Sins of the Father

Sins of the Father Chapter Twelve (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta...*stonehaven jitters * I have decided you're also a Beverage Goddess, lol. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are loverly archivy/hosty people! :) ProPhile is around here somewhere... Morgan is GLOMPED Readers/Reviewers: And the armadillos rejoiced... They are building a giant armadillo to fight the giant Killer Kitty (tm) They worry me... And THANKS!!!!!


"What the fuck?"
"I have no clue," Lance groaned as Amara hurried by with a heap tray of fruit and what seemed to be a glass of wine. "Hey, Princess...where you heading?"
Todd snickered as the Nova Roman did not respond, simply made her way carefully up the stairs. "I think she's got the munchies, yo."
Lance rolled his eyes. "Fuck you, Toad," he muttered. After a second, he sighed. " Sorry. I didn't mean it." He glanced sideways at Todd and saw his friend's face set in mutinous lines. "The Toad part."
Todd shrugged. " 'sokay. Whatever." He quirked a half smile that confirmed his words. "Gotta have a codename an' all..."
Lance nodded slowly. Personally, he thought a codename that started life as an insult but he kept his opinion to himself for the time being. "She's been acting squirrelly all evening." He set his jaw and nodded. "Right. Come on. We're gonna see what's the deal." He marched towards the stairs as if towards battle.
Todd just stared for a second. "Uh, she ain't my girl, yo. Why you dragging me into this?" At Lance's pointed glare, Todd sighed. "Fine, fine...she fries me though and I'm making you change my bandages, even the oozy ones."
Lance snorted. "Sure, whatever." They gained the top of the stairs at roughly the same time, the mansion strangely silent considering all of the people within it's walls. "She got all weird about the Poena chick and now she's dragging all the food up to her room..." He paused. " Poena sound familiar to you, man?"
"Nah. Should it?" He glanced quickly at Rogue's door as they passed and grinned to himself. It was still a safe day and he had plans for later. "Maybe it's one of those trendy air head names like Brittany or something."
"Dude, how many chicks you know named Poena?" Lance rolled his eyes again and stopped in front of Amara's door.
"Um...one. Now." Todd shrugged and stood well away from the door. " Out of the line of fire, yo," he explained in answer to Lance's raised brow. "Gonna knock or what?"
Amara threw open the door before Lance could even raise his fist. "What is it?" she snapped, her eyes oddly bright, her hair hanging wild about her face. "I'm busy!"
Lance blinked rapidly in surprise. "Wanted to see what was up is all. So...what's up?"
Amara snorted. "I'm busy!" she repeated, slamming the door in his face.
Todd uttered a low whistle. "Dude...that was weird."
"Oh, shut up." Lance gritted his teeth and knocked firmly. "Amara, open the door."
The door opened so quickly that it's hinges uttered a squeak of protest. "Lance," Amara said sweetly, a stark contrast to moments before, "can you give me just one hour and I promise I'll tell you everything you want to know?"
He sighed. "Amara..."
"Please?" she asked softly, giving him a look that made Todd blush to see. "Just one hour?"
"Er...okay," Lance replied, his voice cracking a bit at the end. Amara shut the door again and he sighed. "An hour," he muttered.
"Dude...ever think maybe she's...cuckoo?"
"All the time, man. All the time."

"Will they bother you again?" Poena asked lightly. She reclined on Amara's bed, the trundle brought in for her use merely a convenient place to store things at the moment.
"No," Amara breathed, not quite meeting her eyes. She took up the recently acquired tray and brought it to the bed, genuflecting slightly as she placed it beside Poena. "I gathered what we had..." She glanced up quickly and away again as she accidentally met Poena's eyes. "I'm sorry it's not...better."
"Mmm..." Poena picked out an apple and took a noisy bite. "This will do for now." She glanced around the room again and smiled faintly. "Nice statues."
Amara prickled with pride. "I have kept your shrine even here... I despaired of ever finding you here, so far from Nova Roma...so far from Roma, even, but I did..." She hurried to the place of honor before the window, the elaborate but small altar meticulously tended in honor of her patroness. "I...I hope it is worthy of you." She did kneel then, facing the reclining woman with one hand resting on the foot of the small statue on the window sill.
"It seems fine," Poena sighed, abandoning the apple and moving fluidly to her feet. She paused, her face a study in perfection and stillness as if she were processing information, then she began a tour of the room. She murmured over the statuary, names and small smiles or frowns accompanying each one. She made the circuit and finished before Amara. Poena reached out and took up the silver bowl and blade before the statue. "You give blood1."
Amara's chin jerked up and involuntarily, she frowned. Schooling her features into bland submission, she murmured, "As is fit for a daughter of Poena." Her scars, now faded against her dark skin, seemed stark and burning at Poena's words. She remembered each cut, each subtle parting of the flesh, vividly and all at once, years upon years of giving of her self to the goddess folded into one single, blazing slice and outpouring of blood. She felt sick all of a sudden.
"Mmmm. Tell me, what do you do with it? The blood, that is?" Poena turned the bowl over in her hands, examining the crude markings Amara herself had etched into the soft metal. "Drink it, perhaps?"
"No!" Amara rose to her feet, unable to keep the horror out of her voice. "I pour it to the earth!"2 She cleared her throat softly and looked at her toes. "Just like we did at home."
Poena smiled slowly. "Amara Aquilla, I would like for you to do something for me..."


1 Blood sacrifice to Poena most likely did not occur and if it did, it was not in the form described here. Consider this a random Nova Roman variation on older rites.
2 A very common way to dispose of ritual libations and such for many pagans, return it to the earth from where it came.