Silver Light

The moon hung in the sky, a brilliant white against the black of the sky. No stars were out tonight, the moon the only source of light. It cast its silvery glow over everything, casting an ethereal shine to everything. The light fell on the small pool of water that stood in the middle of a grove of trees, a small babbling brook leading up to it.

The trees were so dark a green that, in the shadows of the night, they looked black. A soft wind blew through their leaves, rustling them, tugging on them. A few blew from their branches to dance in the wind, swirling and dipping in a mad array of patterns.

One of the leaves landed in the moonlight hair of a young woman. She stood in the cold light, letting it penetrate into her very soul. The moon turned her skin to alabaster, and her eyes shone like two blue-white diamonds.

The swirling breeze caught at her long, light blue nightgown, dancing it around her legs as well. The fabric felt deliciously smooth against her smooth skin, and she tilted her head into the wind, letting her pale hair swirl in the breeze.

The soft scent of roses and violets, hey and grass reached her nose, and she inhaled, smiling softly. The air tasted and smelled so sweet tonight, so pure and good. It raced across her flesh, sending tingling sensations through her body as she sighed.

The wind had never felt so soft on her skin; it was almost like her lover's caress. The girl tilted her head back on her neck, exposing her throat to the moon.

The skin of her throat was even paler then the rest of her moon-dappled flesh. It shone like polished moonstone in the light, nearly glowing with the mysterious light that radiated from her. The light came from her inner self, shining brighter then in ever had before.

The moonlit girl hugged herself tightly, warmth suddenly flittering through her body, shooting through her like wildfire. Never in her life had she felt so---alive. She wanted to throw her head back and laugh, and dance and love in the moonlight, her hair floating out behind her as she swirled and dipped like on of the leaves that blew so crazily in the wind.

A laugh bubbled up inside of her and exploded out, ringing through the air like a bell. Again and again she laughed, feeling the pure joy of unconditional love flow through her. This was what it was like to be loved, to be truly loved.

This was what it felt like to wake up every morning to a smile and a kiss and the scent of pine and man. This was what it was like to fall asleep under the watchful gaze of the golden warrior cradling you against his chest, and the tender lover stroking your hair.

This was what it was like to be the love of one good man.

This was what it was like light up with love for that man, to feel your heart swell so badly that your half afraid that if you don't let your love out that you may burst. This was what it was like to love some one so completely that you don't know where they stop and where you began.

It was a wonderful, joyous feeling that made her want to dance in the moonlight, let the wind blow through her hair and feel the soft kiss of his lips on her mouth.

The girl whirled around in the light, holding her arms out as though she wanted to catch all the light that was raining down from the heavens. Wanted to catch it all and hold it inside, where it could join with her inner light, the light of love, and become like a beacon in the dark.

A beacon in the darkness, to lead him back to her arms, to lead him back to his woman, the woman who loved him, who needed him. The woman that would wait, had waited, until the end of time for him, and him alone.

The wind began again, to blow through the trees, and ruffled the hem of the knee length tee shirt she wore. The light color shimmered in the moonlight, and she sighed, clasping her hands under her cheek. Her fingers were warm, surprisingly enough.

Suddenly, an urge, a desire, like none she had never known before raced through her. Laughing again, her voice floating out across the fairy tale glade, the girl began to dance.

Her small feet flickered across the dewy blades of green, each reaching into the sky like they wanted to caress one of those alabaster feet. Each time she brought one down, they struck one of the blades, and it bleed, leaking it's green blood onto her foot.

Soon the pure white of her skin was gone, replaced by little flicks of green that decorated her nearly to her knee. And still she danced on, her laughter ringing across the grove, reaching to the farthest corners of the night sky.

And there, under the soft silver of the moon, Tabitha Smith discovered what it was like to be in love. Darkchilde's Stories