The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
The minutes felt long, as if Kronos toyed with things to make them, mere mortals, live every excruciating moment in slow motion. Perhaps it was because there was so much happening around the King, and yet nothing that Sil could do, but the wait was unpleasant to say the least.
As if to distract himself, he took a sip from the cup he had so carefully poured himself, swallowed.Repeated. He could feel the stress of those around him, but had no comfort to offer. These things were out of their hands. They would play out the way the Gods saw fit, and they would be left to mop up the mess afterwards.
Only Silanos was not really one for hanging around when things went south, and even now, if he could, he would have slipped out into the night rather than bear witness to this, and whatever shape the aftermath would take. Longingly, his eyes flickered towards the door, but it was a useless hope. Noone would be going anywhere, already the guards had been assembled, Sil’s eyes finding Maleos there,oh what surprise, and he expected Timaeus would be somewhere else. They were stuck here, until whatever conclusion befell them all.
Resigned to such a fate, he pulled back his chair as if he were about to sit, ready and willing to hide the very real discomfort he felt behind false nonchalance. He would have done in too,had it not been for boom that broke through the Dikastirio. This time, it was not the royal dais that drew eyes, but the great doors at the end of the hall. Uncomfortably close, actually, to where Silanos, Leto, Imeeya and Iolanthe lingered.
Boom. Another, and Silanos set down his wine, his glance straying towards the other end of the room where shouts could be heard. The King stood, he noted. Looked like death had spat him back out again, but he lived. And as if he were not quite accepting of it yet, Sil had to look back at the doors again, at the sudden scramble of the guards and it hit home that this night was going from pretty shitty to all out fucking terrible.
There were people trying to break into the Dikastirio. And as much Sil would have liked to think it was just some entertainment, or perhaps a physician summoned for the King. Well, with all the panicked faces and the scramble of the guards it didn’t seem likely. He jerked into action.
“Ok, now you can move. Get under the table, Leto.” He looked at his cousin, and Lady Imeeya too . “Now! Whoever is coming through those doors wasn’t invited, understand? Hide yourselves!”
The scraping of the chair legs as he pulled them back was lost as another thud, the sound splintering of wood filled the hall. “Come on, move!” Disregarding propriety, Silanos urged them to follow his instructions with a little physical encouragement, trying not to let his panic show on his face. He was grateful for the presence of the guards between they and the doors, but they were still too close for comfort, and some sick part of him consoled himself that likely anyone entering would be more concerned with the royal family than with the likes of them.
“Lady Imeeya!” It was a sound of frustration, and Sil stepped around the table to take her arm. He would fold her under the godsdamned table if he had to.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The minutes felt long, as if Kronos toyed with things to make them, mere mortals, live every excruciating moment in slow motion. Perhaps it was because there was so much happening around the King, and yet nothing that Sil could do, but the wait was unpleasant to say the least.
As if to distract himself, he took a sip from the cup he had so carefully poured himself, swallowed.Repeated. He could feel the stress of those around him, but had no comfort to offer. These things were out of their hands. They would play out the way the Gods saw fit, and they would be left to mop up the mess afterwards.
Only Silanos was not really one for hanging around when things went south, and even now, if he could, he would have slipped out into the night rather than bear witness to this, and whatever shape the aftermath would take. Longingly, his eyes flickered towards the door, but it was a useless hope. Noone would be going anywhere, already the guards had been assembled, Sil’s eyes finding Maleos there,oh what surprise, and he expected Timaeus would be somewhere else. They were stuck here, until whatever conclusion befell them all.
Resigned to such a fate, he pulled back his chair as if he were about to sit, ready and willing to hide the very real discomfort he felt behind false nonchalance. He would have done in too,had it not been for boom that broke through the Dikastirio. This time, it was not the royal dais that drew eyes, but the great doors at the end of the hall. Uncomfortably close, actually, to where Silanos, Leto, Imeeya and Iolanthe lingered.
Boom. Another, and Silanos set down his wine, his glance straying towards the other end of the room where shouts could be heard. The King stood, he noted. Looked like death had spat him back out again, but he lived. And as if he were not quite accepting of it yet, Sil had to look back at the doors again, at the sudden scramble of the guards and it hit home that this night was going from pretty shitty to all out fucking terrible.
There were people trying to break into the Dikastirio. And as much Sil would have liked to think it was just some entertainment, or perhaps a physician summoned for the King. Well, with all the panicked faces and the scramble of the guards it didn’t seem likely. He jerked into action.
“Ok, now you can move. Get under the table, Leto.” He looked at his cousin, and Lady Imeeya too . “Now! Whoever is coming through those doors wasn’t invited, understand? Hide yourselves!”
The scraping of the chair legs as he pulled them back was lost as another thud, the sound splintering of wood filled the hall. “Come on, move!” Disregarding propriety, Silanos urged them to follow his instructions with a little physical encouragement, trying not to let his panic show on his face. He was grateful for the presence of the guards between they and the doors, but they were still too close for comfort, and some sick part of him consoled himself that likely anyone entering would be more concerned with the royal family than with the likes of them.
“Lady Imeeya!” It was a sound of frustration, and Sil stepped around the table to take her arm. He would fold her under the godsdamned table if he had to.
The minutes felt long, as if Kronos toyed with things to make them, mere mortals, live every excruciating moment in slow motion. Perhaps it was because there was so much happening around the King, and yet nothing that Sil could do, but the wait was unpleasant to say the least.
As if to distract himself, he took a sip from the cup he had so carefully poured himself, swallowed.Repeated. He could feel the stress of those around him, but had no comfort to offer. These things were out of their hands. They would play out the way the Gods saw fit, and they would be left to mop up the mess afterwards.
Only Silanos was not really one for hanging around when things went south, and even now, if he could, he would have slipped out into the night rather than bear witness to this, and whatever shape the aftermath would take. Longingly, his eyes flickered towards the door, but it was a useless hope. Noone would be going anywhere, already the guards had been assembled, Sil’s eyes finding Maleos there,oh what surprise, and he expected Timaeus would be somewhere else. They were stuck here, until whatever conclusion befell them all.
Resigned to such a fate, he pulled back his chair as if he were about to sit, ready and willing to hide the very real discomfort he felt behind false nonchalance. He would have done in too,had it not been for boom that broke through the Dikastirio. This time, it was not the royal dais that drew eyes, but the great doors at the end of the hall. Uncomfortably close, actually, to where Silanos, Leto, Imeeya and Iolanthe lingered.
Boom. Another, and Silanos set down his wine, his glance straying towards the other end of the room where shouts could be heard. The King stood, he noted. Looked like death had spat him back out again, but he lived. And as if he were not quite accepting of it yet, Sil had to look back at the doors again, at the sudden scramble of the guards and it hit home that this night was going from pretty shitty to all out fucking terrible.
There were people trying to break into the Dikastirio. And as much Sil would have liked to think it was just some entertainment, or perhaps a physician summoned for the King. Well, with all the panicked faces and the scramble of the guards it didn’t seem likely. He jerked into action.
“Ok, now you can move. Get under the table, Leto.” He looked at his cousin, and Lady Imeeya too . “Now! Whoever is coming through those doors wasn’t invited, understand? Hide yourselves!”
The scraping of the chair legs as he pulled them back was lost as another thud, the sound splintering of wood filled the hall. “Come on, move!” Disregarding propriety, Silanos urged them to follow his instructions with a little physical encouragement, trying not to let his panic show on his face. He was grateful for the presence of the guards between they and the doors, but they were still too close for comfort, and some sick part of him consoled himself that likely anyone entering would be more concerned with the royal family than with the likes of them.
“Lady Imeeya!” It was a sound of frustration, and Sil stepped around the table to take her arm. He would fold her under the godsdamned table if he had to.
Good grief, what was it now?
If this was to be the omen of King Vangelis' future rule, the kingdom of Colchis needed to make ready to sink into the sea. Of all the things that could be taken as poor handling or the Fates means of warning at a public and formal event, regicide and invasion came top of the list.
Not only was it irritating to watch as those he would have preferred to sit on the side-lines of the kingdom as far as ruling was concerned... Dionysios was also angered by those who bashed at the door on the opposing side. While he was not a supporter of who currently held the crown, the crown itself was sacred. And how dare anyone attempt to create a public usurpation by breaking down the door to the Dikastirio!
There would be no guards on the outside of the entryway. Of that, Dionysios knew. For the Dikastirio was a symbol and mark of openness and speech within the nobility. There was nothing of value inside besides the people themselves and there was no need to keep doors locked and passage forbidden. The doorways were kept open unless there was a meet in session. And even then, it was only to ensure stray information did not leak to misguided ears or to stop the drafty breeze of the mountainside from entering the chamber.
Whoever was on the other side would have no resistance until the wooden barricade they now beat against. A defence that was only put in place due to the king's murder...
Dionysios frowned...
Had the invaders just admitted their ignorance of the manner in which security was conducted around the monarch? It was a logical plan, to be sure, to weaken the head of the snake before attacking it. But had they not suspected a shut down upon the Dikastirio? Or not supposed it held even the minor fortifications it did?
Unsure whether to be more concerned that the invaders were stupid or foreign, Dionysios turned to seek the visage of his grandson. The boy was the hope for both the future of Colchis and for the Thanasi family so long as the new king didn't manage to breed any before he died. Which looked like it wouldn't - unfortunately - be today. Spotting the child with his aunt and uncle of each branch of his family, the patriarch of the Thanasi household rose from the table without urgency or hurried speed - for he was of an age where little vexed or startled him anymore unless people were being particularly unintelligent and annoying in the extreme - and moved to stand with the child, certain that his youngest son would be less help in terms of protection than if the prince had used one of the stuffed pigs as a bodyguard.
One gnarled hand landed on the boy’s shoulder, softly, whilst his other held upon his cane, keeping him tall and formidable, as he witnessed the cracking of the wooden barricade over the door.
"Stay with me, my boy." Dionysios commented, his fingers squeezing upon his young and slim shoulder.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Good grief, what was it now?
If this was to be the omen of King Vangelis' future rule, the kingdom of Colchis needed to make ready to sink into the sea. Of all the things that could be taken as poor handling or the Fates means of warning at a public and formal event, regicide and invasion came top of the list.
Not only was it irritating to watch as those he would have preferred to sit on the side-lines of the kingdom as far as ruling was concerned... Dionysios was also angered by those who bashed at the door on the opposing side. While he was not a supporter of who currently held the crown, the crown itself was sacred. And how dare anyone attempt to create a public usurpation by breaking down the door to the Dikastirio!
There would be no guards on the outside of the entryway. Of that, Dionysios knew. For the Dikastirio was a symbol and mark of openness and speech within the nobility. There was nothing of value inside besides the people themselves and there was no need to keep doors locked and passage forbidden. The doorways were kept open unless there was a meet in session. And even then, it was only to ensure stray information did not leak to misguided ears or to stop the drafty breeze of the mountainside from entering the chamber.
Whoever was on the other side would have no resistance until the wooden barricade they now beat against. A defence that was only put in place due to the king's murder...
Dionysios frowned...
Had the invaders just admitted their ignorance of the manner in which security was conducted around the monarch? It was a logical plan, to be sure, to weaken the head of the snake before attacking it. But had they not suspected a shut down upon the Dikastirio? Or not supposed it held even the minor fortifications it did?
Unsure whether to be more concerned that the invaders were stupid or foreign, Dionysios turned to seek the visage of his grandson. The boy was the hope for both the future of Colchis and for the Thanasi family so long as the new king didn't manage to breed any before he died. Which looked like it wouldn't - unfortunately - be today. Spotting the child with his aunt and uncle of each branch of his family, the patriarch of the Thanasi household rose from the table without urgency or hurried speed - for he was of an age where little vexed or startled him anymore unless people were being particularly unintelligent and annoying in the extreme - and moved to stand with the child, certain that his youngest son would be less help in terms of protection than if the prince had used one of the stuffed pigs as a bodyguard.
One gnarled hand landed on the boy’s shoulder, softly, whilst his other held upon his cane, keeping him tall and formidable, as he witnessed the cracking of the wooden barricade over the door.
"Stay with me, my boy." Dionysios commented, his fingers squeezing upon his young and slim shoulder.
Good grief, what was it now?
If this was to be the omen of King Vangelis' future rule, the kingdom of Colchis needed to make ready to sink into the sea. Of all the things that could be taken as poor handling or the Fates means of warning at a public and formal event, regicide and invasion came top of the list.
Not only was it irritating to watch as those he would have preferred to sit on the side-lines of the kingdom as far as ruling was concerned... Dionysios was also angered by those who bashed at the door on the opposing side. While he was not a supporter of who currently held the crown, the crown itself was sacred. And how dare anyone attempt to create a public usurpation by breaking down the door to the Dikastirio!
There would be no guards on the outside of the entryway. Of that, Dionysios knew. For the Dikastirio was a symbol and mark of openness and speech within the nobility. There was nothing of value inside besides the people themselves and there was no need to keep doors locked and passage forbidden. The doorways were kept open unless there was a meet in session. And even then, it was only to ensure stray information did not leak to misguided ears or to stop the drafty breeze of the mountainside from entering the chamber.
Whoever was on the other side would have no resistance until the wooden barricade they now beat against. A defence that was only put in place due to the king's murder...
Dionysios frowned...
Had the invaders just admitted their ignorance of the manner in which security was conducted around the monarch? It was a logical plan, to be sure, to weaken the head of the snake before attacking it. But had they not suspected a shut down upon the Dikastirio? Or not supposed it held even the minor fortifications it did?
Unsure whether to be more concerned that the invaders were stupid or foreign, Dionysios turned to seek the visage of his grandson. The boy was the hope for both the future of Colchis and for the Thanasi family so long as the new king didn't manage to breed any before he died. Which looked like it wouldn't - unfortunately - be today. Spotting the child with his aunt and uncle of each branch of his family, the patriarch of the Thanasi household rose from the table without urgency or hurried speed - for he was of an age where little vexed or startled him anymore unless people were being particularly unintelligent and annoying in the extreme - and moved to stand with the child, certain that his youngest son would be less help in terms of protection than if the prince had used one of the stuffed pigs as a bodyguard.
One gnarled hand landed on the boy’s shoulder, softly, whilst his other held upon his cane, keeping him tall and formidable, as he witnessed the cracking of the wooden barricade over the door.
"Stay with me, my boy." Dionysios commented, his fingers squeezing upon his young and slim shoulder.
Settled between her cousin and lover's sister, a blonde man she hadn't met before joining the end of their table, acquainted with Imeeya if no one else, Iolanthe was happy in her company. The sight of Timaeus wooing one of the Taengean visitors was cause for amusement but she kept those words to herself as the king began his speech. She had mourned the loss of the king as had the rest of Colchis, but the idea of a new reign with the handsome eldest son of Kotas at the helm was a new turning point. The court would be different as he began his reign, new fashions and developments would begin to take place, and they were right there at the forefront of it all.
She drank deeply of her wine after lifting it in toast to the king, setting the cup aside to quietly guide Leto in the choosing of food though the younger girl was becoming such a natural at court behavior that she really needed nothing more from her than an approving nod. The baroness turned away from her friend to address her cousin when the horrible choking sounds at the far end of the room drew her attention. Horrified, she stood along with Leto to see what was happening and clapped a hand over her mouth as Vangelis of Kotas appeared to fall victim to some attack. Gripping the younger girl's hand, she reached for Sil with the other as if ensuring that her companions were safe from any illness, but could only nod along with her cousin's assessment.
"We wait. And pray for the king."
Her voice was shaky as she sent up prayers to every god she could think of, hoping beyond hope that his reign would not be cut so short. The shouts and movement were taken in by blue eyes wide with concern as tears began to slide down her cheeks. Death was too close around her, with the loss of her husband, her brother's constant fading illness, the absence of Magnus depriving her of the knowledge that he was well. She sank back into her seat until the first thundering bang hit the door.
Whipping around in fear, she only had a moment to feel relieved that the King had made a recovery, his voice still booming through the hall despite the attempt on his life. Blessing the gods who had spared his life was a secondary thought as another harsh knock rang out against the doors that had been barred. Silanos' order sent her scrambling beneath the table, reaching over to pull Leto down beside her and wrapping her arms around the younger girl. Where was Magnus? What had kept him from coming home was depriving them now of the comfort of his presence, and even if he hadn't been able to prevent this she would have been at least able to tell him she loved him once more.
"Shh, we'll be alright...the soldiers are here to protect us."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Settled between her cousin and lover's sister, a blonde man she hadn't met before joining the end of their table, acquainted with Imeeya if no one else, Iolanthe was happy in her company. The sight of Timaeus wooing one of the Taengean visitors was cause for amusement but she kept those words to herself as the king began his speech. She had mourned the loss of the king as had the rest of Colchis, but the idea of a new reign with the handsome eldest son of Kotas at the helm was a new turning point. The court would be different as he began his reign, new fashions and developments would begin to take place, and they were right there at the forefront of it all.
She drank deeply of her wine after lifting it in toast to the king, setting the cup aside to quietly guide Leto in the choosing of food though the younger girl was becoming such a natural at court behavior that she really needed nothing more from her than an approving nod. The baroness turned away from her friend to address her cousin when the horrible choking sounds at the far end of the room drew her attention. Horrified, she stood along with Leto to see what was happening and clapped a hand over her mouth as Vangelis of Kotas appeared to fall victim to some attack. Gripping the younger girl's hand, she reached for Sil with the other as if ensuring that her companions were safe from any illness, but could only nod along with her cousin's assessment.
"We wait. And pray for the king."
Her voice was shaky as she sent up prayers to every god she could think of, hoping beyond hope that his reign would not be cut so short. The shouts and movement were taken in by blue eyes wide with concern as tears began to slide down her cheeks. Death was too close around her, with the loss of her husband, her brother's constant fading illness, the absence of Magnus depriving her of the knowledge that he was well. She sank back into her seat until the first thundering bang hit the door.
Whipping around in fear, she only had a moment to feel relieved that the King had made a recovery, his voice still booming through the hall despite the attempt on his life. Blessing the gods who had spared his life was a secondary thought as another harsh knock rang out against the doors that had been barred. Silanos' order sent her scrambling beneath the table, reaching over to pull Leto down beside her and wrapping her arms around the younger girl. Where was Magnus? What had kept him from coming home was depriving them now of the comfort of his presence, and even if he hadn't been able to prevent this she would have been at least able to tell him she loved him once more.
"Shh, we'll be alright...the soldiers are here to protect us."
Settled between her cousin and lover's sister, a blonde man she hadn't met before joining the end of their table, acquainted with Imeeya if no one else, Iolanthe was happy in her company. The sight of Timaeus wooing one of the Taengean visitors was cause for amusement but she kept those words to herself as the king began his speech. She had mourned the loss of the king as had the rest of Colchis, but the idea of a new reign with the handsome eldest son of Kotas at the helm was a new turning point. The court would be different as he began his reign, new fashions and developments would begin to take place, and they were right there at the forefront of it all.
She drank deeply of her wine after lifting it in toast to the king, setting the cup aside to quietly guide Leto in the choosing of food though the younger girl was becoming such a natural at court behavior that she really needed nothing more from her than an approving nod. The baroness turned away from her friend to address her cousin when the horrible choking sounds at the far end of the room drew her attention. Horrified, she stood along with Leto to see what was happening and clapped a hand over her mouth as Vangelis of Kotas appeared to fall victim to some attack. Gripping the younger girl's hand, she reached for Sil with the other as if ensuring that her companions were safe from any illness, but could only nod along with her cousin's assessment.
"We wait. And pray for the king."
Her voice was shaky as she sent up prayers to every god she could think of, hoping beyond hope that his reign would not be cut so short. The shouts and movement were taken in by blue eyes wide with concern as tears began to slide down her cheeks. Death was too close around her, with the loss of her husband, her brother's constant fading illness, the absence of Magnus depriving her of the knowledge that he was well. She sank back into her seat until the first thundering bang hit the door.
Whipping around in fear, she only had a moment to feel relieved that the King had made a recovery, his voice still booming through the hall despite the attempt on his life. Blessing the gods who had spared his life was a secondary thought as another harsh knock rang out against the doors that had been barred. Silanos' order sent her scrambling beneath the table, reaching over to pull Leto down beside her and wrapping her arms around the younger girl. Where was Magnus? What had kept him from coming home was depriving them now of the comfort of his presence, and even if he hadn't been able to prevent this she would have been at least able to tell him she loved him once more.
"Shh, we'll be alright...the soldiers are here to protect us."
Honestly, Evelli had thought Colchis would be stable. Wasn't that the whole reason why Olympia and Stephanos had fled to that country in the first place? When the sudden commotion at the table where the Colchian royals sat resulted in Selene more or less instantly darting in that direction, Evelli had looked up as well when Olympia gripped her arm. Instinctively, the mother lay a hand over her thirdborn's hand, always wanting to offer comfort whenever one of her offspring seemed distress.
She drew comforting strokes over Olympia's skin, but there was no denying that worry also pooled in her features as Evelli's eyes left the royal table - it seemed they had things well in hand, and if Selene were to do a great job in caring for the poisoned king, perhaps that would hasten the wedding that she would be able to attend it before she returned to Taengea.
