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Vangelis was growing severely restless. A man used to the comings and goings of a lifetime abroad, at seas and in lands beyond the boundaries of Colchis, it was rare for him to be in a single location for longer than a few weeks at a time. Even when he was fighting wars and conflicts that lasted months or years, the settlements in which he stayed were transient. He would gain ground, secure safer places for respite and spend more of his time preparing to decamp and then reset their temporary home than he did actually living within it. Never once was he so stoic as he was now without good reason.
The last time he had been within the lands and walls of his home for this long had been when he was bed ridden upon his last return home. Having suffered a rockslide in the mines of his own city, half the bones in his body had needed time to heal. He had been forced to remain abed for so long, his physicality needing sleep to recover, that he had lost track of the hours, days and weeks that he had lost in respite and healing. This time, however, whilst the poisoning he had lived through at the Dikastirio had taken a little less than two days to recover from completely, he had been otherwise entirely healthy for his time at home. And now it had been almost a month since his return to the shores of the Kirakles Isles. A month in which had had been perfectly healthy, able to function without hindrance or restraint. And yet not able to leave for he was too busy within the walls of his manor.
Vangelis had aided in Zanon's investigation of his own poisoning - a mystery that had so far gone unexplained for the poison itself had been too common to trace to any particular antagonist - supported his mother and sister through several small, public events, interviewed the head of the house of Thanasi over his confusion and regicidal attempt on King Tython's life. He had learnt of how his father had survived a supposed drowning, had become engaged and now was responsible as the primary mind behind a warfront. It had been two weeks since they had learnt that war was indeed beyond avoidance and it would be any moment now that King Achilleas of Taengea would be setting sail for Egypt. Vangelis had to ensure that Colchis were prepared to follow not long behind them. If he was quick, with the additional journey between Colchis and Taengea, the Colchian forces would be able to support the capitol of the southern kingdom should the King's early offensive fail. Or, if the conflict on the African continent was still on going, even be a secondary wave of reinforcements to the king himself.
Vangelis had already sent messages to those he held militant connections to in Athenia - and one to Queen Persephone via the House of Dimitrou to engage their third ally in the fight. But, a man of pragmatics and principle, he also knew that he would be going to war initially without them. For Athenia's politics were more tangled than any of them and without a ruler in chief of their military forces, it was illegal for anyone to declare official war. Colchis would stand alone as the support to Taengea, just as Taengea stood alone now against Egypt. It was the way of the world and of the timings of Fate.
Yet, wars could take months, years... to arrive only four weeks behind an ally would be a good feat and one that Vangelis intended to see done. Which meant he and his men would be required to leave within two weeks - possibly 20 days at most, from now. He had already sent the messages to barons and captains alike to ensure that the relevant and chosen military units would be prepared to set sail.
For now, Vangelis' only option was to prepare in his own way. As General and commander of his armies, he had no idea what information may or may not be of use when they reached Egypt. As such, he had found a day without public attendance or official task and had buried himself within the vast library that had been built next door to the Kotas manor. With several doors breaking the division between the two, the library acted more as an additional, enormous chamber of their private residence, but the guards at each such door were there to keep out the public, permitted to wander the rows of books. The library was, in itself, an independent resource of the nation. But the doors that led into the Kotas home gave evidence of just how significant the fount of knowledge was.
Colchis had no universities, no great academic emphasis. But they were neither illiterate nor barbarians. And the library - too small in comparison to that of great establishments abroad, but too large to be considered a private collection - was their only real heralding to the power of wisdom.
It was here that Vangelis had found himself whiling away the day, feeling restless, straightening his legs and then crossing them, shifting on his rear over and again to ease the deadening sensation in his backside. Not having bothered with a chair, Vangelis had found himself the Egyptian section of the records, hunkered down upon the floor and began to pull out every tome that might contain something that would be of use to him in a critical moment.
It was over topographical maps of the northern sands of Egypt that Vangelis was pouring when he was disturbed by a quiet footstep...
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Vangelis was growing severely restless. A man used to the comings and goings of a lifetime abroad, at seas and in lands beyond the boundaries of Colchis, it was rare for him to be in a single location for longer than a few weeks at a time. Even when he was fighting wars and conflicts that lasted months or years, the settlements in which he stayed were transient. He would gain ground, secure safer places for respite and spend more of his time preparing to decamp and then reset their temporary home than he did actually living within it. Never once was he so stoic as he was now without good reason.
The last time he had been within the lands and walls of his home for this long had been when he was bed ridden upon his last return home. Having suffered a rockslide in the mines of his own city, half the bones in his body had needed time to heal. He had been forced to remain abed for so long, his physicality needing sleep to recover, that he had lost track of the hours, days and weeks that he had lost in respite and healing. This time, however, whilst the poisoning he had lived through at the Dikastirio had taken a little less than two days to recover from completely, he had been otherwise entirely healthy for his time at home. And now it had been almost a month since his return to the shores of the Kirakles Isles. A month in which had had been perfectly healthy, able to function without hindrance or restraint. And yet not able to leave for he was too busy within the walls of his manor.
Vangelis had aided in Zanon's investigation of his own poisoning - a mystery that had so far gone unexplained for the poison itself had been too common to trace to any particular antagonist - supported his mother and sister through several small, public events, interviewed the head of the house of Thanasi over his confusion and regicidal attempt on King Tython's life. He had learnt of how his father had survived a supposed drowning, had become engaged and now was responsible as the primary mind behind a warfront. It had been two weeks since they had learnt that war was indeed beyond avoidance and it would be any moment now that King Achilleas of Taengea would be setting sail for Egypt. Vangelis had to ensure that Colchis were prepared to follow not long behind them. If he was quick, with the additional journey between Colchis and Taengea, the Colchian forces would be able to support the capitol of the southern kingdom should the King's early offensive fail. Or, if the conflict on the African continent was still on going, even be a secondary wave of reinforcements to the king himself.
Vangelis had already sent messages to those he held militant connections to in Athenia - and one to Queen Persephone via the House of Dimitrou to engage their third ally in the fight. But, a man of pragmatics and principle, he also knew that he would be going to war initially without them. For Athenia's politics were more tangled than any of them and without a ruler in chief of their military forces, it was illegal for anyone to declare official war. Colchis would stand alone as the support to Taengea, just as Taengea stood alone now against Egypt. It was the way of the world and of the timings of Fate.
Yet, wars could take months, years... to arrive only four weeks behind an ally would be a good feat and one that Vangelis intended to see done. Which meant he and his men would be required to leave within two weeks - possibly 20 days at most, from now. He had already sent the messages to barons and captains alike to ensure that the relevant and chosen military units would be prepared to set sail.
For now, Vangelis' only option was to prepare in his own way. As General and commander of his armies, he had no idea what information may or may not be of use when they reached Egypt. As such, he had found a day without public attendance or official task and had buried himself within the vast library that had been built next door to the Kotas manor. With several doors breaking the division between the two, the library acted more as an additional, enormous chamber of their private residence, but the guards at each such door were there to keep out the public, permitted to wander the rows of books. The library was, in itself, an independent resource of the nation. But the doors that led into the Kotas home gave evidence of just how significant the fount of knowledge was.
Colchis had no universities, no great academic emphasis. But they were neither illiterate nor barbarians. And the library - too small in comparison to that of great establishments abroad, but too large to be considered a private collection - was their only real heralding to the power of wisdom.
It was here that Vangelis had found himself whiling away the day, feeling restless, straightening his legs and then crossing them, shifting on his rear over and again to ease the deadening sensation in his backside. Not having bothered with a chair, Vangelis had found himself the Egyptian section of the records, hunkered down upon the floor and began to pull out every tome that might contain something that would be of use to him in a critical moment.
It was over topographical maps of the northern sands of Egypt that Vangelis was pouring when he was disturbed by a quiet footstep...
Vangelis was growing severely restless. A man used to the comings and goings of a lifetime abroad, at seas and in lands beyond the boundaries of Colchis, it was rare for him to be in a single location for longer than a few weeks at a time. Even when he was fighting wars and conflicts that lasted months or years, the settlements in which he stayed were transient. He would gain ground, secure safer places for respite and spend more of his time preparing to decamp and then reset their temporary home than he did actually living within it. Never once was he so stoic as he was now without good reason.
The last time he had been within the lands and walls of his home for this long had been when he was bed ridden upon his last return home. Having suffered a rockslide in the mines of his own city, half the bones in his body had needed time to heal. He had been forced to remain abed for so long, his physicality needing sleep to recover, that he had lost track of the hours, days and weeks that he had lost in respite and healing. This time, however, whilst the poisoning he had lived through at the Dikastirio had taken a little less than two days to recover from completely, he had been otherwise entirely healthy for his time at home. And now it had been almost a month since his return to the shores of the Kirakles Isles. A month in which had had been perfectly healthy, able to function without hindrance or restraint. And yet not able to leave for he was too busy within the walls of his manor.
Vangelis had aided in Zanon's investigation of his own poisoning - a mystery that had so far gone unexplained for the poison itself had been too common to trace to any particular antagonist - supported his mother and sister through several small, public events, interviewed the head of the house of Thanasi over his confusion and regicidal attempt on King Tython's life. He had learnt of how his father had survived a supposed drowning, had become engaged and now was responsible as the primary mind behind a warfront. It had been two weeks since they had learnt that war was indeed beyond avoidance and it would be any moment now that King Achilleas of Taengea would be setting sail for Egypt. Vangelis had to ensure that Colchis were prepared to follow not long behind them. If he was quick, with the additional journey between Colchis and Taengea, the Colchian forces would be able to support the capitol of the southern kingdom should the King's early offensive fail. Or, if the conflict on the African continent was still on going, even be a secondary wave of reinforcements to the king himself.
Vangelis had already sent messages to those he held militant connections to in Athenia - and one to Queen Persephone via the House of Dimitrou to engage their third ally in the fight. But, a man of pragmatics and principle, he also knew that he would be going to war initially without them. For Athenia's politics were more tangled than any of them and without a ruler in chief of their military forces, it was illegal for anyone to declare official war. Colchis would stand alone as the support to Taengea, just as Taengea stood alone now against Egypt. It was the way of the world and of the timings of Fate.
Yet, wars could take months, years... to arrive only four weeks behind an ally would be a good feat and one that Vangelis intended to see done. Which meant he and his men would be required to leave within two weeks - possibly 20 days at most, from now. He had already sent the messages to barons and captains alike to ensure that the relevant and chosen military units would be prepared to set sail.
For now, Vangelis' only option was to prepare in his own way. As General and commander of his armies, he had no idea what information may or may not be of use when they reached Egypt. As such, he had found a day without public attendance or official task and had buried himself within the vast library that had been built next door to the Kotas manor. With several doors breaking the division between the two, the library acted more as an additional, enormous chamber of their private residence, but the guards at each such door were there to keep out the public, permitted to wander the rows of books. The library was, in itself, an independent resource of the nation. But the doors that led into the Kotas home gave evidence of just how significant the fount of knowledge was.
Colchis had no universities, no great academic emphasis. But they were neither illiterate nor barbarians. And the library - too small in comparison to that of great establishments abroad, but too large to be considered a private collection - was their only real heralding to the power of wisdom.
It was here that Vangelis had found himself whiling away the day, feeling restless, straightening his legs and then crossing them, shifting on his rear over and again to ease the deadening sensation in his backside. Not having bothered with a chair, Vangelis had found himself the Egyptian section of the records, hunkered down upon the floor and began to pull out every tome that might contain something that would be of use to him in a critical moment.
It was over topographical maps of the northern sands of Egypt that Vangelis was pouring when he was disturbed by a quiet footstep...
She tried not to think about the troubles within her own family. Not of how Pia looked at her after news of her engagement, not of how Nana had been so rude. At least her mother was happy for her, pleased that her eldest daughter was finally set to marry. And she would be a Queen, much like Theo was. Which was part of the reason Pia was so upset with her.
But why shouldn’t Selene be happy for the news? After the loss of her first chance at marriage, she was finally set to wed. To a future king, no less. But even more importantly, to a man she loved. Why should she not find joy in that?
Selene was glad for the distraction that Thea and her future sisters brought. There was much to be learned of her home, and she tried to focus on that. Because if she thought of anything else, she would burst into tears. And there was no time for tears when there seemed to be a war brewing.
She spent her morning in prayer, as was her routine. It helped ground her, keeping her thinking of something other than the discourse within her family. And if it didn’t help, like today, she would ride. As there was little to keep her busy that day, she was glad for no responsibilities to allow her to do as she wished. With most of a morning spent out, and half the afternoon in the stables, it wasn’t unusual for her not to see her betrothed He was a busy man, and had far better things to do that focus solely on her. When they had moments, his own stress level didn’t go without seeing. She knew what he was facing, and how he was struggling. And so she held her tongue in her own desires to spend time with him.
But the note from her father, waiting for her in her room as she dressed for dinner, brought pause. If she had word, as negative as it appeared to be, then perhaps Vangelis would have heard as well. So she dressed for dinner, in a deep burgundy gown so close to the Kotas color, hoping to show her allegiance to her betrothed. The neckline and back were low, the dress well suited for her coloring. As she preferred, she went without jewels or makeup.
But when he never showed for the meal, Selene did wonder where he might be. It wasn’t like him to not at least sit with his family for an evening meal. And as much as she wished to sit with the family, it was him that she came to dine with. So, with orders to have a tray brought to the library (where Zanon swore he had last heard he was), she disappeared back into the house, following her way to the library. With a smile to the guards, she pushed open the doors, padding quieting through. She grabbed a candle, quietly walking until she found traces of him.
