IN THE WOODS ~
A Cold Case tale/ poetry/ mythological epic/ ficlet
Note: Sorry for any grammar/language mistakes, I'm Brazilian and not quite fluent...
Disclaimer:
Lilly Rush, George Marks and their respective madness
belongs to Meredith Stiehm.
Artémis, Orion and their respective bows
Belongs to all the woods of the Mortal's world.
s§s
"What would pleasure me wasn't touching myself while watching her doing her job from the darkness as she suggested herself.
No.
My fantasies are beyond this. Far away from it.
I think in what color her fragile body would have, half naked, running through the woods with the Moonlight touching her back, running like a white doe, one of the fastest and rarest. I try to imagine the sound of her shoeless, wounded feet touching the dry leaves on the ground. Hurry and fugacious.
Artémis running away from Orion.
The White Hunter being hunted by the Great Hunter. I would die to see, even for a second, her gaze deposed of all that arrogance and self-reliance; I wanted to see it full of bitter, supplicant tears, begging for her life."
(From the fanfiction "Scorpion", by BarbaraCB)
s§s
Oh, Huntress Master… I know you watch me. I know you stalk and observe me. You watch me with the characteristic gray of your irises; you pass right by me as if I didn't exist; sit down by my side, invisible to my eyes.
At such distant proximity, the sweet hypnotizing softness of your essence shows into foggy rings in my mind.
They don't let me ratiocinate.
They don't let me think.
They don't let me feel nothing but the imaginary sensation of your vanilla skin on my hardened body of expert Hunter…
The dark woods in my fantasies are lightened by the Moon that driven you and by your body that guides me, in and out of my sight for each tree that we left behind. The hours are not running anymore and your slim doe legs never get tired. Your wounded feet – your silver hooves – echoes amongst the dry leaves and the earth that you lift as you pass.
My arrow points to your bustled heart all the time, but my bow stands motionless, without the courage to shot.
Not yet…
And under this thought and the desire that was driving me to you, I accelerated my Titan pace and threw myself over your body. Pressing it against my own body. Caressing it as the white vanilla rings were dominating me, wild and pure. Under the rage of my thoughts, you fought and cried the tears of the Moon herself. You stared at me with your gray stroked with yellow irises, which were emanating all the pain you felt – the invasion you suffered. You screamed with pain under the most powerful ecstasy of my whole existence. Most powerful than all my hunts.
I invaded the mind of the Queen of Hunters, slowly sipping every drop of that vindictive and coward pleasure. Your narrow lips that never talk were now screaming at me and only for me, letting go words that not even your most faithful Painted Warrior never heard, my mind touching yours.
Amid the realization of my most desired wish, you, Artful Huntress, hit me with the truth and got rid of my arms. Your now exposed body avoided my hug and your hands quickly reached for your silver bow.
We pointed our bows to the heart that was beating in front of our eyes at the same moment stopped in the time.
I didn't shot. Neither did you. Instead, you just looked at me with eyes full of rage and sorrow. Then, formed inside your mind that was eager for justice, vengeance, or neither of them, a red Scorpion came from your icy irises. I was too hypnotized for your vanilla rings that were running around my conscience and paralyzed by your body that was entirely turned to me. I did not do nothing when I felt the painful sting of that beast in my flesh.
The poison ran inside me, knocking me down and tearing me with pain.
From the woods's earth, I saw a piece of the starry nocturne skies between the leaves of the trees and saw the Moon that enlightened the moment that I invaded the Goddess of the Hunt. I either saw your gray and yellow irises, shocked by what you have done. And besides your own feelings, I finally realized why I was driven by you and towards you.
Besides the immeasurable pleasure I was seeking inside your mind, I was searching for the end of my own existence. I wanted that sweet poison in the form of creamy rings fogging inside my mind and the bitter narcotic injected in my heart by the most vindictive and innocent eyes I ever saw in my Titan existence.
And thus Orion, one of the best Hunters that ever ran through this woods, succumbed.
Under the silver eyes of Artémis that kept vigil over me.
The eyes that killed me.
s§s
By BarbaraCB
This ficlet/tale/ mythological epic was based on my own Cold Case fanfiction, "Scorpion", quoted right at the beginning. There, under George Marks point of view, I said he fantasized about Lilly and how he would love to subdue her and destroy her dignity. I'm sort of telling here how he realized them, comparing their 'relationship' to the myth of Artémis and Orion, which tells he attacked her and she killed him for that.
Notice that at the part where George-Orion attacks Lilly-Artémis is where I kept all the situation VERY ambiguous. Even looking so much like one, it's not a rape – not the conventional rape, I mean.
For George, invading Lilly's mind and dominate her would be the equivalent of it; forcing her to talk about what she kept hidden her entire life and listen to each word is like sex to him. And was exactly what he did at the episode 2x23 the Woods – when he finally took out what he wanted to listen from Lilly, he stared at her with a "I just came" face. o_ô
"The most faithful Painted Warrior"of Artémis/Lilly is Scotty – because he is always worried/protecting her and because Painter Warrior is the meaning of his name.
"Vanilla rings" – because in "Scorpion", I say that Lilly smells like vanilla scent.
Anyway, another text worthy of Freud – the Perv.