Instead, the hazel eyes wandered the hall in search of Nana, holding Olympia with silent sounds of comfort when she felt her daughter's tears. The rightful Queen of Taengea had every right to be fearful, for the events of the past few days meant that she has had much to be fearful of - but right now, Evelli feared for more then just one daughter. Her futile attempt at finding her Nana intensified when the ramming of the doors started echoing throughout the hall, her heart rate speeding up in her chest as Evelli hurriedly stood up, even as Olympia tried tod rag her away.
Shaking her head, the woman resisted, still letting her gaze wander in every which way. Where had her wayward young offspring headed to? Last she saw, Nana had been in the company of a Colchian commander, or so Evelli heard. Would the commander be sufficient in ensuring the safety and survival of the blonde daughter of hers? Nana may be ditzy, and tested Evelli's patience more often then not, but she was still a daughter of her's, and Evelli had no bars when it came to any of her girls.
"Go, Pia. Find Stephanos and go." Evelli turned to Olympia and urged her to leave, not wanting Olympia to relieve any of the fear she had just so recently escaped from, or so they all hoped. Watching to make sure Olympia got to Stephanos, her eyes darted to the King of Taengea, a clear warning in them - keep her safe, or there would be hell to pay, and more on the way.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Honestly, Evelli had thought Colchis would be stable. Wasn't that the whole reason why Olympia and Stephanos had fled to that country in the first place? When the sudden commotion at the table where the Colchian royals sat resulted in Selene more or less instantly darting in that direction, Evelli had looked up as well when Olympia gripped her arm. Instinctively, the mother lay a hand over her thirdborn's hand, always wanting to offer comfort whenever one of her offspring seemed distress.
She drew comforting strokes over Olympia's skin, but there was no denying that worry also pooled in her features as Evelli's eyes left the royal table - it seemed they had things well in hand, and if Selene were to do a great job in caring for the poisoned king, perhaps that would hasten the wedding that she would be able to attend it before she returned to Taengea.
Instead, the hazel eyes wandered the hall in search of Nana, holding Olympia with silent sounds of comfort when she felt her daughter's tears. The rightful Queen of Taengea had every right to be fearful, for the events of the past few days meant that she has had much to be fearful of - but right now, Evelli feared for more then just one daughter. Her futile attempt at finding her Nana intensified when the ramming of the doors started echoing throughout the hall, her heart rate speeding up in her chest as Evelli hurriedly stood up, even as Olympia tried tod rag her away.
Shaking her head, the woman resisted, still letting her gaze wander in every which way. Where had her wayward young offspring headed to? Last she saw, Nana had been in the company of a Colchian commander, or so Evelli heard. Would the commander be sufficient in ensuring the safety and survival of the blonde daughter of hers? Nana may be ditzy, and tested Evelli's patience more often then not, but she was still a daughter of her's, and Evelli had no bars when it came to any of her girls.
"Go, Pia. Find Stephanos and go." Evelli turned to Olympia and urged her to leave, not wanting Olympia to relieve any of the fear she had just so recently escaped from, or so they all hoped. Watching to make sure Olympia got to Stephanos, her eyes darted to the King of Taengea, a clear warning in them - keep her safe, or there would be hell to pay, and more on the way.
Honestly, Evelli had thought Colchis would be stable. Wasn't that the whole reason why Olympia and Stephanos had fled to that country in the first place? When the sudden commotion at the table where the Colchian royals sat resulted in Selene more or less instantly darting in that direction, Evelli had looked up as well when Olympia gripped her arm. Instinctively, the mother lay a hand over her thirdborn's hand, always wanting to offer comfort whenever one of her offspring seemed distress.
She drew comforting strokes over Olympia's skin, but there was no denying that worry also pooled in her features as Evelli's eyes left the royal table - it seemed they had things well in hand, and if Selene were to do a great job in caring for the poisoned king, perhaps that would hasten the wedding that she would be able to attend it before she returned to Taengea.
Instead, the hazel eyes wandered the hall in search of Nana, holding Olympia with silent sounds of comfort when she felt her daughter's tears. The rightful Queen of Taengea had every right to be fearful, for the events of the past few days meant that she has had much to be fearful of - but right now, Evelli feared for more then just one daughter. Her futile attempt at finding her Nana intensified when the ramming of the doors started echoing throughout the hall, her heart rate speeding up in her chest as Evelli hurriedly stood up, even as Olympia tried tod rag her away.
Shaking her head, the woman resisted, still letting her gaze wander in every which way. Where had her wayward young offspring headed to? Last she saw, Nana had been in the company of a Colchian commander, or so Evelli heard. Would the commander be sufficient in ensuring the safety and survival of the blonde daughter of hers? Nana may be ditzy, and tested Evelli's patience more often then not, but she was still a daughter of her's, and Evelli had no bars when it came to any of her girls.
"Go, Pia. Find Stephanos and go." Evelli turned to Olympia and urged her to leave, not wanting Olympia to relieve any of the fear she had just so recently escaped from, or so they all hoped. Watching to make sure Olympia got to Stephanos, her eyes darted to the King of Taengea, a clear warning in them - keep her safe, or there would be hell to pay, and more on the way.
As much as Imeeya wanted to be anywhere but in present company, Imeeya was determined not to let her pleasant facade crack in front of Iolanthe and Leto at the very least. She was less concerned about what Silanos thought of her as she didn’t think too highly of them. She engaged in the pleasant small talk about her recent travels. At least until King Stephanos decided to plant himself right in between her and Iolanthe. While she found that slightly inconsiderate, given that they were talking, she had no opportunity to comment, as at that moment, Vangelis stood to give a speech on the current state of affairs in the kingdom. Imeeya wasn’t certain she had ever heard her cousin string together so many words at the same time before, and yet he seemed to be stepping into the role of king admirably.
Once Vangelis had finished speaking, they were presented with food to eat at the tables. Silanos asked her a question about speaking to her cousin, and Imeeya’s mind immediately jumped to the conversation she had had with the king only days before about her discussion with General Osorsen of Egypt. But how could Silanos possibly know about that? She quickly stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth to give herself a moment to think over her response, and maybe give the man a chance to elaborate on what he meant by bringing up her conversation with Vangelis. Of course, it was right when her mouth was full that Stephanos had to jump in with his own question. Imeeya nearly spat out the bread in indignation. Who did he think he was bringing up those horrible rumors right to her face as if he thought she might be proud of her? Of course, at the last minute, her manners kicked in, and she closed her mouth and found that the mouthful of bread had instead gone up her nose.
A few moments of coughing and sneezing later she looked up only to see the room had descended into complete chaos, with a small crowd of people gathering up at the front table. From the distressed murmurs around the hall, she heard remarks about how the king had been poisoned, and she stood, about to head up towards the others, surely there was something she could do, but she was too late. She could see the tension relax in those gathered around their king, he was going to be ok. Still, Imeeya wanted to see the evidence for herself, but she never got the chance.
A resounding boom echoed at the door to the chamber, only a few feet away from where they were seated. Someone was trying to break in! Imeeya’s brain tried to shift gears quickly, the near death of her king and cousin fighting with the immediacy of some sort of invading force for importance in her mind. It couldn’t be the Egyptians, not yet. At least, she couldn’t imagine they would be able to organize and transport an army that quickly. But someone had tried to poison Vangelis and now someone was trying to break in. It was too much to be a coincidence. More bangs came at the door, and she could hear the king ordering the soldiers to their stations, whatever was about to happen was serious. In that moment, she realized that she hadn’t seen her sister since they had first entered the hall. Imeeya had been quick to label Essa a burden and abandon her to the other guests and now she was regretting that decision. She needed to be there to protect her sister.
Imeeya was scanning the crowd, looking for any glimpse of her sister in the crowd when she felt herself being pulled down by the arm. It was Silanos who had been urging all of them to hide under the table. “I have to find Essa!” Imeeya protested, pulling against him for a moment, but there was a small part inside of her that she didn’t want to admit was there that was scared of what was coming through the door, so she didn’t fight the man as strongly as she could. She could only hope that her sister had found a similarly safe place to hide.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
As much as Imeeya wanted to be anywhere but in present company, Imeeya was determined not to let her pleasant facade crack in front of Iolanthe and Leto at the very least. She was less concerned about what Silanos thought of her as she didn’t think too highly of them. She engaged in the pleasant small talk about her recent travels. At least until King Stephanos decided to plant himself right in between her and Iolanthe. While she found that slightly inconsiderate, given that they were talking, she had no opportunity to comment, as at that moment, Vangelis stood to give a speech on the current state of affairs in the kingdom. Imeeya wasn’t certain she had ever heard her cousin string together so many words at the same time before, and yet he seemed to be stepping into the role of king admirably.
Once Vangelis had finished speaking, they were presented with food to eat at the tables. Silanos asked her a question about speaking to her cousin, and Imeeya’s mind immediately jumped to the conversation she had had with the king only days before about her discussion with General Osorsen of Egypt. But how could Silanos possibly know about that? She quickly stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth to give herself a moment to think over her response, and maybe give the man a chance to elaborate on what he meant by bringing up her conversation with Vangelis. Of course, it was right when her mouth was full that Stephanos had to jump in with his own question. Imeeya nearly spat out the bread in indignation. Who did he think he was bringing up those horrible rumors right to her face as if he thought she might be proud of her? Of course, at the last minute, her manners kicked in, and she closed her mouth and found that the mouthful of bread had instead gone up her nose.
A few moments of coughing and sneezing later she looked up only to see the room had descended into complete chaos, with a small crowd of people gathering up at the front table. From the distressed murmurs around the hall, she heard remarks about how the king had been poisoned, and she stood, about to head up towards the others, surely there was something she could do, but she was too late. She could see the tension relax in those gathered around their king, he was going to be ok. Still, Imeeya wanted to see the evidence for herself, but she never got the chance.
A resounding boom echoed at the door to the chamber, only a few feet away from where they were seated. Someone was trying to break in! Imeeya’s brain tried to shift gears quickly, the near death of her king and cousin fighting with the immediacy of some sort of invading force for importance in her mind. It couldn’t be the Egyptians, not yet. At least, she couldn’t imagine they would be able to organize and transport an army that quickly. But someone had tried to poison Vangelis and now someone was trying to break in. It was too much to be a coincidence. More bangs came at the door, and she could hear the king ordering the soldiers to their stations, whatever was about to happen was serious. In that moment, she realized that she hadn’t seen her sister since they had first entered the hall. Imeeya had been quick to label Essa a burden and abandon her to the other guests and now she was regretting that decision. She needed to be there to protect her sister.
Imeeya was scanning the crowd, looking for any glimpse of her sister in the crowd when she felt herself being pulled down by the arm. It was Silanos who had been urging all of them to hide under the table. “I have to find Essa!” Imeeya protested, pulling against him for a moment, but there was a small part inside of her that she didn’t want to admit was there that was scared of what was coming through the door, so she didn’t fight the man as strongly as she could. She could only hope that her sister had found a similarly safe place to hide.
As much as Imeeya wanted to be anywhere but in present company, Imeeya was determined not to let her pleasant facade crack in front of Iolanthe and Leto at the very least. She was less concerned about what Silanos thought of her as she didn’t think too highly of them. She engaged in the pleasant small talk about her recent travels. At least until King Stephanos decided to plant himself right in between her and Iolanthe. While she found that slightly inconsiderate, given that they were talking, she had no opportunity to comment, as at that moment, Vangelis stood to give a speech on the current state of affairs in the kingdom. Imeeya wasn’t certain she had ever heard her cousin string together so many words at the same time before, and yet he seemed to be stepping into the role of king admirably.
Once Vangelis had finished speaking, they were presented with food to eat at the tables. Silanos asked her a question about speaking to her cousin, and Imeeya’s mind immediately jumped to the conversation she had had with the king only days before about her discussion with General Osorsen of Egypt. But how could Silanos possibly know about that? She quickly stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth to give herself a moment to think over her response, and maybe give the man a chance to elaborate on what he meant by bringing up her conversation with Vangelis. Of course, it was right when her mouth was full that Stephanos had to jump in with his own question. Imeeya nearly spat out the bread in indignation. Who did he think he was bringing up those horrible rumors right to her face as if he thought she might be proud of her? Of course, at the last minute, her manners kicked in, and she closed her mouth and found that the mouthful of bread had instead gone up her nose.
A few moments of coughing and sneezing later she looked up only to see the room had descended into complete chaos, with a small crowd of people gathering up at the front table. From the distressed murmurs around the hall, she heard remarks about how the king had been poisoned, and she stood, about to head up towards the others, surely there was something she could do, but she was too late. She could see the tension relax in those gathered around their king, he was going to be ok. Still, Imeeya wanted to see the evidence for herself, but she never got the chance.
A resounding boom echoed at the door to the chamber, only a few feet away from where they were seated. Someone was trying to break in! Imeeya’s brain tried to shift gears quickly, the near death of her king and cousin fighting with the immediacy of some sort of invading force for importance in her mind. It couldn’t be the Egyptians, not yet. At least, she couldn’t imagine they would be able to organize and transport an army that quickly. But someone had tried to poison Vangelis and now someone was trying to break in. It was too much to be a coincidence. More bangs came at the door, and she could hear the king ordering the soldiers to their stations, whatever was about to happen was serious. In that moment, she realized that she hadn’t seen her sister since they had first entered the hall. Imeeya had been quick to label Essa a burden and abandon her to the other guests and now she was regretting that decision. She needed to be there to protect her sister.
Imeeya was scanning the crowd, looking for any glimpse of her sister in the crowd when she felt herself being pulled down by the arm. It was Silanos who had been urging all of them to hide under the table. “I have to find Essa!” Imeeya protested, pulling against him for a moment, but there was a small part inside of her that she didn’t want to admit was there that was scared of what was coming through the door, so she didn’t fight the man as strongly as she could. She could only hope that her sister had found a similarly safe place to hide.
Maleos knew he had been smart in trusting his instincts, it was only a moment after he claimed the guard’s sword for himself that who ever was outside the doors began their attempts at breaking in. He saw and heard the panic from the unarmed civilians behind him, but he himself remained calm in the face of what ever was coming next. His heart raced in his chest, his body pumping adrenaline through his veins in anticipation of having to defend his King and all those who remained defenseless. It was times like these that Maleos felt more alive than he ever had before, his mind full of a clarity that nothing else could induce. This is what Maleos lived for, the sort of situation where he thrived.
“You, fall back. Protect the innocents.” He demanded, voice booming over the commotion and noise in the room as he commanded a group of guards. They retreated backwards, moving to defend the people in the room should anyone make it past the front line.
“You three. Stay with the King and his family. Do not let anyone get to them, or I’ll have your heads myself.” He commanded, and the three men did as they were told. No one was questioning the orders, the low level soldiers seemed happy to have commands. There seemed to be miniature units forming, men that Damocles was ordering and men that were following Maleos’ orders. Luckily, as annoying as Damocles was, he was a good Captain, though his methods differed from Maleos’ own. As long as the job was done and no noble lives were lost, Maleos would consider this a win.
At this point, any unarmed people were corralled where they could be protected in the back of the room, a line of guards poised to defend should those at the front fall. Maleos stood at the front, a leader in title and in actions, he would not shy from the fight and command from the back lines. He stood, sword in hand and determined look on his face, ready to face anything that came through those doors.
“Ares, give us strength to defend those who can not defend themselves. Bless our swords that our enemies may fall in our wake. Let us show the true might of Colchis and make them regret testing our strength.” He prayed out loud, for himself and the men who stood to fight, his voice loud enough for almost everyone to hear. He truly felt strong in that moment, ready to face what ever came through that door at them. He tightened his grip on his sword and waited, blue-green eyes locked on the door as it threatened to give out under the force of the people on the other side.
“Steady yourselves.” He called out to the men, he could feel the nervous tension in the air, the opposite of his own calm demeanor. It was almost scary how calm Maleos was in the moment with all that was going on.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Maleos knew he had been smart in trusting his instincts, it was only a moment after he claimed the guard’s sword for himself that who ever was outside the doors began their attempts at breaking in. He saw and heard the panic from the unarmed civilians behind him, but he himself remained calm in the face of what ever was coming next. His heart raced in his chest, his body pumping adrenaline through his veins in anticipation of having to defend his King and all those who remained defenseless. It was times like these that Maleos felt more alive than he ever had before, his mind full of a clarity that nothing else could induce. This is what Maleos lived for, the sort of situation where he thrived.
“You, fall back. Protect the innocents.” He demanded, voice booming over the commotion and noise in the room as he commanded a group of guards. They retreated backwards, moving to defend the people in the room should anyone make it past the front line.
“You three. Stay with the King and his family. Do not let anyone get to them, or I’ll have your heads myself.” He commanded, and the three men did as they were told. No one was questioning the orders, the low level soldiers seemed happy to have commands. There seemed to be miniature units forming, men that Damocles was ordering and men that were following Maleos’ orders. Luckily, as annoying as Damocles was, he was a good Captain, though his methods differed from Maleos’ own. As long as the job was done and no noble lives were lost, Maleos would consider this a win.
At this point, any unarmed people were corralled where they could be protected in the back of the room, a line of guards poised to defend should those at the front fall. Maleos stood at the front, a leader in title and in actions, he would not shy from the fight and command from the back lines. He stood, sword in hand and determined look on his face, ready to face anything that came through those doors.
“Ares, give us strength to defend those who can not defend themselves. Bless our swords that our enemies may fall in our wake. Let us show the true might of Colchis and make them regret testing our strength.” He prayed out loud, for himself and the men who stood to fight, his voice loud enough for almost everyone to hear. He truly felt strong in that moment, ready to face what ever came through that door at them. He tightened his grip on his sword and waited, blue-green eyes locked on the door as it threatened to give out under the force of the people on the other side.
“Steady yourselves.” He called out to the men, he could feel the nervous tension in the air, the opposite of his own calm demeanor. It was almost scary how calm Maleos was in the moment with all that was going on.
Maleos knew he had been smart in trusting his instincts, it was only a moment after he claimed the guard’s sword for himself that who ever was outside the doors began their attempts at breaking in. He saw and heard the panic from the unarmed civilians behind him, but he himself remained calm in the face of what ever was coming next. His heart raced in his chest, his body pumping adrenaline through his veins in anticipation of having to defend his King and all those who remained defenseless. It was times like these that Maleos felt more alive than he ever had before, his mind full of a clarity that nothing else could induce. This is what Maleos lived for, the sort of situation where he thrived.
“You, fall back. Protect the innocents.” He demanded, voice booming over the commotion and noise in the room as he commanded a group of guards. They retreated backwards, moving to defend the people in the room should anyone make it past the front line.
“You three. Stay with the King and his family. Do not let anyone get to them, or I’ll have your heads myself.” He commanded, and the three men did as they were told. No one was questioning the orders, the low level soldiers seemed happy to have commands. There seemed to be miniature units forming, men that Damocles was ordering and men that were following Maleos’ orders. Luckily, as annoying as Damocles was, he was a good Captain, though his methods differed from Maleos’ own. As long as the job was done and no noble lives were lost, Maleos would consider this a win.
At this point, any unarmed people were corralled where they could be protected in the back of the room, a line of guards poised to defend should those at the front fall. Maleos stood at the front, a leader in title and in actions, he would not shy from the fight and command from the back lines. He stood, sword in hand and determined look on his face, ready to face anything that came through those doors.
“Ares, give us strength to defend those who can not defend themselves. Bless our swords that our enemies may fall in our wake. Let us show the true might of Colchis and make them regret testing our strength.” He prayed out loud, for himself and the men who stood to fight, his voice loud enough for almost everyone to hear. He truly felt strong in that moment, ready to face what ever came through that door at them. He tightened his grip on his sword and waited, blue-green eyes locked on the door as it threatened to give out under the force of the people on the other side.
“Steady yourselves.” He called out to the men, he could feel the nervous tension in the air, the opposite of his own calm demeanor. It was almost scary how calm Maleos was in the moment with all that was going on.
Lord Mihail had seen seen her look and he headed in her direction. The guards tried to block his way. Athanasia, concentrating on keeping Dion from looking over to where his uncle struggled to breathe, was about to tell them to let him in. But he said that she had sent for him, and when the guards glanced over at her, she nodded.
He immediately put a hand on Dion's shoulder to calm him. Their nephew was eleven and smart for his age. He had to be aware of what was going on. He didn't cry but his eyes were wide with fear. Mihail would be able to comfort him better than she could. He needed to be reminded of who he was and that he had to be strong. She could say those things to him herself, but they would mean more coming from a man he respected.
Mihail had more faith in Lady Thea than she did. His words were encouraging, though, and she smiled gratefully if a bit wanly. One eyebrow quirked upward when he revealed that if not for his sister, he wouldn't be here today. Athanasia wanted to ask him more about that, but now was not the time. “I hope you're right,” she replied, trying not to sound as scared as she was. Left unsaid was that if Thea succeeded, her family's reputation would benefit and perhaps the Houses of Kotas and Thanasi would become allies instead of rivals.
