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Vangelis didn't have any words that would calm Selene. Because there weren't really any that existed. He couldn't tell her how she was supposed to accept the death of a loved one because, in truth, you just did. With time and familiarity with the idea. Each time they were missing at a dinner table or a roll call or a military expedition, it hurt just a little less. You never really moved on. The world moved on around you and you grew to accept it. But that wasn't what Selene wanted or needed to hear right now. She wanted him to tell her it would be alright, that her sister would be fine. Or that Olympia's death was no reflection on her and her failings. Which was truth but a truth that was hard for any first born to swallow. Vangelis had been through the fear of losing a brother. He had almost lost Zanon a few years back and he had not been consolable in his determination that it was all his own fault. It was a burden of the first born. Everything was your responsibility. All of your siblings - yours to care for. Whether you had the ability to do so or not. Whether you were responsible for the dangers they got themselves into or not. It didn't matter. You were the eldest, so you protected your kin.
Unable to offer her the words she needed to hear that would be pure fallacy and false hope if he let them breech his lips, Selene seemed to read something in his face - something which he thought might be understanding and empathy. And then suddenly she was falling into him. Opening his arms on instinct to create an open space for her against his chest, Vangelis felt the woman collapse against him, the top of her head barely reaching passed his collarbone as his frame engulfed hers.
A man unused to physical contact that wasn't violent, he might be. But Vangelis was not the statue that everyone claimed him to be. And whilst he froze with shock for a moment at Selene's sudden nearness, he was quick to adjust and react. The large wingspan of his arms folded around Selene's back giving her just enough pressure that he was holding her close, without forcing her any nearer than she chose to be. He didn't drop his head to the top of hers or to her shoulder, and instead just tilted his jaw so that he could watch her a moment, as one arm remained curled around the small of her back and the other trailed up her back and beneath the long, flowing curls of her hair.
He moved purely on natural whim as the rough pads of his fingertips found the back of Selene's neck. He rubbed and stroked as the velvety soft skin, a small and calming massage against her nape. Her hair fell over his bare arm and he was reminded again of how soft the silken tendrils were against his skin. Everything about this woman was like silk. Not that he had ever had great cause to realise it. She held herself with such strength it had never dawned on him that she could be as equally soft as she was powerful.
Vangelis said nothing as he offered her the comfort she sought. Not for several long minutes as he let her loose her emotions a little against his chest. He couldn't tell if she was actually crying, gasping for air because her emotions had leech it from her lungs, or just sniffling against the desire to bawl. Either way she was not of her usual calm countenance, which meant that Vangelis had no issues at all with allowing her to hide away in his chest for a few minutes before she could draw upon her emotional reserves.
"It is not about acceptance." He told her as he rubbed at her neck and his finger splayed wide across the small of her back. "It is about choosing to do what is logical and best for yourself and family. You say that your risking journeying to the Styx with Olympia is a sacrifice you are willing to make... Do you think Olympia would be willing for you to make it? Do you think she'll be thankful as you join her to pay Charon's fare?" He paused for a moment to let that idea sink in. "It is noble to offer up your life when there are no other options, Selene. But it can be just as great a show of devotion to survive to fight the next battle, that your sister could not live to see..."
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Vangelis didn't have any words that would calm Selene. Because there weren't really any that existed. He couldn't tell her how she was supposed to accept the death of a loved one because, in truth, you just did. With time and familiarity with the idea. Each time they were missing at a dinner table or a roll call or a military expedition, it hurt just a little less. You never really moved on. The world moved on around you and you grew to accept it. But that wasn't what Selene wanted or needed to hear right now. She wanted him to tell her it would be alright, that her sister would be fine. Or that Olympia's death was no reflection on her and her failings. Which was truth but a truth that was hard for any first born to swallow. Vangelis had been through the fear of losing a brother. He had almost lost Zanon a few years back and he had not been consolable in his determination that it was all his own fault. It was a burden of the first born. Everything was your responsibility. All of your siblings - yours to care for. Whether you had the ability to do so or not. Whether you were responsible for the dangers they got themselves into or not. It didn't matter. You were the eldest, so you protected your kin.
Unable to offer her the words she needed to hear that would be pure fallacy and false hope if he let them breech his lips, Selene seemed to read something in his face - something which he thought might be understanding and empathy. And then suddenly she was falling into him. Opening his arms on instinct to create an open space for her against his chest, Vangelis felt the woman collapse against him, the top of her head barely reaching passed his collarbone as his frame engulfed hers.
A man unused to physical contact that wasn't violent, he might be. But Vangelis was not the statue that everyone claimed him to be. And whilst he froze with shock for a moment at Selene's sudden nearness, he was quick to adjust and react. The large wingspan of his arms folded around Selene's back giving her just enough pressure that he was holding her close, without forcing her any nearer than she chose to be. He didn't drop his head to the top of hers or to her shoulder, and instead just tilted his jaw so that he could watch her a moment, as one arm remained curled around the small of her back and the other trailed up her back and beneath the long, flowing curls of her hair.
He moved purely on natural whim as the rough pads of his fingertips found the back of Selene's neck. He rubbed and stroked as the velvety soft skin, a small and calming massage against her nape. Her hair fell over his bare arm and he was reminded again of how soft the silken tendrils were against his skin. Everything about this woman was like silk. Not that he had ever had great cause to realise it. She held herself with such strength it had never dawned on him that she could be as equally soft as she was powerful.
Vangelis said nothing as he offered her the comfort she sought. Not for several long minutes as he let her loose her emotions a little against his chest. He couldn't tell if she was actually crying, gasping for air because her emotions had leech it from her lungs, or just sniffling against the desire to bawl. Either way she was not of her usual calm countenance, which meant that Vangelis had no issues at all with allowing her to hide away in his chest for a few minutes before she could draw upon her emotional reserves.
"It is not about acceptance." He told her as he rubbed at her neck and his finger splayed wide across the small of her back. "It is about choosing to do what is logical and best for yourself and family. You say that your risking journeying to the Styx with Olympia is a sacrifice you are willing to make... Do you think Olympia would be willing for you to make it? Do you think she'll be thankful as you join her to pay Charon's fare?" He paused for a moment to let that idea sink in. "It is noble to offer up your life when there are no other options, Selene. But it can be just as great a show of devotion to survive to fight the next battle, that your sister could not live to see..."
Vangelis didn't have any words that would calm Selene. Because there weren't really any that existed. He couldn't tell her how she was supposed to accept the death of a loved one because, in truth, you just did. With time and familiarity with the idea. Each time they were missing at a dinner table or a roll call or a military expedition, it hurt just a little less. You never really moved on. The world moved on around you and you grew to accept it. But that wasn't what Selene wanted or needed to hear right now. She wanted him to tell her it would be alright, that her sister would be fine. Or that Olympia's death was no reflection on her and her failings. Which was truth but a truth that was hard for any first born to swallow. Vangelis had been through the fear of losing a brother. He had almost lost Zanon a few years back and he had not been consolable in his determination that it was all his own fault. It was a burden of the first born. Everything was your responsibility. All of your siblings - yours to care for. Whether you had the ability to do so or not. Whether you were responsible for the dangers they got themselves into or not. It didn't matter. You were the eldest, so you protected your kin.
Unable to offer her the words she needed to hear that would be pure fallacy and false hope if he let them breech his lips, Selene seemed to read something in his face - something which he thought might be understanding and empathy. And then suddenly she was falling into him. Opening his arms on instinct to create an open space for her against his chest, Vangelis felt the woman collapse against him, the top of her head barely reaching passed his collarbone as his frame engulfed hers.
A man unused to physical contact that wasn't violent, he might be. But Vangelis was not the statue that everyone claimed him to be. And whilst he froze with shock for a moment at Selene's sudden nearness, he was quick to adjust and react. The large wingspan of his arms folded around Selene's back giving her just enough pressure that he was holding her close, without forcing her any nearer than she chose to be. He didn't drop his head to the top of hers or to her shoulder, and instead just tilted his jaw so that he could watch her a moment, as one arm remained curled around the small of her back and the other trailed up her back and beneath the long, flowing curls of her hair.
He moved purely on natural whim as the rough pads of his fingertips found the back of Selene's neck. He rubbed and stroked as the velvety soft skin, a small and calming massage against her nape. Her hair fell over his bare arm and he was reminded again of how soft the silken tendrils were against his skin. Everything about this woman was like silk. Not that he had ever had great cause to realise it. She held herself with such strength it had never dawned on him that she could be as equally soft as she was powerful.
