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Night had passed and, unable to sleep but a few hours through the night, Thea anxiously awaited the dawn. Nethis had promised the solution would be delivered to her, and for her to expect to be indisposed for the duration of the day, if not longer. There was no question or fear in her mind over such things. After having nearly poisoned herself to death on more than one occasion in her youth when testing experimental mixtures of herbs and powders, Thea was no stranger to the pains that could be inflicted, unseen to the naked eye.
Dressed by her handmaiden in one of the few chitons that dared fit her appropriately now with this condition, Thea waited within her chambers, breaking her fast in solitude as her mind wandered. To pass the time, she found a long-discarded book of ancient tales, creaking the binding as she sought faintly familiar passages and setting about to reading it.
It was not long before the promised tonic was delivered and without hesitation, Thea drank it to the last drop. It was vile, as to be expected, and Thea sat herself in one of her sitting area chairs. One hand loosely gripped at the carved arm of the chair as the other mindlessly drifted to curve her palm around the narrow expanse beneath her navel, taking a few steadying breaths as she awaited whatever hell it was to bring.
A few moments passed, and other than the acrid aftertaste of the mixture and the slight gurgling at the base of her throat, there was no immediate response. Thea let time pass, sitting motionless and voiceless in the chair.
Thoughts began to flit behind her eyes as her brows leveled from their usual arches into an unthinkably straight line across her brow, pressing two small, parallel lines between them. She should have felt something, right? If not, then, there could only be a few, stark answers.
Reaching for the tonic bottle once again, she examined it, finding hardly a drop through the glass. Did Nethis make the correct dosage? To seek her out to ask for a stronger concoction would only cause Nethis to direct her to the other option...
It was too late...
Over the course of the hour, Thea waited, and the tightness in her chest swelled and constricted - having nothing to do with the tonic she drank and everything to do with the dreadful realizations marking her mind.
This could not be, she thought incredulously, her hand now all but a claw across her abdomen as the skin around her eyes tightened threateningly. Thea could hardly bring herself to look down at her own torso as realization after realization washed across her, like waves across the shore.
'Assuming you are not too far along for it to work...'
Thea took in a shuddering breath, a precursor to an oncoming onslaught of emotion as it sank in. The tonic had not worked. The nausea that washed through her was nothing to do with the steps taken to lose a child....but instead, the workings of the child in her womb, as if in defiance.
A thing that would refused to die...
Much like its father…
Time had passed quickly when wordlessly, one of Nethis’ servants peered into the room before slipping out soundlessly. Dread filled her, knowing the report that they would deliver to their mistress...and the motion it would set into place.
'...if it fails, you will do as I say...'
In a flurry of motion that startled her handmaiden, Thea was taken by a surge of fear that manifested in her sudden rise from her chair and the shimmering smash that followed the glass bottle being launched across the room with a high-pitched snarl of frustration. Pulling her arm away from the concerned hands of her maid, Thea brought her hands to her face - first over her eyes then over her numbing lips as the breaths taken in through her nose became shallower and shallower, a moment.
Pressing her fingertips against her lips - two tingling, numb corner of her body meeting without feeling a thing - Thea forced a few deeper breaths as she fluttered her eyes open, allowing the continuing thoughts to fall into place.
For a brief moment, Thea wished she could feign ignorance as Nethis' orders, but the gods had both blessed and cursed her to share her sister's mind all these years. For others to follow the scheme would have been one thing, with pitfalls and misgivings.
For Thea, it was crystal clear.
Dion was mere steps away from the throne, a few well-timed deaths and inconveniences could align him. More than a few schemes and machinations to bring it into being. Enough to bring their house more suspicion.
In this, though? It was too easy. Vangelis, here on the eve of war, would need an heir, particularly with the memory of his short stint as a nearly-assassinated monarch pressed so recently into his memory. The pressure for him to fulfill his role - if not presently, then at some point in the future - was ever present.
Here, the potential ease of it all would be set before him…
But it would mean the betrayal of everything that had existed between them so far. It was the pride of the matter, perhaps, that made her so adamant to rid herself of this...issue altogether. Nearly a decade and a half, she had held to her end of the loose and informal agreement they had, given the first and only such scare that was based on insecurity and youthful ignorance.
Embarrassment crept in, sidling alongside the shame she felt from the first moment she suspected this as a possibility. It baffled her that the tea she prepared had failed her, after all these years. It was true that a body could grow used to a treatment over time, but this was ridiculous - yet as the tightness of her chiton and the nausea she faced and all other signs pointed her towards the truth, it became more and more unbearable.
Beyond it all, she had agreed to her fate now, confident in the tonic given to her by her sister. Even if it had succeeded, a favor owed to Nethis of Thanasi was a dangerous bargaining chip...but this was no longer a favor. This was submission to her will.
Thea’s lip curled a moment, the fervor of her tumultuous feelings and thoughts sparking a rare flame of rebellion within her. Do as Nethis said?
Like hell.
Storming from the room, Thea sharply demanded that her handmaiden remain, despite the concerned look and soft sound of protest that squeaked through her lips as Thea passed through the doors of her chambers with a quick snap of the lock.
Approaching one of Nethis’ servants, she asked for her mistress’ location, but they merely replied that she had left the Archontiko an hour before. A wrinkle of disgust and irritation snaked across her nose as she sharply turned towards the gardens.
At first, she began to seek simply a breath of sharp, cool air across the browning vines of her garden. As winter set in, the leaves of green had turned to decay. How unfair, she thought selfishly, her hand now drifting down to the familiar place she had seen Evras’ fall when she found herself with child...this time, her eyes falling into that place.
Her mind for a brief moment thought of Princess Tisiphone as she held her on their short sojourn to the Temple. It thought of Dion, now nearly a man capable of beginning military training, but was once so small he could fit easily into the crook of Thea’s arm.
The worst of it all is that Thea did not loathe the child the grew inside her, just as no one loathed the animal that was brought to the table. Their death was for a purpose, and if this child would simply pass on into the arms of the gods before being brought into this unfortunate existance - either as a bastard of a Thanasi witch…or the offspring of two royal Houses joined by the all-but-forced wedding of the bride and bridegroom….it would be for the best.
Stoic tears began to prickle and drip from her lower lashes, not wanting to accept the defeat of this moment, when her gaze turned upward to the staircase that descended to the center of the courtyard.
Her mind wheeled a moment, recalling Dion’s Anthesteria - a fateful day that saw the beginning of this chain of events between herself and Vangelis...and the ending of a life for an niece or nephew that she would never know.
Evras had fallen hard..and the child passed quickly.
Thea closed her eyes, knowing the gods were watching her and silently begged their forgiveness, knowing that even they must have been hesitant to give such to a Thanasi at this point - after all, this entire course could have been serving as their punishment for some thing or another belonging to her name or her actions. If they wished, they could prevent this as well, but feeling like a captured animal in a cage, Thea would be damned if she did not seek one final attempt to resolve this.
In those brief few moments before her eyes opened, she not only asked forgiveness of the gods...but also of the child in her womb. They did not ask for this, it was not their fault.
But, this could not come to pass.
Opening her eyes and taking a few steadying, shudderingNo breaths, she started up the stairs her pace quickening as she nearly reached the top.
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Night had passed and, unable to sleep but a few hours through the night, Thea anxiously awaited the dawn. Nethis had promised the solution would be delivered to her, and for her to expect to be indisposed for the duration of the day, if not longer. There was no question or fear in her mind over such things. After having nearly poisoned herself to death on more than one occasion in her youth when testing experimental mixtures of herbs and powders, Thea was no stranger to the pains that could be inflicted, unseen to the naked eye.
Dressed by her handmaiden in one of the few chitons that dared fit her appropriately now with this condition, Thea waited within her chambers, breaking her fast in solitude as her mind wandered. To pass the time, she found a long-discarded book of ancient tales, creaking the binding as she sought faintly familiar passages and setting about to reading it.
It was not long before the promised tonic was delivered and without hesitation, Thea drank it to the last drop. It was vile, as to be expected, and Thea sat herself in one of her sitting area chairs. One hand loosely gripped at the carved arm of the chair as the other mindlessly drifted to curve her palm around the narrow expanse beneath her navel, taking a few steadying breaths as she awaited whatever hell it was to bring.
A few moments passed, and other than the acrid aftertaste of the mixture and the slight gurgling at the base of her throat, there was no immediate response. Thea let time pass, sitting motionless and voiceless in the chair.
Thoughts began to flit behind her eyes as her brows leveled from their usual arches into an unthinkably straight line across her brow, pressing two small, parallel lines between them. She should have felt something, right? If not, then, there could only be a few, stark answers.
Reaching for the tonic bottle once again, she examined it, finding hardly a drop through the glass. Did Nethis make the correct dosage? To seek her out to ask for a stronger concoction would only cause Nethis to direct her to the other option...
It was too late...
Over the course of the hour, Thea waited, and the tightness in her chest swelled and constricted - having nothing to do with the tonic she drank and everything to do with the dreadful realizations marking her mind.
This could not be, she thought incredulously, her hand now all but a claw across her abdomen as the skin around her eyes tightened threateningly. Thea could hardly bring herself to look down at her own torso as realization after realization washed across her, like waves across the shore.
'Assuming you are not too far along for it to work...'
Thea took in a shuddering breath, a precursor to an oncoming onslaught of emotion as it sank in. The tonic had not worked. The nausea that washed through her was nothing to do with the steps taken to lose a child....but instead, the workings of the child in her womb, as if in defiance.
A thing that would refused to die...
Much like its father…
Time had passed quickly when wordlessly, one of Nethis’ servants peered into the room before slipping out soundlessly. Dread filled her, knowing the report that they would deliver to their mistress...and the motion it would set into place.
'...if it fails, you will do as I say...'
In a flurry of motion that startled her handmaiden, Thea was taken by a surge of fear that manifested in her sudden rise from her chair and the shimmering smash that followed the glass bottle being launched across the room with a high-pitched snarl of frustration. Pulling her arm away from the concerned hands of her maid, Thea brought her hands to her face - first over her eyes then over her numbing lips as the breaths taken in through her nose became shallower and shallower, a moment.
Pressing her fingertips against her lips - two tingling, numb corner of her body meeting without feeling a thing - Thea forced a few deeper breaths as she fluttered her eyes open, allowing the continuing thoughts to fall into place.
For a brief moment, Thea wished she could feign ignorance as Nethis' orders, but the gods had both blessed and cursed her to share her sister's mind all these years. For others to follow the scheme would have been one thing, with pitfalls and misgivings.
For Thea, it was crystal clear.
Dion was mere steps away from the throne, a few well-timed deaths and inconveniences could align him. More than a few schemes and machinations to bring it into being. Enough to bring their house more suspicion.
In this, though? It was too easy. Vangelis, here on the eve of war, would need an heir, particularly with the memory of his short stint as a nearly-assassinated monarch pressed so recently into his memory. The pressure for him to fulfill his role - if not presently, then at some point in the future - was ever present.
