Frigga
Frigga woke up before Doris had refilled her water or laid out her clothes. She had awakened in that liminal hour when it was too late to go back to sleep but too early to start the day. Instead, Frigga wrapped herself in a throw blanket and sat on the alcove’s bench to watch the sun rise. She savoured the stillness that came with the early hour, silence would be a rare delight today. Her birthday party, an event her aunt had been planning for months, wasn’t about Frigga at all, not really. It was more of a coming out; as of today, she was a fully-fledged Thorneheart bachelorette, entirely marriageable and a soon to be an initiated coven Heir.
Frigga leaned back on the alcove wall, staring down the home’s front drive, and sighed heavily. Marriageable was the last thing she wanted to be. She was going to have to marry a man and that fact made every cell in her body writhe. But the reality of the matter was that it would happen which was merely one expectation of the dozens she needed to fulfil. She’d already sacrificed so much for this; multiple friendships had died from neglect, countless hours of sleep lost to extra study, even her love of horticulture was relegated to hobby rather than career. All of it to ensure that she wouldn’t squander the potential that everyone went on and on about.
Frigga watched as the sun crested the horizon, washing the fields and rooftops in golden light. She opened her window to breathe in the fresh air, and the faint scent of baked goods wafted into Frigga’s bedroom. She yawned before leaning her forehead on the cool window pane, and her heart ached as she recalled yesterday’s afternoon with Razi. She wished she could go see her in the kitchen right now. She wished she could spend more time with Razi in general, more than just a few afternoons per week.
There was a lot that Frigga wanted of Razi, especially because it was her birthday. Frigga blushed and hid her awkward smile under her blanket, but if she couldn’t do what she wanted on her birthday, when even could she? It’d been over a year since her last encounter, just before her friend Anna had gone home to Elderburgh after she’d graduated, and Frigga got the distinct impression that an encounter with Razi would be quite different. After all, neither herself nor Anna had any experience before their experimenting had started a few months prior, and Frigga hadn’t sought out other partners since.
But Razi? The woman seemed more than experienced in such things. To say the woman was experienced would be like saying the Thorneheart library contained a few books, and Razi could probably write a few on the topic. One book on blondes, one on brunettes, and one on the rest, though Frigga had noticed on their occasional trips to town that Razi seemed to flirt with a lot of blondes, that one in particular had gotten very handsy which even now made Frigga’s cheeks
flare with an emotion she had to admit to herself was jealousy. She’d pretended not to hear when Razi made comments about how beautiful this woman’s eyes were or how that woman’s newest scarf flattered her complexion, but Frigga had heard every flirtatious word. Something about the way Razi spoke to them was familiar, teasing, and it brought to mind the first morning they’d met.
But Razi had stopped talking to Frigga like that their first excursion out, like they were performing or playing some kind of game. What kind of relationship Razi had with those women was unclear, but Frigga was sure of one thing:
Razi hadn’t built them gardens.
Maybe her party tonight wasn’t what she’d have preferred, maybe she would ultimately have to sacrifice her heart to fulfil the expectations of her family and coven, and maybe she would have to marry a man. But for tonight, at least, Frigga would give in and let herself act as a woman in love. Maybe for the last time.
///
Frigga was bathed and manicured to perfection, and expensive oils were used in her unruly red curls in an attempt to tame them into an up-do with decent success. Her gown was a gorgeous floor-length royal blue dress with gold embroidery and trim and a gauzy, ethereal off-the shoulder sleeve that trailed as a cape down her back. The neckline was lower than Frigga would normally opt for, but it made room for a luxurious golden layered necklace with opals inlaid. A delicate gold tiara encrusted with sapphires was placed atop her finished hair, accented with gold chandelier earrings inlaid with more precious stones. It was an outfit fit for a princess and would be one of the most ornate gowns she would ever wear in her life. It felt rather like overkill and was not a garment she’d ever have picked, but looking at herself in the mirror had her standing up a bit straighter and holding her head higher. She felt powerful and proud and would carry herself with all the prestige of the Thorneheart name until the end of the evening. If things went her way, she’d throw all of it out the window once the party was done, but until then she would be the very picture of dignity and grace.
