Seducing Death

Death comes in many forms. It comes swiftly, on wings of combat, a massacre of slaughtered innocents. It comes like a thunderous cry, an echo of a war.

Death comes slowly, filled with the sufferings of an epidemic. It is the resolution of the angered, the jealous. It is the yearning of broken lovers and the relief of the hopeless. Death has many forms, many faces. Its purpose is unchanged. But death is not evil, nor does it hold vice of prejudices and hatred. Death has no injustice. It doesn't care about fair play or pity. Death is merciless. Death is deliverance. Death is unchanging, faithful and ever-present. It is why it brings me comfort. In a universe of change and uncertainty, it is the only constant. Death was a part of human life, one which cannot be avoided.

Still, the humans tried to flee from it. The God of Death is a creature that harbored immense terror and hatred in the hearts of those he snatched. Men feared death, and cursed the deliverer in response.

The mortals were not the only ones guilty of such ill-placed sentiment. The Gods viewed his work as unsavory. Thanatos did not work by his own power. His job was not to judge, nor to endorse or persuade. The God of Death was simply the force that followed Destiny; therefore, a slave to it. Thanatos wasn't a true God, the Olympians would snide. He had no power of his own, his only purpose was to serve the ordained orders of the Fates.

I had observed him since I was young in my Lord-Father's realm. Death was a familiarity to me in the most intimate of ways. I had been born into this kingdom of fatality. I did not view death as some form of grievance. It was simply another realm of existence of which mortals must spend their eternal souls. The rot and decay to be expected only followed those who lived unjust lives. I had spent my childhood fascinated by my Lord-Father's work. Of all the brothers, Lord-Father Hades seemed to work the hardest, constantly tempering the souls of the dead and judging their lives. Evaluating each mortal soul that entered his dominion was a hard task, one that to this day I cannot say I fully comprehend. I knew it was not my place to be amongst the judges.

Still, my intimacy with Death lead me to another purpose. Lord Thanatos was a gaunt figure of strength and solemnity. His tall figure was a pillar of unyielding merciless force. Though his expression rarely suggested anything but severity, his icy blue eyes held a creeping of life that obsessed me. As a child, I would watch him work, ignoring his feeble attempts to dissuade me. Lord Thanatos was unflinching in his missons. Though he had the scorn of the Gods, he still perused his job with resolved earnest. Though others would assume him cruel, Lord Thanatos' methods were meticulously precise and necessary, but never with ill-intent. Lord Thanatos was above holding grudges against the mortals, and expressed no unhinged hatred or desire to watch them suffer. It was simply his task, a task he did exceedingly well.

His Lordship rarely spoke words to me and his hard lips rarely twitched from his stern pinched expression. I knew he was at least vaguely curious as to why I chose to follow his courses. After a while, he ignored my presence. No longer did he even blink at my appearance just at the back of his billowing black robes. I would watch him work with fascination, watch him fly down upon the mortals and reap the humans. Some of them were sick and battered and welcomed his presence, others, young and so full of life, fought him and were dragged from the corporeal world through slaughter and violence. It was as if he were reaping the fields of a crop, pulling the healthy and virile from their plains, as well as cleansing the fields of the dying from their harvest. I was fascinated by his work.

"What is it to live?" I had one time asked him during his harvest.

I had never spoken to him prior, always remaining a silent watcher, a fixated spectator to his workings. He always believed I was merely observing him through my own inquisitiveness; I saw him as a curiosity and I would grow bored with time. I knew he thought such a thing of me, but I never said words to deter such assumptions.

Most of his travels across the mortal plains were done so in silence, and I know my speaking caught him off guard. He had turned to me and for the first time, addressed my person.

His head tilted slightly to the side in curiousness as he thought over my words. His black hair, as dark as the raven feathers sprouting from his back, fell into his angular face.

"Why do humans go about living if they know death is so imminent?" I clarified.

He was silent, carefully thinking over his words before he turned from me, back facing the blood and gristle that sat before him. It was a bloody scene of a man gone mad, murdering his family and then killing himself. The sight didn't bother me.

"It is the way of men."

His voice was deep and cracked, hoarse from lack of use. My Lord Thanatos rarely needed to speak, and rarely did so. Any words he spoke therefore, held some purpose and meaning. I did not understand his answer. I was a Goddess of Lord Hades and Persephone. I was born into death, and did not comprehend that of what it meant to live with the shadow of Death looming overhead. Death was all I knew.