However, if she failed …
Not even wanting to consider that possibility, she listened while Mihail spoke to Dion, reassuring him much better than she could have done. The boy took his hand, standing a bit straighter as if he was trying to live up to his uncle's assessment of him.
Athanasia took his other hand, her gaze traveling to the group of people surrounding Vangelis. She wished that she could go to him, but she could at least be helpful here. She looked over at Mihail as he spoke to her again and she felt a bit of her terror receding. “I am trying,” she whispered. “I know your sister is experienced in healing and the gods have heard our prayers. It's just … after losing my father ...”
The princess took the hand he held out to her, grasping it tightly, caring nothing at this moment for formality or propriety. The three of them stood there in a little circle and she was about to suggest that they pray together when she heard the unmistakable sound of retching. Vangelis must be throwing up. If he had been poisoned, that was a good thing and would help to purge it from his system.
No long after that, she heard him take a deep breath, and suddenly she felt that she too, could breathe again. “You were right, my lord," she remarked to Mihail. "He is going to be all right, thanks to Lady Thea." She still couldn't see him, but there seemed to be less tension in the people gathered around him.
She exhaled in relief, yet only a heartbeat later, a loud boom echoed through the Dikastirio, followed by another and another. Athanasia's hands tightened around Mihail's and Dion's as her eyes spun toward the entrance. The heavy wooden doors seemed to shudder with each blow and she feared that soon they would give way and the invaders, whoever they were, would swarm in.
She watched the guards prepare to engage the attackers and heard Zanon issue orders for she and Mihail to take Dion to the kitchens. Yet then Evras arrived to collect her son and the princess nodded when she thanked them, her eyes riveted on the quaking doors. She had no intention of obeying her brother's command. Athanasia didn't want to be cooped up with a bunch of wailing women and crying children. She wanted to face the assailants herself and take part in the battle that was likely forthcoming. Her bow was at home, but there were knives on the table ...
Her eyes turned to Mihail and she squeezed his hand. “Don't try to drag me to the kitchens. I'm staying here to fight.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Lord Mihail had seen seen her look and he headed in her direction. The guards tried to block his way. Athanasia, concentrating on keeping Dion from looking over to where his uncle struggled to breathe, was about to tell them to let him in. But he said that she had sent for him, and when the guards glanced over at her, she nodded.
He immediately put a hand on Dion's shoulder to calm him. Their nephew was eleven and smart for his age. He had to be aware of what was going on. He didn't cry but his eyes were wide with fear. Mihail would be able to comfort him better than she could. He needed to be reminded of who he was and that he had to be strong. She could say those things to him herself, but they would mean more coming from a man he respected.
Mihail had more faith in Lady Thea than she did. His words were encouraging, though, and she smiled gratefully if a bit wanly. One eyebrow quirked upward when he revealed that if not for his sister, he wouldn't be here today. Athanasia wanted to ask him more about that, but now was not the time. “I hope you're right,” she replied, trying not to sound as scared as she was. Left unsaid was that if Thea succeeded, her family's reputation would benefit and perhaps the Houses of Kotas and Thanasi would become allies instead of rivals.
However, if she failed …
Not even wanting to consider that possibility, she listened while Mihail spoke to Dion, reassuring him much better than she could have done. The boy took his hand, standing a bit straighter as if he was trying to live up to his uncle's assessment of him.
Athanasia took his other hand, her gaze traveling to the group of people surrounding Vangelis. She wished that she could go to him, but she could at least be helpful here. She looked over at Mihail as he spoke to her again and she felt a bit of her terror receding. “I am trying,” she whispered. “I know your sister is experienced in healing and the gods have heard our prayers. It's just … after losing my father ...”
The princess took the hand he held out to her, grasping it tightly, caring nothing at this moment for formality or propriety. The three of them stood there in a little circle and she was about to suggest that they pray together when she heard the unmistakable sound of retching. Vangelis must be throwing up. If he had been poisoned, that was a good thing and would help to purge it from his system.
No long after that, she heard him take a deep breath, and suddenly she felt that she too, could breathe again. “You were right, my lord," she remarked to Mihail. "He is going to be all right, thanks to Lady Thea." She still couldn't see him, but there seemed to be less tension in the people gathered around him.
She exhaled in relief, yet only a heartbeat later, a loud boom echoed through the Dikastirio, followed by another and another. Athanasia's hands tightened around Mihail's and Dion's as her eyes spun toward the entrance. The heavy wooden doors seemed to shudder with each blow and she feared that soon they would give way and the invaders, whoever they were, would swarm in.
She watched the guards prepare to engage the attackers and heard Zanon issue orders for she and Mihail to take Dion to the kitchens. Yet then Evras arrived to collect her son and the princess nodded when she thanked them, her eyes riveted on the quaking doors. She had no intention of obeying her brother's command. Athanasia didn't want to be cooped up with a bunch of wailing women and crying children. She wanted to face the assailants herself and take part in the battle that was likely forthcoming. Her bow was at home, but there were knives on the table ...
Her eyes turned to Mihail and she squeezed his hand. “Don't try to drag me to the kitchens. I'm staying here to fight.”
Lord Mihail had seen seen her look and he headed in her direction. The guards tried to block his way. Athanasia, concentrating on keeping Dion from looking over to where his uncle struggled to breathe, was about to tell them to let him in. But he said that she had sent for him, and when the guards glanced over at her, she nodded.
He immediately put a hand on Dion's shoulder to calm him. Their nephew was eleven and smart for his age. He had to be aware of what was going on. He didn't cry but his eyes were wide with fear. Mihail would be able to comfort him better than she could. He needed to be reminded of who he was and that he had to be strong. She could say those things to him herself, but they would mean more coming from a man he respected.
Mihail had more faith in Lady Thea than she did. His words were encouraging, though, and she smiled gratefully if a bit wanly. One eyebrow quirked upward when he revealed that if not for his sister, he wouldn't be here today. Athanasia wanted to ask him more about that, but now was not the time. “I hope you're right,” she replied, trying not to sound as scared as she was. Left unsaid was that if Thea succeeded, her family's reputation would benefit and perhaps the Houses of Kotas and Thanasi would become allies instead of rivals.
However, if she failed …
Not even wanting to consider that possibility, she listened while Mihail spoke to Dion, reassuring him much better than she could have done. The boy took his hand, standing a bit straighter as if he was trying to live up to his uncle's assessment of him.
Athanasia took his other hand, her gaze traveling to the group of people surrounding Vangelis. She wished that she could go to him, but she could at least be helpful here. She looked over at Mihail as he spoke to her again and she felt a bit of her terror receding. “I am trying,” she whispered. “I know your sister is experienced in healing and the gods have heard our prayers. It's just … after losing my father ...”
The princess took the hand he held out to her, grasping it tightly, caring nothing at this moment for formality or propriety. The three of them stood there in a little circle and she was about to suggest that they pray together when she heard the unmistakable sound of retching. Vangelis must be throwing up. If he had been poisoned, that was a good thing and would help to purge it from his system.
No long after that, she heard him take a deep breath, and suddenly she felt that she too, could breathe again. “You were right, my lord," she remarked to Mihail. "He is going to be all right, thanks to Lady Thea." She still couldn't see him, but there seemed to be less tension in the people gathered around him.
She exhaled in relief, yet only a heartbeat later, a loud boom echoed through the Dikastirio, followed by another and another. Athanasia's hands tightened around Mihail's and Dion's as her eyes spun toward the entrance. The heavy wooden doors seemed to shudder with each blow and she feared that soon they would give way and the invaders, whoever they were, would swarm in.
She watched the guards prepare to engage the attackers and heard Zanon issue orders for she and Mihail to take Dion to the kitchens. Yet then Evras arrived to collect her son and the princess nodded when she thanked them, her eyes riveted on the quaking doors. She had no intention of obeying her brother's command. Athanasia didn't want to be cooped up with a bunch of wailing women and crying children. She wanted to face the assailants herself and take part in the battle that was likely forthcoming. Her bow was at home, but there were knives on the table ...
Her eyes turned to Mihail and she squeezed his hand. “Don't try to drag me to the kitchens. I'm staying here to fight.”
Nethis sat next to her father at the great dinner table of the royal family, her eyes aimed at the tall, brooding King Vangelis figure as he made his way down to the dinner table. The eldest Thanasi focused on the King like an adder would its prey because the two have an unsettled affair that Nethis intended on satisfying. Nethis always had it out for the Kotas Family, because they have the very thing she wants for the good of her family – the crown and throne of Colchis. The marriage of Evras and Zanon was just a strategic plan by Nethis to entangle their families together, thus ensured an heir of to the throne. The declaration of Vangelis of Kotas as King of Colchis complicated the contingency plan. The new King can bare an heir to the throne, which would destroy Dion’s chance of becoming the next in line for the throne.
Nethis kept her gaze on Vangelis, though her eyes averted onto her side at the words of her father as he scolded Mihail. Nethis smirked lightly at the shrewd comments of her father because she too though Mihail was being foolish and child. Although, Nethis didn’t care for how her father decided to address Mihail, which drew unwanted attention. If he were so disappointed by how his family appeared it should have dawned on him that family matters should be kept behind closed doors. Nethis looked at her father as soon as she felt his eyes lock onto her, and with one gaze she could tell he blamed her for what he considers are failures in their family. Nethis didn’t smile, nor did she take the responsibility that he decided to place her. The Lady fixed her gaze with her father, her icy blue eyes staring back at Lord Dionysios. He may have struck fear in the hearts of many nobles in Colchis, but Nethis learned to hold her ground.
“It appears you are feeling like yourself again, father… very glad you have returned to us.” Nethis turned for a moment to grab a cup of wine to sip its contents before she addressed her father, “Mihail has been acting as a child for reasons we’ve decided to leave within the walls of our home.” Nethis spoke to her father calmly, “Do not look so dissatisfied father, our family’s reputation will change,” Nethis said as she eyed the elder man, “I believe today, should prove to everyone that we are of a reputable cause, despite our differences.” The Eldest sister said as she looked at her father, “The Gods will show us favor father, I hope the gods show fortune upon you.” The Lady of House Thanasi left her father with cold eyes before she turned her head to face the King as he gave his speech. Her eyes fell upon Zanon of Kotas, whom she shares an equal distaste for though the Prince was the reason why little Dion seats in place of the throne.
The King finished his speech and the food was introduced to the guests gathered in the Dikastirio. Servants lined the room to neat place food in front of the nobles gathered in honor of the newly crowned King. For now. Nethis showed familiarity as she leaned back to allow the servant to place her food in front of her, though her eyes flickered up to see a brown-skinned woman moving swiftly to the King’s side. Nethis followed the servant with her eyes slyly, before she diverted her attention to catch Zanon of Kotas eye the servant – Interesting. The elder Thanasi sibling eyed at the Prince shortly, before moving her gaze onto Evras, now she was wondering if there was anything between the servant and Zanon - though there could be several reasons for why his eyes were on the woman carrying the King's meal. Outwardly Nethis was calm and kept an elegant posture, though truthfully, she held her anticipation. Nethis identifies well with serpents, largely over their patience, determination, and precision, therefore she is capable of hiding her true emotions quite well. Nethis picked up her utensils and elegantly at around the entrée, before putting down her fork to take a sip of wine. Time had gone by and all one could hear were the clattering utensils, and low conversations until the King brought attention unto himself.
Nethis looked up to see that the King pushed himself from the table and it was obvious that he was struggling with his widened eyes. Nethis lifted her chin to observe that the King had fallen to his knees and everything went into chaos, the Queen Dowager made a fearful scream as she reached for her son – demanding for water. Nethis only picked up her wine as she took a sip of her wine as she continued to watch people react to the King’s struggle. What was happening to Vangelis caused everyone to stir into a panic, though Nethis has never held much love for the House of Kotas. It should be expected of the Thanasi family to remain neutral. Although, it wasn’t until Nethis heard her sister’s name did she lock her eyes with Thea, and only slightly did Nethis tilt her head in observance of Thea’s behavior. Interesting… I didn’t know we cared so much for Kotas, so why would Zanon name Thea to assist the King and not the Royal Physician? Nethis caught Thea’s eye once more as she made her way towards the King. Very interesting, Kotas asking the help of alleged Witches - quite ironic. Nethis followed Thea with her eyes as she was curious to see what came next.
Lady Nethis remained where she was at the side of her father as the commotion continued. Nethis could hear Thea shouting out commands for people to do and it would have been amusing to see her sister playing Physician for the King if it meant stopping the poison from running its course. Regardless of how the King is killed, Thea has the power to undo what was done or to allow the poison to finish. Although, now that Thea has involved herself it would also mean danger if she were to fail. Damn you, Thea…Nethis turned at her father's words before a small smirk broke out as she spoke with an equally dry tone, “I believe Thea has already decided she was going to help our dying King.” Nethis said as she watched the commotion going at the head of the table.
The loud banging from the doors of the Dikastirio caused everyone to turn in its direction, and already the King’s guard was making their way towards the scene. Already, the King was nearing his deathbed and it seemed the House of Kotas was under siege – chaos that only made Nethis smile. Quickly, Nethis stood up as her father grabbed the young prince Dion, and she shot a look towards Mihail hoping he too saw the need for urgency. “All of this chaos, I wonder who the cause of it was all?” Nethis said lowly towards her father.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Nethis sat next to her father at the great dinner table of the royal family, her eyes aimed at the tall, brooding King Vangelis figure as he made his way down to the dinner table. The eldest Thanasi focused on the King like an adder would its prey because the two have an unsettled affair that Nethis intended on satisfying. Nethis always had it out for the Kotas Family, because they have the very thing she wants for the good of her family – the crown and throne of Colchis. The marriage of Evras and Zanon was just a strategic plan by Nethis to entangle their families together, thus ensured an heir of to the throne. The declaration of Vangelis of Kotas as King of Colchis complicated the contingency plan. The new King can bare an heir to the throne, which would destroy Dion’s chance of becoming the next in line for the throne.
Nethis kept her gaze on Vangelis, though her eyes averted onto her side at the words of her father as he scolded Mihail. Nethis smirked lightly at the shrewd comments of her father because she too though Mihail was being foolish and child. Although, Nethis didn’t care for how her father decided to address Mihail, which drew unwanted attention. If he were so disappointed by how his family appeared it should have dawned on him that family matters should be kept behind closed doors. Nethis looked at her father as soon as she felt his eyes lock onto her, and with one gaze she could tell he blamed her for what he considers are failures in their family. Nethis didn’t smile, nor did she take the responsibility that he decided to place her. The Lady fixed her gaze with her father, her icy blue eyes staring back at Lord Dionysios. He may have struck fear in the hearts of many nobles in Colchis, but Nethis learned to hold her ground.
“It appears you are feeling like yourself again, father… very glad you have returned to us.” Nethis turned for a moment to grab a cup of wine to sip its contents before she addressed her father, “Mihail has been acting as a child for reasons we’ve decided to leave within the walls of our home.” Nethis spoke to her father calmly, “Do not look so dissatisfied father, our family’s reputation will change,” Nethis said as she eyed the elder man, “I believe today, should prove to everyone that we are of a reputable cause, despite our differences.” The Eldest sister said as she looked at her father, “The Gods will show us favor father, I hope the gods show fortune upon you.” The Lady of House Thanasi left her father with cold eyes before she turned her head to face the King as he gave his speech. Her eyes fell upon Zanon of Kotas, whom she shares an equal distaste for though the Prince was the reason why little Dion seats in place of the throne.
The King finished his speech and the food was introduced to the guests gathered in the Dikastirio. Servants lined the room to neat place food in front of the nobles gathered in honor of the newly crowned King. For now. Nethis showed familiarity as she leaned back to allow the servant to place her food in front of her, though her eyes flickered up to see a brown-skinned woman moving swiftly to the King’s side. Nethis followed the servant with her eyes slyly, before she diverted her attention to catch Zanon of Kotas eye the servant – Interesting. The elder Thanasi sibling eyed at the Prince shortly, before moving her gaze onto Evras, now she was wondering if there was anything between the servant and Zanon - though there could be several reasons for why his eyes were on the woman carrying the King's meal. Outwardly Nethis was calm and kept an elegant posture, though truthfully, she held her anticipation. Nethis identifies well with serpents, largely over their patience, determination, and precision, therefore she is capable of hiding her true emotions quite well. Nethis picked up her utensils and elegantly at around the entrée, before putting down her fork to take a sip of wine. Time had gone by and all one could hear were the clattering utensils, and low conversations until the King brought attention unto himself.
Nethis looked up to see that the King pushed himself from the table and it was obvious that he was struggling with his widened eyes. Nethis lifted her chin to observe that the King had fallen to his knees and everything went into chaos, the Queen Dowager made a fearful scream as she reached for her son – demanding for water. Nethis only picked up her wine as she took a sip of her wine as she continued to watch people react to the King’s struggle. What was happening to Vangelis caused everyone to stir into a panic, though Nethis has never held much love for the House of Kotas. It should be expected of the Thanasi family to remain neutral. Although, it wasn’t until Nethis heard her sister’s name did she lock her eyes with Thea, and only slightly did Nethis tilt her head in observance of Thea’s behavior. Interesting… I didn’t know we cared so much for Kotas, so why would Zanon name Thea to assist the King and not the Royal Physician? Nethis caught Thea’s eye once more as she made her way towards the King. Very interesting, Kotas asking the help of alleged Witches - quite ironic. Nethis followed Thea with her eyes as she was curious to see what came next.
Lady Nethis remained where she was at the side of her father as the commotion continued. Nethis could hear Thea shouting out commands for people to do and it would have been amusing to see her sister playing Physician for the King if it meant stopping the poison from running its course. Regardless of how the King is killed, Thea has the power to undo what was done or to allow the poison to finish. Although, now that Thea has involved herself it would also mean danger if she were to fail. Damn you, Thea…Nethis turned at her father's words before a small smirk broke out as she spoke with an equally dry tone, “I believe Thea has already decided she was going to help our dying King.” Nethis said as she watched the commotion going at the head of the table.
The loud banging from the doors of the Dikastirio caused everyone to turn in its direction, and already the King’s guard was making their way towards the scene. Already, the King was nearing his deathbed and it seemed the House of Kotas was under siege – chaos that only made Nethis smile. Quickly, Nethis stood up as her father grabbed the young prince Dion, and she shot a look towards Mihail hoping he too saw the need for urgency. “All of this chaos, I wonder who the cause of it was all?” Nethis said lowly towards her father.
Nethis sat next to her father at the great dinner table of the royal family, her eyes aimed at the tall, brooding King Vangelis figure as he made his way down to the dinner table. The eldest Thanasi focused on the King like an adder would its prey because the two have an unsettled affair that Nethis intended on satisfying. Nethis always had it out for the Kotas Family, because they have the very thing she wants for the good of her family – the crown and throne of Colchis. The marriage of Evras and Zanon was just a strategic plan by Nethis to entangle their families together, thus ensured an heir of to the throne. The declaration of Vangelis of Kotas as King of Colchis complicated the contingency plan. The new King can bare an heir to the throne, which would destroy Dion’s chance of becoming the next in line for the throne.
Nethis kept her gaze on Vangelis, though her eyes averted onto her side at the words of her father as he scolded Mihail. Nethis smirked lightly at the shrewd comments of her father because she too though Mihail was being foolish and child. Although, Nethis didn’t care for how her father decided to address Mihail, which drew unwanted attention. If he were so disappointed by how his family appeared it should have dawned on him that family matters should be kept behind closed doors. Nethis looked at her father as soon as she felt his eyes lock onto her, and with one gaze she could tell he blamed her for what he considers are failures in their family. Nethis didn’t smile, nor did she take the responsibility that he decided to place her. The Lady fixed her gaze with her father, her icy blue eyes staring back at Lord Dionysios. He may have struck fear in the hearts of many nobles in Colchis, but Nethis learned to hold her ground.
“It appears you are feeling like yourself again, father… very glad you have returned to us.” Nethis turned for a moment to grab a cup of wine to sip its contents before she addressed her father, “Mihail has been acting as a child for reasons we’ve decided to leave within the walls of our home.” Nethis spoke to her father calmly, “Do not look so dissatisfied father, our family’s reputation will change,” Nethis said as she eyed the elder man, “I believe today, should prove to everyone that we are of a reputable cause, despite our differences.” The Eldest sister said as she looked at her father, “The Gods will show us favor father, I hope the gods show fortune upon you.” The Lady of House Thanasi left her father with cold eyes before she turned her head to face the King as he gave his speech. Her eyes fell upon Zanon of Kotas, whom she shares an equal distaste for though the Prince was the reason why little Dion seats in place of the throne.
