Bright Lily and the Monster

On an auspicious evening, when the moon was perfectly new and the Heavens were glittering in just the right way, three sisters were born and, being born, were conscripted instantly into their destinies.

It was foretold to the Emperor that, should three girls be born on this particularly prophetic night, he could assign their fates within an hour of their birth and make sure those fates came to pass. Should he succeed, the Kingdom would be guaranteed prosperity for the next millennia. Should he fail, he and his people would know misery and terror as they could not imagine. It was his choice – leave his lands to chance, or grip the skein of Fate with his glorious hand and risk disaster.

Being Emperor, he chose the latter, naturally.

They were triplets, but they did have their order. In accordance with ancient lore, the eldest was actually the one who emerged last from her mother. She, called Peach Blossom, was held by the Emperor not ten minutes after she was born, and he declared her fate – she should become the most gifted musician in all of his lands, and her music should enchant all who heard it, so that she would always be beloved and admired.

The middle child, named Sweet Plum, was told by the Emperor that she would be the most graceful dancer ever to tread his lands. Her dancing would be such a wondrous sight to behold that all would sigh and smile to see her.

The youngest daughter was named Bright Lily, and the emperor stated proudly that she would be the most learned and clever of anyone living in his provinces. She would be so wise and knowledgeable that all who heard her words would feel the grace of the Celestial Sovereigns upon them, and she would be revered for her brilliance.

All this would have been very well, except that Bright Lily, being newly born and not aware of proper etiquette, decided to relieve herself while Emperor held her. His robes were doused with a spray of infant urine, and he gasped in shock. Everyone in the room gasped - it was, to date, the most horrendous act of insult ever committed on an Emperor.

The offended party stared down at the little, squirming bundle who had dared to abuse him in such away. His cheeks grew hot and, for a moment, he considered dashing the baby to the ground and killing her then and there. But, he recalled, that would ensure the ruin and misery of his kingdom. So, for a moment, he simply raged behind his silky beard. Finally, he hit upon an idea.

"In addition to your wisdom and learning," the Emperor hissed at Bright Lily, "you will also marry a monster on your eighteenth birthday, and he will tear your flesh and bathe in your blood."

The girls' father cried out in anguish and their mother swooned, for already they loved their little babies dearly. The Emperor paid no mind, and left with his entourage, only somewhat mollified by his own revenge.

The girls grew. All three were lovely, and the Emperor made certain his prophecies were well on their way to fruition. He enlisted the finest instructors from every corner of the world to come and teach the siblings. Peach Blossom held a chi'in the moment her little fingers could grasp it, and soon she was so skilled at playing all manner of instruments that none could hope to rival her. Sweet Plum's dancing became so refined that it seemed as though she tread on both water and air, and even when she was just walking through the streets, people stopped to look at her grace. The two girls were dressed in silks and jewels, and they were the ornaments of the Kingdom.

Bright Lily, still out of favor with the Emperor, was not dressed in finery, nor was she adorned with gems. Instead, she was made to live in a little cottage on the palace grounds, where her tutors came and kept her busy at her scrolls and books hour upon hour. She learned nearly every subject, and it was fortunate indeed that her mind was quick and keen, for she was an exemplary student who soon outclassed her masters.

Unfortunately, with that quick mind came a longing to do more than simply study and wander the palace grounds. Even though she was plainly dressed and never permitted to join her sisters at the Emperor's dining table, she did not feel affront at the ostracism. She simply wanted to do

more

with her existence. What good, after all, was so much knowledge without any application of it?

Meanwhile, the Emperor himself was finding Bright Lily's existence to be a problem in quite a different way. The day after she was born, he had sent riders in all directions to find a suitable monster for the girl to wed when she turned eighteen, but thus far all efforts had been in vain. Either the creatures were so dangerous that the men were killed or forced to slay the things, or they weren't intelligent enough to say 'I shall' at the altar.

