Leandra watched the man sitting across from her as she sipped from the little china glass she held between her palms. He would have been an odd sight sitting at her table with her stuffed guests if it weren't for his bunny ears. They somehow made him fit in with the animals she surrounded herself with. He'd been sitting there patiently for awhile now. Staring. That's all they'd been doing. His own tea remained untouched. As she glanced down at the cup he traced a finger along the rim which caused her to look back up at his face. It was apparent he wasn't thinking about the tea at all and the focused attention caused a rush of heat to spill across her cheeks. Momentarily she averted her gaze as if something of interest had suddenly appeared elsewhere, but when she looked back at him he was still staring at her with that same intense expression. Another moment passed before he took his chair and dragged it closer to her own.
"Leandra." "Kounéli?" "Your tea's cold." She looked down into her cup as she swirled the liquid around inside of it. She'd been drinking it, but hadn't even noticed when it had cooled. "I suppose it.." Her words faltered as his hand brushed against hers and took the glass away. "..is" Setting it aside he leaned closer to her, forcing her to lean back in her chair and even then he didn't give her any room; thoroughly invading her space. It wasn't unusual for her to have him close, just not when he wasn't in his rabbit form. This was much more.. awkward for her. The fact he was at times a rabbit made her forget that he was also a man. A fact he seemed quite happy to remind her of when he took notice of it. Unsure of what he might do she acted in her own nervousness and lifted a hand to lay a finger against the heart shape that marked his left eye, following the outline of it with her fingertip. She only got halfway down before his fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her. "No." That was all he said. A simple word. One of the first things a person learns in life, but she was the Queen and she didn't like being told no. Her lips pursed together and her eyes narrowed into a rather heated glare. "No?" She sounded absolutely incredulous that he would tell her no. "No?" She repeated, her voice pitching ever so slightly higher. She could glare all she wanted. He found it adorable the way she'd act indignantly. It was near impossible to take her seriously when she was looking so flustered, but the reason for her looking that way now wasn't the reason he wanted it to be. Before she could go off on him he captured her mouth with his own, silencing any protests she had or would have as her thoughts scattered the moment they made contact. Her lips parted against his and he took advantage, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She tasted the faintest bit sweet. A side effect of the tea. She did like her sugar. He knew if he gave her a chance to gather herself she might come up with some sharp remarks. It was nothing to take personal, he knew. It was merely her way of reacting to her own nervousness, but it wasn't something he wanted. Later. He'd deal with it later. His unoccupied arm slid behind her and scooped her out of her seat and onto his lap. Right now he wanted her close. Yes, he was always with her. He didn't have a choice given how she'd collared and chained him to her side, but being around her didn't mean being close. Especially when she refused to look at him as a man and not just a company pet. Growling against her lips he tugged her closer. She'd have toppled against him if she didn't catch herself against his chest with the only hand she had available. Her eyes had gone wide at that small act of aggression. Normally her Rabbit was more passive. More obedient. Why was it he was acting this way all of a sudden? Swallowing past the lump in her throat she managed to speak, a little stutter at the start. Her thoughts still weren't all together. "Wh.. what do you want, Rabbit?" "You. You're everything I want." His hands slid up her thighs, disappearing beneath the skirt of her dress and in the same instant he pulled the ribbon on either side of her panties causing the fabric to unlace and separate until the only thing keeping them in place was her sitting on his lap. There was still one other problem to attend to as well. His own pants. "Would you not have me, my Queen?" She let his question linger between them as they merely stared at one another. His eyes dared her to say no and hers searched his as if she could find an answer to a question she hadn't even thought to ask yet. Would she fuck him? Her sweet little, laughing Rabbit. As Queen it was within her right to do so. He belonged to her after all. This world and everything in it belonged to her, but maybe she hadn't made him feel like he belonged yet. "I would." She worked at the front of his pants, fumbling with the button to the point he eventually laid his hands over hers and stopped her with a lopsided grin. "I guess my Queen isn't used to having to undress someone." It was meant as a playful barb, but this Queen could be quick to temper. It was too late, though. He'd already let the comment slip. He wasn't very good at holding his tongue. Sometimes she did wish he'd keep control of it. She didn't like being mocked and that's what it felt like to her. Her initial reaction was to slap him, but she refrained by curling her fingers in towards her palms. He was practically holding his breath as she stared down at his lap. It was more of a glare, but he couldn't see that nor could he see that her face was red with embarrassment. "Well, are you going to undo it or what? It's rude to keep your Queen waiting, you know." She could feel his body relax beneath her own. Strange that she hadn't noticed the way he'd tensed before. "Yes, my Queen." Relieved, he easily popped open the front of his jeans, but her hand pushed against his when he went for the zipper. "I can get that!" She said more loudly then she'd meant to. She held the tab of the zipper between her thumb and index. The corner of her lower lip was held between her teeth as she merely sat there, unmoving. It was frustrating to him. He was throbbing beneath his jeans and the thought of her sitting on him with her panties barely attached and the only thing in his way being his own clothing was near driving him crazy. Finally he heard the light metallic parting of the zipper as she dragged it down, alleviating some of the pressure against his cock. Her fingers brushed against the bulge hidden now only by the covering of his boxers. His cock twitched beneath her touch and caused her to jerk her hand back, but not having any more of that he grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand back against him. "Don't pull away. Don't stop. Please." If the situation wasn't as it was she might have chastised him for taking such liberties. No, she definitely would have. As it was, though, she found herself giving in to what he wanted. It was easy enough to slip her hand into his boxers and feel him beneath the fabric. His cock was hard against her fingers and that pleased her. She liked having him this way. She teased and fondled him until her curiosity wouldn't allow her to wait any longer and she finally pulled his cock through the slit in the fabric. What he took for hesitation on her part after that made him take her hand in his and curl their fingers around his cock together. Her hand squeezed around him beneath his palm and earning her a soft sounded response from him. She liked that. She wanted to hear him do it again and so with a slight guide from his own hand she began stroking along the length of him, her thumb occasionally brushing over the head of his dick and eliciting little sounds of pleasure from his lips. As much as he was enjoying her touch, as simple as it was, this wasn't what he wanted. Well, it was, but not what he really wanted. Grabbing her by the hips he lifted her up over his lap, bringing her down far enough that she could feel his cock pressing against her pussy. It was at that point that one of the guards shifted in place, drawing her attention and reminding her that they were out in the open and not at all alone. There was a touch of irritation to his voice as he grabbed her by the face and turned her back in his direction. "No. Look at me. Just me." Her cheeks were burning red beneath his hands, but he had her full attention again. Not wasting a minute of that he returned his hands to her hips again and pulled her down on top of him, pushing his dick into her as far as he could get and claiming her in front of her guards. If she was embarrassed that was fine. He didn't mind if they watched, because he was the one fucking her. Right now she was all his and if he hadn't wanted after her for so long he might have taken the time to tease her, but he was tired of waiting. "Right now, you're mine. Just mine." With one hand on her hip the other grasped at her hair, pulling her into a kiss. Her moans muffled against his lips. She didn't need much guidance now as she bounced on his lap, rolling her hips forward and back, grinding against him. His fingertips dug into her hip, sometimes tugging down against her as he lifted himself, thrusting into her. The skirt of her dress acted as a perfect cover. Even though the guards knew what they were doing they couldn't actually see anything. He would have removed her dress, but he didn't want to share sight of her with anyone else. Leaning back in the chair gave him a chance to look her over as she rode his cock. He couldn't help thinking she looked best like this. Cheeks pink with exertion, hair slightly mussed, but not quite messy, lips slightly parted as she gasped and moaned, but most importantly staring at him with nearly pleading eyes as if she needed him more than anything. For a Queen she sure listened well when he told her to do something and speaking of needing her to do something. "Up.. Up!" He demanded pushing back against her hips. If she didn't stop he'd be cumming soon and he wasn't ready for that yet. He wasn't ready to stop playing. She whimpered as he slid out of her, already wanting him back. Giving her another kiss, he turned her about and pushed a hand against her back, shoving her down onto the table. The jolt of it made a mess of her dishes, which he'd been careful not to lay her on, her own cup having tilted and rolled off. She'd be mad about that later. It'd been her favorite. Right now all she could focus on was his hand brushing up behind her, lifting her skirt until she was exposed. He paused for just a moment at the sight of her own cum trickling down between her thighs. A lovely mess. "Rabbit.." She whimpered shifting around on the table, quite distraught with need. That alone would have been enough to get him, but the fact she was doing it, because of him, that was best of all. Keeping a hand on her back he used the other to rub his cock against her clit and