The King finished his speech and the food was introduced to the guests gathered in the Dikastirio. Servants lined the room to neat place food in front of the nobles gathered in honor of the newly crowned King. For now. Nethis showed familiarity as she leaned back to allow the servant to place her food in front of her, though her eyes flickered up to see a brown-skinned woman moving swiftly to the King’s side. Nethis followed the servant with her eyes slyly, before she diverted her attention to catch Zanon of Kotas eye the servant – Interesting. The elder Thanasi sibling eyed at the Prince shortly, before moving her gaze onto Evras, now she was wondering if there was anything between the servant and Zanon - though there could be several reasons for why his eyes were on the woman carrying the King's meal. Outwardly Nethis was calm and kept an elegant posture, though truthfully, she held her anticipation. Nethis identifies well with serpents, largely over their patience, determination, and precision, therefore she is capable of hiding her true emotions quite well. Nethis picked up her utensils and elegantly at around the entrée, before putting down her fork to take a sip of wine. Time had gone by and all one could hear were the clattering utensils, and low conversations until the King brought attention unto himself.
Nethis looked up to see that the King pushed himself from the table and it was obvious that he was struggling with his widened eyes. Nethis lifted her chin to observe that the King had fallen to his knees and everything went into chaos, the Queen Dowager made a fearful scream as she reached for her son – demanding for water. Nethis only picked up her wine as she took a sip of her wine as she continued to watch people react to the King’s struggle. What was happening to Vangelis caused everyone to stir into a panic, though Nethis has never held much love for the House of Kotas. It should be expected of the Thanasi family to remain neutral. Although, it wasn’t until Nethis heard her sister’s name did she lock her eyes with Thea, and only slightly did Nethis tilt her head in observance of Thea’s behavior. Interesting… I didn’t know we cared so much for Kotas, so why would Zanon name Thea to assist the King and not the Royal Physician? Nethis caught Thea’s eye once more as she made her way towards the King. Very interesting, Kotas asking the help of alleged Witches - quite ironic. Nethis followed Thea with her eyes as she was curious to see what came next.
Lady Nethis remained where she was at the side of her father as the commotion continued. Nethis could hear Thea shouting out commands for people to do and it would have been amusing to see her sister playing Physician for the King if it meant stopping the poison from running its course. Regardless of how the King is killed, Thea has the power to undo what was done or to allow the poison to finish. Although, now that Thea has involved herself it would also mean danger if she were to fail. Damn you, Thea…Nethis turned at her father's words before a small smirk broke out as she spoke with an equally dry tone, “I believe Thea has already decided she was going to help our dying King.” Nethis said as she watched the commotion going at the head of the table.
The loud banging from the doors of the Dikastirio caused everyone to turn in its direction, and already the King’s guard was making their way towards the scene. Already, the King was nearing his deathbed and it seemed the House of Kotas was under siege – chaos that only made Nethis smile. Quickly, Nethis stood up as her father grabbed the young prince Dion, and she shot a look towards Mihail hoping he too saw the need for urgency. “All of this chaos, I wonder who the cause of it was all?” Nethis said lowly towards her father.
Handing off Ariah to the guards, he’d honestly expected more people to look or at least be shocked or maybe outraged by the revelation that they had the king’s would-be-killer in their midst. Perhaps the king’s health was of more concern, especially the vomit that made Stephanos step back. Chaos was the constant companion to every single person inside this chamber. Wherever one looked, there was fear, or concern, or confusion - save on a few faces.
Looking toward the table behind him, he noted an old man looking particularly unruffled, as well as Lady Nethis, who also didn’t show enough concern. They reminded him as strongly of his uncle as anyone could do. It was his past affiliation with Lady Nethis that made him reject the idea that she’d had any hand in this. He’d be tainted by association if she did and that was such an uncomfortable thought, that he shoved it out of his mind. Her father’s expression was harder to dismiss.
Before he had enough time to truly follow that rabbit trail, a loud boom echoed through the hall. His head snapped toward the doors, seeking the offender making the sound, but the doors held. Violent flashes of fire and screams echoed in his memories. He could practically smell smoke as the day the circus burned while his father’s head glared down at his kingdom played out in horrible clarity. Real shrieks ricocheted around the room and he suddenly needed Pia within his reach.
His pupils were huge, nearly making his blue eyes black with how wide they’d grown. This was the curse. There was no one who could tell him differently now. He was cursed, the Creed were in Colchis, and he was the cause. Not only had he and Olympia not escaped them, but he’d doomed anyone he came in contact with in the process.
“Pia!” he shouted across the room as another boom resounded. Confusion reigned. Someone was shouting for people to get to the kitchens, some people hid under tables, people surged to find their family or friends. From out of the crowd, his wife streaked toward him, practically leaping over the table to get to him. He reached out and caught her, holding her to him as he moved them sideways, away from Vangelis’s vomit that still coated the floor, and toward the end of the tables.
This put them near Princess Evras, who was murmuring to Prince Dion and it made him suddenly think of Tisiphone. If this was happening here, was his daughter safe in the Kotas Manor? Or had that already been targeted and torched? He went cold and if he let that fear take over, it’d immobilize him. Shutting off that line thought immediately, he gripped Pia hard, feeling her warmth and comforted a fraction that she was alive, breathing, and his grasp.
“Stay with me,” he bumped into someone and glanced over to find himself right next to Lord Thanasi, whose name still escaped him. “Where’s your mother?” He asked Pia, stepping just a fraction away from Lord Thanasi but finding that servants were blocking them from getting much further as they bunched up in a lumped group. Stephanos found his mother-in-law easily enough but he found her glaring at him. Despite what was happening, he rolled his eyes. Even in this moment, with this happening, Evelli couldn’t manage to be anything but disapproving.
It was Maleos calling out for people to stay steady, specifically the soldiers, that jerked Stephanos out of his momentary irritation with his mother in law. With one arm looped protectively around Pia, he then moved her behind him, so that her back would be to the wall. On one side, she was protected by the bulk of the servants, while in front she had him, and on her other side was the Thanasi family. She was as safe as he could feasibly make her in this moment. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he said, “I love you. I wish I could change-” but he didn’t get to finish that apology. Another crash resounded through the room, jerking his attention away from her.
Stephanos looked sharply at Nethis, who by this time had moved nearer to her father. Her voice was low and though he couldn’t quite catch exactly what she was saying to the Elder Thanasi, he understood the tone to be dry and, it seemed to him, not all that curious. Again, another boom took his attention away and he stared at the doors that looked about to leap off their own hinges.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Handing off Ariah to the guards, he’d honestly expected more people to look or at least be shocked or maybe outraged by the revelation that they had the king’s would-be-killer in their midst. Perhaps the king’s health was of more concern, especially the vomit that made Stephanos step back. Chaos was the constant companion to every single person inside this chamber. Wherever one looked, there was fear, or concern, or confusion - save on a few faces.
Looking toward the table behind him, he noted an old man looking particularly unruffled, as well as Lady Nethis, who also didn’t show enough concern. They reminded him as strongly of his uncle as anyone could do. It was his past affiliation with Lady Nethis that made him reject the idea that she’d had any hand in this. He’d be tainted by association if she did and that was such an uncomfortable thought, that he shoved it out of his mind. Her father’s expression was harder to dismiss.
Before he had enough time to truly follow that rabbit trail, a loud boom echoed through the hall. His head snapped toward the doors, seeking the offender making the sound, but the doors held. Violent flashes of fire and screams echoed in his memories. He could practically smell smoke as the day the circus burned while his father’s head glared down at his kingdom played out in horrible clarity. Real shrieks ricocheted around the room and he suddenly needed Pia within his reach.
His pupils were huge, nearly making his blue eyes black with how wide they’d grown. This was the curse. There was no one who could tell him differently now. He was cursed, the Creed were in Colchis, and he was the cause. Not only had he and Olympia not escaped them, but he’d doomed anyone he came in contact with in the process.
“Pia!” he shouted across the room as another boom resounded. Confusion reigned. Someone was shouting for people to get to the kitchens, some people hid under tables, people surged to find their family or friends. From out of the crowd, his wife streaked toward him, practically leaping over the table to get to him. He reached out and caught her, holding her to him as he moved them sideways, away from Vangelis’s vomit that still coated the floor, and toward the end of the tables.
This put them near Princess Evras, who was murmuring to Prince Dion and it made him suddenly think of Tisiphone. If this was happening here, was his daughter safe in the Kotas Manor? Or had that already been targeted and torched? He went cold and if he let that fear take over, it’d immobilize him. Shutting off that line thought immediately, he gripped Pia hard, feeling her warmth and comforted a fraction that she was alive, breathing, and his grasp.
“Stay with me,” he bumped into someone and glanced over to find himself right next to Lord Thanasi, whose name still escaped him. “Where’s your mother?” He asked Pia, stepping just a fraction away from Lord Thanasi but finding that servants were blocking them from getting much further as they bunched up in a lumped group. Stephanos found his mother-in-law easily enough but he found her glaring at him. Despite what was happening, he rolled his eyes. Even in this moment, with this happening, Evelli couldn’t manage to be anything but disapproving.
It was Maleos calling out for people to stay steady, specifically the soldiers, that jerked Stephanos out of his momentary irritation with his mother in law. With one arm looped protectively around Pia, he then moved her behind him, so that her back would be to the wall. On one side, she was protected by the bulk of the servants, while in front she had him, and on her other side was the Thanasi family. She was as safe as he could feasibly make her in this moment. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he said, “I love you. I wish I could change-” but he didn’t get to finish that apology. Another crash resounded through the room, jerking his attention away from her.
Stephanos looked sharply at Nethis, who by this time had moved nearer to her father. Her voice was low and though he couldn’t quite catch exactly what she was saying to the Elder Thanasi, he understood the tone to be dry and, it seemed to him, not all that curious. Again, another boom took his attention away and he stared at the doors that looked about to leap off their own hinges.
Handing off Ariah to the guards, he’d honestly expected more people to look or at least be shocked or maybe outraged by the revelation that they had the king’s would-be-killer in their midst. Perhaps the king’s health was of more concern, especially the vomit that made Stephanos step back. Chaos was the constant companion to every single person inside this chamber. Wherever one looked, there was fear, or concern, or confusion - save on a few faces.
Looking toward the table behind him, he noted an old man looking particularly unruffled, as well as Lady Nethis, who also didn’t show enough concern. They reminded him as strongly of his uncle as anyone could do. It was his past affiliation with Lady Nethis that made him reject the idea that she’d had any hand in this. He’d be tainted by association if she did and that was such an uncomfortable thought, that he shoved it out of his mind. Her father’s expression was harder to dismiss.
Before he had enough time to truly follow that rabbit trail, a loud boom echoed through the hall. His head snapped toward the doors, seeking the offender making the sound, but the doors held. Violent flashes of fire and screams echoed in his memories. He could practically smell smoke as the day the circus burned while his father’s head glared down at his kingdom played out in horrible clarity. Real shrieks ricocheted around the room and he suddenly needed Pia within his reach.
His pupils were huge, nearly making his blue eyes black with how wide they’d grown. This was the curse. There was no one who could tell him differently now. He was cursed, the Creed were in Colchis, and he was the cause. Not only had he and Olympia not escaped them, but he’d doomed anyone he came in contact with in the process.
“Pia!” he shouted across the room as another boom resounded. Confusion reigned. Someone was shouting for people to get to the kitchens, some people hid under tables, people surged to find their family or friends. From out of the crowd, his wife streaked toward him, practically leaping over the table to get to him. He reached out and caught her, holding her to him as he moved them sideways, away from Vangelis’s vomit that still coated the floor, and toward the end of the tables.
This put them near Princess Evras, who was murmuring to Prince Dion and it made him suddenly think of Tisiphone. If this was happening here, was his daughter safe in the Kotas Manor? Or had that already been targeted and torched? He went cold and if he let that fear take over, it’d immobilize him. Shutting off that line thought immediately, he gripped Pia hard, feeling her warmth and comforted a fraction that she was alive, breathing, and his grasp.
“Stay with me,” he bumped into someone and glanced over to find himself right next to Lord Thanasi, whose name still escaped him. “Where’s your mother?” He asked Pia, stepping just a fraction away from Lord Thanasi but finding that servants were blocking them from getting much further as they bunched up in a lumped group. Stephanos found his mother-in-law easily enough but he found her glaring at him. Despite what was happening, he rolled his eyes. Even in this moment, with this happening, Evelli couldn’t manage to be anything but disapproving.
It was Maleos calling out for people to stay steady, specifically the soldiers, that jerked Stephanos out of his momentary irritation with his mother in law. With one arm looped protectively around Pia, he then moved her behind him, so that her back would be to the wall. On one side, she was protected by the bulk of the servants, while in front she had him, and on her other side was the Thanasi family. She was as safe as he could feasibly make her in this moment. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he said, “I love you. I wish I could change-” but he didn’t get to finish that apology. Another crash resounded through the room, jerking his attention away from her.
Stephanos looked sharply at Nethis, who by this time had moved nearer to her father. Her voice was low and though he couldn’t quite catch exactly what she was saying to the Elder Thanasi, he understood the tone to be dry and, it seemed to him, not all that curious. Again, another boom took his attention away and he stared at the doors that looked about to leap off their own hinges.
Roxana was upset she would have to miss the first part of the feats for an errand. Still, it was part of her job and she was not a socialite, she would remind herself. Tim and Sil would be there and she very much wanted them both to see how well she was doing. there might have been a slightly selfish reason for that, Tim should see how capable she was and maybe regret not giving her a place among the family. Was that petty? Maybe, but she was seventeen and now had a chip on her shoulder, living at the palace and all.
Still, she was excited to see them and wanted to soak up all of the royal elbow rubbing she could watch. So, she rushed about her errands, some tonics for Evras who had been stressed and poorly of late. There was no bitterness in helping the kind princess to feel better but she was sure in a hurry to get it done to be where everyone else was.
Tonic in hand, she walked quickly to the meeting hall in the manor and slipped inside, closing the door behind her and hoping no one would notice her entrance. No one did, for they were all gathered around someone. Something had happened and Roxana looked around, concerned. She spotted Princess Evras, safe and sound and blew out a little breath of relief. Otherwise, there were so many people in the way that she could hardly see what was happened.
*"Everyone get back now! Guards, no one is to leave this chamber, bring me everyone in the kitchens and make sure no one slips away on pain of death!”*
Roxana jumped at the authoritative voice and moved away from door, making sure they all understood that she was not leaving. Holding the vial of Evras’ tonic close to her, it never even occurred to her that it might be seen as suspicious under the circumstances. Making her way closer to Evras to see what was going on and to check on her, she realized that the king was actually on the ground. Her wide eyes stared and she stood practically frozen. When Evras moved away, Roxana found that she was unable to follow her with the people moving around so quickly and crowding. Thankfully, Evras returned soon but looked like she had played around in the fire soot.
*"Oh dear. Such a shame. Whatever shall we do..."*
The dry delivery made Roxana’s mouth grow even wider open. How could he speak so carelessly! She instinctively looked for her family and saw Silanos at one of the tables. Her face was a mask of fright and concern as she regarded her cousin.
She yelped when the enormous booming sound hit her chest and body like it was a gong. Catching her breath with a hand on her chest, she turned toward where it must have come from, the door. It sounded again and Roxana began to shake in fear, still standing far too close to the door and backing up little by little as it shuddered, v=creaked, and threatened to give way. Again after the king had miraculously given orders. Roxana’s hand went to her mouth and she felt tears sting her eyes. She looked around for her family again, for safety and found that Silanos was no longer in his seat. That made her nearly panic. There were too many people trying to get away from the door and too many soldiers trying to get to it to allow Roxana through. She pinned herself against the wall, trying to inch her way toward the kitchens.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Roxana was upset she would have to miss the first part of the feats for an errand. Still, it was part of her job and she was not a socialite, she would remind herself. Tim and Sil would be there and she very much wanted them both to see how well she was doing. there might have been a slightly selfish reason for that, Tim should see how capable she was and maybe regret not giving her a place among the family. Was that petty? Maybe, but she was seventeen and now had a chip on her shoulder, living at the palace and all.
Still, she was excited to see them and wanted to soak up all of the royal elbow rubbing she could watch. So, she rushed about her errands, some tonics for Evras who had been stressed and poorly of late. There was no bitterness in helping the kind princess to feel better but she was sure in a hurry to get it done to be where everyone else was.
Tonic in hand, she walked quickly to the meeting hall in the manor and slipped inside, closing the door behind her and hoping no one would notice her entrance. No one did, for they were all gathered around someone. Something had happened and Roxana looked around, concerned. She spotted Princess Evras, safe and sound and blew out a little breath of relief. Otherwise, there were so many people in the way that she could hardly see what was happened.
*"Everyone get back now! Guards, no one is to leave this chamber, bring me everyone in the kitchens and make sure no one slips away on pain of death!”*
Roxana jumped at the authoritative voice and moved away from door, making sure they all understood that she was not leaving. Holding the vial of Evras’ tonic close to her, it never even occurred to her that it might be seen as suspicious under the circumstances. Making her way closer to Evras to see what was going on and to check on her, she realized that the king was actually on the ground. Her wide eyes stared and she stood practically frozen. When Evras moved away, Roxana found that she was unable to follow her with the people moving around so quickly and crowding. Thankfully, Evras returned soon but looked like she had played around in the fire soot.
*"Oh dear. Such a shame. Whatever shall we do..."*
The dry delivery made Roxana’s mouth grow even wider open. How could he speak so carelessly! She instinctively looked for her family and saw Silanos at one of the tables. Her face was a mask of fright and concern as she regarded her cousin.
She yelped when the enormous booming sound hit her chest and body like it was a gong. Catching her breath with a hand on her chest, she turned toward where it must have come from, the door. It sounded again and Roxana began to shake in fear, still standing far too close to the door and backing up little by little as it shuddered, v=creaked, and threatened to give way. Again after the king had miraculously given orders. Roxana’s hand went to her mouth and she felt tears sting her eyes. She looked around for her family again, for safety and found that Silanos was no longer in his seat. That made her nearly panic. There were too many people trying to get away from the door and too many soldiers trying to get to it to allow Roxana through. She pinned herself against the wall, trying to inch her way toward the kitchens.
Roxana was upset she would have to miss the first part of the feats for an errand. Still, it was part of her job and she was not a socialite, she would remind herself. Tim and Sil would be there and she very much wanted them both to see how well she was doing. there might have been a slightly selfish reason for that, Tim should see how capable she was and maybe regret not giving her a place among the family. Was that petty? Maybe, but she was seventeen and now had a chip on her shoulder, living at the palace and all.
Still, she was excited to see them and wanted to soak up all of the royal elbow rubbing she could watch. So, she rushed about her errands, some tonics for Evras who had been stressed and poorly of late. There was no bitterness in helping the kind princess to feel better but she was sure in a hurry to get it done to be where everyone else was.
Tonic in hand, she walked quickly to the meeting hall in the manor and slipped inside, closing the door behind her and hoping no one would notice her entrance. No one did, for they were all gathered around someone. Something had happened and Roxana looked around, concerned. She spotted Princess Evras, safe and sound and blew out a little breath of relief. Otherwise, there were so many people in the way that she could hardly see what was happened.
*"Everyone get back now! Guards, no one is to leave this chamber, bring me everyone in the kitchens and make sure no one slips away on pain of death!”*
Roxana jumped at the authoritative voice and moved away from door, making sure they all understood that she was not leaving. Holding the vial of Evras’ tonic close to her, it never even occurred to her that it might be seen as suspicious under the circumstances. Making her way closer to Evras to see what was going on and to check on her, she realized that the king was actually on the ground. Her wide eyes stared and she stood practically frozen. When Evras moved away, Roxana found that she was unable to follow her with the people moving around so quickly and crowding. Thankfully, Evras returned soon but looked like she had played around in the fire soot.
*"Oh dear. Such a shame. Whatever shall we do..."*
The dry delivery made Roxana’s mouth grow even wider open. How could he speak so carelessly! She instinctively looked for her family and saw Silanos at one of the tables. Her face was a mask of fright and concern as she regarded her cousin.
She yelped when the enormous booming sound hit her chest and body like it was a gong. Catching her breath with a hand on her chest, she turned toward where it must have come from, the door. It sounded again and Roxana began to shake in fear, still standing far too close to the door and backing up little by little as it shuddered, v=creaked, and threatened to give way. Again after the king had miraculously given orders. Roxana’s hand went to her mouth and she felt tears sting her eyes. She looked around for her family again, for safety and found that Silanos was no longer in his seat. That made her nearly panic. There were too many people trying to get away from the door and too many soldiers trying to get to it to allow Roxana through. She pinned herself against the wall, trying to inch her way toward the kitchens.
Timaeus couldn’t believe his luck when the girl agreed to enjoy the meal with him. After all, who would have thought… A Valaoritis baron managing to capture the attention of a Leventi. One of the most sought after women in the whole realm, especially as her older sisters were married off one by one, wanting to spend time with him. A Baron of Stone with the prize gem of Taengea. Oh, gods, what good had he done to deserve this?
An almost childlike grin crossed his face as the girl took his arm and he led them to a spot at the lower tables. He just couldn’t believe that this was happening. It seemed to be almost like some sort of wonderful dream, only made better by the fact that he had managed to capture the attention of one of the blonde daughters — He had always had a thing for those with lighter hair. That only made this dream-come-true even better. But as Timaeus took his seat across from her, he honestly could not keep his eyes off of the girl before him. Once she told him her name the baron parroted it back to her with that cheeky boyish grin splattered across his face, “ Nana, what a lovely name.” At that moment he was so dumbstruck that if he was asked what the most beautiful word he had ever heard was, he would have said the blonde’s name.
