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.
Stephanos didn’t know that Vangelis had ordered Lord Dionysios to be taken not to a prison cell, but to something a lot more comfortable - an Order house. If he had been concerned with anything but the blood pouring from his arm and roaring in his ears, he’d have wholly disagreed with Vangelis’s decision. It didn’t matter to Stephanos that the man was aged or the father to his friend’s lover. Lord Dionysios had attempted to take the life of the king and possibly the kingdom’s only princess. More than that, if the knife wound to his own arm was any indication, the old man could have done serious, irreparable harm to either or both of those persons. Stephanos had much less care for the wayward lord than Vangelis, who was proving to have quite the soft heart while Stephanos felt his own beginning to turn to hardened clay in his chest.
The scent of Pia’s perfume rolled over him in waves and it was both familiar and distracting. He blinked at her, his face pale, sweat beading along his forehead. If they were in battle, this wound wouldn’t be causing him any issues at this precise moment. Adrenaline would still be carrying him through, sword in hand, the heat and frenzy of war all the reason he’d need to keep going, but there wasn’t any of that here. There was nothing to keep his body from putting all of his mind’s attention on this one problem and he watched his wife staunch the blood like it was happening to someone else. He didn’t actually feel most of the pain. That would come later. Everything was small and far away, happening to someone else. Sounds echoed around him and he kept looking at her, trying to keep his attention on her but this chamber was an echoing nightmare and he pulled his gaze away, blinking slowly at the rest of the people who were slowly filing out, idly wondering why more people hadn’t tried to assassinate them when there was such a wonderful chance to do so.
Movement made him look forward again and he saw a man coming up from a bow that was impressive enough, but Stephanos wasn’t in a position to notice. He’d allowed himself to drift away because it was easy and there wasn't a lot tying him to the current situation. Magnus’s face was slightly familiar but not enough for Stephanos to realize who this was with any immediacy. He didn’t catch all of what Magnus was saying to him, but the gist of it got through. He didn’t notice his mother-in-law whispering to his wife, and he didn’t really register if he was leading Pia, or if she was leading him. Either way, they followed Magnus through the emptying chamber, through a side door leading to a much smaller room.
By the time they reached it, Stephanos was feeling more alert, and his arm was throbbing. Sweat coated his face and neck and arms, making him shudder a bit. He sank down into the first chair he came to, leaning heavily on one of the arm rests, still cradling his arm. “Pia,” he nodded for her to sit beside him, not wanting her out of his sight.
One of the servants sent for a physician must have found one very quick, or one was always on hand, or, he further reflected, once the man entered the room, that this one had been sent for the crown prince. Not him. The physician ignored Stephanos right at first, heading to Vangelis, and checking him over. Only once he was done there did he come to Stephanos, who by this time, was gritting his teeth against the roaring burning in his flesh. The edges of the wound prickled and he kept his hand clamped down hard but blood was everywhere, even with his wife’s makeshift bandage. He’d left a glistening trail for anyone to follow and the room smelled of the sweat of four people, mingled with blood from himself and bile still on Vangelis’s clothes. It was gag inducing.
“Fix it,” Stephanos hissed, once the physician finally decided it’d be worth his time to look. To his credit, the man didn’t make a face when he took away the cloth and looked at the open sinew and bone. He simply dug in his bag for ointments and horrid smelling tinctures that masked everything else and began his work.
“Are you going to live?” Stephanos asked Vangelis as a means to distract himself. He didn’t realize who Magnus was or why they were brought in here. He hadn’t heard the news that Magnus had already spoken to the king. Looking away from Vangelis, his gaze bore into Olympia instead as the doctor swiped medicine across his skin and began to bind the wound together with cloth.
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
Stephanos didn’t know that Vangelis had ordered Lord Dionysios to be taken not to a prison cell, but to something a lot more comfortable - an Order house. If he had been concerned with anything but the blood pouring from his arm and roaring in his ears, he’d have wholly disagreed with Vangelis’s decision. It didn’t matter to Stephanos that the man was aged or the father to his friend’s lover. Lord Dionysios had attempted to take the life of the king and possibly the kingdom’s only princess. More than that, if the knife wound to his own arm was any indication, the old man could have done serious, irreparable harm to either or both of those persons. Stephanos had much less care for the wayward lord than Vangelis, who was proving to have quite the soft heart while Stephanos felt his own beginning to turn to hardened clay in his chest.
The scent of Pia’s perfume rolled over him in waves and it was both familiar and distracting. He blinked at her, his face pale, sweat beading along his forehead. If they were in battle, this wound wouldn’t be causing him any issues at this precise moment. Adrenaline would still be carrying him through, sword in hand, the heat and frenzy of war all the reason he’d need to keep going, but there wasn’t any of that here. There was nothing to keep his body from putting all of his mind’s attention on this one problem and he watched his wife staunch the blood like it was happening to someone else. He didn’t actually feel most of the pain. That would come later. Everything was small and far away, happening to someone else. Sounds echoed around him and he kept looking at her, trying to keep his attention on her but this chamber was an echoing nightmare and he pulled his gaze away, blinking slowly at the rest of the people who were slowly filing out, idly wondering why more people hadn’t tried to assassinate them when there was such a wonderful chance to do so.
Movement made him look forward again and he saw a man coming up from a bow that was impressive enough, but Stephanos wasn’t in a position to notice. He’d allowed himself to drift away because it was easy and there wasn't a lot tying him to the current situation. Magnus’s face was slightly familiar but not enough for Stephanos to realize who this was with any immediacy. He didn’t catch all of what Magnus was saying to him, but the gist of it got through. He didn’t notice his mother-in-law whispering to his wife, and he didn’t really register if he was leading Pia, or if she was leading him. Either way, they followed Magnus through the emptying chamber, through a side door leading to a much smaller room.
By the time they reached it, Stephanos was feeling more alert, and his arm was throbbing. Sweat coated his face and neck and arms, making him shudder a bit. He sank down into the first chair he came to, leaning heavily on one of the arm rests, still cradling his arm. “Pia,” he nodded for her to sit beside him, not wanting her out of his sight.
One of the servants sent for a physician must have found one very quick, or one was always on hand, or, he further reflected, once the man entered the room, that this one had been sent for the crown prince. Not him. The physician ignored Stephanos right at first, heading to Vangelis, and checking him over. Only once he was done there did he come to Stephanos, who by this time, was gritting his teeth against the roaring burning in his flesh. The edges of the wound prickled and he kept his hand clamped down hard but blood was everywhere, even with his wife’s makeshift bandage. He’d left a glistening trail for anyone to follow and the room smelled of the sweat of four people, mingled with blood from himself and bile still on Vangelis’s clothes. It was gag inducing.
“Fix it,” Stephanos hissed, once the physician finally decided it’d be worth his time to look. To his credit, the man didn’t make a face when he took away the cloth and looked at the open sinew and bone. He simply dug in his bag for ointments and horrid smelling tinctures that masked everything else and began his work.
“Are you going to live?” Stephanos asked Vangelis as a means to distract himself. He didn’t realize who Magnus was or why they were brought in here. He hadn’t heard the news that Magnus had already spoken to the king. Looking away from Vangelis, his gaze bore into Olympia instead as the doctor swiped medicine across his skin and began to bind the wound together with cloth.
Stephanos didn’t know that Vangelis had ordered Lord Dionysios to be taken not to a prison cell, but to something a lot more comfortable - an Order house. If he had been concerned with anything but the blood pouring from his arm and roaring in his ears, he’d have wholly disagreed with Vangelis’s decision. It didn’t matter to Stephanos that the man was aged or the father to his friend’s lover. Lord Dionysios had attempted to take the life of the king and possibly the kingdom’s only princess. More than that, if the knife wound to his own arm was any indication, the old man could have done serious, irreparable harm to either or both of those persons. Stephanos had much less care for the wayward lord than Vangelis, who was proving to have quite the soft heart while Stephanos felt his own beginning to turn to hardened clay in his chest.
The scent of Pia’s perfume rolled over him in waves and it was both familiar and distracting. He blinked at her, his face pale, sweat beading along his forehead. If they were in battle, this wound wouldn’t be causing him any issues at this precise moment. Adrenaline would still be carrying him through, sword in hand, the heat and frenzy of war all the reason he’d need to keep going, but there wasn’t any of that here. There was nothing to keep his body from putting all of his mind’s attention on this one problem and he watched his wife staunch the blood like it was happening to someone else. He didn’t actually feel most of the pain. That would come later. Everything was small and far away, happening to someone else. Sounds echoed around him and he kept looking at her, trying to keep his attention on her but this chamber was an echoing nightmare and he pulled his gaze away, blinking slowly at the rest of the people who were slowly filing out, idly wondering why more people hadn’t tried to assassinate them when there was such a wonderful chance to do so.
Movement made him look forward again and he saw a man coming up from a bow that was impressive enough, but Stephanos wasn’t in a position to notice. He’d allowed himself to drift away because it was easy and there wasn't a lot tying him to the current situation. Magnus’s face was slightly familiar but not enough for Stephanos to realize who this was with any immediacy. He didn’t catch all of what Magnus was saying to him, but the gist of it got through. He didn’t notice his mother-in-law whispering to his wife, and he didn’t really register if he was leading Pia, or if she was leading him. Either way, they followed Magnus through the emptying chamber, through a side door leading to a much smaller room.
By the time they reached it, Stephanos was feeling more alert, and his arm was throbbing. Sweat coated his face and neck and arms, making him shudder a bit. He sank down into the first chair he came to, leaning heavily on one of the arm rests, still cradling his arm. “Pia,” he nodded for her to sit beside him, not wanting her out of his sight.
One of the servants sent for a physician must have found one very quick, or one was always on hand, or, he further reflected, once the man entered the room, that this one had been sent for the crown prince. Not him. The physician ignored Stephanos right at first, heading to Vangelis, and checking him over. Only once he was done there did he come to Stephanos, who by this time, was gritting his teeth against the roaring burning in his flesh. The edges of the wound prickled and he kept his hand clamped down hard but blood was everywhere, even with his wife’s makeshift bandage. He’d left a glistening trail for anyone to follow and the room smelled of the sweat of four people, mingled with blood from himself and bile still on Vangelis’s clothes. It was gag inducing.
“Fix it,” Stephanos hissed, once the physician finally decided it’d be worth his time to look. To his credit, the man didn’t make a face when he took away the cloth and looked at the open sinew and bone. He simply dug in his bag for ointments and horrid smelling tinctures that masked everything else and began his work.
“Are you going to live?” Stephanos asked Vangelis as a means to distract himself. He didn’t realize who Magnus was or why they were brought in here. He hadn’t heard the news that Magnus had already spoken to the king. Looking away from Vangelis, his gaze bore into Olympia instead as the doctor swiped medicine across his skin and began to bind the wound together with cloth.
The former queen felt more helpless than she had that day in the circus with a knife held to her throat. Stephanos had always been the strong one, saving her, lifting her out of harms way, and now she was unable to help him. Lifting more of the fabric of her chiton she was relieved that it was lose enough to act as tourniquet, though the warm blood her husband was losing still stained through to her hands. Lips trembling as people moved around them and no one came to their aid, she whirled about trying to find someone who could help until they were beckoned away. Relief flooded her, certain that they were on their way to a physician to get help.
Holding tightly to his arm to try to stop the bleeding, she kept as close to his side as she could in the event he started to fall. Not that she could catch him, but perhaps provide some sort of cushion. She caught her mother’s whisper, and nodded in understanding as they were hurried away. Under her breath she was murmuring what she hoped were reassurances, pressing close to his side as they finally sat in the ante chamber. Olympia stayed by Stephanos, taking the opportunity to tie more of her skirts about his arm and trying not to let her stomach turn as she wiped her hands free of his blood.
