Daughter of the Gods-Dark Illusions
by Lisa Beth Darling
Adult Daniel Jackson Fan Fiction

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Talkin' to myself in public
dodging glances on the train
And I know, I know they've all been talking about me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me
Out of all the hours thinking
Somehow I've lost my mind
Unwell
Matchbox Twenty

June 1
12:15 am
Eros’ Tower

In the candle lit bedroom, the Lady Callestah opened her eyes and reached for her husband only to find the bed empty once more. Eros and his midnight flights, she was growing weary of them. So many nights she woke up alone in a bed that was too big too begin with.

No longer tired, she rose from the bed and walked, naked, onto the portico to gaze at the beach below and Athens beyond. On a crisp clear day, she would watch the cars passing by over there. Callestah imagined the people in them and thought of where they might be going. One day she should like very much to go and visit. However, Eros kept telling her no and that she must stay on the island.

Life here was beautiful. It was calm and serene. To most, it would be ideal. She had a husband who was handsome, strong, protective, and attentive to her. Eros waited on her as if it were the only thing he had to do with his life. Eros granted her every wish, all she had to do was ask. Any woman would consider herself more than lucky to have Eros at her side.

But not me. Why? What is wrong with me?

She didn't know. It would be nice to be able to go to Athens or Cyprus or even one of the outlaying islands and see the people, meet them, talk with them. As much as she hated to admit it, while life really was idyllic here on the island, it was lonely and boring.

Looking out over the darkened sea she told herself, one more time, that it was just the pregnancy which was making things difficult for her at the present. Once the children came she would feel better and they would fill her days with happy activity. She wouldn’t be lonely with her children to care for. Surely it would not be long before they arrived. Although she wished she could remember conceiving them, if for no other purpose than to know when they were due.

They had grown by leaps and bounds since the ceremony and it was taking a heavy toll on the Lady Callestah. It was almost as though they were growing bigger by the hour. Their weight was ever-increasing, if she stood for a long time her back would cry out in agony and she would have to lie down for a while. The flesh of her stomach was stretched to maximum. It was thin very sensitive to the touch of anything whether it be hand or cloth. Callestah’s small firm breasts were engorging with fresh milk and they, too, were extremely tender to the touch. Always she suffered with a nagging, aching, little pain in her abdomen. Since their renewal of vows, the Lady Callestah had taken her bed for more hours out of the day. She had not played upon the beach and collect Poseidon’s treasures since their ceremony.

Tonight she felt a bit stronger, the warm summer breeze enveloped her in a lover’s embrace while she caressed her increasing belly. This would all be over soon and she wouldn’t remember any of the stress and trouble it took to bring them into this world. There would only be joy and happiness. Life would return to being the paradise it has always been, in fact, it would be even better than before. All she had to do was just hold on to that thought for a little while longer. Callestah stroked her ever burgeoning belly with a loving caress and hummed the twins a little tune to which she couldn’t quite remember the words; dat dat da da da da dat da, dat da da da da da da.

Why do I not crave my husband’s touch?

This was something else she tried to blame on her current condition. The twins were never fond of Eros' intrusions into her. When Eros made love with her, they would roll around in her belly, railing at the invasion. It was almost as though they did want to share her with their Father.

Callestah had hoped that renewing their wedding vows would help in some way but it had not. She did not understand. Since the night in the bath, Eros had become as attentive a lover as he was a husband. Still, she was unhappy. Her heart held love for him and much of it. It was not the love that she thought a wife should feel for her husband. A husband’s touch should bring fire to his wife’s body, even if she was pregnant, it should still ignite desire. Although he was a passionate lover, Eros’ touch never roused such feelings in her. Callestah never refused him because of it, never let on to her husband of the things she did not feel.

It was true, she would spend the rest of her days here on this island with her husband and children. Callestah might even be something close to happy. However, she was beginning to fear that she would never be fulfilled, never satisfied; not here, not at Eros’ side.

Too many nights she woke by herself in an empty bed. In the back of her mind, she was beginning to wonder if Eros suspected her lack of desire for him. Wondered if her husband might not have a lover. Perhaps he’d grown tired of her bulging waistline and her constant illnesses. Maybe he’d taken a woman in Athens. Someone who could fulfill his desires better than she could in her current condition.

