Title: Breath of Life

Author: paws-bells

Characters/Pairing: Eros and Psyche

Type: OneShot (Complete)

Genre: Romance

Word Count: 1754

Rating: T (Contains content not suitable for children)

Summary: In another life, in another time, his wings are black, and he is a warrior god. In another life, in another time, she is a clan princess, his human sacrifice. The more things change, the more they stay the same. A retelling of Eros and Psyche, painted with the vivid colors of Japanese mythology.

Chapter Last Revised on: 24/11/16

| Lєт'ѕ мαкє α ηιgнт

Ƴσυ ωση'т яємємвєя

ǀ'ℓℓ вє тнє σηє

Ƴσυ ωση'т ƒσяgєт. |

First.

The first time he kisses her, it is to seal the Pact.

She is his now, the sacrifice offered up by her warrior clan to appease their patron war god, cruel and fierce in both reputation and visage. A toll of blood to be paid to him every turn of the century in return for decisive victories on the battlefield, prosperity, power and longevity of the ruling Nekozawa dynasty. This time, that fatal duty falls upon her shoulders, a royal child of the clan. Unlike the others before her, she has not chosen to go willing into the arms of Death, but attempts to escape her grisly fate are to no avail. His kiss is harsh, hard, and he tastes of steel and something all too disconcertingly preternatural. Taken by force, it has been her first known touch from a man, and she is in shock. But she is also a court princess, and she is also the daughter of a Shogun. The blood of generations upon generations of the strongest, finest generals that Japan has ever seen ran thick in her veins, and she is a warrior at heart too. She fights back tooth and nail, bites and claws at him, and then, just for good measure, she kicks him between the legs (she misses the first time, then has the gall to try again) before hoofing it.

In retaliation, he tracks her down, drags her kicking and screaming back to the Otherworld and binds her to him in holy matrimony.

Her screech of displeasure is most un-Princess-like when he eventually gets around to informing her of her good fortune. He probably has trouble hearing for the next few days because her pitched outrage has been shrill enough to crack glass.

Second.

He is a mystery to her. Her new Lord and Master is seldom around in the day; a busy schedule is only expected for the formidable war god who is also the King of all Tengu. But in the cover of night, he shares her bed. A powerful shadow cloaked in velvety darkness, a vicious sentinel guarding her bedchambers. His mask conceals his features from her – she knows not what he looks like beneath the fearsome visage of the Karasu, even though she has tasted his lips, and experienced his touch, his kiss. The kiss that keeps her alive every night, imbuing her all too ephemeral, mortal form with the potency of his aura and power.

She knows not that the Otherworld is toxic to humans and that he has been preserving her existence with his indomitable will and strength all along. She has been marked for Death…until he took the flitting thread of her life and carefully tethered it to the thick weave of his own.

Third.

A strange, talking cat with two tails approaches her one day. It is a Nekomata, and it looks very amused when she reluctantly identifies herself as the bride of the great Tengu King. Its eerie, slit-pupiled eyes, gold and glowing like twin lanterns on a moonless night, are sardonic as it foretells the fate that it sees so clearly unfolding before its farseeing gaze. Cat demons and death…have always been intricately intertwined, after all.

Human princess, you're but a mere mortal
flame flickering amongst eternal bonfires.
Beware, for gods are selfish, selfish beings…

She mulls over those words for the longest time, unable to deny the ring of truth in them. It troubles her even as she falls asleep to the shadowed sight of her King's back, just a mere touch away. When she wakes in the mornings, he is always long gone, but his scent lingers amongst the bedding and she rubs her cheek drowsily against the cinnamon tinted silk sheets, faintly pondering flitting, sleep-hazed memories of warm lips brushing over her temple…

Fourth.

Her stark white face is misted red with the hot blood of his treacherous vassals, the same members of his court who has plotted and turned against their liege for taking a human wife. To remove the ugly stain on their Lord's honor, they sought to eliminate the mortal weakness that plagues their clan. Perhaps their intentions are noble, however the execution is anything but. They are very close to succeeding in their self-appointed task – her chambers have been breached and while she has been brought down fighting, she is no match for these divinities who are practically created for warfare and warfare alone.

The deed is almost done; struggling valiantly under the weight of her assailants, her neck is already beneath their blades-

Then he arrives with the unforgiving force and fury of a typhoon that has just hit land.

His judgment and retribution is swift and brutal for those who has broken faith with him. His scythe howls like a demon as it mercilessly reaps the lives of the ones who has been about to take hers, and her bedchamber swiftly becomes a bloody killing field. It is the first time she has seen him in battle, and the instinct to look away from the ruthless carnage that he effortlessly wrecks is overwhelming.

But his absolute command keeps her in thrall.

Do NOT avert your eyes. Watch!
See what I do to keep you by my side.

So she does. So she does, and her eyes never leave his form up until the very end. When he kisses her later that night, he tastes of blood and desire.

Nestled within the cage of her chest, her heart starts to beat faster.

Fifth.

The manservant who has been appointed to watch over her in her Lord's absence is both strangely familiar and aggravating at the same time. She thinks that she may have met him before but for the life of her, she cannot remember where. She protests his presence vehemently and resents that she has a guard now, but at the same time her days are not so lonely anymore. He is snarky and sarcastic but he is willing to spar with her and teach her how to use her weapons to even greater effect. It is just as well that he is seriously annoying because she is always very eager to stab him with her naginata or shoot him with her long bow. It does not help that he just laughs at her when she tries. There is something jolting about his laugh too; she has heard it before – she knows that she has! But where?

When she complains indignantly to her godly husband that evening, his silent amusement is palpable in the air, even though he refrains from expressing it in other ways. She scowls at him, but then his hand reaches for her and he whispers for her to close her eyes, and she quiets in exchange for his kisses.

