Noctisardor Bypass ave verum corpus

sorry eb i know we have our other one still but i just have so much muse LMFAO no rush on this! keeping vague timeline wise <3

andras built his chapel from nothing.
the giant was where he chose for the procession. he spent an entire afternoon plucking wildflowers and scattering them beneath the shaded base. the stream, too, was set with rosepetals and christened with fresh wild yarrow, dancing along the rocks and glittering with droplets in the sunlight. on the bank laid skinned meat and a handful of sweet berries, plucked from the pharmacy and fermented just for an occasion such as this. filtering between leaves was now the sunburst glow of evening.
it was delicate. intimate. holy.
the father's head tips back in a call for @Heda, chest thudding with a long dormant anticipation.

making some assumptions! <3 tags for ref!

@Druid had left rivenwood to isolate herself, and heda did not think she had experienced such a loneliness since the death of caracal. she was on autopilot,
hunting for the children and quietly answering their questions.
more than once she had laid inside the den of dawnleaf, crying out, asking god to please protect druid, to not do this. to not take more.
she tried not to think of @Anselm at all, forcing herself not to avoid him, despite the fact that every tendril of his pathways twisted her spirit with the seed of rejection.
the giant, rendezvous and now altared place, was where she found amadeo.
vulnerable, she tried to toss off the veil of her sorrow, golden eyes moving over the glowing evening light which illuminated the beauty of his offerings.
the scent of roses were in her nose when she finally glanced curiously at amadeo, warm despite the strain on her pale features.

what has happened?
something was wrong. he had not seen heda in only a few days, and in that time — she changed. she is sallowed and vulnerable, metaphorical robes drawn over her chest and yet revealing a sliver of olive skin. something was wrong; truly wrong.
which meant andras had an opportunity.
he invites her to sit with him, gesturing to the meat and to the berries. i believe i am meant to say peace be with you, he tries to form a light tone, create safety in the soiled and tense air. but you do not look so peaceful.

she was not sure what to say; her eyes fell with appreciation upon the prettiness of the repast, but her stomach was too put upon by her own mental convolutions to consider eating. 
anxiously worrying the stem of a flower between her forepaws, heda tried to think of what excuse she could give to cover druid — but she did not need one.
"my last oldest children, they've gone, in the night. it's just the boys and i now." ezra and gideon and their failure of a mother.
tears spilled crystalline down her face; "why did god give me so many blessings, so many children to love, if he was just going to take them away one by one? why did he give me this heart," heda sobbed, "if he was just going to break it again and again?"
and now, poor fool she felt she was, the red-nape was crying for anselm too.

within seconds, it seemed, heda was crying, and if she were anyone else, he would have struck her.
instead, he reaches for her, guiding her slender face toward his chest in an embrace, resting his head tenderly atop her own. he breathes in the saltpine of her scent and when he closes his eyes, he can almost feel shaba.
uncomfortable as it was to have a female release their feminine emotions unto his grace, he allows it for a time, listening to her wavering voice. he almost feels a twinge of sadness for her, burning somewhere unknown, deep and low within him.
everything happens for a reason, he reminds her softly. god has a plan for you, heda. he does not want you to feel this pain. and you will not forever.

it felt so good to be held, to be cradled, to feel small and protected against the heartbeat of one who was stronger, who knew more. heda sagged with relief in his arms, her tears finding a crescendo as her nails curled into the fur of his chest — then a slackening, grief finding its gentle fade as her shoulders shook and the sobs quietly slowed.
"what plan, amadeo?" voice muffled somewhat. "a year of pain? how much m-more?"
and her questions were not rhetorical, not really; heda was clutching for something through the man, a wisdom that would allow her to suffer in peace. and this she could do, if only she knew that god would one day uplift her. 
the clock ticked a sullen sound.

her sorrow, her anguish, gilded with golden arrows. he drinks from it as if it is his lifeblood.
allow me to guide you, he says it gingerly, more a plead than a command. renew yourself. bathe in the water and be born-again. He will see it, see you, and He will reward your faith.
crickets sing their hymnals. the father pulls away in modesty, jaw grinding; after my wife died, and my kids left, i felt-- i was at my rock bottom. i had lost everything. my family, and my home, and-- for a year, i wished only to go with her. i roamed, i mourned. i almost-- i almost lost touch with God. but then;
i turned back to Him. and He brought me to rivenwood. to you. and i think, he reaches for her again, cups her slender jaw with a calloused palm. he brought us together to help one another.
vulnerable. tender. chameleon.
do you trust Him, heda? he asks, breath caught tight in his throat. do you trust me?

hope, so honeyed, mingled with the bitterness upon her tongue. hope, the taste of which was undeserved. heda gazed steadily up at amadeo, and her eyes were filled with the fear of it, the unsurety, and yes, the desire for the golden thing which he held upon roughened palms and offered now.
she wished to be remade, to be held like this again and again; heda's lashes fluttered, the corners of her eyes tightening in the near-painful pleasure of his caress upon her cheekbone.
"i trust god," she managed at last, for what other choice did she have but to trust in him?
amadeo's pain was familiar, and there was such a need in heda to be guided; "i trust you."
the silence that held was — comforting. 
she knew she would need to seek out anselm, but she shoved his eyes so far from her mind, lifting her own delicate paw to cover that of amadeo as he held her face upturned to his.
if god had a plan, then let him be this.

