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As the light dusting glow of evening settled over Eubocris, the majority of folks had long since settled in for the night. Many were gathered around tables or tucked into beds, but not Timaeus. No, the military captain was still on the narrow roads of his home province, thundering along the rocky paths to make it back to the familiar gates of the Valaoritis estate so that he might be able to make it back home in time for the family meal -- even though he was already horrendously late. It wasn’t that uncommon to see Timaeus trod his way through the halls towards the dining room at such a late hour. In fact, his role as military captain practically required his tardiness to family functions such as this. Being a leader was no easy task and the unit needed his attention from dawn until dusk, sometimes even longer than that. Timaeus knew that most of the other men who held this position did not even bother returning to their own homes at night and instead carved out a private section of the barracks or a small corner of their headquarters as their personal chamber for sleeping and whatnot. That was what was expected from most Captains really and Tim might have gone down the same path. He even tried as much at first; but most other captains didn’t have the same problem that Timaeus had -- keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning whenever he was away from home with no good reason to be.
Guilt.
This ever gnawing feeling deep within his belly seemed to eat him alive whenever Timaeus wasn’t distracted with his duties. It crept in at the worst times, drawing his attention away from important talks going over the newest strategies to train his men and instead diverting it to what his last words to Amaxius would have been, had he been given the chance. The man may have been gone for two long years, but the twenty-two-year-old felt the loss just as keenly as the day he learned about his father’s passing on the docks of Midas. Timaeus hadn’t even known that the Baron had been sick, only arriving home when it was too late to sit at Amaxius’s bedside and keep their parting words not be some faded memories from when Timaeus was sixteen. Maybe that was why the second born was having such a difficult time moving on. He never got a proper chance to say goodbye.
Not to mention he had been thrust headfirst into his duties shortly after arriving home. Timaeus only had two short weeks to grieve before any issues that came with him being gone for four years and any possible inheritance issues that might have arisen from this were sorted, making Tim both Captain of the Men of the Heights and heir to his brother. The shock to his system of so quickly going from having carefree, lazy days at sea to running drills in the mountains of Eubocris had not been an easy one, but it was a job that had to be done and Tim was pretty good at that sort of thing. He hadn’t given himself the time to grieve as his brother had needed him to be strong as all of these taxing things were sorted, Then after that, he couldn’t let himself show any sort of weakness to the men who had initially doubted how this boy who had disappeared for four years could lead them. Timaeus had just never given himself a chance to process the death of his father properly. Nor had the young man given himself a chance to stop blaming himself for not being there when all of this happened. The fact that he had been gallivanting across the known world, happy as a lark as his father lay dying a slow and agonizing death was something that sickened him. It didn’t matter that there was no way for him to have known nor could he change the past, the guilt was still there. It was likely to always be there given how Timaeus would never get the closure he needed in order to move on.
That was why Timaeus went out of his way to always be home for dinner. He felt that it was his duty to his late father to make sure that he never made the same mistake again with the few family members that he had left. It didn’t matter how late it was when he finally sorted out the day’s tasks or that his boots were caked in mud from the field, leaving tracks throughout the house as he made his way to his familiar seat at his elder brother’s right-hand side. He always tried to be there, no matter what he had to do. It might drive his mother crazy, but it was certainly better than him not showing up at all, wasn’t it?
Tonight, per usual, Timaeus had been running a little late when he made his way through the foyer and towards the grand hall where the rest of his family was already likely digging into the meal, growing tired of waiting for their heir. True to his usual fashion, Tim didn’t bother wasting the time to clean the mud off of his sandals or strip himself of his weaponry as he made his way towards the dining room. Instead, he shed it as he went, the noise of shifting metal and leather echoing in the halls, announcing his presence long before he arrived. It wasn’t an unfamiliar noise, just like the annoyed grunt Periella gave when she saw that her middle child had not bothered to wipe his feet before entering the hall.
“Timaeus, how many times have I told you--” She started to say before the middle son solved the problem by just untieing the laces and shaking off the shoes for some other servant to take care off. Now barefoot in order to appease his mother in that rule-bending way that sons always seemed to have mastered from birth, Timaeus finished her chastising for her, “Not to track mud into the house. I know, I know. I’m sorry mother. I’ll remember next time.” He said with a hint of sincerity, but they all knew that Timaeus would forget next time as well. He always forgot.
Trodding over to his seat, Timaeus pulled it back as he nodded to each of his other family members in turn. With most of their cousins across the sea in some sort of fashion (or in a coma in Isidore’s case) the table was rather sparse with just his mother, his cousin Roxana, a small wisp of a girl who was quickly growing into a young lady, and his two brothers. Timaeus could see his brother Nicomedes smirking at the head of the table, pointedly looking at the spectacle that Timaeus had put on with an almost approving glint in his eyes. Even though his elder brother had always been the responsible one and the least likely to break any of the rules, he could appreciate a good twisting when it saw it. That was confirmed with his brief commentary on the matter, “Really, Tim?” His words might be a bit of admonishment, but that glint in his eyes made it clear that it really was anything but. That was the great thing about Nicomedes, he was so effortlessly good at knowing when to be harsh and when to let things go. Timaeus hadn’t yet to find that balance as he dealt with the unit, but he figured that was going to be accomplished in time.
Only offering a cheeky smile in response, Tim finally took his seat and immediately reached forward to pile up his plate with the various meats scattered around the table. After all, being a soldier was hard work and he needed a lot of protein in order to keep up with the task at hand. As he went about fixing himself a plate, the middle Valaoritis boy’s gaze landed on his little brother Silanos. His brother had been just a boy when Timaeus had left, but now at eighteen, he had quickly turned into a man… not that he really had anything to show for it. He wasn’t in the military unit and according to Nico, he didn’t have much of an interest in politics. It was really anyone’s guess on how the boy spent his days even though the two older brothers were eager to see their younger counterparts take up the family tradition of being a soldier. After all, that was the best way that Silanos was going to carve out a name for himself with Nicomedes now being the Baron and all. He would marry soon and shortly have heirs of his own, preventing his two younger brothers from inheriting the built-in job that came with nobility. Silanos would need something to fall back on when all those eventual miniature versions of their brother filled the halls once Nicomedes had a spare moment to find a suitable wife.
This was something that Timaeus tried to hint at as he addressed the youngest boy at the table. “Some of the newer recruits got their first armor fitting today. I’ll have a few hours in three days' time, Sil. We should go do the same for you…” Tim had learned long ago to not ask the boy pointed questions about when he was going to join the unit. Those normally ended in fights, but this roundabout method of questioning usually avoided that. Or at least it did for a bit. Tim truly wanted Sil to join the unit as he thought that his wayward younger brother might benefit from the structure and discipline from it. Not to mention it gave him something to do rather than just sitting around the manor all day. However, Tim knew better to try and force his brother’s hand as that would never work which was likely why Tim threw in a quick statement that covered his ass before digging into his plate piled high with delicious food, “Just in case you need it, of course.” He doubted that his brother would be fooled though. Surely he had to feel the pressure being put on him by both himself and Nicomedes who was quietly listening to the conversation occurring between his two younger brothers. Surely, he would have a thing or two to say about Sil’s future career path.
Besides the clear tensions simmering just beneath the surface, there was a certain calmness and serenity to the scene in front of everyone. As if the whole evening was perfect and the world was right for one night. It was something that wasn’t fully noticeable, but still entirely there. Had Timaeus recognized it, he might have committed it to memory. Done everything in his power to capture it and keep it from being ruined. However, no mortal can stop the ever-constant march of time. Nor can they escape their homecoming when the fates decide to end their string on the great tapestry of life. Everything might be perfect now, but little did this broken family know that the horrors they witnessed two years ago w coming to torment them again and not even the strongest among them was safe.
Death was coming for them and there was not a single thing that any of them could do to stop it.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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As the light dusting glow of evening settled over Eubocris, the majority of folks had long since settled in for the night. Many were gathered around tables or tucked into beds, but not Timaeus. No, the military captain was still on the narrow roads of his home province, thundering along the rocky paths to make it back to the familiar gates of the Valaoritis estate so that he might be able to make it back home in time for the family meal -- even though he was already horrendously late. It wasn’t that uncommon to see Timaeus trod his way through the halls towards the dining room at such a late hour. In fact, his role as military captain practically required his tardiness to family functions such as this. Being a leader was no easy task and the unit needed his attention from dawn until dusk, sometimes even longer than that. Timaeus knew that most of the other men who held this position did not even bother returning to their own homes at night and instead carved out a private section of the barracks or a small corner of their headquarters as their personal chamber for sleeping and whatnot. That was what was expected from most Captains really and Tim might have gone down the same path. He even tried as much at first; but most other captains didn’t have the same problem that Timaeus had -- keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning whenever he was away from home with no good reason to be.
Guilt.
This ever gnawing feeling deep within his belly seemed to eat him alive whenever Timaeus wasn’t distracted with his duties. It crept in at the worst times, drawing his attention away from important talks going over the newest strategies to train his men and instead diverting it to what his last words to Amaxius would have been, had he been given the chance. The man may have been gone for two long years, but the twenty-two-year-old felt the loss just as keenly as the day he learned about his father’s passing on the docks of Midas. Timaeus hadn’t even known that the Baron had been sick, only arriving home when it was too late to sit at Amaxius’s bedside and keep their parting words not be some faded memories from when Timaeus was sixteen. Maybe that was why the second born was having such a difficult time moving on. He never got a proper chance to say goodbye.
Not to mention he had been thrust headfirst into his duties shortly after arriving home. Timaeus only had two short weeks to grieve before any issues that came with him being gone for four years and any possible inheritance issues that might have arisen from this were sorted, making Tim both Captain of the Men of the Heights and heir to his brother. The shock to his system of so quickly going from having carefree, lazy days at sea to running drills in the mountains of Eubocris had not been an easy one, but it was a job that had to be done and Tim was pretty good at that sort of thing. He hadn’t given himself the time to grieve as his brother had needed him to be strong as all of these taxing things were sorted, Then after that, he couldn’t let himself show any sort of weakness to the men who had initially doubted how this boy who had disappeared for four years could lead them. Timaeus had just never given himself a chance to process the death of his father properly. Nor had the young man given himself a chance to stop blaming himself for not being there when all of this happened. The fact that he had been gallivanting across the known world, happy as a lark as his father lay dying a slow and agonizing death was something that sickened him. It didn’t matter that there was no way for him to have known nor could he change the past, the guilt was still there. It was likely to always be there given how Timaeus would never get the closure he needed in order to move on.
That was why Timaeus went out of his way to always be home for dinner. He felt that it was his duty to his late father to make sure that he never made the same mistake again with the few family members that he had left. It didn’t matter how late it was when he finally sorted out the day’s tasks or that his boots were caked in mud from the field, leaving tracks throughout the house as he made his way to his familiar seat at his elder brother’s right-hand side. He always tried to be there, no matter what he had to do. It might drive his mother crazy, but it was certainly better than him not showing up at all, wasn’t it?
Tonight, per usual, Timaeus had been running a little late when he made his way through the foyer and towards the grand hall where the rest of his family was already likely digging into the meal, growing tired of waiting for their heir. True to his usual fashion, Tim didn’t bother wasting the time to clean the mud off of his sandals or strip himself of his weaponry as he made his way towards the dining room. Instead, he shed it as he went, the noise of shifting metal and leather echoing in the halls, announcing his presence long before he arrived. It wasn’t an unfamiliar noise, just like the annoyed grunt Periella gave when she saw that her middle child had not bothered to wipe his feet before entering the hall.
“Timaeus, how many times have I told you--” She started to say before the middle son solved the problem by just untieing the laces and shaking off the shoes for some other servant to take care off. Now barefoot in order to appease his mother in that rule-bending way that sons always seemed to have mastered from birth, Timaeus finished her chastising for her, “Not to track mud into the house. I know, I know. I’m sorry mother. I’ll remember next time.” He said with a hint of sincerity, but they all knew that Timaeus would forget next time as well. He always forgot.
Trodding over to his seat, Timaeus pulled it back as he nodded to each of his other family members in turn. With most of their cousins across the sea in some sort of fashion (or in a coma in Isidore’s case) the table was rather sparse with just his mother, his cousin Roxana, a small wisp of a girl who was quickly growing into a young lady, and his two brothers. Timaeus could see his brother Nicomedes smirking at the head of the table, pointedly looking at the spectacle that Timaeus had put on with an almost approving glint in his eyes. Even though his elder brother had always been the responsible one and the least likely to break any of the rules, he could appreciate a good twisting when it saw it. That was confirmed with his brief commentary on the matter, “Really, Tim?” His words might be a bit of admonishment, but that glint in his eyes made it clear that it really was anything but. That was the great thing about Nicomedes, he was so effortlessly good at knowing when to be harsh and when to let things go. Timaeus hadn’t yet to find that balance as he dealt with the unit, but he figured that was going to be accomplished in time.
Only offering a cheeky smile in response, Tim finally took his seat and immediately reached forward to pile up his plate with the various meats scattered around the table. After all, being a soldier was hard work and he needed a lot of protein in order to keep up with the task at hand. As he went about fixing himself a plate, the middle Valaoritis boy’s gaze landed on his little brother Silanos. His brother had been just a boy when Timaeus had left, but now at eighteen, he had quickly turned into a man… not that he really had anything to show for it. He wasn’t in the military unit and according to Nico, he didn’t have much of an interest in politics. It was really anyone’s guess on how the boy spent his days even though the two older brothers were eager to see their younger counterparts take up the family tradition of being a soldier. After all, that was the best way that Silanos was going to carve out a name for himself with Nicomedes now being the Baron and all. He would marry soon and shortly have heirs of his own, preventing his two younger brothers from inheriting the built-in job that came with nobility. Silanos would need something to fall back on when all those eventual miniature versions of their brother filled the halls once Nicomedes had a spare moment to find a suitable wife.
This was something that Timaeus tried to hint at as he addressed the youngest boy at the table. “Some of the newer recruits got their first armor fitting today. I’ll have a few hours in three days' time, Sil. We should go do the same for you…” Tim had learned long ago to not ask the boy pointed questions about when he was going to join the unit. Those normally ended in fights, but this roundabout method of questioning usually avoided that. Or at least it did for a bit. Tim truly wanted Sil to join the unit as he thought that his wayward younger brother might benefit from the structure and discipline from it. Not to mention it gave him something to do rather than just sitting around the manor all day. However, Tim knew better to try and force his brother’s hand as that would never work which was likely why Tim threw in a quick statement that covered his ass before digging into his plate piled high with delicious food, “Just in case you need it, of course.” He doubted that his brother would be fooled though. Surely he had to feel the pressure being put on him by both himself and Nicomedes who was quietly listening to the conversation occurring between his two younger brothers. Surely, he would have a thing or two to say about Sil’s future career path.
Besides the clear tensions simmering just beneath the surface, there was a certain calmness and serenity to the scene in front of everyone. As if the whole evening was perfect and the world was right for one night. It was something that wasn’t fully noticeable, but still entirely there. Had Timaeus recognized it, he might have committed it to memory. Done everything in his power to capture it and keep it from being ruined. However, no mortal can stop the ever-constant march of time. Nor can they escape their homecoming when the fates decide to end their string on the great tapestry of life. Everything might be perfect now, but little did this broken family know that the horrors they witnessed two years ago w coming to torment them again and not even the strongest among them was safe.
Death was coming for them and there was not a single thing that any of them could do to stop it.
As the light dusting glow of evening settled over Eubocris, the majority of folks had long since settled in for the night. Many were gathered around tables or tucked into beds, but not Timaeus. No, the military captain was still on the narrow roads of his home province, thundering along the rocky paths to make it back to the familiar gates of the Valaoritis estate so that he might be able to make it back home in time for the family meal -- even though he was already horrendously late. It wasn’t that uncommon to see Timaeus trod his way through the halls towards the dining room at such a late hour. In fact, his role as military captain practically required his tardiness to family functions such as this. Being a leader was no easy task and the unit needed his attention from dawn until dusk, sometimes even longer than that. Timaeus knew that most of the other men who held this position did not even bother returning to their own homes at night and instead carved out a private section of the barracks or a small corner of their headquarters as their personal chamber for sleeping and whatnot. That was what was expected from most Captains really and Tim might have gone down the same path. He even tried as much at first; but most other captains didn’t have the same problem that Timaeus had -- keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning whenever he was away from home with no good reason to be.
Guilt.
