tumblr_mqytbptdbi1qcz8ujo1_1280By that meaning a lot of very vivid dreams.

One of which involved Lu. Which is strange, because before I went to bed last night I said to him, ‘I miss dreaming about you, think you can throw me a bone here?’ And he answered, ‘of course’. Well, I did. I dreamed I was in what basically amounted to a home that looked very Grecian, pillared and marble, except everything was in shades of silver and black. And there was a party and lots of fancy guests drinking champagne and mingling.

And then Lu comes out in current dress, and taps his glass and says he has an announcement to make. And then when he has everyone’s attention proceeds to tell everyone that he’s marrying me right there on the spot.

Uhm. O___O

Someone I didn’t recognize, who was dressed like a catholic priest, comes out of nowhere, then, and wraps our hands together in a swath of black silk (I think in the dream I just about nearly fainted). There were words exchanged between us-things that were arduous but I couldn’t recite word for word. After the vows were exchanged there was lots of cheering, the party went on for a short while, and then Lu dismissed everyone and I remember there being a long line at the door for people writing their names in something that resembled a guest book (though with Lu, who knows). Lu sent everyone home with ‘party favors’ that comprised of laptops, iphones and ipads, digital cameras, tvs, ect.

I woke up after this dream and I felt quite overwhelmed. I mean honestly.

~August, 2013

It was an occasion for a thousand years.

It started off as scattered whispers. No, there was no way it could have been true. That The Prince had come upon a mortal that had caught his fancy. Was it possible? Of course, there were plenty of other Gods that did so.  To them, it wasn’t that the idea was so foreign. Mephistopheles had plenty of human concubine, after all. Samael often took mortal women. Why should The Morning Star be any different? For he was a ruler, and it was his concern only who he claimed as his own.

No, what marked it was that, for the first time in ages, Lucifer’s family grew.

From the rumors of the occurrence itself, came those of conjecture. It was a fling. Perhaps The Morningstar really had grown too lonely, so entrenched was he in his kingdom of ice and darkness, no one had thought warmth could ever come to those frozen eyes of jade ever again. Who had caught his attention? It couldn’t last. The Morningstar was prone to his wanderings. No one woman could wait, patiently, while he went in search for his silly truths and whatever other whims crossed his mind. No human heart could bear the torture of the distance of eternities. It was, they knew, the passion of the MorningStar that would crush whatever accursed creature he set his sights upon, for what The Morningstar loved, he pursued, to the end of creation and back, and never released.

So the invitations took everyone by surprise. But those, too, the recipients only raised an eyebrow at, and wondered when The Adversary would tire of the folly.

No one expected that The Morningstar had made his vows on the endless, abyssal river that flowed through all creation; or that such an oath was unbreakable, even by a god. That those same vows had been sealed with a blood and a kiss.

The invitations cited the place and the time, realms between realms. Formalwear, it said, but there were mitigating circumstances. Guests who turned up at the ceremony were surprised to see the pillared halls and marvelous archways flooded ankle deep with clear water that danced and reflected off the white walls, and made the black marble floor nearly silver, like a mirror. Champagne of the finest sort was served in crystal glasses and served on platters of platinum, carried by attendants in black coats with tails that trailed after.

The bride, to any of them, even beneath their human skins, might not have been anything miraculous. Her hair and eyes a charcoal black to match the simple inky black gown she wore, that trailed after her on the surface of the water. Here she was thin, pale, but otherwise very much a visage of her mortal self. They paid her compliments, of course; there was no telling if His Highness was indeed watching, and on this eve, it was a sure fact the Prince of the Underworld would tolerate no slight of his mortal bride to be. Still, the girl looked almost lost in the crowd. There was no recognition for any of them on her face, and she flit between small clusters of people with her wine in her hand and a dreamy, almost blushing expression. Like the flood under their feet, the small diamonds in her ears and about her next glittered off of her skin. It was a black fairy tale, and there was not a single one of them who was not taken aback by the lengths to which The Morningstar had gone to shower his blushing wife with every amenity in his arsenal.

The Morningstar Himself had dawned a mortal skin of his own for the occasion, and were it possible, it made his bride blush even more. Like the mortal woodcuts that had depicted His Highness over the years, his hair was golden and curled, his cheekbones cut and high; his tuxedo an impeccable cut on his lean frame. His poise was every bit it’s usual-proud, like the peacock he held sacred, his grace evident in the way he went gliding through the crowd. He thanked them for their attendance, bowed to them when it was his title that towered far above them. The Morningstar had made himself low for the love of an aging human woman, and it confounded them.

None of them knew the being which officiated, but The Morningstar caught their attention by tapping a silver fork against the crystal of a wineglass, and dressed his bride up even more, were it possible, with amorous words and declarations of love that would defeat the stars with it’s endlessness. The bride only ducked her head inside the lengths of her black hair, but nearly all of them could smell the saline of the tears that dripped from her eyes. For many of them, it was a throwback to a time they had thought long since gone. . . when love was an honest thing, when it was untainted by disillusion and bitterness and lies. When there had been true innocence in the dawn of the cosmos. And wasn’t that ironic for a Ruler of the coldest depths of Hell.

They came together like the sea and the sky; their respective elements, and their hands were wrapped together in a length of black silk. The Mourningstar Wept, and put his lips to hers, and she wept also. And maybe some of them did, too. There was a moment of resounding silence before the applause, and the sentiment in it went unspoken. With so much distance, with so much time and space between the new and happy couple, how well would they persevere? Would it stand the trial of eons, of life and death? That much remained to be seen.

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They were sent away with gifts, all of them. Lucifer took his bride on his arm, and like two drops of water, they hovered on the edge of merging. They waved each guest goodbye, even pausing for some moments to read through the guestbook as everyone slowly departed, breaking away from their respective cliques and conversations. It boggled their minds, to see their Prince pouring over that same book and smiling, his fingers tangling with hers, the sonorous note of his baritone echoing a bemused chuckle when she moved to tuck her own laugh in the crisp fabric of his coat.

It wasn’t just a taste of Heaven for the couple that said their vows on that evening, in a dreamland somewhere far away. It was a reminder that even demons, fallen and cast aside, could still fall in love and make their own.

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