Vangelis said nothing as he offered her the comfort she sought. Not for several long minutes as he let her loose her emotions a little against his chest. He couldn't tell if she was actually crying, gasping for air because her emotions had leech it from her lungs, or just sniffling against the desire to bawl. Either way she was not of her usual calm countenance, which meant that Vangelis had no issues at all with allowing her to hide away in his chest for a few minutes before she could draw upon her emotional reserves.
"It is not about acceptance." He told her as he rubbed at her neck and his finger splayed wide across the small of her back. "It is about choosing to do what is logical and best for yourself and family. You say that your risking journeying to the Styx with Olympia is a sacrifice you are willing to make... Do you think Olympia would be willing for you to make it? Do you think she'll be thankful as you join her to pay Charon's fare?" He paused for a moment to let that idea sink in. "It is noble to offer up your life when there are no other options, Selene. But it can be just as great a show of devotion to survive to fight the next battle, that your sister could not live to see..."
For all the hate she held in her heart for the situation, there had been a reason she had asked Vangelis specific for his assistance. The man knew the burden of being the first born. And while she wasn’t a prince, and didn’t have the duties that came with taking up the crown, he did perfectly understand what being the eldest meant. And could appreciate the parallels in their roles. Even now, she had been given a sister to look after, at a party where she should have been allowed to just enjoy herself. From the time Theo joined the family, her duty was clear— look after the sisters. And with his own birth order and size of family, no one understood it like he did. And perhaps that was one of the reasons they got alone so well. While her duty may not have been as important as his, they both had been born with a similar task, to protect the rest.
After Pia’s death, the similarities would stop there.
She felt so utterly raw against him, not quite crying but dissolved in quite grief. None of this made any sense to her at all. Pia shouldn’t be the one waiting in the gallows. She shouldn’t be queen. Zenon and Zacharias shouldn’t be dead. And she certainly shouldn’t be mourning their deaths. And yet, that was the only option he was suggesting. Deep down, she knew him to be correct. There wasn’t anything she could do, and trying would bring down everything her father had worked so hard to build. If she attempted to defy Irakles and intervene, her fate and that of her family would be sealed. It would do none of them any good if she tried to simply save the life on her sister
And yet, it was still her sister. And she was certain the plan Alastair had suggested would do the job.
Her grief was so great that she couldn’t even focus on the incredibly intimate comfort Vangelis was providing. She seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms, their warmth and strength exactly what her broken heart needed. As his arms wrapped around her, it was almost second nature to allow her head to fall in the crook that was created against his chest. Her hands pressed against his torso grabbed the material of his chiton with a fierce need for something to hold onto. She found herself slightly hyperventilating at the realization that no one could save them. And yet, as quickly as the storm of emotions overcame her, it was settled by the steady beat of his heart against her ear.
She listened to what he had to say, trying to focus her brain on rationality and not the desperation she had come to him with. But it felt pointless to try— Selene did not like where his suggestion led. ”What battle is worth fighting without the one who supported you the loudest? Who understood your pain the most?” Her voice was small, far more calm that she had been before. But it was filled with sorrow and grief, from a hopelessness that had never existed in her heart until now. ”I cannot believe that there is no solution. And you cannot tell me that this is how you would take it if it was your family.” She stepped back enough that she could look at him, really see his face when he responded. ”Would you just stand by and do nothing if it was your sister married to Stephanos? Headed for a certain, unavoidable death?”
If he said yes, she could leave knowing that his advice was at least that of an honest man. But if he said otherwise, Selene knew she had to continue down the path of recklessness.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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For all the hate she held in her heart for the situation, there had been a reason she had asked Vangelis specific for his assistance. The man knew the burden of being the first born. And while she wasn’t a prince, and didn’t have the duties that came with taking up the crown, he did perfectly understand what being the eldest meant. And could appreciate the parallels in their roles. Even now, she had been given a sister to look after, at a party where she should have been allowed to just enjoy herself. From the time Theo joined the family, her duty was clear— look after the sisters. And with his own birth order and size of family, no one understood it like he did. And perhaps that was one of the reasons they got alone so well. While her duty may not have been as important as his, they both had been born with a similar task, to protect the rest.
After Pia’s death, the similarities would stop there.
She felt so utterly raw against him, not quite crying but dissolved in quite grief. None of this made any sense to her at all. Pia shouldn’t be the one waiting in the gallows. She shouldn’t be queen. Zenon and Zacharias shouldn’t be dead. And she certainly shouldn’t be mourning their deaths. And yet, that was the only option he was suggesting. Deep down, she knew him to be correct. There wasn’t anything she could do, and trying would bring down everything her father had worked so hard to build. If she attempted to defy Irakles and intervene, her fate and that of her family would be sealed. It would do none of them any good if she tried to simply save the life on her sister
And yet, it was still her sister. And she was certain the plan Alastair had suggested would do the job.
Her grief was so great that she couldn’t even focus on the incredibly intimate comfort Vangelis was providing. She seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms, their warmth and strength exactly what her broken heart needed. As his arms wrapped around her, it was almost second nature to allow her head to fall in the crook that was created against his chest. Her hands pressed against his torso grabbed the material of his chiton with a fierce need for something to hold onto. She found herself slightly hyperventilating at the realization that no one could save them. And yet, as quickly as the storm of emotions overcame her, it was settled by the steady beat of his heart against her ear.
She listened to what he had to say, trying to focus her brain on rationality and not the desperation she had come to him with. But it felt pointless to try— Selene did not like where his suggestion led. ”What battle is worth fighting without the one who supported you the loudest? Who understood your pain the most?” Her voice was small, far more calm that she had been before. But it was filled with sorrow and grief, from a hopelessness that had never existed in her heart until now. ”I cannot believe that there is no solution. And you cannot tell me that this is how you would take it if it was your family.” She stepped back enough that she could look at him, really see his face when he responded. ”Would you just stand by and do nothing if it was your sister married to Stephanos? Headed for a certain, unavoidable death?”
If he said yes, she could leave knowing that his advice was at least that of an honest man. But if he said otherwise, Selene knew she had to continue down the path of recklessness.
For all the hate she held in her heart for the situation, there had been a reason she had asked Vangelis specific for his assistance. The man knew the burden of being the first born. And while she wasn’t a prince, and didn’t have the duties that came with taking up the crown, he did perfectly understand what being the eldest meant. And could appreciate the parallels in their roles. Even now, she had been given a sister to look after, at a party where she should have been allowed to just enjoy herself. From the time Theo joined the family, her duty was clear— look after the sisters. And with his own birth order and size of family, no one understood it like he did. And perhaps that was one of the reasons they got alone so well. While her duty may not have been as important as his, they both had been born with a similar task, to protect the rest.
After Pia’s death, the similarities would stop there.
She felt so utterly raw against him, not quite crying but dissolved in quite grief. None of this made any sense to her at all. Pia shouldn’t be the one waiting in the gallows. She shouldn’t be queen. Zenon and Zacharias shouldn’t be dead. And she certainly shouldn’t be mourning their deaths. And yet, that was the only option he was suggesting. Deep down, she knew him to be correct. There wasn’t anything she could do, and trying would bring down everything her father had worked so hard to build. If she attempted to defy Irakles and intervene, her fate and that of her family would be sealed. It would do none of them any good if she tried to simply save the life on her sister
And yet, it was still her sister. And she was certain the plan Alastair had suggested would do the job.
Her grief was so great that she couldn’t even focus on the incredibly intimate comfort Vangelis was providing. She seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms, their warmth and strength exactly what her broken heart needed. As his arms wrapped around her, it was almost second nature to allow her head to fall in the crook that was created against his chest. Her hands pressed against his torso grabbed the material of his chiton with a fierce need for something to hold onto. She found herself slightly hyperventilating at the realization that no one could save them. And yet, as quickly as the storm of emotions overcame her, it was settled by the steady beat of his heart against her ear.
She listened to what he had to say, trying to focus her brain on rationality and not the desperation she had come to him with. But it felt pointless to try— Selene did not like where his suggestion led. ”What battle is worth fighting without the one who supported you the loudest? Who understood your pain the most?” Her voice was small, far more calm that she had been before. But it was filled with sorrow and grief, from a hopelessness that had never existed in her heart until now. ”I cannot believe that there is no solution. And you cannot tell me that this is how you would take it if it was your family.” She stepped back enough that she could look at him, really see his face when he responded. ”Would you just stand by and do nothing if it was your sister married to Stephanos? Headed for a certain, unavoidable death?”
If he said yes, she could leave knowing that his advice was at least that of an honest man. But if he said otherwise, Selene knew she had to continue down the path of recklessness.
