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Whilst it has been nearly a week since the discovery of the first royal Kotas ship at the bottom of the sea in the province of Nethisa, its brother vessel now pulls into the harbour of Midas. Crown Prince, now King, Vangelis and his company in the form of the ejected King and Queen of Taengea and their escorts are, so far, entirely ignorant of the recent events in the kingdom of Colchis and arrive to a sombre welcoming party of the Kotas House, as well as multiple members of the nobility. Some stand to show solidarity and others are simply in attendance in order to witness if the Stone Prince will crack upon the news of his father and monarch's demise...
JD
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JD
Staff Team
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Whilst it has been nearly a week since the discovery of the first royal Kotas ship at the bottom of the sea in the province of Nethisa, its brother vessel now pulls into the harbour of Midas. Crown Prince, now King, Vangelis and his company in the form of the ejected King and Queen of Taengea and their escorts are, so far, entirely ignorant of the recent events in the kingdom of Colchis and arrive to a sombre welcoming party of the Kotas House, as well as multiple members of the nobility. Some stand to show solidarity and others are simply in attendance in order to witness if the Stone Prince will crack upon the news of his father and monarch's demise...
King's Landing Event - Colchis
Whilst it has been nearly a week since the discovery of the first royal Kotas ship at the bottom of the sea in the province of Nethisa, its brother vessel now pulls into the harbour of Midas. Crown Prince, now King, Vangelis and his company in the form of the ejected King and Queen of Taengea and their escorts are, so far, entirely ignorant of the recent events in the kingdom of Colchis and arrive to a sombre welcoming party of the Kotas House, as well as multiple members of the nobility. Some stand to show solidarity and others are simply in attendance in order to witness if the Stone Prince will crack upon the news of his father and monarch's demise...
Life as they knew it had been upended.
What did one do, when one suddenly found the plans one had carefully laid out over the course of the last few weeks, turned on its head? It was supposed to be a happy occasion, or at least, Evras had hoped so. Having returned from Nethisa with news that would turn the whole royal family's heirarchy around, Evras had spent a lot of time with the Queen herself. Admiration for her mother-in-law grew, for instead of showing terror and fear, the Queen had stood tall and proud, knowing every bit of duty and strength as she assisted her husband in what must be done in the event of Vangelis now to be crowned King upon his arrival on Colchian soil.
For Evras, she helped the best she could. It was in times like these that she found herself with much, so much more to learn from the Queen. But it did not help that she found herself growing more and more weary, and when she missed the third month of her courses, her sister's words simply further solidified her suspicions that a new life now grew inside of her. Her legs felt leaden on certain days, tough as it was to drag herself out of bed.
But drag she did, and Evras couldn't be more thankful that help arrived as it did just then. Having received the missive from the Valaoritis lord just a few weeks ago, her new handmaiden had arrived and was training on the basics of serving within the Kotas mansion for the past two weeks, and only now, did Evras summon Roxana to her side to assist her in dressing that morning, before they were to head to the Great Harbor in order to receive the ship.
Careful to not disturb her husband, Evras had instead slipped out to an adjoining room, and dressed quietly with the help of her ladies-in-waiting, in colors of sombre black with a splash of maroon. Choosing to eschew with any jewelry at all, the only thing she wore was earrings and her wedding ring, before instructing the rest of the maids to ensure Dion was appropriately dressed for the event.
By the time she headed down to the foyer of the royal manor, carriages await to carry herself, the Queen, and the three brothers who would meet their eldest and youngest at the Midas harbor. The atmosphere was sombre, as it always had been ever since that fateful day in Nethisa, and it reflected upon the weary, pale look Evras had on that day, the sort of paleness that went far beyond her usual porcelain fairness, no amount of rouge could hide.
She just needed more sleep.
Turning to her new lady-in-waiting, Evras waved for her to come nearer, and murmured, "Roxana, please head out to ensure all carriages are ready to move at a moment's notice." They had no time to waste, for the ship was pulling in soon... and the Crown Prince needed to know his change in position.
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Life as they knew it had been upended.
What did one do, when one suddenly found the plans one had carefully laid out over the course of the last few weeks, turned on its head? It was supposed to be a happy occasion, or at least, Evras had hoped so. Having returned from Nethisa with news that would turn the whole royal family's heirarchy around, Evras had spent a lot of time with the Queen herself. Admiration for her mother-in-law grew, for instead of showing terror and fear, the Queen had stood tall and proud, knowing every bit of duty and strength as she assisted her husband in what must be done in the event of Vangelis now to be crowned King upon his arrival on Colchian soil.
For Evras, she helped the best she could. It was in times like these that she found herself with much, so much more to learn from the Queen. But it did not help that she found herself growing more and more weary, and when she missed the third month of her courses, her sister's words simply further solidified her suspicions that a new life now grew inside of her. Her legs felt leaden on certain days, tough as it was to drag herself out of bed.
But drag she did, and Evras couldn't be more thankful that help arrived as it did just then. Having received the missive from the Valaoritis lord just a few weeks ago, her new handmaiden had arrived and was training on the basics of serving within the Kotas mansion for the past two weeks, and only now, did Evras summon Roxana to her side to assist her in dressing that morning, before they were to head to the Great Harbor in order to receive the ship.
Careful to not disturb her husband, Evras had instead slipped out to an adjoining room, and dressed quietly with the help of her ladies-in-waiting, in colors of sombre black with a splash of maroon. Choosing to eschew with any jewelry at all, the only thing she wore was earrings and her wedding ring, before instructing the rest of the maids to ensure Dion was appropriately dressed for the event.
By the time she headed down to the foyer of the royal manor, carriages await to carry herself, the Queen, and the three brothers who would meet their eldest and youngest at the Midas harbor. The atmosphere was sombre, as it always had been ever since that fateful day in Nethisa, and it reflected upon the weary, pale look Evras had on that day, the sort of paleness that went far beyond her usual porcelain fairness, no amount of rouge could hide.
She just needed more sleep.
Turning to her new lady-in-waiting, Evras waved for her to come nearer, and murmured, "Roxana, please head out to ensure all carriages are ready to move at a moment's notice." They had no time to waste, for the ship was pulling in soon... and the Crown Prince needed to know his change in position.
Life as they knew it had been upended.
What did one do, when one suddenly found the plans one had carefully laid out over the course of the last few weeks, turned on its head? It was supposed to be a happy occasion, or at least, Evras had hoped so. Having returned from Nethisa with news that would turn the whole royal family's heirarchy around, Evras had spent a lot of time with the Queen herself. Admiration for her mother-in-law grew, for instead of showing terror and fear, the Queen had stood tall and proud, knowing every bit of duty and strength as she assisted her husband in what must be done in the event of Vangelis now to be crowned King upon his arrival on Colchian soil.
For Evras, she helped the best she could. It was in times like these that she found herself with much, so much more to learn from the Queen. But it did not help that she found herself growing more and more weary, and when she missed the third month of her courses, her sister's words simply further solidified her suspicions that a new life now grew inside of her. Her legs felt leaden on certain days, tough as it was to drag herself out of bed.
But drag she did, and Evras couldn't be more thankful that help arrived as it did just then. Having received the missive from the Valaoritis lord just a few weeks ago, her new handmaiden had arrived and was training on the basics of serving within the Kotas mansion for the past two weeks, and only now, did Evras summon Roxana to her side to assist her in dressing that morning, before they were to head to the Great Harbor in order to receive the ship.
Careful to not disturb her husband, Evras had instead slipped out to an adjoining room, and dressed quietly with the help of her ladies-in-waiting, in colors of sombre black with a splash of maroon. Choosing to eschew with any jewelry at all, the only thing she wore was earrings and her wedding ring, before instructing the rest of the maids to ensure Dion was appropriately dressed for the event.
By the time she headed down to the foyer of the royal manor, carriages await to carry herself, the Queen, and the three brothers who would meet their eldest and youngest at the Midas harbor. The atmosphere was sombre, as it always had been ever since that fateful day in Nethisa, and it reflected upon the weary, pale look Evras had on that day, the sort of paleness that went far beyond her usual porcelain fairness, no amount of rouge could hide.
She just needed more sleep.
Turning to her new lady-in-waiting, Evras waved for her to come nearer, and murmured, "Roxana, please head out to ensure all carriages are ready to move at a moment's notice." They had no time to waste, for the ship was pulling in soon... and the Crown Prince needed to know his change in position.
Roxana had been chosen to assist Evras during what was both an auspicious and tragic time. The extra hands were well needed so she had been necessary and appreciated so far. And there was so much to do that she always looked busy because she always tended to actually be busy. The honeymoon stage of a new employee finding where they can slack off or buyer's remorse from the employer was not there and likely would not come up.
Each night, Roxana went to sleep in a lush bed, fit for nearly a princess, and felt tired in a good way, as if she had accomplished something. It felt so different from clamoring around her cousins' drama and family name to feel like she was making any dents in the world around her. She was her own person here, away from the concealment and protection of the household. People looked at her and spoke to her as if she was somebody and she could finally act as if she wasn't invisible. She didn't have to hide or disappear in order to keep people from asking questions.
