writers_muses 140.3 Butterflies

[melek_taus]

"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 to writers_muses

Comments

[melek_taus]

Her question caused his lips to curve into a slight smile. Her words were so simple, so endearing. It was so incredibly sincere and held all the shy beauty that he had known and appreciated her for all of the years that he had watched her.

Noticing Amarante's empty snifter, Melek he rose to get the bottle of brandy in order to refill it for her. Even as he moved toward her, the back of his neck prickled and he felt a stirring in his groin, not at all unpleasantly. "Of course," he said simply, hoping that his answer would set her mind at ease a little. He took the snifter from her hand and refilled it with the rich, amber liquid. When he returned it to her, his fingertip brushed the back of her hand. "And since we have spent the better part of this evening touching and learning each other, I see no reason for us not to continue."

Melek's eye's did not leave hers as he refilled his own glass with brandy this time, the only sound was the soft rustle of the silken garments of his homeland that he wore. He raised his glass in deference to her, the rim of it touching the rim of her snifter. "Where would you like to start? he asked, his eyes darker green now in the firelight.

Melek's question was also simple. He hoped, however, that the directness of it would not frighten her. He had to admit he was intrigued and had hoped that what had occurred in the mirrored room earlier was just a beginning. Here, however, they were free of prying eyes, there was no act, no pretense.

At least, he thought, there wasn't any for his part. Melek wanted this; he wanted her but, he resolved to himself, it would be on her terms and by her free will what came next.

[sunandshadows]

Where would she like to start? Mara's mind went blank. To cover her sudden hesitation the woman took one more drink of brandy (for courage? Perhaps) and then rose up from the chair she had been sitting in. Turning away, she set down the brandy goblet as she took a deep breath.

"First of all, monsieur" She was facing him now, her cloak sliding off her shoulders to be draped in the chair she'd just abandoned. He was tall, he was always so tall! And his kurta looked black, for all that she knew it was the deepest, richest of blues. The deep copper and gold embroidery at the collar, down the center of it and on his arms and cuffs simply accented the darkness of the material. The hem too, had the same wide embroidery, as did the cuffs of his loose white pants. There were buttons down the front of him, gold with black pearls. And she knew without even thinking of it that each one was identical, each and every large pearl would be perfect. They made a strange pair, he with his dark beauty, his ornament and adornment. His masculinity and his power. And she, barefooted with her hair loose, and dressed in simple, unadorned white.

"First of all Monsieur" Because propriety. After all, for all her fae blood, she was still French. "What would you have me call you? There are lines that, even here, should not be crossed unless asked, and I would know now what you would allow for me."

Melek would be the easiest he told her. Then he gave her other names he had been known by over the ages, throughout the lands of man and he ended with the name Shaitan "Only I do not like that one." An immediate thought flashed through her mind - never, ever would she even think of that last name for him. Not in jest, not in anger. And then he posed a question for her, asking her the same.

"What would you like me to call you? Mara? Or Meruti, as the kings of the ancient East would refer to their favourite and most trusted? You are to me what your lady Faelyn refers to her friend Hsu, her Anam Cara; for if indeed one of the fallen may choose such a distinction, that would fall at your feet my dear."

For a moment Amarante stood silent, in shock. Not just at the word he chose, but at the rest of the words the Grigori spoke as well. The sheer immensity of the honor and age of time his words conveyed had her stunned. Favourite? Anam Cara? Most trusted? The words he spoke whirled about her mind in unchecked chaos as she blinked at him, then blinked again.

"I" she started, then coughed, and tried again. "To say I am overwhelmed by your words would be an understatement, Melek. I could not hide such a feeling within me if I tried. And I've no answer for you, other than this: I am Amarante, Mara to those close to me. There are very few who are closer still, and if you so choose to call me Meruti - or any other name as you wish - then I shall accept it with all my being. Accepting both the responsibility, and the rewards that come with it."

"And then, as we are using your language and not my own - is there a name other then Melek that you would have me call you? Or, perhaps you can teach me your language and we can find your name together?" She flashed a quick smile.

"May I?" The faeling lifted up her hands, open palmed toward the fallen one. At his nod, she lifted them further, hesitated once more and then began to gently stroke his head, just over his ears. Light, soothing touches with her fingers open to feel his hair as she glided through the strands. "So soft!" Mara's eyes met Melek's for a moment before she continued her exploration. From his hair, down his forehead she traced. Soothing back his eyebrows, Mara's smile grew. Sliding over his cheekbones and a single finger stroking the length of his nose, she caught his eyes and began to giggle, but the giggle faded when Amarante's forefinger stroked the angel's upper lip. So light - so gentle, she caressed first the top from one edge to the other, and then the bottom.

From his lower lip, the faeling spread her fingers wide and trailed a path down Melek's chin, and further down his neck to where it met his jeweled, embroidered collar. "I think that this needs to come off before I can explore further" she whispered up at him.