Sitting on the ground, tomes scattered about him, he looked both tense and relaxed. ”Good evening, Vangelis.” She bowed her head, then kept it down to see exactly what he was looking at specifically. ”Have you been here all day? Have you eaten?” She asked, brushing back a blonde curl.
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She tried not to think about the troubles within her own family. Not of how Pia looked at her after news of her engagement, not of how Nana had been so rude. At least her mother was happy for her, pleased that her eldest daughter was finally set to marry. And she would be a Queen, much like Theo was. Which was part of the reason Pia was so upset with her.
But why shouldn’t Selene be happy for the news? After the loss of her first chance at marriage, she was finally set to wed. To a future king, no less. But even more importantly, to a man she loved. Why should she not find joy in that?
Selene was glad for the distraction that Thea and her future sisters brought. There was much to be learned of her home, and she tried to focus on that. Because if she thought of anything else, she would burst into tears. And there was no time for tears when there seemed to be a war brewing.
She spent her morning in prayer, as was her routine. It helped ground her, keeping her thinking of something other than the discourse within her family. And if it didn’t help, like today, she would ride. As there was little to keep her busy that day, she was glad for no responsibilities to allow her to do as she wished. With most of a morning spent out, and half the afternoon in the stables, it wasn’t unusual for her not to see her betrothed He was a busy man, and had far better things to do that focus solely on her. When they had moments, his own stress level didn’t go without seeing. She knew what he was facing, and how he was struggling. And so she held her tongue in her own desires to spend time with him.
But the note from her father, waiting for her in her room as she dressed for dinner, brought pause. If she had word, as negative as it appeared to be, then perhaps Vangelis would have heard as well. So she dressed for dinner, in a deep burgundy gown so close to the Kotas color, hoping to show her allegiance to her betrothed. The neckline and back were low, the dress well suited for her coloring. As she preferred, she went without jewels or makeup.
But when he never showed for the meal, Selene did wonder where he might be. It wasn’t like him to not at least sit with his family for an evening meal. And as much as she wished to sit with the family, it was him that she came to dine with. So, with orders to have a tray brought to the library (where Zanon swore he had last heard he was), she disappeared back into the house, following her way to the library. With a smile to the guards, she pushed open the doors, padding quieting through. She grabbed a candle, quietly walking until she found traces of him.
Sitting on the ground, tomes scattered about him, he looked both tense and relaxed. ”Good evening, Vangelis.” She bowed her head, then kept it down to see exactly what he was looking at specifically. ”Have you been here all day? Have you eaten?” She asked, brushing back a blonde curl.
She tried not to think about the troubles within her own family. Not of how Pia looked at her after news of her engagement, not of how Nana had been so rude. At least her mother was happy for her, pleased that her eldest daughter was finally set to marry. And she would be a Queen, much like Theo was. Which was part of the reason Pia was so upset with her.
But why shouldn’t Selene be happy for the news? After the loss of her first chance at marriage, she was finally set to wed. To a future king, no less. But even more importantly, to a man she loved. Why should she not find joy in that?
Selene was glad for the distraction that Thea and her future sisters brought. There was much to be learned of her home, and she tried to focus on that. Because if she thought of anything else, she would burst into tears. And there was no time for tears when there seemed to be a war brewing.
She spent her morning in prayer, as was her routine. It helped ground her, keeping her thinking of something other than the discourse within her family. And if it didn’t help, like today, she would ride. As there was little to keep her busy that day, she was glad for no responsibilities to allow her to do as she wished. With most of a morning spent out, and half the afternoon in the stables, it wasn’t unusual for her not to see her betrothed He was a busy man, and had far better things to do that focus solely on her. When they had moments, his own stress level didn’t go without seeing. She knew what he was facing, and how he was struggling. And so she held her tongue in her own desires to spend time with him.
But the note from her father, waiting for her in her room as she dressed for dinner, brought pause. If she had word, as negative as it appeared to be, then perhaps Vangelis would have heard as well. So she dressed for dinner, in a deep burgundy gown so close to the Kotas color, hoping to show her allegiance to her betrothed. The neckline and back were low, the dress well suited for her coloring. As she preferred, she went without jewels or makeup.
But when he never showed for the meal, Selene did wonder where he might be. It wasn’t like him to not at least sit with his family for an evening meal. And as much as she wished to sit with the family, it was him that she came to dine with. So, with orders to have a tray brought to the library (where Zanon swore he had last heard he was), she disappeared back into the house, following her way to the library. With a smile to the guards, she pushed open the doors, padding quieting through. She grabbed a candle, quietly walking until she found traces of him.
Sitting on the ground, tomes scattered about him, he looked both tense and relaxed. ”Good evening, Vangelis.” She bowed her head, then kept it down to see exactly what he was looking at specifically. ”Have you been here all day? Have you eaten?” She asked, brushing back a blonde curl.
Vangelis heard Selene approaching but he was safe in the knowledge that the guardsmen were standing at the doors between the library and the manual and other upon the front entryway for the public. He had ordered that no-one enter for the afternoon whilst he poured over the information hidden away in the shelves committed to Egypt. For it would do not good if his people began to riot and panic that war was coming before he could make such a statement of fact in a strong and commanding manner that would evocate strength, unity and understanding from the soldiers and their families that were about to be put to the test once more.
As such, he held no concern or fear for whomever it was, softly walking the rugs that criss-crossed upon the stone slab flooring down the aisles and routes that divided the shelving units. He noted it to be female, over the heavy boots or sandals more preferred by men - not to mention the lighter, softer tread - but beyond that, the step was unfamiliar as it was masked by the thickly woven strands of the patterned rugs. Assuming it to be his mother, searching upon his whereabouts for lunch or perhaps a mid-afternoon repast, he was surprised to look up and blink in the light that came around the corner.
Only when Selene's frame came into the aisle of cases, illuminated by the candle she carried did it throw into obvious relief just how dark it had begun to become. Blinking over what he now suddenly realised were dry eyes, drained from staring upon dusty parchment and sealed clay for too many hours on end, Vangelis' gaze shot to the rooftops where small arch windows ran the length of the wall, just beneath the ceiling. His stare was prompted by Selene's question on whether he had been there all day, and he was surprised to note that the sun had long since set. He had only been able to continue reading as he had by the minor element of moonlight that seeped in through uncovered windows and the torch brackets and candles that lined the public spaces of the library. His only little crevice of the chamber had turned very dark indeed. So gradually, however, that he hadn't noticed until the sharp and warm white light extended from candle wick to sheaths of paper.
"If it's evening then yes..." Vangelis answered with no expression of mirth but at least a lightness to his tone. "I've been here all day." The query about food, simply had him shaking his head as if such a concern was trivial.
"I have been too engrossed."
Shuffling some of the books around himself and then rubbing a hand down his face and pinching at his eyes to relieve some of the sudden tiredness he felt behind them, Vangelis blinked rapidly and then turned his gaze once more upon the dark outline of Selene'a gown and the way the candle let her hair appearing brightest white in the gloom.
"What brings you into the darkness, Selene?" He asked her, this time with a slight curl at the corner of his mouth; the only sign he exhibited of jest.
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Vangelis heard Selene approaching but he was safe in the knowledge that the guardsmen were standing at the doors between the library and the manual and other upon the front entryway for the public. He had ordered that no-one enter for the afternoon whilst he poured over the information hidden away in the shelves committed to Egypt. For it would do not good if his people began to riot and panic that war was coming before he could make such a statement of fact in a strong and commanding manner that would evocate strength, unity and understanding from the soldiers and their families that were about to be put to the test once more.
As such, he held no concern or fear for whomever it was, softly walking the rugs that criss-crossed upon the stone slab flooring down the aisles and routes that divided the shelving units. He noted it to be female, over the heavy boots or sandals more preferred by men - not to mention the lighter, softer tread - but beyond that, the step was unfamiliar as it was masked by the thickly woven strands of the patterned rugs. Assuming it to be his mother, searching upon his whereabouts for lunch or perhaps a mid-afternoon repast, he was surprised to look up and blink in the light that came around the corner.
Only when Selene's frame came into the aisle of cases, illuminated by the candle she carried did it throw into obvious relief just how dark it had begun to become. Blinking over what he now suddenly realised were dry eyes, drained from staring upon dusty parchment and sealed clay for too many hours on end, Vangelis' gaze shot to the rooftops where small arch windows ran the length of the wall, just beneath the ceiling. His stare was prompted by Selene's question on whether he had been there all day, and he was surprised to note that the sun had long since set. He had only been able to continue reading as he had by the minor element of moonlight that seeped in through uncovered windows and the torch brackets and candles that lined the public spaces of the library. His only little crevice of the chamber had turned very dark indeed. So gradually, however, that he hadn't noticed until the sharp and warm white light extended from candle wick to sheaths of paper.
"If it's evening then yes..." Vangelis answered with no expression of mirth but at least a lightness to his tone. "I've been here all day." The query about food, simply had him shaking his head as if such a concern was trivial.
"I have been too engrossed."
Shuffling some of the books around himself and then rubbing a hand down his face and pinching at his eyes to relieve some of the sudden tiredness he felt behind them, Vangelis blinked rapidly and then turned his gaze once more upon the dark outline of Selene'a gown and the way the candle let her hair appearing brightest white in the gloom.
"What brings you into the darkness, Selene?" He asked her, this time with a slight curl at the corner of his mouth; the only sign he exhibited of jest.
Vangelis heard Selene approaching but he was safe in the knowledge that the guardsmen were standing at the doors between the library and the manual and other upon the front entryway for the public. He had ordered that no-one enter for the afternoon whilst he poured over the information hidden away in the shelves committed to Egypt. For it would do not good if his people began to riot and panic that war was coming before he could make such a statement of fact in a strong and commanding manner that would evocate strength, unity and understanding from the soldiers and their families that were about to be put to the test once more.
As such, he held no concern or fear for whomever it was, softly walking the rugs that criss-crossed upon the stone slab flooring down the aisles and routes that divided the shelving units. He noted it to be female, over the heavy boots or sandals more preferred by men - not to mention the lighter, softer tread - but beyond that, the step was unfamiliar as it was masked by the thickly woven strands of the patterned rugs. Assuming it to be his mother, searching upon his whereabouts for lunch or perhaps a mid-afternoon repast, he was surprised to look up and blink in the light that came around the corner.
Only when Selene's frame came into the aisle of cases, illuminated by the candle she carried did it throw into obvious relief just how dark it had begun to become. Blinking over what he now suddenly realised were dry eyes, drained from staring upon dusty parchment and sealed clay for too many hours on end, Vangelis' gaze shot to the rooftops where small arch windows ran the length of the wall, just beneath the ceiling. His stare was prompted by Selene's question on whether he had been there all day, and he was surprised to note that the sun had long since set. He had only been able to continue reading as he had by the minor element of moonlight that seeped in through uncovered windows and the torch brackets and candles that lined the public spaces of the library. His only little crevice of the chamber had turned very dark indeed. So gradually, however, that he hadn't noticed until the sharp and warm white light extended from candle wick to sheaths of paper.
"If it's evening then yes..." Vangelis answered with no expression of mirth but at least a lightness to his tone. "I've been here all day." The query about food, simply had him shaking his head as if such a concern was trivial.
"I have been too engrossed."
Shuffling some of the books around himself and then rubbing a hand down his face and pinching at his eyes to relieve some of the sudden tiredness he felt behind them, Vangelis blinked rapidly and then turned his gaze once more upon the dark outline of Selene'a gown and the way the candle let her hair appearing brightest white in the gloom.
"What brings you into the darkness, Selene?" He asked her, this time with a slight curl at the corner of his mouth; the only sign he exhibited of jest.
She hadn’t been surprised when Zanon had told her that he had last seen Vangelis heading down to the library. He was going stir crazy, that was easy to see. A man not given to staying in one place for long due to responsibilities, Selene could tell that he was getting restless with the war on the horizon. Being in the manor of the royal family meant that she knew more than most. And there seemed to be an amount of trust given to her with her assumed title of betrothed. Her life was about to be interwoven with that of the rest of the family, so it was easy for them to bring her in and keep her in the loop.
Which meant that she was beginning to sense that war was eminent.
She would have been lying if she had said that she wasn’t disappointed not to see him at dinner that evening. Growing fond of the evening spent with the family, the eldest seemed to fit in well with the rest of the family. Even with her softer ways, Selene knew how to hold her own within the large family conversations. And she was learning the family dynamic even more so this time around, with the King sitting at the head of the table each night. And while she was there for them, too, She wanted to spend as much time with Vangelis as possible. After all, who knew how long he would be at war.
Their time was both limited and precious.
Finding him pouring over stacks of tomes and parchments, his corner dark and unlit, was the surprise. He should have had candles lit, but the lack of servants wandering the halls meant that he had dismissed them all in favor of privacy. The sensitive nature of studies must have had to do with the war, else he would have allowed the doors to remain open. There was a tension in his shoulders, and a weariness in his features. She wanted to comfort him, to rub the strong muscles to help him be at ease for the time being. Instead, she moved about the space, lighting any candles within the immediate area to better illuminate the room. It didn’t take long for the glow to wash over them, her candlestick added to a nearby table with the letter she carried.