along her pussy. He'd push the tip of his cock inside her and then rub a little more before doing it again, teasing her with the idea of having him inside her. He did this until she was writhing beneath him, trying to shove herself back against him. Finally holding her still with his cock merely pressing against her, he asked, "What do you want?" "You.. You, please. I want you." He pushed the tip just past her pussy lips as if he was finally going to give her what she wanted, but then stopped and slowly slid back until he was barely pressing in at all. "But what do you want from me, my Queen?" If that was a taunt she couldn't tell. Maybe if she were listening more clearly she'd have been able to, but there was only one thing she was concentrating on right now. "I want you to fuck me." She whimpered softly, trying once more to push herself onto him only to be stopped by his hand on her hip. "I couldn't hear you. What was that? You're gonna have to speak up." He asked, leaning a little closer. Yes, he'd heard her, but he wanted everyone else to hear her too. He wanted them to know that she wanted him. That he was the one she was begging for. Her tongue brushed over her lips as she looked back at him the best she could from her position. If she knew what he was doing she didn't let on, but it was clear that he wasn't going to do anything until she gave him what he wanted. "I want you to fuck me, Kounéli." She was speaking loud enough now and with a desperation to her voice that practically left him aching with the need to shove himself back inside her. "So please, please fuck me now." Unable to wait any longer he finally gave her what she and himself wanted. He pushed himself deep, pulling her back onto him by her hips. Moaning in pleasure she grabbled handfuls of the table cloth, causing it to wrinkle. Gradually he began thrusting faster and harder. His fingers digging into her hips as he continued pulling her against him and all she could do was gasp and moan for him. Occasionally she'd bite on her lip in an attempt to muffle herself so that she could better listen to his own sounds, but he didn't like that. Grasping her by the hair he yanked her head back causing her to gasp loudly, "Don't. I want to hear you." He was getting close and he didn't want to miss a single sound. With one last thrust as far as he could manage he finally came, holding her as close as he could before finally just collapsing over her. She didn't mind the weight of his body, she rather enjoyed it. It was the feel of him pulling out that had her whimpering one last time.
0 Comments
Leandra didn't typically like being alone and she easily could've commanded the attention of one of those in her court. She was the Queen after all, but none of them quite fit in with her tea time. Skylos had her knightly duties to attend to and honestly looked at odds amongst her stuffed animals and Feroun was likely off in some other world he'd created. Besides, neither of them deserved her company right now. At least that was what she'd told herself. She considered this self-isolation of herself to somehow be a punishment for their own neglectfulness. It would serve them right, too. She gave a little smirk at the thought whilst imagining them begging her to return some sort of attention to them. Yes, that would be pleasing indeed. Her inner monologue was soon interrupted by a soft sort of.. mewling, perhaps? No, not quite. It was nothing that seemed to disturb her guards, but still worth investigating.
Her chair slid back as she stood up. Grabbing the handle of her parasol she set it upon her shoulder as she strolled into the hedges of her maze-made garden. She'd never get lost herself. She'd created it after all. A wave of her hand and the guards that had started to follow her fell back. She wasn't in a mood to tolerate them. Using the parasol she poked into the bushes, moving aside leafy branches and flowers as she searched for the cause of the noise. She almost missed it and would have if it weren't for the sharp white contrast against the greenery. Kneeling down she stared into the eyes of what was the oddest looking rabbit she'd ever seen. Black stripes marred pristine white fur from the tips of it's ears down it's back and to it's toes, but the oddest thing of all were the twin red hearts and single diamond. One over the left eye and the other near the end of the right ear; the diamond under the right eye. Surely those most be painted on. Perhaps a cruel joke someone was playing. No wonder the thing looked frightened. "Come now, Little Rabbit." She held out a gloved hand, but the creature didn't move. Frowning she dug into the pockets of her dress and came out with one of the cookies she'd been saving for herself. "Come on. Everyone loves cookies." Although the creature's nose twitched and his head shifted in her direction he still didn't move towards her, but he also didn't move to run. In fact, that the rabbit hadn't scampered off when she'd been poking in the bushes was odd. Giving him another look over she noticed that his breathing was uneven; sporadic at times and shallow at others. Pushing more of the bush aside and leaning in she was finally able to notice the blood on his side. No longer caring if she damaged her dress she dug into the bush until she could wrap her hands around the rabbit and pull him out. He gave what seemed to be a whimper as she moved him. She couldn't be gentle in getting him out, because of how far in the bush he'd burrowed, but she did try to get him out as fast as she could to lessen how long he'd have to suffer being moved. Cradling the creature to her chest she turned on her heel and hurried off to her castle. She went straight to her chambers and without a thought for the silken covers that she'd likely ruin by doing so, she set the rabbit down. She wouldn't be able to gather the supplies she'd need with him in her arms. "Okay, I've got.." She started to speak and then stopped as she rounded the corner and saw not an animal, but a man laying across her bed. Not just a man, but a naked man. A naked.. bleeding.. man. "Ra...bbit.." It wasn't his nudity that held her attention. It was the blood that was now seeping into her covers. It just seemed to make all the difference that it was now a man ruining her bedspread and not an animal. If she didn't know better she might have thought it was a joke, but she could clearly see the rabbit ears that were protruding from the man's head. The right of which had that same heart design that the bunny she'd rescued had had. She'd spoken, but he hadn't turned to her, so maybe he didn't know she was there yet. Carefully she set down her armful of supplies beside the bed and then peeked over him. His eyes were closed, but his sides still moved, even if faintly, so she wasn't worried he was dead. At least not yet. Staring at him, she couldn't help wondering and reaching over she went to touch her fingertips to the heart surrounding his eye. A second longer and she'd have touched him, but instead she found her wrist trapped in a tight, yet gentle embrace. "Is the Queen a nurse today?" He'd barely finished speaking before his hand slipped away, dropping to the bed. How had she forgotten he was still bleeding to death? Oh yes, he had suddenly appeared naked and not at all like the rabbit she'd brought in. "The Queen is whatever she wants to be." Twisting around she dipped one of the rags she'd brought over in a small bowl of warm water. Ringing out the excess she pressed the cloth to the side of the wounds, or what she assumed to be the side. It was hard to tell as his skin was all smeared with blood. His body twitched in reaction to her touch, but no matter how gentle she tried to be it was still going to hurt. Furred ears twitched atop her head as she heard that strange sound again. So much like mewling, but not. At least she knew what the cause of it was now. She had to rinse the rag out multiple times before she could clearly see the definition of his wounds. It looked as if something had torn open his side, possibly teeth. That would make sense if he was running around as such a prey-like creature. At least the bleeding had slowed. Her touch was soft, which he found at odds with the rough nature she always seemed to exude. He was thankful for that. That and the fact she didn't seem to have a taste for rabbit stew. Being cooked wasn't one of his preferred ways of dying. Bleeding to death on her bed didn't seem so bad, though. She'd probably never forgive him for that. He could just imagine the fit she'd throw and she'd somehow make it his fault as if he'd chosen to get mauled by the wolf. Despite all that he found himself grinning. He even started laughing until the movement caused a sharp pain to stab up his side, causing him to wince in regret. She'd been about to swat him with the rag for moving and interfering with her care of him and she would have if it weren't for that faint whimper he tried to swallow down. Instead she sighed and set the cloth aside. Why had he been laughing anyway? Delirious with pain? She thought all this while threading a needle. The wounds were too deep to leave healing on there own, but luckily for him nothing important seemed damaged. There'd be a bit of scarring, but she saw nothing wrong with that. Everyone needed a bit of toughening up now and then. He watched as she laced the needle. For some reason it never crossed his mind that it might be for him, because it brought his attention to the fact she'd torn her dress when she'd dug him out of the bush. Odd that she'd fix her own clothes instead of getting her servant to do it for her. Now that his attention was on it he noticed little scratches on the back of her hand and a couple thin one's marring her cheek. She wasn't pristine anymore. That was his fault. Did she just say something? It was hard to tell, but he swore her lips were moving. At least he thought they were. Had she drugged him somehow? His vision was blurring over and he really didn't feel like fighting the wave of drowsiness washing over him. Oh, well, that didn't really matter. All he could think of as the world passed was the warmth of her hand pressing down on his hip and rudely being interrupted by a sharp prick against his side. Leandra swept the cowl of her cloak from her head as she stepped into the clearing. Nobody would bother her here. The maze she'd set up would ensure it. This was the most sacred place she had and nobody was allowed to enter. She herself hadn't been here in some time. This place, as beautiful as it was with it's spread of silver-white glowing lilies, was a place of pain for her and the reason was kneeling amongst the bed of flowers. To others he might just be a statue, but he wasn't always. He'd once moved amongst the people, talking and laughing like anyone else until the day fate entwined their paths together. Fate, she was a cruel bitch. Surely somebody had fucked her over for her to torture as she did.