She had learned so much in the past few weeks. Hair, jewelry, makeup, dress, fashion, politics, gossip, boys, men, who was up in coming, who was no longer relevant, what she had been doing wrong with her own hair and dress all this time, and so much more. She felt as if Tim and Sil would hardly recognize her when they saw her again. Seeing Silanos here was very unlikely, however.
The truth was Roxana looked only a little different from her time in service. Although her dress was more refined, the true change was her confidence; she was somebody now, important, recognized, and in good company. She walked with the pride that came with being a member of the royal house's inner workings and one that did her job well. Prone to bouts of laziness before, she now took on work with a certain joy. Still, she was wearing a fine chiton this day and even though it was not in the merry colors she preferred, she felt like royalty in it.
Today was not a time for pride or joy and it felt more like a funeral than a welcoming party and for good reason. There would be shock and probably grief. Certainly much talk of death and mortality. Still, Roxana couldn't help but look forward to it. She would be the among the first to see the new king set foot in his kingdom, rub elbows with people of high class, high money, and high status, see all the wonderful garments and styles, and be in a place of importance to witness. Of course, she showed none of this excitement outwardly and mirrored the sober mood around her.
"Roxana..."
Her head snapped toward the sound of her name and she was suddenly alert to hear the needs of the princess. As for that, the princess was paler and more tired in recent days and Roxana had suggested she fetch a physician once. She thought little of it afterwards because recent events and stressors had caused everyone to be out of sorts. It was perfectly understandable for Evras to be more weary after the king's demise.
"...please head out to ensure all carriages are ready to move at a moment's notice."
"Yes, your highness." She bowed her head and was off in a moment, trotting to the front of the caravan and speaking with the driver, "Her highness wishes to make sure there will be no delays once word to move is given." He agreed and Roxana went down the line, running a hand over the flank of a horse here and there as she spoke to the drivers.
Once back to her place, she addressed Evras, "They are all ready to move at a word, your highness." A horse impatiently called out in that moment as if agreeing with her.
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Roxana had been chosen to assist Evras during what was both an auspicious and tragic time. The extra hands were well needed so she had been necessary and appreciated so far. And there was so much to do that she always looked busy because she always tended to actually be busy. The honeymoon stage of a new employee finding where they can slack off or buyer's remorse from the employer was not there and likely would not come up.
Each night, Roxana went to sleep in a lush bed, fit for nearly a princess, and felt tired in a good way, as if she had accomplished something. It felt so different from clamoring around her cousins' drama and family name to feel like she was making any dents in the world around her. She was her own person here, away from the concealment and protection of the household. People looked at her and spoke to her as if she was somebody and she could finally act as if she wasn't invisible. She didn't have to hide or disappear in order to keep people from asking questions.
She had learned so much in the past few weeks. Hair, jewelry, makeup, dress, fashion, politics, gossip, boys, men, who was up in coming, who was no longer relevant, what she had been doing wrong with her own hair and dress all this time, and so much more. She felt as if Tim and Sil would hardly recognize her when they saw her again. Seeing Silanos here was very unlikely, however.
The truth was Roxana looked only a little different from her time in service. Although her dress was more refined, the true change was her confidence; she was somebody now, important, recognized, and in good company. She walked with the pride that came with being a member of the royal house's inner workings and one that did her job well. Prone to bouts of laziness before, she now took on work with a certain joy. Still, she was wearing a fine chiton this day and even though it was not in the merry colors she preferred, she felt like royalty in it.
Today was not a time for pride or joy and it felt more like a funeral than a welcoming party and for good reason. There would be shock and probably grief. Certainly much talk of death and mortality. Still, Roxana couldn't help but look forward to it. She would be the among the first to see the new king set foot in his kingdom, rub elbows with people of high class, high money, and high status, see all the wonderful garments and styles, and be in a place of importance to witness. Of course, she showed none of this excitement outwardly and mirrored the sober mood around her.
"Roxana..."
Her head snapped toward the sound of her name and she was suddenly alert to hear the needs of the princess. As for that, the princess was paler and more tired in recent days and Roxana had suggested she fetch a physician once. She thought little of it afterwards because recent events and stressors had caused everyone to be out of sorts. It was perfectly understandable for Evras to be more weary after the king's demise.
"...please head out to ensure all carriages are ready to move at a moment's notice."
"Yes, your highness." She bowed her head and was off in a moment, trotting to the front of the caravan and speaking with the driver, "Her highness wishes to make sure there will be no delays once word to move is given." He agreed and Roxana went down the line, running a hand over the flank of a horse here and there as she spoke to the drivers.
Once back to her place, she addressed Evras, "They are all ready to move at a word, your highness." A horse impatiently called out in that moment as if agreeing with her.
Roxana had been chosen to assist Evras during what was both an auspicious and tragic time. The extra hands were well needed so she had been necessary and appreciated so far. And there was so much to do that she always looked busy because she always tended to actually be busy. The honeymoon stage of a new employee finding where they can slack off or buyer's remorse from the employer was not there and likely would not come up.
Each night, Roxana went to sleep in a lush bed, fit for nearly a princess, and felt tired in a good way, as if she had accomplished something. It felt so different from clamoring around her cousins' drama and family name to feel like she was making any dents in the world around her. She was her own person here, away from the concealment and protection of the household. People looked at her and spoke to her as if she was somebody and she could finally act as if she wasn't invisible. She didn't have to hide or disappear in order to keep people from asking questions.
She had learned so much in the past few weeks. Hair, jewelry, makeup, dress, fashion, politics, gossip, boys, men, who was up in coming, who was no longer relevant, what she had been doing wrong with her own hair and dress all this time, and so much more. She felt as if Tim and Sil would hardly recognize her when they saw her again. Seeing Silanos here was very unlikely, however.
The truth was Roxana looked only a little different from her time in service. Although her dress was more refined, the true change was her confidence; she was somebody now, important, recognized, and in good company. She walked with the pride that came with being a member of the royal house's inner workings and one that did her job well. Prone to bouts of laziness before, she now took on work with a certain joy. Still, she was wearing a fine chiton this day and even though it was not in the merry colors she preferred, she felt like royalty in it.
Today was not a time for pride or joy and it felt more like a funeral than a welcoming party and for good reason. There would be shock and probably grief. Certainly much talk of death and mortality. Still, Roxana couldn't help but look forward to it. She would be the among the first to see the new king set foot in his kingdom, rub elbows with people of high class, high money, and high status, see all the wonderful garments and styles, and be in a place of importance to witness. Of course, she showed none of this excitement outwardly and mirrored the sober mood around her.
"Roxana..."
Her head snapped toward the sound of her name and she was suddenly alert to hear the needs of the princess. As for that, the princess was paler and more tired in recent days and Roxana had suggested she fetch a physician once. She thought little of it afterwards because recent events and stressors had caused everyone to be out of sorts. It was perfectly understandable for Evras to be more weary after the king's demise.
"...please head out to ensure all carriages are ready to move at a moment's notice."
"Yes, your highness." She bowed her head and was off in a moment, trotting to the front of the caravan and speaking with the driver, "Her highness wishes to make sure there will be no delays once word to move is given." He agreed and Roxana went down the line, running a hand over the flank of a horse here and there as she spoke to the drivers.
Once back to her place, she addressed Evras, "They are all ready to move at a word, your highness." A horse impatiently called out in that moment as if agreeing with her.
The news of the King's passing spread from Nethisa to Midas to every inch of the kingdom within days, including Arcanaes. Leto had quite enjoyed her stay with Lady Iolanthe, getting to know the woman that she so strongly wished to be her future sister-in-law and learning what seemed like a lifetime's worth of courtesy and etiquette in a matter of weeks. Somehow, her time with Iolanthe did not seem to make the prospect of higher society a burden and a loss of freedom as much as it did almost a new hobby of sorts - a skill to be honed.
All of the charm and excitement with that seemed to be dashed as soon as news reached them. Leto, of course, chose to return home to her mother and father, nearly begging Lady Iolanthe to pay a visit or even to stay with them should she choose to return to the capital for the coronation. After a short journey there, riding swiftly through the mountains and down to the capital, arriving with more daylight left than she thought possible.
Days passed until the Crown Prince's ship was destined to arrive, along with his entire party, including Magnus. Leto had his horse prepared so that upon his arrival he would not have to walk back either home or to the Kotas manor as she imagined he would be needed. Leto led his horse behind her own, though she rode slowly through the town after a crier announced the impending arrival of the Kotas ship, and wore a dark blue and dark grey long-chiton, with her hair coiled and only a thin silver chain dipping deep below her collarbones with an owl pendant in honor of Athena.
Crowds were starting to arrive, with more every minute as they poured in through the city streets and down to the harbor. Many made way for her as she dismounted and led the horses down along the winding cliffside roads.
Begging her pardon to all along the way and then asking the way to the appropriate dock for their arrival, Leto wove through the crowd. Before long, she found her way down the docks, politely informing a guard in Kotas colors that she was delivering a horse for the Master Informer upon his arrival. Once permitted, she passed through, pausing just shy of where several prominent noble families were collecting.
