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  >> Static Item >> Short Story >> Contest >> ID #1067810  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
A Love Across the Centuries
A story about destiny and love.
Rated:
ASR
by
Avg Rating: (9)


A Love Across the Centuries


He stood alone on the street, even though he was surrounded by people. His mother had sent him to take care of a human, a woman that threatened her beauty. He sighed as he considered his mother.

Aphrodite hadn’t had much use for him in the last few years, humans tended not to call upon her in this modern time, so the goddess had amused herself by spying on the humans. Unfortunately this meant that every time she saw a woman that might be considered more beautiful than her, she sent her darling son to take care of the woman. Being the god of love and desire, he couldn’t actually kill the woman but he could harden her heart to love or cause her to fall in love with someone really disgusting.

As he scanned the crowd, looking for the woman Aphrodite had shown him, he fingered the charm around his neck. This charm allowed him to reach into the nether regions and retrieve his bow and quiver when he needed them. Obviously in this modern time, he couldn’t walk around with a bow and quiver full of gold and lead arrows. That would definitely rate him some strange looks. Not that he didn’t get strange looks to begin with. He wasn’t tall for this time, something he was thankful for, but he had inherited his features from his mother. Aphrodite was a beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman in history (not discounting Helen), but her features on his face were a bit delicate looking. He was glad he towered over her at 6’3” and at least had his height to make his masculine image. He was also glad he had blond hair that she was now allowing him to cut short instead of her curly auburn tresses. His blue eyes matched hers though, the color of a calm sea.

At least his features and coloring allowed him to blend in with the humans. He was careful to keep out of the main flow of pedestrian traffic since he was watching for the woman. He was visible to the humans at the moment, although a quick thought could make him instantly vanish. He preferred not to do that while he was standing on the street though, it would cause too much attention.

His eyes were drawn to the woman sauntering towards him. She was around his apparent age, about twenty-three or four, with waist length brown hair and a voluptuous body. He stared at her for a few minutes, captivated by her looks, and then realized that this was the woman his mother had sent him to torment. She wouldn’t be considered beautiful in the modern sense; she was too curvy, too plump for that, but she had a lush beauty to her.

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he brought his thoughts back to his mother’s directions and he reached for the charm around his neck. Wrapping his fingers around it, he started to whisper the spell that would call his bow to him.

The girl paused, a few scant feet from him, and turned to look in the shop window behind him. She was oblivious to him, not ignoring him, but totally unconcerned that he was standing there. For a moment he wondered if he had accidentally turned himself invisible, but the admiring looks from a group of teenage girls that chose that moment to walk past dissuaded him from that option.

He knew after seeing her in person that he couldn’t do as his mother asked. To make this woman fall in love with a monster or to harden her heart would be the cruelest of actions. She deserved someone to love and cherish her for the rest of her life. And suddenly he wanted to be that person.

Ignoring his conscience, which was telling him not to do what he was about to, he stuck his right hand behind his back and whispered the spell that would call a rose to him. He turned to the woman, drawing the thornless red rose out from behind his back and presented it to her. “My lady,” he declared as she turned startled brown eyes towards him, “this rose does not do your beauty justice, but please take it for my sake as a small token of my admiration.”

She started to reach for it, but then withdrew her hand. “You must have me confused with someone else, mister,” she said.

He shook his head, allowing golden blond hair to fall into his eyes for a moment, before he brushed it back. “No, my lady. It is you that this rose belongs to.”

Hesitantly, she took it from him and lifted it to her face. She breathed in the slight scent, then brushed the soft petals across her cheeks. She smiled dreamily as she felt the slight tickle. “Thank you.”

He smiled at her, glad to see her enjoyment of the simple gift. “May I invite you to dine with me this evening? I would greatly enjoy your company.”

“I couldn’t do that,” she replied. “I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m not asking you to allow me to pick me up, just meet me at the restaurant and eat with me. We’ll be in a public place the entire time, you have nothing to fear. And my name is Er,” he paused, realizing he couldn’t give her his real name, “Ethan.”

She looked puzzled that he had started to say something else, but put her hand forward to shake and answered his introduction, “I’m Psyche.”

He visibly started at the name of his human lover so many years ago, but recovered so quickly she barely noticed. “Greek for soul. A lovely name for a beautiful woman. Shall we meet tonight at seven at the Olympia?”

