoroughly expressed in the moment, the Goddess actually feeling towards him. It was everything that Lezard could have hoped for, even if it was all wrong, the sentiments expressed, that animosity, the direct opposite of what he as a man had been wanting.
The bottle to his lips once again, Lezard sighed with his disappointment. Bitter sweet was the heart that felt so strongly, that anger and that fear, that hate and that denial, souring what could have been perceived as a victory. His triumph over her, the man at last so thoroughly in the Goddess’ head. It was his words that had colored her thoughts, that had inspired so violent a reaction. She had not only taken note of him, Lenneth had reacted, the woman unable to help herself. With every word, every snarled out protest and denial, she had lost herself completely in the moment. To HIM, Lezard all that she could see, all that the Valkyrie could hear, that unpleasant truth breathed out between them.
So thoroughly caught up by him, was it any wonder that Lezard hadn’t been able to resist her? That he hadn’t even tried, sealing his win over her with that stolen touch, Lenneth’s lips this trembling texture of softness that had parted in a moment of pure outrage. He had taken the kiss, and then some, a thorough taste sampled with tongue and teeth meshing together. It had been greedy, it had been sloppy, and most of all, it had been bloody, Lenneth biting at Lezard in an effort to dissuade him. Deviant that he was, the pain had only provoked his desire further, a wild sound having escaped him.
It had been intoxicating, all that power and unbridled fury and even that fear, all ignited inside her, his Goddess made sick with it, sick with him, Lenneth a captive to that uncontrollable emotion. Made wild in the moment, there had been no room for anything else, not even thoughts of him, of Lucian, or of that memory she had made to take his place. The world and its people, the hopes she had entertained, instead lost to Lezard’s own dreams and ambitions. With those desires, that sentiment thoroughly tasted, Lenneth had been made even more radiant, her eyes wild with every last bit of it.
It had left her shaken, the Goddess unable to shield herself from him. Gone had been the cold disinterest, Lezard reflected inside her a thousand times over. In her thoughts, and in her heart, that sliver of hate a poison that weakened her to him. She had not only taken note of him, Lenneth had FELT, the woman colored by a passion that had been both his and hers, the push and pull clash of opposing sides a different shade of the same flavor, love and hate so closely intertwined that only the thinnest of lines divided them.
Love his passion, hate had now been hers, Lenneth having boiled over with it. That it had then practically personified her, the Goddess made livid with Lezard. Her blue eyes had sparked with it, Lenneth hissing and shouting at him. All that unabated fury at last taking an outlet, the man a glutton for every last ounce of it. Each slap, and every curse, months upon months of her anger, her disappointments, and even her private fears, unleashed. She had all but sobbed with it, racked with those violent shudders, and the persistent truth that had been forced on her.
Somehow, impossibly so, it had gone from that violent kiss, to them on their knees, Lezard’s arms still locked around hers. It hadn’t been quite comfort but neither had it been meant as a menace, Lezard just holding her. They had weathered through the storm of that inexhaustible emotion together, each and every thunder clap, Lenneth sagging in his embrace. Wilted like a flower, with all the fight and vitality having leeched out of her, the Goddess had been made almost pliant.
The occasional tremor had still shook through that slender frame of hers, a stuttered breath having caught in the throat of an otherwise silent Goddess. He should have been content with that much, the timing having been all wrong for anything more. Yet he had tried all the same, Lezard not so much discarding the signs, as having thought to give Lenneth one last push, a nudge in the only direction that made sense. With his hands having been on her, with his fingers having combed through the luxurious locks of her hair, he had went for one last truth.
“Now you can admit to it...” That husky whisper had seem to fill the room, somehow expanding to fit into each nook and cranny, so that the sound of his voice had echoed off the very walls. “This world for the sham that it is…that it has always been.”
She had not made so much as a sound, the only sign of her comprehension had been that of Lenneth’s flinch against him. He had kept on petting over her hair, the touch meant to soothe, to calm the worst of the Goddess’ breaking heart.
“Such a lie, while pretty on the surface, can’t begin to placate the void left behind. That lonely feeling gnawing inside you, piece by jagged piece, the emptiness consuming you so that you are always searching, always looking for that elusive something that cannot be found in memories alone. Precious though they may be, those sweet recollections are flawed.”
“Flawed...” It had been the softest of whispers, only audible due to the close proximity that had been between them.
“People tend to idealize the past.” Lezard had then explained. “They take all of the good, and choose to remember little of the bad. Often lamenting for a time that their minds recall as better than it had actually been, it’s not the years gone by that they are longing for, so much as their dreams for a better world...”
Again that sharp flinch, as though his words had scored a direct hit against her. Lezard had hid a smile against the top of the trembling Goddess’ hair, the sweet scent of it having been flavored with that of her misery. His hand had continued to pet over her, the Valkyrie almost docile in the moment, as she had knelt caught between the cage of his arms.
“No one is immune to that kind of longing.” Lezard had continued. “Not humans, not demons, and certainly not you!”
“We are ALL imperfect creatures, when it comes to emotion. Perhaps the other Gods had once been able to claim better than we, but those relics are no more. Made useless by their inability to grow, those stagnant beings were doomed not just by the trickster, but by their own refusal to feel.”
