tamingthemuse | Fic: Storytellers, Original Fic, Prompt #11

Ok, a little bit of self-indulgence for the

tamingthemuse challenge of "Orion".

Title: Storytellers
Pairing: None
Prompt: #11 - Orion
Fandom: Original Fic
Rating: General/Teen
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Summary: Every night, she runs to the wilderness to meet her love.

I lie still in my bed, cuddled up against the steady moving chest of my husband. I love the feel of him like this, after we've made love. He is warm and compliant. He lets me snuggle close despite the warmth of the night. I comb my fingers through the thick hair of his chest, enjoying the quiet moment.

Slowly, his breath evens out and his heartbeat slows and I know that he is drifting off, letting sleep claim him for the night. I wait until I think he is truly in the land of dreams before I try to slip from his grasp. His arm tightens, holding me close, so I stretch and lean up to kiss his cheek before extricating myself from his embrace.

"Leaving to meet your lover?" he asks as I stand by the edge of the bed.

"Yes," I giggle as I kneel on the soft covers, leaning over to kiss him again.

"Tell her I said hello," he says teasingly as he rolls over, covering himself with the warm blankets up to his head. "And be home before dawn this time, please."

"Yes, my love," I reply with a smile as I reach for a soft white linen chemise. It is loose and flowing, perfect for the warm, late summer weather. Still, the fabric rubs against my sensitive skin, reminding me of the passion we'd just shared. Some areas are sore, rubbed raw by the scruff of my husband's unshaven jaw, others are pleasantly tingling from his ministrations. The reminiscing of the love we shared causes me to smile as I slip from our room through the window.

As I head across the stone ledge, I remember the first time my husband scaled this wall for me. He had nearly fallen to his death and I had teased him mercilessly, informing him that I had done the same every night since I was twelve to meet my dearest in the wilderness. He's never lived it down.

I race to the hill where I know she awaits. My face breaks into a wide smile when I see her standing, her face turned toward the soft night breeze. She's draped in red satin that flows over her curves and ripples like waves in the most crystal pond. Her hair is loose and flows around her as if it has a life of its own.

She hears me approach and as she turns to me, she calls my name. The sound of it is so sweet, my heart swells with anticipation. When I reach her, she pulls me into her arms and spins me around, the sound of her laughter like bells and sweet birds.

"So," she teases me, "I was able to pull you away from husband tonight after all. You still smell of sweat and love."

I can't help but laugh in return. "And I see I was able to pull you away from your ink and parchment tonight as well. You still smell of...ink and parchment."

She giggles and I duck my head, embarrassed that I'm not as quick witted as she. She pets my hair, cooing to me even as she suppresses her laughter. "Fret not, little one. The night is young and I have many stories to tell."

We settle onto the soft grass, arranging ourselves so my head is pillowed in her lap. I look up at her and she smiles at me, the light of the fingernail moon illuminating her face and making her look otherworldly.

"Tonight," she begins, "We will learn about Orion and how he became a part of the night sky."

She tells me the tale of a mortal hunter who captured the heart of an immortal goddess as she weaves me a crown of daisies that she places on my head. She talks of love and jealousy, as Apollo tricks his sister Artemis into shooting her love with an arrow. When she tells me of the sorrow that filled Artemis at the death of her love, I feel a single tear slid down my face.

"Don't cry," she whispers as she wipes my cheek with her soft fingertips. "When she learned of the truth, she snatched him from the depths of the sea and made him immortal. Artemis then placed him in the vault of the heavens, where he could continue to follow his favorite pursuits among the stars. The constellation Sirius, a dog, hunts with him, and he is forever at peace. There he is, hunting among the stars."

She points and my eyes follow the path of her finger. I see the hunter, prowling the sky and I smile, knowing that Orion and Artemis will always have their love in the stars.

Throughout the night, she tells me stories, awaking feelings of love and fear and passion inside me. Her words stir me and make me long to tell others of the tales she weaves.

My eyes drift up the skies. "Oh no," I groan. "The rosy fingers of Eos stretch across the sky. I promised my husband I'd be back by dawn."

"Then run as the wind and you'll be at his side in no time." She stands, graceful and fluid, before reaching down to lift me from the ground. My chemise clings to me, heavy with dew, and she brushes the hair from my face without dislodging my crown.

She kisses me then. It is a sound kiss, her soft lips brushing mine. But it is not sexual, filled with lust and passion. It is full of love, chaste and pure. It warms me through, all the way to my toes.

"Hurry," she urges, "Before sleep untangles its fingers from his hair." She pushes me toward my home, the castle that looms before me and laughs as I run, racing the morning light to my bed.

I quickly scale the wall and quietly slip into my room. My husband still sleeps, tangled in the blankets I left him under. I watch him as he dreams peacefully. My heart is filled with love for him, for his patience in indulging me in my nightly rendezvous, for his understanding in my need to meet with her every night.

I slip under the sheets, trying not to disturb the man I love. I think I've succeeded until he shifts, pulling me into his arms and whispering into my hair.

"Dawn is kissing the sky and yet you are just now slipping into our bed?"

I giggle into the sleep-warmed skin. "Stanzie told me stories of love and desire tonight. Of Orion and Artemis and Apollo. I will tell you, if you desire."

"I desire a few more hours of sleep, my love."

He wraps me in his strong arms, rubbing his stubbled face against my hair before pulling away slightly. He reaches up and I look at him questioningly.

"Your crown, my Queen?"

I look at the ring of daisies in his hand and laugh. To her, I am a queen. I am The Queen.

I pluck the flowers from his hand and place it on my nightstand along with the other treasures my muse has given me. Snuggling back into the arms of my husband, I think back of my love, my muse.

She tells me stories at night, weaving tales in my mind that I treasure and adore.

And then I give them to you.

~~~~The End~~~~