Vangelis wasn't really thinking all that much, as he held Selene close. He knew there wasn't much more to say than he had already and he knew that the situation was an impossible one to find peace with. He also knew that he wasn't exactly the best person in the world for emotional support and understanding and didn't want to risk making the situation worse (as, apparently, he was prone to do with Selene, if their last meeting alone was anything to go by). He, therefore, did little but continue to hold her as he did, soothing the back of her neck and giving her something solid to lean against in her moment of weakness. The fact that it happened to be his chest and frame, wasn't an issue or a significance to him. He just knew that it was something that was needed that he was able to provide.
As such, his thoughts turned the minutiae of their situation, rather than what he could be doing differently. He felt the rise and fall of Selene's chest against his own - fast and harried at first and starting to go a little calmer. From their height difference, he felt the thudding of her heart pressed against his lower ribs. He felt the wisps of her hair brush against skin where his chiton was hemmed just below his neck. He sensed just as much as heard the vibrations of her words, spoken against his body. He rubbed a comforting and perhaps a little too efficient or rhythmic of a hand up and down the silk of her gown.
"The one that avenges their death." He answered simply to her first question. But, whilst Selene was calmer now and clearly open to listening to him a little more, he wasn't convinced his words were getting through the fog of grief and determination. Especially when she turned the logic upon him and asked him what he would do if it was his own sister in such a situation. She had backed away to ask the question, as if to witness his reactions to it first hand, instinctively knowing it to be her trump card in the argument, his fingers falling away from the back of her neck, the palm on the small of her back naturally moving around to her side, where abraded palm met bare skin. He quickly dropped his touch away entirely.
When she asked him what he would do if it were Athanasia who was married to Stephanos right now; if it was his sister due to be murdered without crime, he was tempted to argue that he would never be stupid enough to allow his sister to marry into a family with such deviations of loyalty. But the remark would have been tart and not respectful to what she was asking him. Plus, the image of his sister was too easy to draw to mind and the imagined scenario filled his head quickly, regardless of likelihood.
He opened his mouth to determine that yes, he would have walked away. That he would not have risked Colchis for anything. That he was crown prince first and brother second. That he was his rank before he was his own person. That his choices weren't his own. His lips parted to make that defiant statement of certainty and yet no words came out. The hand he had lifted with an index finger out straight to accompany his confirmation lowered a few inches, suddenly unsure. His stare turned inward for a moment. His mouth closed, his gaze turned away. Selene appeared to want to press him but he held up a quieting hand, his other moving to his lips as he was clearly dawning on a new idea. He frowned, his gaze turned dark. His jaw tightened and seemed to pop just in front of his ear as he continued to give Selene his profile as he thought. He then moved his gaze from sideways to down, his low lip being worked by his thumb and forefinger as he considered something.
He glanced up at Selene, his stare considering and very intense. It shifted from thoughtful, to determined, to considerate, to downright angry. All of it boring into Selene's eyes as if he were trying to make some form of decision about her, some measurement of worth. Eventually, he looked away again, almost dismissively as he took one very calming inhale and a slow exhale.
He nodded.
"I can do it." He told her, without any explanation for his sudden one-eighty of opinion. When he looked at her again, his face was as expressionless and calm as it had always been but there was a tinge of distance about it now. "I can get your sister and Stephanos out." He told her, keeping his voice low in case of wandering eavesdroppers at either end of the corridor. His nostrils flared, he rubbed his hand over the lower half of his face and then he nodded again. "I can do it tonight." Taking a step back from her as if not wanting to make contact after such a decision, Vangelis turned towards the end of the gallery they had come from, his tone and body language suggesting the conversation to be over. That he had made his decision. And that he wasn't at all happy about it.
Taking Selene's arm – the only point of touch he now seemed willing to allow, and only that for propriety’s sake – whether she wished to be escorted or not, Vangelis began to lead her back towards the event they had left, intent on returning before anyone came to look for them and stumble upon their conversation.
"You do nothing on your own." He told her, in a low tone of muttered directive, the timbre of his voice set in deep stone. "I'll have your sister out by morning." Or they'd all be dead. Which of course, was the alternate option. But he wasn't about to tell Selene that if he thought it meant her going off and attempting some rudimentary rescue on her own that she felt more confident in. Best to keep to positive outcomes only.
Especially given that the plan he had just formulated and committed to made him a sick to his stomach…
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Vangelis wasn't really thinking all that much, as he held Selene close. He knew there wasn't much more to say than he had already and he knew that the situation was an impossible one to find peace with. He also knew that he wasn't exactly the best person in the world for emotional support and understanding and didn't want to risk making the situation worse (as, apparently, he was prone to do with Selene, if their last meeting alone was anything to go by). He, therefore, did little but continue to hold her as he did, soothing the back of her neck and giving her something solid to lean against in her moment of weakness. The fact that it happened to be his chest and frame, wasn't an issue or a significance to him. He just knew that it was something that was needed that he was able to provide.
As such, his thoughts turned the minutiae of their situation, rather than what he could be doing differently. He felt the rise and fall of Selene's chest against his own - fast and harried at first and starting to go a little calmer. From their height difference, he felt the thudding of her heart pressed against his lower ribs. He felt the wisps of her hair brush against skin where his chiton was hemmed just below his neck. He sensed just as much as heard the vibrations of her words, spoken against his body. He rubbed a comforting and perhaps a little too efficient or rhythmic of a hand up and down the silk of her gown.
"The one that avenges their death." He answered simply to her first question. But, whilst Selene was calmer now and clearly open to listening to him a little more, he wasn't convinced his words were getting through the fog of grief and determination. Especially when she turned the logic upon him and asked him what he would do if it was his own sister in such a situation. She had backed away to ask the question, as if to witness his reactions to it first hand, instinctively knowing it to be her trump card in the argument, his fingers falling away from the back of her neck, the palm on the small of her back naturally moving around to her side, where abraded palm met bare skin. He quickly dropped his touch away entirely.
When she asked him what he would do if it were Athanasia who was married to Stephanos right now; if it was his sister due to be murdered without crime, he was tempted to argue that he would never be stupid enough to allow his sister to marry into a family with such deviations of loyalty. But the remark would have been tart and not respectful to what she was asking him. Plus, the image of his sister was too easy to draw to mind and the imagined scenario filled his head quickly, regardless of likelihood.
He opened his mouth to determine that yes, he would have walked away. That he would not have risked Colchis for anything. That he was crown prince first and brother second. That he was his rank before he was his own person. That his choices weren't his own. His lips parted to make that defiant statement of certainty and yet no words came out. The hand he had lifted with an index finger out straight to accompany his confirmation lowered a few inches, suddenly unsure. His stare turned inward for a moment. His mouth closed, his gaze turned away. Selene appeared to want to press him but he held up a quieting hand, his other moving to his lips as he was clearly dawning on a new idea. He frowned, his gaze turned dark. His jaw tightened and seemed to pop just in front of his ear as he continued to give Selene his profile as he thought. He then moved his gaze from sideways to down, his low lip being worked by his thumb and forefinger as he considered something.
He glanced up at Selene, his stare considering and very intense. It shifted from thoughtful, to determined, to considerate, to downright angry. All of it boring into Selene's eyes as if he were trying to make some form of decision about her, some measurement of worth. Eventually, he looked away again, almost dismissively as he took one very calming inhale and a slow exhale.
He nodded.
"I can do it." He told her, without any explanation for his sudden one-eighty of opinion. When he looked at her again, his face was as expressionless and calm as it had always been but there was a tinge of distance about it now. "I can get your sister and Stephanos out." He told her, keeping his voice low in case of wandering eavesdroppers at either end of the corridor. His nostrils flared, he rubbed his hand over the lower half of his face and then he nodded again. "I can do it tonight." Taking a step back from her as if not wanting to make contact after such a decision, Vangelis turned towards the end of the gallery they had come from, his tone and body language suggesting the conversation to be over. That he had made his decision. And that he wasn't at all happy about it.
Taking Selene's arm – the only point of touch he now seemed willing to allow, and only that for propriety’s sake – whether she wished to be escorted or not, Vangelis began to lead her back towards the event they had left, intent on returning before anyone came to look for them and stumble upon their conversation.
"You do nothing on your own." He told her, in a low tone of muttered directive, the timbre of his voice set in deep stone. "I'll have your sister out by morning." Or they'd all be dead. Which of course, was the alternate option. But he wasn't about to tell Selene that if he thought it meant her going off and attempting some rudimentary rescue on her own that she felt more confident in. Best to keep to positive outcomes only.