[melek_taus]

He had not intended is statement of the facts to shock or confuse her. He was merely speaking with the honesty that the two of them had determined to do from the beginning of their encounter. He had given her the name 'Meruti', and was satisfied with the knowledge that no other woman; human, Fae or otherwise had ever been referred to as that by him.

When she asked him to teach her his language he nodded. There was not much difference between SIdhe, High Elvish or the speech of Angels. He was flattered by her desire to learn and knew that it would indeed be an asset against prying eyes and ears that seemed to be to ready to eavesdrop .

When she asked permission to touch him, He only gave a slight nod to his approval. Gentle, delicate hands touched his face, fingers perceiving with animal or plant-like sensitivity over his ears, through his hair and then over his nose before she gave a a soft giggle. She was enjoying this, enjoying him as few others had ever been allowed to. Her short burst of merriment made him smile.

When at last her fingers paused over his lips, he felt an almost overwhelming urge to kiss her as soundly and as passionately as they had done in the mirrored room earlier that evening.

"I think this needs to come off before I can explore further," she said. Her eyes were dark and the Fallen One could feel an intense stirring throughout his body. Taking a slight step back away from her to avoid bumping her or entangling them both in his garment, he complied with her request. He stood bare chested, clad only in the loose silk drawstring pants that had been mostly covered by his kurta.

He let it fall to the floor in a puddle of deep blue, gold and bronze silk at their feet. He ached, wanted to reach out and pull her to him in order to remove all doubt of his intent, but was determined to wait until the Faeling resumed her exploration.

[sunandshadows]

Sucking in her breath, Mara didn't realize she was staring until her eyes trailed over his form and her eyes drifted upward to meet his. Coloring immediately, she coughed to cover an embarrassed laugh, and failed. Swooping down, the faeling lifted Melek's kurta, tossing it over to cover her cape in her chair. Then she began where she had left off. His neck, down his chest her fingers trailed. Yes, she traced down over his nipples, but she didn't tease or fixate on them. That was not to say that the faeling was very alert for any movement Melek made, or any noise of his, no matter how quiet. His chest, for all that he had more a runner's physique, had bands of muscles going down that she had never seen before.

Down to the drawstring on his pants her hands wandered. And then it was time for the shoulders and arms, the inside of his elbow, down to his wrists and palms, to the man's very fingers and fingernails. But she didn't suck on his fingers, didn't make any obvious seductive comparison with his finger in her mouth. No, the faeling simply rubbed the palms of his hands, one at a time, against her cheek as Mara lifted her head, closing her eyes and smiling. Trailing a single finger around his body, she then approached the back of the Grigori just as she had his front.

Hmm, that solved one question that she never would have had the courage to ask. He had wings. Wings! Not angelic wings either, no feathers here. They were similar to a bat's wing, but... no. Oh! They were dragon wings! Her in-drawn breath was the only indication of Mara's sudden shock. And then she was feeling them, where the wings met the bones nearly at the spine, rubbing her face against the strong membrane that webbed between his phalanges, oohing and ahh'ing in wonder and delight.

"Oh Melek, this - oh, you are magnificent!" How had she never known this about him? Taking a chance, Amarante stepped in close and wrapped her hands under his wings, around his waist. Pressing herself to his back, Mara laid her face against the skin over his spine and hugged him, held him him close.

As she moved about him once more, her eyes caught sight of one of his windows where the moon was shining through the branches of one of the old olive trees. Olive? Where had she heard something about olives? Oh, were they on that side of the palais? Facing the fallen one, Mara reached up her hands and caressed his cheeks with her fingers, then raised herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "Thank you" she whispered, her mouth less than an inch from his own.

And then before they could go further, she was leaning against Melek once more, hugging him again and holding him close. Accepting him, all that he was. All that she knew and that he had trusted to show her.

And when she pulled away again, there was a twinkle in the faeling's eyes. "You know" And this time she was deliberately drawing lazy circles on his chest with a fingernail. "I heard a snitch of conversation, not more than a few sentences, really. But it had something to do with an old, overgrown garden filled with trees, including olive trees. How would you like to..." And she told him her sudden, impulsive idea, her eyes sparkling with faery mischief.

She ended it with "And if there are no spies, well - it will still be fun, and when was the last time you played games of chance simply to play them? The stakes are enough to intrigue you I hope? Vien, Melek, mon amie, when was the last time you gamed for chance? Smiled, and laughed and played? When was the last time you had fun, Melek? Let tonight be the first in a very long line of fun moments for us two."

[melek_taus]

To the Peacock Angel, the slow, curiosity of Amarante was in itself a seduction. It did not matter to her that he was called a myriad of other names- some of them to make him more fearsome, and to scare still others into submission rather than to inquire with respect. This woman, this Fae-Halfling he had watched grow up as a child into who she was now, never showed him anything but respect. Of course, there had been some trepidation in her younger days.