As Doris was placing the final gems into Frigga’s up-do, a knock at her door followed by a soft gasp announced her aunt’s arrival. Frigga looked at Sapphire in her vanity’s mirror, and the woman’s gloved hands were clasped over her mouth. “My Dear, you are radiant,” said her aunt.
Frigga smiled and nodded to Doris to take a break. “Thank you! You look beautiful too.” Her aunt was always dignified and elegant, tonight was no different in her silver and blue floor-length dress, elbow-length silver gloves, and the necklace she reserved for particularly special occasions. It was a layered pearl choker that supported the centrepiece, an exquisite oval-
cut sapphire surrounded by small diamonds. Classically simple and extravagantly stylish, it was an heirloom she’d received from her mother that Frigga would inherit when it was her time. Sapphire walked to her niece and squeezed her hands. “I have such a wonderful feeling about tonight and I truly hope you enjoy yourself. Come over here, I have a gift for you.” She led Frigga to the bench at the foot of the bed and brought out a small jewelry box covered in dark blue velvet. Frigga unlatched its simple brass closure it to find a circular gold pendant no larger than a thumbnail with a single small pearl inset. “It was your mother’s,” Sapphire explained, “given to her on her twenty-first birthday.”
Frigga’s heart ached, and she looked back up to her aunt. They didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but she knew Sapphire meant well. Frigga took after her mother and missed her deeply, so receiving something so precious meant everything to the young witch. “Thank you, Auntie,” she said, straining to keep her voice from cracking, “I love it so much.”
Her aunt helped put the pendant on Frigga’s simple chain, and it looked so natural, like it had been there the whole time. Sapphire put a gentle hand to Frigga’s cheek. “You look just like her, and I know she would be proud of you.”
Frigga really would start crying if they continued this line of conversation, so to preserve Doris expertly applied lash paints, she swallowed her initial reply and changed the subject. “I’m looking forward to seeing everyone tonight.”
Sapphire hummed. “I do want you to have fun,” she started, her kindly tone cooling to a formal one, “but it is more important that you make a good impression. You always do, but tonight is especially vital. You needn’t worry overly much about making a lot of conversation with anyone in particular, but I’d like you to speak with every guest at least a little bit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Frigga with a small nod.
“You will certainly be asked to dance by most of the eligible gentlemen. While you needn’t accept every offer, I would like to see you dance with every coven member and close coven affiliate if they ask.”
Frigga smiled in a way she was sure did not reach her eyes. “I’ll do my best to procure a marriage offer before the night’s end,” she joked.
Sapphire chuckled quietly and put a hand on Frigga’s shoulder. “Don’t worry overly much about that,” she said cryptically. “Of course, I’m happy to see our unmarried coven members mingle with members of high society, but I want your focus to be strictly on building amiable connections with as many of our distinguished guests as possible. Let me handle the rest.”
Frigga’s stomach twisted slightly; what did that mean? But she kept the question to herself. “I won’t let you down.”
Sapphire beamed and drew Frigga into a soft hug. “I know you won’t, Dear. You are the perfect example of what it means to be a Thorneheart, and everyone will appreciate that after tonight.”
Frigga was the last Thorneheart to be ready, so when her last curl had been set and the final touch’s final touches were completed, the birthday girl rushed from her room to meet her family at the bottom of the main staircase which was flanked by the staff ready to stow away any coats or bags that guests needed set aside. As she descended, Leland and Sapphire turned to greet her. Leland was dressed in a smart, navy blue suit to match his sister and aunt, and Frigga saw he was already antsy. He gawked at his sister and hollered, “Wow, you look awesome!”
She smiled and lightly curtsied as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Thank you! You look very handsome too.”
Leland grinned wickedly as he took up his spot between the two women, his aunt holding him lightly. “I don’t know if that dress is enough to make someone wanna marry you though. Might need to throw on another glamour.”
