All For You, I Gave; A Trilogy

From across the square she watches him, laughing and talking among his friends. He is the center of attention, and rightly so. He commands an audience with unspoken power and unwavering charm; an air of fellowship follows him wherever he goes. He is tall, like all Spartan men, and moves with a flowing grace that makes men unlike his kind look like clumsy fools. He is lean, but not unhealthily so, with very well defined muscles; a taut, firm stomach composed of rippling tendons, thick, sturdy shoulders that sculpt a powerful, well-built back that ends just above a well-rounded buttocks, that finally leads to a pair of perfectly toned legs. Atop this perfect body sits an equally, if not more, divine head, trim with laughing, deep brown eyes and thin yet supple lips. His nose is long, though not abnormally so, giving him the look of sheer arrogance with a dash of handsomeness and well upbringing. His teeth are straight and white, his skin a deep, tawny brown from being out in the sun for countless days. His chin and cheeks are lightly dusted with roguishly handsome, course blond hairs that match the hair upon his head. Long, it was, just past his shoulders, and pulled away from his face with a leather thong, giving fine definition to his ultimately godlike looks. Dressed in the particular uniform of the Spartans, with a flowing, crimson cape, a brown leather loincloth, and a sword at his side, he is the epitome of masculine bliss that accompanies the wicked thoughts in Naia's mind.

Like all his Spartan brethren, Adonis is beautiful. From head to toe, the man is a sculpted masterpiece that belongs in the heavens rather than on Earth. But Naia is glad he is here, because Adonis is different. He is different in every way imaginable, from all the other Spartan men. He has a beautiful smile and a wonderful personality, along with the dangerous prowess of a warrior. For years, Naia has watched him from the shadows, wanting, needing, craving Adonis, but she knows 'tis but a dream. But a beautiful dream nonetheless, one that she will embrace for the rest of her life.

Clutching her woven basket tightly, she looks away from the lad, her face mottled from the high blush that had risen on her cheeks. Long, curled brown hair billows in the gentle wind as she dips her head to inspect a bushel of apples in a crate before her, before, again, she looks up with dark eyes to the invader of her thoughts and fantasies. He is laughing again, rough-housing about with two of his Spartan peers.

Oh, how I wish he would look at me. Naia sighs to herself, looking away again to the fruit before her as she goes about her way, her simply made pure white peplos wallowing about her fragile frame. She is a dainty young woman, none like the traditional lean, tall Spartan women, but she is Spartan nonetheless and though she appears shy on the outside, she is a hellion within.

Her leather sandals drag in the dirt at her feet as she moves along through the marketplace, the bright and warming sensation of sun rays tickling her skin, causing her to smile for a different reason other than Adonis. She loves living in Sparta, under the gallant rule of King Leonidas and Queen Gorgo. Sparta is prosperous, with many houses full of happy children, men and women. Surrounded by a high wall that none could breach and protected by one of the most, if not the most, powerful armies in the world, Naia feels safe here in Sparta; safe and at peace. Every house was made of the sturdiest stone, and the fields surrounding were ripe with good crop and healthy livestock. She could ask for no more; no more save an undying love with her Spartan warrior. Not the love she feels for her family; her father a proud Spartan solider and her older brother in his wake, her mother a strong, brilliant Spartan woman, just as beautiful as Naia. Naia would not trade it for the world, this life---

"Catch, sister!"

Turning quickly, startled by the sound of her brother's deep voice, Naia suddenly cries out in horror as a thin sac filled with water hits her specially woven basket and bursts, sending water flying everywhere. It soaks through her white peplos, and she drops her basket, casting the fruit she had been collecting for her mother to the spoils of the dirt beneath her feet.

"Orrin!"

Laughing, Naia's older brother Orrin and a gaggle of his friends, who are all proud Spartan warriors, crowd around Naia, ignoring the look of pure malice on the beautiful girl's face.

"Come now sister, do not look so angry. 'Tis merely a bit of fun we were having."

"Aye, fun that cost me mother's fruit! She's going to be angry with you once I tell her what you've done!" Dropping to her knees, Naia begins to pick up the fruit, scowling up at her brother all the while. "Go on with you, rogue; I have no time for your tricks."

