Paradise of Pleasure

[Armande]

Rowan's shy look at his help, perhaps accentuated by the singularity of her eye, sparked a frison of cool release in him. It was....oddly peaceful. Not like what Valeriya made him feel, the lioness that she was, fire and fight, passion incarnate. It was the other side of the coin, the yin to her yang, black and white, dark and night. Sun and moon.

Maya, looking out through three eyes, holding on to him. The Moon Queen, he thought, trying to understand all of this, a ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Time had telescoped it seemed, as if he had gone somewhere, the moment stretched out to some sort of infinitude ...

Only a second had passed as they began their walk, Valeriya, her tiny calloused hand warm in his, Rowan's cool in the other. He turned to look at his beloved, naked in her majesty, deep smile of contentment beginning to form on his face, when a cry erupted from Rowan, her sudden lurch tugging him down.

His mind shifted and he spun about scanning, looking for the threat. A quivering spear of some sort was plunged deep into the sand where Rowan had been just a moment before. His nostrils flared at the smell of blood and his eyes sought the wound, a tearing at her leg that dripped.

He looked at Valeriya but thankfully she was unharmed, though confusion painted her face.

He turned back and despite her hurt, Rowan was clearly lucid and looking out at the lake. He turned to see some sort of water creature, female in form standing half out of the water, a crown of swords about her head. Memory tickled but nothing concrete came to him as the thing disappeared, only to burst from the surface a few moments later, the large spray and crashing waves making it difficult to see its movements.

His telescoping blade would be useless against it. Maybe one of the god weapons Theiss had supplied him with before they had left Moscow. For any dangers along the way, he had told himself. Not for Rowan. He knew that, now.

Too late he saw a spear flying through the air toward them and he tried to figure its trajectory so he knew who to push out of the way. That was their only chance. Perhaps as it dove down again, they could make it to the camper and get away.

Rowan's hands moved and even as he started to moved towards her to shove her out of the path- it was aimed at her- the spear clanged against something invisible. His eyebrows shot up and he looked at Rowan, surprised.

"Maya," he whispered in awe.

Despite the pain evident in her eyes, her concern was for them.

Incarnation they both might be, but they could bleed and be killed. He felt as if dice rattled in his head, as if pieces of him were in danger.

Without a thought, he scooped Rowan up into his arms, the words "Run Valeriya!" on his lips, the sound of waters crashing behind them as the thing must have resurfaced. He braced for the piercing of a spear through his back, as Valeriya ran in front of him, Rowan held protectively in his arms.

They must live!!

Whatever she had done before still held, it seemed, though he dared not look back to check, for fear of tripping and spilling her onto the rough ground, hurting her more.

They were at the camper in moments and he quickly deposited her onto the couch, confident that Valeriya would tend to her, threw himself into to the console and began their escape.

His heart raced as he waited to feel the vehicle lurch as another spear launched inevitably hit its mark. Thankfully, there was nothing. The bumpy road gave way to pavement, but he still drove on, faster than usual to put as much distance between them and that thing as he could.

"How is she, Valeriya?" he called out to his love, worry evident in his voice, the image of her, wounded and bleeding and having acted to protect them all, asking them if they were safe, burned into his mind.

[Valeriya]

The Eye roamed just a moment before a scream lanced the air. Rowan stumbled, and Vale’s eyes flared wide with surprise. A hiss seethed from Valeriya, and she turned to confront the attacker. From the purity of the lake arose a beautiful creature that Valeriya took for some kind of water snake. Except this one spit sharp teeth.

Vale snatched the spike that sliced open Rowan’s leg and clutched it tight. She started to sprint to the water when she ran smack into an invisible barrier. With her bare hands she banged on the barrier until Armande carried Rowan away. “Let me through!” she seethed with a snarl. “I’m going to kill it! Let me through!” She growled all the way back to the transport, climbing inside just as Armande sped away.

She tended to Rowan, getting her a cloth to bind the wound. “Foolish. You should have let me through. I would have skinned its pretty hide and made myself a leather corset!”  Speaking of, she redressed herself in something more suitable to fighting, just in case anything else jumped up to stab them.

