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“Who is he?” The Moon queried, eyes scanning the mass of darkness outside her window. Eyes scanning the infinite abyss that stretched the span of eternity, hugging her home, her Sun, her Earth. There was nothing but Him outside her window.
“Do not worry yourself with Him, but instead give your precious eyes the sight of my children," her lover called, touching a trio of fingers to the underside of her chin, guiding her face to the world below. And his touch was red-hot like their coupling upon the vast sky. It was the eclipse that bridged their worlds, linked them like a puzzle, to cope with the loss of their time apart, a loss her heart could no longer bear.
Her eyes sought after the blossoms of spring, petals pink, blue-hued, yellow, orange, and green. All golden, belly-up to face their Father Sun. "They are beautiful," she said, though jealousy took hold upon her heart like an eagle’s sharp talons pressing holes upon its bushy-tailed prey, as she wished for a child they could both share one day.
“They are,” he said proudly, eyes consumed in the beauty they shone. “And The Rainbow is my favorite amongst them,” he pointed out, guiding a finger over the perfect arch of bright tones.
The Moon smiled, pleasing the husband she loved. “Of course she is, my love. How could she not when she is as beautiful as you?" She did not wish envy to infect her heart, steal away the last few moments of her short reunion with that of her love; her Sun. But it seemed impossible to attempt at stitching up the rift forming between them; as every Dusk, every Dawn she’d climb to the highest point of her home, standing on tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the fading Sun.
They were of two different worlds now it seemed; of two different skies. And while The Moon's eyes kept searching for his on the opposite side of the horizon, his eyes were no longer fixed upon hers. Still, she cried when the moment to part arrived, pulling at her heart, body, and soul. It tore The Sun’s light touch from below her chin, and a parting kiss she could not gift to her husband as their red-hot love was split in two. Forcing a blue-hued sky with singing birds, wispy clouds, and a gentle Sun.
The Moon was left to wonder, observing her Sun and his children from afar, observing a dark mass of nothing from her window. But He wasn’t nothing, He was The Night Sky, a large mass that would forever stare back with longing at the silver wedge in the sky.
He became her friend, her confidant and through nightly visits, they found comfort and a sense to belong. They were not star-crossed, they didn't have to wait to see each other every eclipse, she only needed to step outside to find him upon his chariot of dark horses. And his eyes weren't embers of flame and heat, they were kissed by a darkness that fills with sweet as it lulls you into sleep. And his hair was like the wild seas, wave upon wave of windswept curls that sparkled like onyx, glistened like the sea. And his skin was frost to the touch as she swept the soft pads of her fingers over the smooth, pale face, over sharp barbs along his jaw, and velvet-plush lips of a light-rose complexion.
Her lover kissed her sweet, hands cupping the gentle rise of her shoulder blades as she held his face in her hands. A smile graced her lips, brows turned upwards, eyes sealed shut as she tasted the warmth of his love upon her tongue. The Moon couldn’t let him go, not now, not ever; not when the sky filled with the constellations of their making. Their children singing upon their chariots of nightly horses, smiling their beam of light that reached her eyes every time she sneaked a look out her window.
But He worried; she knew He grieved every time his brows pinched in eternity. And again she was there, at his side, rubbing a finger between his stern eyebrows to erase the scowl he held plastered upon his handsome face, "What is it now, my Knight?" She probed with unease.
“What if he sees them?” The Night Sky smoothed his hands over her back, eyes falling to the line of her collarbones before slipping from her grasp. He sat upon the rocking chair, one made from the wood he'd chopped down with an ax; carved, whittled, sanded, assorted, stained, and waxed before joining together and placing on her porch.
He pulled her towards him, sitting her upon his lap as he held her close, “He won’t see them now, my love, not if he’s ignored an entire cosmos of our love.” She smiled, snaking a hand behind his neck to play with the lush curls of wind and tide. “Can you name them all for me?” Came her game as she kissed the worry from his brow, soothed the tension from his bones with soft caresses upon the firm line of his stubbly jaw.
“We have so many.” He kissed her nose, “Should I name them all tonight?”
“Only a few names,” she pleaded, squealing as he relented.