Looking out way over the water, there was the slightest of smudges seeming to float over the glistening waves, what she could only imagine was the ship bearing her brother, their party, and their new King.
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The news of the King's passing spread from Nethisa to Midas to every inch of the kingdom within days, including Arcanaes. Leto had quite enjoyed her stay with Lady Iolanthe, getting to know the woman that she so strongly wished to be her future sister-in-law and learning what seemed like a lifetime's worth of courtesy and etiquette in a matter of weeks. Somehow, her time with Iolanthe did not seem to make the prospect of higher society a burden and a loss of freedom as much as it did almost a new hobby of sorts - a skill to be honed.
All of the charm and excitement with that seemed to be dashed as soon as news reached them. Leto, of course, chose to return home to her mother and father, nearly begging Lady Iolanthe to pay a visit or even to stay with them should she choose to return to the capital for the coronation. After a short journey there, riding swiftly through the mountains and down to the capital, arriving with more daylight left than she thought possible.
Days passed until the Crown Prince's ship was destined to arrive, along with his entire party, including Magnus. Leto had his horse prepared so that upon his arrival he would not have to walk back either home or to the Kotas manor as she imagined he would be needed. Leto led his horse behind her own, though she rode slowly through the town after a crier announced the impending arrival of the Kotas ship, and wore a dark blue and dark grey long-chiton, with her hair coiled and only a thin silver chain dipping deep below her collarbones with an owl pendant in honor of Athena.
Crowds were starting to arrive, with more every minute as they poured in through the city streets and down to the harbor. Many made way for her as she dismounted and led the horses down along the winding cliffside roads.
Begging her pardon to all along the way and then asking the way to the appropriate dock for their arrival, Leto wove through the crowd. Before long, she found her way down the docks, politely informing a guard in Kotas colors that she was delivering a horse for the Master Informer upon his arrival. Once permitted, she passed through, pausing just shy of where several prominent noble families were collecting.
Looking out way over the water, there was the slightest of smudges seeming to float over the glistening waves, what she could only imagine was the ship bearing her brother, their party, and their new King.
The news of the King's passing spread from Nethisa to Midas to every inch of the kingdom within days, including Arcanaes. Leto had quite enjoyed her stay with Lady Iolanthe, getting to know the woman that she so strongly wished to be her future sister-in-law and learning what seemed like a lifetime's worth of courtesy and etiquette in a matter of weeks. Somehow, her time with Iolanthe did not seem to make the prospect of higher society a burden and a loss of freedom as much as it did almost a new hobby of sorts - a skill to be honed.
All of the charm and excitement with that seemed to be dashed as soon as news reached them. Leto, of course, chose to return home to her mother and father, nearly begging Lady Iolanthe to pay a visit or even to stay with them should she choose to return to the capital for the coronation. After a short journey there, riding swiftly through the mountains and down to the capital, arriving with more daylight left than she thought possible.
Days passed until the Crown Prince's ship was destined to arrive, along with his entire party, including Magnus. Leto had his horse prepared so that upon his arrival he would not have to walk back either home or to the Kotas manor as she imagined he would be needed. Leto led his horse behind her own, though she rode slowly through the town after a crier announced the impending arrival of the Kotas ship, and wore a dark blue and dark grey long-chiton, with her hair coiled and only a thin silver chain dipping deep below her collarbones with an owl pendant in honor of Athena.
Crowds were starting to arrive, with more every minute as they poured in through the city streets and down to the harbor. Many made way for her as she dismounted and led the horses down along the winding cliffside roads.
Begging her pardon to all along the way and then asking the way to the appropriate dock for their arrival, Leto wove through the crowd. Before long, she found her way down the docks, politely informing a guard in Kotas colors that she was delivering a horse for the Master Informer upon his arrival. Once permitted, she passed through, pausing just shy of where several prominent noble families were collecting.
Looking out way over the water, there was the slightest of smudges seeming to float over the glistening waves, what she could only imagine was the ship bearing her brother, their party, and their new King.
As a man of rank, and as a citizen of Colchis, Maleos wished to attend the arrival of the Crown Prince, the man who would be their new King, as he sailed into the docks. As far as Maleos knew, the man was oblivious to the recent finding of the sunken ship and the news it had brought with it. He had arrived early, stood apart from the various noble families who had begun arriving shortly before the Captain himself. He was dressed respectfully, for once his black curls were tamed, tied tightly back behind his head, and he had taken the time to trim his facial hair. It was a rare occasion to see Maleos quite that groomed, but this was one of those occasions in which it seemed appropriate.
Of course, without fail, his trusty sword was sheathed at his side, he never went any where without it. His men assumed that their Captain slept with the sword at his side, a story which he actually found rather amusing himself.
His hand rested on the hilt as he stood, feeling the cool metal on his skin and recalling a few of his favourite battles, the forged metal had never let him down, and a tiny hint of a smile came to his face as he remembered just a few short days ago when he had once again run into the woman who had sold him on the sword. Back then, a girl. Full of confidence and knowledge of swords that matched his own. Leto.
He had to admit, he had grown a little fond of her, as kids when they met, the two of them had gotten along, and again when they ran into each other outside of the temples, they had hit it off. Maleos had to admit, it wasn’t often he felt a connection to someone, and he wondered if perhaps this was what it felt to have romantic attraction to someone. He thought he’d felt it before, but this was different somehow. Either way, he thought they would make good friends regardless.
He was pulled out of his wandering thoughts by the sound of a familiar voice, and he looked over only to spot the exact person he had just been thinking about, as if his thoughts had summoned her. He paused for a moment, debating approaching her. He decided he would, if she did not wish to speak with him, he felt she would say so, she did not seem to shy away from speaking what was on her mind.
He carefully made his way through the small crowd that separated them, approaching her in a manner that ensured she would see him before he spoke.
“My lady.” He greeted, giving her a small bow. “It seems the Fates have wished us to meet once more while we remain in Midas.” He said, a tiny ghost of a smile on his lips, which was a huge grin when it came to Maleos’ facial expressions.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As a man of rank, and as a citizen of Colchis, Maleos wished to attend the arrival of the Crown Prince, the man who would be their new King, as he sailed into the docks. As far as Maleos knew, the man was oblivious to the recent finding of the sunken ship and the news it had brought with it. He had arrived early, stood apart from the various noble families who had begun arriving shortly before the Captain himself. He was dressed respectfully, for once his black curls were tamed, tied tightly back behind his head, and he had taken the time to trim his facial hair. It was a rare occasion to see Maleos quite that groomed, but this was one of those occasions in which it seemed appropriate.
Of course, without fail, his trusty sword was sheathed at his side, he never went any where without it. His men assumed that their Captain slept with the sword at his side, a story which he actually found rather amusing himself.
His hand rested on the hilt as he stood, feeling the cool metal on his skin and recalling a few of his favourite battles, the forged metal had never let him down, and a tiny hint of a smile came to his face as he remembered just a few short days ago when he had once again run into the woman who had sold him on the sword. Back then, a girl. Full of confidence and knowledge of swords that matched his own. Leto.
He had to admit, he had grown a little fond of her, as kids when they met, the two of them had gotten along, and again when they ran into each other outside of the temples, they had hit it off. Maleos had to admit, it wasn’t often he felt a connection to someone, and he wondered if perhaps this was what it felt to have romantic attraction to someone. He thought he’d felt it before, but this was different somehow. Either way, he thought they would make good friends regardless.
He was pulled out of his wandering thoughts by the sound of a familiar voice, and he looked over only to spot the exact person he had just been thinking about, as if his thoughts had summoned her. He paused for a moment, debating approaching her. He decided he would, if she did not wish to speak with him, he felt she would say so, she did not seem to shy away from speaking what was on her mind.
He carefully made his way through the small crowd that separated them, approaching her in a manner that ensured she would see him before he spoke.
“My lady.” He greeted, giving her a small bow. “It seems the Fates have wished us to meet once more while we remain in Midas.” He said, a tiny ghost of a smile on his lips, which was a huge grin when it came to Maleos’ facial expressions.
As a man of rank, and as a citizen of Colchis, Maleos wished to attend the arrival of the Crown Prince, the man who would be their new King, as he sailed into the docks. As far as Maleos knew, the man was oblivious to the recent finding of the sunken ship and the news it had brought with it. He had arrived early, stood apart from the various noble families who had begun arriving shortly before the Captain himself. He was dressed respectfully, for once his black curls were tamed, tied tightly back behind his head, and he had taken the time to trim his facial hair. It was a rare occasion to see Maleos quite that groomed, but this was one of those occasions in which it seemed appropriate.
Of course, without fail, his trusty sword was sheathed at his side, he never went any where without it. His men assumed that their Captain slept with the sword at his side, a story which he actually found rather amusing himself.
