[Fic: 100 prompts ] 036, 037, 038 & 039
Theme: 036 - Smell ; 037 - Sound ; 038 - Touch ; 039 - Taste
Words: 241 ; 105 ; 194 ; 98
Characters: Orphée and Eurydice ; Tremy (Saint of Sagitta) ; Unnamed Saint ; Rhadamantys
Disclaimers: Saint Seiya © Masami Kurumada, Toei and Shueisha.
036 - Smell
She smiles at him as soon as his figure appears in her line of vision. Without a word, he walks to their personal sanctuary. His features soften as soon as his feet touch the soft ground and the different scents of the flowers reach him. He sits down at her feet, in the middle of the garden.
“Would you please allow me to listen to your music?”
Once she speaks a soft breeze picks up and for a second, he feels the long-forgotten sensation of Eurydice’s fingers on his face. In response to her request, he leans his hand on the rock that is her body.
“Close your eyes,” he says and sits up, lyre in hand. With a smile she does as told, the music soon embracing her. As if on cue, the memories of a distant place flood her mind.
A garden much like the one they stand in, but far larger. One that stretched into the horizon, far beyond the mountains, far beyond their sight. A place where the scent of flowers was always present, where the laughter of children always accompanied Orphée’s music, where nature and life was everywhere their eyes could see.
“This garden, my beloved…” she whispers, unable to contain her tears as the song reaches its end. “This garden…”
Before she can finish her phrase, Orphée begins to play again. Her soft words are drown out behind the music.
It takes us back home.
037 - Sound
Without fail, heads would turn whenever the distinctive sound of a Gold Saint’s steps could be heard. Precise, without a hint of doubt, the overwhelming presence of the strongest warriors in the Sanctuary couldn’t be missed.
At the sound of a Silver Saint approaching, most would acknowledge them by directing a look in their direction. There were those that would, without a doubt, attract the attention of those gathered near them. There were others that seemed to be destined to exist in the Sanctuary in silence. Tremy refused to be like them.
He was convinced that, one day, Athena herself would turn to acknowledge him.
Warning: R for suggestive situation
038 - Touch
As his fingers slide down her stomach, exploring her body, she lifts her back from the bed. There’s a moment where his name escapes from her lips and his hand falls quick over her mouth, silencing her.
“Shh,” he whispers and bites the slender shoulder exposed below him, before his tongue travels from her neck up to her ear. “No one can know I spend time with a woman like you.”
With her lower lip held by her teeth, she holds in the sounds he provokes. He has taught her to remain silent and never utter his name or his rank in the Sanctuary, as no one is to find out that a Saint visits a tainted woman in search of pleasure.
The rhythmic movements of their bodies takes those thoughts away from her mind. She wraps her arms around his neck and whispers, for no one else but them to hear, the words that make his embrace tighter and his movements faster.
Once the touches stop, only the sound of coins being dropped onto her night table remain.
039 - Taste
As soon as Rhadamantys takes a bite of his food, the piece dissolves in his mouth, leaving an aftertaste of sand. He doesn’t even try the vegetables; he’s had enough trouble trying to eat those before.
The sight of the indescribable masses that are the dishes in front of him, makes him lose his appetite. Even the water in his glass tastes like it’s ready to become impossible to drink. With a wave of his hand he orders the servants to take his dinner away.
He wouldn’t mind if at least his food was preserved in the underworld.
Words: 241 ; 105 ; 194 ; 98
Characters: Orphée and Eurydice ; Tremy (Saint of Sagitta) ; Unnamed Saint ; Rhadamantys
Disclaimers: Saint Seiya © Masami Kurumada, Toei and Shueisha.
036 - Smell
She smiles at him as soon as his figure appears in her line of vision. Without a word, he walks to their personal sanctuary. His features soften as soon as his feet touch the soft ground and the different scents of the flowers reach him. He sits down at her feet, in the middle of the garden.
“Would you please allow me to listen to your music?”
Once she speaks a soft breeze picks up and for a second, he feels the long-forgotten sensation of Eurydice’s fingers on his face. In response to her request, he leans his hand on the rock that is her body.
“Close your eyes,” he says and sits up, lyre in hand. With a smile she does as told, the music soon embracing her. As if on cue, the memories of a distant place flood her mind.
A garden much like the one they stand in, but far larger. One that stretched into the horizon, far beyond the mountains, far beyond their sight. A place where the scent of flowers was always present, where the laughter of children always accompanied Orphée’s music, where nature and life was everywhere their eyes could see.
“This garden, my beloved…” she whispers, unable to contain her tears as the song reaches its end. “This garden…”
Before she can finish her phrase, Orphée begins to play again. Her soft words are drown out behind the music.
It takes us back home.
037 - Sound
Without fail, heads would turn whenever the distinctive sound of a Gold Saint’s steps could be heard. Precise, without a hint of doubt, the overwhelming presence of the strongest warriors in the Sanctuary couldn’t be missed.
At the sound of a Silver Saint approaching, most would acknowledge them by directing a look in their direction. There were those that would, without a doubt, attract the attention of those gathered near them. There were others that seemed to be destined to exist in the Sanctuary in silence. Tremy refused to be like them.
He was convinced that, one day, Athena herself would turn to acknowledge him.
Warning: R for suggestive situation
038 - Touch
As his fingers slide down her stomach, exploring her body, she lifts her back from the bed. There’s a moment where his name escapes from her lips and his hand falls quick over her mouth, silencing her.
“Shh,” he whispers and bites the slender shoulder exposed below him, before his tongue travels from her neck up to her ear. “No one can know I spend time with a woman like you.”
With her lower lip held by her teeth, she holds in the sounds he provokes. He has taught her to remain silent and never utter his name or his rank in the Sanctuary, as no one is to find out that a Saint visits a tainted woman in search of pleasure.
The rhythmic movements of their bodies takes those thoughts away from her mind. She wraps her arms around his neck and whispers, for no one else but them to hear, the words that make his embrace tighter and his movements faster.
Once the touches stop, only the sound of coins being dropped onto her night table remain.
039 - Taste
As soon as Rhadamantys takes a bite of his food, the piece dissolves in his mouth, leaving an aftertaste of sand. He doesn’t even try the vegetables; he’s had enough trouble trying to eat those before.
The sight of the indescribable masses that are the dishes in front of him, makes him lose his appetite. Even the water in his glass tastes like it’s ready to become impossible to drink. With a wave of his hand he orders the servants to take his dinner away.
He wouldn’t mind if at least his food was preserved in the underworld.