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Internet Culture » PPC » His Greater Love
Author: Purple Raine
Fiction Rated: PG-13 - English - Angst/Drama - Reviews: 2 - Published: 18-07-06 - Updated: 18-07-06 - In Progress

His Greater Love

by: Purple Raine

A note from the author: Due to the OUTSTANDING CRUELTY of many of my readers I will no longer accept so-called “constructive criticism.” The DEEPEST AGONIES of my soul are in every word I write, the musicof my heart weaves an intricate tapestry within every phrase, every sentence from my pen echoes and re-echoes with the life that I possess. There are hypocrites who claim to be giving me advice but their only intent is to TEAR DOWN the art that I have created! I'm tired of being endlessly abused for simply DARING TO DREAM!!! How am I supposed to express myself in an environment of hatred and hypocrisy?!

If you have objections to what I write, well guess what these stories are FICTION!! That's why its called FANFICLAND you know! If you want to email me and be a b!tch about my writing then go ahead and bring it on! I can kick your @ss very easily!

Let's get one thing straight: I KNOW THAT YOU THINK ITHALOND IS A FICTIONAL CHARACTER!!! I know what I know! I know that in my soul I am his and he is mine and if you don't like what I'm writing then you can go stick your head up your @ss because that's where it belongs!!

And if you think I'm being a b!tch then that's your business. Stop ABUSING me for living my life as it SHOULD be lived- with IMAGINATION and LOVE and BEAUTY!! I know that YOU are all lost in your PATHETIC LITTLE LIVES but that doesn't mean that you should hate ME for having love. And I do because our love transcends time and space, and your JEALOUS HATRED is hard for me to bear!! So leave me alone and if you dare to leave so-called “concrit” then you'll see what a b!tch I can be!!!



CHAPTER ONE: Night Time Contemplations

Wearied by the night Ithalond rose from his seat and paced forth. His long silver locks caressed his handsome cheek and his gleaming amethist eyes lowered contemplatively as he watched the slumbering form of his wife Mithiriel. Even as he watched she rolled over on her side and, still slumbering raised a hand to fondle her own breast. She was an animal even more so than she had been before, when he had married her on the demands of her parents who were the King and Queen of Rivendell. Though she pressed him for intimacy constantly he, could feel no love for her for she was an animal depraved and deprived.

Animals They were all animals Diocletion was a weasel vicious and intelligent but lacking the true noble spirit of all other forest dwellers which might have made her a whiter shade of pale instead of a dirty shade of gray on the spectrum of moralness. Suicide was the bear his name implied in his darkness and his insanity a, cravening monster of instinct and gut ripping who would rip a mans throat out with his own teeth and gladly feast on the tender flesh within. His own wedded wife (wedded and bedded but never loved, no not in a dog's years of life) was an animal of mindless lust and loveless passion

Tonight he would stay no longer, but leave as he had always wished to do so and find his solace as he did before in the.....

.....the long watches of the night when all the murder weighed upon his heart like the gordian knot upon the back of Atlas.

Slowly he rose and left the response center ready to speak again. Speak to Her again.

She was a druidess and a beauty beyond comparison but unlike his wanton wife she did not demand things of him. Ithalond was wearied of the useless phsyical lust which so many animals endulged in. He knew in hes heart that intimacy only truly had meaning when it was with one you loved, no other act could give true satisfaction. Mithiriels artless grasping betrayed her trule useless nature rooted only in the lusty satisfacton of the kill and the hog. When she was cheating on him with all the other agents was only the final straw in the barrel.

Rising from his place Ithalond strode forth from the response center to speak with his lovely druidess.

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