The Lady
This is a little something I wrote a long time ago. It features a goddess and a human she rescues. After some editing, it’s ready to be read. Please enjoy.
Warnings: blood and death
She isn’t human, she is something else entirely. A goddess, a being who is so old she saw the creation of the world and has already seen the end. Her eyes are always bright, her hair is always perfect, and she is always smiling. She is beautiful, gentle, sexual, cunning, horrifying, monstrous, and violent.
She is who the broken and desperate went to. Humans, elves, orcs, minotaur’s, all the races go to her. They beg her for help, her name falling from their lips and tears running down their faces. Her followers and those she helps all pay their respects to her, they love and fear her. She is life and death mixed together. Chaos and tranquility.
She doesn’t have a name. She claims if she had one, she forgot it. Those who worship her simply call her The Lady. She is The Lady of many things, of many aspects. The Lady of Death, The Lady of Life, The Lady of Rebirth. The names vary depending on locations, but her image is always the same. A human woman surrounded by skulls and flowers.
I asked her once how our world will end. She only told me the way it was created, with fire and noise so loud it will shake your soul. I paled at that, but she took my hand, kissed it, and smiled softly. “My realm lies outside your world. You and the others will be safe. And when that world ends, I will make a new one.”
“Why? Why the destruction?”
She must have heard the fear in my voice because her face softened. She smiled at me and scooted closer, taking my hands in hers. “It is the way of things. You, mortals, say it is how life is. It’s how I am. I give life and I take. You cannot have one without the other.”
“What of the other gods?”
She scoffed and sat up in our bed. The blanket fell from her body, revealing her bare breasts. “What of them? When I decide to remake the world, they cannot fight me.”
She’s currently asleep on my chest. I relish these moments. While she will always be an immortal being with the power to destroy the world, to me, she is only my love. When her hair is a mess, and she’s snoring softly, I swear she has never looked prettier. Even when she drools on me, I don’t mind.
The sunlight is slowly entering our room. It’s still early here, but she’ll be getting up soon. For a goddess, she has a rather erratic schedule. Somedays she’s busy, visiting different parts of her realm and speaking to those who live here. Smiling and laughing with them. Kissing and holding them if they need it.
The days she needs to speak with other deities, well, those days can be incredibly stressful. If it’s a deity she likes, like Thelena, a goddess of the underworld or even Aro a love deity, then the day isn’t so bad. But if it’s a god she dislikes, well, it will be a long day. I still remember when a young god named Onir strolled into her realm. He considered himself to be the god of war, but he was more like a god of the assholes. I remember The Lady physically throwing him out of her realm.
I hope today is a relaxation day, that way she and I can stay in bed all day. No worries, no one to bother us, just her and me.
I came to her realm through a portal located at one of her shrines. It is… remote, not something that is easy to find unless you know the shrine is there. I remember when I first saw the shrine and portal. My body was beaten and bruised; my hands were bound behind my back. Her followers, or fanatics, that surrounded me were the reason I was in such a position.
I remember how those bastards charged into the village I was living in at the time. They were shouting her name, demanding everyone to get down and praise her. They required more followers and the creation of a new shrine. Everyone scoffed at how ridiculous they were being. Nothing but a bunch of crazed zealots.
The village was a simple farming village, so the people here worshipped gods of the land and of the home. Gods that would ensure a good harvest and gods that would keep their families safe. When the fanatics continued with their disregard for others beliefs, the villagers insulted The Lady. I remember how angry the fanatics got, the cold look in their eyes made my skin crawl.
At that time, I didn’t believe in any god. No god ever answered my prayers. No god ever prevented me from being sent to war for a cause I did not believe in. A war started by some king I did not like. No god helped ease the pain and guilt I felt from killing people. No god ever answered why I was alive when my friends died. No god comforted me when I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. At the time, I believed gods were only fantasies and stories.
When the fanatics attacked, it was during the night. I woke to screams and shouts. The fanatics were shouting her name, while the villagers were screaming for mercy. From my small room above the bakery, I could see a fire burning in the fields.
I remember grabbing my sword and shield from beneath my bed. There was a time I swore never to pick these up again, but there I was, picking them up again to defend the villagers. Many of them knew how to use a bow, but close combat was something they could not do.
Most of that night is a blur. I remember shouting orders, a makeshift barricade was made, and the smell of fire and blood. Every fanatic I cut down, there seemed to be two more to take their place. I watched people I’ve come to know and care about slaughtered. Women, men, children, the elderly, animals, it did not matter. The fanatics killed any they came across.
I will say though, that my efforts were not wasted. Many escaped, fleeing into the woods where some hunters were guiding them to safety. I and a few others refused to leave, we would stand and fall for those who were running.
