The Typo Queen (dorksidefiker) wrote,
The Typo Queen


Title: Goddess
Author: dorksidefiker
Fandom: Original
Table/Prompt: Table B/62. Dity
Character/Pairing: Rowena Mox-Xanathos, Jakob
Rating: PG
Word Count: 511
Summary: Ask and ye shall receive.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Mine!

The water in the bucket slopped over the edge as Jakob plunged the mop in. He leaned against the handle and breathed in deeply, then coughed. The incense was thick in the air of the sanctuary, hanging about in wispy clouds that made him sneeze and left a thin coating of suet all over everything. The water was already grey, and he had only just started. He was dreading the alter, where the incense burned. He looked up as the priest passed by the sanctuary, pausing only a moment to glare in at him. Jakob tried to look repentant, but the priest’s frown only grew deeper before he moved on. Jakob raised his eyes to the statue that loomed above the alter, clearly visible to him for the first time that he could remember. Normally, the sanctuary was kept shrouded in darkness, lit only by the candles.

The triple goddess loomed above him, rising from the floor to the far distant ceiling. Legend had it the statue was carved from a single block of black marble by her father in celebration of the building of the temple. Jakob wasn’t sure he believed that, but whatever it was that had made the twenty foot statue was impressive. Three woman stood back to back, one a girl, one a woman in the midst of pregnancy, and the third a crone. All three bore a long, hooked nose and high cheek bones. Legend stated that the three were the Dark Goddess in her three forms, the Twilight Child, Mother of Shadows, and the Final Darkness.

“Goddess help me,” he sighed, resuming his cleaning efforts. Punishment for repainting the fountain in the courtyard, a much smaller reproduction of the statue looming over him. The priests had been less than impressed with his artistic endeavors.

“What are you doing?”

Jakob yelped, spinning around. A black haired, tan girl was lingering just outside the sanctuary, looking at him with mild curiosity. She held a pile of rags in her hands. He scrambled for the handle of the mop, trying to catch it before it fell. She blinked, seeping her hair out of her face. “Hi,” she said. “I’m here to help.”


Rowena perched on the edge of the alter, admiring her reflection in the highly polished stone. The room smelled of lemon, with lingering traces of incense. The high priest knelt before her, head bowed. “I like him,” she said thoughtfully.

“He’s impertinent, and he doesn’t believe.”

Rowena grinned slightly. “I know. He’s got potential. You’ll talk to his parents. I want to start with him as soon as possible.”

The priest looked up sharply, eyes wide and mouth agape. “You can’t be serious.”

“I intend to take the boy off world with me when I leave. I have enough priests, but I could use a good apprentice. Or a good laugh. Either way.”
Tags: original

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