Bountiful Expression
Love is a precious thing that can conquer all, but it cannot defeat the evils of loneliness. This is a small story about a harem tigress who expresses the loss of her love, and tells of the treasure love left behind.
"Bountiful Expression"
by Juna of Sofurry (http://juna.sofurry.com)
Bountiful expression of the gravid dancer.
She embodied the allure of the feline from her graceful dances to the sublime flow of her movements. Somewhere in the luxury of her existence a handsome stranger loved her. His strong arms protected her against the woes of what she feared. No one dare think to pursue the lovely goddess. But what this suitor forgot was: with love comes a precious price.
Passionate unions filled the garden of the maiden with his potent essence. The seed of the male wove a delicate magic in the dancer's depths. She fell under love's spell just as he had, this was no one's fault. What the two could never fathom was the truth. Her tears nearly tore him apart. Why did he have to leave? Why?
She was shaking in his arms and hiding among the folds of her shawl. The world was changing, seeking to pull him from the arms of the tigress. His time in the realm of decadence was over. She knew tears welled in her eyes, streaming down till they stained his leather jerkin. He thumbed away the last tear to tumble pass her trembling muzzle.
The kiss was loving. He fought back the pain squeezing at his heart. A lone tiger had given him love, taken his own agony, and sealed him in a gossamer cocoon of adoration. He felt lifted and admired. The stranger bid one last farewell to his "queen" and to his "little ones". He hurried into the moonlit night and disappeared among the waving veils surrounding the goddess's chamber.
Gone. The stranger was gone. This goddess fell to the marble floor, clutching at her knees till she was nothing more than a sobbing debacle.
* * *
The maharajah entertained the richest lords and kings of his empire. He called for the "queen" that evening. She arrived in silken attire as his most beloved angel. Faces of the fat and noble glared at the extravagant tigress made into a spectacle. Her mighty ruler clapped for her to start. The dance this evening was to weave a tale of sorrow. In the grand audience hall all eyes were on the queen of the harem.
She stood with her arms held high. The expression she conveyed held sadness. Her lower lip trembled and the musicians began the raga. Nothing could stop her. The great ruler of the empire wished to be amused. With all the wealth he possessed he could never compare to the greatest treasure within her. Inside the belly of the prized tigress existed the bounty of the stranger. A man who she loved and prayed would return. Music blared and the crowds murmured. Let the tyrant have his show. He will never have her most beloved joy.