That brings another round of laughter from the boys, and, humiliated, Oh I hope Adonis was not watching! Naia begins to pick up the fruit from the ground, wishing she could merely melt from the heat of the sun, into the dirt.

---

She moves with the slow, graceful glide of a wraith, though she is full of more life than anyone else he knows. She could give life unto other's, he is sure of it. For her smile lights up the room when she enters, it makes his heart beat faster when he sees her, even for just a mere second. Her eyes, radiant and bright, play tricks on his mind and make his throat tight as she scans everything and everyone around her but him. Her body, so small and delicate, holds many secrets; secrets he would give anything to discover. Long, luxurious hair dances in perfect waves down her narrow back, ending just above a plump and deliciously round bottom. Her legs, though small, are narrow and trim, barely visible through her ivory peplos. Her skin is a creamy, sun-kissed color, her lips shaped like Cupid's very bow. Her cheekbones are high, her skin utterly flawless. She takes his very breath away with a single glance, a smile upon her seductive lips that he aches to feel on every inch of his darkened skin. The picture of innocence is his Naia; the woman he can never have.

"Adonis, what are you staring at?" A hand appears in front of his eyes, and he quickly snaps out of his reverie, blinking multiple times before turning his orbs to his most beloved friend Dorian, who is looking at him in question, a thick brow raised, before he turns his eyes to the object of Adonis's most desired attention. His eyes narrow before turning back to Adonis's own, but he says nothing and brings about another topic of conversation among their group of Spartan brethren.

Reluctantly, Adonis tears his eyes away from the meandering beauty and back to his friends, though he hears their conversation not. They speak of war and battle tactics, of when they will next spar with each other, or when they think Sparta will go to war against the ever-powerful Xerxes. But he cares for this conversation not. All he cares for is the one woman that pays no heed to him, who thinks nothing of the mighty Adonis.

But he cannot help but watch her; she is too addicting. He cannot help but watch as she stops to pick at a bushel of apples, as red as her beautiful lips. Adonis feels his throat go dry when she lifts a delicate hand to pluck an apple from the group, and then another, her brown eyes narrowed in thought. How he wishes to feel that hand on his skin, burning through to touch his soul. And those eyes... They play havoc on his mind. They are dangerous to a man who want nothing more than to stare into their depths and get lost in the passion within.

Suddenly, and to his horror, Adonis watches as Naia's eyes widen in sheer terror as something quite large and round hits her basket, sending the item to the ground and her wares sprawling about her feet. Grasping the hilt of his sword with a fierce growl that sends his comrades into silence, Adonis unsheathes his weapon and makes to lunge to Naia's rescue, only to feel throughly stupid when he sees that her aggressor is none other than her arrogant brother.

Over the noise of the marketplace, Adonis does not hear what Naia is saying, but he knows she is angry and, casing his sword and ignoring the prying tones of his peers, Adonis makes his way across the square to his damsel in distress. Taking long, powerful strides, he reaches his beloved and, glowering up at her impudent brother, begins to help Naia pick up the fruit she dropped.

"You should be kinder to women, boy, lest you end up alone." Adonis snarls, gently taking Naia's basket from her tender grasp and placing her dirtied fruit within.

Naia freezes, as a large, calloused hand appears in her line of vision, grasping a fallen fig. A tug on her basket brings her eyes up, meeting the startling physique of Adonis. Adonis? Dear Zeus! Her heart nearly stops in her chest, her breath caught like a fly in a spider's web, in her throat. Her eyes are broad, looking at the Spartan with a blush to match the scarlet of his cloak as her hands shake violently. Adonis!

"What do you know of kindness?" Orrin spits, causing his sister's eyes to widen to the size of dinner plates, more so than they already were.

"More than you do, heathen." Adonis places Naia's fruit in her basket, every last piece, and then stands to his full height of six-foot-three. Naia can only gape, watching as he rises with the grace of a warrior. A beautiful warrior he is, muscles rippling with every movement his wondrous body makes. Naia is frozen in her crouched position, her face the color of a thousand suns, hands still poised as if holding her basket.

She snaps her jaw shut though, when Adonis turns his gaze to her's and extends a powerful, sensual hand, fingers outstretched. "Come, milady, let me help you to your feet."

