Onni was surprised to discover that the seating for the wedding feast had been pre-assigned, with tiny written tags marking each plate. The fact that he had not been placed at the same table as the expedition team was no real surprise--he was not part of their group, after all--and his vague hopes of sitting near Reynir had, of course, been extremely foolish. Still, sitting down at a table full of strangers filled him with dread, which doubled when he noticed his neighbour: the woman who had kept talking to him during the ceremony, asking intrusive questions about the intimate applications of Finnish runos.
“Ah, Onni, we meet again!” she exclaimed, smiling far too widely. “Isn’t it just wonderful?”
“Hmm.”
“So, where were we?” She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “I believe you were going to tell me more about Finnish sex magic?”
She had clearly misunderstood something fundamental about his description of the prayers one might offer up to Lempo. Seeking to fortify himself, Onni grabbed for a nearby bottle of aquavit and filled his glass to the brim.
The woman gasped. “I have heard that Finns drink a lot, of course, but… Doesn’t it impair your sexual performance?”
What? Onni sipped on his drink to buy time as he looked around wildly, praying for any sort of escape. Oddly, his prayers were answered. By a vision in blue and green.
“Onni!” Reynir exclaimed cheerfully. “There you are! But why are you sitting all the way over here? I am sure I placed--”
“Your delightful Finnish friend,” said the woman, placing a hand on Onni’s forearm, “is sitting with me.”
Reynir looked from Onni to her and back again, his smile turning upside down. “Wow! I see! You moved your name card?”
“I would have, if I had known it was possible. But wait.” Onni turned to the woman. “Does that mean that… YOU moved it?”
She simpered. “Yes. Aren’t you glad I did?”
“No.”
“That’s right, Eva.” Reynir had placed his hands on his hips. “Onni is not interested in flirtation! Particularly not with strangers!”
“Then why is his tunic covered in love staves?”
Honestly, this woman! What a one-track mind: first the obsession with Lempo sex runos, and now this. “Actually,” said Onni, “they are--”
“Actually,” said Reynir, snatching up Onni’s name card, “Onni needs to come with me. I am reversing this seating rearrangement.”
I would appear that, when Reynir enchanted his tunic, he did not consider how the act of wearing something covered in staves for luck in love might be perceived...