Especially given that the plan he had just formulated and committed to made him a sick to his stomach…
Vangelis wasn't really thinking all that much, as he held Selene close. He knew there wasn't much more to say than he had already and he knew that the situation was an impossible one to find peace with. He also knew that he wasn't exactly the best person in the world for emotional support and understanding and didn't want to risk making the situation worse (as, apparently, he was prone to do with Selene, if their last meeting alone was anything to go by). He, therefore, did little but continue to hold her as he did, soothing the back of her neck and giving her something solid to lean against in her moment of weakness. The fact that it happened to be his chest and frame, wasn't an issue or a significance to him. He just knew that it was something that was needed that he was able to provide.
As such, his thoughts turned the minutiae of their situation, rather than what he could be doing differently. He felt the rise and fall of Selene's chest against his own - fast and harried at first and starting to go a little calmer. From their height difference, he felt the thudding of her heart pressed against his lower ribs. He felt the wisps of her hair brush against skin where his chiton was hemmed just below his neck. He sensed just as much as heard the vibrations of her words, spoken against his body. He rubbed a comforting and perhaps a little too efficient or rhythmic of a hand up and down the silk of her gown.
"The one that avenges their death." He answered simply to her first question. But, whilst Selene was calmer now and clearly open to listening to him a little more, he wasn't convinced his words were getting through the fog of grief and determination. Especially when she turned the logic upon him and asked him what he would do if it was his own sister in such a situation. She had backed away to ask the question, as if to witness his reactions to it first hand, instinctively knowing it to be her trump card in the argument, his fingers falling away from the back of her neck, the palm on the small of her back naturally moving around to her side, where abraded palm met bare skin. He quickly dropped his touch away entirely.
When she asked him what he would do if it were Athanasia who was married to Stephanos right now; if it was his sister due to be murdered without crime, he was tempted to argue that he would never be stupid enough to allow his sister to marry into a family with such deviations of loyalty. But the remark would have been tart and not respectful to what she was asking him. Plus, the image of his sister was too easy to draw to mind and the imagined scenario filled his head quickly, regardless of likelihood.
He opened his mouth to determine that yes, he would have walked away. That he would not have risked Colchis for anything. That he was crown prince first and brother second. That he was his rank before he was his own person. That his choices weren't his own. His lips parted to make that defiant statement of certainty and yet no words came out. The hand he had lifted with an index finger out straight to accompany his confirmation lowered a few inches, suddenly unsure. His stare turned inward for a moment. His mouth closed, his gaze turned away. Selene appeared to want to press him but he held up a quieting hand, his other moving to his lips as he was clearly dawning on a new idea. He frowned, his gaze turned dark. His jaw tightened and seemed to pop just in front of his ear as he continued to give Selene his profile as he thought. He then moved his gaze from sideways to down, his low lip being worked by his thumb and forefinger as he considered something.
He glanced up at Selene, his stare considering and very intense. It shifted from thoughtful, to determined, to considerate, to downright angry. All of it boring into Selene's eyes as if he were trying to make some form of decision about her, some measurement of worth. Eventually, he looked away again, almost dismissively as he took one very calming inhale and a slow exhale.
He nodded.
"I can do it." He told her, without any explanation for his sudden one-eighty of opinion. When he looked at her again, his face was as expressionless and calm as it had always been but there was a tinge of distance about it now. "I can get your sister and Stephanos out." He told her, keeping his voice low in case of wandering eavesdroppers at either end of the corridor. His nostrils flared, he rubbed his hand over the lower half of his face and then he nodded again. "I can do it tonight." Taking a step back from her as if not wanting to make contact after such a decision, Vangelis turned towards the end of the gallery they had come from, his tone and body language suggesting the conversation to be over. That he had made his decision. And that he wasn't at all happy about it.
Taking Selene's arm – the only point of touch he now seemed willing to allow, and only that for propriety’s sake – whether she wished to be escorted or not, Vangelis began to lead her back towards the event they had left, intent on returning before anyone came to look for them and stumble upon their conversation.
"You do nothing on your own." He told her, in a low tone of muttered directive, the timbre of his voice set in deep stone. "I'll have your sister out by morning." Or they'd all be dead. Which of course, was the alternate option. But he wasn't about to tell Selene that if he thought it meant her going off and attempting some rudimentary rescue on her own that she felt more confident in. Best to keep to positive outcomes only.
Especially given that the plan he had just formulated and committed to made him a sick to his stomach…
Selene has never been a person who thought that revenge was the best answer. But, in all fairness, she had never been in a situation where the lines between justice and revenge were so perfectly blurred. At what point could she stop and say that her duty as the oldest sister had been done, that she had avenged those who had died? And how was she to do so? Could she become calculated and vengeful like others? It wasn’t in her personality, but losing Pia could be a shift, could cause the change to take place.
She would never be the same without her.
And while Vang perhaps could find a sort of comfort in the idea of avenging a wronged death, it didn’t sit well with her. She hated knowing that she would lose a part of herself with their deaths, would be forever changed. Wouldn’t she anyway? Didn’t her plan involve potentially ruining lives?
Selene could tell that her question had brought him pause. He was deep in thought as they stood there, and she didn’t know exactly what to think. Was he thinking of a way to let her down? Or was he considering actually assisting?
If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed his sudden declaration of his plan. ”What do you mean?” She wanted to stop him, to try and get him to explain exactly what he had meant. She needed to know his plan, to figure out exactly what he was going to do to save them. But Selene didn’t get a chance, being tugged gently back out towards the party.
She didn’t want to go back into the crowd, not when she had just lost her emotions so wholly in front of him. She wanted to go back to the house and hide, or to cloister herself in with Pia and accept whatever fate decided. But he didn’t give her a choice, leading her back into the packed room where she would once more be on display. Before he could flee, she let her arm linger on his, ”Be careful, Vangelis.” and then she was dismissed, turning to think of anything else but the task he was taking on.
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Selene has never been a person who thought that revenge was the best answer. But, in all fairness, she had never been in a situation where the lines between justice and revenge were so perfectly blurred. At what point could she stop and say that her duty as the oldest sister had been done, that she had avenged those who had died? And how was she to do so? Could she become calculated and vengeful like others? It wasn’t in her personality, but losing Pia could be a shift, could cause the change to take place.
She would never be the same without her.
And while Vang perhaps could find a sort of comfort in the idea of avenging a wronged death, it didn’t sit well with her. She hated knowing that she would lose a part of herself with their deaths, would be forever changed. Wouldn’t she anyway? Didn’t her plan involve potentially ruining lives?
Selene could tell that her question had brought him pause. He was deep in thought as they stood there, and she didn’t know exactly what to think. Was he thinking of a way to let her down? Or was he considering actually assisting?
If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed his sudden declaration of his plan. ”What do you mean?” She wanted to stop him, to try and get him to explain exactly what he had meant. She needed to know his plan, to figure out exactly what he was going to do to save them. But Selene didn’t get a chance, being tugged gently back out towards the party.
She didn’t want to go back into the crowd, not when she had just lost her emotions so wholly in front of him. She wanted to go back to the house and hide, or to cloister herself in with Pia and accept whatever fate decided. But he didn’t give her a choice, leading her back into the packed room where she would once more be on display. Before he could flee, she let her arm linger on his, ”Be careful, Vangelis.” and then she was dismissed, turning to think of anything else but the task he was taking on.
Selene has never been a person who thought that revenge was the best answer. But, in all fairness, she had never been in a situation where the lines between justice and revenge were so perfectly blurred. At what point could she stop and say that her duty as the oldest sister had been done, that she had avenged those who had died? And how was she to do so? Could she become calculated and vengeful like others? It wasn’t in her personality, but losing Pia could be a shift, could cause the change to take place.
She would never be the same without her.
And while Vang perhaps could find a sort of comfort in the idea of avenging a wronged death, it didn’t sit well with her. She hated knowing that she would lose a part of herself with their deaths, would be forever changed. Wouldn’t she anyway? Didn’t her plan involve potentially ruining lives?
Selene could tell that her question had brought him pause. He was deep in thought as they stood there, and she didn’t know exactly what to think. Was he thinking of a way to let her down? Or was he considering actually assisting?
If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed his sudden declaration of his plan. ”What do you mean?” She wanted to stop him, to try and get him to explain exactly what he had meant. She needed to know his plan, to figure out exactly what he was going to do to save them. But Selene didn’t get a chance, being tugged gently back out towards the party.
She didn’t want to go back into the crowd, not when she had just lost her emotions so wholly in front of him. She wanted to go back to the house and hide, or to cloister herself in with Pia and accept whatever fate decided. But he didn’t give her a choice, leading her back into the packed room where she would once more be on display. Before he could flee, she let her arm linger on his, ”Be careful, Vangelis.” and then she was dismissed, turning to think of anything else but the task he was taking on.