Just as she was about to reach for Adonis's hand, the slicing of metal against a scabbard causes Naia to let out a small gasp in horror. Her eyes darting towards her brother, Naia watches as he balances the tip of his blade directly below Adoniss chin, his eyes tightened in a menacing scowl.

"Do not touch my sister, Adonis. I do not want her pure body soiled by your sins."

Naia begins to gape once more, her eyes riveted on her brother, her heart now throbbing in her chest. Adonis!

"Brother, please!" Naia pleads, scrambling to her feet, standing between the warriors, her back to Adonis. Her heart still pounding, she is all too aware of his godlike body standing still as a statue behind her own, of his radiant heat escaping him. Her spine prickles and she feels her face flush again, but she lifts her chin bravely to meet her brother's haughty glare, his sword all but lowered from Adonis's chin. "Do not be brash."

"Brash?!" snarls Orrin, taking a step forward; so close that Naia can hear the sing of the blade as it moves closer to it's target, and the heightened breath of the man behind her. "Step aside sister, this is not an ordeal for women."

"You treat her as if she is the dirt below your feet!" Adonis roars, much to the surprise of Naia. Then, even more to her terror, Naia feels herself being pushed aside, and then her beloved basket thrust into her trembling arms. "You will not speak to Naia as such!"

He knows my name! Naia's heart soars as she watches her brother and the man she adores about to engage into battle in the middle of the crowded marketplace; the situation is now capturing the concern of passing residents of Sparta. But Naia is temporarily in her own world, her own blissful heaven. Her eyes feast on the beast that is Adonis, watching as he leaps back and draws his own blade, matching it with Orrin's. He moves swiftly, surely, his eyes narrowing on his victim as his lips curve into a sadistic smile.

"I will whip you like the dog you are."

It happens so fast. The glare of the sun is hard on her eyes, but Naia does not miss a heartbeat. Letting out a cry of sheer horror, Naia stumbles back and drops her basket once more, bringing a hand to her mouth. She watches as her brother and Adonis engross themselves in a battle so fierce, so horribly enchanting, that she can do nothing but stare. Battle cries rent the air, as well as pleas from townsfolk to cease and desist, but they fall on deaf ears. The Spartan warriors are relentless, they hear nothing, see nothing, but the crimson color of blood.

"Spartans!"

The ragged, deafening cry of their leader is the only thing that could halt their battle. And it did. Swords points meet the ground, not yet tinted with the stain of blood, but in a matter of moments who knew what could have happened. Breathing heavily, both young Spartans glare at one another, while a crowd of villagers watch, with bated breath, as their king emerges from the crowd, a look of disapproval on his face.

Naia always thought King Leonidas was a handsome man. Like all other Spartan men, he wore the crimson cape and the brown leather loincloth. A sword at his side, and tall unlike no one else, he is dangerous, cunning, and charming all in one. He is powerfully built, and the most respected Spartan who ever lived. His face is chiseled perfection, hosting a short beard of ebony hair, with eyes to match. His hair is cut close to his head, and he wears a single braid down to his shoulders to signify his status as leader of leaders. With one, powerful hand on the hilt of his sword and his wife trailing not far behind him, Leonidas stops just on the outside of the rim of villagers gathered around Adonis and Orrin.

"What is the meaning of this reckless quarrel?"

Adonis and Orrin, like the trained warriors they are, turn to face their king and bow before him, their swords dangling at their sides. All is quiet in the marketplace, the only sound coming from the uncontrollable livestock waiting to be sold.

"My king," It is Adonis who speaks, with the proud tone of a skilled solider. His brown eyes contract, darting to his rival, before looking to Leonidas once more. "I was but teaching this heathen a lesson in respect. I fear he has no manners when it comes to dealing with women, or men for that matter."

A snarl is ripped from Orrin's lips, and he casts angry eyes at Adonis. "I refuse to be talked down to like a filthy street rat! Fight me you coward!" Once more, Orrin lunges into a battle stance, forgoing his king and pointing his sword at Adonis.

Adonis merely sneers. "You see, Leonidas, he thinks too quickly, and acts too brashly. Not smart for an almighty Spartan warrior."