Eventually, I was the last one alive. The others who fought beside me had died. I was alone against an onslaught of fanatics with knives and hammers.
When I fell, the first thing I noticed was the blood-soaked ground. I dimly wondered how much of the blood belonged to the innocent. The dead bodies got my attention next.
I saw the baker’s eldest daughter. She always smiled sweetly at me every morning and gave me the best bread. She was so kind, always wanting to help, and so full of life. But there she was, lying face up covered in blood. Her throat was cut, eyes staring at nothing. Opposite of her was the old blacksmith. He was a large man and had been one of the first to fight beside me. The fanatics stabbed him repeatedly, but he refused to stop fighting. He took his last breath, eyes looking up at the night sky. I saw the poor man who begged on the streets. A veteran from some old war, he suffered mentally for many years. He stayed beside me as well.
The Lady’s fanatics surrounded me and said I was going to be a sacrifice. They bound my hands, covered my head with a bag, and threw me onto the back of a horse. The ride was long and painful. By the time they arrived at their destination, it was two days later. My body ached and I prayed they would kill me soon. They pulled me off the horse roughly, not caring that I was injured. They forced me up and made me walk, the bag over my head prevented me from seeing anything.
When they pushed me onto my knees and the bag was ripped off my head, the first thing I saw was a large shrine with a life-size statue of The Lady. It was so realistic that I couldn’t help but shiver. The statue’s right hand was outstretched, palm facing up; a human skull sat in her hand. The left hand hung at her side, holding a bouquet of flowers. The statue’s face was stern like she was challenging any who looked upon her.
At the base of the statue were numerous gifts and offerings: handmade trinkets, animal bones, food, flowers, clothing, children’s toys, and candles. Old armor and weapons lay in a small pile, and there was even a baby’s cradle. There were flowers growing around the statue. I remember thinking how beautiful they were and how sweet they smelled. It was then I noticed a human skull beneath the flowers. Then a second skull, a third, and then a fourth. I grimaced as I wondered how many human remains were in the area. Would I be next?
The man that ripped the bag off my head began to speak. I glanced back and saw it was the high priest. Gods, I hated him. He had killed the baker’s daughter, with a smile on his face. I wanted to smash his head in.
The priest either ignored my look or didn’t see it. He called to the goddess, the lady of life and death, the destroyer and creator. He said I was to be the newest sacrifice, a great warrior who would serve her well. I cursed and tried to pull away.
“Fuck you and fuck your goddess,” I shouted. The fanatics surrounding me growled, and the high priest glared down at me. “Gods aren’t real. And you fuckers are nothing but murderers.”
“You will see her soon, and then you will answer for your blasphemy,” he said. He placed the knife against my throat. I can still remember how cold the blade was.
This is it, I thought. My eyes shut as I waited for death. The blade dug into my skin, the pain almost made me hiss and pull away. But I would die with some dignity. Before the high priest could finish me, there was a bright light, followed by many gasps and cries. When my eyes opened, The Lady stood before us.
Her beauty left me speechless. The gown she wore hugged her body, showing off her hips and breasts. Her hair was a mess of waves and curls. A crown of dark red flowers on top of her head. Her dark eyes roamed the scene before her, the look on her face unreadable. When her gaze rested on me, her eyes narrowed and she stepped down from her shrine. The high priest bowed and began to speak to her, but she cut him off.
“Who is this?” she asked, pointing at me.
“A warrior, my Lady,” he said. The other fanatics were down on their hands and knees. I wondered if they were afraid or enamored. Maybe both.
“You killed innocent people, in my name,” she stated. Her hand reached down and rested on your cheek; I couldn’t help but lean into her touch. I couldn’t take my eyes off her; I didn’t want to take my eyes off her. If she asked me, I would have kissed her feet and begged for forgiveness. Part of me hoped she would ask for that.
“They were not innocent, my Lady. They were fools. They mocked you and called you a whore. And this one here,” the man said gesturing to me. “Killed your most devout. Before you arrived, they cursed and mocked you!”
“I heard them. And it is true, I am what would be called a whore. In my realm, I have many lovers, and I’m always looking for my newest love,” she said. The hand on my cheek slid down to my neck; her nails lightly scratched my skin. When she leaned in close, her face inches away from mine, I could smell her. She smelled so sweet, so delicious, that my mouth began to water. I wanted to lean forward and taste her, just to see if she tasted sweet. Her eyes seemed to be daring me to do just that, yet I didn’t dare.
“My Lady? Do you… fancy this person?” the high priest asked. He sounded insulted.