It was a week before Bright Lily's eighteenth birthday and all hope seemed lost. The Emperor was readying himself for misery and horror and cursing Bright Lily for bringing all this upon him, when a cry sounded at the gates of the palace. Guards rushed to see what the matter was and there, standing at the wide doors, was a monster of tremendous ferocity. It was black and had both fur and scales, its teeth huge and sharp, its claws enormous. The guards began to attack it, but it evaded them and then flung them all aside.

"Take me to the Emperor," it declared as the guards picked themselves up. "I am here to wed Bright Lily."

Well! This was certainly welcome news. The guards did not attack again, but escorted the monster to the Hall of Harmony, where the Emperor waited. The monster chuffed and snarled, but then bowed slightly to the Emperor.

"We have been searching a good long while, monster," the Emperor stated. "Why have you not come forth before?"

"I live far away, in the mountains past the sun," was the creature's reply. "And it took your rider years to come to my dwelling. When he did, I attacked him. With his dying breath, he told me of your plight. I will wed Bright Lily, but if I do you must name me your heir."

The Emperor blinked and coughed. "My heir? Surely you're joking. I would never give my kingdom to a monster."

"No. You would only consign it to misery and terror forever," replied the monster. "Either you name me your heir, or I will not wed Bright Lily and your kingdom shall go to ruin."

The Emperor thought this over. "Very well. But remember – you must not only wed her, but tear her flesh and bathe in her blood."

"Yes. This I most certainly will do," said the monster.

The Emperor rubbed his hands in delight at the idea of finally exacting his revenge on Bright Lily. "Then let preparations begin!" he declared, and soon all was in readiness.

The wedding ceremony was brief, and Bright Lily was brought blindfolded to the proceedings, for fear she would run or fight if she were to see just the kind of creature she was marrying. For her part, Bright Lily remained unaware of this part of her Fate; no-one had ever told her that one day she would be wed to a beast who would tear her flesh and bathe in her blood. She deduced that her husband was merely unattractive and that was why she had been bereft of her sight for the occasion. Her feelings about the marriage were ambivalent. She assumed she would be expected to bear a son and then her husband would take a mistress and she could return to the pleasure of her studies alone.

She was unprepared for the preternatural depth of her bridegroom's voice as he spoke the vows, and wondered if he were also deformed and misshapen. He sounded as though his throat had been wounded or that he had been born with some defect of the larynx. She was so consumed with puzzling out possibilities that her own vows were offered amidst distraction and curiosity.

When the wedding was finished, the monster offered his arm to his bride so that he might escort her from the great hall. She laid her white hand on him and felt the strangeness of both scale and fur. Still blindfolded, her new theory was that he was both deformed

and

a barbarian, wearing the skins and scales of his kills. Barbarians were notoriously stupid and dull. This was faring far worse than she could imagine. Still, she remained silent and stately, reasoning that wailing or protesting would do little good. He

was

her husband now, after all. Better to seem composed and flee once they'd reached her cottage.

She was escorted by her spouse back home and, once inside, he instructed her to remove the blindfold. She did so, and took her first look at her mate.

Her expression was stoic. She said nothing.

"Well?" the monster growled. "I am your husband. Are you not inclined to scream?"

"Truthfully, no," answered Bright Lily. "I had been worried that you would be deformed and barbarous. This is actually a relief."

"Relief?" echoed the creature incredulously. "I am a monster."

"But you are a well-made monster," countered his wife, "with horns that are sleek, polished and symmetrical, and scales that are a fine, bright onyx. Moreover, you can speak and, though we have not exchanged many words, I can tell you are no dullard. Now, then – I will prepare some tea and I want to know everything about you: where you come from, what you do with your days, what your thoughts are on many subjects. I have studied all my life, but never have I encountered someone like you. I am very interested in learning about you."

The monster was so dumbfounded that he could not even piece together a suitable response until after she had handed him a bowl of tea and kneeled across from him on her cushion. While she appraised him curiously with her gaze, he frowned deeply. "I realize now you were not told that tonight would be your last alive," he said.