Each flinch had been telling, painting to vivid life a great many things. Her pain, her heartbreak, a guilt and even an agreement, reluctant though it had been.
“You know as well as I do, how little they valued feelings. How they practically feared human emotion. Given how they tried to suppress yours, it is no wonder there was no love lost. No love and no room for ones such as they, in this idyllic peace that you have created.”
She had lifted her head up at that, the striking cobalt color of her eyes piercing into him. The Goddess had tried and failed to contain her emotions, all that pain and uncertainty having swirled to vivid life inside her. The wet sheen of her gaze had betrayed even more, though no tear had outright fallen free.
“It can’t last.” The words had been firm where his voice had been soft, Lezard having tried to gentle that next blow. “Wonderful dream though it started as, that continued void inside you, that loneliness eating away at your insides, will mark it for the nightmare it is in truth. Those souls you have surrounded yourself with, those puppets whose memories help to placate that emptiness? Even those will eventually no longer be enough. Even HE will no longer be enough, none of them able to understand you. None of them to even want to try.”
His fingers had still been combing over her hair, Lezard having then bent his face over hers to breathe against her cheek. “I am different. I am the one being that exists in all of this creation, who not only understands, but has the free will to choose. I am the only one that can be your equal, your confidant, your port in this storm. I alone can give you what you need, what the others lack, what even HE falls short of.”
Her eyes had been gleaming, that wet sheen having held the tears but also that of a fading defiance. That tired anger hadn’t been capable of blazing any hotter, hers a spirit that had stood on the verge of breaking, the Goddess weary, and made so wholly human in that moment. Vulnerable, that weakness’ fine quiver having run its course through her, Lenneth having been primed for that one final blow that could have shattered apart completely, or have healed that rift between them.
It had been a gamble, but then any mention of that man, always was. Lucian having long held such a strangle hold on the Goddess’ heart, HIS feelings having tried to shape and mold Lenneth’s in turn, the woman, the Goddess having been forced into yet another role, into becoming the living embodiment of a memory long dead. It had been as laughable as it had been infuriating, that man, that boy, trying to shape the Goddess with his own personal desires. It was the utmost in ironic, that Lezard could be accused of doing the same, but with one key difference. The mage, that sinner, that depraved madman, had seen and wanted Lenenth for who she really was, and not who she could have once been.
“I SEE you.” Lezard had breathed out loud. “I see the benevolent Goddess with the heart so capable and willing to love, who had broken free of her fate, the path that been carved out for her. I see the woman who had felt for the world, who had cried out at its loss. I see that noble and proud spirit, the warrior who had and still does fight to the bitter end, and that lonely soul who has tried to content herself with the memories. I see you for YOU, and not the girl, that single incarnation that was one out of so many, that HE would have had you be.”
“Lucian….”
“Yes, Lucian.” He had practically sneered with that name, Lezard absolutely furious. Angry over what that foolish boy had tried to do, and made even madder over what Lenneth had allowed of it. “It’s not YOU that he had loved, it’s that girl, that memory of a life taken too soon.”
“Platina only died when she did because Odin had had need of me!”
“So that then excuses the boy?” Lezard had demanded. “All his misdeeds and sins, every last one, forgiven so that you might play a memory for him? What kind of life would that have been? For you and for him?! IF he had lived, had actually survived the trickster’s treachery, would living that lie with him have made you happy?!”
“I...”
“That you even hesitate tells me enough. It wouldn’t, it couldn’t, no matter which version of Lucian you end with. So then tell me, Lenneth, why!? Why continue to live out this farce with the memory you have made to replace him!? Why Lenneth? When right before you is one just as devoted and ready to be with the TRUE you!”
A slap had then met with his cheek, Lenneth having managed enough force in that blow, to have turned him aside.
“How dare you!” She had seethed out at him.
“That’s right, I DARE!” Lezard had hissed back. “I am the only one who does, the only one who can, full of the truth and all of its unpleasant aspects that you don’t want to acknowledge, let alone hear! It is cold fact that I am armed with, all those niggling little worries and doubts inside you at last given voice! Hate me if you must, but stop surrounding yourself with those lies!”
“I already do hate you!” She had all but shouted in his face, attempting to then push herself free of him. “For each and every thing that you have done and will do, for the one remaining happiness that you try to take from me!” Her wild, spastic struggles had then become violent, Lenneth repeatedly striking at him with both of her hands, attempting to slap her way to freedom. Her voice had then caught on a sob, the futility of what she had been attempting then proven to her by Lezard’s own strength. By the hands holding her down, that heavy weight atop her, Lenneth suddenly on her back.
Even then she had gleamed defiant, the bold blue of her eyes a challenge for Lezard to do his worst. Goddess help them both, but he had considered it, that temptation having betrayed itself in the fine tremor that had shuddered it’s way through him.
There would have been no going back had he truly snapped. Just as there would be no moving forward if he continued to hold himself back. That indecision had warred inside him, the one dominant thought in all of this, that of how much simpler things would have been, if Lenneth would have just agreed to be his.
To Be Continued…