Challenge 10: Weekly Quick Fic 3
Title: Dreams
Prompt: Reoccurring dream, "Dangerous gifts are such mine to come." (Bjork)
Bonus? Y
Word Count: 361
Rating: T
Original/Fandom: original
Pairings (if any) Demetria/Euphrasia, Zeus/Euphrasia
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc): implied sex
Summary: There is a man in her dreams, he comes every night.
There is a man in her dreams. She can never remember much about him, a flash of silver, the richness of his voice, but he is always there and always the same.
“Maybe he is the man you are going marry,” Demetria suggests, weaving her fingers through Euphrasia’s hair.
“No,” she says, “he isn’t Timoteus.”
Demetria shrugs delicately, fingers sliding through Euphrasia’s hair and down her neck, slipping under the edge of her chiton. “Just because you are engaged doesn’t mean that you are going to get married.”
“Maybe,” she says, biting her lip.
“Stop that,” Demetria tells her, kissing her.
Euphrasia listens.
~*~*~
There is music in the air. It is a sad song, delicately drifting through the air, and Euphrasia needs to find the source.
“Where are you going?” her brother asks, fire from his torch casting flickering shadows across his face.
“Do not worry,” she whispers, and she runs. He shouts something after her, but it is lost to the wind.
~*~*~
There is a man waiting for her. He is the man from her dreams.
“Who are you?” she asks. Her voice and her body are trembling as she stands before him.
He touches her, and it is like a thousand bolts of lightning are racing across her skin. “I think you know,” he says as leans down to kiss her. And she thinks Ah, yes, of course as his beard tickles her and her chiton falls to the ground.
~*~*~
There is a slight curve to her stomach.
“What will you do?” Demetria asks, touching it.
“I have to keep it.”
Demetria frowns. “Do you even know his name?”
“Yes,” she says. “He calls himself a god.” She twists the silver bracelet on her wrist as Demetria gasps softly. The bracelet and the child are the only reminders she has of that night. They make poor gifts, and perhaps dangerous ones as well.
“Your father and Timoteus will be unhappy.”
“There is nothing I can do,” Euphrasia says, still playing with her bracelet.
Demetria kisses the corner of her mouth. “You will have me.”
Euphrasia wraps her arms her. “I know.”
~*~*~
There is a woman in her dreams.
Prompt: Reoccurring dream, "Dangerous gifts are such mine to come." (Bjork)
Bonus? Y
Word Count: 361
Rating: T
Original/Fandom: original
Pairings (if any) Demetria/Euphrasia, Zeus/Euphrasia
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc): implied sex
Summary: There is a man in her dreams, he comes every night.
There is a man in her dreams. She can never remember much about him, a flash of silver, the richness of his voice, but he is always there and always the same.
“Maybe he is the man you are going marry,” Demetria suggests, weaving her fingers through Euphrasia’s hair.
“No,” she says, “he isn’t Timoteus.”
Demetria shrugs delicately, fingers sliding through Euphrasia’s hair and down her neck, slipping under the edge of her chiton. “Just because you are engaged doesn’t mean that you are going to get married.”
“Maybe,” she says, biting her lip.
“Stop that,” Demetria tells her, kissing her.
Euphrasia listens.
~*~*~
There is music in the air. It is a sad song, delicately drifting through the air, and Euphrasia needs to find the source.
“Where are you going?” her brother asks, fire from his torch casting flickering shadows across his face.
“Do not worry,” she whispers, and she runs. He shouts something after her, but it is lost to the wind.
~*~*~
There is a man waiting for her. He is the man from her dreams.
“Who are you?” she asks. Her voice and her body are trembling as she stands before him.
He touches her, and it is like a thousand bolts of lightning are racing across her skin. “I think you know,” he says as leans down to kiss her. And she thinks Ah, yes, of course as his beard tickles her and her chiton falls to the ground.
~*~*~
There is a slight curve to her stomach.
“What will you do?” Demetria asks, touching it.
“I have to keep it.”
Demetria frowns. “Do you even know his name?”
“Yes,” she says. “He calls himself a god.” She twists the silver bracelet on her wrist as Demetria gasps softly. The bracelet and the child are the only reminders she has of that night. They make poor gifts, and perhaps dangerous ones as well.
“Your father and Timoteus will be unhappy.”
“There is nothing I can do,” Euphrasia says, still playing with her bracelet.
Demetria kisses the corner of her mouth. “You will have me.”
Euphrasia wraps her arms her. “I know.”
~*~*~
There is a woman in her dreams.