Laughing, male, taunting. Astraea looked up, wiping the blood from her eyes. Her dress was torn, and bloodied, her body broken, and ripped apart. She had been at this hell house for two months, and every night she was visited. Every night she prayed to any God or Goddess that would listen, to spare her from the men's desire. Every night, those prayers went unanswered. Astraea had stopped crying, standing up and walking over to the middle of the room, waiting. Blood dripped down her legs, arms and torso, where men ripped, plundered and maimed. She held her blonde head high, green eyes defiant, waiting. Her Father was the Ghost of Sparta, she should show no fear, to honour him. Kratos was a good man. Astraea had to believe that he was, for it was the only thing that got her through the days and nights. Three drunk men stumbled through the chamber door, cackling. "Look who it is, the Spartan whore!" they jeered, throwing bottles at the woman. Astraea dodged them, unimpressed. "Where's your Mother and Father now? No one wants you, well, apart from us" Astraea closed her eyes, and clenched her teeth, waiting for the first blow. A punch to her stomach winded her, pushing her to the ground. Laughing surrounded her, she screamed, feeling the tear, the burn, the rip...

"Astraea!" Kratos roared, all but shaking the girl awake. Astraea jumped up automatically "Father?" Kratos sighed, and stood up, looking down at his disheveled child. Her hair was down, a curly mess down her slender back, and her green eyes frightened, but hiding it well. "We are here, daughter, we may rest for the night" Astraea nodded, standing off the chair she had fallen asleep on. She tied her back, and sheathed her sword in the hidden scabbard underneath her skirt. She ran to catch up to her Spartan father. "Father, where are we?" she whispered, looking around her. The place was in ruin, and beggers surrounded the pair, pleading for money. "It is a village unknown to many, but it supplies warm beds, nothing more" Kratos replied, tensing with every stranger passing them. Both his experiences, and the need to protect his daughter, spurred him to suspect everyone. The Spartans pushed through the crowd, and made their way to a small Inn. As soon as the two stepped onto the threshold, the patrons scattered. Kratos and Astraea ignored them, far too used to it to care. "Hey, it's that girl we had for months in Thebes" Astraea flinched at the familier jeering voices.

Kratos turned, slowly. "She's found a new master! Whore moves on pretty quick" The large group of 10 men laughed to themselves, not noticing the rising fury in the pale man. "Father..." Astraea hissed, a warning, if nothing else. The men fell silent as one of their party approached Astraea, "She was so much fun...come on child, how about you and I have a little game?" The man moved his hand lower, and brushed Astraea's breast. It was the last straw. With a roar that would shake the pillars of Olympus, Kratos rushed towards the Thebian. The man screamed, and tried to run. Kratos swung his chained blades, and the mans torso was ripped from his legs. The other 10 men yelled, running. They were no match for the Spartan. Soon enough, Kratos was once again surrounded by corpses. The men deserved to die twice. Astraea stepped gracefully over a head, and walked over to her Father. "Thank you" Kratos pushed past her, and stormed upstairs to their room. Astraea sighed, and followed, careful to overstep the spreading puddle of blood. "Father?" Astraea called, knocking. There was no answer, so she let herself in. Her eyes widened, and jumped out of the way of a swinging blade. "Leave me!" Kratos roared, seating himself back down on the bed. "No" Astraea disobeyed. Kratos glared dangerously up at his daughter. "You dare defy me!"

Astraea nodded, "Yes. Whether or not you admit it, captain, you still require my aid" Kratos growled, "Your mother did not teach you manners, girl, but your disobedience will not be tolerated here" His daughter stared unblinkingly back, the only one Kratos had met in a long while that could stand his glare. "I'm sorry" Kratos blinked, leting his defences down, slightly. "I'm sorry those men were here. I'm sorry I cause you pain. I'm sorry I'm not your perfect daughter. But most of all I'm sorry that I was weak. I should've taken those bastards down when I had the chance" Astraea clenched her fist at the mention of her tormentors. Kratos sheethed his bloody swords. His eyes were, for the first time in years, warm. "Come, you have not slept in days" Kratos guided Astraea to one side of the huge bed. Astraea let her golder hair down, and settled into the sheets. Kratos actually tucked them up to her chin, before realising what he was doing, and stopped. "Goodnight Father" Astraea mumbled, already loosing her fight with conscious thought. "Sleep well, daughter" Kratos muttered. He promised himself he'd never feel like this again. The constant compassion that welled inside him at looking his little girl. A young woman now. Kratos never got to see her learn to walk, talk, loose her first tooth. He looked away from the sleeping form. He couldn't be a Father again, not after he lost precious Caliape, whom he loved dearly. He lost everything, he couldn't bear to loose it again. He needed to be stoic, strong, invincible. He lay down next to his daughter, feeling the body heat radiating off of her. He couldn't stop the feelings even if he tried. He turned and stared into the innocent face of his daughter. He would have to take that innocence and compact her into a fighting machine, like himself, if he was to keep her alive. For now, however, he was content at simply gazing into the face of his daughter, more beautiful than any Goddess, under the cover of night.