Her name on his lips set her heart racing, and she settled beside him, brushing fingers gently through his hair and trying to dab the sweat away. The liquid on his forehead mingled with the residual blood on her hands and left streaks that she had to turn away from, laying her arm around his shoulder instead. Another man clearly identifiable as a physician entered and she shifted aside to let him through but stopped as he instead tended to the man who had been king. For all she understood in a way, Vangelis had been cured of his poisoning, and Stephanos was losing far too much blood. Fear and anger combined had her trembling as she glared at the other men, hissing under her breath as more time passed and very nearly launching herself from her perch at his side to drag the doctor over by his neck.
“At least stop his bleeding before you dote. One is past danger, the other is not.”
Though her sharp quip didn’t speed the healer’s approach, when he did finally come to her husband’s side she leaned against Stephanos protectively. They may have fought, but he was all she had left. Her skirts pulled away from the wound revealed something far worse than she had thought, and her stomach turned as she looked away, eyes closed even as one hand still ran through his hair. Only once her nausea was under control did she look back to him, meeting his gaze and pressing a kiss to his forehead. In the past Vangelis had ridiculed them for their behavior, saying that her obvious affection made Stephanos look weak, but she found little care remaining for what the stone prince might think.
“Focus on whether you live, please.” With both of her hands free, the only thing keeping her from slipping fully into Stephanos’ lap was a desire to stay out of the healer’s way. Wiping away sweat from his brow, she looked over her shoulder at the other men in the room, eyes narrowing at Magnus. “Why are we here? Both of them need rest and a doctor’s attention.”
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 former queen felt more helpless than she had that day in the circus with a knife held to her throat. Stephanos had always been the strong one, saving her, lifting her out of harms way, and now she was unable to help him. Lifting more of the fabric of her chiton she was relieved that it was lose enough to act as tourniquet, though the warm blood her husband was losing still stained through to her hands. Lips trembling as people moved around them and no one came to their aid, she whirled about trying to find someone who could help until they were beckoned away. Relief flooded her, certain that they were on their way to a physician to get help.
Holding tightly to his arm to try to stop the bleeding, she kept as close to his side as she could in the event he started to fall. Not that she could catch him, but perhaps provide some sort of cushion. She caught her mother’s whisper, and nodded in understanding as they were hurried away. Under her breath she was murmuring what she hoped were reassurances, pressing close to his side as they finally sat in the ante chamber. Olympia stayed by Stephanos, taking the opportunity to tie more of her skirts about his arm and trying not to let her stomach turn as she wiped her hands free of his blood.
Her name on his lips set her heart racing, and she settled beside him, brushing fingers gently through his hair and trying to dab the sweat away. The liquid on his forehead mingled with the residual blood on her hands and left streaks that she had to turn away from, laying her arm around his shoulder instead. Another man clearly identifiable as a physician entered and she shifted aside to let him through but stopped as he instead tended to the man who had been king. For all she understood in a way, Vangelis had been cured of his poisoning, and Stephanos was losing far too much blood. Fear and anger combined had her trembling as she glared at the other men, hissing under her breath as more time passed and very nearly launching herself from her perch at his side to drag the doctor over by his neck.
“At least stop his bleeding before you dote. One is past danger, the other is not.”
Though her sharp quip didn’t speed the healer’s approach, when he did finally come to her husband’s side she leaned against Stephanos protectively. They may have fought, but he was all she had left. Her skirts pulled away from the wound revealed something far worse than she had thought, and her stomach turned as she looked away, eyes closed even as one hand still ran through his hair. Only once her nausea was under control did she look back to him, meeting his gaze and pressing a kiss to his forehead. In the past Vangelis had ridiculed them for their behavior, saying that her obvious affection made Stephanos look weak, but she found little care remaining for what the stone prince might think.
“Focus on whether you live, please.” With both of her hands free, the only thing keeping her from slipping fully into Stephanos’ lap was a desire to stay out of the healer’s way. Wiping away sweat from his brow, she looked over her shoulder at the other men in the room, eyes narrowing at Magnus. “Why are we here? Both of them need rest and a doctor’s attention.”
The former queen felt more helpless than she had that day in the circus with a knife held to her throat. Stephanos had always been the strong one, saving her, lifting her out of harms way, and now she was unable to help him. Lifting more of the fabric of her chiton she was relieved that it was lose enough to act as tourniquet, though the warm blood her husband was losing still stained through to her hands. Lips trembling as people moved around them and no one came to their aid, she whirled about trying to find someone who could help until they were beckoned away. Relief flooded her, certain that they were on their way to a physician to get help.
Holding tightly to his arm to try to stop the bleeding, she kept as close to his side as she could in the event he started to fall. Not that she could catch him, but perhaps provide some sort of cushion. She caught her mother’s whisper, and nodded in understanding as they were hurried away. Under her breath she was murmuring what she hoped were reassurances, pressing close to his side as they finally sat in the ante chamber. Olympia stayed by Stephanos, taking the opportunity to tie more of her skirts about his arm and trying not to let her stomach turn as she wiped her hands free of his blood.
Her name on his lips set her heart racing, and she settled beside him, brushing fingers gently through his hair and trying to dab the sweat away. The liquid on his forehead mingled with the residual blood on her hands and left streaks that she had to turn away from, laying her arm around his shoulder instead. Another man clearly identifiable as a physician entered and she shifted aside to let him through but stopped as he instead tended to the man who had been king. For all she understood in a way, Vangelis had been cured of his poisoning, and Stephanos was losing far too much blood. Fear and anger combined had her trembling as she glared at the other men, hissing under her breath as more time passed and very nearly launching herself from her perch at his side to drag the doctor over by his neck.
“At least stop his bleeding before you dote. One is past danger, the other is not.”
Though her sharp quip didn’t speed the healer’s approach, when he did finally come to her husband’s side she leaned against Stephanos protectively. They may have fought, but he was all she had left. Her skirts pulled away from the wound revealed something far worse than she had thought, and her stomach turned as she looked away, eyes closed even as one hand still ran through his hair. Only once her nausea was under control did she look back to him, meeting his gaze and pressing a kiss to his forehead. In the past Vangelis had ridiculed them for their behavior, saying that her obvious affection made Stephanos look weak, but she found little care remaining for what the stone prince might think.
“Focus on whether you live, please.” With both of her hands free, the only thing keeping her from slipping fully into Stephanos’ lap was a desire to stay out of the healer’s way. Wiping away sweat from his brow, she looked over her shoulder at the other men in the room, eyes narrowing at Magnus. “Why are we here? Both of them need rest and a doctor’s attention.”
Following his orders, Magnus had never been one to disobey. Afterall, he had climbed the ranks in terms of social hierarchy despite being born a poor merchant's son only because he had done things the way he did. So he dutifully led the two Taengean royals to the back room of the Dikasitirio chamber where he had saw Vangelis disappear into amidst all the ruckus that was going in the main hall, as people had begun to disperse and leave according to the military might of Colchis guiding the noble ranks of the kingdom.
The sounds of the halls got fainter and more muted as he guided them deeper, for the Dikasitirio had been carved out of the famous Colchian mountains itself, that if one was not careful, they could get easily lost. Magnus however, had spent many days within the halls, and they were soon led to a small room whose entrance was a simple door, with iron barricades one could use to lock the door if one needed privacy.
Nudging the door open, the Master Informer guided the injured Taengean king and his wife in, his gaze briefly flickering to the pale face of his own crown prince (not the King anymore, thank the Gods), before he cleared his throat. Obviously, no one here was feeling quite on top of things as he currently was, but it'd have to do. While they could all use some rest, the news he had to deliver was likely highly important to the two visiting royals, and was the reason why Vangelis called them in, he suspected.
Magnus sharply glanced upwards when the doors opened yet again, but his tense body relaxed when a physician came in, holding a box necessary to see to the two injured King's.
What irony. If Magnus had wanted the throne for himself, now would be the perfect time really, for how hard could it be to down two half-ill King's and one queen recovering from giving birth?
It was only to their luck that Magnus was not only loyal, but not at all eager to covet the crown. He had seen first hand how difficult the task of a royal could be, and was quite happy to be a baron of some land one day, if only for Leto's benefit. Had he not had his sister, Magnus would be entirely pleased to continue as Master Informer, but that was a discussion for another day. Instead for now, the Master Informer stepped out to hail a servant, asking them to send for some honeyed wine and fresh water, before stepping back in just in time to see the physician working on the arm of the Taengean king.
They must look quite a sight now, one covered in blood whilst the other in bile, but there were more important matters. As the doors opened and the servant hurried in with the chalice of honeyed wine and fresh water, Magnus picked them both up one in either hand, waved the servant away, and tested both of them to ensure no more poisoning would happen on hand, before handing the water to Vangelis and the honeyed wine to Stephanos. "For the taste, my prince." he murmured to Vangelis, and then turned to Stephanos. "And something to keep your energy after the blood loss, your Highness."
As the queen addressed him, for a moment the Master Informer raised a brow, before he gave what he hoped was a complacent smile, and took a step back to stand at a distance from both princes. "I have news from Taengea, Your Highness." Briefly, his gaze flickered over to Vangelis, and only continued when the crown prince gave a wave of his hand, as weak as it may be from past happenstance. With that, the Master Informer turned his head back to the two, waited for the royal physician to finish his work and leave, the door closing behind before he spoke.
"I attended the wedding of your sister, Queen Olympia. Lady Theodora is now the wife to Crown Prince Achilleas of Mikaelidas... or better known as King Achilleas now. King Irakles died towards the end of the wedding festivities, just as I was about to leave. He dropped to floor, and was pronounced dead in minutes, by what I believe to be a heart ailment. King Achilleas's coronation should be held right this very minute as we speak."
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
Following his orders, Magnus had never been one to disobey. Afterall, he had climbed the ranks in terms of social hierarchy despite being born a poor merchant's son only because he had done things the way he did. So he dutifully led the two Taengean royals to the back room of the Dikasitirio chamber where he had saw Vangelis disappear into amidst all the ruckus that was going in the main hall, as people had begun to disperse and leave according to the military might of Colchis guiding the noble ranks of the kingdom.
The sounds of the halls got fainter and more muted as he guided them deeper, for the Dikasitirio had been carved out of the famous Colchian mountains itself, that if one was not careful, they could get easily lost. Magnus however, had spent many days within the halls, and they were soon led to a small room whose entrance was a simple door, with iron barricades one could use to lock the door if one needed privacy.
Nudging the door open, the Master Informer guided the injured Taengean king and his wife in, his gaze briefly flickering to the pale face of his own crown prince (not the King anymore, thank the Gods), before he cleared his throat. Obviously, no one here was feeling quite on top of things as he currently was, but it'd have to do. While they could all use some rest, the news he had to deliver was likely highly important to the two visiting royals, and was the reason why Vangelis called them in, he suspected.
Magnus sharply glanced upwards when the doors opened yet again, but his tense body relaxed when a physician came in, holding a box necessary to see to the two injured King's.
What irony. If Magnus had wanted the throne for himself, now would be the perfect time really, for how hard could it be to down two half-ill King's and one queen recovering from giving birth?
It was only to their luck that Magnus was not only loyal, but not at all eager to covet the crown. He had seen first hand how difficult the task of a royal could be, and was quite happy to be a baron of some land one day, if only for Leto's benefit. Had he not had his sister, Magnus would be entirely pleased to continue as Master Informer, but that was a discussion for another day. Instead for now, the Master Informer stepped out to hail a servant, asking them to send for some honeyed wine and fresh water, before stepping back in just in time to see the physician working on the arm of the Taengean king.