“I do. They are a strong warrior, easy on the eyes, and troubled. My heart hurts for the pain they have endured. I could feel them calling out to me, begging me to ease the hurt they feel. But, before I can do that, I have something to attend too,” she said. She moved away from me and I nearly cried out. Her sweet smell lingered though, so that was a comfort.
I watched as she approached the high priest. He was so infatuated with her that he didn’t notice the anger on her face or the blade she pulled from her waist. I jumped when she sunk the blade into his stomach. He didn’t seem to understand what was happening.
She made quick work of the fanatics. Cutting them down but not killing them, simply leaving them to bleed out on the ground. She ignored their cries for mercy and their questions. It was strangely sad; they didn’t seem to understand why she was angry.
When she was finished with them, the familiar coppery smell burned my nose. Their bodies littered the ground, most of them were slowly dying. More bones to be added to her shrine. She simply looked down at the bodies, a look of annoyance on her beautiful face.
I nearly cried when she approached me and undid the rope tied around my wrists.
“W-why did you kill them?” I asked, trembling at the feet of this deity.
“They were fools. Every god has their fanatics, it’s important to get rid of them. They’re an infection, and removal is necessary to keep it from spreading,” she said. The coldness in her voice sent a chill down my back.
“Are… are you going to kill me?” I asked.
“No, you can go. Or… you can come with me,” she said. She reached her hands out for me to take. I took them and she pulled me up to stand. My body nearly gave out, but she held me up.
She was shorter than me, by at least a whole foot. While looking down at most people is something I’m used to, looking down at this goddess was a surprise. Even though she is shorter than me, she was able to support me leaning against her. While her size made her look small and unassuming, the aura surrounding her was imposing. And those eyes, those dark eyes, were unsettling.
“Go where, with you?”
“My realm. My home. I have others there. An assortment of lovers, friends, and followers who sacrificed themselves to join me. You will not be alone there,” she said.
I said nothing for a bit. Just slowly pulled away from her when I was sure I could stand on my own. She stayed close to me like she was expecting me to fall over. The worry on her face made my heart speed up and my stomach flip. I couldn’t understand why she looked so worried about me or why she helped me.
“Why did you help me?”
She smiled sadly and placed a hand on my chest. “Because of your pain for the things you have done. It is not easy to take and give life, I know.”
“I did not give life.”
“But you did. In the war, your actions kept many people safe, but you also killed and allowed others to be killed. At the village, you killed those fanatics and saved the farmers. Life and death are everywhere, and you know it intimately.”
“I never wished to know it.”
She stepped closer to me; her hands cupped my face. “I know. That’s why I came to you personally to give you a choice. Stay here, continue to give and take, or come with me.”
“If I go with you, what would I do? Would I be one of your lovers?”
She dusted off the dirt from my shirt and wiped the blood from my neck. She frowned at the bruises on my face and the way I held my side. “You can be whatever you want to be. My lover, another’s lover, a farmer, or nothing. The choice is yours.”
If I stayed, I would be alone and I was so tired of being alone. If I went with her, I’m putting my trust in a being that could kill me with a look. But when I looked upon her face, there was nothing but compassion there. Her dark eyes were soft and her smile was sweet.
I took a deep breath and swallowed before I spoke. “Can… Can I be your lover?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes.”
She smiled and her eyes sparkled. “Then yes, you can be one of my lovers. You will be my first human lover. Are you ready to go?”
She reached her hand out and I gazed down at it. As my hand slipped into hers, I realized I wasn’t afraid. Where ever I went, there was life and death. She was right, I was taking life or protecting it. It was a shock to realize that I have always been hers, an agent of her will; I just didn’t know it. No wonder no other gods answered my prayers, she was receiving them all herself.
“Yes.” I squeezed her hand, making sure it was real. She squeezed back and pulled me towards the shrine. I followed her through that portal and never looked back.
That was, well, who knows how long ago. Time is different in her realm. Sure, the sun rises and sets, but the seasons do not change. It is always spring. And the moon is always full here. It was a shock at first, and some days it still bothers me.
A soft hand on my face brings me from my memories. She’s looking at me, a concerned look on her sleepy face. “Are you ok?”
“Yes.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“About the first time we met.”
She smiles and nods. “I was rather angry when we met. My poor warrior was hurt, alone, and so very angry.”
“We were both angry, but only you were beautiful.”
She smirks and looks away, a slight blush on her face. When she looks back up at me, her face is serious. “Are you still angry?”
I think the answer over for a moment. “Sometimes.”
“Are you angry now?”
“No. I’m happy.”
Her smile widens and her eyes shine. “Why?”
“Because I am here with you, and you make me happy.”
“I am glad to hear that.” She presses a kiss to my lips. I moan at the softness of her lips and how sweet she tastes. When she rests her head back against my chest, and my arms wrap around her, I understand how a person could be home.