The Agony of Defeat

By: Thea

Summary: Don Juan becomes acquainted with the meaning of the word rejection. To find that he doesn't like it very much.

Rating: G

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Rejection. It was not a word or an emotion that the legendary Don Juan had ever felt before. Never had he been rejected by a woman. It simply had never happened. But, now that it had, everything seemed different somehow. He wondered how he had come to this. Cruelly tossed away by his one true love. His own angel fallen from heaven. His Donna Anna.

He looked up finding himself on the dark opposite shore of the island. Once those words had left her lips he had been in a fog. Wandering aimlessly searching himself for answers he found himself lacking. Yet, he was still confused nothing seemed right. This wasn't, couldn't be right, was he not meant to have his one love over all others. Was he to wander in this fog for the rest of his life and die with unsaid questions on his lips.

It was certainly not what he had envisioned for himself. He was the worlds great lover a man who above all other things prided himself on being able to see things for what they were. To see the inner beauty in every being…in every action.

His head spun both literally and metaphorically and he gave in to the weakness in his knees and collapsed in a heap to the still sun-warmed sand. He realized a shuddering breath his eyes finding the bright glowing orb of the moon in the night sky. Surrounded by the shining bright jewels of stars.

It was a sight that he usually took comfort in but now not even the moon or it's celestial beauty could comfort him in his despair. Now, the moon and stars seemed distant just beyond his reached like a mirage in the desert that was always just one step away.

No, he realized suddenly the moon had betrayed him but not only that his very nature had betrayed his heart. His own gift had become the curse that had stolen away his angel. The thought sent shivers of cold through him.

He found himself there laying in the sand in a place far beyond time and he was unbearably cold and unable to be warmed. The sand that molded to his body shape seemed to his as cold and unforgiving as the night sky above him. He was filled with a cold that seemed to radiate from within. The icy tendrils of loneliness had already wrapped themselves around the shatters of his heart.

"Why me?" He called to the empty heavens in a hoarse sounding voice. There was no reply to his question not even an empty echo. The sky still stared back at him. Offering no answers.

"Why would you bless me with your brightest angel? If you were only to take her away from my arms." He asked, his voice not as loud. It sounded lost, filled with confusion and hurt.

What would become of the world's greatest lover, if indeed he could still call himself that. What was a lover with a broken heart. Like a toy with no batteries it was utterly useless. Was that his fate? To just…fade away.

He didn't think so, not even now lost in his own depression did he believe in his heart of hearts to be his final fate. It simply could not be. He wouldn't let it be. The only question left was. How was he to find atonement for a sin he could not understand in the first place.

He shook it away. No, it didn't matter that he didn't yet know how to make up this hurt he had caused Donna Anna. If he didn't know yet, then he would learn.

He was determined to have his angel back and his lips twisted slightly upwards in a hopeful half-smile at the thought. It was as though a small ray of light had burst through the fog of sadness that had settled around him.

Now there was a plan, a course of action. A determination there that would not be broken. He would leave come the first rays of morning light but he would return one day. When he could once again have his angel. There were still things he needed to do, and that was why his love had betrayed him, there were things yet to be done.

He nodded his understanding to the heavens and slowly he stood. A new man with a small smile of hope tugging at his lips as a breeze off the sea ruffled his pitch black hair. Perhaps there was still to be a happy ending for Don Juan. For what was the thrill of victory if one has never felt the agony of defeat.

~Fini~