Naia's breath catches in her throat at Adonis's words. True, her brother tends not to think before he acts, and Adonis is his opposite in every way. But one thing held true. Both were warriors, and dangerously so.

"Nay, Adonis," Leonidas says cryptically, beginning to circle the two boys with an amused smile on his face. "I think it is you who is acting brashly." Adonis's eyes widen briefly, but he says nothing, waiting for his king to speak. "We are Spartans! Give the enemy nothing, but take from them everything! Why do you waste time conversing with your lips, when you should be with your swords?"

An animalistic battle cry rents the air, and Naia can barely contain a scream for her brother as he dives for Adonis. "Orrin!"

For one mere second, Naia's brother falters at the sound of her angelic voice. And the move costs him. Prepared for the attack he knew was coming, Adonis's sharpened weapon slices Orrin's forearm, and the stagger that comes from Orrin afterwards allows Adonis to stab him in the stomach with his opposite fist, bringing the younger Spartan to his knees. Adonis stands above Orrin with his blade below his chin, smirking down at Naia's brother smugly.

"You, Spartan," Leonidas says, his eyes narrowing on Orrin with entertainment dancing in their depths. "Need more training."

Orrin growls, but holds his tongue, before knocking Adonis's blade out of the way and clamoring to his feet, a scowl on his impeccably handsome face, framed by dirtied, deep brown hair. He drops his sword to his side and Adonis steps back; there will be no more fighting today.

"Milady," Naia jumps, her eyes having been riveted to Adonis too deeply to notice that her king stands before her. "Who are you to have made such a fine warrior stumble in his assault?"

Naia hastily curtsies, her head inclined to show respect. "His sister, milord."

"His sister?" There is an air of question to Leonidas's voice, and Naia curtsies once more. "What is your name?"

"Naia, milord."

Leonidas smiles as Naia looks up, causing the young girl to blush and look to the ground. "Take care of your older brother, Naia. He is a free-spirited lad that needs the proper harnessing, if he is to live through battle."

And with that Leonidas turns, his blood-red cloak swirling about his legs as he strides back to his own home, his queen in his wake. Naia watches with wide eyes as the marketplace bustles once more with movement and voices, but Naia does not move, nor can she. She can only watch after Leonidas, too stunned by the encounter. But finally, she summons the will to move, and turns her broad eyes to her Spartan brother and her Spartan dream. Both are sheathing their swords, ignoring the other's gaze. Orrin then snarls and parts ways with Naia without a look back. Adonis, on the other hand, offers Naia a gentle smile and, once more, stoops to pick up her fallen fruit and basket.

"I can get it." Naia says shyly, dropping to her knees to help Adonis pick up the now ruined fruit, whereas her brother is gone from the square, fuming all the while. "Please, don't bother..."

"'Tis not a bother, milady." Adonis says softly, the basket in his clutches, the destroyed fruit inside. "It is as much of my fault as it is your's that you dropped the fruit, and I would be honored if you let me buy you new, fresh fruit."

Startled by such an offer, Naia jerks her face to clash with Adonis's, which is tender and kind, not a trace of arrogance or dominance mauling his pleasant features. Naia blushes, and hastily grabs for her basket, standing awkwardly and quickly; so much so that she nearly topples over once more!

"No, no I couldn't, I can buy new ones, I just need to go back to my mother for more coin." Naia says timidly, tucking the wide, round basket under one arm, and avoiding the piercing gaze of Adonis.

Dear Zeus, but is she beautiful, Adonis thinks, looking down on the innocent little dove that fate so happened to throw into his path this day. She is lovely, standing there under the onslaught of the sun, which causes her cheeks to pinken and her eyes to darken. Eyes that are on the ground, rather than his face. And oh, how Adonis loved her eyes. He could get lost in them, for all eternity.

"Do not be shy, Naia," he tells her gently, reaching out with a soft, yet calloused hand, grasping her small chin and tipping her head back so he can look into her eyes. His breath instantly leaves him, and Adonis feels his body harden with a need so great it causes his insides to twist and turn, his heart to pound against the bones of his rib-cage. His eyes dim with lust and affection, both of which Naia would never know. She is beautiful, standing there, her hair glittering in the sparkling afternoon sun, her peplos dancing in the sparse wind. "I merely wish to right my wrongs. May I?"

