Batter My Heart

Dear SorceressCirce,

Happy, happy birthday, and many happy returns!  When I saw that you too love John Donne, I squeed a little.  I don’t meet many other people who even know Donne, never mind like him, so I hope you enjoy this little take on this poem.  Have a wonderful, glorious day filled with chocolate and pretty, slashy boys.

Love,

FDM

Holy Sonnet XIV

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
- John Donne

Batter My Heart

Batter my heart, three-person'd God; for you
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;

Seth tries to still the wild beating of his heart, but cannot.  Tucking a loose piece of his long, black hair behind his ear, he tries to pay attention to the words, to the speeches being given in his honor, her honor, but all he can do is stare at him.

With a wicked smile and a wink, Edward knocks Seth’s heart loose in his chest, stealing breath and soothing, mending the hurt and despair this day brings.  Edward rakes his eyes over Seth, staking his claim.

That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

Walking away from the bathroom, Seth stares at his hands that are dry and red from all the washing.  He feels old, despite his scant eighteen years.  He feels dirty, and used by those who should love him best.

Strong arms grab him from behind and pull him into a broom closet.  The irony is not lost on him.  Soft lips press against his neck, and warm breath ghosts across his skin.

“You’re mine,” Edward whispers.

And with his lips and tongue and mouth he breaks Seth apart, and reforges him.  It burns across Seth’s skin and deep in his gut, until the sensual slide and suck incinerates him, and like the Phoenix, he is reborn and new again.

I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.

Still Seth won’t stay.  He wants to, oh how he wants to stay, but duty . . . duty.  His life has been usurped, planned, and he owes others.  He’s tried to tell them, labored under their restrictions and strictures, but he can’t.  He owes them all, and it is their due.

He opens the door and walks back out into the hallway, back toward the inevitable.  Back toward her.

“Don’t,” Edward demands.

“What do you want from me?” Seth begs.

“Everything.”

“To what end?” Seth asks, and walks away.

Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.

“For love,” Edward continues, following him.  “For me.”

Sam opens the door at the end of the hall.

“You coming?” he asks.

Seth nods.  “I’ll be right there.”

Sam looks at Seth, then at Edward.  His mouth is tight, but he says nothing and retreats.

Seth’s shoulders shake, and he knows, he knows he should speak up, that he is being condemned to a half life, to a life that, at best, is bearable, but at worst, utter misery.  Yet duty, duty traps reason, strangles it and shuts it up.

He walks through the door.

Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;

Looking across the room at Kim, Seth sighs before straightening his shoulders.  He can feel Edward follow him into the room.  Like a compass needle to a magnet, he senses Edward, always in his ambit.

Kim looks up, past Seth and her eyes light on Edward, and sadness suffuses them.  She knows, Seth realizes.

She knows.

Yet, she too is bound by destiny and duty, their bloodlines bound by history, their families by marriages for millennia.

Circumstances make Edward her competition, her enemy.

Seth closes his eyes.  I’m sorry, Edward.  I love you, with every broken piece of my heart, I love you.

He steps closer to his betrothed and stands beside her.

Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,

Knees trembling, Seth tries to utter the words he must say to accept this inevitability, but they won’t come.

He doesn’t want this.

She doesn’t want this.

Yet they do.

He isn’t strong enough, but Edward is.  Seth turns to him, eyes pleading.  Save me.  Save me from them, from myself.

Take me away from here.

The tribal elder begins to speak, but Edward interrupts.

“No.”

A shocked gasp ripples through the room, and Kim sags in relief.

Angry voices erupt, and there is plenty of shouting and waving of arms.

Edward steps forward, until Seth can almost feel the heat of him.  He takes Seth’s hand and utters the one word that unravels it all.

“Mine.”

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

Enthralled as he is by Edward, Seth misses the happy smile that erupts on Jared’s face, or the look he flashes at Kim.

Seth’s father looms over them, angry and shouting.

Seth looks up.  “Goodbye, Dad.  I love you, but . . . this?  I . . . I can’t.”  And he walks out of the room with Edward.

Soon they’re alone, and Edward is all over him.  His hands and mouth are remapping the world all over Seth’s body.

“I love you,” Edward whispers between kisses, between Seth’s thighs.  “I love you.”

When Edward presses into him, slow and hot, then deep and relentless, his words wash over Seth like a prayer.  “Never again,” and “mine” and “love” and “forever,” intermingle with “perfect,” and incoherent ramblings that sound like “fuck,” and “hot,” and “Christ.”

Strong hands hold Seth, and a hard body moves over him, and as his lover ravishes him body and soul, Seth starts flying, free for the first time in his life.

As he comes back down, he feels Edward shaking and coming apart above him, around him, in him, and Seth wraps his arms about him, holding him, holding them together as they surrender to each other.

Edward’s lips brush over his, as Seth breathes thank yous into his mouth, and they lay there, their bodies touching at every point and curve, fingers entwined, until neither knows where one of them begins and the other ends.

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