birthrightgreen: (Kindred)
I'm not sure about the "intentionally making a fool of myself" bit, but I did what I did intentionally and knew I looked a fool doing it, so I'm going to say it's my journal and that's how I'm interpreting the question.

It was shortly after Winsol. I was still contemplating the move to Amdarh, still not sure what to do about Samael, about Daemon, about...anything really. I'd wrapped the gifts in paper that I bought in New York, a city in the other Realm, other world. Something to share of what I'd seen with my family.

It had snowmen on it, and I was intrigued. It's not that children in Kaeleer and Terreille don't make snowpeople. They do. Beautiful ones. But I never got the chance. Not much snow in the slums of Draega and a child whoring herself on the streets doesn't have time for such things.

Looking back, there was only one time I can even say I played in the snow. I was 20 and had decided to take some time off--just a week or so--and get away from the Red Moon houses. The court Daemon was serving at was busy with their preparations and he was able to slip away as well. We met in Shalador at one of our hideaways. Well, his hideaway that would become one of mine. There was snow and it was hard for him to get me off of the sofa in front of the fire with my nice book, but he managed it by promising to cook dinner for the next three nights. We went for a walk, and I'd gotten a bit ahead of him when something hit me from behind. He'd thrown a snowball at me and I just...stared at him. The Sadist was throwing snowballs? Of course, at that time I'd only heard the name. I was a child, really, still. Hadn't even made my Offering yet. I scooped snow up and threw it back. The bastard put up a shield, smirking. It was war pretty quickly though, and he finally dropped the shield to give me a fighting chance. We went back inside only when our fingers were too numb to do anything else. Two whores laughing in the kitchen on holiday from their lives. He made me wrap up in a blanket to not catch a chill and brought me hot toddies all night.

But since that week, 'til this Winsol...it wasn't really something I'd done again. I looked back on it as a bit of childhood that was stolen from me. A Winsol gift from my friend.

So when Daemon suggested we make the snowman on the Hall's grounds, I sort of stared at him. He'd been humoring a child then. We were both adults now. I mean, if he wanted to take Daemonar out to build a snow man, that was different. But no. He tugged me outside again, with the same eagerness he'd shown that week so long ago.

Do you know how ridiculous people look rolling snow balls around on a lawn to make them bigger? Graysfang got involved as well, thrilled to be able to play whatever game we were playing and knocked it over more than once. We broke to play snowball fetch with him, and I, ex-whore and assassin, was chasing a wolf around a yard trying to retrieve the snowman's nose and eyes. I tripped, falling flat on my face in the snow and Daemon almost fell over from laughing at me so hard. That degenerated into a snowball fight of our own because such an insult as laughing at me had to be repaid with snow down his back. Graysfang pounced us both and there was wrestling and possibly tickling. We were both soaked through by the end of it, warming spells or not, and we looked a sight. My hair was bedraggled and falling all down and my trousers were muddy and covered in bits of grass that hadn't quite been covered yet. Flushed and sweating and panting for air and Daemon...immaculate, never a hair out of place Daemon was not in much better shape. We both looked like fools. Grown-ups playing like children and making a mess of the lovely carpets when they tramped back inside. I knew it. I had only to look at Daemon to know what I must look like.

And I just...didn't care. It didn't matter. I'm not sure I'd ever had that much fun.

We got back down to business when Graysfang finally collapsed in exhaustion and by the end we had a snowman. In a nice dinner jacket. With a snifter of brandy in his hand and a look about him that sent us both scampering inside before anyone could see who'd made the snowman on the lawn that looked like the High Lord of Hell.
birthrightgreen: (tilted head - young)
It was decided. The man would make the house ready for us, and we would go in two days time. A home, warm and safe. School for me. I could read already. Mother had seen to that. But this Craft they spoke of...

Titian didn't talk about it. I know now, it's because she couldn't reach her own, and was too young to know what to do for me. Broken as she was, she couldn't teach me herself and she made barely enough money to see me fed. Tutors were an expense she couldn't dream of affording. But the man was going to pay for it, and he didn't ask her anything in return.

I practiced saying his name in my head as I lay in bed. Daemon. Sadi. Daemon Sadi. If I practiced other things in my head, that shall remain the foolishness of a ten year old girl that none of you need to know about.