”I had thought to do a little bit of light reading.” She said with a smile, her voice indicating that she wasn’t actually there to read. ”Your absence was noticed at dinner, and I offered to bring you something to eat.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Jo was stepping into the glow of the candles, arms loaded with a tray of food and water. As instructed, all of the items would leave no marks of their presence. She knew he wouldn’t eat if there was a chance at damaging the records. Selene dismissed Jo once the food was set next to the candle.
”So this is why I could not track you down for a ride this afternoon.” The corner of her mouth turned into her own grin, teasing him gently. It was not as if she really had sought him out actively, but if he was close to the stables, she always offered him a chance to take a break with her. And she wasn’t offended when he would turn her down due to his responsibilities. He was a busy man, which much to prepare for. ”Here. You should eat something.” She pulled the plate of cured meats, cheeses and fruit off the tray, moving to set it at his side within reach.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, she was moving her deep mahogany skirts aside as her legs folded underneath her to settle into an open space close to him. ”Maps of Egypt.” She noted, leaning forward to trace some of the lines, wondering what the landscape really looked like. There was a sudden ache in her chest as she realized that he would be leaving soon, and knowing these maps could have been the difference between his life and death. It made her all the more interested in learning everything she could as well. ”How far is the journey?” She asked, the tip of her finger wandering into the space that was the ocean.
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She hadn’t been surprised when Zanon had told her that he had last seen Vangelis heading down to the library. He was going stir crazy, that was easy to see. A man not given to staying in one place for long due to responsibilities, Selene could tell that he was getting restless with the war on the horizon. Being in the manor of the royal family meant that she knew more than most. And there seemed to be an amount of trust given to her with her assumed title of betrothed. Her life was about to be interwoven with that of the rest of the family, so it was easy for them to bring her in and keep her in the loop.
Which meant that she was beginning to sense that war was eminent.
She would have been lying if she had said that she wasn’t disappointed not to see him at dinner that evening. Growing fond of the evening spent with the family, the eldest seemed to fit in well with the rest of the family. Even with her softer ways, Selene knew how to hold her own within the large family conversations. And she was learning the family dynamic even more so this time around, with the King sitting at the head of the table each night. And while she was there for them, too, She wanted to spend as much time with Vangelis as possible. After all, who knew how long he would be at war.
Their time was both limited and precious.
Finding him pouring over stacks of tomes and parchments, his corner dark and unlit, was the surprise. He should have had candles lit, but the lack of servants wandering the halls meant that he had dismissed them all in favor of privacy. The sensitive nature of studies must have had to do with the war, else he would have allowed the doors to remain open. There was a tension in his shoulders, and a weariness in his features. She wanted to comfort him, to rub the strong muscles to help him be at ease for the time being. Instead, she moved about the space, lighting any candles within the immediate area to better illuminate the room. It didn’t take long for the glow to wash over them, her candlestick added to a nearby table with the letter she carried.
”I had thought to do a little bit of light reading.” She said with a smile, her voice indicating that she wasn’t actually there to read. ”Your absence was noticed at dinner, and I offered to bring you something to eat.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Jo was stepping into the glow of the candles, arms loaded with a tray of food and water. As instructed, all of the items would leave no marks of their presence. She knew he wouldn’t eat if there was a chance at damaging the records. Selene dismissed Jo once the food was set next to the candle.
”So this is why I could not track you down for a ride this afternoon.” The corner of her mouth turned into her own grin, teasing him gently. It was not as if she really had sought him out actively, but if he was close to the stables, she always offered him a chance to take a break with her. And she wasn’t offended when he would turn her down due to his responsibilities. He was a busy man, which much to prepare for. ”Here. You should eat something.” She pulled the plate of cured meats, cheeses and fruit off the tray, moving to set it at his side within reach.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, she was moving her deep mahogany skirts aside as her legs folded underneath her to settle into an open space close to him. ”Maps of Egypt.” She noted, leaning forward to trace some of the lines, wondering what the landscape really looked like. There was a sudden ache in her chest as she realized that he would be leaving soon, and knowing these maps could have been the difference between his life and death. It made her all the more interested in learning everything she could as well. ”How far is the journey?” She asked, the tip of her finger wandering into the space that was the ocean.
She hadn’t been surprised when Zanon had told her that he had last seen Vangelis heading down to the library. He was going stir crazy, that was easy to see. A man not given to staying in one place for long due to responsibilities, Selene could tell that he was getting restless with the war on the horizon. Being in the manor of the royal family meant that she knew more than most. And there seemed to be an amount of trust given to her with her assumed title of betrothed. Her life was about to be interwoven with that of the rest of the family, so it was easy for them to bring her in and keep her in the loop.
Which meant that she was beginning to sense that war was eminent.
She would have been lying if she had said that she wasn’t disappointed not to see him at dinner that evening. Growing fond of the evening spent with the family, the eldest seemed to fit in well with the rest of the family. Even with her softer ways, Selene knew how to hold her own within the large family conversations. And she was learning the family dynamic even more so this time around, with the King sitting at the head of the table each night. And while she was there for them, too, She wanted to spend as much time with Vangelis as possible. After all, who knew how long he would be at war.
Their time was both limited and precious.
Finding him pouring over stacks of tomes and parchments, his corner dark and unlit, was the surprise. He should have had candles lit, but the lack of servants wandering the halls meant that he had dismissed them all in favor of privacy. The sensitive nature of studies must have had to do with the war, else he would have allowed the doors to remain open. There was a tension in his shoulders, and a weariness in his features. She wanted to comfort him, to rub the strong muscles to help him be at ease for the time being. Instead, she moved about the space, lighting any candles within the immediate area to better illuminate the room. It didn’t take long for the glow to wash over them, her candlestick added to a nearby table with the letter she carried.
”I had thought to do a little bit of light reading.” She said with a smile, her voice indicating that she wasn’t actually there to read. ”Your absence was noticed at dinner, and I offered to bring you something to eat.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Jo was stepping into the glow of the candles, arms loaded with a tray of food and water. As instructed, all of the items would leave no marks of their presence. She knew he wouldn’t eat if there was a chance at damaging the records. Selene dismissed Jo once the food was set next to the candle.
”So this is why I could not track you down for a ride this afternoon.” The corner of her mouth turned into her own grin, teasing him gently. It was not as if she really had sought him out actively, but if he was close to the stables, she always offered him a chance to take a break with her. And she wasn’t offended when he would turn her down due to his responsibilities. He was a busy man, which much to prepare for. ”Here. You should eat something.” She pulled the plate of cured meats, cheeses and fruit off the tray, moving to set it at his side within reach.
Then, with a flick of her wrist, she was moving her deep mahogany skirts aside as her legs folded underneath her to settle into an open space close to him. ”Maps of Egypt.” She noted, leaning forward to trace some of the lines, wondering what the landscape really looked like. There was a sudden ache in her chest as she realized that he would be leaving soon, and knowing these maps could have been the difference between his life and death. It made her all the more interested in learning everything she could as well. ”How far is the journey?” She asked, the tip of her finger wandering into the space that was the ocean.
Knowing that Selene was the determined sort, it took only her words of confirmation that she had seen to food being brought to convince him that she was not simply here to identify his presence and then leave. She was here to talk and ensure that he cared for his stomach. Not to mention his eyes. For she moved around the little space in which they found themselves, lighting available candles and ensuring that they were carefully placed so that each orb of light intersected enough to stain the aisle space just a little golden in dim, flickering warmth.
Vangelis said nothing when Jo appeared with the promised tray of food and, instead, simply moved to shuffle papers out of the way and create a little tower of large tomes that Selene might be able to sit upon, so that she was not forced to curl onto the floor alongside him.
When she dismissed her serving girl and then turned to blame his sudden fixation with historical records for him missing a ride with her that afternoon, he began to look towards her with contrition on his face. Yet her light tone and bright eyes were not chastising in return and he allowed the apologetic expression to drop. Whilst he would always be sorry to disappoint the woman whom he had come to care for and had agreed to share his life with, he would have been more concerned if she had truly missed his company in a way that would damage their relationship. For the woman that married the future king of Colchis would have to suffer much if she could not withstand his absence.
When she set to one side the plate of cheeses, meats and fruit beside him, Vangelis gave her a stare that silently communicated a soft and irrational chastisement for her efforts. A look that was given perhaps between parents and child when care was shown where it was appreciated but not necessary. The look was then followed by a nod and murmur of thanks that was almost an impossible to decipher rumble through his chest.
As he reached for one of the pre-cut pieces of cheese on the plate and popped it into his mouth, he noted Selene leaning over the books in a curious manner that he did not tell her to halt. As his wife, she would need to be kept abreast of any and all information regarding the war that was necessary for her to know, and he had ensured that they would not be disturbed by barring the doors for today. Anything she had to say and ask upon would be kept private between them and he had no qualms about her inquisitions.
When the cheese crumbles between his teeth and rolled across his tongue, Vangelis closed his eyes for a moment as he realised just how hungry he was. Remembering that he hadn't had time to eat that morning and had been here all day, his stomach was quick to remind him that this was the first morsel he had consumed since sunrise. He picked up another piece of cheese and accompanied it with a strip of meat that he neatly folded around the dairy and then popped into his mouth. He sucked the tips of his fingers to remove the residue and then brushed them on the thigh of his pants as he chewed, watching Selene's interest.
"Roughly the same again from Colchis to Taengea." He told her, when she asked about the journey, his mouthful stowed in his cheek as he spoke. He then swallowed and brushed his mouth carefully on the back of his hand in a manner that his mother would have been horrified at. "Given the time to stop and resupply in your homeland, and the speed we can push the ships, we should hit the northern coast of Africa in a little over a month."
Vangelis found himself watching Selene's features carefully in the darkness, curious as to how she would handle this first war campaign since they had agreed that - pending permissions - they would marry. Would she accept that she would be spending more of her life outside of his company than within it? Would the reality be too difficult to process or allow? She was a smart woman so could easily do the maths... a month to journey to Egypt, meant a month to journey home. And Egypt was the largest kingdom in Mesopotamia. Who knew where the fight would take them, how many weeks of marching would be required to even see the battlefield? Then there was the fighting itself and how it could last weeks and months. If a single battle to extend towards several months long and each war campaign was likely to hold at least a half dozen of them... In addition to travel time and the risk of rough seas doubling that... It was very easy to surmise that the warriors of Colchis might not return to the Kirakles shores for several years... If they returned at all.
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Knowing that Selene was the determined sort, it took only her words of confirmation that she had seen to food being brought to convince him that she was not simply here to identify his presence and then leave. She was here to talk and ensure that he cared for his stomach. Not to mention his eyes. For she moved around the little space in which they found themselves, lighting available candles and ensuring that they were carefully placed so that each orb of light intersected enough to stain the aisle space just a little golden in dim, flickering warmth.
Vangelis said nothing when Jo appeared with the promised tray of food and, instead, simply moved to shuffle papers out of the way and create a little tower of large tomes that Selene might be able to sit upon, so that she was not forced to curl onto the floor alongside him.
When she dismissed her serving girl and then turned to blame his sudden fixation with historical records for him missing a ride with her that afternoon, he began to look towards her with contrition on his face. Yet her light tone and bright eyes were not chastising in return and he allowed the apologetic expression to drop. Whilst he would always be sorry to disappoint the woman whom he had come to care for and had agreed to share his life with, he would have been more concerned if she had truly missed his company in a way that would damage their relationship. For the woman that married the future king of Colchis would have to suffer much if she could not withstand his absence.
When she set to one side the plate of cheeses, meats and fruit beside him, Vangelis gave her a stare that silently communicated a soft and irrational chastisement for her efforts. A look that was given perhaps between parents and child when care was shown where it was appreciated but not necessary. The look was then followed by a nod and murmur of thanks that was almost an impossible to decipher rumble through his chest.
As he reached for one of the pre-cut pieces of cheese on the plate and popped it into his mouth, he noted Selene leaning over the books in a curious manner that he did not tell her to halt. As his wife, she would need to be kept abreast of any and all information regarding the war that was necessary for her to know, and he had ensured that they would not be disturbed by barring the doors for today. Anything she had to say and ask upon would be kept private between them and he had no qualms about her inquisitions.
When the cheese crumbles between his teeth and rolled across his tongue, Vangelis closed his eyes for a moment as he realised just how hungry he was. Remembering that he hadn't had time to eat that morning and had been here all day, his stomach was quick to remind him that this was the first morsel he had consumed since sunrise. He picked up another piece of cheese and accompanied it with a strip of meat that he neatly folded around the dairy and then popped into his mouth. He sucked the tips of his fingers to remove the residue and then brushed them on the thigh of his pants as he chewed, watching Selene's interest.
"Roughly the same again from Colchis to Taengea." He told her, when she asked about the journey, his mouthful stowed in his cheek as he spoke. He then swallowed and brushed his mouth carefully on the back of his hand in a manner that his mother would have been horrified at. "Given the time to stop and resupply in your homeland, and the speed we can push the ships, we should hit the northern coast of Africa in a little over a month."
Vangelis found himself watching Selene's features carefully in the darkness, curious as to how she would handle this first war campaign since they had agreed that - pending permissions - they would marry. Would she accept that she would be spending more of her life outside of his company than within it? Would the reality be too difficult to process or allow? She was a smart woman so could easily do the maths... a month to journey to Egypt, meant a month to journey home. And Egypt was the largest kingdom in Mesopotamia. Who knew where the fight would take them, how many weeks of marching would be required to even see the battlefield? Then there was the fighting itself and how it could last weeks and months. If a single battle to extend towards several months long and each war campaign was likely to hold at least a half dozen of them... In addition to travel time and the risk of rough seas doubling that... It was very easy to surmise that the warriors of Colchis might not return to the Kirakles shores for several years... If they returned at all.
