Thread: A Praise to Bacchus ( Father x Shadow)

Loathing was as familiar to him as it soon would become to his daughter. It was part of his existence and one that he kept far hidden, even in the recesses of his own mind, something that was central to his core. A strong man was not created by merely being born, it was the tragedy and hardships of their lives that established them as a figure worthy of recognizing. Aurelius had not just face the trials of the life of a soldier, he had also faced the tribulations of a soul that was torn in twain. A soul which so desperately wanted to be a good man, one worthy of respect and admiration, and yet which hearkened to the thirst that could only be slaked with wine and flesh. How often had he whispered prayers to Mithras in hopes that his needs would be tempered with wisdom and clarity and how often had he found that clearheaded perspective only after hearing the cries of a young woman as he thrust deep inside of her, his cock used like a weapon to break her? He had long ago decided he was more monster than man. Yet a monster still could love. And he loved her, by the gods he loved her with all of his heart. If he could only express that to her in a way she could truly understand and yet he knew that such a thing might be impossible after the previous night. He would kill for her if she but breathed the words for him to do so, he would ensure she wanted for nothing and never would, and he would sacrifice all he was to make her smile. Yet that monster had needed something in return for all the fealty he would have given, it needed to be paid with the claiming of her. Oh, others had touched her and had her, he was the one who had ensured it. Yet he was the one who had claimed her in that moment. She might not understand it, that kind of possessive love that needed to define it's territory and not just keep the one cared for...but own them. Or...perhaps his daughter was in the spirit the same as he and as such she might very well understand that need. He had not slept that night. No, he had lain awake long into the hours of the evening staring at his ceiling and wanting to join her. What he would have done had he attempted to do so he was not sure. Would he have responded to her entreaties for him to leave with force? Would she have welcomed him and cried against his chest as she had when young? He did not know and he felt a small measure of uncertainty at that lack of knowledge. For once the path before him had branched and he did not know the destinations they would find. Yet he knew he would only walk them hand in hand with her. He knew that with ferocious determination. This would not be the end, he sword such things inside himself...in the darkest parts of his mind he was reassured. She was his. When he finally walked the halls of their home he once more gave leave to the servants. The guards were to remain on post, but all others were not welcome until he gave them his leave. They would need solitude to come to terms with what they had together. He did not wake her as she slept, though he had checked on her often, and he stepped into the courtyard to cross it in order to look in upon her once more. The stone was slick but his feet were steady as he began to cross only to stop and pause, raising his head at the feeling he was being watched. She was gazing into the courtyard and saw him standing there, his eyes locked upon her and he made a simple gesture, one that she knew well. Come , he commanded without words, come and approach me. Last edited Jul 30, 2018