Jackunzel Drabbles (The Original)

Greek God (Part 1)

One: If I could. I would nail these hands to the edges of stars, I would sacrifice this body to the sky hoping to resurrect someone spiteful enough to not care about you anymore.

Temples grew weary after a while, sacrifices became mundane and prayers floated into the north wind like crumpled leaves, forgotten and unimportant. It was a wonder how he had become so flippant about things that meant to the world to him just decades ago. When he was just a spirit, he longed for the power that came with prayers; that came with believers and sacrifices. He would roam the towns, move among the people all dressed in colors and silk, play tricks on the humans for his own entertainment. They couldn’t see him anyway. Once he had taken the place of the old god Boreas, it was his sole job to send the North winds and being winter to the earth.

He was built temples in the countries that had heavy snow fall, his name was revered. The fear for their crops and lively hoods was the catalyst to sacrifices and prayers. He used to love the feel of his power surging through him, he was invincible for the world and mankind could not continue without him. He brought the rains and the snow, the spring and new life was not possible without him.

That changed when he saw her.

She was beautiful, dressed in long skirts of silk and scarfs. She had the air of royalty, the purity of a temple maiden and the beauty of Aphrodite herself. Her golden hair could not be woven by Athena; her rosy lips were envied by the flowers themselves. Her skin was kissed by the sun itself, glowed like the stars and her emerald eyes matched the spring itself. She was perfect and he was infatuated.

Since she had placed a golden chalice at his alter in her small city, her hands bent together in a prayer. A cloak of white and purple kept her from the cold, yet her eyes lashes were decorated with snowflakes, her cheeks were red from the winds. She prayed for a nice winter, prayed for the sickness of her people because she could never ask of anything for herself. No she was far too good for that.

He had come to her that day, dressed in his usual blue and whites with a midnight blue cloak of his own. She looked at him with wide green eyes, those lips parted in a lovely ‘o’ as she gazed upon him. He knew he was beautiful, very few gods were not. A mess of white hair blown by the winds, tall and lean with pale winter skin; his smile was white with fresh snow. She was as in awe of him as he was of her.

They met every day, seeing each other and talking about things that he did not know he cared about. She would braid his hair as he laid his head in her lap, the silk of her fingers ran over his scalp softly. She held his heart in her hands the moment she said his name. There were days where messengers had to retrieve him, remind him of his duty to the lands. He would kiss her good bye and disappear in a wind of snowflakes.

“Why must you always leave?” she asked, leaning back into the coolness of his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.

“Because without me, the spring would never come.” He replied.

“And what if I don’t want the spring to come?” she asked with a mischievous smile.

Jack chuckled, tilted her head to the side to take her lips for his own She always tasted like warm honey. She turned in his arms so that she could wrap them around his neck, their kiss set fire to his loins and he wondered just how human she was to be able to cast such a spell over him.

“Promise me something Rapunzel.” He breathed against her lips, she shivered.

“Anything.”

“Promise me that you will always come here, that you will always be mine.” He whispered, his eyes looking into hers. She smiled beautifully for him,