[Rowan Finnegan]

“Ah, but that was my mistake, sister,” Rowan replied dreamily. She wasn’t losing that much blood, but she was starting to feel a little lightheaded. Perhaps it was the excitement. The Power slipped from her grasp as soon as Armande had sped away from the shoreline. That monster mermaid – where had it come from? What was it exactly?

                Vale began binding Rowan’s leg as Armande put as much distance between them and the monster. Rowan began to sit up, but quickly found that such notions were unwise on her part. Instead, she settled back into the cushioned seat and waited for Vale to finish her work.

                “I should have let you try, love,” Rowan was speaking to Vale, although she was staring at the ceiling of the vehicle, “But I only thought of protecting you and Armande. I have never seen a beast such as that… Who is to say what it could be capable of? I will not make that mistake again, sister, I know you are fierce. Is Armande well? It did not strike him, did it?”

                Vale finished dressing Rowan’s wounds and moved off to the rear of the vehicle to change. Rowan stole a glance. She was convinced that Vale could wear anything, anything, in the world and she would still look like a warrior queen. Rowan wanted to change into a clean dress but standing and walking was not on the menu for the moment. Once she could clear her head more, she would settle on using flows of Water and Air to clean the blood and dirt that had covered the bottom half of her skirts. For now, she could not even think of embracing the Power. Instead, she finally mustered the strength to sit up.

[Armande]

Valeriya didn't answer. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He couldn't help the half smile on his lips. The image of her, naked as the day she was born and yet fearless, spear in hand, pounding on whatever Rowan had made, demanding to face that creature...she was glorious.

And probably furious with him, he didn't doubt. Those nails likely wanted to rake his flesh in her frustration. Something he didn't necessarily mind in most circumstances. One did not consort with the likes of her without scars. But it was a fair trade usually. Probably not in this case, though.

Instead, the low hush of shared words between the two came to him. He didn't really hear what was said. He was too far away for much of it. But he caught the gist.

Not that it really mattered, anyway. Something was nagging at him. An uncomfortable feeling. One he needed to tease out. A side road let him pull off into a clearing. The sound of the engine suddenly silent filled the open space with vacuum. Curiously, there was a lull in their conversation. He stood and turned to make his way to the back.

Valeriya was there, dressed in something more sensible than what she had worn before. At least when it came to combat. For some reason, he didn't know if that made him happy or not. Odd.

His eyes went to Rowan, wound bandaged but lower half of her dress red still with blood. His stomach churned. She seemed well enough, though weak. He got a bottle of cold water for them both of them, saying nothing.

The bond between the two was palpable. Something he could almost touch. At times- such as now- he felt an interloper. An outsider. The experience seemed to stab him, though he allowed nothing to show.

It was not like him to run, he knew. Never. And yet without thinking, it was his first inclination. He needed to get Valeriya and Rowan to safety. Yes, they were something beyond. Incarnation. And he loved Valeriya with his entire soul. But he had loved Jova too. And yet they hunted together with never a thought of retreat.

But the feeling of...he couldn't even put his finger on it. Whatever it was, the possibility of losing them, it had overwhelmed him in a way he could not explain. He had to get them to safety.

He studied one, than the other. Sapphire blue and emerald green in turn. He searched for words. For something to say. Maya watched him through three eyes. Night and day. Light and dark.

And yet, the thing lay in the lake. Now that the adrenaline had fled, he could think clearly. It was a danger. Was it one to eliminate now? They were on a mission. Finally, "It seems you both...." For some reason he couldn't say the words. You both are my undoing. A slight shake of the head. Regroup.

Something of what they had said had filtered to him. A small smile as he looked to Valeriya, his uncertainty hidden in a mask of bravado. "When we return from our quest, beloved, I have no doubt the creature will fall at your hand." Not that he was interested to watch her skin the thing. Still, it was their way.

He looked at Rowan, voice warm. "Would you like help to the back?" He wasn't sure why he trod so carefully. He expected Valeriya to be the one to help, but that was up to her. There was a delicate nascent balance here. Of what, he wasn't sure. And he knew it would only take one wrong step to shatter it.

[Valeriya]

Vale kept a hand on her sister’s shoulder, ready to shove her senseless skeleton back into a resting position. A glance over her shoulder confirmed her awareness of her great love. ”Armande is well.” She said, relieved that both were going to be okay. She would never allow anything to happen to her great loves.

