Here are links to all of my stories. It might not look like it yet, but I do write for a whole host of genres and fandoms. I’ll add on as I post more stuff. Fics below the cut.
Fandoms include: True Blood, Blade: Trinity, From Dusk Til Dawn, The Mandalorian, Bright, The Rings of Power, and Narcos (More coming soon!)
Do not run any of my fics through an AI generator of any kind. Do not post my fics on any other site.
Happy Reading!
Title: In the Blood
Pairing: BrasaXF!OC
Summary: Lilah began having strange dreams, then strange visions, followed by strange encounters. The deeper she goes, the more she’s pulled into a world of blood drinkers and gods.
Word Count: ~35,000
Prologue Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve
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Title: Skygazing
Pairing: Cara DuneX F!OC
Summary: Set in the time Cara spends on Sorgan. Veda is the owner of a local bar who just happens to need a little security now and again, and Cara just happens to step in. Veda takes Cara to a local harvest festival that celebrates the transition between Fall and Winter, the giving and taking of the harvest. As they walk through the woods to give an offering to the gods, Veda gives Cara an opening to take a step forward in another way.
Word Count: ~4,200
Read Here
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Title: A Need So Great
Pairing: Horacio CarrilloX F!OC
Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.
Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.
Summary: Rosalind was eight years old when she knew she had a soulmate. At eighteen, she vowed never to find him. To protect her family, Rose makes the decision to tempt fate and she finds that walking away is easier said than done. Kandomere/Bright!FemOC AU
Summary: Marissa Polznik lived what she considered a simple life. She’d been on almost every continent, had seen almost everything the world had to offer—or so she thought. Having agreed to become consort to their king, Marissa must use every ounce of skill and experience to escape this new world of vampires, blood, and death.
Word Count: ~32,000
Fear Cunning Strategy Adaptation Decisions
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Title: The Guarantor
Summary: Frankie went to work every day knowing that there would be an end. A deadline. Reconnecting with her adoptive father, Godric, throws that deadline into question. Teaming up with Godric’s child, Eric, obliterates it entirely. With an uncertain future ahead, Frankie has to learn if she can trust the people around her, let alone herself. Eric Northman/Bisexual!Fem!OC
Summary: Horacio Carrillo was a man of control…until he wasn’t. His carefully regimented life begins to change the second he scents Eva Moore, an unobtrusive omega whose secrets lead the two of them into dangerous territory. Horacio must protect her at all costs while battling a fierce need that threatens to bring him to his knees.
Word Count: ~43,000
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1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
Title: Shadow and Veil
Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.
Summary: Lilah McNamara stole things for a living. It was tedious work and often dangerous, which made it just exciting enough to keep her interested. After botching a routine job, Lilah finds herself standing amid monsters. Wholly unprepared for the horror of living under Amaru’s reign, Lilah decides to use her well honed skills to thwart the queen’s plans and prevent the end of the world.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
I am really struggling with starting my next fic. I planned to continue working with the Rings of Power to tell Mika's part of the story, but I'm finding that my creative energy is veering off on a tangent to another fandom.
In other words, a palate cleanser.
I'm going to sit with this story line for a few days and see if I can flesh it out into something workable. If I can manage to come up with an ending I'll give it a go. Maybe I'll be able to write something under 100,000 words (let's be honest, long fics are kind of my jam).
I have drafted twelve chapters in a week. The next chapter will be the chapter where a big secret is revealed. I've got two major adversaries that present two completely different problems for the main characters. I have a motif that I am peppering through. And, I have a massive, super action packed climax prepared.
Idk if I've gotten better at writing, but I definitely have gotten better at plot crafting. I've never worked this quickly on a piece of fiction. The forward momentum is very exciting.
If I can figure out the next ten chapters and move through them with the same intensity, I should have a viable story to post in ten to twelve weeks. Give me some time to drill down on that deadline and I'll start posting about the fandom and the pairing.
One thing I can definitely tell you, dear reader, is that I am continuing my exploration of dark, morally gray men.
Currently playing a game with myself called 'how many chapters is it going to take before these characters finally kiss?" My record is 31. I sincerely don't think it will take that long for this pairing. The main character is yearning.
Outlined chapters 26-29. From here, I think we reach the mid-point. All the subplots are started and intensifying. The main character is forced to make more and more difficult decisions that are counter to who they think they are as a person.
I think I can make the announcement of the fandom at the end of July. Followed by the pairing reveal and the story summary. First chapter will likely go up in early August.
Be patient with me, readers. I'm working as fast as I can, but I want this story to be on par or better than my other stories.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count:~4,400
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
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Masterlist
Odessa received the invitation through a messenger. She was to join Elenna for a picnic to celebrate her engagement to Lord Tivan. The message was written on a thick vellum in a flowing script that was very...formal. Black ink on ivory paper. The invite lacked all color and personality. It wasn’t even perfumed.
She read it over several times, running a finger along the line indicating that she should arrive at the western gate in the mid-afternoon. The short notice felt intentional, but Odessa was at a loss as to what the intention might be. Elenna hadn’t been seen inside or outside the keep since the arrests in the hollow days before. Not even the maids had any information to share.
Odessa checked the sun. She had enough time to take up a leisurely pace while getting ready. She picked up the bucket by the door and went to the well to get water. Then, she went back to the cabin and started a fire. While she waited for the water to heat, she stripped down and took the wrap from her head. Naked, she methodically washed her hair and body.
She debated wearing a dress. Something with a little more elegance to suit the occasion. The new gown wasn’t finished yet, though she’d received the final order of beads from Brint. It would take another week or two of work before it was wearable. There were, of course, other dresses in her collection, but none held any appeal.
Odessa went to her chest and reached into the endless bag. She pulled free the first thing that met her fingers. Standing, she shook it out and held it up for inspection. Odessa hadn’t seen this coat in years. The vibrant sapphire wool had a hem that fell to her ankles. The front seams split below the waist on both sides to allow for maximum movement. She ran a thumb along the lapel, remembering how difficult it was to stitch the sharp, angular pattern in a matching thread.
She tossed to coat onto her bed so that she could pull on a soft white blouse and black slacks. The boots she wore most days were too informal to match the outfit. She reached under her bed to find a pair that were knee high and made of soft black leather. These, she set aside for later. At her vanity, she applied a soft line of kohl around her eyes.
When she was done, her hand hovered over a strip of black cloth. She stared at her hair in the mirror. The red curls had grown out over the last few months. Instead of brushing against the nape of her neck, they now fell past her shoulders. Odessa rarely let it get so long, but found that she liked the way it looked. She left the cloth where it was and went about wrapping each individual curl around her finger with a little balm to tame the frizz.
When her hair curled around her face in a gleaming halo of deep red, Odessa pushed from the vanity. She put on her coat and boots, then checked her appearance in the mirror.
“This looks nice,” Odessa said to the empty room.
She fluffed her hair one more time and went to the door where she paused. The picnic was outside the city in the plain between the river, the forest, and the mountains. It would be heavily guarded. She didn’t need a weapon. Odessa went and got her dagger, anyways. The sheath wouldn’t fit in her boot. They were too fitted to her calves. She hooked it into the waist band at her side where the thick wool concealed its presence. Feeling as prepared as she could be, she left the cottage and walked to the west gate.
Odessa wanted to say that the party was larger than she expected, but this was Elenna’s event. She also wanted to say that she expected as many guards as there were. Odessa counted twenty of them, all on horseback, all armed. Several of the keep’s staff stood around the group’s perimeter. They were asking for the invitations. Odessa’s invitation was still sitting on her vanity.
She cursed lowly and walked up to the servant. “Good afternoon. I am Odessa. I—.”
“Ah, yes,” the servant interrupted her. “We have instructions to bring you to Lady Elenna as soon as you arrive.”
Odessa shut her mouth. Well, that is fortunate, she thought. Followed by, Why would she do that?
She followed the servant past the line of guards and it was like passing through a physical threshold. The street’s rough edges gave way to lace and tulle and glinting jewels. The further Odessa walked, the more she regretted her choice in clothing. A dress would have been far more appropriate. She hadn’t put on any jewelry. Not even a hairpin.
Odessa forced her chin high while she walked around the overflowing skirts of other women. Elenna stood at the very center with Lord Tivan at her side. She was wearing a dress of deep green that matched the stitching on Lord Tivan’s tunic. She’d continued her habit of eschewing jewelry. Her only adornments were the sparkling emeralds dotting her hair.
Elenna smiled as Odessa approached. “You’re here!”
“I’m here.”
She took Odessa’s hand. “I was not sure you would come.”
Odessa frowned. “Why would I not?”
“Because I,” she said, then paused to look around. “Because of what happened.”
Odessa could not help but to look around with her. There were a lot of people within hearing distance and information would travel at top speed if she wasn’t careful with her words.
“What happened was...unfortunate. I hope you’ve learned from it.”
Elenna very nearly rolled her eyes. “I learned that I underestimated how protective my father is.” She gestured to their left.
Lord Wystrom stood not too far away talking to a bald man with an icy white beard trimmed close to his face. His expression was quietly thoughtful, as if he were deeply considering what the bald man was saying to him.
“A father has a right to be protective over his daughter,” Odessa replied.
“He sent guards after me,” Elenna groused. She touched Lord Tivan’s arm. “He would not even let me see my betrothed for two whole days.”
Lord Tivan’s expression went shy as she pronounced ‘betrothed’. He took a small step closer to Elenna and let her lean a little into his body. They made a sweet image together.
A whistle went up. Elenna grinned at the sound and bounced on her feet. “Everyone is here. Now, we can get going.”
“Going where?”
“Just wait until you see. It took hours to arrange, and that was with his,” she tipped her head to Lord Tivan, “housekeeper’s excellent advice.”
Lord Tivan smiled. “I was happy to lend her services.”
“She and I will be spending much more time together while we plan the wedding.”
“Ah, right,” Odessa breathed. “I forgot to congratulate you on the engagement.”
“Thank you,” Elenna replied primly. “I’m very happy.”
Odessa held a smile on her mouth to keep from asking, Are you? Lord Tivan was clearly content with his young, beautiful bride. He could barely take his eyes off her. Odessa was not quite so sure of Elenna. She looked happy—smiling and preening under the attention of others. It was such a huge change from just a few weeks ago when she’d proclaimed she didn’t like him that Odessa could not stop herself from doubting.
The guards rode through the gate, herding the group slowly through. Odessa walked next Elenna. She could feel the tremors of excitement coming off the woman in waves. It brought a wide grin to Odessa’s mouth that felt like it would last all day.
Settled halfway between the wall and the treeline was a riot of colorful blankets, all weighed down with large vases full of white roses. Servants were standing at the ready, picnic baskets hanging from their arms. As they drew near, Elenna sent Odessa a smile that was all pride.
“I am impressed,” Odessa said, following Elenna to a large blanket at the very end.
“Of course you are,” Elenna replied.
Lord Tivan helped Elenna to sit, saying, “You did very well.”
“Oh, that is so nice of you to say.”
He offered Odessa a hand, kneeling down in time with her to sit next to Elenna. “It is the truth. I see many ladies looking at your work with envy.”
“Who?”
Lord Tivan leaned over and lowered his voice. “Lady Caletta and Lady Violet look positively green with it. Wait. Wait. Only look when they pour your wine.”
Odessa watched Elenna go through the farce of pretending she wasn’t glancing around to find the envious ladies. A sly look here. A careful turn of her head there. It was very amusing—and, it evaporated the second her father set foot on the blanket. He brought with him several lords, one of which was the bald man he was speaking to earlier. Another was Lord Adar.
She watched him sit with curiosity. He looked...different. She was so used to seeing him in monochrome black and gray. The Lord Adar she looked on now was much more vibrant. Everything about him, save for his usual armor, was tinged with color. Even his hair. She always thought it was black, but it wasn’t. It was brown. A very deep brown.
Odessa was still a little bit irritated with him. She wanted to know what he knew about the thing between them. His refusal to share what he knew without getting information in return was understandable. Understandable, but irritating. Odessa could not tell him about the apate and he wasn’t buying her lies. Every time she weighed giving him the truth, she came back to the same conclusion. The mantle was a secret that she could not share.
“I heard,” Lord Wystrom said in her direction, “you more than held up your end of our bargain.”
Odessa accepted a glass of wine from one of the servants. “Did you?”
“I did,” he confirmed. He held her gaze for a few beats, then turned away to talk with the bald man again. “Lord Ertan, how is my gate coming along?”
Odessa blinked at the abrupt dismissal. Her eyes went instinctively to Lord Adar, as if he might be able to offer an explanation. A servant offered him a glass of wine, which he declined. She looked away before he could catch her staring. There was definitely something different about him, above and beyond the color of his hair and skin.
Elenna craned her neck to look around. She gave a subtle nod to the servant standing nearest to her. On cue, the servants started into motion. With long, arcing flourishes, they swung the baskets off their arms. A secondary line of servants walked forward holding round tables with short, stubby legs. They put the tables down so that the array of foods could be laid out.
The fare was not what Odessa expected for a picnic. Seasonal vegetables baked into flat bread drizzled with honey. Crispy potatoes cut very thin and fried in oil sat next to a thick dip of garlic, shallots, spinach and grated cheese. Prawns, sliced carrots, and cabbage wrapped up into rolls that could be easily eaten with hands. Little sandwiches with thickly sliced tomatoes and cheese. There was more laid out on the table than anyone could feasibly eat in one sitting. Odessa made rather educated guess that ostentatious excess was exactly the point.
She sipped her wine, tasting sweet honeysuckle. When a servant neared her, she got their attention and made a request in a low voice. They smiled and nodded before scuttling away.
“So,” Odessa said to Elenna, “have you started thinking about your dress?”
It was an unnecessary question. Elenna was always thinking about what she was going to wear.
“I thought I might ask Rutinia to make it,” she began, “but, after she made Lady Hwin’s dress, I thought otherwise.”
“Why? Rutinia is very skilled.”
“Did you see it?”
Odessa huffed a laugh. “She wouldn’t make you the same dress. She could make you anything you liked.”
“All the same,” Elenna replied, “Lord Tivan’s housekeeper recommended a seamstress. She made his mother’s dress.”
Lord Tivan smiled softly and picked up Elenna’s hand. He pressed a kiss to the back of it. “You will look beautiful no matter who makes your dress.”
Elenna turned a coy shoulder. “Of course. We’ll host it in the southern sanctuary.” She touched Odessa’s arm. “Women wear veils inside. I can have one made for you, if you like.”
“I think I can manage it,” Odessa replied with a chuckle. “But, thank you.”
She followed the trail of a servants moving around the blanket’s edge. He leaned down next to Lord Adar with a goblet in one hand and a pitcher in the other. Lord Adar listened briefly before giving a short nod. Odessa hid her smile behind the rim of her glass.
“Will you have white roses in the sanctuary?” she asked.
Elenna thought about it. “Do you think its a little...overdone?”
“White roses?”
“Yes. Every bride has white roses.”
“Well,” Odessa drawled, “not every bride.”
Elenna’s expression brightened with humor. “Some brides choose...more vibrant colors.”
“Vibrant colors can be tasteful.”
“Or gauche.”
“Or gauche,” Odessa echoed.
Elenna sighed. She observed the blankets around them with both a critical eye and wistful appreciation. “This wedding will be remembered for years. Decades, even. And, not for being gauche.”
Odessa fully believed her.
When Elenna judged that everyone had their fill, she waved for the servants. They cleared it away with the same dancing flourishes as they put it out. Lord Tivan helped Elenna to stand and she gleefully announced that games had been set up between the blankets and the treeline. The large painted rectangle was dotted with brightly colored wooden balls.
Elenna started the game off by using a long handled mallet to knock one of the balls across the rectangle. She smiled to acknowledge the polite round of applause before handing the mallet off the Lord Tivan. Odessa turned down his offer to join the game, indicating with her glass that she was out of wine. He nodded and gave the mallet to Lord Wystrom so that he could take his shot.
Odessa lingered near the servants, watching the game with interest. She’d seen a similar game played in Rohan during a long, hot summer that felt like it would never end. Odessa left Rohan before the winter came that year. She walked through the cold months and eventually found herself wandering through a meadow of blooming flowers. The beauty drew her to Lossarnach as much as the contentment deeply embedded in its citizens.
While she pondered the difference between the two realms, Odessa lazily let her senses flow outwards. As Elenna planned, people were enjoying themselves. They were, at turns, relaxed and amused. Odessa waited until Elenna scored a point before taking a breath and carefully stoking the low, pleasant buzz. It bloomed into applause and cheers while Elenna curtsied primly.
Good deed done, Odessa scanned the crowd and found Lord Adar watching from across the playing field. His dark armor stood out among the vividly clothed people around him. As did his inner light. She focused on it, noting that there were less shadows swirling within. The light was brighter and stronger. It reached upwards with more force.
Odessa remembered what it felt like to be pressed against him. To feel the power he held inside pulling at her own. She remembered listening to his breaths and the pounding of his heart under her palm.
A shadow. It walked at the very edges of her vision, tearing the realm’s threads on the way. Odessa saw it for what it was—an apate parading around in human form. A walking dead thing. She let her senses drop so that she could see the physical world again. Her eyes narrowed in on the tall, bald man with the white beard. Lord Ertan. Only, it wasn’t Lord Ertan. Not anymore.
There were too many people around to attack. Likely, one of the guards would apprehend her within seconds. Odessa couldn’t kill the apate while sitting in a jail cell. She had to stand there and watch it talk amiably with others like it wasn’t the living embodiment of evil.
“You look angry.”
Odessa jumped and let out a sharp gasp, much to Lord Adar’s amusement. She gave him a glare and said, “I am angry.”
His head tipped to the side, hair spilling over his shoulder. “Why?”
She couldn’t tell him what she’d seen. So, she sidestepped and answered, “Maybe its because you refuse to tell me what I want to know.”
His mouth quirked. “It is not refusal. It is caution.”
“Caution?” she blurted, incensed. “Really?”
Lord Adar turned to face her. “Yes. Caution.”
“What do you have to be cautious about? I’m no danger to you.”
He leaned down to speak directly into her ear. “I disagree.”
His voice carried more than its usual rasp. The challenge he presented mixed with the warmth of his breath and the intensity in his eyes when he pulled back to look at her. A heady feeling surged forward, riding on a wave of electric static. Odessa’s mouth opened, but she couldn’t form words.
A cry went up. Someone screamed. Lord Adar straightened and turned to look behind him. Odessa angled around his body. Her eyes went wide. Wargs. Three of them were standing at the treeline. She could hear their growling, could see steam rising from their mouths.
“Figlio de puttana,” she breathed.
People started running for the wall. It was too far. The wargs would be on them before they could make it. They would kill without thought, without mercy. Another cry came, this one she knew. E
Her feet were moving before her brain caught up. Instinct telling her to get Elenna to safety, then see to the others. She sprinted up to Elenna and ducked down to haul her up and over her shoulder. Then, she made for the nearest guard. With a single, forceful heave, Odessa threw Elenna over the guard’s lap.
“Go!”
The guard needed no further prompting. He took off with Elenna’s feet kicking through yards of green fabric. Odessa made sure the horse got some distance before she turned to look for the wargs. To her disbelief, they hadn’t yet advanced. Hadn’t even taken a step forward.
Odessa was not going to question her good fortune. She burst into action, searching for and finding a green embroidered tunic in the mass of people.
“Lord Tivan,” she screamed to get his attention.
He turned, “Odessa. Where is Elenna?”
“She’s safe. You need to run. Get on a horse and run!”
He shook his head. “I have to protect these people.”
“You have to live for these people,” Odessa bit out. She didn’t know if he could fight, and she didn’t care. The man didn’t even have a sword.“Elenna needs you.”
She grabbed his tunic and dragged him to the nearest guard. Lord Tivan’s protests were lost on her. She signaled the guard and waited until Lord Tivan was safely on the horse before checking on the wargs again. One was walking forward out of the treeline. Head down. Teeth bared. Their time was up.
A row of several guards stood with swords at the ready. Lord Wystrom sat astride a horse among them. The guard he took the horse from was by his side, watching the wargs. There were several other lords standing around him. Their elegantly tailored tunics and jackets were incongruous with the danger they faced. Odessa found Lord Adar standing just behind the men. His stance was eerily relaxed.
She walked up to his side. “I bet you wish you’d worn your sword.”
He kept his eyes on the wargs and tilted his head at her. “At least I have a knife. You are unarmed.”
She unbuttoned her jacket and reached for her weapon. “No, I’m not.”
“This is not a group of smugglers,” Lord Adar replied as he eyed her dagger. “These are wargs. They are dangerous.”
Odessa glared at him. “Do I look scared?”
His eyes gave her a once over. “No.”
“Then,” she said, “I think you should consider what I do and do not think is dangerous.”
Odessa hadn’t meant to echo their earlier conversation, but she wasn’t going to think too hard about it. Not when the wargs’ growls were growing louder.
“At arms!” Lord Wystrom yelled.
Steel rang through the air.
“Form ranks!”
Hooves clapped against the dirt. The guards moved to the front, circling around to form the first line of defense. Odessa stepped back and let them move. She might not be afraid, but she wasn’t stupid. Her best chance of survival might hinge on how many men stood between her and the raging animal.
There was no clear signal, nothing to tell her fight had begun. Just dirt kicked up in her face and a howl that made her ears ring. She fell into a defensive crouch, watching the horses spread out. The wargs were fast. So fast that she missed how they flanked the guards until a horse squealed as it was thrown into the air. It flipped, head over hooves, its rider flying away.
The horse landed on its side and was then trampled to death by the warg. Its distraction was enough time for one of the guards to sink a sword deep into its thick hide. Another guard followed suit. The warg screamed and hissed and kicked as blood poured from its body.
Satisfied that this warg was taken care of, Odessa looked for the other two. One was being circled by several guard and Lord Wystrom. The other...broke through the ranks and was stampeding through a pair of men who had no hope of getting out of the way. It lowered its head and rammed one man hard. Odessa could hear the snap of his sternum from where she stood.
The man had enough forethought to push a dagger into the warg’s eye on his way to death. It cried out and shook the blade free. Then, it took several seconds to look around with its remaining good eye. Several seconds was enough time for Odessa to snatch up the discarded dagger and rush forward.