This ever gnawing feeling deep within his belly seemed to eat him alive whenever Timaeus wasn’t distracted with his duties. It crept in at the worst times, drawing his attention away from important talks going over the newest strategies to train his men and instead diverting it to what his last words to Amaxius would have been, had he been given the chance. The man may have been gone for two long years, but the twenty-two-year-old felt the loss just as keenly as the day he learned about his father’s passing on the docks of Midas. Timaeus hadn’t even known that the Baron had been sick, only arriving home when it was too late to sit at Amaxius’s bedside and keep their parting words not be some faded memories from when Timaeus was sixteen. Maybe that was why the second born was having such a difficult time moving on. He never got a proper chance to say goodbye.
Not to mention he had been thrust headfirst into his duties shortly after arriving home. Timaeus only had two short weeks to grieve before any issues that came with him being gone for four years and any possible inheritance issues that might have arisen from this were sorted, making Tim both Captain of the Men of the Heights and heir to his brother. The shock to his system of so quickly going from having carefree, lazy days at sea to running drills in the mountains of Eubocris had not been an easy one, but it was a job that had to be done and Tim was pretty good at that sort of thing. He hadn’t given himself the time to grieve as his brother had needed him to be strong as all of these taxing things were sorted, Then after that, he couldn’t let himself show any sort of weakness to the men who had initially doubted how this boy who had disappeared for four years could lead them. Timaeus had just never given himself a chance to process the death of his father properly. Nor had the young man given himself a chance to stop blaming himself for not being there when all of this happened. The fact that he had been gallivanting across the known world, happy as a lark as his father lay dying a slow and agonizing death was something that sickened him. It didn’t matter that there was no way for him to have known nor could he change the past, the guilt was still there. It was likely to always be there given how Timaeus would never get the closure he needed in order to move on.
That was why Timaeus went out of his way to always be home for dinner. He felt that it was his duty to his late father to make sure that he never made the same mistake again with the few family members that he had left. It didn’t matter how late it was when he finally sorted out the day’s tasks or that his boots were caked in mud from the field, leaving tracks throughout the house as he made his way to his familiar seat at his elder brother’s right-hand side. He always tried to be there, no matter what he had to do. It might drive his mother crazy, but it was certainly better than him not showing up at all, wasn’t it?
Tonight, per usual, Timaeus had been running a little late when he made his way through the foyer and towards the grand hall where the rest of his family was already likely digging into the meal, growing tired of waiting for their heir. True to his usual fashion, Tim didn’t bother wasting the time to clean the mud off of his sandals or strip himself of his weaponry as he made his way towards the dining room. Instead, he shed it as he went, the noise of shifting metal and leather echoing in the halls, announcing his presence long before he arrived. It wasn’t an unfamiliar noise, just like the annoyed grunt Periella gave when she saw that her middle child had not bothered to wipe his feet before entering the hall.
“Timaeus, how many times have I told you--” She started to say before the middle son solved the problem by just untieing the laces and shaking off the shoes for some other servant to take care off. Now barefoot in order to appease his mother in that rule-bending way that sons always seemed to have mastered from birth, Timaeus finished her chastising for her, “Not to track mud into the house. I know, I know. I’m sorry mother. I’ll remember next time.” He said with a hint of sincerity, but they all knew that Timaeus would forget next time as well. He always forgot.
Trodding over to his seat, Timaeus pulled it back as he nodded to each of his other family members in turn. With most of their cousins across the sea in some sort of fashion (or in a coma in Isidore’s case) the table was rather sparse with just his mother, his cousin Roxana, a small wisp of a girl who was quickly growing into a young lady, and his two brothers. Timaeus could see his brother Nicomedes smirking at the head of the table, pointedly looking at the spectacle that Timaeus had put on with an almost approving glint in his eyes. Even though his elder brother had always been the responsible one and the least likely to break any of the rules, he could appreciate a good twisting when it saw it. That was confirmed with his brief commentary on the matter, “Really, Tim?” His words might be a bit of admonishment, but that glint in his eyes made it clear that it really was anything but. That was the great thing about Nicomedes, he was so effortlessly good at knowing when to be harsh and when to let things go. Timaeus hadn’t yet to find that balance as he dealt with the unit, but he figured that was going to be accomplished in time.
Only offering a cheeky smile in response, Tim finally took his seat and immediately reached forward to pile up his plate with the various meats scattered around the table. After all, being a soldier was hard work and he needed a lot of protein in order to keep up with the task at hand. As he went about fixing himself a plate, the middle Valaoritis boy’s gaze landed on his little brother Silanos. His brother had been just a boy when Timaeus had left, but now at eighteen, he had quickly turned into a man… not that he really had anything to show for it. He wasn’t in the military unit and according to Nico, he didn’t have much of an interest in politics. It was really anyone’s guess on how the boy spent his days even though the two older brothers were eager to see their younger counterparts take up the family tradition of being a soldier. After all, that was the best way that Silanos was going to carve out a name for himself with Nicomedes now being the Baron and all. He would marry soon and shortly have heirs of his own, preventing his two younger brothers from inheriting the built-in job that came with nobility. Silanos would need something to fall back on when all those eventual miniature versions of their brother filled the halls once Nicomedes had a spare moment to find a suitable wife.
This was something that Timaeus tried to hint at as he addressed the youngest boy at the table. “Some of the newer recruits got their first armor fitting today. I’ll have a few hours in three days' time, Sil. We should go do the same for you…” Tim had learned long ago to not ask the boy pointed questions about when he was going to join the unit. Those normally ended in fights, but this roundabout method of questioning usually avoided that. Or at least it did for a bit. Tim truly wanted Sil to join the unit as he thought that his wayward younger brother might benefit from the structure and discipline from it. Not to mention it gave him something to do rather than just sitting around the manor all day. However, Tim knew better to try and force his brother’s hand as that would never work which was likely why Tim threw in a quick statement that covered his ass before digging into his plate piled high with delicious food, “Just in case you need it, of course.” He doubted that his brother would be fooled though. Surely he had to feel the pressure being put on him by both himself and Nicomedes who was quietly listening to the conversation occurring between his two younger brothers. Surely, he would have a thing or two to say about Sil’s future career path.
Besides the clear tensions simmering just beneath the surface, there was a certain calmness and serenity to the scene in front of everyone. As if the whole evening was perfect and the world was right for one night. It was something that wasn’t fully noticeable, but still entirely there. Had Timaeus recognized it, he might have committed it to memory. Done everything in his power to capture it and keep it from being ruined. However, no mortal can stop the ever-constant march of time. Nor can they escape their homecoming when the fates decide to end their string on the great tapestry of life. Everything might be perfect now, but little did this broken family know that the horrors they witnessed two years ago w coming to torment them again and not even the strongest among them was safe.
Death was coming for them and there was not a single thing that any of them could do to stop it.
These dinners were soon becoming a tedious affair. Sil was there for them about as often as he wasn't because really, there were more entertaining things to do than sit around and listen to his Mother prattle on about her day or dodge questions about what he'd been up to. He didn't cry off them all...he knew it meant something to his mother to have the family all together and so he'd make the effort to appease her and avoid the judgemental looks from Nico when he didn't , but honestly they were a little dull.
Timaeus was always late, which meant the whole occasion dragged on longer than it needed to, and honestly, what eighteen year old wanted to spend every evening sat with their family? He'd already half-cleared his plate when his middle brother came stomping in dragging mud with him, and Silanos didn't bother to hide the snort of a laugh when his sibling stepped out of his boots in the doorway.
He buried his smirk in his cup of wine before his mother or Nico could comment on it, returned Tim's nod with one of his own and then continued his conversation with Roxana about the upcoming midsummer's festival. He'd half-wanted to go stag, but she wanted an escort, and so he'd begrudgingly agreed because Roxana at least knew how to have some fun, and it wasn't really fair for her to be stuck at home.
'Some of the newer recruits got their first armor fitting today. I'll have a few hours in three days' time, Sil. We should go do the same for you…'
Turning from the girl when Timaeus addressed him, it was all Sil could do not to roll his eyes at the question. "Mmhm," he said non-committedly, deliberately not looking at Nico but considering kicking Tim under the table as he leaned over and forked up another slice of lamb. Dropping it onto his plate, Silanos cut it a little more viciously than the tender meat required. He didn't want to join the unit, had no desire to be a soldier, and he wished they'd stop with these poorly veiled 'encouragements'.
In truth, he wasn't sure what he did want to do but was coming around to the idea that it wasn't something here. It was all well and good for Tim, he'd just fucked off four years, but Sil had barely been outside Colchis and recently especially, the craggy walls of the gorge had felt like a prison rather than a home. Since their father had died, he'd spent more time in Midas where there were distractions aplenty. He had friends enough that he could find somewhere to crash for a day or two, and for the most part, Nico was too busy to harangue him about it. Timaeus was not apparently.
'Just in case you need it, of course.'
"Right, sure, maybe." he replied, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice before he changed the subject "Hey Roxana, you know that Larichlles will be there Sunday don't you? That why you're so keen on going?"
He was not going to let his brothers gang up on him about this over dinner, and sure enough, Roxana's indignant face and protest was enough to see conversation shift. Periella lifted an eyebrow over talk of the boy from the village who'd been sweet on Roxana forever and Sil sat back, quietly pleased with the diversion and let that little conversation run its course.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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These dinners were soon becoming a tedious affair. Sil was there for them about as often as he wasn't because really, there were more entertaining things to do than sit around and listen to his Mother prattle on about her day or dodge questions about what he'd been up to. He didn't cry off them all...he knew it meant something to his mother to have the family all together and so he'd make the effort to appease her and avoid the judgemental looks from Nico when he didn't , but honestly they were a little dull.
Timaeus was always late, which meant the whole occasion dragged on longer than it needed to, and honestly, what eighteen year old wanted to spend every evening sat with their family? He'd already half-cleared his plate when his middle brother came stomping in dragging mud with him, and Silanos didn't bother to hide the snort of a laugh when his sibling stepped out of his boots in the doorway.
He buried his smirk in his cup of wine before his mother or Nico could comment on it, returned Tim's nod with one of his own and then continued his conversation with Roxana about the upcoming midsummer's festival. He'd half-wanted to go stag, but she wanted an escort, and so he'd begrudgingly agreed because Roxana at least knew how to have some fun, and it wasn't really fair for her to be stuck at home.
'Some of the newer recruits got their first armor fitting today. I'll have a few hours in three days' time, Sil. We should go do the same for you…'
Turning from the girl when Timaeus addressed him, it was all Sil could do not to roll his eyes at the question. "Mmhm," he said non-committedly, deliberately not looking at Nico but considering kicking Tim under the table as he leaned over and forked up another slice of lamb. Dropping it onto his plate, Silanos cut it a little more viciously than the tender meat required. He didn't want to join the unit, had no desire to be a soldier, and he wished they'd stop with these poorly veiled 'encouragements'.
In truth, he wasn't sure what he did want to do but was coming around to the idea that it wasn't something here. It was all well and good for Tim, he'd just fucked off four years, but Sil had barely been outside Colchis and recently especially, the craggy walls of the gorge had felt like a prison rather than a home. Since their father had died, he'd spent more time in Midas where there were distractions aplenty. He had friends enough that he could find somewhere to crash for a day or two, and for the most part, Nico was too busy to harangue him about it. Timaeus was not apparently.
'Just in case you need it, of course.'
"Right, sure, maybe." he replied, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice before he changed the subject "Hey Roxana, you know that Larichlles will be there Sunday don't you? That why you're so keen on going?"
He was not going to let his brothers gang up on him about this over dinner, and sure enough, Roxana's indignant face and protest was enough to see conversation shift. Periella lifted an eyebrow over talk of the boy from the village who'd been sweet on Roxana forever and Sil sat back, quietly pleased with the diversion and let that little conversation run its course.
These dinners were soon becoming a tedious affair. Sil was there for them about as often as he wasn't because really, there were more entertaining things to do than sit around and listen to his Mother prattle on about her day or dodge questions about what he'd been up to. He didn't cry off them all...he knew it meant something to his mother to have the family all together and so he'd make the effort to appease her and avoid the judgemental looks from Nico when he didn't , but honestly they were a little dull.
Timaeus was always late, which meant the whole occasion dragged on longer than it needed to, and honestly, what eighteen year old wanted to spend every evening sat with their family? He'd already half-cleared his plate when his middle brother came stomping in dragging mud with him, and Silanos didn't bother to hide the snort of a laugh when his sibling stepped out of his boots in the doorway.
He buried his smirk in his cup of wine before his mother or Nico could comment on it, returned Tim's nod with one of his own and then continued his conversation with Roxana about the upcoming midsummer's festival. He'd half-wanted to go stag, but she wanted an escort, and so he'd begrudgingly agreed because Roxana at least knew how to have some fun, and it wasn't really fair for her to be stuck at home.
'Some of the newer recruits got their first armor fitting today. I'll have a few hours in three days' time, Sil. We should go do the same for you…'
Turning from the girl when Timaeus addressed him, it was all Sil could do not to roll his eyes at the question. "Mmhm," he said non-committedly, deliberately not looking at Nico but considering kicking Tim under the table as he leaned over and forked up another slice of lamb. Dropping it onto his plate, Silanos cut it a little more viciously than the tender meat required. He didn't want to join the unit, had no desire to be a soldier, and he wished they'd stop with these poorly veiled 'encouragements'.
In truth, he wasn't sure what he did want to do but was coming around to the idea that it wasn't something here. It was all well and good for Tim, he'd just fucked off four years, but Sil had barely been outside Colchis and recently especially, the craggy walls of the gorge had felt like a prison rather than a home. Since their father had died, he'd spent more time in Midas where there were distractions aplenty. He had friends enough that he could find somewhere to crash for a day or two, and for the most part, Nico was too busy to harangue him about it. Timaeus was not apparently.
'Just in case you need it, of course.'
"Right, sure, maybe." he replied, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice before he changed the subject "Hey Roxana, you know that Larichlles will be there Sunday don't you? That why you're so keen on going?"
He was not going to let his brothers gang up on him about this over dinner, and sure enough, Roxana's indignant face and protest was enough to see conversation shift. Periella lifted an eyebrow over talk of the boy from the village who'd been sweet on Roxana forever and Sil sat back, quietly pleased with the diversion and let that little conversation run its course.
Given his own past, Timaeus knew that he could not judge his brother too harshly on his proclivity to disappear for hours at a time. After all, had he not disappeared for four years and only sent the occasional letter home to let his family know that he was still alive? Truly, whatever Sil was doing in his free time paled in comparison to that. However, at the same time, he also had to admit that his own misdeeds were entirely different from whatever Silanos was getting up to when he disappeared from the family’s sight. As wrong as his own actions were, Timaeus was entirely prepared to spend his life away from the Valaoritis name. He would have been perfectly content to be a sailor and serve as Adrestus’s righthand man as the Athenian secured trading deals for his own family in Athenia. It wouldn’t have been the most illustrious career in the Greecian realm that was a given, but at least it was one that Timaeus could live off and enjoy doing at the same time. That was all that really mattered wasn’t it? The middle son could have been just fine if everything hit the ceiling and the mud that he had tracked into the dining room was suddenly worth more than the Valaoritis name.
But could Silanos say the same?
No one in the family knew what the youngest brother was doing half the time. He disappeared from the manor at the oddest hours and then later refused to answer reasonable questions about where he had been. If that wasn’t worrisome enough, it seemed to be that gold fell out of his pockets at a rapid rate. Although this was a type of behavior that could be expected from a noble lord, it worried Timaeus quite a bit. After all, what if Silanos ran into trouble? None of the Valaoritis would be any the wiser as he kept the details about his locations such a closely guarded secret. Plus, not to mention there was a slight concern that Silanos might be outspending his gold supply. This wasn’t that Timaeus could really blame his brother for and had since dropped it after Nico dismissed his concerns -- but the middle son knew that money did not grow from trees, but kids who grew up as they did certainly thought that it did. Timaeus himself had been incredibly guilty of this prior to gallivanting around the world. However, he had been harshly introduced to the art of budgeting thanks to his limited coin supply. Tim doubted that his brother had these sorts of skills. Or any skills really, given how Silanos refused to go learn how to fight.
Maybe Timaeus wouldn’t be so worried if Silanos had something that he could eventually fall back on. The boy might be in the lap of luxury now as a Baron’s brother, but what was going to happen when Nico was old and gray with grandkids of his own? Surely, Sil could not be expecting to leech off of the family treasury forever. That was why Timaeus pushed so hard for Sil to at least sign-up and learn how to be a foot soldier in the unit that this family prided themselves on. It didn’t matter if it would be miserable work and Silanos would hate every second of it. The basic training would be needed for his brother to at least have some sort of skillset to fall back upon. If fighting wasn’t for him, maybe the two older brothers could pull some strings and have him be installed as a steward to the Master of War, if that was truly was what the boy wanted. Just as long as it was something because Tim knew that his brother would not fare well without that Valaoritis name propping him up.
