10-07-2011, 12:57 PM
((Sorry it took me so long to get back to you two.))
Deuce didn't move, didn't flinch as Fia shot to her feet, snarling. As Fia apologized, Deuce shook her head slowly. She had opened her mouth to speak when a male appeared. Deuce closed her mouth and let him speak, then spoke softly. "I'm afraid I startled Fia, Leon. I am Deuce Rhiannon, her grandmother." Her lips curved into a rueful smile. "As for interrupting, I'm the one who intruded on her solitude." She paused, then eased her body to the ground, sitting cross legged. "Perhaps, Leon, you would care to join us?" Her time as a leader had left an impression, as her gentle question came out as almost a command, but with room for him to decline if he wished. She glanced at Fia, her smile fading as she patted the ground next to her. Now it was a gentle command not to be ignored.
She kept her gaze on her granddaughter, speaking softly. "I can understand being paranoid, dear, but refusing help from family is unwise. I want to help you. A woman as young as you should not be marred by physical reminders of the pain she endured." She paused, then spoke softer, almost to herself. "The nightmares are enough of a reminder." She had been there, herself, though not as young as Fia. At 3 she had been violently raped by her own mate, it ending up in his bloody death at her hands. She then had given birth to his pups from that fateful night. Almost a year after that, she had found her son torn to pieces, his body desecrated in ways that made her stomach turn. Life had it's good times and it's bad times, but few escaped it without nightmares. She herself had been held a prisoner, albeit of a male who had claimed at one time to love her.
She hesitated for a moment, then held out her wrists, where rope had cut into her skin and left its burn like scarring over the thin bands of black that used to be scars. "You don't want to explain these to your own grandchildren someday, Fia." Her eyes spoke volumes, the scarring was less than a year old. Lucifer had held her prisoner, had kept her drugged and submissive. "Trust me, child. I never harmed you father, and I wouldn't harm you either."
Deuce didn't move, didn't flinch as Fia shot to her feet, snarling. As Fia apologized, Deuce shook her head slowly. She had opened her mouth to speak when a male appeared. Deuce closed her mouth and let him speak, then spoke softly. "I'm afraid I startled Fia, Leon. I am Deuce Rhiannon, her grandmother." Her lips curved into a rueful smile. "As for interrupting, I'm the one who intruded on her solitude." She paused, then eased her body to the ground, sitting cross legged. "Perhaps, Leon, you would care to join us?" Her time as a leader had left an impression, as her gentle question came out as almost a command, but with room for him to decline if he wished. She glanced at Fia, her smile fading as she patted the ground next to her. Now it was a gentle command not to be ignored.
She kept her gaze on her granddaughter, speaking softly. "I can understand being paranoid, dear, but refusing help from family is unwise. I want to help you. A woman as young as you should not be marred by physical reminders of the pain she endured." She paused, then spoke softer, almost to herself. "The nightmares are enough of a reminder." She had been there, herself, though not as young as Fia. At 3 she had been violently raped by her own mate, it ending up in his bloody death at her hands. She then had given birth to his pups from that fateful night. Almost a year after that, she had found her son torn to pieces, his body desecrated in ways that made her stomach turn. Life had it's good times and it's bad times, but few escaped it without nightmares. She herself had been held a prisoner, albeit of a male who had claimed at one time to love her.
She hesitated for a moment, then held out her wrists, where rope had cut into her skin and left its burn like scarring over the thin bands of black that used to be scars. "You don't want to explain these to your own grandchildren someday, Fia." Her eyes spoke volumes, the scarring was less than a year old. Lucifer had held her prisoner, had kept her drugged and submissive. "Trust me, child. I never harmed you father, and I wouldn't harm you either."