Ava could feel her blood running hot through her veins. “With you!” she bellowed. “I belong with you. Damalia, my love.”
The other woman’s response was barely above a strained whisper. “Don’t… “
“Don’t what? Tell you how I feel?”
Damalia shook her head, pulling further away. “You’re just confused. You love the version of me that you know. I mean, you’ve never even seen my face! Doesn’t that worry you?” Her tone was a miserable mix of desperation and resignation; it made Ava’s insides ache.
Ava moved forward again; she wasn’t going to let her run away. This was a conversation they needed to have. It was long overdue.
“Please, trust me; have some faith in me.” The younger woman grabbed the front of her green robes and fell to her knees in supplication. “Lia, you must know by now that there is no physical deformity that could scare me away.”
Damaila let out a deep sigh. “I wish that were true, Ava. You don’t know how badly I wish that were true.”
Ava could feel her hands trembling in desperation. “If you wish it were true, then why don’t you want to at least try?”
The silence of the sacred room was deafening. Frustration clawed at the maiden’s chest. If nothing else, Damalia owed her an explanation. “Tell me that you don’t love me too! You spoke before of love. The excitement, the nervousness, the longing. I long for you, Lia. Do you not long for me as well?”
The replying voice was nothing like her companion’s normal tone. She usually sounded so cool and calm, but her voice now held the pain of broken glass. “Do I not long for you?” She gave a desperate, tortured laugh. “Ava, I only long for you! I have never felt such desire in my life. You must know by now that my being craves you. I would risk anything, anything, for your safety and happiness.”
“Then why don’t you want more?” Ava begged, trying her best to understand. “Why am I still not good enough to be with you?”
It took Damalia no time to reply. She lifted Ava off the floor, wrapping her in her lithe arms. Ava rested her head on the taller woman’s chest. Her heart sounded like a small, panicked bird trapped inside her ribs.
“Oh my dove, don’t you see? You are far too good for me! Your soul shines like a light, the only decent thing in all of Arlen. I feel as helpless as a moth drawn to a flame. You have no idea the will power I exert every time we meet. It takes all of my control not to throw you over my shoulder and carry you with my bare hands from this place!"
Ava looked up, but could see nothing but the low-hanging fabric that covered her face. “If that’s true, then why don’t you? I would not fight you, Damalia. We want the same thing! Why do you hesitate? I don’t understand!”
“Ava, it is because I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my life! I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t want to be protected, I just want to be with you!” She looked around the sterile, white marble that surrounded them. This place had never felt like her home. Damalia felt like her home. “These past few months have been the happiest of my life.”
“Hav-,” the rest of Damalia’s statement was cut off by a loud noise. A man’s voice echoed down an adjacent corridor; his loud footsteps thudding on the marble floor.
“Hide!” Ava hissed, pushing her love behind a large opaque curtain.
The man’s voice grew louder as he called out. “Hello? Is everything alright?” Moments later, his face peaked inside the sanctum before running towards her.
The large man approached her quickly; Ava would have been frightened, but his features held nothing but concern. He grabbed her shoulders and looked over her, inspecting for signs of damage.
“I heard yelling. Maiden, are you in distress? Was there someone here?”
Ava wiped the tears off of her splotchy cheeks. “Everything is fine,” she croaked. “I… I just get very passionate when praying to Eupheme. I’m very much alone.” The truth of the statement sent a horrible, sharp pain over her skin.
“You don’t look well,” he replied honestly. “Please, let me escort you back to the bedchamber. Danger lurks beyond every corner in Arlen. No one should be alone right now.”
Ava nodded, too tired to fight his request. “Thank you,” she sighed. “I probably need to get some rest.”
She leaned on the guard as he guided her back through the temple, leaving Damalia alone in the inner sanctum. Ava had no idea of the bitter tears that freely flowed down her companion’s face.
Damalia knelt upon the hard floor of the sacred room, not in prayer, but in anger. She looked up toward the gods that ruled their mortal plan. “Fuck you,” she hissed at them.
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