But luckily, no one did as the dull roar of chatter died to a quiet lull, Timaeus pulled his eyes from the jewel before him and tried to focus on the King addressing them for the first time. Even though the Kotas’s voice boomed through the halls, the Baron found it difficult to keep his eyes trained towards the front of the room. He would manage the task for a moment, but then a slight movement from the girl would shatter what little concentration he had. Tim couldn’t help turning his head whenever caught sight of the slightest glitter from her shining hair or heard the lightest ruffling noise from the endless piles of lavender fabric. Nana of Leventi was just far too alluring for his eyes to resist and whenever the two of them would catch each other’s eyes, he couldn’t help returning the grin that appeared on the girl’s face. It was subtle for him, the slight uptick of a smile that would remain a moment longer after he ducked his head to keep it from growing. This was a somber event after all, no matter how joyous he might feel at this point, sitting across from of the most beautiful ladies he had ever seen.
For a split second though, as he ducked his head for the umpteenth time, he wondered how on earth the two of them managed to move so quickly? Why were they already so eager to be in each other’s presence that the two of them were willing to flounce the social rules and the expectations to enjoy each other’s company for the evening. Granted, he knew that he had nothing to lose. Unmarried young men like him were expected to be hot-blooded wild things, chasing after anything that caught their eyes. She was supposed to guard herself against being seen with men like him, lest her reputation suffer. His status as a Baron and trusted friend of the new crown prince surely protected her somewhat — especially if he could manage to control himself and not let himself be so visibly doe-eyed at the girl, but still… he couldn’t let that nagging feeling go that they weren’t supposed to be doing this. That she shouldn’t be sitting alone with a Baron like him. Hades, this would barely be acceptable if he was one of the Prince’s brothers!
However, as perplexing as this was to him and how much Nana’s pretty face distracted him, the young man was snapped back to reality when the Crown Prince gave a flurry of announcements. Tim’s hand clenched his goblet of wine tighter when the King declared that the Thanasis was innocent of any wrongdoing. A scowl was instantly etched on his face as he muttered under his breath, “ Seven Hades, they are.” His voice was so quiet that perhaps the girl across from him didn’t even notice and no one certainly knew when he ducked his head so no one could see his displeasure at the news. Timaeus had been convinced that they were to blame when that ship turned up the shores of Nethisa. It seemed obvious that the eldest of their coven had used her unnatural powers granted to her by some sort of monstrous demon to bring about the end of their king. This accusation wasn’t an outlandish one to make either, especially as everyone in Colchis knew that the whole lot of them were evil, but everyone was too scared to say so. Even Timaeus no longer had the childish nerve he once had too openly profess his unwavering belief that Nethis was a witch to her face. Even now with the news that the efforts of Tim and Zanon to protect the throne from the Thanasi clutch following the discovery had been for nothing — he couldn’t do more than shoot a glare at the head of the snake’s coven. Not unless he wanted to cause a scene in front of the whole court. However… if the Baron could catch her alone… he may not hold back with the accusations as past traumas that the snake woman had put him through had long ago clouded over his judgment.
It was a good thing he kept his mouth shut though as the next thing Vangelis did was subtly acknowledge the loyalty that Timaeus had shown during the time that the King had been out of the country. The Baron of Eubocris managed to swallow his anger and give the King a small nod in return. He tried to keep his face level, needing to be just as stone-like as the mountains that he called home, but as soon as his gaze shifted away, the Baron glanced over at his paramour for the evening. He didn’t hold back the slight grin on his face and subtle shift of his head towards his king. A wordless boast to the fact that he had been talking about Tim as if loyalty would somehow impress the girl who already couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of him.
However, that disappeared the moment that Vangelis spoke of weeding out those who were disloyal to the throne.
All the color drained from the Baron’s face as his eyes instinctively shifted around, looking for his pathetic excuse of a younger brother. How stupid could he have been to forget the boy in his drooling stupor over the pretty Leventi girl? He had left Sil alone at a Kotas event when he had almost been killed by the crown prince a few months prior.
Godsdammit, Timaeus chastised himself as a panic rose in his chest. He scanned the room for his brother while trying to not draw attention to himself, This is what I get for thinking with my —- Before he could even finish his scolding, he caught sight of the boy with his cousin Iolanthe and Tim could breathe a sigh of relief. As far as he knew, she had no idea what had happened and she would be the first to raise hell if Vangelis tried to exact the punishment for the Valaoritis’s crime that evening. Silanos would be safe with her, not to mention also safely kept in line. Their Peisistratos cousin was the only one who seemed to be capable of bringing the man-child to heel.
Luckily for them though, Vangelis seemed content with just letting the threat linger in the air and the minds of the Valaoritis boys. With the short speech swiftly concluding, as the new King had never been one for long speeches as he noted all those years ago on the bear hunt the two men had been on together, the joyous mood returned to the dining hall and the chatter resumed. Eager for the distraction, Timaeus instantly turned back to the Leventi before him with a slightly eager grin on his face. He was perfectly ready to cast all concerns of the evening aside and settle in for a good hearty meal to be shared in the stunning company that he had managed to find himself with that evening. Even with the warning from Vangelis, this night was quickly turning out to be perfect.
Just a little too perfect.
As the food was ushered in by servants and Timaeus was asking Nana about how she was faring so far on her trip to Colchis; a large commotion from the head table brought the perfect evening to a shattering halt. Instantly, Tim’s head turned to the source of the noise and found the King collapsed on the floor, seemingly grasping at his throat. The never-failing gossip circuits were quick to move through the crowd along with several gasps and cries of shock as the court of Colchis tried to comprehend was what happening before their very eyes.
Trapped in some sort of shocked daze, Timaeus pushed his chair back and stood up as many people moved to the ailing monarch. He didn’t move away from his seat though, as his mind just tried to comprehend what in the name of Hades was happening. If anyone were to notice him, they might have thought that his delayed reaction was little more than him being stunned at the notion of the ing being poisoned… but if anyone were to look a little closer, they might have seen the glazed look in his eyes. He was seeing Vangelis on the ground, being attended to by Nana’s elder sister and Thea of Thanasi, of all people, but he wasn’t truly seeing what was in front of him. Instead, without meaning too, all Timaeus was seeing was the haunting image of when it had been his brother collapsed on the floor. It was too similar for Timaeus’s brain to not slip back to that haunting night. Nico had been eating dinner and the next moment he was dead… just like what was happening to Vangelis. His mind was trapped in that dreadful night, mentally reliving the horror of seeing his elder brother slumped over… how Timaeus had pounded on Nico’s chest, begging his brother to breathe… failing to revive him…
His hands were shaking.
They were trembling so much as he grasped his goblet of wine that some of it managed to slosh out of the cup and spill over his hand. It was the coolness of the wasted drink that managed to pull him out of his twisted memories. Stunned, shocked, and completely disoriented, Timaeus had to glance about to gather his wits. His eyes finally settled on the girl across from him, a guest to the horror that was happening around them. Instead of moving to help the King, where quite frankly he would have been a waste anyway with how so many people surrounding the king, Timaeus moved away from his seat to round the table and comfort Nana. Now, whether or not she was upset was up in the air, but Timaeus needed the distraction and social customs said that she should panic at the sight of such traumatic events like this. He was a soldier, older brother, and Baron. Protecting was what he did best.
“ Nana,” He said as he moved to turn her away from the sight of a witch reviving their king, “ Are you alright? Where’s your family, you should —”
Timaeus was instantly cut off by a large booming noise coming from the front of the dikastiro. Some of the courtiers may have not known what it was, but the soldier within him knew instantly. The building was under siege and someone was trying to make their way in. At the second clattering of the doors, Timaeus instinctively grabbed a hold of the girl’s arm, forgoing the distant protectiveness that had come with being helpless and far too gone in his traumas to help the King. This was the militaristic side of the Baron that was coming out to play. His brain kicked into overdrive as he scanned the room, searching for anything that can be used to protect themselves as a cry went out through the room for the woman and children to get to the kitchens. His training told him that he should heed this order, see Nana safely to the kitchens and stay and fight with the other soldiers in the rooms.
Going off gut instinct alone, Timaeus began to gently pull the girl towards the direction of safety, protectively ducking an arm around her waist when she got the message and started to run with him. However, the booming was far too loud. It was far too close. They weren’t even halfway across the large chamber before Timaeus realized the inevitable truth. There wasn’t enough time. Whatever was behind that door wanted in and nothing short of the Gods themselves would be able to stop it.
Skidding to a halt near a column, Timaeus led the girl in a different direction, towards the shadows that the stone pillars provided. (It was quite fitting actually, given how a moment ago this had been their refuge from the crowd.) Once she was ducked behind one, momentarily out of sight from the weakening door, Tim looked at her imploringly, no idea that his actions thus far was probably solidifying her image of him of being a prince in shining armor, and asked once simple questions with heart-hammering implications.
“ Do you trust me?” His tone was slightly panicked and almost barkish, as this state of mind was no different than the one he had employed as a captain of his unit. It was a simple statement, but loud in the unspoken messages. Was their quiet flirting and rush to spend the night in each other’s company enough for her to trust him with her life? The sensible thing would be for her to say no, but then again when had either of them had done the sensible thing that evening?
“ Whatever happens, I will keep you safe.” Timaeus said further, not waiting for an answer as those doors came ever closer to breaking. It wasn’t a promise that he could guarantee to keep. He didn’t know what was outside and what it had in store for the courtiers within. No doubt it wasn’t pleasant and may even wish to bring harm to his peers that evening. Yet, there was no way that he was going to abandon Nana and leave her for whatever hounds were trying to barge their way in. That would be a cowardly thing to do and Timaeus was certainly not going to compromise his honor for his skin.
“ But I need you to trust me.” He implored, knowing full well that whatever happened, he needed her full confidence. If this was a fairytale, this would have easily been seen as heart-gushingly romantic, but this wasn’t that. Not when the booming of those doors was getting louder by the second. Despite the promises he was making, Timaeus knew that there was only so little he could do without the sword he was forced to leave behind before coming to this event. Most of the men were unarmed like him, leaving the whole lot of them defenseless as it sounded like an army was pounding at their door.
Only the gods could save them now.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Timaeus couldn’t believe his luck when the girl agreed to enjoy the meal with him. After all, who would have thought… A Valaoritis baron managing to capture the attention of a Leventi. One of the most sought after women in the whole realm, especially as her older sisters were married off one by one, wanting to spend time with him. A Baron of Stone with the prize gem of Taengea. Oh, gods, what good had he done to deserve this?
An almost childlike grin crossed his face as the girl took his arm and he led them to a spot at the lower tables. He just couldn’t believe that this was happening. It seemed to be almost like some sort of wonderful dream, only made better by the fact that he had managed to capture the attention of one of the blonde daughters — He had always had a thing for those with lighter hair. That only made this dream-come-true even better. But as Timaeus took his seat across from her, he honestly could not keep his eyes off of the girl before him. Once she told him her name the baron parroted it back to her with that cheeky boyish grin splattered across his face, “ Nana, what a lovely name.” At that moment he was so dumbstruck that if he was asked what the most beautiful word he had ever heard was, he would have said the blonde’s name.
But luckily, no one did as the dull roar of chatter died to a quiet lull, Timaeus pulled his eyes from the jewel before him and tried to focus on the King addressing them for the first time. Even though the Kotas’s voice boomed through the halls, the Baron found it difficult to keep his eyes trained towards the front of the room. He would manage the task for a moment, but then a slight movement from the girl would shatter what little concentration he had. Tim couldn’t help turning his head whenever caught sight of the slightest glitter from her shining hair or heard the lightest ruffling noise from the endless piles of lavender fabric. Nana of Leventi was just far too alluring for his eyes to resist and whenever the two of them would catch each other’s eyes, he couldn’t help returning the grin that appeared on the girl’s face. It was subtle for him, the slight uptick of a smile that would remain a moment longer after he ducked his head to keep it from growing. This was a somber event after all, no matter how joyous he might feel at this point, sitting across from of the most beautiful ladies he had ever seen.
For a split second though, as he ducked his head for the umpteenth time, he wondered how on earth the two of them managed to move so quickly? Why were they already so eager to be in each other’s presence that the two of them were willing to flounce the social rules and the expectations to enjoy each other’s company for the evening. Granted, he knew that he had nothing to lose. Unmarried young men like him were expected to be hot-blooded wild things, chasing after anything that caught their eyes. She was supposed to guard herself against being seen with men like him, lest her reputation suffer. His status as a Baron and trusted friend of the new crown prince surely protected her somewhat — especially if he could manage to control himself and not let himself be so visibly doe-eyed at the girl, but still… he couldn’t let that nagging feeling go that they weren’t supposed to be doing this. That she shouldn’t be sitting alone with a Baron like him. Hades, this would barely be acceptable if he was one of the Prince’s brothers!
However, as perplexing as this was to him and how much Nana’s pretty face distracted him, the young man was snapped back to reality when the Crown Prince gave a flurry of announcements. Tim’s hand clenched his goblet of wine tighter when the King declared that the Thanasis was innocent of any wrongdoing. A scowl was instantly etched on his face as he muttered under his breath, “ Seven Hades, they are.” His voice was so quiet that perhaps the girl across from him didn’t even notice and no one certainly knew when he ducked his head so no one could see his displeasure at the news. Timaeus had been convinced that they were to blame when that ship turned up the shores of Nethisa. It seemed obvious that the eldest of their coven had used her unnatural powers granted to her by some sort of monstrous demon to bring about the end of their king. This accusation wasn’t an outlandish one to make either, especially as everyone in Colchis knew that the whole lot of them were evil, but everyone was too scared to say so. Even Timaeus no longer had the childish nerve he once had too openly profess his unwavering belief that Nethis was a witch to her face. Even now with the news that the efforts of Tim and Zanon to protect the throne from the Thanasi clutch following the discovery had been for nothing — he couldn’t do more than shoot a glare at the head of the snake’s coven. Not unless he wanted to cause a scene in front of the whole court. However… if the Baron could catch her alone… he may not hold back with the accusations as past traumas that the snake woman had put him through had long ago clouded over his judgment.
It was a good thing he kept his mouth shut though as the next thing Vangelis did was subtly acknowledge the loyalty that Timaeus had shown during the time that the King had been out of the country. The Baron of Eubocris managed to swallow his anger and give the King a small nod in return. He tried to keep his face level, needing to be just as stone-like as the mountains that he called home, but as soon as his gaze shifted away, the Baron glanced over at his paramour for the evening. He didn’t hold back the slight grin on his face and subtle shift of his head towards his king. A wordless boast to the fact that he had been talking about Tim as if loyalty would somehow impress the girl who already couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of him.
However, that disappeared the moment that Vangelis spoke of weeding out those who were disloyal to the throne.
All the color drained from the Baron’s face as his eyes instinctively shifted around, looking for his pathetic excuse of a younger brother. How stupid could he have been to forget the boy in his drooling stupor over the pretty Leventi girl? He had left Sil alone at a Kotas event when he had almost been killed by the crown prince a few months prior.
Godsdammit, Timaeus chastised himself as a panic rose in his chest. He scanned the room for his brother while trying to not draw attention to himself, This is what I get for thinking with my —- Before he could even finish his scolding, he caught sight of the boy with his cousin Iolanthe and Tim could breathe a sigh of relief. As far as he knew, she had no idea what had happened and she would be the first to raise hell if Vangelis tried to exact the punishment for the Valaoritis’s crime that evening. Silanos would be safe with her, not to mention also safely kept in line. Their Peisistratos cousin was the only one who seemed to be capable of bringing the man-child to heel.
Luckily for them though, Vangelis seemed content with just letting the threat linger in the air and the minds of the Valaoritis boys. With the short speech swiftly concluding, as the new King had never been one for long speeches as he noted all those years ago on the bear hunt the two men had been on together, the joyous mood returned to the dining hall and the chatter resumed. Eager for the distraction, Timaeus instantly turned back to the Leventi before him with a slightly eager grin on his face. He was perfectly ready to cast all concerns of the evening aside and settle in for a good hearty meal to be shared in the stunning company that he had managed to find himself with that evening. Even with the warning from Vangelis, this night was quickly turning out to be perfect.
Just a little too perfect.
As the food was ushered in by servants and Timaeus was asking Nana about how she was faring so far on her trip to Colchis; a large commotion from the head table brought the perfect evening to a shattering halt. Instantly, Tim’s head turned to the source of the noise and found the King collapsed on the floor, seemingly grasping at his throat. The never-failing gossip circuits were quick to move through the crowd along with several gasps and cries of shock as the court of Colchis tried to comprehend was what happening before their very eyes.
Trapped in some sort of shocked daze, Timaeus pushed his chair back and stood up as many people moved to the ailing monarch. He didn’t move away from his seat though, as his mind just tried to comprehend what in the name of Hades was happening. If anyone were to notice him, they might have thought that his delayed reaction was little more than him being stunned at the notion of the ing being poisoned… but if anyone were to look a little closer, they might have seen the glazed look in his eyes. He was seeing Vangelis on the ground, being attended to by Nana’s elder sister and Thea of Thanasi, of all people, but he wasn’t truly seeing what was in front of him. Instead, without meaning too, all Timaeus was seeing was the haunting image of when it had been his brother collapsed on the floor. It was too similar for Timaeus’s brain to not slip back to that haunting night. Nico had been eating dinner and the next moment he was dead… just like what was happening to Vangelis. His mind was trapped in that dreadful night, mentally reliving the horror of seeing his elder brother slumped over… how Timaeus had pounded on Nico’s chest, begging his brother to breathe… failing to revive him…
His hands were shaking.
They were trembling so much as he grasped his goblet of wine that some of it managed to slosh out of the cup and spill over his hand. It was the coolness of the wasted drink that managed to pull him out of his twisted memories. Stunned, shocked, and completely disoriented, Timaeus had to glance about to gather his wits. His eyes finally settled on the girl across from him, a guest to the horror that was happening around them. Instead of moving to help the King, where quite frankly he would have been a waste anyway with how so many people surrounding the king, Timaeus moved away from his seat to round the table and comfort Nana. Now, whether or not she was upset was up in the air, but Timaeus needed the distraction and social customs said that she should panic at the sight of such traumatic events like this. He was a soldier, older brother, and Baron. Protecting was what he did best.
“ Nana,” He said as he moved to turn her away from the sight of a witch reviving their king, “ Are you alright? Where’s your family, you should —”
Timaeus was instantly cut off by a large booming noise coming from the front of the dikastiro. Some of the courtiers may have not known what it was, but the soldier within him knew instantly. The building was under siege and someone was trying to make their way in. At the second clattering of the doors, Timaeus instinctively grabbed a hold of the girl’s arm, forgoing the distant protectiveness that had come with being helpless and far too gone in his traumas to help the King. This was the militaristic side of the Baron that was coming out to play. His brain kicked into overdrive as he scanned the room, searching for anything that can be used to protect themselves as a cry went out through the room for the woman and children to get to the kitchens. His training told him that he should heed this order, see Nana safely to the kitchens and stay and fight with the other soldiers in the rooms.
Going off gut instinct alone, Timaeus began to gently pull the girl towards the direction of safety, protectively ducking an arm around her waist when she got the message and started to run with him. However, the booming was far too loud. It was far too close. They weren’t even halfway across the large chamber before Timaeus realized the inevitable truth. There wasn’t enough time. Whatever was behind that door wanted in and nothing short of the Gods themselves would be able to stop it.
Skidding to a halt near a column, Timaeus led the girl in a different direction, towards the shadows that the stone pillars provided. (It was quite fitting actually, given how a moment ago this had been their refuge from the crowd.) Once she was ducked behind one, momentarily out of sight from the weakening door, Tim looked at her imploringly, no idea that his actions thus far was probably solidifying her image of him of being a prince in shining armor, and asked once simple questions with heart-hammering implications.
“ Do you trust me?” His tone was slightly panicked and almost barkish, as this state of mind was no different than the one he had employed as a captain of his unit. It was a simple statement, but loud in the unspoken messages. Was their quiet flirting and rush to spend the night in each other’s company enough for her to trust him with her life? The sensible thing would be for her to say no, but then again when had either of them had done the sensible thing that evening?
“ Whatever happens, I will keep you safe.” Timaeus said further, not waiting for an answer as those doors came ever closer to breaking. It wasn’t a promise that he could guarantee to keep. He didn’t know what was outside and what it had in store for the courtiers within. No doubt it wasn’t pleasant and may even wish to bring harm to his peers that evening. Yet, there was no way that he was going to abandon Nana and leave her for whatever hounds were trying to barge their way in. That would be a cowardly thing to do and Timaeus was certainly not going to compromise his honor for his skin.
