Gratitude

The change in the room sent a shiver down her spine, and not a good one. A familiar feeling washed over her, but it did nothing to soothe her. You see, this feeling of want and desire scared her. Lust, want, sexual desire – they weren’t things she wanted or craved. She craved and wanted love – of the pure and true sort – which she knew eventually led to this sort of a feeling but she didn’t want it to precede it. It clicked then, why she feared Frey so much. In addition to their power over humans like her, their nature scared her. Someday it might not, when and if she found love (she wasn’t uptight you see, she just wanted to love the person she gave herself to and desired), but for now, Frey’s very being caused an innate, uncontrollable negative reaction in her. Frey was Lust and Pleasure, she was Innocence and Purity, and the only place they might cross was in the feeling of Love. But love wasn’t something she could have, was it? She was overlooked by men as a whole. All she wanted personally was to have a husband to love, children to care for, a house to tend – but she wasn’t enough to catch anyone’s interest. It surprised her as her insecurities suddenly surfaced, the ones bullied into her subconscious by unkind girls her age. She wasn’t pretty enough. She wasn’t curvy enough. She was too plain. She was too poor. She was just a common, working girl with nothing to offer. No man would ever love her or want her. It scared her to think that a god whose nature incited such feelings had given her more unintended notice than any mortal man ever had. Alone, forever – was that her lot in life? Phoebe, do. Not. Cry. Slowly she turned and saw Frey laying there, in an atmosphere that frankly wasn’t dissimilar to her old clinic. It exuded comfort and warmth in a way – but was of course more effective than anything she had ever made. Frey did appear in a masculine form to her eyes, since that was what her natural inclination was, yet so indistinct that she wasn’t sure if it was from her lack of experience or an actual lack of clarity in the vision of the god. Her eyes dropped quickly, reverently. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” She said first, sincerely. Honestly, she hadn’t expect them to show up… then again she hadn’t known what to expect. But she felt she should be sorry. This was a powerful god and she a weak mortal woman – certainly she was bothersome it was only logical. Her true desire was just to thank them…though it seemed that her reasoning for thanking Frey wasn’t wanted. “Whether you did it for me or not, I still benefitted.” She said. Unlike others who beckoned gods to demand answers or simply to see if they could, Phoebe’s intent had been less selfish. Gratitude for the mercy shown, whether intended for her benefit or not, was still owed to beings of such power. The appearance of a grape surprised her and her eyes widened a bit. She took it gently but didn’t eat it – she was too nervous, her stomach tying in knots. She did not deserve to be in the presence of such a being – she was nothing by comparison. ”Thank you.” she said. If this god could sense her internal intentions, certainly her sincerity would ring clear. There were things she wanted in life, but she wanted nothing from the God, per say. That hadn’t been what this had been about. It had been intended as a quiet reverence, and she felt guilty to have misstepped. Then suddenly a cup of tea appeared in her hand, and her surprise was again obvious. Phoebe was a pretty open book to anyone observant, and she was certainly more so to the mind of a god. The beckoning of Frey made her feet move without her bidding. She thought that what Frey wanted for gratitude was some sort of sexual act – it scared her to think it the case. But you don’t love Frey and Frey wouldn’t love you even if you did and threw yourself at their feet. You’re nothing. It was the thought at the back of her mind. For her the two came hand in hand and to be expected to give one without the other was against her nature. But her nature was inferior to that of a god. She had no choice. Her gift, as well intentioned and innocent as it had been, had not been enough. Of course it wasn’t. Her best intentions weren’t enough for a mortal man, it would not be enough for a god either. The blonde knelt before Frey, chin tilted forward with her eyes cast down out of respect. She knew her place. She would not insult a god with undeserved ego or pride. Nor would she insult them by trying to lie. “I…I don’t know what you want as gratitude. I assumed once falsely and don’t wish to insult you again... and even if my new assumption is correct this time, I am sorry I don’t know how.” Phoebe was still a virgin. She had never even been kissed. She knew the mechanics of how things worked, yes, but she had no experience at all and to even attempt to give what she assumed this god wanted would be an insult to them – given it was clear they knew all and she knew nothing. Phoebe could not have even given this god what it wanted even if she wanted to because she simply had no idea what to do. Stupid girl. You’re just an insult. You can’t even thank them properly. At any rate, Frey wouldn’t need to punish her more if the god felt lazy – Phoebe was very good at punishing herself. Phoebe In a gentle way, you can shake the world