Transformations

Luna left her hand in his grip a long, long time. She said nothing, simply letting her presence sink in and gathering her aura around him. Eventually, she crouched behind his beautiful, dark polished shell and rested her forehead against it, knowing this was hard for him to handle, uncertain how to make things easier.

Hades had seen this coming, she mused. He had known Donatello's intelligence and sweetness would draw her like a moth to a flame. Medes or no Medes. Or maybe he'd just understood the connection was already in place through the medium of the mimic. It had fed on Medes then Don, forming a sort of twisted bond of its own.

After all, she had been fighting an urge to be in Donnie's company for some time. She had studied the desire, but thought it was Charon's corruption trying to drive a wedge between her family members and had fought the impulse to seek him out.

Now she knew he was destined to be hers. They all were.

Donatello flinched as her free hand made soft reassuring circles over him; her light touch as she traced the patterns on his shell a sensation he'd never experienced. Her caress set fire to his emotions once again, reigniting his forbidden desire.

God, I want her!
I need her!
And my brothers conceded!

A yearning more powerful than ever before slammed into him like a wrecking ball, leaving his spirit crushed between its weight and the unyielding determination of his mind.

It changed nothing.

Luna was pursuing this course under duress. He would hold to his decision.

Don wished she would stop touching him, but at the same time, thought he might die if she did; so he said nothing. As she shifted, her sweet, warm breath grazed the back of his neck and a shudder ran down his spine. She leaned in and, before he realized what she was doing, kissed him above his shell in an inordinately sensitive spot. All his new nerve endings fired at once, driving him insane. Muscles clenched in his stomach and groin.

He moaned aloud before he could seal his lips and tensed, locking himself in place. He fought his body with everything he had, resisting the nearly overpowering inclination to pull her violently into his arms, lock his mouth to hers, and never let go.

Ruthlessly he suppressed his urges. Desire, like pain, existed in his mind and his mind could control it.

But it was hell.

He did not look at her as he gasped and found his voice.

"You don't have to do this."

His words denied her, but despite them, his grip tightened almost imperceptibly on her hand. Luna moved to face him and knelt, not releasing her hold as she tried to read his expression. He kept his eyes shut and his head turned from her as he ground out between clenched teeth,

"You don't want this. You have my brothers to protect you and love you to the ends of the time. I can only offer painful memories and such things can't be atoned for."

Luna furrowed her brow. Painful memories? She had plenty of those, but she didn't understand how they related to him. She mentally reached for him and brushed across the surface thoughts of his mind searching for answers. When she finally grasped the tenor of his argument, she was startled. She hadn't even considered this and she blurted out the first thing that came to her.

"You are right."

Donatello hissed, realizing from the fresh surge of agony he'd almost allowed himself to hope he was wrong, that Luna had come to him because she wanted him. She flinched as she realized how bad her statement sounded.

"Some things can not be atoned for because they've already been forgiven, nay even forgotten," she said, trying to make him see she hadn't even considered it.

Don shook his head. She reached out and clasped his other hand, but he kept his eyes shut. He remembered how fast Leonardo, and even Raphael, capitulated when they stared into those beautiful eyes.

It was how he had fallen into the mimic's trap in the first place.

"I will not force you into this, Luna! You do not have to yield to me against your will to save Medes. All that's waiting down that path is regret."

And madness, his heart whispered. I could not live with myself.

"I will find another way to heal it," he said more softly. "I swear on my honour, I will."

He squeezed her hands gently to reassure her, than released them and tried to pull away. She wouldn't let go.

"Donnie-"

"I shouldn't have said what I did and the others shouldn't pressure you into this. Not even for Medes sake."

Her hands were shaking in his.

'I will take myself out of the picture if you wish," he whispered, "leave here and never return if it makes things easier for you."

Something hot and wet hit the back of his hands.

"Donatello, please!" she begged, a strangled little hitch in her voice, "Do not torture me so.

If you go, I will seek you to the ends of the universe and I will find you because... I'm already in love with you."

He opened his eyes at that and stared up into a face so perfect it stunned him. She was ethereal, her eyes a deep violet and her long hair the palest lilac, curly, and caught half up on her head. She was more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. Even in his dreams.

Luna looked like an angel, but this angel was crying. Red rimmed her gorgeous eyes and silvery tears trailed down her cheeks, falling on their clasped hands. Each one burned into him like acid.

What have I done now? She's hurting!

Donatello stood in one fluid motion, drawing the vision to her feet and released one hand, to brush his knuckles over her face, wiping the tears away. He barely dared to breath when she closed her eyes and leaned into the caress. He opened his hand and cupped his palm against her cheek as delicately as he could.

Her skin was so soft he couldn't resist running his thumb over it. He was fervently grateful Hades had given him a fresh start; hands without callouses, burns from experiments, and scars from past battles. It seemed a sin to subject her to such roughness.

She gasped and shivered at his touch, but not in pain or revulsion. He crooned to her in response, almost involuntarily, and pulled her against his chest; tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his arms around her. He buried his face in the silky softness of her hair as she melted into his embrace. Her body molded itself to his contours as his thoughts raced.

How?

