Cemel Dosce [1a/?]
anonymous
August 20 2010, 19:01:28 UTC
AN: I apologize to OP if this is not what you wanted! I just started writing and couldn't bring myself to stop. Also, sorry for my poor English. Simply the intro, Alfred and Arthur will interact more later~ -*-*- Throughout life, many desire things that seem unobtainable and when this dream seems too distant for fingertips to graze, the desire dwindles to a low simmer. It is such as a homeless man desires riches, yet simply loses hope for they were never meant to be more than the street filth of a city.
Yet, Arthur Kirkland had never been this homeless man. No, he held power, the influence, and whatever he lusted for; he would take into his grasp and hold it tight, like a precious treasure. Anything that he wanted was his and he had desired the world. So the world was his, all for the taking, all to be united under Britannia and his lust will bubble and boil over, uncontrollable and no one to stop it.
That was the intention of the New World in the beginning, to take the unexplored lands as his, all his. No one was there to stop him, to stop him from conquering, ravaging, and stripping this new, fertile soil of all of its resources. That was what he was to believe until he had met those bright sky blue eyes, simply flickering with innocence, admiration, and they were clear…so clear.
Nothing like the clouded skies of England, dreary and grey, always dripping with rain. It was as if the angels cried over his land, his forbidden land, so small yet so large. Simply not meant to be, cursed with the tears of weeping angels.
Yet, British America had them smiling upon the land, where the nature thrived and the land was beautiful, lush, and unexplored. That young boy, his precious colony, was his treasure, the Great British Empire’s precious treasure, where the angels and sun smiled. The boy was a cherub and he did not deserve him, he did not deserve this sweet little boy that he had named Alfred, who was blessed with everything that he did not have.
But when the British Empire lusted, when Arthur lusted, he will take even the sweetest of blessings on this Earth.
His Earth.
Arthur did not know when it had started, yet he soon found himself desiring Alfred’s company more and more. This boy had a way to make him smile, upon that cruel face which many feared. His sweet lovely colony never had seen the fear that Arthur struck into his enemies and he did not intend for such things to happen. He didn’t want to scare his precious baby boy off, not when he had the taste of innocence and simply adoration to him and only him.
“Um, I love you, England! A lot!”
The words always repeated in his mind, over and over again. Words that had never been directed at him before he had met America, sweet, sweet little America. As he rested in bed, Alfred curling in his arms and letting out light snores, tiny hands gripping at Arthur’s shirt, he found that he could not sleep. He had not been able to sleep for minutes, hours…has it been days?
To be loved…was this how it felt? This warm pounding against his chest, a low, steady thrum which speeded whenever simply three words were peeped out to him?
Arthur closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath, hand stroking through the boy’s golden hair as they rested, the golden fields of grain, the gold that was hidden within the land, and the sun. He held the sun as well, not only the Earth, but also the sun.
“Alfred…my sweet baby boy…” He murmurs under his breath, knowing the boy was asleep.
“I…lo…” His breath hitches, the words try to struggle out of his throat, to fall out of his lips, to roll off of his tongue, yet it never comes.
Arthur huffs under his breath and holds Alfred closer to his body, who shifts in closer to the heat. No matter how many times, the words would never come out.
Re: Cemel Dosce [1b/?]
anonymous
August 20 2010, 19:07:23 UTC
It was years upon years, a cycle that Arthur had grown used to though was slowly growing to despise more and more. Alfred had grown, now appearing to be more than an infant and so close to starting puberty yet he was still so young, so innocent, still his. The boy was growing rowdy, more adventurous, desiring to explore more of himself, more of his land…his people. The British colonists and the natives alike.
This made Arthur worry. Every moment spent away from Alfred now was spent wondering how the boy was doing, if he was safe, if he was keeping away from those natives. The natives would only hurt him in the end, they were savages. Savages, desiring blood, believing in false things, one which were not acceptable to Arthur. Every passing second, minute tore Arthur slightly, layer by layer, torturously as he was away from Alfred.
His young colony, his treasure, was growing to be an obsession. Britannia told himself it was for the resources, his obsession was to spread his influence, to kill the savages, to take the land as all his. Arthur told himself that it was Alfred, his bright smile, innocence, and love for him and only him. Britannia told himself that Alfred was only a colony, his love towards the boy only to manipulate. Arthur told himself that Alfred was like his son, his love platonic and caring.
Little did he know…they know…that both were wrong.
It had grown and grown just like Alfred. The boy was starting to show signs of the future, of the bright future and hopes and dreams. The land of hope and dreams, the New World.
Grown and grown. Something so innocent into something disgusting. Disgusting and wrong.
Yet, Arthur had not realized that this disgusting creature, this horrid, mutated desire was thriving inside him and he was in denial.
He was only concerned about Alfred and those savages, those damn savages. They would hurt his precious boy. That was reason enough. He had an empire to run, but not when Alfred was lingering into such dangerous territory, trying to linger with these savages.
Dropping his feathered pen, Arthur stood up, the sick desire that he had covered up so well growing more and more. He had only come back to England the week before, but he had to go back to his colony, to keep Alfred safe. To keep him safe, as a father and as a guardian. To keep him safe, as an empire, to keep his colonists alive.
Not because he wanted to see Alfred again, to wipe those tears away from his face and whisper to him that it was alright and hold him close. So close, until he could feel the boy’s chest rising and falling, breath over his skin.
‘Liar.’
-*-*- AN: The name Cemel Dosce is a Latin phrase which means 'Know Thyself', which I believe fits Arthur at the moment in what will become his inner dilemma and to find himself through these times of inner turmoil from what's right and what's wrong.