They must look quite a sight now, one covered in blood whilst the other in bile, but there were more important matters. As the doors opened and the servant hurried in with the chalice of honeyed wine and fresh water, Magnus picked them both up one in either hand, waved the servant away, and tested both of them to ensure no more poisoning would happen on hand, before handing the water to Vangelis and the honeyed wine to Stephanos. "For the taste, my prince." he murmured to Vangelis, and then turned to Stephanos. "And something to keep your energy after the blood loss, your Highness."
As the queen addressed him, for a moment the Master Informer raised a brow, before he gave what he hoped was a complacent smile, and took a step back to stand at a distance from both princes. "I have news from Taengea, Your Highness." Briefly, his gaze flickered over to Vangelis, and only continued when the crown prince gave a wave of his hand, as weak as it may be from past happenstance. With that, the Master Informer turned his head back to the two, waited for the royal physician to finish his work and leave, the door closing behind before he spoke.
"I attended the wedding of your sister, Queen Olympia. Lady Theodora is now the wife to Crown Prince Achilleas of Mikaelidas... or better known as King Achilleas now. King Irakles died towards the end of the wedding festivities, just as I was about to leave. He dropped to floor, and was pronounced dead in minutes, by what I believe to be a heart ailment. King Achilleas's coronation should be held right this very minute as we speak."
Following his orders, Magnus had never been one to disobey. Afterall, he had climbed the ranks in terms of social hierarchy despite being born a poor merchant's son only because he had done things the way he did. So he dutifully led the two Taengean royals to the back room of the Dikasitirio chamber where he had saw Vangelis disappear into amidst all the ruckus that was going in the main hall, as people had begun to disperse and leave according to the military might of Colchis guiding the noble ranks of the kingdom.
The sounds of the halls got fainter and more muted as he guided them deeper, for the Dikasitirio had been carved out of the famous Colchian mountains itself, that if one was not careful, they could get easily lost. Magnus however, had spent many days within the halls, and they were soon led to a small room whose entrance was a simple door, with iron barricades one could use to lock the door if one needed privacy.
Nudging the door open, the Master Informer guided the injured Taengean king and his wife in, his gaze briefly flickering to the pale face of his own crown prince (not the King anymore, thank the Gods), before he cleared his throat. Obviously, no one here was feeling quite on top of things as he currently was, but it'd have to do. While they could all use some rest, the news he had to deliver was likely highly important to the two visiting royals, and was the reason why Vangelis called them in, he suspected.
Magnus sharply glanced upwards when the doors opened yet again, but his tense body relaxed when a physician came in, holding a box necessary to see to the two injured King's.
What irony. If Magnus had wanted the throne for himself, now would be the perfect time really, for how hard could it be to down two half-ill King's and one queen recovering from giving birth?
It was only to their luck that Magnus was not only loyal, but not at all eager to covet the crown. He had seen first hand how difficult the task of a royal could be, and was quite happy to be a baron of some land one day, if only for Leto's benefit. Had he not had his sister, Magnus would be entirely pleased to continue as Master Informer, but that was a discussion for another day. Instead for now, the Master Informer stepped out to hail a servant, asking them to send for some honeyed wine and fresh water, before stepping back in just in time to see the physician working on the arm of the Taengean king.
They must look quite a sight now, one covered in blood whilst the other in bile, but there were more important matters. As the doors opened and the servant hurried in with the chalice of honeyed wine and fresh water, Magnus picked them both up one in either hand, waved the servant away, and tested both of them to ensure no more poisoning would happen on hand, before handing the water to Vangelis and the honeyed wine to Stephanos. "For the taste, my prince." he murmured to Vangelis, and then turned to Stephanos. "And something to keep your energy after the blood loss, your Highness."
As the queen addressed him, for a moment the Master Informer raised a brow, before he gave what he hoped was a complacent smile, and took a step back to stand at a distance from both princes. "I have news from Taengea, Your Highness." Briefly, his gaze flickered over to Vangelis, and only continued when the crown prince gave a wave of his hand, as weak as it may be from past happenstance. With that, the Master Informer turned his head back to the two, waited for the royal physician to finish his work and leave, the door closing behind before he spoke.
"I attended the wedding of your sister, Queen Olympia. Lady Theodora is now the wife to Crown Prince Achilleas of Mikaelidas... or better known as King Achilleas now. King Irakles died towards the end of the wedding festivities, just as I was about to leave. He dropped to floor, and was pronounced dead in minutes, by what I believe to be a heart ailment. King Achilleas's coronation should be held right this very minute as we speak."
Vangelis was trying valiantly to focus. His brain felt foggy, his eye still felt like he had done kind of blurring gauze over them, his vision clearing and then fogging alternately with each blink. His throat felt like fire, his mouth tasted like the stables smelled and his belly was still revolting against him. Not to mention he now had a steaming headache.
In short, he felt as much like the death he had narrowly avoided as it was possible for an alive being to feel.
When the door opened and Magnus entered the room, tailed by the two Taengeans he had sent the man to fetch, Vangelis sat up straighter in his chair. A sharp look from Stephanos upon his person and a comment regarding whether he would live, had Vangelis realising his state of dirtied garments for the first time. Having wiped clean his face, his himation and raiment still suffered a few reminders of his digestive pyrotechnics. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Vangelis reached up to remove the fibulae from his shoulder and shrugged the himation from his frame, removing the most of his assaulted clothes.
Balling the material up and throwing it callously towards the corner of the ante chamber, Vangelis offered a half shrug of his broad shoulders at this friend and rolled his eyes.
"Just about." He assured the man.
When the door was opened again, Vangelis looked up to witness the entrance of the physician he had summoned for Stephanos, looking away as soon as he recognised the familiar face of the royal healer. Only then he was forced to look back around when the physicians hands sought to diagnose and check his prince before the prince's guest.
Irritated but knowing there was little point in arguing with the man, Vangelis simply permitted him to do what he wished, put up no fight so that he might be finished sooner and then waved him towards Stephanos as soon as he seemed mildly satisfied that the crown prince wasn't about to drop dead on him.
Whilst the physician saw to Stephanos, Vangelis was left to deal with the foul taste in his mouth and the hammering in his head, interrupted only by Magnus providing a well timed chalice of water that he accepted with a look of gratitude. Drinking deeply from the belly of the cup, Vangelis' cheeks flared out as she swilled the clean water around his teeth and tongue. Not raised to be so undignified as to spill the remaining mixture to the flagstone floor, Vangelis, instead, swallowed it, thankful for the cleaning it gave to the back of his throat but less so the hard knock it gave his belly. His lips grin back in a grimace if grit teeth at the taste as he took a more refreshing and calmer sip from the rim of the chalice.
Having seen to his own discomfort, Vangelis was far more concerned with that of Stephanos'. Not that it showed on his face. No man that Vangelis knew liked to have his war wounds stared at by another man. They tended to prefer their sympathetic cooing from members of the fairer sex.
When the physician seemed to have cleaned the worse of the blood from Stephanos' arm, however, and Olympia was demanding answers for why they had been brought to such a chamber in the first place, Vangelis waved for Magnus to explain, keeping his own expression devoid of emotion and his mouth hidden behind the edge of his chalice as Magnus succinctly explained the new world order in Taengea.
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
Vangelis was trying valiantly to focus. His brain felt foggy, his eye still felt like he had done kind of blurring gauze over them, his vision clearing and then fogging alternately with each blink. His throat felt like fire, his mouth tasted like the stables smelled and his belly was still revolting against him. Not to mention he now had a steaming headache.
In short, he felt as much like the death he had narrowly avoided as it was possible for an alive being to feel.
When the door opened and Magnus entered the room, tailed by the two Taengeans he had sent the man to fetch, Vangelis sat up straighter in his chair. A sharp look from Stephanos upon his person and a comment regarding whether he would live, had Vangelis realising his state of dirtied garments for the first time. Having wiped clean his face, his himation and raiment still suffered a few reminders of his digestive pyrotechnics. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Vangelis reached up to remove the fibulae from his shoulder and shrugged the himation from his frame, removing the most of his assaulted clothes.
Balling the material up and throwing it callously towards the corner of the ante chamber, Vangelis offered a half shrug of his broad shoulders at this friend and rolled his eyes.
"Just about." He assured the man.
When the door was opened again, Vangelis looked up to witness the entrance of the physician he had summoned for Stephanos, looking away as soon as he recognised the familiar face of the royal healer. Only then he was forced to look back around when the physicians hands sought to diagnose and check his prince before the prince's guest.
Irritated but knowing there was little point in arguing with the man, Vangelis simply permitted him to do what he wished, put up no fight so that he might be finished sooner and then waved him towards Stephanos as soon as he seemed mildly satisfied that the crown prince wasn't about to drop dead on him.
Whilst the physician saw to Stephanos, Vangelis was left to deal with the foul taste in his mouth and the hammering in his head, interrupted only by Magnus providing a well timed chalice of water that he accepted with a look of gratitude. Drinking deeply from the belly of the cup, Vangelis' cheeks flared out as she swilled the clean water around his teeth and tongue. Not raised to be so undignified as to spill the remaining mixture to the flagstone floor, Vangelis, instead, swallowed it, thankful for the cleaning it gave to the back of his throat but less so the hard knock it gave his belly. His lips grin back in a grimace if grit teeth at the taste as he took a more refreshing and calmer sip from the rim of the chalice.
Having seen to his own discomfort, Vangelis was far more concerned with that of Stephanos'. Not that it showed on his face. No man that Vangelis knew liked to have his war wounds stared at by another man. They tended to prefer their sympathetic cooing from members of the fairer sex.
When the physician seemed to have cleaned the worse of the blood from Stephanos' arm, however, and Olympia was demanding answers for why they had been brought to such a chamber in the first place, Vangelis waved for Magnus to explain, keeping his own expression devoid of emotion and his mouth hidden behind the edge of his chalice as Magnus succinctly explained the new world order in Taengea.
Vangelis was trying valiantly to focus. His brain felt foggy, his eye still felt like he had done kind of blurring gauze over them, his vision clearing and then fogging alternately with each blink. His throat felt like fire, his mouth tasted like the stables smelled and his belly was still revolting against him. Not to mention he now had a steaming headache.
In short, he felt as much like the death he had narrowly avoided as it was possible for an alive being to feel.
When the door opened and Magnus entered the room, tailed by the two Taengeans he had sent the man to fetch, Vangelis sat up straighter in his chair. A sharp look from Stephanos upon his person and a comment regarding whether he would live, had Vangelis realising his state of dirtied garments for the first time. Having wiped clean his face, his himation and raiment still suffered a few reminders of his digestive pyrotechnics. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Vangelis reached up to remove the fibulae from his shoulder and shrugged the himation from his frame, removing the most of his assaulted clothes.
Balling the material up and throwing it callously towards the corner of the ante chamber, Vangelis offered a half shrug of his broad shoulders at this friend and rolled his eyes.
"Just about." He assured the man.
When the door was opened again, Vangelis looked up to witness the entrance of the physician he had summoned for Stephanos, looking away as soon as he recognised the familiar face of the royal healer. Only then he was forced to look back around when the physicians hands sought to diagnose and check his prince before the prince's guest.
Irritated but knowing there was little point in arguing with the man, Vangelis simply permitted him to do what he wished, put up no fight so that he might be finished sooner and then waved him towards Stephanos as soon as he seemed mildly satisfied that the crown prince wasn't about to drop dead on him.
Whilst the physician saw to Stephanos, Vangelis was left to deal with the foul taste in his mouth and the hammering in his head, interrupted only by Magnus providing a well timed chalice of water that he accepted with a look of gratitude. Drinking deeply from the belly of the cup, Vangelis' cheeks flared out as she swilled the clean water around his teeth and tongue. Not raised to be so undignified as to spill the remaining mixture to the flagstone floor, Vangelis, instead, swallowed it, thankful for the cleaning it gave to the back of his throat but less so the hard knock it gave his belly. His lips grin back in a grimace if grit teeth at the taste as he took a more refreshing and calmer sip from the rim of the chalice.
