Finished stories that feature the characters from the show, but there are no aliens. All fics completed on the main AU without Aliens board will eventually be moved here.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, WB and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement intended. I am only attempting to finish a riveting story from one point of view.
Rating: Mature
Pairings: CC /AU
Summary: Based on Native American mythology and styled as a myth
Last edited by suicide_eagle_rath on Sat Jun 16, 2007 3:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
She stood upon the mesa, walking the breadth and width, scanning the skies for the eagle that was to come to her. She had seen the dreams, she had heard the wings beating in her ears, and she had felt him in her heart. He was coming as he does every night; she had to be patience.
The eagle soared the skies as he looked for her, knowing she would be there anticipating his arrival. He glided along the currants, through the mountain passes and over the Great Plains. He strove onwards his wings pulsated with in strong powerful movements that beat out the rhythm in his heart. He climbed upwards towards the heavens as he cast his face to the ethereal lands and then dove back to earth with great speed and endurance. He had demonstrated he was worthy of the maiden, he was worthy of this life.
The eagle soared on the wind shifts, taking him towards his destiny, to his love. The muscles in his chest grew strong, with each beat of his wings. He drew closer to her, until he saw her in the distance on the mesa, waiting for him. His heart leap for her as he spurred on anxious to see her face.
She stood below him watching the eagle movements, mimicking then in dance. Her feet glided on the mesa rough surfaces as if she was on ice, her movements graceful like the eagle himself. She danced for the eagle, she sang his song, she saw the spirit of the eagle descend onto her. She smiled for him as he circled above her calling out her name. She replied as she sang out his name. Together yet parted this was their destiny, their tragedy, their joy.
For as much as they could sense the other, their thoughts, see into each other’s mind, they could not be together. They were forbidden to occupy the same existence, the same plane of reality. Only in their dreams can they come together, in human flesh. For they were cursed:” forever the eagle must fly never to touch land, and forever she must dance the eagle dance never to feel the wind under her.
He continued to fly pass her so close she could almost touch him, she felt the wind against her face. He turn and came back, he was so close he could touch her hair. She looked up at as he passed. She could see the texture of his feathers, the bumps on his talons, the glint of hopelessness in his eyes. She reached out her hands to him. She wanted to feel him again in her arms. To lay once again in their marriage bed, to know that passion taken forcibly from them.
He shook his body attempted to dislodge a feather. With great effort he managed to pull one with his beak as he glided, throwing it down to her. He circled watching as it drifted ever so slowly downwards, that time itself seemed to stop, until it rested in her small pale hands.
He screamed in pain of loss and he headed straight upward he wished to end, the nightmare to end this existence that was neither hers nor his. For he was the warrior that roamed the Great Plains, and she was once the white eagle that soared above.
He had brought this tragedy to them, for he had seen her, in the sacred teal pool located in the hidden places where man is not allowed. She had removed the wings of her heavenly domain, sheathed in human flesh as she took to the water to cleanse herself before prayers.
He watched her, enamoured by her beauty, her spirit, her soul. He was mesmerized as he drew closer and closer. Finally he revealed himself to her, as he entered the pool, forbidden to a mere mortal. He took her in his arms and spoke of eternal love, of carnal pleasures, of a life of children, old age, and death. To be with her from now till the sun was never to rise again.
This human lover encased her heart as she let herself be married to him, to join him in the nuptial bed. The night spelt for passion, as she has never dreamt of. Love eternal, as their souls were blended one to the other. His people called him Max of the Great Plains, for he was a fearless hunter, a great provider for them. She had no name, from the beginning of time she was just the White Eagle. When he joined to her he gave her a human name, Liz of the Sacred Pool, for she could change like the lizard in the myths.
Yet great evil lurked near them, a powerful force that wanted the white eagle to himself. He knew of her nightly baths and came to the pool and shed his own coat of black, to draw her into his marriage bed. Yet when he arrived at the sacred pool all he saw was her feathers, in the existence her heard the laughter of lovers, the moans of pleasure, the air was charged with sexual energy.
He drew close to the noises and saw them embraced in passion. He watched as a mortal man made her his wife, as he pleasured her and she cried out his name. He looked at her angelic face as she was consumed by organisms; her lover flooded her inside with his seed.
He grew furious that she chose another, and when he saw it was a human the anger inside him exploded. He called forth the ancient spells to damn the lovers. He called forth and demanded retribution for his heart. He called forth and produced the tragedy that they must live with daily now.
The lovers had not seen the man standing there, half-human half-coyote, they were only one to the other. Then as light of the sun began to creep over the mountains, the man began to feel odd as the transformations had begun. His supple lips grew hard into a beak, his muscle arms took on feathers, and his feet became talons. Soon he could not longer speak but screamed out the eagle song. He took to the sky, the sound of his wings deafen the silliness.
Seeing what had happened she ran to the pool to adorn herself in the feather to join him in the air, But she could not transform, the feathers would not take shape to her body. She looked in to the pool and saw herself in human form, never allowed to be immortal again. She would not feel the wind under her wings, nor see the land from so far up.
The eagle flew off, the animal in him taking control as what was left human fought to return to her. She stayed on that mesa, took to the pool nightly to ask for redemption. She sang the eagles song as scanned the skies for him. Soon he returned, a part of him remembered her, remembered his former life.
Day after day he would circle her, call down to her. Day after day she sang the songs to him. Day after day the coyote would watch in pleasure at his actions, then one day he approached her. Offering to cast a spell that would return her to the skies. In return for her devotion to him, to lie in his bed, to accept his body in hers, he would make the man human again. He left her to think, to decide as he walked away, confident that the next night she would be his to do as he saw fit. He would first punish her for giving herself to a mortal, she would beg for death as he plotted put his abuse and rape of her. There was only one other way to break the spell, and the coyote was sure they would never do that.
When the eagle returned she told him that she had a way to make him mortal again. She would break the spell, do what she had to do. The eagle screamed out her name as it echoed across the canyon, he would die before he allowed her to be tarnished like that. She looked up with sorrow filled eyes, as she stopped the eagle dance, turning she ran as fast as he could off the edge of the mesa.
For a few minutes she flew, before she plummeted to the ground. The eagle charged after her, embracing her as they both fell the last few feet. Then silence, the earth was still, no one spoke, no one sang. The valley floor cried out as she felt the two bodies’ impact, a man embraced by a white eagle.
The Great Spirit, he that over sees all, saw the sacrifice and ordered the coyote to stand before him to explain his actions. The coyote had no excuse except jealousy; a dead heart claimed his chest. The Great Spirit damned the coyote to the night, to live alone, never to take the white eagle as his own. Coyote sulked away, as he left the presence of the Great Spirit, he passed the valley floor where she saw his beloved dead in his arms. He turned his head to the moon and howled out his pain then turned and ran.
But they were not dead, for love cannot die, it merely transforms. They sacrificed one for the other, it was this act that broke the spell and set back time to that night by the sacred pool.
The white eagle freely removed her feathered shell and chose to be mortal. They were joined again in the marriage bed, this time they union produced a child to seal their existence on this earth, They built their home on that mesa, where their children learned the eagle songs and danced for the eagles. The man and woman, the human Max and Liz, lived a long life, filled with much joy and contentment. The saw their children have children and them have children. At the end they slept peacefully in each other’s arms, as they own life quietly ended.
The descendants of the white eagle still look to the sky and sing the eagle song, the song of devotion, the song of love the song of sacrifice.
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