She seemed surprised that he had named the most exclusive restaurant in town. “Can you get a reservation this late?”

“No fear, my lady. All will be taken care of.” He raised the hand he still held to his lips and laid a light kiss on it. While she was distracted, he plucked the name and address of her work out of her mind. “I’ll see you tonight at seven then.”

“Yes. I should be going anyway. Getting back to work.”

“I’ll see you tonight then, my lady. Have a good afternoon.” He turned and walked away before she could.

He had a lot to do before the evening. He needed to line up some gifts for Psyche and have them sent to her at work. He needed to find appropriate clothes for himself for dinner and he had to avoid answering any of Aphrodite’s calls. He only had twenty-four hours to make Psyche fall in love with him and agree to eat the ambrosia so that he could take her to Mount Olympus. In twenty-four hours, whether he liked it or not, he would return to Mount Olympus and would be unable to return for one year. In addition to everything else, he still had to convince Aphrodite that she was no threat to his mother’s beauty.

His first order of business, while trying to avoid the calls Aphrodite would start soon, especially if she had been spying on him was to make arrangements for dinner. Luckily, he had a human persona, a very rich human persona, who could command just about anything. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed the number of the Olympia. When the maitre d' answered, he identified himself as Ethan Tillinghast and requested a secluded table for two at seven that night. The maitre d’ did some quick rearranging and promised that the table would be ready for them. He next called Sweetheart Roses and ordered two dozen roses in red, red-tipped yellow, deep burgundy, dark red, and yellow to be delivered to Psyche at work at two pm. Another call to Bavarian Chalet and he had a basket of expensive chocolates and cream puffs on its way to her right then. A third phone call to Savastovian’s Jewelers and he had an order placed for a necklace with a diamond heart as the pendent and a set of 1/5 carat round diamond earrings ready for delivery at four. He intended to take care of the three o’clock delivery himself, but in order to do that he needed to go back to his hotel room at The Carlyle. He had just entered his hotel room and shut the door when Aphrodite appeared in the middle of the living room.

She wore a see-through sleeveless chiton, belted at her waist with a gold chain. Her long auburn hair was held back by a diadem, although strands of it had come loose and curled around her face, and there was a pout on her sensuous lips. “Hello, Mother,” he greeted her as he shrugged off his light jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair next to him. “Could you please find something a little less revealing to wear? I’m your son, not one of your men.”

She glanced down at herself as if surprised she wasn’t appropriately dressed. “Sorry, Eros.” A moment later, she was dressed in a burgundy sweater with a plunging neckline and a pair of jeans. The same sandals she had been wearing still graced her feet. Eros shook his head. It was a slight improvement, although not much of a one, since the clothes clung to her body. She flounced across the room and sank gracefully into the chair. “Did you take care of that human hussy yet?” she demanded.

Eros winced at the strident tone to her voice. “No, not yet, Mother. I’ll do it before my twenty-four hours are up though.” He prayed his mother hadn’t been spying on him that afternoon.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Because I haven't made my decision about what to do yet," he replied, sitting down across from her. "I said I'd take care of her. Why don't you go terrorize your handmaidens or have one of your boys entertain you?"

She stood up and stretched languorously, causing him to avert his eyes as her sweater rode up. "Maybe I'll go visit Paris or some place warmer. Make sure you take care of that human before your twenty-four hours are over." Before she finished speaking, she had disappeared and her words came floating back to him.

"Yes, Mother," he answered the air. When he was sure she was gone, he got to work. First he set an alarm so he would have a few moments warning if Aphrodite decided to pop in again.

Then he gathered up the supplies he would need for the third gift. He spread the paper, pens, and ink out on the coffee table, then took a piece of scrap paper and began to compose a poem for Psyche.

Thirty minutes later, he leaned back against the couch and read aloud what he had written.

"Even though we have just met
You've become someone I will not forget
There's something I feel when I look at your face
My heart has been stolen, without a trace

I want to tell you, but I can't seem to find
the words to say what is on my mind
Whatever it is, it's a feeling so new
and I can't wait to say how I feel about you
"

When he was satisfied with the words, he took a second piece of scrap paper and translated the words into Greek. He took a sheet of red vellum and searched his ink bottles until he found the purest, darkest black he had. With a careful hand, he wrote the poem in Greek down the left hand side of the page. Then he wrote it in English down the right hand side. He took a moment to admire his neat calligraphy, then left it on the table to dry while he went out to get a frame for it. He was capable of making a frame just as he had made the rose earlier, but he wanted to actually buy one for her.

