RP:What's the Truth?
Location: Deep Forest
Synopsis: Lanara and Eirik gather for the ritual the elf has been planning. They both have questions which need to be answered. A curse, from Valrae, has been nagging at both of them. However, messing with another witches magic, is costly. There is also the fact, that Lanara is not able to remove it - only alleviate it for minutes. A small time frame for Eiriks mind to find peace and discover the truth of his current disposition. Would it ruin the couple? Would he hurt her? Would this go well? Neither know, but decide it’s best to see it through to till the end. Though this ending, does have a twist.
What's the Truth?
This forest, which has been hidden for centuries, radiates a feeling of tranquility and peace. The plantlife, which is abundant here, serves to accentuate the calm of this sanctuary. Soaring overhead, a hawk circles about majestically, surveying his personal domain. On the forest floor, a group of chipmunks chitter happily as they can be seen foraging for food, and you wonder what sort of magic could create such beauty. The forest continues west, but parts to the south, leading to a clearing of sorts.
Lanara roused Eirik awake and the couple had hurriedly gotten dressed, only to trek through Venturil, and finally arrive deep in the forest. She hadn’t really mentioned any specifics of the ritual, but it was either do it today, or wait another month. The ritual would best work on a Saturday, during the waning moon, at dawn, and so they traverse through the forest until they come upon the perfect clearing. This particular section of the forest is abundant in plant life, isolated from the town, and most of all, it’s filled with an abundance of magic in the air. It’s literally, the most perfect spot for spell-casting. The elf appears worried, her hand tightly clasping Eirik’s, as the severity of the work they’d be conducting would be very telling. Would the man love her, without his empathic abilities? Would temporarily removing Valrae’s curse cause a horrible reaction in which he would desire to harm the witch? Lana finds that she’s unable to speak through the entire journey, her nerves are apparent, and her left hand clutches an oversized bag of the necessary tools. Tonight she dons a floor-length black robe, black slippers, and a silver pentacle is worn around her neck. She drops the lycan’s hand as she studies the area and gives a nod. They were here! She places her bag onto a large boulder, and begins to rummage for the tools, her dark hues shining in the moonlight, as she meets Eirik’s gaze. “I need you to undress, please. Down to your under-garments.”
Eirik had a plethora of emotions for coming here. For going through with this ritual Lanara has concocted. Despite his hatred of magics - for the literal piles of memories he carried- he still had come to the conclusion, that it is the only way to know for sure. Had he learned enough from the Elf to consider a difference on the topics of witches? Were his feelings only the summation of Valraes curse or gift, as he has rather begun to enjoy calling it? Is he only a monster, never to be forgiven? Will he always stand within the shadow? The Northmans teeth clench hard as they make their way into the forest he had discovered. The place where both could be at peace without interruptions. His posture is rigid and unforgiving. He’s nervous and rightly so. Even if it’s Lanara, these thoughts do not help alleviate his worry. Would things go well? Would this ruin them? All of these questions needed answers. Answers that will be provided soon. His own hand clutches hers tightly, and remains in the silence - obviously brewing over his own fears. When they arrive into the deep forests of Venturil, he takes heed of her words and abides. No matter the feeling his stomach carried. That nauseous one, which permeates through his core. “Okay,” He gives a nod to confirm her words and sets himself to the task. First, the bag he carries is dropped to the ground, with a mighty clunk - for the items within were quite heavy. It’s enough to denote that something metallic resides within. Finally, he removes his flannel shirt, white tee, boots and blue hued cotton pants. In only moments he resides in her commanded state, awaiting further orders.