Knowing that Selene was the determined sort, it took only her words of confirmation that she had seen to food being brought to convince him that she was not simply here to identify his presence and then leave. She was here to talk and ensure that he cared for his stomach. Not to mention his eyes. For she moved around the little space in which they found themselves, lighting available candles and ensuring that they were carefully placed so that each orb of light intersected enough to stain the aisle space just a little golden in dim, flickering warmth.
Vangelis said nothing when Jo appeared with the promised tray of food and, instead, simply moved to shuffle papers out of the way and create a little tower of large tomes that Selene might be able to sit upon, so that she was not forced to curl onto the floor alongside him.
When she dismissed her serving girl and then turned to blame his sudden fixation with historical records for him missing a ride with her that afternoon, he began to look towards her with contrition on his face. Yet her light tone and bright eyes were not chastising in return and he allowed the apologetic expression to drop. Whilst he would always be sorry to disappoint the woman whom he had come to care for and had agreed to share his life with, he would have been more concerned if she had truly missed his company in a way that would damage their relationship. For the woman that married the future king of Colchis would have to suffer much if she could not withstand his absence.
When she set to one side the plate of cheeses, meats and fruit beside him, Vangelis gave her a stare that silently communicated a soft and irrational chastisement for her efforts. A look that was given perhaps between parents and child when care was shown where it was appreciated but not necessary. The look was then followed by a nod and murmur of thanks that was almost an impossible to decipher rumble through his chest.
As he reached for one of the pre-cut pieces of cheese on the plate and popped it into his mouth, he noted Selene leaning over the books in a curious manner that he did not tell her to halt. As his wife, she would need to be kept abreast of any and all information regarding the war that was necessary for her to know, and he had ensured that they would not be disturbed by barring the doors for today. Anything she had to say and ask upon would be kept private between them and he had no qualms about her inquisitions.
When the cheese crumbles between his teeth and rolled across his tongue, Vangelis closed his eyes for a moment as he realised just how hungry he was. Remembering that he hadn't had time to eat that morning and had been here all day, his stomach was quick to remind him that this was the first morsel he had consumed since sunrise. He picked up another piece of cheese and accompanied it with a strip of meat that he neatly folded around the dairy and then popped into his mouth. He sucked the tips of his fingers to remove the residue and then brushed them on the thigh of his pants as he chewed, watching Selene's interest.
"Roughly the same again from Colchis to Taengea." He told her, when she asked about the journey, his mouthful stowed in his cheek as he spoke. He then swallowed and brushed his mouth carefully on the back of his hand in a manner that his mother would have been horrified at. "Given the time to stop and resupply in your homeland, and the speed we can push the ships, we should hit the northern coast of Africa in a little over a month."
Vangelis found himself watching Selene's features carefully in the darkness, curious as to how she would handle this first war campaign since they had agreed that - pending permissions - they would marry. Would she accept that she would be spending more of her life outside of his company than within it? Would the reality be too difficult to process or allow? She was a smart woman so could easily do the maths... a month to journey to Egypt, meant a month to journey home. And Egypt was the largest kingdom in Mesopotamia. Who knew where the fight would take them, how many weeks of marching would be required to even see the battlefield? Then there was the fighting itself and how it could last weeks and months. If a single battle to extend towards several months long and each war campaign was likely to hold at least a half dozen of them... In addition to travel time and the risk of rough seas doubling that... It was very easy to surmise that the warriors of Colchis might not return to the Kirakles shores for several years... If they returned at all.
There had been a time, with him, that she would have thought twice about assuming that he was in need of any additional care. He was a man who was used to getting on without assistance, or without having anyone besides family doing anything for him. And while she might have been concerned in the beginning that he would be offended by her actions, instead she accepted that fact that he wished her to be family. And if that was the case, then he would have to get used to the idea of his comfort and wellbeing was one of her utmost concerns. Her duty, as his wife, would be to make sure that he wanted for nothing within the home.
And she was nothing if not well trained to see to that, within reason.
So the sideways way in which his eyes met hers were met with a shrug, not all that concerned if he thought the action unnecessary. Instead, she was met with the loud sound of gratitude that was given by his stomach. If he was having difficulty focusing further, perhaps nourishment would assist. And it would allow him to stay longer, to learn more. This was to be her home, and she did not have an issue making him see that she would be a good wife, not just a good queen. He would just have to get used to having her around. Just as she would have to get used to being without him.
”It’s all so small,” She commented, trying to gain perspective on the size of it all. ”It is hard to imagine a month’s time to travel when it is but a finger’s breadth on a map.” Now that she had traveled, had made the journey between kingdoms, she truly understood just how much time would pass before he was there. Her fingers traced the path, from Colchis to Taegnea, then from there to Egypt. ”Has Achilleas set sail already then? Or will he wait for you?”
The longer she sat there, looking at the map before them, the more it became apparent that her knowledge in the political ways of war. There had been no need to educate her in it, since they had been in a time of peace. And as a lady, she wouldn’t need to know the whys and hows of military might. But if she was to be the Queen of a kingdom that was the very definition of military power, Selene felt as if she needed to know more. And found herself wishing that she had asked sooner, had thought to come down here herself to learn what she might need to know.
Brushing back the hair that had blocked her view, she tucked the curl behind her ear. And just like that, it was becoming more and more apparent that it was a good thing she was marrying into a large family, for there would be times when could be gone for far longer than she had thought before. War was different than any military missions she’d been familiar with. How many months would be spent without him? And how often would she find herself longing for him beside her? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she knew that she wanted him. And if that meant being alone while he served his people, then she would do it. She would channel Queen Yanni in her strength, and would mourn his absence in private.
”Would we wed beforehand?” She was trying not to sound selfish, knowing that there were far more important things to worry about than a wedding. But she needed to know what to expect. Would she be hovering around the manor with little responsibility as simply his fiancee? Would she return home at that time, waiting for him to return and come claim her? Or would she be his wife, with a home to run and plenty of distractions to keep her from thinking too long about him? ”I am sure it is the least of your concerns at this point-- I am just curious.” How could she be offended by his distracted manner when so many lives were depending on his success?
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There had been a time, with him, that she would have thought twice about assuming that he was in need of any additional care. He was a man who was used to getting on without assistance, or without having anyone besides family doing anything for him. And while she might have been concerned in the beginning that he would be offended by her actions, instead she accepted that fact that he wished her to be family. And if that was the case, then he would have to get used to the idea of his comfort and wellbeing was one of her utmost concerns. Her duty, as his wife, would be to make sure that he wanted for nothing within the home.
And she was nothing if not well trained to see to that, within reason.
So the sideways way in which his eyes met hers were met with a shrug, not all that concerned if he thought the action unnecessary. Instead, she was met with the loud sound of gratitude that was given by his stomach. If he was having difficulty focusing further, perhaps nourishment would assist. And it would allow him to stay longer, to learn more. This was to be her home, and she did not have an issue making him see that she would be a good wife, not just a good queen. He would just have to get used to having her around. Just as she would have to get used to being without him.
”It’s all so small,” She commented, trying to gain perspective on the size of it all. ”It is hard to imagine a month’s time to travel when it is but a finger’s breadth on a map.” Now that she had traveled, had made the journey between kingdoms, she truly understood just how much time would pass before he was there. Her fingers traced the path, from Colchis to Taegnea, then from there to Egypt. ”Has Achilleas set sail already then? Or will he wait for you?”
The longer she sat there, looking at the map before them, the more it became apparent that her knowledge in the political ways of war. There had been no need to educate her in it, since they had been in a time of peace. And as a lady, she wouldn’t need to know the whys and hows of military might. But if she was to be the Queen of a kingdom that was the very definition of military power, Selene felt as if she needed to know more. And found herself wishing that she had asked sooner, had thought to come down here herself to learn what she might need to know.
Brushing back the hair that had blocked her view, she tucked the curl behind her ear. And just like that, it was becoming more and more apparent that it was a good thing she was marrying into a large family, for there would be times when could be gone for far longer than she had thought before. War was different than any military missions she’d been familiar with. How many months would be spent without him? And how often would she find herself longing for him beside her? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she knew that she wanted him. And if that meant being alone while he served his people, then she would do it. She would channel Queen Yanni in her strength, and would mourn his absence in private.
”Would we wed beforehand?” She was trying not to sound selfish, knowing that there were far more important things to worry about than a wedding. But she needed to know what to expect. Would she be hovering around the manor with little responsibility as simply his fiancee? Would she return home at that time, waiting for him to return and come claim her? Or would she be his wife, with a home to run and plenty of distractions to keep her from thinking too long about him? ”I am sure it is the least of your concerns at this point-- I am just curious.” How could she be offended by his distracted manner when so many lives were depending on his success?
There had been a time, with him, that she would have thought twice about assuming that he was in need of any additional care. He was a man who was used to getting on without assistance, or without having anyone besides family doing anything for him. And while she might have been concerned in the beginning that he would be offended by her actions, instead she accepted that fact that he wished her to be family. And if that was the case, then he would have to get used to the idea of his comfort and wellbeing was one of her utmost concerns. Her duty, as his wife, would be to make sure that he wanted for nothing within the home.
And she was nothing if not well trained to see to that, within reason.
So the sideways way in which his eyes met hers were met with a shrug, not all that concerned if he thought the action unnecessary. Instead, she was met with the loud sound of gratitude that was given by his stomach. If he was having difficulty focusing further, perhaps nourishment would assist. And it would allow him to stay longer, to learn more. This was to be her home, and she did not have an issue making him see that she would be a good wife, not just a good queen. He would just have to get used to having her around. Just as she would have to get used to being without him.
”It’s all so small,” She commented, trying to gain perspective on the size of it all. ”It is hard to imagine a month’s time to travel when it is but a finger’s breadth on a map.” Now that she had traveled, had made the journey between kingdoms, she truly understood just how much time would pass before he was there. Her fingers traced the path, from Colchis to Taegnea, then from there to Egypt. ”Has Achilleas set sail already then? Or will he wait for you?”
The longer she sat there, looking at the map before them, the more it became apparent that her knowledge in the political ways of war. There had been no need to educate her in it, since they had been in a time of peace. And as a lady, she wouldn’t need to know the whys and hows of military might. But if she was to be the Queen of a kingdom that was the very definition of military power, Selene felt as if she needed to know more. And found herself wishing that she had asked sooner, had thought to come down here herself to learn what she might need to know.
Brushing back the hair that had blocked her view, she tucked the curl behind her ear. And just like that, it was becoming more and more apparent that it was a good thing she was marrying into a large family, for there would be times when could be gone for far longer than she had thought before. War was different than any military missions she’d been familiar with. How many months would be spent without him? And how often would she find herself longing for him beside her? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she knew that she wanted him. And if that meant being alone while he served his people, then she would do it. She would channel Queen Yanni in her strength, and would mourn his absence in private.
”Would we wed beforehand?” She was trying not to sound selfish, knowing that there were far more important things to worry about than a wedding. But she needed to know what to expect. Would she be hovering around the manor with little responsibility as simply his fiancee? Would she return home at that time, waiting for him to return and come claim her? Or would she be his wife, with a home to run and plenty of distractions to keep her from thinking too long about him? ”I am sure it is the least of your concerns at this point-- I am just curious.” How could she be offended by his distracted manner when so many lives were depending on his success?
The corner of Vangelis' mouth turned to curl a little at the almost childlike wonder in Selene's voice when she commented on the world being so small when applied to ink and parchment, yet monstrous when you were forced to journey across it. His next exhale, as he chewed upon a grape he had plucked from the plate beside his foot, came in a slight huff through his nose - a familiar noise of amusement that was his equivalent of a low laugh. A man not expressive in his emotions, it was the subtle signals of face and breath that gave away his truer thoughts and feelings.
"It does not feel small when sailing upon it." He commented, as if to himself, his mind already far away upon the waves and ready to face the Egyptians.
He was brought back to focus when she asked if her friend and now brother-in-law had already sailed in order to face the threats from the south. Shifting a little where he sat and drawing up his legs to bring his limbs into a cross-legged position upon the floor, his muscles needing a little movement to work out the aching creaks of being in the same position for too long, Vangelis shook his head. There was no way that the new king of Taengea would be waiting upon him and his men.
"I expect King Achilleas to be setting sail any day now." He told her, being careful of how he explained his next concerns, nervous of a more feminine and emotional response from Selene than he might get from others he would normally have militant conversations with. "His plan is to attack a naval contingency of Egyptians to the north of the Nile. Grecian intelligence has told us that the Pharaoh plans to use those ships to launch an attack on Taengea. King Achilleas plans to cut their legs from beneath them before they have the chance to set sail. If he succeeds... Colchian soldiers may not be necessary at all. If he fails or there are other forces at work, then we shall arrive to lend him aid perhaps four to six weeks after he lands in Egyptian soil."
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The corner of Vangelis' mouth turned to curl a little at the almost childlike wonder in Selene's voice when she commented on the world being so small when applied to ink and parchment, yet monstrous when you were forced to journey across it. His next exhale, as he chewed upon a grape he had plucked from the plate beside his foot, came in a slight huff through his nose - a familiar noise of amusement that was his equivalent of a low laugh. A man not expressive in his emotions, it was the subtle signals of face and breath that gave away his truer thoughts and feelings.
