Small Favors
By Bella K aka anthestria
Kratos asked little of the Gods. He knew his desire for battle and success on the battlefields greatly pleased the blood-thirsty Ares. At times, he felt the praise of Athena for his cunning and skills in action. When thunder rumbled across the battlefields, the great Zeus himself recognized his strengths. Kratos, son of Sparta, captain of the Spartan army, the greatest force on Earth.
But tonight he thanked three very different deities on Olympus. Hera, Demeter and Nona; yes, tonight he gave silent prayers of thanks and sent a servant to their temples to offer sacrifice in their honor. If ever he questioned the existence of the Gods or of their care for mortals, he knew now in his heart that they hear and heed the deep prayers of their devoted believers. He held the proof in his arms.
Sleeping in his massive arms, tucked within the soft linen bundle rested his newborn daughter. Her small body lay warm and strong, her lungs drew steady breaths, and her heart beat strong within her tiny chest. Just beyond, his wife Avdota slept the sleep of the righteous. Nearly thirteen hours of labor tore at her small body. She garnered vestiges of strength from somewhere and gave birth to their first child. Now she curled up toward the glowing fire,soaking in the comfort of the hearth.
All that just for a child that so soon, may be taken away to die.
The midwife gave her to the soldiers, let them wash the child in strong wine and hold her into the cold night air. Though she cried, all her limbs moved perfectly and her voice grew in volume with her displeasure. Deemed healthy, they placed her into Kratos' arms and congratulated him. A double-sided compliment; a Spartan such as Kratos, they mumbled, needed to bring sons into this world. No doubt she would grow into a strong woman such as her mother. Hearing those comments again, he began to study her face closely. Soft pink lips puckered slightly in an 'O' shape as she slept, plump cheeks flushed in comforting warmth, long black lashes that protected her darkly colored eyes…she was a Spartan girl through and through. She would be her mother's daughter: strong, courageous, intelligent and beautiful.
But this is what he asked for. A son of Sparta followed the same path as all others before him. And though he prided himself on detachment from such weakened emotions as worry and fear, the memory of his brother came back to him every night. Watching as they tore his beloved sibling from his protective hold, calling him weak and too puny; they threw him in the cage with the other boys. Taken out to the mountains, those children left to die in the elements. He never saw his brother again. So when he returned home from battle and found his wife nearly to term with his child, he silently prayed, nearly begged for it to be a healthy girl. Let the Gods spare him the same loss twice, let the mountains go untainted with the blood of his family line for this generation.
He named her Kalonice, a name meaning 'beautiful victory'. And as she stirred, deep emerald eyes peering up at him, silently asking him if he would protect and guide her, he raised her up and kissed the soft down of her head.
Yes, he would protect this gift of the Gods. His most glorious victory.
A/N: If you've played the game, you know how this turns out. I actually am considering another quick one-shot of him replaying this memory, but I'm not yet sure. We'll see how everything pans out.