Here, the potential ease of it all would be set before him…
But it would mean the betrayal of everything that had existed between them so far. It was the pride of the matter, perhaps, that made her so adamant to rid herself of this...issue altogether. Nearly a decade and a half, she had held to her end of the loose and informal agreement they had, given the first and only such scare that was based on insecurity and youthful ignorance.
Embarrassment crept in, sidling alongside the shame she felt from the first moment she suspected this as a possibility. It baffled her that the tea she prepared had failed her, after all these years. It was true that a body could grow used to a treatment over time, but this was ridiculous - yet as the tightness of her chiton and the nausea she faced and all other signs pointed her towards the truth, it became more and more unbearable.
Beyond it all, she had agreed to her fate now, confident in the tonic given to her by her sister. Even if it had succeeded, a favor owed to Nethis of Thanasi was a dangerous bargaining chip...but this was no longer a favor. This was submission to her will.
Thea’s lip curled a moment, the fervor of her tumultuous feelings and thoughts sparking a rare flame of rebellion within her. Do as Nethis said?
Like hell.
Storming from the room, Thea sharply demanded that her handmaiden remain, despite the concerned look and soft sound of protest that squeaked through her lips as Thea passed through the doors of her chambers with a quick snap of the lock.
Approaching one of Nethis’ servants, she asked for her mistress’ location, but they merely replied that she had left the Archontiko an hour before. A wrinkle of disgust and irritation snaked across her nose as she sharply turned towards the gardens.
At first, she began to seek simply a breath of sharp, cool air across the browning vines of her garden. As winter set in, the leaves of green had turned to decay. How unfair, she thought selfishly, her hand now drifting down to the familiar place she had seen Evras’ fall when she found herself with child...this time, her eyes falling into that place.
Her mind for a brief moment thought of Princess Tisiphone as she held her on their short sojourn to the Temple. It thought of Dion, now nearly a man capable of beginning military training, but was once so small he could fit easily into the crook of Thea’s arm.
The worst of it all is that Thea did not loathe the child the grew inside her, just as no one loathed the animal that was brought to the table. Their death was for a purpose, and if this child would simply pass on into the arms of the gods before being brought into this unfortunate existance - either as a bastard of a Thanasi witch…or the offspring of two royal Houses joined by the all-but-forced wedding of the bride and bridegroom….it would be for the best.
Stoic tears began to prickle and drip from her lower lashes, not wanting to accept the defeat of this moment, when her gaze turned upward to the staircase that descended to the center of the courtyard.
Her mind wheeled a moment, recalling Dion’s Anthesteria - a fateful day that saw the beginning of this chain of events between herself and Vangelis...and the ending of a life for an niece or nephew that she would never know.
Evras had fallen hard..and the child passed quickly.
Thea closed her eyes, knowing the gods were watching her and silently begged their forgiveness, knowing that even they must have been hesitant to give such to a Thanasi at this point - after all, this entire course could have been serving as their punishment for some thing or another belonging to her name or her actions. If they wished, they could prevent this as well, but feeling like a captured animal in a cage, Thea would be damned if she did not seek one final attempt to resolve this.
In those brief few moments before her eyes opened, she not only asked forgiveness of the gods...but also of the child in her womb. They did not ask for this, it was not their fault.
But, this could not come to pass.
Opening her eyes and taking a few steadying, shudderingNo breaths, she started up the stairs her pace quickening as she nearly reached the top.
Night had passed and, unable to sleep but a few hours through the night, Thea anxiously awaited the dawn. Nethis had promised the solution would be delivered to her, and for her to expect to be indisposed for the duration of the day, if not longer. There was no question or fear in her mind over such things. After having nearly poisoned herself to death on more than one occasion in her youth when testing experimental mixtures of herbs and powders, Thea was no stranger to the pains that could be inflicted, unseen to the naked eye.
Dressed by her handmaiden in one of the few chitons that dared fit her appropriately now with this condition, Thea waited within her chambers, breaking her fast in solitude as her mind wandered. To pass the time, she found a long-discarded book of ancient tales, creaking the binding as she sought faintly familiar passages and setting about to reading it.
It was not long before the promised tonic was delivered and without hesitation, Thea drank it to the last drop. It was vile, as to be expected, and Thea sat herself in one of her sitting area chairs. One hand loosely gripped at the carved arm of the chair as the other mindlessly drifted to curve her palm around the narrow expanse beneath her navel, taking a few steadying breaths as she awaited whatever hell it was to bring.
A few moments passed, and other than the acrid aftertaste of the mixture and the slight gurgling at the base of her throat, there was no immediate response. Thea let time pass, sitting motionless and voiceless in the chair.
Thoughts began to flit behind her eyes as her brows leveled from their usual arches into an unthinkably straight line across her brow, pressing two small, parallel lines between them. She should have felt something, right? If not, then, there could only be a few, stark answers.
Reaching for the tonic bottle once again, she examined it, finding hardly a drop through the glass. Did Nethis make the correct dosage? To seek her out to ask for a stronger concoction would only cause Nethis to direct her to the other option...
It was too late...
Over the course of the hour, Thea waited, and the tightness in her chest swelled and constricted - having nothing to do with the tonic she drank and everything to do with the dreadful realizations marking her mind.
This could not be, she thought incredulously, her hand now all but a claw across her abdomen as the skin around her eyes tightened threateningly. Thea could hardly bring herself to look down at her own torso as realization after realization washed across her, like waves across the shore.
'Assuming you are not too far along for it to work...'
Thea took in a shuddering breath, a precursor to an oncoming onslaught of emotion as it sank in. The tonic had not worked. The nausea that washed through her was nothing to do with the steps taken to lose a child....but instead, the workings of the child in her womb, as if in defiance.
A thing that would refused to die...
Much like its father…
Time had passed quickly when wordlessly, one of Nethis’ servants peered into the room before slipping out soundlessly. Dread filled her, knowing the report that they would deliver to their mistress...and the motion it would set into place.
'...if it fails, you will do as I say...'
In a flurry of motion that startled her handmaiden, Thea was taken by a surge of fear that manifested in her sudden rise from her chair and the shimmering smash that followed the glass bottle being launched across the room with a high-pitched snarl of frustration. Pulling her arm away from the concerned hands of her maid, Thea brought her hands to her face - first over her eyes then over her numbing lips as the breaths taken in through her nose became shallower and shallower, a moment.
Pressing her fingertips against her lips - two tingling, numb corner of her body meeting without feeling a thing - Thea forced a few deeper breaths as she fluttered her eyes open, allowing the continuing thoughts to fall into place.
For a brief moment, Thea wished she could feign ignorance as Nethis' orders, but the gods had both blessed and cursed her to share her sister's mind all these years. For others to follow the scheme would have been one thing, with pitfalls and misgivings.
For Thea, it was crystal clear.
Dion was mere steps away from the throne, a few well-timed deaths and inconveniences could align him. More than a few schemes and machinations to bring it into being. Enough to bring their house more suspicion.
In this, though? It was too easy. Vangelis, here on the eve of war, would need an heir, particularly with the memory of his short stint as a nearly-assassinated monarch pressed so recently into his memory. The pressure for him to fulfill his role - if not presently, then at some point in the future - was ever present.
Here, the potential ease of it all would be set before him…
But it would mean the betrayal of everything that had existed between them so far. It was the pride of the matter, perhaps, that made her so adamant to rid herself of this...issue altogether. Nearly a decade and a half, she had held to her end of the loose and informal agreement they had, given the first and only such scare that was based on insecurity and youthful ignorance.
Embarrassment crept in, sidling alongside the shame she felt from the first moment she suspected this as a possibility. It baffled her that the tea she prepared had failed her, after all these years. It was true that a body could grow used to a treatment over time, but this was ridiculous - yet as the tightness of her chiton and the nausea she faced and all other signs pointed her towards the truth, it became more and more unbearable.
Beyond it all, she had agreed to her fate now, confident in the tonic given to her by her sister. Even if it had succeeded, a favor owed to Nethis of Thanasi was a dangerous bargaining chip...but this was no longer a favor. This was submission to her will.
Thea’s lip curled a moment, the fervor of her tumultuous feelings and thoughts sparking a rare flame of rebellion within her. Do as Nethis said?
Like hell.
Storming from the room, Thea sharply demanded that her handmaiden remain, despite the concerned look and soft sound of protest that squeaked through her lips as Thea passed through the doors of her chambers with a quick snap of the lock.
Approaching one of Nethis’ servants, she asked for her mistress’ location, but they merely replied that she had left the Archontiko an hour before. A wrinkle of disgust and irritation snaked across her nose as she sharply turned towards the gardens.
At first, she began to seek simply a breath of sharp, cool air across the browning vines of her garden. As winter set in, the leaves of green had turned to decay. How unfair, she thought selfishly, her hand now drifting down to the familiar place she had seen Evras’ fall when she found herself with child...this time, her eyes falling into that place.
Her mind for a brief moment thought of Princess Tisiphone as she held her on their short sojourn to the Temple. It thought of Dion, now nearly a man capable of beginning military training, but was once so small he could fit easily into the crook of Thea’s arm.
The worst of it all is that Thea did not loathe the child the grew inside her, just as no one loathed the animal that was brought to the table. Their death was for a purpose, and if this child would simply pass on into the arms of the gods before being brought into this unfortunate existance - either as a bastard of a Thanasi witch…or the offspring of two royal Houses joined by the all-but-forced wedding of the bride and bridegroom….it would be for the best.
Stoic tears began to prickle and drip from her lower lashes, not wanting to accept the defeat of this moment, when her gaze turned upward to the staircase that descended to the center of the courtyard.
Her mind wheeled a moment, recalling Dion’s Anthesteria - a fateful day that saw the beginning of this chain of events between herself and Vangelis...and the ending of a life for an niece or nephew that she would never know.
Evras had fallen hard..and the child passed quickly.
Thea closed her eyes, knowing the gods were watching her and silently begged their forgiveness, knowing that even they must have been hesitant to give such to a Thanasi at this point - after all, this entire course could have been serving as their punishment for some thing or another belonging to her name or her actions. If they wished, they could prevent this as well, but feeling like a captured animal in a cage, Thea would be damned if she did not seek one final attempt to resolve this.
In those brief few moments before her eyes opened, she not only asked forgiveness of the gods...but also of the child in her womb. They did not ask for this, it was not their fault.
But, this could not come to pass.
Opening her eyes and taking a few steadying, shudderingNo breaths, she started up the stairs her pace quickening as she nearly reached the top.
There were many things in this world that were hard to stop. There were the storms of Boreas boaring down from the northern lands. There were the hurricanes that came from the south in the autumn months - hurricanes currently due to start wreaking havoc upon the Kirakles isles. There were the seas and their currents - their determination to go where they wished regardless of craft and sailor who dared to venture out upon its surface. There was the will of the Gods and the spinning yarn of the Fates. For what they decided was what came to pass and there was no mortal on earth who could stop such calamities and determinations of the divine and the worldly nature of their intent.