"Teri.." His name fell past her lips like a sigh. She hadn't moved since her gaze had fallen upon his visage. He was forever trapped with that look of horrified pain on his face, but she swore she could still see those other emotions crossing over his features; disbelief, angst, rage, sorrow and even that of tender love and adoration. Leandra might as well have ripped his heart from his chest. It probably would have been kinder. He never should have came that night. He should've let love go in death, but he couldn't. No. He'd never leave his Goddess without honoring her. Maybe if that honor hadn't turned to blame then maybe, just maybe, he'd have left this glowing glade. If he'd have left, though, would anything of him remain for her? "What was it you said when you'd found me?" She closed her eyes as if she could see the words being spelt out inside her head, "If you could be lost in the forever of a timeless memory, wouldn`t that be better than fading after all?" Through all the lives she'd lived. Every memory she'd held since that night, she'd never forgotten and he'd never faded. He'd found a memory to trap himself in. A memory she wished they'd never created, but one she'd never let go of. As Queen, Leandra usually spent her time in extravagance, but the stone bench she sat on to be near her beloved statue was a simple one. She could've given it any comforts she wanted, but with him, simplicity was enough. "Its been many years since I've closed my heart to love, yet still a memory remains. A memory of you. It's the last beautiful thing in my life. The only thing I've left pure. You always reminded me to be better. To be kinder. To look for the beautiful in the good rather then the beauty of the bad. You guided me in my morality. With you I learned of patience and tolerance. You eased the turmoil in my heart, but when you left it was like a storm washing over me, sweeping me away. I've been feeding my monsters and they know nothing of humility. They are vain and selfish. Why be kind when it's so much easier to be cruel? To give into the hate. The anger." She had to avert her gaze from the statue's face as she spoke. She couldn't speak such ill things while looking at him and not feel shame. It was so easy to embrace the bad parts of herself. So much easier then the good. The good attracted people, but the bad things earned their dislike. You only cared as long as you worried about what they thought and how they felt. When she was being evil she didn't need to worry. She didn't care "If you were here, would you be disappointed? You've never shown any disdain towards me. Never made me feel like anything less than lovely. Not even when I was being ugly." Pinching a stem betwixt her fingers she gave a bending twist and tug that caused the flower to snap off. Her fingers brushed against the petals as she lifted the lily to her face, inhaling the scent of it. They'd created this glade out of love-torn hearts and bitter goodbye's. It was the grace of a new star that lit this field. A star she'd once bestowed upon him and then stolen away in hopes that he'd be able to move on. A star to watch him, yet like herself, never be in reach. Much like himself. It was strange the way they could be so close and yet never able to catch one another. Although they'd danced the same dance, their steps always led them around and never together. "But despite the lightness of your soul, yours was the way of the warrior while mine was of love, but now that I no longer have that, what path is left to me? Should I too take up a weapon and forge a trail through blood? Or should I bow my head and let others fight while my memory fades from this place? It is much uglier for the things I've lost. For the things I crave. The things I deny myself despite knowing I could have it all. Oh, yes, Teri, anything in this world could be mine if I just put forth the effort to have it.. But you know that. . So tell me why. Why do I fight myself? Why do I try falling further into darkness when it pushes aside everything I want? Am I a masochist for the pain? Or am I truly incapable of loving anyone in the shadow of your memory?" For awhile she sat in silence, twirling that lily round and round between her fingers and making the petals dance as the air brushed and pushed against them. He'd once blamed her for his love, but what of her own? Was he not the one that had made a Goddess of her? And yet here she was playing at Queen. How could she be anything more without the worship of her eternal warrior and mortal muse? But this crown, it meant nothing to her. "I wonder what my court would think if they knew?" She shook her head as she took her crown and set it on her lap. She traced an index finger along the edges of each triangular point until her fingers met in the front. "This piece of décor and an empty castle.. That's what I've trapped myself with. For what's a Queen without a King? How could I ever choose when my heart still chases whimsy romances of your creation?" Leandra scooped the lily out of the center of the crown as she stood up. The crown itself being left to spill from her lap and roll through the glade until tipping over and stopping. Lifting the fabric of her dress she knelt in front of his statue. "Tell me, Teri, what happens to a Goddess forgotten by time? Your worship alone was all it took to raise me higher then any other and a thousand others could never come close to the pedestal you'd created." Her palms pressed to his cheeks and even with the thin layer of fabric sheathing her hands she could still feel the cold seeping against her skin. His face had been soft once. Warm to the touch. At least the transition hadn't altered his features. He was still as gorgeous as he'd been in the flesh. Sloping cheeks, amiable jaw, plush lips and eyes that forever seemed to question her soul. It was the eyes that always got her. It was the way in which he'd watch her as if every movement was a piece to a puzzle he hadn't solved. It was the pain just beneath the surface and the joy that clouded it out. It was the adoration he expressed in stolen glances. He had the most expressive eyes of anyone she'd ever met and for that expression to be stolen away, hidden within stone, that was the greatest tragedy. "Why did you have to leave? You say it was to protect me, but I'd have rather burned with you then be left to live alone." He should've known better. Things were never as simple as he thought with this woman and he really, really should've known better. It didn't matter how many times he went over that, it didn't change the fact that he'd ignored every voice in his head that had warned him against following her. How could he resist, though? He'd wanted nothing more than for her to turn her attention to him since the moment they'd met. For her to look on him with favor and not just in passing glances. Perhaps that was his folly. Having been so desperate for any meager bit of affection she'd throw his way he had managed to put himself in her view, just not in the position he'd been hoping for. Although his heart was hammering in his ears it did nothing to drown out that lilting voice as she continued to torment him with her words. "Was it not you who craved my touch? Who sought my affection? My love even?" Words wouldn't be enough to drive into him the emotion she desired so as he knelt there, held by his hair, she reached around and skimmed her fingers along his cheek until she was gripping his jaw between her fingers. Forcing him to tilt his face upwards she leaned over to brush his ear with her lips as she continued to tease, "Is it not you who burns with envy at the mere thought of me flirting with another?" Her tongue traced along the rim of his ear and caused him to shiver. She made it hard to hate her when she teased him like this. If he could drown out her words and focus only on her touch then maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Hadn't he once found her touch soothing? When had that changed? How had he missed it? How could a hand that once burned him with its warmth feel so cold?