The warg could not be allowed to get any closer to the city. Not when people were still running for their lives. Drawing on the earth’s power was more difficult when she wasn’t in direct contact. Difficult, but not impossible. Odessa leaned weight into her legs and leapt, pulling power into the jump so that the peak was well above the warg’s back. She came down with the lord’s dagger aimed at its spine.
Even half blind, the warg saw her coming. It skipped a few steps to the right, moving her target out of reach. Odessa shifted her grip on the dagger, feeling the drag of hair and muscle as she dug it into the warg’s side. The cut wasn’t as deep as she would have liked, but it did begin to bleed freely.
She landed in a backwards roll to get out from under the warg’s feet. When she straightened to standing, Odessa found herself staring into the face of a very wounded, very angry beast. It stamped the dirt, growling low. The blood dripping from its side was already starting to slow. Saliva dripped from bared teeth. A single eye focused solely on her. Odessa widened her stance, facing the warg down in challenge.
It charged. Dust and dirt and grass flew up. The sun glinted off razor sharp tusks. Odessa could smell the stink of its body. She was no match for its strength, but she was small. And agile. She hefted both daggers and planned her attack. It was a risk. A terrible risk. If she was successful, the warg would fall.
The sounds of the fight softened. Her breathing slowed. She felt the earth bend around her body, rushing to assist her in excising this evil. With its support, Odessa took two steps forward to meet the warg’s approach. She dropped down into a slide, taking more than her body weight’s momentum with her. Odessa moved between the warg’s feet with her head down and her blade up.
She exited the other side and swung around to observe her work. The warg was still halfway through the motion of running. The feet carrying it forward slowed. Stumbled. Odessa grinned as its belly opened up and its entrails began to squeeze out. Small at first. Blood and mucus. Then, a gush of intestines and assorted viscera that plopped beneath. Odessa stood and looked at the lord’s blade. It was soaked with dripping red.
The third warg roared. She turned to find the plain littered with dead horses and riders. Some of which were nothing but snapped bone and muscle. Beyond, Lord Wystrom’s horse was circling the warg. Swords stabbed from above. From below. From beside. The beast would take no more men today.
Nearby, Lord Adar watched with an inscrutable expression. There was blood coating the side of his face and the front of his armor. He held his dagger loosely at his side. All relaxation and calm. The wind rustled his hair, brushing it away from his pointed ears. He looked tall. Regal. Foreboding.
Something in the trees moved. Odessa flinched, alert for more wargs waiting their turn. She focused on the forest, spotting the shadow moving in the branches. A stone dropped into her stomach. This was no warg.
The apate was watching its minions with barely concealed glee. Odessa could see its mouth spreading out to reveal sharp teeth. The body of smoke hovered just far enough back that it could be dismissed, but Odessa was not fooled. She was, however, angry and filled with the rage that came with a good, hard fight.
Odessa sprinted to the trees. She went right past the guards killing the warg. Past Lord Adar, who called after her. She ignored all of it, along with the very small voice that was warning her about a trap.
I am really struggling with starting my next fic. I planned to continue working with the Rings of Power to tell Mika's part of the story, but I'm finding that my creative energy is veering off on a tangent to another fandom.
In other words, a palate cleanser.
I'm going to sit with this story line for a few days and see if I can flesh it out into something workable. If I can manage to come up with an ending I'll give it a go. Maybe I'll be able to write something under 100,000 words (let's be honest, long fics are kind of my jam).
I have drafted twelve chapters in a week. The next chapter will be the chapter where a big secret is revealed. I've got two major adversaries that present two completely different problems for the main characters. I have a motif that I am peppering through. And, I have a massive, super action packed climax prepared.
Idk if I've gotten better at writing, but I definitely have gotten better at plot crafting. I've never worked this quickly on a piece of fiction. The forward momentum is very exciting.
If I can figure out the next ten chapters and move through them with the same intensity, I should have a viable story to post in ten to twelve weeks. Give me some time to drill down on that deadline and I'll start posting about the fandom and the pairing.
One thing I can definitely tell you, dear reader, is that I am continuing my exploration of dark, morally gray men.
Currently playing a game with myself called 'how many chapters is it going to take before these characters finally kiss?" My record is 31. I sincerely don't think it will take that long for this pairing. The main character is yearning.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count: ~4,200
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
Read on AO3 Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Masterlist
“It is a star in the east,” Odessa said as she handed over the coins. She shared a wry look with the woman selling pastries before letting the next person in line through.
She opened the wax paper packet and took a bite. The blackberries were especially sweet this summer. Odessa licked flakes of pastry from her lips and checked the sun. She was supposed to meet Rutinia at sunset so that they could walk together to the hollow.
While she walked, Odessa listened. People still talked about how Berman’s champion broke his lance in the joust and how Gerogin defeated the warg. There was less talk about the two men who died in the ring with him. Odessa avoided conversation about the feast. The wedding, too. After one of Ridder’s crew stopped her in the street to ask how Elenna was doing, other people avoided talking to her about it, too. Odessa felt bad for how angry she was when she responded, but she could not stop the harsh words from pouring out of her once they started.
Odessa reached Rutinia’s shop having just finished the pastry. She tossed the crumpled paper in a bin and wiped the crumbs from her face and hands. Then, she stepped inside. The scent of lavender reached her, followed by the sight of a rack with six freshly stocked dresses. Odessa took a moment to glance over them, tempted to run her fingers over the elegant silk. She pushed her hands into her pockets. They were a bit sticky with blackberry juice and she would hate to ruin the gowns.
“Odessa!” Rutinia greeted as she swung around the corner. She was wearing a violet dress that fluttered around her ankles. It was nicer than the ones she usually wore to the shop. On her wrist was a braided strip of leather.
“Ready?” Odessa asked. She pointed at the window. “Sun’s almost down.”
Rutinia peered through the glass. “Its later than I thought. I took too long getting ready.”
Odessa smirked at her. “Getting ready for someone special?”
Rutinia busied herself with wrapping a matching shawl around her shoulders. It wasn’t strictly necessary. The weather was mild. The length of fabric did, however, accentuate Rutinia’s decolletage. She tied a loose knot, then looked at Odessa expectantly. Resigned to not getting an answer, Odessa walked out of the shop and waited for Rutinia to pick up a lantern and lock the door behind them. They linked their arms and began the walk to the wall.
Near the halfway mark, Elenna came sauntering across their path. Odessa almost didn’t recognize her. She was wearing a simple linen dress and her hair was braided down her back. There were no earrings, no necklaces, no bracelets tinkling when she moved her arms. To any stranger, she looked exactly like a handmaiden.
“Elenna,” Odessa blurted, “what are you doing here?”
Elenna drew herself up and gave Odessa an imperious look. “I’m going to the hollow.”
Odessa blinked. “Why?”
“Because I want to.”
She looked around. “Where is your escort?”
Elenna scoffed. “I do not always need an escort.”
“You do if you’re going to leave the city.”
“I can take care of myself.”
The words, no you can’t, were on the tip of Odessa’s tongue. She didn’t get to say them. Elenna’s eyes flicked to the side and she let out a happy gasp.
“Lord Adar!”
Odessa spun around to find him walking along the street. She hadn’t seen him in the days after the feast, though he occupied a significant number of her thoughts. Most of those thoughts worked through all kinds of explanations about their intense connection. She considered that he might be like her. A foreigner brought here for some purpose or other. She also considered that he might be in league with the apate. Odessa had not forgotten the shadows within him. As she looked at him now, Odessa knew that this could not be true. No one aligned with the apate could have a soul that reached to the heavens.
For one disappointing hour, Odessa thought it might be a spell. The connection between them didn’t feel like anything she could associate with magic. It felt...natural. Like the first stretch after waking in the morning.
Elenna bounced on her feet, a grin spreading too wide across her mouth. “Coming to see my father again?”
“No, I—.” He glanced at Odessa.
“Some other plans, then?” Elenna cut in.
Lord Adar paused, unsure. “...no.”
“Excellent. You will escort us to the hollow tonight.”
“Elenna,” Odessa warned.
Ignoring her, Elenna took Rutinia’s arm and looked at Lord Adar with raised brows. “Odessa is concerned about my safety. You will be our escort for the night.”
“Its not your safety I’m concerned about,” Odessa drawled.
Elenna might be dressed simply, but someone was bound to recognize her. Especially with the showing in Lord Ciricen’s box. If word got back to Lord Tivan that she was carousing without an escort, it might put the prospect of their marriage in jeopardy. Elenna was too well versed in courtly customs to overlook the dangerous line she was walking.
Lord Adar looked adorably confused. He caught and held Odessa’s eyes, silently asking for help. As irritated as Odessa was with Elenna, seeing Adar so off balance was intriguing. She very much wanted to find out how he was going to handle himself.
“The sun is down,” Elenna said. “Shall we go?”
There was a moment of silent consideration where Lord Adar, Odessa, and Rutinia looked to each other for an answer to Elenna’s question. Then, another moment where all three resigned themselves to doing as she asked.
“Tell me,” Elenna said as they took the path along the wall. “Are you enjoying your stay in my city?”
“I am,” Lord Adar replied.
“What have you enjoyed the most?”
“Your gardens are beautiful.”
Elenna laughed softly, as if she’d been expecting just that answer. “Of course they are. We must live up to our reputation as the Vale of Flowers.”
He nodded politely. “Then, you have exceeded the reputation that precedes you.”
Elenna preened. “I will pass your words along to our head gardener.”
The path thinned and Odessa walked ahead with Rutinia. She tried not to think about the eyes that might watching her from behind.
“Do you think Quentin will have a new song?” she asked.
Rutinia rolled her eyes. “When does he not have a new song?”
“Only when he’s courting a new woman.”
“I heard he’s back together with the tea house girl. What was her name? I can never remember.”
“Tula?”
“No, she’s a washerwoman.” Rutinia’s brow furrowed in thought. “Oh, I am so bad with names.”
Odessa reached for the door in the wall and held it open for Rutinia, then for Elenna. She gestured for Lord Adar to walk through, earning a flat look. Odessa gestured again. Lord Adar sighed, reached forward, put a hand between her shoulder blades, and pushed her through the doorway. Odessa went where he directed, though she tossed him a grin on the way.
Elenna grew quiet as they approached the hollow. Odessa watched her expression shift in the lantern light from calm confidence to quiet anxiety. Unlike her parties, Elenna was unlikely to know very many people in the hollow where the social rules she followed every day of her life were relaxed to the point that they were almost nonexistent. Not even her title would mean much of anything.
In most cases, Odessa might feel compelled to help Elenna. Introduce her. Walk her through what to expect. She was not inclined to do so at the moment. If Elenna wanted to go to the hollow, she could do it on her own. Odessa would keep watch for any real danger, but she wasn’t going to act as a chaperon. Not tonight.
The fire was blazing, shadows passed before it and stretch up into the trees. Odessa followed Rutinia and Elenna to a large, low stone that sat just outside the ring of light. She settled in, still watching Elenna. Her face looked childlike in the firelight. She took in the carefully arranged logs and stones for seating, the stack of firewood gathered habitually by the first to arrive, and the myriad of people talking with an interest that she could not hide.
Near the fire, Quentin sat tuning his instrument. Odessa swatted at Rutinia and jerked her head towards him. They shared an amused look that ended with giggles.
Elenna glanced between them. “What? What did I miss?”
Rutinia had more mercy than Odessa. She pitched her voice low and said, “That’s Quentin. He likes to play for us.”
“And, that is funny?”
“Its kind of a recurring joke to find out which songs he’ll sing. Loves songs if he’s courting, sad songs if he’s not.”
“Oh.” Elenna frowned. “Are all his songs about love?”
“Yes. Every one. I’ve been telling some friends that they need to bring their lutes and harps here for years. I don’t know how Quentin manages to convince them not to.”
“He pays them,” Odessa joked.
Rutinia hid a grin behind her hand. “He must. Although I don’t know how he affords it.”
Another group of people arrived. Russ was among them. Odessa caught Rutinia adjusting her shawl while pointedly not looking in the man’s direction. She pretended not to notice and shifted her attention to Lord Adar. He sat at her side, one knee drawn up with his arm resting atop it. His gaze swept over the hollow with interest.
Clouds covered the night sky, blotting out the stars between the tree branches. A cool wind blew from the south, stoking the fire at the hollow’s center. It ruffled Lord Adar’s hair, bringing along the scent of rain.
Russ approached. He held out an open wine bottle to Rutinia. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
Rutinia took the bottle and drank from it. “It was a last minute decision.”
Odessa lifted a brow at her. It was not a last minute decision. She’d known that they were coming to the hollow since hearing the passphrase a few days before.
“Can I sit?”
Rutinia smiled. “Please do.”
“Who is your friend?”
“I’m Elenna.”
“Nice to meet you,” Russ said. He eyed Elenna for a moment too long. Russ hadn’t been at the games, but Odessa thought she saw a spark of recognition in his eyes.
The music started. Quentin began to sing about hearts finding hearts on an endless sea. He was definitely courting again.
“I thought you might be out hunting,” Odessa murmured.
Lord Adar turned his pointed ear towards her. “It seemed prudent to wait a few days.”
“Its been more than a few days.”
“I had other things to take care of.”
“What other things?”
He sent her a look touched with annoyance. “You are full of questions tonight.”
“Says the Uruk who still hasn’t answered my last question.”
One side of his mouth picked up and he silently conceded the point. “I was making preparations for my children.”
Odessa considered pressing her point. She set it aside and said, “You decided where you will live.”
“Yes. There are things that must be done before we can settle on the land.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Dangerous things.” He looked up at the trees. “Things that I wish were not necessary.”
Odessa peered at him in confusion. She opened her mouth to ask another question when a shout went up on the other side of the hollow. A man came rushing into the firelight. He was breathless and sweating.
“Guards!” he rasped loudly. “Its a raid!”
A raid? Here? Odessa thought wildly. Why would…
Her thoughts stopped and she turned slowly to the young woman at her side. Elenna was looking around with fear. Her mouth was open and her hand was pressed to her chest.
Of course there’s a raid. She didn’t tell anyone where she was going.
People started running. A few kicked dirt into the fire to snuff the light. Lanterns swung in outstretched arms. There was a lot of yelling as the hollow descended into darkness. Russ pulled Rutinia to standing. He ushered her to his friends, clearly intending to leave as a group. A body broke through. A guard. He yelled orders, telling everyone to get on the ground. Not a single person obeyed.
Odessa jumped up and grabbed Elenna’s hand. She dragged her around the stone, intending to take off into the forest. The guards were two steps ahead of her. They appeared from the darkness, having surrounded the hollow. Odessa jerked back, nearly stumbling over her own feet. Elenna reacted much slower. Her forward momentum took her directly into the arms of a guard.
Elenna squealed and kicked out her legs. One of her feet caught Odessa in the chest, knocking her back a step. She righted her body and lunged forward to grab for Elenna. Their combined efforts loosened the guard’s hold so that Elenna slid down and out of his arms. She kicked the guard in the shin hard, then gave him an enormous shove. He went down in a heap of armor and flailing limbs. Elenna turned and shot Odessa the widest, proudest grin.
If there was just one or two guards, Elenna might have been able to celebrate her victory. Unfortunately, there were a lot more than one or two guards. They moved through the crowd, grabbing people and putting them on their knees. One of them recognized Elenna and pointed at her with a shout. Elenna blew a raspberry at him and turned to run. The childish display cost her. A bigger, stronger guard snatched her up and threw her over his shoulder.
Odessa went to free Elenna a second time only to be tackled to the ground. She landed with an unfeminine ‘oomph’. The guard tried to use his greater weight against her, pinning her legs. Odessa jammed her arm into his shoulder, pushing him away. Then, she used the other hand to hit him in the nose with the heel of her palm. The guard cried out, but she didn’t feel his nose break. Disappointed, Odessa reared back to try again.
He punched her in the side, hitting just right to knock all the breath out of her. Odessa would have doubled over if she wasn’t being held down. His fist lifted again, aiming for her face. Odessa got a forearm up to block a hit that never came.
A pale hand grabbed the guard’s wrist and yanked. His whole body lifted into the air and went sailing, armor and all. He landed in the fire’s embers, sending sparks everywhere. Odessa stared after him with her mouth open in shock. Then, she looked up to find Lord Adar reaching to help her up.
She took his hand. “Elenna.”
“She will be fine,” he said. “We need to go if you do not want to spend a night in the city jail.”
Odessa barely had time to hear him before they were rushing out of the hollow. She didn’t know how they avoided the guards. Perhaps they were too busy arresting the others. The reason didn’t matter. What mattered was that she and Lord Adar broke through the line and ran into the darkness.
Without the benefit of a lantern or moonlight, Odessa could barely see where she was going. The further they ran, the harder it was to tell where the path lay. Lord Adar veered to the left, pulling her around what felt like a rather large stone.
“I can’t see anything,” she whispered raggedly.
“I can,” he replied. “The guards are spreading out. Looking for the ones who got away.”
“Merda!” She peered around the stone. Torches flashed between the trees, moving out from the hollow. “What do we do?”
“We’ll have to make for the southern gate.”
“The s—,” Odessa cut herself off and started again. “That gate has never been open.”
Lord Adar’s head turned and she thought she saw a ghost of a smile. “I did not say we would go through it.” Then, more urgently, “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
He took her hand and they started running again. Odessa had to trust him to lead her through the shadows. The rush away from the hollow disoriented her and she had no idea if they were actually going south. She could throw out her senses to find out, but she was already running nearly blind. Looking for the orientation of the threads would obscure what little she could see and she was likely to run face first into a tree.
Her foot landed on uneven ground, turning her ankle. Odessa cried out and skid across the dirt on her knees. She slapped a hand to her mouth and looked up at Lord Adar with wide eyes. He was crouched low, listening. A shout went up, something that sounded like ‘over there’. Odessa winced and got to her feet. More shouts joined the first. She whipped around to find several torches moving in their direction.
Lord Adar hissed a low breath and guided her away. He took a knee and pulled her with a firm grip to kneel with him. “Down. Down.”
Odessa went without question, sliding along a shallow dip where she found a hollow, fallen log. She shimmied inside until she was pressed against the side. Lord Adar pushed forward, his arms arranging her to lay over his chest. Their legs tangled together and their breaths felt loud in the enclosed space. Beneath her hand, she could feel his heart beating even through the leather chest plate.
The voices got louder. Odessa squeezed her eyes shut and tucked her head into his neck. His arm’s tightened in response. She stopped breathing when a footstep fell a little too close. Several guards stomped by, bringing torchlight with them. Odessa held very still while she watched the flickering glow move from one end of the log to the other.
When the voices faded and the light was gone, she lifted her head and tried to peek around the curved bark of the log. A hand slipped around her neck and tugged her down again. Lord Adar turned and pushed her into rough bark. His body curled around her, pressing them tightly together.
Odessa was surrounded by him. There was no light to see, leaving her other senses to rush forward. His scent rose up above the smell of humid earth. Salt and ash and a day made too hot by a blazing sun. Their skin was not touching, but that didn’t seem to matter when they were this close. Through his ever present armor, he was radiating warmth.
She could feel something inside her grasping at him. Odessa inhaled sharply when the connection flared to life. It unfurled with slow intensity, sending a frisson of pleasure all over. Odessa’s shiver had nothing to do with the cool bark at her back.
The air around them began to vibrate in reaction. It produced a soft, buzzing sound that was audible above the excited beat of her heart. She couldn’t find it in herself to worry much about how they might be given away. Not when she could hear his breathing hitch and tremble. Not when his hands tightened further around her body.
Too late and too soon, Lord Adar loosened his hold. With stilted, ungraceful movements, he pulled back and rolled out of the log. Odessa, somewhat dazed, scooted out after him. She stood on unsteady feet and brushed the debris from her clothes. The woods were nearly silent, save for the chirp of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the wind.
“I think they’re gone,” Odessa said lowly.
Lord Adar stood for a moment, listening. Eventually, he nodded. He began to walk in what she assumed was a southerly direction. Odessa picked her way through the brush feeling very confused. Clearly, something was going on. Clearly, he felt it the same as she did. Clearly, he wasn’t going to talk about it.
The longer they walked, the more Odessa’s quiet confusion began to shift into irritation. The weather seemed to agree with her. Distant rumbles rolled from above. Flashes of lightning lit up the world, giving her brief glimpses of where they were going. The wall was much closer than she anticipated, as was the forest’s edge. A raindrop splattered on her forehead as they cleared the treeline. Three steps more and the rain began to fall steadily.
The southern gate was, as she said, closed. She walked beside Lord Adar and tossed him a sarcastic look. “What now?”
“Many years ago, there was a tributary of the Anduin that ran this way.” He touched his fingers to the wall. “The keep was built on its shoreline.”
Odessa wiped rain from her eyes. “And?”
Lord Adar stopped walking to the left of the gate. At his feet was a stone that stood to his knee. He put a foot on it and kicked. The stone slid away with a loud, grating sound. Odessa leaned down to find a hole that went through to the other side of the wall.
“Lord Wystrom’s ancestor used the tributary to feed a well. It has since dried up.”
“How did you know about this?”
In a flash of lightning, she caught a smirk on his mouth. “This is not my first visit to the region.”
“Ah,” she murmured.
Odessa dropped to her belly and crawled through the hole. She reached the other side and peered around to look for guards before climbing out. Thunder rolled across the horizon, bringing a harder driving ran. She held out her hands to rinse them of the grass and dirt while she waited for Lord Adar to cross the wall. He appeared looking far too put together for someone soaked through with rain.
She waited until he got his feet under him before turning to walk along the back of a building. Odessa had a fairly good idea of where they were and how to get back to her cottage. That fairly good idea became certainty as they cleared the corner and she saw the sign for The Black Stirrup.
The streets were empty, save for a the errant person rushing from one place to another to avoid the rain. Odessa could feel water seeping down into her boots, and didn’t bother to rush. She walked at a steady pace with Lord Adar at her side.
“Do you think,” she began, “everyone was arrested?”
Lord Adar swept a lock of wet hair from his cheek. “I expect they were.”
“I don’t understand. First, Maylen’s. Now, the hollow. What good does it do to arrest people for enjoying themselves?”
He sighed audibly. “I doubt that is what happened.”
Odessa cut him a look. “What happened, then?”
“I suspect,” he replied, “that is has to do with the wargs.”
“I thought you were dealing with them.”
“I am. But, I am only one person. There were many roaming the forests.”