And while Vangelis would never be so hybris as to suggest himself to be on equal par with the power and strength of the Gods... there would be those who saw Vangelis upon that day that would declare him as unstoppable as the winds of Boreas, the rains of the south or the great, guiding spirit of Poseidon's domain; that he held all the power of the Fates and would not see a mortal being deter or misdirect him from his goal.
And his goal that day was to arrive at the Thanasi household and to find one particular woman with a ruthless efficiency motivated by a burning sickness in his gut.
Nethis had left the Kotas manor with a smile of equal sickness. Though hers had been sweet. A sticky and cloying sense of satisfaction that had turned Vangelis' stomach and lingered in his mind as he had gone back to his duties in his study. It was a smile of confidence. Of self-satisfaction. An expression that knew the truth and what could not be disturbed. It held zero worry that Vangelis would find her to be lying...
Which told him only that she was telling the truth. That Thea was with child.
From that point onwards, it had been impossible for Vangelis to work. A skilled compartmentaliser he might have been - able to place thoughts over one part of his life into a box that remained closed whilst he dealt with matters in another facet of his world. But that only worked when the information he held was conclusive - when he knew what went where and how to prioritise the responsibilities before him.
It would not do to simply place his conversation with Nethis in some murky middle ground, uncertain of its home because he had yet to speak to her specifically and determine the absolute truth of the situation.
Such thoughts bounced back and forth in Vangelis' head until he was too frustrated and angry at his own lack of focus to be able to turn to his work and snapping at Silanos to continue the studios tasks he had been given, Vangelis left the Kotas manor without a guard and with no warning to those within.
Likely to receive a hiding from Nike for such a refusal to take the protective measures that a near-King should, Vangelis could not summon within himself the desire to care. Instead, he simply snapped at the guards on the front door of the manor to bring him his horse and in only a moment he was once more astride Phobos and leaving his home through the front gates.
With a speed that was near but not quite dangerous, Vangelis headed through the streets of the Upper Levels of the city, caring not for who saw him for his features were, as normal, a careful mask of expressionless calm. He rode with a steady stride and a speedy rate, the journey to the Thanasi estate taking only a few minutes.
By the time he arrived, he was in the state of determination that no mortal guardsman at the archontiko could halt. He stormed passed the Thanasi guards, passed the Kotas soldiers that had been added to the household security because of Dionysios' recent actions. He continued on through the corridors and rooms, snapping at a steward who entered the hallway up ahead.
"Where is Lady Thea?" He ordered, his appearance familiar enough to the man not to have him asking who the forthright stranger in the house was. For there were few in Midas who did not know the face of their future king.
The colour drained from the retainer’s face, his features contorting into an apologetic note as he shook his head.
"I do not know, Your Highness." The last two words left his lips on a tone of disbelief - as if he were shocked beyond measure that they were leaving his mouth at all - that the man to hold the address was standing before him. "I... I was just in her rooms to check on her and she was not there. Perhaps the gardens...?"
The glare that had now taken its place upon Vangelis' expression, disintegrating the calm that had once held itself place, had set the man stuttering and then drifting into an uncertain quiet.
Not waiting to be directed, for he had visited the household once or twice and vaguely remembered the way, Vangelis headed for the nearest flight of stairs back down to the ground floor and then strode down two more corridors to the back of the house.
Perhaps it was a miracle or divine intervention that had him not encountering any Thanasi on his way. Or perhaps his speed of stride simply ensured that such a possibility was small to none. Either way it was luck on their part not to come before Vangelis at that moment, for he would have flattened anyone who attempted to bar his path.
Reaching the grounds and stepping out into the sunlight, Vangelis winced in the bright light for a moment before he spotted the dark gown draped across a figure that was familiar to him in so many ways.
Noticing her ascending a set of steps, heading up towards the pathway upon which he tread, Vangelis' feet carried him faster, every other step a becoming a jog. Her proximity - her appearance and the truth that she held - drew him against any other force of sense and his voice was deep, rough and harsh as he shouted her name.
"Thea!"
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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There were many things in this world that were hard to stop. There were the storms of Boreas boaring down from the northern lands. There were the hurricanes that came from the south in the autumn months - hurricanes currently due to start wreaking havoc upon the Kirakles isles. There were the seas and their currents - their determination to go where they wished regardless of craft and sailor who dared to venture out upon its surface. There was the will of the Gods and the spinning yarn of the Fates. For what they decided was what came to pass and there was no mortal on earth who could stop such calamities and determinations of the divine and the worldly nature of their intent.
And while Vangelis would never be so hybris as to suggest himself to be on equal par with the power and strength of the Gods... there would be those who saw Vangelis upon that day that would declare him as unstoppable as the winds of Boreas, the rains of the south or the great, guiding spirit of Poseidon's domain; that he held all the power of the Fates and would not see a mortal being deter or misdirect him from his goal.
And his goal that day was to arrive at the Thanasi household and to find one particular woman with a ruthless efficiency motivated by a burning sickness in his gut.
Nethis had left the Kotas manor with a smile of equal sickness. Though hers had been sweet. A sticky and cloying sense of satisfaction that had turned Vangelis' stomach and lingered in his mind as he had gone back to his duties in his study. It was a smile of confidence. Of self-satisfaction. An expression that knew the truth and what could not be disturbed. It held zero worry that Vangelis would find her to be lying...
Which told him only that she was telling the truth. That Thea was with child.
From that point onwards, it had been impossible for Vangelis to work. A skilled compartmentaliser he might have been - able to place thoughts over one part of his life into a box that remained closed whilst he dealt with matters in another facet of his world. But that only worked when the information he held was conclusive - when he knew what went where and how to prioritise the responsibilities before him.
It would not do to simply place his conversation with Nethis in some murky middle ground, uncertain of its home because he had yet to speak to her specifically and determine the absolute truth of the situation.
Such thoughts bounced back and forth in Vangelis' head until he was too frustrated and angry at his own lack of focus to be able to turn to his work and snapping at Silanos to continue the studios tasks he had been given, Vangelis left the Kotas manor without a guard and with no warning to those within.
Likely to receive a hiding from Nike for such a refusal to take the protective measures that a near-King should, Vangelis could not summon within himself the desire to care. Instead, he simply snapped at the guards on the front door of the manor to bring him his horse and in only a moment he was once more astride Phobos and leaving his home through the front gates.
With a speed that was near but not quite dangerous, Vangelis headed through the streets of the Upper Levels of the city, caring not for who saw him for his features were, as normal, a careful mask of expressionless calm. He rode with a steady stride and a speedy rate, the journey to the Thanasi estate taking only a few minutes.
By the time he arrived, he was in the state of determination that no mortal guardsman at the archontiko could halt. He stormed passed the Thanasi guards, passed the Kotas soldiers that had been added to the household security because of Dionysios' recent actions. He continued on through the corridors and rooms, snapping at a steward who entered the hallway up ahead.
"Where is Lady Thea?" He ordered, his appearance familiar enough to the man not to have him asking who the forthright stranger in the house was. For there were few in Midas who did not know the face of their future king.
The colour drained from the retainer’s face, his features contorting into an apologetic note as he shook his head.
"I do not know, Your Highness." The last two words left his lips on a tone of disbelief - as if he were shocked beyond measure that they were leaving his mouth at all - that the man to hold the address was standing before him. "I... I was just in her rooms to check on her and she was not there. Perhaps the gardens...?"
The glare that had now taken its place upon Vangelis' expression, disintegrating the calm that had once held itself place, had set the man stuttering and then drifting into an uncertain quiet.
Not waiting to be directed, for he had visited the household once or twice and vaguely remembered the way, Vangelis headed for the nearest flight of stairs back down to the ground floor and then strode down two more corridors to the back of the house.
Perhaps it was a miracle or divine intervention that had him not encountering any Thanasi on his way. Or perhaps his speed of stride simply ensured that such a possibility was small to none. Either way it was luck on their part not to come before Vangelis at that moment, for he would have flattened anyone who attempted to bar his path.
Reaching the grounds and stepping out into the sunlight, Vangelis winced in the bright light for a moment before he spotted the dark gown draped across a figure that was familiar to him in so many ways.
Noticing her ascending a set of steps, heading up towards the pathway upon which he tread, Vangelis' feet carried him faster, every other step a becoming a jog. Her proximity - her appearance and the truth that she held - drew him against any other force of sense and his voice was deep, rough and harsh as he shouted her name.
"Thea!"
There were many things in this world that were hard to stop. There were the storms of Boreas boaring down from the northern lands. There were the hurricanes that came from the south in the autumn months - hurricanes currently due to start wreaking havoc upon the Kirakles isles. There were the seas and their currents - their determination to go where they wished regardless of craft and sailor who dared to venture out upon its surface. There was the will of the Gods and the spinning yarn of the Fates. For what they decided was what came to pass and there was no mortal on earth who could stop such calamities and determinations of the divine and the worldly nature of their intent.
And while Vangelis would never be so hybris as to suggest himself to be on equal par with the power and strength of the Gods... there would be those who saw Vangelis upon that day that would declare him as unstoppable as the winds of Boreas, the rains of the south or the great, guiding spirit of Poseidon's domain; that he held all the power of the Fates and would not see a mortal being deter or misdirect him from his goal.
And his goal that day was to arrive at the Thanasi household and to find one particular woman with a ruthless efficiency motivated by a burning sickness in his gut.
Nethis had left the Kotas manor with a smile of equal sickness. Though hers had been sweet. A sticky and cloying sense of satisfaction that had turned Vangelis' stomach and lingered in his mind as he had gone back to his duties in his study. It was a smile of confidence. Of self-satisfaction. An expression that knew the truth and what could not be disturbed. It held zero worry that Vangelis would find her to be lying...
Which told him only that she was telling the truth. That Thea was with child.
From that point onwards, it had been impossible for Vangelis to work. A skilled compartmentaliser he might have been - able to place thoughts over one part of his life into a box that remained closed whilst he dealt with matters in another facet of his world. But that only worked when the information he held was conclusive - when he knew what went where and how to prioritise the responsibilities before him.
It would not do to simply place his conversation with Nethis in some murky middle ground, uncertain of its home because he had yet to speak to her specifically and determine the absolute truth of the situation.
Such thoughts bounced back and forth in Vangelis' head until he was too frustrated and angry at his own lack of focus to be able to turn to his work and snapping at Silanos to continue the studios tasks he had been given, Vangelis left the Kotas manor without a guard and with no warning to those within.
Likely to receive a hiding from Nike for such a refusal to take the protective measures that a near-King should, Vangelis could not summon within himself the desire to care. Instead, he simply snapped at the guards on the front door of the manor to bring him his horse and in only a moment he was once more astride Phobos and leaving his home through the front gates.
