There had been few other things on his mind these last weeks. the absence of his presence from Colchis had very surely shaken his Kingdom to its core. But none was more shaken than his family, most of all his wife. There was a sort of silent pride in seeing how much ease Vangelis had stepped up to his rightful place with. The throne would have remained his if all of Tython's plans had not worked out for the better. The casualties were great, but such had been the price of war. When he had climbed the steps to the dikastirio, he had meant to stun and surprise.

It was not for the fact that he liked to give a show, because that had never been and would never be Tython's aim. His worry had been that whatever had plagued them on the way back from the northern lands had plied Colchis into its grasp. Instead, his breaking down of the doors of the chamber had lead to an entirely different discovery. His family, his nobles, his retinue and their visitors had been feasting, but it was Vangelis who had become a victim. And while his silent rage over Dionysios's attempt on Vangelis' life was entirely overshadowed by the idea that the man was well and truly simply losing his mind. Surely, the danger had not spread this far.

But Tython could not stop looking for enemies just because he felt one moment of comfort. To stop looking behind you meant you would find a knife in your back. Wanting to be prepared for everything at all times was often the most taxing and exhausting part of being King and while his son's poisoning had clouded his mind for but a moment, Vangelis was now fine. The poison hadn't taken the crown prince and with that relief had come the all-consuming want to find his wife's company as he always did when he returned from a campaign.

This campaign, however, held a much more emotional toll. Tython's own family had thought him dead and he was very aware of the shock they likely all felt. His children were likely to find him eventually, but his habits were not to be betrayed now. There was one person that Tython often answered to above anyone else and before anyone else. The one person who deserved more consideration and respect than any other with the Kotas name.

Because Yanni was the true backbone of the Colchian throne. His sons were strong, but Yanni was the strongest of the Kotas family. Everything that had been achieved during the course of the marriage was only possible because Yanni was Tython's constant. The constant presence. The patience. The consideration. The iron will of a woman that he once thought would be nothing more than his wife. Yanni had come into her own as queen and as a mother, and most of all, the partner that Tython had never known he had needed until he'd had her in his arms.

Tython was more than grateful for his wife, and finally stepping into their chambers, Tython hardly got the door closed before he spotted her nearly running toward him out of the corner of his eye. There had always been something about the way she said his title behind closed doors. It only affirmed his affection for her because it stroked an ego he had never really considered as needing anything more than what was expected of her.

Her small height and beautifully lithe frame were not enough to bowl him over, but Tython did brace one foot backward in order to wrap his arms around his wife's waist. Her lips were on his before he could respond, and he was contented with that. Carrying Yanni backward toward the door just a few steps, Tython kicked his foot back against the wood to ensure that he heard the slightly cracked object thunk back into its proper place. Closed and shut off from anyone who wished to interrupt them. They wouldn't be, if only because most of the manor staff knew what to expect if they did.

Then he lazily leaned against the door, which made it infinitely easier to hold onto her. it was only when she broke away and he let her slowly down to her feet that he sighed out sweetly against her mouth, leaving one last, heated kiss against her mouth. Gazing down into her face, Tython once more let his forehead rest against Yanni's in the same way that he had less than an hour before when he had quite literally broken back into their lives. His stormy gaze searched hers and a rare smile settled on his lips, taking on more of a considerate smirk than anything. "Even if I had not come back, I would have found you when you later joined me in the Underworld," Tython murmured, reaching up to brush a stray lock of Yanni's hair from her face. It must have fallen from her braids when the chaos was ensuing.

"I am happy to be home," Tython said quietly then, lifting his head to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. Then he caught a whiff of himself and cleared his throat, "But I pray that my queen can afford me the time for a bath."

There was a deepened sense of relief at being able to look down into the face of his queen. This was a sight that he had never thought he'd get to experience again. The details of his campaign had left him uncertain of what his fate may become. If his plans in the north had not worked out, then he and his men surely would have been dead. That much was such an uncomfortable fact that Tython found it much more comforting to remind himself that he was here with Yanni and not toeing what felt like an impossible line at the time. In the heat of things, there had been such uncertainty that he'd needed to keep his head on straight and his mind on the plans and tasks at hand.

He had thought both much and little of Yanni and his family waiting for him back in Colchis. Once he had been sure that they would think him dead, he had allowed himself a modicum of peace knowing that whether he returned or not did not entirely matter. If he died, they would have already thought him gone. If he hadn't, he would surprise them as he had when he had returned to Colchis to find the nobility in utter chaos.

Leaning a little more into the door so that he could watch her eyes properly, Tython lifted one of his hands to brush her jaw, a smile turning the corners of his lips upward. "I cannot say that I blame you, my queen," he said slowly when she admitted that she would not afford him the luxury of a lone bath. After such a long time without her, taking a bath alone would be much more like torment than anything else. He could not complain about her intention to essentially attach herself to his hip.