When he returned from his shopping trip, he had just enough time to put the poem in the frame, wrap it up, and make his way across town to the office building where Psyche worked.

He didn’t intend to go upstairs to see her so was pleased to see a receptionist sitting downstairs. He made his way over to the girl who was talking to another girl about her own age. Both of them seemed to be not much younger than Psyche, but in a way they were a lot younger. Psyche had a maturity to her that he liked, while these two seemed like giggly teenagers. he smiled at the girl behind the desk as he held the package out to her. “Will you see that this gets delivered to Miss Diotrephes?” he asked.

She took it eagerly. “Are you the guy who’s been sending things to her all afternoon?” she asked.

He nodded. “Have they delivered two things?”

“Yes.”

“Well, this is the third and there’s something else coming this afternoon.” He glanced at the clock and saw that it was about five minutes to three. “Think you can get it upstairs to her so it gets there at three?”

“Certainly. If you wait a minute, she’ll be down to pick it up.”

He grinned. “No, I don’t want to see her. Don’t tell her who dropped it off,” he cautioned.

As he walked away, he could hear the other girl comment, “I wish my boyfriend looked that good and was that generous on Valentine’s Day. I’m lucky to get a card.”

Just before he walked out of earshot, he heard the receptionist say, “If my guy looked that good, I wouldn’t care what he got me.”

* * * * *


He got to the restaurant early so he could make sure everything was set up. He explained to the maitre d’ that he was meeting Psyche Diotrephes here and that he wanted her escorted back to him when she got there. The maitre d’ smiled and agreed to do as he asked.

He had only been settled for a few minutes and was perusing the wine menu when he saw her being escorted his way. He got to his feet when she got close to the table and waited while she was seated. She was wearing a royal blue dress that flattered her figure and flowed softly to her knees. He refocused his attention on her face and tried not to let his gaze linger too long lower down. When she was settled, he asked the maitre d’ to have a bottle of Santa Margarita Pinot Grigio delivered to them and then waited for him to leave before smiling at Psyche. “How was your day?” he asked.

She shook her napkin out and placed it in her lap. “I had a very interesting afternoon.”

“Oh really?” he asked.

She smiled engagingly at me. “Yes. Every hour I got a gift delivered to my office.” She touched the diamonds at her ears and throat, which he was very glad to see. He had been afraid that she would refuse them. “They were very expensive and you shouldn’t have spent the money on them.”

“My dear Psyche, I have more money than I could spend in twenty lifetimes. Believe me when I tell you that those gifts didn’t even put a dent in my bank account.”

“As long as you’re sure. I felt bad about taking them. I do have to admit my favorite gift was the poem. That was absolutely lovely. Who did you get to write it for you?”

He smiled back at her, glad she was accepting his gifts. “I didn’t get anyone to write it for me. I composed the poem and translated it into Greek. Then I wrote it out on that paper. My…ah…mother likes the men in her life to be well-educated. She had me taught calligraphy and languages when I was younger.”

She reached across the table and took his hand. “And now I love it even more. Thank you.”

They chatted about mundane things as they waited for the waiter to return. “Do you trust me?” he asked when the waiter stood before them ready to take their order.

She nodded. “Sure. Why?”

“I’d like to order for both of us.” When she didn’t protest, he turned to the waiter and without consulting the menu, he ordered. “Caesar salads to start with. Lobster bisque for our soup. Then crab stuffed shrimp for the appetizer. For our main course we’ll have the Lobster Thermidor with baby vegetables and rice and lastly the chocolate mocha cheesecake for dessert.”

“Very good, sir.” The waiter finished writing down the order and then departed.

Psyche looked at him in awe. “I am never going to eat all that.”

“Eat as much as you want. If you don’t have room for dessert, we can have it wrapped up and you can eat it later.”

“So tell me how you got your name,” he said as their salads were served.