“Were?”
His eyes went alight with pride. “There are fewer now.”
Odessa rounded a bend and took the road up to her cottage. The trees on either side thinned out the rain. “Fewer wargs means a curfew? Arrests? And, why arrest the people at Maylen’s, if its the wargs?”
He considered her words. “You have a point.”
“Of course I do,” she shot back before she could catch the words. Odessa passed a hand over her face to calm herself. “My apologies. I’m...tired.”
Lord Adar hummed. “I take no offense.”
The wind picked up, blowing through Odessa’s clothes to walk icily over her skin. She wrapped her arms around her middle and ducked her head down towards her collar. Usually, she didn’t light a fire at this time of year, but Odessa was definitely going to make one as soon as she got back to her cottage.
In what felt like one last insult to her evening, the rain began to fall even harder as soon as her cottage came into sight. She almost ran through her yard, pushing open her door and rushing breathlessly inside. Dripping water everywhere, she found the matches on her mantle and lit a pair of candles.
Odessa turned around in time to see Lord Adar close the door against the rain. He ran a hand over his face and up into his hair, slicking it back. She felt her breath catch in her throat. They were closer—so much closer—in the forest. Standing behind closed doors with him with only the candles to light the room felt much more intimate.
“Let me get you a towel,” she rasped, moving to the chest at the end of her bed. It took two tries to get it open. Why was she suddenly so nervous?
“You are kind,” he replied, “but I cannot stay.”
Odessa straightened and peered at him, towel in hand. Her earlier irritation returned and she remembered why she was irritated. She tossed the towel down and walked up to him.
With her arms crossed she asked, “Will you tell me what’s going on?”
His expression softened. Then, he reached up and touched a fingertip to her cheekbone. “Will you tell me how you were injured?”
Odessa’s jaw locked against the inclination to explain.
Lord Adar’s hand dropped and he stepped back. With one last looked at her, he opened the door and walked out.
Odessa let out a long, hissing breath. “Why is he...so irritating?”
Her eyes lifted to the ceiling. There were no answers for her there.
I am really struggling with starting my next fic. I planned to continue working with the Rings of Power to tell Mika's part of the story, but I'm finding that my creative energy is veering off on a tangent to another fandom.
In other words, a palate cleanser.
I'm going to sit with this story line for a few days and see if I can flesh it out into something workable. If I can manage to come up with an ending I'll give it a go. Maybe I'll be able to write something under 100,000 words (let's be honest, long fics are kind of my jam).
I have drafted twelve chapters in a week. The next chapter will be the chapter where a big secret is revealed. I've got two major adversaries that present two completely different problems for the main characters. I have a motif that I am peppering through. And, I have a massive, super action packed climax prepared.
Idk if I've gotten better at writing, but I definitely have gotten better at plot crafting. I've never worked this quickly on a piece of fiction. The forward momentum is very exciting.
If I can figure out the next ten chapters and move through them with the same intensity, I should have a viable story to post in ten to twelve weeks. Give me some time to drill down on that deadline and I'll start posting about the fandom and the pairing.
One thing I can definitely tell you, dear reader, is that I am continuing my exploration of dark, morally gray men.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count: ~3,100
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
Read on AO3 Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Masterlist
For once, Odessa was glad for the Lossarnach tendency towards covering the body with yards of fabric. The gauzy gray tulle she wore was layered over and over again, pinned and pleated and draped all along her torso and arms so that all the bruising from her fight with the apate was disguised. It wasn’t her dress. She couldn’t convince Elenna that she had a dress formal enough to be presentable at the feast. The frock had come from a selection of Elenna’s gowns from years past. As did the slippers. The gown fit her through the waist, but the hem was too long. Odessa had to gather the skirt in her hands in order to walk. Elenna also forbade her from wrapping her hair. The red curls were gathered up with a series of silver pins placed ever so carefully by Elenna’s maid.
Elenna, herself, was also wearing a dress in the Lossarnach style. She left her hair down, adding a simple comb of sapphires for the occasion. The gems matched the dress. A deep, dark blue that was dotted with white gems. She became a reflection of the night sky above whenever she so much as breathed.
Odessa stood behind Elenna, staring at her back. She looked poised and regal at the top of the stairs. There was no indication that she’d cried into Odessa’s shoulder hours before. Only the maids and Odessa would know how frightened Elenna was to see Vervan and Yeri die so gruesomely.
Lord Tivan arrived, escorted by a servant. He found Elenna where she stood. Brown eyes telegraphed every thought. Odessa had seen the way people revered their gods, even in death. To Lord Tivan, Elenna was the goddess that he had the privilege of worshiping. Odessa turned her head to hide the grin pulling irresistibly across her mouth. Something changed between the two of them. Something good, she thought.
Elenna descended the staircase with ease. Odessa followed with less ease. Not that Lord Tivan noticed. He was too focused on ensuring Elenna reached the bottom safely so that he could offer her his arm.
“You look wonderful,” he murmured.
“Thank you. I thought to match your tunic.”
He looked down. “I am glad I did not change, then.”
Elenna smiled. “Shall we go?”
Odessa held her skirts up to follow at a distance. For as light as the tulle was, it felt heavy dragging behind her. Add to it the ache still present from her injuries and she was sure she looked like a newborn calf trying to take their first steps. She could practically hear her mother tsking in disappointment.
The feast waited for them in a large tent outside the arena. Lord Tivan ordered a carriage for the occasion. Odessa gratefully allowed one of the guards to help her into the carriage where she sat opposite Lord Tivan and Elenna. The benefit of being the night’s chaperon. Odessa was glad for it. She would not be able to make the long walk from the keep to the feast.
As she settled into place, she was reminded why she often eschewed the fashion of the city. The space between the two opposing seats was filled with mounds of blue and gray. So much so that she had to crane her head upwards just to see Elenna’s face. Their eyes met on either end of the mound before both broke out in giggles.
The carriage rocked back and forth past the gardens, into the open market, and past the stable. Odessa watched the wall rise up. Beyond, the gates were open to reveal a massive tent. All the vendors and stalls were cleared away. Torches lit up the tent’s perimeter, reflecting off carefully placed mirrors inside. A line of carriages went one by one, people dropping out of them with the help of servants dressed in stark white. The driver pulled the carriage to the back of the line, moving forward at sporadic intervals.
Elenna peered through the open window with interest. “They certainly put all of this into place quickly.”
“Money will buy expedience,” Lord Tivan replied.
“Expedience,” Elenna replied, “but not taste.”
“I think,” Lord Tivan said with a wry turn of his mouth, “I will trust your judgment on that.”
“As you should.”
The carriage pulled up to the front and Lord Tivan got out. He helped Odessa down, then reached out to take Odessa’s hand. She looked at him briefly in surprise before allowing him to help her. He waited until she’d arranged her skirts before stepping forward and giving Elenna his arm. Odessa followed at a respectable distance.
In her years and years walking this realm, Odessa learned not to draw conclusions too soon. What was strange and unusual to one person might be an integral part of daily life to another. Odessa’s own home was full of color and flavor and vivacity. That being said, the miniature world constructed inside the tent was...a series of choices that Odessa might not ever make.
The tables formed a large circle. Fifty place settings sat in gleaming gold on the inner and outer perimeter. Candles were already burning in gold candlesticks. Bouquets of yellow and orange flowers sat at regular intervals. They matched the wreaths hanging above. All of it might have been acceptable, had the table cloths not been a vibrant green with runners of pastel pink.
Several lords and ladies were standing in huddles with glasses of deep red wine in their hands. Lord Tivan led Elenna to one such group where they accepted wine and entered into the conversation. Odessa was all to happy to stand completely still with her weight on her good leg. The pain was lessening by the hour, but the weight of the dress was not helping her healing.
More lords and ladies arrived. Odessa entertained herself with watching their initial reactions to the décor. Some were more subtle than others. A soft smile, shared looks of amusement, a scoff hidden behind a gloved hand. She saw Lady Winta step out of her carriage, look around, then visibly debate turning around before smoothing her features and walking into the tent.
Eventually, Lord Ciricen and Lady Hwin arrived. Odessa’s brows lifted as they left their carriage. Lady Hwin was wearing the dress Rutinia made for her. Odessa recognized her own handiwork on the hem. A piece of the ribbon lined Lord Ciricen’s cuffs. Their gait was formal—straight-backed and slow. Lady Hwin met the eyes of the group nearest to her and smiled softly. Lord Ciricen met no one’s eyes. Behind them, Lady Fern stepped lightly with a proud smile.
The pause in conversation began again, this time moving on from the décor to Lady Hwin’s dress. Rutinia’s work was impeccable. The many bolts of velvet somehow looked light and frothy hanging around Lady Hwin’s body. Against the vibrant colors around her, the light purple made her look soft and ethereal.
Another carriage arrived and Lord Wystrom sauntered out. His gray hair was pulled back away from his face, a face that was made somehow younger in the torchlight. The lines around his eyes and mouth were not quite as deep and his blue-green eyes were alight with intelligence. He was wearing a very formal tunic in a deep blue that matched Elenna’s dress. When he turned his head, there was a flash of gold at his ears. It was the only adornment he wore.
With the arrival of their liege, Lord Ciricen and Lady Hwin could take their seats. There were small cards indicating where each person should sit. Odessa was not included in the seating arrangement. She stayed near Elenna, standing far enough back that she would not be in the way of the servants as they put food and drink on the table. There were other chaperons present. Some gave her a nod of acknowledgment from across the tables. Others eyed her dress with speculation. She decided it was the dress that made them keep their distance. Odessa was wearing something far finer than most maids could ever afford. It visibly set her apart from the other chaperons and lady’s maids present.
Elenna sat between her father and Lord Tivan. Lord Ciricen sat to Lord Wystrom’s left, and beside him was Lady Hwin. Lady Fern sat next to her daughter, talking animatedly with Lady Winta. From Odessa’s place at the edges, everything looked...like a picture. Like an oil painting hanging on the wall of a great house.
“Excuse me,” a servant said to her. “Would you like me to bring you a chair?”
Odessa turned to find a very young servant, probably brand new to the service. He was about her height and hadn’t yet filled out into manhood. She smiled at him and said, “Yes, thank you.”
The servant nodded and rushed away. He returned a few minutes later with the promised chair. After putting it down beside her, he offered Odessa his hand and helped her to sit. “I can bring you some wine, if you wish.”
“That would be lovely.” She paused, then asked, “What is your name?”
“Telt.”
“Telt,” Odessa repeated. “Thank you.”
He bowed. “Of course, milady.”
As before, he rushed off and came back a few minutes later with wine. Odessa took it from him and settled in to watch the meal progress. It occurred to her fairly quickly that watching people eat was remarkably boring. Not even the conversation was interesting. I heard the arena will be turned into a monthly vendor exhibition. How much do you think Lady Hwin paid for these flowers? I am happy Rutinia is finished with that dress. I have waited for months to schedule a fitting. This quail is lovely. Have you tried the sauce?
Three courses of inane chatter and the clink of cutlery on plates later, Odessa managed to get Telt’s attention. She requested a second glass of wine. If the last hour was anything to go by, she would need it.
Telt switched her empty glass with a full one. “Should I bring you some food. I can’t—cannot—give you the quail. But, maybe some bread and cheese?”
Odessa shook her head and gave him a sly smile. “Thank you for your kind offer. But, I am fine as long as my wine glass remains full.”
Telt nodded. “That, I can do.”
She wished she had coin to give him. It was not necessary for him to pay her any attention. Odessa was no one in a room full of someones. Outside of her dress, not a single person would take much notice of her.
Lord Ciricen rose, glass in hand. The hum of voices hushed to listen. “My lords and ladies. Thank you for attending our feast. It is a celebration of our grand tournament.” He paused meaningfully. “And, it is a celebration of a grand union. Lady Hwin has consented to be my wife.”
Odessa’s glance turned reflexively to Elenna. Her face was neutral, but her fists were clenched beneath the tablecloth.
“I hope you have enjoyed our games this week,” Lord Ciricen continued. “And, I hope you will enjoy one final surprise.” He turned to Lord Wystrom and gestured with his glass. “Our lord and liege has agreed to perform the wedding tonight, and you all will bear witness.”
She had to look down and pretend to fiddle with the fold of her skirt so that no one saw the way she rolled her eyes. The man could not seem to understand the insult he was inflicting on Elenna. Odessa might go as far as to say Lord Ciricen was enjoying it. She hoped Lady Hwin had a sturdy constitution. It looked like she was in for a lifetime of this kind of behavior.
Lord Ciricen gave some kind of hand signal, and the servants began to methodically remove plates, cutlery, and centerpieces. They spoke softly to the diners, helping ladies to stand and directing everyone to the outer perimeter.
Telt walked over and said, “I’ll have to take your chair.”
Odessa rose. “Of course.”
Servants moved the tables to the outside of the tent, leaving space for Lord Ciricen to walk with Lady Hwin to the center. Lord Wystrom went with them. Odessa noted where Elenna was standing with Lord Tivan and picked up her skirts so that she could move to stand nearby. With her attention on the tent’s center, she failed to notice the person standing at her elbow until she ran out of wine and went to look for Telt.
“What is it with you sneaking up on me?” she whispered harshly.
Lord Adar was entirely too relaxed when he replied, “You should be more observant.”
“I am observant,” Odessa countered. “Look at me...observing.”
The acid in her tone was meant for the ceremony that was beginning with a few words from Lord Wystrom. Odessa didn’t care to hear them. As far as she was concerned, the whole event was an elaborate farce. Tournament included.
Lord Adar took her words literally. His eyes moving from her hair to the significantly less swollen cheek, and down her neck. They rested briefly on the gown’s high neckline before falling down to the floor. He was looking at her the same way he looked at her at the steps to the Lower City. The same way he looked at her at Maylen’s. With quiet, open admiration.
Without thinking, she reached for him. Their fingers threaded together and she loosened her instinctive grip on her power. The torchlight faded, replaced by the orange glow of life threads. All around, the light present inside every person kindled into points of varying colors. Lord Adar’s was as she remembered. A ball of condensed white light with tendrils reaching upwards. A few of those tendrils rolled lazily in her direction. She didn’t have to look down to know that some of her own inner being was stretching to meet them.
Odessa moved closer. “What is this?”
Applause went up all around them. As with the beginning of the ceremony, Odessa ignored them. She held Lord Adar’s eyes. Eyes that were bluer now. Eyes that sat in a face without scars.
“What is this?” she asked again.
His fingers tightened around hers. Something alien and strange flared between their connected palms. It felt more intimate than any embrace. A shiver went through her, dragging heat in its wake.
Lord Wystrom appeared beside them. “Well! Now that my duty is finished, I can get back to my library.”
Odessa stepped back. The tent came back into focus with all its sights and sounds.
Lord Wystrom, either oblivious or deliberately ignoring the intensity between them, clapped a hand on Lord Adar’s shoulder. “I have good news,” he said in a low voice. “Lord Ertan has agreed to allow us to copy his maps.”
Lord Adar reluctantly turned his gaze from Odessa. “That is good news.”
“Come with me. I have them ready for you to review.”
As they walked away, Odessa sent Lord Adar a meaningful look. This was not over. She had a question and he was going to provide an answer.
Her musings were interrupted by Lord Tivan coming up to her. “I think we should take our leave.”
Odessa blinked in surprise. “It is early.”
He tipped his head in Elenna’s direction. She was standing very stiff with an untouched glass of wine in her hand. “I think we have stayed long enough to be polite.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “I agree.”
The whole ride back to the keep was silent. Lord Tivan sat anxiously next to a silent, still Elenna. He kept looking at Odessa, as if she would know what to do. Odessa was just as clueless as he was. Usually, when Elenna was upset, she cried until her tears ran dry, then got up and went back to living her life. The emotionless statue sitting in front of her was a new experience for all of them.
Lord Tivan saw Elenna to the front steps, then kissed her hand before getting in the carriage. As it rolled away, he gave Elenna a long, woeful look. Elenna did not notice. She was already climbing the stairs to the keep.
Odessa waited until they got back to Elenna’s room and the maid helped them both out of their dresses to say anything.
“Are you well?” She asked as she tucked her blouse into her pants.
Elenna pulled the pins from her hair. “I will be.”
“It was wrong, what he did.”
“Yes. It was.”
Odessa sat down to put on her boots. She’d hidden the dagger in her hair wrap and tucked it inside one of them. “I don’t think anyone will be talking about it.”
Elenna, who had begun to comb through her hair, stopped and turned to look at Odessa. “No?”
Odessa shook her head. “They’ll be too busy talking about how gauche those table settings were.”
For several heartbeats, Elenna had little to no reaction to Odessa’s words. Then, abruptly, she burst out laughing. It was good to see her laugh. “I would have never thought to put orange and green together.”
“No one would have thought to put orange and green together,” Odessa replied, “because no one is that colorblind.”
“Ah,” Elenna huffed, “she was gloating the entire time. I thought she was going to sprout black feathers with the way she crowed.”
Odessa stood, holding her wrapped dagger in both hands. “You did well tonight.”
Elenna sobered. “I did what my father asked me to do.”
“How did Lord Ciricen even get him to agree?”
She waved a hand. “He made some kind of deal to get extra grain for the cool months.”
“And,” Odessa hedged, “the warg?”
Elenna looked away. “He will not speak of it with me.”
“Ah.” The room descended into silence. Odessa, tired and aching from carrying the dress, said, “I should go.”
Elenna stood and hugged her. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“Of course.”
Odessa left the keep through the side entrance closest to the road leading to her cottage. As it had been for several nights, the city she walked through was filled with music and wine and laughter. People were recounting the days’ events. The tournament. The feast. The latest gossip about a surprise wedding. Her feelings about the day were somewhat mixed, but that didn’t seem to be the case for anyone else. Lossarnach was awash with ambient excitement. Absently, she cast out her power to feel the joy a little deeper. Pulling it into herself to wear away the rough edges of her own unsettling emotions.
I am really struggling with starting my next fic. I planned to continue working with the Rings of Power to tell Mika's part of the story, but I'm finding that my creative energy is veering off on a tangent to another fandom.
In other words, a palate cleanser.
I'm going to sit with this story line for a few days and see if I can flesh it out into something workable. If I can manage to come up with an ending I'll give it a go. Maybe I'll be able to write something under 100,000 words (let's be honest, long fics are kind of my jam).
I am really struggling with starting my next fic. I planned to continue working with the Rings of Power to tell Mika's part of the story, but I'm finding that my creative energy is veering off on a tangent to another fandom.
In other words, a palate cleanser.
I'm going to sit with this story line for a few days and see if I can flesh it out into something workable. If I can manage to come up with an ending I'll give it a go. Maybe I'll be able to write something under 100,000 words (let's be honest, long fics are kind of my jam).
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count: ~5,100
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
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Masterlist
Odessa settled onto the bench. She got to the arena a little bit early and the railing in front of her was mostly empty. Her arrival was intentional. Less people meant less jostling. Less jostling meant less pain. Overnight, Odessa’s injuries became all too apparent. Every limb ached and her skin was mottled with deep bruises. Her body could heal faster than any human, but that didn’t save her from the pain.
The last event of the tournament was the most exciting, by far. It was also the most violent. Fifty men in full armor would enter the ring in tiers of ten. They would subsequently beat the shit out of each other until there was only one left standing. Then, the five winners would face off against each other to claim the title of champion. Probably in a pool of their opponents’ blood.
Odessa noticed that the railing in the middle of the ring had been removed overnight. She leaned forward, wincing when it pulled on her side. All obstacles in the ring were gone. Even the banners. The gates on each end of the arena were closed and the dirt was freshly raked. Fresh flowers lined the second tier and the wooden platforms were swept clean of dust. Odessa was sure several men worked through the night to make sure everything met Lord Ciricen’s standards for the final day of the tournament.
The aforementioned lord hadn’t yet arrived. Neither had Elenna. Lord Ciricen’s box was empty, save for the servants who were standing at the ready. She could see a table set up with food and drink. A maid waved a fan over it to keep the flies away. Other lords were already sitting in their boxes. Unlike the days before, none were allowed to walk in the ring. They were guided up back stairs, like the one behind her, by guards who had explicit orders to keep everyone back.
It was a good strategy. After two days where anyone could walk wherever they wanted when the competition wasn’t active, limiting the access drew speculation as to how the melee would happen. Lord Ciricen might not be the most honest man, but he knew what would get people talking. And, they were talking. Odessa could hear a group of men standing beneath the arch to her left arguing about who would make it past the first round.
“I am telling you,” one of them was saying, “Gerogin is unstoppable.”
“He’s got size,” another replied. “but he’s slow.”
“Don’t need speed if you can punch through a wooden door.”
“Did he actually punch through the door, or did he just break it?”
“I heard his fist went clean through.”
“Eh. I still think Rooks is the better bet.”
“Rooks was still in his nappies when Gerogin was warring down south.”
They walked down the rail to find a spot to watch, still arguing. Odessa listened to them with bemusement while she shifted her weight to take the pressure off her hip. She was beginning to think coming to the arena was a bad idea. It would have been better to lay in bed. Less painful, surely. Walking back to her cottage held even less appeal than sitting on the bench for a few hours. Odessa resigned herself to the consequences her decision.
More people began to enter the arena. She could hear Rune directing the traffic in a calm, stern voice. He seemed to be getting used to giving orders. By now, almost everyone knew where to go and how to fill in the gaps. Wave after wave moved in until they were standing shoulder to shoulder. The buzz of conversation hushed somewhat when Lord Ciricen finally arrived.
He was wearing an ostentatious tunic in bright green. It matched Lady Hwin’s dress. He led her to a seat before turning to wave to the crowd. As he had before, Lord Ciricen received a healthy round of applause. He waved for a solid thirty seconds before taking his seat next to Lady Hwin. Odessa was in the middle of rolling her eyes when Elenna ascended the steps.
She was wearing one of Rutinia’s dresses. Odessa remembered beading that bodice for weeks during the frost. She wasn’t aware Elenna had it commissioned. In contrast to Lady Hwin’s green, Elenna’s dress was a radiant white. The crystal beading threw off all kinds of colors every time she moved and she was making the most of it. Every move was a practiced dance, though Odessa wasn’t sure what the message might be. Beside her Lord Tivan was wearing white slacks and a deep blue tunic. At his neck was some kind of broach that refracted the light into a prism. Lord Tivan helped his lady to her seat, then took his own.
