Bride of War (18+)

88

Nathaniel

My little feet platter against the stone of the temple as I hide under the comforter in Slade's bed. He is chasing after me, towel in hand. I'm soaking wet, my hair dripping, little feet slipping on the water I'm leaving behind.

The door opens with a thud, and I press my hands to my mouth to contain my giggle. I lift the cover and peek out.

"Hi," I giggle.

Slade's frown dissipates, a chuckle seeping out of him as he opens his arms. He's laughing now, full-on belly laughing even though I got him drenched.

I run into his arms and he wraps the towel around me, nuzzling my head.

"Hi," he laughs, pulling back, and sitting me on the bed. I keep laughing, and he ruffles my hair, trying to contain his own laughter to lecture me.

He fails, instead, leaning down, sitting next to me on the floor, his hand on my head.

"You'll get sick," he smiles, wrapping me in the cover tightly. "What have I told you about running away without a towel?"

"Not to," I repeat.

He shakes his head, with a sigh. He looks over my face, something like nostalgia on his. Then he looks away, and his smile is gone, but there's a lightness in his expression. He pulls his hands together, making a little flame in his palms.

I lean forward.

"Careful," he murmurs, pushing me back gently. "You'll hurt yourself."

I look up at him, those red eyes, just like mine. "Even though I'm like you?"

He looks down at me, and then at the fire in his hands. "You are not like me. You are born. You are human. You can be hurt. You must be very careful, Nathaniel."

"I'm not like you?" I echo.

Slade looks me in my eyes. "You are my son. That is why, although fire in my hands does not cause me pain, it will hurt me, to see you hurt."

I reach out anyway. My fingertips touch the flame. He doesn't stop me. I wince, and he heals me immediately.

"Do you see now?" He asks simply.

I look down at my hand and up at his. "Are you hurt? Because I'm hurt."

He nods, and he shifts the flame to one hand, putting the other on my head. "Yes. In my heart, I am hurt for you, my son. So be careful. Protect yourself as a human would."

I smile. "I love you, Father."

He smiles back, pressing his forehead to mine. "And I...love you, my son."

I shift to that same room, Monika wrapping a bandage around my hand.

"I'm a god you know," I muttered bitterly. "It'll heal in a moment."

She just shrugs, humming gently. Then she's content, patting my hand, her eyes catching the scene in the window. It is snowing.

"Why won't you just leave me be?" I whisper. "I know I'm an eyesore. His bastard son."

She turns to me, and for a moment she almost looks hurt. And then her expression collapses into a smile.

"You shouldn't speak that way about yourself, Nathaniel." She stands, her feet leaving the ground as she does, closing the curtains.

I'm not sure why. An excuse to linger I suppose. She would love to Mother me the way she does the others, makes her feel superior I suppose.

I hate it.

"No one thinks of you that way, least of all me." She says softly, then she's just hovering in front of me, pitying me.

"You are just one of Slade's beloved children. And...well...I love you too. Even though," she looks away, her hands balling together. "You and I aren't as close. I know it's odd, me being so young and an outsider to you."

She sighs, before shaking her head. "Never mind that. Just take care of yourself," she grows a daisy in her hand setting it on the dresser as she stands by the door.

She lingers, wanting to say something. I wish she would spit it out.

"I've come to think of you, of all of you, as my very own," she admits with a softness. "I know it's something disgusting to you, and I understand. But at the very least, take care that you don't hurt yourself, okay?"

I open my eyes, looking around. "Where are we?"

That woman holds her hands out to me. My stomach turns. What am I even doing here?

"Come to mother-"

I lick her hand away. "Do not call yourself that. You are not my mother," my spit, disgust overwhelming me.

Azareal just smirks. "Oh, boo-hoo. What? You fancy the human?"

Fancy? Heh. How perverted. But then again, from the stories I've heard about him and Dion, that's his MO.

"If you knew Dion was Slade's son, and you knew you were Slade's son...why would you be touching him the way you did?" I stand, towering over him. "I may not like the little bastard, but I owe you some pain for what you did to him."

Aszareal waves his hand nonchalantly. "Yes yes," he rolls his eyes dramatically. "We are your blood but they are your found family," he mocks me, standing up to me.

He's not like me. I look over at the woman.

The reason I came. I push him aside, approaching her. "I want to know why you chose me. Why didn't you leave us both with him? Why didn't you come back? What was your relationship with my father-"

I pause. Why didn't you keep me? Why didn't you ever come to see me? Didn't you...

Didn't you love me?

She stared back at me blankly. Without recognition. I am just a pawn to her. Azareal too. It's clear. There's no motherly affection to be had from this woman.

I close my eyes. That's all I wanted to know. I just needed to be sure. My heart still pangs.

I back away. "I was not deceived by you," I admit. "You calling yourself my mother was never the influence you may have expected."

She raised her brow.  "Oh? Did I not birth you?"

I shrug. "I do not remember. So does it matter? You are not my mother. My mother is a woman, who, though thousands of years younger than me, attempted to reach my heart, and care for me."

I look away. "Even when I was cold, even when I wished harm upon her, she tried to show her sincerity to me, and because of your neglect, I didn't know how to respond."

I clench my jaw. I look at this boy. I am glad...I was taken in by my father. What a pitiful life he must have led.

"And you are not my brother. I have two brothers, and both of them are terrible." I inform him. "But neither are as terrible as you."

He stared back at me boredly.

I close my eyes. I am in this moment, the son of Slade, God of war. And of Monika, Goddess of love.

So I will do what I came here to do.

I extend my hand. "But I could've been just like you. That woman is a treasonous existence and she will be dealt with. It is not your fault..."

He stared at my hand. We share the same eyes. No...the same color. I thought my childhood was bad but it appears...it appears I had it easy.

"So let us leave. Slade will lock you up for a while, but he will care for you because you are his son."

Azarel scoffs, standing, knocking my hand away.

"Do you think I'll be swayed by these types of speeches?" He asks, with a smirk. "You are weak-"

And I chuckle at that. Really chuckle. Because...I think I would've said the same thing not too long ago.

"No...I am not weak. You are just angry. And I have no reason to be. Not anymore."