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multiplicity_archivesApparently, if I behave myself the way she likes, I get quite a lot of pampering and attention. It's been some time since anyone has baked me brownies and took a hot shower just so they could wash me. In fact, that's never really happened. This must be important to her.
I was born, as I'm sure is well-known by now, in Assyria during what is now known as the Neo-Assyrian Empire. It is called our most powerful age, where we were at our best in all aspects. But what made us Assyrian, what made us happy, was war. I was bred and born specifically to be a soldier. I did not know my parents, and while that might have mattered to me at some point, it barely registered by the time I was a teenager. I was sent to the barracks early on, and was trained heavily each day in the methods of killing and overtaking. We were conquerers, and I was one of the most ruthless, by far.
I could go on for a long time about skirmishes and battles I fought. But what I think would interest you the most is how my entire life, though it began in violence, truly began instead with love.
Egypt was an enemy of the empire, but it fascinated me nonetheless. I had heard things about the Egyptians, of their gods, their architecture, which plagued my dreams with the possibilities that must lie there. I did not wish to defect or betray my kingdom, and moreover, I doubt the Egyptians would have accepted an Assyrian as anything other than a slave. However, I wished to see it at least once, and several army comrades of mine helped me to travel the distance in order to look from afar.
I met a priestess there. She was very young, with haunting eyes that I will never forget. I was not supposed to be there, and she knew this, but the attraction had already become mutual. We were able to communicate enough to where she could tell me that I reminded her of her god, Anubis. It was the first time I was shown a jackal.
We met a few times thereafter, always careful, always silent. I am, and always have been, a large man. Standing straight, I am 6'8", and very muscular (Amber has compared me to Tyson Beckford in appearance and build). However, I knew how not to be seen or heard, and it served me well. The moment she fell in love with me was one of the happiest days of my life. And when she let me touch her, kiss her, and she lay naked for me, it was all I could do not to tremble at her beauty and elegance. I was so very careful with her, for she appeared so delicate, and felt so soft and warm in my arms that I feared I would crush her. But as I watched her, I saw only a loving, nervous smile, and with her hands and lips she encouraged me every step of the way. We made love several times. Each of them was more passionate and loving than the last. We were each other's firsts.
That dawn was the most breathtaking I've ever seen. I was so happy. So... indescribably happy. I wasn't worried about where we came from, or whose side she was on. I was very young and very stupid, and very much in love. I never even considered how foolish I was being. I soon found out that my choices would have consequences when the next night, my comrades followed me to where we lay.
I told them she was merely a whore, that she meant nothing to me. I saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice that she was begging me to tell them that I loved her. But I was prideful, and I thought that if I said nothing, they would leave us alone. One of them asked me if she was good, and I told him she was the best whore I had ever had. She kept her eyes on mine the whole time they raped her, and I never looked away. She cried, and she screamed. She fought very hard, and almost got away. And then she scratched and bit the Hell out of one of them, and they drew their swords. I pushed them away, and killed her myself before they had a chance to. I made it far more painless than they would have. The last look on her face was one of confusion, pain, and somehow, love.
God cursed me that day. For killing the one I loved -- for denying my love for her, and for the death and rape of an innocent -- I would be condemned to eternal life without her. She would be reborn time and time again, and I would never be able to have her. I'd see her from a distance, and never get to touch. She would never love me again. I would never have her.
This lifetime of hers is by far the worst. This time, when she was born, I was designated to her body. Now I not only have to watch her life go by, but I have to be inside her while it happens. While she falls in love without me. When men make love to her, I am there. But when they hurt her, I am also there. And I've found ways of getting through enough to hurt them back, or keep them away before they ever get close. I almost had her, and then this other one came along and fucked it all up for me. Now she's lost again.
That's part of my story.
I was born, as I'm sure is well-known by now, in Assyria during what is now known as the Neo-Assyrian Empire. It is called our most powerful age, where we were at our best in all aspects. But what made us Assyrian, what made us happy, was war. I was bred and born specifically to be a soldier. I did not know my parents, and while that might have mattered to me at some point, it barely registered by the time I was a teenager. I was sent to the barracks early on, and was trained heavily each day in the methods of killing and overtaking. We were conquerers, and I was one of the most ruthless, by far.
