Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: The Cost of Blood (Father and Belle)

Could. His voice said drily, a mildness to it which represented something far worse than disapproval. It was dismissal. It was the voice he used when faced with news he did not like, when a soldier failed his assignment, when a guard fell asleep in the night, when a slave gave nothing but the most lackluster service. Dry, cool, complete dismissiveness which signaled that the answer might already lay inside of him. That in fact he might very well be angry. That might be the tip of this particular mountain, anger that something more suitable had not approached his young daughter. Fury that someone more worthy had not given of their time and effort to provide for the only woman he loved in this world. It rankled him something mightily and he moved through the water. He made no mention of the fact that she had not joined him. Obedience he expected from his men, not from his daughter. She was a Spartan woman, born and bred, and she would have a mind of her own if there was any amongst them who could. She would do as she wished as long as it was not disrespect him. Yet while she had not shown disrespect, had others shown it in not offering a hand in marriage to one of the most elite women that their society had to offer. His eyes moved to take her in as she sat there, lightly moving her feet in the water, admiring her limbs and strength. Admiring the curves of her form, the arch of her throat, the visage clearly that of a woman and not a girl child. So he moved close, his hand coming to touch the revealed thigh and he took it in his grasp. Once more the fingers clamped down, not in cruelty but in surety - like the grip of a warrior's fingers upon the spear he wielded in the phalanx. The hand was coarse, the fingers iron beneath the skin, and he looked upon her as he spoke. This man is unworthy of you, Aelia. Unworthy and unknown. You deserve far better, but I, he paused, not saying feared. That word was near foreign to him at this point. Instead he chose something else. I cast a long shadow, my daughter. Do you think that they fail to approach you because I am your father? His eyes never left hers as his free hand came to touch across her abdomen, the most gentlest of touches other than his kiss upon her cheek. Her Father stood their nude in the waters, the steam rising around him, and his fingers curled over her stomach to cup it. This womb, this place of life. This deserves more than the unknown soldier, the novice. His farms could yield a king's ransom and this is not for purchase. You are a woman of Sparta and you are my daughter. You are not for barter. Only those whose deeds are worthy should have you for their wife and mother of their children. His voice grew insistent towards the end, the eyes narrowing as he emphasized his belief in those words.
Thread: The Cost of Blood (Father and Belle)

His sudden repeating of the word made even the breath stop in her throat. That tone of his was as cold and hard as the iron sword he fought with. Her lips parted a moment as she hesitated, letting him have his moment of...whatever that emotion was. Aelia never feared her father the way some less fortunate Spartan children did. For as fierce and protective and tight his grip sometimes was, Aelia had always understood her father - had studied the ways his face shifted, his voice inflected, the glint in his eyes...she knew when he was truly upset with her and when he was acting out of some deep paternal instinct. And right then she would sense he was...upset. But about what she wasn't entirely sure. But even so, as he approached her in the water she didn't flinch or move away from him. Instead she...almost felt as though there was some sort of draw that brought them together than pushed him apart. He was so close now, she could feel his wet hips pressing against the insides of her thigh...and yet she felt no need to recoil. Standing there in the hot water, she suddenly realized that this tug reminded her of the warm waves being drawn towards the shore. There had always been a...connection between them. A togetherness that came solely from the fact that by the Fates' degree, they were each other's entire world. But this...right now...with his hand pressed firmly on her thigh - his fingers no doubt leaving warm impressions on her smooth, olive skin - the heat that melted from his skin into hers, and the vehemence of his eyes... It was warm. It was so very warm. But was it because of the water? Surely... His hand on her stomach made her lower back instinctively arch forward so that her lower abdomen pressed against his palm. It was as though she was a doll and he pulling her strings to make her move, to make her react. She hadn't even realized she was holding in a rich, deep breath until it slowly escaped from her lips in a heated sigh. For several moment she sat in silence - the moisture from his skin and the heat from the air around them saturating every instinct and every thought. Oh gods! He'd spoken to her, hadn't he? Aelia scrambled to remember what he said. There was a pained look on his face, as though something he said had troubled him and it compelled her to act. Reaching a hand up she pressed her hand against his cheek, her smooth fingers brushing against his warm skin. No, she urged, You must not think you have in any way dampened my chance at a future - or taken away from any bit of my happiness. These years I have spent with you...you know the truest depths of my soul. You are my perfect companion. The soul that resonates with mine. You make me happy. Gods damn anything else.
Thread: The Cost of Blood (Father and Belle)