“ But I need you to trust me.” He implored, knowing full well that whatever happened, he needed her full confidence. If this was a fairytale, this would have easily been seen as heart-gushingly romantic, but this wasn’t that. Not when the booming of those doors was getting louder by the second. Despite the promises he was making, Timaeus knew that there was only so little he could do without the sword he was forced to leave behind before coming to this event. Most of the men were unarmed like him, leaving the whole lot of them defenseless as it sounded like an army was pounding at their door.
Only the gods could save them now.
Timaeus couldn’t believe his luck when the girl agreed to enjoy the meal with him. After all, who would have thought… A Valaoritis baron managing to capture the attention of a Leventi. One of the most sought after women in the whole realm, especially as her older sisters were married off one by one, wanting to spend time with him. A Baron of Stone with the prize gem of Taengea. Oh, gods, what good had he done to deserve this?
An almost childlike grin crossed his face as the girl took his arm and he led them to a spot at the lower tables. He just couldn’t believe that this was happening. It seemed to be almost like some sort of wonderful dream, only made better by the fact that he had managed to capture the attention of one of the blonde daughters — He had always had a thing for those with lighter hair. That only made this dream-come-true even better. But as Timaeus took his seat across from her, he honestly could not keep his eyes off of the girl before him. Once she told him her name the baron parroted it back to her with that cheeky boyish grin splattered across his face, “ Nana, what a lovely name.” At that moment he was so dumbstruck that if he was asked what the most beautiful word he had ever heard was, he would have said the blonde’s name.
But luckily, no one did as the dull roar of chatter died to a quiet lull, Timaeus pulled his eyes from the jewel before him and tried to focus on the King addressing them for the first time. Even though the Kotas’s voice boomed through the halls, the Baron found it difficult to keep his eyes trained towards the front of the room. He would manage the task for a moment, but then a slight movement from the girl would shatter what little concentration he had. Tim couldn’t help turning his head whenever caught sight of the slightest glitter from her shining hair or heard the lightest ruffling noise from the endless piles of lavender fabric. Nana of Leventi was just far too alluring for his eyes to resist and whenever the two of them would catch each other’s eyes, he couldn’t help returning the grin that appeared on the girl’s face. It was subtle for him, the slight uptick of a smile that would remain a moment longer after he ducked his head to keep it from growing. This was a somber event after all, no matter how joyous he might feel at this point, sitting across from of the most beautiful ladies he had ever seen.
For a split second though, as he ducked his head for the umpteenth time, he wondered how on earth the two of them managed to move so quickly? Why were they already so eager to be in each other’s presence that the two of them were willing to flounce the social rules and the expectations to enjoy each other’s company for the evening. Granted, he knew that he had nothing to lose. Unmarried young men like him were expected to be hot-blooded wild things, chasing after anything that caught their eyes. She was supposed to guard herself against being seen with men like him, lest her reputation suffer. His status as a Baron and trusted friend of the new crown prince surely protected her somewhat — especially if he could manage to control himself and not let himself be so visibly doe-eyed at the girl, but still… he couldn’t let that nagging feeling go that they weren’t supposed to be doing this. That she shouldn’t be sitting alone with a Baron like him. Hades, this would barely be acceptable if he was one of the Prince’s brothers!
However, as perplexing as this was to him and how much Nana’s pretty face distracted him, the young man was snapped back to reality when the Crown Prince gave a flurry of announcements. Tim’s hand clenched his goblet of wine tighter when the King declared that the Thanasis was innocent of any wrongdoing. A scowl was instantly etched on his face as he muttered under his breath, “ Seven Hades, they are.” His voice was so quiet that perhaps the girl across from him didn’t even notice and no one certainly knew when he ducked his head so no one could see his displeasure at the news. Timaeus had been convinced that they were to blame when that ship turned up the shores of Nethisa. It seemed obvious that the eldest of their coven had used her unnatural powers granted to her by some sort of monstrous demon to bring about the end of their king. This accusation wasn’t an outlandish one to make either, especially as everyone in Colchis knew that the whole lot of them were evil, but everyone was too scared to say so. Even Timaeus no longer had the childish nerve he once had too openly profess his unwavering belief that Nethis was a witch to her face. Even now with the news that the efforts of Tim and Zanon to protect the throne from the Thanasi clutch following the discovery had been for nothing — he couldn’t do more than shoot a glare at the head of the snake’s coven. Not unless he wanted to cause a scene in front of the whole court. However… if the Baron could catch her alone… he may not hold back with the accusations as past traumas that the snake woman had put him through had long ago clouded over his judgment.
It was a good thing he kept his mouth shut though as the next thing Vangelis did was subtly acknowledge the loyalty that Timaeus had shown during the time that the King had been out of the country. The Baron of Eubocris managed to swallow his anger and give the King a small nod in return. He tried to keep his face level, needing to be just as stone-like as the mountains that he called home, but as soon as his gaze shifted away, the Baron glanced over at his paramour for the evening. He didn’t hold back the slight grin on his face and subtle shift of his head towards his king. A wordless boast to the fact that he had been talking about Tim as if loyalty would somehow impress the girl who already couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of him.
However, that disappeared the moment that Vangelis spoke of weeding out those who were disloyal to the throne.
All the color drained from the Baron’s face as his eyes instinctively shifted around, looking for his pathetic excuse of a younger brother. How stupid could he have been to forget the boy in his drooling stupor over the pretty Leventi girl? He had left Sil alone at a Kotas event when he had almost been killed by the crown prince a few months prior.
Godsdammit, Timaeus chastised himself as a panic rose in his chest. He scanned the room for his brother while trying to not draw attention to himself, This is what I get for thinking with my —- Before he could even finish his scolding, he caught sight of the boy with his cousin Iolanthe and Tim could breathe a sigh of relief. As far as he knew, she had no idea what had happened and she would be the first to raise hell if Vangelis tried to exact the punishment for the Valaoritis’s crime that evening. Silanos would be safe with her, not to mention also safely kept in line. Their Peisistratos cousin was the only one who seemed to be capable of bringing the man-child to heel.
Luckily for them though, Vangelis seemed content with just letting the threat linger in the air and the minds of the Valaoritis boys. With the short speech swiftly concluding, as the new King had never been one for long speeches as he noted all those years ago on the bear hunt the two men had been on together, the joyous mood returned to the dining hall and the chatter resumed. Eager for the distraction, Timaeus instantly turned back to the Leventi before him with a slightly eager grin on his face. He was perfectly ready to cast all concerns of the evening aside and settle in for a good hearty meal to be shared in the stunning company that he had managed to find himself with that evening. Even with the warning from Vangelis, this night was quickly turning out to be perfect.
Just a little too perfect.
As the food was ushered in by servants and Timaeus was asking Nana about how she was faring so far on her trip to Colchis; a large commotion from the head table brought the perfect evening to a shattering halt. Instantly, Tim’s head turned to the source of the noise and found the King collapsed on the floor, seemingly grasping at his throat. The never-failing gossip circuits were quick to move through the crowd along with several gasps and cries of shock as the court of Colchis tried to comprehend was what happening before their very eyes.
Trapped in some sort of shocked daze, Timaeus pushed his chair back and stood up as many people moved to the ailing monarch. He didn’t move away from his seat though, as his mind just tried to comprehend what in the name of Hades was happening. If anyone were to notice him, they might have thought that his delayed reaction was little more than him being stunned at the notion of the ing being poisoned… but if anyone were to look a little closer, they might have seen the glazed look in his eyes. He was seeing Vangelis on the ground, being attended to by Nana’s elder sister and Thea of Thanasi, of all people, but he wasn’t truly seeing what was in front of him. Instead, without meaning too, all Timaeus was seeing was the haunting image of when it had been his brother collapsed on the floor. It was too similar for Timaeus’s brain to not slip back to that haunting night. Nico had been eating dinner and the next moment he was dead… just like what was happening to Vangelis. His mind was trapped in that dreadful night, mentally reliving the horror of seeing his elder brother slumped over… how Timaeus had pounded on Nico’s chest, begging his brother to breathe… failing to revive him…
His hands were shaking.
They were trembling so much as he grasped his goblet of wine that some of it managed to slosh out of the cup and spill over his hand. It was the coolness of the wasted drink that managed to pull him out of his twisted memories. Stunned, shocked, and completely disoriented, Timaeus had to glance about to gather his wits. His eyes finally settled on the girl across from him, a guest to the horror that was happening around them. Instead of moving to help the King, where quite frankly he would have been a waste anyway with how so many people surrounding the king, Timaeus moved away from his seat to round the table and comfort Nana. Now, whether or not she was upset was up in the air, but Timaeus needed the distraction and social customs said that she should panic at the sight of such traumatic events like this. He was a soldier, older brother, and Baron. Protecting was what he did best.
“ Nana,” He said as he moved to turn her away from the sight of a witch reviving their king, “ Are you alright? Where’s your family, you should —”
Timaeus was instantly cut off by a large booming noise coming from the front of the dikastiro. Some of the courtiers may have not known what it was, but the soldier within him knew instantly. The building was under siege and someone was trying to make their way in. At the second clattering of the doors, Timaeus instinctively grabbed a hold of the girl’s arm, forgoing the distant protectiveness that had come with being helpless and far too gone in his traumas to help the King. This was the militaristic side of the Baron that was coming out to play. His brain kicked into overdrive as he scanned the room, searching for anything that can be used to protect themselves as a cry went out through the room for the woman and children to get to the kitchens. His training told him that he should heed this order, see Nana safely to the kitchens and stay and fight with the other soldiers in the rooms.
Going off gut instinct alone, Timaeus began to gently pull the girl towards the direction of safety, protectively ducking an arm around her waist when she got the message and started to run with him. However, the booming was far too loud. It was far too close. They weren’t even halfway across the large chamber before Timaeus realized the inevitable truth. There wasn’t enough time. Whatever was behind that door wanted in and nothing short of the Gods themselves would be able to stop it.
Skidding to a halt near a column, Timaeus led the girl in a different direction, towards the shadows that the stone pillars provided. (It was quite fitting actually, given how a moment ago this had been their refuge from the crowd.) Once she was ducked behind one, momentarily out of sight from the weakening door, Tim looked at her imploringly, no idea that his actions thus far was probably solidifying her image of him of being a prince in shining armor, and asked once simple questions with heart-hammering implications.
“ Do you trust me?” His tone was slightly panicked and almost barkish, as this state of mind was no different than the one he had employed as a captain of his unit. It was a simple statement, but loud in the unspoken messages. Was their quiet flirting and rush to spend the night in each other’s company enough for her to trust him with her life? The sensible thing would be for her to say no, but then again when had either of them had done the sensible thing that evening?
“ Whatever happens, I will keep you safe.” Timaeus said further, not waiting for an answer as those doors came ever closer to breaking. It wasn’t a promise that he could guarantee to keep. He didn’t know what was outside and what it had in store for the courtiers within. No doubt it wasn’t pleasant and may even wish to bring harm to his peers that evening. Yet, there was no way that he was going to abandon Nana and leave her for whatever hounds were trying to barge their way in. That would be a cowardly thing to do and Timaeus was certainly not going to compromise his honor for his skin.
“ But I need you to trust me.” He implored, knowing full well that whatever happened, he needed her full confidence. If this was a fairytale, this would have easily been seen as heart-gushingly romantic, but this wasn’t that. Not when the booming of those doors was getting louder by the second. Despite the promises he was making, Timaeus knew that there was only so little he could do without the sword he was forced to leave behind before coming to this event. Most of the men were unarmed like him, leaving the whole lot of them defenseless as it sounded like an army was pounding at their door.
Only the gods could save them now.
It was perhaps strange, but Mihail could not help but nod in agreement as the princess commented on her desire that Thea save her brother. He may not have cared too deeply for the wellbeing of most members of the Kotas family (indeed, some intense sense of hope had briefly burst through him at the idea that they might have lost their short-reigning King and his own sister could have claimed the title of Queen) but the thought that saving the man's life could propel his family into positive graces was not something he wishes to pass up. Thought 'twas with legitimate reasons that the Thanasis had earned that malevolent reputation of theirs, one could not deny the benefits of a sudden kinder view.
"I understand," he answered her unfinished thought, not needing the continuation. Of course, Mihail could not quite comprehend her situation, for he was somewhat unaware of the tragedies of familial loss, given how little his mother's had mattered to him, but that did not mean he was wholly incompetent when it came to grieving. "You do not wish to suffer the heartbreak of another." He left out the final word, as if she needed the reminder, but the implication was there, and the sentiment remained regardless.
He let her grip his hand as tightly as she wished, the pressure of her skin against his a designated release for the anxiety he imagined flowed through her at that moment. It was an echo of all those times he had latched onto Nethis or Evras or Thea's hands in his childhood; all those times in which he had been too afraid to face a fear himself. Some said they'd let him grow up too slowly, and that such coddling would not serve him in his eventual desire to be seen as a man in his own right, but it had provided humanity to Mihail's character that may not have emerged otherwise. He was thankful for the long-lasting hold they'd allowed him, and he was willing to offer that same comfort to the girl at his side.
The following events were a rushed madness of emotions fuelled by that ever-discomforting blend of panic and confusion. In the moments which passed after the excessively familiar sound of a man emptying his stomach and gasping for air; in the empty seconds after Athanasia commented on her relief, before Mihail could part his own lips and mutter a further reassurance, there was a crashing at the entrance to the hall, and the atmosphere returned to its previous darkness. It appeared the event was refusing to pass without some causality.
His first instinct was to run. It was no secret that Mihail was not the bravest of individuals, and that within him, that fighting spirit embraced by most who shared his sex had been replaced with humiliating cowardice. By some divine providence, he had even been offered a usually welcome alternative, for here was his brother-in-law calling for him to escape to the kitchens in the guise of gallantly protecting the pair with which he stood. And yet he stood his ground, nodding to Evras and half-ignoring his father save for a mild glance of distaste as they took control of Dion. He had a vested interest of sorts now, though whether it stemmed from a selfish desire to improve his own image or some uncharacteristic urge to aid others, he could not place. Either way, he found himself unmoving, only nodding in answer to Athanasia's words, as if confirming his own fighting intentions.
"I would not dream of it. If you wish to fight, then who am I to stop your Highness?" It was another example of that sudden strange boldness of his, as his eyes darted around the room in search of something which could aid them. He was not skilled in most weapons - he favored his bow and arrow, though he was somewhat proficient with the dagger he kept beside his bed - and most of the guards here carried swords as their primary armament. There were a few who seemed overly-armed for the occasion (a paranoia which they would now likely be pleased to have possessed), one of which possessed flaxen-hair that may once have been thick and luscious and yet now hung in thinned threads but who, more importantly, carried that same archery equipment with which Mihail was so experienced.
He squeezed Athanasia's hand once more, tilting his head in the man's direction as he offered her a kind smile. "If I could take his bow, perhaps I could help. I will be a mere moment." He released her hold, sliding through those few individuals that were still crowded around the royal table to where the guards stood ready, already half-poised against the violent shudders of the doors.
"I need your bow," Mihail informed the man, his tone as imperious as ever, though there was an added edge of determination to it this time that was usually not present. "I have your princess to protect." It seemed a worryingly clichéd statement, and not quite the truth, and yet the man seemed alarmingly willing to slide the equipment from his shoulders, perhaps aware that the swords at his side would be valid enough defense against whichever invading force stood beyond the doorway.
The man had only a single bow, and it felt far more pedestrian than the one with which the Thanasi traditionally practiced. His arrows were not so impressive either, but he could work with the equipment regardless, only returning to Princess Athanasia at the doors shook so forcefully that they seemed ready to give way. "No matter what occurs, we shall be well prepared."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It was perhaps strange, but Mihail could not help but nod in agreement as the princess commented on her desire that Thea save her brother. He may not have cared too deeply for the wellbeing of most members of the Kotas family (indeed, some intense sense of hope had briefly burst through him at the idea that they might have lost their short-reigning King and his own sister could have claimed the title of Queen) but the thought that saving the man's life could propel his family into positive graces was not something he wishes to pass up. Thought 'twas with legitimate reasons that the Thanasis had earned that malevolent reputation of theirs, one could not deny the benefits of a sudden kinder view.
"I understand," he answered her unfinished thought, not needing the continuation. Of course, Mihail could not quite comprehend her situation, for he was somewhat unaware of the tragedies of familial loss, given how little his mother's had mattered to him, but that did not mean he was wholly incompetent when it came to grieving. "You do not wish to suffer the heartbreak of another." He left out the final word, as if she needed the reminder, but the implication was there, and the sentiment remained regardless.
He let her grip his hand as tightly as she wished, the pressure of her skin against his a designated release for the anxiety he imagined flowed through her at that moment. It was an echo of all those times he had latched onto Nethis or Evras or Thea's hands in his childhood; all those times in which he had been too afraid to face a fear himself. Some said they'd let him grow up too slowly, and that such coddling would not serve him in his eventual desire to be seen as a man in his own right, but it had provided humanity to Mihail's character that may not have emerged otherwise. He was thankful for the long-lasting hold they'd allowed him, and he was willing to offer that same comfort to the girl at his side.
The following events were a rushed madness of emotions fuelled by that ever-discomforting blend of panic and confusion. In the moments which passed after the excessively familiar sound of a man emptying his stomach and gasping for air; in the empty seconds after Athanasia commented on her relief, before Mihail could part his own lips and mutter a further reassurance, there was a crashing at the entrance to the hall, and the atmosphere returned to its previous darkness. It appeared the event was refusing to pass without some causality.
His first instinct was to run. It was no secret that Mihail was not the bravest of individuals, and that within him, that fighting spirit embraced by most who shared his sex had been replaced with humiliating cowardice. By some divine providence, he had even been offered a usually welcome alternative, for here was his brother-in-law calling for him to escape to the kitchens in the guise of gallantly protecting the pair with which he stood. And yet he stood his ground, nodding to Evras and half-ignoring his father save for a mild glance of distaste as they took control of Dion. He had a vested interest of sorts now, though whether it stemmed from a selfish desire to improve his own image or some uncharacteristic urge to aid others, he could not place. Either way, he found himself unmoving, only nodding in answer to Athanasia's words, as if confirming his own fighting intentions.
"I would not dream of it. If you wish to fight, then who am I to stop your Highness?" It was another example of that sudden strange boldness of his, as his eyes darted around the room in search of something which could aid them. He was not skilled in most weapons - he favored his bow and arrow, though he was somewhat proficient with the dagger he kept beside his bed - and most of the guards here carried swords as their primary armament. There were a few who seemed overly-armed for the occasion (a paranoia which they would now likely be pleased to have possessed), one of which possessed flaxen-hair that may once have been thick and luscious and yet now hung in thinned threads but who, more importantly, carried that same archery equipment with which Mihail was so experienced.
He squeezed Athanasia's hand once more, tilting his head in the man's direction as he offered her a kind smile. "If I could take his bow, perhaps I could help. I will be a mere moment." He released her hold, sliding through those few individuals that were still crowded around the royal table to where the guards stood ready, already half-poised against the violent shudders of the doors.
"I need your bow," Mihail informed the man, his tone as imperious as ever, though there was an added edge of determination to it this time that was usually not present. "I have your princess to protect." It seemed a worryingly clichéd statement, and not quite the truth, and yet the man seemed alarmingly willing to slide the equipment from his shoulders, perhaps aware that the swords at his side would be valid enough defense against whichever invading force stood beyond the doorway.
The man had only a single bow, and it felt far more pedestrian than the one with which the Thanasi traditionally practiced. His arrows were not so impressive either, but he could work with the equipment regardless, only returning to Princess Athanasia at the doors shook so forcefully that they seemed ready to give way. "No matter what occurs, we shall be well prepared."
It was perhaps strange, but Mihail could not help but nod in agreement as the princess commented on her desire that Thea save her brother. He may not have cared too deeply for the wellbeing of most members of the Kotas family (indeed, some intense sense of hope had briefly burst through him at the idea that they might have lost their short-reigning King and his own sister could have claimed the title of Queen) but the thought that saving the man's life could propel his family into positive graces was not something he wishes to pass up. Thought 'twas with legitimate reasons that the Thanasis had earned that malevolent reputation of theirs, one could not deny the benefits of a sudden kinder view.
"I understand," he answered her unfinished thought, not needing the continuation. Of course, Mihail could not quite comprehend her situation, for he was somewhat unaware of the tragedies of familial loss, given how little his mother's had mattered to him, but that did not mean he was wholly incompetent when it came to grieving. "You do not wish to suffer the heartbreak of another." He left out the final word, as if she needed the reminder, but the implication was there, and the sentiment remained regardless.
He let her grip his hand as tightly as she wished, the pressure of her skin against his a designated release for the anxiety he imagined flowed through her at that moment. It was an echo of all those times he had latched onto Nethis or Evras or Thea's hands in his childhood; all those times in which he had been too afraid to face a fear himself. Some said they'd let him grow up too slowly, and that such coddling would not serve him in his eventual desire to be seen as a man in his own right, but it had provided humanity to Mihail's character that may not have emerged otherwise. He was thankful for the long-lasting hold they'd allowed him, and he was willing to offer that same comfort to the girl at his side.
