DISCLAIMER: These characters are over 2000 years old, and stolen Virgil, who stole them from Homer,
which really makes them 3000 years old. Im just writting fanfiction based on fanfiction.
Gotta love ancient history... (and Roman feminist femslash woot!)
Note: WORK IN PROGRESS!
"Daughter step back!" old Latinus cried,
The indecisive man's assertion set in his eyes,
"I shall not stand for this insolence on this fighters field,
Return to the city, and await for Latiums results,
Whatever blow wins, will your married hand shall yield!"
Lavinia stood, watching helplessly the needless assults,
Like an ox above cattle, her fair face rose,
On that stump of Faunus, auspicious ground,
The dark furies ascent overhead raining darks shadows,
Juturna weeping, whirling her stream's water round,
A single voice cut through such tumult, strong and with reason,
"Cease!" she sang, "and let this glorious country,
Its future successes, victories and its every winter season,
Let now its mother speak, let my not at all kind words now bluntly
stop this cursed and fated fighting, blood and death,
The only bounty of such hatred, I may see"
A sharp thunderous crack rose up at her last breath,
Juno appeared next to the podium that was the dead tree,
Like a hunter on a boulder, hurtling down a large mountain,
Near a dear searching for firey lions in Punicas summer rains,
The goddess appearance, and the daughters word, a fountain,
Of amazement held the crowd, and with the upmost of pains,
Pious Aeneas and the whole the whole crowd bowed,
"Listen" spoke a deep voice from afar, "She has conceded".
Juppiter taking the form of Latinus, with words of abounding loud,
The last voice that spoke, was such undefeated,
The Olympians left, as the armed ones retreated.
/The citadel and the palace, burned and stormed,
Were quiet that night, shock for the virgins tenacity transformed,
And yet the men would not listen, and Turnus was still
Sickened, to father a country, he would not inflict the same crime
That was bestowed on his beloved sister, evil not his will,
But at this most sullen and ponderous time,
Juturna and Lavinia laughed, their last night as hidden lovers,
Unwilling to depart even as their destinies called,
Shake the warmth from the semi-divine bed's covers,
The blushing face of the Goddesses still enthralled.
Alas, it was not to be, for alike the bees that float
And fill the air, this happy hives love, two queens
Sweet nectar of love would by the fated future, smote,
And thus as Lavinia awoke, rolling over and she leans,
a delicate departing kiss, and from the sacred shrine,
the place of water spirits to recline with whom they choose,
she left. A darkened sky a ominous sign,
"Be swift" she told her mare, before the coming of lighter hues,
The bloodied battlefield passed underfoot with canters ease,
Her Father's gates awaiting her with solemn displease.