That was likely why Tim grew visibly annoyed when Silanos brushed past his suggestion to have the boy fitted for armor. It seemed that this entire family was made of poor deceivers as he did not trick Timaeus for a second with the discussion about that boy who seemed to like Roxana. He could see that the change in topic was a clear ploy to get Tim to shut up about the military unit. It wasn’t that difficult of a thing to see, yet it still worked for a few moments.
Although his expression was drawn tight, making it clear that Timaeus was going to return to the previous topic at hand, his eyes still glanced over at the beet-red face of the younger cousin he also viewed as a sister. Perhaps it was the natural protective instinct in Tim or maybe just the fact that he knew all too well how boys chasing after another girl’s skirts was just looking for trouble -- but he now had a vested interest in how Roxana reacted to hearing that this boy who was sweet on her would also be at whatever festival Silanos was taking her too. He couldn’t remember the name of it -- but he knew when it would be as it had already been the subject of other dinner conversations. However, Roxana’s insistence on going was put into a new light as she did a poor job of countering Sil’s question.
Timaeus laughed at the state of his poor embarrassed cousin, glancing over at Nico to see what he thought of Roxana stuttering her way through a defense about definitely not wanting to go to a festival just to see a boy. However, the joy died momentarily on his lips when he noticed that Nikos was not paying attention to the conversation at all. This was something that he should have noticed earlier as his brother’s laugh was known to fill the room at certain times. Having him be silent at a moment like this was deeply unnerving. A cold chill practically ran up Tim’s spine as he took note of the way Nico held a hand to his chest and continuously tried to clear his throat. At first, Timaeus thought that his brother was choking, but a quick glance down at both his brother’s barely touched plate and the pale color of his face made it clear that this was not the case. Clearly, though something was wrong.
The mere realization that something was amiss was enough to have Timaeus tune out the idle chatter at the end of the table and focus solely on Nico. With an eyebrow raised, he got his brother’s attention with a simple muttered, “You alright?” Tim was hoping to not draw too much attention to his brother and bring a needless worry to Periella. They all knew she was in a somewhat fragile state after the death of Amaxius and now worried excessively over any slight ailment in her children. Which Timaeus supposed was understandable. He had not been here to witness it, but he knew that Amaxius had suffered from a long, drawn-out illness that had caused him to grow weak and frail. The fear of such a thing recurring was not strong in Timaeus, but it was in others and it was best to let brief moments like this just be swept under the rug.
If this was something that would pass in a brief moment.
Nicomedes seemed to think it would. The Baron pushed aside his brother’s concerns with a small wave of the hand and his grimace twisting into something that was supposed to represent vague reassurance. However, he wasn’t a very convincing actor. Tim could see how his brother winced as he moved and how Nico had not said anything in response to his question. Clearly, something was wrong. Nodded slowly in assent, but not quite believing that his brother was truly okay, Tim was about to press him on the matter when a shrill voice from the other end of the table pulled him out of his thoughts and back into the nonsense that Silanos has started.
“Well, I mean I don’t see how me being friends with Larichlles is no different than Tim and Maleos!” Roxana countered, probably in some remark about how maybe the young girl shouldn’t be hanging out with other young men. Timaeus was forced to roll his eyes at this, completely unsure of his fifteen-year-old sister could not see how his own camaraderie with Lietenuant Maleos was nowhere near the same level of concern as it was to see Roxana with a boy. It was an entirely different dynamic as Tim and his friend might have been just as thick as thieves, but they didn’t have to worry about what might happen if a chaperone was not present.
“Well, I mean for starters mother is not worried about me kissing him like we are about you and Larichlles being alone.” He chimed back with a teasing grin, knowing full well that it would make his already embarrassed cousin even more flustered than she already was. Poor girl. If the sight of Roxana being so defensive wasn’t so amusing, Timaeus might honestly feel bad about poking fun at what could be Roxana’s crush. Gods only knew what he would do if he were in her shoes, after all.
Luckily for her though, distracting Timaeus from Nicomedes left room for the Military Captain to refocus the conversation towards back what he wanted to discuss; Silanos’s inevitable recruitment. “But anyway, we’ll plan for Saturday then? I can meet you at the blacksmith.” He pointedly said as he looked to his younger brother, not giving him much room to dodge the question like he had tried to do so before. Timaeus was deadset, after all in seeing his brother enlist, and given that their Colchian blood made them a rather forceful bunch, it was highly unlikely that Timaeus was not going to get his way eventually. Silanos couldn’t avoid what was the crux of their bloodline and family legacy forever, after all.
“If we go early enough, maybe we could even find the time to bring Roxana down to the market to find some jewelry or something for the festival?” He finished, glancing at his cousin. Tim had his hopes that roping Roxana in would force Sil’s hand and make him less inclined to claim that he already had previous plans for Saturday. Perhaps the boy genuinely did, but it was unlikely that those plans really mattered anyway. Silanos could just reschedule those and suck up the fact that he was going to be fitted for armor, by hell or high water.
Though it seemed to be that maybe the gods were the younger boy’s side today as even though Timaeus was certain that there was nothing that could disrupt this newly laid plan to get Silanos to do something with his life, it was unlikely to happen. Not as Nicomedes continued to grow paler and paler at the head of the table, trying to act as if nothing was wrong so that he might not rightfully worry the rest of his family…
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Given his own past, Timaeus knew that he could not judge his brother too harshly on his proclivity to disappear for hours at a time. After all, had he not disappeared for four years and only sent the occasional letter home to let his family know that he was still alive? Truly, whatever Sil was doing in his free time paled in comparison to that. However, at the same time, he also had to admit that his own misdeeds were entirely different from whatever Silanos was getting up to when he disappeared from the family’s sight. As wrong as his own actions were, Timaeus was entirely prepared to spend his life away from the Valaoritis name. He would have been perfectly content to be a sailor and serve as Adrestus’s righthand man as the Athenian secured trading deals for his own family in Athenia. It wouldn’t have been the most illustrious career in the Greecian realm that was a given, but at least it was one that Timaeus could live off and enjoy doing at the same time. That was all that really mattered wasn’t it? The middle son could have been just fine if everything hit the ceiling and the mud that he had tracked into the dining room was suddenly worth more than the Valaoritis name.
But could Silanos say the same?
No one in the family knew what the youngest brother was doing half the time. He disappeared from the manor at the oddest hours and then later refused to answer reasonable questions about where he had been. If that wasn’t worrisome enough, it seemed to be that gold fell out of his pockets at a rapid rate. Although this was a type of behavior that could be expected from a noble lord, it worried Timaeus quite a bit. After all, what if Silanos ran into trouble? None of the Valaoritis would be any the wiser as he kept the details about his locations such a closely guarded secret. Plus, not to mention there was a slight concern that Silanos might be outspending his gold supply. This wasn’t that Timaeus could really blame his brother for and had since dropped it after Nico dismissed his concerns -- but the middle son knew that money did not grow from trees, but kids who grew up as they did certainly thought that it did. Timaeus himself had been incredibly guilty of this prior to gallivanting around the world. However, he had been harshly introduced to the art of budgeting thanks to his limited coin supply. Tim doubted that his brother had these sorts of skills. Or any skills really, given how Silanos refused to go learn how to fight.
Maybe Timaeus wouldn’t be so worried if Silanos had something that he could eventually fall back on. The boy might be in the lap of luxury now as a Baron’s brother, but what was going to happen when Nico was old and gray with grandkids of his own? Surely, Sil could not be expecting to leech off of the family treasury forever. That was why Timaeus pushed so hard for Sil to at least sign-up and learn how to be a foot soldier in the unit that this family prided themselves on. It didn’t matter if it would be miserable work and Silanos would hate every second of it. The basic training would be needed for his brother to at least have some sort of skillset to fall back upon. If fighting wasn’t for him, maybe the two older brothers could pull some strings and have him be installed as a steward to the Master of War, if that was truly was what the boy wanted. Just as long as it was something because Tim knew that his brother would not fare well without that Valaoritis name propping him up.
That was likely why Tim grew visibly annoyed when Silanos brushed past his suggestion to have the boy fitted for armor. It seemed that this entire family was made of poor deceivers as he did not trick Timaeus for a second with the discussion about that boy who seemed to like Roxana. He could see that the change in topic was a clear ploy to get Tim to shut up about the military unit. It wasn’t that difficult of a thing to see, yet it still worked for a few moments.
Although his expression was drawn tight, making it clear that Timaeus was going to return to the previous topic at hand, his eyes still glanced over at the beet-red face of the younger cousin he also viewed as a sister. Perhaps it was the natural protective instinct in Tim or maybe just the fact that he knew all too well how boys chasing after another girl’s skirts was just looking for trouble -- but he now had a vested interest in how Roxana reacted to hearing that this boy who was sweet on her would also be at whatever festival Silanos was taking her too. He couldn’t remember the name of it -- but he knew when it would be as it had already been the subject of other dinner conversations. However, Roxana’s insistence on going was put into a new light as she did a poor job of countering Sil’s question.
Timaeus laughed at the state of his poor embarrassed cousin, glancing over at Nico to see what he thought of Roxana stuttering her way through a defense about definitely not wanting to go to a festival just to see a boy. However, the joy died momentarily on his lips when he noticed that Nikos was not paying attention to the conversation at all. This was something that he should have noticed earlier as his brother’s laugh was known to fill the room at certain times. Having him be silent at a moment like this was deeply unnerving. A cold chill practically ran up Tim’s spine as he took note of the way Nico held a hand to his chest and continuously tried to clear his throat. At first, Timaeus thought that his brother was choking, but a quick glance down at both his brother’s barely touched plate and the pale color of his face made it clear that this was not the case. Clearly, though something was wrong.
The mere realization that something was amiss was enough to have Timaeus tune out the idle chatter at the end of the table and focus solely on Nico. With an eyebrow raised, he got his brother’s attention with a simple muttered, “You alright?” Tim was hoping to not draw too much attention to his brother and bring a needless worry to Periella. They all knew she was in a somewhat fragile state after the death of Amaxius and now worried excessively over any slight ailment in her children. Which Timaeus supposed was understandable. He had not been here to witness it, but he knew that Amaxius had suffered from a long, drawn-out illness that had caused him to grow weak and frail. The fear of such a thing recurring was not strong in Timaeus, but it was in others and it was best to let brief moments like this just be swept under the rug.
If this was something that would pass in a brief moment.
Nicomedes seemed to think it would. The Baron pushed aside his brother’s concerns with a small wave of the hand and his grimace twisting into something that was supposed to represent vague reassurance. However, he wasn’t a very convincing actor. Tim could see how his brother winced as he moved and how Nico had not said anything in response to his question. Clearly, something was wrong. Nodded slowly in assent, but not quite believing that his brother was truly okay, Tim was about to press him on the matter when a shrill voice from the other end of the table pulled him out of his thoughts and back into the nonsense that Silanos has started.
“Well, I mean I don’t see how me being friends with Larichlles is no different than Tim and Maleos!” Roxana countered, probably in some remark about how maybe the young girl shouldn’t be hanging out with other young men. Timaeus was forced to roll his eyes at this, completely unsure of his fifteen-year-old sister could not see how his own camaraderie with Lietenuant Maleos was nowhere near the same level of concern as it was to see Roxana with a boy. It was an entirely different dynamic as Tim and his friend might have been just as thick as thieves, but they didn’t have to worry about what might happen if a chaperone was not present.
“Well, I mean for starters mother is not worried about me kissing him like we are about you and Larichlles being alone.” He chimed back with a teasing grin, knowing full well that it would make his already embarrassed cousin even more flustered than she already was. Poor girl. If the sight of Roxana being so defensive wasn’t so amusing, Timaeus might honestly feel bad about poking fun at what could be Roxana’s crush. Gods only knew what he would do if he were in her shoes, after all.
Luckily for her though, distracting Timaeus from Nicomedes left room for the Military Captain to refocus the conversation towards back what he wanted to discuss; Silanos’s inevitable recruitment. “But anyway, we’ll plan for Saturday then? I can meet you at the blacksmith.” He pointedly said as he looked to his younger brother, not giving him much room to dodge the question like he had tried to do so before. Timaeus was deadset, after all in seeing his brother enlist, and given that their Colchian blood made them a rather forceful bunch, it was highly unlikely that Timaeus was not going to get his way eventually. Silanos couldn’t avoid what was the crux of their bloodline and family legacy forever, after all.
“If we go early enough, maybe we could even find the time to bring Roxana down to the market to find some jewelry or something for the festival?” He finished, glancing at his cousin. Tim had his hopes that roping Roxana in would force Sil’s hand and make him less inclined to claim that he already had previous plans for Saturday. Perhaps the boy genuinely did, but it was unlikely that those plans really mattered anyway. Silanos could just reschedule those and suck up the fact that he was going to be fitted for armor, by hell or high water.
Though it seemed to be that maybe the gods were the younger boy’s side today as even though Timaeus was certain that there was nothing that could disrupt this newly laid plan to get Silanos to do something with his life, it was unlikely to happen. Not as Nicomedes continued to grow paler and paler at the head of the table, trying to act as if nothing was wrong so that he might not rightfully worry the rest of his family…
Given his own past, Timaeus knew that he could not judge his brother too harshly on his proclivity to disappear for hours at a time. After all, had he not disappeared for four years and only sent the occasional letter home to let his family know that he was still alive? Truly, whatever Sil was doing in his free time paled in comparison to that. However, at the same time, he also had to admit that his own misdeeds were entirely different from whatever Silanos was getting up to when he disappeared from the family’s sight. As wrong as his own actions were, Timaeus was entirely prepared to spend his life away from the Valaoritis name. He would have been perfectly content to be a sailor and serve as Adrestus’s righthand man as the Athenian secured trading deals for his own family in Athenia. It wouldn’t have been the most illustrious career in the Greecian realm that was a given, but at least it was one that Timaeus could live off and enjoy doing at the same time. That was all that really mattered wasn’t it? The middle son could have been just fine if everything hit the ceiling and the mud that he had tracked into the dining room was suddenly worth more than the Valaoritis name.
But could Silanos say the same?
No one in the family knew what the youngest brother was doing half the time. He disappeared from the manor at the oddest hours and then later refused to answer reasonable questions about where he had been. If that wasn’t worrisome enough, it seemed to be that gold fell out of his pockets at a rapid rate. Although this was a type of behavior that could be expected from a noble lord, it worried Timaeus quite a bit. After all, what if Silanos ran into trouble? None of the Valaoritis would be any the wiser as he kept the details about his locations such a closely guarded secret. Plus, not to mention there was a slight concern that Silanos might be outspending his gold supply. This wasn’t that Timaeus could really blame his brother for and had since dropped it after Nico dismissed his concerns -- but the middle son knew that money did not grow from trees, but kids who grew up as they did certainly thought that it did. Timaeus himself had been incredibly guilty of this prior to gallivanting around the world. However, he had been harshly introduced to the art of budgeting thanks to his limited coin supply. Tim doubted that his brother had these sorts of skills. Or any skills really, given how Silanos refused to go learn how to fight.
Maybe Timaeus wouldn’t be so worried if Silanos had something that he could eventually fall back on. The boy might be in the lap of luxury now as a Baron’s brother, but what was going to happen when Nico was old and gray with grandkids of his own? Surely, Sil could not be expecting to leech off of the family treasury forever. That was why Timaeus pushed so hard for Sil to at least sign-up and learn how to be a foot soldier in the unit that this family prided themselves on. It didn’t matter if it would be miserable work and Silanos would hate every second of it. The basic training would be needed for his brother to at least have some sort of skillset to fall back upon. If fighting wasn’t for him, maybe the two older brothers could pull some strings and have him be installed as a steward to the Master of War, if that was truly was what the boy wanted. Just as long as it was something because Tim knew that his brother would not fare well without that Valaoritis name propping him up.
That was likely why Tim grew visibly annoyed when Silanos brushed past his suggestion to have the boy fitted for armor. It seemed that this entire family was made of poor deceivers as he did not trick Timaeus for a second with the discussion about that boy who seemed to like Roxana. He could see that the change in topic was a clear ploy to get Tim to shut up about the military unit. It wasn’t that difficult of a thing to see, yet it still worked for a few moments.
Although his expression was drawn tight, making it clear that Timaeus was going to return to the previous topic at hand, his eyes still glanced over at the beet-red face of the younger cousin he also viewed as a sister. Perhaps it was the natural protective instinct in Tim or maybe just the fact that he knew all too well how boys chasing after another girl’s skirts was just looking for trouble -- but he now had a vested interest in how Roxana reacted to hearing that this boy who was sweet on her would also be at whatever festival Silanos was taking her too. He couldn’t remember the name of it -- but he knew when it would be as it had already been the subject of other dinner conversations. However, Roxana’s insistence on going was put into a new light as she did a poor job of countering Sil’s question.