Re: Cemel Dosce [1b/?]
anonymous
August 31 2010, 01:16:08 UTC
Lovely, simply lovely! I hope you will write more, author anon. Don't worry about your English, either-you write better than most people in my English 100 class. That's a college class, and I live in California. So, bottom line, don't worry about it.
Re: Cemel Dosce [1a/?]
anonymous
August 20 2010, 19:08:42 UTC
Don't worry about your English, anon; it's actually quite good, and the story looks excellent so far! I can already tell it's going to break my heart, too. And your title is very clever. :D
-*-*-
Throughout life, many desire things that seem unobtainable and when this dream seems too distant for fingertips to graze, the desire dwindles to a low simmer. It is such as a homeless man desires riches, yet simply loses hope for they were never meant to be more than the street filth of a city.
Yet, Arthur Kirkland had never been this homeless man. No, he held power, the influence, and whatever he lusted for; he would take into his grasp and hold it tight, like a precious treasure. Anything that he wanted was his and he had desired the world. So the world was his, all for the taking, all to be united under Britannia and his lust will bubble and boil over, uncontrollable and no one to stop it.
That was the intention of the New World in the beginning, to take the unexplored lands as his, all his. No one was there to stop him, to stop him from conquering, ravaging, and stripping this new, fertile soil of all of its resources. That was what he was to believe until he had met those bright sky blue eyes, simply flickering with innocence, admiration, and they were clear…so clear.
Nothing like the clouded skies of England, dreary and grey, always dripping with rain. It was as if the angels cried over his land, his forbidden land, so small yet so large. Simply not meant to be, cursed with the tears of weeping angels.
Yet, British America had them smiling upon the land, where the nature thrived and the land was beautiful, lush, and unexplored. That young boy, his precious colony, was his treasure, the Great British Empire’s precious treasure, where the angels and sun smiled. The boy was a cherub and he did not deserve him, he did not deserve this sweet little boy that he had named Alfred, who was blessed with everything that he did not have.
But when the British Empire lusted, when Arthur lusted, he will take even the sweetest of blessings on this Earth.
His Earth.
Arthur did not know when it had started, yet he soon found himself desiring Alfred’s company more and more. This boy had a way to make him smile, upon that cruel face which many feared. His sweet lovely colony never had seen the fear that Arthur struck into his enemies and he did not intend for such things to happen. He didn’t want to scare his precious baby boy off, not when he had the taste of innocence and simply adoration to him and only him.
“Um, I love you, England! A lot!”
The words always repeated in his mind, over and over again. Words that had never been directed at him before he had met America, sweet, sweet little America. As he rested in bed, Alfred curling in his arms and letting out light snores, tiny hands gripping at Arthur’s shirt, he found that he could not sleep. He had not been able to sleep for minutes, hours…has it been days?
To be loved…was this how it felt? This warm pounding against his chest, a low, steady thrum which speeded whenever simply three words were peeped out to him?
Arthur closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath, hand stroking through the boy’s golden hair as they rested, the golden fields of grain, the gold that was hidden within the land, and the sun. He held the sun as well, not only the Earth, but also the sun.
“Alfred…my sweet baby boy…” He murmurs under his breath, knowing the boy was asleep.
“I…lo…” His breath hitches, the words try to struggle out of his throat, to fall out of his lips, to roll off of his tongue, yet it never comes.
Arthur huffs under his breath and holds Alfred closer to his body, who shifts in closer to the heat. No matter how many times, the words would never come out.
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The British colonists and the natives alike.
This made Arthur worry. Every moment spent away from Alfred now was spent wondering how the boy was doing, if he was safe, if he was keeping away from those natives. The natives would only hurt him in the end, they were savages. Savages, desiring blood, believing in false things, one which were not acceptable to Arthur. Every passing second, minute tore Arthur slightly, layer by layer, torturously as he was away from Alfred.
His young colony, his treasure, was growing to be an obsession. Britannia told himself it was for the resources, his obsession was to spread his influence, to kill the savages, to take the land as all his. Arthur told himself that it was Alfred, his bright smile, innocence, and love for him and only him. Britannia told himself that Alfred was only a colony, his love towards the boy only to manipulate. Arthur told himself that Alfred was like his son, his love platonic and caring.
Little did he know…they know…that both were wrong.
It had grown and grown just like Alfred. The boy was starting to show signs of the future, of the bright future and hopes and dreams. The land of hope and dreams, the New World.
Grown and grown. Something so innocent into something disgusting.
Disgusting and wrong.
Yet, Arthur had not realized that this disgusting creature, this horrid, mutated desire was thriving inside him and he was in denial.
He was only concerned about Alfred and those savages, those damn savages. They would hurt his precious boy. That was reason enough. He had an empire to run, but not when Alfred was lingering into such dangerous territory, trying to linger with these savages.
Dropping his feathered pen, Arthur stood up, the sick desire that he had covered up so well growing more and more. He had only come back to England the week before, but he had to go back to his colony, to keep Alfred safe.
To keep him safe, as a father and as a guardian. To keep him safe, as an empire, to keep his colonists alive.
Not because he wanted to see Alfred again, to wipe those tears away from his face and whisper to him that it was alright and hold him close. So close, until he could feel the boy’s chest rising and falling, breath over his skin.
‘Liar.’
-*-*-
AN: The name Cemel Dosce is a Latin phrase which means 'Know Thyself', which I believe fits Arthur at the moment in what will become his inner dilemma and to find himself through these times of inner turmoil from what's right and what's wrong.
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This was...amazing and it's only the beginning. Wow.
Your english is great and everything else. Wow.
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I'm glad that you like it so far and thanks, I'm always uncertain about it.
I'll update as soon as I get over this horrid fever.
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