this is my beloved son
May. 10th, 2009 09:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
toujours_nigel
I don't even know. Happy Mother's Day?
Title: this is my beloved son
Characters: Walburga, Sirius
Pairings: please, Merlin, none. I think.
Warnings: pseudo-incest.
Rating: G-PG
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary:
Her son—flesh of her flesh and blood of her blood, long desired, before he ever was conceived, and loved in the abstract before ever she ran gentle hands over his flesh—expelled in a day-long struggle, unwilling to leave the comfort of her dark belly, the nourishing womb that housed him and fed him, goes now against her, flashing her angry eyes back at her from his young face—her father’s face, her brother’s face, her husband’s, his sister’s, all their generations crowding behind him and ranging behind her as they fight—mouthing liberality and equality at her from a mouth that is hers and a mouth she has kissed, till she wants to wind fingers—ivory and bone, and his scratched hands echo and shadow and reflection of his father’s larger and his mother’s more elegant hands—and bring him to his knees, to humiliation and humility and pride in what he is and what is his, and clasp his hands and sink, herself, to her knees in worship and prayer, for this is the son of her body, of her love and her lover’s desire, and the hope of her heart and the heir of her house.
Title: this is my beloved son
Characters: Walburga, Sirius
Pairings: please, Merlin, none. I think.
Warnings: pseudo-incest.
Rating: G-PG
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary:
Her son—flesh of her flesh and blood of her blood, long desired, before he ever was conceived, and loved in the abstract before ever she ran gentle hands over his flesh—expelled in a day-long struggle, unwilling to leave the comfort of her dark belly, the nourishing womb that housed him and fed him, goes now against her, flashing her angry eyes back at her from his young face—her father’s face, her brother’s face, her husband’s, his sister’s, all their generations crowding behind him and ranging behind her as they fight—mouthing liberality and equality at her from a mouth that is hers and a mouth she has kissed, till she wants to wind fingers—ivory and bone, and his scratched hands echo and shadow and reflection of his father’s larger and his mother’s more elegant hands—and bring him to his knees, to humiliation and humility and pride in what he is and what is his, and clasp his hands and sink, herself, to her knees in worship and prayer, for this is the son of her body, of her love and her lover’s desire, and the hope of her heart and the heir of her house.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 05:18 am (UTC)Scary, mildly. But so very pretty.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-10 05:22 am (UTC)dude, my brain is not mine, i just type stuff out.