The following events were a rushed madness of emotions fuelled by that ever-discomforting blend of panic and confusion. In the moments which passed after the excessively familiar sound of a man emptying his stomach and gasping for air; in the empty seconds after Athanasia commented on her relief, before Mihail could part his own lips and mutter a further reassurance, there was a crashing at the entrance to the hall, and the atmosphere returned to its previous darkness. It appeared the event was refusing to pass without some causality.
His first instinct was to run. It was no secret that Mihail was not the bravest of individuals, and that within him, that fighting spirit embraced by most who shared his sex had been replaced with humiliating cowardice. By some divine providence, he had even been offered a usually welcome alternative, for here was his brother-in-law calling for him to escape to the kitchens in the guise of gallantly protecting the pair with which he stood. And yet he stood his ground, nodding to Evras and half-ignoring his father save for a mild glance of distaste as they took control of Dion. He had a vested interest of sorts now, though whether it stemmed from a selfish desire to improve his own image or some uncharacteristic urge to aid others, he could not place. Either way, he found himself unmoving, only nodding in answer to Athanasia's words, as if confirming his own fighting intentions.
"I would not dream of it. If you wish to fight, then who am I to stop your Highness?" It was another example of that sudden strange boldness of his, as his eyes darted around the room in search of something which could aid them. He was not skilled in most weapons - he favored his bow and arrow, though he was somewhat proficient with the dagger he kept beside his bed - and most of the guards here carried swords as their primary armament. There were a few who seemed overly-armed for the occasion (a paranoia which they would now likely be pleased to have possessed), one of which possessed flaxen-hair that may once have been thick and luscious and yet now hung in thinned threads but who, more importantly, carried that same archery equipment with which Mihail was so experienced.
He squeezed Athanasia's hand once more, tilting his head in the man's direction as he offered her a kind smile. "If I could take his bow, perhaps I could help. I will be a mere moment." He released her hold, sliding through those few individuals that were still crowded around the royal table to where the guards stood ready, already half-poised against the violent shudders of the doors.
"I need your bow," Mihail informed the man, his tone as imperious as ever, though there was an added edge of determination to it this time that was usually not present. "I have your princess to protect." It seemed a worryingly clichéd statement, and not quite the truth, and yet the man seemed alarmingly willing to slide the equipment from his shoulders, perhaps aware that the swords at his side would be valid enough defense against whichever invading force stood beyond the doorway.
The man had only a single bow, and it felt far more pedestrian than the one with which the Thanasi traditionally practiced. His arrows were not so impressive either, but he could work with the equipment regardless, only returning to Princess Athanasia at the doors shook so forcefully that they seemed ready to give way. "No matter what occurs, we shall be well prepared."
Were he a young man, new to the trials of what it meant to power through injury and stand when your knees wanted to give way, Vangelis would have never managed to remain on his feet. Standing braced against the table, his eyes closed, his stomach rolling, his ears told him of what was happening around him more than his sight. Specifically, the noise of the door being broken down across the room. One hand held his weight upright from the table, his fingers splayed across its surface. The other was curled around the hilt of his blade in preparation for drawing the rare iron sword from its sheath. Yet, he wasn't at all sure he had the strength to pull it free from its leather cocoon.
As he brought his brow low, his forehead furrowed and his eyes pulled tightly shut, Vangelis swallowed back saliva that tasted of bile and ash and felt his mouth revolt upon him. He wanted to part his lips, to heave once more and rid himself of the taste on his tongue and the clawing feeling of dirt and grit in his middle. Or perhaps just dribble like some incontinent creature on the floor, his taste buds shielded from the nauseating concoction by spit and slime.
Gods, he felt awful.
His head was pounding, his heartbeat feeling sluggish and awkward in his neck, which tensed the muscles down his spine and across his shoulder-blades. His abdomen couldn't be pulled tighter than it was, as his belly refused to accept the invasion of charcoal and whatever else Thea had forced down his throat. He wanted to spit and vomit out everything he possessed but now was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he resisted dampness in his eyes and the noxious feeling that coated his skin in a sheen of sweat and inhaled slowly and steadily through his nose.
His throat was raw and his chest ached with the simple gesture that had been subconscious to him not ten minutes prior, but mentally forbidding himself to consider the ramifications of what could have happened since he last breathed with ease, Vangelis allowed the inflation of his lungs to send his spine straighter and his body upright.
Opening his eyes and turning his attention towards the doors that he could see sported a dark and dangerous split in the oak beam that barred their opening, Vangelis blinked away the last of the weeping in his eyes and settled his feet hip-width apart for a sturdier base. In one swift movement that achieved its result more through practice than strength, the King drew his sword before turning to move with a careful but steady stride down the length of the royal table.
His legs felt like paper, his knees like water and everything from his hips to his shoulders felt like it had been clamped in a vice and heated in a furnace before abruptly being released, weak and uncoordinated. But walking was a practice motion. And if he concentrated hard enough on the wall before him, or the floor beneath his feet, he could perform it without swaying or wobbling on his pins.
Skirting the end of the table, Vangelis was careful to spot who stood where. When the fight broke out, he wanted to be assured he knew friend from foe and given the weakness in his muscles, the ache in his arms and how sluggish his brain clicked over, he wasn't convinced he could rely on his reflexes to tell him. He would need to remember where those he did not wish to harm had positioned themselves.
Dion and his sister stood together, with a small cluster of the Thanasis. Vangelis felt his stomach shift even worse if that was possible for the fact that Athanasia had secured a weapon and appeared in no way willing to leave the room where the danger would be rampant. The tension was eased slightly by the appearance of Stephanos, who took sentry duty beside the girl and her young nephew and Vangelis shared a simply moment of eye contact – King to King – before he turned his attentions once more to keeping his balance.
A King could not appear weakened just before a battle.
No matter how many had witnessed him almost lose his life not a meal ago.
Within a few moments, Vangelis was once more before his own throne, only this time on the room's side of the table. He was pleased that the softer of his family – his mother, his sister-in-law and the women of the Houses were given the defence of the table. His blade was held by his side with deliberance as he would only raise it when required, keeping his strength for the fight ahead.
In the time it had taken him to remove the head table from his path, the militants in the room had turned to action as they had been trained - some by he or one of the prince's personally... some by their superior officers. Yet all were prepared as Colchians were.
Having already barred the entrance upon Vangelis consuming the poison, now they stood awaiting the intruders that tried to barge through it, their ranks steady and their commanders in the lead. Vangelis stood behind the little group but a wide enough path could be found directly from himself to the door. For he had to be allowed to face his own enemies, just as they.
A Captain yelled to place men upon himself and the royal family and he offered only a few hand gestures to ensure that they stood by him rather than before him. There for support and protection over becoming a martyring shield. He did the same with his brother, when Zanon attempted to ensure that Vangelis remained entirely out of fighting range. He remained stubbornly at his brother’s side, determined not to cower.
Another boom shook the room in its echoing assault upon the ears of all inside, as Vangelis settled his feet, gripped the hilt of his blade harder and looked towards the men in the room with a stare of confident granite that seemed to reassure most that their king was alive, well and able to defend those he held dear, regardless of his physical state. The determination in his frame seemed to become contagious around the room as the Colchian way of life steeled spines and secured muscles into a wall of defiance. Like the mountains of their land against all oncoming waves.
With the women hidden away in kitchens or under tables there was little else Vangelis could order be done before the light of the open, night-time air began streaming in through the crack in the doors and with another, single bang of a wave of shoulders, the doors to the Dikastirio broke free.
Shards of the wooden barrier that had stretched across the portal flew in different directions, forcing the men on the front most line to raise their forearms and protect their eyes from flying pieces of wood. Two heavy clatters careened over the floor in a high-pitched protest as the two halves of the barrier itself fell to the ground and the doors gave a reverberant ricochet, smashing into the walls on either side.
Soldiers, clad in nondescript uniforms of brown and black - grunts of no rank or loyalty - fell upon the room, the force of their shoulders sending them through the gates they had smashed free and several harried steps into the chamber.
Once righted in balance, those in front fell back in a simple step of organised tactics, as the men behind - the ones able to have their weapons drawn during the break in - could step in the opposite direction, switching places and bringing themselves to the front. It was a simple manoeuvre that kept those who had broken through safe long enough to draw blades.
Yet, none attacked.
Vangelis watched and waited as the noises of the broken doors - the creaking of the hinges, the sliding, on-edge rasp of broken wood dragging across the stone floor as they swayed - dimmed in the room and the men who had caused the break in simply stared down those who defended against it.
With no determined assault, Vangelis remained silent, not giving the order to attack for his own men were out-matched in terms of weaponry - there was little in the Dikastirio - and had no means of retreat should a battle prove unadvantageous. If these men wanted to stare them down all day then so be it... At least in a few hours he might be able to stop being so aware of his own tongue and feel confident in lifting his blade.
Yet a few hours were not needed.
Whilst their eyes glanced over those whom they had come across within the Dikastirio, the invaders remained peaceful, blades drawn but unused, as they shifted to permit their leader entrance.
Tall, with a broad shape to his shoulders and a demeanour of square power and stoic doggedness in his step, the invader was slow in his movements but confident of his reception. His gait was one of strength and the sway of his left arm almost lazy as he moved into the room, one hand braced on the pummel of his sword; a blade still sheathed at his hip.
The man wore armour of high quality but dull colour. Like his men, he was clad in no stripes of loyalty, sigils or flags. The leather and metal that had been plated upon him were hewn from shades of darkness and swaths of brown. The helmet he wore upon his head masked most of his face as it swung from one direction to the other taking in the room, the people... the discarded items and fluids on the floor that made it clear what had happened in recent history.
Dark eyes swung back towards Vangelis, having assessed the scenario and come to their accurate conclusion.
Vangelis would have frowned at the intruder not being aware of the king’s clearly planned weakened state if he wasn’t already aware of more than others might not be.
The man raised his hands to lift the helmet from his head but it was too late if he had been hoping to save his identity for its removal. For Vangelis was fully aware of whom this was.
Every muscle in Vangelis’s body fell into a state of weakness, his blade slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor in a manner of surrender he had never before shown an enemy. He was forced to fall back, allowing his rear to meet the edge of the table and his hand to reach out to support himself. His face was a mask of disbelief.
He didn't need the leader of their intruders to remove his helmet to know that his face beneath would be square, with a jutting jaw and a wide brow. His features would be rough in a manner that was not unpleasant but neither truly handsome. His hair would be dark. Curled and thick... Like that of his sons.
Vangelis had no need to see the face beneath the helmet, for his eyes had already noticed the wedding band that hung from a silver chain, as it always had, around that thick neck.
Knowing the man as he knew his own reflection, Vangelis could only watch with lips slightly parted as those features that he had already painted in his mind were revealed and the first words from that mouth set the harsh lines of his lips into a sardonic half smile.
"Watch what you eat, son." King Tython said. His words seeping into the sudden silence of the room. "Colchis can't lose two kings in so many weeks." His eyes flashed with humour. "It's bad for morale."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Were he a young man, new to the trials of what it meant to power through injury and stand when your knees wanted to give way, Vangelis would have never managed to remain on his feet. Standing braced against the table, his eyes closed, his stomach rolling, his ears told him of what was happening around him more than his sight. Specifically, the noise of the door being broken down across the room. One hand held his weight upright from the table, his fingers splayed across its surface. The other was curled around the hilt of his blade in preparation for drawing the rare iron sword from its sheath. Yet, he wasn't at all sure he had the strength to pull it free from its leather cocoon.
As he brought his brow low, his forehead furrowed and his eyes pulled tightly shut, Vangelis swallowed back saliva that tasted of bile and ash and felt his mouth revolt upon him. He wanted to part his lips, to heave once more and rid himself of the taste on his tongue and the clawing feeling of dirt and grit in his middle. Or perhaps just dribble like some incontinent creature on the floor, his taste buds shielded from the nauseating concoction by spit and slime.
Gods, he felt awful.
His head was pounding, his heartbeat feeling sluggish and awkward in his neck, which tensed the muscles down his spine and across his shoulder-blades. His abdomen couldn't be pulled tighter than it was, as his belly refused to accept the invasion of charcoal and whatever else Thea had forced down his throat. He wanted to spit and vomit out everything he possessed but now was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he resisted dampness in his eyes and the noxious feeling that coated his skin in a sheen of sweat and inhaled slowly and steadily through his nose.
His throat was raw and his chest ached with the simple gesture that had been subconscious to him not ten minutes prior, but mentally forbidding himself to consider the ramifications of what could have happened since he last breathed with ease, Vangelis allowed the inflation of his lungs to send his spine straighter and his body upright.
Opening his eyes and turning his attention towards the doors that he could see sported a dark and dangerous split in the oak beam that barred their opening, Vangelis blinked away the last of the weeping in his eyes and settled his feet hip-width apart for a sturdier base. In one swift movement that achieved its result more through practice than strength, the King drew his sword before turning to move with a careful but steady stride down the length of the royal table.
His legs felt like paper, his knees like water and everything from his hips to his shoulders felt like it had been clamped in a vice and heated in a furnace before abruptly being released, weak and uncoordinated. But walking was a practice motion. And if he concentrated hard enough on the wall before him, or the floor beneath his feet, he could perform it without swaying or wobbling on his pins.
Skirting the end of the table, Vangelis was careful to spot who stood where. When the fight broke out, he wanted to be assured he knew friend from foe and given the weakness in his muscles, the ache in his arms and how sluggish his brain clicked over, he wasn't convinced he could rely on his reflexes to tell him. He would need to remember where those he did not wish to harm had positioned themselves.
Dion and his sister stood together, with a small cluster of the Thanasis. Vangelis felt his stomach shift even worse if that was possible for the fact that Athanasia had secured a weapon and appeared in no way willing to leave the room where the danger would be rampant. The tension was eased slightly by the appearance of Stephanos, who took sentry duty beside the girl and her young nephew and Vangelis shared a simply moment of eye contact – King to King – before he turned his attentions once more to keeping his balance.
A King could not appear weakened just before a battle.
No matter how many had witnessed him almost lose his life not a meal ago.
Within a few moments, Vangelis was once more before his own throne, only this time on the room's side of the table. He was pleased that the softer of his family – his mother, his sister-in-law and the women of the Houses were given the defence of the table. His blade was held by his side with deliberance as he would only raise it when required, keeping his strength for the fight ahead.
In the time it had taken him to remove the head table from his path, the militants in the room had turned to action as they had been trained - some by he or one of the prince's personally... some by their superior officers. Yet all were prepared as Colchians were.
Having already barred the entrance upon Vangelis consuming the poison, now they stood awaiting the intruders that tried to barge through it, their ranks steady and their commanders in the lead. Vangelis stood behind the little group but a wide enough path could be found directly from himself to the door. For he had to be allowed to face his own enemies, just as they.
A Captain yelled to place men upon himself and the royal family and he offered only a few hand gestures to ensure that they stood by him rather than before him. There for support and protection over becoming a martyring shield. He did the same with his brother, when Zanon attempted to ensure that Vangelis remained entirely out of fighting range. He remained stubbornly at his brother’s side, determined not to cower.
Another boom shook the room in its echoing assault upon the ears of all inside, as Vangelis settled his feet, gripped the hilt of his blade harder and looked towards the men in the room with a stare of confident granite that seemed to reassure most that their king was alive, well and able to defend those he held dear, regardless of his physical state. The determination in his frame seemed to become contagious around the room as the Colchian way of life steeled spines and secured muscles into a wall of defiance. Like the mountains of their land against all oncoming waves.
With the women hidden away in kitchens or under tables there was little else Vangelis could order be done before the light of the open, night-time air began streaming in through the crack in the doors and with another, single bang of a wave of shoulders, the doors to the Dikastirio broke free.
Shards of the wooden barrier that had stretched across the portal flew in different directions, forcing the men on the front most line to raise their forearms and protect their eyes from flying pieces of wood. Two heavy clatters careened over the floor in a high-pitched protest as the two halves of the barrier itself fell to the ground and the doors gave a reverberant ricochet, smashing into the walls on either side.
Soldiers, clad in nondescript uniforms of brown and black - grunts of no rank or loyalty - fell upon the room, the force of their shoulders sending them through the gates they had smashed free and several harried steps into the chamber.
Once righted in balance, those in front fell back in a simple step of organised tactics, as the men behind - the ones able to have their weapons drawn during the break in - could step in the opposite direction, switching places and bringing themselves to the front. It was a simple manoeuvre that kept those who had broken through safe long enough to draw blades.
Yet, none attacked.
Vangelis watched and waited as the noises of the broken doors - the creaking of the hinges, the sliding, on-edge rasp of broken wood dragging across the stone floor as they swayed - dimmed in the room and the men who had caused the break in simply stared down those who defended against it.
With no determined assault, Vangelis remained silent, not giving the order to attack for his own men were out-matched in terms of weaponry - there was little in the Dikastirio - and had no means of retreat should a battle prove unadvantageous. If these men wanted to stare them down all day then so be it... At least in a few hours he might be able to stop being so aware of his own tongue and feel confident in lifting his blade.
Yet a few hours were not needed.
Whilst their eyes glanced over those whom they had come across within the Dikastirio, the invaders remained peaceful, blades drawn but unused, as they shifted to permit their leader entrance.
Tall, with a broad shape to his shoulders and a demeanour of square power and stoic doggedness in his step, the invader was slow in his movements but confident of his reception. His gait was one of strength and the sway of his left arm almost lazy as he moved into the room, one hand braced on the pummel of his sword; a blade still sheathed at his hip.
The man wore armour of high quality but dull colour. Like his men, he was clad in no stripes of loyalty, sigils or flags. The leather and metal that had been plated upon him were hewn from shades of darkness and swaths of brown. The helmet he wore upon his head masked most of his face as it swung from one direction to the other taking in the room, the people... the discarded items and fluids on the floor that made it clear what had happened in recent history.
Dark eyes swung back towards Vangelis, having assessed the scenario and come to their accurate conclusion.
Vangelis would have frowned at the intruder not being aware of the king’s clearly planned weakened state if he wasn’t already aware of more than others might not be.
The man raised his hands to lift the helmet from his head but it was too late if he had been hoping to save his identity for its removal. For Vangelis was fully aware of whom this was.
Every muscle in Vangelis’s body fell into a state of weakness, his blade slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor in a manner of surrender he had never before shown an enemy. He was forced to fall back, allowing his rear to meet the edge of the table and his hand to reach out to support himself. His face was a mask of disbelief.
He didn't need the leader of their intruders to remove his helmet to know that his face beneath would be square, with a jutting jaw and a wide brow. His features would be rough in a manner that was not unpleasant but neither truly handsome. His hair would be dark. Curled and thick... Like that of his sons.
Vangelis had no need to see the face beneath the helmet, for his eyes had already noticed the wedding band that hung from a silver chain, as it always had, around that thick neck.
Knowing the man as he knew his own reflection, Vangelis could only watch with lips slightly parted as those features that he had already painted in his mind were revealed and the first words from that mouth set the harsh lines of his lips into a sardonic half smile.
"Watch what you eat, son." King Tython said. His words seeping into the sudden silence of the room. "Colchis can't lose two kings in so many weeks." His eyes flashed with humour. "It's bad for morale."
Were he a young man, new to the trials of what it meant to power through injury and stand when your knees wanted to give way, Vangelis would have never managed to remain on his feet. Standing braced against the table, his eyes closed, his stomach rolling, his ears told him of what was happening around him more than his sight. Specifically, the noise of the door being broken down across the room. One hand held his weight upright from the table, his fingers splayed across its surface. The other was curled around the hilt of his blade in preparation for drawing the rare iron sword from its sheath. Yet, he wasn't at all sure he had the strength to pull it free from its leather cocoon.
As he brought his brow low, his forehead furrowed and his eyes pulled tightly shut, Vangelis swallowed back saliva that tasted of bile and ash and felt his mouth revolt upon him. He wanted to part his lips, to heave once more and rid himself of the taste on his tongue and the clawing feeling of dirt and grit in his middle. Or perhaps just dribble like some incontinent creature on the floor, his taste buds shielded from the nauseating concoction by spit and slime.
Gods, he felt awful.
His head was pounding, his heartbeat feeling sluggish and awkward in his neck, which tensed the muscles down his spine and across his shoulder-blades. His abdomen couldn't be pulled tighter than it was, as his belly refused to accept the invasion of charcoal and whatever else Thea had forced down his throat. He wanted to spit and vomit out everything he possessed but now was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he resisted dampness in his eyes and the noxious feeling that coated his skin in a sheen of sweat and inhaled slowly and steadily through his nose.
His throat was raw and his chest ached with the simple gesture that had been subconscious to him not ten minutes prior, but mentally forbidding himself to consider the ramifications of what could have happened since he last breathed with ease, Vangelis allowed the inflation of his lungs to send his spine straighter and his body upright.
Opening his eyes and turning his attention towards the doors that he could see sported a dark and dangerous split in the oak beam that barred their opening, Vangelis blinked away the last of the weeping in his eyes and settled his feet hip-width apart for a sturdier base. In one swift movement that achieved its result more through practice than strength, the King drew his sword before turning to move with a careful but steady stride down the length of the royal table.
