All Hail the Queen
Theme: #44 (uxorious; boot-licking; slavish)
Written for the LJ community 30 houshin
Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the characters mentioned below or the series from which they originated.
Warnings: Insanity, dark themes, implied sex
Pairing: Serenity x Schuldig, complete AU
Extra: Originally posted on www (dot) mysticallegends (dot) com (backslash) forums. I cannot suggest joining this place enough; see my profile for more details on it.
Schuldig is no longer quite sure where she ends and he begins.
There is a separation, he is sure; physically, he is still within his own body, kneeling before her amid the dust and rumble. As surely as if he has always been there, however, he is within her mind too, and he not only gives every touch but receives it as well. He is unable to say what he is thinking for they are so meshed each thought could be hers and he nothing more than a mindless servant upon the floor.
But surely that thought was his?
He kisses her feet like a supplicant and worships her with his touch. She is a statue upon her throne, a goddess who radiates cold silver light and her framings are the shadows and the ruins of her empire. Touching her is a sin that he cannot stop himself from committing; all the warnings he has heard echo empty in ears, come to nothing.
She leans forward and tangles one hand in his hair to draw him closer. She lowers herself by touching her servant and though her fingers burn his skin and freeze his soul until he can hear it splintering apart, can feel an infinite amount of cracks begin to form inside of him, he can't stop himself from embracing her. He releases years of torturous self-restraint and devours her.
An untouchable voyeur, the Earth watches them through the shattered rooftop.
He can no longer tell who she is. Where has his princess gone, sweet and kind and infinitely gentle? He can remember – or can she? – that lovely smile and those slim hands, her light and love and brilliance.
Under him, she bares her teeth in a smile but they are too sharp and too white against the darkness and she is a demon mocking him. A thousand women look at him through her eyes and his hates it – before the war, there was only one.
"I am Serenity."
He says nothing to this lie.
Her nails claw his back and she leaves useless marks of possession, laying her claim on what has always been hers, but her mouth is soft against his neck. "I am Serenity," she repeats, "and there is no other."
She lays beneath him and she is unfamiliar; these are not the eyes he has stared into so intently, the voice he has listened to so closely, the movements he has watched time and time again. Her eyes are huge and reflecting, too blue and too cold; the others stare back at him once more and it seems that there are more of them now, but underneath it all, under the madness and chaos, he imagines he can see the girl he pledged his life to, the girl he vowed to die protecting.
His princess is not gone, he decides; she has transcended.
When she envelopes him, he gives himself over completely.
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