Naia swallows roughly, Adonis's hand on her chin causing her mind to spiral into a world she only dreamed of. Dreamed of late at night, when no one else was about to witness the smile on her face that accompanied her sinful thoughts. It was her dream, her fantasy, her Adonis... Her strong, sexy, Spartan warrior. Quickly, her eyes dip from his head to his toe, his hand still on her chin, causing a thrilling chill to run the length of her spine. How could she refuse?

Slowly, and but once, Naia nods her head, which causes her beautiful Adonis to smile, showing perfect row upon perfect row of teeth. It is a smile that steals the breath from her throat and the heart from her soul. She cannot help her own smile as Adonis takes her woven basket and tucks it under his own arm, and begins to walk the marketplace with the lovely Naia. He watches her closely, savoring the image of her smile as she clasps her hands before her, her head slightly bowed as she looks for new fruit to buy for her mother. But Adonis can care less about fruit, or how much coin he has; all he cares about is Naia, and this precious day they are permitted to spend together.

---

Ribbons of pink and violet, a deep gold and a glittering orange dance across the sky as dusk falls upon the ever-glorious Sparta. The moon rises in the distance, and stars begin to dust the sky. Everyone is retiring to their homes for the night, the square emptying of vendors and livestock, the city gates closed and torches being lit from within. Only two remained out, two figures that laughed together, smiled together, and never wanted to leave each other's side.

"Truly, he said that?" Naia asks with a laughing smile, her home just a few paces away from where her and Adonis are walking.

Adonis throws back his head and laughs, nodding as well. "Oh, aye, Naia, he said it, and it earned him a good beating afterwards."

Naia laughs heartily, at a story of her brother and how insolent he was when it came to obeying his Spartan overlords! Orrin never liked to follow the rules, she thinks to herself, glancing up at Adonis, and then away again, smiling prettily.

Never in her life had Naia enjoyed herself more. She spent the entire day roaming the village with Adonis, merely talking and taking pleasure in his company, as if there was not a care in the world. As if no other people existed, except Naia and Adonis. They got lost within one another, finding all they could about each's personality. It was a task both could have endured for days, for each new thing they learned about each other, they wanted more.

Naia loved hearing stories about Spartan warrior life; living in the barracks, training day in and day out, and being in the Spartan army. Adonis fought in so many heroic battles in his short life, and he loved every single one of them, could remember every single detail about them. His stories were so detailed, so vivid and lifelike, that Naia completely forgot about everything; the fruit, her angry brother, and how furious her parents would be the moment she returned home. No, all she heard was Adoniss voice, like a rumble of thunder, yet smooth and soothing, like the River Styx. All she saw was his smile, gleaming in the sunlight, his beautiful eyes sparkling with mystery hiding in their depths. She felt the warmth from his powerful body, and protection, just by walking next to him. She could become intoxicated in his scent of man and jasmine, and she found herself spiraling deeper and deeper in love with the mighty Spartan warrior.

Adonis was infatuated with Naia. Her laugh was melodious, her voice soft and gentle. Her skin was perfection; flawless, and the color of sun-kissed cream. Her hair was long, and once or twice when his hand brushed up against it, he felt pure silken curls beneath his fingers. He loved watching her walk, watching her bend over a vendor to pick out a certain fruit. She had the perfect body, rounded in just the right places, and gods how he wanted to taste her. For but a moment, he wanted to sample heaven. His heaven. Naia.

"Well, this is my home." Naia says, stopping before a plain, sturdy wooden door. From inside she could hear the ominous talking of her father, and was prepared for the punishment he would give her. She would endure a thousand punishments for just one day with Adonis. "Thank you, for your kindness."

Adonis smiles, ignoring the banter between husband, wife, and child inside. He didn't want to give up his moment with Naia, not yet. "'Twas my pleasure, my lady. I enjoyed---"

Naia is almost splintered in two by the door that comes crashing open, if it wasn't for Adonis who swiftly snatches her out of the way. There stood her father, Thanos, one of the most feared and respected of the older Spartan males. He is a tall man, almost as tall as Adonis, with sleek, long brown hair, tied back with a leather thong. His brows are forever knotted, and he has a long, crooked nose, broken many times by combat. His chin and the area surrounding his lips are thick with a dark beard, though it is cut close to his skin. His eyes are harsh, and, upon landing on Naia, they burst with outrage.