Having seen to his own discomfort, Vangelis was far more concerned with that of Stephanos'. Not that it showed on his face. No man that Vangelis knew liked to have his war wounds stared at by another man. They tended to prefer their sympathetic cooing from members of the fairer sex.
When the physician seemed to have cleaned the worse of the blood from Stephanos' arm, however, and Olympia was demanding answers for why they had been brought to such a chamber in the first place, Vangelis waved for Magnus to explain, keeping his own expression devoid of emotion and his mouth hidden behind the edge of his chalice as Magnus succinctly explained the new world order in Taengea.
He leaned his head against his wife’s fingers brushing through his hair, taking comfort from that, despite being surrounded by the other males in the room. One thing Stephanos had never felt was emasculated by a woman’s attention. It was probably the thing he craved most in the entire world and right now, while he was trying to focus on something other than his arm, this was the only soothing he wanted. The doctor worked as quickly as he possibly could and once Stephanos’s arm was bandaged and he wasn’t freely bleeding on everyone and everything, he sat back in his chair, gingerly holding his arm.
Once the physician left, promising to send herbs for pain, Stephanos glanced at Magnus to find him tasting two goblets in his hands, one right after the other. Frowning, Stephanos’s eyes trailed the servant that was also leaving the room. He hadn’t noticed the man slip in with the tray and he blinked rapidly, trying to gauge how out of it he really was. Then, as though to underline that he was drifting in and out of whatever this was, Magnus’s goblet was suddenly at his face and he accepted it without question, not having been aware of the Informer even moving towards him.
“Thank you,” he said in a far away voice, sipping at the wine but, for what felt like the first time in a long time, he didn’t want it. His head was already fuzzy enough. Dragging himself back into the present, he looked to his wife, then Vangelis. He was not at all phased by the latter’s stoney expression. Vangelis rarely expressed emotions on his features and so when he finally looked to Magnus, he was not prepared for the news dropped on him in huge doses.
He’d known Achilleas’s wedding was coming up but this felt soon - too soon, like the dates had been moved up, somehow, though that might not be true. His time as king had been so fraught with danger from the Creed and fighting for control with his uncle that he’d not paid much attention to anything else that didn’t directly involve himself. There was barely time to process that his cousin was married. That was odd, and then the title of crown prince was a little choking, even though Stephanos had already thought on it endlessly while on the ship. Irakles had no doubt declared himself king in the interim and then of course, that would move his cousins into the positions of princes. False princes, but still. That was...expected. Galling, but expected.
Stephanos was just taking a drink when Magnus clarified that Achilleas was king. It was said so bluntly that for just a second, Stephanos missed it, but within a moment, he was choking on his wine. The coughing hurt his chest and he tried valiantly to clear his airway, ramming his fist against his chest, eyes watering, glaring at Magnus. “What?” he demanded in a croak. “King? Wha-When? How?” All of this was said over Magnus informing him that Irakles was dead, to which Stephanos surged to his feet.
“He’s WHAT!?” he thundered, his voice echoing off the walls of the small chamber. “No!” he shouted, as though that would stop a coronation hundreds of miles away. Blood roared in his ears, his hands curled into fists. His breathing came in short pants as he tongued his lower lip, dropping his eyes to the floor, thinking. Then he shook his head and held up a finger to Magnus.
“No, Irakles is not dead,” he said, as though he could will that bastard back to life. “I haven’t murdered him. He can’t do this to me.” His heart beat so fast he felt dizzy. The world was spinning and all he could think, over and over, as that he hadn’t stabbed Irakles and that meant, because he hadn’t done that, his uncle wasn’t dead. Logic, when it finally took over, would dictate that Magnus had no reason to lie and that this kind of joke would never be played on him. But right now, Stephanos was anything but rational and he grinned at Magnus, his eyes wild, his pupils mere pinpricks, and laughed.
“Good joke,” he forced his voice to be lighter than he felt and he pretended that he wasn’t in danger of swaying on the spot. “But that fucking asshole is still waiting for me to come stab him in his chest.”
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
He leaned his head against his wife’s fingers brushing through his hair, taking comfort from that, despite being surrounded by the other males in the room. One thing Stephanos had never felt was emasculated by a woman’s attention. It was probably the thing he craved most in the entire world and right now, while he was trying to focus on something other than his arm, this was the only soothing he wanted. The doctor worked as quickly as he possibly could and once Stephanos’s arm was bandaged and he wasn’t freely bleeding on everyone and everything, he sat back in his chair, gingerly holding his arm.
Once the physician left, promising to send herbs for pain, Stephanos glanced at Magnus to find him tasting two goblets in his hands, one right after the other. Frowning, Stephanos’s eyes trailed the servant that was also leaving the room. He hadn’t noticed the man slip in with the tray and he blinked rapidly, trying to gauge how out of it he really was. Then, as though to underline that he was drifting in and out of whatever this was, Magnus’s goblet was suddenly at his face and he accepted it without question, not having been aware of the Informer even moving towards him.
“Thank you,” he said in a far away voice, sipping at the wine but, for what felt like the first time in a long time, he didn’t want it. His head was already fuzzy enough. Dragging himself back into the present, he looked to his wife, then Vangelis. He was not at all phased by the latter’s stoney expression. Vangelis rarely expressed emotions on his features and so when he finally looked to Magnus, he was not prepared for the news dropped on him in huge doses.
He’d known Achilleas’s wedding was coming up but this felt soon - too soon, like the dates had been moved up, somehow, though that might not be true. His time as king had been so fraught with danger from the Creed and fighting for control with his uncle that he’d not paid much attention to anything else that didn’t directly involve himself. There was barely time to process that his cousin was married. That was odd, and then the title of crown prince was a little choking, even though Stephanos had already thought on it endlessly while on the ship. Irakles had no doubt declared himself king in the interim and then of course, that would move his cousins into the positions of princes. False princes, but still. That was...expected. Galling, but expected.
Stephanos was just taking a drink when Magnus clarified that Achilleas was king. It was said so bluntly that for just a second, Stephanos missed it, but within a moment, he was choking on his wine. The coughing hurt his chest and he tried valiantly to clear his airway, ramming his fist against his chest, eyes watering, glaring at Magnus. “What?” he demanded in a croak. “King? Wha-When? How?” All of this was said over Magnus informing him that Irakles was dead, to which Stephanos surged to his feet.
“He’s WHAT!?” he thundered, his voice echoing off the walls of the small chamber. “No!” he shouted, as though that would stop a coronation hundreds of miles away. Blood roared in his ears, his hands curled into fists. His breathing came in short pants as he tongued his lower lip, dropping his eyes to the floor, thinking. Then he shook his head and held up a finger to Magnus.
“No, Irakles is not dead,” he said, as though he could will that bastard back to life. “I haven’t murdered him. He can’t do this to me.” His heart beat so fast he felt dizzy. The world was spinning and all he could think, over and over, as that he hadn’t stabbed Irakles and that meant, because he hadn’t done that, his uncle wasn’t dead. Logic, when it finally took over, would dictate that Magnus had no reason to lie and that this kind of joke would never be played on him. But right now, Stephanos was anything but rational and he grinned at Magnus, his eyes wild, his pupils mere pinpricks, and laughed.
“Good joke,” he forced his voice to be lighter than he felt and he pretended that he wasn’t in danger of swaying on the spot. “But that fucking asshole is still waiting for me to come stab him in his chest.”
He leaned his head against his wife’s fingers brushing through his hair, taking comfort from that, despite being surrounded by the other males in the room. One thing Stephanos had never felt was emasculated by a woman’s attention. It was probably the thing he craved most in the entire world and right now, while he was trying to focus on something other than his arm, this was the only soothing he wanted. The doctor worked as quickly as he possibly could and once Stephanos’s arm was bandaged and he wasn’t freely bleeding on everyone and everything, he sat back in his chair, gingerly holding his arm.
Once the physician left, promising to send herbs for pain, Stephanos glanced at Magnus to find him tasting two goblets in his hands, one right after the other. Frowning, Stephanos’s eyes trailed the servant that was also leaving the room. He hadn’t noticed the man slip in with the tray and he blinked rapidly, trying to gauge how out of it he really was. Then, as though to underline that he was drifting in and out of whatever this was, Magnus’s goblet was suddenly at his face and he accepted it without question, not having been aware of the Informer even moving towards him.
“Thank you,” he said in a far away voice, sipping at the wine but, for what felt like the first time in a long time, he didn’t want it. His head was already fuzzy enough. Dragging himself back into the present, he looked to his wife, then Vangelis. He was not at all phased by the latter’s stoney expression. Vangelis rarely expressed emotions on his features and so when he finally looked to Magnus, he was not prepared for the news dropped on him in huge doses.
He’d known Achilleas’s wedding was coming up but this felt soon - too soon, like the dates had been moved up, somehow, though that might not be true. His time as king had been so fraught with danger from the Creed and fighting for control with his uncle that he’d not paid much attention to anything else that didn’t directly involve himself. There was barely time to process that his cousin was married. That was odd, and then the title of crown prince was a little choking, even though Stephanos had already thought on it endlessly while on the ship. Irakles had no doubt declared himself king in the interim and then of course, that would move his cousins into the positions of princes. False princes, but still. That was...expected. Galling, but expected.
Stephanos was just taking a drink when Magnus clarified that Achilleas was king. It was said so bluntly that for just a second, Stephanos missed it, but within a moment, he was choking on his wine. The coughing hurt his chest and he tried valiantly to clear his airway, ramming his fist against his chest, eyes watering, glaring at Magnus. “What?” he demanded in a croak. “King? Wha-When? How?” All of this was said over Magnus informing him that Irakles was dead, to which Stephanos surged to his feet.
“He’s WHAT!?” he thundered, his voice echoing off the walls of the small chamber. “No!” he shouted, as though that would stop a coronation hundreds of miles away. Blood roared in his ears, his hands curled into fists. His breathing came in short pants as he tongued his lower lip, dropping his eyes to the floor, thinking. Then he shook his head and held up a finger to Magnus.
“No, Irakles is not dead,” he said, as though he could will that bastard back to life. “I haven’t murdered him. He can’t do this to me.” His heart beat so fast he felt dizzy. The world was spinning and all he could think, over and over, as that he hadn’t stabbed Irakles and that meant, because he hadn’t done that, his uncle wasn’t dead. Logic, when it finally took over, would dictate that Magnus had no reason to lie and that this kind of joke would never be played on him. But right now, Stephanos was anything but rational and he grinned at Magnus, his eyes wild, his pupils mere pinpricks, and laughed.
“Good joke,” he forced his voice to be lighter than he felt and he pretended that he wasn’t in danger of swaying on the spot. “But that fucking asshole is still waiting for me to come stab him in his chest.”
While Magnus was no expecting a calm, quiet acceptance of the news, he definitely was not expecting such an explosive denial from the exiled King of Taengea. The man's eyes widened as he stared at the thundering blond playboy King, the voice bouncing off the cavern, made all the more louder due to the lack of sound absorbing material in the barren room.
"I can assure you, Your Highness, that the late King Irakles is most definitely dead. I'm.... sorry, but I saw it myself, before I left the shores of your Kingdom." he murmured, with a hint of sympathy in his voice. He could see how despaired Stephanos was to be in so much denial, how eager he was to drive the killing blow himself. Hesitantly, Magnus glanced over at Vangelis, before he continued. "I'm afraid this isn't a joke. The role of Head of House will be passed on to your other cousin, Prince Emilios. The princesses and your mother will remain in the palati for now, if I'm not mistaken, but I do not know on any further plans to be made, at least not for now." He had just arrived on Colchian shores afterall, if his informants had any more information for him, they would likely only start arriving on the morrow.
