The Earth Mother's Child
Chapter 1:
Havaniavere
One cold, September morning, the earth mother had a baby. This may not seem unusual, for the earth mother gave birth to many things, and all things grew upon her surface. This baby was not a tree, or a sunflower, or even a berry patch however. No this baby was a human girl, born while the mother was in human form, resting in a grassy hollow beside an ancient oak. This, of course, made the little baby girl much more than a mere human, but for the purposes of this story, she was raised to believe she was.
Havaniavere, or the earth mother in disguise, met and fell in love with a wandering human male, who was leaning against an apple tree late at night. That she fell in love might be a little strong to describe her feelings, for she never saw him again in human form. She always watched over his life, though, and loved their daughter more than life itself. The tree was heavily laiden with apples, their red color bleached white by the moonlight. One heavily laiden branch hovered just above the man's head, drooping low and swaying in the breeze. This is how Havaniavere found him.
He was sitting cross legged, his hands on his knees, palms upturned to the dark sky. Her tread was nearly silent as she approached him, and he was staring far off into space. She watched him silently for a few moments, tilting her hooded head from side to side. A pool of heat formed in her belly as she gazed at him, and she nodded slightly to herself. This one would do. He was not strong in magic, having only a trickle far back in his bloodline, but his strong character, combined with her own magic should just about do the trick.
"There is an apple about to fall upon your head," she mused in a husky, yet pleasant voice. "Shall I pluck it and spare you some pain?"
Her voice had a faint lilt to it, slow and rolling. Her vowels were long, though not drawn out. The man blinked and looked up at the woman, gazing vaguely at her as though he couldn't comprehend why she would be speaking to him. She reached out, plucking the large, round apple from the branch. She bent down, shining the apple on the man's shirt, rising back to her full height and stepping back with the shiny apple. Then slowly and deliberately, she took a large bite, chewing slowly and savoring the juicey taste on her tongue.
She stood an impressive six feet tall, her lush, curvy body draped in a flowing brown cloak. Her hands were large and calloused, her fingernails crusted with dirt. Her skin was the color of mahogany, coated with a light dusting of soil. Her long, rich black hair escaped the deep hood of the cloak in stray wisps, and flakes of earth seemed to rain lightly down from every inch of her, covered or not. The apple stained her mouth red, the juice dribbling down her plump lips to her square chin. She stood there almost in silence, her mouth the only thing moving as she chewed.
The man watched her and smiled faintly. He must be dreaming, he decided. No woman would ever come looking for him in the middle of the night when he should have been long home and in bed. Should he get up? He decided not to. If this was a dream, he decided to let it play out. He merely watched the woman instead, remaining perfectly still.
The woman sat next to the man, leaving a respectful distance between the two of them. In three more large bites, the apple was finished and she dug a small hole in the earth for the core. Then she turned to face him, reached out those large hands, and lifted his up, inspecting them.
"I can see that you love to read and write," she said, brushing a dirty finger against his ink stained thumb. "I can also see that you work with teeth."
She opened her mouth, exposing large, mossy teeth that were straight, if not well brushed. The man gaped at them in horror, running a tongue along his own, completely white and clean teeth. The woman chuckled softly, a low, almost rumbling sound.
"I am Havaniavere," she murmured, moving a little closer to the man. "What is your name, stranger?"
"Herman," the man mumbled. "Herman Granger."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Herman Granger," said Havaniavere, her apple reddened lips inches from Herman's. "I'm going to kiss you now. Stay still."
Havaniavere winked one large brown eye and Herman remained still. This was only a dream, after all. He was going to wake up at home in bed with his favorite book on the night stand beside him. He was going to go to work and think about the amazing sex the woman had given him and later, when he came home, he was going to think about it some more. Herman decided he liked that idea. Havaniavere kissed him, a firm, deep kiss and Herman remembered no more.
The sex was not gentle. It was not slow. It was rough and wild and needy and Havaniavere took all that Herman had to offer. After she had drunk her fill, so to speak, she pressed earth covered fingertips to Herman's eyes and bid him sleep and forget. Then she snapped her fingers and the earth rose up, swallowing Herman whole and transporting him back home.
"Aaaaaah," sighed Havaniavere, licking her lips. "That is exactly what I needed. My dear Hermia will have a sad, lonely childhood but she will have help and kindness too. She will have pain and sorrow, but she will also have love and tenderness."
The earth rose up around her, washing against her thighs. She sank slowly down, vanishing into her base form, millions of particals of earth speeding away with their prize. The earth rumbled and shook, a small, barely noticed tremor in the night.
Herman woke the next day, stretched out in bed and completely filthy. He was also naked, sticky and who knew what else. He looked down at himself with a scowl.
"Damn neighbors must have played a prank on me," he decided. "Took me out of bed and rolled me around in dirt and sap."
He mumbled and grumbled as he got up, stumbling to the bathroom. He felt dizzy and strange. He felt drained and floppy and out of it. He had no idea how he'd gotten outside, no idea he had been taken advantage of by a curvy, earth covered woman and no idea that in nine months, a little baby girl would be placed upon his doorstep in an oaken cradle lined with moss. He took a short, but thorough shower and got himself dressed for work.
"I have a date with Ann tonight," he reminded himself. "Got to get going and not mess up."
He whistled off key as he made his lunch. Then he put on his shoes and went to work. He did not notice the pile of dirt on his porch steps, nor that the trees surrounding his small house looked a lot greener and more sturdy than they did last night.
A/N Please read and review. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows.