Pawns of Olympus

Aegina’s lips were in a full pout as she walked along the beach near her home. Not married even six months and her husband, the ever brave and strong Tyre was off to fight a magical man-eating rabbit or some such shit. Sure, he’d been a perfect match when they were younger, hell; he’d been a perfect match about six months ago. But now that he had a wife, had a constant bed partner, had someone to attend to his every whim...

She kicked the sand in front of her. He had run off to earn himself glory and a place in every serving girl’s bed! Aegina wouldn’t kid herself about that. Tyre was a glorious lover, attentive and passionate, but he was also a very demanding one. And he’d been away for a month already.

But he was a man, and men could get whatever they wanted, so long as Zeus ruled heaven and she wasn’t an Amazon.

Which he did and which she wasn’t. Aegina gave another half-hearted kick to the offending sand and continued on her amble down the beach. Her dark eyes stared broodingly out over the green-blue ocean.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have needs, either. He was worse than Midas, just leaving her wasting away like this. Night after lonely night, she’d be left in the dark, staring at the walls of their modest home, no one to scratch those womanly itches.

To put it extremely bluntly, Aegina was horny as Hades. And her gods-damned husband had the libido (and loyalty) of a mortal Zeus.

She looked forlornly at the sand covering her sandaled feet, too apathetic to bother kicking it any more. It was white, and fine, Mediterranean sand. The sand of her home, her life. Poseidon’s waters were her first love, and with Tyre off gallivanting, her only love.

Love, love, love. She didn’t want love, not at the moment. She figured one day after the other was all she could ask for, now that she was a wife. Wives couldn’t ask for much.

Bitter? Gods forbid she be bitter!

Or lonely.

The “beauty of the beach” left out to dry by her stallion of a husband. It was a sad, ironic tale of seduction and lust, and there was little left over when it was all said and done. Aegina should’ve known better. But Tyre’s golden curls and strong hands had been so enticing, his father so prominent, and the house so wonderfully located.

At least she had the house. And its wonderful view.

Musing on such thoughts, Aegina didn’t notice the obstacle in her path until she had tripped over it, landing on hands and knees.

“Hades! I’ll have sand in my dress for a week!” She cursed to no one. Irritated, she stood up and whirled around, prepared to fling a piece of driftwood back into the sea. Instead, she gasped and fell backward, landing gracefully on her backside.

From the ground, she had a better view of the dead man lying in the sand. “Fates be feared,” she whispered, eyes wide in shock.

He laid face turned towards the early afternoon sky, arms stretched almost perpendicular to his body; the water lapped at his feet. What once might have been loose trousers of some sort had been shredded into not much more than a loin cloth, anything that had covered his chest had been torn away completely. His skin was a ghostly pale grey, his fingertips completely black. A thick shock of matted black hair fanned out around his head, contrasting with his sickly complexion.

Aegina scuttled backwards as if she were a crab, partially numb from shock and a good dose of fear.

It was then the corpse groaned.

Aegina yelped and froze in her tracks. The man shifted his head to look fuzzily at her, his thick hair falling over his eyes and obscuring his vision. He started to speak, but instead he vomited up some sea water. For an instant he seemed to perceive her presence, however the moment passed and his strength failed him, rendering him unconscious again.

Finally, Aegina snapped out of her trance and rushed over to the man. She laid her ear against the man’s chest, listening carefully for any trace of life. His heart beat was faint but steady; he was alive.

“Praise the gods,” she muttered, “today is your fortunate day, dead man.”

She glanced up and down the expanse of beach, but there was no one else in sight.

“Of course, the gods always seem to give me a hard time. I dream of companionship, I receive an invalid. Whom, I might add,”Aegina braced herself in the sand, grabbing the man’s hands and attempting to drag him completely out of the water, “is incredibly heavy.”

For the first time in all her years on the coast, Aegina realized just how far the beach was from the houses, and she once more blessed the gods for having a well beaten path back to the village.

Even so, it was a good while later that she made it that far. The sun which had been high in the sky when she found him was dangerously close to the horizon, the colors of dusk beginning to soften her surroundings. By the time Aegina reached her home, beads of sweat covered her brow and her dress was damp where it touched her skin. She heaved her charge over the threshold, and, with a mighty effort, pulled him over to the only bed in the small house.

The bed was only raised off the ground about six inches, but Aegina knew she’d never get him on it by herself. After sitting for a bit and regaining some energy, she ran over to the neighboring house to enlist Phaeros’ help. His wife, Leta, a local healer of sorts, also thought it best to tag along.

“Gods!” Phaeros breathed when he cast his eye upon Aegina’s find. “Where’d you get him?”

“He washed up on the beach. I pulled him all the way here,” she replied, barely stifling a yawn.

“Well, let me take a look at him!” Leta pushed her way into the two room house. “What are you waiting for, man? Get him up on the bed! I can’t work with him on the ground like this.”

Phaeros shook his head, his wife’s antics no longer bossy, but familiar. Still, he quickly deposited the half drowned man on to the bed and moved away so Leta could attend to the victim. Aegina simply sunk to the ground and leaned against the wall, exhausted.

Leta turned around, rubbing her hands on the loose dress she wore. She looked a disapprovingly down at Aegina’s seat, but Aegina was too tired to even care.

“Well, he’s about half drowned and half starved, but with a lot of rest and more food, he should be just fine. He’ll probably sleep all night, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he needed a bit of nourishment in the morning.”

Aegina nodded sleepily, concentrating just enough to mask a second yawn. Phaeros, looking on sympathetically, stood by the door.

Leta began again, “If you need me to stay, I’d be more than happy...”

“No, no, I’ll be fine.” Aegina rose slowly to her feet, then straightened, smiling. “I feel as if the gods placed him in my hands for a reason. But I’d appreciate it if you could check him again tomorrow, if he wakes up.”

“Certainly, child. Come on, Phaeros. No more idling! It’s almost dark and you still need to catch the chickens.” With that, Leta strode out of Aegina’s house, almost as if she were the queen of the gods herself.

“Yes, dear.” Phaeros gave Aegina a quick nod of parting before he, too, returned home.

She sighed. A woman’s work was never finished. Her feet sore and her eyes dangerously near to closing, she tottered into the kitchen and storeroom of her house. She took her dinner into the living space and returned for wood to build a fire. Outside it was almost completely dark.

Aegina barely remembered to get a blanket off the bed for herself before lying down. As she reached for the one folded at the foot, she finally got a good look at her sleeping companion. He looked rather peaceful as he slept, his breathing shallow but steady. His eyes were shut but even so she noticed their unusual slanted shape. She wondered if his eyes were as dark as his hair.

She wondered where he was from, and whether his family knew he was missing. She wondered what kind of family he had, if he had a wife and children, and as she lay there, alone again on the hard floor, she couldn’t help but wondering what kind of lover he was.

Despite being drop dead tired when she went to sleep, Aegina was up at dawn, doing the chores that were expected of her. She bustled around the little house, doing everything the good wife should, sweeping out the sand, and hurrying to cook dinner before the heat of the day. Every now and then, she looked over at the sleeping man in her bed, praying that he would be all right.

“Hellooooo,” crowed Leta through the cracked open door.

In the kitchen, Aegina grimaced, but quickly greeted the local healer who served double duty as the local busybody.

“I just thought I’d better check up on our invalid,” Leta rambled, “Still asleep is he? And still dressed in those rags? Have you checked for other wounds?” Leta’s voice was full of disdain, and for once Aegina didn’t feel resentful.

“I..uh, I must have forgotten to do that in the hurry to bring him here,” she replied. It was no excuse, but it was better to say something than to simply let Leta’s haughty glare drive her into the ground.

“Well, let’s get to work then.” Leta pulled away the light blanket Aegina had placed on the man and stared blankly at the unusual garment adorning his waist and legs. “Interesting. I wonder how it comes off.”

“Perhaps if you pull?” Aegina suggested.

“That might work.”

There was a long silence as they both looked dubiously down at the piece of cloth.

“What are you waiting for, girl? A lightning bolt? Pull!”

Aegina stifled an expression of disgust for her neighbor as she bent and tugged on the garment. It didn’t budge.

“Pull harder! You’ll never get them off like that.”

Her mouth twitched, but she gave another hard tug on the fabric. This time there was a loud ripping sound as her handhold gave way.

“Well?” Aegina barely managed to keep the bitter sarcasm from the question. Leta’s forehead wrinkled as she frowned.

“Fetch a knife; we’re going to cut him out of that barbaric thing.”

Aegina handed Leta her best knife and watched as the older woman carefully tried to cut the few seams that held the cloth together. The whole thing fell apart with a satisfying snap. Leta gathered the scraps and held them out for Aegina to take.

“Take these outside and burn them, the gods know what...oh my!”

Aegina’s focus instantly shifted from the rags to the now naked man on the bed and let out a gasp of her own.

He was huge. Impossibly huge. If he were married, Aegina suspected his wife would have to be a titan to accommodate him.

Her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed, Leta quickly threw the thin blanket back over him. “I didn’t see any wounds, did you?”

Aegina shook her head, mute.

“Well, um,” for once in her life, the older woman was at a loss for words. Recovering quickly, she started giving orders. “Brew up some light broth in case he gets hungry, and have a bowl of water by the bed for him to drink. I’d brush out his hair, if I were you, only the gods know what sort of vermin could be living in that thick mess.”

“Yes, Leta,” she responded like the dutiful woman she was.

“I’ll be going now, but if you need me, don’t hesitate to come for me. I’d hate to have a death in the village, especially after all this trouble.”

Aegina nodded and ushered the busybody out the door. That woman, she thought to herself, is so officious and domineering she just makes me want to hit her!

A groan from the bed made her rush over to it. Hastily, she slipped a hand under his matted bangs feeling his forehead for any sign of fever. When there was none, she dropped her hand in relief and noticed the most magnificent pair of eyes staring at her from under sleep-heavy lids.

They were gold. Not a yellowish fake gold, or an orangey one, but pure shining gold. His black lashes slowly lowered, diluting their color, but Aegina’s breath was still caught in her throat. There was no one under Mt. Olympus with eyes like that.

He sunk back into a deep slumber, and Aegina set to making the broth Leta had recommended, bathing his face in cool water, and combing through the tangled mass of black hair. As she worked, she could sometimes feel him stirring, a good sign for a man that almost died. Finally, when his hair gleamed in the late morning sunlight, Aegina was satisfied. She sat on the bed with his head in her lap idly caressing his forehead, staring out of the open doorway.

“Hun..gry...”

The word was faint, but it still made Aegina’s head snap around. The wondrous eyes were slitted, barely opened, but they stared up at her with a shining intensity.

“Food...” he croaked again.

Trying not to disturb his head, she reached for the soup she’d left at the side of the bed. She lowered the bowl carefully and pressed it to his lips, but he only turned his head and buried his face in her knee.

“So hungry...” He looked at her again, but his eyes had become unfocused and soon he dropped back into unconsciousness.

Confused, Aegina sat there, floundering inwardly, wondering if her charge would ever wake up. There were so many things she wanted to know about him, but she worried that she would never have the chance to ask. She felt completely helpless.

The day passed with Aegina cleaning and worrying, with the man occasionally asking for food but continually refusing whatever she tried to feed him. She even visited Leta looking for advice, but all she got was criticism. So she kept doing what she was doing, tired of the routine, tired of her sea shore life, tired of being the good girl, the obedient wife, and the concerned neighbor.

That night she slipped into a light cotton shift, a souvenir from Tyre’s adventures in Egypt, and sunk to her knees on her blankets, face turned towards the heavens.

“Please, just let this monotony end!”

She lowered her head, covered her face with her dainty hands and began to sob softly, mindful of her invalid. It didn’t take her long to fall asleep; she had worried herself into exhaustion. At first she dreamt of her childhood, of her innocence, of the days when she didn’t feel like she had been categorized, shoved aside. But as the bitterness melted away with sleep, she dreamt of Tyre and how they had loved.

They were walking on the beach, the wind tousling their hair. His strong arms had lifted her on to one of the large boulders along the beach. He kissed her then, hard, passionately, impatiently, and she kissed back with equal force, needing the heat between them.

Only half consciously, Aegina caressed herself as though her hands were those in her dream. Her fingers skimmed over the fabric teasing the soft skin under it. They slipped around the sides of her breasts, tickling across her stomach, stroking the tops of her thighs. He was practically real to her now; leaning over her, his hands kneading her breasts. His long tapered fingers slid along her jaw and traced their way back down her throat. The black finger tips moved in slow, tantalizing circles around her areolas. They flicked across dark nipples drawn tight with arousal. Aegina whimpered. Tyre’s lips smothered the semi-silent pleas, the ravenous hunger overtaking them both. He laid her back on that sunny rock by the beach, his shimmering gold eyes looking into her liquid chocolate ones.

As if a cool ocean breeze had sprung up, the fog in Eiro’s mind began to dissipate. He could feel the awareness dawning on him; something was pushing back the encompassing slumber. His nostrils flared. The scent was so familiar. Hunger gnawed at him and he remembered. Gold eyes opened with shining clarity for the first time in days. His muscles ached as he turned, eyes trying to find the source of that scintillating fragrance.

Aegina lay on the floor, limbs trembling, as the fantasy tried to overtake her. Gold eyes, onyx hair, they consumed her mind and left her body wanting. Eiro licked dry lips watching her toss in frustration. She’d forgive him, wouldn’t she? Who would dare deny a starving man?

Bones creaking, Eiro slid out of bed. His movements were stiff at first, but as his muscles loosened, they became fluid and feline. He crawled over to the oblivious young woman, her scent becoming more powerful, more enticing as he drew near. The cotton night shirt clung to Aegina’s damp skin, outlining her swollen breasts and narrow waist. She had twisted until the hem was brushing the tops of her thighs, almost up around her hips. Her legs were splayed and while one hand fondled and pinched a breast, another set of delicate fingers traced the slick entrance to her channel. As she brushed over the sensitive nub that brought a shudder of ecstasy, Aegina felt another gentle pressure on her hand, pulling it away from its pleasurable task.

Eiro smiled at her when her eyes snapped open. He brought her juice covered fingers to his lips. Deliberately, he licked off every drop of honey, savoring his first tastes of her sweet ambrosia.

Aegina nearly screamed as his head began to dip lower, the man’s intent clear enough. She tried to scramble away, but his strong hands had caught her thighs and held her still. Eiro hovered inches away from his goal, breathing in the intoxicating odor of her sex. She watched the black head resting between her legs, unsure if she even wanted to get away. He raised those gold eyes to stare into her confused frightened, frustrated ones and Aegina saw only hunger. Their gazes still locked, Eiro opened his mouth and extended his tongue. Aegina’s eyes widened in disbelief as she thought she saw it lengthen, the normal pink color fading into black. He grinned at her shock; they were rarely ever awake when he fed.

Finally he dropped his head to the glistening folds beneath him. Aegina couldn’t restrain a gasp as his tongue dragged along her slit. With maddening slowness, Eiro lapped at her honey. On his third pass, she stopped struggling, barely able to control herself. Under his hands, Eiro could feel her thighs relax and he momentarily ceased feasting to smile knowingly to himself. Aegina whimpered, desperate for some sort of release. That was all the encouragement Eiro needed.

Her head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted trying to breath. When his tongue entered her, she thrust her hips up towards him. It felt as if he were trying to clean her, his tongue scraping at her insides, every fold and muscle being lashed repeatedly.

As his tongue continued its blissful torture, Aegina could feel his hands moving up her heated skin. Each point of contact was an icy caress that made her body shiver. His fingers, she could have sworn they slithered as they slid underneath her shift and migrated towards her breasts. Everything ached, ached with sweet agony. She needed to be touched everywhere, she needed this exquisite pain.

The first finger ran along the underside of one breast, the faint movement making her arch her back. They circled like vultures, tasting every olive tinted inch of her bosom, swooping in when she was most vulnerable. Aegina’s moans grew louder and louder until they faded into whimpers, her voice unable to find adequate expression for the incredible sensations. When she thought that there was nothing more she could possibly experience, a fingertip latched onto the tip of a nipple and began to suckle.

With a shriek, her world exploded. Her body and mind flew apart; her spirit reached the top of Olympus. In that one moment she was able to peek into the private lives of gods and goddesses, she felt Aphrodite’s shining glory, understood only the secrets that Athena could perceive, flew faster than Hermes, struck harder than any of Zeus’s thunderbolts. She floated there, until slowly, slowly, she drifted back to her pallet on the floor. Eiro’s head was still nestled between her legs, making sure he drank down every drop of her nectar, his first real meal in days. Aegina felt more than weak, she was drained, boneless. No one had ever made her feel like that. She didn’t even attempt to lift her head, she didn’t care that he was a man that had washed up on the beach; she was swimming in the ocean of fulfilled desires and had no intent of returning to reality before absolutely necessary. Slowly, Aegina succumbed to Selene’s serene embrace, sleep coming over her like the goddess’ starry cloak of night.