Timaeus laughed at the state of his poor embarrassed cousin, glancing over at Nico to see what he thought of Roxana stuttering her way through a defense about definitely not wanting to go to a festival just to see a boy. However, the joy died momentarily on his lips when he noticed that Nikos was not paying attention to the conversation at all. This was something that he should have noticed earlier as his brother’s laugh was known to fill the room at certain times. Having him be silent at a moment like this was deeply unnerving. A cold chill practically ran up Tim’s spine as he took note of the way Nico held a hand to his chest and continuously tried to clear his throat. At first, Timaeus thought that his brother was choking, but a quick glance down at both his brother’s barely touched plate and the pale color of his face made it clear that this was not the case. Clearly, though something was wrong.
The mere realization that something was amiss was enough to have Timaeus tune out the idle chatter at the end of the table and focus solely on Nico. With an eyebrow raised, he got his brother’s attention with a simple muttered, “You alright?” Tim was hoping to not draw too much attention to his brother and bring a needless worry to Periella. They all knew she was in a somewhat fragile state after the death of Amaxius and now worried excessively over any slight ailment in her children. Which Timaeus supposed was understandable. He had not been here to witness it, but he knew that Amaxius had suffered from a long, drawn-out illness that had caused him to grow weak and frail. The fear of such a thing recurring was not strong in Timaeus, but it was in others and it was best to let brief moments like this just be swept under the rug.
If this was something that would pass in a brief moment.
Nicomedes seemed to think it would. The Baron pushed aside his brother’s concerns with a small wave of the hand and his grimace twisting into something that was supposed to represent vague reassurance. However, he wasn’t a very convincing actor. Tim could see how his brother winced as he moved and how Nico had not said anything in response to his question. Clearly, something was wrong. Nodded slowly in assent, but not quite believing that his brother was truly okay, Tim was about to press him on the matter when a shrill voice from the other end of the table pulled him out of his thoughts and back into the nonsense that Silanos has started.
“Well, I mean I don’t see how me being friends with Larichlles is no different than Tim and Maleos!” Roxana countered, probably in some remark about how maybe the young girl shouldn’t be hanging out with other young men. Timaeus was forced to roll his eyes at this, completely unsure of his fifteen-year-old sister could not see how his own camaraderie with Lietenuant Maleos was nowhere near the same level of concern as it was to see Roxana with a boy. It was an entirely different dynamic as Tim and his friend might have been just as thick as thieves, but they didn’t have to worry about what might happen if a chaperone was not present.
“Well, I mean for starters mother is not worried about me kissing him like we are about you and Larichlles being alone.” He chimed back with a teasing grin, knowing full well that it would make his already embarrassed cousin even more flustered than she already was. Poor girl. If the sight of Roxana being so defensive wasn’t so amusing, Timaeus might honestly feel bad about poking fun at what could be Roxana’s crush. Gods only knew what he would do if he were in her shoes, after all.
Luckily for her though, distracting Timaeus from Nicomedes left room for the Military Captain to refocus the conversation towards back what he wanted to discuss; Silanos’s inevitable recruitment. “But anyway, we’ll plan for Saturday then? I can meet you at the blacksmith.” He pointedly said as he looked to his younger brother, not giving him much room to dodge the question like he had tried to do so before. Timaeus was deadset, after all in seeing his brother enlist, and given that their Colchian blood made them a rather forceful bunch, it was highly unlikely that Timaeus was not going to get his way eventually. Silanos couldn’t avoid what was the crux of their bloodline and family legacy forever, after all.
“If we go early enough, maybe we could even find the time to bring Roxana down to the market to find some jewelry or something for the festival?” He finished, glancing at his cousin. Tim had his hopes that roping Roxana in would force Sil’s hand and make him less inclined to claim that he already had previous plans for Saturday. Perhaps the boy genuinely did, but it was unlikely that those plans really mattered anyway. Silanos could just reschedule those and suck up the fact that he was going to be fitted for armor, by hell or high water.
Though it seemed to be that maybe the gods were the younger boy’s side today as even though Timaeus was certain that there was nothing that could disrupt this newly laid plan to get Silanos to do something with his life, it was unlikely to happen. Not as Nicomedes continued to grow paler and paler at the head of the table, trying to act as if nothing was wrong so that he might not rightfully worry the rest of his family…
The conversation had shifted toward Roxana, and her sweet little crush and Sil was happy enough with that development, mercilessly teasing the girl in a way only a brother could, even if she was not truly his sister. Larichlles was reasonably harmless, too shy to actually make any move Silanos thought so that the subject could be joked about safely. And if it had turned Timaeus off from his infuriating interfering, then that was all the better too.
The youngest Valaoritis brother gave an undisguised snort when the girl drew parallels between her friendship and that of Timaeus with his soldier buddy, and Sil lifted his cup and shot a look over at this brother as he spoke.
'Well, I mean for starters mother is not worried about me kissing him like we are about you and Larichlles being alone.'
With a little cant of his head, Silanos countered, only because he knew it would rile the elder. "Oh, I don't know. The two of you do seem very close Tim. It's hardly unheard of."
He grinned and ignored the shocked look from their Mother and Roxana's open mouth stare that he'd even make a joke like that over dinner. But Silanos had never much been one for adhering to social boundaries; rather he seemed to find some delight at seeing how far he could push them.
Unfortunately for him, this time it only served to turn his brother's attention back in his direction and back to that idea of him getting fitted for armour he had no want for of need of. This time he didn't try and disguise his distaste for the plan.
"I can think of a thousand ways I'd rather spend my Saturday, thank you," he said curtly, setting down the wine cup with a thunk. But Tim played a blinder with roping in Roxana, and the girl's enthusiasm was immediately evident. "Oh, yes! That would be great!" she chimed, turning her gaze from Timaeus to Silanos with a hopeful expression. The younger rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"You don't need me to play escort. Take Eleanor or something. Mother - I already have plans for Saturday" He pled his case first with the easier target, Piriella didn't often say no to her youngest son, and Sil knew how to play upon it. And if he won her over then, Nico would be hard-pressed to disagree, despite his position as head. Sil could almost taste victory as Periella hmm'd and asked Tim if it really needed to be this Saturday and he'd turned, ready to coax his eldest brother into sealing the win when the smile slid from his face.
Nico wasn't paying any attention to the conversation going on between the family. Instead he sat rigid in his seat, pale-faced and sweating, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the table. For a moment, his gaze met that of his youngest brother, wide-eyed and unseeing before he tipped forward.
"Nico" Silanos meant to say the words loudly, meant to draw attention to the man but they came out quiet, much quieter than he'd meant them to, and he blinked, startled when the loud crash of smashing clayware sounded instead. Rather than his voice, it was the maid who called the baron's name, the wine spreading in a pool at her feet as Nicomedes slumped forward in his chair, not moving.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The conversation had shifted toward Roxana, and her sweet little crush and Sil was happy enough with that development, mercilessly teasing the girl in a way only a brother could, even if she was not truly his sister. Larichlles was reasonably harmless, too shy to actually make any move Silanos thought so that the subject could be joked about safely. And if it had turned Timaeus off from his infuriating interfering, then that was all the better too.
The youngest Valaoritis brother gave an undisguised snort when the girl drew parallels between her friendship and that of Timaeus with his soldier buddy, and Sil lifted his cup and shot a look over at this brother as he spoke.
'Well, I mean for starters mother is not worried about me kissing him like we are about you and Larichlles being alone.'
With a little cant of his head, Silanos countered, only because he knew it would rile the elder. "Oh, I don't know. The two of you do seem very close Tim. It's hardly unheard of."
He grinned and ignored the shocked look from their Mother and Roxana's open mouth stare that he'd even make a joke like that over dinner. But Silanos had never much been one for adhering to social boundaries; rather he seemed to find some delight at seeing how far he could push them.
Unfortunately for him, this time it only served to turn his brother's attention back in his direction and back to that idea of him getting fitted for armour he had no want for of need of. This time he didn't try and disguise his distaste for the plan.
"I can think of a thousand ways I'd rather spend my Saturday, thank you," he said curtly, setting down the wine cup with a thunk. But Tim played a blinder with roping in Roxana, and the girl's enthusiasm was immediately evident. "Oh, yes! That would be great!" she chimed, turning her gaze from Timaeus to Silanos with a hopeful expression. The younger rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"You don't need me to play escort. Take Eleanor or something. Mother - I already have plans for Saturday" He pled his case first with the easier target, Piriella didn't often say no to her youngest son, and Sil knew how to play upon it. And if he won her over then, Nico would be hard-pressed to disagree, despite his position as head. Sil could almost taste victory as Periella hmm'd and asked Tim if it really needed to be this Saturday and he'd turned, ready to coax his eldest brother into sealing the win when the smile slid from his face.
Nico wasn't paying any attention to the conversation going on between the family. Instead he sat rigid in his seat, pale-faced and sweating, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the table. For a moment, his gaze met that of his youngest brother, wide-eyed and unseeing before he tipped forward.
"Nico" Silanos meant to say the words loudly, meant to draw attention to the man but they came out quiet, much quieter than he'd meant them to, and he blinked, startled when the loud crash of smashing clayware sounded instead. Rather than his voice, it was the maid who called the baron's name, the wine spreading in a pool at her feet as Nicomedes slumped forward in his chair, not moving.
The conversation had shifted toward Roxana, and her sweet little crush and Sil was happy enough with that development, mercilessly teasing the girl in a way only a brother could, even if she was not truly his sister. Larichlles was reasonably harmless, too shy to actually make any move Silanos thought so that the subject could be joked about safely. And if it had turned Timaeus off from his infuriating interfering, then that was all the better too.
The youngest Valaoritis brother gave an undisguised snort when the girl drew parallels between her friendship and that of Timaeus with his soldier buddy, and Sil lifted his cup and shot a look over at this brother as he spoke.
'Well, I mean for starters mother is not worried about me kissing him like we are about you and Larichlles being alone.'
With a little cant of his head, Silanos countered, only because he knew it would rile the elder. "Oh, I don't know. The two of you do seem very close Tim. It's hardly unheard of."
He grinned and ignored the shocked look from their Mother and Roxana's open mouth stare that he'd even make a joke like that over dinner. But Silanos had never much been one for adhering to social boundaries; rather he seemed to find some delight at seeing how far he could push them.
Unfortunately for him, this time it only served to turn his brother's attention back in his direction and back to that idea of him getting fitted for armour he had no want for of need of. This time he didn't try and disguise his distaste for the plan.
"I can think of a thousand ways I'd rather spend my Saturday, thank you," he said curtly, setting down the wine cup with a thunk. But Tim played a blinder with roping in Roxana, and the girl's enthusiasm was immediately evident. "Oh, yes! That would be great!" she chimed, turning her gaze from Timaeus to Silanos with a hopeful expression. The younger rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"You don't need me to play escort. Take Eleanor or something. Mother - I already have plans for Saturday" He pled his case first with the easier target, Piriella didn't often say no to her youngest son, and Sil knew how to play upon it. And if he won her over then, Nico would be hard-pressed to disagree, despite his position as head. Sil could almost taste victory as Periella hmm'd and asked Tim if it really needed to be this Saturday and he'd turned, ready to coax his eldest brother into sealing the win when the smile slid from his face.
Nico wasn't paying any attention to the conversation going on between the family. Instead he sat rigid in his seat, pale-faced and sweating, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the table. For a moment, his gaze met that of his youngest brother, wide-eyed and unseeing before he tipped forward.
"Nico" Silanos meant to say the words loudly, meant to draw attention to the man but they came out quiet, much quieter than he'd meant them to, and he blinked, startled when the loud crash of smashing clayware sounded instead. Rather than his voice, it was the maid who called the baron's name, the wine spreading in a pool at her feet as Nicomedes slumped forward in his chair, not moving.
Timaeus fought the urge to roll his eyes when Silanos tried to insist that he had plans for Saturday. What plans could the boy possibly have? Meeting another whore at noon? Getting high at dusk? Whatever they were, as far as the Captain was concerned they were worth nothing, an opinion that he made clear before their mother could truly get a word in about them choosing another date to Sil fitted for armor. “Change them.” Timaeus said bluntly, ignoring his mother’s question about if it had to be this Saturday. He knew that this was going to get him clout to the ear if he wasn’t careful as this was a very thin line that Timaeus was treading, but he just couldn’t cater to Silanos’s games. If he didn’t insist on it happening this Saturday and instead conceded to a later week, his brother would find a way to worm out of that one and the next one… and the one that came after that. Needless to say, it would be an endless circle of constantly making plans and Silanos escaping them as it had already been for the past two years. It had to stop somewhere and Tim would prefer that it was before the two of them were both shriveled and old with gray hairs coming out of their ears.
Even though Timaeus was certainly coming off as a bit of a prick at this moment, truly he had Silanos’s best interests at heart. The boy just couldn’t rely on being the relative of a baron forever. He was going to have to make a name and salary for himself if he didn’t want to have to constantly be begging Nico for handouts until they were both in their graves. Although Tim knew that the eldest brother didn’t see much of a problem with it now given how young Sil was and how close of a family unit they were -- could the same be said in ten years? Five years? Silanos had nothing to fall back on if he were to lose access to the Valaoritis treasury and Timaeus did not want to see his brother ever end up in a situation where he was destitute. The military was honestly the safest skillset that his brother could have. If he could swing a sword, he could go anywhere and still have a way to earn money. Truthfully, signing up to work under Timaeus was likely going to be the cushiest job that anyone in the unit would get as the older man knew that Sil’s heart wasn’t in it. He’d be rough during the drills -- just like everyone else, but once Sil passed that, he’d likely end up in the position of a steward, never having to lift a blade again.
However, it was still too much for Silanos.
It irked Timaeus how quick Sil was to completely brush him off. The boy was eighteen now, it was long past time he grew up and stopped acting like a kid as far as his elder brother was concerned. In a way, that was what irked Tim the most, seeing his younger brother faff around as the entire world owed him something. Had the elder Valaoritis even recognized this within himself, he might have also realized that this annoying feeling he had every time this conversation came up was a cover for an odd sort of resentment that was festering just beneath the surface. After all, the two brothers were far more alike than they would ever care to admit and Timaeus was guilty of the same sins his brother was, but tenfold in some cases. The Military Captain would never admit it, but in many ways, he was almost jealous of the carefree life Silanos was able to lead. The boy had no responsibilities, no reason to do anything save for whatever his whims were -- that was a life that Timaeus had just a few short years ago when he left home and set sail on a ship whose only destination was ‘away from here.’ However, the moment he returned to Colchis, Timaeus had been forced to grow up. He had to take the mantle of Captain to relieve the stress on Nico’s shoulders as that was what brothers did for each other. The two older boys were working themselves to death, trying to keep their father’s legacy alive and Sil…. Sil was wasting it by spending his time in brothels and opium dens. It had never sat right with Timaeus and that was likely why he was always so hard on the brother who failed to pull his weight.
Even though Tim was fairly certain that Silanos was going to fight this tooth and nail in order to preserve his carefree hedonistic lifestyle, the boy never got the chance to do so. Timaeus watched as all words of protest died on Silanos’s lips, but it wasn’t because his youngest brother didn’t have some sort of epiphany about his life path. Instead, his eyes seemed locked at the head of the table, face growing rigid and pale at whatever had captured his attention.
Completely unaware of the emergency that was transpiring, Timaeus turned his head towards his brother, a confused expression on his face, expecting to see his brother inject in a way that would have Silanos scared stiff -- whatever the circumstances of that would be as even Tim couldn’t fathom them. However, what he saw instead made his heart sputter in his chest as the cold, unseeing eyes of their eldest brother tipped forward as the Baron fell into the table with an earth-shattering crash. The plate beneath him cracked with the force of the man falling forward and stray bits of food flying through the air, some even landing on Timaeus. A goblet of wine tipped over too, leaving the impression of a bloody pool near the collapsed man, but was it Nico’s or Tim’s? With all eyes locked on the Baron, it was impossible to tell.
Several screams erupted all at once. The serving girl, Roxana, someone else that Tim couldn’t immediately identify -- but Timaeus wasn’t among them. Not when he was so shellshocked at seeing his brother slump forward like that. It was almost as if he couldn’t process it. At least not as first, but in the way that Nico fell, his head had turned towards the middle son and Timaeus could see the still express of his brother -- his palor rapidly draining the longer he sat there. Having been trained to react quickly, Tim went into autopilot as he kicked back his chair, completely unaware that his voice was now joining the frenzy of shouts of Nico’s name. Being the closest to the Baron and the first one to jump into action, the Captain was the one who pushed Nico back up in his seat, hands shakily moving across the man’s neck and chest, searching for any sign of life. His repeated shouts of his brother’s name grew more frantic as none was found. The ever-steady pulse that should be there was gone. His brother’s chest did rise and fall with the presence of his breath. He was still. Far too still to be a part of this world.
Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods.
“He’s -- He’s not breathing!” Tim uselessly shouted as he tried to haul his brother out of his chair, trying to get him on the floor so that the younger brother might force his brother’s heart to start again. He had stories of men being revived in this method and sheer instinct was telling him that this was the thing that he had to do, but he couldn’t. Tim’s hands were shaking, his brother was covered in a thin layer of sweat, he couldn’t get a grip on him. Tears welled in his eyes as he continuously failed to get a grip on his brother that wouldn’t send him crashing onto the ground, pinning Timaeus underneath him.
“No, no, no, no! Sil! Help!” He screamed at the little brother who had seemingly yet to move. Nico needed to be moved by the help of two men and with Nico in trouble, the youngest and least reliable was the only one that could help get the Baron on the ground. Struggling with the dead weight of the unconscious and not breathing man was wasting precious seconds that they did not have. The brothers needed to do something and fast to revive Nico.
But what could they really do if Thanatos had already claimed their formidable brother as his own?
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Check out their information page here.
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Timaeus fought the urge to roll his eyes when Silanos tried to insist that he had plans for Saturday. What plans could the boy possibly have? Meeting another whore at noon? Getting high at dusk? Whatever they were, as far as the Captain was concerned they were worth nothing, an opinion that he made clear before their mother could truly get a word in about them choosing another date to Sil fitted for armor. “Change them.” Timaeus said bluntly, ignoring his mother’s question about if it had to be this Saturday. He knew that this was going to get him clout to the ear if he wasn’t careful as this was a very thin line that Timaeus was treading, but he just couldn’t cater to Silanos’s games. If he didn’t insist on it happening this Saturday and instead conceded to a later week, his brother would find a way to worm out of that one and the next one… and the one that came after that. Needless to say, it would be an endless circle of constantly making plans and Silanos escaping them as it had already been for the past two years. It had to stop somewhere and Tim would prefer that it was before the two of them were both shriveled and old with gray hairs coming out of their ears.
Even though Timaeus was certainly coming off as a bit of a prick at this moment, truly he had Silanos’s best interests at heart. The boy just couldn’t rely on being the relative of a baron forever. He was going to have to make a name and salary for himself if he didn’t want to have to constantly be begging Nico for handouts until they were both in their graves. Although Tim knew that the eldest brother didn’t see much of a problem with it now given how young Sil was and how close of a family unit they were -- could the same be said in ten years? Five years? Silanos had nothing to fall back on if he were to lose access to the Valaoritis treasury and Timaeus did not want to see his brother ever end up in a situation where he was destitute. The military was honestly the safest skillset that his brother could have. If he could swing a sword, he could go anywhere and still have a way to earn money. Truthfully, signing up to work under Timaeus was likely going to be the cushiest job that anyone in the unit would get as the older man knew that Sil’s heart wasn’t in it. He’d be rough during the drills -- just like everyone else, but once Sil passed that, he’d likely end up in the position of a steward, never having to lift a blade again.
However, it was still too much for Silanos.
It irked Timaeus how quick Sil was to completely brush him off. The boy was eighteen now, it was long past time he grew up and stopped acting like a kid as far as his elder brother was concerned. In a way, that was what irked Tim the most, seeing his younger brother faff around as the entire world owed him something. Had the elder Valaoritis even recognized this within himself, he might have also realized that this annoying feeling he had every time this conversation came up was a cover for an odd sort of resentment that was festering just beneath the surface. After all, the two brothers were far more alike than they would ever care to admit and Timaeus was guilty of the same sins his brother was, but tenfold in some cases. The Military Captain would never admit it, but in many ways, he was almost jealous of the carefree life Silanos was able to lead. The boy had no responsibilities, no reason to do anything save for whatever his whims were -- that was a life that Timaeus had just a few short years ago when he left home and set sail on a ship whose only destination was ‘away from here.’ However, the moment he returned to Colchis, Timaeus had been forced to grow up. He had to take the mantle of Captain to relieve the stress on Nico’s shoulders as that was what brothers did for each other. The two older boys were working themselves to death, trying to keep their father’s legacy alive and Sil…. Sil was wasting it by spending his time in brothels and opium dens. It had never sat right with Timaeus and that was likely why he was always so hard on the brother who failed to pull his weight.
Even though Tim was fairly certain that Silanos was going to fight this tooth and nail in order to preserve his carefree hedonistic lifestyle, the boy never got the chance to do so. Timaeus watched as all words of protest died on Silanos’s lips, but it wasn’t because his youngest brother didn’t have some sort of epiphany about his life path. Instead, his eyes seemed locked at the head of the table, face growing rigid and pale at whatever had captured his attention.
Completely unaware of the emergency that was transpiring, Timaeus turned his head towards his brother, a confused expression on his face, expecting to see his brother inject in a way that would have Silanos scared stiff -- whatever the circumstances of that would be as even Tim couldn’t fathom them. However, what he saw instead made his heart sputter in his chest as the cold, unseeing eyes of their eldest brother tipped forward as the Baron fell into the table with an earth-shattering crash. The plate beneath him cracked with the force of the man falling forward and stray bits of food flying through the air, some even landing on Timaeus. A goblet of wine tipped over too, leaving the impression of a bloody pool near the collapsed man, but was it Nico’s or Tim’s? With all eyes locked on the Baron, it was impossible to tell.
Several screams erupted all at once. The serving girl, Roxana, someone else that Tim couldn’t immediately identify -- but Timaeus wasn’t among them. Not when he was so shellshocked at seeing his brother slump forward like that. It was almost as if he couldn’t process it. At least not as first, but in the way that Nico fell, his head had turned towards the middle son and Timaeus could see the still express of his brother -- his palor rapidly draining the longer he sat there. Having been trained to react quickly, Tim went into autopilot as he kicked back his chair, completely unaware that his voice was now joining the frenzy of shouts of Nico’s name. Being the closest to the Baron and the first one to jump into action, the Captain was the one who pushed Nico back up in his seat, hands shakily moving across the man’s neck and chest, searching for any sign of life. His repeated shouts of his brother’s name grew more frantic as none was found. The ever-steady pulse that should be there was gone. His brother’s chest did rise and fall with the presence of his breath. He was still. Far too still to be a part of this world.
Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods.
“He’s -- He’s not breathing!” Tim uselessly shouted as he tried to haul his brother out of his chair, trying to get him on the floor so that the younger brother might force his brother’s heart to start again. He had stories of men being revived in this method and sheer instinct was telling him that this was the thing that he had to do, but he couldn’t. Tim’s hands were shaking, his brother was covered in a thin layer of sweat, he couldn’t get a grip on him. Tears welled in his eyes as he continuously failed to get a grip on his brother that wouldn’t send him crashing onto the ground, pinning Timaeus underneath him.
“No, no, no, no! Sil! Help!” He screamed at the little brother who had seemingly yet to move. Nico needed to be moved by the help of two men and with Nico in trouble, the youngest and least reliable was the only one that could help get the Baron on the ground. Struggling with the dead weight of the unconscious and not breathing man was wasting precious seconds that they did not have. The brothers needed to do something and fast to revive Nico.
But what could they really do if Thanatos had already claimed their formidable brother as his own?
Timaeus fought the urge to roll his eyes when Silanos tried to insist that he had plans for Saturday. What plans could the boy possibly have? Meeting another whore at noon? Getting high at dusk? Whatever they were, as far as the Captain was concerned they were worth nothing, an opinion that he made clear before their mother could truly get a word in about them choosing another date to Sil fitted for armor. “Change them.” Timaeus said bluntly, ignoring his mother’s question about if it had to be this Saturday. He knew that this was going to get him clout to the ear if he wasn’t careful as this was a very thin line that Timaeus was treading, but he just couldn’t cater to Silanos’s games. If he didn’t insist on it happening this Saturday and instead conceded to a later week, his brother would find a way to worm out of that one and the next one… and the one that came after that. Needless to say, it would be an endless circle of constantly making plans and Silanos escaping them as it had already been for the past two years. It had to stop somewhere and Tim would prefer that it was before the two of them were both shriveled and old with gray hairs coming out of their ears.
Even though Timaeus was certainly coming off as a bit of a prick at this moment, truly he had Silanos’s best interests at heart. The boy just couldn’t rely on being the relative of a baron forever. He was going to have to make a name and salary for himself if he didn’t want to have to constantly be begging Nico for handouts until they were both in their graves. Although Tim knew that the eldest brother didn’t see much of a problem with it now given how young Sil was and how close of a family unit they were -- could the same be said in ten years? Five years? Silanos had nothing to fall back on if he were to lose access to the Valaoritis treasury and Timaeus did not want to see his brother ever end up in a situation where he was destitute. The military was honestly the safest skillset that his brother could have. If he could swing a sword, he could go anywhere and still have a way to earn money. Truthfully, signing up to work under Timaeus was likely going to be the cushiest job that anyone in the unit would get as the older man knew that Sil’s heart wasn’t in it. He’d be rough during the drills -- just like everyone else, but once Sil passed that, he’d likely end up in the position of a steward, never having to lift a blade again.
However, it was still too much for Silanos.
It irked Timaeus how quick Sil was to completely brush him off. The boy was eighteen now, it was long past time he grew up and stopped acting like a kid as far as his elder brother was concerned. In a way, that was what irked Tim the most, seeing his younger brother faff around as the entire world owed him something. Had the elder Valaoritis even recognized this within himself, he might have also realized that this annoying feeling he had every time this conversation came up was a cover for an odd sort of resentment that was festering just beneath the surface. After all, the two brothers were far more alike than they would ever care to admit and Timaeus was guilty of the same sins his brother was, but tenfold in some cases. The Military Captain would never admit it, but in many ways, he was almost jealous of the carefree life Silanos was able to lead. The boy had no responsibilities, no reason to do anything save for whatever his whims were -- that was a life that Timaeus had just a few short years ago when he left home and set sail on a ship whose only destination was ‘away from here.’ However, the moment he returned to Colchis, Timaeus had been forced to grow up. He had to take the mantle of Captain to relieve the stress on Nico’s shoulders as that was what brothers did for each other. The two older boys were working themselves to death, trying to keep their father’s legacy alive and Sil…. Sil was wasting it by spending his time in brothels and opium dens. It had never sat right with Timaeus and that was likely why he was always so hard on the brother who failed to pull his weight.
Even though Tim was fairly certain that Silanos was going to fight this tooth and nail in order to preserve his carefree hedonistic lifestyle, the boy never got the chance to do so. Timaeus watched as all words of protest died on Silanos’s lips, but it wasn’t because his youngest brother didn’t have some sort of epiphany about his life path. Instead, his eyes seemed locked at the head of the table, face growing rigid and pale at whatever had captured his attention.
Completely unaware of the emergency that was transpiring, Timaeus turned his head towards his brother, a confused expression on his face, expecting to see his brother inject in a way that would have Silanos scared stiff -- whatever the circumstances of that would be as even Tim couldn’t fathom them. However, what he saw instead made his heart sputter in his chest as the cold, unseeing eyes of their eldest brother tipped forward as the Baron fell into the table with an earth-shattering crash. The plate beneath him cracked with the force of the man falling forward and stray bits of food flying through the air, some even landing on Timaeus. A goblet of wine tipped over too, leaving the impression of a bloody pool near the collapsed man, but was it Nico’s or Tim’s? With all eyes locked on the Baron, it was impossible to tell.
Several screams erupted all at once. The serving girl, Roxana, someone else that Tim couldn’t immediately identify -- but Timaeus wasn’t among them. Not when he was so shellshocked at seeing his brother slump forward like that. It was almost as if he couldn’t process it. At least not as first, but in the way that Nico fell, his head had turned towards the middle son and Timaeus could see the still express of his brother -- his palor rapidly draining the longer he sat there. Having been trained to react quickly, Tim went into autopilot as he kicked back his chair, completely unaware that his voice was now joining the frenzy of shouts of Nico’s name. Being the closest to the Baron and the first one to jump into action, the Captain was the one who pushed Nico back up in his seat, hands shakily moving across the man’s neck and chest, searching for any sign of life. His repeated shouts of his brother’s name grew more frantic as none was found. The ever-steady pulse that should be there was gone. His brother’s chest did rise and fall with the presence of his breath. He was still. Far too still to be a part of this world.
Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods.
“He’s -- He’s not breathing!” Tim uselessly shouted as he tried to haul his brother out of his chair, trying to get him on the floor so that the younger brother might force his brother’s heart to start again. He had stories of men being revived in this method and sheer instinct was telling him that this was the thing that he had to do, but he couldn’t. Tim’s hands were shaking, his brother was covered in a thin layer of sweat, he couldn’t get a grip on him. Tears welled in his eyes as he continuously failed to get a grip on his brother that wouldn’t send him crashing onto the ground, pinning Timaeus underneath him.
“No, no, no, no! Sil! Help!” He screamed at the little brother who had seemingly yet to move. Nico needed to be moved by the help of two men and with Nico in trouble, the youngest and least reliable was the only one that could help get the Baron on the ground. Struggling with the dead weight of the unconscious and not breathing man was wasting precious seconds that they did not have. The brothers needed to do something and fast to revive Nico.
But what could they really do if Thanatos had already claimed their formidable brother as his own?
Silanos had looked on as the room around him suddenly seemed to scramble into activity. Timaeus was up and out of his seat and grasping at his elder brother, servants from the rest of the house had run in at hearing the scream, Roxana had pushed back from the table in distress, her hands gripping tight at the linen napkin at he lap.
But Silanos couldn’t make himself move. As if he were being pressed into his chair by a thousand unseen hands, he just sat unmovingly stared at the tableau unfolding before him, a rushing sound in his ears making the voices seem far away.
Nico wasn’t moving, and Sil was waiting for his burly big brother to jerk back to life and shove Tim away, laughing at him for being so easily taken in. They’d all laugh, and dinner would settle back into Tim needling at Sil and Nico refereeing, and that was just what needed to happen now. Any minute. Any second now.
But Nicomedes was not moving, even as Tim tried to grapple his limp form and risked sending them both tumbling to the floor and Sil wrenched his gaze from the eldest brother to the middle as Tim said his name. He needed to move, needed to help.
The wooden legs of his chair screeched against the stone as he finally managed to summon the wits to make himself get up, and his eyes were wide, panicked as he moved over to where Tim struggled with the dead weight of their brother. “ What’s….how..?” His hands fluttered uselessly for a moment as if unsure where he might be of help and then Sil swallowed and snapped at one of the servants standing by.
“Well don’t just fucking stand there!. Get a physician or something!” His voice was sharp and suddenly loud now he’d found it, and he wrapped his hands under one of Nico’s arms and lifted with his brother to lay the eldest of them out on the floor. There was no rise and fall of his chest, not a fluttering of his eyelids to suggest he might just have fainted and Sil didn’t know what to do. He looked at Timaeus, jolted to see his face so panicked too. Sil sat back on his heels, put his hands on the expanse of Nico’s chest to feel for some movement or a heartbeat; he didn’t know what. He wasn’t a fucking doctor.
“Do something?” he pleaded, because Tim could fix this, couldn’t he?
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Silanos had looked on as the room around him suddenly seemed to scramble into activity. Timaeus was up and out of his seat and grasping at his elder brother, servants from the rest of the house had run in at hearing the scream, Roxana had pushed back from the table in distress, her hands gripping tight at the linen napkin at he lap.
But Silanos couldn’t make himself move. As if he were being pressed into his chair by a thousand unseen hands, he just sat unmovingly stared at the tableau unfolding before him, a rushing sound in his ears making the voices seem far away.
Nico wasn’t moving, and Sil was waiting for his burly big brother to jerk back to life and shove Tim away, laughing at him for being so easily taken in. They’d all laugh, and dinner would settle back into Tim needling at Sil and Nico refereeing, and that was just what needed to happen now. Any minute. Any second now.
But Nicomedes was not moving, even as Tim tried to grapple his limp form and risked sending them both tumbling to the floor and Sil wrenched his gaze from the eldest brother to the middle as Tim said his name. He needed to move, needed to help.
The wooden legs of his chair screeched against the stone as he finally managed to summon the wits to make himself get up, and his eyes were wide, panicked as he moved over to where Tim struggled with the dead weight of their brother. “ What’s….how..?” His hands fluttered uselessly for a moment as if unsure where he might be of help and then Sil swallowed and snapped at one of the servants standing by.
“Well don’t just fucking stand there!. Get a physician or something!” His voice was sharp and suddenly loud now he’d found it, and he wrapped his hands under one of Nico’s arms and lifted with his brother to lay the eldest of them out on the floor. There was no rise and fall of his chest, not a fluttering of his eyelids to suggest he might just have fainted and Sil didn’t know what to do. He looked at Timaeus, jolted to see his face so panicked too. Sil sat back on his heels, put his hands on the expanse of Nico’s chest to feel for some movement or a heartbeat; he didn’t know what. He wasn’t a fucking doctor.
“Do something?” he pleaded, because Tim could fix this, couldn’t he?
Silanos had looked on as the room around him suddenly seemed to scramble into activity. Timaeus was up and out of his seat and grasping at his elder brother, servants from the rest of the house had run in at hearing the scream, Roxana had pushed back from the table in distress, her hands gripping tight at the linen napkin at he lap.
But Silanos couldn’t make himself move. As if he were being pressed into his chair by a thousand unseen hands, he just sat unmovingly stared at the tableau unfolding before him, a rushing sound in his ears making the voices seem far away.
Nico wasn’t moving, and Sil was waiting for his burly big brother to jerk back to life and shove Tim away, laughing at him for being so easily taken in. They’d all laugh, and dinner would settle back into Tim needling at Sil and Nico refereeing, and that was just what needed to happen now. Any minute. Any second now.
But Nicomedes was not moving, even as Tim tried to grapple his limp form and risked sending them both tumbling to the floor and Sil wrenched his gaze from the eldest brother to the middle as Tim said his name. He needed to move, needed to help.
The wooden legs of his chair screeched against the stone as he finally managed to summon the wits to make himself get up, and his eyes were wide, panicked as he moved over to where Tim struggled with the dead weight of their brother. “ What’s….how..?” His hands fluttered uselessly for a moment as if unsure where he might be of help and then Sil swallowed and snapped at one of the servants standing by.
“Well don’t just fucking stand there!. Get a physician or something!” His voice was sharp and suddenly loud now he’d found it, and he wrapped his hands under one of Nico’s arms and lifted with his brother to lay the eldest of them out on the floor. There was no rise and fall of his chest, not a fluttering of his eyelids to suggest he might just have fainted and Sil didn’t know what to do. He looked at Timaeus, jolted to see his face so panicked too. Sil sat back on his heels, put his hands on the expanse of Nico’s chest to feel for some movement or a heartbeat; he didn’t know what. He wasn’t a fucking doctor.
“Do something?” he pleaded, because Tim could fix this, couldn’t he?
Even though the entire family could not comprehend the sight that they were seeing before them as Nico lay face first in his own meal, it seemed to be that at least the two boys were able to spring into action. Timaeus’s call for his brother’s help did not go unanswered and with a bit of fumbling, the two men were able to haul Nico out of his chair and onto the floor. Turning him so that he lay flat on his back, the brother now had to figure out what they could do in the long agonizing moments it would take for the healers to arrive. If there was anything that they could do.
After all, Nico was dead.
Any fool looking at the baron now sprawled out onto the floor could see that there was no coming back from whatever had struck the man down. His eyelids were half-fluttered open, but the pupil beneath did not react to the light of the fireplace he was now facing. The color of the man’s skin was fading away from its vibrant color and becoming ashier as the two younger brothers lingered over the man, completely unsure and too panicked to know what to do. Then, of course, there was Nico’s chest. It was not moving. There weren’t any signs of life. Not even so much of a flutter as a weak breath or fluttering heartbeat pounded away beneath the skin that was already colored with the pallor of death. It was almost as if time had stopped, that was the only way Timaeus could rationalize the sight he was seeing before them. Kronos had stopped the clock for Nico, but the rest of them were fine and once he restarted that sundial, everything would be fine. Everything had to be fine. There was no other way that this could end. Nico could not be dead. It didn’t matter what all the signs pointed to, how clear it was that time was not going to start again for the former Baron of Eubocris, Timaeus refused to accept the fact that Nico was clearly dead.
However, the sheer shock of seeing his brother in such a terrible state prevented him from moving right away. Timaeus had seen bodies before. Seven Hades, his own return to this wretched province had been marked by a murder investigation of that poor girl who had been found in the square. He knew what death looked like. He also knew what a violent, unexpected death appeared to be. If anyone in this room should be familiar with the sight, it was Timaeus -- But finding a naked girl with a slit to her throat in a town square was a far cry from watching his own brother collapse. This was his own flesh and blood sprawled out before the last two Valaoritis boys. Nico was the brother that Timaeus had always turned too and he was fairly certain that Silanos could say the same as well. He had always been the man with all the answers. Nico would have been the one who knew what to do if it was Tim or Sil not breathing. Never in a thousand years had Timaeus ever even thought that his brother would be struck down like this. The elder brother was supposed to be the steady one. He was supposed to live in this manor until he was old and gray, peacefully slipping away after leaving behind a grand legacy for his children. Not fall into his dinner plate at twenty-seven!
The whole situation seemed to be so absurd that it had to be some sort of sick dream. This was nothing more than a twisted nightmare that they would all soon wake from. However, Timaeus also knew that this wasn’t true. The twisting of his gut was so violent, so claustrophobic, that he would have certainly been awoken by it if this was some sort of nightmare. Not to mention he could see the sheer fear plastered onto his younger brother’s face as Sil begged Tim to do something. Silanos was never afraid. He was always so reckless and ready to take the world on that not even Tim’s own subconscious could conjure that image of fear painted before him. He was sure that his own expression reflected his brother’s fears and the sheer helplessness that they both felt at this moment, but not for long. Seeing that the eighteen-year-old had no clue what to do -- that made something click in Timaeus that overrode the shock and fear that came with this terrifying situation. He couldn’t even describe it, it was almost as if he lost control of his own body as he instinctually reached out and starting pounding away at their dead brother’s chest.
One palm crossed over the other, fingers interlocking as Timaeus leaned over his brother and put all of his weight into forcing the man’s heart to start again. It was a sickening sound as Timaeus grunted from the sheer pain of tossing all of his weight into his arms and hands. Not to mention that the room filled with a sickening crunch as sternum and ribs cracked beneath Timaeus’s efforts. It was a horrible noise as it filled the deathly silent room and Tim could faintly hear the gasps of shock somewhere behind him, but he paid them no mind as he kept pumping his arms, praying to whatever god would listen, but @apollo especially that they would take mercy on Nico and return him to life. They weren’t ready to let him go. Not so soon after the death of Amaxius. The family couldn’t take this sort of heartbreak.
But the gods did not care what the mortals could or could not handle. The fates had deemed that it was time to cut the string of their older brother and there was nothing that could undo this sort of thing. Not when Timaeus echoed the calls for a physician and looked to his younger brother across from him and barked “Get some water!” The elder brother thought that maybe drenching the older brother might encourage him to breath -- something that would have made sense if Nico had merely passed out, but he hadn’t. He was dead. He had left them before his head ever hit the table and no amount of forced beatings of his heart was going to bring him back. It was fruitless, but Timaeus couldn’t stop. A part of him knew that it was too late as the household came over their shock and began to run around, trying to find doctors, medicines, anything that could help them save their baron; but he did not stop pumping.
He would not stop. Not even if a doctor came into the room would he cease in his efforts to revive the older man. No matter how his own muscles screamed in agony from the sheer labor of it all. He was going to have to be dragged off of their older brother by force because after all, Timaeus could not accept a world without Nico in it. By hell or high water, Timaeus was going to make his brother breathe again and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do about it.
But what was going to happen when the reality sunk in for everyone else that Nico wasn’t coming back from this?
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Even though the entire family could not comprehend the sight that they were seeing before them as Nico lay face first in his own meal, it seemed to be that at least the two boys were able to spring into action. Timaeus’s call for his brother’s help did not go unanswered and with a bit of fumbling, the two men were able to haul Nico out of his chair and onto the floor. Turning him so that he lay flat on his back, the brother now had to figure out what they could do in the long agonizing moments it would take for the healers to arrive. If there was anything that they could do.
After all, Nico was dead.
Any fool looking at the baron now sprawled out onto the floor could see that there was no coming back from whatever had struck the man down. His eyelids were half-fluttered open, but the pupil beneath did not react to the light of the fireplace he was now facing. The color of the man’s skin was fading away from its vibrant color and becoming ashier as the two younger brothers lingered over the man, completely unsure and too panicked to know what to do. Then, of course, there was Nico’s chest. It was not moving. There weren’t any signs of life. Not even so much of a flutter as a weak breath or fluttering heartbeat pounded away beneath the skin that was already colored with the pallor of death. It was almost as if time had stopped, that was the only way Timaeus could rationalize the sight he was seeing before them. Kronos had stopped the clock for Nico, but the rest of them were fine and once he restarted that sundial, everything would be fine. Everything had to be fine. There was no other way that this could end. Nico could not be dead. It didn’t matter what all the signs pointed to, how clear it was that time was not going to start again for the former Baron of Eubocris, Timaeus refused to accept the fact that Nico was clearly dead.
However, the sheer shock of seeing his brother in such a terrible state prevented him from moving right away. Timaeus had seen bodies before. Seven Hades, his own return to this wretched province had been marked by a murder investigation of that poor girl who had been found in the square. He knew what death looked like. He also knew what a violent, unexpected death appeared to be. If anyone in this room should be familiar with the sight, it was Timaeus -- But finding a naked girl with a slit to her throat in a town square was a far cry from watching his own brother collapse. This was his own flesh and blood sprawled out before the last two Valaoritis boys. Nico was the brother that Timaeus had always turned too and he was fairly certain that Silanos could say the same as well. He had always been the man with all the answers. Nico would have been the one who knew what to do if it was Tim or Sil not breathing. Never in a thousand years had Timaeus ever even thought that his brother would be struck down like this. The elder brother was supposed to be the steady one. He was supposed to live in this manor until he was old and gray, peacefully slipping away after leaving behind a grand legacy for his children. Not fall into his dinner plate at twenty-seven!
The whole situation seemed to be so absurd that it had to be some sort of sick dream. This was nothing more than a twisted nightmare that they would all soon wake from. However, Timaeus also knew that this wasn’t true. The twisting of his gut was so violent, so claustrophobic, that he would have certainly been awoken by it if this was some sort of nightmare. Not to mention he could see the sheer fear plastered onto his younger brother’s face as Sil begged Tim to do something. Silanos was never afraid. He was always so reckless and ready to take the world on that not even Tim’s own subconscious could conjure that image of fear painted before him. He was sure that his own expression reflected his brother’s fears and the sheer helplessness that they both felt at this moment, but not for long. Seeing that the eighteen-year-old had no clue what to do -- that made something click in Timaeus that overrode the shock and fear that came with this terrifying situation. He couldn’t even describe it, it was almost as if he lost control of his own body as he instinctually reached out and starting pounding away at their dead brother’s chest.
One palm crossed over the other, fingers interlocking as Timaeus leaned over his brother and put all of his weight into forcing the man’s heart to start again. It was a sickening sound as Timaeus grunted from the sheer pain of tossing all of his weight into his arms and hands. Not to mention that the room filled with a sickening crunch as sternum and ribs cracked beneath Timaeus’s efforts. It was a horrible noise as it filled the deathly silent room and Tim could faintly hear the gasps of shock somewhere behind him, but he paid them no mind as he kept pumping his arms, praying to whatever god would listen, but @apollo especially that they would take mercy on Nico and return him to life. They weren’t ready to let him go. Not so soon after the death of Amaxius. The family couldn’t take this sort of heartbreak.
But the gods did not care what the mortals could or could not handle. The fates had deemed that it was time to cut the string of their older brother and there was nothing that could undo this sort of thing. Not when Timaeus echoed the calls for a physician and looked to his younger brother across from him and barked “Get some water!” The elder brother thought that maybe drenching the older brother might encourage him to breath -- something that would have made sense if Nico had merely passed out, but he hadn’t. He was dead. He had left them before his head ever hit the table and no amount of forced beatings of his heart was going to bring him back. It was fruitless, but Timaeus couldn’t stop. A part of him knew that it was too late as the household came over their shock and began to run around, trying to find doctors, medicines, anything that could help them save their baron; but he did not stop pumping.
He would not stop. Not even if a doctor came into the room would he cease in his efforts to revive the older man. No matter how his own muscles screamed in agony from the sheer labor of it all. He was going to have to be dragged off of their older brother by force because after all, Timaeus could not accept a world without Nico in it. By hell or high water, Timaeus was going to make his brother breathe again and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do about it.
But what was going to happen when the reality sunk in for everyone else that Nico wasn’t coming back from this?
Even though the entire family could not comprehend the sight that they were seeing before them as Nico lay face first in his own meal, it seemed to be that at least the two boys were able to spring into action. Timaeus’s call for his brother’s help did not go unanswered and with a bit of fumbling, the two men were able to haul Nico out of his chair and onto the floor. Turning him so that he lay flat on his back, the brother now had to figure out what they could do in the long agonizing moments it would take for the healers to arrive. If there was anything that they could do.
After all, Nico was dead.
Any fool looking at the baron now sprawled out onto the floor could see that there was no coming back from whatever had struck the man down. His eyelids were half-fluttered open, but the pupil beneath did not react to the light of the fireplace he was now facing. The color of the man’s skin was fading away from its vibrant color and becoming ashier as the two younger brothers lingered over the man, completely unsure and too panicked to know what to do. Then, of course, there was Nico’s chest. It was not moving. There weren’t any signs of life. Not even so much of a flutter as a weak breath or fluttering heartbeat pounded away beneath the skin that was already colored with the pallor of death. It was almost as if time had stopped, that was the only way Timaeus could rationalize the sight he was seeing before them. Kronos had stopped the clock for Nico, but the rest of them were fine and once he restarted that sundial, everything would be fine. Everything had to be fine. There was no other way that this could end. Nico could not be dead. It didn’t matter what all the signs pointed to, how clear it was that time was not going to start again for the former Baron of Eubocris, Timaeus refused to accept the fact that Nico was clearly dead.
However, the sheer shock of seeing his brother in such a terrible state prevented him from moving right away. Timaeus had seen bodies before. Seven Hades, his own return to this wretched province had been marked by a murder investigation of that poor girl who had been found in the square. He knew what death looked like. He also knew what a violent, unexpected death appeared to be. If anyone in this room should be familiar with the sight, it was Timaeus -- But finding a naked girl with a slit to her throat in a town square was a far cry from watching his own brother collapse. This was his own flesh and blood sprawled out before the last two Valaoritis boys. Nico was the brother that Timaeus had always turned too and he was fairly certain that Silanos could say the same as well. He had always been the man with all the answers. Nico would have been the one who knew what to do if it was Tim or Sil not breathing. Never in a thousand years had Timaeus ever even thought that his brother would be struck down like this. The elder brother was supposed to be the steady one. He was supposed to live in this manor until he was old and gray, peacefully slipping away after leaving behind a grand legacy for his children. Not fall into his dinner plate at twenty-seven!
The whole situation seemed to be so absurd that it had to be some sort of sick dream. This was nothing more than a twisted nightmare that they would all soon wake from. However, Timaeus also knew that this wasn’t true. The twisting of his gut was so violent, so claustrophobic, that he would have certainly been awoken by it if this was some sort of nightmare. Not to mention he could see the sheer fear plastered onto his younger brother’s face as Sil begged Tim to do something. Silanos was never afraid. He was always so reckless and ready to take the world on that not even Tim’s own subconscious could conjure that image of fear painted before him. He was sure that his own expression reflected his brother’s fears and the sheer helplessness that they both felt at this moment, but not for long. Seeing that the eighteen-year-old had no clue what to do -- that made something click in Timaeus that overrode the shock and fear that came with this terrifying situation. He couldn’t even describe it, it was almost as if he lost control of his own body as he instinctually reached out and starting pounding away at their dead brother’s chest.
One palm crossed over the other, fingers interlocking as Timaeus leaned over his brother and put all of his weight into forcing the man’s heart to start again. It was a sickening sound as Timaeus grunted from the sheer pain of tossing all of his weight into his arms and hands. Not to mention that the room filled with a sickening crunch as sternum and ribs cracked beneath Timaeus’s efforts. It was a horrible noise as it filled the deathly silent room and Tim could faintly hear the gasps of shock somewhere behind him, but he paid them no mind as he kept pumping his arms, praying to whatever god would listen, but @apollo especially that they would take mercy on Nico and return him to life. They weren’t ready to let him go. Not so soon after the death of Amaxius. The family couldn’t take this sort of heartbreak.
But the gods did not care what the mortals could or could not handle. The fates had deemed that it was time to cut the string of their older brother and there was nothing that could undo this sort of thing. Not when Timaeus echoed the calls for a physician and looked to his younger brother across from him and barked “Get some water!” The elder brother thought that maybe drenching the older brother might encourage him to breath -- something that would have made sense if Nico had merely passed out, but he hadn’t. He was dead. He had left them before his head ever hit the table and no amount of forced beatings of his heart was going to bring him back. It was fruitless, but Timaeus couldn’t stop. A part of him knew that it was too late as the household came over their shock and began to run around, trying to find doctors, medicines, anything that could help them save their baron; but he did not stop pumping.