Allowing himself to be dragged through their room and to the bath that had already been prepared, by the time the two of them had undressed one another and settled into the water, Tython found his heart rate steadying. He didn't know if he had simply been on high alert for so long or if the sheer sight of her had instilled the increase in heart rate, but he found that he could relax with her in his arms. Winding them slowly around her form, he let his lips brush her temple and then her cheek, his eyes squeezing shut for a long moment.

"I was hoping that you would," he said calmly, "If any of the men had thought to come after us, I hoped you would step in to stop them," Tython then admitted carefully, brushing his fingers back through her chocolate locks. "We were already exhausted. Another fight would have been poor for both sides," there was a slight bit of humor in his voice. "I am tired, Yanni... and these whispers of war that I have heard of in these last few hours are unsettling."

He would not lie to her. War had been nearly his entire life, but he had hoped that this campaign would have been his last. Now, it did not seem as if he would be given that luxury. Settling a little further into the water, Tython found himself rubbing his wives' arms lightly, already lost in thought.

"Tell me about everything that I've missed."

Tython had been contented to settle in and enjoy the bath with his wife. It was something he rarely got to experience, so these days at home would be invaluable. Initially in their marriage, when the two of them had truly started falling for one another, Tython had worried that the distance between them when he went on a campaign would make her hate him. However, each time he returned, he was quite sure that his wife had only fallen deeper in love with him, just as he did her. It was the thought of her and her alone that often made those last few battles on a campaign worth it. She gave him strength just knowing that she was here and she was waiting for him.

His fingers glided against her skin at first, wandering up her arm to her shoulder and then back down. His fingers dipped into the hot water and made their trail down to her waist. Both hands then glided along her front, along her abdomen. This body had bore him five children and he still couldn't seem to have his fill. The king leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss between her neck and shoulder, humming under his breath in quiet joy that he was here. That he had gotten his chance to touch Yanni again after so long away. Knowing that he would have to leave on yet another campaign, this time to the south, made him assert his need to make the most of these moments.

Then she shifted out of his arms and settled on the seat of the bath so that she could continue to help wash him. Here, he decidedly rose to his feet, inching closer so that she would have a better reach. This was something they always did after a campaign. She washed the war off of him. The dirt, the blood, the sweat. It was as if she was washing away the hardships of the last months or years and leaving him the man he had been before he had left in the first place. This was a ritual that he would never give up, as it gave him a private chance to catch up with Yanni without the fear and frustration of being interrupted.

Yanni's assertion that he would be proud of their son made him straighten slightly and his gaze turned fully to her. Lifting a hand, he trailed his fingers under her chin, ensuring that she turned her gaze to his face. "There is no doubt in my mind that Vangelis will make a magnificent king some day. I am simply relieved that he does not yet have to wear the mantle nor the crown," Tython soothed slowly. He trusted Vangelis not to bring Colchis to ruin, but Tython himself was not ready to pass into the underworld. He still had a queen to ravish and children to see married and, hopefully, more grandchildren to greet.

It was her final question that dragged a sigh from his lips. Tython sunk back into the bath, his skin clean of debris and nourished by the bath's soaps and oils. At first, he did not answer, reaching for Yanni so that he could bring her back into his arms. This time, he guided her so that they sat chest to chest with one another, her settled on his lap. The taller man dropped his forehead against her shoulder and breathed out. "The north saw fit to keep me in its grasp longer than I intended," he said slowly at first, "I will tell the entire family, including you, what happened. All at once. And only once. I don't see the need to repeat myself multiple times," he declared quietly, giving a very slight shake of his head. However, it was clear that whatever had kept him to the north truly troubled him.

Trying to shrug off further thought of the northern lands, at least for tonight, Tython then lifted his head and one hand, cupping his wife's cheek. "You promised me that it would just be us and this bath," the king murmured, "Can I not have that?" he pleaded in the way that only he could, his dark gaze softening to something familiar only to his wife. He was imploring her not to push further and to simply settle with him while their paths remained intertwined.

The king wrapped his arms around his wife's slender form.To him, it didn't matter that she was growing older and her beauty was fading. To him, she was just as beautiful as the days that he had first met her and then married her. He had thought her beautiful then, and even in their advanced age, he still thought her beautiful now. Tython had never really expected that a single woman could have taken over his whole world. Not that he had been the type to bounce from woman to woman. He had intended to do right by his queen when they had first been married. He simply would have never dreamed that they would have been such a perfect match for one another.