"But there is more," he continued, once the reactions to the confirmation of the Taengean news had passed. Magnus had paused, ensuring that enough time had passed for the two Taengean royals to settle themselves, before finishing his sentence. "The Egyptians who visited? They did not return in good faith, Your Highness. Ships are being amassed in huge numbers... it would seem we face imminent war."
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
While Magnus was no expecting a calm, quiet acceptance of the news, he definitely was not expecting such an explosive denial from the exiled King of Taengea. The man's eyes widened as he stared at the thundering blond playboy King, the voice bouncing off the cavern, made all the more louder due to the lack of sound absorbing material in the barren room.
"I can assure you, Your Highness, that the late King Irakles is most definitely dead. I'm.... sorry, but I saw it myself, before I left the shores of your Kingdom." he murmured, with a hint of sympathy in his voice. He could see how despaired Stephanos was to be in so much denial, how eager he was to drive the killing blow himself. Hesitantly, Magnus glanced over at Vangelis, before he continued. "I'm afraid this isn't a joke. The role of Head of House will be passed on to your other cousin, Prince Emilios. The princesses and your mother will remain in the palati for now, if I'm not mistaken, but I do not know on any further plans to be made, at least not for now." He had just arrived on Colchian shores afterall, if his informants had any more information for him, they would likely only start arriving on the morrow.
"But there is more," he continued, once the reactions to the confirmation of the Taengean news had passed. Magnus had paused, ensuring that enough time had passed for the two Taengean royals to settle themselves, before finishing his sentence. "The Egyptians who visited? They did not return in good faith, Your Highness. Ships are being amassed in huge numbers... it would seem we face imminent war."
While Magnus was no expecting a calm, quiet acceptance of the news, he definitely was not expecting such an explosive denial from the exiled King of Taengea. The man's eyes widened as he stared at the thundering blond playboy King, the voice bouncing off the cavern, made all the more louder due to the lack of sound absorbing material in the barren room.
"I can assure you, Your Highness, that the late King Irakles is most definitely dead. I'm.... sorry, but I saw it myself, before I left the shores of your Kingdom." he murmured, with a hint of sympathy in his voice. He could see how despaired Stephanos was to be in so much denial, how eager he was to drive the killing blow himself. Hesitantly, Magnus glanced over at Vangelis, before he continued. "I'm afraid this isn't a joke. The role of Head of House will be passed on to your other cousin, Prince Emilios. The princesses and your mother will remain in the palati for now, if I'm not mistaken, but I do not know on any further plans to be made, at least not for now." He had just arrived on Colchian shores afterall, if his informants had any more information for him, they would likely only start arriving on the morrow.
"But there is more," he continued, once the reactions to the confirmation of the Taengean news had passed. Magnus had paused, ensuring that enough time had passed for the two Taengean royals to settle themselves, before finishing his sentence. "The Egyptians who visited? They did not return in good faith, Your Highness. Ships are being amassed in huge numbers... it would seem we face imminent war."
As her husband leaned against her, she continued to brush her fingers through his hair, hoping he couldn't tell just how shaky she was as the physician finally began to tend to him. Looking away from the wound, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, resting there for a short moment of stolen intimacy that they hadn't had in too long. However many people were watching, the situation they were in, it didn't matter, she'd nearly lost him again and it wasn't something she could live through.
The news the master informer of Colchis gave them fell in a sort of echo on her ears as Stephanos reacted violently, the cough shaking her away from his side as she tried to determine if it was due to poison or shock. Her greatest fear was that the wine was another attempt at getting rid of the two kings in the room. No, one king. Or, she supposed now, none. As Stephanos roared in anger, she let the news sink in and settled into the seat he had vacated, staring to the wall opposite her.
In her whole life, she had always been stuck in the middle. Not as beautiful or goddess blessed as the elder two, not as young and impressionable as the younger two. It had taken her own cunning and clawing and determination to get out of the invisible post between the other four. She'd done things she wasn't proud of, in the hopes of getting the man she desired, the one who was now raging at his uncle's passing before her. All she had wanted was to be his wife, a princess, living in ease and comfort. Then the gods had decided to take her wish and twist it into the cruelest joke imaginable. Made queen, wife, an expectant mother, given more than she could have ever hoped for. Only to have it all torn away and thrown down to far lower than she had ever been before.
"So. My sister is queen. Again, she is in my place."
There was a sort of quiet calm in her stillness, eyes vacant and hollow as her lips spread into a grimace and she laughed. Perhaps that was what the gods wanted, to have her laugh at their joke. If that happened, maybe they would let her go. Let her finally just breathe without fear again. There was no humor in the sound that left her, the additional news of war with Egypt simply another stone to sink her.
"The general wished me a safe delivery. Selene said so. He brought you a horse. Whatever Irakles did, this war is his error, not ours."
It seemed trivial now, and the light vagueness to her tone seemed to carry her to her feet, reaching for her king's shoulder. He was far too wild for a man who had lost so much blood recently.
"Come, my love. You need to rest."
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 her husband leaned against her, she continued to brush her fingers through his hair, hoping he couldn't tell just how shaky she was as the physician finally began to tend to him. Looking away from the wound, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, resting there for a short moment of stolen intimacy that they hadn't had in too long. However many people were watching, the situation they were in, it didn't matter, she'd nearly lost him again and it wasn't something she could live through.
The news the master informer of Colchis gave them fell in a sort of echo on her ears as Stephanos reacted violently, the cough shaking her away from his side as she tried to determine if it was due to poison or shock. Her greatest fear was that the wine was another attempt at getting rid of the two kings in the room. No, one king. Or, she supposed now, none. As Stephanos roared in anger, she let the news sink in and settled into the seat he had vacated, staring to the wall opposite her.
In her whole life, she had always been stuck in the middle. Not as beautiful or goddess blessed as the elder two, not as young and impressionable as the younger two. It had taken her own cunning and clawing and determination to get out of the invisible post between the other four. She'd done things she wasn't proud of, in the hopes of getting the man she desired, the one who was now raging at his uncle's passing before her. All she had wanted was to be his wife, a princess, living in ease and comfort. Then the gods had decided to take her wish and twist it into the cruelest joke imaginable. Made queen, wife, an expectant mother, given more than she could have ever hoped for. Only to have it all torn away and thrown down to far lower than she had ever been before.
"So. My sister is queen. Again, she is in my place."
There was a sort of quiet calm in her stillness, eyes vacant and hollow as her lips spread into a grimace and she laughed. Perhaps that was what the gods wanted, to have her laugh at their joke. If that happened, maybe they would let her go. Let her finally just breathe without fear again. There was no humor in the sound that left her, the additional news of war with Egypt simply another stone to sink her.
"The general wished me a safe delivery. Selene said so. He brought you a horse. Whatever Irakles did, this war is his error, not ours."
It seemed trivial now, and the light vagueness to her tone seemed to carry her to her feet, reaching for her king's shoulder. He was far too wild for a man who had lost so much blood recently.
"Come, my love. You need to rest."
As her husband leaned against her, she continued to brush her fingers through his hair, hoping he couldn't tell just how shaky she was as the physician finally began to tend to him. Looking away from the wound, she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, resting there for a short moment of stolen intimacy that they hadn't had in too long. However many people were watching, the situation they were in, it didn't matter, she'd nearly lost him again and it wasn't something she could live through.
The news the master informer of Colchis gave them fell in a sort of echo on her ears as Stephanos reacted violently, the cough shaking her away from his side as she tried to determine if it was due to poison or shock. Her greatest fear was that the wine was another attempt at getting rid of the two kings in the room. No, one king. Or, she supposed now, none. As Stephanos roared in anger, she let the news sink in and settled into the seat he had vacated, staring to the wall opposite her.
In her whole life, she had always been stuck in the middle. Not as beautiful or goddess blessed as the elder two, not as young and impressionable as the younger two. It had taken her own cunning and clawing and determination to get out of the invisible post between the other four. She'd done things she wasn't proud of, in the hopes of getting the man she desired, the one who was now raging at his uncle's passing before her. All she had wanted was to be his wife, a princess, living in ease and comfort. Then the gods had decided to take her wish and twist it into the cruelest joke imaginable. Made queen, wife, an expectant mother, given more than she could have ever hoped for. Only to have it all torn away and thrown down to far lower than she had ever been before.
"So. My sister is queen. Again, she is in my place."
There was a sort of quiet calm in her stillness, eyes vacant and hollow as her lips spread into a grimace and she laughed. Perhaps that was what the gods wanted, to have her laugh at their joke. If that happened, maybe they would let her go. Let her finally just breathe without fear again. There was no humor in the sound that left her, the additional news of war with Egypt simply another stone to sink her.
"The general wished me a safe delivery. Selene said so. He brought you a horse. Whatever Irakles did, this war is his error, not ours."
It seemed trivial now, and the light vagueness to her tone seemed to carry her to her feet, reaching for her king's shoulder. He was far too wild for a man who had lost so much blood recently.
"Come, my love. You need to rest."
When Stephanos exploded with anger over the death of the man he himself had wanted to kill, Vangelis couldn't say he empathised with the feeling. Even when he had thought himself fatherless, his thoughts had turned to justice more than what Stephanos seemed to be expression: vengeance. Perhaps that came from being raised in so militant and stoic a culture, over the more emotional Taengean upbringing. When you were raised to expect death every time you or a loved one left your home, city or shore, then it became easy to treat all loss as a means of course - a way of the world. Sad, yes, but tragic no. Those who died in military service, fighting for the strength of their kingdom were heroes due to be honoured in Hades. And those who had slayed them would be given equal welcomes of heroism, provided that they had enacted the killing with honour, dignity and valour.
There was no logic in getting angry when you had already agreed to the terms of engagement.
Yet, the conflict between Stephanos and his uncle wasn't war. It was personal. And while Vangelis could not say he shared the man's feelings and was sympathetic, he could at least understand the logic behind it. This way in which Irakles has snatched the throne and yet immediately lost it to the grip of death, gave Stephanos no redemption of his reputation and no closure for his anger.
Perhaps, when the man was in a calmer state of mind, Vangelis would point out that Irakles' single and most focused desire had been the take the throne. And while it hadn't then fallen to who Stephanos would want, the fact that he had only been able to retain it a few short weeks - longer than Stephanos certainly had - would have been a horrendous frustration to his uncle. Perhaps Stephanos could take some small comfort in that comeuppance.
Vangelis listened to the information Magnus gave in relation to Egypt. Whilst he had not heard of Irakles' death until the man had walked into the Dikastirio a few minutes ago, this second piece of news - though more specific than his knowledge - was nothing he didn't already expect. From his overhearing of the conversation between Osorsen H'Moghdam and his cousin Imeeya, he had feared that such an eventuality would come to pass and Magnus was only confirming that expectation. Vangelis had already sent out letters of summoning to his captains across the kingdom to have them converge on Midas within the week. He would be holding such a meet soon and be able to devise Colchis' part in a war between Egypt and their brothers by treaty in the south.
In response to Magnus' words, knowing that he had already set wheels in motion in preparation for the revelation, Vangelis only nodded, his expression blank and his eyes focused but unemotional. Olympia's words rolled off of him as he personally felt that - blame or no - the reason for Egypt's scenting of weakness was Stephanos' absence. An absentee king meant a weakened kingdom. One in the middle of a coup or a change of leadership. It was the best time to attack. But there was no sense in blaming Irakles for locking Stephanos away or Stephanos for being locked away. Regardless, it looked as if war was upon them. And, in Vangelis' eye, it didn't matter how it had come about or who was to blame. Speculation of the past only clouded preparation for the future...
When Olympia made to encourage the exiled king to rise and return to their rooms where he could rest, Vangelis braced his hands upon his knees and pushed himself to standing. Frustrated at the whirling, sickening motion in his head and the slight weaving of his large frame, Vangelis locked down his muscles and held himself solid through more will power than actual strength.