His hand rested on the hilt as he stood, feeling the cool metal on his skin and recalling a few of his favourite battles, the forged metal had never let him down, and a tiny hint of a smile came to his face as he remembered just a few short days ago when he had once again run into the woman who had sold him on the sword. Back then, a girl. Full of confidence and knowledge of swords that matched his own. Leto.
He had to admit, he had grown a little fond of her, as kids when they met, the two of them had gotten along, and again when they ran into each other outside of the temples, they had hit it off. Maleos had to admit, it wasn’t often he felt a connection to someone, and he wondered if perhaps this was what it felt to have romantic attraction to someone. He thought he’d felt it before, but this was different somehow. Either way, he thought they would make good friends regardless.
He was pulled out of his wandering thoughts by the sound of a familiar voice, and he looked over only to spot the exact person he had just been thinking about, as if his thoughts had summoned her. He paused for a moment, debating approaching her. He decided he would, if she did not wish to speak with him, he felt she would say so, she did not seem to shy away from speaking what was on her mind.
He carefully made his way through the small crowd that separated them, approaching her in a manner that ensured she would see him before he spoke.
“My lady.” He greeted, giving her a small bow. “It seems the Fates have wished us to meet once more while we remain in Midas.” He said, a tiny ghost of a smile on his lips, which was a huge grin when it came to Maleos’ facial expressions.
He hadn’t wanted to come. Not only because of the unwelcome knowledge that the Blood General was not likely his biggest fan, though Silanos could admit that played a not too insignificant part, but because this seemed like a grim way to break the news to the Crown Prince that he was no longer just that. Who wanted an audience to their grief? But Timaeus had been adamant. As Vassal house to the Kotas family, their presence would be expected. It was non-negotiable, he said. Yelled actually, if Sil recalled correctly.
He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he surveyed the gathered crowd with heavy eyes. Now that his brother seemed intent on making his house arrest an actual thing, it had been harder to get his hands on his usual support mechanisms. Which meant he was dreaming again. Which meant he was doing his damndest not to sleep. The lord rolled his shoulders, and then heaved a sigh as he caught sight of the man next to him.
Personal guard Timaeus said, but Silanos had named him the jailor, for it felt more apt. Like an unwanted shadow, the soldier dogged his steps. Sil got up, jailor got up. Sil went outside, jailor went outside. Sil went to bathe, jailor went...Well no. He’d drawn the line there, shut the door forcibly in the man’s face and still the guard had been there when he emerged later, much to Sil’s disgust.
“This must be quite the novelty for you” he said, tiredness making him irritable and peevish. “Lords and Ladies, Princes and Kings. Quite the excitement”. It annoyed him more than anything that he was forced into making conversation with the soldier. For in spite of his usual defiance, Sil did not dare set a foot out of line this time.
He’d deliberately hung back at the edge of the party waiting to greet the returning Prince, set himself well away from anyone of import, away from his brother who of course was eager to show his support for the Royal family. Even the sight of Leto making her way through the crowds was not enough to spur him into engaging with her, and so he watched only a little resentfully as she stopped to speak with Maleos of all people, who was without doubt one of the dullest men Silanos had ever had the misfortune of conversing with. It was probably why he got on so well with Timaeus.
Still. Maleos was not having to hide away at the back of a crowd in an attempt not to get his head chopped off, Silanos thought. He was more nervous than he liked to admit at Vangelis’ return, and there was a terribly selfish relief that the man would likely be kept busy for the forseeable future. Maybe even so busy that Sil’s indiscretions would just fade into obscurity and life could go back to some kind of normalcy. It was a fair hope.
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He hadn’t wanted to come. Not only because of the unwelcome knowledge that the Blood General was not likely his biggest fan, though Silanos could admit that played a not too insignificant part, but because this seemed like a grim way to break the news to the Crown Prince that he was no longer just that. Who wanted an audience to their grief? But Timaeus had been adamant. As Vassal house to the Kotas family, their presence would be expected. It was non-negotiable, he said. Yelled actually, if Sil recalled correctly.
He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he surveyed the gathered crowd with heavy eyes. Now that his brother seemed intent on making his house arrest an actual thing, it had been harder to get his hands on his usual support mechanisms. Which meant he was dreaming again. Which meant he was doing his damndest not to sleep. The lord rolled his shoulders, and then heaved a sigh as he caught sight of the man next to him.
Personal guard Timaeus said, but Silanos had named him the jailor, for it felt more apt. Like an unwanted shadow, the soldier dogged his steps. Sil got up, jailor got up. Sil went outside, jailor went outside. Sil went to bathe, jailor went...Well no. He’d drawn the line there, shut the door forcibly in the man’s face and still the guard had been there when he emerged later, much to Sil’s disgust.
“This must be quite the novelty for you” he said, tiredness making him irritable and peevish. “Lords and Ladies, Princes and Kings. Quite the excitement”. It annoyed him more than anything that he was forced into making conversation with the soldier. For in spite of his usual defiance, Sil did not dare set a foot out of line this time.
He’d deliberately hung back at the edge of the party waiting to greet the returning Prince, set himself well away from anyone of import, away from his brother who of course was eager to show his support for the Royal family. Even the sight of Leto making her way through the crowds was not enough to spur him into engaging with her, and so he watched only a little resentfully as she stopped to speak with Maleos of all people, who was without doubt one of the dullest men Silanos had ever had the misfortune of conversing with. It was probably why he got on so well with Timaeus.
Still. Maleos was not having to hide away at the back of a crowd in an attempt not to get his head chopped off, Silanos thought. He was more nervous than he liked to admit at Vangelis’ return, and there was a terribly selfish relief that the man would likely be kept busy for the forseeable future. Maybe even so busy that Sil’s indiscretions would just fade into obscurity and life could go back to some kind of normalcy. It was a fair hope.
He hadn’t wanted to come. Not only because of the unwelcome knowledge that the Blood General was not likely his biggest fan, though Silanos could admit that played a not too insignificant part, but because this seemed like a grim way to break the news to the Crown Prince that he was no longer just that. Who wanted an audience to their grief? But Timaeus had been adamant. As Vassal house to the Kotas family, their presence would be expected. It was non-negotiable, he said. Yelled actually, if Sil recalled correctly.
He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he surveyed the gathered crowd with heavy eyes. Now that his brother seemed intent on making his house arrest an actual thing, it had been harder to get his hands on his usual support mechanisms. Which meant he was dreaming again. Which meant he was doing his damndest not to sleep. The lord rolled his shoulders, and then heaved a sigh as he caught sight of the man next to him.
Personal guard Timaeus said, but Silanos had named him the jailor, for it felt more apt. Like an unwanted shadow, the soldier dogged his steps. Sil got up, jailor got up. Sil went outside, jailor went outside. Sil went to bathe, jailor went...Well no. He’d drawn the line there, shut the door forcibly in the man’s face and still the guard had been there when he emerged later, much to Sil’s disgust.
“This must be quite the novelty for you” he said, tiredness making him irritable and peevish. “Lords and Ladies, Princes and Kings. Quite the excitement”. It annoyed him more than anything that he was forced into making conversation with the soldier. For in spite of his usual defiance, Sil did not dare set a foot out of line this time.
He’d deliberately hung back at the edge of the party waiting to greet the returning Prince, set himself well away from anyone of import, away from his brother who of course was eager to show his support for the Royal family. Even the sight of Leto making her way through the crowds was not enough to spur him into engaging with her, and so he watched only a little resentfully as she stopped to speak with Maleos of all people, who was without doubt one of the dullest men Silanos had ever had the misfortune of conversing with. It was probably why he got on so well with Timaeus.
Still. Maleos was not having to hide away at the back of a crowd in an attempt not to get his head chopped off, Silanos thought. He was more nervous than he liked to admit at Vangelis’ return, and there was a terribly selfish relief that the man would likely be kept busy for the forseeable future. Maybe even so busy that Sil’s indiscretions would just fade into obscurity and life could go back to some kind of normalcy. It was a fair hope.
Daxos was not happy with his posting. After receiving a personal request from the Baron, Daxos was at first ecstatic. A personal request from the baron himself? That's a big step towards a promotion. Even after finding out he'd be guarding his little brother he wasn't too upset, a cushiony job watching a nobleman? He'd spend more time at home, at least he thought, and that meant more time with his lovely daughter. But of course, things had not been so cheery.
Immediately Silanos had taken to a dislike of Daxos. He supposed he didn't blame him. After learning of what his duties actually were, he went from ecstatic to outright annoyed. He was not a babysitter. He was a soldier, a man of Colchis, a Man of the Heights. He was to be fighting, guarding important places and people, not babysitting some small man child who couldn't keep his cock in his pants.
Despite this, Daxos took to his new posting with vigor, and followed the young man everywhere. He didn't say much to the young man, he wasn't sure they'd have much in common, a nobleman spoon fed his whole life and a soldier who'd done nothing but struggle for everything he ever worked for. He didn't inherently dislike the boy, he didn't really seem malicious, or even a real hassle. Daxos really couldn't blame him for his animosity towards him, but he had hoped that the young nobleman would at least try to coexist with him. Fat chance of that.
