[center][color=lightgray][h2]Lienna Orhhneaht[/h2][/color][/center]
The ride from Lienna’s village in the far north had been long and laborious, but as the long journey required earlier leaving time, she had been one of the first Gems to arrive. Like the other early arrivals, she had been whisked off to a private dressing room, stripped out of her fur-lined coat, boots and trousers and treated to a fragrant bath and a new dress. The bath had been cold, but she’d easily been able to warm it to steaming, filling the room with fragrance she’d never experienced before; it was sweet and earthy, and the closest comparison she could draw was that of the towering evergreens of her home. The dress was simple, really; sheer white lace with a chocolate brown sash and seaglass jewelry,complete with a modest backward headdress, to finish it off. It was the first time she’d ever worn a dress, the first time she’d had her legs shaven (an attendant had needed to help her) and the first time she’d ever smelled like flowers. In fact, the only thing that had really remained the same was the ivory owl her mother had given her, nestled in the bosom of her dress. 

She’d done her crying in the carriage. Her lamentation? Long before the dress was on. She saw no point in fretting now, for fighting a riptide would only serve to drown her. She knew from the horror stories that circled the country what she was in for, and while it frightened her, she had made peace with the fact that there was nothing she could do. She’d managed to take a colder attitude toward the whole affair, and had vowed to herself that she would do whatever she must to make this new life easier. So, instead of shivering and working herself up over her predicament, she closed her eyes and let the new, soothing smell of her hair calm her. 

[i]”Choose the path of least resistance, child,”[/i] her mother had told her, [i]”Water always finds a way.”[/i]

She was paraded into the grand hall with the other Gem brides, most of them with eyes still red from crying, some shaking in their garments. The hall itself was enough to encourage a lump in Lienna’s throat; it was clearly of Gem construction, and she had little doubt that its glassy marble floor and shining walls would soon de defiled with screams and bloodshed. However, she swallowed the lump in her throat after a moment with relative ease. She’d only seen true gem architecture once, in the home of a noble family near her village. That very family had scorned her mother for keeping an attractive daughter around instead of sending her away. No, the architecture didn’t make her long for home; it simply reminded her of what she could never have had there. Perhaps, she thought, she’d have a grand home of her own now after all. 

No sooner had the first brides been paraded in than the Drakken were beginning to eagerly snap them up. One girl was roughly and loudly pulled away by a blonde Drakken with long, imposing horns. They made quite the racket, and Lienna had to turn away from them, too sickened to watch. However, a low voice boomed through the room: a challenger. She looked back, expecting bloodshed and morbidly interested but, to her surprise, none came. The shorter of the two said something to the blonde one and, after a brief standoff, the blonde released his bride and stormed away, leaving an upturned foreign servant in his wake. 

So little time had she been there and she had already watched the room steadily flux with attendants; a new ‘shipment’ of sniffling Gems followed by another crowd of hungry Drakken, who would whisk their choices away and restart the cycle. And all the while, Lienna stood watching, detached; a rock amidst the tide. However, soon after a few more girls were escorted inside, she spotted a dark-haired Drakken with one broken horn eyeing her hungrily. He said something she couldn’t hear to what appeared to be a friend and began to approach her, beady black eyes boring into hers. In the back of her mind, she remarked that his eyes looked like those of a seal after clubbing; bloodshot and dead. 

She couldn’t help but grimace when the man’s smell reached her; he stank of alcohol and travel, and his ‘musk’ seemed to be physically tangible in the air. Growling cruelly, he grunted a short “You’ll do” and took her roughly by the arm, unceremoniously dragging her, to he disgust, back to his friend. Lienna pulled against his grip, for even though she'd resolved herself to go quietly, she’d be damned if she ended up with a creature so repulsive. Of course, her actions were moot against brute strength. Still, Lienna was a quick thinker: closing her eyes, she concentrated on summoning water from the air, generating enough to condense on her hand and allow her to slip free.

Shocked that her plan had worked, Lienna backed up a few steps and concentrated once again on collecting water, with the intent to make a sharp icicle, but was quickly recaptured by her claimant. 

“How dare you, whore!” he gurgled, taking her arm in a grip near-tight enough to break it, drawing an involuntary yelp from Lienna and raising his free hand, “You’ll learn some manners before the night is done!”