As I grew, my curiosity grew into a burning obsession. Lord Thanatos no longer seemed to be concerned with my presence, and maybe he had even learned to expect it on his journeys. Still, he never spoke, only when I would ask a question, to which he was gracefully answer. He always spoke with few words, and held a reserved politeness in his tone that always left a wall of distance between us.

I never understood the reserve in his tone and behavior in my youth. I did not understand the aversion the other Gods had for this God of Death. His mission was a taxing one, but he showed no sloth. He didn't carry on with silly affairs or cause dramas with the other Gods or mortals. To what means was their contempt? A man of strength and unbiasness was invaluable in the sea of infidelity, jealousy and arrogance that frequently colored the other Gods continences.

"Why do you do this job?" I had asked him. It was such a simple-minded question, so filled with childlike ignorance that I cringe at it now.

But he seemed to take my question as one of curiosity and not one of derision. I meant no mockery in my question, only curiosity in knowing why he went through with a job that he was disdained for. Thanatos gazed at me, his eyes so pale blue they were almost white. He answered me, whether it was to humor my inquisitiveness or some other grand purpose, I did not know.

"Why?" he mirrored. His head tilted again, a small gesture I had learned meant he was either perplexed or curious about something. He then took a breath and stared past me. His eyes felt as if they were drilling through me, and my chest clenched at the icy chill that washed over me.

"Can't you hear the music carried by the wind? Don't you recognize its tune? It is the slow, fading beat of their hearts, calling to me like a summons."

Something gripped me from the inside, a claw that squeezed my heart and throat so that it kept me from breathing.

"I save the dying from their burden of mortality. I devour the bodies of the sick and feeble, and bring relief to the destitute."

He took a step towards me, and the gaze that stared past me seemed glazed.

"Do you know what they cry for, in their last moments of life? In the breath before, the breath where they cursed me, the breath that they spit at me, the babe that cries at the sight of me, all of them. It remains unchanged. The moment before the thread is cut, they call for me. They call to me like a yearning lover to release them from this mortal plain. They all do."

He was silent after his discourse, gazed fixed filmy at me. I could see a zeal that enflamed his eyes, almost manic. The looked paralyzed me. His fervor, having not been seen by me before, spurned on my obsession of him, something he could not have foreseen. If he had known that at that moment with those heated words he had sealed my own fate, he may not have uttered them at all. If he had known that he had kindled the flames of passion in my heart for him, he may have cast me aside the moment he caught me following him.

"You do not understand," he followed his words, falling back into his solemn, rather dead sounding nature. "This is my calling. I do this because I must."

But he had no idea how much I did understand, for I to, had heard the callings.

Perhaps it was because I had trailed after him like a lost lamb following a Sheppard that reared me to this calling. Perhaps it was inevitable for me, being the child of the God of the Underworld. Whatever the reasons, I felt the callings of the sick and dying. Their cries called to me to release them, and Thanatos' claims only further cemented my place at his side.

I was Death. I was born into it, and I would be a deliverer of it.

Death was a faithful lover. He was always there. He would not flee from you, nor could you flee from him. Death is not the pain, but the relief of it, it is freedom. He is imminent and unchanging and a constant. He is an unwavering companion, one I yearned for. I loved him like I loved no man before. I followed in his footsteps of Death not only because of the mournful callings that summoned me, but because it made me closer to him. With each brush of Death I skirted over the mortals, its caress brought warmth through me, for it felt of him. Death's embrace was warm to me, despite how many other's express otherwise, for he was Death, and any touch of him was a comfort to me. I had become an assistant, in a sense. I was a harbinger of quiet, blissful Death. I accompanied him, no longer as an inquisitive observer, but as an assailant. He never questioned my work, never asked for assistance. I was simply a silent partner. As I grew, neither my age nor my purpose changed his opinion of me in his eyes. He still remained reserved and distant, no matter what attempts I made to gain his favor.

He was such a mystery. He shrouded himself in solitude, no doubt the response of centuries being ostracized by the other Olympians. Maybe he had not ever learned how to socialize, had no knowledge on how to act amongst people. Perhaps he was so stunted from contact with others that he remained isolated and alone for all his existence. The thought made my heart ache for him. The powerful God of Death, so desolate and reserved and despised, went about his job with little purpose outside summons.