His analytical mind worried at the impossibility of her love as if it were a puzzle he could solve, examining it from all sides, turning it over, twisting his memories of their experiences; experimenting. He couldn't see it, couldn't determine how or why she loved him.

What am I missing?

stop thinking.

The answer came from a soft voice deep in his mind. It pulsed with knowledge and certainty so he complied, ceasing his internal battle and surrendering to the torrent of feelings seething under the surface of his consciousness.

Emotions whirled within him like air rushing to fill a vacuum, each one appearing faster than the one before and colliding to form a whole before he could understand, separate, or analyze.

Light crept into his heart, driving out the shadows. With her in his arms, the doubts drained from his mind and he found true focus. This was the goddess, his Luna, and she would not lie to him. She loved him and wanted him, even without a bond.

His need for the 'hows' and 'whys' fell away. With this realization his choice was clear. He was only hurting her further by refusing to heal her soul. He pulled back from her.

"Where is Medes?"

Luna's eyes widened in startlement but she raised her empty hand and the violet drained from her, forming into a pale, flickering form that danced on her palm. Her soul had been merely fractured before, but Medes was torn asunder.

There wasn't much left of it and it shivered, fearing exposure.

Donatello considered the broken soul. The goddess would never be a goddess again without it and the thought made Donatello frantic. The 'what if's' surrounding its destruction did not even bear thinking about. He met her eyes again, still unsure he could trust it.

"Medes is corrupted and none, save its mate, can heal it now," she said and he noticed her hand shaking again under the flame. She was afraid, he realized. She feared he would refuse her. "The darkness in my spirit, the madness you sense," she paused, "all comes from Charon's influence. He hurt Medes to bleed me dry. He would have me submit to his desires."

Her whole body shuddered at the thought and Don's eyes turned flinty, hard as stone. The powerful assassin lurking inside his intelligent form reared to the surface and he wrapped a strong arm around her waist.

"He'll never have you." Donatello's voice was fierce and firm. "Never. I will do whatever it takes to protect you."

He placed his other hand, palm down over hers, forming a cup above Medes, all uncertainty gone from his being.

"Little one," he said, "If you will have me, I will join with you and bond to the Goddess Luna, Heir to Helios- Master of the Sun and Selene- Mistress of the Moon. My strength will be hers to wield as you see fit. My body shall worship her, my mind cherish her, and my soul nourish her until the end of time."

The same deep mental voice Don had heard before resounded through the room.

donatello is worthy, my mistress, and gives himself to thee; body, mind, and soul. dost thou acknowledge the gift?

Luna raised her hand to caress his face before placing a glowing silver fingertip on his chest and tracing a complicated pattern directly over Donatello's heart.

"I do," she whispered, "and with this mark, thou art bound unto my being for all eternity, as am I to thee."

Medes flared and both were enveloped in light. Donnie burned a brilliant violet and Luna was coated in silver. Power flowed through their joined hands and Medes began to pulse, brighter and faster than before. Their palms separated as the force of the two collided and Medes floated alone between them, whole and deeply violet once more.

It flashed one final brilliant time and dissolved. Half of it recoiled into Luna the other part reached out in welcome to Donatello's soul.

Don started as he sensed the deep connection forming between them. Energy flowed back and forth in a constant stream. Emotions, too, traveled across the bond until he no longer knew which were his and which hers. They had become a single pulsing being of heat and light, melding, twisting and creating new patterns under the stone skies of an abandoned city.

Energy encompassed him and he became aware of his body in a way he never had experienced before. He felt strong, unbreakable, as it pulsed through his blood. His mind opened and he flew free of his physical form.

Before him the universe formed, the stars expanded, the gases ignited, and life began. The explanations to so many of his deepest questions be they scientific, philosophic, or simple unknowns became clear. The answers were his for the taking.

He had bound himself to the soul of knowledge and more information than he could handle exploded into his consciousness. There was too much. He was overwhelmed and suddenly afraid of what he might become.

Luna sensed his distress and entered his mind, her power a shimmering presence amidst the chaos. She wove a shield around his thoughts, protecting the core that was Donatello from the incredible weight of such amassed intelligence, for there were some things mortals were never meant to know.

He shivered and discovered himself back in his body, Luna held tight in his arms. He locked eyes with her violet gaze and sought her lips with his own.

The kiss was searing.

Desire burned through them both and magnified as it traveled from one to the next through their new connection. Her skin, or was it his?, ached to be touched. He caressed her wonderingly, his hands tracing first her shoulders, then her hips as he swept them down her sides. Her hourglass was so appealing he did it again.

It felt even better the second time.

Don fell to his knees in front of her, his hands continuing their long caress from her full hips down her legs. Only then did he realize her clothing had changed. When she first came to him, she was wearing street clothes, a simple t-shirt and jeans.

Now she was devastatingly beautiful in a wedding dress.

Long, medieval, white chiffon sleeves split at silver clasps on her shoulders and trailed to the ground next to him, before catching at her wrists in silver cuffs embossed with crescent moons. A low cut, sweetheart neckline displayed a smooth white expanse of bare skin and curved breast, adorned with a huge amethyst crystal necklace. A complex silver beaded belt pulled the dress tight under her bust and the skirt fell away in voluminous white layers, splitting in places to show silver fabric glittering underneath.