He went with him to the back of the large party, standing quietly and foreboding, staring at anyone trying to get too close to the young man. Of course it was unintentional. He was tired, having very little sleep with watching the young man who rarely slept himself, causing him to only get a few hours of sleep at best. He himself was irritated. He pulled out a small waterflask and took a small sip, noting that slight burn of alcohol. It was watered down of course. He'd never do his job drunk. But he needed a little something to get him through this.
Daxos also noted Maleos and waved at him, if he saw him, and waited patiently, hoping that this days would end soon. The old King was dead, and a new King was on his way. It should be an interesting day, but as a man of the spear and shield, he could care less who ran the country, he was a weapon. Whoever it was that pointed and said kill in the name of Colchis, he would do it. He sighed and offered the waterskin to Silanos, "This might make this a bit more bearable." This was maybe only the third or fourth line he uttered to the young man. He hoped this might make the days to come a bit more bearable.
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Daxos was not happy with his posting. After receiving a personal request from the Baron, Daxos was at first ecstatic. A personal request from the baron himself? That's a big step towards a promotion. Even after finding out he'd be guarding his little brother he wasn't too upset, a cushiony job watching a nobleman? He'd spend more time at home, at least he thought, and that meant more time with his lovely daughter. But of course, things had not been so cheery.
Immediately Silanos had taken to a dislike of Daxos. He supposed he didn't blame him. After learning of what his duties actually were, he went from ecstatic to outright annoyed. He was not a babysitter. He was a soldier, a man of Colchis, a Man of the Heights. He was to be fighting, guarding important places and people, not babysitting some small man child who couldn't keep his cock in his pants.
Despite this, Daxos took to his new posting with vigor, and followed the young man everywhere. He didn't say much to the young man, he wasn't sure they'd have much in common, a nobleman spoon fed his whole life and a soldier who'd done nothing but struggle for everything he ever worked for. He didn't inherently dislike the boy, he didn't really seem malicious, or even a real hassle. Daxos really couldn't blame him for his animosity towards him, but he had hoped that the young nobleman would at least try to coexist with him. Fat chance of that.
He went with him to the back of the large party, standing quietly and foreboding, staring at anyone trying to get too close to the young man. Of course it was unintentional. He was tired, having very little sleep with watching the young man who rarely slept himself, causing him to only get a few hours of sleep at best. He himself was irritated. He pulled out a small waterflask and took a small sip, noting that slight burn of alcohol. It was watered down of course. He'd never do his job drunk. But he needed a little something to get him through this.
Daxos also noted Maleos and waved at him, if he saw him, and waited patiently, hoping that this days would end soon. The old King was dead, and a new King was on his way. It should be an interesting day, but as a man of the spear and shield, he could care less who ran the country, he was a weapon. Whoever it was that pointed and said kill in the name of Colchis, he would do it. He sighed and offered the waterskin to Silanos, "This might make this a bit more bearable." This was maybe only the third or fourth line he uttered to the young man. He hoped this might make the days to come a bit more bearable.
Daxos was not happy with his posting. After receiving a personal request from the Baron, Daxos was at first ecstatic. A personal request from the baron himself? That's a big step towards a promotion. Even after finding out he'd be guarding his little brother he wasn't too upset, a cushiony job watching a nobleman? He'd spend more time at home, at least he thought, and that meant more time with his lovely daughter. But of course, things had not been so cheery.
Immediately Silanos had taken to a dislike of Daxos. He supposed he didn't blame him. After learning of what his duties actually were, he went from ecstatic to outright annoyed. He was not a babysitter. He was a soldier, a man of Colchis, a Man of the Heights. He was to be fighting, guarding important places and people, not babysitting some small man child who couldn't keep his cock in his pants.
Despite this, Daxos took to his new posting with vigor, and followed the young man everywhere. He didn't say much to the young man, he wasn't sure they'd have much in common, a nobleman spoon fed his whole life and a soldier who'd done nothing but struggle for everything he ever worked for. He didn't inherently dislike the boy, he didn't really seem malicious, or even a real hassle. Daxos really couldn't blame him for his animosity towards him, but he had hoped that the young nobleman would at least try to coexist with him. Fat chance of that.
He went with him to the back of the large party, standing quietly and foreboding, staring at anyone trying to get too close to the young man. Of course it was unintentional. He was tired, having very little sleep with watching the young man who rarely slept himself, causing him to only get a few hours of sleep at best. He himself was irritated. He pulled out a small waterflask and took a small sip, noting that slight burn of alcohol. It was watered down of course. He'd never do his job drunk. But he needed a little something to get him through this.
Daxos also noted Maleos and waved at him, if he saw him, and waited patiently, hoping that this days would end soon. The old King was dead, and a new King was on his way. It should be an interesting day, but as a man of the spear and shield, he could care less who ran the country, he was a weapon. Whoever it was that pointed and said kill in the name of Colchis, he would do it. He sighed and offered the waterskin to Silanos, "This might make this a bit more bearable." This was maybe only the third or fourth line he uttered to the young man. He hoped this might make the days to come a bit more bearable.
Making his way down the cliffside on horseback Silas found himself imagining the inevitable descent into the underworld. A journey his father had all too recently taken. One that everyone knew would come to pass at some point and yet had not truly anticipated to come when it did. The clop of Daphne’s hooves upon the stone was a constant. A steady beat that gave his mind the freedom to roam. Whether good or bad was debatable, but it would not stop the inevitable. People moved of their own accord for the broad beast or perhaps for the man who sat upon it. There was no mistaking him for anyone but who he was at that point; adorned him his armor with the family’s sigil upon his chest. The deep red cloak of his family’s colors secured at his shoulders to drape down his back and pool behind him on the saddle.
Eventually the steadying rhythm of hoofbeats changed from one tone to another as the decline flattened and the mare stepped onto the surface that would lead onto the docks. Blinking away his thoughts and the demons that catered to them he allowed his gaze to move over those who had gathered. Faceless bodies who created a crowd that seemed as effervescent as the froth on the top of the waves and every bit as hollow. They were excited to see their new King. To welcome him back to Colchis with excitement, when in truth his ascent to King came by way of their father’s death. Silas might have been excited to see his brother, but he was not excited to bare any bad tidings. That was a job he would leave to someone with a great deal more tact.
He didn’t dismount as he made his way through the crowd, instead he just kept urging the mare along. If he’d thought Agrios could have handled the commotion he might have opted for him instead, but that was not to be the case. The mare was far more reliable when it came to things like this. A saner animal as it were. One that did not mind being used as a living battering ram to force people apart. Once he was past the guards and the mass of people then he would consider dismounting. Setting himself up he glanced around once again, taking in what familiar faces had managed to get past the guards. Some were far less surprising than others. The rest of his family had not yet arrived, but that wasn’t entirely surprising. Royalty did tend to move at their own leisurely pace. Nevertheless he rather wished that he wasn’t the first to arrive.
Being the first royal face at the dock was a great deal of pressure and at that moment he didn’t really feel all that keen on being the face of the family. Taking a solidifying breath he adjusted his hands over his reins and sat back into his saddle. Dismounting would have opened himself up to conversation. More so than if he kept himself just as he was. A stoic face with a rigid set to his shoulders. A surprisingly serious image for one who was typically known to be the most agreeable of the Kotas brothers. Nothing quite like death to sober someone up; least of all someone who already struggled with regulating his emotions.
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Making his way down the cliffside on horseback Silas found himself imagining the inevitable descent into the underworld. A journey his father had all too recently taken. One that everyone knew would come to pass at some point and yet had not truly anticipated to come when it did. The clop of Daphne’s hooves upon the stone was a constant. A steady beat that gave his mind the freedom to roam. Whether good or bad was debatable, but it would not stop the inevitable. People moved of their own accord for the broad beast or perhaps for the man who sat upon it. There was no mistaking him for anyone but who he was at that point; adorned him his armor with the family’s sigil upon his chest. The deep red cloak of his family’s colors secured at his shoulders to drape down his back and pool behind him on the saddle.
Eventually the steadying rhythm of hoofbeats changed from one tone to another as the decline flattened and the mare stepped onto the surface that would lead onto the docks. Blinking away his thoughts and the demons that catered to them he allowed his gaze to move over those who had gathered. Faceless bodies who created a crowd that seemed as effervescent as the froth on the top of the waves and every bit as hollow. They were excited to see their new King. To welcome him back to Colchis with excitement, when in truth his ascent to King came by way of their father’s death. Silas might have been excited to see his brother, but he was not excited to bare any bad tidings. That was a job he would leave to someone with a great deal more tact.
He didn’t dismount as he made his way through the crowd, instead he just kept urging the mare along. If he’d thought Agrios could have handled the commotion he might have opted for him instead, but that was not to be the case. The mare was far more reliable when it came to things like this. A saner animal as it were. One that did not mind being used as a living battering ram to force people apart. Once he was past the guards and the mass of people then he would consider dismounting. Setting himself up he glanced around once again, taking in what familiar faces had managed to get past the guards. Some were far less surprising than others. The rest of his family had not yet arrived, but that wasn’t entirely surprising. Royalty did tend to move at their own leisurely pace. Nevertheless he rather wished that he wasn’t the first to arrive.