He would not stop. Not even if a doctor came into the room would he cease in his efforts to revive the older man. No matter how his own muscles screamed in agony from the sheer labor of it all. He was going to have to be dragged off of their older brother by force because after all, Timaeus could not accept a world without Nico in it. By hell or high water, Timaeus was going to make his brother breathe again and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do about it.
But what was going to happen when the reality sunk in for everyone else that Nico wasn’t coming back from this?
Nico had felt too heavy. Not like a person but like a sack of grain, immobile and inert. Sil had to dig his fingers in to get a grip on him and move him as Timaeus wanted, and then he just sprawled on the floor, head lolling to the side and his eyes…
They weren’t seeing. Just blank, lifeless. Silanos felt his throat tighten even as the thought crossed his mind, wondered for a moment if he wasn’t going to be sick. With a jerk, he pulled his hands back from that still body, wiped his sweating palms off on his chiton. Swallowing convulsively he looked to Timaeus, flinching back when his brother suddenly began beating on Nico’s chest. The dull thump of flesh striking flesh and then a sickening crunch and Sil spared a glance for the others, his mother’s face ghost white, her hand drawn over her mouth in horror and Roxana staring wide-eyed.
“Tim, please,” he said, not sure what he was asking for. For him to stop that brutal pounding? But he was trying to savehim wasn’t he? If he stopped then that meant…
'Get some water!'
Silanos skittered back a little and scrambled to his feet, panic and the numb feeling in his limbs making him ungainly, but he’d been given something to do. So he leant across the table to grab the stoneware jug of water that sat there and then held it out towards Timaeus uselessly. What was it for? What was he going to do now?
When his brother upended the jug over Nico’s head, Sil began to see his thinking but..Nicomedes hadn’t stirred whilst Tim was whaling on his chest, Sil didn’t see how unless he was…
There was a tense, sharp silence as the family looked on and Sil found himself clutching the back of a chair, grip so tight this skin over his knuckles blanched white. Nothing. There was nothing.
How could there be nothing?
At a loss, he just stared, until a sound rent the silence apart.
A low, almost animalistic keening, Periella finally moved, standing and moving around the table to where Timaeus still knelt by the body of her eldest child. Her face crumpled, and the sound - Silanos would never forget the sound - grew louder as her hands fluttered over the still and silent form of Nicomedes.
‘No!’ The cry was from Roxana, and she too had jerked to life, standing and attempting to push past Silanos to get to where Nico lay. Face set, he caught hold of her and made himself solid even where she shoved against him. ‘No!’
“HE’S GONE, ROX!” Silanos didn't mean to say it, but once he had, he couldn’t take it back, and he tried to wrap his tongue around the rest of the words, finding himself clinging onto her as much to stay upright as to stop her seeing…
“He’s...dead. He’s dead”
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Nico had felt too heavy. Not like a person but like a sack of grain, immobile and inert. Sil had to dig his fingers in to get a grip on him and move him as Timaeus wanted, and then he just sprawled on the floor, head lolling to the side and his eyes…
They weren’t seeing. Just blank, lifeless. Silanos felt his throat tighten even as the thought crossed his mind, wondered for a moment if he wasn’t going to be sick. With a jerk, he pulled his hands back from that still body, wiped his sweating palms off on his chiton. Swallowing convulsively he looked to Timaeus, flinching back when his brother suddenly began beating on Nico’s chest. The dull thump of flesh striking flesh and then a sickening crunch and Sil spared a glance for the others, his mother’s face ghost white, her hand drawn over her mouth in horror and Roxana staring wide-eyed.
“Tim, please,” he said, not sure what he was asking for. For him to stop that brutal pounding? But he was trying to savehim wasn’t he? If he stopped then that meant…
'Get some water!'
Silanos skittered back a little and scrambled to his feet, panic and the numb feeling in his limbs making him ungainly, but he’d been given something to do. So he leant across the table to grab the stoneware jug of water that sat there and then held it out towards Timaeus uselessly. What was it for? What was he going to do now?
When his brother upended the jug over Nico’s head, Sil began to see his thinking but..Nicomedes hadn’t stirred whilst Tim was whaling on his chest, Sil didn’t see how unless he was…
There was a tense, sharp silence as the family looked on and Sil found himself clutching the back of a chair, grip so tight this skin over his knuckles blanched white. Nothing. There was nothing.
How could there be nothing?
At a loss, he just stared, until a sound rent the silence apart.
A low, almost animalistic keening, Periella finally moved, standing and moving around the table to where Timaeus still knelt by the body of her eldest child. Her face crumpled, and the sound - Silanos would never forget the sound - grew louder as her hands fluttered over the still and silent form of Nicomedes.
‘No!’ The cry was from Roxana, and she too had jerked to life, standing and attempting to push past Silanos to get to where Nico lay. Face set, he caught hold of her and made himself solid even where she shoved against him. ‘No!’
“HE’S GONE, ROX!” Silanos didn't mean to say it, but once he had, he couldn’t take it back, and he tried to wrap his tongue around the rest of the words, finding himself clinging onto her as much to stay upright as to stop her seeing…
“He’s...dead. He’s dead”
Nico had felt too heavy. Not like a person but like a sack of grain, immobile and inert. Sil had to dig his fingers in to get a grip on him and move him as Timaeus wanted, and then he just sprawled on the floor, head lolling to the side and his eyes…
They weren’t seeing. Just blank, lifeless. Silanos felt his throat tighten even as the thought crossed his mind, wondered for a moment if he wasn’t going to be sick. With a jerk, he pulled his hands back from that still body, wiped his sweating palms off on his chiton. Swallowing convulsively he looked to Timaeus, flinching back when his brother suddenly began beating on Nico’s chest. The dull thump of flesh striking flesh and then a sickening crunch and Sil spared a glance for the others, his mother’s face ghost white, her hand drawn over her mouth in horror and Roxana staring wide-eyed.
“Tim, please,” he said, not sure what he was asking for. For him to stop that brutal pounding? But he was trying to savehim wasn’t he? If he stopped then that meant…
'Get some water!'
Silanos skittered back a little and scrambled to his feet, panic and the numb feeling in his limbs making him ungainly, but he’d been given something to do. So he leant across the table to grab the stoneware jug of water that sat there and then held it out towards Timaeus uselessly. What was it for? What was he going to do now?
When his brother upended the jug over Nico’s head, Sil began to see his thinking but..Nicomedes hadn’t stirred whilst Tim was whaling on his chest, Sil didn’t see how unless he was…
There was a tense, sharp silence as the family looked on and Sil found himself clutching the back of a chair, grip so tight this skin over his knuckles blanched white. Nothing. There was nothing.
How could there be nothing?
At a loss, he just stared, until a sound rent the silence apart.
A low, almost animalistic keening, Periella finally moved, standing and moving around the table to where Timaeus still knelt by the body of her eldest child. Her face crumpled, and the sound - Silanos would never forget the sound - grew louder as her hands fluttered over the still and silent form of Nicomedes.
‘No!’ The cry was from Roxana, and she too had jerked to life, standing and attempting to push past Silanos to get to where Nico lay. Face set, he caught hold of her and made himself solid even where she shoved against him. ‘No!’
“HE’S GONE, ROX!” Silanos didn't mean to say it, but once he had, he couldn’t take it back, and he tried to wrap his tongue around the rest of the words, finding himself clinging onto her as much to stay upright as to stop her seeing…
“He’s...dead. He’s dead”
The sheer reality of the situation was beginning to crash into Timaeus all at once. The water puddled uselessly onto the floor, not even triggering the faintest reaction out of the eldest Valaoritis boy. But why should it? Timaeus was already furiously pounding on his brother’s chest, trying to force his heart to beat again. He was pressing down so hard that he was breaking bones for Zeus’s sake, and there was no reaction from the Baron. He did not move. He did not stir. Nor was he going to ever again.
Nico was dead.
It seemed impossible. Nico had always been the strong one. He had always been the one who could set things right so effortlessly that you would think he merely waved his hand and the problem just went away on its own. Well, they needed that now. They needed Nico to wake up and tell them that everything was going to be alright. This had to be some sort of sick prank or if it was real, some sort of health scare that could be recovered from. But how did one recover from being claimed by Thanatos? The simple answer was that they didn’t. The writing was clearly on the wall that the Baron was dead, that no matter how many times they poured water on his face or however long Timaeus frantically hit his chest, this man was not going to take another breath.
That didn’t stop Timaeus’s efforts though. In truth, it was almost as if he couldn’t cease in his efforts to revive his elder brother. His arms moved almost mechanically, pumping as much force as he could into this effort to restart Nico’s heart. It was impossible for Tim to stop, especially now that his mind was growing fuzzy from the exhaustion of his actions and his vision had gone blurry as tears openly fell from his eyes. Normally, Timaeus would have never cried in front of others. That was something that military captains did not do, but the sheer prospect of needing to continue life without his brother being there? There was no way that he was going to be able to hold that back.
A gasping sob erupted from his chest, his breath short and rapid from his lungs’ desperate need to fill themselves with air. In fact, it was so difficult for him to get the air he needed as one action demanded more oxygen while his tears were trying to expel it as quickly as possible. The noises he made were nothing like the soul-piercing cry that came from Periella or the confused shout of Roxana -- but instead came out in short little bursts as he continued his assault on Nico’s chest. The movements never stopped. However, they did slow his mother approached Nico’s corpse, her cries still echoing through the room as she bent down and cried over the body of her dead son. Her grief was so great that she did not even seem to care that Timaeus was still trying to resuscitate Nico. She moved over her son, trying to clutch at his pale face with shaking hands, completely uncaring of the fact that her other son was still pounding on the young man’s chest with all his might. Timaeus tried to form the words to warn her, to tell her to move, but she wasn’t listening. It was only when her grief brought her inadvertently closer to the spot that Tim had been focusing all of his efforts on, did he finally stop. Though it was only out of fear of hitting the woman who had raised him. As much as he wanted Nico back, he would never ever dare hurt his mother to accomplish that goal.
The middle brother fell back to his knees, helplessly watching as Periella clutched to Nico, begging him to come back with a certain fervor that none of the rest of them would ever be able to summon. It was heartbreaking to hear and Timaeus almost turned away from the sound, unable to accept that the same grief that was pulling these almost inhuman sounds from his mother was also coursing through him. He was still openly weeping, but the exhaustion from his actions dulled the severity of his grief. However, when the ache in his muscles passed, this pain wouldn’t. He didn’t know it now but in the years to come, Timaeus would regret how he failed to keep pounding on Nico’s chest until he was physically dragged off of the other man. It was a thought that would plague him for the years to come. If he had only kept trying, would it have worked? Would Nico be here with them now?
However, these things were far from his mind at his moment, he couldn’t bear to think of them while he could see how devastated Periella was. This was his mother, the strongest woman that he had ever known in such severe distress that the only thing that Timaeus could think about was bringing her some sort of comfort -- even if there was to be none in a tragedy like this. As the tears continued to fall, Timaeus climbed to his feet and moved over to the Baronness, and wrapped one arm around her, trying to provide some sort of warmth where Nico could not anymore. Behind him, he could hear Roxana and Sil coming to the same terms that he was still struggling to accept. It was hard to hear Silanos state Nico was truly gone. Timaeus instinctively shook his head at those words but knew it in his heart to be true. Nico was gone. He was gone and he was never coming back.
Time seemed to slow in the horrible moments that passed between the family coming to terms with their brother’s death and the physician arriving. Timaeus looked up as the man hurried into the room, the frantic expression on the outsider’s face made it clear that the messenger who had summoned him did not convey the truth that they all knew now. That changed as the man saw the distraught mother strewn over the body that was growing stiffer and colder by the moment. The panic in his expression faded away to a pitiful sorrow as he took in the scene before his eyes settled on Timaeus, quietly asking the new Baron what he should do if the patient was already dead.
Timaeus wasn’t sure at first why they were all looking to him for what to do next, but then it hit him with all the fury of an arrow being launched by an enemy at war. If Nicomedes was dead, then he was the Baron now. Timaeus was the leader of the family that was now broken beyond repair. It was now his duty to be the glue that held them together… but that had been Nico’s job. He had been the one who was capable of that while Timaeus was the one who relied on that skillset of his brother’s. He didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t want to do this. But he had to. Now that Nico was dead, he had no choice.
That was why he gently tried to urge his mother to stand up even as his own choking sobs hindered any ability to even pretend to be strong right now. “Mother… the doctor… We have to let him…” He couldn’t even form a full sentence amid the incoherent gasps, but it seemed to be enough as Periella reluctantly let go of Nico. However, she refused to rise and thus remained to kneel over the body as the Physician bent down to see if there was anything that he could do. Timaeus himself stood upon shaking feet and moved over to the brother and cousin that were clutching onto each other amid this horrible moment. Timaeus joined them, gripping onto both of them as if his life depended on it. In many ways, it did. Tim didn’t know what was going to happen without Nico there. It seemed like an impossible task, but they were going to have to find a way somehow. It was what Nico would want them to do.
But how the fuck were they could to manage that?
“Sil, take Rox… out of here. She shouldn’t have to see… this.” He gently suggested once he released the two of them. Even though his words of concerned seemed to be focused on the youngest and most fragile of them all, but in reality, Tim thought that maybe Sil should go too so that he might not be forever scarred by the sight of a dead brother. As if they hadn’t just all witnessed the death happen before them. Timaeus didn’t know what he was suggesting. Everything was just so fuzzy and he knew that he had to be here because the Military Captian was the oldest man in the house, even though he didn’t want to do so. He wanted to run far away from this place and pretend that this had never happened. But that wasn’t an option.
Now that he was baron, this was never going to be an option anymore.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The sheer reality of the situation was beginning to crash into Timaeus all at once. The water puddled uselessly onto the floor, not even triggering the faintest reaction out of the eldest Valaoritis boy. But why should it? Timaeus was already furiously pounding on his brother’s chest, trying to force his heart to beat again. He was pressing down so hard that he was breaking bones for Zeus’s sake, and there was no reaction from the Baron. He did not move. He did not stir. Nor was he going to ever again.
Nico was dead.
It seemed impossible. Nico had always been the strong one. He had always been the one who could set things right so effortlessly that you would think he merely waved his hand and the problem just went away on its own. Well, they needed that now. They needed Nico to wake up and tell them that everything was going to be alright. This had to be some sort of sick prank or if it was real, some sort of health scare that could be recovered from. But how did one recover from being claimed by Thanatos? The simple answer was that they didn’t. The writing was clearly on the wall that the Baron was dead, that no matter how many times they poured water on his face or however long Timaeus frantically hit his chest, this man was not going to take another breath.
That didn’t stop Timaeus’s efforts though. In truth, it was almost as if he couldn’t cease in his efforts to revive his elder brother. His arms moved almost mechanically, pumping as much force as he could into this effort to restart Nico’s heart. It was impossible for Tim to stop, especially now that his mind was growing fuzzy from the exhaustion of his actions and his vision had gone blurry as tears openly fell from his eyes. Normally, Timaeus would have never cried in front of others. That was something that military captains did not do, but the sheer prospect of needing to continue life without his brother being there? There was no way that he was going to be able to hold that back.
A gasping sob erupted from his chest, his breath short and rapid from his lungs’ desperate need to fill themselves with air. In fact, it was so difficult for him to get the air he needed as one action demanded more oxygen while his tears were trying to expel it as quickly as possible. The noises he made were nothing like the soul-piercing cry that came from Periella or the confused shout of Roxana -- but instead came out in short little bursts as he continued his assault on Nico’s chest. The movements never stopped. However, they did slow his mother approached Nico’s corpse, her cries still echoing through the room as she bent down and cried over the body of her dead son. Her grief was so great that she did not even seem to care that Timaeus was still trying to resuscitate Nico. She moved over her son, trying to clutch at his pale face with shaking hands, completely uncaring of the fact that her other son was still pounding on the young man’s chest with all his might. Timaeus tried to form the words to warn her, to tell her to move, but she wasn’t listening. It was only when her grief brought her inadvertently closer to the spot that Tim had been focusing all of his efforts on, did he finally stop. Though it was only out of fear of hitting the woman who had raised him. As much as he wanted Nico back, he would never ever dare hurt his mother to accomplish that goal.
The middle brother fell back to his knees, helplessly watching as Periella clutched to Nico, begging him to come back with a certain fervor that none of the rest of them would ever be able to summon. It was heartbreaking to hear and Timaeus almost turned away from the sound, unable to accept that the same grief that was pulling these almost inhuman sounds from his mother was also coursing through him. He was still openly weeping, but the exhaustion from his actions dulled the severity of his grief. However, when the ache in his muscles passed, this pain wouldn’t. He didn’t know it now but in the years to come, Timaeus would regret how he failed to keep pounding on Nico’s chest until he was physically dragged off of the other man. It was a thought that would plague him for the years to come. If he had only kept trying, would it have worked? Would Nico be here with them now?