Vangelis didn't have any words that would calm Selene. Because there weren't really any that existed. He couldn't tell her how she was supposed to accept the death of a loved one because, in truth, you just did. With time and familiarity with the idea. Each time they were missing at a dinner table or a roll call or a military expedition, it hurt just a little less. You never really moved on. The world moved on around you and you grew to accept it. But that wasn't what Selene wanted or needed to hear right now. She wanted him to tell her it would be alright, that her sister would be fine. Or that Olympia's death was no reflection on her and her failings. Which was truth but a truth that was hard for any first born to swallow. Vangelis had been through the fear of losing a brother. He had almost lost Zanon a few years back and he had not been consolable in his determination that it was all his own fault. It was a burden of the first born. Everything was your responsibility. All of your siblings - yours to care for. Whether you had the ability to do so or not. Whether you were responsible for the dangers they got themselves into or not. It didn't matter. You were the eldest, so you protected your kin.
Unable to offer her the words she needed to hear that would be pure fallacy and false hope if he let them breech his lips, Selene seemed to read something in his face - something which he thought might be understanding and empathy. And then suddenly she was falling into him. Opening his arms on instinct to create an open space for her against his chest, Vangelis felt the woman collapse against him, the top of her head barely reaching passed his collarbone as his frame engulfed hers.
A man unused to physical contact that wasn't violent, he might be. But Vangelis was not the statue that everyone claimed him to be. And whilst he froze with shock for a moment at Selene's sudden nearness, he was quick to adjust and react. The large wingspan of his arms folded around Selene's back giving her just enough pressure that he was holding her close, without forcing her any nearer than she chose to be. He didn't drop his head to the top of hers or to her shoulder, and instead just tilted his jaw so that he could watch her a moment, as one arm remained curled around the small of her back and the other trailed up her back and beneath the long, flowing curls of her hair.
He moved purely on natural whim as the rough pads of his fingertips found the back of Selene's neck. He rubbed and stroked as the velvety soft skin, a small and calming massage against her nape. Her hair fell over his bare arm and he was reminded again of how soft the silken tendrils were against his skin. Everything about this woman was like silk. Not that he had ever had great cause to realise it. She held herself with such strength it had never dawned on him that she could be as equally soft as she was powerful.
Vangelis said nothing as he offered her the comfort she sought. Not for several long minutes as he let her loose her emotions a little against his chest. He couldn't tell if she was actually crying, gasping for air because her emotions had leech it from her lungs, or just sniffling against the desire to bawl. Either way she was not of her usual calm countenance, which meant that Vangelis had no issues at all with allowing her to hide away in his chest for a few minutes before she could draw upon her emotional reserves.
"It is not about acceptance." He told her as he rubbed at her neck and his finger splayed wide across the small of her back. "It is about choosing to do what is logical and best for yourself and family. You say that your risking journeying to the Styx with Olympia is a sacrifice you are willing to make... Do you think Olympia would be willing for you to make it? Do you think she'll be thankful as you join her to pay Charon's fare?" He paused for a moment to let that idea sink in. "It is noble to offer up your life when there are no other options, Selene. But it can be just as great a show of devotion to survive to fight the next battle, that your sister could not live to see..."
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Vangelis didn't have any words that would calm Selene. Because there weren't really any that existed. He couldn't tell her how she was supposed to accept the death of a loved one because, in truth, you just did. With time and familiarity with the idea. Each time they were missing at a dinner table or a roll call or a military expedition, it hurt just a little less. You never really moved on. The world moved on around you and you grew to accept it. But that wasn't what Selene wanted or needed to hear right now. She wanted him to tell her it would be alright, that her sister would be fine. Or that Olympia's death was no reflection on her and her failings. Which was truth but a truth that was hard for any first born to swallow. Vangelis had been through the fear of losing a brother. He had almost lost Zanon a few years back and he had not been consolable in his determination that it was all his own fault. It was a burden of the first born. Everything was your responsibility. All of your siblings - yours to care for. Whether you had the ability to do so or not. Whether you were responsible for the dangers they got themselves into or not. It didn't matter. You were the eldest, so you protected your kin.
Unable to offer her the words she needed to hear that would be pure fallacy and false hope if he let them breech his lips, Selene seemed to read something in his face - something which he thought might be understanding and empathy. And then suddenly she was falling into him. Opening his arms on instinct to create an open space for her against his chest, Vangelis felt the woman collapse against him, the top of her head barely reaching passed his collarbone as his frame engulfed hers.
A man unused to physical contact that wasn't violent, he might be. But Vangelis was not the statue that everyone claimed him to be. And whilst he froze with shock for a moment at Selene's sudden nearness, he was quick to adjust and react. The large wingspan of his arms folded around Selene's back giving her just enough pressure that he was holding her close, without forcing her any nearer than she chose to be. He didn't drop his head to the top of hers or to her shoulder, and instead just tilted his jaw so that he could watch her a moment, as one arm remained curled around the small of her back and the other trailed up her back and beneath the long, flowing curls of her hair.
He moved purely on natural whim as the rough pads of his fingertips found the back of Selene's neck. He rubbed and stroked as the velvety soft skin, a small and calming massage against her nape. Her hair fell over his bare arm and he was reminded again of how soft the silken tendrils were against his skin. Everything about this woman was like silk. Not that he had ever had great cause to realise it. She held herself with such strength it had never dawned on him that she could be as equally soft as she was powerful.
Vangelis said nothing as he offered her the comfort she sought. Not for several long minutes as he let her loose her emotions a little against his chest. He couldn't tell if she was actually crying, gasping for air because her emotions had leech it from her lungs, or just sniffling against the desire to bawl. Either way she was not of her usual calm countenance, which meant that Vangelis had no issues at all with allowing her to hide away in his chest for a few minutes before she could draw upon her emotional reserves.
"It is not about acceptance." He told her as he rubbed at her neck and his finger splayed wide across the small of her back. "It is about choosing to do what is logical and best for yourself and family. You say that your risking journeying to the Styx with Olympia is a sacrifice you are willing to make... Do you think Olympia would be willing for you to make it? Do you think she'll be thankful as you join her to pay Charon's fare?" He paused for a moment to let that idea sink in. "It is noble to offer up your life when there are no other options, Selene. But it can be just as great a show of devotion to survive to fight the next battle, that your sister could not live to see..."
Vangelis didn't have any words that would calm Selene. Because there weren't really any that existed. He couldn't tell her how she was supposed to accept the death of a loved one because, in truth, you just did. With time and familiarity with the idea. Each time they were missing at a dinner table or a roll call or a military expedition, it hurt just a little less. You never really moved on. The world moved on around you and you grew to accept it. But that wasn't what Selene wanted or needed to hear right now. She wanted him to tell her it would be alright, that her sister would be fine. Or that Olympia's death was no reflection on her and her failings. Which was truth but a truth that was hard for any first born to swallow. Vangelis had been through the fear of losing a brother. He had almost lost Zanon a few years back and he had not been consolable in his determination that it was all his own fault. It was a burden of the first born. Everything was your responsibility. All of your siblings - yours to care for. Whether you had the ability to do so or not. Whether you were responsible for the dangers they got themselves into or not. It didn't matter. You were the eldest, so you protected your kin.
Unable to offer her the words she needed to hear that would be pure fallacy and false hope if he let them breech his lips, Selene seemed to read something in his face - something which he thought might be understanding and empathy. And then suddenly she was falling into him. Opening his arms on instinct to create an open space for her against his chest, Vangelis felt the woman collapse against him, the top of her head barely reaching passed his collarbone as his frame engulfed hers.
A man unused to physical contact that wasn't violent, he might be. But Vangelis was not the statue that everyone claimed him to be. And whilst he froze with shock for a moment at Selene's sudden nearness, he was quick to adjust and react. The large wingspan of his arms folded around Selene's back giving her just enough pressure that he was holding her close, without forcing her any nearer than she chose to be. He didn't drop his head to the top of hers or to her shoulder, and instead just tilted his jaw so that he could watch her a moment, as one arm remained curled around the small of her back and the other trailed up her back and beneath the long, flowing curls of her hair.
He moved purely on natural whim as the rough pads of his fingertips found the back of Selene's neck. He rubbed and stroked as the velvety soft skin, a small and calming massage against her nape. Her hair fell over his bare arm and he was reminded again of how soft the silken tendrils were against his skin. Everything about this woman was like silk. Not that he had ever had great cause to realise it. She held herself with such strength it had never dawned on him that she could be as equally soft as she was powerful.