I ached for him. I had decided then that I would have him for myself. If no one else would see him as what he was, then I would take him willingly into my soul and damn anyone else.

Seduction was never something I was naturally blessed with. Aphrodite's measures of allurement were foreign to me, her tricks and dealings of love and affection were often laced with misguided falsehoods and abrasiveness; things I considered unacceptable for my Lord Thanatos. Courting My Death God would require a level of poise and tact that I did not think Aphrodite would have the patience to teach me in my impatient desire.

Still, I called to him one day, resolve burning in my bosom. Calling for his counsel was not hard, for I was the daughter of the honorable Lord Hades. Even if he was privy to my desires of him, he could not refuse a summons from someone of my stature.

"Princess," his hoarse throat called. His figure was tall before me, shoulders stiff and head straight, no sign of lack of poise or hesitance. His glorious wings were folded neatly into his sides, barely casting a shadow across the marbled stones beneath him. Still, I could sense the curiousness he held for why I had called for him. To me, he had the appearance of a strong animal that was wary of its surroundings, unsure of the happenings around him and with the slightest hint of unease. He had to be handled very carefully, lest he flee.

I stood from my stone perch, the throne offered to me once my position as a Bringer of Death was solidified.

"Lord Thanatos," I walked with confidence towards him, and he stiffened further upon my approach. I circled him once, never taking my eyes from his straight standing figure. His body didn't move while under my scrutinizing gaze, but his eyes followed my movements when I appeared in his vision.

"Do you know why I have summoned you?"

"No, my Lady," he answered honestly. My pulse began to thrum and I felt like a mortal as the beating in my bosom picked up pace.

"We are both of equal standing, My Lord Thanatos. We are not required to use such formalities between Gods as mortals do." I stopped when I was in front of him. "Why do you not call me by my name?"

He peered at me curiously, as if gauging what response he would need to say.

"Gods we may be," he began, pale eyes staring through me. "You are daughter of My Lord Hades."

Even with such formality with my Lord-Father, we both knew such titles were not required or expected between us, even if I was of slightly higher standing, yet Thanatos was a fiercely loyal man, who clung to that which he did; serve the Underworld and its ruler. It was because of this no doubt that he never developed the relationships one would consider close enough to anyone to ever resort to using their names. Or perhaps it was his strange sense of honor and duty to the throne that kept him at arm's length. Which every the case, I had to see that it ended.

"Call me by my name," I demanded of him.

He looked at me silently, his head tilting. I could tell my request confused him, but he obeyed, if with the briefest moment of hesitance.

"…Macaria."

My name, whispered just barely from his thinned, confused lips, brought a strong shiver over me. A draft had suddenly wafted and chilled me. My name sounded enticing on his lips, his voice echoed it throughout the throne room and filled me with much enthusiasm. My cursed heart began thumping wildly at the sound, and my eyes locked with his fiercely. I took a step closer to him, enough to watch him slightly flinch. He did not waver however, did not move a muscle to leave or avoid my attention.

"Say it again," I whisper to him, breath coming in short, excited gasps. My blood was pumping wildly as I stared into his sharp face.

He gazed at me, absorbing all my reactions and finally seemed to connect what was happening.

"Lady Macaria…" he husked out, almost defeated sounding. It was so weak and breathy if I had not been so close to my beloved's face, I would not have heard it. "This isn't right."

His words humored me into smiling. My hands reached up to touch him, and ran down the robes of black that covered his chest. Here I leaned into him, and I could feel his muscles stiffen. Yet he didn't move.

"And what is so wrong about this, My Lord Thanatos? What is wrong of my desire for you?"

"You are the kin of Lord Hades, I am but a Bringer of Death." His words sounded mechanical. I could feel his breath hit my skin. The clothing I had selected were thin. The fabric draped around me in a material both sheer and shimmering. I had hoped that such a garment would gain some of Thanatos' attention, and was slightly disheartened to note that his resolve wasn't as easily shaken.

"What does it matter as to my standings?" I challenged. "If you value such things, if I were to command you to join me in my bed, you could not refuse, yes?"

He paused for a second.

"I could not."