"A word, before you retire, Stephanos?"
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
When Stephanos exploded with anger over the death of the man he himself had wanted to kill, Vangelis couldn't say he empathised with the feeling. Even when he had thought himself fatherless, his thoughts had turned to justice more than what Stephanos seemed to be expression: vengeance. Perhaps that came from being raised in so militant and stoic a culture, over the more emotional Taengean upbringing. When you were raised to expect death every time you or a loved one left your home, city or shore, then it became easy to treat all loss as a means of course - a way of the world. Sad, yes, but tragic no. Those who died in military service, fighting for the strength of their kingdom were heroes due to be honoured in Hades. And those who had slayed them would be given equal welcomes of heroism, provided that they had enacted the killing with honour, dignity and valour.
There was no logic in getting angry when you had already agreed to the terms of engagement.
Yet, the conflict between Stephanos and his uncle wasn't war. It was personal. And while Vangelis could not say he shared the man's feelings and was sympathetic, he could at least understand the logic behind it. This way in which Irakles has snatched the throne and yet immediately lost it to the grip of death, gave Stephanos no redemption of his reputation and no closure for his anger.
Perhaps, when the man was in a calmer state of mind, Vangelis would point out that Irakles' single and most focused desire had been the take the throne. And while it hadn't then fallen to who Stephanos would want, the fact that he had only been able to retain it a few short weeks - longer than Stephanos certainly had - would have been a horrendous frustration to his uncle. Perhaps Stephanos could take some small comfort in that comeuppance.
Vangelis listened to the information Magnus gave in relation to Egypt. Whilst he had not heard of Irakles' death until the man had walked into the Dikastirio a few minutes ago, this second piece of news - though more specific than his knowledge - was nothing he didn't already expect. From his overhearing of the conversation between Osorsen H'Moghdam and his cousin Imeeya, he had feared that such an eventuality would come to pass and Magnus was only confirming that expectation. Vangelis had already sent out letters of summoning to his captains across the kingdom to have them converge on Midas within the week. He would be holding such a meet soon and be able to devise Colchis' part in a war between Egypt and their brothers by treaty in the south.
In response to Magnus' words, knowing that he had already set wheels in motion in preparation for the revelation, Vangelis only nodded, his expression blank and his eyes focused but unemotional. Olympia's words rolled off of him as he personally felt that - blame or no - the reason for Egypt's scenting of weakness was Stephanos' absence. An absentee king meant a weakened kingdom. One in the middle of a coup or a change of leadership. It was the best time to attack. But there was no sense in blaming Irakles for locking Stephanos away or Stephanos for being locked away. Regardless, it looked as if war was upon them. And, in Vangelis' eye, it didn't matter how it had come about or who was to blame. Speculation of the past only clouded preparation for the future...
When Olympia made to encourage the exiled king to rise and return to their rooms where he could rest, Vangelis braced his hands upon his knees and pushed himself to standing. Frustrated at the whirling, sickening motion in his head and the slight weaving of his large frame, Vangelis locked down his muscles and held himself solid through more will power than actual strength.
"A word, before you retire, Stephanos?"
When Stephanos exploded with anger over the death of the man he himself had wanted to kill, Vangelis couldn't say he empathised with the feeling. Even when he had thought himself fatherless, his thoughts had turned to justice more than what Stephanos seemed to be expression: vengeance. Perhaps that came from being raised in so militant and stoic a culture, over the more emotional Taengean upbringing. When you were raised to expect death every time you or a loved one left your home, city or shore, then it became easy to treat all loss as a means of course - a way of the world. Sad, yes, but tragic no. Those who died in military service, fighting for the strength of their kingdom were heroes due to be honoured in Hades. And those who had slayed them would be given equal welcomes of heroism, provided that they had enacted the killing with honour, dignity and valour.
There was no logic in getting angry when you had already agreed to the terms of engagement.
Yet, the conflict between Stephanos and his uncle wasn't war. It was personal. And while Vangelis could not say he shared the man's feelings and was sympathetic, he could at least understand the logic behind it. This way in which Irakles has snatched the throne and yet immediately lost it to the grip of death, gave Stephanos no redemption of his reputation and no closure for his anger.
Perhaps, when the man was in a calmer state of mind, Vangelis would point out that Irakles' single and most focused desire had been the take the throne. And while it hadn't then fallen to who Stephanos would want, the fact that he had only been able to retain it a few short weeks - longer than Stephanos certainly had - would have been a horrendous frustration to his uncle. Perhaps Stephanos could take some small comfort in that comeuppance.
Vangelis listened to the information Magnus gave in relation to Egypt. Whilst he had not heard of Irakles' death until the man had walked into the Dikastirio a few minutes ago, this second piece of news - though more specific than his knowledge - was nothing he didn't already expect. From his overhearing of the conversation between Osorsen H'Moghdam and his cousin Imeeya, he had feared that such an eventuality would come to pass and Magnus was only confirming that expectation. Vangelis had already sent out letters of summoning to his captains across the kingdom to have them converge on Midas within the week. He would be holding such a meet soon and be able to devise Colchis' part in a war between Egypt and their brothers by treaty in the south.
In response to Magnus' words, knowing that he had already set wheels in motion in preparation for the revelation, Vangelis only nodded, his expression blank and his eyes focused but unemotional. Olympia's words rolled off of him as he personally felt that - blame or no - the reason for Egypt's scenting of weakness was Stephanos' absence. An absentee king meant a weakened kingdom. One in the middle of a coup or a change of leadership. It was the best time to attack. But there was no sense in blaming Irakles for locking Stephanos away or Stephanos for being locked away. Regardless, it looked as if war was upon them. And, in Vangelis' eye, it didn't matter how it had come about or who was to blame. Speculation of the past only clouded preparation for the future...
When Olympia made to encourage the exiled king to rise and return to their rooms where he could rest, Vangelis braced his hands upon his knees and pushed himself to standing. Frustrated at the whirling, sickening motion in his head and the slight weaving of his large frame, Vangelis locked down his muscles and held himself solid through more will power than actual strength.
"A word, before you retire, Stephanos?"
Magnus’s further assurances were the douse of frigid water Stephanos needed but didn’t want. His laughter died as it had begun, sharply and abrupt. Too many emotions and images were pressing in on him at once. The shock of being stabbed had already set in and was making him unbalanced emotionally and physically, making his already easily riled temper worse. He was barely listening as Magnus outlined how the functions of the House would break down. It was as expected and therefore, of no immediate concern. What did swipe him out from under the momentary calm was the news that Irakles had managed to entirely screw up the meet with the Egyptians. The one where they were supposed to be renewing friendship. Of course. Stephanos didn’t think for a second that was by accident, either. The glory hound general had wanted to cement his reign in the blood of soldiers in some pointless goal of immortality.
With every breath he sucked in through his nose, hatred for the deceased Irakles seethed through his gritted teeth. Rather than Magnus’s face, he saw Irakles’s, with that handsome, infuriating smile the man had been known for. He wished he’d punched in his uncle’s teeth instead of the Creed leader. It would have been better. Just walk in his room and commit the murder he’d already had to run for. Why had he waited? Why had he tried to play fair? Why had he attempted to be a good person? It hadn’t gotten him what he’d wanted or needed. It hadn’t saved him or Olympia, or anyone else. If he’d done what he wanted, and murdered Irakles, everything would now be the same and he’d have his revenge to keep him company. Now? The horrible truth that he would never, ever, best his uncle. The chance was gone.
Pia pulled on him and he blinked. Magnus was back and Stephanos looked around at Vangelis, oddly surprised to find him still there. "The general wished me a safe delivery. Selene said so. He brought you a horse. Whatever Irakles did, this war is his error, not ours."
“What?” Stephanos caught something about Irakles’s horse. He looked down at her hand on his shoulder, confused about that, too.
"Come, my love. You need to rest." Her voice was unemotional and it was enough to finally subdue the rage he’d had. His wife was small and that was something Stephanos always bore in mind; that he could hurt her on accident and should not. So when she touched him, rather than riling him further, it reminded him to calm down, or else the temper that threatened violence could be turned where he least wanted it to go. Though, in his current state, no one, not even her, was in much danger. He didn’t have the strength or coordination. Perhaps in a blind, battle rage, but not now that the adrenaline was gone.
"A word, before you retire, Stephanos?" Vangelis rumbled at him and Stephanos pulled Pia’s hand from his shoulder but didn’t actually let it go. He kept hold of her with his good hand and half tugged her with him over to the prince, who Stephanos was now vaguely concerned might fall back into the chair he’d just vacated.
“We’re a mess,” he said flatly. It was supposed to be a tease but came out as more of a flat statement.
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
Magnus’s further assurances were the douse of frigid water Stephanos needed but didn’t want. His laughter died as it had begun, sharply and abrupt. Too many emotions and images were pressing in on him at once. The shock of being stabbed had already set in and was making him unbalanced emotionally and physically, making his already easily riled temper worse. He was barely listening as Magnus outlined how the functions of the House would break down. It was as expected and therefore, of no immediate concern. What did swipe him out from under the momentary calm was the news that Irakles had managed to entirely screw up the meet with the Egyptians. The one where they were supposed to be renewing friendship. Of course. Stephanos didn’t think for a second that was by accident, either. The glory hound general had wanted to cement his reign in the blood of soldiers in some pointless goal of immortality.
With every breath he sucked in through his nose, hatred for the deceased Irakles seethed through his gritted teeth. Rather than Magnus’s face, he saw Irakles’s, with that handsome, infuriating smile the man had been known for. He wished he’d punched in his uncle’s teeth instead of the Creed leader. It would have been better. Just walk in his room and commit the murder he’d already had to run for. Why had he waited? Why had he tried to play fair? Why had he attempted to be a good person? It hadn’t gotten him what he’d wanted or needed. It hadn’t saved him or Olympia, or anyone else. If he’d done what he wanted, and murdered Irakles, everything would now be the same and he’d have his revenge to keep him company. Now? The horrible truth that he would never, ever, best his uncle. The chance was gone.
Pia pulled on him and he blinked. Magnus was back and Stephanos looked around at Vangelis, oddly surprised to find him still there. "The general wished me a safe delivery. Selene said so. He brought you a horse. Whatever Irakles did, this war is his error, not ours."
“What?” Stephanos caught something about Irakles’s horse. He looked down at her hand on his shoulder, confused about that, too.
"Come, my love. You need to rest." Her voice was unemotional and it was enough to finally subdue the rage he’d had. His wife was small and that was something Stephanos always bore in mind; that he could hurt her on accident and should not. So when she touched him, rather than riling him further, it reminded him to calm down, or else the temper that threatened violence could be turned where he least wanted it to go. Though, in his current state, no one, not even her, was in much danger. He didn’t have the strength or coordination. Perhaps in a blind, battle rage, but not now that the adrenaline was gone.
"A word, before you retire, Stephanos?" Vangelis rumbled at him and Stephanos pulled Pia’s hand from his shoulder but didn’t actually let it go. He kept hold of her with his good hand and half tugged her with him over to the prince, who Stephanos was now vaguely concerned might fall back into the chair he’d just vacated.
“We’re a mess,” he said flatly. It was supposed to be a tease but came out as more of a flat statement.
Magnus’s further assurances were the douse of frigid water Stephanos needed but didn’t want. His laughter died as it had begun, sharply and abrupt. Too many emotions and images were pressing in on him at once. The shock of being stabbed had already set in and was making him unbalanced emotionally and physically, making his already easily riled temper worse. He was barely listening as Magnus outlined how the functions of the House would break down. It was as expected and therefore, of no immediate concern. What did swipe him out from under the momentary calm was the news that Irakles had managed to entirely screw up the meet with the Egyptians. The one where they were supposed to be renewing friendship. Of course. Stephanos didn’t think for a second that was by accident, either. The glory hound general had wanted to cement his reign in the blood of soldiers in some pointless goal of immortality.