Eros is faithful, totally devoted and in love! She scolded herself for entertaining the wicked thoughts. Holding the light up against the dark sky with one hand, she stroked her ever-increasing belly with the other. Everything would be right as rain after this. Surely, it would be just as it had been . . .

When?

Before.

Therein lied a major problem, the renewal of their wedding vows did not jog her memory as she had hoped it would. Callestah still could not remember anything before waking up in their bedroom half a moon cycle ago. Perhaps that wasn't altogether true. She did seem to remember being here on this island; it was comfortable and familiar to her for the most part. She remembered walking along these beaches and wandering through the thick woods at the center of the seven-mile long island. They were wonderful happy memories, but she was young. Eros had been there, constantly by her side. Love was shining in his eyes even then. However, she was just a girl in those memories. There was nothing between then and now. Only fragments of pieces of things that never made any sense. Eros continually reminded her that she had been ill and was still recovering. He was certain her memory would return to her. Her mind did remember him, but again, in those memories she was much younger than she was today. She could not even remember their first wedding or falling in love with her husband. Every day she woke up feeling as though the man next to her was a stranger. Surely, her memory would also return once . . .

Perhaps it is already returning.

Over the past few nights the dreams which plagued her became more like visions. Always there was the same man, in her dreams she knew his name but upon waking she could not remember it if her life depended on it. Sometimes the handsome man with the pale blue eyes was angry with her. In those times, he yelled and pushed her. He held her down and shouted at her. More often than not, the handsome blue-eyed man would hold her in his arms. He would caress her, kiss her. Not five nights ago, just before she renewed her marriage vows with her husband, he came to her in her sleep and made love with her. His touch felt the way Eros’ should but did not. It was all surreal . . .

So real . . .

The smell of his skin, the taste of him, she swore he was not a figment of her troubled mind but that he was right there in the bed with her. All she wanted to do was kiss him until the end of time. Feel his hands running over, listen to the soft whisper of his voice. Just when it seemed she could not be any happier or feel any more fulfilled, he became angry again. His whispers of love became those of dark desire and subtle threats.

They're only dreams. Bright and intense, true. Still, dreams, nothing more. It wasn’t real. It didn’t matter.

Standing on the portico atop the tower, in the dark night, she looked away from the distant island of Athens and toward the inlet which ran between this island and the one adjacent. There she noticed a light on the island across from theirs. It was not an electric light, as those she could see at night on Athens. It was fire light. She did not see any flames climbing into the sky. The more she stared and her eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, the more she thought the light must be coming from inside on of the caves there. It was almost as though someone was on a camping trip, but that was not possible. Mortals could not see these islands never mind set up camp on one of them.

Eros had repeatedly told her there was no one but them and the attendants on these islands. Callestah had never seen anyone else.

So who was it?

Returning to the bedroom, Callestah gathered her robe, slipped it over her naked body, and exited the bedroom. With only a small oil lamp to light her way, she began to walk down the winding staircase of the tower. Upon her egress, Callestah made her way through the rosemary and basil growing by the tower door and to the edge of the cliff face. She stood in the black of night solitary light in hand, the open sea crashing against the rocks below and gazing across the inlet and to the light of the fire burning on the opposite island. Was it possible that there was another one of them left here on these islands? Why would Eros wish to keep her away from them?

With the strong wind blowing in the night, Callestah took a hard glance around to be sure one of the attendants wasn’t watching her before she closed her eyes and envisioned herself standing on the shore below. Soon that’s exactly where she was standing, with her toes in the shore water, gazing harder at the lit cave across the way. Traveling on the astral plane was still new to her, or seemed so, but it was a great joy to have regained some of her powers, enough to traverse small distances in the blink of an eye. This information, however, she kept to herself. As far as Eros was aware, she could light and extinguish the candles around them, could bring small to medium sized objects to her hand at a whim and make a bouquet of flowers appear from thin air. These things seemed to please him but since he was always so insistent on going everywhere with her and not letting her out of his sight for more than an hour or so, she kept her newly regained ability to herself.

On the opposite shore appeared the silhouette of a man. He was very tall and very broad, though she could not see his face; she could see his hair flow as the wind blew it back from his shoulders. The man raised a thick hand in the air and then waved it at it her, beckoning her to come to him.