Sometimes she wondered what he'd feel if he knew that he was the only one she did this with, but that would be counterproductive. After all, he was the only one that could give her what she wanted; what she needed, but that was only as long as he held onto his jealousy. It was why she would never tell him she'd fallen in love with the expression of his pain. It was impossible to hide the fact that his suffering made her feel alive and she was nothing if not selfish. The only bliss she would offer him would be what she could later tear apart at the seams for her own satisfaction. She could've easily given this man her heart, but how could she bring herself to hurt him then? "Does it hurt?" She asked as she guided his hand up along her side; her fingers soon squeezing around his. "The thought of another man running his hand along my skin like that?" Her lips brushed the skin of his neck as she spoke, skimming them along the crook of his shoulder and pausing to speak again, "To think of me teasing his throat with my lips instead of yours?" He knew he should push her away, but he'd never been able to bring himself to do that. He could feign the cold shoulder, trade cruel remarks or even beat her until she was as bruised and broken as his heart and ego, but he couldn't reject her. The one thing that might hit a painful nerve with her and he couldn't do it. His thoughts mixed with her voice in mockery of himself and his fingers twitched against her side; an angry twinge. Swallowing past the dryness of his mouth he parted his lips to speak only to find his tongue too heavy to form words. The weight of the truth of it all left him speechless. He hated her. He hated her for showing him what love could be; for making him want more. He hated her for her casual dismissals and nonchalance. He hated her for the way she toyed with him and the way he jumped at the mere sound of her voice. Hated how she had him waiting for any bit of attention her whimsical heart could spare, but he hated her even more for how she understood enough of him to know what to twist to bring him crawling right back into her double edged embrace. With thoughtless words she could make him feel utterly worthless, pathetic, unwanted and the worst of all, used. Some might see that as reason enough to tell her to fuck off, but they didn't know what it was like to feel her love, because when she did love there was nothing that compared. He just couldn't understand why she had to love things that hurt so bad when her love could be so pure. If he didn't reply then perhaps she'd remain frozen like this and for a moment he let his thoughts slip to the feel of his hand just beneath her breast and the heat of her breath falling against his neck that caused her chest to expand and retract beneath his palm. That small slip lost him whatever footing he'd been holding onto and past trembling lips he managed to croak out in a bare whisper, "Yes." His eyes squeezed shut against the shame that burned inside his mind at the admission. It was as if she could hear the breaking of his heart in that one word and while his was breaking hers was swelling with joy; excitement. Pushing his hand away she forced it over his head as she pushed him onto his back so that she was on her hands and knees on top of him. "Look at me." She demanded, searching his face and finding it irritating that she couldn't see his eyes. His lashes fluttered a moment before his eyes opened to reveal what was to her a beautiful mix of ire and pain. Smiling she brushed the backs of her fingers along his cheek. He was so much like a wounded pup and she couldn't help, but want to kick him while he was down. "Imagine it then.. My body pressing down on another's instead of you." She lowered her mouth towards his until they were a hairbreadth apart, "Imagine that what you're feeling is being done to someone else." When she kissed him he squeezed his eyes shut again; trying to block out the image she was giving him. Despite the fact he knew she was with him right now and not someone else he couldn't help seeing her kissing someone else. That she was even thinking of another man while she was with him was bad enough in itself. What he couldn't know is that she wasn't thinking of anyone, but him and that he was the only one imagining someone else with her. All of her attention right now was for him, which ironically, was all he wanted so he could make her forget that anyone else even existed; to make her forget it was possible for someone else to make her happy or bring her pleasure. He never wanted to hear mention of another man's name cross her lips or see the idea flash through her eyes, but the harder he fought against it the more he seemed to encourage her. He gasped aloud as her hand pressed between his legs; palm rubbing against the front of his jeans and causing his cock to twitch beneath the fabric. Confusion etched his face as he looked at her, not understanding and rather weary of where she was going with this."Why?" He asked, searching her face for an answer he'd never been able to find. "Because I love it. The way you hurt. The anger you feel. That envy that burns you from the inside out." It had been a trying day and Leandra was ready to laze about her throne room and boss about anyone that had the nerve to enter her domain today. Of course her Rabbit would already be there. When she didn't have him attached at her wrist she liked to leave him attached to her throne. What she wasn't expecting was for him to be on that throne when she walked through the doors. The sight of him sitting there, slouching on her throne with a leg tossed over one of the cushioned arms as if he belonged there would have been enough to pause her, but it was what rested on his head that brought her to a dead stop. A crown of gold lay lopsided atop his head. Her shock turned to an almost calm outrage as she closed her mouth, pursing her lips together. Her tongue ran across the back of her teeth as she mulled over what she was going to do with him. She didn't do kings. She didn't believe in them. That was a simple fact and this display of his was nothing more then a joke to her. An insulting one at that, even if he hadn't meant any real offense by the gesture.
Kouneli had been waiting for Leandra to come back for a few hours now. He'd thought over multiple ways in which to greet her, but he wanted something different today. He wanted something that would get her attention. The grin that spread across his face when she walked in, however, faltered at the sight of her own expression. It was hard to tell what it was he saw from the distance between them, but she didn't look the least bit happy. Oh well. It was too late to change things now. Deciding to go with it, he leaned forward and took words from her own mouth, "It's rude to keep a King waiting." Mocking her. That's what he was doing. She didn't let her rage slip through, though. No. She would play this game with him for now. There was a lesson to be learned, after all. "A King is it?" She inquired, unhurried steps gradually bringing her nearer and nearer. He seemed unaware of the looming danger to his own safety. He just sat there with that lopsided grin. What a fool. She stopped at the steps to the throne and held her left hand out to him. "Yes." He took her hand in one of his and pinched the fabric of her glove's middle finger, then the ring finger and index, gradually pulling the glove from her hand. She clenched the glove in her fist as she held out the other towards him for him to remove. He gave it the same treatment as the other, but before he could finish there was a loud slap as fabric met skin. His head turned to the side with the hit and even with his hair falling over his expression, she could still see enough to get a glimmer of the incredulous look on his face and the pinkened flesh of his cheek. His eyes glared at her with a mix of pain and anger as he straightened himself up. "You could lose your hand for striking your King." So, he still wanted to play? She'd been about to strike him with the glove again, but he caught her wrist and twisted her arm around, bringing her body down onto the throne with him so that she was half laying across it and half over his lap. "I'm not your dog. You don't hit me." It was strange to see him looking so serious. There was usually always a hint of mirth in his eyes, but not right now. Was he really so offended by her hitting him? "I... I'm sorry." She stammered out an apology lacking in conviction. If anything, she just sounded unsure and confused. She wasn't even sure why she was apologizing to him. He was the one who had overstepped his bounds by sitting on her throne and playing at being king when he was nothing more then a pet to keep her company. So how was it then, that she was sitting on his lap and blinking up at him as she waited for him to give her some sort of signal that it was okay? His lips twitched at the corners as he struggled not to smile. It was hard keeping a straight face when she looked so utterly baffled. The confusion almost made her seem helpless, but he wouldn't go so far as to think that. His assuming would probably just set her off into another fit. For now he had her placid and he wanted to keep her that way. "It's okay, but now you'll have to remove your own glove." Leandra glanced over at the glove she'd interrupted him from removing. Perhaps she should've waited. Her fingers curled in and then relaxed. Looking back at him her mouth opened and then closed, deciding it better to not say anything beneath that look she was getting from him. A tightened grip stopped her from reaching over to her gloved hand and caused her to furrow her brow. "How am I supposed to remove it without my other hand?" "You should've thought of that before you slapped me." A furred left ear twitched in irritation as Leandra glared at him. Perhaps that wasn't the best way of keeping her calm and he almost regretted it as her free hand met his cheek with a slap. Less