“Pisces, Libra, Aquarius…”
The Moon scowled, “You only ever name the calm ones,” she scolded in light, though held a firm look in her eye which caused her Knight to chuckle in delight.
"The calm ones are easier to love; they're not constantly fighting me for Space," he explained his truth, but his love was not at all pleased.
“You are a bit intrusive,” she informed. “You span for eternity, and you don’t let them be!” Though her lover rolled his eyes, she knew he meant well, looking out for their starchildren was what made her heart swell. “Though,” she began to retract, blue-gold eyes swimming in pools of black, star-freckled eyes. It was their children that shone in his eyes, as he kept a close watch on the band of bright freckles that dotted the skies. "You do give the best hugs." The Moon looked above to catch a glimpse of her children, of their children, she reminded herself as a smile shaped her lips.
She could recall the exact moment she was made aware of the pure-black mass that blanketed her world, her Sun, Her Earth. “Why me?” she had asked uncourteously through her window pane. Space was without borders, without consequence, just a mass of darkness spanning the length of perpetuity. What had she done to deserve her husband's indifferent disposition towards her want to become a mother, a mother to their child, one they could both be proud of? That was when her world was consumed by a calming darkness. A mass of nothingness that was never frightful, never intrusive, never snobbish, arrogant or cruel. But he held warmth within his chest as he smiled and waved at her from his chariot of dark beasts.
He had landed on her barren home of a pale-gold grassland, pale-gold beaches, and a sea of deep blue. She had known him from before, from always as he encased the entire cosmos in pitch darkness. And with a cup of iced butterfly-pea tea and a wedge of zesty lemon that changed the dark blue liquid into a violet scene with its natural sour, and a spoonful of honey for sweetness, they sat on her porch to chomp on blueberry beagles topped with strawberry cream cheese. They would joke, share deep secrets, play tons of board games in which she found she was the queen of cyvasse and empress of Candy Land.
Her eternity was consumed by her Gentle Knight, parting only when The Sun began to peak over the horizon in the times of Dusk, in the times of Dawn. But this time she no longer stared longingly for her Husband's distracted eyes. And on a dreaded eclipse when her world transformed into a red-hot blaze, she kept him busy, talking as if a cassette being stopped, rewound, and pressed to play once again over the beauty and purity of his children. Never paying mind to the dazzling stars that filled her world as they danced and played in eternity.
“Best hugs, huh?” Her Knight quirked an eyebrow, causing her to giggle as any attention drawn to his thick brows freshened the memory of him sulking, worry emphasized by the forever-sad shape of them as she filled with their first child. His worry never vanishing as he feared the repercussions of their love, of their children’s bare feet pressing footprints on a beach of pale gold; the evidence for their persecution. But they held their children close, and when they would cry The Moon would wane to cradle the tiny starchildren of constellation-filled eyes, curls of bleach-blond hair, until they’d settle. Her world would turn round once more when they’d giggle, to gift them the sphere of silver as a cushion for their play. “Don’t laugh at me,” he pleaded.
“I’m not, I’m not,” her words, though false, brought a smile to her lover’s lips. And he pressed her head closer to kiss the temple of his sweetest Moon, smoothing a hand over the swelling of her belly. “But you do give the best hugs,” The Moon said to him, eyes glued on the woven bracelet of pale-gold straw one of the kids had gifted him, her fingers running over the velvet soft stems of plaited grass. "All the other moons might say the same." Her eyes were swift, stealthy as she stole a glance at molten pools of black before settling back on the braid of soft gold around his wrist.
“Again with that, Dany?” but The Moon only shrugged her shoulders, pursing her lips in defiance and passive scorn. “Do you see any child up there that is not ours?”
“I don’t know,” she lied, “there are so many.” So many children that had been birthed from their love, pressing footsteps over the fine sand of pale gold. Swam depths of deep blue, climbed trees to strip them of their sweet fruit, and plaited stems of pale-gold into bracelets for each of their parents. So many bracelets they had made, that every tree that had ever grown was adorned by woven golden crowns upon every new branch that grew. And she recalled every face, every dimple upon their cheek, every freckle across their face, every ringlet of their hair whether it be bleach-blond or dark as Night.