With a speed that was near but not quite dangerous, Vangelis headed through the streets of the Upper Levels of the city, caring not for who saw him for his features were, as normal, a careful mask of expressionless calm. He rode with a steady stride and a speedy rate, the journey to the Thanasi estate taking only a few minutes.
By the time he arrived, he was in the state of determination that no mortal guardsman at the archontiko could halt. He stormed passed the Thanasi guards, passed the Kotas soldiers that had been added to the household security because of Dionysios' recent actions. He continued on through the corridors and rooms, snapping at a steward who entered the hallway up ahead.
"Where is Lady Thea?" He ordered, his appearance familiar enough to the man not to have him asking who the forthright stranger in the house was. For there were few in Midas who did not know the face of their future king.
The colour drained from the retainer’s face, his features contorting into an apologetic note as he shook his head.
"I do not know, Your Highness." The last two words left his lips on a tone of disbelief - as if he were shocked beyond measure that they were leaving his mouth at all - that the man to hold the address was standing before him. "I... I was just in her rooms to check on her and she was not there. Perhaps the gardens...?"
The glare that had now taken its place upon Vangelis' expression, disintegrating the calm that had once held itself place, had set the man stuttering and then drifting into an uncertain quiet.
Not waiting to be directed, for he had visited the household once or twice and vaguely remembered the way, Vangelis headed for the nearest flight of stairs back down to the ground floor and then strode down two more corridors to the back of the house.
Perhaps it was a miracle or divine intervention that had him not encountering any Thanasi on his way. Or perhaps his speed of stride simply ensured that such a possibility was small to none. Either way it was luck on their part not to come before Vangelis at that moment, for he would have flattened anyone who attempted to bar his path.
Reaching the grounds and stepping out into the sunlight, Vangelis winced in the bright light for a moment before he spotted the dark gown draped across a figure that was familiar to him in so many ways.
Noticing her ascending a set of steps, heading up towards the pathway upon which he tread, Vangelis' feet carried him faster, every other step a becoming a jog. Her proximity - her appearance and the truth that she held - drew him against any other force of sense and his voice was deep, rough and harsh as he shouted her name.
"Thea!"
Each step felt like a curse set upon her, like she waded through the resistance of water in order to take each next step. Realistically, it was the onset of fatigue from her condition, or perhaps the effects of the inefficient tonic that Nethis had given to her. Thea felt dread of pain that was to come, possibly broken bones and assuredly deep bruises from such a fall, but it was a solution - the last one she had at her disposal now.
Her eyes had been fixated on the steps before her, unaware of the man approaching. It was only when her name resonated off the stone walls did her breath catch and heart skip a beat.
Thea stumbled and caught herself on the railing at the near deafening boom of her name drew her eyes slowly up to the top of the stairs to confirm the worst pit of dread swirling like Charybdis in her stomach. If the gods were kind, the ground would have opened up to swallow her whole to spare her this moment.
Thea looked a mess, clinging to the railing as the frenetic and near-frenzied pace she mounted them stripped away all semblance of grace and poise that she had crafted throughout her life. Eyes rimmed in red and devoid of any khol or rouge, as she had planned to see no other living being that day. Her hair, while braided away, had already loosened strands attempting to escape in the winter wind. In her life and in her Dionysian worship, she had played the part of a madwoman, but only now did she truly feel as though she toed the line of such a name.
Nethis told him. Otherwise, why would Vangelis of Kotas dare step foot into the Thanasi Archontikó seeking her out, despite his father's would-be assassin residing in the rooms high above. Damn.
The cool veneer of her face was not completely shattered, but was significantly cracked with her lips forming a soft 'o' as she tried to catch a breath that she had not realized she lost. A deep, dragging fear set in as he loomed over her, reminiscent of the towering statues of the gods in their cavernous Hall. His face was not set in its usual calm demeanor - and that alone frightened her.
Irrationally panicked thoughts filled her mind.
No bastards. That had been an agreement between them all these years. Was he here to...ensure that? There was no question how easily he could overpower her if he wished it. A hardened warrior and now seeming to resemble Ares himself, looming at the top of the staircase as if it were his own pedestal, Thea's mind whipped through unlikely visions of what could happen. The fear of it sent her taking a step back.
As she stepped, her sandal caught on the draping fabric of her gown, tugging on it along her back as if it yanked her from behind, even pulling her hand away from the railing as it tried to grasp for it once again, missing.
Her eyes flew wide and a startled exclamation escaped her lips as she looked away behind her at the staircase that seemed to triple in height. The weightless feeling of falling seemed to lift her heart from within her ribcage and into her throat.
In a frozen moment, she found the irony in it all - that what she had planned to do was happening, yet once again, not on her terms. Her eyes clenched closed, bracing.
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Each step felt like a curse set upon her, like she waded through the resistance of water in order to take each next step. Realistically, it was the onset of fatigue from her condition, or perhaps the effects of the inefficient tonic that Nethis had given to her. Thea felt dread of pain that was to come, possibly broken bones and assuredly deep bruises from such a fall, but it was a solution - the last one she had at her disposal now.
Her eyes had been fixated on the steps before her, unaware of the man approaching. It was only when her name resonated off the stone walls did her breath catch and heart skip a beat.
Thea stumbled and caught herself on the railing at the near deafening boom of her name drew her eyes slowly up to the top of the stairs to confirm the worst pit of dread swirling like Charybdis in her stomach. If the gods were kind, the ground would have opened up to swallow her whole to spare her this moment.
Thea looked a mess, clinging to the railing as the frenetic and near-frenzied pace she mounted them stripped away all semblance of grace and poise that she had crafted throughout her life. Eyes rimmed in red and devoid of any khol or rouge, as she had planned to see no other living being that day. Her hair, while braided away, had already loosened strands attempting to escape in the winter wind. In her life and in her Dionysian worship, she had played the part of a madwoman, but only now did she truly feel as though she toed the line of such a name.
Nethis told him. Otherwise, why would Vangelis of Kotas dare step foot into the Thanasi Archontikó seeking her out, despite his father's would-be assassin residing in the rooms high above. Damn.
The cool veneer of her face was not completely shattered, but was significantly cracked with her lips forming a soft 'o' as she tried to catch a breath that she had not realized she lost. A deep, dragging fear set in as he loomed over her, reminiscent of the towering statues of the gods in their cavernous Hall. His face was not set in its usual calm demeanor - and that alone frightened her.
Irrationally panicked thoughts filled her mind.
No bastards. That had been an agreement between them all these years. Was he here to...ensure that? There was no question how easily he could overpower her if he wished it. A hardened warrior and now seeming to resemble Ares himself, looming at the top of the staircase as if it were his own pedestal, Thea's mind whipped through unlikely visions of what could happen. The fear of it sent her taking a step back.
As she stepped, her sandal caught on the draping fabric of her gown, tugging on it along her back as if it yanked her from behind, even pulling her hand away from the railing as it tried to grasp for it once again, missing.
Her eyes flew wide and a startled exclamation escaped her lips as she looked away behind her at the staircase that seemed to triple in height. The weightless feeling of falling seemed to lift her heart from within her ribcage and into her throat.
In a frozen moment, she found the irony in it all - that what she had planned to do was happening, yet once again, not on her terms. Her eyes clenched closed, bracing.
Each step felt like a curse set upon her, like she waded through the resistance of water in order to take each next step. Realistically, it was the onset of fatigue from her condition, or perhaps the effects of the inefficient tonic that Nethis had given to her. Thea felt dread of pain that was to come, possibly broken bones and assuredly deep bruises from such a fall, but it was a solution - the last one she had at her disposal now.
Her eyes had been fixated on the steps before her, unaware of the man approaching. It was only when her name resonated off the stone walls did her breath catch and heart skip a beat.
Thea stumbled and caught herself on the railing at the near deafening boom of her name drew her eyes slowly up to the top of the stairs to confirm the worst pit of dread swirling like Charybdis in her stomach. If the gods were kind, the ground would have opened up to swallow her whole to spare her this moment.
Thea looked a mess, clinging to the railing as the frenetic and near-frenzied pace she mounted them stripped away all semblance of grace and poise that she had crafted throughout her life. Eyes rimmed in red and devoid of any khol or rouge, as she had planned to see no other living being that day. Her hair, while braided away, had already loosened strands attempting to escape in the winter wind. In her life and in her Dionysian worship, she had played the part of a madwoman, but only now did she truly feel as though she toed the line of such a name.
Nethis told him. Otherwise, why would Vangelis of Kotas dare step foot into the Thanasi Archontikó seeking her out, despite his father's would-be assassin residing in the rooms high above. Damn.
The cool veneer of her face was not completely shattered, but was significantly cracked with her lips forming a soft 'o' as she tried to catch a breath that she had not realized she lost. A deep, dragging fear set in as he loomed over her, reminiscent of the towering statues of the gods in their cavernous Hall. His face was not set in its usual calm demeanor - and that alone frightened her.
Irrationally panicked thoughts filled her mind.
No bastards. That had been an agreement between them all these years. Was he here to...ensure that? There was no question how easily he could overpower her if he wished it. A hardened warrior and now seeming to resemble Ares himself, looming at the top of the staircase as if it were his own pedestal, Thea's mind whipped through unlikely visions of what could happen. The fear of it sent her taking a step back.
As she stepped, her sandal caught on the draping fabric of her gown, tugging on it along her back as if it yanked her from behind, even pulling her hand away from the railing as it tried to grasp for it once again, missing.
Her eyes flew wide and a startled exclamation escaped her lips as she looked away behind her at the staircase that seemed to triple in height. The weightless feeling of falling seemed to lift her heart from within her ribcage and into her throat.
In a frozen moment, she found the irony in it all - that what she had planned to do was happening, yet once again, not on her terms. Her eyes clenched closed, bracing.
Vangelis had not the self-awareness to consider how he looked as she stormed through the Thanasi gardens, the middle daughter of the household his destination and target. Like a predator, too powerful to stalk or circle his prey and simply charging forward to claim it, it was understandable at the young woman's mind would turn to an automatic expectation of violence. His expression was hardly that of a man who wished to seek a peaceful resolution to the issues before him. But action and determination - that which stamped such volatile features upon his face - were the only ways in which Vangelis had been trained to handle stress and difficult circumstances. As such, he was ignorant of Thea's fear and only saw his path forwards, towards an understanding of truth that he would not accept from the lips of her sister.
Yet, such a truth would have to wait. For, as soon as he was within a few feet of Thea, there was a sudden jolt to her step and to her body. Her balance and gravity suddenly seemed out of place and the expression of shock and fear flashed over her eyes. As her foot caught, her body was yanked and her entire being was set to go over backwards, her arms falling wide of anything that could stall her fall, Vangelis acted on impulse.