"It does not feel small when sailing upon it." He commented, as if to himself, his mind already far away upon the waves and ready to face the Egyptians.
He was brought back to focus when she asked if her friend and now brother-in-law had already sailed in order to face the threats from the south. Shifting a little where he sat and drawing up his legs to bring his limbs into a cross-legged position upon the floor, his muscles needing a little movement to work out the aching creaks of being in the same position for too long, Vangelis shook his head. There was no way that the new king of Taengea would be waiting upon him and his men.
"I expect King Achilleas to be setting sail any day now." He told her, being careful of how he explained his next concerns, nervous of a more feminine and emotional response from Selene than he might get from others he would normally have militant conversations with. "His plan is to attack a naval contingency of Egyptians to the north of the Nile. Grecian intelligence has told us that the Pharaoh plans to use those ships to launch an attack on Taengea. King Achilleas plans to cut their legs from beneath them before they have the chance to set sail. If he succeeds... Colchian soldiers may not be necessary at all. If he fails or there are other forces at work, then we shall arrive to lend him aid perhaps four to six weeks after he lands in Egyptian soil."
The corner of Vangelis' mouth turned to curl a little at the almost childlike wonder in Selene's voice when she commented on the world being so small when applied to ink and parchment, yet monstrous when you were forced to journey across it. His next exhale, as he chewed upon a grape he had plucked from the plate beside his foot, came in a slight huff through his nose - a familiar noise of amusement that was his equivalent of a low laugh. A man not expressive in his emotions, it was the subtle signals of face and breath that gave away his truer thoughts and feelings.
"It does not feel small when sailing upon it." He commented, as if to himself, his mind already far away upon the waves and ready to face the Egyptians.
He was brought back to focus when she asked if her friend and now brother-in-law had already sailed in order to face the threats from the south. Shifting a little where he sat and drawing up his legs to bring his limbs into a cross-legged position upon the floor, his muscles needing a little movement to work out the aching creaks of being in the same position for too long, Vangelis shook his head. There was no way that the new king of Taengea would be waiting upon him and his men.
"I expect King Achilleas to be setting sail any day now." He told her, being careful of how he explained his next concerns, nervous of a more feminine and emotional response from Selene than he might get from others he would normally have militant conversations with. "His plan is to attack a naval contingency of Egyptians to the north of the Nile. Grecian intelligence has told us that the Pharaoh plans to use those ships to launch an attack on Taengea. King Achilleas plans to cut their legs from beneath them before they have the chance to set sail. If he succeeds... Colchian soldiers may not be necessary at all. If he fails or there are other forces at work, then we shall arrive to lend him aid perhaps four to six weeks after he lands in Egyptian soil."
”That much, I can now appreciate.” She smiled at him, eyes locking at the shared mirth. Being on the ship from her home to his had seemed like forever, only made worse by the tension between her sister and Stephanos. The days dragged on, when she wasn’t taking care of the babe or Pia. She could not imagine what it would be like to be stuck on a ship with such a dangerous destination. Men clumped together, unsure who would be on the return voyage, trying to pass the time until fate met them at the shores.
Men seemed to have a hard burden to bear.
”I am sure he will be glad for the assistance.” She reached up to the table, where her own plate sat. Bringing it down close to his, she quietly ate a few pieces of cheese as she worked through the particulars of what he was saying to her. Her eyes were focused mostly on the map, as if she was calculating the time it would take to do what needed to be done before returning him. ”Although, I must confess that I am confused as to what changed between our relations with the Egyptians.” She found herself wondering if she had played a role at all. ”How did any of this start in the first place? What caused the first war?”
It was becoming clear that she knew little about the history behind it, but then again, why would she need to know anything? Her lot in life had been as a future Queen, hopes lying in a kingdom that was not known for its need for war. Her focus had been how to maintain a house, how to entertain a crowd. Perhaps Theo had spent more time on history, but her own education was painfully lacking.
”And why now?” She pressed further. ”One minute, General Osorsen has a horse to offer Stephanos, the next they are looking to invade?” Her head shook, ”I must have missed something in between.” Her cheeks flushed a bit at the conversation she had with the Sirdar, playing it back in her mind as she searching for any hint of discourse in his words. ”He did not seem like a man set on battle.”
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”That much, I can now appreciate.” She smiled at him, eyes locking at the shared mirth. Being on the ship from her home to his had seemed like forever, only made worse by the tension between her sister and Stephanos. The days dragged on, when she wasn’t taking care of the babe or Pia. She could not imagine what it would be like to be stuck on a ship with such a dangerous destination. Men clumped together, unsure who would be on the return voyage, trying to pass the time until fate met them at the shores.
Men seemed to have a hard burden to bear.
”I am sure he will be glad for the assistance.” She reached up to the table, where her own plate sat. Bringing it down close to his, she quietly ate a few pieces of cheese as she worked through the particulars of what he was saying to her. Her eyes were focused mostly on the map, as if she was calculating the time it would take to do what needed to be done before returning him. ”Although, I must confess that I am confused as to what changed between our relations with the Egyptians.” She found herself wondering if she had played a role at all. ”How did any of this start in the first place? What caused the first war?”
It was becoming clear that she knew little about the history behind it, but then again, why would she need to know anything? Her lot in life had been as a future Queen, hopes lying in a kingdom that was not known for its need for war. Her focus had been how to maintain a house, how to entertain a crowd. Perhaps Theo had spent more time on history, but her own education was painfully lacking.
”And why now?” She pressed further. ”One minute, General Osorsen has a horse to offer Stephanos, the next they are looking to invade?” Her head shook, ”I must have missed something in between.” Her cheeks flushed a bit at the conversation she had with the Sirdar, playing it back in her mind as she searching for any hint of discourse in his words. ”He did not seem like a man set on battle.”
”That much, I can now appreciate.” She smiled at him, eyes locking at the shared mirth. Being on the ship from her home to his had seemed like forever, only made worse by the tension between her sister and Stephanos. The days dragged on, when she wasn’t taking care of the babe or Pia. She could not imagine what it would be like to be stuck on a ship with such a dangerous destination. Men clumped together, unsure who would be on the return voyage, trying to pass the time until fate met them at the shores.
Men seemed to have a hard burden to bear.
”I am sure he will be glad for the assistance.” She reached up to the table, where her own plate sat. Bringing it down close to his, she quietly ate a few pieces of cheese as she worked through the particulars of what he was saying to her. Her eyes were focused mostly on the map, as if she was calculating the time it would take to do what needed to be done before returning him. ”Although, I must confess that I am confused as to what changed between our relations with the Egyptians.” She found herself wondering if she had played a role at all. ”How did any of this start in the first place? What caused the first war?”
It was becoming clear that she knew little about the history behind it, but then again, why would she need to know anything? Her lot in life had been as a future Queen, hopes lying in a kingdom that was not known for its need for war. Her focus had been how to maintain a house, how to entertain a crowd. Perhaps Theo had spent more time on history, but her own education was painfully lacking.
”And why now?” She pressed further. ”One minute, General Osorsen has a horse to offer Stephanos, the next they are looking to invade?” Her head shook, ”I must have missed something in between.” Her cheeks flushed a bit at the conversation she had with the Sirdar, playing it back in her mind as she searching for any hint of discourse in his words. ”He did not seem like a man set on battle.”
Vangelis approved of Selene's curiosity over international relations but he also didn't have all of the answers for her. A man who had spent so much of his life training and ensuring physical prowess did not have the time remaining to take such history lessons so far back. For when Selene referred to the 'first war' he thought he likely she was talking of the battles that had been between their kingdoms just over ten years ago. Yet, that was far from the first conflict with Egypt. And he was open to saying so without it seeming like a critique upon her knowledge.
"The war with Egypt a decade ago was only the first conflict of our lifetimes." He told her, selecting a few more grapes and popping them into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and then continued as his fingertips selected a piece of break and broke off a hunk of cheese that would fit upon its surface. He was careful to ensure that the morsels he selected were held carefully between his fingers so that they would not crumble or drip upon the materials still laid out in every direction. "Egypt and one of the Greek kingdoms have been at odds for generations. Greece used to lay claim to part of the African continent. Taengea ruled it specifically. The first wars between the nations were over land as Egypt unified and looked to their borders for expansion."
Vangelis spoke with a calm that laid blame nowhere for such wars. It was as if he saw battle and conflict as a necessary and unfortunate reality of the world; that it didn't matter who was right and who was wrong or who started what. It wasn't that he was complacent over the idea of violence. But more a case of him knowing through experience that anger and resentment at the enemy never served you well on the battlefield. It only clouded judgement with emotion and efficiency with rage.
"Since then our nations have found issue upon just about everything: trade, negotiations, land, resources... Gods and the faiths we each hold. To the point where we've sided with others against one another." The reference was to the fact that the Greek nations had turned to Judea's aid in their last conflict with Egypt twenty years ago.
"It's a common anger that I suspect now has more to do with the new Pharaoh than anything else." With new rulers came new agendas. Sometimes that was an agenda of greed and expansion, at other times the security and protection of one's people. Vangelis held no inclination to tell Egypt how to run their kingdom or choose their kings. He could only defend his own nation and allies when such choices threatened them.
This last was in reference to Selene's next question as she mentioned the General who had been in attendance at the court session in Taengea. At the mention of Osorsen, Vangelis turned back to his food, a disquiet in his gut reminding him of his dislike for the only General who had ever seemed to have the chance of beating him in open combat.
"And indication that Taengea was weak... such as missing a king... would have seemed like an open invitation to invasion." He told her, again without blame but only objectivity. His jaw tightened as his voice deepened with a rougher tone of dislike. "And Osorsen has never been a man set on battle." His gaze flickered her way. "His nature turns more to a desire for conquest, I think."
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Vangelis approved of Selene's curiosity over international relations but he also didn't have all of the answers for her. A man who had spent so much of his life training and ensuring physical prowess did not have the time remaining to take such history lessons so far back. For when Selene referred to the 'first war' he thought he likely she was talking of the battles that had been between their kingdoms just over ten years ago. Yet, that was far from the first conflict with Egypt. And he was open to saying so without it seeming like a critique upon her knowledge.
"The war with Egypt a decade ago was only the first conflict of our lifetimes." He told her, selecting a few more grapes and popping them into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and then continued as his fingertips selected a piece of break and broke off a hunk of cheese that would fit upon its surface. He was careful to ensure that the morsels he selected were held carefully between his fingers so that they would not crumble or drip upon the materials still laid out in every direction. "Egypt and one of the Greek kingdoms have been at odds for generations. Greece used to lay claim to part of the African continent. Taengea ruled it specifically. The first wars between the nations were over land as Egypt unified and looked to their borders for expansion."
Vangelis spoke with a calm that laid blame nowhere for such wars. It was as if he saw battle and conflict as a necessary and unfortunate reality of the world; that it didn't matter who was right and who was wrong or who started what. It wasn't that he was complacent over the idea of violence. But more a case of him knowing through experience that anger and resentment at the enemy never served you well on the battlefield. It only clouded judgement with emotion and efficiency with rage.
"Since then our nations have found issue upon just about everything: trade, negotiations, land, resources... Gods and the faiths we each hold. To the point where we've sided with others against one another." The reference was to the fact that the Greek nations had turned to Judea's aid in their last conflict with Egypt twenty years ago.
"It's a common anger that I suspect now has more to do with the new Pharaoh than anything else." With new rulers came new agendas. Sometimes that was an agenda of greed and expansion, at other times the security and protection of one's people. Vangelis held no inclination to tell Egypt how to run their kingdom or choose their kings. He could only defend his own nation and allies when such choices threatened them.
This last was in reference to Selene's next question as she mentioned the General who had been in attendance at the court session in Taengea. At the mention of Osorsen, Vangelis turned back to his food, a disquiet in his gut reminding him of his dislike for the only General who had ever seemed to have the chance of beating him in open combat.
"And indication that Taengea was weak... such as missing a king... would have seemed like an open invitation to invasion." He told her, again without blame but only objectivity. His jaw tightened as his voice deepened with a rougher tone of dislike. "And Osorsen has never been a man set on battle." His gaze flickered her way. "His nature turns more to a desire for conquest, I think."
Vangelis approved of Selene's curiosity over international relations but he also didn't have all of the answers for her. A man who had spent so much of his life training and ensuring physical prowess did not have the time remaining to take such history lessons so far back. For when Selene referred to the 'first war' he thought he likely she was talking of the battles that had been between their kingdoms just over ten years ago. Yet, that was far from the first conflict with Egypt. And he was open to saying so without it seeming like a critique upon her knowledge.
"The war with Egypt a decade ago was only the first conflict of our lifetimes." He told her, selecting a few more grapes and popping them into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed and then continued as his fingertips selected a piece of break and broke off a hunk of cheese that would fit upon its surface. He was careful to ensure that the morsels he selected were held carefully between his fingers so that they would not crumble or drip upon the materials still laid out in every direction. "Egypt and one of the Greek kingdoms have been at odds for generations. Greece used to lay claim to part of the African continent. Taengea ruled it specifically. The first wars between the nations were over land as Egypt unified and looked to their borders for expansion."