After some time, their transport came to a halt. Armande fell back to tend to Rowan. She was glad that he was coming to accept her. She understood the warnings Armande explained about the magicks of those unable to contain it, but Lord Rasputin wielded magicks of his own, and he was their revered lord. Armande was his incarnation returned to save them as the Eye foresaw. She understood the warnings, but could not believe they applied to Rowan. Her sister was Awakened. A Khylsty.

His admonition that the creature would fall at her feet resulted in a snort. He’d not seen her in battle. Valeriya was one to be feared, not encouraged.

Still, she stepped back to allow him enough space to help Rowan as she needed it. She did not go far as her hands slipped around his waist. His strong back was reassuring. Not that she needed it.

[Rowan Finnegan]

Rowan smiled at Vale, her beloved, before looking to the woman’s hand on her shoulder. It was apparent she did not think that Rowan should rise. Settling back, due to the other woman’s insistence, Rowan resigned herself to resting on the cushioned seat of the caravan. Every few moments she tried embracing the Light, but to no avail. After five minutes of futile attempts, Rowan resigned herself to a dirty dress. She would change into something more enticing once Vale had permitted her to rise.

                But then Armande came over to them. He proffered a hand and a warm tone, aiding Rowan in her desire to stand from the cheap, cushioned seating of the RV. Maintaining a calm grace, Rowan spoke in honeyed tones, “Yes, I would like that very much.”

                The long sleeved, white, cotton dress sounded like a dream at that moment; not a stitch of embellishment, just plain cut confidence. It would cover her wounds and add a certain air of modesty, while maintaining a light hold on her body. She would pair it with her cotton shawl, of course, and perhaps the opals set in silver… Her hair would be worn freely, of course.

                “Please, do not let us stop on my account. We have a destiny to unfurl,” Rowan spoke in those same honeyed tones, already standing with Armande’s hand in hers.

[Armande]

The atmosphere changed. A charge in the air electrified around him. Rowan stood, her hand shakey in his palm, warm and silky smooth, blue eyes peering up at him with...trust, he saw. And it warmed him.

He felt warmth at his back, hot breath and the snake of Valeriya's hands around his waist, leaned back against her, finding comfort in the feel of her body against his. He felt owned, bookended by the truth behind it all, before and behind. Safe.

The pressure around him built and his free hand drifted down to touch Valeriya's-

His eyes widened and the smell of ozone amid the windy cool salt tanged sea air filled his flaring nostrils. The dome of cobalt hung over them, moon fat and low and shining, bathing them in a ghostly silver blue on some beach out of a dream.

The wet sand compressed beneath his feat at each step, sharp granules digging into his heel.

Two angels stood on either side of him, hair of brightest light, of darkest night, seeming to drift slow and lazy on the breeze of a storm from far over the sea. Flashes of lightning in the distance lit them up, green and blue, earth and water, the beauty from beyond.

Their hands in his hands, he was home.

[Valeriya]

Their fingers entwined, and Valeriya was pulled around the trunk of Armande's hardened, muscled body. She smiled warmly when her great love laid all three of their hands together, and then suddenly, their surroundings faded to black. 

She was near Rowan, cloaked in white and silver as pure as the moon. Valeriya was drenched in shadows obsidian as her hair. Each of them held a spool of thread that was being unwound quickly. The thread was pulled so hard, she could hardly hold it else it was wrenched from her hands. Following the line delicate as a spider's web, a pair of disembodied hands worked in the darkness. The hands were rugged, scarred, strong and swift. She knew with a look whose they were and her soul exploded with affection.

He worked the threads with grace and agility, throwing up the resulting pattern into the air over their heads. A pattern took shape into some tapestry that Valeriya squinted to behold. Then there was a ripping. She gasped and looked down at her dress, realizing that the thread now pulled from her very clothing. Soon she was completely unclothed, and she did not need to look to guess Rowan would be the same. From their very backs the tapestry was finished and the hands came forward, stretched out as though to choke her. 

Instead, from the shadows emerged the rest of the body. It was Armande's. Svelt, muscular and beautiful. She stretched for him as well. 

