Plot bunnies bred, and they settled down. Everything before this has been America/Mexico centered, but I bet some of you are wondering what it had been like with our Spanish-loverrrrrrrr.

Also, if anyone around here has a dA or a tablet and decent drawing skills, may I request a drawing of Teresa? If not, I'm gonna put up my own drawing of her anyway, but I'd love to see other pieces!

Partly inspired by Moctezuma II's attitude towards Cortes.


His hands. His mouth. They were everywhere.

Her smaller, untouched body was so small compared to Antonio's.

She could hear the rapid thumping of her heart, beating simultaneously with Moctezuma's.

The city was being overrun.

His teeth left marks on her breasts, her high-pitched keens spurring him on.

"Xochi, who were those guys that were wearing those funny clothes?" Even as he asked, Alfred's bright blue eyes were focused on the spear Xochiquetzal was sharpening.

She continued to be surprised by the strength of his vision. Those strangers had appeared in the south, far from Alfred and Matthew's lands. The younger twin hid his face in his hands, violet eyes fearful, and said, "I don't like them! They had loud sticks! The noise scared Mama away."

Rolling her eyes, the Aztec Empire replied, "Your mother will be back soon, as long as you stay away from those men."

She was apprehensive, though. Would this be the return of Quetzacoatl? Why on earth would White Moon be afraid? And why would she leave her sons behind?

She felt him raise her skirt up to her hips, and was a bit embarrassed at her lack of shape after all she would have been only twelve summers old to a human's eyes. Felt his fingers inside her.

Her hands clutched at his arms, and she looked at him imploringly. His green eyes gazed down at her with such love. Such adoration!

I've never seen such green eyes before.

He is mine…A gift from the Gods…

He tenderly cradled her cheek in his hand, kissing her already swollen lips. "Mi tesoro…Mi preciosa."

She shoved her language away, wanting to understand his soft words. "Antonio…"

Suddenly he was inside her. Wincing as he moved and groaned, Xochiquetzal forgot about Moctezuma. She forgot White Moon and her beautiful sons.

There was only her and Spain. The union of the earth and the bright, shining sun.

It was painful. In the short moment that Antonio stilled, she heard Moctezuma breathe his last.

She had craved this. She wanted Antonio to ravish her, to feel his strong hands take her body. He thrust into her mercilessly, hiding his face in her dusky neck.

The pain melted away, beaten by her desire. Cries unfamiliar to her floated into the sky, and she never realized that they were her own. Small hands scratched at Antonio's clothed back, feeling the rippling muscles beneath. She arched against him, searching for that elusive explosion she had not known about until he came along. Her legs, tingling uncontrollably, hooked around his own.

She seized around him, the warmth in her abdomen spreading through her young body. Her eyes closed in utterly glorious ecstasy she let her head fall back on Antonio's cot, relishing his continued penetration. Just as her heart rate returned to normal Antonio stopped moving. She felt him expel a warm breath on her skin, accompanied by soft moans. At the same time something warm was released within, and it felt the tiniest bit uncomfortable. It did not matter to her. It was Antonio. Her gift from the Gods.

He withdrew gently, his green eyes smiling down at her. Remembering to breathe Xochiquetzal smiled back, raising her hands to hold Antonio's beautiful face between them.

He behaved as a lover, cradling her body to his and speaking softly.

She was trapped.


White Moon = Native America, mother to both America and Canada. Still around today, but lives on her own. Al and Mattie visit her as much as they can.

R & R