With every breath he sucked in through his nose, hatred for the deceased Irakles seethed through his gritted teeth. Rather than Magnus’s face, he saw Irakles’s, with that handsome, infuriating smile the man had been known for. He wished he’d punched in his uncle’s teeth instead of the Creed leader. It would have been better. Just walk in his room and commit the murder he’d already had to run for. Why had he waited? Why had he tried to play fair? Why had he attempted to be a good person? It hadn’t gotten him what he’d wanted or needed. It hadn’t saved him or Olympia, or anyone else. If he’d done what he wanted, and murdered Irakles, everything would now be the same and he’d have his revenge to keep him company. Now? The horrible truth that he would never, ever, best his uncle. The chance was gone.
Pia pulled on him and he blinked. Magnus was back and Stephanos looked around at Vangelis, oddly surprised to find him still there. "The general wished me a safe delivery. Selene said so. He brought you a horse. Whatever Irakles did, this war is his error, not ours."
“What?” Stephanos caught something about Irakles’s horse. He looked down at her hand on his shoulder, confused about that, too.
"Come, my love. You need to rest." Her voice was unemotional and it was enough to finally subdue the rage he’d had. His wife was small and that was something Stephanos always bore in mind; that he could hurt her on accident and should not. So when she touched him, rather than riling him further, it reminded him to calm down, or else the temper that threatened violence could be turned where he least wanted it to go. Though, in his current state, no one, not even her, was in much danger. He didn’t have the strength or coordination. Perhaps in a blind, battle rage, but not now that the adrenaline was gone.
"A word, before you retire, Stephanos?" Vangelis rumbled at him and Stephanos pulled Pia’s hand from his shoulder but didn’t actually let it go. He kept hold of her with his good hand and half tugged her with him over to the prince, who Stephanos was now vaguely concerned might fall back into the chair he’d just vacated.
“We’re a mess,” he said flatly. It was supposed to be a tease but came out as more of a flat statement.
Vangelis waited for Stephanos to right himself, as he rose from the chair and with a look towards Magnus, sent the Master from the room before he turned to address the former king of Taengea. Had he had his own way, the Lady Olympia would have left also but it was clear that he had picked a moment in which Stephanos did not wish for his wife to leave his side. As such, he would have to work with the scenario he had been given. Truth be told, he didn't expect married couples to keep excessive secrets from one another so Olympia would have found out the conversation regardless, no matter how disquieted he felt by having her present during its delivery.
When Stephanos tugged her over so that he could stand with Vangelis, somehow sensing that whatever the Colchian had to say was private and in need of closer quarters, despite them now being the only people in the room, Vangelis stood firm, despite the fact that they both seemed dead on their feet.
Stephanos surmised both of their states with a simple 'we're a mess.' which Vangelis could not deny. In fact, his lips even curled a little at the corner; a small but very real indicator of the amusement he felt in the statement.
"Yet, we live." He told the man, his own nature of focusing on the reality of a situation over the detriments of it coming into play. It was surprising how much Vangelis seemed to play the optimist around Stephanos these days. He had never thought of himself as one who looked on the brighter side of life. But perhaps when faced with a man who had every realistic inclination to focus on the negative, realism took the position of being an optimist.
"And so does my father." Vangelis added, after a moment, his lips no longer showing mirth and his stare hard and serious. "Thanks to you."
Not reaching out a putting a hand on Stephanos' shoulder for fear that it might cause one or both of them to hit the floor with imbalance. Instead, he simply straightened his spine and his frame seemed to convey the promise in his words. His eyes flickered over Olympia and then back to the man who had saved him from being fatherless again within a matter of hours of having him back.
"Your family are welcome in Colchis for as long as you wish. You're royal guests and I have ordered the household to obey your requests as if they were my orders. You'll be supported, protected and welcomed here. Until the time that you decide your next plan for the future." His stare was firm on Stephanos'. "You have my friendship and my thanks."
It was perhaps as emotional as Vangelis was ever likely to get with someone that he considered a comrade and it was a great deal for him to offer it. Whether Stephanos now knew him well enough to recognise that fact or not, Vangelis could not tell but, either way, he had offered what he had intended to: gratitude and a hand of trust.
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
Vangelis waited for Stephanos to right himself, as he rose from the chair and with a look towards Magnus, sent the Master from the room before he turned to address the former king of Taengea. Had he had his own way, the Lady Olympia would have left also but it was clear that he had picked a moment in which Stephanos did not wish for his wife to leave his side. As such, he would have to work with the scenario he had been given. Truth be told, he didn't expect married couples to keep excessive secrets from one another so Olympia would have found out the conversation regardless, no matter how disquieted he felt by having her present during its delivery.
When Stephanos tugged her over so that he could stand with Vangelis, somehow sensing that whatever the Colchian had to say was private and in need of closer quarters, despite them now being the only people in the room, Vangelis stood firm, despite the fact that they both seemed dead on their feet.
Stephanos surmised both of their states with a simple 'we're a mess.' which Vangelis could not deny. In fact, his lips even curled a little at the corner; a small but very real indicator of the amusement he felt in the statement.
"Yet, we live." He told the man, his own nature of focusing on the reality of a situation over the detriments of it coming into play. It was surprising how much Vangelis seemed to play the optimist around Stephanos these days. He had never thought of himself as one who looked on the brighter side of life. But perhaps when faced with a man who had every realistic inclination to focus on the negative, realism took the position of being an optimist.
"And so does my father." Vangelis added, after a moment, his lips no longer showing mirth and his stare hard and serious. "Thanks to you."
Not reaching out a putting a hand on Stephanos' shoulder for fear that it might cause one or both of them to hit the floor with imbalance. Instead, he simply straightened his spine and his frame seemed to convey the promise in his words. His eyes flickered over Olympia and then back to the man who had saved him from being fatherless again within a matter of hours of having him back.
"Your family are welcome in Colchis for as long as you wish. You're royal guests and I have ordered the household to obey your requests as if they were my orders. You'll be supported, protected and welcomed here. Until the time that you decide your next plan for the future." His stare was firm on Stephanos'. "You have my friendship and my thanks."
It was perhaps as emotional as Vangelis was ever likely to get with someone that he considered a comrade and it was a great deal for him to offer it. Whether Stephanos now knew him well enough to recognise that fact or not, Vangelis could not tell but, either way, he had offered what he had intended to: gratitude and a hand of trust.
Vangelis waited for Stephanos to right himself, as he rose from the chair and with a look towards Magnus, sent the Master from the room before he turned to address the former king of Taengea. Had he had his own way, the Lady Olympia would have left also but it was clear that he had picked a moment in which Stephanos did not wish for his wife to leave his side. As such, he would have to work with the scenario he had been given. Truth be told, he didn't expect married couples to keep excessive secrets from one another so Olympia would have found out the conversation regardless, no matter how disquieted he felt by having her present during its delivery.
When Stephanos tugged her over so that he could stand with Vangelis, somehow sensing that whatever the Colchian had to say was private and in need of closer quarters, despite them now being the only people in the room, Vangelis stood firm, despite the fact that they both seemed dead on their feet.
Stephanos surmised both of their states with a simple 'we're a mess.' which Vangelis could not deny. In fact, his lips even curled a little at the corner; a small but very real indicator of the amusement he felt in the statement.
"Yet, we live." He told the man, his own nature of focusing on the reality of a situation over the detriments of it coming into play. It was surprising how much Vangelis seemed to play the optimist around Stephanos these days. He had never thought of himself as one who looked on the brighter side of life. But perhaps when faced with a man who had every realistic inclination to focus on the negative, realism took the position of being an optimist.
"And so does my father." Vangelis added, after a moment, his lips no longer showing mirth and his stare hard and serious. "Thanks to you."
Not reaching out a putting a hand on Stephanos' shoulder for fear that it might cause one or both of them to hit the floor with imbalance. Instead, he simply straightened his spine and his frame seemed to convey the promise in his words. His eyes flickered over Olympia and then back to the man who had saved him from being fatherless again within a matter of hours of having him back.
"Your family are welcome in Colchis for as long as you wish. You're royal guests and I have ordered the household to obey your requests as if they were my orders. You'll be supported, protected and welcomed here. Until the time that you decide your next plan for the future." His stare was firm on Stephanos'. "You have my friendship and my thanks."
It was perhaps as emotional as Vangelis was ever likely to get with someone that he considered a comrade and it was a great deal for him to offer it. Whether Stephanos now knew him well enough to recognise that fact or not, Vangelis could not tell but, either way, he had offered what he had intended to: gratitude and a hand of trust.
She felt empty, as if someone had knocked into her she would have rung hollow. It was a safer feeling than the sadness that had been consuming her, at least now she didn't want to walk off the nearest cliff with her daughter in her arms, and it was easier to deal with than the rage that could have no outlet. Stephanos' lack of reaction when she spoke was concerning, but there was no need for them now to be complete. They were nothing anymore, peasants in a foreign land where they could gain nothing and had lost everything.
There was a flash of annoyance in her gaze as Vangelis called him back. When he moved to take her hand off of his shoulder she stayed silent, resigned that even now after all they'd just gone through he didn't want her to touch him. She had failed him in bearing a daughter when he needed a son, and even now that they had nothing together, he couldn't bear to have her close. Olympia's eyes fell to the ground and she prepared to walk back to the Kotas manor on her own, her hand limp until his own closed around it.
Looking up in surprise, she followed him as they moved closer to the Colchian prince, trying not to look like she didn't feel as if she belonged here. If she could have shrunk away and left them to their discussion she would have, but in this rare moment where her husband wanted her close she didn't have the bravery to leave him. And so she stood by his side as if she did belong. She straightened to her full height which was not inconsiderable for a woman, one hand on her husband's back and the other still holding his.
Vangelis' appreciation was unexpected, she didn't think she'd ever heard him say anything quite so close to an emotion like gratitude before. He'd saved her life in the Circus what felt like a lifetime ago, her sister loved him now. Somehow Selene saw in Vangelis something that was completely hidden to Olympia. In this moment though she could see a glimmer of what her sister saw. Silent still as the prince extended his hand, she gave him a slight smile when he made eye contact with her before looking down once more and giving Stephanos' hand a gentle squeeze.
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
She felt empty, as if someone had knocked into her she would have rung hollow. It was a safer feeling than the sadness that had been consuming her, at least now she didn't want to walk off the nearest cliff with her daughter in her arms, and it was easier to deal with than the rage that could have no outlet. Stephanos' lack of reaction when she spoke was concerning, but there was no need for them now to be complete. They were nothing anymore, peasants in a foreign land where they could gain nothing and had lost everything.
There was a flash of annoyance in her gaze as Vangelis called him back. When he moved to take her hand off of his shoulder she stayed silent, resigned that even now after all they'd just gone through he didn't want her to touch him. She had failed him in bearing a daughter when he needed a son, and even now that they had nothing together, he couldn't bear to have her close. Olympia's eyes fell to the ground and she prepared to walk back to the Kotas manor on her own, her hand limp until his own closed around it.
Looking up in surprise, she followed him as they moved closer to the Colchian prince, trying not to look like she didn't feel as if she belonged here. If she could have shrunk away and left them to their discussion she would have, but in this rare moment where her husband wanted her close she didn't have the bravery to leave him. And so she stood by his side as if she did belong. She straightened to her full height which was not inconsiderable for a woman, one hand on her husband's back and the other still holding his.