loud then the first time she'd done it, but the impact was heavier since she'd actually used her hand and not a glove. Leandra's eyes went wide as she realized what she'd done. It was out of reaction due to a spike in her temper, but before she could apologize she found herself pushed back over the arm of the throne with her hands held above her head and Kouneli looming over her. "I told you. You. Don't. Hit. Me." He slowly enunciated each word just to be sure she understood him this time. If she didn't want to be cooperative then he'd have to resort to being more forceful. Her own fault really. He'd given her a chance to do as she was asked. He wasn't going to be able to do anything while holding her hands, though. Luckily for him she'd already set up the perfect restraint system. Keeping her wrists locked together with one hand he used his other to loop a slender silver chain around her wrists until her movement became severely limited to almost impossible. The chain being attached to the side of her throne. It usually acted as a leash attachment, but if he had to choose, he much preferred this way of using it. At first Leandra wasn't sure how to respond. She'd come over expecting to punish him for things he shouldn't be doing, but instead she was constantly being thrown off guard and put into compromising positions. If he would've kept her as she was without the chains she probably would've stayed calm longer. She might've even apologized again. Instead she bristled with outrage. He had no right to restrain her. "Take them off!" She twisted her wrists and pulled against the chains as she tried pulling her arms down to no avail. "No." No? Why was he always telling her no? Whining she kicked her foot at the opposite side of the throne, trying to push herself back and away from him. he did nothing to stop her. He merely sat over her with one brow slightly lifted as if silently questioning what she was doing. If she kept writhing and kicking around like that she was going to hurt herself. "Take them off!!" She repeated, sounding much more desperate. The sound of her like that caused his cock to twitch beneath his jeans. Not something she'd notice since he wasn't pressing against her, but something he couldn't ignore. "No." He repeated his own answer back. Tears spilled into her eyes as she continued yanking against the chains. Her efforts gradually dwindling as her arms tired. "Take them off..." She whimpered, half choking on a sob of frustration. She hated being unable to move when she was angry. It's was one of the worst things she'd ever experienced and her heart was racing in an almost panic-like sort of way. He, on the other hand, was bewildered by her reaction. Did she hate being restrained that much? It was almost enough to get him to release her, but he'd be lying if he denied enjoying it, even if just a little. He could only imagine the hell he was going to go through later for this, but he reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek. "There, there.. You'll be fine." His fingers brushed back into her hair, grasping and forcing her to tilt her face up into his direction. "Look, see, you're with me. You're fine. Now breathe." He hadn't planned on it, but his eyes faltered, falling away from her face to skim down over her body. Her wild movement before had caused her clothes to get all mussed. Her skirt was now hiked high up on her thighs allowing him a peek at the lacey pink panties that scantily covered her pussy. Leandra had just started to calm down when she noticed where he was looking. It wasn't as if he was even trying to hide the fact as he was just staring between her legs. "You.. You pervert!" She tried kicking him, rather unsuccessfully. At best she managed to bump him with her leg and knock him slightly off balance. A lot of wasted effort that only got her rewarded with him pushing his knee up between her legs, forcing her to reopen them as she tried pressing them together. "I'm not the one kicking around in a skirt. Now behave." Of course, his telling her to behave was completely contradictory as he found himself staring at her chest as the position he'd placed her in caused her breasts to be pushed forward. That and he couldn't help rubbing his knee between her legs as his cock throbbed beneath his jeans. He knew this wasn't what he'd been aiming for when he'd started this, but hell if he could remember now what it was. "M.. my glove.." She barely managed to breathe out, hoping to distract him. "Huh.. Oh.. Right." He managed to draw his gaze to her wiggling fingers. The sight causing him to smile a bit as he reached up and finger by finger drew the fabric off of her hand and let it fall to the ground without a second thought. Undressing her. Was that his original plan? Even if it wasn't before, he liked the idea of doing so now. His fingers fell along the front of her laced together corset and started plucking at the strings pulling them loose. She wanted to tell him to stop, but words weren't working for her right now. All she seemed able to do was stare at him and he didn't even notice as he was staring down at his hands as he unlaced her clothing. 'He shouldn't be doing that..' She thought, but did nothing to stop him. Not that she could. Maybe she didn't want to. Maybe.. But.. "St.. Don't.." Her cheeks burned with color as she finally spoke and he glanced up at her, pausing in what he was doing. "Don't what?" He asked, tugging at the front of her blouse to pull it up from beneath the corset, since he didn't want to remove that. He'd just wanted to get at the shirt beneath. "Th.. that!" She squirmed, trying to turn away from him. Unbothered he continued to pull the top up and over her head, the fabric merely acting as another restraint to her arms, but also as a blindfold since he saw no reason to move it any further. "Nyah!" She exclaimed, fingers clawing uselessly at the air, "Move it! I can't see!" "If you keep making demands, you won't be able to speak either." His breath was warm against her breast as he spoke and instantly silenced anything else she might have said. 'When had he gotten so close?' She wondered. Surely he'd be able to hear her heart racing now. He hesitated with his mouth scant inches from her breast. She couldn't see him and he kind of liked that, but he figured she'd still be able to tell what he was planning. When she didn't say anything he flicked his tongue against her nipple. "Still want me to stop?" He asked, seeing her bite on her lip. There's no way she wasn't enjoying this. He could even see some remnants of her blush from earlier lingering on her cheeks. Silently she nodded, but that wasn't good enough for him so he flicked his tongue against her nipple again, closing his lips around the puckered bud and giving a small suckle before tugging at it with his teeth. "I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you. Did you want me to stop?" "Ye.. yes!" She gasped aloud. "Then acknowledge me as king." He grinned even though she wouldn't be able to see it. After all, he knew she would never do that. Yes, he did want to hear her say it, but if she did, he'd have to stop and he didn't want to do that. Leandra remained quiet for a few minutes, but finally she said, "No." Just as he expected. That was fine. He'd get his fun out of her and then still make her acknowledge him. The pressure between her legs lessened as he slid his knee back, but kept it high enough up that she couldn't press her thighs together. His hand slid down so that his fingers rubbed against her pussy from over her panties. Even through the material he could tell she was wet for him despite her constant resistance. "I'll give you one more chance before I fuck you into submission. Who's your King?" He asked this as he curled his middle finger, rubbing the tip against her clit. "Nn..no one." It was more then just pride that kept her from saying what he wanted. She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud, but she wanted him to fuck her. She'd been needier then this before, but there was just something about being made helpless and dominated over that she couldn't resist. Quite possibly why her own commands were always being neglected. Hard to rule and be obedient. He couldn't help being just a bit disappointed that she wouldn't say it. "Every Queen needs a King." Was all he said as he slipped a finger beneath her panties and pulled them aside. He'd let her keep them a little longer. They were cute. His middle finger slid inside her pussy, just teasing. He stroked in and out and eventually slid his index finger in her as well. He could tell she was trying not to react to him, but every now and then she'd end up shifting her hips or curling her fingers in towards her palms. His favorite, though, was when her legs would start to spread further and then suddenly try pressing in again when she realized what she was doing. The only thing he didn't like was that she refused to make any noise for him. He wanted to hear her moaning and whimpering. Leandra knelt and slid along the statue's leg until she was sitting at the man's side, resting her weight against him. She wasn't worried that despite the age of the stone he would break. She'd actually tried that before. No crack or chip or sign of age. He was as imprisoned as she was. "I dreamt of you again. Pretty rude of you to just come and go as you please." Of course, there was no answer. There never would be, but still, she paused as if listening. Sometimes she felt as if she could hear his voice and her memory would string together words in her head. This time there was only silence. That was okay, though. "I guess it's got me nostalgic." Gloved fingers skimmed over the leather cover of the journal in her lap; documentation of her lives. "Do you remember. . When we first met?" Leandra didn't need to flip the cover of the book to know what was saved between its pages, but she went through the action anyway, and as she read she began to drift back into a distant time.