Yanni nudged his nose with her own and Tython leaned into her, pressing a returning kiss against her lips. He went for another, but as his lips were brushing hers, she spoke again, a small chuckle falling off of his lips as he tucked his head against her shoulder. His large hands spread up and along her bare back, gliding easily because of the water on her skin. His mind was already drifting in another direction, his own body basking in the tender warmth of her skin. Turning his head so that he could brush his lips along the top of her shoulder, the king nuzzled into his queens throat as she continued to speak.

Her declaration that they would likely not get any sleep was true. Rest could wait. The only thing he'd been able to think about for weeks was how much he wanted to be with Yanni again. How badly he wanted to embrace her and how worried he was that she thought he had died. Seeing her there in that meeting chamber, Vangelis' guards warding them off... he had spotted the hopeful look in his wife's eyes from across the room and had been absolutely overjoyed to reconnect with her. It had only been maybe a few hours previous, but it felt like it had been a lifetime.

Time passed all too quickly with her and Tython found every need and excuse to savor every moment that they had together. A low laugh falling off his lips, he lifted his head and kissed her once more, both of his hands moving up to brush along the delicate contours of her jaw as he did so. Breathing out, he started to step himself out of the tub, breaking the kiss that he had initiated. "I think, Yanni, that you are incredibly correct in your assumptions," Tython said, a boyish smirk settling on his features. "While I would be overjoyed to simply fall asleep beside you in our bed, there is so much more to reaquaint myself with," his voice was low, almost commanding. Steadying himself on solid ground, he helped Yanni out of the bath, not paying any attention at all to their dripping forms.

Holding both of her hands, he pulled her back to him, kissing her for a third time; harder and more passionately than the last two. He would do whatever she wanted of him if it made her happy. That was all he really ever wanted to see from her. That she was happy. But that intense love in her eyes had become something that was far more addicting that happiness.

There had been a few times in his life when he had assumed he'd never get to hold his wife again. Once, when he was a bit younger and an injury had come to him on the battlefield. He had sent his sons back ahead of him and stayed longer in the northern lands to heal. He remembered Yanni's face, even now, when he had walked back into the manor, surrounded by a contingent of his own soldiers and looking for all the world to be healthy and alright. Safe. Not dead. She had looked much like she had when he had broken into the Dikastirio with his men. Surprised, a little shocked, but overall, joyful. As joyful as she would allow herself to appear before her people.

Then, there had been this moment. That moment when he had sent his own men to their deaths just so that he could assess who their enemies were. There had been a thought, not so long ago, that all of them could have been drowned in the sea. For Tython to be here now was yet another blessing from the gods, and one that he would not while away with nothing to show for it. Because now he had a wife to satisfy. A wife who had thought him dead for weeks and needed a different type of comfort from himself.

Tython was contented just to be with her, but it was the intimacy that Yanni needed. Intimacy that he would never deny her so long as he lived, because it was one of the few things that was always on his mind. Memories of the beautiful wife that he had wed to bring strength to both Taengea and Colchis, but who had brought him more strength and more sons than he could have ever hoped for.

She pulled him back toward the bed and he followed as a dutiful husband was supposed to. She crawled up onto the bed and he followed her in a few short strides, sitting on his knees before her and leaning into her body. His lips grazed her neck first, large hands spreading down her sides so that he could bring her that much closer to himself. The king was often insatiable when it came to Yanni, and though he did take women when he was on a war campaign, those moments were to satisfy a need. This, laying with his wife of so many years, was to satisfy a very different need. The need to feel love and profound satisfaction that came from these so fleeting moments of intimacy.

"It has been far too long, hasn't it?" Tython rumbled against her neck, one of his arms winding around her waist as he leaned into her, forcing her to lay across their bed. Lips wandering along her skin, he trailed his lips along her collarbone and then downward, giving very special attention to her breasts. His tongue swirled against one of the stiff peaks, his grey gaze lifted toward her face so that he could observe her reactions for himself. Long ago, a dance like this had been measured and born out of necessity. Now, he just liked to hear the sounds that tumbled from her lips. He could be rather cruel on the battlefield and in the bedchamber, and he silently wondered how far he could push her until she was pleading.

He never had a plan when he fell into bed with his wife. Honestly, the only thing he wanted was her, but he never planned out every moment with her like he did a battle. Because this wasn't a battlefield. It as their marriage bed and everything they did here was consensual between them. He knew how she reacted to him and he knew what she liked. She didn't always liked to be teased, but he liked to explore his way along her body in the way a man might survey new lands.

Each time he felt like he learned something new about his wife. Even after all of these years, there was always something new and exciting to discover. This time, it was the fact that she didn't seem inclined to let him tease her body the way that he had in times past. He could see why. Tython had been dead to her just hours before. And she had nearly witnessed their son die by drinking poisoned wine. It was not out of the realm of possibility that Queen Yanni was done with things done in halves.