Elenna was wearing her hair down and unadorned. The brown locks lay in soft waves almost to her waist. Odessa could see no jewelry, no sashes or belts, not even a flower bud. A murmur went through the crowd. They were so used to seeing Elenna presenting herself with pins and jewels that seeing her without them must have been quite shocking.
The horns sounded and the gates opened. Eyes shifted away from Lord Ciricen’s box to where the ten competitors entered the ring. As she anticipated, they were all wearing armor. Their choice of weapons varied, but she noticed there were no blades. Instead, they held large hammers, maces, flails, and clubs. The herald introduced them one by one. Odessa recognized none of the names—Gerogin and Rooks weren’t in this round. She noticed that there was a clear favorite. A man wearing a light blue scarf tied around his shoulder. Yeri’s name was called and cheers erupted all around the arena. People threw up their hands and waved. He acknowledged all of it with a deep bow.
Odessa was so focused on what was going on in the ring that she failed to notice that she was no longer along until a shadow fell directly over her. She gasped, “Che cazzo!”
Lord Adar stilled halfway through a step. “It was not my intention to startle you.”
Odessa laughed in awkward relief. She touched her side where pain flared at her sudden flinch. “No. I’m fine. Please sit.”
He sat.
“How did your meeting with Lord Wystrom go?”
“It was productive,” he answered as he took in the goings on in the ring.
When it became evident that he wasn’t going to speak more on the subject, Odessa changed the subject. “There are more people here today. I think everyone is looking forward to the melee.”
As if the herald heard her words, the horn blew again. Ten men rushed at one another. The sound of their armor crashing together was loud and jarring. Almost immediately, Odessa lost track of individuals competitors. They all looked the same, save for Yeri, whose blue scarf distinguished him from the rest.
“I will be glad when this is over,” Lord Adar said.
She looked at him, “Why?”
“There are still several wargs roaming the woods. I cannot hunt them when so many people linger outside the city at night.”
“Oh. I suppose keeping them a secret would be more difficult if the local gossips saw you sneaking into the woods at night.”
Lord Adar’s eyes swept over her face. His brows pulled together. “Gossip is not my concern. If I were followed, the wargs might take notice and attack preemptively.”
“Thus ruining your advantage of surprise,” she teased.
“Yes.” He took a breath. “What happened to your cheek?”
Odessa lifted her hand to touch the bruise. “I was clumsy. Took a fall.”
It was a tried and true explanation. Whenever Odessa showed up with fresh bruising or cuts, she would blame clumsiness. A fall. Tripping over a hem. Once she’d had to resort to saying she’d been thrown from a horse even though she didn’t ride. Most people were too polite to ask further questions.
Lord Adar was not too polite. “A fall?”
Odessa hummed an ‘mmhmm’. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
He looked very much like he wanted to question her further. Odessa was saved from having to answer those questions when one of the competitors was thrown into the railing in front of them. He tumbled up and over the rail, landing on top of two smaller men. The crowd jeered and booed, some of them calling for the judges to vote for disqualification. Tossing a man out of the ring was bad form.
The judges gave no indication that they would make any kind of ruling. The man got to his feet and rolled awkwardly back over the rail and into the fray. Odessa counted the men who were still standing. Four left. They were paired off, punching and kicking and striking with their weapons. Yeri was one of them. He held his mace in one hand and grabbed his opponent with the other. With a strong yank, he got the other man to the ground and hit him hard with the mace. Twice. The man on the ground beat his fist on the dirt three times. A surrender.
Three left. No. Two. The man who went over the railing managed to get someone on the ground and force him to yield. The noise in the crowd swelled as Yeri faced off with the final competitor. Odessa watched with interest, hoping for a good fight. She was disappointed to find the man who went over the railing fall to a knee and hit the ground. Three strikes blew up a plume of dust.
“He’s yielding,” she said unnecessarily.
“He’s hurt,” Lord Adar replied. “See how he favors his leg.”
She did see. He limped over to Yeri and grasped his forearm. Yeri returned the gesture respectfully, then face the crowd to accept his victory. He raised his mace above his head and removed his helmet to reveal brown hair, a beard, and a bright, wide grin. The crowd rewarded him with applause and cheers.
“Well,” Odessa breathed, “that was certainly exciting.”
Lord Adar acknowledged her statement with a nod. “He fought well.”
“He did. Even if he doesn’t win, he’ll have enough fame to find a position with the guard. He might even manage to arrange a marriage.”
“Is that why they compete?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes its just about the thrill of the fight.”
He made a soft noise that she interpreted as agreement.
“Have you ever competed?”
Lord Adar pulled his eyes from the ring. “Not in a tournament. But, I have engaged in some friendly competition.”
She leaned towards him. “Did you win?”
His mouth quirked. “Often.”
Intrigued, she asked, “What was your weapon of choice?”
“A bow. Although I sometimes chose a sword. For variety.”
“For variety,” she drawled.
“For a challenge,” he clarified. “I was not...naturally a warrior.”
“What were you—naturally?”
Something about the question, innocently asked, seemed to strike a nerve. Lord Adar’s gaze became distant and the scars on his temple pulled tight.
“I was…”
His sentence was interrupted by a horn. The second round of the melee began. Lord Adar fell silent and they watched ten men whittle down to one in near silence. Vervan, his armor stained a cool green, stood tall at the end. The fight was just as violent and the crowd just as vocal. Odessa experienced it all as if she were standing very far away. Her attention was dragged away from the spectacle to rest on the person sitting beside her.
Not for the first time, she wondered who he was when he wasn’t in Lossarnach. Who was he when he was among his people? What kind of leader was he? She knew that he was intelligent, knew that he was strong. She knew that he carried a light inside him that rivaled the Elves. A light that, instead of tying him to the earth, tied him directly to the sky.
“I have made a decision,” Lord Adar began, interrupting her thoughts. “My children will settle in the south.”
“Oh?” Odessa replied. “Why the south?”
“The land will be more hospitable.”
“For tunneling?”
He tipped his head at her joking tone. “At first. I have further plans to ensure we can live comfortably.”
She adjusted a little to relieve the ache in her leg. “That is...good to hear.”
“It is good to know,” he replied. “We have wandered for too long.”
Odessa knew all about wandering. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.” His voice was soft and genuine. If he were anyone else, he might have touched her arm gently. Since he was himself, he didn’t move.
The horns sounded again to signal the third round. Ten more men rushed into battle. Odessa heard someone called out Gerogin’s name. Across the arena came the chanting of, Rooks, Rooks, Rooks. The cheers were so loud that they nearly overcame the crash and tumble of metal.
“What do you plan to do first?” she asked. “When you get settled.”
Lord Adar thought about it. “Build homes. Real homes. So that my children do not have to sleep in tents.”
Odessa smiled fondly. “They will appreciate that.”
A loud boom came from the ring. She looked just in time to see a massive man slam a war hammer down onto the chest of a man laying at his feat. He swung the hammer around and caught another man as he was running by, knocking him onto his back.
“This must by Gerogin,” she commented. “He’s the one everyone thinks will win.”
Lord Adar watched Gerogin give a vicious kick that threw a man several feet backwards. “I can see why.”
Behind Gerogin, a smaller man wielding a club bested his opponent by dropping to the ground and sweeping the legs out from under him. Rooks. The men were right. He was fast. The armor he wore was light enough that he could jump over the fallen bodies of other competitors with ease. He raised his club in a ready stance, ready to face off against a man who dwarfed him.
Gerogin stood tall and turned in a circle. Odessa saw the moment he realized that it was just him and Rooks left in the ring. The man at his feet was being dragged out of the arena. The two competitors faced off while the dust settled. Gerogin hefted his war hammer and let his weight fall into his legs to lower his center of gravity. Rooks let another moment pass so that Gerogin could prepare, then rushed the bigger man.
Instead of striking Gerogin with the club, Rooks took a running leap and used the momentum to swing around so that he was crouched atop Gerogin’s back. He got a handhold on a pauldron and began to beat Gerogin about the head with the club. Gerogin’s arms wheeled as he tried to loosen Rooks’ hold.
Odessa chuckled. “That’s one way to do it.”
“Gerogin is nearly twice his size,” Lord Adar commented. “It would be foolish not to use that to his advantage.”
Gerogin was throwing his weight left and right. Rooks held on tight, still hitting him.
“I never had siblings,” she said, “but that looks like two children fighting over a pastry.”
He let out a breath that was just short of a laugh. “Indeed it does.”
Gerogin finally managed to throw Rooks down. He landed so hard that he literally bounced in the dirt. Rooks rolled to avoid an armored foot, but wasn’t fast enough for Gerogin to miss him with the hammer. The sound of the weapon hitting Rooks clear across the head brought a hush to the audience.
Rooks’ helmet went flying in a spray of sweat and blood. Clearly dazed, he began to crawl after it. Gerogin watched him move slowly across the dirt before dropping his war hammer. He walked over to Rooks and shoved him onto his back. Then, he straddled his opponent and began to punch him in the face. The first punch broke Rooks’ nose. The second knocked him unconscious. And still, he kept punching. Gerogin kept punching until a horn blew hastily to end the match.
The cheers for the winner of the third round were much softer than the first two. Odessa could see disdain written clearly on some of the faces closest to her. Several people were looking to Lord Ciricen’s box—looking to a lord for direction. Lord Ciricen didn’t appear to be bothered by Gerogin’s unwarranted violence. He leaned over and refilled his wine, sipping calmly.
Rooks was dragged away. A wash of red marked the path of his body through the gates. Odessa watched him go with a stone weighing down her stomach.
“You said this was practice for battle,” she murmured. “That isn’t practice.”
Lord Adar was silent a moment. “Battle is much worse.”
“I believe you.”
Odessa had never been in battle. Fights, yes. Skirmishes, often. But, not battle. Not war. She’d heard her father talk about it—argue about it—with other nobleman. In his opinion, war was not worth the cost of life that would be required to win. It was not worth his life, which was claimed months later during what should have been a small, easily winnable fight.
A boy walked into the ring with a rake. He worked methodically to work Rooks’ blood into the dirt. By the time he was done, she could hardly see the streak cutting through the ring.
“Will you attend the feast tonight?”
Odessa blinked to clear her thoughts. “I haven’t decided.”
“No?” His voice was quietly surprised.
She shook her head. “I’m growing tired of Lord Ciricen’s spectacle.”
“You might be the only person in the city to feel that way.”
Odessa glanced at Lord Ciricen’s box. Elenna was leaning towards Lord Tivan, saying something that made the man laugh. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Elenna showed no revulsion to the gesture. In fact, her face was all smiles and happiness. Was this an act for Lord Ciricen’s sake, or had something changed?
Horns. The trumpeter stood in the middle of the ring with the three remaining competitors to his right. To his left, a herald introduced the massive Gerogin, Yeri with his blue scarf, and Vervan.
“For the final round,” the herald called out, “we have a surprise!”
An excited murmur went through the crowd. The herald waited with a knowing grin until it died down. Then, he gestured towards the gate beneath the lords’ balcony. It open and a cage rolled forward.
Odessa gasped and her hand shot out to grasp Lord Adar’s arm. “No.”
The cage was rolled near the center of the arena. Inside, the warg growled and rammed the bars. The crowd reacted with understandable fear. A few started pushing away from the rail. Most were watching the cage warily. The three competitors were wearing their helms, which disguised their immediate reactions. All of them took a step or two back.
Lord Ciricen’s men hammered a thick loop into the ground near the cage. They threaded one end of the chain through the loop. The other end was attached to a heavy metal collar around the warg’s neck. Its growls grew louder and all the hair on its spine stood on end.
Odessa turned slowly to Lord Adar. “Did you…?”
He cut her an angry glance. “No.”
“Then, how…?”
Lord Adar shook his head. He stared at the warg with narrow eyes. A muscle in his jaw tightened with anger and the hand on his thigh curled into a fist.
The warg hit the bars again. Odessa flinched.
“Peace!” the herald cried. “The chain is strong and will hold.” He turned to the competitors. “Any man who wishes to forfeit may do so now.”
For one breathless moment, Odessa thought Vervan would walk out. He swung his flail gently, the spiked metal ball arcing in the air. As the seconds passed, she realized that all three men were going to face the warg. The chance for glory was too enticing to retreat now.
The herald gave them a bow. Then said, “The rules are the same. Last man standing is our champion!”
As he walked away, Odessa detected a hint of urgency in his step. He disappeared behind a pair of armed guards. In the ring, a single man grasped a rope tied to the sliding lock on the warg’s cage. He gave a warning nod to the men in armor, then pulled.
The warg burst from the cage in a full sprint. It was aiming for the still open gate. The beast reached the end of the chain and jerked around with a yelp. It scurried to get its feet underneath it, then ran in the opposite direction with the same results. While it worked out the range of the chain, the three competitors fanned out.
Yeri appeared to be saying something to them, but Odessa could not hear. Vervan signaled that he’d heard while Gerogin appeared to be ignoring him. Odessa thought Yeri had the right idea. None of them could take the warg on their own. If they wanted to survive, they would have to work together.
She remembered what Lord Adar told her. He used the advantage of height to kill wargs—jumping down on them from above to fatally wound them. There was no advantage of the high ground in the ring. There was also nothing to hide behind. Just flat ground and the hope that the chain wouldn’t snap.
“What is he thinking?” Odessa hissed. If the warg got loose, it wouldn’t just be the armored men who were in danger. There were children standing at the rail.
Lord Ciricen, for the first time, look interested in what was going on in the ring. He was leaned forward in his chair, eyes focused on the scene below. Beside him, Lady Hwin had one hand on her mouth and the other holding Elenna’s hand. Odessa caught the frightened look in Elenna’s eyes. She thought Elenna might be saying ‘stop’. Lord Tivan was the only one in the box not watching. His head was turned so far away that he was almost giving his back to the crowd.
“Did Lord Wystrom approve of this? Did he talk about it with you?”
Lord Adar shook his head. “No. We never discussed this.”
The warg attacked.
It charged Gerogin, barely dodging the war hammer he swung deftly at its legs. As the warg slid around a turn, Vervan lunged forward. His flail whipped upward, hitting its mark. Blood sprayed from the warg’s hind leg, painting the ground red. All around the arena, a tentative cheer bubbled up. The cheer got louder when Gerogin took a second swing and knocked the warg across the head.
Odessa’s father once told her about the Colosseum. He’d made the trip to Rome when he was a boy. It was a feat of architecture from the ancient world, carrying with it all the myths and legends. She remembered staring at the charcoal drawings he carefully unwrapped for her. Columns and stone arches reaching up to the sky. Her father always told her that he would bring Odessa to Rome when she was an adult. It was a promise he was not allowed to keep. The arena Odessa now sat in was nothing close to the glory of the Colosseum. It seemed, however, that people were people no matter which realm she walked. They cheered and jeered for the gladiators who stood tall in the face of death.
For several minutes, Odessa watched the three men strike out at the warg. As the fight went on, their skill became apparent. Agility, strength, strategy all working together to weaken the larger opponent. She began to relax. Which, as it turned out, was premature.
The warg slid around on a single leg, pulling its chain hard along with it. Vervan’s legs were swept out from until him. He landed hard on his back and could not get up before the warg trampled him beneath its feet. Metal distorted and bent, an arm was snapped out of place, his head was brutally slammed into the ground. The warg kept moving. Vervan lay still.
Blood seeped from his helmet and from beneath his chest plate. The armor was caved in so deeply that Odessa knew his torso would be torn to pieces beneath. She did not need to cast out her senses to know that Vervan was dead. If the hush that went through the crowd was any indication, they knew it, too.
The beast and the remaining two men went on with the battle. Yeri picked up Vervan’s dropped flail and readied it. He swung his mace in his dominant hand, keeping a wide stance so that he could maneuver around the warg. Gerogin, who had been keeping to the outer ring out of the warg’s reach, rushed forward.
He slipped beneath sharp tusks and jabbed the warg beneath its jaw with his hammer. Teeth clacked together loudly, coupled with a roar of pain. Gerogin moved quickly, stepped to the side and giving the hammer another swing. It his the warg across the nose, sending the animal to the ground. Gerogin had to skip backwards to avoid the hooves that killed Vervan.
Yeri ran around to the warg’s back, hitting it with the flail. The spikes stuck into the beast’s hide, ripping flesh and muscle. Blood spattered Yeri’s armor. He puled the flail free and, like Gerogin, skipped away out of danger.
The warg moved far too fast for a beast of its size. It got to its feet, snarling all the way. The bulbous head swung around, tusks cutting through the air. Both men managed to avoid sharp bone by running in opposite directions. The warg watched both of them, visibly thinking about which way it wanted to go. It chose Yeri.
Hooves kicking up dust, the warg hunted him down, ramming its forehead into Yeri’s back and knocking him several feet into the air. His limbs wheeled wildly and both weapons went flying. The warg centered itself beneath Yeri and hit him a second time as he came down. One of its tusks slipped between the armor, impaling the man. The warg shook its head in the same motion a dog might make with prey. Yeri’s screams were loud and anguished.
In her shock, Odessa shot to standing. The fast movement sent a lance of pain through her hip and leg. She grunted and wrapped her arm around her middle, pressing against the ache. Beside her, Lord Adar watched her closely. She ignored him and limped away from the bench.
Before her, people were crying out in dismay. Mothers covered the eyes of their children. Some began to trickle out of the arena. A small minority were throwing fists in the air, cheering on the gore.
While Yeri died an excruciating death, Gerogin made his move. He hit the warg across the knee joint, dislocating it. Then, when it fell to the ground, he walked up to its head and hammered its skull hard. The blow turned its head to an unnatural angle. Yeri slid off its tusk where he lay limp and bleeding. Gerogin hit the warg again. Its head split open and its legs spasmed. Another hit, and the warg went still.
Odessa inhaled deeply with the audience. Her exhale was nearly silent. Relief. It was over. Two men were dead, the third walking a wide circle with his hammer lifted high above his head. A smattering of applause became a thunderous drum of joy. They had a champion. Lord Ciricen had a champion, too.
He was up and out of his seat, clapping proudly. She could see his grin from across the ring. Lady Hwin was beside him, her hands folded demurely in front of her stomach. Her spine was rigid, but she was smiling. Elenna and Lord Tivan were missing.
The herald reentered the ring to distract everyone from the men dragging Vervan and Yeri away. He riled up the crowd, encouraging them to keep cheering.
“Do you,” Lord Adar began, “wish to stay for the presentation of the prize?”
He was standing just behind her. She turned to find him still watching her. In the shadows, his eyes sparked with an eerie light.
“No,” she replied.
He held out a hand, the implication clear. Odessa took it and let him lay her fingers over his arm. They walked together out of the alcove and through the archway. Odessa paid special attention to her gait, hoping to conceal her limp.
The sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky. At her side, Lord Adar tipped his head back and briefly closed his eyes to take in its warmth. They made it two dozen steps from the arena when a loud voice called out Lord Adar’s name. He stopped and turned to find Rune rushing across the grass.
“Lord Adar!” he called out, skidding to a stop. Through rushed breaths, he said, “Lord Wystrom asks for you to attend him at tonight’s feast.”
Lord Adar watched Rune wheeze for a moment. “Of course.”
Rune held up a hand while he caught his breath. “I also have a message from Lady Elenna. She is asking for you, Odessa. She wants you to come to her as soon as possible.”
Odessa frowned. “Where is she?”
“I can take you to her,” he replied, straightening.
She glanced at Lord Adar. “I have to…”
He nodded, just once. “Yes. I will see you at the feast?”
Odessa had not planned to attend the feast, but she found herself saying, “Yes. I will see you at the feast.”
Lord Adar passed her to Rune, who took her arm clumsily. He walked quickly away, disappearing past the stalls. Odessa moved far slower and with far less grace.
“Is she well?”
Rune touched his hat, adjusting it to lay across his forehead the way it was supposed to. “Her maid seemed...upset.”
Odessa pursed her lips. Elenna likely never saw the kind of violence that was on display in the arena. Even Odessa was put off by it and she’d just killed three apate the day before. The addition of the warg seemed to make her distaste more sour.
“Rune,” she said, “how did Lord Ciricen get a warg?”
“I have no idea, my lady.”
“Can you find out?”
Rune paused, saying nothing until they were past the city wall and walking through a sparsely populated street. “I think so.”
She took a breath. “I would be grateful, if you did.”
“Yes, my lady.”
They turned around a corner and walking through the garden’s back gate. The guard gave Rune a nod as they passed by. Odessa walked with him, breathing in the scent of flowers. The garden was in full bloom. Splashes of color filled every nook and cranny. Even the hedge maze was dotted with little buds that perfectly matched the shade of red splattered inside the arena.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count: ~4,300
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
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Masterlist
The archery event was significantly less exciting than the jousting. Odessa sat alone on the bench, watching arrow after arrow hit the target. The competitors were several hours into the match and a third had already been eliminated. At present, the audience was waiting in anticipation for a judge to make a final decision when a pair of arrows landed too close together. Despite the drama, Odessa was beginning to grow bored.
Her eyes wandered over to where Elenna was sitting in Lord Ciricen’s box. As she had the day before, she observed the event with her head held high. Odessa was sure she would hear the details of how things actually went in the balcony later. From a distance, it looked as if Elenna was perfectly fine to sit next to Lady Hwin and the man who made her false promises.
Elenna leaned over and spoke with Lord Tivan. Odessa thought she saw the flash of a smile pass over her mouth. If Elenna did, in fact, not like the man, she was doing a good job pretending otherwise.
Applause ran a loop around the arena. One of the archers, an older man wearing a banner Odessa didn’t recognize, held up a fist. He’d managed to make it to the next round. Odessa clapped politely and resigned herself to the fact that she just wasn’t interested in sitting there any longer. She stood and walked out from the passageway, giving Rune a wave on the way. He waved back, then stooped from his post to listen to a woman trying to get his attention.
Odessa wandered out of the arena. The atmosphere from the previous night carried over. Musicians were playing music. Children were running from place to place. People were eating and drinking. The mood was jovial and easy. Odessa, too, felt jovial and easy.
She was wide awake and alert despite the fact that Lord Adar walked her home in the early morning twilight. They spent hours standing together, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. On her doorstep, he bid her goodbye with the soft pink sky of morning at his back. Odessa remembered how powerful the urge to reach out to him was, how she had to hold onto the doorjamb to keep her hands to herself.