[Rowan Finnegan]

Armande’s hand reached down to clasp Vale’s, at that same moment, Vale reached down to clasp Rowan’s free hand. They three formed a lop-sided triangle of sorts, all hands clumsily clasped as one. Rowan looked up to Vale and – reality shuddered.


                The Eyes saw. Black and White on a silvery beach, the gibbous moon hanging above. Thick, heavy spools of light danced between the Eyes and the King’s hand grasped at the threads. With a deft hand, he wove their fate. With a tender touch, he wove they three together. Body and soul.

                The weaving grew around them. A tapestry of light hung in the air with a delicate hand. Veins of gold surged out into the weaving. The tapestry grew until the Eyes saw nothing but. The tapestry vibrated and retreated back into the King – but still - veins of gold connected the King to the Eyes that see.

                The King reached out and caressed the Eyes, their pale bodies melting at his touch. He came upon them with vigor and virility. Flesh met flesh, a triad of desire. The veins of gold seemed to weave itself around their writhing forms as three became one.



                Reality shuddered.

                Rowan had found that the vision – if it could be called that – had been a mirror of what they had begun in the waking world. The three of them had amassed into a sweaty entanglement on the carpeted floor of the camper. Not an unpleasant turn of events. She filed the thought away as one of their hands found a particularly soft spot. Abandoning all virtue, Rowan threw her head back and let out a moan, losing herself in the throes of ecstasy.

                Reality seemed to shudder once more, but this time it was not due to a vision.

[Armande]

Armande suddered as the world around him...warped. For a moment, the cobalt sky, the silvery moon, the black ocean, and white tipped waves, and the glowing white sands all shifted resolution, the warp and woof stitching of reality somehow visible.

He looked at the twin Goddesses before him, and beheld them in all their glory. Valeriya, The Eye of the Khylsty, flash and fire, passion and huntress incarnate. Rowan, The Voodoo Queen, rooted and heart of peace, the earth mother. One entity, two forms. It was too large to be held in one person. The words of the Lord Krishna to Arjuna came to him.

These are just a small number
of my infinite manifestations;
were I to tell you more,
there would be no end to the telling.

Look, Arjuna: thousands,
millions of my divine forms,
beings of all kinds and sizes,
of every color and shape.

The whole universe, all things
animate or inanimate,
are gathered here—look!—enfolded
inside my infinite body.

He beheld but a fragment of the reality behind the universe, here behind the eyes of these two women. Divinity beyond knowing. And yet it was but a fragment, one that his finite mind could only barely comprehend. What it could concentrate on in that single solitary moment of space and time. 

He felt himself reach out, only to notice the same threading in his own hands. Of course. The threads of himself touched that of the space between them, the air and the the fabric behind it, seeming to lengthen into tiny filaments that snaked out..

Those threads from his hands lightly settled on Valeriya and Rowan and electricity jolted him to his core. He seemed to vibrate as if connected to the fiery heart of the universe, and the threads of them, flowed through his fingers that moved of their own accord, somehow those from his Loves woven into the reality, each strand, each new stitch of the forming tapestry glowing bright and gold, as a pattern, came into being, created from all of them.

His heart raced faster with each pulse, as each thread was laid down and placed them, until all of them- the world, Rowan and Valeriya, and himself were all one, the vision fading into mist...

and Armande felt Valeriya and Rowan against his body, naked skin to naked skin, warm and hard and soft and cool. Twin faces merged and morphed, both to one then the other and then back. Night and day, hot and cold, dark and light, sour and sweet, spice and cool. The three of them, entwined, limbs entangled, mouths and hands, fingers and tongues, indistinguishable so he could not rightly tell where he ended or where Rowan or Valeriya began, their flesh enmeshed.

They were all one, even if it was Rowan who brought Valeriya to fiery cries and the drumming of heels, if it was him for whom Rowan bit her lip until he could taste blood on it, even if it was his teeth marks on Valeriya's neck, or it was Rowan's jagged scratches on his back.

All of them- the unity of them- as one being until, spent, hard muscle and soft curves slick with sweat, racing hearts slowing to a gallop and then to a canter and then to a walk, covered solely in the warm humid air, bodies still entwined, sleep came.