Note: The characters depicted in this story are both consenting adults. Lyra is 25 and Itheia is hundreds of years old, appearing in her late twenties.
Note 2: This piece is not intended to fetishize trans people, so any comments featuring fetishistic or otherwise transphobic language will be removed.
*Content Warning*: Lyra engages in penetrative sex in this story. This won't be the case for all of my stories that feature trans women, but it's an aspect of this one. It was done for trans woman readers who either prefer or don't mind things being this way when they're depicted in erotica. Care was taken to not fetishize Lyra in this act, but if anything has inadvertently come across that way then I'm open to criticism and advice from trans women so that I can do better in future works.
If you would rather read a story of mine involving a trans woman where this aspect doesn't occur, then I invite you to check out Set In Stone [M/F, Male Gargoyle/Female Human].
Fruits of Her Devotion
The Temple of Itheia was awash in its typical serenity that morning. Lyra woke in her chambers to a gentle, blue twilight, her eyes slowly blinking away the remnants of sleep. The air was cool as she sat on the edge of the bed to stretch out her arms and spine. She stood, the floor chilly against her bare feet, and set about heating some water for her bath.
It would warm her, but it also served as a daily ritual that she was required to undergo as a Maiden of Itheia; an attendant to the goddess who oversaw the safety, happiness, and prosperity of all mortal women. The Maidens bathed themselves each morning in water which they would lavish with heliotrope petals. Bearing the favoured scent of Itheia upon their skin was an expression of their devotion and allowed them access into the inner sanctum where the goddess resided.
Lyra ran her hand through the basket of petals she had prepared the night before. She felt a small, wistful smile tug at her lips. Heliotropes; the flower of undying love. Unknown to anyone, Lyra's feelings towards her goddess ran far deeper than what was expected from her as a Maiden. But who was she to desire so much from a deity?
With practised ease, she shook the thoughts from her head and went through her routine. A few buckets and an emptied basket later, she was stepping out of her nightgown and into the tub. Steam curled up around her, sweet with a combined fragrance of almonds and cherries from the petals floating on the water's surface. She relaxed into it, humming and running her hands over her legs and arms.
The sun had fully climbed out from behind the horizon as Lyra finished her soak. Cloudless dawn allowed golden light to stream in through the window. She lifted herself from the bath, dried off and dressed in light blue robes and pale gold cords.
Lyra made her way out of her room and through the hall which held the doors to each of the Maidens' chambers. They were treated well there; private quarters, abundant food, and various areas made solely for recreation rather than the Maidens' spiritual duties (Lyra enjoyed the library most). Despite her divinity, Itheia demanded nothing less for those in her service. Many other gods would hardly even spare a glance at them let alone ensure their comfort and leisure time.
Most of Lyra's fellow Maidens were gathered in the vestry when she arrived. Here they were given their set of daily tasks by the Head Maiden Valeria; a stern but not entirely unpleasant woman in her early fifties. Their duties typically entailed things like cleaning, tending to the sacred gardens, or handling the offerings brought to the temple.
But Lyra sensed that something was different that day. As she entered the room, all eyes were suddenly on her. A small sea of awkward expressions, save for Valeria who was regarding her neutrally. Still, it was unsettling. Lyra approached the Head Maiden.
"Good morning, madam," she said, keeping her tone airy and polite as she tried to dispel the strange atmosphere.
"Good morning, Lyra," Valeria said coolly. Her eyes were difficult to read behind her thick-lens spectacles and her mouth carried its usual light frown. "Eager as ever to go about your duties, I presume?"
"I am," Lyra said. "Where have you assigned me today?"
Valeria adjusted her glasses. "Well, it's not about where I would have you."
"Pardon?"
"Lady Itheia has once again requested your presence today."
Lyra's heart began to pound, easily excitable at a single suggestion of prolonged time with her goddess. It was an honour to be tasked with staying directly by Itheia's side and seeing personally to her daily needs. And it was one Lyra had been enjoying in abundance of late. At least twice a week in the last three months if memory was serving her.
Now that she thought about it, Lyra had never heard of any of her fellow Maidens being requested by Itheia herself. The task was typically given at random. A daring hope rose in her, but she squashed it. She was simply good at the job and Itheia recognized that. Nothing more.
"If that is what she wishes," Lyra said. She started to turn and leave the vestry when she was stopped by Valeria's voice.
"One more thing," she said quickly. There was a shallow basket full of fruit on the desk near her which she picked up and handed to Lyra. "Lady Itheia requested you and these."
As Lyra took the basket, a few of the other Maidens in the room began to titter among themselves.
Valeria cleared her throat, silencing them instantly. "Quiet, now."
Lyra looked down at the fruit, puzzled. They had dark blue skin with lighter flecks around the top, were about the size of oranges, and gave off an aroma not unlike subdued vanilla. She figured they must have come from outside the temple as she had been in the gardens enough times to know that they didn't grow there. But they seemed to be ordinary fruits. There was nothing inherently funny about them as her fellow Maidens seemed to think.
"Do you know what they are?" Valeria asked.
"No, madam," Lyra said. "I've never seen them be--."
Shock stilled her tongue as she saw the faintest hint of a blush on the cheeks of the Head Maiden. For once, Valeria wasn't looking her in the eye.
"The Lady will surely tell you of their significance," she said. With a shooing motion of her hand, Lyra was dismissed. "Off you go. She's waiting."
Lyra gave a small bow of her head and hurried out of the room. The halls were empty and quiet except for the sound of her footsteps against the elegant tile. Her hands tightly gripped the handles of the basket as she walked towards the inner sanctum.
She was barely keeping her composure, her mind buzzing. Nerves made her worry her bottom lip. What meaning could the fruit possibly hold that they had even Valeria nearing a flustered state? They had to be the cause; they were, to her knowledge, the only new element in her assignment. The delectable scent of them swirled about her, mixing nicely with the flowery aroma still clinging to her hair.
Lyra reached the extravagant doors outside of Itheia's chambers. The gold accents on the intricately carved, pale surface glinted in the light. An array of flowers, trees, and birds that seemed ready to burst from their wooden confines at any moment. Lyra stood there, trying to banish her perturbed expression for something more kind. She brought her hand to the door handle and pushed her way in.
"Good morning, Lady Itheia," she said pleasantly. She yelped in surprise as she found Itheia where she didn't expect to; standing nearly right inside the door. The goddess was usually late to rise, so Lyra had expected to be the one to wake her.
Itheia startled a little as well before chuckling lightly. "Terribly sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I sensed you coming is all."
She stood before Lyra in simple but silvery robes; thin, airy and sitting loosely upon her form. Gossamer fabric covered her scaled arms and her clawed fingers were notably bare of any rings. She had forgone jewellery entirely, which was uncharacteristic. Her white, waist-length hair seemed to shimmer with an ethereal light, crowned by tall horns. Eyes with slit pupils regarded Lyra warmly despite their icy colour.