Being the first royal face at the dock was a great deal of pressure and at that moment he didn’t really feel all that keen on being the face of the family. Taking a solidifying breath he adjusted his hands over his reins and sat back into his saddle. Dismounting would have opened himself up to conversation. More so than if he kept himself just as he was. A stoic face with a rigid set to his shoulders. A surprisingly serious image for one who was typically known to be the most agreeable of the Kotas brothers. Nothing quite like death to sober someone up; least of all someone who already struggled with regulating his emotions.
Making his way down the cliffside on horseback Silas found himself imagining the inevitable descent into the underworld. A journey his father had all too recently taken. One that everyone knew would come to pass at some point and yet had not truly anticipated to come when it did. The clop of Daphne’s hooves upon the stone was a constant. A steady beat that gave his mind the freedom to roam. Whether good or bad was debatable, but it would not stop the inevitable. People moved of their own accord for the broad beast or perhaps for the man who sat upon it. There was no mistaking him for anyone but who he was at that point; adorned him his armor with the family’s sigil upon his chest. The deep red cloak of his family’s colors secured at his shoulders to drape down his back and pool behind him on the saddle.
Eventually the steadying rhythm of hoofbeats changed from one tone to another as the decline flattened and the mare stepped onto the surface that would lead onto the docks. Blinking away his thoughts and the demons that catered to them he allowed his gaze to move over those who had gathered. Faceless bodies who created a crowd that seemed as effervescent as the froth on the top of the waves and every bit as hollow. They were excited to see their new King. To welcome him back to Colchis with excitement, when in truth his ascent to King came by way of their father’s death. Silas might have been excited to see his brother, but he was not excited to bare any bad tidings. That was a job he would leave to someone with a great deal more tact.
He didn’t dismount as he made his way through the crowd, instead he just kept urging the mare along. If he’d thought Agrios could have handled the commotion he might have opted for him instead, but that was not to be the case. The mare was far more reliable when it came to things like this. A saner animal as it were. One that did not mind being used as a living battering ram to force people apart. Once he was past the guards and the mass of people then he would consider dismounting. Setting himself up he glanced around once again, taking in what familiar faces had managed to get past the guards. Some were far less surprising than others. The rest of his family had not yet arrived, but that wasn’t entirely surprising. Royalty did tend to move at their own leisurely pace. Nevertheless he rather wished that he wasn’t the first to arrive.
Being the first royal face at the dock was a great deal of pressure and at that moment he didn’t really feel all that keen on being the face of the family. Taking a solidifying breath he adjusted his hands over his reins and sat back into his saddle. Dismounting would have opened himself up to conversation. More so than if he kept himself just as he was. A stoic face with a rigid set to his shoulders. A surprisingly serious image for one who was typically known to be the most agreeable of the Kotas brothers. Nothing quite like death to sober someone up; least of all someone who already struggled with regulating his emotions.
The past few days had been nothing short of a haze of grief and duties for the young baron. As a loyal vassal to the Kotas family, Timaeus had been at Zanon’s side, assisting the man in whatever way he could since the grim discovery in Nethisa. He had done his best to lift some of the weight off of the new crown prince’s shoulders and serve as a pillar from the man who could have been very easily swallowed by the grief that Timaeus knew all too well. His own father’s death had been a mere four years prior and the guilt of not being there still burdened the man, even though it could only be seen whenever the twenty-four-year-old gave in to the allure of alcohol. Although he had refused to admit it himself, Timaeus had been determined to not see Zanon fall victim to the same cycle that haunted his nights. He could not stand idly by and watch the same fate of a fractured family befall the Kotas as it had done for the Valaoritis.
But it had been a delicate balance and Timaeus did not know if his efforts had paid off… or if they would amount to nothing the moment Vangelis would emerge from his ship’s hold; unaware of the fact he was now king. As Timaeus made his way through the streets of Midas, down to the docks where he would be expected to greet the former crown prince, it did not fail to cross his mind that he knew that the eldest Kotas did not think kindly of him. He had forewarning that the man knew of the deception Timaeus had played on Zanon several months prior. Even though his lied stemmed from necessity, as it had been the only thing that the baron could have done to save his fool of a brother, it still resulted in a boy’s death. It didn’t matter that the victim had been a slave of the Valaoritis household. It was still a crime in the eyes of the gods and had been witnessed by the new king.
It was a sin that the Valaoritis would have to atone for.
Timaeus did not know the price that Vangelis would demand or when the summons for a meeting would come, but the Baron knew that it was not something that would end very favorably for him. All he could do was pray to the gods for forgiveness and hope for mercy from the Blood General. He was likely to receive neither forms of salvation, but there was nothing more that he could do save for contain his brother and keep a low presence in Midas for the time being. He had wanted to do nothing to remind the Crown Prince that the Valaoritis even existed, but that could no longer happen. Not when he was expected to be present for the return of Vangelis and be one of the first faces that the man saw upon learning that his father was dead.
There would be no way for Tim to be inconspicuous at such an event. Not when he was expected to be there on behalf of his house and would most likely have to swear fealty to the new King before Vangelis left the docks. This didn’t mean that he attempted to have a muted arrival though. Appearing alone, on the back of his preferred chestnut steed, Thrasos, the Baron circled the crowd, his eyes flickering through the faces for those that he knew. A glimmer of black curls on the far edge showed him that Maleos was present. Not too far from him was the sulky figure of his brother, faithfully being shadowed by Daxos, a man that Tim was considering to be worthy of a promotion. He was pleased to see that Sil was here, given how important that all the Valaoritis were accounted for at such an event.
As he made his way closer to the dock edge though, he was surprised to see that the youngest of his family had yet to arrive though. His cousin, Roxana, had recently been hired by Princess Evras to be a lady in waiting and was now a part of the Kotas household rather than the one of her illegitimate birth. He had not seen or heard much from her since the change had occurred and as somber as the events of the day would be, he had been looking forward to having a chance to speak with her before Vangelis had arrived. As resentful as she may be that he would not give her the family name, Timaeus still saw the girl as his younger sister and he missed her presence in the manor. The protective side of him wanted to make sure that she was okay and be reassured that the decision to let her join Evras’s staff had not been a mistake. It would have been a small ray of sunshine in a rather dreary day, but it seemed he would have to wait as neither she nor the Kotas family was there yet.
Hiding his disappointment for this lost opportunity, Timaeus quickly dismounted from his horse when he reached the small gap that had been made for the family when they would arrive. His eyes scanned the crowd and the horizon, looking solemnly for signs for either the crown prince or the ship that carried their new king. It was difficult, but he tried to ignore the uneasiness that came with being within such an unfamiliar, somber crowd who were all waiting for a prince who did not yet know he was a king.
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The past few days had been nothing short of a haze of grief and duties for the young baron. As a loyal vassal to the Kotas family, Timaeus had been at Zanon’s side, assisting the man in whatever way he could since the grim discovery in Nethisa. He had done his best to lift some of the weight off of the new crown prince’s shoulders and serve as a pillar from the man who could have been very easily swallowed by the grief that Timaeus knew all too well. His own father’s death had been a mere four years prior and the guilt of not being there still burdened the man, even though it could only be seen whenever the twenty-four-year-old gave in to the allure of alcohol. Although he had refused to admit it himself, Timaeus had been determined to not see Zanon fall victim to the same cycle that haunted his nights. He could not stand idly by and watch the same fate of a fractured family befall the Kotas as it had done for the Valaoritis.
But it had been a delicate balance and Timaeus did not know if his efforts had paid off… or if they would amount to nothing the moment Vangelis would emerge from his ship’s hold; unaware of the fact he was now king. As Timaeus made his way through the streets of Midas, down to the docks where he would be expected to greet the former crown prince, it did not fail to cross his mind that he knew that the eldest Kotas did not think kindly of him. He had forewarning that the man knew of the deception Timaeus had played on Zanon several months prior. Even though his lied stemmed from necessity, as it had been the only thing that the baron could have done to save his fool of a brother, it still resulted in a boy’s death. It didn’t matter that the victim had been a slave of the Valaoritis household. It was still a crime in the eyes of the gods and had been witnessed by the new king.
It was a sin that the Valaoritis would have to atone for.
Timaeus did not know the price that Vangelis would demand or when the summons for a meeting would come, but the Baron knew that it was not something that would end very favorably for him. All he could do was pray to the gods for forgiveness and hope for mercy from the Blood General. He was likely to receive neither forms of salvation, but there was nothing more that he could do save for contain his brother and keep a low presence in Midas for the time being. He had wanted to do nothing to remind the Crown Prince that the Valaoritis even existed, but that could no longer happen. Not when he was expected to be present for the return of Vangelis and be one of the first faces that the man saw upon learning that his father was dead.
