Blood Challenge: Scelero by Brighid
May. 3rd, 2005 06:22 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mz-bstone.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficChallenge: Blood
Title: Scelero
Spoilers: None, really
Rating: Adult
Author: Brighid
Summary: There will be blood.
Scelero
by Brighid
Nanaea will bleed for her people. She has waited into her third circling after menarche, living in the temple, waiting for the Water to bring the Fathers to them, the Gift to them. The longest any girl waits is five circlings, and there have been many girls gone five circlings each but no Fathers have ever come, no Gift. Nanaea had not expected it to come in her lifetime; she had been counting the harvests until she might be freed, until she might finally drop her veil and look at Enlil and drink his wine and take his bed.
But today the watchman came crying into the city, and the Moon's Sisters rang the bells, high and low. Now the city streets are suddenly filled with flowers and the songs of drums and bells. Nanaea is taken to the baths to be washed inside and out and made ready. The Moon's Sisters paint her dark skin with twisting withy and open-mouthed flowers. They scent her hair and belly and thighs with sweetgold blossom. Inan herself paints her lips and the nipples of her high, small breasts a red as deep and rich as a vulva. At the very last they change her white veil for one the colour of First Blood. And then they leave her, sitting on the low cushions, waiting for the Father.
Nanaea will bleed for her people.
She is surprised to find that he is not what she has expected, to realize she had been expecting anything at all. He smells like her own father, after a day at work, and he has lines around his eyes and mouth like he's tired and a little out of patience. He has nice hands, and hair. She thinks they will be nice to touch, that they will feel sweet against her, not unlike she had imagined Enlil's touch would be.
She shifts on the cushions, lets her legs part, and watches him through painted lashes.
He looks at her directly only for a minute and then turns to the door and pounds on it and he's saying, "No fucking way, no fucking way!" She stands then, goes over to him and tries to win his attention back. She touches his hip and turns him around, then takes his hand and helps him to draw the veil away from her ripe, red mouth.
"Either way there will be blood," she says at last. His eyes are the colour of the small water that runs behind Enlil's house, brown and green and deep. They are sad eyes, and angry.
"I can't," he says. "You're just a baby."
"I am twelve circlings," she says, not a baby at all. She has already said good-bye to Enlil, to his wine and his bed. "And there will be blood, either way." She stands on her toes and kisses him, smears his mouth red. His body is a hard, angry line arrowing away, but his hands on her shoulders are gentle as he pushes her back.
"No," he says. "You're just a baby, no and no and hell no!" he shouts to the door and finally the Moon's Sisters come in and lead him away. The Sun's Brothers come after them, and they lift Nanaea up and carry her out into the world for the first time in three circlings.
When she sees the Father again she is standing in the fields, and he is with three others, dressed like him. Her Father's people, as she is not. Still, she feels his eyes find her, and she watches his body tense in sudden understanding as the Sun's Brothers hold her spread wide, as Inan of the Moon's Sisters takes her Last Blood with a single, fierce thrust of the blade.
She does not cry out, but he does, and his voice is loud and ragged and endless as each thrust goes deeper, as she becomes another type of offering: one of repentance for being found unworthy.
Either way, there is blood.
That is the heart of all things.
Nanaea bleeds for her people.
*0*
End
Title: Scelero
Spoilers: None, really
Rating: Adult
Author: Brighid
Summary: There will be blood.
Scelero
by Brighid
Nanaea will bleed for her people. She has waited into her third circling after menarche, living in the temple, waiting for the Water to bring the Fathers to them, the Gift to them. The longest any girl waits is five circlings, and there have been many girls gone five circlings each but no Fathers have ever come, no Gift. Nanaea had not expected it to come in her lifetime; she had been counting the harvests until she might be freed, until she might finally drop her veil and look at Enlil and drink his wine and take his bed.
But today the watchman came crying into the city, and the Moon's Sisters rang the bells, high and low. Now the city streets are suddenly filled with flowers and the songs of drums and bells. Nanaea is taken to the baths to be washed inside and out and made ready. The Moon's Sisters paint her dark skin with twisting withy and open-mouthed flowers. They scent her hair and belly and thighs with sweetgold blossom. Inan herself paints her lips and the nipples of her high, small breasts a red as deep and rich as a vulva. At the very last they change her white veil for one the colour of First Blood. And then they leave her, sitting on the low cushions, waiting for the Father.
Nanaea will bleed for her people.
She is surprised to find that he is not what she has expected, to realize she had been expecting anything at all. He smells like her own father, after a day at work, and he has lines around his eyes and mouth like he's tired and a little out of patience. He has nice hands, and hair. She thinks they will be nice to touch, that they will feel sweet against her, not unlike she had imagined Enlil's touch would be.
She shifts on the cushions, lets her legs part, and watches him through painted lashes.
He looks at her directly only for a minute and then turns to the door and pounds on it and he's saying, "No fucking way, no fucking way!" She stands then, goes over to him and tries to win his attention back. She touches his hip and turns him around, then takes his hand and helps him to draw the veil away from her ripe, red mouth.
"Either way there will be blood," she says at last. His eyes are the colour of the small water that runs behind Enlil's house, brown and green and deep. They are sad eyes, and angry.
"I can't," he says. "You're just a baby."
"I am twelve circlings," she says, not a baby at all. She has already said good-bye to Enlil, to his wine and his bed. "And there will be blood, either way." She stands on her toes and kisses him, smears his mouth red. His body is a hard, angry line arrowing away, but his hands on her shoulders are gentle as he pushes her back.
"No," he says. "You're just a baby, no and no and hell no!" he shouts to the door and finally the Moon's Sisters come in and lead him away. The Sun's Brothers come after them, and they lift Nanaea up and carry her out into the world for the first time in three circlings.
When she sees the Father again she is standing in the fields, and he is with three others, dressed like him. Her Father's people, as she is not. Still, she feels his eyes find her, and she watches his body tense in sudden understanding as the Sun's Brothers hold her spread wide, as Inan of the Moon's Sisters takes her Last Blood with a single, fierce thrust of the blade.
She does not cry out, but he does, and his voice is loud and ragged and endless as each thrust goes deeper, as she becomes another type of offering: one of repentance for being found unworthy.
Either way, there is blood.
That is the heart of all things.
Nanaea bleeds for her people.
*0*
End