"Insolent daughter!" He reaches for Naia, but Adonis steps between the two, much to both of their surprises.

"What is the meaning of this!" Thanos roars, drawing his wife to come hurtling outside from within, her face pale and stricken with terror.

"Naia!"

She embraces her daughter, burying her face into her shoulder and holding onto her tightly. Naia looks much like her mother, the only difference being that Calista is the older of the two women.

"Forgive me, Thanos, 'tis my fault your daughter was abroad all day."

Naia jerks away from her mother, her mouth slacken in horror. Why would Adonis say that! She was more than willing to take the punishment for disappearing for more than half the day, alone.

"I saw her in the marketplace this morning having a little trouble with her basket full of fruit," Adonis's eyes dart to Orrin's, who is standing behind his father looking sullen. "And thought I should help her with her errands. It was my own err in judgement that kept us out all day, do not punish Naia."

Thanos eyes Adonis angrily, before looking to his most beloved, and only daughter. His gaze softens, and Naia offers her father a warm smile, silently assuring her father that she is perfectly fine and equally unharmed.

"I thank you, Adonis, for returning her to me safely." Thanos says gruffly, as his wife slips back into her home, her eyes misting with tears of joy for her daughter's secure return. Thanos, looking down at Naia, and then to Adonis, says sternly, "We're waiting to dine daughter, do not linger while retrieving your wares for the day."

Stunned, Naia watches as her father closes the door once more, leaving her and Adonis alone. Unheard of! Scandalous! She thinks to herself, fighting to hide the happy smile that wants to cast over her face. It could cause horrible gossip for a man and a woman who were not married to be alone, unsupervised, and for her father to trust her so, she loved him even more.

Silently, and fighting a smile of his own, Adonis places Naia's basket into her awaiting arms and steps back, leaving the girl on her stone stoop alone, looking up at the proud, brave warrior before her.

"It was an honor, and a privilege, spending the day with you, Naia." Adonis exclaims, bending low in a regal bow, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

And then, to her vast astonishment, Adonis quickly steps forward and places his lips upon Naia's. Not in a demanding manner, nor a crude, but just soft enough to entice, and tantalizing enough that it makes Naia crave for more than just a kiss. Oh, his lips are so soft, just as she dreamt, so warm and full. Her first kiss this was, with the man that had forever haunted her dreams.

Adonis could not stop himself, even if he wanted to. He burned for Naia all day, and needed a taste. Just a simple taste. And oh, she tasted like sunlight and the sweetest honey, her lips so plump and innocent. Parted just enough in surprise that Adonis could quickly sweep his tongue across them and then pull back, leaving them both breathless, and both aching for more.

"Dream sweet, milady." Adonis whispers, a soothing, tender hand reaching up to touch the soft flesh of Naia's cheek. Closing her eyes, she savors the warmth of her love's touch, before revealing her brown orbs once more to watch him leave, with a swirl of his magnificent crimson cloak and a swagger to make any woman melt to naught but a puddle on the ground. Leaning back against her home door, she cannot help but smile, her lips burning from the sensation of being tenderly plundered by Adonis's. She cannot stop the tremble from enveloping her body, nor the flight of whimsical butterflies in her stomach. She refuses to look away until Adonis is completely out of sight, and not even then does she look away, too overcome by the wonderful bliss of the day.

---

He knew it when he left her side, that once would never be enough. His body ached for Naia, for her mere touch, for her pleasant voice. For her voluptuous body pressed against his, for her lips on more than just his lips. Oh, aye, he lusted for her, but it ran deeper than treacherous lust. Naia touches his very soul, he knew from the moment he saw her so many years ago. His heart trembles at the thought of her, his throat dries when he thinks of her. But for the life of him, he cannot stop smiling as he pictures her beautiful face in his mind, and nor did he want to. He wants to live for that smile, and he dares to hope that there can be something more for him and his beloved Naia.