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A fantasy of control.

Any selfish desires for a man of beauty, charm or gentleness burned away with her dance, leaving her filled with only the goddess and the desire for a man of strength, a true Oak King.

As she stepped back, the Lady of the Lake commanded the hunt begin and the men stood, rushing into the trees, some bellowing war cries and others silent, but intent. When the last man had disappeared into the forest, Keira turned and climbed onto the horse provided for her, bareback. She would ride to the cliffs and the sacred cave to begin her vigil, her wait for her Oak King. It would encase them in the earth's womb and allow the temporarily divine couple privacy to pass their night.

Outside the cave several fires were already lit, where priestesses and common folk alike danced, sang and drank to the joy of new life. Later, many would sneak away from the blaze of the fires to make love under the stars in private celebration of the goddess and her consort. The goddess still filled her when she entered the cave and lowered herself to the thick furs so she felt no fear, just exhilaration as if she were running with the men after the great stag.

Kent broke away from the other men, running swiftly on bare feet in any direction his instincts led him. He knew the god was with him, blessing and filling him as he was with any man brave enough to test himself against the King Stag with naught but a knife and his courage. The other men would not take down the stag however, he would claim that honor or the stag would kill him. He wanted the woman who played the Virgin Huntress, burned for her like he had for no other. Her soul blazed brightly, calling to the primal, divine part of him and he would answer the call.

He would claim her, not some other man, she was his. Or at least for this night, she would be. The god urged his speed and he caught sight of the herd, the great King Stag at it's head and his heart rose in anticipation. His pace increased, his breath coming in gasping pants and his side burning like a hot brand had been pressed against him but he would not slow. To ease his speed would mean conceding the goddess-touched beauty and he would not allow another man to have her. He leapt, there was a cry, spilling blood and a great crash.

Keira sat up with a cry, a vision of blood spray and chaos momentarily overcoming her senses. She smiled and stood, the hunt had ended.

Kent rose, the blood of the King Stag splashed across his face, chest, the hide covering his manhood and even his silvery-blonde hair was stained. He whooped a victory cry and the other men picked it up as they joined him in the clearing. A few of the men helped him lift his kill to present to the Crones and the Lady of the Lake. Then he would claim his true prize, the virgin priestess awaiting him in the sacred cave. The other men herded him towards the cliffs, rowdy with energy from the hunt and excitement from his quick kill.

The Lady of the Lake smiled triumphantly when she saw him coated in blood.

"The Oak King is crowned! Rejoice, for the goddess has her consort!" she shouted into the frantic merrymaking, making the crowd even more insane with ecstatic joy. He stopped before the Lady of the Lake and dropped to one knee to accept his crown, made from the antlers of the King Stag taken the previous year. His kill was strung up and the blood drained into a bowl to be used to bless people and crops alike. The stag was skinned quickly and the still bloody pelt was thrown over his shoulders.

"Rise, Oak King.

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