Forbidden Fruit
MarshAngel
She looked at her daughter's perfect features as she laughed and played with her friends. Even at this young age, the child looked much like she did, exactly as she had when she was her age, except for the hair, the hair was very different, the hair was his, the eyes were his too.
She always watched him like this; hiding behind whatever object could hide her lithe figure. Her parents sometimes caught her this way, watching him. They thought it adorable how much she looked up to him. Everyday she would wake up well before the sun was above the horizon, peeking around the shadow of the big brown and blue ball, known as Earth. She would dress hurriedly, putting her silvery hair up so hurriedly it often fell out of place before mid morning, and the mass of silvery blonde curls would twirl around her. She would run down to the open court to hide behind the large white pillars and watch the guards practice.
On hot days they'd take of their shirts and she'd watch their muscles rippling, as they sparred with each other. She was only watching the tall golden-haired figure really; one whose strength seemed to surpass all the others. She didn't know many men, but she knew enough to know he was special, different.
He looked nothing like her, or anyone else she knew. He was a golden god, with long, straight golden hair, golden skin and brilliant blue eyes. He was taller than most of the soldiers and exuded power and authority. She was very different; she was pale and petite, with silvery-violet eyes and porcelain skin. She looked more like a delicate fairy princess contrasting greatly with his tall, hard body and sharp features.
He knew she watched him. He thought it was cute. She didn't want to be cute; she wanted to be close to him, fighting by his side like the others did. He teased her about it. His sword was more than half her weight and height.
It shouldn't have happened really, but it had, and now she lived with the consequences. One day she'd stopped looking, stopped dreaming of possibilities ans taken matters into her hands. She closed her eyes remembering the moment as if it were only yesterday. For months, her feelings had been growing more and more intense. Even though her political and magical studies often took up much of her time, and her tutors were amazed at her skill, her mind was consumed with thoughts of him.
The pain grew in her heart knowing he was beyond her reach, he was the forbidden fruit. Guilt consumed her mind for wanting him. Warm tears fell from her sooty lashes, her heart and mind so confused. Why did her heart choose to love him? She would ask her goddess, but she'd get no answer.
Her heart finally convinced her to do something she'd wanted for a long time, something that had taken her so long to build up the courage for. She'd woken up in the middle of the night in tears and heartache. She sat up in bed wondering if he could see the love in her eyes when she looked up at him. Did he know? Did it matter to him?
She gathered her silky white robes around her and left her room. Her mind didn't seem to know her heading, but her heart knew its goal. She came to the big white doors of his quarters. She paused outside, her heart pounding heavily in her throat ominously loud, threatening to burst with fear and anticipation.
She didn't knock, instead she turned the knob slowly opening it with barely a creak. His room was mostly dark, but the light streaming through the open balcony doors cast patterns of light and shadows on the plush carpet. He was lying on his back on the large bed, his lower half covered with blue satin sheets. Her mind kept telling her to turn around and return to her own room, but her mind was no longer in control.
She walked around and stood by the side of his bed. He was so beautiful, so at peace, deep in sleep. She lay her small, pale hand on his tanned, muscled chest. He did not stir. She let out the breath she'd been holding and let her robe fall to the floor.
She prayed a quiet prayer, to gods whom she doubted would listen to her and let her silky white night gown fall to the floor to join her robe. She climbed onto his bed, her nude form bathed in the earthly glow as her silky skin rubbed against his. He moaned and turned his head.
She planted a gentle feathery angel kiss on his cheek, and gaining courage she trailed kisses along his face, finally kissing him lightly on his lips. His lips opened to her and he returned her kiss with a warm gentle one of his own. She lay her entire body on top of him, feeling his hard muscled chest beneath her breasts. His skin smelled like sweet wood. He suddenly rolled her over onto her back, his eyes still closed, and his lips joined to hers, kissing her passionately and more deeply.
Even though this was her goal, she was scared. Her fear grew in her, reaching a height of near frenzy when his eyes opened and sleepily looked down at her. "Serenity?" he questioned, confused. She was on the verge of panic, she didn't want him to turn away from her now, She pressed her lips to his again, silencing any words he might have uttered. What had she been thinking, he would definitely turn away from her now.
She was relieved and confused when he instead deepened the kiss, cupping her breast with his hand. He moaned her name. She was grateful for this moment. Her every wish had come true, even if for one night. She didn't dare think of what the morning would bring. Tonight was enough for now. She wished morning would never come and the night would last forever.
When the morning did come, she wished it hadn't. Looking back even now, she still wished it hadn't. She hadn't heard her mother walk into the room as she lay asleep, her silver head, on his chest, his dark blue sheets, contrasting greatly with the silver curls tumbling all over. She hadn't seen her mother go still and pale just before passing out in a dead faint in the middle of the room.
The rest of the day had been a waking nightmare. One of the maids had come in, wrapped a sheet around her naked body, and pulled her, half awake, from the bed and to her own room, before her mother could be revived. He hardly stirred.
The maid wouldn't say anything to her, but she had a scared look on her face. She hung her head in shame, buried her face in her hands and cried. The night was over and the morning brought the weight of her actions. Later, after the maid had left, her mother came in wailing, completely incoherent, but there was nothing to say. There was nothing she could have said, only more bitter tears to be cried.
She never had a chance to say goodbye really. She'd seen him last as they all stood solemnly, watching him leave on the earliest transport, the next day headed for the next galaxy. He'd given her a sad look right before he left, she hadn't mistaken it though. Despite everything, he didn't hate her. He didn't regret it. He should have, but he didn't. That was the last time she saw him.
Her parents never looked on her the same way again. They never really said much to her after that. When she'd eventually told them of the child growing inside her, they had simply nodded and turned away, more painful than anything they could have said to her. Later on, it would be the same maid who'd taken her away from him, that told her they wouldn't let her keep the child.
Few within the palace knew what had happened. They eventually saw the evidence of her pregnancy but no one questioned it, or dared to gossip of it outside their home. If her parents didn't say anything, then neither would they.
The child grew large within her and she knew it was a girl. Somehow, she was happy to be with child, his child. If she could never see him again, she'd have a part of him. As the time grew closer to the birth of her daughter, she found herself thinking of ways she could keep her.
She'd never have use for any of the plans she came up with in her mind however, all of which would have been doomed to failure anyway. Her parent's were assassinated by dark forces from the Negaverse. She would ascend the throne a week later.
On the night of her coronation, she'd searched the crowd with her eyes, wondering if he was there. He wasn't. She was disappointed but not surprised. That night she went into labour, shortly after retiring to her rooms.
Early in the afternoon of the next day, she gave birth to a tiny baby girl with brilliant blue eyes, eyes just like his, and soft yellow curls.
Even now, as she watched the beautiful child, playing by the fountains with her friends, she could see his face. She could hear him teasing her. She could almost taste his kisses and smell his skin. Even now she felt guilty.
The child laughed and smiled, brilliant blonde curls falling out of their meatballs, her curls flying in the breeze just as her mother's had as she'd watched the beautiful man, Apollo, her brother. A tear rolled down her cheek as she watched her brother's child play, the sunlight caressing her the way it always did him, making him seem like a golden angel. Even now, she still loved him.
Unusual? I know.
Questions? Coments?