But, why her, when there were so many moons of different colors, height, and shape? Why her, when she had loved her husband so? How could she have betrayed The Sun she had loved? But how could she not, when her Knight held eyes of calming, dark depths and a heart filled with warmth? The Sun wasn’t her husband anymore, or at least she was not his wife as she had chosen another to love, another of a pitch-black cape which held kindness as it’s stitching.
“They are so many, but they are ours. And I will defend our children from your husband—"
“No,” she hushed him. “That cannot be so, The Sun cannot be husband to The Moon when that role has already been filled by another.” They smiled at one another; The Moon taking a stand from her husband’s comfy lap.
“Who then is The Moon’s husband, according to you?” His arms never letting go of his swift, silver Moon. Running both hands over the globe of their child’s safe world.
"He is a Gentle Knight," she told him her truth while running swift fingers over the sea of pitch-black curls.
“Gentle night?” He quarried.
“A thoughtful lover…”
“Aye, I am thoughtful.” The Shadow Knight boasted proudly, kissing the gentle swelling of his Moon’s belly.
Placing both hands to tip his chin towards the light of her eyes she reprimanded the Knight with a tap of her finger to the point of his nose, “Now you’re being cocky, my love.” His eyes filled with a mocking confusion.
“Can I not boast of my abilities?”
“Not while the children can hear you, you beast.”
“I thought I was a gentle night. A Shadow upon a chariot of dark beasts, and what was the last one? Excellent lover to The Moons?" Her eyes clouded in anger, pinching the Knight of the realm over the film of firm flesh of his forearm.
Stepping away from the playful beast that was her husband in hormonal rage, lifting her skirts to allow a larger step as she hurried to her room. “Dany, I was only kidding,” He drew her back with a swift step and a harmless yank upon her arm. “There is no one else.”
The Moon grew serious as she looked upon her husband’s handsome face, “Do you question my loyalty?”
“Dany, don’t be absurd.”
"I'm serious, Jon." Her blue-gold eyes lacking the luster from the earlier joy that had pushed pinkish cheeks over the form of high cheekbones, mouth curling plush lips that thrummed with the pulse of crimson into a gorgeous smile, and thick brows curved upward as if cradling all sense of joy above their structured shape. It was all gone now as her bliss had stifled. A gentle hand holding on to lose, silver-glossed skirts that dragged far behind her feet when she walked. Another, strong, protective hand laying flat over their capsuled Starchild, floating in bliss within her womb. “Do you question my loyalty as The Sun should?”
“The Sun is not your husband, I am. So, should I question your loyalty, my sweetest Moon?” firm, strong hands cupping the heart-shaped face of The Shadow's wife; holding her strong, holding her firm as he forced himself to remain the Knight of Shadows. His face without a doubt, eyes thick with the cloyingly sweet love that was sticky to the touch like golden honey. His fingers caressing the warm, salty jelly that spilled over the brim of thick lids, lashes coated in rain-dew and crystal clear droplets of melancholic syrup. "No. I have no doubts about our love. No doubt that you love me…a little less than I love you,” he jested, earning a sheepish grin and slight smack on the shoulder. The Moon’s hands clasping the fur over the line of his cloak’s shouldering, yanking her best friend closer.
“I do not love you less than you love me!” she scolded, nose stuffed with mucus, making it hard to breathe.
“Of course not. How can any amount of love be measured?”
“It cannot.”
“It cannot,” he agreed.
“Though, I do love you more than you love me," The Moon beamed at the stolen jest, earning a kiss from her love. And it was pressed softly against her lips, rough barbs tickling the plush of her mouth. She held his hand, firm and steady, guiding his foot through the threshold of their love nest.
The Moon and The Night Sky cradled their child in their arms as they tangled between soft pelts on their featherbed. Sharing sweet words as he pressed his nose to the curve of her neck, his bare chest glued to the pale plane of her back. He ran delicate fingers over the stretch of his love's belly as her hand played with the soft coils of his dark hair. And finally, the two fell asleep between warm embraces, honeyed words, and a canopy of laces.