I smiled, knowing his response, tricking him into it, though I did not perceive it in such a way. My hands gently rose up the cloth of his robes, feeling the lean muscles underneath. Thanatos was a God not of physical strength, but of spiritual prowess. He wasn't as muscular as Lord Ares, nor as broad in the shoulders as My-Lord Father. He was a lean man of high stature, face clean-shaven, exposing his square jaw and thin upper lip. I loved the fact that he had no beard to hide his mouth from me. I could stare at his lips for hours, judging his expressions merely by them alone.

My hands continued their journey up to his face, where I stroked one of his cheeks. He was gaunt and the hollows of his cheekbones cast deathly shadows across his face. His nose was sharp and his eyes were fairly sunken, but they glowed in contrast like two gleaming jewels. He was so unusual compared to the other Gods in build, facial structure and nature, but he was beautiful to me. He was a creature worthy of every type of worship and devotion.

He remained impassive, staring at me with lips pulled into a tight expression. His hands fisted at his sides.

"You know not of what you want," Thanatos' voice called out, temporarily breaking my concentration on his figure. My lips thinned.

"I love you," I answered him simply, leaning my body into his. I could feel him stiffen even further at my confession. "And I desire you so strongly. Do not deny me."

Be it from the desire to relieve the sudden arousal in his eyes or for the unflinching honor in him to obey a High Command, Lord Thanatos conceded. He let my lips drink from his, and I tasted the ambrosia that was his essence. I greedily succumbed to the caress of my Death Lover's mouth, who, after coercing, began to kiss me back. The pleasure and victory I felt from him was almost too much to bear and I almost embarrassingly lost myself in the simple touch of our lips. I had just enough cognizance to pull him into my bed chamber before all other thoughts ceased.

Thanatos was a column of strength. His skin was the texture of velvet steel against my hungry lips and I tried to devour him. His skin was as pale as the moon in the night's sky, contrasting so heavily with the ink of his long hair. His pallor glowed in the weak light streaming into the room from the few candles lit. He was pliant and obedient of my commands, still so hesitant and submissive to my order. He easily buckled to my pressure and fell unto the sheets below, and I worshipped his skin as I undressed him. Against my lips I tasted his throat, and his pulse was like a drum to my desire. It's steady drumming quickening with every lick or sharp bite. It worked to create the perfect rhythm of my passion for him. I sat atop his mighty form, kissing down his throat and across his chest, pulling cloth loose to praise the glorious skin hiding underneath. He was so yielding, so willing to let me satisfy myself that I could barely control myself. I dared not look into his eyes, because the look alone would burn me.

"Undress me," I urged him, no longer able to stand the barriers that were keeping me from feeling his hot skin against my own.

Fingers deftly followed the command, unclasping pins and pulling fabric away to reveal my body. I heard his breath increase and finally met his eyes, wanting to see the look in his eyes as he stared at my offered flesh.

The sight was emblazing. Those icy eyes were alit, his mouth was a fine line, jaw clenched in what could only be a self inflicted punishment of self-control. To what means was this control? I was offering myself to him and yet he still remained so unmoving. He refused to make any moves, like a stubborn goat.

I mewled out, hoping to spurn him on, but he remained unflinching, staring into my eyes with a burning look. It heated my blood and I could feel my pulse hot and heavy in my ears.

"Touch me, please," I moan out, grabbing his hands and fitting them to my breasts. There he paused for a second, before the hands obeyed their command. His touch was electrifying and caused my back to arch into him. I rocked against him in response, not surprised by the hardness I felt against the wet center between my legs.

"Why must you do this," his hoarse voice wavered. He sounded weak, as if he was unable to fight back the emotions he was feeling.

"I love you," I answered simply, pressing my lips to his temple and embracing our shared warmth.

"You would have me, then? I must hear it from you. Tell me," he hissed, his hand came out to curve on my hip. It fisted almost painfully as he aggressively yanked my body closer to his. He leaned in so that his snarling face was inches from mine. "Does the creep of Death not repulse you?"

"Let Death come then, my sweet lover," I kissed his cheek and ran my fingers through his hair. The black strands were the texture of silk. "Though our titles are different, both of our aims are the same. We are both envoys of Death, regardless of means in which to achieve it. Death is as much a part of me as it is you."

His eyes stared into mine for an intense, heated minute. In that time, I had forgotten to move. I had forgotten that everything else existed but his eyes as they stared into me, hot and passionate and intense. Then his blessed eyes sealed shut, his face turned from me and rested his forehead against my shoulder. I placed my hand on his back in a comforting manner, soothing down the feathers that had fallen out of place.