Callestah raised her lamp in return but not did use her mind to follow his command and cross the inlet to where he was. She wished it was daytime and she could see his face. He was too large to be Eros or any of the men in her dreams. His silhouette alone looked as though it could knock down mountains barehanded. The light of the full moon above reflected in the dark water all around her, it glistened and gleamed and caught something on the man’s waist. A bright flash of color met her eye. She concentrated harder on seeing the darkened figure and made out the line of the broadsword hanging from his belt. Specks of moonlight danced from a hilt the size of an ax-handle; it tossed spinning flecks of green and red light into the night. Across the way, the man unsheathed the sword and held it the air for her to see. He began to walk from the beach closer to the shoreline of his island with the sword held before him.

Maybe she should not have come here. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead as Callestah's heart began to race. The man was standing on the water now, steadily strolling his way across the inlet with the sword in his hand. Fearing for herself and her children, Callestah let out a series of screams and in a hurried panic envisioned herself back on top of the cliff face.

Callestah disappeared from the beach, landing on top of the precipice with her toes hanging over the sharp edge. Scrambling to keep her balance now that her center of gravity was no longer where it should be, the oil lamp dropped from her hand, as she pulled herself away from the edge of the cliff. It smashed into a million pieces, spilling its contents onto an old piece of driftwood that promptly caught flame sending a bright fire burning into the night on the beach below her. In the palm of her hand sat a large dagger. The blade was sharp and clean, upon the well-balanced hilt was a serpent's head with ruby eyes.

She knew this blade. She had seen it before. Held it before. Something about it was comforting and horrifying. No mortal hand crafted this blade; it was the weapon of a God. The man on the other shore, was this proof that he was one of them? Yes, maybe it was. If it weren't for the dagger, she might well believe this to be just another delusion of her unwell mind.

All around her things were unraveling and trying to knit themselves back together in a different pattern. One she was not sure she was going to like.

The Lady Callestah gazed down the cliff face and across the way to see that the man was no longer standing in the water; instead he was perched on his own shore. If she could see him just a bit better, she would swear he was smiling a very satisfied grin.

Feeling more frightened than ever, Callestah closed her eyes again and wished herself safe and warm in her own bed. Upon opening them once more she expected to find herself in the large ornate room she shared with her husband, expected to see dozens of candles burning, and smell the sweet scent of rosemary. None of that happened. Her emerald eyes opened and she found herself in a much smaller bedroom, there was no island breeze, no candles, and no open portico. The bedroom was very lovely, very comfortable, and romantic.

The bed was made of a heavy wood and it was not too big but just the right size to make a cozy nest for two. The walls decorated with white wallpaper patterned with delicate vines of blue forget-me-nots in a delicate trailing pattern. Across from the bed sat a large black box with a glass front. It sat on a table with a stack of perfectly even books. It was, in its own strange way, a very familiar room. She found herself not only wondering where she was but also wishing she could stay. Somehow, in her panic and fear, she must have gotten her wires crossed and somehow over shot her goal. Callestah glanced around the room a few moments more and caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror over the bureau. Her skin was sallow and her hair white. Around her neck, on a fine silver chain, hung a small single silver medallion with Ares’ symbol upon it. It gleamed in the light of the setting sun streaming through the window. Afraid of what she saw in the looking glass, she closed her eyes again she wished herself into her husband’s bedroom. This time when she opened them, she was standing atop the tower gazing down at the fire burning in the sand.

“Did you hear that?” Daniel shouted as the boat crashed through the water at break neck speed. “Did you hear it?” He shouted again. “Turn off the engine!”

Colonel O’Neill eased off the throttle. “Hear what?”

“Listen. She’s calling my name.”

“I hear nothing.” Teal’c returned.

“No, I heard her; she was calling ‘Daniel’!” Suddenly he felt an elbow poking him in the ribs.

“Hey, Danny, check it out.” David pointed off the bow of the boat. They stunned all to see a fire burning not on any beach, but in the middle of the calm waters.

“That’s it! That way!”

How far off that fire burned no one could tell, an inch or a mile it all looks the same when you’re sailing the ocean or walking the desert sand.