Frigga elbowed her barbaric brother as he cackled. The siblings light-heartedly jabbed at each other until Sapphire intervened and put herself between them. Frigga cast and exaggerated scowl at the boy who replied by sticking out his tongue.
“Now, now, you two,” said her aunt, “our guests will be arriving any second. Grace, elegance, and dignity.”
The family greeted the guests for the first half-hour as they entered the exquisitely decorated home, and it wasn’t long before everyone had arrived. While the home wasn’t as grand as some, it was more than enough to host the nearly three-hundred guests with room to spare. A local string quartet had been hired along with a pianist, extra hands had been borrowed from the Magnus-Monroe estate to help the house staff keep the guests supplied with food and drink, and the sparkling halls and rooms of the manor were filled with the sweet aroma of baking and the crisp scent of bergamot. Thorneheart Manor was used to hosting coven parties, the Summer and Winter Solstices saw the coven and their families annually, but it had been decades since the home had seen this level of polish and extravagance.
There were so many people to talk to, it made Frigga dizzy. Wade, the Morgansons Heir, made sure to let her know how gorgeous she was and how delighted he was to be in her presence with the smile Frigga had already seen about ten times since the beginning of the night aimed at multiple other women. He would have been charming if she was interested in thirty-year-old men, especially in the fitted navy blue Kurta he’d made sure to mention he brought in just for the occasion, but the over-effort was flattering anyway. There were several members of the city’s guard and governing council here with their families, and their sons made things awkward too.
Not an unfamiliar experience, she was very practiced in the fine art of letting men down gently, though it wasn’t every day the heiress was expected to do that and then grant a dance to eligible suitors afterward.
Frigga was delighted to catch up with some of the coven members she hadn’t visited since returning home. She’d been to a few meetings since then, but had been a little distracted and thus hadn’t visited every family as quickly as initially intended. She took the opportunity to ask Rosemary Honeywood about the family’s honey business and after Edna Downspire’s magical item crafting. That was always an interesting conversation, and Edna took the opportunity to embarrass her daughter Celeste by talking all about how the girl had accidentally exploded some family heirloom. The girl had wriggled out of her mother’s grasp and yanked Leland away from the conversation to hide as the adults didn’t bother to conceal their amusement.
Frigga even managed to have a brief conversation with Victoria Bloodswell, though the interaction had been brief as she’d lost track of her Heir Rosalind and was looking around for them. The woman had lost her husband the year before, so Frigga understood if the woman was more on edge than usual. But they did have a sanitized, small-talk-filled conversation, and the younger witch couldn’t help but notice the woman, nearly forty years her senior, reminded her of a particular teacher she’d been attracted to at school. Victoria was beautiful in a sharp way, her pale skin contrasted the midnight hair styled in a low bun that was decorated with golden hair barrettes, and she wore a modest dress in her family’s traditional colours of gold and scarlet. Despite Victoria being obviously striking, the observation made Frigga supremely uncomfortable and she banished the thought immediately. Though she had a grudge against the Thorneheart family generally, Victoria had a particularly fraught relationship with Sapphire that went beyond a family-based heirloom grudge. Luckily, Victoria seemed neutral towards Frigga, so it wasn’t difficult to be polite and welcoming to the distinguished witch.
Between her obligatory visits with her guests and various younger gentlemen vying for her attention, Frigga barely had a moment to enjoy the refreshments. She’d barely eaten a thing all day so when the birthday girl was finally afforded such an opportunity, she stole a samosa, swallowing in nearly whole, and slipped out the back door to catch some air. Even the veranda had been decorated with hanging flowers and floating lights, making it a quiet escape from the event.
She hadn’t been the only one with that idea. She slipped out the door and found someone already. Rosalind Bloodswell was leaning pensively on their elbows on the iron railing. They wore a fitted black suit under the jacket they always wore, black lace atop black velvet with gold topstitching and embroidery evocative of a spine and ribcage stitched down the back. This was complimented by a few gold stud earrings in each ear and a small golden star dangling from a golden chain on one side of their face that matched their delicate collar pins. They were about six
years older than Frigga so the two weren’t close, not that Rosalind was close with anyone; they kept to themself and were always silent during coven meetings which wasn’t difficult considering their mother spoke enough for two.