Vangelis said nothing as he offered her the comfort she sought. Not for several long minutes as he let her loose her emotions a little against his chest. He couldn't tell if she was actually crying, gasping for air because her emotions had leech it from her lungs, or just sniffling against the desire to bawl. Either way she was not of her usual calm countenance, which meant that Vangelis had no issues at all with allowing her to hide away in his chest for a few minutes before she could draw upon her emotional reserves.
"It is not about acceptance." He told her as he rubbed at her neck and his finger splayed wide across the small of her back. "It is about choosing to do what is logical and best for yourself and family. You say that your risking journeying to the Styx with Olympia is a sacrifice you are willing to make... Do you think Olympia would be willing for you to make it? Do you think she'll be thankful as you join her to pay Charon's fare?" He paused for a moment to let that idea sink in. "It is noble to offer up your life when there are no other options, Selene. But it can be just as great a show of devotion to survive to fight the next battle, that your sister could not live to see..."
For all the hate she held in her heart for the situation, there had been a reason she had asked Vangelis specific for his assistance. The man knew the burden of being the first born. And while she wasn’t a prince, and didn’t have the duties that came with taking up the crown, he did perfectly understand what being the eldest meant. And could appreciate the parallels in their roles. Even now, she had been given a sister to look after, at a party where she should have been allowed to just enjoy herself. From the time Theo joined the family, her duty was clear— look after the sisters. And with his own birth order and size of family, no one understood it like he did. And perhaps that was one of the reasons they got alone so well. While her duty may not have been as important as his, they both had been born with a similar task, to protect the rest.
After Pia’s death, the similarities would stop there.
She felt so utterly raw against him, not quite crying but dissolved in quite grief. None of this made any sense to her at all. Pia shouldn’t be the one waiting in the gallows. She shouldn’t be queen. Zenon and Zacharias shouldn’t be dead. And she certainly shouldn’t be mourning their deaths. And yet, that was the only option he was suggesting. Deep down, she knew him to be correct. There wasn’t anything she could do, and trying would bring down everything her father had worked so hard to build. If she attempted to defy Irakles and intervene, her fate and that of her family would be sealed. It would do none of them any good if she tried to simply save the life on her sister
And yet, it was still her sister. And she was certain the plan Alastair had suggested would do the job.
Her grief was so great that she couldn’t even focus on the incredibly intimate comfort Vangelis was providing. She seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms, their warmth and strength exactly what her broken heart needed. As his arms wrapped around her, it was almost second nature to allow her head to fall in the crook that was created against his chest. Her hands pressed against his torso grabbed the material of his chiton with a fierce need for something to hold onto. She found herself slightly hyperventilating at the realization that no one could save them. And yet, as quickly as the storm of emotions overcame her, it was settled by the steady beat of his heart against her ear.
She listened to what he had to say, trying to focus her brain on rationality and not the desperation she had come to him with. But it felt pointless to try— Selene did not like where his suggestion led. ”What battle is worth fighting without the one who supported you the loudest? Who understood your pain the most?” Her voice was small, far more calm that she had been before. But it was filled with sorrow and grief, from a hopelessness that had never existed in her heart until now. ”I cannot believe that there is no solution. And you cannot tell me that this is how you would take it if it was your family.” She stepped back enough that she could look at him, really see his face when he responded. ”Would you just stand by and do nothing if it was your sister married to Stephanos? Headed for a certain, unavoidable death?”
If he said yes, she could leave knowing that his advice was at least that of an honest man. But if he said otherwise, Selene knew she had to continue down the path of recklessness.
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For all the hate she held in her heart for the situation, there had been a reason she had asked Vangelis specific for his assistance. The man knew the burden of being the first born. And while she wasn’t a prince, and didn’t have the duties that came with taking up the crown, he did perfectly understand what being the eldest meant. And could appreciate the parallels in their roles. Even now, she had been given a sister to look after, at a party where she should have been allowed to just enjoy herself. From the time Theo joined the family, her duty was clear— look after the sisters. And with his own birth order and size of family, no one understood it like he did. And perhaps that was one of the reasons they got alone so well. While her duty may not have been as important as his, they both had been born with a similar task, to protect the rest.
After Pia’s death, the similarities would stop there.
She felt so utterly raw against him, not quite crying but dissolved in quite grief. None of this made any sense to her at all. Pia shouldn’t be the one waiting in the gallows. She shouldn’t be queen. Zenon and Zacharias shouldn’t be dead. And she certainly shouldn’t be mourning their deaths. And yet, that was the only option he was suggesting. Deep down, she knew him to be correct. There wasn’t anything she could do, and trying would bring down everything her father had worked so hard to build. If she attempted to defy Irakles and intervene, her fate and that of her family would be sealed. It would do none of them any good if she tried to simply save the life on her sister
And yet, it was still her sister. And she was certain the plan Alastair had suggested would do the job.
Her grief was so great that she couldn’t even focus on the incredibly intimate comfort Vangelis was providing. She seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms, their warmth and strength exactly what her broken heart needed. As his arms wrapped around her, it was almost second nature to allow her head to fall in the crook that was created against his chest. Her hands pressed against his torso grabbed the material of his chiton with a fierce need for something to hold onto. She found herself slightly hyperventilating at the realization that no one could save them. And yet, as quickly as the storm of emotions overcame her, it was settled by the steady beat of his heart against her ear.
She listened to what he had to say, trying to focus her brain on rationality and not the desperation she had come to him with. But it felt pointless to try— Selene did not like where his suggestion led. ”What battle is worth fighting without the one who supported you the loudest? Who understood your pain the most?” Her voice was small, far more calm that she had been before. But it was filled with sorrow and grief, from a hopelessness that had never existed in her heart until now. ”I cannot believe that there is no solution. And you cannot tell me that this is how you would take it if it was your family.” She stepped back enough that she could look at him, really see his face when he responded. ”Would you just stand by and do nothing if it was your sister married to Stephanos? Headed for a certain, unavoidable death?”
If he said yes, she could leave knowing that his advice was at least that of an honest man. But if he said otherwise, Selene knew she had to continue down the path of recklessness.
For all the hate she held in her heart for the situation, there had been a reason she had asked Vangelis specific for his assistance. The man knew the burden of being the first born. And while she wasn’t a prince, and didn’t have the duties that came with taking up the crown, he did perfectly understand what being the eldest meant. And could appreciate the parallels in their roles. Even now, she had been given a sister to look after, at a party where she should have been allowed to just enjoy herself. From the time Theo joined the family, her duty was clear— look after the sisters. And with his own birth order and size of family, no one understood it like he did. And perhaps that was one of the reasons they got alone so well. While her duty may not have been as important as his, they both had been born with a similar task, to protect the rest.
After Pia’s death, the similarities would stop there.
She felt so utterly raw against him, not quite crying but dissolved in quite grief. None of this made any sense to her at all. Pia shouldn’t be the one waiting in the gallows. She shouldn’t be queen. Zenon and Zacharias shouldn’t be dead. And she certainly shouldn’t be mourning their deaths. And yet, that was the only option he was suggesting. Deep down, she knew him to be correct. There wasn’t anything she could do, and trying would bring down everything her father had worked so hard to build. If she attempted to defy Irakles and intervene, her fate and that of her family would be sealed. It would do none of them any good if she tried to simply save the life on her sister
And yet, it was still her sister. And she was certain the plan Alastair had suggested would do the job.
Her grief was so great that she couldn’t even focus on the incredibly intimate comfort Vangelis was providing. She seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms, their warmth and strength exactly what her broken heart needed. As his arms wrapped around her, it was almost second nature to allow her head to fall in the crook that was created against his chest. Her hands pressed against his torso grabbed the material of his chiton with a fierce need for something to hold onto. She found herself slightly hyperventilating at the realization that no one could save them. And yet, as quickly as the storm of emotions overcame her, it was settled by the steady beat of his heart against her ear.
She listened to what he had to say, trying to focus her brain on rationality and not the desperation she had come to him with. But it felt pointless to try— Selene did not like where his suggestion led. ”What battle is worth fighting without the one who supported you the loudest? Who understood your pain the most?” Her voice was small, far more calm that she had been before. But it was filled with sorrow and grief, from a hopelessness that had never existed in her heart until now. ”I cannot believe that there is no solution. And you cannot tell me that this is how you would take it if it was your family.” She stepped back enough that she could look at him, really see his face when he responded. ”Would you just stand by and do nothing if it was your sister married to Stephanos? Headed for a certain, unavoidable death?”
If he said yes, she could leave knowing that his advice was at least that of an honest man. But if he said otherwise, Selene knew she had to continue down the path of recklessness.
