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melek_taus) wrote2017-04-07 11:38 am
melek_taus) wrote2017-04-07 11:38 am
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writers_muses 140.3 Butterflies
"The flesh of the Earth, all worn away, thin.
The seconds stone cold in a moment gone dim.
A plunge into Darkness and Vanity’s grasp
Where faces haunt mirrors trapped in by the past." -' Butterflies' by the Eden House
(Events occurring after this thread)
Now attired properly as a royal lady of the Unseelie Court, Melek Taus watched Amarante slip through a doorway within the hall of mirrors. The black pearls and diamonds on her draped gown wrapped her form, put into place with articulate hands and attention to detail. She was, no longer a doll made up into something she was not to be broken from her crysalis, transformed once agian into a dark butterfly.
Even at the last she managed to give him a coquettish glance, her face still flushed, her body still taut, nipples erect. By her scent, he knew she had not been unaffected by what had passsed between them.
To his mind, Amarante was talented, but there were just some things that even the best actors and actresses could not feign. He was uncertain that he would see her this night as he bade her to do. The Grigori did not care. She had alerted him to the trap of the Seelie and their infinite plots woven in the pretense of ultimate good that far too many had been taken in by over many millennia.
He gave no indication that he knew that he and Amarante had been accutely observed not only by Faelyn, Jocelyn and her consort, but by their enemies. He straightened his garments once more, and looked unpreterbed as he reached the door. He would stay away from the royal family for a time.
So the Seelie and their conspirators meant to entrap him and take the rest, he mused. They would have to be far more duplicitous than they had been in the past. In spite of Seelie attempts at deception, the message that Amarante had passed to him through each touch, each gaze, each kiss and sigh had been received. Hers was a singular talent in that regard that few, human or Fae possesed.
Now they would play out the larger game.
Muse Melek Taus / The Peacock Angel
Fandom: Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 362
Crossposted towriters_muses
The seconds stone cold in a moment gone dim.
A plunge into Darkness and Vanity’s grasp
Where faces haunt mirrors trapped in by the past." -' Butterflies' by the Eden House
(Events occurring after this thread)
Now attired properly as a royal lady of the Unseelie Court, Melek Taus watched Amarante slip through a doorway within the hall of mirrors. The black pearls and diamonds on her draped gown wrapped her form, put into place with articulate hands and attention to detail. She was, no longer a doll made up into something she was not to be broken from her crysalis, transformed once agian into a dark butterfly.
Even at the last she managed to give him a coquettish glance, her face still flushed, her body still taut, nipples erect. By her scent, he knew she had not been unaffected by what had passsed between them.
To his mind, Amarante was talented, but there were just some things that even the best actors and actresses could not feign. He was uncertain that he would see her this night as he bade her to do. The Grigori did not care. She had alerted him to the trap of the Seelie and their infinite plots woven in the pretense of ultimate good that far too many had been taken in by over many millennia.
He gave no indication that he knew that he and Amarante had been accutely observed not only by Faelyn, Jocelyn and her consort, but by their enemies. He straightened his garments once more, and looked unpreterbed as he reached the door. He would stay away from the royal family for a time.
So the Seelie and their conspirators meant to entrap him and take the rest, he mused. They would have to be far more duplicitous than they had been in the past. In spite of Seelie attempts at deception, the message that Amarante had passed to him through each touch, each gaze, each kiss and sigh had been received. Hers was a singular talent in that regard that few, human or Fae possesed.
Now they would play out the larger game.
Muse Melek Taus / The Peacock Angel
Fandom: Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 362
Crossposted to
writers_muses