This God, this holy being of Death was humbling in front of me; to have known nothing but disdain and scorn. And he was now in my bed, exposed and welcoming. I wanted to suck him in to me, I wanted to pull this God into my soul and selfishly keep him to myself. My Lord Thanatos, how could I express my adoration for you?

"My Dear Thanatos," I cooed as I lifted his head to kiss him. I needed to feel his lips on me again. His touches were strong but soothing. Death's embrace was surrounding me and I felt consumed by him. He was still holding back, and I was frustrated by this. My lips moved hungrily over his, and he returned my passion. "I ache for you," I sat atop him, naked body grinding warmly into his, and breathing heavy.

"I am the bane of men, and yet you seduce me," Thanatos' murmured against my lips.

"Do you refuse me?" I uttered, kissing him harder.

"You know I cannot."

Our mouths brushed in between words, bumping into each other and only separating to hush the utterances across wet lips. I pulled away long enough to answer him, my mouth hovering a hair from his. I could feel his heavy breath on my face.

"But would you have stopped me?" I had to know if he would have come willingly to me had I not ordered it. "Would you have stopped me given the choice?"

There he paused, his erratic breath fanning over my face. His eyes were gleaming. In the pale light, they seemed to glow with such beauty. I was rendered temporarily speechless. And then he answered, his word breathy and fully of fervor.

"No."

I could not control the wave of exhilaration and delight that crashed over me. My lips found his in a kiss that burned. In my passion to have him, I lost patience and lifted my hips. In a fast deliberate movement, I had positioned myself and speared myself onto his flesh. I could feel myself encased in him and the movement brought a groan to my lips. Thanatos had broken the kiss, unprepared for the suddenness of the entry and gasped loudly.

"Macaria…" he uttered. The gravel of my name sent my heat boiling. Oh, the blessed sound of my name on his lips! Surely such a sound could make even the Sirens jealous of its sweetness! I lost myself as I rode atop him, setting for a rhythm for us that filled the room with our pleasure. My Death lover finally broke from his restrain, and his mouth and hands sought out for me, sought for me like a dying man sought for salvation. His wings of ebony enfolded me, like a curtain of feathers. Their satin touch tickled my skin. The sensation was tormenting. The caress was gentle and tingled my skin as he enveloped me, surrounding me completely. My world was shrouded by him, blocking out everything but the two of us and the heat between us.

"Submit to me, Princess."

I could do not but obey my harbinger's order. My God worshipped my flesh as he enveloped me. His passion overtook my thoughts and left me blissfully submissive to his caresses and movements. I soon found myself touching the soft sheets, my Lover hovering me. Death was succumbing to me, was devouring me and feasting on me and it was intoxicating. My vision and thoughts blurred in pleasure. I knew only of his skin, his hot tongue and deep groans.

What river had been broken? What floodgates had failed? What reign of passion was unleashed this night unto me? His fervor overwhelmed me. What manner of hesitance he exhibited before was relinquished and he embraced fully my love and body, returning his own just as strongly. It was a crime that a creature so capable of such emotions had been denied them for so long! What an outrage such a thing be kept bottled up! This must have been my purpose, to welcome Death with such devotion and love, for even he deserves affection and care!

Oh, my sweet heavens, Death was surrounding me and was filing himself inside of me. I could feel his love for me in his touches, I could feel the warmth of his devotion wrap around me and comfort me. Death was so sweet and so faithful. I could always depend on it to be there. Such beautiful comfort it brought me. What love I was gifted with feeling from this previously lonely soldier or The Fates! How harshly he was treated and yet so passionately he lay claim to me. The night wore on with the both of us entangled in each other's embraces, feeding on one another's desire and bringing forth pleasure immeasurable. In that night, I had taken Death as my companion. In that night, Death was my only comfort and devotion. And I swear it, on my birthright as the Daughter of the Lord Hades, that Death had taken a claim on me as well, both as a Bringer to the mortals, and as a Lover.

AN: Just a little something I wrote up on the spur of the moment. Thanatos and Macaria always interested me as a pairing considering how similar they are in their titles. It has quickly become a favorite pairing of mine, and I wish more people were aware of it/shipped it : ( Anyway, if you want, please send a review. Thanks for reading.