allichaton: (Default)
I had class from 9:30 to 2:00 yesterday, so it was really hard for me to get my words. Sleep exhaustion kept creeping closer and closer, far faster than my word count goal. I ended up going to bed about 12:20, and setting my alarm to get up at 1:10. Stayed up writing from 1:10 until 4:00-ish, and am now at 10,724--only 705 words shy of where I should be. I'm pretty pleased, since I was fully expecting to be abolut 2k short by the time I finally went to sleep.

Snippet: Angst Alert! )
allichaton: (Default)
"Gods damn it!" Eleuia threw the book across the room. It spun through the air, spilling pages as it flew, and crashed against the wall. It fell to the floor in a heap of crumpled paper and broken bindings.

"I do not think the priests will appreciate you destroying books that took years of painstaking work to copy. But then, that could just be me."

Eleuia didn't bother to attempt to restrain her snarl. "Go away, Citlali."

"I don't think so." Citlali pushed away from the bookcase she had been leaning against and walked forward, her expression twisted into a malicious smirk. She crouched down when she reached the book Eleuia had thrown and picked it up, carefully sliding the loose pages back between the covers. She stood and looked down at the book, her lips pursed. "Sorcery?" She sighed and shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Poor little flower. Have you deluded yourself into believing yourself to be a goddess in every sense of the word? You aren't, you know." She moved forward, one slow step at a time. "You're just a little street rat dressed up in pretty clothes. You aren't a goddess at all. Just an ixiptla." She tipped her head to the side. "That is what you told me, isn't it? Just an ixiptla, nothing more. Surely you don't believe you can do magic the same as the gods?" She offered Eleuia and condescending smile and a soft pat upon the head. "Poor deluded little xochi. You're nothing; can't you see that? You are nothing in the eyes of the gods, nothing in the eyes of the people, and nothing in the eyes of Tezcatlipoca." With movements quicker than a viper, Citlali grabbed Eleuia's chin and pulled her forward. The tips of her fingers dug into Eleuia's flesh and grated against the bones of her jaw. "You think he slept with you last night because he cares for you? Don't be naïve. Or can't you comprehend the difference between lust and love?" A grin split across Citlali's face, cruel, malicious. "Poor, misguided little child. You thought he came to you because he cared for you, didn't you? If only you had bothered to remember your place, you might have spared yourself the heartache." Her fingers clenched tighter, urging Eleuia to cry out from the pain. She bit hard on the tip of her tongue and glared her fury at Citlali. Citlali glared back, then threw her back. Eleuia staggered, then fell back, catching herself on her forearms and elbows. The library's rough floor tore at her skin, drawing blood.

Citlali leaned over Eleuia, pressing her down against the floor with her hand upon her chest. "You are Xochiquetzal, little flower. Don't you forget that. You are the goddess of eroticism. Did you fail to comprehend that Tezcatlipoca chose you for that?" She reached down, forcing her hand between Eleuia's legs and curving her fingers over Eleuia's crotch. "You must have been one hell of a great fuck. How could a goddess of sex be anything but? And Tezcatlipoca would have known that." Her fingers curved, biting through the fabric of Eleuia's skirt and digging into her genitals. Eleuia growled and lunged at Citlali, but pinned to the ground, she had no leverage. Citlali's grin spread. "Oh yes. He would have known you'd be a good fuck. But he doesn't love you, my sweet. Just your pussy."
allichaton: (Default)
Snippet! :D:D


"I am a man, not a god, Xochi. I told you that before."

"And I am not Xochiquetzal; I told you that before. When will you listen to me?" She pulled against his hold, but it only tightened. She frowned at his fingers wrapped around her wrist, his grip skirting the edge of pain. "Let me go."

He pulled her closer, forcing her to step towards him. "Xochiquetzal is the only name you have ever given me. What would you have me call you?"

"Given my druthers, I'd have you let me go and be on my way. I may be your wife, but I'm not yours to command as you wish, nor anyone's."

"A trade, then?"

She laughed, but it was laced with pain. The primal instincts of the animal within her had taken hold of her; Tezcatlipoca held her captive, and her only recourse was flight or flight. After the night she'd spent in his arms, she didn't have the strength or will to fight him. Gods knew he'd be sure to win. But her limbs ached for the freedom of flight; her heart fluttered within her chest, fueled by adrenaline that made her muscles twitch with the need for use. "My freedom, for my name? Why do you care?" And Huitzilpoctli, why wouldn't he let her go?

"Why do I care?" His eyes narrowed; his voice turned husky, dangerous. "Why do I care about the woman I married? Why do I care about the woman I shared passion with, who showed me overwhelming passion unlike any I've ever known?" His grip tightened, drawing her forward now with an urgency that refused to be denied. "Why do I care about the terror I see now in your eyes when you look at me? Why do I care about you? Gods--how can I not care?" He shook his head, a single quick, hard shake that spoke eloquence about the frustration that made his voice waver as he spoke. "And how can you not understand? Do you not care to know my name, to know me for me, instead of the god all of Mexica expects me to be?"

"I. . ." She drew a deep breath. She tread foreign ground here, aspects of herself that she'd never thought to pay attention to before. "I have never thought of you as anything other than my god. I have always worshipped you"--he grimaced, and she hurried to correct herself--"worshipped Tezcatlipoca above all others. Ever since I experienced my first shift. He is the Leopard Lord; it only made sense. And I have never thought of you as anything other than him. I have never been given the chance. I was chosen as an ixiptla candidate because of my overwhelming devotion to Tezcatlipoca, and I have had lessons of how I should behave and how my lord should be treated pounded into my head for the past eleven months. When everyone and everything I am taught revolves around holding you up as Tezcatlipoca himself, how am I supposed to think any different?"

"I might ask you the same question." His eyes were dark, unreadable. His hands were bands of iron around her upper arms, holding her locked against his chest. "Do you think my priests have been regaling me with stories of your mortality, your humanity? Don't you think that I have suffered the same propaganda that you have? I have gone through lessons for this past year just as you have, on how to treat my new wives, on how delicate and fragile my new goddess-wives will be. . ." He made a disgusted sound and shook his head. "We're beyond that, aren't we?" He paused for a long moment, a painful expression transforming his face. "You are the only wives I shall ever know, you and your sisters. Would you now force me into a mockery of marriage, as I have been forced into a mockery of godhood?"

She wanted escape. Every shred of common sense she possessed told her to run, to escape from his hold and just run. But another part of her, deeper, cousin to the feral jaguar that always waited crouched within her, wanted to stay, to teach him her name, to learn his is return. That part of her held her frozen within his grasp, trembling, yearning to give in.

Too long, she'd done what she'd had to, at the expense of all the things she'd wanted to do. Too long, she'd been slave to her common sense, to the predator's demands for survival. She was tired of sacrificing; she was tired of being led around on the leash of obligation.

"Eleuia," she whispered, her voice shaking as she spoke the one word she wanted to speak, and the one word she shouldn't.

"Eleuia." He whispered her name, his lips curving into a soft smile. His voice turned it into a caress. "You have a beautiful name, Eleuia."

She let him draw her forward, until her forehead rested against his. "I want to hear yours." She spoke softly, the barest of whispers. "I want to know your name. Please."


She had to chuckle. "Every name I have to call you by is a mouthful. Do you not have a shorter name, that I may use?"

His smile spread. "I would be honored if you would call me Neza."

"The honor is mine." No sooner had the words passed her lips than he pulled her tight against him, and covered her mouth with his own. There was passion, just as there had always been, but this time there was tenderness, as well. There was intimacy, and caring. A new level had been added to their relationship, and Eleuia shivered at the implications.


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April 2009



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