never knew my father.
I never even met my father until I was grown to womanhood, and even then, it was long after the passing of my mother, my trials under my foster-mother, Morgienne, and my usurpation to become High Lady of the Fortunate Isle.
Gan Ceanach, an Unseelie Prince, known by many names, came to my mother, a devoted young priestess, much to the chagrin of the High Lady of the Island, Morgienne. Within a moon, they realized that my mother was with child. That child was I. He never came to my mother again, not even when she gave birth to me. My father’s brand of Fae arrogance exceeded that of all others. He couldn’t be found, let alone be bothered it seemed.
When I did finally meet him at last, he was not the one that I had created in my mind. He was charming to be sure. Most dark, Sidhe princes are charming to a fault. For years there were so many questions that had gathered on the tip of my tongue; questions that I had wanted to ask him all of my life. Yet in the moments of our first and only encounter, I could think of little to say to him. There were no long-lost words of love or exchanges of fond embraces between us. I was just another member of the Court who was no better and certainly no worse than any other.
Admittedly, his absence created in me the desire to create a father of my own imaginings, one of my own choosing. That father was kind and listened to my every concern. He was there because my mother was dead and gone. He soothed the tears that were rendered because of my foster-mother Morgienne’s cruelty. That man I created – and the reality of my father in fact became everyman in a way that I was ever involved with. It was always one or the other. It wasn’t until much later that I realized not having my father in my life made me stronger, more ambitious – and gave me a clearer picture of what it was that I wanted for my own children, as well as what I didn’t want.
I should be grateful that it was by my father that I was given my Fae blood, and as such ’immortality’ of a kind. I will confess, at times it has been both a blessing and a curse. Though I have seen four centuries, I am daunted by that now. No, I do not love my father. I do not hate him either.
I feel….nothing. And that disturbs me more than anything else.
Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore/ Mythology
Word Count: 455
2 responses to “Talk about your father….”
Very entertaining and from my interactions with others who have had similar experiences…missing father…from very early age etc, very accurate. They too feel little if anything toward their father…I think now of one person in particular.
Thank you for sharing this.
Your father was a fool, Madam. He deprived himself of the lovely young girl you must have been and the beautiful, astute woman that you have become.