Tiny white flowers and delicate silver chains were woven through her hair.

He gasped, looking up at her with adoring eyes. Hers twinkled with mischief.

"Doesn't it hurt, kneeling on all that stone?" she asked.

Confusion lit his expression for a moment. His knees felt fine. He was wearing pads, after all. He glanced down only to discover he wore nothing but his mask and his knees sank into something soft.

A portion of the floor had become a decadent sunken mattress, covered in satin and surrounded by plush pillows. The balcony was now draped in royal purple velvet and the lighting was dim. Candles, hundreds of them, coated every flat surface. It was all terribly romantic.

"Luna, this is incredible!" Don said, awe coloring his tone. He had seen her change the furnishings in the old lair when Splinter first appeared, but this was something different.

"It is incredible, my love, but it's not my doing. It's yours."

He stared at her, in astonishment. He looked closer at the items nearest him as she sank gracefully into the comfort of the cushions and leaned back looking every inch the goddess at rest in her boudoir.

Suddenly his curiosity about the objects could wait.

Donatello could not keep his eyes off her as she kicked out of her silver sandals and ran her toes through the luxurious sheets, a smile of unadulterated pleasure on her face. She raised a hand to him and drew him down beside her, kissing him soundly.

He pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her until they were pressed together from chest to knee. He wanted to be nearer still, but her dress, gorgeous as it was, frustrated his desire.

She broke the kiss and laughed as his thought flowed through the bond, a rich, throaty, melodious sound which made his heart swell in his chest. Teasingly, she reached up to the silver clasps at her shoulders and unfastened them one at a time.

The front of her dress slid sensually down her luminous skin, revealing her form one glorious inch at a time to his hungry gaze. It sparked a wildfire of desire. Unable to resist, and no longer afraid, he raised his hand to her breast and stroked her. Her body responded, hardening under his caress as Luna moaned and arched back into the cushions.

His hand moved of its own accord, sliding over the sensitive surface repeatedly, causing her to gasp and press herself against him. He leaned in and trailed kisses over her skin, between her breasts, and down the gentle rise of her stomach as his hand explored lower. He drew it lightly over the ever so soft skin of her side to the slight curve of her back, shoving the dress down.

She rose to her knees beside him and allowed the garment to slip past her hips. She wore nothing underneath and Donatello gasped as her position revealed everything to him. Her natural perfume of lilies and hyacinths deepened as the musk of her arousal hit his nostrils, and he couldn't resist leaning in to inhale the scent.

As before, the fragrance drove him mad, but this time he could do something about it. He tackled her playfully, laid her out on the mattress, and buried his face between the heaven of her thighs.

Her sighs and moans shook the room as his tongue caressed her, and he groaned into her soft flesh. She tasted exquisite and he hauled her leg over his shoulder, desperate to have as much of her as possible. She grabbed his head and wound her hands into his mask as she writhed under his ministrations.

He explored her thoroughly, nipping and licking as his moment with her stretched into infinity. He felt the hot rush of her passion as it flowed between them and adjusted his technique until all her muscles clenched, winding tighter and tighter.

Ecstasy overcame her and she shuddered, shouting his name in release.

He smiled like the Cheshire Cat, rising from between her knees and stalking up her body. He slid an arm around her waist and in one smooth move, rolled them so he rested on his shell and she straddled his plastron. His hands resting on her hips.

She ran hers gently over every inch of him and he stared up at her in adoration as she taught him things about his body that he never knew.

Several hours later, she lay quietly on her side. Her steady breathing and constant heart rate would have told him she was resting peacefully, even if he couldn't feel the sluggish satisfaction emanating through their bond.

He rested behind her, stroking one finger along her cheek, her arm, and her side, contemplating how much had changed. His soul had gone from completely broken to undeniably whole in the space of a few hours and the experience was staggering.

He tucked her hair back behind her ear and ran his hand down her side, stopping to rest his palm in the curve of her lower back. It fascinated him, her back and that curve. The way it swelled into the fullness of her hips and tapered down into her legs. Only human females were built this way and he was definitely drawn to it. He chuckled at his thoughts and realized it was the first time in days he'd done so.

Luna stirred in his arms and snuggled closer, shivering a little. It wasn't exactly cold down here. The city maintained a pretty even temperature, but for a bare skinned human, it probably was a little chilly. Don frowned and glanced around for something to cover his beloved with.

His questing hand only found cushions, and frustrated, he held one up in front of him.

"Why couldn't you be a nice, soft blanket instead of a pillow?" he groused in a whisper "We already have far too many pillows."

A strange type of head rush overcame him and his vision blurred slightly.

Woah. Guess I haven't had enough to eat in the past 24 hours.

He blinked rapidly to clear his eyes and stared at the object in his hand in astonishment. It wasn't a cushion anymore. A beautiful green blanket with the same pattern as the swirls on his shell was draped across his palm.

As he watched the slight remaining glow of dark violet power faded away from it, leaving it solid and unexplainable in his hand.

"What the hell?"