All my practicing was interrupted by their voices in the other room.

"Who was her father?" Already that deadly purr told me to be wary.

"She has no father," my mother snarled back. It was her right. She could deny paternity. She'd never told me, that was for sure.

"Who sired her?" His voice hadn't changed tone.

Titian growled. That was never a good thing, and for a minute, I was scared for the man. I'd seen my mother kill. But then I remembered his eyes, and I knew that he couldn't be killed.

His voice was gentler. "Who did this to you? To her? Took you so young and then left you both like this."

"He doesn't know she exists. He can never know. Never." There was fear in my mother's voice and that scared me more than the rest.

I didn't know it then, but he could have just picked the information from her brain. For all I know, he already had. She knew that, too, of course. But for some reason he wanted her to say it.

Maybe he wanted me to know.

"Who was he?"

There was a long silence, and then finally, her voice again, defeated. Afraid. "Kartane SaDiablo."

Even I felt a thrill of fear at that. Dorothea's son. It was no wonder we were always so afraid. Hiding.

"I see." And he did. More than I did, then. All the reasons I had to be hidden. No one knew how strong I'd be, but if Dorothea knew she had a granddaughter who could grow to be as strong as I am now...I might not have been schooled in politics and Craft as I am now, but I knew that was bad.

That such a name would follow me. Haunt me. Her blood in mine. That taint. Hayll and then Terreille lives in fear of her, and we were no exception.

Only now I knew we had a reason.

First Time

Jul. 9th, 2005 12:32 am
birthrightgreen: (Default)
The first time I saw Daemon Sadi I was ten years old. A week before my mother had brought home a witch lost in the Twisted Kingdom, called Tersa. We'd cared for her as best we could, and then one day she was gone, a pattern to be repeated time and again. A week later she returned, with the coldest, handsomest man I had ever seen. My first Warlord Prince. Tersa talked to my mother about nothing and everything, and the whole time his eyes rested on me. I was terrified, sugar, let me tell you that much. Then Tersa stopped babbling and turned to him.

"The child is Blood and should be trained in the Craft. She has the right to wear the Jewels if she's strong enough. Daemon, please?"

He stared at me a while longer and then he seemed to come to a decision. He pulled out a great deal of gold marks and laid them on the table. Then he made some sort of list and left it, and a key on top of the money. He finally spoke, of a house not far from the shack we lived in, that was warm and clean. Of tutors for me. Lessons to be learned.

He asked nothing of my mother than that she allow Tersa to stay there whenever she wished it. The rent was paid already. The money was for clothing and food and the things I'd need to learn.

My mother was able to stop whoring, and a new world opened up to me as I started to learn from tutors -- languages, Craft, history. The next spring Tersa came and took me to the nearest Sanctuary for my Birthright Ceremony, when I was given my Green. My mother gave me hers, set in the necklace I still wear, when I came home. I spent my days learning Craft and general education, and at night my mother taught me to use a knife. Her Craft was gone, but she was still an expert in that arena and she taught me well.

We were happy there for two years, until that was shattered by her murder.

The second time I saw Daemon Sadi was three years after that--five from the first time. I'd been living on the street, whoring for food, killing for ... something. He trapped me in an alley, then dragged me to another part of the Realm, where Tersa waited. Once again, he found me a home, this time in a Red Moon house where they trained me in the intricacies of whoring in reputable houses, skills far beyond what goes on in backstreet alleys. He also arranged for the continuation of the education he'd started five years before. Languages, literature, history. And he arranged for tutors to continue the training my mother began, to hone my second set of skills.

He was a regular part of my life after that. Always has been. Can't say I see that changing, especially now we know we're family, may the Darkness be merciful. I get the feeling that means I'm somewhat stuck with him along with the rest of them.

There are days I wish I could go back to being an orphan. But when I was, sometimes I liked to pretend they were my family--Tersa and Daemon. Closest thing I had after my mother died, until the last few years. All those years--I didn't know who he was then. Just the beautiful man who gave me a home and opened the world to me. I didn't know the Sadist until much later. Didn't know what that meant for several centuries even. He was just Sadi. Now I know. I've seen it. I've felt it. I know when to be wary. I know what he's capable of.

But he's still just Sadi.

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