Now all of that was lost as each of her fingers trailed over his flesh. It was a delicious sensation to be sure and he reveled in the indulgence of it. When at last she worked her way around his body, he closed his eyes. 'She will see you for what you truly are,' he thought to himself. She would either accept him or run away. Not even Jocelyn had seen his wings, though he knew that Faelyn had been made aware of them many centuries before.
.
Amarante's gasp made him fear the worst. Rather than hearing her cry out in disgust, she instead she stroked over his wings, exploring in wonder and effort to truly understand - almost reverently. How would she feel, he wondered, if he were to shift shape into the Beast, the Dragon Itself that he was fully capable of becoming? Somehow as she again pressed her cheeks against his wings he knew that she would not mind.

She thanked him and kissed him instead. He allowed himself a smile. He resolved that he would call her 'Meruti' - it would be his private name for her. For in those few moments, she had become his favorite as no other before her had been.

Amarante pulled him into her game and he willingly followed. "It has been many years since I have played a game that I was not certain that I would win," Melek said, intrigued. "I accept. "

He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead, relishing the way that her eyes sparkled with fun in the dim light of his chambers. He could have seen by her eyes if there was no other light, he was certain.

"And what stakes shall we play for, my dear?" he grinned. "Lead the way, Meruti."

[sunandshadows]

A few minutes later, had anyone been hidden in the old, deliberately overgrown garden; they would have heard soft feminine laughter and seen Amarante race barefooted in through a rust-latched gate. Her silk nightgown held up above her knees to allow her to run easier, the faeling darted this way and that as she spun and danced, then carefully climbed up one of the ornamental, flowering tree's just to hide within it's scent-laden branches.

Carefully, she watched the gate while concentrating on slowing her breathing. And finally, one moment she was there, the next moment she had disappeared from sight. Just another branch, twisted over the first, with flowers blooming on it's slender branches; the flowers silver in the moon's bright light. And then she waited, and watched until the gate creaked open once more and a man's form filled the area between gateposts.

Find me, she had told the Grigori. Find me and be crowned the winner this night, and you may choose any reward you desire; any reward I will gladly offer and give until the sun rises once more. But if you cannot find me within an hour's time, I shall win and be crowned victor, and my wishes you will carry out for me until dawn's light forces us back to the world of the day.

[melek_taus]

He allowed her several moments to escape. He would not cheat as he so easily could have. He did not use any special power as an advantage that he might have over her. For his part, the Fallen One, the Peacock Angel let her do as she saw fit. The game, their game, was afoot and he reveled in letting himself be caught up in it.

A soft rustle and it was gone once again. The overgrown brambles and overgrowth was the perfect hiding place for the Forest Fae. If allowed an hour, of course he had no fear that he would find her, but what, he wondered, would he ask for as his reward? With what had occurred earlier this night, taking her to his bed, admittedly, had crossed his mind. It was better however, he thought, to let things unfold naturally between them. Although he had to admit, this game was intoxicating on its own.

The scent of night blooming jasmine and mimosa filled the air, even the pungent scent of Persian pink lotus wafted from a pool that was nearly concealed by the overgrown foliage. He pushed a branch aside, thinking he had seen her, but no. It was the thin trunk of a willow tree, it's leaves shining in the moonlight as her hair did,.

If he lost, he thought to himself, he would not mind too terribly. She could name her price and again, given what had they had experienced earlier, he would most likely grant it without a thought.

"You are skilled at this, Meruti," he murmured, sensing that she was probably close by. "You have learned your lessons well, not only from me, I think, but from others as well. "

[sunandshadows]

From beneath lowered lids, light blue eyes gleamed in satisfaction as she overheard the Fallen One's quiet comments. So close, yet so far. Less than six steps forward, and two to the right and he would be beneath her tree and close enough for her to reach down and ruffle his hair with her fingers.

And it was true what he said, Amarante acknowledged to herself. Her time with the deva's, and her time with certain shape-shifters in her past had honed her playful art into something more lifelike and real, a true camouflage. It was enough to fool the eyes of men, as well as their sense of hearing and smell. But oh, if they were to touch her the deception would fall away. For after all she was only disguised. No nymph was she to have the power to truly turn herself to fern or forest.

He was moving away, further from the reflective pool in the middle of the garden and closer to some of the flowering fruit trees on the far side. As soon as he was out of sight, she counted to five then simply rolled off the branch and fell to the ground, her bare feet hitting the soft grass almost silently. Over moss she crept, daring to creep ever closer to the Grigori's location, biting her lower lip to keep from making a sound.