Vangelis' appreciation was unexpected, she didn't think she'd ever heard him say anything quite so close to an emotion like gratitude before. He'd saved her life in the Circus what felt like a lifetime ago, her sister loved him now. Somehow Selene saw in Vangelis something that was completely hidden to Olympia. In this moment though she could see a glimmer of what her sister saw. Silent still as the prince extended his hand, she gave him a slight smile when he made eye contact with her before looking down once more and giving Stephanos' hand a gentle squeeze.
She felt empty, as if someone had knocked into her she would have rung hollow. It was a safer feeling than the sadness that had been consuming her, at least now she didn't want to walk off the nearest cliff with her daughter in her arms, and it was easier to deal with than the rage that could have no outlet. Stephanos' lack of reaction when she spoke was concerning, but there was no need for them now to be complete. They were nothing anymore, peasants in a foreign land where they could gain nothing and had lost everything.
There was a flash of annoyance in her gaze as Vangelis called him back. When he moved to take her hand off of his shoulder she stayed silent, resigned that even now after all they'd just gone through he didn't want her to touch him. She had failed him in bearing a daughter when he needed a son, and even now that they had nothing together, he couldn't bear to have her close. Olympia's eyes fell to the ground and she prepared to walk back to the Kotas manor on her own, her hand limp until his own closed around it.
Looking up in surprise, she followed him as they moved closer to the Colchian prince, trying not to look like she didn't feel as if she belonged here. If she could have shrunk away and left them to their discussion she would have, but in this rare moment where her husband wanted her close she didn't have the bravery to leave him. And so she stood by his side as if she did belong. She straightened to her full height which was not inconsiderable for a woman, one hand on her husband's back and the other still holding his.
Vangelis' appreciation was unexpected, she didn't think she'd ever heard him say anything quite so close to an emotion like gratitude before. He'd saved her life in the Circus what felt like a lifetime ago, her sister loved him now. Somehow Selene saw in Vangelis something that was completely hidden to Olympia. In this moment though she could see a glimmer of what her sister saw. Silent still as the prince extended his hand, she gave him a slight smile when he made eye contact with her before looking down once more and giving Stephanos' hand a gentle squeeze.
Stephanos briefly looked down at Olympia as Vangelis said, "Yet, we live." The man’s voice, usually so grave, held a hint of amusement and it made Stephanos turn to check if the small smile he imagined to be there was truly in place. In that moment, Vangelis reminded him so strongly of Zacharias that he had to look away again. It was true that, while Zacharias lived, Stephanos had held very little interest in Vangelis beyond polite conversations whenever the Colchian prince came to Taengea. After his father and brother’s deaths, they’d been through quite a few intense situations together. From the horror of the tragedy at the circus track, to the retreat to the palati, to going back out and fighting the Creed together. Vangelis had shown nothing but brave tenacity, displaying his heart through actions, rather than emotional words. It was in those moments that Stephanos’s like of the man bloomed, and in the subsequent dealings they’d had afterwards that cemented a lifelong friendship like no other for the prince. It was true that he knew men like his cousins better, but they had been distant since the circus.
For the moment, no one had done as much for him as Vangelis of Kotas and Stephanos had reasonably assumed that while Vangelis might feel some sort of inkling that might be considered friendship between them, it was mostly felt on his own side, rather than Vangelis’s. It was hard to know how or what Vangelis felt about anything. This smile, this indication of true feeling, held more of Zacharias than Vangelis. The two had been so alike, but with Zacharias being more animated than Vangelis. To see something of that in the prince’s face, it brought the past few months back with more force than Stephanos could have anticipated. In Vangelis, he’d found a small connection to Zacharias and had doggedly held onto it, all the while knowing Vangelis did not feel the same brotherly bond. It didn’t matter.
Vangelis’s tiny smile disappeared, fading from his face until the natural, grave facade was back, though the man’s eyes were softer than Stephanos had seen them before. "And so does my father,” the prince said, referring back to what he’d said earlier about how they were living. "Thanks to you." Before Stephanos could respond with more than a vague sound in the back of his throat, he felt Pia squeeze the hand on his bandaged side. Vangelis straightened himself up and Stephanos tried to hide his own shock that Vangelis was preparing to speak further. At the moment, Stephanos didn’t trust himself to speak at all.
He squeezed Pia’s hand in return as Vangelis made it clear that he and Pia were welcome in Colchis for however long it took them to decide their next move. The level of generosity being extended to them, even after their epic fight and destruction of a room, even if they were not truly useful to this kingdom, made Stephanos swallow and nod stiffly, unable to form a proper response right at that second.
"You have my friendship and my thanks,” Vangelis was saying and, thank the gods, offered his hand, rather than needing something verbal from the exiled king. Stephanos didn’t allow Vangelis’s hand to rise to waist level before he grasped it. Their hands were cold, the palms rough, signs of poor circulation at this very second, and further signs of the training each did with their weapons of choice. Nodding, Stephanos then dropped the handshake and waited a few seconds before saying,
“Thank you, Vangelis.” It seemed a poor response but it was all he had in him. Squeezing his wife’s hand harder, Stephanos used that to indicate they could leave now and then, over his shoulder, with a few steps of distance between them, Stephanos added, “I am at your disposal. Whatever you need.” He didn’t want his only notable act to have been saving the king. While worthwhile, and one he’d perform again if it ever became necessary, he wanted something ongoing, but didn’t quite specify that in so many words. He and Pia left the room to travel to the one they were staying in for much needed rest.
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
Stephanos briefly looked down at Olympia as Vangelis said, "Yet, we live." The man’s voice, usually so grave, held a hint of amusement and it made Stephanos turn to check if the small smile he imagined to be there was truly in place. In that moment, Vangelis reminded him so strongly of Zacharias that he had to look away again. It was true that, while Zacharias lived, Stephanos had held very little interest in Vangelis beyond polite conversations whenever the Colchian prince came to Taengea. After his father and brother’s deaths, they’d been through quite a few intense situations together. From the horror of the tragedy at the circus track, to the retreat to the palati, to going back out and fighting the Creed together. Vangelis had shown nothing but brave tenacity, displaying his heart through actions, rather than emotional words. It was in those moments that Stephanos’s like of the man bloomed, and in the subsequent dealings they’d had afterwards that cemented a lifelong friendship like no other for the prince. It was true that he knew men like his cousins better, but they had been distant since the circus.
For the moment, no one had done as much for him as Vangelis of Kotas and Stephanos had reasonably assumed that while Vangelis might feel some sort of inkling that might be considered friendship between them, it was mostly felt on his own side, rather than Vangelis’s. It was hard to know how or what Vangelis felt about anything. This smile, this indication of true feeling, held more of Zacharias than Vangelis. The two had been so alike, but with Zacharias being more animated than Vangelis. To see something of that in the prince’s face, it brought the past few months back with more force than Stephanos could have anticipated. In Vangelis, he’d found a small connection to Zacharias and had doggedly held onto it, all the while knowing Vangelis did not feel the same brotherly bond. It didn’t matter.
Vangelis’s tiny smile disappeared, fading from his face until the natural, grave facade was back, though the man’s eyes were softer than Stephanos had seen them before. "And so does my father,” the prince said, referring back to what he’d said earlier about how they were living. "Thanks to you." Before Stephanos could respond with more than a vague sound in the back of his throat, he felt Pia squeeze the hand on his bandaged side. Vangelis straightened himself up and Stephanos tried to hide his own shock that Vangelis was preparing to speak further. At the moment, Stephanos didn’t trust himself to speak at all.
He squeezed Pia’s hand in return as Vangelis made it clear that he and Pia were welcome in Colchis for however long it took them to decide their next move. The level of generosity being extended to them, even after their epic fight and destruction of a room, even if they were not truly useful to this kingdom, made Stephanos swallow and nod stiffly, unable to form a proper response right at that second.
"You have my friendship and my thanks,” Vangelis was saying and, thank the gods, offered his hand, rather than needing something verbal from the exiled king. Stephanos didn’t allow Vangelis’s hand to rise to waist level before he grasped it. Their hands were cold, the palms rough, signs of poor circulation at this very second, and further signs of the training each did with their weapons of choice. Nodding, Stephanos then dropped the handshake and waited a few seconds before saying,
“Thank you, Vangelis.” It seemed a poor response but it was all he had in him. Squeezing his wife’s hand harder, Stephanos used that to indicate they could leave now and then, over his shoulder, with a few steps of distance between them, Stephanos added, “I am at your disposal. Whatever you need.” He didn’t want his only notable act to have been saving the king. While worthwhile, and one he’d perform again if it ever became necessary, he wanted something ongoing, but didn’t quite specify that in so many words. He and Pia left the room to travel to the one they were staying in for much needed rest.
Stephanos briefly looked down at Olympia as Vangelis said, "Yet, we live." The man’s voice, usually so grave, held a hint of amusement and it made Stephanos turn to check if the small smile he imagined to be there was truly in place. In that moment, Vangelis reminded him so strongly of Zacharias that he had to look away again. It was true that, while Zacharias lived, Stephanos had held very little interest in Vangelis beyond polite conversations whenever the Colchian prince came to Taengea. After his father and brother’s deaths, they’d been through quite a few intense situations together. From the horror of the tragedy at the circus track, to the retreat to the palati, to going back out and fighting the Creed together. Vangelis had shown nothing but brave tenacity, displaying his heart through actions, rather than emotional words. It was in those moments that Stephanos’s like of the man bloomed, and in the subsequent dealings they’d had afterwards that cemented a lifelong friendship like no other for the prince. It was true that he knew men like his cousins better, but they had been distant since the circus.
For the moment, no one had done as much for him as Vangelis of Kotas and Stephanos had reasonably assumed that while Vangelis might feel some sort of inkling that might be considered friendship between them, it was mostly felt on his own side, rather than Vangelis’s. It was hard to know how or what Vangelis felt about anything. This smile, this indication of true feeling, held more of Zacharias than Vangelis. The two had been so alike, but with Zacharias being more animated than Vangelis. To see something of that in the prince’s face, it brought the past few months back with more force than Stephanos could have anticipated. In Vangelis, he’d found a small connection to Zacharias and had doggedly held onto it, all the while knowing Vangelis did not feel the same brotherly bond. It didn’t matter.
Vangelis’s tiny smile disappeared, fading from his face until the natural, grave facade was back, though the man’s eyes were softer than Stephanos had seen them before. "And so does my father,” the prince said, referring back to what he’d said earlier about how they were living. "Thanks to you." Before Stephanos could respond with more than a vague sound in the back of his throat, he felt Pia squeeze the hand on his bandaged side. Vangelis straightened himself up and Stephanos tried to hide his own shock that Vangelis was preparing to speak further. At the moment, Stephanos didn’t trust himself to speak at all.
He squeezed Pia’s hand in return as Vangelis made it clear that he and Pia were welcome in Colchis for however long it took them to decide their next move. The level of generosity being extended to them, even after their epic fight and destruction of a room, even if they were not truly useful to this kingdom, made Stephanos swallow and nod stiffly, unable to form a proper response right at that second.
"You have my friendship and my thanks,” Vangelis was saying and, thank the gods, offered his hand, rather than needing something verbal from the exiled king. Stephanos didn’t allow Vangelis’s hand to rise to waist level before he grasped it. Their hands were cold, the palms rough, signs of poor circulation at this very second, and further signs of the training each did with their weapons of choice. Nodding, Stephanos then dropped the handshake and waited a few seconds before saying,
“Thank you, Vangelis.” It seemed a poor response but it was all he had in him. Squeezing his wife’s hand harder, Stephanos used that to indicate they could leave now and then, over his shoulder, with a few steps of distance between them, Stephanos added, “I am at your disposal. Whatever you need.” He didn’t want his only notable act to have been saving the king. While worthwhile, and one he’d perform again if it ever became necessary, he wanted something ongoing, but didn’t quite specify that in so many words. He and Pia left the room to travel to the one they were staying in for much needed rest.