The last two, long strides he needed to be by her side were completed in a sprint, his long arms reaching out with a strength and purpose that would not yield to the force of gravity that drew Thea towards a dangerous and potentially deadly fall down the stone steps. As his fingers wrapped around her wrist, Vangelis hauled back, the comfort of her wrist taking a backseat in his calculations for her life. Likely spraining the join but ensuring that her fall was redirected, Vangelis tugged Thea back towards himself and the top of the stairs, catching her before she was too far gone.
In a single motion, as her frame came up against his and her familiar scent invaded his nose, Vangelis dipped to take an arm beneath the back of her knees. From one heartbeat to the next, Thea went from teetering, suspended on air that would show her no mercy as she fell, to resting in arms far more reliable and safe.
His jaw tight and popping at the hinge of his jaw, Vangelis flatly ignored any potential refusals of being carried from the woman he held in his arms and instead immediately began to walk back down the path he had already covered, his target clearly the stone bench just a few yards away, where he could place her back down...
As soon as she was settled, Vangelis could do little but stand before her, suddenly out of breath for no apparent reason, hands on hips and frame towering over her feminine shape, blocking the sun and casting shadows over his expression of anger and resentment.
"Is it true?" He simply demanded, seeing no reason to pad or dance around the topic that she knew he would be here to discuss.
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Vangelis had not the self-awareness to consider how he looked as she stormed through the Thanasi gardens, the middle daughter of the household his destination and target. Like a predator, too powerful to stalk or circle his prey and simply charging forward to claim it, it was understandable at the young woman's mind would turn to an automatic expectation of violence. His expression was hardly that of a man who wished to seek a peaceful resolution to the issues before him. But action and determination - that which stamped such volatile features upon his face - were the only ways in which Vangelis had been trained to handle stress and difficult circumstances. As such, he was ignorant of Thea's fear and only saw his path forwards, towards an understanding of truth that he would not accept from the lips of her sister.
Yet, such a truth would have to wait. For, as soon as he was within a few feet of Thea, there was a sudden jolt to her step and to her body. Her balance and gravity suddenly seemed out of place and the expression of shock and fear flashed over her eyes. As her foot caught, her body was yanked and her entire being was set to go over backwards, her arms falling wide of anything that could stall her fall, Vangelis acted on impulse.
The last two, long strides he needed to be by her side were completed in a sprint, his long arms reaching out with a strength and purpose that would not yield to the force of gravity that drew Thea towards a dangerous and potentially deadly fall down the stone steps. As his fingers wrapped around her wrist, Vangelis hauled back, the comfort of her wrist taking a backseat in his calculations for her life. Likely spraining the join but ensuring that her fall was redirected, Vangelis tugged Thea back towards himself and the top of the stairs, catching her before she was too far gone.
In a single motion, as her frame came up against his and her familiar scent invaded his nose, Vangelis dipped to take an arm beneath the back of her knees. From one heartbeat to the next, Thea went from teetering, suspended on air that would show her no mercy as she fell, to resting in arms far more reliable and safe.
His jaw tight and popping at the hinge of his jaw, Vangelis flatly ignored any potential refusals of being carried from the woman he held in his arms and instead immediately began to walk back down the path he had already covered, his target clearly the stone bench just a few yards away, where he could place her back down...
As soon as she was settled, Vangelis could do little but stand before her, suddenly out of breath for no apparent reason, hands on hips and frame towering over her feminine shape, blocking the sun and casting shadows over his expression of anger and resentment.
"Is it true?" He simply demanded, seeing no reason to pad or dance around the topic that she knew he would be here to discuss.
Vangelis had not the self-awareness to consider how he looked as she stormed through the Thanasi gardens, the middle daughter of the household his destination and target. Like a predator, too powerful to stalk or circle his prey and simply charging forward to claim it, it was understandable at the young woman's mind would turn to an automatic expectation of violence. His expression was hardly that of a man who wished to seek a peaceful resolution to the issues before him. But action and determination - that which stamped such volatile features upon his face - were the only ways in which Vangelis had been trained to handle stress and difficult circumstances. As such, he was ignorant of Thea's fear and only saw his path forwards, towards an understanding of truth that he would not accept from the lips of her sister.
Yet, such a truth would have to wait. For, as soon as he was within a few feet of Thea, there was a sudden jolt to her step and to her body. Her balance and gravity suddenly seemed out of place and the expression of shock and fear flashed over her eyes. As her foot caught, her body was yanked and her entire being was set to go over backwards, her arms falling wide of anything that could stall her fall, Vangelis acted on impulse.
The last two, long strides he needed to be by her side were completed in a sprint, his long arms reaching out with a strength and purpose that would not yield to the force of gravity that drew Thea towards a dangerous and potentially deadly fall down the stone steps. As his fingers wrapped around her wrist, Vangelis hauled back, the comfort of her wrist taking a backseat in his calculations for her life. Likely spraining the join but ensuring that her fall was redirected, Vangelis tugged Thea back towards himself and the top of the stairs, catching her before she was too far gone.
In a single motion, as her frame came up against his and her familiar scent invaded his nose, Vangelis dipped to take an arm beneath the back of her knees. From one heartbeat to the next, Thea went from teetering, suspended on air that would show her no mercy as she fell, to resting in arms far more reliable and safe.
His jaw tight and popping at the hinge of his jaw, Vangelis flatly ignored any potential refusals of being carried from the woman he held in his arms and instead immediately began to walk back down the path he had already covered, his target clearly the stone bench just a few yards away, where he could place her back down...
As soon as she was settled, Vangelis could do little but stand before her, suddenly out of breath for no apparent reason, hands on hips and frame towering over her feminine shape, blocking the sun and casting shadows over his expression of anger and resentment.
"Is it true?" He simply demanded, seeing no reason to pad or dance around the topic that she knew he would be here to discuss.
For a brief moment, she imagined it all being over once she fell. Not her life, but at least, this circumstance. Miscarriages happened all the time under lighter circumstances, she told herself, but the stubbornness of this child within her given its blatant disregard in the face of both a preventative tonic and an abortive tonic called for these measures. In a way, she felt grateful in that moment of suspension to have accidentally caused this part to happen, as she was uncertain if she would have been willing to take the first step towards a tumble on her own.
Sharp pain shot through her arm and released a second startled exclamation from her. The pressure of his hands around the points of her wrist, grinding the smaller bones within against one another brought a refresh of tears to her eyes, faint echoes of the angry, frightened tears she had shed earlier in the morning. In a flash, she all but collided with Vangelis' chest from the force of his pull, but did not have a moment to pull away before a third yelp of surprise echoed through the lower gardens as he lifted her from the ground.
A few half-word exclamations escaped her as she did not struggle in his arms but instinctively protested the indignity of it all. The shock of increased warmth through her left wrist left her hissing in pain and she gingerly wrapped her right hand around, pressing it tenderly to her chest. Her eyes looked from her wrist to the path to the house, but not again at Vangelis' face.
Cradling her arm on her thighs as he set her down on the bench, Thea almost welcomed the distraction of her injury, though her mind was already scrambling. This was not how it was meant to be. If fate had been kind, she would have had her solution by now and she would need to tell him 'all is well, return to your home and your war, there is nothing to worry about, there is no child'...but life was cruel it seemed.
Shame burnt her cheeks against the pallor that a shock of pain and the dread of this situation had spread across her skin, leaving her feeling cold and drained of blood.
Finally looking up at his looming, backlit figure, Thea found her spine straightening, attempting to retain some sense of grace in all of this mess and knowing that it was a lost cause. There was only the slightest quiver of her lower lip before she replied, her voice low and husky from the ordeal just moments before.
"It is," she began, her brow lowered as if mirroring his expression, "Not for lack of trying, though."
The words were spit out, not against him but against herself. How he would interpret it would be up to him.
Still, in this moment, she was not a child and Vangelis was not her father, so she decided she would not face this as if it were some punishment. No, she had done everything in her power to prevent this. They had decided that time would be their last and she agreed to it. This was not something she wanted to cling to, and yet the rage and betrayal in his eyes reflected those thoughts perfectly. What had Nethis said to him precisely? Later, she would ask, but for now, she stood and took a few steps away from his looming figure, away from the house so it would not seem as if she was fleeing from the conversation. Instead, it was more remniscent of her standing on the stage of her shame and owning it.
"Nothing changed. I took the tonic when I came home, as before. It was as usual, until the sickness came in the mornings. Meals soured in my mouth, my chitons no longer fit," she added, her free hand smoothing over the fabric of her loose, billowing gown as one of the few things that fit her without finding new clothes, "and...my courses have not arrived. Individually, all of these issues could be explained by one element or another, but it was yesterday I came to realize the truth of it."
Thea's eyes met his for a moment before pinning her elbows closer again to her sides, her hand cradling her injured wrist. Her eyes flicked away again, back towards the staircase he delivered her from, her words low, "I tried to fix this. I had hoped to do so before you found out. I took a tonic this morning, but...it did not work. Too much time has passed for it to be effective."
Her eyes drew back to his, their narrowness not at him specifically, but at the one who brought this moment to pass, "I had hoped to resolve this before you ever knew. To hold fast to our agreement and stand by my word."
It was likely a longer string of words than Thea had laced together before Vangelis or any other living being in quite some time. Yet, in this case, it was necessary. It felt as if she were pleading for her life before the gods, but instead, it was her former lover - and future monarch.
Panic masqueraded as daring for a moment, as she took a step closer to him, her eyes pinning his as she firmly added as a promise, "It is not too late for me to do so. I can find a way." If he truly did not want a Thanasi bastard, if he truly wished to marry Selene and make her the rightful queen and mother of his children, then they still could make that happen.
It was a desperate attempt, but these were desperate times.
"Nothing has to change."
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For a brief moment, she imagined it all being over once she fell. Not her life, but at least, this circumstance. Miscarriages happened all the time under lighter circumstances, she told herself, but the stubbornness of this child within her given its blatant disregard in the face of both a preventative tonic and an abortive tonic called for these measures. In a way, she felt grateful in that moment of suspension to have accidentally caused this part to happen, as she was uncertain if she would have been willing to take the first step towards a tumble on her own.
Sharp pain shot through her arm and released a second startled exclamation from her. The pressure of his hands around the points of her wrist, grinding the smaller bones within against one another brought a refresh of tears to her eyes, faint echoes of the angry, frightened tears she had shed earlier in the morning. In a flash, she all but collided with Vangelis' chest from the force of his pull, but did not have a moment to pull away before a third yelp of surprise echoed through the lower gardens as he lifted her from the ground.
A few half-word exclamations escaped her as she did not struggle in his arms but instinctively protested the indignity of it all. The shock of increased warmth through her left wrist left her hissing in pain and she gingerly wrapped her right hand around, pressing it tenderly to her chest. Her eyes looked from her wrist to the path to the house, but not again at Vangelis' face.
