Disclaimers: Coming Home is set in the alt classic genre based on the series Xena Warrior Princess.
by Brandi Ferdig
The light comes strong, blinding me as I walk into the path of the sun along the road ahead. I shade my eyes from what I cannot see. The wind kicks up as the dust swirls and beats against my face. The smell of jasmine and rain invades my senses as I seek the shelter that my heart aches for; there is a cabin off in the distance. I know that it is there, it beckons me nearer.
The lightning is coming, with the sound of thunder as it pounds and lights up the sky that is behind me. I reach the decrepit old cabin that has been left and neglected. The front door opens slowly with the sound creaking at the hinges. A musty smell fills my nostrils as I intake the aura of the room. A staleness of far and long ago rests heavy upon my chest as I wonder of those, that have passed through here before.
I toss my bedroll to the side of the room and go outside to collect timber and wood. The fire pit is forestalled on the east wall of the cabin inside. My head pounds and my body aches from the adventure that now has me weary. I lost her, the one I travel with. I have lost her through the dusty swirls of an emptiness that consumes me. I can only hope that she is safe and will seek to find her way back to here, to me.
The wood is now piled in the fireplace in the east pit of the room as it burns off its virginity. The plume, turned vertical allows the smoke to rise out into the storm. My head still pounds, yet my heart aches more while I wait for the loss of my love that is outside. She will come and I know that she will, for even in death she will never leave.
The thunder pounds at the cabin as the sky cracks loud and hard. It feels as if Zeus is coming through this roof! The walls of solid wood shake and ward off the thunder as a fear of the goddesses peel at my skin. I move closer to the fire that is now hot and ablaze. A strange scent of strawberries tickles my nose and surrounds the air that I breathe at this moment. I wonder of this aroma and recall where it is from.
The thought of her hair and soft tender lips, how she touches my heart softly in the night, she comes to my mind. I worry that she is unsafe in this storm that threatens to doom the beating of my heart. I could never live without her and I keep myself from a panic. I feel swelling in my belly, for I must believe, that her delay, is because she has sought shelter in this night. I know that her heart, searches for mine, as a beacon as I sit here and wait.
I spread out the bedroll, on to the bed that sits across from the fire. The bed, although now warm and inviting, remains cold without her.
Finally! A sound and a rasping of leaves that is out of place in this storm and is outside. I run to the door, lift the barrier and dart outside into the night, in time to catch her as she falls. She is limp and tired and is wet and she is cold. The smell of strawberries in her hair fills my senses and I know, I lift her and cradle her into my unyielding arms. Staring into her deepest of green eyes, she naturally wraps her arms around my neck. I seemingly float as I carry her inside, into the shelter of where our hearts should be.
I kick the door closed as it bounces back in protest, it hangs there, open still. Not caring at all, with just one thing at hand, I take her near to the fire and set her down gently. Stripping her bare of the wet clothes that held her chilled, leaving her for just a breath, long enough to grab a blanket to cover her naked cold body. Sitting and covering her, holding her close, tightly I cradle her nearer to me. The tears sting my eyes and flow down my cheeks ad my heart pounds from my chest. Knowing with all that is the world, that my life and my love has returned to me. She is here, she is safe and she is with me once again and I am once again complete.
She nuzzles softly into me more and I hold her and rock to and fro, kissing the wet blondeness of her hair, her green eyes sparkle in silence as I stare deep into their depths. They speak all that needs be, right into my heart. It should be sinful to be so close, to almost crawl inside another. I rise from the floor, never releasing my hold on the love that I hold close. Moving to the bed, now warm from her return, I place her down as I move to remove my own damp items. Joining her in the comfort and softness of the bed, I spoon as close as I can become, as we can become to each other. The heat from our bodies arises as I pull up the covers. Breathing much love, we drift into sleep. There is nothing more outside as the rain pounds at the earth. There is nothing that can happen here in the arms of love, for, the storm is no longer.
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