Lanara slips a black cord over his head; a sapphire pendant dangles against his chest, as she stands on her tippy-toes and gives him a passionate kiss. Her full lips deepen the kiss, as she embraces him for what could very well be their last time. Would this ritual mean goodbye? Would it bring them closer than ever? The fact that the unknown is about to happen is weakening her courage, and several tears splash onto their joined lips, before she rests back on the soles of her slippers. “We have no choice.” She mutters, her voice broken, her eyes full of defeat. Losing the lycan would be the hardest pain she’d ever have to endure. Yet, they couldn’t continue loving each other, with the risk of it only being due to a ‘curse’ as it wouldn’t be fair to either Lanara or Eirik. So she raises her palms to her face, puts on her best game face, and turns away from the man, as she takes a large stick and draws a pentacle in the dirt, motioning for him to step into the center. Lana places a sapphire ring onto her right ring finger, and places a white candle at each of the five points of the drawn star, which is to signify each element. She then snaps her fingers and all five wicks burst with flame, lighting the pentacle and her work area. A handful of southernwood is placed into a small bowl, and she ignites that as well, burning the herb as though it were incense. The scent of lemon fills both of their senses, as she gently wafts the scent around the perimeter of the pentacle, before resting it at the base. The witch then runs a burning sage bundle across her chest, over her arms, up and down her legs, and around her waist, cleansing herself before she prepares to perform the ritual. Holding her arms out at her side, she mentally invokes each element, her eyes closed, before she opens her eyes, and glances upwards. “Earth, protect me from the North. Block and crush any threats. Air, protect me from the East, and blow away all threats. Fire, protect me from the South, burn all threats. Water, protect me from the West, and wash away all threats. I beckon all of you to me, this day, so please keep me from harm’s way. In the name of the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. As I spoke it, so mote it be!” Lana clasps her hands together, and sets her sights on Eirik, who is now in the center of the pentacle and waiting to be cleansed. “You may put on your restraints, now, Eirik… I’m going to make the salt scrub while you do that. Then I will put you beneath a protection spell.” Lana turns her back to the male as she mixes olive oil and salt in her mortar and pestle, whispering in sylvan over the bowl the entirety of the time.
Eirik understands the fire ignited inside of her - he had been living through them himself. He knew this even before that wet, tear filled kiss is planted upon his scar and beard riddled features; he is much the same. The Lycan swallows back the lump within his throat and watches the seriousness of his chosen partner. The witch Lanara. What an odd twist of fates. To love what you once hated. Though does he really? Once she has invoked those elements, and cleansed herself Eirik pulls that large bag back into his grasp. What he pulls are the restraining devices he had promised to put himself into, and with a single glance he offers the key to Lanara. “Here,” his sights linger on her for moments. He was trusting her to release him once this was over, but it’s still a scary thought. The waist chain is attached to himself first, followed by his ankles. The slack in the chain is pulled tight, giving him only inches of space betwixt his feet. This would keep him from pressing on towards her if things went south. A lock, is clicked in place to confirm it’s position, and Eirik violently tests the restrains. A showing for both himself and Lanara. He would go nowhere. Finally, he puts cuffs upon his wrists, which is also attached to his waist line. They click into place, and the Berserker is now reduced to a harmless man. A slave. His mind wanders in those thoughts of his past. He too, is now freaking out, but for different reasons. “I’m finished.” He gives a nod to the woodland witch - trusting her entirely in this state. “Go ahead,” his eyes close and linger that way for moments. He is trying to fight back his own nerves.
Lanara turns around in time to see Eirik testing the restraints, and her heart breaks for the man. She knew it would give him flashbacks, but she also knew that he was placing his full trust in her, and in her magic. The key is accepted, though she doesn’t really bother to test chains that bind him, for he had her complete trust. The elf didn’t even want him to restrain himself, for she had that much faith in their relationship, but that was his sole condition for performing this ritual, so she had no choice but to abide. “It would be best if you lay on your back. If that’s okay? If you’d rather stand, that’s okay, too.” She lets him weigh his options, and when he decides on either laying on the forest floor, or standing for the remainder of the ritual, she retrieves the bowl of the salt scrub, and begins to gently rub the mixture onto his arms, his legs, his chest, and his stomach. A dime-sized amount is placed betwixt his eyebrows, invoking the power of the hidden third-eye, and she leaves him for a moment, only to return with a large basin of blessed water. As she pours the water over his body, washing away the oil and salt mixture, she speaks, loudly, to the waning move, above. “With the purifying power of water, with the clean breath of air, with the passionate heat of fire, with the grounding energy of earth… I cleanse this man.” She repeats the spell, two more times, for a total of three, to enhance the strength of the spell. Once cleansed, she rests her palms over Eirik’s heart, barely gracing his flesh with her fingertips, as she speaks the spell of protection that she had earlier spoken for herself. ““Earth, protect Eirik from the North. Block and crush any threats. Air, protect Eirik from the East, and blow away all threats. Fire, protect Eirik from the South, burn all threats. Water, protect Eirik from the West, and wash away all threats. I beckon all of you to me, this day, so please keep this man from harm’s way. In the name of the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. As I speak it, so mote it be!” Pulling her hands back, she grabs the empty basin and tosses it outside of the circle, her dark hues locking onto Eirik’s face. “Eirik… The preparations are complete. The next step is where I remove the hex… We will have twenty-one minutes together, where the curse is no longer influencing your thoughts. You will be without your empathy towards witches. If you try to free yourself, I will run away, okay? But I will return as soon as the time is up, and I will unchain you. You have my word. And before we go any further… I just want to say thank you for letting me use magic on you… I know how hard this is for you. I know the memories that are resurfacing from your past. And, I know there’s a chance that this will destroy the love we share. But… I just want to tell you that I love you, one last time. I love you…” Lana blinks back tears, and steps outside of the circle, clutching tightly to the pentacle she wears around her neck. This was it.