she, a moth; he, a spider. she looks at him as if he holds the key to the universe in his teeth, and he swallows it as he holds her stare.
she is his, whether she knows it now or not.
i'm glad, heda, he dips his muzzle down against her temple, almost daring to kiss the soft weakness of her skull. let me help you. come here.
the creek babbles behind them, waiting eagerly to embrace the desperate maiden; to rid her of all the tragedy which seemed to permeate her, to make her new.
andras can see it now, how she'd look by next spring; flower petals strewn about her billowing nape, ripe with new young which will be born with the mark of the Savior. for she is not shaba, and she will not be treated as such, he decides now; she —
is the Holy Mother.
he guides her down until she is seated with her back turned to the waters. tenderly, intimately, he smooths down the flyaways at her cheeks, dries her eyes, caresses her slender shoulders.
you look heavenly, he murmurs, and his smile is earnest, light peeking through a cracked door. are you ready?

it felt good, also, to be guided; to be arranged and posed and gazed down upon with a reverent affection that sent her heart into a gallop. anselm had never looked at her this way.
and neither had caracal. not like this. with love, always, with reverence, often, with adoration, each day.
this was different. heda tasted amadeo's worship in the air, and the force of it loosed her thin shoulders into a visible shiver at his light touch.
her skin was alive, alive as she did not think it had before, and her slim head bobbed in an earnest nod, offering a soft "yes" before mouth unhinged itself at the roil of sensation beneath her skin.

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: cracks my fucking KNUCKLES this is gonna be a doozy >:D cw for the most sacrilegious baptism u are ever going to witness; suggestion/innuendo abound, general delusional fuckery

that utterance was all that was needed.
the father feels the heat beneath her skin, the way it practically melts him; every cell in his body tells him to devour her, and yet he mustn't! he cannot, not yet! but oh, lord, it is clear in his eyes in that moment as his modest veil falters. the tremor of her supple skin, the way her jaw falls open — he could fall to his knees right then and there and worship her as she so deserved, this wondrous godhead who had fallen graciously into his lap.
heda was no concubine. not even a mere wife. she was woman, the woman; such a glorious personification of the Virgin; and he would own her in entire.
he exhales a wonderfully husky breath, peeling away to lower his head between his elbows as he begins.

hear the words of our Lord;

all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.
go therefore and make disciples of all nations,
baptizing them in the name of the Father
and of the Son
and of the Holy Spirit,
and teaching them to obey everything that i have commanded you.
and remember, i am with you always, to the end of the age.

O Lord, i present to you heda redhawk, who brings herself forth to receive the sacrament of baptism. beloved of God, you stand before Us, and i ask you, therefor, before Him, to reject evil; to profess your faith in Our Lord; and confess to the faith of the church. do you, dear heda, renounce sin and the power of evil in your life and in the world?
will you be a faithful follower, and through worship and service, seek to advance His will here and upon the world?
do you promise to obey, to be an example of His grace and character, to be a devoted disciple, to accept your purpose as His child as long as you shall live?
and if she is to answer yes, to tell him that she does and that she will, he will proceed.
he raises a paw, caressing, anointing; his touch roves from her forehead to her shoulders and to her breast; if she will allow, he brushes her eyes closed for her. heda, child of the covenant, i baptize you in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
one strong arm wraps around her waist, her pulse hammering against his own. he watches as her head disappears beneath the current and diligently he pulls her up again, the very same way he had done to tens of his followers before; but this time, it is different.
in baptism, you are sealed by the Spirit and marked as a daughter of Christ forever. in the name of our Lord, you are now received into His council, His family. joyfully, we receive you.
where normally he would by now have released a Child from his embrace, he cannot seem to remove himself from her. he stands frozen, awestruck, a guttural whine of pure, primal want released from under his breath.

:O! <3

amadeo was consumed by all all-righteous fervency which swept heda with its beautiful anticipation. if there was ever a moment in which she had truly felt pure, truly felt new, it was this one.
he spoke with such wisdom that she felt as though this flowered bower was indeed a sanctuary inhabited only by he, by she, and by god. rapturous, hanging upon each movement offered by the holy man.
yes, the first time, heda redhawk ready to receive the sacrament of baptism;
yes, and she felt the leap of faith inside her as fierce and as radiant as it had been that first day she knew that the living word moved within her.
yes, yes to obedience, yes to herself subsumed in sacred service to the god who had never forsaken her, never left her side, and heda knew it now.
forehead; shoulders; breastbone; she quaked again at the intimacy of that gesture and shut her eyes again.
a pair of heartbeats galloping as he lowered her beneath the water, and pulled her up through the blessed deluge to him again;
we receive you.
but heda knew the look in his eye, sensed that beyond the zealotry which bound them with bloom-fragrant bonds, there was more to the way he held her so easily in the crook of his arm, and gazed down into her face with such an all-knowing intensity that she could not look away for any reason.
"i receive you."

i receive you
the elder eagle nearly snapped in that moment, nearly fell away to the desire which raged in a visceral and primal way he had never felt for any female before. this was different for him as it was for her; so, so different; she submitted wholly to him so readily, his reverence slicing through her like a hot knife through butter. it was delicious, this burning, and if he could he would capture this energy in a jar and preserve its righteousness for all eternity.
amadeo, andras, prophet, god-mouth.
i receive you
you are radiant, discepola, oh, he cannot control himself! his desires are unleashed innocently in the form of tiny peppered love-bites to the lobe of her ear, her jaw, her shoulder. look at yourself, heda. look at how He made you, he reaches for her hand and guides it down the length of her torso, over her thighs. i receive you.
how disgustingly sinful it would be to ravish her here, hair still soaked with droplets of holy water, and yet he cannot stop himself from considering it with a breathy sigh.