Vangelis spoke with a calm that laid blame nowhere for such wars. It was as if he saw battle and conflict as a necessary and unfortunate reality of the world; that it didn't matter who was right and who was wrong or who started what. It wasn't that he was complacent over the idea of violence. But more a case of him knowing through experience that anger and resentment at the enemy never served you well on the battlefield. It only clouded judgement with emotion and efficiency with rage.
"Since then our nations have found issue upon just about everything: trade, negotiations, land, resources... Gods and the faiths we each hold. To the point where we've sided with others against one another." The reference was to the fact that the Greek nations had turned to Judea's aid in their last conflict with Egypt twenty years ago.
"It's a common anger that I suspect now has more to do with the new Pharaoh than anything else." With new rulers came new agendas. Sometimes that was an agenda of greed and expansion, at other times the security and protection of one's people. Vangelis held no inclination to tell Egypt how to run their kingdom or choose their kings. He could only defend his own nation and allies when such choices threatened them.
This last was in reference to Selene's next question as she mentioned the General who had been in attendance at the court session in Taengea. At the mention of Osorsen, Vangelis turned back to his food, a disquiet in his gut reminding him of his dislike for the only General who had ever seemed to have the chance of beating him in open combat.
"And indication that Taengea was weak... such as missing a king... would have seemed like an open invitation to invasion." He told her, again without blame but only objectivity. His jaw tightened as his voice deepened with a rougher tone of dislike. "And Osorsen has never been a man set on battle." His gaze flickered her way. "His nature turns more to a desire for conquest, I think."
Selene was not a student of policies and politics, so there was no shame in her lack of knowledge on her end. And having been shielded from so much of the history of it, she instead listened intently to what Vangelis has to say about it. For while it did not seem like many others had happened, it was the first war she had any memory of, and the only one that felt like it mattered, at least in this instance. After all, it appeared as if all the players from the previous war were still heavily involved in this one, even if it was just at a different capacity.
She decided that there was no reason for her to continue to be in the dark. If her future husband and kingdom was going to be in the middle of this all, she wanted to know everything he would tell her. Selene did not want to pretend that ignorance was an excuse this time around. There may have been aspects of it she wouldn’t understand, but she at least wanted to know. And then, perhaps, the understanding would come later.
There was an intense focus on her face as she wiped her fingertips on her dress, then traced the most likely path between the two. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to be in his position, to know what was about to happen and approach it with such a calm and steadiness. No wonder they called him the Stone General. But in her mind, it may not have been a bad thing. He kept his emotions firmly in check, but having something so firm and true to hold onto? She could see why men rallied around him, and could see that little rattled him. And for her, all she wanted was a safe harbor to remain in. She had needed safety and stability-- no, a man of stone was not a bad thing in her mind.
Not when he smirked sweetly at her own joy. Not when he looked at her with a warmth in his eyes.
She blinked at the news that Osorsen had learned about the coupe of Stephanos. Her lips tucked back into her teeth, replaying the conversation back in her mind. Had she said something that might have given an indication that things were less than stable? As she thought back on the conversation, she was certain that she had made no signs of a true unrest. ”I hope nothing I said gave any indication. I was cautious in our talk.” Her cheeks flushed, eyes meeting his in a pointed look. ”What?” She said innocently, the corner of her mouth turning upwards. ”I have picked my General, Vangelis.” Her voice lifted in teasing, ”And I have the utmost faith in him.”
Her cheeks flushed about, enjoying her own boldness in her statement. Let anyone doubt her feelings. As long as he knew how she felt, what did the opinions of others matter?
”So,” She said quietly, her hand moving from the map back to her lap, ”What of me, then?” His fate was decided, at least in that he would be off to war. And while hers seemed to finally be on the path to marriage, there was still the uncertainty of what all of this meant for her, now that they were to wed. ”Do I stay here? Return home to await word of your return? What is it you wish of me?” She asked, partially because she needed to know his expectations so she could meet them.
The other-- she wasn’t quite ready to come to terms with yet.
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Selene was not a student of policies and politics, so there was no shame in her lack of knowledge on her end. And having been shielded from so much of the history of it, she instead listened intently to what Vangelis has to say about it. For while it did not seem like many others had happened, it was the first war she had any memory of, and the only one that felt like it mattered, at least in this instance. After all, it appeared as if all the players from the previous war were still heavily involved in this one, even if it was just at a different capacity.
She decided that there was no reason for her to continue to be in the dark. If her future husband and kingdom was going to be in the middle of this all, she wanted to know everything he would tell her. Selene did not want to pretend that ignorance was an excuse this time around. There may have been aspects of it she wouldn’t understand, but she at least wanted to know. And then, perhaps, the understanding would come later.
There was an intense focus on her face as she wiped her fingertips on her dress, then traced the most likely path between the two. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to be in his position, to know what was about to happen and approach it with such a calm and steadiness. No wonder they called him the Stone General. But in her mind, it may not have been a bad thing. He kept his emotions firmly in check, but having something so firm and true to hold onto? She could see why men rallied around him, and could see that little rattled him. And for her, all she wanted was a safe harbor to remain in. She had needed safety and stability-- no, a man of stone was not a bad thing in her mind.
Not when he smirked sweetly at her own joy. Not when he looked at her with a warmth in his eyes.
She blinked at the news that Osorsen had learned about the coupe of Stephanos. Her lips tucked back into her teeth, replaying the conversation back in her mind. Had she said something that might have given an indication that things were less than stable? As she thought back on the conversation, she was certain that she had made no signs of a true unrest. ”I hope nothing I said gave any indication. I was cautious in our talk.” Her cheeks flushed, eyes meeting his in a pointed look. ”What?” She said innocently, the corner of her mouth turning upwards. ”I have picked my General, Vangelis.” Her voice lifted in teasing, ”And I have the utmost faith in him.”
Her cheeks flushed about, enjoying her own boldness in her statement. Let anyone doubt her feelings. As long as he knew how she felt, what did the opinions of others matter?
”So,” She said quietly, her hand moving from the map back to her lap, ”What of me, then?” His fate was decided, at least in that he would be off to war. And while hers seemed to finally be on the path to marriage, there was still the uncertainty of what all of this meant for her, now that they were to wed. ”Do I stay here? Return home to await word of your return? What is it you wish of me?” She asked, partially because she needed to know his expectations so she could meet them.
The other-- she wasn’t quite ready to come to terms with yet.
Selene was not a student of policies and politics, so there was no shame in her lack of knowledge on her end. And having been shielded from so much of the history of it, she instead listened intently to what Vangelis has to say about it. For while it did not seem like many others had happened, it was the first war she had any memory of, and the only one that felt like it mattered, at least in this instance. After all, it appeared as if all the players from the previous war were still heavily involved in this one, even if it was just at a different capacity.
She decided that there was no reason for her to continue to be in the dark. If her future husband and kingdom was going to be in the middle of this all, she wanted to know everything he would tell her. Selene did not want to pretend that ignorance was an excuse this time around. There may have been aspects of it she wouldn’t understand, but she at least wanted to know. And then, perhaps, the understanding would come later.
There was an intense focus on her face as she wiped her fingertips on her dress, then traced the most likely path between the two. She tried to imagine what it would feel like to be in his position, to know what was about to happen and approach it with such a calm and steadiness. No wonder they called him the Stone General. But in her mind, it may not have been a bad thing. He kept his emotions firmly in check, but having something so firm and true to hold onto? She could see why men rallied around him, and could see that little rattled him. And for her, all she wanted was a safe harbor to remain in. She had needed safety and stability-- no, a man of stone was not a bad thing in her mind.
Not when he smirked sweetly at her own joy. Not when he looked at her with a warmth in his eyes.
She blinked at the news that Osorsen had learned about the coupe of Stephanos. Her lips tucked back into her teeth, replaying the conversation back in her mind. Had she said something that might have given an indication that things were less than stable? As she thought back on the conversation, she was certain that she had made no signs of a true unrest. ”I hope nothing I said gave any indication. I was cautious in our talk.” Her cheeks flushed, eyes meeting his in a pointed look. ”What?” She said innocently, the corner of her mouth turning upwards. ”I have picked my General, Vangelis.” Her voice lifted in teasing, ”And I have the utmost faith in him.”
Her cheeks flushed about, enjoying her own boldness in her statement. Let anyone doubt her feelings. As long as he knew how she felt, what did the opinions of others matter?
”So,” She said quietly, her hand moving from the map back to her lap, ”What of me, then?” His fate was decided, at least in that he would be off to war. And while hers seemed to finally be on the path to marriage, there was still the uncertainty of what all of this meant for her, now that they were to wed. ”Do I stay here? Return home to await word of your return? What is it you wish of me?” She asked, partially because she needed to know his expectations so she could meet them.
The other-- she wasn’t quite ready to come to terms with yet.
"I do not believe so." Vangelis stated with finality when Selene commented in fear over her being responsible for the upcoming war over something she may or may not have mentioned to the General Osorsen. Whilst Vangelis had no idea what the two of them may have discussed as and when he hadn't been present, Vangelis already knew that it was Lady Imeeya's glib tongue that had let slip the crucial information that had seen to the Egyptian diplomat recognising the potential for war. Yet, he wasn't about to spread that information. There was no sense in damaging Imeeya's reputation for the sake of zero gain. Instead, he simply allowed Selene to move the conversation on, her comments regarding choice and faith leaving him with a momentary glance her way and the smallest of turns to the side of his mouth.
"You have never seen me truly fight." He commented to her, for she had been whisked to safety before any severe conflict had happened in the circus when they first met, and the battle with the Creed had happened away from the capitol. "And yet you have such faith?" The question was more curiosity and confusion over the strength in such a decision more than a fish for compliments. Vangelis was not the sort to be vain but he was, apparently, progressively curious as to what it was that Selene saw in him beyond his crown - a factor that he knew not to significant to her, even if it was so to her family.
When the conversation moved forwards and Vangelis was asked as to his plans for Selene, he looked her way for a moment in surprise at the question. His face remained stoic and calm but his eyes were a little narrowed in concentration upon the topic. When she clarified her query, he looked away. His eyes closed, then squeezed shut and his hand came up to pinch at the inner corners of his eyes, either side of the bridge of his nose. He took in a slow inhale.
"Would it have you changing you mind over your faith in me for me to admit that I hadn't given it a thought?" Vangelis asked, before looking back at her with a wincing look of apology.
Some husband he was going to turn out to be. War was coming. His nation was readying for battle on two fronts - as allies to Taengea and against their continuous enemy to the north. He had attempts of regicide being investigated, matters of province, military and state to attend to and a father to reconnect with after the belief of his death. All in all, he had entirely forgotten to make plans for whether Selene was to stay here with his family or to return home. He had put her last upon his list of responsibilities, unused to putting anything before such duty. His only hope was to start as he meant to go on with their union and be bluntly honest - as was his policy in all things. He had not given it a thought.
"You would be welcomed here." He told her with assurance. "If you decided to remain here with my family you would be treated as one of our own. Yet, if you wish to return to Taengea I would see it done. Or provide you with a seal of transport so that you could journey between the two as often as you wished." Perhaps it was the fact that he had just assumed that she would stay in Colchis now that she had agreed to marry him that had led to his lack of consideration on the topic. Perhaps it was his trust in her that she could make her own decisions and he would support her in whichever option she chose. Perhaps he was just simply useless at being accountable to and for another human being...
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"I do not believe so." Vangelis stated with finality when Selene commented in fear over her being responsible for the upcoming war over something she may or may not have mentioned to the General Osorsen. Whilst Vangelis had no idea what the two of them may have discussed as and when he hadn't been present, Vangelis already knew that it was Lady Imeeya's glib tongue that had let slip the crucial information that had seen to the Egyptian diplomat recognising the potential for war. Yet, he wasn't about to spread that information. There was no sense in damaging Imeeya's reputation for the sake of zero gain. Instead, he simply allowed Selene to move the conversation on, her comments regarding choice and faith leaving him with a momentary glance her way and the smallest of turns to the side of his mouth.
"You have never seen me truly fight." He commented to her, for she had been whisked to safety before any severe conflict had happened in the circus when they first met, and the battle with the Creed had happened away from the capitol. "And yet you have such faith?" The question was more curiosity and confusion over the strength in such a decision more than a fish for compliments. Vangelis was not the sort to be vain but he was, apparently, progressively curious as to what it was that Selene saw in him beyond his crown - a factor that he knew not to significant to her, even if it was so to her family.
When the conversation moved forwards and Vangelis was asked as to his plans for Selene, he looked her way for a moment in surprise at the question. His face remained stoic and calm but his eyes were a little narrowed in concentration upon the topic. When she clarified her query, he looked away. His eyes closed, then squeezed shut and his hand came up to pinch at the inner corners of his eyes, either side of the bridge of his nose. He took in a slow inhale.
"Would it have you changing you mind over your faith in me for me to admit that I hadn't given it a thought?" Vangelis asked, before looking back at her with a wincing look of apology.
Some husband he was going to turn out to be. War was coming. His nation was readying for battle on two fronts - as allies to Taengea and against their continuous enemy to the north. He had attempts of regicide being investigated, matters of province, military and state to attend to and a father to reconnect with after the belief of his death. All in all, he had entirely forgotten to make plans for whether Selene was to stay here with his family or to return home. He had put her last upon his list of responsibilities, unused to putting anything before such duty. His only hope was to start as he meant to go on with their union and be bluntly honest - as was his policy in all things. He had not given it a thought.