Eirik can feel his heart nearly beating out of his chest. It would be a lie to say that he is comfortable with this whole ordeal. The cleansing, though non magical, is only ominous of what is to come. There is no way he could sit through this, and instead continues to stand despite the offer she had made for him to get more comfortable. However, her words begin, calling forth that spell of protection and his jaw buckles. No matter how much he trusted her, it is something he cannot put his faith in. However, he can put his faith in her or so he hoped. His eyes close, another testament to his uneasiness, as that water is poured over him. Thrice. His heart continues to pound in his chest. He can hear it ringing in his ears! Though he continues to carry through with the whole operation. He doesn’t open those silver hues, this is difficult enough for him. When she finishes with the whole ordeal, she grants him knowledge of what she will do. “I understand,” his voice is shaking, fearful of the end results, but he does open his hues one last time to utter another response. “I love you too,” his lips buckle into a frown, washing away the sadness that riddles his mind. He gives a nod, his only show that she should continue. Those eyes settle upon Lana, refusing to shut again.
Lanara wishes in her heart that he would change his mind at this last moment, as she feels as though she’s also losing her own resolve. She could lose him, entirely. That final declaration of his love has her choking back a sob and she takes a minute to regain her composure, as she doesn’t want any negative energy to reflect on the spell. They lock eyes for a long moment, the witch shaking from head to toe, before she finds the strength to continue. She loved him. He loved her. Their joined love would remain, regardless of the spell. She just had to hope their faith carried them through to the otherside, without the curse. So without further ado, she feigns a small smile for her lycan, and takes a deep, centering, breath. Lanara circles the perimeter of the earth-drawn pentacle, counter-clockwise, to ‘undo’ the curse that had been placed upon the lycan, courtesy of the deceased witch, Valrae. The curse would only be lifted for a matter of minutes, and at the conclusion of the craft, Lana would feel incredibly weak and Eirik would have the hex returned to him, thus the empathic abilities towards witches, would remain intact. The witch seems to revel in her element now, as the magic in her body pulses in perfect unison with each beat her heart takes, and her eyes are filled with wonder. The tone of her voice is filled with immense power, as she continues her journey, her tone never once wavering, despite the emotions coursing through her mind. “With the threat of the crimes, I bind your evil three times seven times. I bind you from behind, I bind you from before. That you’ll hurt Eirik, never ever more. I bind you from the left; I bind you from the right. I bind you by day, and I bind you by night. I bind you from below, I bind you from above. That you may ever know the laws of life and love. I bind you with your own good conscience within, and so let this magic unfold and spin…” Lana ends, standing before Eirik, just outside the circle, however she now is forced to close her eyes. The seconds tick by as she stands in the clearing, with a gentle breeze causing her long robe to billow in the breeze, and the candles casting shadows across her fair face, before Lana’s form seems to fade, until only her outline remains. Is it a trick of the light? Had she truly entered the astral plane? The outline of the witch shimmers, as her left arm lifts, a pair of scissors in her hand, as a single cut it made, seemingly in thin air. The spell continues, as the elf materializes back into the outline of her body, tucks the scissors into a pocket on the robe, and finishes the ritual. “Goddess of darkest night, send our troubles all to flight. Burn them in thy sacred fires, and replace them with our heart’s desires!” A glowing orb circles Eirik, thrice, clockwise, and flies off into the distance, signifying that the curse has been lifted, and that the ritual has been successful. Lana falls to her knees, filled with both exhaustion and despair, as she raises her big brown eyes to see the lycan’s reaction.