Sixth.

She wants to know what he looks like, and so she craftily devises plots to uncover his face. But she is utterly transparent to him, and her mischief flickers like a tantalizing red ribbon fluttering against the dark of dusk. He is adamant to conceal his features from her despite her numerous requests to see him in his entirety, and then her demands to know why not when he denies her entreaties. Is he scarred? Does he have a long, warty nose? A hideous birthmark? Fishlips? Each suggestion is more ludicrous than the last, and she is obviously no longer wary of him the way she once is when they first met. There is more to him behind that ferocious, warmongering façade that the rest of the world sees, she is beginning to realize that now. And she wants to uncover more. She wants to know. She wants to know. She wants to know the man who is also her god. She wants to know the man who has taken possession of her entirety. That is only fair, is it not?

One night, after several moon cycles of incessant pestering, he blindfolds her, gently takes her hand in his own, and places it on his unmasked facade. She is in awe, a giddy, childlike delight lighting up her face as she slowly explores his features with delicate fingers. She carefully, painstakingly, memorizes the graceful planes and aquiline angles of his face by touch. His nose, his cheeks, his lips. The pads of her fingers linger over the latter the most, soft and aching and unbearably tender.

He seals his mouth over hers and pours his light into her body. She glows so brightly and beautifully for him then, just like the moon does that night.

Seventh.

He takes her out flying sometimes. It is one of her favorite things to do with him. The Otherworld is so breathtakingly beautiful. An endless train of glowing, hovering kitsunebi lights the winding mountain paths that lead up to the Tengu realm at the top of Mount Kurama, the peaks almost close enough to touch the heavens. She is but a mere mortal, but she is probably the closest that any human has ever gotten to the skies and still be alive. It is freezing so high up, but the view makes the discomfort worth it and he keeps her safe and warm. Her heart feels so free when they are up so high, and it is almost like they are the only two beings in this whole world.

She starts to wish for the impossible, that she be allowed to soar by his side forever.

But she is only human. He is not.

Her hands cling to the front of his kimono tightly in a white knuckled grip. Slowly, flying begins to burden her heart more and more – she almost wishes that he has not shared this experience of unparalleled freedom with her. She is freefalling, fast.

Maybe this is why humans are not meant for flight.

Eighth.

The Nekomata visits again. The demon cat shakes its head almost mournfully at the sight of the lost, besotted young woman.

You're dooming yourself, human princess. You
let yourself be purposefully blinded. Open your
eyes and behold the truth which you already
suspect. Maybe it is not too late for you still.

This time, the foreboding words are impossible to shake off. She curls into her husband's side that night, badly shaken. He is asleep. She watches him for the longest time.

Then, her hands reach out, fingers grazing the mask that has always hidden him from her. She slowly pushes the wooden construct up inch by painful inch.

It is the beginning of the end.

::owari::

Questions That I Would Like To Answer Before You Ask:

Eros and Psyche has always been one of my favorite Greek god couples, right alongside Hades and Persephone, and so this humble offering here is my Asiatic fusion/interpretation for this lovely pair. The title 'Breath of Life' is quite literally derived from the actual mythos, a modest nod of recognition to this wondrous tale as the original source of inspiration.

This drabble fic was first uploaded on tumblr, in particularly written for a Bleach-verse crackship that a friend and I were roleplaying on that platform a while ago. This is also an attempt at trying out/experimenting with a new style of writing/narration/presentation - this piece is unbetaed, so apologies for all the grammatical errors that you may have spotted on here! Thanks for reading!

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For those who are unfamiliar with the Japanese terms that I have used in this fic, here are some definitions/explanations (as sourced from Wikipedia):

Tengu (天狗, Tengu? "heavenly dogs") are a class of supernatural creatures found in Japanese folklore, art, theatre, and literature. They are one of the best known youkai (monster-spirits) and are sometimes worshipped as Shinto kami (revered spirits or gods). The Tengu were originally thought to take the forms of birds of prey, and they are traditionally depicted with both human and avian characteristics. The earliest Tengu were pictured with beaks, but this feature has often been humanized as an unnaturally long nose, which today is practically the Tengu's defining characteristic in the popular imagination. Buddhism long held that the Tengu were disruptive demons and harbingers of war. Their image gradually softened, however, into one of protective, if still dangerous, spirits of the mountains and forests.

According to Japanese folklore, a cat (neko) that has lived for a long time can become a kind of youkai called a nekomata (猫叉). It was believed that after a cat has reached ten years of age, its tail would slowly split into two tails, and, along the way, it would develop magic powers, primarily those of necromancy and shamanism. Nekomata also have an ability to shape shift into a human form and are generally hostile to humans. There is also one kind of Nekomata that lived in Nabeshimahan（鍋島藩）, which lived long enough to split its tail six times, resulting in seven tails. It is the most powerful nekomata in Japan.

The naginata (なぎなた, 薙刀) is one of several varieties of traditionally made Japanese blades (nihonto) in the form of a pole weapon. Naginata were originally used by the samurai class of feudal Japan, as well as by ashigaru (foot soldiers) and sōhei (warrior monks).The naginata is the iconic weapon of the onna-bugeisha-archetype; a type of female warrior belonging to the Japanese nobility.

Kitsunebi (狐火) is an atmospheric ghost light told about in legends all across Japan. In the middle of night when people have fallen asleep, a fire like in a paper lantern would flicker and appear from between ten and several hundred in a line. The line's length spans across up to one ri (about 500-600m), and depending on their number, when one thinks that they have increased, they would suddenly disappear then multiply once again. Generally the color of the fire is red or orange, but there have been several examples of witnesses that have seen blue flames. As its name implies, it has a close relation to kitsune (foxes).

Hope this clears up any possible confusion and potential queries!

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-paws-bells