When she shut the door behind her with a small click, Rosalind turned and looked dully at Frigga. Their short jet hair asymmetrically framed their disinterested expression, a default setting of theirs, and their narrow eyes swept over Frigga vacantly. The glow of the lights only made their smooth, fair skin seem like it too was glowing, though the apples of their slender cheeks and the very tip of their nose were barely flushed due to the evening’s slight chill.
Frigga smiled politely and hoped that her disappointment wasn’t evident. Would she ever catch a break? Her duties would continue forever at this rate. “Sorry to bother you, I was getting a bit warm.”
Rosalind did not reply but looked back out to the pond, shifting away from Frigga when she stood next to them. She maintained a polite distance but did notice Rosalind had started to play with the edges of their jacket. “So, um, your mother had mentioned about you working on something new? How’s that going?”
“She wasn’t meant to speak of it, I’m unsure how it will pan out.” Their tone was icy, as if Frigga had trespassed, and their expression had shifted from disinterest to displeasure. Frigga’s stomach twisted. “Oh, my apologies. She just made it sound so interesting. I was curious.”
Rosalind sighed, still staring out to the forest, letting uncomfortable silence manifest further. Frigga wasn't sure what to say, if anything. She barely knew anything about them, but she was very aware they weren’t interested in small talk. Rosalind was known to disappear the instant someone attempted it, and Frigga genuinely wanted to get to know them a little. There was no point in their two families having animosity if it could be mended, but the deafening silence sitting between the two of them now was oppressive.
Finally, they replied, their hands still fidgeting with their sleeves, but their tone softened. “I’ve, um… I’ve been working with crystals and channelling energy into them. In theory, we might be capable of channeling spirits into them, but…I don’t know if that’s possible in practice.” Their uncertain eyes quickly shifted up to Frigga but darted away instantly.
Frigga grasped for a way to deepen the conversation, but she barely knew where to start. “That is fascinating. Does that work in tandem with your family’s necromancy?” “Yes.”
They were definitely not a talker. “Well, please let me know if I can help at all. It sounds promising.”
Rosalind stood up straight and looked at Frigga, their face carefully neutral despite having shoved their hands into their jacket pockets. “Thank you, Miss Thorneheart.”
Frigga winced but kept her very polite smile intact. “Please, I just want everyone to call me Frigga.”
Rosalind furrowed their brow slightly. It was decidedly not how Sapphire chose to run things, but Frigga was already exhausted by so much formality. They seemed to be about to say something, but then changed their mind and looked back out towards the forest.
A beat passed between them, and Rosalind did not offer more opportunities for Frigga to pick up a natural conversation thread. The silence between the two of them rang out like fork prongs scraping a plate. Frigga was sure she wasn’t the only one who felt it, but she was unsure how to continue. She thought to ask Rosalind more about their work when they actually questioned her. “You attended the university in Bluehaven?”
Thank the gods. If Rosalind was bringing up the topic, there was clearly something in particular they were interested in so Frigga jumped on the opportunity as a weight lifted off her. “Yes, have you been?”
“I went to the same school. I…” They looked back up to Frigga and then up to a nearby floating orb, as if they were unsure if they should say what they were about to, “Did you ever meet the librarian’s daughter?”
Frigga thought back. She’d spent a lot of time in the library while away, but she had usually been under a pile of assignments and books. Still, she was pretty sure she remembered the woman. “Sage Summerest?”
“How was she?”
“She got married last winter, and her wife had a baby. You knew her?”
Rosalind nodded, their expression still neutral but a bit more vacant than it had been before as they looked back out on the property. “We were close, but it’s been years.” They fell silent for a moment before smiling gently. “I’m glad she’s happy.”