Vangelis wasn't really thinking all that much, as he held Selene close. He knew there wasn't much more to say than he had already and he knew that the situation was an impossible one to find peace with. He also knew that he wasn't exactly the best person in the world for emotional support and understanding and didn't want to risk making the situation worse (as, apparently, he was prone to do with Selene, if their last meeting alone was anything to go by). He, therefore, did little but continue to hold her as he did, soothing the back of her neck and giving her something solid to lean against in her moment of weakness. The fact that it happened to be his chest and frame, wasn't an issue or a significance to him. He just knew that it was something that was needed that he was able to provide.
As such, his thoughts turned the minutiae of their situation, rather than what he could be doing differently. He felt the rise and fall of Selene's chest against his own - fast and harried at first and starting to go a little calmer. From their height difference, he felt the thudding of her heart pressed against his lower ribs. He felt the wisps of her hair brush against skin where his chiton was hemmed just below his neck. He sensed just as much as heard the vibrations of her words, spoken against his body. He rubbed a comforting and perhaps a little too efficient or rhythmic of a hand up and down the silk of her gown.
"The one that avenges their death." He answered simply to her first question. But, whilst Selene was calmer now and clearly open to listening to him a little more, he wasn't convinced his words were getting through the fog of grief and determination. Especially when she turned the logic upon him and asked him what he would do if it was his own sister in such a situation. She had backed away to ask the question, as if to witness his reactions to it first hand, instinctively knowing it to be her trump card in the argument, his fingers falling away from the back of her neck, the palm on the small of her back naturally moving around to her side, where abraded palm met bare skin. He quickly dropped his touch away entirely.
When she asked him what he would do if it were Athanasia who was married to Stephanos right now; if it was his sister due to be murdered without crime, he was tempted to argue that he would never be stupid enough to allow his sister to marry into a family with such deviations of loyalty. But the remark would have been tart and not respectful to what she was asking him. Plus, the image of his sister was too easy to draw to mind and the imagined scenario filled his head quickly, regardless of likelihood.
He opened his mouth to determine that yes, he would have walked away. That he would not have risked Colchis for anything. That he was crown prince first and brother second. That he was his rank before he was his own person. That his choices weren't his own. His lips parted to make that defiant statement of certainty and yet no words came out. The hand he had lifted with an index finger out straight to accompany his confirmation lowered a few inches, suddenly unsure. His stare turned inward for a moment. His mouth closed, his gaze turned away. Selene appeared to want to press him but he held up a quieting hand, his other moving to his lips as he was clearly dawning on a new idea. He frowned, his gaze turned dark. His jaw tightened and seemed to pop just in front of his ear as he continued to give Selene his profile as he thought. He then moved his gaze from sideways to down, his low lip being worked by his thumb and forefinger as he considered something.
He glanced up at Selene, his stare considering and very intense. It shifted from thoughtful, to determined, to considerate, to downright angry. All of it boring into Selene's eyes as if he were trying to make some form of decision about her, some measurement of worth. Eventually, he looked away again, almost dismissively as he took one very calming inhale and a slow exhale.
He nodded.
"I can do it." He told her, without any explanation for his sudden one-eighty of opinion. When he looked at her again, his face was as expressionless and calm as it had always been but there was a tinge of distance about it now. "I can get your sister and Stephanos out." He told her, keeping his voice low in case of wandering eavesdroppers at either end of the corridor. His nostrils flared, he rubbed his hand over the lower half of his face and then he nodded again. "I can do it tonight." Taking a step back from her as if not wanting to make contact after such a decision, Vangelis turned towards the end of the gallery they had come from, his tone and body language suggesting the conversation to be over. That he had made his decision. And that he wasn't at all happy about it.
Taking Selene's arm – the only point of touch he now seemed willing to allow, and only that for propriety’s sake – whether she wished to be escorted or not, Vangelis began to lead her back towards the event they had left, intent on returning before anyone came to look for them and stumble upon their conversation.
"You do nothing on your own." He told her, in a low tone of muttered directive, the timbre of his voice set in deep stone. "I'll have your sister out by morning." Or they'd all be dead. Which of course, was the alternate option. But he wasn't about to tell Selene that if he thought it meant her going off and attempting some rudimentary rescue on her own that she felt more confident in. Best to keep to positive outcomes only.
Especially given that the plan he had just formulated and committed to made him a sick to his stomach…
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Vangelis wasn't really thinking all that much, as he held Selene close. He knew there wasn't much more to say than he had already and he knew that the situation was an impossible one to find peace with. He also knew that he wasn't exactly the best person in the world for emotional support and understanding and didn't want to risk making the situation worse (as, apparently, he was prone to do with Selene, if their last meeting alone was anything to go by). He, therefore, did little but continue to hold her as he did, soothing the back of her neck and giving her something solid to lean against in her moment of weakness. The fact that it happened to be his chest and frame, wasn't an issue or a significance to him. He just knew that it was something that was needed that he was able to provide.
As such, his thoughts turned the minutiae of their situation, rather than what he could be doing differently. He felt the rise and fall of Selene's chest against his own - fast and harried at first and starting to go a little calmer. From their height difference, he felt the thudding of her heart pressed against his lower ribs. He felt the wisps of her hair brush against skin where his chiton was hemmed just below his neck. He sensed just as much as heard the vibrations of her words, spoken against his body. He rubbed a comforting and perhaps a little too efficient or rhythmic of a hand up and down the silk of her gown.
"The one that avenges their death." He answered simply to her first question. But, whilst Selene was calmer now and clearly open to listening to him a little more, he wasn't convinced his words were getting through the fog of grief and determination. Especially when she turned the logic upon him and asked him what he would do if it was his own sister in such a situation. She had backed away to ask the question, as if to witness his reactions to it first hand, instinctively knowing it to be her trump card in the argument, his fingers falling away from the back of her neck, the palm on the small of her back naturally moving around to her side, where abraded palm met bare skin. He quickly dropped his touch away entirely.
When she asked him what he would do if it were Athanasia who was married to Stephanos right now; if it was his sister due to be murdered without crime, he was tempted to argue that he would never be stupid enough to allow his sister to marry into a family with such deviations of loyalty. But the remark would have been tart and not respectful to what she was asking him. Plus, the image of his sister was too easy to draw to mind and the imagined scenario filled his head quickly, regardless of likelihood.
He opened his mouth to determine that yes, he would have walked away. That he would not have risked Colchis for anything. That he was crown prince first and brother second. That he was his rank before he was his own person. That his choices weren't his own. His lips parted to make that defiant statement of certainty and yet no words came out. The hand he had lifted with an index finger out straight to accompany his confirmation lowered a few inches, suddenly unsure. His stare turned inward for a moment. His mouth closed, his gaze turned away. Selene appeared to want to press him but he held up a quieting hand, his other moving to his lips as he was clearly dawning on a new idea. He frowned, his gaze turned dark. His jaw tightened and seemed to pop just in front of his ear as he continued to give Selene his profile as he thought. He then moved his gaze from sideways to down, his low lip being worked by his thumb and forefinger as he considered something.
He glanced up at Selene, his stare considering and very intense. It shifted from thoughtful, to determined, to considerate, to downright angry. All of it boring into Selene's eyes as if he were trying to make some form of decision about her, some measurement of worth. Eventually, he looked away again, almost dismissively as he took one very calming inhale and a slow exhale.
He nodded.
"I can do it." He told her, without any explanation for his sudden one-eighty of opinion. When he looked at her again, his face was as expressionless and calm as it had always been but there was a tinge of distance about it now. "I can get your sister and Stephanos out." He told her, keeping his voice low in case of wandering eavesdroppers at either end of the corridor. His nostrils flared, he rubbed his hand over the lower half of his face and then he nodded again. "I can do it tonight." Taking a step back from her as if not wanting to make contact after such a decision, Vangelis turned towards the end of the gallery they had come from, his tone and body language suggesting the conversation to be over. That he had made his decision. And that he wasn't at all happy about it.
Taking Selene's arm – the only point of touch he now seemed willing to allow, and only that for propriety’s sake – whether she wished to be escorted or not, Vangelis began to lead her back towards the event they had left, intent on returning before anyone came to look for them and stumble upon their conversation.
"You do nothing on your own." He told her, in a low tone of muttered directive, the timbre of his voice set in deep stone. "I'll have your sister out by morning." Or they'd all be dead. Which of course, was the alternate option. But he wasn't about to tell Selene that if he thought it meant her going off and attempting some rudimentary rescue on her own that she felt more confident in. Best to keep to positive outcomes only.