------ "Do I know you?" The young girl tilted her head, hands clasped behind her back as she leaned in a way that allowed her to look up at the man she'd bumped into. "You seem. . Familiar." Her toes lifted her closer, but there was still quite the difference between their heights. To make up for it, she squinted her eyes as if that were going to allow her to see him more clearly. Amused by her antics the man pushed her back by placing his index to her forehead. "I think I would remember someone as lovely as yourself." Grinning, she took his finger in all of hers and gave it a shake, "The pleasure is mine then." His own lips twitched, being pulled into an even broader grin. She was definitely a quirky one. A treat, to say the least. "And what's a lady such as yourself doing out all by yourself?" "Ah! A gift, for my fiancé." Why he would be feeling a pang in his chest over finding out she was engaged, he did not know. He'd barely even met the girl and yet he was already quite taken by her. "What kind of fiancé would allow you to come out here all by yourself? Isn't he afraid of someone snatching you up?" He added as much exaggerated astonishment as he could while using her grip on his finger to pull her to the tips of her toes. She held the position as long as she could, but the trembling in her legs eventually led to a forward collapse and his release. He was quick to catch her by the shoulders and push her back upright, but a black-bound book spilled out and tumbled over the cobblestone. As she dove back for it he snatched it up and twisted about on the heel of his foot, letting her move right past him. "Oi! Give that back!" She hopped up and down, hands swatting at the air as she futilely made grabby hands at the book. Of course, he would never be so rude as to open it up and read without her permission, but there was something delightful about watching her jump around with such exuberance. Her childish and bright outlook was refreshing in his world. "Do you like to write?" He asked, returning the book to her outstretched hands. Immediately she pulled it back to her chest and nodded. "Mm! Very much. For some, it's a release. They spill it out to let it go and no longer have to think about it, but for me. . It's.. well.." Her face flushed as she lifted the leather-bound book up over her mouth. Even with it covering her smile, he could see it in her eyes. He could practically feel the increased pulsing of her veins on the tip of his tongue. She was radiating pure joy. This was something she was clearly passionate about. "It's a way of immortalizing it. Even if you get old and forget the way you felt in that moment, it'll always be there, branded into the pages." "Oh? What if someone were to burn it." And just like that, her smile vanished, but her frown disappeared just as quickly in a puff of her cheeks as she swatted his chest with her book. "Heathenous thoughts!" Laughter bubbled up from the man. She was truly innocent. A rare being indeed. "My apologies. Perhaps you could share a piece with me?" Truthfully he was curious as to what such a creature as she could possibly be writing about. He couldn't imagine her writing about anything serious. Surely it must be something naïve or whimsical. For the first time, he saw her hesitate and clutch the book a little tighter. Was she shy? "Um.. O..okay!" Suddenly she was shoving the book at him, causing him to fumble as he tried to get a good hold. "But I still have to find a gift, so you only get a few minutes!" "I better hurry then." He hadn't thought it would take him long at all. With what he was expecting he had assumed it would be a few quick flips of the pages and his curiosity and interest in the girl would be sated, but that was not the case. What he came across was not cute. It was raw. It was pain. Uncertainty. Longing. It was a girl searching for who she was and where she belonged. His fingers followed the words as he read, muttering aloud the last bit of the paragraph he was on. ". . She knows now that she can never be that person her heart yearned to be." Pausing he looked up to ask, "Who did you want to be?" Giving a half shrug of one shoulder she turned about and started walking off, "If you want to know, I suppose you'll have to come shopping with me. Maybe you'll be able to find your answer in the pages." Intrigued and also glad he'd gotten an opportunity to continue reading the man decided to follow the girl. Even with his eyes glued to the pages he never missed a step or came close to running into another person. Every now and then he'd read something aloud and look over to her in hopes of commentary. "You do poetry as well?" "Of course! It's where I started." She spared a glance back over her shoulder before continuing to browse the wares laid out in front of her. "So whisper false truths to always be true, Because this is the last time my heart can love through. . Are you having troubles with your fiancé?" He silently chastised himself for feeling a twinge of hope at the idea, but the more he read the more he wanted to hoard the girl away for himself. To pick at her mind and try to piece her together like some intricate puzzle. "Don't all engagements have troubles? It's how you handle them that matters. You can't just stop or quit, because you're hurting or angry. You keep trying. What good is love if you just give up?" "Do you love him?" "Of course!" He didn't see the brief look of doubt that crossed her face. She'd been defending that statement for so long now that it had almost, become more of a burden than anything. Something she repeated over and over like a broken record until all meaning was lost. She did love him, though, didn't she? It didn't matter. No matter the doubt she had like she said, you kept trying and that is what she would keep doing. He nearly crashed into her as she drew up short and turned to him with her hand outstretched. "You're out of time, though." At some point during his reading, she had purchased an item. He'd missed what it was and now it was wrapped and bound. It was small enough to fit in her hand. What kind of gifts would she give, he wondered. "Before that, I am obligated to ask. This piece, here, 'The Tears only burn when the scars are new And bruises they fade like memories do.' Does this represent actual physical abuse?" "Of course not. I've never been hit in my life. It's the bruises left behind on the soul. The mind. The heart." "Will we meet again?" "A surprise for the future, maybe." She teased, plucking the book from his hand as she skipped away, leaving him staring after her with a half-dazed grin. He wanted that girl, fiancé be damned. ~~~ "I was happy. When we met again. Circumstances and all. Who would've thought.. You'd have been that man's uncle. ." She paused there. She hadn't planned on thinking of the man she'd once married. Even now his memory weighed upon her like an inescapable shadow. They had been so young when they'd met. She'd never known what it had been to love or be loved by a man before him. She only had ideas and thoughts of what it should be and she had tried so hard to live up to those ideals. She had even tried far past the point of believing anymore. Her fingers trembled over the page as she stared off across the glade. She didn't need to look to recall what she'd walked in on when she'd gotten home back then. ~~~ There was still a bounce to her step as she pushed through the doors of her home. Chance encounter or not she couldn't help feeling as if she knew that stranger and there was a piece of her hoping she'd get to meet him again. She'd barely made it halfway down the hall before she faltered; her heart stuttering and skipping a beat as she heard a familiar voice. Coming to a halt she pressed back against the wall, clutching her gift to her chest as she listened to the muffled voices on the other side of the door. "She doesn't like me talking to you. She feels weird I guess." "Then tell her to take that up with me. I'll kill her. Don't tell me you're gonna let her keep you on a leash?" Male laughter came more clearly than the words, "You're so mean." "I'm not mean. I just don't like people giving me limitations. By limiting you she limits me. I don't play well with girls. You know this. Is it really worth your misery? Think about it. You're acting like her bitch. I'm not too happy about that. Not one bit." Still, more laughter followed what she considered to be harsh words. "Sassy bitch." "I'm serious. This isn't a laughing matter. She's clingy and possessive. I have nothing against her, but this isn't something I can swallow or sweep under the rug. I won't do it." ". . I don't have the heart to tell her not to worry, just because I don't care what happens doesn't mean she feels the same about rumors. Think she fears me waiting for you again." "You can blame her. If you love someone you should be able to trust them. Rumors will always fly. Will she believe them all? I think you're better than that. You may not, but I do. And it's not ok for her to possess you like some little rag doll." ~~~ The crinkling of the page as it crumpled pulled Leandra back to the present. She had wanted to hate that woman, but that wasn't how the past had unfolded. She had actually rather liked her despite the constant obstacle she had been. Not her exactly. He was the one who had made her that way. He who had waited for her, while Leandra had waited for him. Constantly neglected and yet always waiting with a smile and open arms when he'd decide he wanted to come feel warm and wanted. Had that woman done to him what he'd done to her? Truthfully, she had never bothered to learn much of their relationship. It was always lies with him. 'I never even talk to her. Never' Lies. He was always saying he never spoke to her, but then never became 'Not in months, but this month due to coming events' and then 'We rarely talk, unless we're in the same area.' or 'She just reached out, because it was my birthday'. Excuse after excuse and yet back then, she had just. . let it go because she didn't want to believe he was still waiting on a woman who had rejected him when she had been so willing to love him. He always had an excuse. A defense that started with 'This is why what you're saying or seeing is wrong' and going into 'and this is why you're important and how I feel' So easily trying to cover up his wrongs with words of love. He had been gifted with a serpent's tongue. Suddenly she found herself smiling, head tilting back to look up at the stone face above, "But so were you, weren't you, Chev?" Leandra stared at the unnecessarily large bed before her. She didn't want to sleep. Sleeping meant dreaming and dreaming meant returning to times and places she'd already lived through. Memories that she'd never trade but didn't want to live in either and yet her past wouldn't let her go. A drawback to her conscious reincarnation. Unluckily, or luckily depending on perspective, the person with her didn't care for what she wanted one way or another. His only job was to look after her health and daily living situation. Without warning his hand closed over her mouth, a tiny pill being pushed past her lips that she'd eventually be forced to swallow as he kept her mouth covered and pinched her nose closed with the fingers of his other hand. She could have gone through the ritual act of fighting against him, but this routine was so overplayed she decided to allow it without an altercation. His ribs could probably use a rest from her elbows abuse. It didn't take long for the medication to have her slumping back into her Butlers arms.