Stretching up so that he could properly reach her mouth, the king did not deny his wife's kiss, meeting her lips with the same fervor that she had shown him in the moment. As he kissed her, his hand wandered the length of her body, shifting her beneath him so that he could settle properly between her legs, though he did not enter her just yet, too distracted by her taste to truly think about such a thing at that moment. Not to mention her words that trailed heat down his spine and made him almost too dizzy and off balance with the heat of them.

Pulling back to gaze down at her, his stormy gaze a mixture between hungry and voracious, his appetite whetted in the best way just with a few utterances. There had been some fear, initially, when the man had started to leave for war after his marriage, that Yanni would find another lover to sate her while he was gone. In the same way that he might take a whore while on a battlefield. To sate a need. To him, it meant literally nothing and he truly rarely thought about anything but the end. He was not about giving whores their pleasure. Only his own.

But his wife? She deserved everything she had missed and then some.

"Then you shall have me," the man murmured slowly, leaning down to kiss her again. Large hands trailing their way up her thighs, Tython brought her body as close to his as he could, leaning her back into the comfort of their bed as he shifted his hips so that he could position himself properly. One hand shifted between them for just a moment before the King was sinking into his mate, catching her lips with his own once more before she could make much of a noise.

The goal was to make her dizzy and malible. She could be feisty, but Tython was sure that it wouldn't last long now that they were both getting what they wanted with one another. Months of being apart had lead to this and Tython was intent on bringing her to her pleasure in the most torturous and satisfying manner he could think of.

He had once thought that she might take another lover. Once she had given him one son. But one son turned into two. Then three. Then four, and he had realized long ago that she was never going to lay with anyone but him. Yanni of Dimitrou was one of the most loyal women that Tython could have ever been matched with. And despite their lack of love at marrige, there had been curiosity. A want to learn more and just be. They were friends first, but their union had made them lovers. Their union had given them love, but their years together had made them a strong and formidable couple. He was nothing without his queen, but she could still be everything without him.

That thought alone was the one reason that Tython was always comfortable leaving the whole of Colchis in his wife's hands. Because she could do her duty better than anyone, but she could also do his in his stead. If there was anything that Tython had to thank King Silas and Queen Kaiti for, it was bringing him the absolute perfect match. He had not realized it then, when they were first meeting, but he certainly realized it now. Once more, Yanni was everything good about Colchis and Taengea in one small, but powerful woman.

And Tython loved her. Deeply. Immensely. Beyond anything he had ever felt. Love was pain and passion and this. Pleasure. But even the worst of wounds did not compare to the feeling that separation brought. Tython was never a lovesick man, but he felt the profound difference in himself when Yanni was not by his side. In the Northern Lands, she could not be, but he had asserted many times to himself that if she thought she could bring the North down around them, then she would.

Tython's lips worked her jaw until the moment that she flipped them, forcing him onto his back with he did without a moment's hesitation. A breathy groan escaped him at the loss of her warmth, and then again when she enveloped him once more. Yanni, beautiful and lithe astride him, left him breathless, his fingers aching to wander up the delicate frame of her body just so that he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips. He thought about it, and then he was well and truly sliding his hands upward, grazing her abdomen, her ribs, then her breasts before one hand trailed its way back down her sternum. Tython's other hand wandered its way back down Yanni's spine, coming to rest at her lower back, allowing him a little bit of leverage to meet the movement of her hips with his own.

Dark gaze hooded and overwhelmingly distracted, the King chuckled when he noted the way that Yanni bit her bottom lip, the sound quickly turning into another breathy groan of pleasure. "You look so beautiful," he whispered to his wife, dropping his head back a bit, the sudden bite of pleasure building. Ah. He hadn't wanted to finish so quickly, but all it took was the silent reminder that he could do as he wished with her for as long as he desired that night. Come morning, he could reunite with the rest of his family.

The slight signals of Yanni's pleasure, the trembling of her legs, that was what he was looking for. What he wanted in that moment. Utter bliss that he knew he could give her again and again. But for now, he ached for the intimacy of that shared moment, his hands sliding back along her legs, distracted by the silken skin. Tython forced himself to sit up just a bit, his hips rolling upward to meet his wife's and his arms coming to wrap around her body. One hand fisted into her hair, aiming to bring her closer to his lips, his forehead resting against hers. The other helped guide her body, suddenly desperate to share in the pleasure they would find together.

"Yanni," Tython murmured, the sound almost strangled, against her lips. "Let go," he finally ordered her, his teeth starting to grit together, his breath hissing between them. "Let go," he said again before he was kissing her again, his tongue finding hers as he barrelled toward complete and total bliss.