Jack laid on the throttle and they steered toward the fire burning in the ocean. “Holy! Will ya look at that.” Jack remarked with his eyes turned toward the sky. Eros’ silhouette shone against the night sky as he zipped his way back to the tower but his body disappeared from view as his feet touched the island’s soil.

Eros landed on the precipice near where Callestah had almost tumbled to her death and gazed with distaste at the bright signal fire burning on the beach below. Across the inlet, on the opposite shore Ares raised a hand and waved at him to be sure that he they saw him before he turned back toward the overgrown leading to the entrance of his cave.

Looking up, he could see Callestah standing on the portico and he flew up to her. “What is it? What has happened?” He asked harshly. “Did you go down there?”

His voice and presence did not surprise her. She had heard the beating of his wings long before his arrival. She used the brief moment to hide the shiny dagger in the bodice of her pelops. "No . . . “She stuttered . . . "I woke up and you were gone,” she said slowly as she tried to formulate a solid lie. “I came out here looking for you. There was a shadow or something, just over there,” she pointed past him to the bend in the portico. “I guess it frightened me, gave me a start, I dropped the lamp over the edge and the fire sprung up below.”

“Just a shadow,” Eros commented. “Nothing more?”

Callestah thought about it for a moment and chose her words carefully. “I thought I might have seen someone, over there on that island.” She turned her body and her eyes to look up at her husband. “I thought I saw a fire burning in a cave. It’s gone now. Who could have been there, husband?” She asked with a bat of her wide innocent eyes.

Eros was unsure of what to tell her. Callestah had not asked any questions about their parents or families and he was not sure what she would remember if he prodded her even just a little bit. Eros wrapped his arms around her. "It must have been a trick of your mind. You know there is no one here but us, my love, and there hasn’t been for a very long time. “

Allowing him to hold her close in his arms, Callestah felt something between her breasts; it tingled with cold electricity. “I’m sure you’re right, husband. Would you get me a cup of Nectar? Perhaps it will help.” She suggested with a loving smile, watched as Eros, the loving dutiful husband, walked back through the bedroom, and was off to fetch her drink. Callestah slipped the dagger from her bodice and hid it beneath the mattress.

“Husband,” she said when Eros returned with the chalice, “where do you go? Why do I wake alone so often?” She took it from his hand.

“My love, I’m sorry if I upset you.” He soothed as he turned down the covers on their bed. “I have always been the restless sort, the night flights help to clear my head so I can rest with you.” He took the cup back from her as she slid into the bed beside him and then handed it back to her.

“Do you go to the mainland?” She looked up at him with wide questioning eyes. “Do you’ve a lover there?”

“No!” He cried with what sounded like indignation but was actually delight. Not only was she in love with him but she was jealous. “What would make you say such a thing? You are the lover I want.” He reassured.

“I am . . . ” she paused and sighed . . . ”fat and cumbersome.” Callestah looked down at the bulge in the blankets made by her protruding belly. “Not exactly the way I used to be, I’m afraid. You spend so much taking care of me, so much energy, I would understand if you wanted someone else for a time.” With her head beginning to drift away from her again, she gazed across the room, the glowing candles reflected in the beveled mirror caught her attention. From here she could see herself laying in the bed with her husband and the doorway which lead to the hall. It was open. In the mirror, concealed in the doorway, a man in a long brown robe stood watching her. Callestah let out a startled little cry.

"What is it?" Eros asked.

Callestah leaned into her husband without taking her eyes from the mirror. "Do you see him?" She whispered. "In the mirror."

Eros gazed across the room to where she was staring but saw only them and the candles reflected in the mirror. "No one is there, my love." He assured as he ran his hand over the top of her head, following this shimmering cascade of auburn down her back.

"In the door, see him." Her voice dropped even lower, so low he had to strain to hear her.

"The door is closed."

This news brought her attention away from the reflection and to the door, as Eros said, it was shut tight. There was no open doorway to stand in. When she looked back at the mirror, the man was still there but he was walking away.

“Look at me, my wife." Eros turned her to face him and caught that distant uncertain look in her eye. "You are radiant!” Eros insisted in a soft whisper. “I’ve never seen you look so beautiful, my love. So full of love and life. Silly girl, come and make love with me, my wife. I will prove there is no other lover.”

End Daughter of the Gods: Dark Illusions
Chapter Twenty-One
Continue to
Chapter Twenty-Two

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