 |
It was unusual for the Threshold to have real
visitors, save for the occasional calling of one of Desire's siblings.
But, of course, even those were rare. Desire kept to itself a lot, and it
still does much of the time. But at that time, in the twilight realm,
Desire was waiting for two callers. They were neither mortal nor Endless.
Not really anything, as of then. But Desire was going to put an end to
that. It was going to give them a purpose.
Reclining on strangely organic cushions, Desire simply watched the smoke curl up from its cigarette and listened to the muted tones of its beating heart. With each beat, the walls around it pulsed with a dim light, strangely soothing to it occupant. Hypnotizing to anyone else. It took another puff from its cigarette and let the tendrils of musky haze drift from its nose. "They're late," it noted with a sigh. Despite being one of the Endless and accustomed to waiting, Desire was becoming impatient. Standing up from its fleshy pillows, it crushed its spent smoke into nothing under a spiked heel and produced another one from the air. Lighting it with its heart, Desire drew in another lung of nicotine. |
Desire smiled and beckoned them to come closer. "Let me get a better look at you."
The two young gods, little more than ideas or figments of the imagination, made their way slowly to the center of Desire's heart. It was easy to see in the light that they hadn't even aquired solid shapes yet. Wisps of dreamstuff still leaked off of their bodies and coalesced back into their forms of solid mist.
Still grinning, Desire circled them both, its heels clicking methodically on the floor. "Hmm...yes. I think that you'll do nicely." It was a man and a woman. A god and a goddess. They were young, but they would serve.
"Who are you?" asked the taller one, the male. "What are we?"
"I am Desire. And you," Desire replied, "are gods. At least you will be in a short while. Right now, you're still forming." It reached out a pale hand and seemed to curl a wisp of his essence around its finger. Sensing the next question, it continued, "I brought you both here to make a deal, of sorts."
"A...deal?" the female god repeated. "What kind of deal?"
"Let me put it this way: so far, you are nothing. Not really. Perhaps you live only in a child's rhyme somewhere in the Fertile Crescent. Maybe you are less than that. Only an idea in the back of some poet's dream-maddened brain." Desire stood in front of them both now, its head turned as it took in some more cigarette smoke. Letting the cigarette drop, it turned its androgynous face toward them once more, blowing a puff of smoke at them and watching it merge with their vapory forms. "You will be more...eventually."
"That doesn't explain anything," replied the goddess.
Desire lost its grin for a moment. "Don't talk back to me. After all, I am prepared to give you something most gods would kill for."
Not wanting to upset the being before them, the two just waited for it to continue.
"I can give you power over mankind. I can give you control over its most powerful emotion: love." It paused, savoring the reaction on their faces. "I am Desire, after all. I could do it easily. However...you would have to agree to something for me."
The god was interested. "Yes?"
"The realm that you come from...the Dreaming... You must have nothing more to do with it. Or its lord, for that matter." Desire turned away from them and began to saunter back to its luxurious love-seat. The gods had no choice but to follow. "You see, if I am going to give you this gift of love and lust, you must have loyalty to me. No other."
"I don't think he would be pleased," commented the goddess, with a bit more voice than before.
"Oh, so what? I have never had a fondness for my brother. Besides, what's the loss of two little shadow gods like yourselves?" Desire sat, crossing its shapely legs. "I doubt that he'll even notice."
"What if we refuse?" came the goddess again. She was starting to irritate Desire.
"If you refuse, you can go back to Dream's little realm and become little gods of grain or light or little prostitutes. It would not matter to me. But I'm offering you so much more. Love and lust control humans. They obey my whims. No matter what anyone else tells you, thoughts of sex and wanting are always at the back of their minds, moving them about like dolls. I am always with them. They act on what they want, not of what they dream. Gods and goddesses of Desire are the true rulers." Desire's intense, tawny eyes focused on the figures in front of it. "Mortals are weak. And it is I who truly controls them. It is simple: swear total loyalty to me, cut off ties with the Dreaming and my brother, and receive my gifts of desire. And so it will stay until you take your final journey back to where you came from. You might not be welcomed there, but that would be a small price to pay for what I am offering you." A few ashes fell from the tip of its cigarette. "Well, what do you say?"
"Cut off ties from the Dreaming?" The goddess's still-forming facial features contorted. "The Dream King would be displeased..."
Desire grinned once more. "And what are the odds that you'll ever have to deal with him, then?"
The god stepped forward slightly. "I agree to it. It would be an honor." He turned his head to look at the still hesitating goddess. "And you?"
"I have the option to refuse..." she whispered. After a moment of thought, she answered, "I accept, as well."
"Wonderful." Desire stood once more and looked at them critically. "We really must get you proper faces. Hmm...those will come in time."
"What lies ahead of us?" asked the god.
"Many, many things. You will be adopted and worshipped by different cultures. You will be given many different names. You will change and grow, as all things must. But you will always be mine. You are agents of Desire now, and you must never forget that." Simpering quietly, almost slyly, Desire flicked its old cigarette away. "And neither will my brother."
Copyright Diana
Marsh, 2000 (Desire and all Sandman characters are the creations of
Neil Gaiman and Mike Dringenberg and trademarks of DC Comics and Vertigo. This
is a labor of love, and no money is being made off of it. Yadda, yadda, yadda...
Author's Note: Okay, okay, as some of you might have guessed, the goddess in
the story is Ishtar, a.k.a. Belili, a.k.a. Astarte. I wanted this to be a sort
of "explaination" story giving a possible reason why Dream never seemed to like
Ishtar too much. Of course, this is only my take on it.)