Balance And Control

Bláth Oráiste

Okay, so I love Druig’s accent, it’s so sensual and lovely and gets me all hot and bothered no matter how hard it can be to understand. When we moved away from Germania, we ended up in Ireland and everyone there had Druig’s accent. It was like heaven. Everyone called me “beautiful” or “love”, complimented my hair or my “glittering emerald eyes,” offered me goats or yards of silk and wool.

But as much as I loved, it drove me insane! It was like they thought I was some princess or goddess or something. It was the same for the other female Eternals as well because we looked so “exotic”, which was interesting because I was very eurocentric in design. I didn’t like being treated as better than everyone else (and I know that sounds like I’m an attention whore trying to be humble), it made me feel like a fraud. These people who thought so highly of me, treated me so kindly, had no idea I was a supernatural being, sent to their planet by a creator of worlds to protect them from murder beasts. Don’t even get me started on how they felt about Thena; if I was a princess, she was a queen.

Anyway, back to the positive. Ikaris and Druig were being a lot more attentive to Sersi and me, almost to the point that it was suffocating. Why is that? The answer is simple: jealousy. The attention of all the handsome locals was really fueling it. Not that jealousy wasn’t a two way street. There were plenty of local girls with their long curly locks and bright beautiful eyes batting their lashes at the boys every time we went out for a stroll. 

“I know we have nothing to worry about, but my heart clenches whenever one of those busty, hourglass figure, blonde hair, blue eyed wenches winks in his direction,” I complained to Sersi one afternoon. 

“I know what you mean. That woman yesterday was practically sitting in his lap at the tavern,” she sighed. 

“I mean I’m glad that tunics are a thing of the past and now we get skirts and bustiers and corsets, but now all the women are even hotter. I can’t compete with that. I’m not sure I want to. I catch myself staring more than he does. But is he ever jealous of the women? No.” 

“Oh, he definitely is. The vein throbs no matter what gender your gaze lingers on,” she snickered. 

“We should go find them. But first, we do a makeover!” 

“I don’t know, I prefer my suit.”

“It’s not very inconspicuous. Come on, I can make you hot! Ikaris won’t be able to keep his hands off you,” I winked. 

“Okay, fine.” 

The first step was a peasant blouse made of white linen with billowing sleeves that flared out at the elbow. The next layer was the corset which I pulled tightly enough that her cleavage was perfect but she could still breathe. I skipped the stockings since we weren’t planning to wear the garb for long, just long enough to seduce our men. The underskirt or petticoat was thick and green (obviously), the top skirt a warm brown. I pinned her hair back from her face so that it fell down her back in loose waves. 

“You’ll be the envy of all!” I squealed, positioning her in front of my mirror so she could appreciate my handiwork. 

“That’s not possible if you’re there,” she smirked. 

“Lady Sersi, you charm me.” 

I dressed the same as Sersi, just with a purple underskirt (again, obviously). I let my hair, which now reached just below my boobs, hang loosely around my face, the white and black pieces prominent as ever. 

We both slipped on our boots, linked arms, and headed into the village. The tavern was in the farthest, darkest corner of Bláth Oráiste, situated between a boarding house and a gambling den. Women and men alike, dressed scantily in as little clothing as possible without being completely naked, lurked in the alleyways, luring patrons with promises of promiscuity.