The first thing to come to her was sound. The sound of a familiar voice, "Shield maiden, I have decided to honor you as you should be honored at last.." This voice once stirred her soul with warmth, but there was deep bitterness attached to it now. This man had held her heart in a way that no other man in any of her lives ever had. She had always seen him as such a pure being and as such he had always made her want to be better simply by existing, but the pedestal he'd placed her on was far to heavy a burden. "I`m sorry.. for adoring you as a holy thing must never be adored: like the attainable which, after all, I finally realize you are not.." These words. This speech. She remembered it. This was the last speech he ever gave at her grave and though trapped in the body of a corpse beneath a case of glass, unable to open her eyes and see she knew that loosely curled in the fingers of his left hand was a simple red amaryllis. The last gift he'd brought her. It was one of the flowers they had first bonded over in her obsession with all the various meanings. It had reminded her of him. A silly reason - but she'd always found him to be so poetic and the flower had loose relation to poetry in its meaning; along with that of love. "Now I know why the magi chose to bury themselves in time." It was akin to torture having to go through all this again. To hear the resignation in his voice. The disbelief. The angst. "If they could be lost in the forever of a timeless memory, wouldn`t that be better than fading after all? Who needs eternal life without eternal purpose? Give me the same hour I spent with you over a thousand years in any other heaven." Her soul had transcended death to bear witness to this goodbye. To the blame he was about to lay upon someone long gone from his world. She was angry then. So very angry. She knew he could feel it. A piece of her, even now, still held onto that rage, afraid to let it go. Afraid that in doing so, she would lose another piece of him. Of them. "Well. It was enchanting." She knew his face was crumbling, each emotion he was feeling fighting to find it's place. His own pain reaching its peak as he relinquished his thoughts to one he assumed could no longer hear him, though he should have known better. She had always been one to defy nature itself. After all, she was the Goddess he made her to be. "You know, it`s your fault I am what I am. Ever since you hung that millstone around my neck, that beautiful silver star, I`ve tried everything and anything to get you out of my system. I`ve searched many eyes, touched many faces, broken more hearts than any one of your sighs, there is no drug in the world, no grave in hell, no throne in heaven, that can ever remove your empty palace from my heart.. For a while the thrill of defeating violence was enough to keep my mind off of it, I admit if you had a rival it would be the arts I chase.. still.. When I`m spinning off of cliffs and fighting false gods and devils, I can`t be touched, nothing can stand in my way, because of you. They all bore me to death. You drove me to become something unimaginable. It`s like I told you ages ago- ages to my heart by now- one thought of you and I am invincible. Ten, a hundred, a galaxy, I have no rival. You`ve made me everlasting. I can`t hate you for that. But you stole the meaning of my forever. What good is a useless forever? A godless heaven? Space with no stars, sun, moon, nothing, just a comet flying in an empty galaxy! Do you know what you`ve made of me?" The stem of the Amaryllis became choked in his fingers. His eyes kept downcast to hide the ruin within them. "Please don`t ever understand me quite so well again" His voice softened for only a moment, before pitching higher as he let his own anger take reign until he was yelling at the corpse of someone he had considered most sacred. Demanding answers he never believed he would hear. "The next time will be your last, I don`t belong to anyone! Do you hear me! I don`t belong to you.. no one can keep me! Are you listening to me? I`ve forgotten how to worship you. Your temple is disgraced within me and the bitter ashes are sweet to my taste. Knowing that I overthrew your love will be better than the deaths of ten enemies. How dare you have me love you? How did you poison me- Confess!" There was only silence in the moments that passed as the release of his pent up frustration came crumpling back down inside him. His heart was a mess. His usual pristine composure long since ruined and his soul was tired. Tired of loving and tired of fighting. "How could you make loving you alone better than life with any other? Why would you do this to me?" There was a shift now. Subtle at first, though not missed by the man. It was a power he was familiar with. One that had long been in slumber, but not dead. At least not in the same sense as the physical aspect. This was her forest after all and it only made sense that she would linger within it. Vines slid across the coffin, squeezing until the weight cracked the glass, small shards breaking off and falling inward only to be followed shortly after by a complete collapse. The beauty of the appearing light above dispelled the dismay that might have come from hearing the glass break and instantly intoxicated by the aural glow of a familiar silhouette he loses his focus on all other things for a few long, tripped-up heartbeats. "You would try to lay blame upon a dead woman? You ask these questions of Me as though it were my fault. Did I ask you to worship me? To.. Love me? What, tell me, did I ever ask of you?" At first, unsure of what he was seeing he blamed grief causing him to hallucinate, but the more the apparition spoke the clearer it became. A sigh passed her lips as he reached towards her, expressing her displeasure. He hadn't answered her, but she moved past those first questions and right into another. "What makes you hold on so? Is it this place? This body?" She gestured from the glade to the corpse. A past identity the spirit struggled to relate with. This was only one of many lives of which she had and would live. She hadn't known at that time just how it would come back to her once she'd left that transitional state. She hadn't known just how much of her soul she was really leaving in this place. "Consider it gone then." A wave of her hand and the once immaculate corpse fell in upon itself, burnt to ash without flame. Specks of it got caught up in the breeze and if one could see close enough; the spreading ashes would be visible floating across the surface of the mans eyes as he tracked them in a paralysis of conflicting desires. Part of him wanted to lurch toward the empty place where the body once decorated the case, the other part of him wanted to lash out at the spirit for what she did. The collision of hurt and rage in his eyes is particularly perfect; it somehow leaves him with a loving expression of gratitude. She had, after all, removed as much burden as she added. "There's nothing binding you here anymore. . So let it go." Insubstantial, though she was, it didn't stop her from moving closer so he could hear her, not just the words spoken, but really hear her and understand if not from the words, but from the pity in her face. "You're clinging to things long lost and this love you claim is becoming tainted by these bitter emotions you're harboring." Though he didn`t know why, his pulse hammered in his ears again making it dizzying for him to even look at the spirit who he realized with great dismay had not returned for good as she spoke the severing words. He could only hold his chin stiffly up, taking them as fearlessly as he could despite being wracked with anxiety. To answer her he nods, then stares dazedly up at her. His eyes studying hers, searching, seeking until finally he nods a second time. That time letting his chin fall and his eyes stay shut. "I always knew you would come back to say goodbye. . Did you know you could be loved to death?" Settling into silence again, he opened his fingers so the amaryllis fell into the tall grass around the greenish headstone medallion.. She recoiled at those words. Scoffing at the mere fact he would even dare to make such a comment to her of all people. "Wasn't it 'Love' that got me here? Or had you forgotten?" In a constant shift of emotion that momentary rage was soon replaced by one of sympathy; loathing what she was about to do next. The calmness of her voice masked the turmoil she felt as she held her hand out to him. "The star. Give it to me." With his eyes going wide, he said nothing, but there was no hesitance as he obeyed her. Hand delving into his shirt to pull the silver, seven pointed elven star out and over his head. "Goodbye.." he manages to mutter before the loudness of his pulse chokes off further hearing. Now there was only shame and fire inside of him, spreading quickly, erasing everything else. He'd come here to vent his own rage and pain and instead had been quickly, though briefly reprimanded; This punishment, though, was one he knew he would not be able to bear. His soul wasn't the only one screaming out, though. Leandra, trapped inside this past phantoms body was screeching into a soundless void. She knew it was useless. She knew that no matter how loud she screamed her voice would never make it through. That over and over she would watch this same scene play through as it did every time. She would watch as her past life gave in to the rage and pride that would end their meetings. The meetings that had spanned lifetimes, but this had been their last. She had never met him again after she'd taken that guiding star. Had he even been reborn again? She did not know. What she did know, was that no matter how much she wanted to take it back. No matter how much she wanted to stop this ghost, she could do nothing. Nothing, but stare into the glaringly bright burst of light that exploded from the once metal piece of jewelry as it swept over the palm of her hand. The light burned out the already wispy form of the phantom, erasing the woman once known as Thasaer. The heat of the newly born star caused the flora nearby to shrink away before it shot upwards towards the night sky. Glowing more faintly then the star that had just fled the earth was an array of lilies, left behind, speckled by the fallen dust and kneeling amongst the glade was the living headstone of a man now frozen in constant mourning. The whirlwind of expression in his face was one no artist could have ever carved; It was the moment of acceptance, of heartbreak, of longing, of dying rage, of love. It was everything he'd ever felt frozen in a single moment of time. Leandra was haunted by that expression as she shot awake; her scream echoing around the room and bouncing back to her. Throwing her blankets aside she leapt from her bed, half tripping as she ran across the floor. The balcony doors swung wide as she shoved her way through and partially climbed over the railing so she could scream down into the courtyard below. "I hate you! I HATE YOU!" She screeched over and over again, though knowing in her heart she didn't mean it. That she had never meant it. How does one go about telling a story? Do they start from the beginning? The end? Somewhere in between? My story has many in betweens and many beginnings with just as many ends, because life is not simple and straightforward. It's convoluted with many twists and turns that doesn't leave much in the way of a starting point, so maybe I'll start with you. My daughter.