However, these things were far from his mind at his moment, he couldn’t bear to think of them while he could see how devastated Periella was. This was his mother, the strongest woman that he had ever known in such severe distress that the only thing that Timaeus could think about was bringing her some sort of comfort -- even if there was to be none in a tragedy like this. As the tears continued to fall, Timaeus climbed to his feet and moved over to the Baronness, and wrapped one arm around her, trying to provide some sort of warmth where Nico could not anymore. Behind him, he could hear Roxana and Sil coming to the same terms that he was still struggling to accept. It was hard to hear Silanos state Nico was truly gone. Timaeus instinctively shook his head at those words but knew it in his heart to be true. Nico was gone. He was gone and he was never coming back.
Time seemed to slow in the horrible moments that passed between the family coming to terms with their brother’s death and the physician arriving. Timaeus looked up as the man hurried into the room, the frantic expression on the outsider’s face made it clear that the messenger who had summoned him did not convey the truth that they all knew now. That changed as the man saw the distraught mother strewn over the body that was growing stiffer and colder by the moment. The panic in his expression faded away to a pitiful sorrow as he took in the scene before his eyes settled on Timaeus, quietly asking the new Baron what he should do if the patient was already dead.
Timaeus wasn’t sure at first why they were all looking to him for what to do next, but then it hit him with all the fury of an arrow being launched by an enemy at war. If Nicomedes was dead, then he was the Baron now. Timaeus was the leader of the family that was now broken beyond repair. It was now his duty to be the glue that held them together… but that had been Nico’s job. He had been the one who was capable of that while Timaeus was the one who relied on that skillset of his brother’s. He didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t want to do this. But he had to. Now that Nico was dead, he had no choice.
That was why he gently tried to urge his mother to stand up even as his own choking sobs hindered any ability to even pretend to be strong right now. “Mother… the doctor… We have to let him…” He couldn’t even form a full sentence amid the incoherent gasps, but it seemed to be enough as Periella reluctantly let go of Nico. However, she refused to rise and thus remained to kneel over the body as the Physician bent down to see if there was anything that he could do. Timaeus himself stood upon shaking feet and moved over to the brother and cousin that were clutching onto each other amid this horrible moment. Timaeus joined them, gripping onto both of them as if his life depended on it. In many ways, it did. Tim didn’t know what was going to happen without Nico there. It seemed like an impossible task, but they were going to have to find a way somehow. It was what Nico would want them to do.
But how the fuck were they could to manage that?
“Sil, take Rox… out of here. She shouldn’t have to see… this.” He gently suggested once he released the two of them. Even though his words of concerned seemed to be focused on the youngest and most fragile of them all, but in reality, Tim thought that maybe Sil should go too so that he might not be forever scarred by the sight of a dead brother. As if they hadn’t just all witnessed the death happen before them. Timaeus didn’t know what he was suggesting. Everything was just so fuzzy and he knew that he had to be here because the Military Captian was the oldest man in the house, even though he didn’t want to do so. He wanted to run far away from this place and pretend that this had never happened. But that wasn’t an option.
Now that he was baron, this was never going to be an option anymore.
The sheer reality of the situation was beginning to crash into Timaeus all at once. The water puddled uselessly onto the floor, not even triggering the faintest reaction out of the eldest Valaoritis boy. But why should it? Timaeus was already furiously pounding on his brother’s chest, trying to force his heart to beat again. He was pressing down so hard that he was breaking bones for Zeus’s sake, and there was no reaction from the Baron. He did not move. He did not stir. Nor was he going to ever again.
Nico was dead.
It seemed impossible. Nico had always been the strong one. He had always been the one who could set things right so effortlessly that you would think he merely waved his hand and the problem just went away on its own. Well, they needed that now. They needed Nico to wake up and tell them that everything was going to be alright. This had to be some sort of sick prank or if it was real, some sort of health scare that could be recovered from. But how did one recover from being claimed by Thanatos? The simple answer was that they didn’t. The writing was clearly on the wall that the Baron was dead, that no matter how many times they poured water on his face or however long Timaeus frantically hit his chest, this man was not going to take another breath.
That didn’t stop Timaeus’s efforts though. In truth, it was almost as if he couldn’t cease in his efforts to revive his elder brother. His arms moved almost mechanically, pumping as much force as he could into this effort to restart Nico’s heart. It was impossible for Tim to stop, especially now that his mind was growing fuzzy from the exhaustion of his actions and his vision had gone blurry as tears openly fell from his eyes. Normally, Timaeus would have never cried in front of others. That was something that military captains did not do, but the sheer prospect of needing to continue life without his brother being there? There was no way that he was going to be able to hold that back.
A gasping sob erupted from his chest, his breath short and rapid from his lungs’ desperate need to fill themselves with air. In fact, it was so difficult for him to get the air he needed as one action demanded more oxygen while his tears were trying to expel it as quickly as possible. The noises he made were nothing like the soul-piercing cry that came from Periella or the confused shout of Roxana -- but instead came out in short little bursts as he continued his assault on Nico’s chest. The movements never stopped. However, they did slow his mother approached Nico’s corpse, her cries still echoing through the room as she bent down and cried over the body of her dead son. Her grief was so great that she did not even seem to care that Timaeus was still trying to resuscitate Nico. She moved over her son, trying to clutch at his pale face with shaking hands, completely uncaring of the fact that her other son was still pounding on the young man’s chest with all his might. Timaeus tried to form the words to warn her, to tell her to move, but she wasn’t listening. It was only when her grief brought her inadvertently closer to the spot that Tim had been focusing all of his efforts on, did he finally stop. Though it was only out of fear of hitting the woman who had raised him. As much as he wanted Nico back, he would never ever dare hurt his mother to accomplish that goal.
The middle brother fell back to his knees, helplessly watching as Periella clutched to Nico, begging him to come back with a certain fervor that none of the rest of them would ever be able to summon. It was heartbreaking to hear and Timaeus almost turned away from the sound, unable to accept that the same grief that was pulling these almost inhuman sounds from his mother was also coursing through him. He was still openly weeping, but the exhaustion from his actions dulled the severity of his grief. However, when the ache in his muscles passed, this pain wouldn’t. He didn’t know it now but in the years to come, Timaeus would regret how he failed to keep pounding on Nico’s chest until he was physically dragged off of the other man. It was a thought that would plague him for the years to come. If he had only kept trying, would it have worked? Would Nico be here with them now?
However, these things were far from his mind at his moment, he couldn’t bear to think of them while he could see how devastated Periella was. This was his mother, the strongest woman that he had ever known in such severe distress that the only thing that Timaeus could think about was bringing her some sort of comfort -- even if there was to be none in a tragedy like this. As the tears continued to fall, Timaeus climbed to his feet and moved over to the Baronness, and wrapped one arm around her, trying to provide some sort of warmth where Nico could not anymore. Behind him, he could hear Roxana and Sil coming to the same terms that he was still struggling to accept. It was hard to hear Silanos state Nico was truly gone. Timaeus instinctively shook his head at those words but knew it in his heart to be true. Nico was gone. He was gone and he was never coming back.
Time seemed to slow in the horrible moments that passed between the family coming to terms with their brother’s death and the physician arriving. Timaeus looked up as the man hurried into the room, the frantic expression on the outsider’s face made it clear that the messenger who had summoned him did not convey the truth that they all knew now. That changed as the man saw the distraught mother strewn over the body that was growing stiffer and colder by the moment. The panic in his expression faded away to a pitiful sorrow as he took in the scene before his eyes settled on Timaeus, quietly asking the new Baron what he should do if the patient was already dead.
Timaeus wasn’t sure at first why they were all looking to him for what to do next, but then it hit him with all the fury of an arrow being launched by an enemy at war. If Nicomedes was dead, then he was the Baron now. Timaeus was the leader of the family that was now broken beyond repair. It was now his duty to be the glue that held them together… but that had been Nico’s job. He had been the one who was capable of that while Timaeus was the one who relied on that skillset of his brother’s. He didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t want to do this. But he had to. Now that Nico was dead, he had no choice.
That was why he gently tried to urge his mother to stand up even as his own choking sobs hindered any ability to even pretend to be strong right now. “Mother… the doctor… We have to let him…” He couldn’t even form a full sentence amid the incoherent gasps, but it seemed to be enough as Periella reluctantly let go of Nico. However, she refused to rise and thus remained to kneel over the body as the Physician bent down to see if there was anything that he could do. Timaeus himself stood upon shaking feet and moved over to the brother and cousin that were clutching onto each other amid this horrible moment. Timaeus joined them, gripping onto both of them as if his life depended on it. In many ways, it did. Tim didn’t know what was going to happen without Nico there. It seemed like an impossible task, but they were going to have to find a way somehow. It was what Nico would want them to do.
But how the fuck were they could to manage that?
“Sil, take Rox… out of here. She shouldn’t have to see… this.” He gently suggested once he released the two of them. Even though his words of concerned seemed to be focused on the youngest and most fragile of them all, but in reality, Tim thought that maybe Sil should go too so that he might not be forever scarred by the sight of a dead brother. As if they hadn’t just all witnessed the death happen before them. Timaeus didn’t know what he was suggesting. Everything was just so fuzzy and he knew that he had to be here because the Military Captian was the oldest man in the house, even though he didn’t want to do so. He wanted to run far away from this place and pretend that this had never happened. But that wasn’t an option.
Now that he was baron, this was never going to be an option anymore.
Sil didn’t cry. Didn’t sob like Timaeus was doing, didn’t crumple into a heap like his mother where she knelt by Nico’s side. There was a knot lodged somewhere between his throat and his chest, heavy and solid, so it was a struggle to breathe past it, and his nostrils flared as he tried. His expression was set and frozen until he was forced to turn away from the image of his eldest brother and instead face Roxana, the girl’s face streaked with tears, her disbelief evident even as he held her and kept her back from the...from the body.
Because he realised slowly through a fuzzy head, that's what it was. Not Nico. Not anymore.
“Stop it” Sil ground out harshly as Roxana shoved against him once more, but his hands were gentle where they held onto her upper arms, and a moment later he’d pulled her into a hug and the girl dissolved into tears then.
The physician’s arrival might have been cause for renewed hope, but Silanos knew with a sickening certainty that he was too late. There were no tinctures nor remedies that would revive his brave and kind older brother; the baron was dead.
The ramifications of that fluttered at the edge of his awareness, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not with the cold, heavy weight of death still there in the room with them. Perhaps Timaeus thought more about it, for his sibling seemed to have adopted some sort of stance of leadership calling out to him.
‘Sil, take Rox… out of here. She shouldn’t have to see… this.’
For once, the youngest did not argue or protest at being told what to do. Rather he locked gazes with his brother for a moment, his expression more than a little lost until he processed what the other said and then Sil nodded. With little fanfare, he shepherded Roxana out into the hallway and shepherded to a bench where one of the ladies maids was immediately at her side. Silanos stepped away and ran a hand through his hair, heaved a breath, then felt terrible that he was so glad to be free of that room.
“Stop standing around gawking” he snapped at the servants who had gathered, their faces drawn with worry. Nicomedes had been well-loved by them also. “It’ s not going to bring him back, he’s dead!”
To his horror, Sil’s voice cracked on the last word, and he clapped a hand over his mouth because it was like he couldn’t stop saying it, and then his shoulders were shaking, and his eyes were blurred with salt. It was the old cook who moved first to the young lord’s side, ignoring propriety to wrap her arms around the boy she’d known since he was a babe. Silanos let her, folded against her like he didn’t tower over by a head, and then he cried.
Too soon on the heels of losing his father, Thanos had slipped into the halls of the Valaoritis manor and claimed yet another of their rank and Sil didn’t know how they were supposed to do without Nico, what it all meant. Nothing would be the same ever again.
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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Sil didn’t cry. Didn’t sob like Timaeus was doing, didn’t crumple into a heap like his mother where she knelt by Nico’s side. There was a knot lodged somewhere between his throat and his chest, heavy and solid, so it was a struggle to breathe past it, and his nostrils flared as he tried. His expression was set and frozen until he was forced to turn away from the image of his eldest brother and instead face Roxana, the girl’s face streaked with tears, her disbelief evident even as he held her and kept her back from the...from the body.
Because he realised slowly through a fuzzy head, that's what it was. Not Nico. Not anymore.
“Stop it” Sil ground out harshly as Roxana shoved against him once more, but his hands were gentle where they held onto her upper arms, and a moment later he’d pulled her into a hug and the girl dissolved into tears then.
The physician’s arrival might have been cause for renewed hope, but Silanos knew with a sickening certainty that he was too late. There were no tinctures nor remedies that would revive his brave and kind older brother; the baron was dead.
The ramifications of that fluttered at the edge of his awareness, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not with the cold, heavy weight of death still there in the room with them. Perhaps Timaeus thought more about it, for his sibling seemed to have adopted some sort of stance of leadership calling out to him.
‘Sil, take Rox… out of here. She shouldn’t have to see… this.’
For once, the youngest did not argue or protest at being told what to do. Rather he locked gazes with his brother for a moment, his expression more than a little lost until he processed what the other said and then Sil nodded. With little fanfare, he shepherded Roxana out into the hallway and shepherded to a bench where one of the ladies maids was immediately at her side. Silanos stepped away and ran a hand through his hair, heaved a breath, then felt terrible that he was so glad to be free of that room.
“Stop standing around gawking” he snapped at the servants who had gathered, their faces drawn with worry. Nicomedes had been well-loved by them also. “It’ s not going to bring him back, he’s dead!”
To his horror, Sil’s voice cracked on the last word, and he clapped a hand over his mouth because it was like he couldn’t stop saying it, and then his shoulders were shaking, and his eyes were blurred with salt. It was the old cook who moved first to the young lord’s side, ignoring propriety to wrap her arms around the boy she’d known since he was a babe. Silanos let her, folded against her like he didn’t tower over by a head, and then he cried.
Too soon on the heels of losing his father, Thanos had slipped into the halls of the Valaoritis manor and claimed yet another of their rank and Sil didn’t know how they were supposed to do without Nico, what it all meant. Nothing would be the same ever again.
Sil didn’t cry. Didn’t sob like Timaeus was doing, didn’t crumple into a heap like his mother where she knelt by Nico’s side. There was a knot lodged somewhere between his throat and his chest, heavy and solid, so it was a struggle to breathe past it, and his nostrils flared as he tried. His expression was set and frozen until he was forced to turn away from the image of his eldest brother and instead face Roxana, the girl’s face streaked with tears, her disbelief evident even as he held her and kept her back from the...from the body.
Because he realised slowly through a fuzzy head, that's what it was. Not Nico. Not anymore.
“Stop it” Sil ground out harshly as Roxana shoved against him once more, but his hands were gentle where they held onto her upper arms, and a moment later he’d pulled her into a hug and the girl dissolved into tears then.
The physician’s arrival might have been cause for renewed hope, but Silanos knew with a sickening certainty that he was too late. There were no tinctures nor remedies that would revive his brave and kind older brother; the baron was dead.
The ramifications of that fluttered at the edge of his awareness, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Not with the cold, heavy weight of death still there in the room with them. Perhaps Timaeus thought more about it, for his sibling seemed to have adopted some sort of stance of leadership calling out to him.
‘Sil, take Rox… out of here. She shouldn’t have to see… this.’
For once, the youngest did not argue or protest at being told what to do. Rather he locked gazes with his brother for a moment, his expression more than a little lost until he processed what the other said and then Sil nodded. With little fanfare, he shepherded Roxana out into the hallway and shepherded to a bench where one of the ladies maids was immediately at her side. Silanos stepped away and ran a hand through his hair, heaved a breath, then felt terrible that he was so glad to be free of that room.
“Stop standing around gawking” he snapped at the servants who had gathered, their faces drawn with worry. Nicomedes had been well-loved by them also. “It’ s not going to bring him back, he’s dead!”
To his horror, Sil’s voice cracked on the last word, and he clapped a hand over his mouth because it was like he couldn’t stop saying it, and then his shoulders were shaking, and his eyes were blurred with salt. It was the old cook who moved first to the young lord’s side, ignoring propriety to wrap her arms around the boy she’d known since he was a babe. Silanos let her, folded against her like he didn’t tower over by a head, and then he cried.
Too soon on the heels of losing his father, Thanos had slipped into the halls of the Valaoritis manor and claimed yet another of their rank and Sil didn’t know how they were supposed to do without Nico, what it all meant. Nothing would be the same ever again.