“I was named after my I don’t know how many greats-grandmother.” She picked at her salad as she explained. “The story goes like this. Long, long ago, my many greats-grandmother had a lover. He was Eros, the god of love. Eros was deeply in love with my greats-grandmother and asked her to eat ambrosia so she could go to live with him on Mount Olympus. Unfortunately before he could meet her with the ambrosia, his mother, the goddess Aphrodite discovered their plan. Aphrodite appeared to that Psyche and convinced her that Eros didn’t really love her. Aphrodite also sent Eros away on a mission for her. When he returned to claim Psyche, she was married to a mortal man and pregnant. Grief-stricken, he swore that she would be reborn where he could find her and that he would return to claim her as his bride. When Psyche lay dying, she called her granddaughter to her and told her that she would be having a girl after Psyche died and that that child would be the new Psyche. The name and the story has been passed down through the generations and each Psyche has predicted when and to whom the next Psyche would be born.” She stopped and looked at him. “You don’t believe me.”

He shook himself out of his memories. He remembered that woman and also the pronouncement he had made. He never expected to actually find her soul again but it appeared he had. Now to convince her that she needed to go with him, without reveling who he was. He was forbidden from telling any mortal who he was so he had to convince her to eat the ambrosia before confessing his true nature. And he still had to keep his mother, who was becoming an insistent voice in his head, from finding her. “Its not that I don’t believe you. It’s a fascinating story. I can’t understand how you’re family’s managed to make sure it got passed down through so many generations.”

She shrugged, the motion unconsciously elegant. “All I know is the family has been very careful to make sure the story in its entirety was passed down.” She toyed with her fork. “I often wondered how Eros would reappear. Would he come in with a blaze of light and glory or pose as a mortal man?”

Eros almost choked on the piece of lobster he was about to swallow. He wanted more than anything to confess who he was and sweep her off her feet and away to Olympus but he wasn’t allowed to. If he did; not only would he be immediately pulled back to Olympus but he would be prevented from returning to the mortal realm for one hundred years. He would lose her again and he wasn’t sure if he would be able to find her the next time.

He had opened his mouth to answer her when he saw his worst nightmare striding towards them. Clad in a diaphanous gown that floated around her ankles and clung to her breasts and hips, she was an arresting site. Despite the sexy nature of her dress, she appeared somewhat demure. Eros groaned as she made her way to the table, drawing the eye of every man in the restaurant. She stopped just short of the table, her hands on her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?” she shrieked. “Do you know who she is?”

Eros snuck a look at Psyche who was staring at Aphrodite with a look of horror. He decided to take the bull by the horns and try to distract his mother. Aphrodite wouldn’t say too much about his mission for fear she would find herself trapped on Olympus. “Yes, Mother,” he stressed her name. “I am aware of who she is. I said I would take care of it.”

Psyche reached out and touched his hand to get his attention. “This is your mother?” she questioned in shock.

“Yes. Mother, this is Psyche.” He was pleased to see Aphrodite jump at the name. “Psyche, my mother, Cytheria.” He randomly chose one of her aliases.

Aphrodite leaned down and gave her son an unexpected view down her cleavage. “You are not to romance women when you have a job to do,” she said through gritted teeth. “I know who she is.”

He stood up and grasped Aphrodite’s arm to pull her away from the table. “Excuse us, Psyche.” He dragged her away from the table. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. “You say too much and we’ll both be banished to Olympus.”

“I want her taken care of. Stop fooling around, pick an arrow, and take care of it.”

He decided he wasn’t going to lie to her, but he wasn’t exactly going to tell her the truth either. Once Psyche wasn’t human anymore, Aphrodite wouldn’t have any reason to object to her beauty. “I’ve already found the man for her,” he obfuscated. “I just wanted to give her one night with a handsome man before I hit her with the arrow.”

Her eyes lit up with malicious delight. “Is he a truly ugly man?”

“You will be most happy,” he replied.

“And you’ll take care of it tonight?”

“What better night to meet your true love than Valentine’s night? I’ll take care of it before I take her home tonight.”

Aphrodite patted him gently on the cheek. “You are my most darling son. I’ll be waiting in my temple for you to come and tell me all about it.”

He kissed her cheek, knowing it would make her happy. Any man doting on her made her happy, even if it was her son. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mother.”

She swept out of the restaurant and Eros made his way back to the table. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologized to Psyche.

“You’re mother is interesting,” she replied.

He laughed stiffly. She didn’t know how right she was. “Why don’t we have dessert packed up and I’ll walk you home? You can enjoy it later.” He signaled the waiter who quickly had the cheesecake boxed up as Eros signed for the bill.

Psyche nodded. “I’d like that. It’s getting late and I’d like to spend more time with you.”