There would be no way for Tim to be inconspicuous at such an event. Not when he was expected to be there on behalf of his house and would most likely have to swear fealty to the new King before Vangelis left the docks. This didn’t mean that he attempted to have a muted arrival though. Appearing alone, on the back of his preferred chestnut steed, Thrasos, the Baron circled the crowd, his eyes flickering through the faces for those that he knew. A glimmer of black curls on the far edge showed him that Maleos was present. Not too far from him was the sulky figure of his brother, faithfully being shadowed by Daxos, a man that Tim was considering to be worthy of a promotion. He was pleased to see that Sil was here, given how important that all the Valaoritis were accounted for at such an event.
As he made his way closer to the dock edge though, he was surprised to see that the youngest of his family had yet to arrive though. His cousin, Roxana, had recently been hired by Princess Evras to be a lady in waiting and was now a part of the Kotas household rather than the one of her illegitimate birth. He had not seen or heard much from her since the change had occurred and as somber as the events of the day would be, he had been looking forward to having a chance to speak with her before Vangelis had arrived. As resentful as she may be that he would not give her the family name, Timaeus still saw the girl as his younger sister and he missed her presence in the manor. The protective side of him wanted to make sure that she was okay and be reassured that the decision to let her join Evras’s staff had not been a mistake. It would have been a small ray of sunshine in a rather dreary day, but it seemed he would have to wait as neither she nor the Kotas family was there yet.
Hiding his disappointment for this lost opportunity, Timaeus quickly dismounted from his horse when he reached the small gap that had been made for the family when they would arrive. His eyes scanned the crowd and the horizon, looking solemnly for signs for either the crown prince or the ship that carried their new king. It was difficult, but he tried to ignore the uneasiness that came with being within such an unfamiliar, somber crowd who were all waiting for a prince who did not yet know he was a king.
The past few days had been nothing short of a haze of grief and duties for the young baron. As a loyal vassal to the Kotas family, Timaeus had been at Zanon’s side, assisting the man in whatever way he could since the grim discovery in Nethisa. He had done his best to lift some of the weight off of the new crown prince’s shoulders and serve as a pillar from the man who could have been very easily swallowed by the grief that Timaeus knew all too well. His own father’s death had been a mere four years prior and the guilt of not being there still burdened the man, even though it could only be seen whenever the twenty-four-year-old gave in to the allure of alcohol. Although he had refused to admit it himself, Timaeus had been determined to not see Zanon fall victim to the same cycle that haunted his nights. He could not stand idly by and watch the same fate of a fractured family befall the Kotas as it had done for the Valaoritis.
But it had been a delicate balance and Timaeus did not know if his efforts had paid off… or if they would amount to nothing the moment Vangelis would emerge from his ship’s hold; unaware of the fact he was now king. As Timaeus made his way through the streets of Midas, down to the docks where he would be expected to greet the former crown prince, it did not fail to cross his mind that he knew that the eldest Kotas did not think kindly of him. He had forewarning that the man knew of the deception Timaeus had played on Zanon several months prior. Even though his lied stemmed from necessity, as it had been the only thing that the baron could have done to save his fool of a brother, it still resulted in a boy’s death. It didn’t matter that the victim had been a slave of the Valaoritis household. It was still a crime in the eyes of the gods and had been witnessed by the new king.
It was a sin that the Valaoritis would have to atone for.
Timaeus did not know the price that Vangelis would demand or when the summons for a meeting would come, but the Baron knew that it was not something that would end very favorably for him. All he could do was pray to the gods for forgiveness and hope for mercy from the Blood General. He was likely to receive neither forms of salvation, but there was nothing more that he could do save for contain his brother and keep a low presence in Midas for the time being. He had wanted to do nothing to remind the Crown Prince that the Valaoritis even existed, but that could no longer happen. Not when he was expected to be present for the return of Vangelis and be one of the first faces that the man saw upon learning that his father was dead.
There would be no way for Tim to be inconspicuous at such an event. Not when he was expected to be there on behalf of his house and would most likely have to swear fealty to the new King before Vangelis left the docks. This didn’t mean that he attempted to have a muted arrival though. Appearing alone, on the back of his preferred chestnut steed, Thrasos, the Baron circled the crowd, his eyes flickering through the faces for those that he knew. A glimmer of black curls on the far edge showed him that Maleos was present. Not too far from him was the sulky figure of his brother, faithfully being shadowed by Daxos, a man that Tim was considering to be worthy of a promotion. He was pleased to see that Sil was here, given how important that all the Valaoritis were accounted for at such an event.
As he made his way closer to the dock edge though, he was surprised to see that the youngest of his family had yet to arrive though. His cousin, Roxana, had recently been hired by Princess Evras to be a lady in waiting and was now a part of the Kotas household rather than the one of her illegitimate birth. He had not seen or heard much from her since the change had occurred and as somber as the events of the day would be, he had been looking forward to having a chance to speak with her before Vangelis had arrived. As resentful as she may be that he would not give her the family name, Timaeus still saw the girl as his younger sister and he missed her presence in the manor. The protective side of him wanted to make sure that she was okay and be reassured that the decision to let her join Evras’s staff had not been a mistake. It would have been a small ray of sunshine in a rather dreary day, but it seemed he would have to wait as neither she nor the Kotas family was there yet.
Hiding his disappointment for this lost opportunity, Timaeus quickly dismounted from his horse when he reached the small gap that had been made for the family when they would arrive. His eyes scanned the crowd and the horizon, looking solemnly for signs for either the crown prince or the ship that carried their new king. It was difficult, but he tried to ignore the uneasiness that came with being within such an unfamiliar, somber crowd who were all waiting for a prince who did not yet know he was a king.
It had taken them twelve days plus an additional night (given that they set sail under cover of darkness) to journey from Taengea to Colchis. And over that time, the vessel had grown smaller the longer they were at sea. Each guest on board seemed wrapped in their own difficulties and personal tensions, so that the populace of the ship felt three times that of its true cargo. Vangelis might not have been the most experienced in human interaction and the subtle signs of personal distaste or awkwardness but even he was fully able to recognise the difficulties that mapped out a complex web across those who had escaped from the Taengean palace.
The Queen Olympia had been abed for almost the entire journey. Her labour had been excessive and painful and, as far as anyone on board (none of whom had any real experience with human childbirth) was concerned, the advent of the young would-be princess (for did she count at such with her discredited father?) had been far in excess of the normal trials and horrors of such an event. It had only been within the last few days that it had been reported that Olympia was beginning to find her feet - that she was able to move around the cabin below deck and even explore the ship's upper levels if she did so in short periods and at a very slow pace.
When such events occurred, the Lady Selene had been in charge of holding and caring for the baby. A child that Vangelis wasn't certain her father had touched since her birth. Not that he paid too close attention. The Queen kept to the cabin that had once been Athanasia and Imeeya's, whilst his sister and cousin had taken up residence in his own. Selene remained with Olympia and Stephanos... Well, he hadn't actually seen Stephanos sleep much in the last few weeks. Had the man taken to snoozing standing up, or camping out on deck with the sailors, as Nike and he had been doing?
Regardless, the entire atmosphere for the guests on board was awkward to say the least. Including between he and Selene.
A woman that he normally felt so at ease speaking with, their friendship had started to twist and turn into something he didn't yet have a name for. They were neither acquaintances, nor lovers, and whenever he tried to define them as one or the other, something happened to throw it out of sorts. If they were friends, Selene should not have asked of him what she did in Taengea. If they were lovers... well, they would be lovers. Instead, they had come to occupy an awkward no-man's land where they were too close to be considered simple friends - close enough to make demands from each other that normal companions would not. But had not stepped into the realm of romance.
Did he even want them to?
With everything that had been going on, both in Taengea and since they began their journey, Vangelis had had little time to ponder on it. And in the time that he did have open to it, his mind naturally shied away from it. It had been a very long time - if ever - that Vangelis had had a friend (a female friend - Nike didn't count) with whom he was as close as Selene. It went against his natural instincts to attention to shift her into a different category. Especially when he had rarely respected the women who fell into the "lover" status in his life. Most were just greedy individuals hoping to become Queen of Colchis. Or they were women whom he saw in their professional capacity as whores or priestesses simply to fulfil a basic need. It felt wrong for Selene to be classed alongside such women...
Ergo, he was no further in finding an answer to the matter when the shorelines of Colchis came into view.
At a call from the captain to confirm the landmass ahead was that of Kos, Vangelis didn't need to be assured it was his home isle of the Kirakles. He would know that horizon anywhere...
With a soft... settling sort of feeling in his chest, Vangelis breathed the salty air in deep, feeling as if he were discovering a part of himself that he had lost. It was the same feeling he always had glowing in his lower rib cage when he arrived back in Colchis after his many sojourn away from the islands. No matter how much time he spent in the Northern Lands or performing his princely duties between the Grecian kingdoms, Colchis had always and would always be his home...
Calling out orders and instructions as needed, Vangelis told a cabin boy to inform the ladies below that they were bearing down on Colchis and would be docking in just over an hour. He then helped the crew where needed, before moving to stand at the front of the ship. He went so far as to step up onto the wooden wall and hold into a sailing rig to get a better look as his home became larger and clearer to his eye.