Cradling her arm on her thighs as he set her down on the bench, Thea almost welcomed the distraction of her injury, though her mind was already scrambling. This was not how it was meant to be. If fate had been kind, she would have had her solution by now and she would need to tell him 'all is well, return to your home and your war, there is nothing to worry about, there is no child'...but life was cruel it seemed.
Shame burnt her cheeks against the pallor that a shock of pain and the dread of this situation had spread across her skin, leaving her feeling cold and drained of blood.
Finally looking up at his looming, backlit figure, Thea found her spine straightening, attempting to retain some sense of grace in all of this mess and knowing that it was a lost cause. There was only the slightest quiver of her lower lip before she replied, her voice low and husky from the ordeal just moments before.
"It is," she began, her brow lowered as if mirroring his expression, "Not for lack of trying, though."
The words were spit out, not against him but against herself. How he would interpret it would be up to him.
Still, in this moment, she was not a child and Vangelis was not her father, so she decided she would not face this as if it were some punishment. No, she had done everything in her power to prevent this. They had decided that time would be their last and she agreed to it. This was not something she wanted to cling to, and yet the rage and betrayal in his eyes reflected those thoughts perfectly. What had Nethis said to him precisely? Later, she would ask, but for now, she stood and took a few steps away from his looming figure, away from the house so it would not seem as if she was fleeing from the conversation. Instead, it was more remniscent of her standing on the stage of her shame and owning it.
"Nothing changed. I took the tonic when I came home, as before. It was as usual, until the sickness came in the mornings. Meals soured in my mouth, my chitons no longer fit," she added, her free hand smoothing over the fabric of her loose, billowing gown as one of the few things that fit her without finding new clothes, "and...my courses have not arrived. Individually, all of these issues could be explained by one element or another, but it was yesterday I came to realize the truth of it."
Thea's eyes met his for a moment before pinning her elbows closer again to her sides, her hand cradling her injured wrist. Her eyes flicked away again, back towards the staircase he delivered her from, her words low, "I tried to fix this. I had hoped to do so before you found out. I took a tonic this morning, but...it did not work. Too much time has passed for it to be effective."
Her eyes drew back to his, their narrowness not at him specifically, but at the one who brought this moment to pass, "I had hoped to resolve this before you ever knew. To hold fast to our agreement and stand by my word."
It was likely a longer string of words than Thea had laced together before Vangelis or any other living being in quite some time. Yet, in this case, it was necessary. It felt as if she were pleading for her life before the gods, but instead, it was her former lover - and future monarch.
Panic masqueraded as daring for a moment, as she took a step closer to him, her eyes pinning his as she firmly added as a promise, "It is not too late for me to do so. I can find a way." If he truly did not want a Thanasi bastard, if he truly wished to marry Selene and make her the rightful queen and mother of his children, then they still could make that happen.
It was a desperate attempt, but these were desperate times.
"Nothing has to change."
For a brief moment, she imagined it all being over once she fell. Not her life, but at least, this circumstance. Miscarriages happened all the time under lighter circumstances, she told herself, but the stubbornness of this child within her given its blatant disregard in the face of both a preventative tonic and an abortive tonic called for these measures. In a way, she felt grateful in that moment of suspension to have accidentally caused this part to happen, as she was uncertain if she would have been willing to take the first step towards a tumble on her own.
Sharp pain shot through her arm and released a second startled exclamation from her. The pressure of his hands around the points of her wrist, grinding the smaller bones within against one another brought a refresh of tears to her eyes, faint echoes of the angry, frightened tears she had shed earlier in the morning. In a flash, she all but collided with Vangelis' chest from the force of his pull, but did not have a moment to pull away before a third yelp of surprise echoed through the lower gardens as he lifted her from the ground.
A few half-word exclamations escaped her as she did not struggle in his arms but instinctively protested the indignity of it all. The shock of increased warmth through her left wrist left her hissing in pain and she gingerly wrapped her right hand around, pressing it tenderly to her chest. Her eyes looked from her wrist to the path to the house, but not again at Vangelis' face.
Cradling her arm on her thighs as he set her down on the bench, Thea almost welcomed the distraction of her injury, though her mind was already scrambling. This was not how it was meant to be. If fate had been kind, she would have had her solution by now and she would need to tell him 'all is well, return to your home and your war, there is nothing to worry about, there is no child'...but life was cruel it seemed.
Shame burnt her cheeks against the pallor that a shock of pain and the dread of this situation had spread across her skin, leaving her feeling cold and drained of blood.
Finally looking up at his looming, backlit figure, Thea found her spine straightening, attempting to retain some sense of grace in all of this mess and knowing that it was a lost cause. There was only the slightest quiver of her lower lip before she replied, her voice low and husky from the ordeal just moments before.
"It is," she began, her brow lowered as if mirroring his expression, "Not for lack of trying, though."
The words were spit out, not against him but against herself. How he would interpret it would be up to him.
Still, in this moment, she was not a child and Vangelis was not her father, so she decided she would not face this as if it were some punishment. No, she had done everything in her power to prevent this. They had decided that time would be their last and she agreed to it. This was not something she wanted to cling to, and yet the rage and betrayal in his eyes reflected those thoughts perfectly. What had Nethis said to him precisely? Later, she would ask, but for now, she stood and took a few steps away from his looming figure, away from the house so it would not seem as if she was fleeing from the conversation. Instead, it was more remniscent of her standing on the stage of her shame and owning it.
"Nothing changed. I took the tonic when I came home, as before. It was as usual, until the sickness came in the mornings. Meals soured in my mouth, my chitons no longer fit," she added, her free hand smoothing over the fabric of her loose, billowing gown as one of the few things that fit her without finding new clothes, "and...my courses have not arrived. Individually, all of these issues could be explained by one element or another, but it was yesterday I came to realize the truth of it."
Thea's eyes met his for a moment before pinning her elbows closer again to her sides, her hand cradling her injured wrist. Her eyes flicked away again, back towards the staircase he delivered her from, her words low, "I tried to fix this. I had hoped to do so before you found out. I took a tonic this morning, but...it did not work. Too much time has passed for it to be effective."
Her eyes drew back to his, their narrowness not at him specifically, but at the one who brought this moment to pass, "I had hoped to resolve this before you ever knew. To hold fast to our agreement and stand by my word."
It was likely a longer string of words than Thea had laced together before Vangelis or any other living being in quite some time. Yet, in this case, it was necessary. It felt as if she were pleading for her life before the gods, but instead, it was her former lover - and future monarch.
Panic masqueraded as daring for a moment, as she took a step closer to him, her eyes pinning his as she firmly added as a promise, "It is not too late for me to do so. I can find a way." If he truly did not want a Thanasi bastard, if he truly wished to marry Selene and make her the rightful queen and mother of his children, then they still could make that happen.
It was a desperate attempt, but these were desperate times.
"Nothing has to change."
As Thea cradled her wrist to her chest, Vangelis felt little by way of sympathy. His mind was too far gone on the assumptions and conclusions of her revelation to think upon empathy or shame that he had hurt her. Specifically, as it had been his quick actions that had seen to her rescue from a fall that would have hurt far more. Or risked the life of the child that she now confirmed existed within her.
As soon as the words had left her lips; the words that confirmed him to be an expectant parent, Vangelis felt some sort of certainty shift in his mind. Like a door shutting or an axe swinging down, it was his soul rather than his mind or body that made such a decision of concrete choice. His word had shifted. A new reality now came to pass.
And whether he liked that new reality more or less than his previous one, there was nought that he could do about it. It wasn't his decision to make. The Gods had made their will clear.
When Thea stood up and moved away from him, Vangelis allowed her, remaining exactly where he was. His frame was still and rigid, as if he had been turned to stone by her revelation. Only his head moved as he turned to watch her step into the sunlight as if she were in a daze of her own life.
He listened to her words but in general the details went in one ear and out the other as none of them changed the scenario as he saw it. As soon as she confirmed her state of pregnancy, everything that followed was meaningless to him until she vowed to continue attempting to rid herself of the child.
At that, Vangelis was on his feet and striding towards her faster than he had realised the intention to do so.
"Everything has changed." Vangelis determined, rejecting her suggestion for them to return to how it was before.
This wasn't like the first time. This wasn't a momentary panic that turned out to have been over nothing. Vangelis knew that if Thea wasn't a hundred percent certain of her condition, she would have said nothing of it until she was. Which meant that there was a living child within her. His child. A Kotas child. A potential heir to the throne.
"You'll do nothing to harm it." Vangelis ordered, a finger raised to emphasise his point and his gaze intense as he invaded Thea's personal space. He couldn't quite yet bring himself to refer to the babe as 'he' or 'she', still adjusting to this shift in reality. Yet, his persistence that it was not to be harmed was clear as day.
His eyes narrowed, jaw jutting as he clenched his teeth, Vangelis settled into his role of leader and prince with all comfort, his orders leaving his lips in a tone that offered no leeway to be ignored or resisted.
"You're now to live in the Kotas manor." He told her, his expression brokering no argument. "You will become my wife and birth my child as a legitimate heir. I will accept no other course of action."
Had he stopped to consider his actions, Vangelis might have been shocked at how quickly he came to such conclusions and demands. Especially given his recent arrangement with Selene. But then, culture and family ethos were a powerful combination. And Vangelis had been raised to believe in blood above all else. In the sanctity of familial connection. For a man as defensive and protective of siblings and parents, it might not have been surprising that he now felt a surge of possession and ownership over Thea. Not, in particular, for herself, but for the child she now carried. And he wasn't about to permit her or anyone else to harm it or claim it.
Without permitting her a moment to reaction, Vangelis reached out and latched a hold upon her upper arm before turning towards the manor. He would permit her the time to pack a few essentials but otherwise he would be taking her to his home directly. The world around him had changed and he was a man efficient and deadly in his ability to move with it. He would permit himself emotions and personal consideration later. Right now, any moment that Thea was allowed to be alone or in the company of her own bloodline, was a moment of risk to his unborn child. And those two things would never, from this point onwards, fall into unity as far as Vangelis was concerned...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As Thea cradled her wrist to her chest, Vangelis felt little by way of sympathy. His mind was too far gone on the assumptions and conclusions of her revelation to think upon empathy or shame that he had hurt her. Specifically, as it had been his quick actions that had seen to her rescue from a fall that would have hurt far more. Or risked the life of the child that she now confirmed existed within her.
As soon as the words had left her lips; the words that confirmed him to be an expectant parent, Vangelis felt some sort of certainty shift in his mind. Like a door shutting or an axe swinging down, it was his soul rather than his mind or body that made such a decision of concrete choice. His word had shifted. A new reality now came to pass.
And whether he liked that new reality more or less than his previous one, there was nought that he could do about it. It wasn't his decision to make. The Gods had made their will clear.
When Thea stood up and moved away from him, Vangelis allowed her, remaining exactly where he was. His frame was still and rigid, as if he had been turned to stone by her revelation. Only his head moved as he turned to watch her step into the sunlight as if she were in a daze of her own life.