Especially given that the plan he had just formulated and committed to made him a sick to his stomach…
Vangelis wasn't really thinking all that much, as he held Selene close. He knew there wasn't much more to say than he had already and he knew that the situation was an impossible one to find peace with. He also knew that he wasn't exactly the best person in the world for emotional support and understanding and didn't want to risk making the situation worse (as, apparently, he was prone to do with Selene, if their last meeting alone was anything to go by). He, therefore, did little but continue to hold her as he did, soothing the back of her neck and giving her something solid to lean against in her moment of weakness. The fact that it happened to be his chest and frame, wasn't an issue or a significance to him. He just knew that it was something that was needed that he was able to provide.
As such, his thoughts turned the minutiae of their situation, rather than what he could be doing differently. He felt the rise and fall of Selene's chest against his own - fast and harried at first and starting to go a little calmer. From their height difference, he felt the thudding of her heart pressed against his lower ribs. He felt the wisps of her hair brush against skin where his chiton was hemmed just below his neck. He sensed just as much as heard the vibrations of her words, spoken against his body. He rubbed a comforting and perhaps a little too efficient or rhythmic of a hand up and down the silk of her gown.
"The one that avenges their death." He answered simply to her first question. But, whilst Selene was calmer now and clearly open to listening to him a little more, he wasn't convinced his words were getting through the fog of grief and determination. Especially when she turned the logic upon him and asked him what he would do if it was his own sister in such a situation. She had backed away to ask the question, as if to witness his reactions to it first hand, instinctively knowing it to be her trump card in the argument, his fingers falling away from the back of her neck, the palm on the small of her back naturally moving around to her side, where abraded palm met bare skin. He quickly dropped his touch away entirely.
When she asked him what he would do if it were Athanasia who was married to Stephanos right now; if it was his sister due to be murdered without crime, he was tempted to argue that he would never be stupid enough to allow his sister to marry into a family with such deviations of loyalty. But the remark would have been tart and not respectful to what she was asking him. Plus, the image of his sister was too easy to draw to mind and the imagined scenario filled his head quickly, regardless of likelihood.
He opened his mouth to determine that yes, he would have walked away. That he would not have risked Colchis for anything. That he was crown prince first and brother second. That he was his rank before he was his own person. That his choices weren't his own. His lips parted to make that defiant statement of certainty and yet no words came out. The hand he had lifted with an index finger out straight to accompany his confirmation lowered a few inches, suddenly unsure. His stare turned inward for a moment. His mouth closed, his gaze turned away. Selene appeared to want to press him but he held up a quieting hand, his other moving to his lips as he was clearly dawning on a new idea. He frowned, his gaze turned dark. His jaw tightened and seemed to pop just in front of his ear as he continued to give Selene his profile as he thought. He then moved his gaze from sideways to down, his low lip being worked by his thumb and forefinger as he considered something.
He glanced up at Selene, his stare considering and very intense. It shifted from thoughtful, to determined, to considerate, to downright angry. All of it boring into Selene's eyes as if he were trying to make some form of decision about her, some measurement of worth. Eventually, he looked away again, almost dismissively as he took one very calming inhale and a slow exhale.
He nodded.
"I can do it." He told her, without any explanation for his sudden one-eighty of opinion. When he looked at her again, his face was as expressionless and calm as it had always been but there was a tinge of distance about it now. "I can get your sister and Stephanos out." He told her, keeping his voice low in case of wandering eavesdroppers at either end of the corridor. His nostrils flared, he rubbed his hand over the lower half of his face and then he nodded again. "I can do it tonight." Taking a step back from her as if not wanting to make contact after such a decision, Vangelis turned towards the end of the gallery they had come from, his tone and body language suggesting the conversation to be over. That he had made his decision. And that he wasn't at all happy about it.
Taking Selene's arm – the only point of touch he now seemed willing to allow, and only that for propriety’s sake – whether she wished to be escorted or not, Vangelis began to lead her back towards the event they had left, intent on returning before anyone came to look for them and stumble upon their conversation.
"You do nothing on your own." He told her, in a low tone of muttered directive, the timbre of his voice set in deep stone. "I'll have your sister out by morning." Or they'd all be dead. Which of course, was the alternate option. But he wasn't about to tell Selene that if he thought it meant her going off and attempting some rudimentary rescue on her own that she felt more confident in. Best to keep to positive outcomes only.
Especially given that the plan he had just formulated and committed to made him a sick to his stomach…
Selene has never been a person who thought that revenge was the best answer. But, in all fairness, she had never been in a situation where the lines between justice and revenge were so perfectly blurred. At what point could she stop and say that her duty as the oldest sister had been done, that she had avenged those who had died? And how was she to do so? Could she become calculated and vengeful like others? It wasn’t in her personality, but losing Pia could be a shift, could cause the change to take place.
She would never be the same without her.
And while Vang perhaps could find a sort of comfort in the idea of avenging a wronged death, it didn’t sit well with her. She hated knowing that she would lose a part of herself with their deaths, would be forever changed. Wouldn’t she anyway? Didn’t her plan involve potentially ruining lives?
Selene could tell that her question had brought him pause. He was deep in thought as they stood there, and she didn’t know exactly what to think. Was he thinking of a way to let her down? Or was he considering actually assisting?
If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed his sudden declaration of his plan. ”What do you mean?” She wanted to stop him, to try and get him to explain exactly what he had meant. She needed to know his plan, to figure out exactly what he was going to do to save them. But Selene didn’t get a chance, being tugged gently back out towards the party.
She didn’t want to go back into the crowd, not when she had just lost her emotions so wholly in front of him. She wanted to go back to the house and hide, or to cloister herself in with Pia and accept whatever fate decided. But he didn’t give her a choice, leading her back into the packed room where she would once more be on display. Before he could flee, she let her arm linger on his, ”Be careful, Vangelis.” and then she was dismissed, turning to think of anything else but the task he was taking on.
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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Selene has never been a person who thought that revenge was the best answer. But, in all fairness, she had never been in a situation where the lines between justice and revenge were so perfectly blurred. At what point could she stop and say that her duty as the oldest sister had been done, that she had avenged those who had died? And how was she to do so? Could she become calculated and vengeful like others? It wasn’t in her personality, but losing Pia could be a shift, could cause the change to take place.
She would never be the same without her.
And while Vang perhaps could find a sort of comfort in the idea of avenging a wronged death, it didn’t sit well with her. She hated knowing that she would lose a part of herself with their deaths, would be forever changed. Wouldn’t she anyway? Didn’t her plan involve potentially ruining lives?
Selene could tell that her question had brought him pause. He was deep in thought as they stood there, and she didn’t know exactly what to think. Was he thinking of a way to let her down? Or was he considering actually assisting?
If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed his sudden declaration of his plan. ”What do you mean?” She wanted to stop him, to try and get him to explain exactly what he had meant. She needed to know his plan, to figure out exactly what he was going to do to save them. But Selene didn’t get a chance, being tugged gently back out towards the party.
She didn’t want to go back into the crowd, not when she had just lost her emotions so wholly in front of him. She wanted to go back to the house and hide, or to cloister herself in with Pia and accept whatever fate decided. But he didn’t give her a choice, leading her back into the packed room where she would once more be on display. Before he could flee, she let her arm linger on his, ”Be careful, Vangelis.” and then she was dismissed, turning to think of anything else but the task he was taking on.
Selene has never been a person who thought that revenge was the best answer. But, in all fairness, she had never been in a situation where the lines between justice and revenge were so perfectly blurred. At what point could she stop and say that her duty as the oldest sister had been done, that she had avenged those who had died? And how was she to do so? Could she become calculated and vengeful like others? It wasn’t in her personality, but losing Pia could be a shift, could cause the change to take place.
She would never be the same without her.
And while Vang perhaps could find a sort of comfort in the idea of avenging a wronged death, it didn’t sit well with her. She hated knowing that she would lose a part of herself with their deaths, would be forever changed. Wouldn’t she anyway? Didn’t her plan involve potentially ruining lives?
Selene could tell that her question had brought him pause. He was deep in thought as they stood there, and she didn’t know exactly what to think. Was he thinking of a way to let her down? Or was he considering actually assisting?
If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed his sudden declaration of his plan. ”What do you mean?” She wanted to stop him, to try and get him to explain exactly what he had meant. She needed to know his plan, to figure out exactly what he was going to do to save them. But Selene didn’t get a chance, being tugged gently back out towards the party.
She didn’t want to go back into the crowd, not when she had just lost her emotions so wholly in front of him. She wanted to go back to the house and hide, or to cloister herself in with Pia and accept whatever fate decided. But he didn’t give her a choice, leading her back into the packed room where she would once more be on display. Before he could flee, she let her arm linger on his, ”Be careful, Vangelis.” and then she was dismissed, turning to think of anything else but the task he was taking on.