Bright Lily nearly dropped the teapot. "M-my...my last?" she gasped. "What do you mean?"

"Did you never question

why

you were forced to marry me?" the monster asked.

"I assumed it was a cruel joke on the Emperor's part," she answered fretfully. "He has never cared for me, though I do not know why, as he seems to love my sisters as if they were his own."

"You and you sisters are the keys to your kingdom's prosperity or ruin," the monster began, and then told Bright Lily about her birth, the omens, the Emperor's declarations of her and her sisters' fates, and the unwitting insult to the ruler of the land. "His revenge lies in me to execute. You seem a reasonable and intelligent girl and you have been kind to me; I am somewhat regretful of my task. But it will not only gain me the kingdom after the Emperor dies, it will prevent your lands from suffering great ruin and catastrophe."

"I see," was all Bright Lily said for a long while.

"I will leave you now, and give you time to prepare yourself," said the monster as he began to rise.

"No." Bright Lily's voice was firm.

"No?"

"You are my husband and, if I am to die tonight, I will do so as a wife." Her gaze was even, steady, her expression set with determination. "I want you to bed me."

This made the monster sit back down with a resounding THUMP. "You

what

?"

"You are not deformed. You are certainly not stupid. You are not unappealing to me – I always thought I would be bored with a normal husband. You are clean and your fur smells like pipe tobacco and earth. I rather like it. I know I am not of your kind, and I would understand if my interest was not requited, but...consider it a last request to my executioner." She looked with frankness at him. "You are my husband. I want you to bed me."

The monster was surprised, yes, but he was also (as Bright Lily had noted) not stupid. "Come to me, then," he said quietly. And Bright Lily blinked, smiled, and rose to rush into his arms.

He was nearly twice her height, and certainly dwarfed her in mass, so he lifted her with perfect ease, drawing her against his massive chest. She sighed, smiling still, and laid her small hands on either side of his face, feeling the thick, silky black fur there and drawing in the smoky, earth scent of him. It was unquestionable feral and masculine, and sparked her to touch the first of her kisses on his wide, dark mouth. Her lips nibbled at an obsidian tusk-like fang and her fingers tangled themselves in fur. He did his best to stay still and let her explore, part of him still unsure that she would not remember herself and leap away shrieking. But her kisses were tender and insistent, her hands holding fast to him as if she'd never let go and so, finally, his eyes closed slowly and he drew her tighter against him.

One clawed hand began to pluck at her wedding robes, the delicate silk snagging on the roughness of his palm, his fingers adroit despite their size. As he began to peel away the material, his eyes came open again to watch her flesh being bared. Smooth shoulders, milky arms, the swell of a round, soft little breast and the flare of a curving hip. Her name suited her perfectly – she was as white as a lily and she seemed to glow with her own light. His giant arms worked to shift her from one side to the other so that he could undress her without her feet ever touching the floor. She made not a sound of protest, her eyes heavy-lidded as they watched him, her smile soft and inviting.

When she was nude, he spent time simply admiring her, making a perch out of cupped hands for her lovely backside, hoisting her up slightly so he could turn her, view her at all angles. She was pliant in this, limbs remaining malleable, her smile turning into a soft peal of gentle laughter as his eyes roved over every inch of her. In that moment, he was stabbed with the knowledge that the life of this beautiful angel would end by his hand. The recollection made him shudder, growl in throaty distress and crush her to him, his tongue rolling from his mouth to begin lapping at her shoulder, almost like a remorseful puppy.

And she reached to hold to him, her own lips parting to exhale a tremulous sigh.His tongue was not rough, but it was wet and dark and hot. She was surprised that it didn't burn her skin, only left a slick trail behind its course. "Please," she murmured, the entreaty left unarticulated. It wasn't necessary. He understood and drew he back, one large hand splayed across her back, the other pushing gingerly on her chest to make her lean, arch back, so that he could draw a breast into his mouth. When he felt the shudder move through her body, he began to mouth her, teething the flesh carefully.

