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girlchild. This is rather rough, just my immediate response to your request...
Title: "Comrades".
Rating: PG.
Fandom: Greek Mythology.
Pairing: Athena/Nike.
Word count: 402
We are unalike, you and I. One need only look us in the eyes to tell that. Your eyes I know well. They are the color of abalone shells, swirling with sea-colors, coral hues. Mine are stormcloud grey, and it's no surprise I'm the seed of the one who calls the lightning down. You are fair. I am dark. Dove and raven, I've heard them call us sometimes as we sweep in riding the winds of war. You, however, are the wingèd one, not I. Those heartbreak white wings curving upwards from your bared shoulders. When the moonlight is upon your wings, they might be fantastical sculptures of faultless marble, not a feather out of place. Not even the winds of war can stir those feathers, each one a monument. The only wings I have are the small, soft mortal ones of the owl perched on my shoulder. You are not of my people. Your people were vanquished by mine in battle, long ago. Yet you, you alone of all your kind, sided with us. A small girl in tatters with ankles shining beneath the hem of your torn robes, ankles as bright as Thetis's silver feet-- a small girl, yet a great one. Could we have won without you? I do not think so. Without you in your tatters, the Titans would reign still; the Olympians would be in pieces, strewn across the sky in constellations. We call you Nike, a reminder of that old victory and a bringer of new ones. I suspect my father considers you a trophy, nothing more.
I do not think of you as a trophy, no. We are unalike, yet so alike. There is no companion I prefer to you, with your jewel-bright eyes and your grim smile. Stand before me. Let me put my arms around you; let me run my fingers over your wings. How unlike the feathers of my owl yours are. They look like marble, yet they are not marble. They burn like fire. Or is it you who are burning? Ah, do not blush. Do not pull away. Let me rest my lips against your cheek. Let me taste your mouth, taste the flavor of triumph which flowers there along with your tongue. My dearest friend. We are warmaidens, yet there is far more to this world than war.
girlchild. This is rather rough, just my immediate response to your request...Title: "Comrades".
Rating: PG.
Fandom: Greek Mythology.
Pairing: Athena/Nike.
Word count: 402
We are unalike, you and I. One need only look us in the eyes to tell that. Your eyes I know well. They are the color of abalone shells, swirling with sea-colors, coral hues. Mine are stormcloud grey, and it's no surprise I'm the seed of the one who calls the lightning down. You are fair. I am dark. Dove and raven, I've heard them call us sometimes as we sweep in riding the winds of war. You, however, are the wingèd one, not I. Those heartbreak white wings curving upwards from your bared shoulders. When the moonlight is upon your wings, they might be fantastical sculptures of faultless marble, not a feather out of place. Not even the winds of war can stir those feathers, each one a monument. The only wings I have are the small, soft mortal ones of the owl perched on my shoulder. You are not of my people. Your people were vanquished by mine in battle, long ago. Yet you, you alone of all your kind, sided with us. A small girl in tatters with ankles shining beneath the hem of your torn robes, ankles as bright as Thetis's silver feet-- a small girl, yet a great one. Could we have won without you? I do not think so. Without you in your tatters, the Titans would reign still; the Olympians would be in pieces, strewn across the sky in constellations. We call you Nike, a reminder of that old victory and a bringer of new ones. I suspect my father considers you a trophy, nothing more.
I do not think of you as a trophy, no. We are unalike, yet so alike. There is no companion I prefer to you, with your jewel-bright eyes and your grim smile. Stand before me. Let me put my arms around you; let me run my fingers over your wings. How unlike the feathers of my owl yours are. They look like marble, yet they are not marble. They burn like fire. Or is it you who are burning? Ah, do not blush. Do not pull away. Let me rest my lips against your cheek. Let me taste your mouth, taste the flavor of triumph which flowers there along with your tongue. My dearest friend. We are warmaidens, yet there is far more to this world than war.
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(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-19 09:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-20 10:44 am (UTC)i love greek mythology, though, so this was great fun for me! that you loved it was just icing on my chocolate cake! *beams* i'm so glad. and mmmmm, i can't get enough canon. it's the secret ingredient in my cake, you know. *devours*
foxy, at your service, m'lady! *bows*
(no subject)
Date: 2004-04-12 10:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-04-13 01:16 pm (UTC)nice to meet you. *tips hat*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-06 10:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-09 03:53 am (UTC)