... so softly that I could hardly hear him.
He whispered other things, too,
which I heard even less. Aging
is taking vengeance on my hearing.
There were words here and there,
intensity overcoming inability.
I caught words, promises, warnings,
about begging, pleading, the implication
that these would accomplish nothing.
He didn't, you know.
Though I would have yielded, you know.
But he didn't.
Not like that.
Not like his dark fantasies, his
I held him fast all in my arms.
I said the right words and took him inside me.
and held him fast,
my fearsome fearful shape shifter,
and as he came so passed the spell
and he lay in my arms a naked man.
He protects me.
In the epic battle between Love and the Beast,
Love always wins.
One of my favorite versions of the referenced ballad, which is one of many dealing with love conquering the evil spell. "But first I'll change all in your arms..."