Instantly there was heat to come and color her cheeks, her chest. Heat that spread down deep into her sex, made her little toes flex and her hands stiffen as they clutched at him. He scented her and it pitched him headlong into a baser need, prompting his free hand to reach down and grip a white thigh, holding her still so that he could drag his mouth away from one breast, leaving it glistening and wet, and fasten hotly on the other.

And then even those beautiful offerings weren't enough, and he shifted her once again, lifting her up with his hand under her back, slipping the other to cradle her bottom, like she was a bowl from which he intended to drink. Those fair, soft legs fell open, the insides of her thighs dusting his cheeks, her small heels tickling his furred elbows. She felt a chuff of hot, hot breath there on her sex for a brief instant before that mouth opened and he began to drag his tongue rhythmically over her pink, pink flesh.

Her noises were almost as primal as his, her hips bucking so that he had to chase his prize with his tongue, finally abandoning the tasting for a more robust endeavor. She could feel his teeth on her mons, his tongue now penetrating her ever so slightly, beginning a dizzying pulse that had her panting. When her cried matched his cadence and when her body begin to tense, to tighten, he wrested her from his mouth reluctantly and drew her down, keeping her thighs widely parted and his hands encircling her torso.

He was painfully hard, his cock standing hot against his scaled abdomen. It, like the rest of him, was a gleaming onyx, large and smooth. His wife stared at the massive organ and then lifted her gaze to his, her body quaking and her expression desperate.

"I don't care," she whimpered. "I don't care...do it...."

She kissed him then, wild and abandoned, and he growled into her throat, stealing her breath as he fitted her there on the tip of his cock and the hands that clasped her hips pushed her down to be impaled on him. When she screamed, he stole that into him as well, kissing her with all the fervor and desire that had been feeding into him. The kiss broke as she threw her head back, cries rocketing upward. He began to thrust, pistoning up inside of her, feeling how beautifully tight she was, seeing how delectably her breasts bounced as he worked her. And she, reeling from pleasure as much as from pain, encouraged every motion with inarticulate moans and pulls of her little hands, holding his shoulders for balance and leverage and just taking him, taking him, taking him.

His dark, massive head bowed against her chest, his hands lifting her, pulling her down, only to lift her and pull again and again until every nuance of pain in her sounds and her form was overrun with the invasion of an obliterating orgasm. He could hear it in her scream and feel it in the way she tightened even more, became vise-like around his cock. The spasms were fierce and he huffed, arched and

howled

, pumping his release in a drenching deluge inside of her.

The two shuddered, clung, sucked down crazed gulps of air as the remnants of pleasure skittered through their nerves and left them spent and stunned. Her offered a few more languid, unconscious laps of tongue to her skin, then screwed his eyes shut and pressed so close it was though he wanted to draw her into himself. "I can't..." he growled low. "I can't kill you. Not now."

"I love you," she murmured, softly. "I love you, and I am your wife."

"I'll kill him," the monster vowed, words muffled against her beautiful skin. "I'll devour his heart and rip his head from his shoulders for doing this to you, for doing this to

us

."

"My darling," Bright Lily said quietly, "that will not be necessary. You and I will live here happily and, when he dies, you will be Emperor and I will be with you for the rest of your life."

"No. No. I have to kill you, or the kingdom will fall into ruin."

Bright Lily lay her fingers under her husband's jaw and raised his head. "Do you think so? I do not. You've already brought about my foretold fate." At his confused expression, her smile became wider. "What were you to do?"

"Kill you," he answered unhappily.

"No. You were to tear my flesh and bathe in my blood. And so you've done – you tore the flesh of my maidenhead, and your wonderful, wicked sex bathed in the blood of my innocence. You did what you were meant to do. And now," she sighed contentedly, "you will have a kingdom, a wife who adores you and perhaps some very...interesting-looking children."

The monster stared at her, at his wife, for a moment. Then, with a roar of jubilation, he kissed her possessively and then immediately set about making absolutely certain his job was done. And she, his mate, helped him ensure her fate had come at last.