The vehemence of her response surprised even him and he took a moment to gaze down at his young daughter, his eyes speculative and considering. He was a man trained to read an opponent on the battlefield and to see into their very soul. He was capable of knowing an enemies movements with but the merest shift in their weight, their feet turning, the motions of their chest as they readied themselves. He paused in that moment to watch Aelia and to let his eyes take in everything that he could of her in that brief moment, as if time paused just for him. What did his daughter's stance say in that moment? With her slow exhalation, the arch of her lower back which brought her chest up at an angle, and her eyes widening...dilated. What did it say? It said she was his. It said she was preparing herself, readying herself to cast down an open challenge. Perhaps her words did not quite signal the fullness of what was occurring in that moment, but the overall meaning was not lost upon him. She had just informed him that regardless of what others thought, regardless of what their society required of her, that she would cast it all aside if he but asked her to do so. If he but wished it she would deny this suitor and all others because of his disapproval. It was heretical, it was barbaric, it was absolutely treason against Sparta itself. Yet he loved her for it. He turned his cheek into the motion of her hand, his eyes closing for the first time in the entirety of their conversation. Allowing him to take a measure of solace for she had read him correctly. Pained and hurt. He breathed deeply to inhale the scent of the hot water, the swift rush of air, and catching the taste of her own breath as she leaned close to him. Where other men might have gentled in their touch, intimacy taking over, he instead grew more territorial. His fingers tightened just a bit more, clasping across her taut belly as he spoke. He could feel the heat of her and it had nothing to do with the water. He stood there nude, nearly pressed against her, and he could feel the radiating warmth of woman. It stirred him. Damn them indeed. I agree, my daughter. Yet you have a solemn duty to our people. We spoke of it as you grew, we speak of it now. There will be no heir of my seed. Our families line ends with you. Even if I might wish you to not wed, to not leave, that you would never conceive... He shook his head slowly. That I would never wish.
Thread: The Cost of Blood (Father and Belle)

Most children in Sparta dreaded or even feared the harsh touch of their fathers. Spartan fathers were harsh but they were not cruel. They had to prepare their children, to guard and guide them to survive best in this unyielding and unforgiving world. Even so, some children did not understand that at such a young age. But for Aelia there was never that question in her mind. She knew that when her father held her hand tight, when he pulled her in, when he was harsh it was because he was preparing her yes, but also it was because she learned at a young age that he knew no other way. Her father was not a man of gentle, feather light affection or emotion. He was a Spartan hero, a man of his conviction and strength, the sort of man thousands of soldiers would follow...and when it came to parenting, that conviction and strength translated off of the battle field and into the care with which he showed his daughter. So when his grip tightened on her abdomen so tight that she could practically feel the ridges of his fingers imprinting themselves onto her skin through the thin fabric of the dress she wore, she did not see it as a dampening of intimacy or a sign of anger. No. When her father clasped her tight she knew it was his love language - it was the weak grip that she feared from her father, because that would be a sign he didn't care. Watching his face shift, showing the pain and hurt from the prospect of letting her go, she pressed her hand a little tighter against his cheek, speaking of her love for him in a way he would understand. She leaned forward as he spoke, pressing her forehead against his in a tender but sincere motion. She could feel the heat of his breath tickling her cheek bones and she looked into his eyes as her breathing once more became shallow but quick so that her chest rose and fell. The swells of her breasts just barely touched the muscles of his chest. So what do I do? she asked, her voice a gentle whisper, a plea for an answer, Do I follow the desire of my heart and stay here with you, my beloved, forever? Or do I follow the imperative of our people and become a mother to Spartans? My sons would surely rattle the stars themselves with their power. You can feel it can't you? She whispered as she reached her hand down and pressed it against his over her abdomen, pushing his hand into gripping her even tighter. You can feel the fire in my womb, fueled by the glory in our blood. Your grandsons would chase the gods themselves and your grand daughters be consorts of kings and gods alike...but they would break my heart for making me leave you so alone.
Thread: The Cost of Blood (Father and Belle)