I could go on for a long time about skirmishes and battles I fought. But what I think would interest you the most is how my entire life, though it began in violence, truly began instead with love.
Egypt was an enemy of the empire, but it fascinated me nonetheless. I had heard things about the Egyptians, of their gods, their architecture, which plagued my dreams with the possibilities that must lie there. I did not wish to defect or betray my kingdom, and moreover, I doubt the Egyptians would have accepted an Assyrian as anything other than a slave. However, I wished to see it at least once, and several army comrades of mine helped me to travel the distance in order to look from afar.
I met a priestess there. She was very young, with haunting eyes that I will never forget. I was not supposed to be there, and she knew this, but the attraction had already become mutual. We were able to communicate enough to where she could tell me that I reminded her of her god, Anubis. It was the first time I was shown a jackal.
We met a few times thereafter, always careful, always silent. I am, and always have been, a large man. Standing straight, I am 6'8", and very muscular (Amber has compared me to Tyson Beckford in appearance and build). However, I knew how not to be seen or heard, and it served me well. The moment she fell in love with me was one of the happiest days of my life. And when she let me touch her, kiss her, and she lay naked for me, it was all I could do not to tremble at her beauty and elegance. I was so very careful with her, for she appeared so delicate, and felt so soft and warm in my arms that I feared I would crush her. But as I watched her, I saw only a loving, nervous smile, and with her hands and lips she encouraged me every step of the way. We made love several times. Each of them was more passionate and loving than the last. We were each other's firsts.
That dawn was the most breathtaking I've ever seen. I was so happy. So... indescribably happy. I wasn't worried about where we came from, or whose side she was on. I was very young and very stupid, and very much in love. I never even considered how foolish I was being. I soon found out that my choices would have consequences when the next night, my comrades followed me to where we lay.
I told them she was merely a whore, that she meant nothing to me. I saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice that she was begging me to tell them that I loved her. But I was prideful, and I thought that if I said nothing, they would leave us alone. One of them asked me if she was good, and I told him she was the best whore I had ever had. She kept her eyes on mine the whole time they raped her, and I never looked away. She cried, and she screamed. She fought very hard, and almost got away. And then she scratched and bit the Hell out of one of them, and they drew their swords. I pushed them away, and killed her myself before they had a chance to. I made it far more painless than they would have. The last look on her face was one of confusion, pain, and somehow, love.
God cursed me that day. For killing the one I loved -- for denying my love for her, and for the death and rape of an innocent -- I would be condemned to eternal life without her. She would be reborn time and time again, and I would never be able to have her. I'd see her from a distance, and never get to touch. She would never love me again. I would never have her.
This lifetime of hers is by far the worst. This time, when she was born, I was designated to her body. Now I not only have to watch her life go by, but I have to be inside her while it happens. While she falls in love without me. When men make love to her, I am there. But when they hurt her, I am also there. And I've found ways of getting through enough to hurt them back, or keep them away before they ever get close. I almost had her, and then this other one came along and fucked it all up for me. Now she's lost again.
That's part of my story.
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no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 02:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 03:28 am (UTC)Thanks for sharing it.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 07:05 am (UTC)- Auroch
no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 04:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 05:21 am (UTC)And we're glad to have learned a bit more about you. Staying tuned for more. Thanks.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 08:07 am (UTC)- Kathy
no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 06:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 09:18 am (UTC)There are lessons to be learned here. I do hope that this time around, he will learn them. Else, I see another 3000 years awaiting.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-20 09:53 pm (UTC)Be the man she fell in love with, and not the monster that his comrades-in-arms expected. Protect her, but don't hinder her living her life. Let her live, laugh, love. Be her support, not her restraints. If she, at her very core, forgives you and understands why you did what you had to do (and if it is indeed the situation I'm thinking of, she does), then she will come back to you arms.
It is not the Gods that curse a man; the Gods simply laugh as a man curses himself.
--Micchi
no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 12:43 am (UTC)~Locke
no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 08:02 am (UTC)Point being, if we could find a way, so can you. I'm rooting for you.
Tara
Pack Collective
no subject
Date: 2006-11-21 10:47 am (UTC)Cheers,
- Kat