His legs felt like paper, his knees like water and everything from his hips to his shoulders felt like it had been clamped in a vice and heated in a furnace before abruptly being released, weak and uncoordinated. But walking was a practice motion. And if he concentrated hard enough on the wall before him, or the floor beneath his feet, he could perform it without swaying or wobbling on his pins.
Skirting the end of the table, Vangelis was careful to spot who stood where. When the fight broke out, he wanted to be assured he knew friend from foe and given the weakness in his muscles, the ache in his arms and how sluggish his brain clicked over, he wasn't convinced he could rely on his reflexes to tell him. He would need to remember where those he did not wish to harm had positioned themselves.
Dion and his sister stood together, with a small cluster of the Thanasis. Vangelis felt his stomach shift even worse if that was possible for the fact that Athanasia had secured a weapon and appeared in no way willing to leave the room where the danger would be rampant. The tension was eased slightly by the appearance of Stephanos, who took sentry duty beside the girl and her young nephew and Vangelis shared a simply moment of eye contact – King to King – before he turned his attentions once more to keeping his balance.
A King could not appear weakened just before a battle.
No matter how many had witnessed him almost lose his life not a meal ago.
Within a few moments, Vangelis was once more before his own throne, only this time on the room's side of the table. He was pleased that the softer of his family – his mother, his sister-in-law and the women of the Houses were given the defence of the table. His blade was held by his side with deliberance as he would only raise it when required, keeping his strength for the fight ahead.
In the time it had taken him to remove the head table from his path, the militants in the room had turned to action as they had been trained - some by he or one of the prince's personally... some by their superior officers. Yet all were prepared as Colchians were.
Having already barred the entrance upon Vangelis consuming the poison, now they stood awaiting the intruders that tried to barge through it, their ranks steady and their commanders in the lead. Vangelis stood behind the little group but a wide enough path could be found directly from himself to the door. For he had to be allowed to face his own enemies, just as they.
A Captain yelled to place men upon himself and the royal family and he offered only a few hand gestures to ensure that they stood by him rather than before him. There for support and protection over becoming a martyring shield. He did the same with his brother, when Zanon attempted to ensure that Vangelis remained entirely out of fighting range. He remained stubbornly at his brother’s side, determined not to cower.
Another boom shook the room in its echoing assault upon the ears of all inside, as Vangelis settled his feet, gripped the hilt of his blade harder and looked towards the men in the room with a stare of confident granite that seemed to reassure most that their king was alive, well and able to defend those he held dear, regardless of his physical state. The determination in his frame seemed to become contagious around the room as the Colchian way of life steeled spines and secured muscles into a wall of defiance. Like the mountains of their land against all oncoming waves.
With the women hidden away in kitchens or under tables there was little else Vangelis could order be done before the light of the open, night-time air began streaming in through the crack in the doors and with another, single bang of a wave of shoulders, the doors to the Dikastirio broke free.
Shards of the wooden barrier that had stretched across the portal flew in different directions, forcing the men on the front most line to raise their forearms and protect their eyes from flying pieces of wood. Two heavy clatters careened over the floor in a high-pitched protest as the two halves of the barrier itself fell to the ground and the doors gave a reverberant ricochet, smashing into the walls on either side.
Soldiers, clad in nondescript uniforms of brown and black - grunts of no rank or loyalty - fell upon the room, the force of their shoulders sending them through the gates they had smashed free and several harried steps into the chamber.
Once righted in balance, those in front fell back in a simple step of organised tactics, as the men behind - the ones able to have their weapons drawn during the break in - could step in the opposite direction, switching places and bringing themselves to the front. It was a simple manoeuvre that kept those who had broken through safe long enough to draw blades.
Yet, none attacked.
Vangelis watched and waited as the noises of the broken doors - the creaking of the hinges, the sliding, on-edge rasp of broken wood dragging across the stone floor as they swayed - dimmed in the room and the men who had caused the break in simply stared down those who defended against it.
With no determined assault, Vangelis remained silent, not giving the order to attack for his own men were out-matched in terms of weaponry - there was little in the Dikastirio - and had no means of retreat should a battle prove unadvantageous. If these men wanted to stare them down all day then so be it... At least in a few hours he might be able to stop being so aware of his own tongue and feel confident in lifting his blade.
Yet a few hours were not needed.
Whilst their eyes glanced over those whom they had come across within the Dikastirio, the invaders remained peaceful, blades drawn but unused, as they shifted to permit their leader entrance.
Tall, with a broad shape to his shoulders and a demeanour of square power and stoic doggedness in his step, the invader was slow in his movements but confident of his reception. His gait was one of strength and the sway of his left arm almost lazy as he moved into the room, one hand braced on the pummel of his sword; a blade still sheathed at his hip.
The man wore armour of high quality but dull colour. Like his men, he was clad in no stripes of loyalty, sigils or flags. The leather and metal that had been plated upon him were hewn from shades of darkness and swaths of brown. The helmet he wore upon his head masked most of his face as it swung from one direction to the other taking in the room, the people... the discarded items and fluids on the floor that made it clear what had happened in recent history.
Dark eyes swung back towards Vangelis, having assessed the scenario and come to their accurate conclusion.
Vangelis would have frowned at the intruder not being aware of the king’s clearly planned weakened state if he wasn’t already aware of more than others might not be.
The man raised his hands to lift the helmet from his head but it was too late if he had been hoping to save his identity for its removal. For Vangelis was fully aware of whom this was.
Every muscle in Vangelis’s body fell into a state of weakness, his blade slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor in a manner of surrender he had never before shown an enemy. He was forced to fall back, allowing his rear to meet the edge of the table and his hand to reach out to support himself. His face was a mask of disbelief.
He didn't need the leader of their intruders to remove his helmet to know that his face beneath would be square, with a jutting jaw and a wide brow. His features would be rough in a manner that was not unpleasant but neither truly handsome. His hair would be dark. Curled and thick... Like that of his sons.
Vangelis had no need to see the face beneath the helmet, for his eyes had already noticed the wedding band that hung from a silver chain, as it always had, around that thick neck.
Knowing the man as he knew his own reflection, Vangelis could only watch with lips slightly parted as those features that he had already painted in his mind were revealed and the first words from that mouth set the harsh lines of his lips into a sardonic half smile.
"Watch what you eat, son." King Tython said. His words seeping into the sudden silence of the room. "Colchis can't lose two kings in so many weeks." His eyes flashed with humour. "It's bad for morale."
Her father stood next, with Athanasia and Mihail not far away, but Evras had more or less pushed Dion to make sure her whole body shielded her son - there was no way they'd make it to the kitchens in time, and if they tried, they'd just be caught in an even more vulnerable position, which meant Evras would much rather be with her father and everyone else seated at the table. At the very least here, she'd be near enough to make sure that if all else fails, she'd have enough time to deliver Dion to his father, for she would trust Zanon to keep their son safe at least.
And the one growing within her? As if to remind her they still existed, her abdomen gave another twinge yet again, and Evras winced as she nudged Dion to stand further back when yet another loud boom sounded.
The running and stress could not be good, but she'll ask a physician to come and check on her later, Evras finally decided. And if Zanon finds out, well they'd have to deal with it together, because while Evras did not want anyone to figure out first, she now concluded that them finding out was much less of a problem as compared to losing a child to begin with. Not when this was a child very much wanted by both herself and her husband.
Evras could feel her heart rate elevating, the tension palpable within the Dikastirio now eerily silent, all eyes trained upon the cracking main doors of the hall. There could be any number of people eager to take down the crown, in and out of Midas, and with King Tython announced dead just a few weeks prior, and the most recent events involving poison, at this rate, anything could happen.
Looking over her shoulder when Athanasia spoke, briefly Evras flashed a small smile at her sister-in-law - having known the young girl for a decade and more now, she was not at all surprised, for Athanasia had always taken on problems with a bull, and Evras would not be surprised at all if she was a better brawler then her own brother, yet to see the young princess actually exchanging words with Mihail, who was well known to dislike all who carry the Kotas name save herself and Dion, Evras considered that a surprise on this terrifying evening. "Then don't wander far from your brothers at least, Asia. Vangelis could use the help, I'd think. Both of you" the woman tried to convince the princess and her brother, when yet another crack made her attention rivet back to the door.
But what came after was definitely not anything that Evras had imagined. Robbers eager to gain a loot from a hall full of nobles. A group of opposers eager to see a change in the family who led Colchis. But most definitely not a bunch of unmarked men who ran in wielding weapons, yet not using the weapons. Instead, they stared warily at the inhabitants of the Dikastirio, but their actions seemed defensive instead of attacking. So why would they be so ferociously pounding upon the door of the Dikastirio if they were not here to attack?
For a moment, Evras straightened, her eyes flickering briefly to her husband in question, wondering if Zanon would know what was going on. Yet in the process, she saw Vangelis's face, and that made her turn back - only for her jaw to gape when the man who had strolled in for all the world as if he owned the place, took off his helmet. A face too familiar and mourned over the past few weeks.
King Tython was alive.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Her father stood next, with Athanasia and Mihail not far away, but Evras had more or less pushed Dion to make sure her whole body shielded her son - there was no way they'd make it to the kitchens in time, and if they tried, they'd just be caught in an even more vulnerable position, which meant Evras would much rather be with her father and everyone else seated at the table. At the very least here, she'd be near enough to make sure that if all else fails, she'd have enough time to deliver Dion to his father, for she would trust Zanon to keep their son safe at least.
And the one growing within her? As if to remind her they still existed, her abdomen gave another twinge yet again, and Evras winced as she nudged Dion to stand further back when yet another loud boom sounded.
The running and stress could not be good, but she'll ask a physician to come and check on her later, Evras finally decided. And if Zanon finds out, well they'd have to deal with it together, because while Evras did not want anyone to figure out first, she now concluded that them finding out was much less of a problem as compared to losing a child to begin with. Not when this was a child very much wanted by both herself and her husband.
Evras could feel her heart rate elevating, the tension palpable within the Dikastirio now eerily silent, all eyes trained upon the cracking main doors of the hall. There could be any number of people eager to take down the crown, in and out of Midas, and with King Tython announced dead just a few weeks prior, and the most recent events involving poison, at this rate, anything could happen.
Looking over her shoulder when Athanasia spoke, briefly Evras flashed a small smile at her sister-in-law - having known the young girl for a decade and more now, she was not at all surprised, for Athanasia had always taken on problems with a bull, and Evras would not be surprised at all if she was a better brawler then her own brother, yet to see the young princess actually exchanging words with Mihail, who was well known to dislike all who carry the Kotas name save herself and Dion, Evras considered that a surprise on this terrifying evening. "Then don't wander far from your brothers at least, Asia. Vangelis could use the help, I'd think. Both of you" the woman tried to convince the princess and her brother, when yet another crack made her attention rivet back to the door.
But what came after was definitely not anything that Evras had imagined. Robbers eager to gain a loot from a hall full of nobles. A group of opposers eager to see a change in the family who led Colchis. But most definitely not a bunch of unmarked men who ran in wielding weapons, yet not using the weapons. Instead, they stared warily at the inhabitants of the Dikastirio, but their actions seemed defensive instead of attacking. So why would they be so ferociously pounding upon the door of the Dikastirio if they were not here to attack?
For a moment, Evras straightened, her eyes flickering briefly to her husband in question, wondering if Zanon would know what was going on. Yet in the process, she saw Vangelis's face, and that made her turn back - only for her jaw to gape when the man who had strolled in for all the world as if he owned the place, took off his helmet. A face too familiar and mourned over the past few weeks.
King Tython was alive.
Her father stood next, with Athanasia and Mihail not far away, but Evras had more or less pushed Dion to make sure her whole body shielded her son - there was no way they'd make it to the kitchens in time, and if they tried, they'd just be caught in an even more vulnerable position, which meant Evras would much rather be with her father and everyone else seated at the table. At the very least here, she'd be near enough to make sure that if all else fails, she'd have enough time to deliver Dion to his father, for she would trust Zanon to keep their son safe at least.
And the one growing within her? As if to remind her they still existed, her abdomen gave another twinge yet again, and Evras winced as she nudged Dion to stand further back when yet another loud boom sounded.
The running and stress could not be good, but she'll ask a physician to come and check on her later, Evras finally decided. And if Zanon finds out, well they'd have to deal with it together, because while Evras did not want anyone to figure out first, she now concluded that them finding out was much less of a problem as compared to losing a child to begin with. Not when this was a child very much wanted by both herself and her husband.
Evras could feel her heart rate elevating, the tension palpable within the Dikastirio now eerily silent, all eyes trained upon the cracking main doors of the hall. There could be any number of people eager to take down the crown, in and out of Midas, and with King Tython announced dead just a few weeks prior, and the most recent events involving poison, at this rate, anything could happen.
Looking over her shoulder when Athanasia spoke, briefly Evras flashed a small smile at her sister-in-law - having known the young girl for a decade and more now, she was not at all surprised, for Athanasia had always taken on problems with a bull, and Evras would not be surprised at all if she was a better brawler then her own brother, yet to see the young princess actually exchanging words with Mihail, who was well known to dislike all who carry the Kotas name save herself and Dion, Evras considered that a surprise on this terrifying evening. "Then don't wander far from your brothers at least, Asia. Vangelis could use the help, I'd think. Both of you" the woman tried to convince the princess and her brother, when yet another crack made her attention rivet back to the door.
But what came after was definitely not anything that Evras had imagined. Robbers eager to gain a loot from a hall full of nobles. A group of opposers eager to see a change in the family who led Colchis. But most definitely not a bunch of unmarked men who ran in wielding weapons, yet not using the weapons. Instead, they stared warily at the inhabitants of the Dikastirio, but their actions seemed defensive instead of attacking. So why would they be so ferociously pounding upon the door of the Dikastirio if they were not here to attack?
For a moment, Evras straightened, her eyes flickering briefly to her husband in question, wondering if Zanon would know what was going on. Yet in the process, she saw Vangelis's face, and that made her turn back - only for her jaw to gape when the man who had strolled in for all the world as if he owned the place, took off his helmet. A face too familiar and mourned over the past few weeks.
King Tython was alive.
As she took deep breaths, the room seemed to stop spinning. Holding onto the arm of Thea kept her from toppling over, but her head was still in a bit of a fog. There was a heaviness in her chest, but if it was from fear or poison, she wasn’t sure. As time passed, it seemed that the pounding only got louder. It wasn’t until a bowl was being pressed into her hands that she realized that she could hear what was going on around her.
Evras had been right, and she looked to Thea quickly before downing the substance. It was thick on the tongue and tasted like ash, which Selene could only assume had been the charcoal which had been pulled from the fire for the king. She didn’t quite understand why she was taking it, gagging on the thickness. Grabbing a glass from the table, she downed it with water, wiping the black color from her lips as her attention went back to the king.
She knew him well enough to know that he was trying his best to appear stronger than he was really feeling. There was sweat developing on his brow, where as the little amount of effort he’d been displaying should not have caused it. Appearing weak was not an option, and yet as he stood there, she was certain a well placed breeze would push him over. Zanon had demanded that she and Thea remove him from the room, but the blonde Leventi was positive that they would not be able to convince him even if they tried.
”Vangelis...” She started, but her voice was covered by the doors shattering to the ground and she was certain he hadn’t heard her anyway. Whatever she had been planning on saying to him died as the room was filled with nameless, faceless soldiers. Flashes of fire came to mind, and it was close to impossible to keep the current events and that of the circus straight. Was this the same force who had killed Zacharais and his father? Were they coming to collect another king? She was sure she was as white as stone, still gripping tightly onto Thea’s arm. In a panic, her eyes searched out that of her sister and brother in law.
Were they going to kill them, too?
Letting go of Thea, she sank to her knees next to the Queen. Helplessness washed over her as Silas was attempting to pull his mother from behind the table to a safer location. It was only then that an eerie silence filled the room. She had experienced an attack, had remembered the deafening chaos that had come from every corner. But this was… too quiet to be an attack. It wasn’t until she heard the difiniate drop of steel on stone that her mind finally abandoned the thoughts of the circus. Peeking above the table, she saw the older version of Vangelis with the same glint in his eyes as his son carried.
Tython was alive, standing in front of his son. He had known that he was assumed dead, and had stormed his own home to— what, make a point? Selene placed a hand on the Queen’s shoulder, hoping to provide her with a steady, grounding body to hold on to. Not only was her son alive, but her husband was, too.
That was a lot to take in.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
As she took deep breaths, the room seemed to stop spinning. Holding onto the arm of Thea kept her from toppling over, but her head was still in a bit of a fog. There was a heaviness in her chest, but if it was from fear or poison, she wasn’t sure. As time passed, it seemed that the pounding only got louder. It wasn’t until a bowl was being pressed into her hands that she realized that she could hear what was going on around her.
Evras had been right, and she looked to Thea quickly before downing the substance. It was thick on the tongue and tasted like ash, which Selene could only assume had been the charcoal which had been pulled from the fire for the king. She didn’t quite understand why she was taking it, gagging on the thickness. Grabbing a glass from the table, she downed it with water, wiping the black color from her lips as her attention went back to the king.
She knew him well enough to know that he was trying his best to appear stronger than he was really feeling. There was sweat developing on his brow, where as the little amount of effort he’d been displaying should not have caused it. Appearing weak was not an option, and yet as he stood there, she was certain a well placed breeze would push him over. Zanon had demanded that she and Thea remove him from the room, but the blonde Leventi was positive that they would not be able to convince him even if they tried.
”Vangelis...” She started, but her voice was covered by the doors shattering to the ground and she was certain he hadn’t heard her anyway. Whatever she had been planning on saying to him died as the room was filled with nameless, faceless soldiers. Flashes of fire came to mind, and it was close to impossible to keep the current events and that of the circus straight. Was this the same force who had killed Zacharais and his father? Were they coming to collect another king? She was sure she was as white as stone, still gripping tightly onto Thea’s arm. In a panic, her eyes searched out that of her sister and brother in law.
Were they going to kill them, too?
Letting go of Thea, she sank to her knees next to the Queen. Helplessness washed over her as Silas was attempting to pull his mother from behind the table to a safer location. It was only then that an eerie silence filled the room. She had experienced an attack, had remembered the deafening chaos that had come from every corner. But this was… too quiet to be an attack. It wasn’t until she heard the difiniate drop of steel on stone that her mind finally abandoned the thoughts of the circus. Peeking above the table, she saw the older version of Vangelis with the same glint in his eyes as his son carried.
Tython was alive, standing in front of his son. He had known that he was assumed dead, and had stormed his own home to— what, make a point? Selene placed a hand on the Queen’s shoulder, hoping to provide her with a steady, grounding body to hold on to. Not only was her son alive, but her husband was, too.
That was a lot to take in.
As she took deep breaths, the room seemed to stop spinning. Holding onto the arm of Thea kept her from toppling over, but her head was still in a bit of a fog. There was a heaviness in her chest, but if it was from fear or poison, she wasn’t sure. As time passed, it seemed that the pounding only got louder. It wasn’t until a bowl was being pressed into her hands that she realized that she could hear what was going on around her.
Evras had been right, and she looked to Thea quickly before downing the substance. It was thick on the tongue and tasted like ash, which Selene could only assume had been the charcoal which had been pulled from the fire for the king. She didn’t quite understand why she was taking it, gagging on the thickness. Grabbing a glass from the table, she downed it with water, wiping the black color from her lips as her attention went back to the king.
She knew him well enough to know that he was trying his best to appear stronger than he was really feeling. There was sweat developing on his brow, where as the little amount of effort he’d been displaying should not have caused it. Appearing weak was not an option, and yet as he stood there, she was certain a well placed breeze would push him over. Zanon had demanded that she and Thea remove him from the room, but the blonde Leventi was positive that they would not be able to convince him even if they tried.
”Vangelis...” She started, but her voice was covered by the doors shattering to the ground and she was certain he hadn’t heard her anyway. Whatever she had been planning on saying to him died as the room was filled with nameless, faceless soldiers. Flashes of fire came to mind, and it was close to impossible to keep the current events and that of the circus straight. Was this the same force who had killed Zacharais and his father? Were they coming to collect another king? She was sure she was as white as stone, still gripping tightly onto Thea’s arm. In a panic, her eyes searched out that of her sister and brother in law.
Were they going to kill them, too?
Letting go of Thea, she sank to her knees next to the Queen. Helplessness washed over her as Silas was attempting to pull his mother from behind the table to a safer location. It was only then that an eerie silence filled the room. She had experienced an attack, had remembered the deafening chaos that had come from every corner. But this was… too quiet to be an attack. It wasn’t until she heard the difiniate drop of steel on stone that her mind finally abandoned the thoughts of the circus. Peeking above the table, she saw the older version of Vangelis with the same glint in his eyes as his son carried.
Tython was alive, standing in front of his son. He had known that he was assumed dead, and had stormed his own home to— what, make a point? Selene placed a hand on the Queen’s shoulder, hoping to provide her with a steady, grounding body to hold on to. Not only was her son alive, but her husband was, too.