The Discoordinated Prologue.
I knew what I was doing. When it ends I will still stand with my belief. I chose this fate, this glorious fate. I am the embodiment of innocence, I am the form of youth, I am the good in the hearts of the pure, I am the curiosity that leads to ruin. Curious of the next stage in my life, I am always seeking the next step, after the virginity of the blossom. Never mind my wants however, I was set to pick flowers in meadows with the nymphs set to guard me. It had always been that way, always would be that way.
But then I met him. I wasn't supposed to really, I was visiting my "Uncle Zeus" with my mother, and went to go fetch my comb from my room and was turning the corner when I saw him. My first thought I still remember, "Goodness he's tall." The man in the dark robes was at least a foot taller than me, and his eyes... his eyes looked straight into me, to my soul. I knew who he was, the Lord of the Dead, King of the Underworld, Ruler of Souls, and he was looking at me, at my soul. My mother had told me never to look him in the eyes, and never to speak, that he was a ruthless villain and would ruin me.
I looked right back into his eyes and swayed a bit when he bowed, eyes never breaking the connection. The connection. Even then I felt something deep within me although I was still too charmed to realize what it was. Charmed, everything he was and did was charming. I remember he kissed my hand, just lightly, almost too pleasantly to be polite. Almost. I curtsied bowing my head, "My Lord." His lips twitched, not quite betraying the smile that almost reached those eyes. He nodded then stood aside to allow me to walk by him, I felt his eyes on me as I walked to the corner of the hall and to this day consider it a miracle I didn't trip, I am not the most graceful of people.
That was the first time I met him. We saw each other often at Olympus but the second time we actually met was a few years later. Once again I was at Olympus, this time for the trial of a mortal man convicted of bringing our fire to the mortals. Personally, I didn't mind really, We didn't need the fire, we had our own light, and it wasn't as if it was all gone, and anyway, I had more important things on my mind. For example the god sitting across from me in the throne room's great almost-complete-circle of thrones. My throne was gold like all the others, but smaller and less decorated, and simply adorned with flowers and leaves. His throne was nearly as large as Zeus' and crowned with black wings and thorns at the base. He looked so... well, bored really. He was lounging just a bit and was moving his index finger in slow circles tracing a bit of cloud that grew darker and darker in color with each turn. I didn't realize I was staring until he looked up and into my eyes. That feeling hit me hard, cold fire burning my veins. So cold it was hot, so hot. I wished for my little paper fan I had left at home, but at the same time wanted to feel this fire, this heat. He sat up a little bit and put a hand to his temple, those hands... I gasped lightly, too quiet for anyone to hear, I was on the end of the circle and the only person next to me was my mother, Demeter. But she was giving her full attention to the poor mortal man on the floor in the center of the golden circle. I quickly looked away from that fire, stunned at how powerful that force was, so much stronger than the first time. If I had felt this then, I would have been scared, now it was terrifying and I loved it. I clutched the arms of my throne and sat up as straight as possible. My eyes flickering back occasionally to those eyes that remained on me for the rest of the trial.
Prometheus, that was the mortal's name as I remember, was condemned to the Underworld and as his sentence was voted, I wasn't allowed to vote, my Lord summoned two shadowy figures to drag him through a hole in the earth, he didn't scream, I admire the mortal for that. I was watching that cold face that showed no mercy for this poor man, I wasn't shocked, no I was far too bewitched for that, I simply admired his precision in doing his job, it didn't concern his personal feelings, it was a job. There was a reception afterwards, my mother presented me proudly to my "Aunt Athena" who smirked when she saw me then grinned and nodded. After a few minutes my mother went off to visit and I wandered amidst all the crowd of gods and goddesses, I was the shortest in the room. I found my favorite "Aunt" and hugged her briefly before sitting with her. My "Aunt Artemis" is the most wonderful woman I know, she gives me total freedom to voice my thoughts and debate my opinions, I always loved the rare times that my mother allowed me to travel with her on her chariot across the sky and shoot the stars with her bow. We sat and spoke for a while, she gave me a silver arm band that depicted a large spiral with a crescent moon just off center. I marveled over it and thanked her so many times I must have seemed so silly, but the she was pulled aside by her brother, my "Uncle Apollo". I have so many aunts and uncles it's quite amusing. As much as I liked Uncle Apollo he was very traditional and unlike Artemis with her free speech and beliefs of equal rights. Once again I was by myself in the crowd. While at times, I admit I was considered "the little princess" at other times I was still just a little girl to them. So I left the loud gold room and went to my favorite ballroom.