"You would be welcomed here." He told her with assurance. "If you decided to remain here with my family you would be treated as one of our own. Yet, if you wish to return to Taengea I would see it done. Or provide you with a seal of transport so that you could journey between the two as often as you wished." Perhaps it was the fact that he had just assumed that she would stay in Colchis now that she had agreed to marry him that had led to his lack of consideration on the topic. Perhaps it was his trust in her that she could make her own decisions and he would support her in whichever option she chose. Perhaps he was just simply useless at being accountable to and for another human being...
"I do not believe so." Vangelis stated with finality when Selene commented in fear over her being responsible for the upcoming war over something she may or may not have mentioned to the General Osorsen. Whilst Vangelis had no idea what the two of them may have discussed as and when he hadn't been present, Vangelis already knew that it was Lady Imeeya's glib tongue that had let slip the crucial information that had seen to the Egyptian diplomat recognising the potential for war. Yet, he wasn't about to spread that information. There was no sense in damaging Imeeya's reputation for the sake of zero gain. Instead, he simply allowed Selene to move the conversation on, her comments regarding choice and faith leaving him with a momentary glance her way and the smallest of turns to the side of his mouth.
"You have never seen me truly fight." He commented to her, for she had been whisked to safety before any severe conflict had happened in the circus when they first met, and the battle with the Creed had happened away from the capitol. "And yet you have such faith?" The question was more curiosity and confusion over the strength in such a decision more than a fish for compliments. Vangelis was not the sort to be vain but he was, apparently, progressively curious as to what it was that Selene saw in him beyond his crown - a factor that he knew not to significant to her, even if it was so to her family.
When the conversation moved forwards and Vangelis was asked as to his plans for Selene, he looked her way for a moment in surprise at the question. His face remained stoic and calm but his eyes were a little narrowed in concentration upon the topic. When she clarified her query, he looked away. His eyes closed, then squeezed shut and his hand came up to pinch at the inner corners of his eyes, either side of the bridge of his nose. He took in a slow inhale.
"Would it have you changing you mind over your faith in me for me to admit that I hadn't given it a thought?" Vangelis asked, before looking back at her with a wincing look of apology.
Some husband he was going to turn out to be. War was coming. His nation was readying for battle on two fronts - as allies to Taengea and against their continuous enemy to the north. He had attempts of regicide being investigated, matters of province, military and state to attend to and a father to reconnect with after the belief of his death. All in all, he had entirely forgotten to make plans for whether Selene was to stay here with his family or to return home. He had put her last upon his list of responsibilities, unused to putting anything before such duty. His only hope was to start as he meant to go on with their union and be bluntly honest - as was his policy in all things. He had not given it a thought.
"You would be welcomed here." He told her with assurance. "If you decided to remain here with my family you would be treated as one of our own. Yet, if you wish to return to Taengea I would see it done. Or provide you with a seal of transport so that you could journey between the two as often as you wished." Perhaps it was the fact that he had just assumed that she would stay in Colchis now that she had agreed to marry him that had led to his lack of consideration on the topic. Perhaps it was his trust in her that she could make her own decisions and he would support her in whichever option she chose. Perhaps he was just simply useless at being accountable to and for another human being...
She let the topic of Osorsen drop, knowing that even if she had been the reason he had felt he could attack now, there was little she could do about it after the fact. Instead, she focused on Vangelis, on his curiosity as to why she had so much faith in his ability without having seen it first hand. She only hesitated a moment, her hand starting to move before she questioned her actions. But, before she could overthink it, she shifted her hips so that she was closer to him. Then, her hands carefully took one of his in her own.
Palm up, held between her two smaller hands, she let her thumbs trace small circles around the flesh. There were calluses on her own hands, thick from years of playing the harp. Silently, her hand traced the ones on his hands-- ones he was probably oblivious to. The motion was small, but soft and gentle as she first looked at his hand, then up at him with a smile. ”I do not need to see you in battle to know what kind of man you are.” She told him, allowing herself a moment to allow her feelings for him to show a bit more than she normally would have. ”I have spent enough time with you to know that you are a natural leader of men, one who does not command from the rear but from the front, alongside your men. The fact that you were so gravely injured in that mining incident shows me that you are not above doing what you ask others to do.” Her hands flipped his over, so they were palm to palm, her thumb still tracing the dark skin.
”I see the man you are with your family, that you do not just live the Kotas motto but you breathe it. You say what you mean, and act as you think it right without a care to what others think. You are dedicated to your people, to your training and to your family. That is all I need to know to have faith in you, Vangelis.” She let go of his hand, watching as she realized that he hadn’t given her much thought when it came to their immediate future. It took much restraint not to show any signs that she was disappointed but that notion. He had so much on his plate that it was not that surprising that he hadn’t been able to think that far ahead. A war, in his mind, was more important than a wedding.
The ache in her chest grew as he spoke, realizing that he did not plan on marrying her before he left. It shouldn’t have been such a blow, simply because there was so little time for it to happen. But she wanted nothing more than to be a Kotas, to feel like she belonged among his family because she was family. Instead, he had planned on continuing her status as guest, which meant that she could do as she wished without having to answer to anyone, save her father and uncle who would still be her keepers.
She didn’t like that notion much at all.
The idea that her future was set vanished quickly under her feet as she was unsure how to proceed. So instead of holding her tongue, knowing he was burdened with so much more than she was, Selene spoke truthfully to him. Hadn’t his mother told her to fight for what she wanted? ”I want to be treated as a Kotas because I am one. Stuck in limbo, unsure of where to go or what to do-- that certainly does not seem like a fair option. But I am to be yours, Vangelis. I want to know where you want me to be. Would you be able to focus if you knew I was traveling back and forth in potential times of war? I certainly would rather not.” Her hand took his again, any signs of hurt replaced by determination. ”I am to be your wife. And while I can see that you are set on waiting until you return home to do so, I need you to tell me where I belong in the meantime. I know where that is.” She told him, her eyebrow raised, ”And I know what I want. But I am at your command-- shall I be waiting at the docks here for your return? Or shall you have to fetch me from my father’s house one last time?”
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She let the topic of Osorsen drop, knowing that even if she had been the reason he had felt he could attack now, there was little she could do about it after the fact. Instead, she focused on Vangelis, on his curiosity as to why she had so much faith in his ability without having seen it first hand. She only hesitated a moment, her hand starting to move before she questioned her actions. But, before she could overthink it, she shifted her hips so that she was closer to him. Then, her hands carefully took one of his in her own.
Palm up, held between her two smaller hands, she let her thumbs trace small circles around the flesh. There were calluses on her own hands, thick from years of playing the harp. Silently, her hand traced the ones on his hands-- ones he was probably oblivious to. The motion was small, but soft and gentle as she first looked at his hand, then up at him with a smile. ”I do not need to see you in battle to know what kind of man you are.” She told him, allowing herself a moment to allow her feelings for him to show a bit more than she normally would have. ”I have spent enough time with you to know that you are a natural leader of men, one who does not command from the rear but from the front, alongside your men. The fact that you were so gravely injured in that mining incident shows me that you are not above doing what you ask others to do.” Her hands flipped his over, so they were palm to palm, her thumb still tracing the dark skin.
”I see the man you are with your family, that you do not just live the Kotas motto but you breathe it. You say what you mean, and act as you think it right without a care to what others think. You are dedicated to your people, to your training and to your family. That is all I need to know to have faith in you, Vangelis.” She let go of his hand, watching as she realized that he hadn’t given her much thought when it came to their immediate future. It took much restraint not to show any signs that she was disappointed but that notion. He had so much on his plate that it was not that surprising that he hadn’t been able to think that far ahead. A war, in his mind, was more important than a wedding.
The ache in her chest grew as he spoke, realizing that he did not plan on marrying her before he left. It shouldn’t have been such a blow, simply because there was so little time for it to happen. But she wanted nothing more than to be a Kotas, to feel like she belonged among his family because she was family. Instead, he had planned on continuing her status as guest, which meant that she could do as she wished without having to answer to anyone, save her father and uncle who would still be her keepers.
She didn’t like that notion much at all.
The idea that her future was set vanished quickly under her feet as she was unsure how to proceed. So instead of holding her tongue, knowing he was burdened with so much more than she was, Selene spoke truthfully to him. Hadn’t his mother told her to fight for what she wanted? ”I want to be treated as a Kotas because I am one. Stuck in limbo, unsure of where to go or what to do-- that certainly does not seem like a fair option. But I am to be yours, Vangelis. I want to know where you want me to be. Would you be able to focus if you knew I was traveling back and forth in potential times of war? I certainly would rather not.” Her hand took his again, any signs of hurt replaced by determination. ”I am to be your wife. And while I can see that you are set on waiting until you return home to do so, I need you to tell me where I belong in the meantime. I know where that is.” She told him, her eyebrow raised, ”And I know what I want. But I am at your command-- shall I be waiting at the docks here for your return? Or shall you have to fetch me from my father’s house one last time?”
She let the topic of Osorsen drop, knowing that even if she had been the reason he had felt he could attack now, there was little she could do about it after the fact. Instead, she focused on Vangelis, on his curiosity as to why she had so much faith in his ability without having seen it first hand. She only hesitated a moment, her hand starting to move before she questioned her actions. But, before she could overthink it, she shifted her hips so that she was closer to him. Then, her hands carefully took one of his in her own.
Palm up, held between her two smaller hands, she let her thumbs trace small circles around the flesh. There were calluses on her own hands, thick from years of playing the harp. Silently, her hand traced the ones on his hands-- ones he was probably oblivious to. The motion was small, but soft and gentle as she first looked at his hand, then up at him with a smile. ”I do not need to see you in battle to know what kind of man you are.” She told him, allowing herself a moment to allow her feelings for him to show a bit more than she normally would have. ”I have spent enough time with you to know that you are a natural leader of men, one who does not command from the rear but from the front, alongside your men. The fact that you were so gravely injured in that mining incident shows me that you are not above doing what you ask others to do.” Her hands flipped his over, so they were palm to palm, her thumb still tracing the dark skin.
”I see the man you are with your family, that you do not just live the Kotas motto but you breathe it. You say what you mean, and act as you think it right without a care to what others think. You are dedicated to your people, to your training and to your family. That is all I need to know to have faith in you, Vangelis.” She let go of his hand, watching as she realized that he hadn’t given her much thought when it came to their immediate future. It took much restraint not to show any signs that she was disappointed but that notion. He had so much on his plate that it was not that surprising that he hadn’t been able to think that far ahead. A war, in his mind, was more important than a wedding.
The ache in her chest grew as he spoke, realizing that he did not plan on marrying her before he left. It shouldn’t have been such a blow, simply because there was so little time for it to happen. But she wanted nothing more than to be a Kotas, to feel like she belonged among his family because she was family. Instead, he had planned on continuing her status as guest, which meant that she could do as she wished without having to answer to anyone, save her father and uncle who would still be her keepers.
She didn’t like that notion much at all.
The idea that her future was set vanished quickly under her feet as she was unsure how to proceed. So instead of holding her tongue, knowing he was burdened with so much more than she was, Selene spoke truthfully to him. Hadn’t his mother told her to fight for what she wanted? ”I want to be treated as a Kotas because I am one. Stuck in limbo, unsure of where to go or what to do-- that certainly does not seem like a fair option. But I am to be yours, Vangelis. I want to know where you want me to be. Would you be able to focus if you knew I was traveling back and forth in potential times of war? I certainly would rather not.” Her hand took his again, any signs of hurt replaced by determination. ”I am to be your wife. And while I can see that you are set on waiting until you return home to do so, I need you to tell me where I belong in the meantime. I know where that is.” She told him, her eyebrow raised, ”And I know what I want. But I am at your command-- shall I be waiting at the docks here for your return? Or shall you have to fetch me from my father’s house one last time?”
Vangelis felt a familiar sense of discomfort when Selene spoke of his character, his integrity. A Colchian down to his blood, honour was a heralding call for his soul and the framework by which he lived his life. And while it was easy to insult a Colchian; to rouse them to fury or disregard, it was near impossible to compliment one. They did not take flattery well and saw to prove themselves by actions over words. The lowest section of his chest felt tight and his shoulders grew tight with each compliment that fell from Selene's lips, harder to hear because of the faith and belief with which she said them. To his horror, he felt the curling of heat along his cheekbones. But luckily the room was likely too dark and his skin too tan to see such a heat in his face.
The awkwardness of her flattery was made all the worse by the way she took his hand. As she held it, palm up and soft fingers cradling the wide expanse of his grip, he felt the pads of her thumbs pass over specific callouses he'd built over years of discipline. Her touch was soft, reverent and an intimate connection of physicality that was still new to the both of them. In the darkened corridor of books, their visages lit only by candlelight and the space between bookcases warm with their breath. As a man, Vangelis was helpless not to react to the way in which she played with his hand, stroking over his skin, saying all that she did of being a Kotas, of belonging to him. There was nothing he could do the slow the speeding of his pulse, nor the way in which his breathing turned heavy.
His lips parting, his eyes heavy-lidded, Vangelis curled his fingers inwards towards his palm, their tips brushing along the lengths of hers before becoming a fist of control, nestled between her hands. He watched their hold upon him as he spoke, his voice deeper than when he'd last spoken in the dim light.
