Post by Verasque on Sept 5, 2009 1:53:25 GMT 10
Title: Benediction
Rating: PG-13
Length: 555
Category: Tortall
Summary: Seven steps for when heaven meets earth.
Peculiar Pairing: The Goddess/Jonathan IV
Notes: Major worshipping below! And, because and for the girls on evening chat. You know who you are.
I
He had stumbled, exhausted and pained and utterly human, out of the Chamber doors. Not a whisper or a moan escaped those bleeding lips; lips whose blood had been wiped away by a gracefully aging hand holding a faded handkerchief -- Lianne embroidered neatly on the corner like strings of melted silver.
It was odd, this sudden novelty, for she had never paid much attention to him as a youth. But the Chamber had called to her like it did all the gods every time a Conte went through. And this one…
He might not have been a sun god, but he was the most exquisite mortal she’d seen in over a century.
II
The girl was hauntingly alluring; her short brown hair cut rough around her shoulders to match her rich russet eyes. He had seen her around the Temple District, poised and pouting and purposely baiting him with her round face and sparkling laughter.
Both his father and Gary had carelessly waved her off as a coy little chit, but when she appeared on his balcony three evenings later, he had teased a stray dark curl and lost some of his heart.
As he let her tug him back towards his bed; he felt as if he was forgetting something.
III
His eyes hinted at the greatness of his destiny. And a goddess never layed with anyone more than a man, but less than a King.
IV
This was madness. He knew nothing of her name, her origins, her intentions.
But he did know that she possessed not a single marr on her perfect white skin. Because as he reached his peak, brown hair turned into long raven locks of living silk, and piercing emerald eyes pushed him over the edge.
“Jonathan,” she breathed, and he believed he’d never live again.
He was no longer simply a newly-knighted Crown Prince of Tortall. He was Jonathan, man and maker, touched by the gods.
V
She asked him to wait a short moment. He rolled away with a frustrated sigh. She sharpened her eyes and resisted the urge to shatter his bones. He was vain, spoilt, arrogant, stubborn, and had a streak of ruthlessness that was so inherent to human folly.
He was young, and a prince. But he was her guilty pleasure, her brother’s secret star.
Who else would love him, if all could not bother to see the part of him he never showed?
VI
He wondered then if his father, grandfather, great grandfather, and all the Crown Princes before him had been beheld like this. Yet, as her fingers brushed his ribs and trailed down past his stomach, he felt a fierce jealousy lash out against his thoughts.
She might have beheld mortal men before, but none of them would revere her like he.
VII
Satisfied, she left him with a parting kiss. Her charge would be in solid hands, and Tortall… Tortall had a golden future to look forward to.
He would be strong enough to be hated and feared -- as much as he would be loved. For only mortals could feel such strong feeling towards a man they thought they knew, but truly didn’t. Mithros may be the one who knew him above all; but her husband could not touch Jonathan of Conte the way that she did.
Rating: PG-13
Length: 555
Category: Tortall
Summary: Seven steps for when heaven meets earth.
Peculiar Pairing: The Goddess/Jonathan IV
Notes: Major worshipping below! And, because and for the girls on evening chat. You know who you are.
I
He had stumbled, exhausted and pained and utterly human, out of the Chamber doors. Not a whisper or a moan escaped those bleeding lips; lips whose blood had been wiped away by a gracefully aging hand holding a faded handkerchief -- Lianne embroidered neatly on the corner like strings of melted silver.
It was odd, this sudden novelty, for she had never paid much attention to him as a youth. But the Chamber had called to her like it did all the gods every time a Conte went through. And this one…
He might not have been a sun god, but he was the most exquisite mortal she’d seen in over a century.
II
The girl was hauntingly alluring; her short brown hair cut rough around her shoulders to match her rich russet eyes. He had seen her around the Temple District, poised and pouting and purposely baiting him with her round face and sparkling laughter.
Both his father and Gary had carelessly waved her off as a coy little chit, but when she appeared on his balcony three evenings later, he had teased a stray dark curl and lost some of his heart.
As he let her tug him back towards his bed; he felt as if he was forgetting something.
III
His eyes hinted at the greatness of his destiny. And a goddess never layed with anyone more than a man, but less than a King.
IV
This was madness. He knew nothing of her name, her origins, her intentions.
But he did know that she possessed not a single marr on her perfect white skin. Because as he reached his peak, brown hair turned into long raven locks of living silk, and piercing emerald eyes pushed him over the edge.
“Jonathan,” she breathed, and he believed he’d never live again.
He was no longer simply a newly-knighted Crown Prince of Tortall. He was Jonathan, man and maker, touched by the gods.
V
She asked him to wait a short moment. He rolled away with a frustrated sigh. She sharpened her eyes and resisted the urge to shatter his bones. He was vain, spoilt, arrogant, stubborn, and had a streak of ruthlessness that was so inherent to human folly.
He was young, and a prince. But he was her guilty pleasure, her brother’s secret star.
Who else would love him, if all could not bother to see the part of him he never showed?
VI
He wondered then if his father, grandfather, great grandfather, and all the Crown Princes before him had been beheld like this. Yet, as her fingers brushed his ribs and trailed down past his stomach, he felt a fierce jealousy lash out against his thoughts.
She might have beheld mortal men before, but none of them would revere her like he.
VII
Satisfied, she left him with a parting kiss. Her charge would be in solid hands, and Tortall… Tortall had a golden future to look forward to.
He would be strong enough to be hated and feared -- as much as he would be loved. For only mortals could feel such strong feeling towards a man they thought they knew, but truly didn’t. Mithros may be the one who knew him above all; but her husband could not touch Jonathan of Conte the way that she did.