The messenger did not always listen to her. He sometimes ignored her—a little too easily, which riled me up as I watched from the distance—but today he acquiesced. I was fairly certain he only stopped for the night because she was being vehement about stopping near the river they rode near and bathing, along with washing her dress.
She still wore the white thing, though its lengths had gotten a bit dirty with the journey. It was a dress I’d never seen her in before that day at the choosing, but even so, Morana looked remarkably beautiful in it. She would make a gorgeous bride, I knew, and it was yet another reason I could not stand back and let them go to my brother without letting her see me, first.
I’d found her years ago. I’d kept watch over her, giving her my favor all these years. I kept her body warm at night with my fire, even in the cold winter months. The last thing I wanted to do was step aside and allow my brother to take her without seeing… without knowing whether or not she felt the same. If Morana felt as connected to me as I did to her.
I knew it was possible I was blowing everything out of proportion, that I had been, quite frankly, obsessing over her for years, much more so than any other human I’d granted my favor to, but I had to know. One way or the other, I just had to know.
The messenger let his horse graze the nearby area, while he used his magic to lure in a rabbit, which he then got to work on after killing it. He never ate, never slept; he wasn’t quite human, even though his appearance beneath that armor would say he was. Morana needed food, though, and he was entrusted with bringing her to Abner intact and whole.
Morana was never truly out of his sight, though he did afford her some privacy once she glared at him and started to take off her dress and her boots. Clutching the dress, she went to the river’s side, choosing a smooth-flowing area to try to rinse off the bottom of the dress, get the dirt out of its fabric.
I wanted to tell her it didn’t matter, that she would get a whole new wardrobe at the castle, but I didn’t. I let her work on the dress as the sun began to set, as my brother’s messenger began to cook the rabbit a little ways off.
I didn’t say a word. I stood behind her, watching her in silence. She wore her underthings, so she wasn’t completely nude yet. I… I should reveal myself to her before she finished with her dress and shed the rest of her clothes, this I knew, but would I? That had yet to be seen.
Though it wasn’t like Morana could see me, though this wasn’t the first time I’d caught her wearing something less than was decent, it was the first time I let myself realize: I wanted to see the rest of her. I wanted to see the sun-kissed skin hidden beneath the small string of fabric near her backside and the bit holding back her breasts. I wanted to see everything, and I wanted it more than a god should.
A god, after all, should want for not. There should be nothing in this entire world that I craved and did not have. But Morana… she seemed to go against every rule there was.
Morana made a sound as she stood, lifting the dress and inspecting it. Her blonde hair cascaded over her bare shoulders, the sun dappling through the clouds above lighting everything with an orange hue. She must’ve decided the dress was as good as it would get, for she carefully laid it aside before finding a deeper part of the river. She shivered as she dipped her toes in, and after she pulled them out, I could see the goosebumps in her flesh.
Not on my watch.
I moved toward the river, lowering a hand to its surface and touching it, feeling the water coursing through my brown fingers. Golden magic flowed off me, oozing into the water. The next time Morana lowered any part of her body in the water, she would not be cold.
Content with my actions, I turned just in time to see her shed the rest of her clothes. When I saw bits of her skin I knew I shouldn’t see without her permission, I found myself starting to turn away. I knew I shouldn’t ever look upon her without her knowing it, and yet… and yet I was a god, was I not? Did I not command summer and its glorious aspects? If I wanted to see her, did I not have the right?
No, I didn’t. I wasn’t a vengeful god, like the gods of old. I didn’t take what I wanted by force.
Still, that said, my urges got the better of me. Thankfully, by the time I’d turned back around, she’d already sunk into the water, lowering herself and covering her body up to her chest. Morana did not shiver this time; the water, even though it coursed with the slow and steady movement of the current, was warm still thanks to my magic.
I watched her for a few moments, losing myself in the smoothness of the skin on her back, how utterly perfect she was. It wasn’t fair that my brother would marry her; I had been the one to watch her all these years. Morana should be on her way to my castle, not Abner’s.
After a while, I began to pace. Back and forth, not acting very godly in my indecision. Perhaps revealing myself to her now would be a mistake. Maybe I simply had some foolish, almost childlike infatuation with her?
No. No, even as I thought that possibility, I knew it wasn’t right. This wasn’t merely an infatuation. Morana might not know how much I’d watched over her for most of her life, but just because she didn’t love me did not mean I could not love her.
I did, I think. It was difficult for me to say, for some would argue a god could never truly love another. We did not think the same as mortals, did not have the same yearnings as mortals. Being timeless, being immortal, things tended to affect you differently. But, I supposed the same could be said for humans. No two humans were alike.
I ended up procrastinating revealing myself to her so much, by the time I snapped back to reality, I heard her getting out of the water, her hair and face rinsed out and washed as best she could, given the fact that this was a river and not an actual bath. When she climbed out of the river, standing just past the rocks that lined its shore, I found myself staring, in complete and utter awe of her.
She was… to say she was beautiful would be the kingdom’s biggest understatement. No other human could ever hold a candle to her. Morana’s body was flawless, a type of perfection that should only be held by another god. It was as if she was made to be a goddess herself, her hips wide, her stomach smooth… her breasts round and curved with dark, pointed nipples—
Morana’s eyes locked with mine, and she let out a stifled scream before picking up a rock and throwing it at me, as hard and as fast as she could.
Oh. Right. I must’ve revealed myself to her while losing myself in her naked appearance. The words oops didn’t feel too godly, but no other word came to mind as I grinned and ducked away from the thrown rock.
I held my hands up, being careful not to let my gaze dip lower than her collarbone. Heat had begun to gather in my lower half—more heat than I could ever remember being there before—but I fought the sensation as I gave her a mock surrender.
Morana went to pick up another rock, not bothering to cover herself. She did shift those stunning blue eyes toward the other side of the river, where the messenger was a good ways away, currently cooking a rabbit as if nothing at all was going on here.
And nothing was going on here. It wasn’t like I was a bandit or a robber, intent on harming this girl.
“Ah, my brother’s messenger won’t hear you,” I told her, unable to stop myself from grinning. It took every ounce of willpower in me to not let my gaze eat her up, to not memorize every curve on that body, the way she looked in the dying sunlight, her naked form glistening with water droplets.