Of the Body Electric

by Luckynumber28

Opening my eyes, I turn to my side and look upon the face of my new husband. I will maintain my youthful countenance till the day this body dies, but he will grow old. For now, he is fresh as the flowers brought from the valleys of the sun to nourish my father. One Shot musings, Ramandu's Daughter/Caspian

This body is strange.

The flesh lays heavy against my heart. I close my eyes to block out the faint moonlight; just for the shivers the dark gives me. I have lived my long life in the constancy of light. Bombarded by the brightness of my father, Ramandu, the shadows of the world were fragments of legends.

I can hear the blood, my own blood, rush through my ears like the tides at the edges of my father's island. I grasp the sheets between my fingers, imagining the bone under my skin pulled by tethers of red muscle.

I am fascinated by this form.

Opening my eyes, I turn to my side and look upon the face of my new husband. I will maintain my youthful countenance till the day this body dies, but he will grow old. For now, he is fresh as the flowers brought from the valleys of the sun to nourish my father. He sleeps in our marriage bed where I lay awake a hand's breadth away as though he were afraid to touch me for very long. As though my skin would burn him were he to hold on for long, like the cup of tea that burned my fingers upon our arrival in his land. I remember the delicious pain, the nerves in my hand shooting the warning to my mind.

His black eyes are shaded, his thick lashes resting against his cheeks. I reach out and run the very tips of my fingers through the ends of his hair splayed across the pillow like spilled ink. He is warm. When we made love, I could sense the thrum of organs in his broad chest, taste the sweat from his neck and feel his breath rush over my skin like the breezes off the sea. He is so very raw and real.

I want more of him. I want him to wake so that I may touch the callouses on his fingers, trace the freckles on his shoulder blades, kiss him again to find if his taste changes. I want to consume more of what this mortal form offers; of my own body and my husband king's. My appetite feels as boundless as the sea and I fear our few years that we may spend together will be too short.

However, these mortals know nothing of the brevity of their time on this earth. Only one who had tasted the endlessness of the stars could possibly appreciate the flash of beauty that is this life. I am full of wonder and sorrow at my fate; an ethereal spirit in love with this flesh.