If Melek heard a giggle behind him and a louder splash of something thrown into the water of the reflective pool, he would be able to return to see the ripples that a small stone made, thrown by a faeling hand. Still, there would be no obvious sign of her in the moonlight.

But where there were several bushes of white lilies shining in the starry night, one bush seemed to have a few more graceful stems and glowing blooms than before. And from her hiding place, kneeling among the flowers, the faeling watched for Melek's return.

[melek_taus]

Even among the sharp, rhythmic shrieks of frogs that sat alongside the water's edge of the reflecting pool, the Peacock Angel heard Amarante's soft giggle, a splash could have been a large bullfrog but he suspected it part of her game.

Even the long grass in need of trimming and the sweet scented moss and loam did not hide her entirely. He caught sight of a small glitter in the moonlight. Was it an animal lying in wait or more likely the eye of the one he was hunting for? Even as an demon, one accustomed to the creatures of the Dark both from the Underworld and of the Fae, he couldn't be entirely sure.

To test his theory, he turned away from the tiny sliver of light that had caught his attention to take a couple of steps toward a Persian silk tree, laden with feathery pink flowers that were redolent with perfume. Just as he did so, and if he was right, she would move once again. If not, he would continue to hunt for her.

Melek wanted to win the game, but rather than claim the prize from her unwillingly, he wanted, hoped that she would come to him willingly, wager or no. He indulged himself in the thought of her wanting him, the tenderness that had passed between him when she touched his wings, and as he was about to lose himself in his reverie, he heard and sensed movement among the sweet scent of night blooming lillies.

[sunandshadows]

Once she moved the spell was broken, and in a flash her disguise gone. In Mara's hands were a dozen - no more - lilly blossoms that she'd begun weaving to a turquoise jade vine, already adorned with night-blooming Cereus, Juliet roses, Moonflowers and Saffron Crocus. With a whisper of silk she rose to her feet and snuck slowly up onr the fallen angel. Still, he was ahead of her, Melek hadn't turned his head around yet. And the tree he was under had just the right florets to finish the flower coronet that her fingers were already braiding together.

The grass was soft under the faeling's feet. Here, even in the overgrown and somewhat isolated garden of the palais, though all manner of plantlife was running wild, it had magical, ethereal beauty that was only enhanced by moonlight and shadows. The wild rose bushes, entwined with each other, created a hedge that was alive with heady scent and needle-sharp barbs. These she avoided for now; what she held in her hands - though smaller and more delicate - were far more rare and exquisite.

Her heart was racing, every sense alive and alert. The moon, the warmth of the night; the shadows and silver light; the garden secrets and the man she stalked as she crept on bare feet behind him. Ah, he was turning! Duck or hide? Quick what to do?

Mara chose to laugh and raise her hands up, crowning the Grigori with a living coronet of beautiful flowers.

"Did I not promise to crown you this night, Melek?"

[melek_taus]

The flowers were heavy with the scent of their own inherrent perfume and the dusky scent of the loam of the long untended garden floor.

The Lord of the Grigori's strong hands to pull Amarante to himself. If he had thought about it, he would have had to admit that his arms had ached to encircle the familiar curves and warmth of her body. He felt the rise and fall of breath filling her lungs then releasing once again. He could feel the pounding of her pulse as she rested the crown upon his head, a singular mark of favor from her to him.

"You did indeed," he smiled down at her, "But your flowers are not the only gift this night."

He picked her up in his arms. He could have lain her down in a bed of lillies and taken her there, but somehow, he knew that there were still likely prying eyes. The Fae were never shy about intimate things between themselves, but somehow this was different. For Amarante's entire life he had done what Watchers do - he had watched and been involved in her upbringing. Now a child no longer, he would not hurry what would come next between them.

[sunandshadows]

"No, they are not." Did he win? Did she? Both, she decided to herself; they both won. Fingers reached up, adjusted the crown on Melek's head from where it had been tilting to the side; and as her arm lowered the faeling rested her fingers against the side of his cheek for a moment before she dropped it to her side.

Melek wasn't over-powerful looking; he was more lean with long runner's muscles and yet he held her like she'd been holding the lilies in her hand - easily. "No" Mara agreed with him. "Not the only. And not the first, but most certainly not the last." The tips of her bare toes swept over a patch of high, night-blooming flowers and the faeling impulsively stretched out one foot to try and touch a single petal as the fallen angel carried her back through the garden. Mara giggled, then giggled harder at the look Melek gave her, and flashed him a bright smile.

His crown was slipping again, it gave the Grigori a rakish look, and in retrospect the faeling decided that she liked him that way. It skewed his cultured, suave look and gave him an aura of something a little less civilized and more wild; for all that those were flowers and vines upon his brow.

The gate was left open, the walk back filled attempts at conversation inter-spaced with laughter and lighthearted retorts until once more they were in Melek's room, only steps from where they'd started. And only a few more steps to his bed.