The fire of her womb. She spoke those words and it ignited a fire within him that was unlike any he had felt for his daughter. He looked down at her, feeling her hand against his cheek, and his jaw tightened beneath the skin of her fingers. The hand upon her as she moved closer to him and pressed near, claiming in a way that he had never quite expected to feel. It was the way his fingers splayed out across her skin, curving enough to actually cup her taut flesh that provided a measure of understanding for the Spartan general. He would have gripped a weapon in that fashion, would have held his child high in that way, a territorial claim of possession that spoke in his features as he looked down upon her. He could not deny the affect she was having upon him as he considered her in that moment as a woman, as a potential mother to the children of his families future. His own chest rose in response to the touch of hers, thick muscles tightening and flaring as he took in the scent of her hair. She had spoken the truth of it in her flesh if not in the yielding of the decision to him. It was not something that was done in their society, amongst their people. She had a solemn duty but she was ceding the motion to him as to whether or not the duty would be fulfilled. Yet she offered to cast it aside for him out of love, an even rarer emotion amongst the Spartan people. She was everything her Mother had been and more in that moment, the beauty of her blood and the sheer fire of his mingled together into one being and he felt the clarion call in his mind. The nearness of her causing a haze upon his very vision and he moved his hand subtly downwards, just the tiniest of motions, but one that spoke of something far more dangerous between the two of them. His voice was quiet as if he made some solemn vow of reverence. He spoke as if he were speaking to the gods in the silence of a temple. I feel it, Aelia. I feel it. I would not give you up, nor can I deny the blessings upon you. Should you stay, his eyes narrowed as he met her gaze. Should you stay, would you still wish to fulfill your duty to our people? He had spoken the words and there was no doubt as to their meaning. There could be no doubt. It was as if he had cast down a challenge before her and a mantle that she would need claim should she stay within his home. For it was there in his features, the war between his love for her and his duty to his people. Should she speak against it, should she choose to merely remain with him then he very well might cast her into the arms of another. Yet if she promised to fulfill all of her vows? That was what was being said in that moment as they remained so very close to one another. It was not unheard of, the mingling of familial lines in order to retain the purity of the blood. Yet it was still rare enough that he would not demand it of her. He offered it.
Thread: The Cost of Blood (Father and Belle)

She chose him. He could not deny the impact that had upon him. It was more than the fact that she had agreed to do this with him, to stay with him, to even go so far as to provide fealty in the way only a wife would have provided him. She would give him heirs, she would grant him a family line that would carry their people onwards...the very children of his loins graced with the power of their two parents. No, it was so much more than that. She had told him that she loved him. She had said it with more than the respect that a child granted a father and more than the respect that a woman granted a man. She had said it with reverence, like a prayer, a wish upon the wind itself. Could he find it within himself to answer such a need, for it requested of him more than the familial duty. It requested of him that he lead them wherever their destiny might take them. His body reacted in it's own way, mimicking his emotions in the flesh. He felt her legs spread round his hips, felt her breasts pressing up against him, and he decided that if she was promised to him that he would accept it as if it were divine decree. His hands moved down to bring her into the water, jerking her off the edge of the rocks and up against him fully and there she could finally feel him. Water and steam had prevented her from seeing the burgeoning flesh, the heavy thickness of her Father pressing against her as he brought their bodies flush to one another. Water moved around their bodies as he pulled her further back, obscuring them from prying eyes. Those warrior's hands, so sure and strong balanced her like she was still a child. The weight of her seeming nothing to the Spartan man, his hands gripping her rear with vicious strength. Yes, she had aroused him, it was easy to know that through her soaking wet dress...her Father's phallus as straight and true as any spear. His voice spoke through gritted teeth, lust for his daughter evident in each punctuated word. Then, my daughter, you will send word that you do not welcome these suitors nor any others. It will not go unremarked, but I will not have them coming to my door in order to try to take you from me. Let them call me mad, let them know I will cast down any who dare attempt to do so. Should any of them, any of them challenge for your hand, his features were harsh and unrelenting, the cast of an artisan's statue. Then I will kill them. The threat was one not made with lightness. Her Father never threatened. He had spoken it and it would be as if it had been writ as prophecy. He would kill the man who dared tried to claim her. He had not claimed her though, not as of yet, but there was little doubt that in the next few moments he would do so. His eyes searched hers as if he were studying his enemy, looking for an opening, and if this was the hint of what lovemaking with her Father was to be like...then there was little doubt he would give his young daughter no reprieve. His head lowered to kiss her, capturing her lips, his own slow and deliberate...the first of many kisses to come.
Thread: The Cost of Blood (Father and Belle)

