ever know each other [ooc]
--
[bic] such a softer sin
A sort of relief washed over the girl, her breath audibly releasing. She was welcome; this wouldn't be a war against the flesh and blood that had created her own. She wasn't concerned, truly, with the rest of the pack. Jasper had welcomed her, and that was well and fine, but if her father had not wanted her here, she'd not have stayed. And even so, he had not made it clear that
he wanted her here, only that it was her rightful place. And it was, in all reality. This was her mother's home. The home of her grandmother, whom she was nearly positive would not be here to greet her. Ceres had been so good to her. There was no doubt to Anya that her grandmother had been, what her mother could have been... if not for a blonde male with eyes matching her own... crimson. The colour of blood. A colour associated with death and war and abomination; a colour thought to show destruction, like fire, like Hell. That was what it had always meant to her. She was the spawn of a demon, the product of the curse placed upon her mother.
The thoughts were better developed now; she no longer thought of it as she had upon first coming here as a pup. Then, she had only known it as that her father had harmed her mother, that Aiji had not been prepared for motherhood, and that Ahren had forced it upon her. In her young mind, this had played out as Ahren holding her puppy form and laying it before Aiji, and when Aiji refused, attacking her until she agreed to take the girl. Now, she understood the truth of what happened. She knew that rape was not a matter of Ahren forcing the burden of a child upon Aiji, but that Anya was the unexpected result... Ahren had just wanted the sex. What happened hadn't mattered to him then. Anya hadn't mattered, before her conception, nor afterwards, or after her birth. But now, nearly three years after the act... did it matter now?
'No,' he had told her.
'This is your home. You have more right to be here then I do.' She had the right to be here. That much was true, and she knew it. But did she have his welcome? What was she to him? It was a question she had long asked herself, and yet, the answer was never apparent with Ahren. Opening up to him, she felt, would be equivalent to spilling her heart to a brick wall. Pointless. Never an answer, never a sign. Always silence, and never sympathy. Not even aknowledgement. She remembered feeling, with her grandmother, that the female would need to choose between what to give. It was either love or sympathy, and never both. Ceres had given her sympathy, or at least outwardly. Her grandmother had cared for her. But 'cares for' isn't 'cares about.' She knew that.
'What'll it be, Ahren,' she thought to herself.
'You were hiding less when you were behind the tree. At least then, I thought you cared.' The mere thought stung. She didn't even know this male, but she was so easily controlled by him. The pang of realisation resounded within her. Pain, sadness, grief, anger, loss, frustration, agony, confusion. Where did she stand with her father? Was she his daughter... or just another mistake?
Her words were careful, but she couldn't keep the emotion out of her voice.
"You're right. I have every right to live on these lands. By blood, it is my home." The strain on her was growing, but she had to stay grounded.
"But I am not a Sadira. I cannot claim that name, any more than I can claim yours. I am your flesh, your blood, as much as I am that of my mother." Her stomach turned. He didn't need to know about her loss yet, because she wouldn't make his decision. If he felt anything for her, she didn't want the pity. It would have been worse than his hatred, for him to show her caring out of pity. So she kept it to herself and continued.
The next part was the hardest. She didn't want to anger him, nor cause him pain, but she knew that if she didn't risk both, there would be nothing worth saying between them
"Genetics don't make family, Ahren. You know that as well as I. As it stands, I have no more been your daughter, than you have been my father." Her eyes met his, and for a split second, she thought she felt something. Just a moment. Whether it was from him, or just within herself, she wasn't sure. Her voice shook a little.
"But everything is fluid. The rules are not stone." She knew she sounded cliche, but she didn't have the words on her own, and she turned to her knowledge and the stories she knew, to give her guidance. But there was nothing more there, no more guidance. She was on her own.
She made herself clear. It was the only way to know for sure.
"I made my choice; I stand before you now. Now you make yours."