This was a nice side of them Frigga hadn’t seen before, but she steered the conversation into less personal territory to keep Rosalind comfortable. “What was your area of focus while you were there?”
Rosalind’s brows lifted and their smile brightened. “Energy. Want to see?” Frigga nodded eagerly. It was rare to see the personal practices of her coven members, and Rosalind in particular was quiet about their work. They lifted their right palm up and summoned a small ball that glowed red, illuminating Rosalind’s sharp features and dark eyes. “As you know, witch’s energy has a primary form it takes, but,” and in a flash the light sparked into a soft red flame, “it is possible to alter that primary setting and master other forms,” and then in another flash the flame became a red electric current running along their fingers, “to a certain extent,” another flash, the energy morphed into red, water-like blobs floating in the air.
Frigga looked on in amazement. Any witch could produce a flame, but it was something else to shift one’s pure magic into a state different than its natural form. Frigga’s took on an ethereal, royal blue glow, her aunt’s a cold electric current. For that energy to shift, and in such a smooth and effortless transferral? It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. “That was beautiful!”
Rosalind smiled appreciatively and closed their palm around the energy, smothering the red light. “Thank you. You studied Illusory magic, I think?”
She was about to answer when the door slid open and interrupted. Frigga looked to find Razi, dressed up in her manor-issued formalwear: crisp black slacks with a deep blue button-down shirt and gold tie that complimented her dark skin, and Frigga’s heart nearly broke from just the sight of her. “Ah, sorry Miss Thorneheart,” Razi looked at the woman and then to Rosalind, “And Mx Bloodswell, I apologize for disturbin’ you. Your mother asked for you back.”
“Of course she did,” Rosalind sighed, their smile from before was gone. They offered a hand to Frigga and held hers briefly. “Happy birthday, Frigga. Please excuse me.” They gave a small bow, turned, and walked too silently inside. As they went, they glanced at Razi, then again at Frigga before closing the door behind them.
Leaving Razi and Frigga alone. Finally.
Razi hadn’t taken her eyes off of Frigga since she’d first laid eyes on her, and Frigga couldn’t take hers away from Razi either. When the door shut, Frigga walked up to her and took her hand. “I was hoping to see you tonight.”
Razi was still staring at her, dumbstruck, but when Frigga placed her hand at Razi’s waist, the woman regained her faculties. “Holy fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she whispered, and her voice sounded like she was in pain.
Frigga had heard that compliment all night, but hearing it from Razi was different. Especially when the woman said it like that, like “you’re so beautiful” were the last words Razi was ever going to say. The witch flushed. “Thank you. I had to make sure that I wouldn’t be outdone by you, Handsome,” she flirted, fluttering her lashes to lay it on thick.
The attendant snorted and looked down at the floor. “Aw, come on,” she said bashfully. Frigga didn’t know Razi could be bashful, not seriously, but the taller woman seemed just a bit smaller than usual.
Frigga smiled and tugged Razi down for a quick kiss, and the self-consciousness Razi seemed to be feeling melted away, replaced by affection. Frigga asked, “How did you know Rosalind was out here?”
“Vampire Junior?” Frigga squinted at the nickname, but Razi just grinned. “They always hide out ‘ere, an’ I saw you escape. Luckily, Lady Vampire’s so uptight ‘bout where Junior is at all times, I took th’ opportunity as soon as I could.”
Frigga didn’t doubt it. “I’m sure I should be getting back to everyone, but I wanted to ask.” She glanced at the door quickly and lowered her voice. “Would you like to meet me later?” Razi’s brow knit in confusion. “What d’you mean?”
“I want you to bring me to your room after the party,” Frigga lifted a hand to cup Razi’s cheek, “and I want you.”
Frigga watched the woman come to grips with what she was being asked. Razi blinked as the confusion gave way to pleasant surprise, and she leaned in for another kiss, sliding her hand under Frigga’s chin. She parted and asked, “You sure you’d be up for tha’ after all this bullshit?”