“I’d like to spend more time with you, too, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to go home tomorrow morning and due to my work schedule I won’t be able to return for a year,” he explained as they left the restaurant.

She took his arm. “I only met you today, but I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“You seem to feel that you are the reincarnation of your greats-grandmother. Maybe I’m the reincarnation of her first love,” he said, getting as close as he dared to telling her who he was.

She giggled. “You couldn’t be the reincarnation. If her love was truly Eros, he would be immortal.”

“Maybe Eros was killed somehow and I was born to take his place,” he continued hinting to her.

“Are you saying you’re the god of love?”

He grinned beguilingly at her, then stopped and got down on one knee. “Maybe I’m just your god of love.” He reached into his pocket and removed the ring he had secreted there, holding it out to her. “Psyche, my love.” He recited the second poem he had written earlier in the day,

Dear love, dear love, if you only knew
How much my heart is in love with you,
We could be wed, and live as one,
And be together under moon, and sun.

Please come with me and be mine love;
You, as lovely as a midsummer’s dove.
I shall then hold a feast for all to see
Just how much I am in love with thee.

So will you, fair maiden, be my wife,
And come to my home, to join my life?


She looked at him in shock, then carefully took the ring from his hand. “Are you serious?”

“I have never been more serious in all my life. I have searched for you for more years than you can ever imagine. If you accept me, I would ask you to trust me and eat something. Then I will take you home with me.”

She studied the ring, the ground, and the area around them for a few minutes, looking at anything other than him. Then she handed the ring back to him. He was worried for a moment until she held her hand out. “Put it on my finger. Then give me whatever it is I need to eat and take me home. I’d be happy to be your wife.”

Getting to his feet, Eros slipped the ring on her finger, before saying, “Close your eyes and open your mouth. I’ll slip it into your mouth.” He waited until she had complied, then conjured a slice of ambrosia and slid it between her lips. “Chew,” he whispered to her. He smiled as he watched the ecstasy grace her face. Ambrosia was an indiscernible taste so he knew she wouldn’t be able to tell him anything about it. “Keep your eyes closed,” he whispered in her ear when she had swallowed. “I’m going to take you home now.” He put her arms around his neck and then wrapped his arms around her waist. “Hold tight.”

He sub-vocalized the incantation that would transport them to his home in Olympus and then closed his eyes. When they had appeared in the main hall, he stepped away from her but kept her hand in his. “Open your eyes, my love, and welcome to our home.”

“Where are we?” she asked as she took in the splendor around her. “How did we get here?”

“We’re in our home on Mount Olympus and we got here by a transportation spell.” He led her over to a divan since she looked ready to collapse. “Your greats-grandmother was telling the truth when she said her first love was Eros. I’ve been waiting thousands of years for the time and the place to be right for me to reclaim you. I have loved you for thousands of years and your soul recognizes me.” He kissed her gently. “And now, my love, we will never be separated. You just ate was ambrosia. It has made you immortal and we can live here together until the end of time.”

“We’ll be together forever?” she questioned.

“Yes, my love.”

She kissed him passionately. “I love you. Will you show me our home?”

Laughing and talking softly, they left the main hall and began to explore the place she would now call home. They would have many lifetimes to be together.


Thanks to amsinc (who has apparently left the site) for the names Tillinghast, Olympia, Bavarian Chalet and for the idea of what Eros and Psyche ate.

Thanks to SueBear for the name The Carlyle.

Thanks to involution(who has since left the site) for the name Savastovian’s Jewelers.

Special thanks to Mark C Bradley and srg_writingcom who wrote the two poems that Eros uses. I definitely couldn’t have finished this without you two.

Eros gives Psyche roses twice in the story. There are specific meanings for them. I found the meanings here: http://www.rkdn.org/roses/colors.asp

Red means Love, Beauty, Courage and Respect, Romantic Love, Congratulations, I Love You, Job Well Done, Sincere Love, Respect, Courage & Passion.
A single red rose means "I Love You".
A thornless rose means "Love at first sight".
Dark Red means Unconscious beauty.
Deep Burgundy means Unconscious Beauty.
Yellow means Joy, Gladness, Friendship, Delight, Promise of a new beginning, Welcome Back, Remember Me, and Jealousy, "I care".
Yellow with Red Tip means Friendship, Falling in Love.

© Copyright 2006 Medie (UN: medievalgirl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Medie has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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