Aelia gasped as his hands moved around her body to jerk her into the water. As she slid down against him she became aware of just how aroused she had made him - feeling his impressive member pushing against her thigh. This sensation of feeling him against her leg and the realization that this was her doing - that she was the one who had given him such a reaction...it was a strangely empowering one. Aelia had never been intimate with a man but she knew the secret tricks it took to please him, and the fact that she had not done any of those - had just been herself - and still got him so hard was a testament to their connection. She knew then that what she had felt, the heat in her abdomen, the fire in her veins, it was the same kind of arousal too. It took being in his arms finally for the fire to reveal its true intent. She was utterly and completely aroused by him. And...she adored it. She loved his hands on her rear, tightly squeezing and massaging her skin, holding her as tightly as though she were the one he held most dear in the world. Aelia could feel her heart pounding in her chest and that same heat from before traveling up and touching her skin til her cheeks were pink. And when spoke his voice was like kindle to that fire. She could feel it burning brighter, hotter, threatening to consume her body and soul. And it left her trembling. The sound of his words instinctualy made her arms around his neck tighten and her legs brush against his, her soft skin rubbing against his tight muscle, won from from years on the battle field. He gave her a command and a promise and with those two things, they built their future as though words alone were brick and mortar. Until now she had not thought of a fire burning in him aside from the obvious erection - but as she gazed into his eyes as they watched her she realized that a similar fire was burning in him, one that could match hers and together they could burn through any who dared threaten the love they felt for one another. Yes, Sir, I shall. And if you are mad then so shall I be, she answered as he studied her eyes. For I will have it known that it is not your will or threats that keep me here, but the sincerest desire of my own heart. At that moment he lowered to kiss her and she did not move away. This was their moment, this they could not - would not take back. This moment changed everything, but rather than take away, this made everything new. And Aelia chose to make it so. She wanted it. She would have it. Leaning up she met his lips before they could fully reach down to hers as a silent tell that even now when actions backed up the words she promised, she still chose him. Her lips were warm and soft against his as she kissed him with a surprising amount of tenderness. Her heart no longer felt that this was her father, for in her heart he was the soul made for hers, her perfect match and companion. And she would have him only as that. A soft moan escaped her throat as she deepened the kiss, pressing her lips a little harder against his.
Thread: The Cost of Blood (Father and Belle)

Fever took over him but he was not foolish enough to imagine his daughter was ready for what this might entail. He was an intelligent man, a general of his people, and he knew deep down that while he might have her at his mercy that attempting to take her would not engender the surrender that he wanted from her flesh. It was far too soon for such things, yet he was no gentle lover. He had rarely shown kindness other than in his willingness to cede to her desires, and that was more the kindness he showed to her now as they shared that kiss. A surrendering of his own requirements in order to ensure her very happiness. It was that emotional connection which ensured that she wanted to remain with him, that willingness to protect her at all costs. It would be the same spirit that ensured the safety of their offspring, of their family, and of their home. He knew the future would be one fraught with danger for them both. His tongue moved against her own to claim her, flicking as he remembered the past and what it had been like with her very own mother. No, this was not akin to that. Her mother had been a gentle form, though not a gentle soul, and his daughter held a strength within her that could never be quenched. This was a shared fire, his fingers gripping upon her young flesh, and he showed mercy in the fact that he did not attempt to impale her in this very instant. Instead he moved deeper to pull her with him, sliding up onto one of the heavy rocks that served as a small bench, his daughter straddling him in the hot waters. That mercy only went so far as the kiss continued and his hands came up to the top of her dress, gripping it tightly and tearing it down her shoulders to bare her to him. It was at this moment he broke the kiss to slowly look down, his eyes full of wonder at what he saw. Surely this was not his daughter. Surely this was Aphrodite incarnate. She was perfection, the way the water slid down her flesh and across the swell of her bosom. She was everything a Spartan woman should be, fertile and in full bloom, and he could no longer deny himself the feeling of want he had for her. His head lunged down like a striking serpent so that his mouth could latch upon one of her tightened nipples, a moan of his own finally elicited from his throat as he captured it within his lips and gave a slow tug. Fingers moved, sliding up to her arms to grip them and force them behind her back so that he could bring her up into an arch against him. The hands tightening as they had earlier in their conversation, possessively claiming her in as his own.