“Absolutely.” Frigga smiled. Her gaze was heavy and her tone was laden with amorous intention. “I’d put up with much more than this if it meant I could have you for a night.” “Wish I could ‘av at you right now,” Razi purred as her hands wandered slightly lower than she’d dared before. “I can arrange it all, if you wan’.”
“I’ll come to the kitchen after it’s all over,” Frigga agreed.
Razi placed a kiss on Frigga’s forehead. “Even if we’re careful, y’might get seen.” “I trust you,” Frigga said. “I can’t wait for you any longer, Razi.”
Razi’s brows raised with surprise at the naked desire in the statement. “Gods, woman, you’re gon’ kill me. Or get me killed, one or th’ other.”
Frigga pressed her body to Razi’s again, smiling mischievously. “No, I’m going to make you feel alive.” After one final, stolen kiss that dripped with anticipation like honey, Razi opened the door and followed Frigga as she stepped back inside and disappeared into the background.
Frigga was asked to dance a few more times by different guests, some her age, some significantly older. As the mayor’s cousin started asking some very personal questions and his hands wandered to places they ought not, she was saved by her favourite dance partner of the evening, Marcus Magnus-Monroe, Theodore’s only child and Heir. He was slender, comfortably tall, and possessed the longest blond hair Frigga had ever seen which was always tied back with a ribbon. Marcus wasn’t a classical vision of handsome, his face was long and his lips thin, but the genuine smile he wore at all times was so charming and warm that it lent him handsomeness. He was well-known within her social circle as being an airhead and too flamboyant to be taken completely seriously, but he was a delight to anyone he conversed with as he spoke with sincere interest. The man could get a hermit to party, if he made his mind up to.
As they danced, Marcus asked Frigga about her horticultural hobby and she asked after his poetry. He was mainly interested in contemporary work, but from time to time the man imported historical or foreign books of poetry as well. The two hadn’t grown up together, Frigga knew him for two years before she’d gone away to school, but the Magnus-Monroes and Thornehearts had always been incredibly close. He was one of the only people in town Frigga might consider a
friend. She wished, if she had to spend the night with all these important people, she could spend the rest of it with him; he always made her laugh and always made her feel comfortable. Unlike many of the gentlemen vying for her attention tonight, Marcus never treated her merely like a potential bride he might court or a future leader with whom he might win favour, but as a respected friend who’s company he truly enjoyed.
As the room’s energy withered, guests began to take their leave. It was with relief that Frigga took her place beside her aunt near the door to bid their guests farewell. After the door closed behind the final guest, Sapphire turned to Frigga to put a hand on her niece’s shoulder. “Well done, Frigga,” she praised. “That went extremely well.”
Frigga smiled, relief and weariness colouring it. “Thank you, but I think I’d like to take tomorrow off from my studies if possible. I’m very tired.”
Sapphire gave her niece a quick hug. “That will be fine. I have a meeting with Theodore, but you’re not expected to join us and there isn’t anything else happening tomorrow.” As Frigga gave a nod, Sapphire gave one last affectionate smile before turning and making her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Frigga waited until her aunt was out of sight at the foot of the stairs. Her heart quickened; this was her chance! She looked in the direction of the kitchen, visible from where she stood. She had one person on her mind and one goal, and there was nothing that would stand in her way. She had put up with the frivolous games required of her tonight, she’d been angelically patient, and now she was going to do something about these enormous feelings for Razi because she’d already waited too long.
Before Frigga could tiptoe towards the kitchen door, it slid silently open and her knight in shining armour stepped out. Razi met Frigga as she rushed towards her full of purpose. In the shadow of the main stairway, the two of them crashed into each other, kissing and touching as if they’d been apart for weeks. It was short but furious and Frigga’s head spun as the weight of expectation fell from her shoulders replaced with unrestrained desire. Once their wordless greeting was done, Razi took Frigga’s hand with a boyish smirk and led her through a side-hall that was used by servants who needed to cross the house undetected. The heiress’ gown barely fit in the dim, stone-lined hallway, but Frigga didn’t care. She kept close to Razi as they wound through a winding corridor until they finally spilled out into a normal hallway. Frigga had never been to this part of the house, but it felt significantly older than the rest of it; the rugs and light fixtures were at least twenty years old, and the stone was the darker shade that had been popular a hundred years prior.
