![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
person4Title: Come To Me In Weakness
Fandom: Hitherby Dragons
Characters: Mylitta and Nabonidus
Notes: For June fic-a-day
Let him be weak, Mylitta thought as she lay bound to the alter in the temple of Sin, as Nabonidus works at her with knives and fire and sometimes nothing more than his hands, ripping a god from her body. The thought was not a prayer, for she could no longer remember any god that hadn't come from her aside from White Lion, and that was not the way he offered to help her. And it was not a wish, for though she did not allow herself to break she was too empty now for the fervor of wishing.
It was only a thought, one that she repeated to herself through all the long days of pain. Let him be weak. Let Belshazzar devour his nature so there will be no more Monster and he'll have stars in his eyes once more. Let me have my Elli and let us go someplace far from here, where we can have a hundred days of love for every one that's been spent in pain and have children that are not gods or Monsters, heroes or people of the salt, but something else entirely.
Her entire body tensed and as at last he tore the newest god from her. She caught a glimpse of great jagged metal wings before her sight was blurred from the pain of being left raw, ripped open, and just a little more empty. She could feel the yarrow rod where her heart should be bending, threatening to splinter, but she caught herself and held fast. For so long as there was life in her, Mylitta would not allow herself to break. Not so long as there was the slimmest chance the Nabonidus might someday become Elli once more.
When she returned to herself he was wiping the blood from her with cool wet towels, gently, tenderly, as if he wasn't the one who had caused it to flow to begin with. As if he wouldn't be repeating those actions soon enough.
One day I promise he will-- she began, then cut the thought off unfinished. Even within the privacy of her own mind she would not dare to make that promise.
She didn't think she could bear the pain of it if she made that promise only to feel wings begin to grow from her back.
Fandom: Hitherby Dragons
Characters: Mylitta and Nabonidus
Notes: For June fic-a-day
Let him be weak, Mylitta thought as she lay bound to the alter in the temple of Sin, as Nabonidus works at her with knives and fire and sometimes nothing more than his hands, ripping a god from her body. The thought was not a prayer, for she could no longer remember any god that hadn't come from her aside from White Lion, and that was not the way he offered to help her. And it was not a wish, for though she did not allow herself to break she was too empty now for the fervor of wishing.
It was only a thought, one that she repeated to herself through all the long days of pain. Let him be weak. Let Belshazzar devour his nature so there will be no more Monster and he'll have stars in his eyes once more. Let me have my Elli and let us go someplace far from here, where we can have a hundred days of love for every one that's been spent in pain and have children that are not gods or Monsters, heroes or people of the salt, but something else entirely.
Her entire body tensed and as at last he tore the newest god from her. She caught a glimpse of great jagged metal wings before her sight was blurred from the pain of being left raw, ripped open, and just a little more empty. She could feel the yarrow rod where her heart should be bending, threatening to splinter, but she caught herself and held fast. For so long as there was life in her, Mylitta would not allow herself to break. Not so long as there was the slimmest chance the Nabonidus might someday become Elli once more.
When she returned to herself he was wiping the blood from her with cool wet towels, gently, tenderly, as if he wasn't the one who had caused it to flow to begin with. As if he wouldn't be repeating those actions soon enough.
One day I promise he will-- she began, then cut the thought off unfinished. Even within the privacy of her own mind she would not dare to make that promise.
She didn't think she could bear the pain of it if she made that promise only to feel wings begin to grow from her back.