As she lay in bed afterwards, Odessa allowed herself to admit that she was attracted to him. Attraction didn’t mean much of anything, and she knew that she wasn’t going to do anything about it. Odessa had been attracted to the occasional person from time to time. She savored the feeling when it came and let it go when it was time to move on. It would be the same now as it was then. Why, then, was she so disappointed?
Just outside the city gates, she found a distraction in a familiar face. Odessa walked up to her with a smile. “How are you enjoying the tournament?”
Rutinia returned the smile. “I hoped I would be more interested. I don’t understand how people can cheer for such violence.”
“You think shooting at a target is violent?”
She shook her head. “Maybe not. But, that man was hurt badly yesterday.”
“Which man?”
“The one who got knocked off his horse.”
Odessa recalled the moment Berman’s champion shattered his lance. “Yes, I suppose it is violent.”
Rutinia shuddered with disgust. “As I said, I don’t understand it.”
“I think you should skip tomorrow’s event, then,” Odessa said. “The melee will be...very violent.”
“I’ve heard,” Rutinia replied. She turned her eyes to the wall. “I think I’m just going to head back.”
“I’ll go with you,” Odessa offered. “I was heading that way, anyways.”
They entered through the eastern gate where scaffolding was already being put into place to build the addition. It appeared that Lord Ertan had not given his workers leave to attend the tournament. Men were digging out from the wall to level the ground so that a foundation could be laid. Dust and dirt floated in the air, covering almost every surface. Rutinia had to lift her skirt hem to keep it clean. Odessa congratulated herself for wearing boots.
“How did Lady Hwin’s fitting go?”
“It went well,” Rutinia answered easily. “She liked the ribbon you made.”
Of course she did, Odessa thought with pride.
“I’m glad. It took far too long to stitch.”
Rutinia laughed lightly. “I’m lucky she didn’t ask for any more changes to the gown.” Her voice pitched down. “I think she expects to be wearing it soon.”
Odessa made an intrigued sound. “How soon?”
“I can’t be sure, but her maid is the sister of my leather supplier. She said that Lady Hwin has ordered a new saddle.”
She frowned in confusion. “What does a saddle have to do with a wedding?”
Rutinia gave her a flat look. “I sometimes forget that you just arrived here.”
“Yes, I’m a traveler,” Odessa replied quickly, as if the fact were immaterial. “Tell me what a saddle has to do with marriage.”
“Its for the arrival. For when she rides out to Lord Ciricen’s home.”
“She won’t use a carriage?”
“For most of the trip, yes,” Rutinia said, “but for the last mile she will ride a horse. Its tradition.”
“Oh.”
“So, a fresh saddle means a very special ride.”
“Oh,” Odessa repeated. “Its all settled, then?”
Rutinia shrugged. “Seems like it. How is Lady Elenna taking it? I heard she’s been sitting in Lord Ciricen’s box.”
“She has moved on,” Odessa replied airily.
“Lord Tivan?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, that’s makes sense.”
Odessa frowned. “How?”
“He owns more land than anyone else, save for her father. I heard most of his cattle survived the frost. Doesn’t it make sense that Lord Wystrom would want to ensure a strong trade relationship with him?”
“I guess.”
Rutinia glanced at her. “You don’t agree?”
Odessa tried to organize her thoughts. “I suppose that I always thought marriage was about more than trade relationships.”
“That’s an awfully romantic perspective to have for a daughter of a lord.”
She flinched. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Rutinia laughed and touched Odessa’s arm. “I thought it was obvious. You’re too well educated to have been born in the peasantry. Your embroidery, alone, is skilled enough that you had to have been taught by a master. No farmer or field worker could afford to pay for that.”
They turned away from the gates and walked down a nearly empty street. While they moved from one block to the next, Odessa wrestled with the understanding that she hadn’t been quite as covert as she thought.
“My parents,” she said, changing the subject slightly, “loved each other. Very much.”
“Mine, too,” Rutinia murmured. “They still do.”
Speaking of love…
“Russ!” Odessa called out.
He was standing with a group of stonemasons near the entrance to The Black Stirrup. It was open unusually early. Kew was probably trying to take advantage of the tournament. Russ looked up at the sound of his name, his gaze briefly hardening when he saw Odessa. It softened when he found the person she was walking with.
“Russ,” Odessa said again when she was in speaking distance, “I was wondering if I would see you on this side of the city.”
Russ rested his hand on his work belt. “I got a contract with Lord Ertan.”
“Glad to hear it. Did Ridder also get a contract?”
He nodded. “He’s with the planners now. They want to start building as soon as the tournament is over.”
She let a beat pass and, as if the idea just occurred to her, said, “Oh, I’m being rude. Russ, this is Rutinia. Rutinia, this is my friend Russ.”
“Well met,” Russ murmured.
“Well met,” Rutinia replied.
“Russ,” Odessa added, “is a stonemason.”
“I can see that,” Rutinia said. “I’ll wager you’re happy to be on Lord Ertan’s contract. You have guaranteed work for at least the next year or two.”
Russ nodded. “The steady salary is a boon.” He paused, then said, “Are you coming from the tournament?”
“We are,” Rutinia said.
“I heard it was something to see.”
Rutinia shrugged. “If you like that sort of thing.”
Her nonchalant attitude seemed to throw Russ off. Odessa watched him flounder for something to say before she cut in. “There’s more than just the competition. Just last night, a band of musicians played for hours in the open market.”
Russ took the lead and ran with it. “I could hear them from the wall. I thought it sounded nice.” He looked to Rutinia. “Do you like music?”
“I do,” she replied. Her voice tipped up in soft, subtle invitation.
Odessa felt a little knot of anxiety loosen. “How much do you want to wager that they will play again tonight?”
“That seems likely,” Russ agreed readily. “Maybe I will see you two there.”
Rutinia smiled softly. “Maybe you will.” She took Odessa’s arm. “I have to get back to the shop.”
“Yes, of course,” Russ said. “I will see you around.”
Odessa walked off with Rutinia. She looked back at Russ as they turned the corner. He was standing there in the same position, hand on his work belt, watching them go. She gave him an encouraging grin and went on her way.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you are doing.”
Odessa made a face that was the picture of innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rutinia did not believe her. “I have not been single so long that you need to step in and try to play matchmaker.”
“I’m doing no such thing,” she argued gently. “I’m just introducing my friends to one another.”
Rutinia made a sound that reiterated her disbelief. “And, what about you?”
“What about me?”
“In all the years I have known you,” Rutinia said, “you have allowed no man to court you.”
“Yes,” Odessa drawled, “because I have so many choices. They’re practically lined up all the way from my cottage to Brint’s shop.”
“Oh, don’t pretend they don’t notice you.”
Odessa waved a dismissive hand. “They only notice when I’m standing in a place a woman normally doesn’t stand.”
Rutinia shook her head. “If you say so.”
They were nearing Rutinia’s shop. Odessa walked with her as far as the door. “Do you actually plan to go out and hear the music this evening?”
“Likely,” Rutinia replied. “Do you?”
“I haven’t decided.”
Rutinia’s gaze narrowed. “Are you planning something?”
Odessa held up both hands. “I’m not planning anything. I swear.”
“You’re always planning something, Odessa.”
“This time I’m not.”
“Sure.” Rutinia unlocked the door. Her voice was a singsong as she said, “See you later.”
Odessa rolled her eyes. “See you later.”
She took the long way back to the cottage, winding through the streets and alleys to remind herself of the paths she rarely walked. With the city so empty, she could walk without worrying about looking like she had somewhere to be. Odessa kept a slow pace, taking in the brick buildings and the ever present potted plants. Even in the poorest places, Lossarnach found a way to grow flowers.
With the absence of eyes on her, Odessa could let her senses roam wildly. Threads glowed, mixing with the sunlight so that Odessa was cloaked in gold. The sight was so beautiful that she stopped walking just to look at it. Was the structure of all realms this pretty? Did other places, other worlds, gleam with orange and gold?
It was her close inspection that allowed Odessa to notice a tear at the end of the block. She wandered over and dropped to a knee. There, she pressed her hand to the tear to test the tension. Pieces snapped off with the slightest touch. She pulled on the threads and noticed that this didn’t look like a normal tear. The threads looked...eaten.
Odessa went very still. She stared at the tear. It looked fresh, which meant the apate could still be close. As she rose, her hand slipped into her boot and pulled the dagger free. Again, she congratulated herself for her forethought. Unlike, Mika, Odessa was not skilled enough in magic to kill an apate without a weapon.
With one hand on the building beside her and the other holding the dagger at the ready, Odessa crept along the street. She felt for the telltale cold that every apate left in its wake. Her senses could only pick up the ambient warmth of last night’s joy. She pushed harder. Further.
Odessa inhaled sharply. For weeks, there was no indication that the apate returned to the city and now that she had evidence of its presence, she couldn’t track it down. She was a warden. This was her job. Where had all her skills gone? She stopped and leaned against the building. Getting frustrated wasn’t going to help her do what needed to be done. She worked muscle group by muscle group, forcing them to relax. Then, she gathered up her power and tried again.
Nothing. Again. Merda.
She pressed the heel of her hand into her eye, then dragged it down her face. It did nothing to assuage the headache she could feel growing beneath her cheekbone. She stood there, feeling kind of useless, eyes roaming the street idly. The storefronts were all closed, with handwritten notes to indicate the owners would be back after the tournament. Even the small cafes were shut tight.
The shrubbery was dead. Odessa cocked her head to the side. No shop owner would ever allow their storefront display to become dry and brittle. Not even for a tournament. She pushed from the wall and walked across the street to get a closer look. Reaching out, she snapped off a small branch and rolled it between her fingertips. Definitely dead.
Odessa frowned and looked to her left. No dead shrubs. She looked to her right and found a row of dead plants. Slowly, she followed the trail to where it bent around a corner. The dead shrubs gave way to dead flowers. Wilted petals littered the ground. Odessa walked over them, each step releasing the faint scent of decay, until she found herself standing at the top of a staircase.
She looked down into the entrance of the Lower City with trepidation. This definitely felt like a trap. The quarters were large, but the halls were narrow. Her movement would be limited. Not to mention the lack of light. Knowing all of that didn’t change anything. She was still going to go down there.
Odessa sucked her teeth and took the first step. Then, the next. And, the next. One by one, she dropped down into the Lower City. The air cooled noticeably as she sank further in to darkness. By the time she reached the last stair, Odessa’s skin was prickling. She gripped the dagger tight and fought off the shiver that wanted to run down her spine.
The hall was dark. She could barely see the first set of doors leading to the coffee merchant’s quarter. Odessa reached out and turned the large mirror to catch the sunlight. She pointed the beam down the hall. It looked empty. Slowly, carefully, Odessa moved into the dim space while her body prepared for a fight.
Her senses sharpened and blood pumped through her veins. The quick breaths she drew were touched with something rotten. Odessa wrinkled her nose and tried to breathe through her mouth, which didn’t do anything but make her taste the rottenness. With every passing second, Odessa became more sure that the apate was down here.
She came to the crossroad that divided the Lower City into quarters. Near the ceiling, all four mirrors meant to direct the sun down the halls were cracked. The shattered glass sent shards of light in wayward directions, cutting into the darkness at random. She turned a circle, looking down each hall. There were no flowers in the Lower City, no indication as to which way the apate had gone.
Odessa tapped the dagger against her thigh. Which way? Which way? Every hall looked the same as the others. Dark. Shadowy. Stinky. She winced at the stench. Did one of the halls smell worse than the others? Odessa leaned forward and took a tentative breath. Yes. The hall directly in front of her definitely smelled worse.
Following her nose, Odessa walked steadily forward until she reached a door that seemed to be holding back the smell of death, itself. She covered the lower half of her face with her forearm. Her eyes watered and her stomach turned over. She swallowed around a dry throat and prepared to reach out and open the door to Teig’s quarter.
The knob was icy. A dusting of frost collected on the metal, making it difficult to turn. Odessa pushed the door open and stared into the anteroom. The torches weren’t lit and she could see nothing within. Not even the desk she knew was sitting on the far right. She stood there, staring, for far longer than she should have. Every second she wasted was a second she could be spending hunting.
What are you waiting for? She thought. Go!
Odessa didn’t go. Her body refused to make even the slightest motion forward. She stood there in that stinking hallway, staring into the too dark quarter. It was the darkness that kept her still. Not being able to see anything, not even the floor, made her hesitate to take the first step. She could send out her power to open up the threads, but that would limit her ability to perceive a possible attack.
She made a soft, disgusted sound. Clearly, she wasn’t going to get going again if she didn’t do something about the lack of light. Odessa widened her stance and switched the dagger to her other hand. Then, she raised her arm and spread her fingers wide. Odessa focused her mind and exerted her will. Light. I need light. A glimmer flickered above her hand, then fizzled out. She scoffed and tried again. Light. Give me light.
Something sparkled from her palm. Encouraged, Odessa bit down on her lower lip and added pressure. The sparkle spread down to her wrist until her whole hand was encompassed in a soft white glow. She turned her hand over and gently cupped the light between curled fingers. Then, she tossed it into the room. The ball of light bounced once in the air before floating to the ceiling.
I did it! She let out a high pitched, pleased sound and leaned forward to look around. The place looked exactly as it had before. Empty desk. Couple chairs. Door leading to the back. This time, there was no precocious little boy keeping watch. She couldn’t decide if it would be better or worse, if there was. She crossed the room, calling for the light to follow her. Odessa tested the knob for the second door, finding it unlocked. As she began to open it, the wall to her left exploded outwards.
Odessa threw herself to the side as bits of the wall peppered her body. She caught her weight on the door just in time for the apate to strike out. Its arm slapped her hard across the face. Light that had nothing to do with her spell burst from behind her eyes. Odessa yelped. She lifted her hand instinctively to guard her head. The dagger came with it, sliding into the apate’s arm.
The apate screeched. Her ears rang with it, the sound disorienting. Odessa stumbled. her free hand scrambled for purchase against what was left of the wall. The apate took the opening and kicked out. Its foot landed square in her chest. The blow sent her sprawling into the desk. She landed atop it, the wood cracking beneath her weight. She rolled over the top and landed in a crouch on the far side.
Odessa grunted as she threw out a kick of her own to the broken desk. It scraped across the floor and into the apate. The being of shadow split apart so that it went straight through the hole in its body. Odessa sneered and fell into the readiness pose Phil drilled into her for centuries. The apate looked at her a moment, then started to run away.
No, you don’t.
She raised the dagger and threw it at the apate’s back. The blade hit home, sinking into amorphous skin and dragging downward. More screeches ripped from the apate’s mouth. It opened wide—too wide—almost splitting the head in half. Odessa moved quickly, grabbing the dagger and pushing her power into it. The hilt glowed, light streaming outwards. It gobbled up the apate’s shadows, dissolving the thing until it crumbled to nothing and Odessa was left holding the dagger over open air.
She didn’t have time to be happy about the kill. Something cold and angry grabbed her from behind and slammed her through the broken wall into the room beyond. Odessa landed on something soft and squishy and rank. She instinctively wriggled to get free of it, hands sinking into ooze. The light came when she called, illuminating her surroundings.
Bodies. Lots of bodies. All dead. Odessa was laying on top of one that was bloated with decay. She scurried away even as vomit worked up and out of her mouth. They had to be Teig’s men. Their faces were so badly rotted that she couldn’t hope to recognize them. The body she landed on was wearing a familiar wooden brace on their leg. Definitely Teig’s men.
The apate landed on top of her. Its open maw reached for her head. Odessa realized far too late that she’d dropped the dagger in her fall. She jerked this way and that, trying to throw the apate off. It shifted around, balancing against her movements to hold her down. Its teeth solidified, gleaming against the shadowy mass that was its body.
She looked to the side, coming face to face with a decapitated head. All the skin was ripped off, leaving the skull exposed. Odessa grit her teeth against her revulsion and grabbed it. The skull fit surprisingly well in the apate’s mouth. It crunched down on cranium, cracking it into thirds. The jaw bone fell free, hitting Odessa in the forehead. She let out a disgruntled ‘ow’ and looked for something else to shove down the apate’s throat.
Her dagger lay on the floor across the room, glowing faintly. She never learned how to call objects to her. It was too complicated and, more often than not, she ended out yanking whatever she was trying to move too hard. After the hundredth time she failed to control the spell, she’d decided to give up. Times like this made her rethink that decision.
The ball of light shifted in her periphery. Odessa glanced at it and, in a moment of desperation, called it to her hand. She grabbed it out of the air and, like the skull, stuck it in the apate’s mouth. The being of shadow made a loud, choking sound. She could see something that might have been a tongue, working around the ball in an effort to spit it out. Meanwhile, everywhere the light touched sizzled and burned.
Odessa grinned.
The apate’s distraction allowed her the leeway to slide out from underneath it. She crawled quickly on her hands and knees to where her dagger lay. With the weapon in hand, Odessa gained her feet and turned back to the apate. It was sprawled on its back, clawed hands scraping at its throat. It tore at dark flesh, pulling pieces away that trembled and shook. No matter how deeply it dug into itself, the thing couldn’t seemed to get a good grip on the light ball.
Odessa ambled over to it, pain flaring in her chest and hip. She wasted no time with final words or elaborate movements. The dagger went into the apate smoothly and, within moments, the thing screeched into death. Again, Odessa was left holding the dagger over open air. This time, she was prepared for another attack. She spun around, looking everywhere.
The room was filled with boxes and chests. Storage for Teig’s operation. There were, perhaps, six or seven dead men laying in various unnatural positions. It was hard to tell the exact number with so many dismembered body parts. They had been dead for many days, she thought. The stench of them was nearly overwhelming.
Odessa called the light to rest over her head again. Then, she sheathed the dagger and let the ferocity of the fight seep out of her body. She thought briefly about trying to do something with the bodies. How could she explain herself? What would she say about how she came to find them? Oh, I was just wandering the Lower City and found Teig’s quarter destroyed and all his men dead. People were already suspicious of her. If she wanted to keep working in Lossarnach, she couldn’t afford to be the subject of more gossip.
She left the quarter quietly, using the darkness afforded to her by the broken mirrors to climb back to the surface without drawing attention. As she had before, Odessa used a meandering route to get back to her cottage. She slunk through alleys and back streets until she was sure no one was watching or following.
When she was safely inside the cottage, Odessa peeled away her clothes to find her chest and side splotched with bruising. Her cheek was swollen where the apate hit her. The skin hadn’t split, but there would be an unsightly mark for a few days until her body healed. Her leg pained her and the headache she felt in the alley had grown until it pounded against the inside of her skull. She thought about pouring a glass of wine, but she was too tired.
Odessa laid down on her bed, still wearing her boots. She passed into unconsciousness thinking that she’d now killed three apate in just a few months. More than she’d killed in years. Something was drawing them out into the open, and Odessa was going to figure out what.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count: ~3,800
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
Read on AO3 Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Masterlist
The entire city was buzzing with excitement. Odessa included. She waited next to the gate, watching people file out into what used to be an open field. Odessa had to give Lord Ertan credit. He’d thrown together a small arena, complete with seating, in only a few weeks. Far faster than anyone anticipated.
Two stories high, the arena was made of wood harvested from the nearby forest. The sounds of saws and hammers outside the wall was so constant that it felt strange not to hear it now. The arena was surrounded by tents for the lords and their champions to rest and relax in along with just about every stall from the open market. For the next five days, Lossarnach would exist almost exclusively outside the city.
Heavy footfalls walking in concert signaled the arrival of a lord to the gates. Odessa looked up to find Lord Tivan’s banner waving above a group of fifteen guards. They surrounded a small group of people. She recognized Elenna among them. Her brown hair was pulled up into an intricate braid with ribbons sewn throughout. The colors were reflective of the banner flying above and they matched the heavy fabric of her dress.
Elenna found Odessa standing near the gate and waved her over. “This is the biggest spectacle I have ever seen!” she cried.
Odessa believed her. Elenna’s face was bright and flushed. Her eyes danced with merriment, eager to see what awaited her at the arena. It was the same eagerness Odessa saw on almost every face around.
The guards guided them through the gates and out of the city. Groups of people parted to let them through, although many looked on curiously. Odessa saw whispers hiding behind hands and knew she would hear about the procession later. Before the sun was at its peak, word would spread of Lord Tivan escorting Elenna.
The arena cut through the land, a long rounded circle of wood and metal. Lord Ertan’s banner flew alongside Lord Wystrom’s—lower, of course, but placed prominently near the entrance. There were three sets of arches, two for the combatants to enter and one for the crowd. People pressed in at the crowd’s entrance, hoping to get a glimpse before the guard’s would be allowed to let them through. Lords and ladies, of course, could walk freely into the arena at their leisure.
Moving with so many guards was cumbersome and slow. Odessa had to measure her pace, which exacerbated her impatience. She wanted to see. The guards blocked everything, even the stalls and entertainment surrounding the arena. Odessa cursed her short height while she craned her neck to try to see over the shining armor of the one walking next to her. It was no use. She would have to wait.
Odessa might not be able to look around, but she could look up. The arched doorway to the arena was draped in greenery that folded in and around itself until Odessa couldn’t tell one branch from the next. She was inundated with the scent of pine and freshly cut wood. On the other side of the arch, the morning sun peeked through the open air, bouncing off the packed earth floor.
People were milling around. Mostly servants. Some lords and ladies were already in their boxes, seeing and being seen together. Each box was placed on the second tier of seating so that its occupants could have a better view. Small banners hung on the railing to indicate where each lord should sit. Odessa hadn’t asked, but she was sure that the boxes were assigned based on the amount of money paid to Lord Ertan for the privilege.
The guards went with them as far as the stairs. Odessa was glad they took posts at the landing. If getting to the arena was cumbersome, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like trying to climb a staircase.
Lord Tivan took Elenna’s hand and they took the steps in tandem. From behind, they looked poised. Elegant. Very much the lord and lady that they were. Odessa kept several steps behind, mimicking the posture of a maid even though no maid would perform their duties in trousers and a tunic.
At the top of the stairs, Lady Hwin and Lord Ciricen waited for them. Lord Ciricen rose to greet Lord Tivan while Lady Hwin perused a selection of fruits from a platter. Lord Tivan helped Elenna into her seat and gave Lord Ciricen a short bow.
“You’re just in time,” Lord Ciricen said. “We have ordered food and drink.”
“How thoughtful,” Elenna replied. She accepted a cup of watered down wine from one of the servants.
Lady Hwin popped a grape into her mouth. “Lord Ertan’s suppliers are very quick. I did not expect to see such a bounty readily available.”
Lord Ciricen and Lord Tivan sat next to their ladies. The conversation revolved around the food and the hope for pastries later. Odessa listened, feeling somewhat awkward hovering nearby. She looked out onto the field, noting a railing that cut the arena in half. The lower level of seating was beginning to fill up with the peasantry. Some of the minor lords had roped off sections for their families.
“Does that servant need something?” Lady Hwin asked.
Odessa realized a beat later that Lady Hwin was talking about her. She knew better than to answer, even though a sharp response was dancing on the tip of her tongue.
Elenna sipped from her cup. “I am required to have a chaperon for outings.”
Lady Hwin laughed. Her head thrown back. Her teeth flashing. “Lady Elenna! I forgot how old fashioned your father is.” She touched Elenna’s arm. “Very well. I will act as your chaperon today.”
Elenna hesitated, her blue-green eyes looking to Odessa for answers Odessa couldn’t give her.
“Shoo.” Lady Hwin waved her hand at Odessa.
She stayed where she was, waiting for Elenna to tell her what she wanted. Elenna shifted uncomfortably on her cushion before giving a short nod. Odessa accepted the permission to leave. She bobbed a curtsy and left the box. She didn’t like the idea of leaving Elenna with Lady Hwin, but she thought Lord Tivan might be able to offer some support. At least she didn’t have to stand in awkward silence the entire day.
Stepping off the staircase was like stepping out of one closed off room and into another. The gentle murmur of conversation became a rumble of voices. Soft floral scents became touched with fresh hay, dirt, and an undercurrent of sweat that she knew would grow more pungent the longer the day went on.
Odessa pushed through the throng of people until she got out of the arena. The first event wouldn’t take place for some time. She could roam around outside and take in the things she missed on the way in.
There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the way the stalls were laid out. Food vendors sat askew to crafts vendors, which sat parallel to musicians busking for coin. It was somehow more noisy than inside the arena. She stopped to watch a juggler toss six colorfully painted balls in the air for a group of small children. He caught them one at a time in his hat before turning it over to reveal the hat was empty. The children cheered with delight and begged him to show them again.
As she walked around the arena’s circumference, Odessa was reminded of a celebration very much like this one. It was a very long time ago, before she was too much a lady to be seen mingling with such a rambunctious crowd. At least, not without a mask.
Carnivale happened only once a year, but it felt like the whole city spent months planning. Elaborate costumes, parades, scavenger hunts, and all the food she would want. A moment of joy that would have to carry her through to the end of Lent.
There were no costumes or masks today, but many were were dressed in their best clothes. Even the children. Odessa chuckled at the way a young mother swept dust from the collar of a boy about ten years old. He was rolling his eyes and complaining about missing the first match, but he held still for her to inspect. She sent him off with a warning to avoid the horses. Odessa was fairly sure he wasn’t listening. He sprinted past her to join his friends next to the competitor’s gates. There, he ducked his head into a huddle of other children so that they could plan their strategy for the day.
She rounded the far end of the arena to find an organized line of retinues stretching out into the field. Each was flying a banner of a different lord. Some of the competitors were sitting on their mounts. Others were standing with a herald. All were wearing armor. Nearby, a man was calling out the current wagers. He took money while his partner wrote everything down on a roll of parchment. Odessa listened to him brag about the current favorite to win the joust.
“Lord Berman’s boy,” he said, “won four events in last year’s tournament up north. His horse is ‘specially bred for speed.”
She didn’t know if any of that was true, but he was convincing enough that several men put money down for Berman. Odessa glanced through the competitors. She picked him easily out among the armored men. His horse was at least two hands taller than the others. The boy was just that. A boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. With curly hair and a square jaw. His nose had been broken at least once. He sat confidently in the saddle. Around him, the other riders looked less experienced despite their age. It was no wonder he was predicted to win.
Odessa was just about to head back into the arena when her attention snagged on an unexpected face. He was standing just outside the densest part of the crowd, beyond the line of vendors. His dark head was tipped back and his eyes were looking up at the arena. The pose exposed the long line of his pale throat, which somehow made him look entirely too vulnerable.
They were only apart for six weeks and it felt like much, much longer. In that time, her thoughts turned to him often. As she stood there, watching him. Odessa realized that she missed him. She missed his serenity. She missed his focused intensity. She missed the way he seemed determined not to smile. And, what was more, Odessa hadn’t realized how much she missed him until he was standing in front of her again.
Lips quirking int o grin, Odessa walked up to Lord Adar and mirrored him. “Its a feat of engineering.”
“I have seen bigger,” he replied dryly.
“Give Lord Ertan some credit. He only had a few weeks to get it built.”
Lord Adar cocked his head to the side. “Is it strong enough to hold so many?”
“I have a feeling we will find out.” She looked at him. “How was your trip?’
“Productive.”
“Did,” she began, “the medicine work?”
He nodded, and she caught a glimmer of happiness in his eyes. “It did.”
Odessa resisted the urge to throw her arms around him in a tight embrace of joy. “That’s good news!”
“It is. I have given order to our best healers to make more. The ingredients are easy enough to find. Except…” he trailed off.
“Except?”
“Sheep tallow. My people do not raise livestock.”
“You’re jesting.”
“I am not.”
Odessa might have laughed, if that situation were not so serious. No tallow meant no medicine. No medicine meant more of his people would die. It was a cruel twist of fate that the ingredient they nearly got themselves killed to get was the same ingredient he could not make for himself.
“Can you...start raising sheep?”
“That would be the simplest solution.”
“I’m sensing a caveat.”
“You sense correctly. Sheep require land. Land I do not have.”
“Ah,” she breathed. “that does make things difficult.”
The man taking wagers called out for final bets. The first event was about to start. As if a horn had been blown, people started milling into the arena.
Odessa gestured to the gates. “Care to distract yourself from your worries for a few hours?”
Lord Adar looked again at the arena with a skeptical expression. “How long did you say it took Lord Ertan to build this?”
She rolled her eyes and offered her hand to him. “He’s built every major structure in the city in the last fifty years. He knows what he’s doing. Come with me.”
After giving the arena one last dubious look, Lord Adar reached for her hand. He looped it over his arm in silent assent. The contact brought forward the pleasing, fuzzy feeling of their auras brushing up against one another. Odessa missed this, too.
Adar guided them around to the gates where the crowd was the thickest. People squeezed through the arch, parting left and right to encircle the field of play. Guards stood on barrels, yelling out orders to keep the masses moving. Their guidance couldn’t keep the people at the back from pressing forward.
She leaned into Lord Adar’s body, intensely aware of how little room there was to move. Lord Ertan might have been able to pull off a relative miracle to build the arena, but he either hadn’t planned on or hadn’t cared about how many everyday citizens would want to see the show. Uncomfortable and anxious, Odessa looked around for an escape.
“Rune!” Odessa called out. She waved to get his attention. “A little help, please!”
He saw her and gave a short nod. “Alright, move along. You, step back. You, to the side.”
Rune urged Odessa forward. “Here. Here!” If he was surprised to see Lord Adar at her side, he didn’t how it. “This way.”
There was a narrow section that sat behind the rail. It was elevated a step or two above the ground with access to the lords’ balconies above, acting as a pass for servants to move freely between levels.
Rune gestured to a small bench. “Its the best I can do.”
Lord Adar helped Odessa to sit. She looked up at Rune gratefully. “This is perfect. Thank you.”
Rune bounced on his feet. “Would have thought you’d be up with Lady Elenna.”
“I got kicked out,” Odessa replied. Then, because Rune’s face grew ashen, she added, “Chaperons aren’t needed up there.”
“Oh,” Rune blurted with a nervous laugh. “Good. I mean, not good you got kicked out. I meant…”
Odessa held up a hand to still his words. “I know what you meant.”
“Well,” he breathed. His eyes flicked to Lord Adar, who hadn’t yet taken a seat. “Enjoy the day. Glad to see you back, my lord.”
Lord Adar dipped his head and Rune rushed back to his post. Odessa shook her head ruefully and drew in a cleansing breath. She would have tolerated the push and pull of all the bodies at the railing, but she was glad she didn’t have to.
Odessa patted the bench. “There’s room to sit, if you wish.”
Lord Adar hesitated for barely a single heartbeat, then move to sit beside her. They passed a minute or two observing a group of people filling the nearest section of railing.
“Have you ever been to a tournament?” she asked.
“I have,” he answered. “Although it has been many years. Have you?”
Odessa hummed lightly. “Not for,” she stopped herself from saying ‘decades’, “many years.”
Ten minutes in his presence and she was already forgetting the rules. Again. What was it about him that made her so loose lipped?
“Lord Wystrom is generous to provide such entertainment.”
Odessa sniffed. “He isn’t, actually. This is Lord Ciricen’s tournament.”
“Oh?”
“How he got it approved, I’ll never know.”
Lord Adar regarded her with interest. “What do you mean?”
Odessa gestured to where Lord Ciricen was sitting. He was talking with Lord Tivan while Lady Hwin and Elenna sat watching the audience. “He spurned Lord Wystrom’s only child. And then he has the audacity to ask to hold a tournament.”
He peered at Lord Ciricen’s box. “Perhaps Lord Wystrom gains something by allowing it.”
“What could he possibly gain that is worth rubbing his daughter’s face in a public embarrassment?”
Lord Adar allowed her question with a soft sound in the back of his throat. “The politics of managing a city with as many competing lords as Lossarnach is complicated.”
She shot him a look. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
He blew a breath through his nose. “Not experience. Not directly. But, I have observed how powerful people work to manipulate or control nations.”
“Now you sound a little bitter. I’m guessing your observations weren’t positive.”
“Not always.”
There was a mountain of meaning beneath his answer. It was a mountain Odessa wasn’t sure she could scale without taking a fall. Thankfully, a horn blew, signaling the start of the joust.
A herald walked to the center of the packed dirt floor and spoke in a loud voice. “Welcome! Welcome! Welcome to the first day of the tournament. We thank you for coming to celebrate our champions!” He waited a moment to allow for the applause to die down. “We also thank Lord Ciricen for bringing them here to compete!”
In his box, Lord Ciricen rose and offered a genteel wave to the crowd. Odessa’s lip curled and her nails dug into her palms with the urge to punch him.
“Today’s event,” the herald continued, “is the joust. Ten competitors...one champion!”
A roar of applause rose up to meet his vigorous words. The announcement of the first two names was drowned in the yell of the people at the rails. Odessa craned her neck to see the two armored men line up on opposite sides of the arena. Their horses stamped the earth, spurred on by the noise. A boy walked out to the middle of the ring and held up a flag. He paused briefly, then dropped the flag and rushed away. Hooves beat against the earth. People cried out in roaring cheers. Lances struck armor. It was over in a matter of seconds, and yet Odessa’s heart continued to beat a hard rhythm.
“Well,” she said, “that was exciting.”
“It was safe.”
Odessa lifted her brows at him. “Safe?”
“They are wearing full armor. The risk to their bodies is minimal.”
“I have to point out,” she said in a dry tone, “that you are also wearing armor. That you wear it constantly.”
Lord Adar was not put off by her pointed words. “I have lived in war for far longer than I have lived in peace.”
“You are in no danger here,” Odessa murmured softly.
His eyes danced with merriment. “I suppose I am not—if I can keep away from the caves.”
“That was your plan,” she blurted in mock offense.
“I wanted to steal it from the cook. You said Teig was the better target.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
Odessa made a short, shocked sound of outrage. “Well, we got the tallow, right?”
“Yes,” he replied, humor creeping into his tone, “my plan worked.”
“Your plan concluded with a massive fire and both of us running for our lives.”
His shoulders lifted in a very casual shrug. “Details.”
She leveled a direct look at him. “Details where we had to run for our lives.”
Another round of the joust began. Odessa recognized the Berman boy’s armor. Unlike the horses of some of the other competitors, his mount stood nearly still. The flicking of its ears was the only detectable movement until its rider urged it into place.
“I heard that one is the favorite to win.”
Lord Adar looked on with interest. “The horse he is riding was bred in Rohan.”
She turned to look at him with a frown. “How do you know that?”
“The Rohirrim brand their mounts beneath the ear. Look.”
Odessa squinted and found the small patch of hair missing beneath the horse’s ear. “I did not know that.”
“It is a practice that fell out of popularity a long time ago. Evidently, some still adhere to it.”
“Evidently,” she murmured.
The flag dropped and Berman’s boy raced forward to meet his opponent. His lance hit with such force that the wood splintered, unhorsing the rider. The arena erupted with howls of excitement. Fists shot into the air and hands clapped loudly. She could see people hugging or patting each other on the back. The Berman boy acknowledged all of this with a wave to his supporters.
“I can see why he’s the favorite. The boy is skilled.”
“Indeed,” Lord Adar said.
She caught the doubt in his tone. “You don’t agree?”
“The horse is doing most of the work.”
“I didn’t realize you were such an expert in tournament games.”
Lord Adar ticked his head to the side. “As I said, I have been at war a long time.” He gestured to the ring. “This is...practice for battle.”
Odessa considered it. “I think you’re right.”
They watched the rest of the day’s jousting, making conversation intermittently. Berman’s competitors did, indeed, become the champion. He accepted a pouch of coin from Lord Ciricen and was almost immediately swallowed up by people cheering for him afterwards.
Odessa and Lord Adar walked back to the city, avoiding the occasional reenactment of the day’s game. The late afternoon air was filled with excited voices. She didn’t have to cast out her senses to know that the threads binding Lossarnach together were strengthened considerably. Joy and laughter were all around. Odessa deeply enjoyed the feeling.
“Will you be at tomorrow’s event?” She asked. “I’m told it will be archery.”
Lord Adar shook his head. “I need to meet with Lord Wystrom.”
“Ah,” she replied. “More secret meetings.”
“The meetings are not secret.”
“Sure, they’re not.”
He looked mildly affronted. “I am not hiding that I am meeting with him.”
“Uh huh.” She pointed a finger at him. “That’s why you meet at night.
Lord Adar breathed in and out, as if he were being very patient with her. “We meet at night because his schedule is full with the other lords.”
Odessa considered letting the subject drop, but she found that she was enjoying needling him. “You’re a lord, you know.”
“Yes,” he replied, “but not one of his lords. I do not take precedence over the landowners in Lossarnach.”
“The lords will be glad to hear that.”
“They should be,” he replied, all confidence. “I am rarely so generous.”
She looked up at him as they passed through the gates into the city. “You seem pretty generous to me.”
“Do I?”
“You do.”
They turned from the stables to the open market where people gathered together in large groups. It seemed that no one was ready to go home just yet. A few of the stalls opened, selling food and wine. The thoroughfare became a large fete. Odessa purchased wine for herself and an ale for Lord Adar. They leaned against a building to watch some musicians perform. As night fell, the city swelled with song.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count: ~2,600
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
Read on AO3 Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Masterlist
Odessa was glad she wore one of her better dresses. Everyone at the Tea House was wearing such finery that, had she chosen something simpler, would have made her stand out. The room was large and airy, with floor to ceiling windows that let in bright beams of sunlight. Every surface was covered in white. White painted walls. White tablecloths. White marble tile. Odessa’s red dress might have been a better choice than a tunic, but she thought it stood out a little too well against the décor.
She was seated next to Elenna at a table near the window. Across from them, Lord Tivan poured tea from a large, silver pot. He’d ordered an assortment of sandwiches and cakes, each a tiny work of art placed delicately onto a similarly sized plate. In front of her, there was a complete place setting. The golden cutlery was for show. She would only need the small spoon to scoop bites of cake and mousse. The sandwiches were so delicate they could be politely held with no more than three fingers.
Nearly every table was full. Ladies and the occasional lord sat, observing every formality while they sipped at hot tea. Wine and ale were strictly forbidden. The conversation never rose above a soft hum and every eye moved across the room to observe the goings on at every other table. No one went to the Tea House to eat. They went to observe and be observed.
Odessa was bored senseless. To her left, Elenna appeared to be in a similar state. She might love to wear her best dress and braid flowers into her hair, but the formality required for the Tea House did little to keep her occupied. She was doing a good job of hiding it from Lord Tivan by busying herself with choosing a sandwich and arranging her cup.
“My housekeeper will be in the city this afternoon,” Lord Tivan said as he set the pot down.
Elenna made a soft, interested sound.
“I can arrange a meeting tomorrow. After, we could walk the gardens.”
Her hand flinched over her plate. “I will be happy to meet with your housekeeper.” She paused. Then, added, “I walk the gardens almost every day.”
The implication was clear. If you want to see me, choose something else.
Lord Tivan responded quickly. “Of course.” He reached for a sandwich. “I have made other plans, if you wish.”
Odessa narrowed her gaze at him. He anticipated Elenna wouldn’t want to walk the gardens and had already made arrangements to do something else. Something he thought Elenna would want to do more.
“What other plans?” Elenna asked with genuine curiosity.
Lord Tivan met Elenna’s gaze evenly. “Do you like music?”
“I do.”
He gave a short nod. “Any particular type of music.”
Elenna studied Lord Tivan’s face. Odessa could see the flippant response on the tip of her tongue. Elenna surprised Odessa by saying, “I’m fond of stringed instruments.”
Lord Tivan nodded again. “Good. I have guessed correctly.”
“Guessed what correctly?”
Elenna looked entirely confused and intrigued by Lord Tivan’s line of conversation. Odessa had to admit that she was confused and intrigued, too.
He leaned forward, his gaze just a hair short of playful. “I have arranged for a string quartet to give a short performance tomorrow evening. I thought...dinner and music would be an enjoyable way to pass the time.”
Odessa looked down at the napkin in her lap. He was just a farmer. Yet, there was a reason ‘just a farmer’ had as much land as he did. Odessa was just beginning to see what that reason might be. She suspected Elenna was also beginning to see, as well.
“That would be acceptable,” Elenna said.
Lord Tivan’s smiled a very pleased smile and picked up the pot. “More?”
As he poured, Odessa caught movement at the entrance. Her heart dropped into her stomach and she looked at Elenna just in time to see her realize that Lady Hwin was standing with Lord Ciricen. He was speaking with the staff, probably asking about a table. A maid stood demurely behind the pair, her eyes down.
Their wedding announcement swept through the city, overcoming all the talk about Teig and the fire at Brint’s. Odessa overheard several women discussing what Lady Fern might put together on her daughter’s behalf. Lady Hwin hadn’t been seen since the announcement, which stirred yet another round of gossip about what she might be doing. No one seemed to be able to gather anything concrete, and that made people try harder to be the first to know. Someone even tried to bribe one of the coachmen for information.
The staff at the door waved a hand to indicate that they should be followed. Lord Ciricen guided Lady Hwin with a hand on her arm. She was wearing a stunning dress of silver with silver embroidery. The bird motif flowed from the bottom up. A flock taking flight. Beside her, Lord Ciricen was wearing a matching tunic. The pair moved as one, heads held high, knowing that they were being watched by every eye in the room.
To Odessa’s consternation, they were being led directly past Elenna. She grit her teeth, wondering how much Lord Ciricen had put into the staff’s hand to make this little entrance.
“Lady Elenna,” Lady Hwin exclaimed, as if she hadn’t been expecting to see her. “What a pleasure it is to see you.”
Elenna tipped her head back to regard her one-time rival. “Lady Hwin. Lord Ciricen. Out for lunch?”
“Just stopping in for some refreshment,” Lady Hwin replied.
“You have met Lord Tivan, I’m sure.” Elenna gestured elegantly across the table.
It would have been polite for Lord Tivan to stand and take Lady Hwin’s hand. He didn’t. What he did do was regard Lady Hwin with a politely neutral expression. His words were directed to Lord Ciricen.
“I hear Lord Wystrom has granted you a tournament.”
Lord Ciricen’s smile was almost shocked. “He has. Tell me, where did you hear that? I have not even made the announcement.”
Lord Tivan’s expression remained in place. “Your valet is having an affair with a serving girl. She happens to be my housekeeper’s cousin.”
“Ah,” Lord Ciricen breathed. “Well, there is no use denying it, then.”
Lady Hwin moved closer to him. “It is so exciting. The first tournament in years.” She paused, as if an idea had just come to her. “You must sit with us. My Lord Ciricen, he must sit with us.”
Lord Ciricen smiled, as if he were used to indulging her whims. “Of course. If he wishes.”
Lord Tivan shifted minutely. The movement pulled his eyes out of Lord Ciricen’s shadow. They caught the sunlight with icy determination. “Of course. I will be happy to sit with you. As long as I can bring my escort.”
Beside Odessa, Elenna’s breath hitched. Her hand, hidden by the tablecloth, gripped her napkin tightly.
“I would be terribly bored without her,” Lord Tivan added. His eyes flicked to Elenna. “She makes even the most mundane experiences more exciting.”
Lord Ciricen visibly hesitated. The gossip around his dalliance with Lady Elenna recently slowed down. If he were seen sitting in the same box as her and Lady Hwin, the fire would not only be lit anew, but would likely blaze into an uncontrolled blaze.
“Lady Elenna is welcome to sit with us,” he said, with effort, “of course.”
Lord Tivan let the silence after that sentence hang. He kept his attention on Elenna, waiting for her to respond. The playfulness was back in his eyes, giving a soft glint to the otherwise nondescript brown.
Elenna rose to Lord Tivan’s unspoken challenge. “That would be lovely.”
“Lovely,” Lady Hwin repeated. “We will see you there. Now, shall we go to our table?”
“Lead the way, dear,” Lord Ciricen replied.
No one at the table said anything until the couple was seated. Thankfully, they were seated out of earshot.
“Odious man,” Lord Tivan murmured. “The gall of holding a tournament so soon after the frost.”
Elenna smoothed her napkin over her lap. “Perhaps he wants to lift spirits in the city.”
“There are less expensive ways to achieve that goal.” He sipped his tea. “Ways that take more care with the taxes paid to Lord Wystrom.”
“Are there not entry fees?” Elenna asked with a speculative glance.
Lord Tivan scoffed. “A pittance when compared to the food, the entertainment, and the construction of an arena.”
“You find tournaments a waste of money, then?” Elenna’s words were light, but her eyes were direct.
“No.” He shook his head. “A tournament has its place. That place is not in the year following the near destruction of every field in the region. Not when we have barely recovered from the loss of…life.”
He was right, and Elenna knew it. As Lord Wystrom’s daughter, she played a huge part in providing whatever aid was necessary while people starved to death for lack of food. Elenna never talked about it, but Odessa had seen her crying outside the healing house on several occasions.
“I should apologize,” Lord Tivan said. “I have ruined the mood of our outing.”
Elenna reached over and put her hand over his. “No. You are right to be concerned. I will speak with my father about limiting the funds for the tournament to something appropriate and...conscientious of our troubles.”
Lord Tivan smiled. “You are kind.”
“It is my duty,” she replied. Elenna straightened and said, “I tire of sandwiches. Have you been to the market? I heard there are fresh plums. Shall we get one?”
Odessa followed the pair out of the Tea House and down the lane towards the open market. She noted that Elenna let Lord Tivan link his arm with hers and that he walked as close to her as her skirts allowed. They found the stand with the plums easily. There was quite a line of people waiting—so many that the boy working the stall would only sell one to a person.
She stood far enough back so that she wasn’t blocking the line while keeping sight of Elenna. They were in public, so her role as a chaperon was more of a formality. Odessa’s job was to be seen keeping watch. When they were done with the open market, she would walk Elenna back to the keep where she would see to it that she made it back to her rooms. Alone. Then, she would hand the duty of chaperon off to a maid.
Her day after that was free. She could do whatever she wanted. The problem was that what she wanted to do was nothing. Her duty, however, was to keep hunting down the apate. Weeks of nightly hunts were becoming increasingly more frustrating as she trudged back to her cottage without success. The apate avoided even the call of a lure. Odessa was very near ready to give up.
She stepped to the side of the line and went up to the next stall over. She waited for the attention of the woman behind it and picked up a bottle of wine. It would be her treat for going out again that night.
As she paid, the woman leaned forward and said, “A fair light shines tonight.”
Odessa nodded and handed over some coins. “It is a star in the East, but I will not see it.”
She hadn’t gone to the hollow since she talked with Russ. Music and conversation held no interest for her. When she turned around, Elenna was behind her. The plum in her hand had a bite taken out of it. She was chewing thoughtfully while Lord Tivan looked on with an affectionate smile.
“I like it,” she pronounced.
“I’m glad.”
“Odessa, would you like to try it?” Elenna held the plum out to her.
“No, thank you.” Odessa held up the bottle. “I’ll have my own snack later.”
Elenna shrugged and went back to eating her plum. Lord Tivan walked with her as far as the shops before excusing himself. He had an appointment with another lord to keep. Elenna thanked him for the afternoon and said she was looking forward to their time the following evening.
When he was gone, she turned to Odessa. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“The little poem in the market.”
Odessa frowned. “What poem in the market?”
Elenna tossed the plum pit into a patch of grass with a frustrated scoff. “Between you and the girl at the stall. You said there were stars.”
“Oh,” Odessa replied. “Its a...well, I’m surprised you don’t know it. She was telling me that there will be a meeting at the hollow tonight.”
“Hollow?” Elenna’s brows drew together in genuine confusion.
Odessa nodded. “Its just a place in the woods where people go to spend some time away from the city.”
Elenna took Odessa’s arm while they walked. “What do they do? Sit? Talk?”
“Yes. Sometimes there is music. Usually, there is wine or ale.”
“Why not do all that within the safety of the walls?”
The girl had a point. Odessa could admit that. “Sometimes...people need to feel like they are taking a risk, even if its not much of a risk at all. The hollow is still close enough to the wall that they could reach it if something happened.”
If, for example, a warg appeared.
Elenna’s mouth pouted while she considered Odessa’s explanation. “I want to go to the hollow.”
“Elenna,” Odessa drawled with censure, “its not meant for ladies.”
“Still,” she said, “I want to go. Can we go tonight?”
“Absolutely not,” Odessa blurted.
“Why?”
“I can’t steal away with Lord Wystrom’s daughter.”
“You would not be stealing away. I would be joining you.”
“That is going to make no difference to your father.”
Elenna looked half a second away from stamping her foot. “Fine.”
They reached the crossroads. Odessa smiled at Elenna as she said, “Can I trust you to get back inside safely, or are you planning to run off to the woods?”
Elenna rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine.” Then, she added, “Will you come to the tournament?”
“I haven’t been invited.”
“I’m inviting you.”
“Then, I will come.”
Elenna nodded. “Thank you. I cannot believe I will have to deal with that snake, Hwin, all afternoon.”
“Several afternoons, likely,” Odessa replied. “Tournaments take days.”
“Oh, no,” Elenna whined. “At least Lord Tivan will be there. He can distract me.”
“I think the tournament, itself, will be a distraction.”
“Have you been?” Elenna asked, “To a tournament, I mean.”
Odessa nodded. “Several. All very exciting.”
“Well, I guess it will be alright. If its exciting enough.”
“Believe me, it will be plenty exciting. Lots of young men will be showing off their skills for their lords. And, there will be music and plays and more food than anyone can eat.”
Elenna paused, her brow furrowed. “I can see what Lord Tivan meant about the expense.”
“He had a good point,” Odessa allowed.
“I wonder how Lord Ciricen convinced my father to hold the tournament if it will cost so much.”
Odessa shrugged. “That’s between Lord Ciricen and your father.”
Elenna shot her a flat look. “And me. He will tell me.”
“Yes,” Odessa replied. “I’m sure he will.”
She left Elenna at the crossroads, walking up the path with her bottle wine. While she walked, she allowed her thoughts to turn to Lord Adar. Odessa wondered if the medicine worked. Even if it hadn't, he still had reason to come back to the city. The only question was when.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count: ~2,200
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
Read on AO3 Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Masterlist
Odessa used the hook to catch the thread and pull it through the loop. She let a bead fall over the hook and pushed it through an open space to catch the next stitch. Another bead, another loop, another stitch. She shifted on the blanket to get the blood back in her legs and went back to working the beads into the thread. The pouch at her side was nearly half empty and she only had a small section done.
Brint’s shop was running the same as it always did, although he kept water on hand at all times. She heard he ordered new doors from the carpenter and he made a rule about not leaving the youngest apprentices alone. The gossip around the fire was steady—everyone loved a mystery. Whenever someone asked Odessa what happened, she told them she didn’t know. A truth and a lie.
The apate hadn’t shown its face again since it threw itself off the cliff. That didn’t meant it wasn’t sneaking around. Odessa kept her senses tuned towards every inkling of dread, waiting for the moment it would strike again. Every morning, she walked the city, hunting for her enemy. Every afternoon, she sat in her yard and worked on the dress until the sun was too low to see. Just as it was now.
Odessa put the project into a small basket and closed up the pouch. She carried the basket and blanket into the cottage and put them on her worktable. Then, she checked that her dagger was secure in her boot and went out again. She began to walk the same path she’d walked for several days. The workshops. The stores. The stables. The healing house. The keep. The gardens. And, finally, the open market.
Several hours later, Odessa leaned against a building near the market’s entrance and suppressed the urge to scream. The hunt was fruitless. Again. If she were being honest, it wasn’t just the apate’s evasion that was ruining her mood. A gloom hung over her day after day. No matter what she did, she couldn’t shake it off. If it weren’t for her little project and the hunt, Odessa would spend most of her time laying around in bed.
Odessa had to get out of this rut. It wasn’t doing her any good to skulk around the city. She turned her attention outwards, looking for something that might lift her spirits. There were a few stalls with food and drink nearby. Fresh bread and wine held no interest. Maylen’s was open, but Odessa didn’t feel like sitting alone and nursing a drink. Not when she could go back to the cabin and do the same thing in a less public setting.
A whistle caught her attention. Odessa didn’t recognize the song, but she did recognize the man doing the whistling. He walked with an easy jaunt in her direction, blond hair flopping over his forehead. Instead of his usual uniform, he was wearing a green tunic, brown trousers, and freshly shined boots.
“Rune!” Odessa called out.
He looked up, startled. When he found her walking towards him, he offered a short bow. “Lady Odessa.”
“Not on duty tonight?” she asked.
His answer was somewhat hesitant. He bounced a little on his feet, as if he was eager to keep moving. “...no.”
Odessa cocked her head to the side. “Going somewhere important?”
Rune’s eyes flicked around and he ducked down to say in a low voice, “A fair light shines tonight.”
She smiled knowingly. “It is a star in the East.”
He returned he smile and nodded quickly. Suddenly, Odessa knew exactly how to get rid of her ill mood. “Should we go together?”
Rune offered her a gallant arm. “I will be happy to escort you.”
On the way to the wall, Odessa asked, “How are things in the keep?”
“Busy.”
“Oh?”
Rune took a breath. “Lord Wystrom has many meetings.”
“I’m sure he does,” Odessa allowed. “He is the ruling lord.”
“Of course.”
“And,” she added, “I’m sure there are a great many things that require his attention.”
He made a noise that sounded almost like the squawk of an incensed chicken. Odessa looked up to find Rune’s ears turning a bright red.
“What was that?”
Rune shook his head. He refused to look at her.
Odessa poked his arm. “Seriously. What was that?”
Rune shook his head again. His steps became more deliberate, as if he could physically lead her away from the topic.
“Tell me,” she prompted in a cajoling tone. “I promise I’ll keep it secret.”
Rune’s mouth twisted and his face turned even more red. Odessa kept from smiling and waited patiently. She would get answers in short order. Meanwhile, she kept walking with him past the shops. They were mostly closed at this time of evening, but the sidewalks were peppered with people. A lot of them were moving in the same direction as Odessa and Rune.
“Lord Wystrom has been troubled,” Rune said, eventually.
There it is, she thought.
“What about?”
He tipped his head from side to side. “He says that he has been too lenient. Let too much pass by his notice.”
Odessa stepped down onto the path leading along the wall. “What does that mean?”
The path was narrow, forcing Rune to walk a step behind her. “You heard what happened to Teig?”
She was glad he couldn’t see her face. Odessa could not conceal her worries about who got to Teig after she was done with him. The mysterious man he mentioned before she took his eyes, no doubt. “I heard.”
“Lord Wystrom believes there is a rival faction in the city. He believes they led the attack on Teig’s cave and later killed him.”
He’s half correct, she thought.
The cliff rose up to their right. If she focused hard, she could just see the roof of her cottage peeking out from the crest. The path opened up to the meadow and they were surrounded on all sides by flowers.
“Lord Wystrom is considering implementing a curfew until the rival gang members are found and arrested. He wants no one to be out after sunset.”
Odessa scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Some taverns don’t even open until dark.”
Rune made a sound that said he agreed with her. “I have been...concerned by how zealous he has been with the other lords about it.”
“What do the other lords say?”
“Their opinions are mixed.”
Odessa threw him a look over her shoulder. “Mixed? Half of them own the taverns.”
Rune shrugged. “And, half of that half had dealings with Teig. His murder has made a lot of people nervous.”
Odessa definitely fell into the group of nervous people. Some her anxiety stemmed from the fact that she hadn’t yet caught the apate hiding in the city. Another party was due to the consistent looks she received as she moved among the people. Ridder warned her that she was being considered a bad omen. It was only now that Odessa began to believe him.
She opened the hidden door and walked through it. As she passed from one side of the wall to the other, the low sunlight became deep night. The path was covered in sweetly scented shadows. Ahead, she could see a lantern bobbing. Odessa followed it.
“Do you think he will actually do it?”
“Enforce the curfew?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Really?’
“Yes.”
Odessa moved around a turn. “You’re awfully certain.”
“I have guarded a lot of meetings. Lord Wystrom is becoming more certain with every one. Especially after the last one.”
The hollow was just up ahead. A fire had already been started. The path widened and Odessa let Rune fall into step with her. “Last one?”
“Lord Ertan kept him in the meeting room for three and a half hours,” Rune said. “I thought my legs would go numb standing there.”
Odessa lifted her brows at him with interest. “What did they discuss?”
“The new gate, mostly. Lord Ertan believes Lossarnach should add a watchtower to keep an eye on the woods and river.”
“What,” Odessa asked, “does that have to do with the curfew?”
Rune lowered he voice. They were very close to the hollow and could hear a low drone of conversation. “He says that the city has to purge itself of villainy.”
She laughed. “Did he actually use the word villainy?”
“He did.”
“That is...dramatic.”
Rune looked very much like he agreed. “Lord Ertan is passionate.”
“Passionate enough to sway Lord Wystrom?”
“It would appear so.”
The hollow was sparsely filled. Rune guided Odessa over to a group of men and women who were sitting together. One of the women made room for her on the stone. Rune gave her a meaningful look and sat down beside Odessa. She didn’t know anyone around her, but didn’t seem to matter. They were perfectly fine ignoring her while they caught up on the latest gossip.
“Did you hear about Lord Ciricen?” One of the women asked.
Another woman leaned in with interest. “No. What happened?”
“He was spotted at the jeweler yesterday with Lady Hwin. He bought her the most beautiful necklace. Sapphires, I heard.”
“She is so lucky.”
“She would be more lucky if he would propose. Its been almost a year.”
Odessa frowned. The dinner party was only a few months ago. He spent time with Elenna afterwards. Lots of time. Time he spent writing her poetry, taking walks, implying that he was available for marriage. She knew she didn’t like that man.
“Hey, Rune, what’s the latest at the keep?” This came from one of the men.
Rune gave a shrug. He managed to keep his ears from turning pink this time. “Nothing.”
“Ah, I know that’s not true.”
A woman, the one who pronounced Lady Hwin as ‘lucky’ touched the man’s arm. “Leave him, Roald.”
Roald rolled his eyes. “Why? He has to know something?” He swatted at Rune’s arm. “What happened at Maylen’s?”
Rune shook his head. “I was not involved with the raid on the brothel.”
“But, you know about it.”
“I know as much as you do.”
Roald pointed at Rune. “You know why they did it.”
Odessa could see the struggle in Rune’s eyes. If he told his friends what was actually going on in the keep, word would get around very fast. If it got back around to Lord Wystrom, he would lose his job.
She made a quick decision to intervene and pointed across the hollow. “Looks like Quentin is about to start. Has anyone heard his latest song?”
The conversation spun off into a discussion about Quentin’s lyrical prose. Odessa caught Rune’s grateful look at winked at him. It was the least she could do.
More people arrived from the path. Odessa saw Russ’ head bobbing above the others. He was walking with a slight limp and there was still some bruising around his eye. Odessa had to take a breath to calm the resurgence of her guilt. Teig had been dealt with—by her own hand by someone who came along after Odessa. She waffled about whether or not she wanted to find out who.
Russ might not like her very much right now, but Odessa made him a promise. Shoring up her courage, she stood and went over to Russ. He saw her coming and a muscle ticked in his jaw. Odessa pushed down her reticence and kept walking.
“Listen,” she said, “I know you don’t want to talk to me.”
Russ looked pointedly away.
She almost rolled her eyes. She was trying to make an offer and he was being childish. Odessa wasn’t sure that she could blame him, given that he’d taken the brunt of the consequences for her behavior. She straightened her shoulders and tried again.
“We had an agreement. And, I still have an introduction to make. If you want me to.”
Odessa stopped talking and waited. And waited. Russ’ eyes were on Quentin as he strummed the first few chords. He had yet to acknowledge that she was even talking to him. Odessa wiggled her toes to stem off the nervous energy. It would be fine if he didn’t want her help. She hoped he did, but it would be fine if he didn’t.
Russ eventually pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “Fine.”
Odessa tried to look a little less surprised. “Fine?”
“Yes,” Russ replied. “Fine. I’ll take the introduction.”
He turned from her to watch Quentin play. Odessa felt the rejection like a physical, bodily push. She stepped back and looked around for Rune. He was standing with his friends, laughing and talking. Someone brought a bottle of wine that they were passing around. Rune looked...happy. Relaxed. So did everyone around him. She scanned the clearing, taking in the smiling faces and the hum of conversation.
Odessa had the sudden feeling that she didn’t belong here. As much as she wanted to know other people, and to be known in return, it was a fool’s errand. The bruising on Russ’ face was clear evidence that things went wrong when she got too close. Why hadn’t she taken the lesson to heart?
She walked away from Russ and caught Rune’s eye. Odessa lifted a hand in farewell and ignored the way Rune’s brows drew together in confusion. She left the hollow feeling heavy and tired. Quentin’s sorrowful melody followed her into the dark.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count: 2,600
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
Read on AO3 Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Masterlist
“You’re just in time,” Rutinia called out.
Odessa held up the ribbon. “I thought my fingers would start bleeding, but I got it done.”
She met Rutinia at the desk and handed over the bundle. Rutinia unrolled it along the desk’s length and ran her fingers over the stitching. Odessa tried not to show how closely she was watching the seamstress evaluate her work.
“Lady Hwin will be pleased,” Rutinia pronounced. She began to roll up the ribbon. “Which is fortunate because she will be here any second for her fitting.”
Odessa shook her head. “I don’t envy you.”
“For what she’s paying,” Rutinia replied, “I’ll happily drape as many pleats as she wants. Speaking of which, let me get your payment. I’ll need to go to the safe. Be just a moment.”
“Take your time.”
While she waited for Rutinia to come back, Odessa wandered around the store. The stock was somewhat low. Just one or two racks of dresses. Near the window was a hat stand. Hats weren’t popular among the women of Lossarnach, except for when the weather was especially cold. Rutinia sold nearly every hat she had last year, but the ones on the stand specks of dust resting on them.
The door opened and Lady Hwin floated in with her mother, Lady Fern. Both were wearing dresses in the Lossarnach style. Lady Hwin’s was a soft pink with mauve accents. It was a noted contrast to Lady Fern’s deep green. Lady Hwin walked up to the desk ahead of her mother. Neither noticed Odessa standing by the window.
“Rutinia!” Lady Hwin called out. Her voice rang out sweetly, like the chime of a bell.
“One minute!” Rutinia called back.
Lady Fern sighed loudly and touched her hair. It was pinned atop her head in a mass of white blonde curls. “Let’s hope we get through this fitting quickly.”
Lady Hwin kept her eyes forward. “It will take as long as it takes, mother.”
“We have an appointment to keep.”
“Yes, I know. You have reminded me six times this morning.”
“Its afternoon, now, dear.”
“Of course.”
Lady Fern brushed her fingers against a pair of satin slippers on the counter. “Lord Ertan will be upset if we are late.”
“I will be surprised if Lord Ertan is on time. His meetings with Lord Wystrom are notoriously long.”
Lady Hwin’s voice was very serene. She stood still with her back straight and her hands folded delicately in front of her. She didn’t shift her weight, didn’t sigh irritably, and she certainly didn’t frown in the direction of the back room as her mother was doing. When Rutinia turned the corner with a pouch jingling her hand, Lady Hwin offered a soft, polite smile.
“We are here for our appointment.”
Rutinia nodded. “Of course. Let me just get this to Odessa and I’ll take you to the back.”
Two pairs of identically blue eyes turned to Odessa at the same time. She smiled awkwardly and met Rutinia by the counter with an outstretched hand. Rutinia dropped the pouch into Odessa palm. It was heavy with coin, which was exactly what she needed.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll likely have something for you in the next few days.” Rutinia subtly nodded to the ladies at her left.
“I’ll come by the shop” Odessa replied. To Lady Hwin, she said, “Enjoy your fitting.”
“Thank you,” Lady Hwin replied, the two words coming out more like reflex than actual gratitude.
Lady Fern was silent, although she did give Odessa a short nod. As she walked out of Rutinia’s shop, she let herself wonder if Lady Fern was arrested that night at Maylen’s, and if that was why she was meeting with Lord Ertan. No. That couldn’t be the case. Lord Ertan was a builder. An architect. Not a politician. Perhaps she was looking to add a wing to her house now that Lady Hwin was marrying Lord Ciricen. The announcement still hadn’t been made, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time. Odessa heard they went riding a few days ago. Someone saw them sitting on a blanket together, sharing food and wine under the watchful eyes of a chaperon.
Odessa walked directly from Rutinia’s store to Brint’s shop. The doors were open and the furnace was burning. Heat billowed out from the inside, pushing the air into a steady wind. The main room was empty, save for a few workbenches topped with a smattering of tools. Odessa walked further into the shop and around the crackling furnace where she found Brint’s apprentices sitting at a long bench at the very back.
Seven boys and young men were bent over the tabletop. Between them were large tins of polishing cream. Each had a rag in one hand that they were running over something small in the other hand. They passed the object from person to person down the line until it was dropped into a large pouch at the far end.
“Excuse me,” Odessa called out over the sound of the furnace.
One of the boys looked up. He was maybe ten years old with bright red hair and a missing front tooth. “What do you want?”
“I’m Odessa,” she said. “I’m here to pick up an order.”
The boy put down his rag and, without saying a word, ran off in the direction of Brint’s office. A few of the other apprentices gave her a curious look. One nudged the boy beside him and whispered something she couldn’t hear. Odessa pretended she hadn’t noticed.
Brint appeared. He wiped a cloth over his bald head and stuffed it into his pocket. The apprentice trailed along after him, then went back to the bench without prompting.
“Brint,” Odessa greeted.
“Odessa,” he rumbled. “I have your order here.”
He waved her over to the work table where he picked up the pouch and tugged the opening wide. Odessa looked down at the sparkling contents and grinned.
“This is excellent. Thank you.”
Brint grunted. “Thank my apprentices. They polished every one.”
Odessa glanced down the line and said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, milady,” said the little redhead nearest to her. A few of the others gave her a deferential nod.
“You bring me money to pay for their effort?”
Odessa held up the pouch and shook it so that he would hear the jingling coins. “Of course.”
Brint took it from her and opened it. “This is too much.”
“Consider it a down payment for the next round.”
He lifted a brow at her. “You want more?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll need at least three times as many as the first batch.”
“Three times? What are you using them for?”
Odessa turned a coy shoulder. “Something beautiful.”
Fire burst out of the furnace. The white hot flame shot out just before a loud boom shook the entire shop. Odessa jerked back and covered her ears. Her hip hit the workbench hard, forcing her to stumble to the side. She hissed, opening her eyes to find several of the work tables at the front of the shop on fire. Smoke began to fill the room, turning everything it touched black.
Brint recovered faster than she did. “Water! Go!”
The apprentices abandoned their stools and started running for the back door. They grabbed from a stack of buckets on the way. Odessa worked to shake off her shock. She wobbled on her feet and ran both forearms over her eyes to clear away the grit.
“Help me,” Brint ordered. He threw a thick blanket at her and sprinted around the furnace.
Odessa, blanket in hand, followed. The temperature was climbing quickly and she struggled to breathe through the smoke. She crouched low and squinted through it until she got to one of the tables. Then, she threw the blanket over its surface to smother the flame. The blanket wasn’t large enough to cover the whole table and she had to pull it from one side to the other, singeing her fingertips.
Curses in her native tongue fell from her lips. She flicked her fingers reflexively and kept moving the blanket. When she put out the fire on one table, she moved to the next. Nearby, Brint was doing the same. Sparks caught on the doors and one of the walls. They smoked and burned against anything that wasn’t stone. Brint and Odessa kept working against the fire. As soon as they put out one, another rose in its place. It was spreading too fast, too hot.
Brint’s apprentices arrived with water. Under Brint’s direction, they began to toss bucket after bucket into the orange flames. Hot smoke sizzled, pulled up and out of the workshop through the open doors.
“Take this end,” Brint yelled as he threw half the blanket at her. “Help me get this wall.”
Odessa shook out the fabric, already burned through in some places, and held it up against the wall. An apprentice caught the bottom and pressed it to the wood while another boy threw water on the blanket. Odessa was hit in the face with steam. She turned away, forcing her hands to remain in place until she was sure the fire was out.
More water arrived. More steam hissed. Once the walls and doors were clear, they went to work on the floor in front of the furnace. Several large logs lay before the fiery opening, launched outwards by the initial blast of flame. The apprentices used large cast iron rods to roll them back where they belonged while Odessa threw down the blanket and stomped on it to make sure the embers the logs left behind didn’t float up and start the fire all over again.
When she was relatively sure the flames were extinguished, Odessa looked around at the soot covered faces of Brint’s apprentices. Like Odessa, they were breathing hard and looking around with wild eyes. The smallest was crying softly in the arms of an older boy. The smoke slowly cleared, leaving the room eerily quiet.
Brint went apprentice by apprentice, checking them for injury before patting their head and moving on to the next. He turned to Odessa last, walking up to where she stood near the furnace with a question in his eyes.
“I’m alright,” she said. “Just a few burns.”
He nodded. “I’ll get you some salve. It’ll help you heal.”
Before Odessa could protest—she would heal regardless of whether or not she cleaned and dressed the wound—he disappeared into his office. She tried to sigh. The breath was rough and ended on a harsh cough. Her lungs burned and the muscles in her belly quaked. The sweat all over her body began to dry, leaving her shivering faintly.
“Got it!” Brint called out. He waved a canister above his head.
Odessa started to reply that she really didn’t need it when fire burst out of the furnace for a second time. She quickly threw herself down to avoid the flame, but wasn’t fast enough. The sleeve of her blouse caught fire. Linen, apparently, burned fast. She cried out, holding her arm away from her body in a useless effort to keep from spreading the fire to her chest.
While she was waving her arm and yelling, an apprentice was thinking with a clear head. He took a nearly empty bucket of water and threw it on her, dousing the flame. Odessa sputtered and sat up, wiping the water from her face.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the apprentice replied. He put the bucket down and helped Odessa to stand.
Brint wasn’t laughing, but he looked like he wanted to. “Are you well?”
“Just singed,” Odessa said. She tugged the burned linen away to find her skin was red and splotchy, but not blistered.
“Here. Use this.”
Odessa opened her mouth the refuse a third time. She stopped short when she caught the earnest expression on his face.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the canister from him.
Brint grunted. He put his hands on his hips and scanned the room. There was a lot of damage, but at least the walls held.
“What happened?” Odessa asked.
Brint scratched at his beard. “No idea. Sometimes the vents blow a little extra smoke, but not like this.” He gestured to the oldest apprentice. “I’ll need you to watch the furnace tonight. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. You three, go fill every bucket we have with water.”
Odessa held the canister close to her chest and watched the fire. Her arm might only be a little burned, but it brought back an ache that she hoped she would someday forget.
“Take this, too,” Brint said. He held out the pouch.
She took it from him with numb fingers. The contents were heavy and they shifted around unsteadily. “Should I expect a delay in the next order?”
Brint shook his head. “No. We’ll get it done.”
“There’s really no rush.”
Again, he shook his head. “We’ll get it done.”
Odessa nodded. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, then.”
“Yes.” He picked the blanket off the ground. “If you’ll excuse me. I have to get this shop back in order.”
“Of course,” she said, and ducked out of the room through the still steaming doors.
People were standing around the workshop, looking on with worried faces. She heard them talking among themselves. Already, they were whispering about what caused the fire. A few walked up to peek inside and ask if Brint needed help. She could hear his answering command to stay back and out of the way.
Odessa dodged the crowd and walked the path between the workshops. With the canister and pouch held to her chest, she took the quickest route back to her cottage. The sight of it was welcome and it loosened the twist in her chest. She rushed inside and tore off her ruined blouse. At her vanity, she applied the salve liberally. Odessa might not need it to heal, but the cooling sensation it gave her skin made her sigh in relief. Odessa closed her eyes and, after a moment, pulled off the rest of her clothes. As she was washing away the soot, a cold came over her that had nothing to do with the salve.
Odessa’s hands froze. She swallowed hard and waited. It was there. An apate. The thing was close enough that the fearful dread gripped her spine and gave it a good shake. Odessa threw down the cloth and hastily pulled on her nightdress. She rushed to the door and looked out with all her senses.
The apate was standing on the cliff’s edge, staring at her. Odessa moved without thinking, grabbing the dagger from her boot where it lay beside the door. She rushed outside, running headlong towards the figure of shadow and smoke. It waited until she was nearly upon it before dropping off the cliff.
Odessa stumbled to a stop and looked down. The apate moved with inhuman speed along the bottom of the cliff to the wall. Odessa grit her teeth while she watched it disappear through the door in the stone.
Another apate? Odessa tried to think back to when she’d seen two of the creatures in the same place so close together. How long had it been? Decades, she decided.
She stood there at the top of the cliff with her arm burning and her mind working through the problem. After years of calm and sweetness, of the sunny disposition of the Vale, things were going awry at a frightening frequency. Something was wrong Lossarnach and Odessa knew exactly how to deal with it.
Summary: Odessa's job had two primary responsibilities: Keep the realm of Middle Earth in balance and don't get involved. For centuries, those two tasks have come easy to her--especially in the tranquil city of Lossarnach. When a dark stranger rides through the gates, the balance of her world turns on its axis. Both of her primary directives unravel at an alarming rate, leaving Odessa questioning her very purpose.
Word Count: ~3,000
Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.
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Odessa’s mother did not get invited to take the air with the wives of other noblemen. On the rare occasions that she did, Eleni D’Rossi would bring Odessa along so that she could learn how to talk and act from her betters. Listen to them, she would say, so that you will be accepted when you are old enough.
On those days, Odessa walked a short distance behind the ladies, pretending to take in the paintings, or the art, or the lovely architecture while hanging on every word. If she were feeling particularly brave, Odessa would pick a lady and mimic their gait and affectations. The noblewomen were so elegant and so perfectly coiffed in their lavish dresses with jewels hanging from their necks that it took Odessa far too long to realize the contempt with which they treated her mother.
Eleni cared very little for society, but she was determined to put her daughter in an advantageous position. Her father was too well respected to risk being overtly rude to her mother. A fact that did not stop a precisely placed word or look. Odessa never saw her mother lower her head in shame, nor did she ever respond in kind. As she grew up, it would be her mother that she mimicked when she needed to be poised.
She drew heavily on that mimicry while she watched Elenna stand at the window of her room with her arms crossed and a petulant turn in her mouth. She was dressed in a soft yellow dress with white lace trim that matched her gloves. Her hair was braided simply down her back and she’d forgone the additional of fresh flowers tucked into the tresses. For Elenna, this was as little effort as she was willing to put into her appearance.
“I don’t think,” Odessa said, “that making him wait is going to do what you think it will.”
Elenna huffed. “If Lord Tivan has any brain at all, he will think I’m a vapid, childish girl and move on to someone else.”
“If Lord Tivan has any brains at all,” Odessa shot back, “he won’t allow the thought that you might be vapid and childish keep him from courting the daughter of the most powerful lord in the region.”
Elenna rolled her eyes. Her arms tightened around her chest. “Ambition will only get him so far—until he’s so sick of me he cannot go on.”
At this, Odessa laughed. “You haven’t even met him yet and you’re already plotting his downfall.”
Elenna smirked. “Its the only pleasure I’ll have this afternoon.”
Rising from the padded bench, Odessa fluffed the hem of her dress. The gray linen was all she could afford in the first months of her tenure as warden. While she was in the Blue Mountains, she added the navy embroidery. The sharp angles and geometrical shapes were a test of her precision with a needle.
“I think you’re overreacting,” Odessa drawled. “We are very late, and we should go.”
Elenna’s smirk fell. “We should be more late.”
“I have other things to do today.”
This wasn’t necessarily true. Odessa kept close to her cottage after the arrests at Maylen’s. She heard that everyone was released a day or two later with no charges and a half-assed apology from the jailer. Some of the lords were demanding to meet with Lord Wystrom. The public embarrassment of their sons being thrown into a cell could not be borne.
“Fine,” Elenna said, eventually. She dropped her arms and trudged out of the room.
Odessa followed, snagging the handle of a basket on the way. Elenna linked arms with her while they walked. She was uncharacteristically silent the whole way to the terrace, which didn’t bode well for Lord Tivan. Odessa already felt bad for the man. He was just trying to make a good match and he had no idea what he was working against.
Just before the terrace doors, Odessa let go of Elenna’s arm and stepped back. She held the basket in front of her and gave Elenna one last smile. Elenna was not smiling, but she did pull back her shoulders and lift her chin. She walked out onto the terrace with an air of confidence and charm.
“Lord Tivan,” she greeted.
Lord Tivan stood as Elenna stepped out from the terrace doors. He was very tall with light brown hair that flopped over his forehead. His brown eyes were eager and his smile all too genuine. The bow he gave was almost an afterthought. Quick. Efficient. Pulling up quickly so that he could look at Elenna again.
“Lady Elenna,” he said. There was a breathlessness in his voice. A nervousness.
Elenna allowed him to guide her to a table where he helped her into a chair. She straightened her skirts and relaxed into a pose of serene distance. Odessa was not fooled. She saw how Elenna took in the large covering that blocked out the afternoon sun, the crisp white tablecloth, and the pitcher of wine at the ready. Lord Tivan was already more thoughtful than his predecessor.
Odessa started to move to a stool at the far end of the terrace so that she could be both nearby and out of the way. She was stopped with Lord Tivan called out to her.
“Please,” he said, “you may join us, if you wish.”
She was surprised enough that she looked to Elenna for help. Odessa was Elenna’s friend, not her maid. Elenna, unfortunately, was no help. She returned Odessa’s look with a meaningful one of her own. Please save me, it said.
“Your offer is gracious,” Odessa said. “I will have to decline. Respectfully. Sitting here will suit me perfectly well.”
Elenna’s face flashed with betrayal. Odessa grinned at her. If she wanted to deter Lord Tivan, she was going to have to do it herself. Odessa had work to do. She sat down and pulled the rolled length of ribbon from her basket. Rutinia would be expecting her any day to deliver. It was a boon that Lady Hwin’s choice of embroidery was relatively simple. Odessa barely had to concentrate at all to stitch the little interlocking flowers.
Settling into the rhythm of stitch, pull, stitch, pull was easy. Odessa stopped listening to the pleasantries at the table and worked section by section. Stitch, pull, stitch, pull. She barely looked up when the tea and assorted desserts were brought out. The servants, of course, paid her about as much attention as a potted plant, which was fine. Fewer interruptions meant faster work.
She soon ran out of thread on her needle. Odessa tied it off and reached for more. While she unrolled a long section, her ears attuned to the conversation at the table.
“We keep a housekeeper,” Elenna was saying, “but, she works at my discretion.”
Lord Tivan picked up the pot of tea and offered it to Elenna. While he poured, he said, “The keep is a large estate. It must take a lot of work to ensure it runs properly.”
That’s right, Odessa thought. Complimenting her is the way to go.
Elenna lifted her cup to her lips. “I have daily duties that I attend to. Menus to plan. Supply orders to approve.”
“I assume,” Lord Tivan replied as he tipped the pitcher over his own cup, “that you will want to continue those duties after you are married.”
Odessa turned her ear further towards the table. When had they made the transition from pleasantries to marriage?
Elenna put her cup down. “I will want to continue, yes. I’m very particular.”
She frowned. They were talking about marriage. Something Elenna was vehemently against not half an hour before.
“You have every right to be,” Lord Tivan allowed. “We have a very skilled housekeeper at Blaymore. I’m sure you would find her competent.” He passed a napkin through his fingers. “I can arrange a meeting, if you like.”
The invitation was clear. Odessa looked at the back of Elenna’s head, waiting for her answer with as much anticipation as Lord Tivan. The young woman let the silence go on for far too long. Lord Tivan’s expression of hope began to falter.
Then, in a voice so casual that it bordered on dismissive, she said, “If you wish.”
Odessa let out a silent breath and went back to threading her needle. For all her bluster about making Lord Tivan hate her, Elenna was being very compliant. What game was she playing now?
“Excellent,” Lord Tivan said. “I will send for her tomorrow.”
Elenna changed the subject. “What did you think of our party last month?”
“It was,” Lord Tivan answered, “well received.”
“Well received?”
He nodded. “There was positive talk about the décor. And, several ladies have inquired with your cook about the sugar sculpture.”
Odessa didn’t have to look at Elenna to know she was pleased.
“Yes. I have been informed that one or two made an offer of employment.”
“That would not surprise me.”
“Nor I,” Elenna agreed. “Thankfully, they have left my gardener to himself.”
“Well, that does surprise me,” Lord Tivan said. “With the frost last year, I imagine growing white roses was difficult.”
“Yes, it was. But, it was what I wanted.”
“Do you always get what you want?”
“Always.”
Odessa smiled down at her work. At least Elenna was being honest with the man. She began stitching through the ribbon again, wrapping the thread around her needle to form a flower bud. She kept stitching while Elenna described how she put in her order at the dressmakers. The explanation was thorough and detailed enough that Odessa began to feel sorry for Lord Tivan. He couldn’t have any idea what the difference was between netting and tulle, but he listened attentively—even asked an occasional question.
Stitch, pull. Stitch, pull. Odessa ran out of thread again and tied off a knot. She snipped it with a small pair of shears. Then, threaded the needle a second time. By the time she needed to thread a third time, Elenna had moved on from tulle to accessories. Jewels and floral hair pieces must match. Mixing metals was tacky. Scarves were for outdoor activities only. Again, Lord Tivan listened and made sporadic commentary.
Odessa finished the section and tied off the thread. She rolled her head from side to side, massaging the ache out of her neck. Then, she put the needlework aside and stood. She wandered to the far end of the terrace and leaned her forearms on the railing. Odessa took a deep breath and looked out into the gardens.
In the distance, the frame for the greenhouse was being constructed. She could see the slanted roof peeking out from behind the hedge maze. A few panes of glass were already in place. They reflected the afternoon sun, sending out beams of refracted white light. Lord Wystrom was lucky they got enough rock out of the tunnel before it collapsed. Otherwise, the project might remain unfinished for months.
Her gaze wandered over the stunning array of flowers and well trimmed shrubbery. It really was beautiful. There were few places in Middle Earth like Lossarnach, and the garden was singular among them.
A figure passed nearby. Odessa looked down to find Lord Adar walking from one of the side entrances to the keep. She leaned a little further over the railing and called out to him. He stopped and looked up at her with first confusion, then recognition.
“Here to see Lord Wystrom?”
“I am,” he replied, moving closer so that he was standing directly beneath the balcony.
“Usually, your meetings are at night.”
“There were special circumstances.”
“What kind of circumstances?”
“I’m leaving the city.”
Odessa would never admit how disappointed she was to hear that. “Leaving?”
Lord Adar nodded. “Maylen gave me the medicine. I need to test it.”
“Of course,” she croaked. “I hope it helps your people.”
“Thank you.”
“Well,” Odessa said, trying to find anything to dispel the knot in her chest, “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “For now.”
“For now?”
“Yes,” Lord Adar said again. “I still have my end of the bargain to fulfill.”
Odessa pursed her lips. In all the mess of the last few weeks, she’d forgotten how Lord Adar secured her assistance in the first place. The continued presence of the wargs outside of the city was a very real threat. One that she could not set easily aside. One that would bring Lord Adar back to the city to deal with.
She stared down at him while her feelings tangled together in a mass of confusion. He stared back at her with his brows pulled together, as if he might have some sympathetic feelings. Cool wind blew through the garden, ruffling his hair. She memorized the way he tucked it behind his ears and let it fall naturally down over his shoulders. In the sun, his pale skin was almost as gray as his eyes. The effect flattened him against the vibrant landscaping all around. Made him look even more unnatural. And, compelling. He was utterly compelling.
“So,” she said in a low voice, “goodbye for now.”
Lord Adar touched his hand to his heart. “Goodbye for now.”
Another long look, and he turned from her. She followed him with her eyes until he disappeared through the flowering arches. Then, she straightened and went back to her stool. Falling back into her work was impossible. Odessa just couldn’t focus on the stitches when she suspected something had changed. She might not have been so distracted if she had any understanding about what had changed. Instead, Odessa was left with a vague feeling of loss.
Odessa had said goodbye to countless people. People she would never see again as long as she lived. A sad farewell was so unfortunately common that Odessa could no longer remember all the individual moments where she left friends behind. Lord Adar was no different. Just a person she spent a laughably small amount of time with.
The servants bustled in to clear the table. Odessa put her work aside and watched Lord Tiven help Elenna out of her chair. He appeared to have gained some confidence during their conversation. His head was held high and his spine was straight.
Lord Tivan held Elenna’s hand in both of his. “Thank you for agreeing to tea.”
“It was my father who agreed,” Elenna said.
He remained poised. “In either case, I enjoyed your company.”
Odessa was quietly impressed. Elenna was being rude and he was responding with unfailing courtesy. She rose and walked a few steps behind as Elenna headed back into the keep. Elenna made it around the corner before her calm, cool demeanor collapsed. Her shoulders dropped and she blew out a loud breath. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall with a childish pout.
“I do not like him.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He is so boring.”
Odessa laughed. “You spent all of an hour with him. That doesn’t seem like enough time to know he’s boring.”
“How interesting can a farmer be?”
“I’m sure he has other interests, Elenna.”
“Yes,” she replied, “books.”
Elenna began to walk back to her rooms. Odessa linked her arm with Elenna’s and walked with her. “Books are interesting.”
Elenna made a short, disgusted sound.
“He owns more land than any other lord,” Odessa gently reminded her.
“All the land in Middle Earth means nothing if he’s boring.”
“You’re judging him too soon.”
Elenna jerked away from Odessa. She stomped away a few paces and turned around angrily. “Stop trying to tell me what I am or am not doing.”
Surprised by the abrupt change, Odessa held up both hands. “I’m just trying to—.”
“—to control me, like you do everyone else.”
She paused, confused at Elenna’s sudden turn of emotions. “I don’t control people.”
“Oh, no,” Elenna replied sarcastically. “You just make suggestions. I heard what people are saying. I heard what you did.”
Anger rose up on swift feet. “Oh, you heard? Because the gossip never stops in Lossarnach, does it?”
“That is not a denial, Odessa.”
“Denial of what, Elenna?”
“That you lured Teig out to the river and killed him. Strung him up like deer in the trees.”
Odessa’s jaw dropped. “Teig’s dead?”
“Oh, pretend you had no idea. Go ahead.”
“I had no idea,” Odessa replied. “I didn’t kill him. And, I certainly didn’t tie him up in the trees.”
Elenna’s anger faltered. “Who did it, then?”
Odessa recalled Teig’s final attempt to save his life. “His boss, probably.”
“Teig had no boss.”
“Are you sure?” Odessa asked. “Explain to me how he smuggled goods into the city without being caught.”
Elenna’s face grew contemplative. “He had a gang.”
“A gang of idiots, believe me.” She stepped forward and took a calming breath. “Teig’s factory caught fire because he dug too deep into the gas vents. He died because he couldn’t serve his purpose anymore. Not because I killed him.”
Elenna looked away, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. “I...apologize.”
Odessa could not accept an apology from Elenna. The woman was almost right. She might not have killed Teig, but she made sure he was vulnerable. Odessa forced her mouth into a smile. “I am not offended. Lossarnach’s gossip is rarely wrong.”
Elenna walked up and took Odessa’s hand. “You should be careful. Once it is said, it cannot be unsaid. People are saying a lot.”
“I will be fine,” Odessa proclaimed. She began to walk with Elenna again. “Are you going to see Lord Tivan again?”
“If my father demands it.”
“You know your father won’t make you see him if you don’t want to.”
Elenna preened a moment. “He wants to trade with Lord Tivan for his cattle. He...encouraged me to seriously consider the match.”
“I think its a good idea.”
“You marry him, then.”
Odessa laughed. “He has no interest in me. Besides, my life doesn’t suit marriage.”
“Why not?”
“Because I travel too much.”
Elenna looked up at her. “Yes, but you’ve been here for years. You’re happy here.”
“I am, but there will be a time to move on.”
“But, not now?”
Odessa didn’t miss how her voice got smaller. “No,” she replied as they turned the corner. “Not now.”
I have finished the final edit for The Thread of Destiny. I set the project aside for nearly three months and, as I read through it again in its entirely, I realize that I have made a character that I don't necessarily like. Odessa is impulsive, and childish, and she takes her power for granted. Especially in the first two thirds of the story. I wonder if that is why I let the story unfold as it does.
When I did the first outline of this story, I had a completely different ending in mind. By the time I reached the mid-point, I knew I could not keep the original idea. A theme began to peek through and I had to see it to completion.
There will be another story coming for The Rings of Power. Mika, Odessa's predecessor, has been very patient with me while I finish Odessa's story. Its time that I turn to hers.