He listened to her words but in general the details went in one ear and out the other as none of them changed the scenario as he saw it. As soon as she confirmed her state of pregnancy, everything that followed was meaningless to him until she vowed to continue attempting to rid herself of the child.
At that, Vangelis was on his feet and striding towards her faster than he had realised the intention to do so.
"Everything has changed." Vangelis determined, rejecting her suggestion for them to return to how it was before.
This wasn't like the first time. This wasn't a momentary panic that turned out to have been over nothing. Vangelis knew that if Thea wasn't a hundred percent certain of her condition, she would have said nothing of it until she was. Which meant that there was a living child within her. His child. A Kotas child. A potential heir to the throne.
"You'll do nothing to harm it." Vangelis ordered, a finger raised to emphasise his point and his gaze intense as he invaded Thea's personal space. He couldn't quite yet bring himself to refer to the babe as 'he' or 'she', still adjusting to this shift in reality. Yet, his persistence that it was not to be harmed was clear as day.
His eyes narrowed, jaw jutting as he clenched his teeth, Vangelis settled into his role of leader and prince with all comfort, his orders leaving his lips in a tone that offered no leeway to be ignored or resisted.
"You're now to live in the Kotas manor." He told her, his expression brokering no argument. "You will become my wife and birth my child as a legitimate heir. I will accept no other course of action."
Had he stopped to consider his actions, Vangelis might have been shocked at how quickly he came to such conclusions and demands. Especially given his recent arrangement with Selene. But then, culture and family ethos were a powerful combination. And Vangelis had been raised to believe in blood above all else. In the sanctity of familial connection. For a man as defensive and protective of siblings and parents, it might not have been surprising that he now felt a surge of possession and ownership over Thea. Not, in particular, for herself, but for the child she now carried. And he wasn't about to permit her or anyone else to harm it or claim it.
Without permitting her a moment to reaction, Vangelis reached out and latched a hold upon her upper arm before turning towards the manor. He would permit her the time to pack a few essentials but otherwise he would be taking her to his home directly. The world around him had changed and he was a man efficient and deadly in his ability to move with it. He would permit himself emotions and personal consideration later. Right now, any moment that Thea was allowed to be alone or in the company of her own bloodline, was a moment of risk to his unborn child. And those two things would never, from this point onwards, fall into unity as far as Vangelis was concerned...
As Thea cradled her wrist to her chest, Vangelis felt little by way of sympathy. His mind was too far gone on the assumptions and conclusions of her revelation to think upon empathy or shame that he had hurt her. Specifically, as it had been his quick actions that had seen to her rescue from a fall that would have hurt far more. Or risked the life of the child that she now confirmed existed within her.
As soon as the words had left her lips; the words that confirmed him to be an expectant parent, Vangelis felt some sort of certainty shift in his mind. Like a door shutting or an axe swinging down, it was his soul rather than his mind or body that made such a decision of concrete choice. His word had shifted. A new reality now came to pass.
And whether he liked that new reality more or less than his previous one, there was nought that he could do about it. It wasn't his decision to make. The Gods had made their will clear.
When Thea stood up and moved away from him, Vangelis allowed her, remaining exactly where he was. His frame was still and rigid, as if he had been turned to stone by her revelation. Only his head moved as he turned to watch her step into the sunlight as if she were in a daze of her own life.
He listened to her words but in general the details went in one ear and out the other as none of them changed the scenario as he saw it. As soon as she confirmed her state of pregnancy, everything that followed was meaningless to him until she vowed to continue attempting to rid herself of the child.
At that, Vangelis was on his feet and striding towards her faster than he had realised the intention to do so.
"Everything has changed." Vangelis determined, rejecting her suggestion for them to return to how it was before.
This wasn't like the first time. This wasn't a momentary panic that turned out to have been over nothing. Vangelis knew that if Thea wasn't a hundred percent certain of her condition, she would have said nothing of it until she was. Which meant that there was a living child within her. His child. A Kotas child. A potential heir to the throne.
"You'll do nothing to harm it." Vangelis ordered, a finger raised to emphasise his point and his gaze intense as he invaded Thea's personal space. He couldn't quite yet bring himself to refer to the babe as 'he' or 'she', still adjusting to this shift in reality. Yet, his persistence that it was not to be harmed was clear as day.
His eyes narrowed, jaw jutting as he clenched his teeth, Vangelis settled into his role of leader and prince with all comfort, his orders leaving his lips in a tone that offered no leeway to be ignored or resisted.
"You're now to live in the Kotas manor." He told her, his expression brokering no argument. "You will become my wife and birth my child as a legitimate heir. I will accept no other course of action."
Had he stopped to consider his actions, Vangelis might have been shocked at how quickly he came to such conclusions and demands. Especially given his recent arrangement with Selene. But then, culture and family ethos were a powerful combination. And Vangelis had been raised to believe in blood above all else. In the sanctity of familial connection. For a man as defensive and protective of siblings and parents, it might not have been surprising that he now felt a surge of possession and ownership over Thea. Not, in particular, for herself, but for the child she now carried. And he wasn't about to permit her or anyone else to harm it or claim it.
Without permitting her a moment to reaction, Vangelis reached out and latched a hold upon her upper arm before turning towards the manor. He would permit her the time to pack a few essentials but otherwise he would be taking her to his home directly. The world around him had changed and he was a man efficient and deadly in his ability to move with it. He would permit himself emotions and personal consideration later. Right now, any moment that Thea was allowed to be alone or in the company of her own bloodline, was a moment of risk to his unborn child. And those two things would never, from this point onwards, fall into unity as far as Vangelis was concerned...
Thea was not a fearful or timid woman in the standard sense, but the sight of a clearly enraged man storming towards her - one who had already inflicted an unintentional injury to her wrist that she feared may begin to swell within the hour - resulted in a few sudden, backwards steps. This time, her hand reached down to pull the backs of her skirts away to keep from falling again. Damn this oversized gown!
It took all of her willpower to keep her feet from continuing to take steps away from him, her injured wrist now pressing against her bodice in a way that was partially to stabilize the joint, but unconsciously and unknowingly a protective movement over her abdomen. Even as she stopped, she did not face him directly, her left shoulder facing him and her right away as if to make herself smaller in a defensive pose, her head even curled down in a slight recoil, chin pointed down and away as if awaiting a blow that her mind told her would never come.
Instead, it was in response to the finger jutted in her face and the snap of his order, resulting in a flinch that she wished she could undo. Eyelids fluttered rapidly, breaking her usual unblinking gaze as she glanced about almost willing for someone else to see and stop this, knowing that wish would go unanswered. Not standing up against the Crown Prince. In this, she was on her own.
His order for her not to harm the child landed strangely in her gut, and it appeared across her face wrung itself into confusion. Had the agreement been to not have bastards? His protective reaction over the child had startled her, moreso than the volume or intensity behind the order. Her mouth opened as if to ask or protest, bringing forth the years-old agreement they made after their first instance like this. Though her brow had not unfurrowed in its confusion, she took a moment to swallow and steady herself, uncurling slowly from the defensive position now that his finger had removed itself from in front of her face.
"Very well," she replied, her voice devoid of any tone other than that of agreement, as if settling a contract over land disbursement. After all, that was a simple enough agreement, though it had it's further issues beyond it. With a breath she straightened her posture again, trying to recoup all the dignity that she had lost in these past moments.
Then, his words landed like a punch to the gut, the forearm across her stomach tightening to the point that a shot of pain from her wrist seemed to slice jagged up her arm.
At this point, every little bit of her existence was a pile of mild frustration and issues that had mounted now to become a cresting wave. From the nausea that had plagued her all morning, to the pointless churn of her stomach from taking the failed tonic, to the anxiety gripping her chest like a vice It all crashing down down, attempting to drown her with dread at his words.
It was her worst nightmare come to pass, the one that played in her mind the moment Nethis' tonic did not work and Thea committed to doing as her sister instructed. Just as she predicted, this would be her fate. Thea felt the color completely drain from her face at the finality of his words - of his ordered proposal.
His hand clamped around her upper arm, and Thea could not help the indignant sound she made at being manhandled in such a way. It was not that such force was a surprise to her - her knowledge of his brutish strength in intimate moments brought them here, after all - but crudeness of it all.
"Vangelis, please," Thea grunted, being tugged along against her will, the discomfort in her upper arm now coupling with the sharpness in her wrist, causing her to hiss and gasp at it a moment before finding her words, eyes trying to reach his but failing, "Listen, this is not meant to be. It cannot-" Thea stopped her words a moment, trying to wheel around to face him, despite the grating of his hands on her arm and trying to stop their movement towards the manor. Composed in her words and collected expression, but panicked behind her eyes, she tried another tactic to save herself - one last attempt, one that she hoped would land.
"What of Selene, Vangelis?" Thea stated forcefully, letting it linger a moment to see if she could find and use the one potential crack in the Stone Prince's veneer to undo this, or to reason with him - to get out of this herself. "What of her? She loves you..."
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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Thea was not a fearful or timid woman in the standard sense, but the sight of a clearly enraged man storming towards her - one who had already inflicted an unintentional injury to her wrist that she feared may begin to swell within the hour - resulted in a few sudden, backwards steps. This time, her hand reached down to pull the backs of her skirts away to keep from falling again. Damn this oversized gown!
It took all of her willpower to keep her feet from continuing to take steps away from him, her injured wrist now pressing against her bodice in a way that was partially to stabilize the joint, but unconsciously and unknowingly a protective movement over her abdomen. Even as she stopped, she did not face him directly, her left shoulder facing him and her right away as if to make herself smaller in a defensive pose, her head even curled down in a slight recoil, chin pointed down and away as if awaiting a blow that her mind told her would never come.
Instead, it was in response to the finger jutted in her face and the snap of his order, resulting in a flinch that she wished she could undo. Eyelids fluttered rapidly, breaking her usual unblinking gaze as she glanced about almost willing for someone else to see and stop this, knowing that wish would go unanswered. Not standing up against the Crown Prince. In this, she was on her own.
His order for her not to harm the child landed strangely in her gut, and it appeared across her face wrung itself into confusion. Had the agreement been to not have bastards? His protective reaction over the child had startled her, moreso than the volume or intensity behind the order. Her mouth opened as if to ask or protest, bringing forth the years-old agreement they made after their first instance like this. Though her brow had not unfurrowed in its confusion, she took a moment to swallow and steady herself, uncurling slowly from the defensive position now that his finger had removed itself from in front of her face.
"Very well," she replied, her voice devoid of any tone other than that of agreement, as if settling a contract over land disbursement. After all, that was a simple enough agreement, though it had it's further issues beyond it. With a breath she straightened her posture again, trying to recoup all the dignity that she had lost in these past moments.
Then, his words landed like a punch to the gut, the forearm across her stomach tightening to the point that a shot of pain from her wrist seemed to slice jagged up her arm.
