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The Prayer of an Unbeliever

Summary:

Sometimes it's the prayers from those who struggle to believe that the Gods value most.

AUTHOR: MMM “Sprite!� Nebulous1, presented by Brimstone Harpy.

DISCLAIMER: The BSG universe and characters are the property of their creators and/or publishers; this story may not be sold or distributed for profit; no copyright infringement is intended.

Work Text:

Date: 12-19-05

Warning: This is not beta'd because who has time right now, and it's just a little drabble that seized me, back to cookie-making, bye now! Hope you like it okay, it's an odd one for me.

 

The Prayer of an Unbeliever

He comes quietly, when most are asleep; keeping his prayer a secret, just like she always does. He has no idols to hold, just a page upon which he has written an awkward but heartfelt prayer, as reverently as he knows how. There is a ship's chapel, but he doesn't feel like he belongs in a formal place of worship, so he goes to the other place on Galactica that feels most like a church - the passageway where so many pictures line the walls, flickering in the light of scattered candles. Here he can pray, along with all the other desperate, loving crewmembers who have nothing else left but the hope that the Gods will have been merciful to the souls in this shrine of thousands of pictures. That is a faith he can understand, the kind that only shows when everything else - the pompous ceremonies, the very temples themselves and the planets they were on, everything has been destroyed but simple faith. He finds he can borrow a little hope from the others who pray here, that the human race is favored by the Gods and will not be allowed to flicker out like these candles all eventually do...because someone always lights another.

He feels it would be strange to kneel, but to stand isn't respectful is it? He's not certain, so he compromises by sitting, laying the other two items he has brought with him aside on the floor. He opens the paper and begins to read it aloud softly. "Gods of Kobol, hear my prayer, have mercy on your arrogant son. I know I've not been a religious man, but I think I'm starting to understand why she calls on you. She has faith in so little, tries so hard to depend on no one; if she turns to you in her time of need, even when she won't confide in me, there must be a reason for her trust. She is not one to believe in anyone easily, I should know after having failed her many times now - but after everything that has happened she still believes in you. I guess all my life I was waiting for evidence, some sort of concrete proof, but I realize now that I -do- have a reason to believe, a reason to live. I can have faith in you, just because SHE does. I trust her judgment above all others, for surely the battle her very life has been must have tested her beliefs, yet still she will invoke your names. If only she believed in ME so much.

Ares, God of War - protector of land and home and family, god of willing sacrifice, the harvest and all that dies to be reborn another way...guard the safety of my woman. Ensure that none shall harm her, none shall take her from me - for in my very blood I know that she is mine and I am hers. I would lay down my life in her defense, I have sacrificed my blood for her sake. Watch after the daughter of Artemis and Aphrodite, my brave competitor, my equal, my completion. For as surely as she is a woman, she is also a warrior born and I know she brings you pride.

In battle she is vicious and graceful, delivering honor to her prey because she has swooped to take them. I would surrender to her happily, if that would please her, but she is too much YOUR daughter to accept that from me. What I desire must be won through a hard-fought war that brings me to my knees at times, but I never fail to arise and rejoin the pursuit, for I MUST have her. She is an Amazon, a Fury, a living force of Nature - She is the very essence of Contradiction; Love and War at one time. I accept her challenge and I know I must fight to earn the prize of her love. I will never quit, never truly rest until it is so. I honor you and ask your aid in the battle for her love.

Apollo, God of light and music and medicine, please look to your mortal son and she whom I love...I know I am not worthy to bear your name as my call-sign; it was chosen for me by tradition, given to me by others without my consent. I would never presume so much, but in respect, I can only do my best to bring honor to it when I can...Cast your light into this world of darkness and warm the heart of the woman who obsesses me. Like Daphne, she eludes me when all I desire is to love her. When I reach out, she slips away and I fear someday she will be lost to me forever. You know what it is to want beyond reason, to love without hope of return. Take pity on a man who stumbles over his words, incoherent with the depth of the meaning behind them.

You are the God of language; please give me the words to reach her heart. She is my opposite, yet my twin, like Artemis is yours - the mystery of the moon opposite the fire of bright day. Sometimes I fear that no matter how many times I may pursue her across the sky, day and night shall never meet, she escapes me every time...I ask this not only for myself, but for her. She does not belong only to Artemis...Aphrodite herself had a hand in her creation, she prays to them both. She is a warrior, but she is also a woman - please help me show her that she can be both of them. She has conquered my heart and if she would but see me, always standing near - it would be my dearest wish to lay my soul at her feet.

I know it's unusual to call on you together, the Bright One and Grim War; but I ask these things of you both, Apollo and Ares. One way or another, through words or war, she must belong to me. I need her to breathe, to live. By my honor as a Warrior and my word as a gentleman, I swear upon the sacrifice of my blood," he picked up the surprisingly sharp letter opener by his side and pricked his ring finger, leaving a print on the page to seal the oath, for he knows that Ares demands blood as his rightful sacrifice. Rolling the page into a thin tube, he then twisted it tightly, reaching forward to light the page on one of the candles and held it carefully until it burned almost completely to ash, leaving the last bit to burn away in the brass cup which made the base of one of the candle holders.

He continued, pulling his tank aside "I write her initial with my blood upon my chest above my beating heart to honor you, Apollo. I will belong only to her if my prayers are heeded. If you give me but a chance, some sign of when to act and how; I swear I will not fail to brave her wrath for a chance to have her love. When she is ready, I shall be waiting here, always watching over her. Eventually, she will turn around and see my love for the first time and realize that it has always been so. Show me how to touch her heart, how to reach her through her fierce armor and I swear, as a lover and a husband, I will do honor to your name.

Consider my prayer with mercy also, strong Artemis and beautiful Aphrodite; for her sake, because she prays to you both faithfully and trusts in your protection - I know you will consider her greatest good.

Ares and Apollo guide your son, who wants so much to believe in something greater than this difficult existence. This is the prayer of an unbeliever, I know; so it may perhaps offend you, but I pray you will see it as I intended, a prayer that is more sincere for having been the only one I have made in many years. We all pray to the Lords of Kobol for the souls of the dead or the imperiled; but I ask this of you specifically, a different measure of faith than I have usually shown. I would risk anything for her and you must know I mean every word; I am not one to make promises lightly.

She is the mortal Goddess of my heart, the centre of my world, my light. She is your orphaned child, your living proof that the Gods exist and they hear us. She has convinced me without intending, because otherwise she couldn't possibly have lived through so much that she has had to endure. Some would say the Gods torment her thus, but even I know better; she is under your protection, you guard her well. Perhaps in that light, you can see how much I love her; that no one would try harder than I to give her happiness. Protect her in this as well, let her find happiness in love, after she has lost so much.

Her name is Kara, her call-sign is Starbuck...but -I- would call her, Beloved.

Gods of Kobol, please grant that one day she will let me.

Standing, he lit the candle he had brought from another, and placed it in an empty holder. Most of the candles in this shrine were for those who had lost hope; his was in thanks for having found his. As silently as he had come, he headed back for his rack, uncertain -why- he'd awakened with the need to do this in the middle of the "night," but it had felt strangely right and he'd gone with the feeling for a change...Normally, a man of few words, and never poetic ones; he'd been amazed at how easily they had come when thinking of her. Now he felt oddly soothed, peaceful; he found he was glad that he'd done this. Lee smiled at himself, who would have thought that of all people, Starbuck would teach him faith? But she had; so if he prayed hard enough, tried hard enough, believed enough - maybe he could give her faith back in return, but in love. Until then, he would watch over her and wait...