Eirik is not sure what is happening. Without intimate knowledge of magics and their workings, he can’t actually fathom what she is going through. The woodland witch is at the point of no return, and it’s too late for him to stop it. They had come too far. At this point his courage does fail him, and he closes his eyes to wait this out. It’s because of this, that he does not physically witness her fading or perhaps even the severing of a silver cord. When that cord is severed - everything is muddled. His mind is a veritable field of haze. The nonsense which had berated his mind only moments ago is washed away in the torrent of her alleviation. The ritual had been a success, and despite the fact that no harm has come to him, he wobbles in place; nearly falling despite his hard fought training. This is the crucial moment for them and Eirik shakes his head back and forth. How long would it take for this to wash away completely? Without word his thoughts are interrupted by a clarity he has not had in sometime. The witches emotions have gone silent within his minds eye. Finally he has reached the crescendo of this all consuming ritual. When silver eyes open, after only minutes of silence, they are not filled with hate. Lanara is looked upon, his features stoic as ever. But what would he say to her? “It’s so quiet.” His words denote the state of her performance, Eirik can sense nothing from her. He does not try to move, remembering her earlier words; she will flee. Instead he twists into thoughts about her. How does he feel? Is any of this real?
Lanara bites her lower lip, her face frozen in fear, not of the lycan possibly issuing in attack, but on the fear that he could realize he felt –nothing- for her, romantically. She digs her fingers into the dirt, grounding herself, and calling on the Goddess to give her strength to at least remain awake through the entirety of the alleviated curse. As the silver-eyed warrior speaks that it’s so quiet, she can’t help but crack a small smile. It was a relatively good sign that he didn’t lunge at the witch the second he laid his eyes upon her, but he’s behaving eerily calm, and she merely stares at him, wondering what’s going through his head. “Eirik…? Um… How are you feeling?” For me. About us. About witches, in general. However, she says nothing of the sort, her gaze hopeful, and her teeth embedded in her lower lip. The witch is in suspense.
Eirik does not answer any of her questions. Not at first. He ignores them completely while discovering the truth of things for himself. He sifts through their memories, recalling each one of them. The thought of that hobbit and his cucumber platter nearly forces a grin to besmirch his features. The other date which had gone wrong, and ended in her nervousness about marriage. It was only a mix-up after all. Then he remembers the half men, the sauna, and their escape! He remembers dancing in that battle tent. How she pressed through the entire battalion angrily. He knows the truth of things finally, and a smirk finally forms over his visage. “I love you,” he’s nearly in tears, discovering this for himself. This is written upon his own visage, plain for her to read. Valraes curse had taught him a sore lesson indeed. Enough to alter his mind of several hundred years of torturous magic. “But I’m afraid I still don’t like magic much,” he gives a soft chuckle to confirm his words. “Do you mind if I sit?” He is a little dizzy from all of this, and he couldn’t take his chains off yet or even try too.
Lanara bursts into tears as he says those three words, the witch curling into a ball, and giving way to heart-wrenching sobs. They were good tears, though they were tinged with anxiety and the hope that this would be the final outcome! She cries, and cries, and cries, as though holding in those feelings for so long and fearing they were one-sided had reached its peak. Thankfully, she regains control over her emotions enough to crawl over to Eirik and unchain the man, the key discarded in a pile of leaves, as she waits for him to sit, before pulling him in for a tight, loving, hug. “I love you, too! Oh my gosh… You have –no- idea how amazing it feels to know that you really love me… And that you aren’t just feeling what I’m feeling, but you’re feeling it for yourself.” She’s hysterical, unable to stop crying, babbling, or smiling, as she tightens her grip on the lycan. Her lycan, her love.
Eirik himself is in disbelief. This revelation is mind shattering for him. Despite the fact that Valrae had cursed him, it ended up being one of the greatest gifts he has -ever- received. When she undoes his bindings, he is slow to respond at first, but relents and pulls her into that hug. But he does not end up sitting! Nay for instead, he helps Lanara to her feet, and he plucks up that pair of blue hued cotton pants. He knew there wasn’t much time. While she stood there relieved to know the truth of things, he had already moved on to what he had planned himself. He pulls those pants on over his knickers and turns back to face her, buttoning them. Finally a hand plunges into his pocket and he pulls something free - but he doesn’t let her see. “I know I don’t have much time Lanara.” He’s referring to being without the curse. “But this can’t wait.” The northman drops to a single knee, right here in the middle of the forest. “I know that I love you. Now, better than I ever have. I’m not muddled by the thoughts of empathy, and it is rather soon. But you and I need to know that it’s me asking you, and not the spell. I will never have this chance again.” His silver eyes move to meet her chocolate hued ones. Of course, this isn’t the most romantic of settings, but it is rather intimate for them both. After such a moment as they have just experienced, there wouldn’t be a better time. “Even if we wait years or months or go through with it tomorrow, Lanara.” His voice grows silent, nervous for a different reason entirely. “Will you marry me?” The ring is proffered and shown to her - it’s an intricate platinum band enhanced further by a beautiful diamond set in its center. Though his hands are shaking, and there is a smile upon his features, he can already begin to feel the workings of Valraes magic starting to weave their way into his mind. At least he had the chance to ask her without… The lycan does nothing, but wait. Wondering if she would even accept such a thing.
