Post by Blue but beautiful on Apr 24, 2007 5:25:58 GMT -5
Disclaimer: All the characters mentioned are the property of their respective owners at LFL. No money is being made from this fic and it is intended purely for the enjoyment of those in a galaxy far far away. Please don't sue me, I will cry 
Authors Note: This fic is rated PG. Mezhan Kwaad/Vua Rapuung. Oneshot.
Her Secret Shame.
The cool air around the dank succession pools caused her shapers headdress, a nest of serpentine tendrils, to curl and uncurl almost rhythmically. Only here in the darkest corners of the Damutek, could she find peace.
Giving strict instruction to her adepts and initiates, she had asked that on one follow here here, nor visit the pools until her return. She would not be disturbed.
For now she was content to listen to the soothing sounds of the cavernous area, as the nutrient filled water filtered through it.
It was in rare moments such as this that she could reflect on the days past. However, no matter how hard she tried to contemplate the goals she had yet to accomplish as a Master Shaper, only one thing seemed to consume her thoughts.
Not the fact her life’s work had bordered on Heresy, nor the fact that she, herself, was undoubtedly a heretic, no.
Her thoughts centred on one fateful encounter, her secret shame.
The air in the chamber shifted so subtly, that to anyone who was not accustomed to such places, would not have noticed it. Her headdress coiled down towards her scalp, forming tight ringlets of tissue. She was no longer alone.
“ I had feared you would not come.” She spoke out into the darkness, her voice betraying a certain temptation she had hoped to keep hidden.
The atmosphere shifted again and she breathed deep as his scent enveloped her like his hold had that day long since past. Images of their first encounter assaulted her mind. Feverous glances, hands touching, grasping. The sensation of his hot skin against her own. Their kisses, raw temptation and passions spent. How could such a thing be forbidden?
His continued distance from her caused her to wake from her thoughts. He then began to speak.
“ I keep my word,”
His words were unusually cold, inert almost. For a moment she was sure she had heard a deeper sadness too, but this would be unlike any warrior she had known. All that aside, his words had caused a faint pang of emotional pain to run through her. She had delayed meeting with him for fear that their little, arrangement, had been discovered.
He partially closed the gap between them, as if to embrace her as he had that first time, but it was not so. He remained somewhat inert.
For several silent moments, the two regarded each other, taking in the sight of the other as if to preserve the images forever. Her shapers headdress seemed to reach out to the lavishly adorned warrior, beckoning him with their tendrils to close the gap between them completely.
Finally, it was he who broke the silence.
“ This cannot continue Mezhan.”
The tendrils atop her head unfurled suddenly, betraying her surprise and confusion.
The warrior continued,
“ At first I believed that the gods would allow us this small…oversight,” He paused to collect his thoughts, “ But truly, would they? Does Yun-Harla not simply wish to test us?”
The master Shaper had become as agitated as her tendrils. She wanted to tell him, to shout out in defiance, but to do so would be to forfeit her life and all her work.
This simply could not be, they had been allowed this oversight – as he had put it – because the gods did not exist!
He was touching her now, a firm hand on her forearm, his expression seeking some kind of response. No words came, just a cold pain that coursed through her veins like a potent poison. A pain like no other.
She would endure, she had to.
“ It is forbidden Mezhan…” He began, but he was cut off as she tore her arm abruptly from his grasp. Her headdress swaying in its own manifestation of anger.
“ Mezhan Domain Kwaad,” she emphasized and corrected.
Her steely gaze fixed on him. She would not break, not here before him.
“ I believe that you are not granted access to my Damutek without my permission, Vua Rapuung.” She spoke his name with a venomous tone. “ And I certainly did not grant you permission…leave.”
He lingered but for a moment, before turning on his heel and leaving as silently as he had entered.
Mezhan Kwaad felt her headdress knot in pure and bitter anger, how dare he reject her as if she had been nothing?! Would he now tell others of their affair? To do so would end up in certain sacrifice.
All her work, all she had ever worked towards since becoming an initiate, would be lost forever because of one foolish warriors blind devotion to gods that, if they had once existed, had long since abandoned their ‘children’.
Balling her non-shapers hand into a fist she felt the searing pain of her own sharp talons digging into the flesh of her palms. Tendons popped and blood flowed before she came to a final resolution.
No one would find out. And she would see to that herself.
END.
Authors Note: This fic is rated PG. Mezhan Kwaad/Vua Rapuung. Oneshot.
Her Secret Shame.
The cool air around the dank succession pools caused her shapers headdress, a nest of serpentine tendrils, to curl and uncurl almost rhythmically. Only here in the darkest corners of the Damutek, could she find peace.
Giving strict instruction to her adepts and initiates, she had asked that on one follow here here, nor visit the pools until her return. She would not be disturbed.
For now she was content to listen to the soothing sounds of the cavernous area, as the nutrient filled water filtered through it.
It was in rare moments such as this that she could reflect on the days past. However, no matter how hard she tried to contemplate the goals she had yet to accomplish as a Master Shaper, only one thing seemed to consume her thoughts.
Not the fact her life’s work had bordered on Heresy, nor the fact that she, herself, was undoubtedly a heretic, no.
Her thoughts centred on one fateful encounter, her secret shame.
The air in the chamber shifted so subtly, that to anyone who was not accustomed to such places, would not have noticed it. Her headdress coiled down towards her scalp, forming tight ringlets of tissue. She was no longer alone.
“ I had feared you would not come.” She spoke out into the darkness, her voice betraying a certain temptation she had hoped to keep hidden.
The atmosphere shifted again and she breathed deep as his scent enveloped her like his hold had that day long since past. Images of their first encounter assaulted her mind. Feverous glances, hands touching, grasping. The sensation of his hot skin against her own. Their kisses, raw temptation and passions spent. How could such a thing be forbidden?
His continued distance from her caused her to wake from her thoughts. He then began to speak.
“ I keep my word,”
His words were unusually cold, inert almost. For a moment she was sure she had heard a deeper sadness too, but this would be unlike any warrior she had known. All that aside, his words had caused a faint pang of emotional pain to run through her. She had delayed meeting with him for fear that their little, arrangement, had been discovered.
He partially closed the gap between them, as if to embrace her as he had that first time, but it was not so. He remained somewhat inert.
For several silent moments, the two regarded each other, taking in the sight of the other as if to preserve the images forever. Her shapers headdress seemed to reach out to the lavishly adorned warrior, beckoning him with their tendrils to close the gap between them completely.
Finally, it was he who broke the silence.
“ This cannot continue Mezhan.”
The tendrils atop her head unfurled suddenly, betraying her surprise and confusion.
The warrior continued,
“ At first I believed that the gods would allow us this small…oversight,” He paused to collect his thoughts, “ But truly, would they? Does Yun-Harla not simply wish to test us?”
The master Shaper had become as agitated as her tendrils. She wanted to tell him, to shout out in defiance, but to do so would be to forfeit her life and all her work.
This simply could not be, they had been allowed this oversight – as he had put it – because the gods did not exist!
He was touching her now, a firm hand on her forearm, his expression seeking some kind of response. No words came, just a cold pain that coursed through her veins like a potent poison. A pain like no other.
She would endure, she had to.
“ It is forbidden Mezhan…” He began, but he was cut off as she tore her arm abruptly from his grasp. Her headdress swaying in its own manifestation of anger.
“ Mezhan Domain Kwaad,” she emphasized and corrected.
Her steely gaze fixed on him. She would not break, not here before him.
“ I believe that you are not granted access to my Damutek without my permission, Vua Rapuung.” She spoke his name with a venomous tone. “ And I certainly did not grant you permission…leave.”
He lingered but for a moment, before turning on his heel and leaving as silently as he had entered.
Mezhan Kwaad felt her headdress knot in pure and bitter anger, how dare he reject her as if she had been nothing?! Would he now tell others of their affair? To do so would end up in certain sacrifice.
All her work, all she had ever worked towards since becoming an initiate, would be lost forever because of one foolish warriors blind devotion to gods that, if they had once existed, had long since abandoned their ‘children’.
Balling her non-shapers hand into a fist she felt the searing pain of her own sharp talons digging into the flesh of her palms. Tendons popped and blood flowed before she came to a final resolution.
No one would find out. And she would see to that herself.
END.
