All finished stories from the Unconventional Couples board, the Crossover board, and the Alien Abyss boards will eventually be moved here. See those forums for descriptions.
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: UC
Summary: Isabel/Vilandra decides to choose her destiny.
Last edited by suicide_eagle_rath on Sun Jun 10, 2007 11:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
<center> The Sword is Mightier Than the Pen </center>
The story droned on, the same old spiel, a beautiful princess, a handsome warrior, a fearless king, and of course a devoted queen. Then somewhere down the line, as the words became old, not appealing to imagination anymore, things changed took a turn for the worse.
The princess became a traitor to her people causing millions to die in a blood soaked coup. The King became weak in his ability to rule. The Queen became a self absorb little tramp who slept with anyone. Then the warrior became nothing more than a yes man. Their fairy tale kingdom fell; they all died only to be reborn into a new life.
This times even their names changed, she was no longer Vilandra the imperial princess, wife to the power warrior Rath, now she was now Isabel, still sister to her brother the king, but those who now had the say separated her from her warrior and changed her past. They were sent to a place called Roswell and given the nickname ‘the pod squad’.
Where they had eaten in the royal setting they now ate and even work in a placed called the Crashdown, commemorating their own ship crashing into earth and killing many aboard.
They had known death; they had known life. Each time the words that were spoken ended in their death, the methods varied though with each new recitation. Their new lives were hard; they were shadows of their former selves. She yearned for that life, the richness of the palace, the touch of her lover’s hand upon her body. She was now tortured by one affair after another from the vile Ki’var to his henchman Nicholas and then even swapped around to any older man that happened to pop on the set. She had lost her way in the story, she had to find a way out.
She grew tired of the moniker Ice Princess, the separation from her beloved, the way she had to hide who and what she was. The words now demeaned them all from her brother right as a king he now was a doctor, not a leader. Her beloved, a powerful warrior now could not control his powers as he blew op things unknowably. The new stories were replicas of each other same, different words, different scenes, different people added, but it ended the same way.
Her heart was heavy with the thought that she was now tied to the blood that destroyed her home. She had no interest in this usurper to the throne, this Ki’var. She was madly in love with her warrior, the great protector for their realm, Rath; his blood had help secure the throne for her brother Zan. It was his long blonde hair, classical features, tight ass and pecs that she was entranced by. It was he that Isabel still dreamed of in the dead of the night, of the happy laughing child they were to have.
Why was she subjected to being fondle and kissed by Ki’var a greasy looking monkey of a male, what ill had she caused to be written off so. No woman would deliberately be lead in to his arms; none would kiss those cracked dry thin lips. She was in the book of destiny; she was to be with Rath, now called Michael. Could no one see, did none care? What fallacies they have become, even the Grandolith failed to transport them back in time, to the past, to happier days.
As she looked back upon her life, she had always did as she was told, a woman who was control by the will of society. But she now grew tired of such actions, she was ready to lead the revolution, to break free. She desired her own being, her own soul, to live as she saw fit. She had to change things create her life with her beloved.
With that Vilandra learned to take up the sword, in secret she practiced her craft, honing her skills, when she was not needed for the story to continue. She learned to wield the heavy sword with precision, to strike suddenly, accurately. Her lover would be pleased with her, for Rath was magnificent with a sword. She loved to see him with a sword in his hand, his muscles strained, the sun glinting off the sweat. He was a spectacular specimen that is how she saw him, the real Rath. But others wanted to see him as oafish, inferior to her brother the King when in reality they were both marvelous specimens of males, equal to each other, great in their friendship and love of one to the other.
Then one day, while in the forest near her palace in that place where they wrote that he, the vile creature first kissed her, she heard the noise. Far above her that constant tapping, it always annoyed her. The others seemed never to sense it, but she could. She knew what was coming, there again she would be paired with that animal, she could not use enough lye soap to get his smell off her body. The time had come before he touched her again and she was forced to endure his body on hers.
She closed her eyes and concentrated, entering the world of dreams, the unknown plane where none of them had ventured before. She went beyond the shadow dreams of the characters and into the mind of the creator. There she confronted the tapping, the endless scribbles. She drew her sword and faced the object called a pen symbolizing the creator.
With a yell of fury the battle commenced, each side gaining only to lose. The sword and the pen clashed over and over, but Vilandra did not give up. Isabel entered the scene separately also wielding her own sword, where there was one now stood two. She had grown strong in her own right and now as a team, they were a force to be reckoned with.
They fought back the pen, striking at the words, at the sentences that spoke of Ki’var as her lover. They struck deep into the heart of the meanings and changed them with the edge of the sword. They struck in unison, severing the silver ties that bound them to this existence. Slowly they hear the scribbles deafen, the tapping silenced. The pen began to fade with the last cut of their swords it disappeared; they were free of the pen.
Isabel and Vilandra joined together as a single unit, leaving the dream plane and stepping into another beginning. She appeared UFO Museum, standing in front of her was her husband, he reached out his arms to her. She was home, for the first time in so long she was at peace, happy in knowing this time the ending would change. This time her son would be born. This time she and Michael/Rath would grow old together and die in each other’s arms, peacefully, in love.