Finally, Razi came to a small recess with two wooden doors across from each other. On each door was a nameplate on top of a small mail slot. The nameplate on the right was blank but the one on the left read “R. Wood” in faded, unrefined printing. It was at this door Razi pulled out a
key and opened the door, holding it open like a proper gentleman. “After you, Princess,” she said with a bow.
Frigga’s heart was already racing, but an unanticipated calm and singular focus settled upon her as she entered the suite. She was curious to see Razi’s home, but she had no eyes for it right now. Instead, she stood next to the nearby double bed and watched as Razi stole a look down the hallway to ensure their privacy before closing the door with practiced, silent swiftness.
Razi leaned back on the door as she unhooked her keyring and hung it up. Her eyes remained on Frigga, and the woman’s smirk had been replaced with something more contemplative. “It’s so weird seein’ you in ‘ere in tha’,” she said, looking at the ballgown. “Feels like a crime.”
Frigga kept her eyes locked on Razi. “Then come get me out of it,” she replied prettily. Razi swallowed dryly, walked up to her, and kissed Frigga with a thick, syrupy slow kiss, her fingertips brushing lightly over Frigga’s arms. It was the kind of kiss that made Frigga’s knees weak, made her whine with need, made her desperate for more. Razi pulled away minutely and caught Frigga’s eye. “Y’ sure ‘bout this?”
Frigga coyly smiled. “Do you really think I haven’t thought through this to death already?” Razi chuckled as she ran a single finger over the exposed skin of the witch’s shoulders and collar bones, making Frigga shiver. “My mistake,” she murmured. “On your own head be it, yeah?”
They began breaking Frigga free, and Razi ran her fingers over skin as it was exposed. She planted kisses on her shoulders, her neck, anywhere she could reach. She stood behind Frigga to undo the laces of the gown as carefully as she could manage, but it would take some time. She was used to a knot, but the lacing Doris had opted for was complicated.
The bodice gave slightly, and Frigga wanted to rip the dress off her in her impatience. “Raz?” Frigga said in a low, soft tone. Razi hummed in reply, her hands still working. “I have a rule for tonight.”
The working hands halted as she directed her full attention to Frigga and placed another kiss to her neck, murmuring against skin. “What’s tha’?”
Frigga savoured the sensation of Razi’s lips on her skin, her eyes fluttered shut. “I’m not anything tonight. I’m not a witch, I’m not an heiress, I’m nothing.”
Razi smiled, softly exhaled, and continued her task. “Sure,” she answered with an air of amusement. The bodice finally sighed open and Razi helped Frigga step out of it, leaving the witch with just her slip and jewelry.
“I don’t think you get it,” she continued, turning her back to Razi again to grant access to the ornate necklace clasps. Frigga’s stomach began twisting with nerves, but she ignored it; she was going to see this through. “I’m so fucking tired of being treated like a delicate vase. I’m not going to break.”
Razi had started to unclasp Frigga’s necklace but paused at the last sentence. “’S kinda hot when you talk like tha’,” she said, and her hands resumed her work. She finally managed to undo the clasps and gently set the necklace down on the nearest table’s surface.
Frigga picked at her hair to get all the jewelry out, and the braids began to loose from their fastenings. “I’m not some shining beacon of purity, and I’m certainly not as naive as everyone thinks.” As she said this, Frigga turned to look at Razi who had just laid the antique necklace down on a low table nearby.
Razi grinned as she caught Frigga’s eye before pointedly looking her over, scanning her body up and down with naked lust. “I don’ think anything of th’ sort, Frigga.”
Frigga finally released her hair from the up-do and it unfurled into a single braid down her exposed back. She set her handful of hair gems on the table next to her necklaces and leaned in close to Razi. “Good,” she whispered, “no thinking. Now kiss me.”