It isn't used much and is mostly there for show or the occasionally needed storage. Uncle Zeus promised it to me as a coming of age present. When I come of age, I will simply stay that way as is my nature, permanently young. The oval shaped room has a floor and several columns of polished silver and the walls are covered in scarlet and deep purple tapestries, they don't show anything in particular just swirls and ideas. The curtains are drawn, but I don't mind, every god and goddess has their own light that lives in them as part of their soul. I twirl out to the center of the dance floor, my light glowing with me. Spinning and spinning, my neat hair loosening and my stubborn curls springing free around my face. I stumble a bit and smile softly before running in my always bare feet over to the largest window and standing on tiptoe to throw back the curtains. Unfortunately I lose my balance and start to fall backwards.
Strong arms grasp my waist and a very masculine chest presses securely against my back. I already know who it is, that cold fire is unmistakable. I turn, still in his arms, and look up. We don't speak although I know we should be saying something. I can't help it I just look up at him while he looks me carefully up and down. Looking for scratches I suppose, although my heart is beating too fast to believe that. With youth comes insecurity, and all my extra curves become a sore point for thought and I hate myself all the more as I step away slowly looking down to the floor. Almost as if reading my thoughts he lightly tilts my chin up although my eyes stay down. I look up shocked at what I'm hearing, he just asked me to dance. I'm blushing, I know, and he is smiling an amused half smile down at me as I nod dumbly and hold out my hand. Just as he takes it and begins to pull me in, I hear my mother in the hall calling my name. We both freeze, he still stares at me, I whisper, "Thank you, my Lord. Perhaps another time." With a curtsy I move past, my shoulder brushing his.
He catches my arm with his hand, "I will hold you to that." I swallow and inwardly shiver at his look, that heat just will not cool. As I walk back into the hall I do not turn to see his expression, I do not see if he is still wearing that half smile that lingers below the surface, I force myself to not look back.
My mother asks me where I have been once I have found her. She asks me, exasperated, if I was dancing by myself in my ballroom again. I say no, and for once it's not a complete lie. We return home, and I excuse myself to my room where I cannot stop thinking of him. I am so full of emotion I could dance until the end of eternity and beyond without tiring. But for now my energy exhausts me and I sleep, dreaming solely of his image, and that feeling of cold fire spreading painfully slow through my body.
The next week goes by and I have discovered a hidden meadow surrounded by trees and natural stone walls in the mountains and purposefully neglect to tell my nymph maids where it is. Instead together we go to a nearby meadow and pick flowers and berries until I find an opportunity to sneak away and reside in the warm seclusion of the meadow. I regularly do this and the nymphs, who are not multi-tasking capable creatures do not notice my absence. This meadow has the most unusual flowers, no two are alike, I do not pick more than a single one a day because of their incredible beauty in being alive and representing the day. Alive, as opposed to the dead in the Underworld where my Lord rules. I know not why I call him my Lord, it simply fits in my mind, I do not question it. Is their truly only beauty in life as my mother says? Then what is there in death? Pale hideousness? Then what is the point of dried flowers for their scent, are they not just as pretty yet in a different way? Is a released spirit just as beautiful as a spirit within a body? I am not meant to think these things, but I am youth and curiosity is a part of me.
A month since Prometheus' trial and I am granted permission by my Uncle Zeus to visit Olympus whenever I like, my mother is very protective and I enjoy this freedom as a way to rebel sometimes by escaping from her. It is a rainy day and I travel to Olympus to experience the rain from the clouds themselves. The other gods and goddesses are in their golden rooms entertaining themselves with fancies. There is a balcony that is situated directly inside the clouds, I stand grasping the railing, in the wind and the rain, it is not cold like on earth, the water in the clouds and the sun above them are warm on my skin.
I open my eyes as I feel someone watching me from behind, I know who it is... I do not know why, but I smile to myself and close my eyes once more turning slightly to allow my expression to be seen. His voice sound like the low thunder in the distance, "I seem to recall a promised dance." I open my eyes, my smile is swept away in my excitement in the moment. He reaches out and we fit together so well I feel like a solved puzzle and can only hope he feels the same, while at the same time somehow sensing his agreement. The thunder and lighting and the rain are the music and we move slowly together, it's not a romantic dance, it's just a dance, but there's so much to it. I know not how long it lasted, but eventually the rain stopped and we stood posed in an almost touching moment, before he bent down and put his lips to my forehead, forever charming. "I must go, I am needed in my realm." I nod, not sadly, too dazed to feel anything really, too charmed to be disappointed. He kisses my hand and turns with a whirl of his cloak to go, but this time I stop him with my hand, he stops and turns back. I move closer and taking a deep breath, stand on tiptoe and wrap my arms around his neck, gently place my lips on his cheek, he doesn't react at first, then gently, so gently he places one hand on my lower back and returns the brief farewell with a kiss on my own cheek. Then he is gone.
A/N: Well, there it goes. Please review and let me know what you think, be nice with criticism please. Oh, and also, if you notice any times when I mistakenly change the tense, let me know will you? It's a really rough habit I'm trying to break. Thanks.