"I would wish..." Vangelis paused in a moment of quiet, his mind drawing on what he hoped would somehow mould into the right words. He tried starting again. "If I am to return from Egypt, I would consider my fate to be a good one, regardless of where I must collect my future wife from." He looked up to meet her gaze in a moment of lightness, before he turned more severe. "...but should I not. I would wish that you were in a position of comfort and security, should you still be left unmarried... The best of which may be with your father..." This last he spoke quietly, turning it into speculation over definiteness.
As she continued to trace her fingertips over his hand, drawing lines over the bones and veins and the rise and fall of the muscle between his joints, Vangelis closed his eyes and exhaled long and slow, his mind telling him that this was not the time nor place to become distracted...
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Vangelis felt a familiar sense of discomfort when Selene spoke of his character, his integrity. A Colchian down to his blood, honour was a heralding call for his soul and the framework by which he lived his life. And while it was easy to insult a Colchian; to rouse them to fury or disregard, it was near impossible to compliment one. They did not take flattery well and saw to prove themselves by actions over words. The lowest section of his chest felt tight and his shoulders grew tight with each compliment that fell from Selene's lips, harder to hear because of the faith and belief with which she said them. To his horror, he felt the curling of heat along his cheekbones. But luckily the room was likely too dark and his skin too tan to see such a heat in his face.
The awkwardness of her flattery was made all the worse by the way she took his hand. As she held it, palm up and soft fingers cradling the wide expanse of his grip, he felt the pads of her thumbs pass over specific callouses he'd built over years of discipline. Her touch was soft, reverent and an intimate connection of physicality that was still new to the both of them. In the darkened corridor of books, their visages lit only by candlelight and the space between bookcases warm with their breath. As a man, Vangelis was helpless not to react to the way in which she played with his hand, stroking over his skin, saying all that she did of being a Kotas, of belonging to him. There was nothing he could do the slow the speeding of his pulse, nor the way in which his breathing turned heavy.
His lips parting, his eyes heavy-lidded, Vangelis curled his fingers inwards towards his palm, their tips brushing along the lengths of hers before becoming a fist of control, nestled between her hands. He watched their hold upon him as he spoke, his voice deeper than when he'd last spoken in the dim light.
"I would wish..." Vangelis paused in a moment of quiet, his mind drawing on what he hoped would somehow mould into the right words. He tried starting again. "If I am to return from Egypt, I would consider my fate to be a good one, regardless of where I must collect my future wife from." He looked up to meet her gaze in a moment of lightness, before he turned more severe. "...but should I not. I would wish that you were in a position of comfort and security, should you still be left unmarried... The best of which may be with your father..." This last he spoke quietly, turning it into speculation over definiteness.
As she continued to trace her fingertips over his hand, drawing lines over the bones and veins and the rise and fall of the muscle between his joints, Vangelis closed his eyes and exhaled long and slow, his mind telling him that this was not the time nor place to become distracted...
Vangelis felt a familiar sense of discomfort when Selene spoke of his character, his integrity. A Colchian down to his blood, honour was a heralding call for his soul and the framework by which he lived his life. And while it was easy to insult a Colchian; to rouse them to fury or disregard, it was near impossible to compliment one. They did not take flattery well and saw to prove themselves by actions over words. The lowest section of his chest felt tight and his shoulders grew tight with each compliment that fell from Selene's lips, harder to hear because of the faith and belief with which she said them. To his horror, he felt the curling of heat along his cheekbones. But luckily the room was likely too dark and his skin too tan to see such a heat in his face.
The awkwardness of her flattery was made all the worse by the way she took his hand. As she held it, palm up and soft fingers cradling the wide expanse of his grip, he felt the pads of her thumbs pass over specific callouses he'd built over years of discipline. Her touch was soft, reverent and an intimate connection of physicality that was still new to the both of them. In the darkened corridor of books, their visages lit only by candlelight and the space between bookcases warm with their breath. As a man, Vangelis was helpless not to react to the way in which she played with his hand, stroking over his skin, saying all that she did of being a Kotas, of belonging to him. There was nothing he could do the slow the speeding of his pulse, nor the way in which his breathing turned heavy.
His lips parting, his eyes heavy-lidded, Vangelis curled his fingers inwards towards his palm, their tips brushing along the lengths of hers before becoming a fist of control, nestled between her hands. He watched their hold upon him as he spoke, his voice deeper than when he'd last spoken in the dim light.
"I would wish..." Vangelis paused in a moment of quiet, his mind drawing on what he hoped would somehow mould into the right words. He tried starting again. "If I am to return from Egypt, I would consider my fate to be a good one, regardless of where I must collect my future wife from." He looked up to meet her gaze in a moment of lightness, before he turned more severe. "...but should I not. I would wish that you were in a position of comfort and security, should you still be left unmarried... The best of which may be with your father..." This last he spoke quietly, turning it into speculation over definiteness.
As she continued to trace her fingertips over his hand, drawing lines over the bones and veins and the rise and fall of the muscle between his joints, Vangelis closed his eyes and exhaled long and slow, his mind telling him that this was not the time nor place to become distracted...
She watched the play of emotions across his face, wondering just what he was thinking about. For her, it seemed simple. If they married now, she would be a Kotas and would have all the protection that it provided. They would have a chance to produce an her, one that could sit on the throne when the Gods deemed him ready. Even if Vangelis died, his legacy would live on in his child. It would obviously have been a quick wedding, but the size of the affair didn’t matter.
No, she just wanted to be his. Even if it was only for a short moment in time.
But he was not a man who dealt with silly notions like that. For him, it made far more sense that she still be able to wed, should something happen to him. And while the agreement of marriage would still be there, he preferred the idea of her being back home.
Waiting.
”No.” She said firmly, not accepting that as the only option. ”No, I refuse to accept that the best place for me, should something happen to you, is under my father’s roof.” She moved her hand to his wrist, where the skin was softer. ”If you are to die in Egypt, I would rather mourn with those who have cared for you just as much as I have. Who will share in my grief in a personal way. I will not go home, where I shall have to mourn alone. They may sympathize with something like that, but they won’t understand.” She reasoned, knowing that even if the people of Kotas did not mourn like she would (the death of the King had proven that), they would at least fell the fire she did.
She could heal with them.
”I will want the comfort of your family.” She said, her hand reaching out to his cheek, settling against the rough skin, ”I will stay here, Vangelis, for while your wish may be well-meant, it does not deal with the short term aspect of what your death will mean to me.” She could have poured her heart out, confessing her feelings. Instead, she let the weight of her words be enough. ”I would eventually return to my father’s house. But, for as long as I need, I will want your family. I will want to mourn that loss, too.”
Did he not realize just how she looked at their marriage? She was marrying him, yes, but she was also marrying into his family. The loss of them would be just as hard.
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She watched the play of emotions across his face, wondering just what he was thinking about. For her, it seemed simple. If they married now, she would be a Kotas and would have all the protection that it provided. They would have a chance to produce an her, one that could sit on the throne when the Gods deemed him ready. Even if Vangelis died, his legacy would live on in his child. It would obviously have been a quick wedding, but the size of the affair didn’t matter.
No, she just wanted to be his. Even if it was only for a short moment in time.
But he was not a man who dealt with silly notions like that. For him, it made far more sense that she still be able to wed, should something happen to him. And while the agreement of marriage would still be there, he preferred the idea of her being back home.
Waiting.
”No.” She said firmly, not accepting that as the only option. ”No, I refuse to accept that the best place for me, should something happen to you, is under my father’s roof.” She moved her hand to his wrist, where the skin was softer. ”If you are to die in Egypt, I would rather mourn with those who have cared for you just as much as I have. Who will share in my grief in a personal way. I will not go home, where I shall have to mourn alone. They may sympathize with something like that, but they won’t understand.” She reasoned, knowing that even if the people of Kotas did not mourn like she would (the death of the King had proven that), they would at least fell the fire she did.
She could heal with them.
”I will want the comfort of your family.” She said, her hand reaching out to his cheek, settling against the rough skin, ”I will stay here, Vangelis, for while your wish may be well-meant, it does not deal with the short term aspect of what your death will mean to me.” She could have poured her heart out, confessing her feelings. Instead, she let the weight of her words be enough. ”I would eventually return to my father’s house. But, for as long as I need, I will want your family. I will want to mourn that loss, too.”
Did he not realize just how she looked at their marriage? She was marrying him, yes, but she was also marrying into his family. The loss of them would be just as hard.
She watched the play of emotions across his face, wondering just what he was thinking about. For her, it seemed simple. If they married now, she would be a Kotas and would have all the protection that it provided. They would have a chance to produce an her, one that could sit on the throne when the Gods deemed him ready. Even if Vangelis died, his legacy would live on in his child. It would obviously have been a quick wedding, but the size of the affair didn’t matter.
No, she just wanted to be his. Even if it was only for a short moment in time.
But he was not a man who dealt with silly notions like that. For him, it made far more sense that she still be able to wed, should something happen to him. And while the agreement of marriage would still be there, he preferred the idea of her being back home.
Waiting.
”No.” She said firmly, not accepting that as the only option. ”No, I refuse to accept that the best place for me, should something happen to you, is under my father’s roof.” She moved her hand to his wrist, where the skin was softer. ”If you are to die in Egypt, I would rather mourn with those who have cared for you just as much as I have. Who will share in my grief in a personal way. I will not go home, where I shall have to mourn alone. They may sympathize with something like that, but they won’t understand.” She reasoned, knowing that even if the people of Kotas did not mourn like she would (the death of the King had proven that), they would at least fell the fire she did.
She could heal with them.
”I will want the comfort of your family.” She said, her hand reaching out to his cheek, settling against the rough skin, ”I will stay here, Vangelis, for while your wish may be well-meant, it does not deal with the short term aspect of what your death will mean to me.” She could have poured her heart out, confessing her feelings. Instead, she let the weight of her words be enough. ”I would eventually return to my father’s house. But, for as long as I need, I will want your family. I will want to mourn that loss, too.”
Did he not realize just how she looked at their marriage? She was marrying him, yes, but she was also marrying into his family. The loss of them would be just as hard.
Vangelis wasn't really listening to Selene's words anymore. He heard them, he understood their meaning. He knew what she was saying. But he wasn't truly listening to the individual syllables that passed her lips, nor the deeper feelings for him that she was indicating with her words. The touch of her fingertips, the way she had leant in closer and caused the ends of her hair to brush across his forearm like strands of silk... The warmth and privacy of there surroundings...
Vangelis was tired, his mind wished to switch off and he had just noticed how the chiffon of her gown had sunk to mould into the shape of Selene's thighs.
Taking a controlled breath in and then turning it into a slow and calming exhale, Vangelis reopened his hand, unfurled his fingers and brought the other around to reverse their hold, one of her hands within his now. Feeling the shape of her touch and the tapered lengths of each finger, Vangelis' gaze was almost slumberous as he responded to Selene's determination with actions over words.
Bending his head, Vangelis drew Selene's hand upwards and placed a kiss to the base of her thumb. The pad of his own thumb ran across the back of her knuckles as he placed a second to the palm of her hand before forcing her fingers to curl in, holding the remains of his chaste kisses secret.
"Then you shall remain here." He told her without qualm, as he held her hand, curled into a protective fist between his own.
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.
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Vangelis wasn't really listening to Selene's words anymore. He heard them, he understood their meaning. He knew what she was saying. But he wasn't truly listening to the individual syllables that passed her lips, nor the deeper feelings for him that she was indicating with her words. The touch of her fingertips, the way she had leant in closer and caused the ends of her hair to brush across his forearm like strands of silk... The warmth and privacy of there surroundings...
Vangelis was tired, his mind wished to switch off and he had just noticed how the chiffon of her gown had sunk to mould into the shape of Selene's thighs.
Taking a controlled breath in and then turning it into a slow and calming exhale, Vangelis reopened his hand, unfurled his fingers and brought the other around to reverse their hold, one of her hands within his now. Feeling the shape of her touch and the tapered lengths of each finger, Vangelis' gaze was almost slumberous as he responded to Selene's determination with actions over words.
Bending his head, Vangelis drew Selene's hand upwards and placed a kiss to the base of her thumb. The pad of his own thumb ran across the back of her knuckles as he placed a second to the palm of her hand before forcing her fingers to curl in, holding the remains of his chaste kisses secret.
"Then you shall remain here." He told her without qualm, as he held her hand, curled into a protective fist between his own.
Vangelis wasn't really listening to Selene's words anymore. He heard them, he understood their meaning. He knew what she was saying. But he wasn't truly listening to the individual syllables that passed her lips, nor the deeper feelings for him that she was indicating with her words. The touch of her fingertips, the way she had leant in closer and caused the ends of her hair to brush across his forearm like strands of silk... The warmth and privacy of there surroundings...
Vangelis was tired, his mind wished to switch off and he had just noticed how the chiffon of her gown had sunk to mould into the shape of Selene's thighs.
Taking a controlled breath in and then turning it into a slow and calming exhale, Vangelis reopened his hand, unfurled his fingers and brought the other around to reverse their hold, one of her hands within his now. Feeling the shape of her touch and the tapered lengths of each finger, Vangelis' gaze was almost slumberous as he responded to Selene's determination with actions over words.
Bending his head, Vangelis drew Selene's hand upwards and placed a kiss to the base of her thumb. The pad of his own thumb ran across the back of her knuckles as he placed a second to the palm of her hand before forcing her fingers to curl in, holding the remains of his chaste kisses secret.
"Then you shall remain here." He told her without qualm, as he held her hand, curled into a protective fist between his own.