At this point, every little bit of her existence was a pile of mild frustration and issues that had mounted now to become a cresting wave. From the nausea that had plagued her all morning, to the pointless churn of her stomach from taking the failed tonic, to the anxiety gripping her chest like a vice It all crashing down down, attempting to drown her with dread at his words.
It was her worst nightmare come to pass, the one that played in her mind the moment Nethis' tonic did not work and Thea committed to doing as her sister instructed. Just as she predicted, this would be her fate. Thea felt the color completely drain from her face at the finality of his words - of his ordered proposal.
His hand clamped around her upper arm, and Thea could not help the indignant sound she made at being manhandled in such a way. It was not that such force was a surprise to her - her knowledge of his brutish strength in intimate moments brought them here, after all - but crudeness of it all.
"Vangelis, please," Thea grunted, being tugged along against her will, the discomfort in her upper arm now coupling with the sharpness in her wrist, causing her to hiss and gasp at it a moment before finding her words, eyes trying to reach his but failing, "Listen, this is not meant to be. It cannot-" Thea stopped her words a moment, trying to wheel around to face him, despite the grating of his hands on her arm and trying to stop their movement towards the manor. Composed in her words and collected expression, but panicked behind her eyes, she tried another tactic to save herself - one last attempt, one that she hoped would land.
"What of Selene, Vangelis?" Thea stated forcefully, letting it linger a moment to see if she could find and use the one potential crack in the Stone Prince's veneer to undo this, or to reason with him - to get out of this herself. "What of her? She loves you..."
Thea was not a fearful or timid woman in the standard sense, but the sight of a clearly enraged man storming towards her - one who had already inflicted an unintentional injury to her wrist that she feared may begin to swell within the hour - resulted in a few sudden, backwards steps. This time, her hand reached down to pull the backs of her skirts away to keep from falling again. Damn this oversized gown!
It took all of her willpower to keep her feet from continuing to take steps away from him, her injured wrist now pressing against her bodice in a way that was partially to stabilize the joint, but unconsciously and unknowingly a protective movement over her abdomen. Even as she stopped, she did not face him directly, her left shoulder facing him and her right away as if to make herself smaller in a defensive pose, her head even curled down in a slight recoil, chin pointed down and away as if awaiting a blow that her mind told her would never come.
Instead, it was in response to the finger jutted in her face and the snap of his order, resulting in a flinch that she wished she could undo. Eyelids fluttered rapidly, breaking her usual unblinking gaze as she glanced about almost willing for someone else to see and stop this, knowing that wish would go unanswered. Not standing up against the Crown Prince. In this, she was on her own.
His order for her not to harm the child landed strangely in her gut, and it appeared across her face wrung itself into confusion. Had the agreement been to not have bastards? His protective reaction over the child had startled her, moreso than the volume or intensity behind the order. Her mouth opened as if to ask or protest, bringing forth the years-old agreement they made after their first instance like this. Though her brow had not unfurrowed in its confusion, she took a moment to swallow and steady herself, uncurling slowly from the defensive position now that his finger had removed itself from in front of her face.
"Very well," she replied, her voice devoid of any tone other than that of agreement, as if settling a contract over land disbursement. After all, that was a simple enough agreement, though it had it's further issues beyond it. With a breath she straightened her posture again, trying to recoup all the dignity that she had lost in these past moments.
Then, his words landed like a punch to the gut, the forearm across her stomach tightening to the point that a shot of pain from her wrist seemed to slice jagged up her arm.
At this point, every little bit of her existence was a pile of mild frustration and issues that had mounted now to become a cresting wave. From the nausea that had plagued her all morning, to the pointless churn of her stomach from taking the failed tonic, to the anxiety gripping her chest like a vice It all crashing down down, attempting to drown her with dread at his words.
It was her worst nightmare come to pass, the one that played in her mind the moment Nethis' tonic did not work and Thea committed to doing as her sister instructed. Just as she predicted, this would be her fate. Thea felt the color completely drain from her face at the finality of his words - of his ordered proposal.
His hand clamped around her upper arm, and Thea could not help the indignant sound she made at being manhandled in such a way. It was not that such force was a surprise to her - her knowledge of his brutish strength in intimate moments brought them here, after all - but crudeness of it all.
"Vangelis, please," Thea grunted, being tugged along against her will, the discomfort in her upper arm now coupling with the sharpness in her wrist, causing her to hiss and gasp at it a moment before finding her words, eyes trying to reach his but failing, "Listen, this is not meant to be. It cannot-" Thea stopped her words a moment, trying to wheel around to face him, despite the grating of his hands on her arm and trying to stop their movement towards the manor. Composed in her words and collected expression, but panicked behind her eyes, she tried another tactic to save herself - one last attempt, one that she hoped would land.
"What of Selene, Vangelis?" Thea stated forcefully, letting it linger a moment to see if she could find and use the one potential crack in the Stone Prince's veneer to undo this, or to reason with him - to get out of this herself. "What of her? She loves you..."
The smallest of qualms had settled in the back of Vangelis' mind as Thea's eyes flickered with panic. Somewhere in his head, he knew that he was hurting her. But any pain he applied to her arm or wrist came second in his priorities to ensuring her complete safety in an estate completely under his control. And if a mild irritation was necessary to achieve that, Vangelis would claim it. His natural propensity for efficiency overruled Thea's comfort.
As the woman he had touched with tenderness so many times before was now manhandled along the path that led them back towards the rear exit of her home, she protested in a voice that was almost breathless from his ministrations. Her words claimed the eventualities he had decided for the both of them to be wrong, to be 'not meant'. But his own voice cut into her protestations without mercy.
"It sounds to me as if you have attempted to prove that several times... but I believe that the Gods have chosen otherwise, Thea."
Yet, her next attempt to corral his determination succeeded at least in stilling his feet. His steps coming to a pause over the name 'Selene', it was as if his hesitation spurred Thea's enthusiasm for latching onto the excuse of reprieve.
'She loves you...'
The words panged around his head and somewhere in his chest but they were rejected fairly succinctly out of mind and hand. Selene had never said such words and he had never questioned them or mirrored them. Their arrangement was one of respect and care and affection... even desire, he had discovered since they had made the engagement a settled fact. But love had never been mentioned. Love needn't have ever been mentioned. For whilst it would have been nice to marry someone that he might have been able to give his heart to, he was a crown prince. And his choice of wife had to be for the good of the kingdom, not the good of himself.
And given she was pregnant with an heir to the throne... Thea had become what was good for the kingdom. More so than Selene.
"Know that I will correct the arrangement." He told her, not meeting her gaze as he only half looked back at her over his shoulder. Instead, his stare went into nothing, aimed at the ground behind them. It was as if he couldn't look another in the eye as he admitted what he would need to do to alter the promises between he and Selene. A heartbeat or two later and his gaze shot to hers once more, his fingers tightening their hold on her arm. "I will not discuss Selene with you."
"No move of your own volition or I will carry you again."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The smallest of qualms had settled in the back of Vangelis' mind as Thea's eyes flickered with panic. Somewhere in his head, he knew that he was hurting her. But any pain he applied to her arm or wrist came second in his priorities to ensuring her complete safety in an estate completely under his control. And if a mild irritation was necessary to achieve that, Vangelis would claim it. His natural propensity for efficiency overruled Thea's comfort.
As the woman he had touched with tenderness so many times before was now manhandled along the path that led them back towards the rear exit of her home, she protested in a voice that was almost breathless from his ministrations. Her words claimed the eventualities he had decided for the both of them to be wrong, to be 'not meant'. But his own voice cut into her protestations without mercy.
"It sounds to me as if you have attempted to prove that several times... but I believe that the Gods have chosen otherwise, Thea."
Yet, her next attempt to corral his determination succeeded at least in stilling his feet. His steps coming to a pause over the name 'Selene', it was as if his hesitation spurred Thea's enthusiasm for latching onto the excuse of reprieve.
'She loves you...'
The words panged around his head and somewhere in his chest but they were rejected fairly succinctly out of mind and hand. Selene had never said such words and he had never questioned them or mirrored them. Their arrangement was one of respect and care and affection... even desire, he had discovered since they had made the engagement a settled fact. But love had never been mentioned. Love needn't have ever been mentioned. For whilst it would have been nice to marry someone that he might have been able to give his heart to, he was a crown prince. And his choice of wife had to be for the good of the kingdom, not the good of himself.
And given she was pregnant with an heir to the throne... Thea had become what was good for the kingdom. More so than Selene.
"Know that I will correct the arrangement." He told her, not meeting her gaze as he only half looked back at her over his shoulder. Instead, his stare went into nothing, aimed at the ground behind them. It was as if he couldn't look another in the eye as he admitted what he would need to do to alter the promises between he and Selene. A heartbeat or two later and his gaze shot to hers once more, his fingers tightening their hold on her arm. "I will not discuss Selene with you."
"No move of your own volition or I will carry you again."
The smallest of qualms had settled in the back of Vangelis' mind as Thea's eyes flickered with panic. Somewhere in his head, he knew that he was hurting her. But any pain he applied to her arm or wrist came second in his priorities to ensuring her complete safety in an estate completely under his control. And if a mild irritation was necessary to achieve that, Vangelis would claim it. His natural propensity for efficiency overruled Thea's comfort.
As the woman he had touched with tenderness so many times before was now manhandled along the path that led them back towards the rear exit of her home, she protested in a voice that was almost breathless from his ministrations. Her words claimed the eventualities he had decided for the both of them to be wrong, to be 'not meant'. But his own voice cut into her protestations without mercy.
"It sounds to me as if you have attempted to prove that several times... but I believe that the Gods have chosen otherwise, Thea."
Yet, her next attempt to corral his determination succeeded at least in stilling his feet. His steps coming to a pause over the name 'Selene', it was as if his hesitation spurred Thea's enthusiasm for latching onto the excuse of reprieve.
'She loves you...'
The words panged around his head and somewhere in his chest but they were rejected fairly succinctly out of mind and hand. Selene had never said such words and he had never questioned them or mirrored them. Their arrangement was one of respect and care and affection... even desire, he had discovered since they had made the engagement a settled fact. But love had never been mentioned. Love needn't have ever been mentioned. For whilst it would have been nice to marry someone that he might have been able to give his heart to, he was a crown prince. And his choice of wife had to be for the good of the kingdom, not the good of himself.
And given she was pregnant with an heir to the throne... Thea had become what was good for the kingdom. More so than Selene.
"Know that I will correct the arrangement." He told her, not meeting her gaze as he only half looked back at her over his shoulder. Instead, his stare went into nothing, aimed at the ground behind them. It was as if he couldn't look another in the eye as he admitted what he would need to do to alter the promises between he and Selene. A heartbeat or two later and his gaze shot to hers once more, his fingers tightening their hold on her arm. "I will not discuss Selene with you."
"No move of your own volition or I will carry you again."