Writing: Benefits
Title: Benefits
Fandom: Original
Rating: PG
Pairing: OFC/OMC
Warnings: religious themes (fictional religion), blasphemy (fictional religion), implied infidelity, betrayal, marriage of convenience
Notes: Technically part of storyteller!verse. King Basilisk and Sapphire Rose/The Rose Queen are part of that verse’s pantheon. When I originally planned out The Great Mother of All’s back-story, I never thought of her being married. Written for this prompt, and also the h/c bingo prompt “parting ways”
Summary: Markob thought they married for love. Analeesa’s quest for divinity suggests otherwise.
“He isn’t mine, is he?”
Analeesa shrugged gracefully, the sacred light already beginning to fill her. “He was a means to an end. You may keep him if you like.”
“And I?” Markob asked. “Was I also a means to an end?”
“Of course,” Analeesa said. “How else could I have unlimited access to this temple.” She didn’t look at him, her eyes on the emblem of the basilisk and the rose. “You are a worldly man; surely you understand. Did you not say to my father that our marriage would benefit me?”
“I said that out of love, so he would agree to the marriage.”
“And it worked. Can you not see my benefit? My father is a man of status rather than a poor goat herder; my sisters and their spouses have success and wealth; and I…” she stopped to smile, stepping closer to the temple doors. “I am mother to the child of a god. I have won my right to godhood. All shall worship me as you have worshipped me, and I will make another marriage of alliance, a greater one.”
She pressed her hand over the rose and it melted. Now the image of the basilisk was curled around the shape of Analeesa’s hand.
Markob stepped back, horror and fury warring on his face. “The Rose Queen will not stand for this. All if the Celestial Court will come against you.”
“Let them come.”
The strength of her conviction made the walls of the temple groan. From the house below the hill came a child’s wail. Markob looked at Analeesa’s red hair, her pale skin, searching for any sign of the woman he loved. There was none.
“I do not worship you,” he said weakly. “I do not worship you,” he repeated in a stronger voice. “I will never worship you.”
She laughed. “You love me. You cannot help but worship me, and soon, the rest of the world shall worship me too.”
“I love you,” Markob agreed, “but I do not worship you. I worship all the gods under sky and under king, but I do not worship you.”
He turned from her. She shook her head at him, still laughing. “Come husband. Take off that emblem you wear. You can still worship the basilisk, if you wish.”
He pulled his cloak, emblazoned with the symbol of the basilisk and the rose, tighter around him. He said nothing to her.
Markob followed the path down the hill, towards the cries of the child.
Analeesa’s outstretched hand closed into a fist.
The nurse turned to him with desperate eyes when he entered, the child screaming against her chest. “Lord, where is the Lady? I cannot soothe him.”
“Analeesa is gone,” Markob said, laying his cloak across a chair.
“I don’t understand.”
Markob took the child from her. “I must ask that you stay longer, Lara. My son will need a caretaker.”
“Where is the lady? What happened on the hill?”
Markob did not answer her. He could not. Instead, he made sure that the charms were still tied to the child’s ankle and that the lavender still hung above the crib.
“Is…is she dead?”
Markob froze at the question, and Lara made a wretched noise. “She’s dead isn’t she? I knew she was too weak for the walk, I knew it. She was so frail after the birth, so changed. Now she will not see his naming day.”
He closed his eyes, and thought about the last sight of her on the hill - her unfamiliarity, her dismissive laugh. “Yes,” he whispered. “Analeesa is dead.”
Markob would let Analeesa die a woman of honor; it was the last gift his marriage would give to her. It was easier than the truth.
Fandom: Original
Rating: PG
Pairing: OFC/OMC
Warnings: religious themes (fictional religion), blasphemy (fictional religion), implied infidelity, betrayal, marriage of convenience
Notes: Technically part of storyteller!verse. King Basilisk and Sapphire Rose/The Rose Queen are part of that verse’s pantheon. When I originally planned out The Great Mother of All’s back-story, I never thought of her being married. Written for this prompt, and also the h/c bingo prompt “parting ways”
Summary: Markob thought they married for love. Analeesa’s quest for divinity suggests otherwise.
“He isn’t mine, is he?”
Analeesa shrugged gracefully, the sacred light already beginning to fill her. “He was a means to an end. You may keep him if you like.”
“And I?” Markob asked. “Was I also a means to an end?”
“Of course,” Analeesa said. “How else could I have unlimited access to this temple.” She didn’t look at him, her eyes on the emblem of the basilisk and the rose. “You are a worldly man; surely you understand. Did you not say to my father that our marriage would benefit me?”
“I said that out of love, so he would agree to the marriage.”
“And it worked. Can you not see my benefit? My father is a man of status rather than a poor goat herder; my sisters and their spouses have success and wealth; and I…” she stopped to smile, stepping closer to the temple doors. “I am mother to the child of a god. I have won my right to godhood. All shall worship me as you have worshipped me, and I will make another marriage of alliance, a greater one.”
She pressed her hand over the rose and it melted. Now the image of the basilisk was curled around the shape of Analeesa’s hand.
Markob stepped back, horror and fury warring on his face. “The Rose Queen will not stand for this. All if the Celestial Court will come against you.”
“Let them come.”
The strength of her conviction made the walls of the temple groan. From the house below the hill came a child’s wail. Markob looked at Analeesa’s red hair, her pale skin, searching for any sign of the woman he loved. There was none.
“I do not worship you,” he said weakly. “I do not worship you,” he repeated in a stronger voice. “I will never worship you.”
She laughed. “You love me. You cannot help but worship me, and soon, the rest of the world shall worship me too.”
“I love you,” Markob agreed, “but I do not worship you. I worship all the gods under sky and under king, but I do not worship you.”
He turned from her. She shook her head at him, still laughing. “Come husband. Take off that emblem you wear. You can still worship the basilisk, if you wish.”
He pulled his cloak, emblazoned with the symbol of the basilisk and the rose, tighter around him. He said nothing to her.
Markob followed the path down the hill, towards the cries of the child.
Analeesa’s outstretched hand closed into a fist.
The nurse turned to him with desperate eyes when he entered, the child screaming against her chest. “Lord, where is the Lady? I cannot soothe him.”
“Analeesa is gone,” Markob said, laying his cloak across a chair.
“I don’t understand.”
Markob took the child from her. “I must ask that you stay longer, Lara. My son will need a caretaker.”
“Where is the lady? What happened on the hill?”
Markob did not answer her. He could not. Instead, he made sure that the charms were still tied to the child’s ankle and that the lavender still hung above the crib.
“Is…is she dead?”
Markob froze at the question, and Lara made a wretched noise. “She’s dead isn’t she? I knew she was too weak for the walk, I knew it. She was so frail after the birth, so changed. Now she will not see his naming day.”
He closed his eyes, and thought about the last sight of her on the hill - her unfamiliarity, her dismissive laugh. “Yes,” he whispered. “Analeesa is dead.”
Markob would let Analeesa die a woman of honor; it was the last gift his marriage would give to her. It was easier than the truth.