Lanara isn’t sure why he’s making her stand up, but she’s crying so hard that she doesn’t even question it, as she bends to kiss his forehead. When had he retrieved his pants? Why was he on one knee, and looking so nervous? It doesn’t quite kick in that he’s proposing, until those four fateful words are asked, and the diamond ring is staring her straight in the face. Eirik wanted to get married. Eirik was proposing, at this very second. Pilar’s bouquet toss was more than a mere tradition. She was going to be Lanara Vergessen! The elf stares at the ring, her gaze trailing up his arm and locking onto his smiling face, as she nods her head, forcefully. “YES! YES! YES, of course! Really?! You want to get married?!” Her heart begins to race, tears steadily flow onto her cheeks, and she uses her last bit of strength to throw her arms around Eirik and tenderly kiss him on the lips. “You asked me before the curse returned… That was so sweet. So romantic! I love you, Eirik.” Only now does she take in the sight of the ring, and extend her hand so that he may place it upon her finger. The runic ring he had given to her is slipped onto her opposite hand, to make room for the engagement ring. Lana is feeling so many emotions right now, that she can’t even fathom which to focus upon. She’s elated that they have taken a further step towards commitment. She’s nervous to hear what her sister, Talyara, will think of their engagement. She’s hopeful that they will be the best husband and wife, ever. She’s somewhat saddened that the curse had to return to her fiancé. All of these emotions run rampant through her mind as she admires the stunning ring, moving her hand to the left and right and watching the diamond shimmer with each move she makes. Finally, she decides on an emotion to focus upon, for it’s the only emotion that matters, the one above all others. Love. She had loved this man from the minute she laid eyes upon him in Sage Forest. She loved him through their rises and their downfalls. She loved that he was a reformed witch killer, and that she had her magic restored, making her once more a witch. She loved Eirik, with every single beat of her heart, through thick and thin. And she would love him for all eternity, as his elf, his witch, his partner in crime, and his wife.
Eirik imagines there will be -many- crimes for the two of them in the future, but for now, he’s content to let his nerves settle when she grants him her answer! The ring is shakily put onto her finger, where she is able to admire it all she wants. He gives a sigh, freeing the birds that fly within his stomach - butterflies where for children. “Only just barely,” he responds to her comment of timing. His words allude to the fact that it’s back, full swing and he is once again bathed in the calamity that is Lanara. “And after our talk about marriage, I figured that this would be the best time. Because frankly, it’s the only time that the real Eirik, can ask.” He reaches up to scratch the back of his head, still shaking away those nerves. The Lycan had a soft spot for this elf, and its undeniable to him now. Especially after that moment without the curse. “So, when I left to get the chains for this, I grabbed that as well. In case this was a real moment.” He’s alluding to the fact that he had fought through his own fears to plan that, despite his own thoughts that this would have been terrible. Instead, it only served to strengthen them. “Let’s get out here?” He would only wait moments before gathering everything, and offering an arm to Lanara to help her exhausted form walk. “I love you.” His words are whispered to her and himself.
Lanara can’t wipe the smile from her face as she gathers her few belongings, and hands Eirik his shirt. “I’m sorry that you are still all covered in oil and salt. It was part of the cleansing ritual. Is there some place nearby where we can maybe go for a swim?” Sure, she was tired, and her powers would be silenced for the next twenty-four hours, but she also was engaged to the man she loved. There was no way she was going to be able to go directly to bed! Not with the multitude of emotions and excitement running through her mind! So she slips her arm through Eirik’s and kisses him on the cheek. “Let’s get out of here. Leave those chains behind; we won’t ever need them again. We found out all we need to know tonight.” His arm is given a gentle squeeze as they leave the forest and dawn finally breaks, making it easier for them to see where their footfalls land.