You should never be a princess, always be a Queen. A princess is always waiting for her prince. She is always waiting to be saved. She is indecisive and whimsical, not yet knowing where she belongs. She is weak of stance and fortitude. She is a fragile thing in need of protection. She is to be coddled and cared for and treated to see the world through rosey eyes, but that isn't the world you should know. You should be a Queen and know the world as it is, with the good and the bad. You see, a Queen is strong. She knows her place, her mind, her heart. She is firm in belief, but questions all. She is unrivaled in will and she doesn't need a man or woman or anyone else to save her. She will fight for herself and others will fight for her, not because she needs it, but because she commands it. She's earned it. She knows that people are not just toys to play with as she's bored, but that they are more. They are precious in their right. They are precious, because they are hers. The world is hers and what is hers must be cared for. Even in her cruelty she is with heart. The princess is the one you keep deep inside your own heart, because she is what gives you your innocence and allows you to stay open to the world, but she must stay cocooned by the rest of your heart, protected by the you that is a Queen, because like I said, a princess is something that needs defending and who says you can't be your own protector. . The words smeared off as the paper was pulled from beneath Leandra's pen. "Huh.. You don't have a daughter." The pen flicked through the air as Leandra's fingers twitched in irritance. That ever-bland voice was unmistakable. Feroun. "Not yet.. but maybe.. someday." Her fingers grasped empty air as she snatched for the letter she'd been writing only to have it slip through her grasp as the butler turned on his heel and leaned himself against the desk she sat at. "Why write it now?" "Because. There's no way I could tell her about all my lifetimes in just one. There's far too much to say. Too much she'll need to know. To learn." "Hn." Seemingly disinterested the man waved the paper around, constantly avoiding her grasping hands until finally he stopped and pushed her back into her seat with a hand to her head. "Seems more like you're lecturing then telling her a story." "I clearly stated that I didn't know where to start!" She practically growled as she shoved his hand aside to lurch herself towards the paper only to once again be denied access to it. "Huh.. Why not just start with the first thing that comes to mind then?" "The first thing..?" For a moment Leandra paused, thinking on what her butler had suggested. Knowing she'd finally come to an answer Feroun finally allowed the letter to be snatched back. Slapping it down on the desk Leandra scrawled in big blocky letters right across the bottom of the page, 'Everyone's Dead.' "If I were to show you that there was softness inside of me, that my heart could love, that I were capable of kindness and mercy, what would you do then? Would you look at me with different eyes? Would you give forgiveness where once there was only spite? Would you lose your will to hate me with all that you are? Would you want to keep loving me like you have?"
Leandra reached through the bars that separated her from her feral wolf. The metal was cold against her cheek as she pressed close to them, seeking to close every little inch that she could. From the darkness there was only a growl in response to her words; this soon followed by the clinking of chains as the man suddenly lurched forward, snarling and baring his teeth. A useless threat as the muzzle he wore kept him from being able to bite even if he were to try. "Those eyes, so full of rage." She murmured, fingers stroking his cheek, folding over one of the straps of the muzzle before letting it snap back into place. "It's your own fault, you know. You shouldn't have tried to run. I can't let you do that. Not ever." With every word she spoke her eyes glazed over until she was staring at him with an obsession she felt all the way to her soul. "I would tear your limbs from you body, if it meant keeping you here. I would ruin you entirely, so that all the world would see is some hideous, disfigured cripple who couldn't be fixed. . But not me. Never me." No matter what physical impairment she put on him, she would never be able to hate the person who brought to life things that she'd thought long dead and she planned to love him the only way she knew how, even if it killed him. Did he hate her? Yeah, he probably did. He hated her for this prison she kept him in and not just the physical one. How many times had he tried to run now? How many times had he crawled back to her himself? It disgusted him, but that traitorous organ in his chest yearned for her in ways he couldn't fathom. It was maddening. She brought out the worst of him. Not just the worst, but the best. At least she made him see what his best could be and he was constantly having to watch as he failed to reach it over and over again. That was what she wanted, though. Every. Fucking. Thing. The woman was insatiable. He'd never met someone who could take such joy in the pain she was given. Much of it she brought upon herself. It's like she wanted him to hurt her. To tear her open. Expose her heart. Crush it. Fix it up and do it all over again. Wasn't that supposed to be considered unhealthy? Abnormal? Psychotic? "You wouldn't want me to stop hating you. That would be insulting." He knew he'd found his opening when she smiled. Who knew he could dislike something he enjoyed so much? "Mm. Tis true. For you to stop hating me, you'd have to let go of something. I want to gain. Not lose." Leandra knew when he jerked away from her touch that he only did it out of spite. She could tell in the way his eyes slid over to follow her hands retreat that he was regretting his own pride. She hugged the prison bars with her fingers, sliding them down the metal in a silent taunt. "If you would just decide to be good, I could let you out of here." A snort came fast in response. "What? And play dog at your throne?" "It would be less cold than sleeping outside alone." "I'd rather freeze." His lips lied easily, but his body gave him away. No matter how closed he tried to be, he was always leaving himself open in the smallest ways. "Fight it as much as you want. As hard as you want. You'll submit to your feelings and you'll come to lay at my feet. . Would it not be easier to just say yes now?" It was her tone that made him pause and actually look at her. She sounded exhausted. She looked exhausted. His pulse quickened as he caught scent of vulnerability. She hated to show weakness. Her need to be in control was incessant. He had to be careful not to spook his prey and lose a rare advantage. "There are other places I'd rather lay. Getting stepped on gets rather tedious." A shot at past abuse that caused her lips to twitch. "And let you get fleas in my bed?" Fuhuhuh... yep. I suck at finishing things. "Do you remember when we were younger?"
The little dragoness questioned her Queen. Even as proud of a race as she was, she had never minded relinquishing her pride to worship Leandra. In fact, it was a point of pride for her to do so. The Queen was like a living treasure that the dragon could hoard or share with the world; showing her off like the great prize she considered her. "Of course.. You were quite the... influence." Leandra hesitated on the correct wording. Truly, the dragoness had been a terrible influence from a certain perspective. Leandra had avoided her academics, curfews and responsibilities to run amok with the other girl. "The catalyst that changed my life." Leandra smiled at the memories and in a slight show of affection she brushed the side of her hand up against that of the others as they laid, staring up at the night sky. "You taught me a new kind of love. . a new kind of freedom." "And you, you were my conscience." The smile Leandra had faded slightly as the memories also reminded her that they were no longer the children they once were and that she was no longer the light the dragoness had once considered her to be. They had been like Yin and Yang and like most things in life, they had changed. At some point it was as if the two had revolved around one another, switching positions. Part of her was disgusted by the personality change in her dragoness, but another part was happy for her. She'd found a semblance of the peace she'd been searching for for so long. "Did being so close to the dark, did it.. was it my fault?" Leandra didn't respond to the question immediately, but eventually she shook her head. "No." "I never.. I never paid close enough attention to you. I was supposed to watch you. Guard you. . but I. . I failed." It was rare to hear the dragoness speak so lowly of herself or so openly on how she felt, but the two of them had shared pieces of their souls. ". . And I knew. . from before. ." "I felt . . guilty." Leandra confessed, glancing over at the creature beside her. A creature she'd adored since they'd met. A creature she'd felt she had hurt, because when she was younger she didn't understand. "You were happy. So happy. You practically glowed. I'd never seen you that way before and part of me was angry. Not at your happiness, but that you thought you didn't deserve it. That you weren't worth it. That that guy was more than you. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted.." Leandra clenched her teeth and looked back towards the sky. She'd always felt such shame at that memory. A memory where she'd lost control and broken down. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |