05-18-2023, 09:49 AM
Helayne Ilirium
Hel made her way inside the blacksmiths shop. The usuals suffocating heat had died down to a light smother. The scent of smoke and oil still filled the air as she made her way to the back. Halfdan smiled at the sight of her, his mismatched eyes looking over her carefully. “You seem to be in one piece still, lass!” He laughed, reaching out to tug her into his burly arms, crushing her against him in a fierce hug.
Hel gasped slightly, choking on a laugh as she embraced the old man back. “Still in one piece for now. You said you’d found a dress?” The blacksmith sat her back on her feet once more, his expression changed, suddenly serious. “Aye, I have something in mind… are you sure you want to keep doing this though? You’re walking into a den of vipers, lass You may never find what you’re looking for...” His normally stoic face was darkened with worry. His creased forehead exaggerated the already scarred skin, the pale moon eye staring blindly back at her. “You know that answer,” she held her voice firm, gaze unwavering. “I have to keep trying.” He only nodded, turning to grab a box off his cleanest work table. “This belonged to your mother. I did have some changes made. You’re much taller then she was, but she brought this dress with her from her own world before she joined ours.” She found herself without words, shocked he’d have kept such a piece from her. Opening the lid she found a gold collar attached to simple black silk. She ran her hand over the fabric fondly, the garment so foreign from the customs she grew up knowing. A knot formed in her throat envisioning her mother young and happy, entwined in a dance with her father. She looked up at Halfdan and smiled sadly at him, “Thank you… How do you have it?” His own smile mirrored the pain of hers, but he simply nodded. “She’d asked me to sell it, er, well after everything happened and she just had you and her younger brood…” He coughed, hating to dredge up the memories for either of them. “You’re welcome to get ready here, I’ll be out in the shop when you’re ready.” Hel jumped on the change of topic, “That’s okay, I’ll take Freya.” “Freya?!” He barked back in reply, “That hell beast is not fit for this occasion. Besides you’ll be in your gown, how will you ride and look like any sort of lady?” He tossed up his hand, flexing the stumps of his missing fingers as if to emphasize his point. Hel laughed, “The kind that rides hard and fast.” She turned from his red face and made her way back into the house to avoid any further argument. Standing in front of the broken mirror, she pulled the thin wisp of a gown up over her hips, wrapping the collar around her throat. It covered most of the ancestral tattoo. She frowned at its absence, but perhaps it was for the best to keep it hidden. The black silk slipped down to wrap around her lean frame, showing curves she never knew were there. It barely hid the side of her breast and fell low to the crest of her bottom, trimmed in gold that chilled her skin at its touch. The tight braid she’d woven her hair into revealed her bare back and the thick deep grooving scars there. She turned to see them and grimaced. Refusing to let the memories resurface she quickly shook her long silver blonde hair out and draped it across her back to try and hide them. It would have to do. At the bottom of the box was a beautiful headpiece that she had vague memories of her mother wearing, something more familiar to her family. She pulled the thin threads of gold onto the top of her head, draping across her nose and gathering at the nape of her neck. She hardly recognized the reflection staring back at her. Too much felt wrong. Too naked without her bows familiar weight at her back and the weight of her blades at her hip. She’d only just managed to hide a few silver daggers at each thigh. Her hands were not a lady’s hands, they were callused and scarred, a hunter’s hands. She rubbed them together self consciously, as if she could find a way to hide them. There was no more use waiting, it didn’t truly matter what she looked like anyway, so long as she blended in. Halfdan was waiting with a shabby looking carriage that she couldn’t imagine what bog he’d dragged it from. “I’ll drop you off, Freya will be hidden nearby if you need a quick escape.” Hel smiled, allowing him to drop her off at the houses front door. Before she could make her way into the gate, he grabbed her hand quickly, his eyes brimming with moisture. “Don’t forget you’re as good as any of ‘em in there, lass. More then. You are the blood of Valthira, you make us all proud. Be careful,” and with his warning, he was swinging himself up, the tap of his wooden leg signaling the horses on as it lumbered off. Hel held back her emotions at his words turning to face the house once more. The mansion was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Finery that she and her people had never known. Oh, she was so very far from the mountains she thought. Her gaze traveled over the rich clothing and jewelry with stones big enough to feed entire villages. Most of all, she searched the faces, tried to recognize family crests and significant players who may have some information. Doing her best to blend in and disappear in the crowd, she made her way carefully through it, listening as she went. ooc: no poison wine yet?! sorry, got long and rambly and kind of rushed it at the end . also going to say this dress is black since we at a wedding >.> LOL |