As promise, an hour later, the ship was navigating around rocks and outcroppings to pick its way carefully towards the Midas Harbour. One of the largest docks was open and free, indicating at the watchers had spotted the Kotas vessel some time ago and arranged for an open space for the arriving prince and company.
The vessel was quick to be lashed into place and the gangplank settled for disembarkment. There had been no time to inform his family just how many of them would be arriving when the boat drew home so the disembarkment itself was likely to be a surprise to the surprisingly large number of people gathered to witness the party's return.
Despite the feeling of warm satisfaction to have returned to native soil, Vangelis' expression was as granite as normal as he stepped up onto the gangway and presented himself as alive and well - a declaration he did not yet know was so required.
Looking back to check on the others, he waved Athanasia and then Imeeya forward so that they would descend with him - as was their right as royal Colchian blood. For now, the tables were turned and their rescued friends were now the guests of royalty, rather than the other way around...
After ensuring himself that bags and what limited luggage they all had was being handled by sailors and transferred to waiting servants, not to mention that Queen Olympia was being adequately supported in her efforts to leave the ship, Vangelis descended the plank to the docks and in six long strides was able to reach out and clasp the waiting arm of his brother in greeting of his return...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It had taken them twelve days plus an additional night (given that they set sail under cover of darkness) to journey from Taengea to Colchis. And over that time, the vessel had grown smaller the longer they were at sea. Each guest on board seemed wrapped in their own difficulties and personal tensions, so that the populace of the ship felt three times that of its true cargo. Vangelis might not have been the most experienced in human interaction and the subtle signs of personal distaste or awkwardness but even he was fully able to recognise the difficulties that mapped out a complex web across those who had escaped from the Taengean palace.
The Queen Olympia had been abed for almost the entire journey. Her labour had been excessive and painful and, as far as anyone on board (none of whom had any real experience with human childbirth) was concerned, the advent of the young would-be princess (for did she count at such with her discredited father?) had been far in excess of the normal trials and horrors of such an event. It had only been within the last few days that it had been reported that Olympia was beginning to find her feet - that she was able to move around the cabin below deck and even explore the ship's upper levels if she did so in short periods and at a very slow pace.
When such events occurred, the Lady Selene had been in charge of holding and caring for the baby. A child that Vangelis wasn't certain her father had touched since her birth. Not that he paid too close attention. The Queen kept to the cabin that had once been Athanasia and Imeeya's, whilst his sister and cousin had taken up residence in his own. Selene remained with Olympia and Stephanos... Well, he hadn't actually seen Stephanos sleep much in the last few weeks. Had the man taken to snoozing standing up, or camping out on deck with the sailors, as Nike and he had been doing?
Regardless, the entire atmosphere for the guests on board was awkward to say the least. Including between he and Selene.
A woman that he normally felt so at ease speaking with, their friendship had started to twist and turn into something he didn't yet have a name for. They were neither acquaintances, nor lovers, and whenever he tried to define them as one or the other, something happened to throw it out of sorts. If they were friends, Selene should not have asked of him what she did in Taengea. If they were lovers... well, they would be lovers. Instead, they had come to occupy an awkward no-man's land where they were too close to be considered simple friends - close enough to make demands from each other that normal companions would not. But had not stepped into the realm of romance.
Did he even want them to?
With everything that had been going on, both in Taengea and since they began their journey, Vangelis had had little time to ponder on it. And in the time that he did have open to it, his mind naturally shied away from it. It had been a very long time - if ever - that Vangelis had had a friend (a female friend - Nike didn't count) with whom he was as close as Selene. It went against his natural instincts to attention to shift her into a different category. Especially when he had rarely respected the women who fell into the "lover" status in his life. Most were just greedy individuals hoping to become Queen of Colchis. Or they were women whom he saw in their professional capacity as whores or priestesses simply to fulfil a basic need. It felt wrong for Selene to be classed alongside such women...
Ergo, he was no further in finding an answer to the matter when the shorelines of Colchis came into view.
At a call from the captain to confirm the landmass ahead was that of Kos, Vangelis didn't need to be assured it was his home isle of the Kirakles. He would know that horizon anywhere...
With a soft... settling sort of feeling in his chest, Vangelis breathed the salty air in deep, feeling as if he were discovering a part of himself that he had lost. It was the same feeling he always had glowing in his lower rib cage when he arrived back in Colchis after his many sojourn away from the islands. No matter how much time he spent in the Northern Lands or performing his princely duties between the Grecian kingdoms, Colchis had always and would always be his home...
Calling out orders and instructions as needed, Vangelis told a cabin boy to inform the ladies below that they were bearing down on Colchis and would be docking in just over an hour. He then helped the crew where needed, before moving to stand at the front of the ship. He went so far as to step up onto the wooden wall and hold into a sailing rig to get a better look as his home became larger and clearer to his eye.
As promise, an hour later, the ship was navigating around rocks and outcroppings to pick its way carefully towards the Midas Harbour. One of the largest docks was open and free, indicating at the watchers had spotted the Kotas vessel some time ago and arranged for an open space for the arriving prince and company.
The vessel was quick to be lashed into place and the gangplank settled for disembarkment. There had been no time to inform his family just how many of them would be arriving when the boat drew home so the disembarkment itself was likely to be a surprise to the surprisingly large number of people gathered to witness the party's return.
Despite the feeling of warm satisfaction to have returned to native soil, Vangelis' expression was as granite as normal as he stepped up onto the gangway and presented himself as alive and well - a declaration he did not yet know was so required.
Looking back to check on the others, he waved Athanasia and then Imeeya forward so that they would descend with him - as was their right as royal Colchian blood. For now, the tables were turned and their rescued friends were now the guests of royalty, rather than the other way around...
After ensuring himself that bags and what limited luggage they all had was being handled by sailors and transferred to waiting servants, not to mention that Queen Olympia was being adequately supported in her efforts to leave the ship, Vangelis descended the plank to the docks and in six long strides was able to reach out and clasp the waiting arm of his brother in greeting of his return...
It had taken them twelve days plus an additional night (given that they set sail under cover of darkness) to journey from Taengea to Colchis. And over that time, the vessel had grown smaller the longer they were at sea. Each guest on board seemed wrapped in their own difficulties and personal tensions, so that the populace of the ship felt three times that of its true cargo. Vangelis might not have been the most experienced in human interaction and the subtle signs of personal distaste or awkwardness but even he was fully able to recognise the difficulties that mapped out a complex web across those who had escaped from the Taengean palace.
The Queen Olympia had been abed for almost the entire journey. Her labour had been excessive and painful and, as far as anyone on board (none of whom had any real experience with human childbirth) was concerned, the advent of the young would-be princess (for did she count at such with her discredited father?) had been far in excess of the normal trials and horrors of such an event. It had only been within the last few days that it had been reported that Olympia was beginning to find her feet - that she was able to move around the cabin below deck and even explore the ship's upper levels if she did so in short periods and at a very slow pace.
When such events occurred, the Lady Selene had been in charge of holding and caring for the baby. A child that Vangelis wasn't certain her father had touched since her birth. Not that he paid too close attention. The Queen kept to the cabin that had once been Athanasia and Imeeya's, whilst his sister and cousin had taken up residence in his own. Selene remained with Olympia and Stephanos... Well, he hadn't actually seen Stephanos sleep much in the last few weeks. Had the man taken to snoozing standing up, or camping out on deck with the sailors, as Nike and he had been doing?
Regardless, the entire atmosphere for the guests on board was awkward to say the least. Including between he and Selene.
A woman that he normally felt so at ease speaking with, their friendship had started to twist and turn into something he didn't yet have a name for. They were neither acquaintances, nor lovers, and whenever he tried to define them as one or the other, something happened to throw it out of sorts. If they were friends, Selene should not have asked of him what she did in Taengea. If they were lovers... well, they would be lovers. Instead, they had come to occupy an awkward no-man's land where they were too close to be considered simple friends - close enough to make demands from each other that normal companions would not. But had not stepped into the realm of romance.
Did he even want them to?
With everything that had been going on, both in Taengea and since they began their journey, Vangelis had had little time to ponder on it. And in the time that he did have open to it, his mind naturally shied away from it. It had been a very long time - if ever - that Vangelis had had a friend (a female friend - Nike didn't count) with whom he was as close as Selene. It went against his natural instincts to attention to shift her into a different category. Especially when he had rarely respected the women who fell into the "lover" status in his life. Most were just greedy individuals hoping to become Queen of Colchis. Or they were women whom he saw in their professional capacity as whores or priestesses simply to fulfil a basic need. It felt wrong for Selene to be classed alongside such women...
Ergo, he was no further in finding an answer to the matter when the shorelines of Colchis came into view.
At a call from the captain to confirm the landmass ahead was that of Kos, Vangelis didn't need to be assured it was his home isle of the Kirakles. He would know that horizon anywhere...
With a soft... settling sort of feeling in his chest, Vangelis breathed the salty air in deep, feeling as if he were discovering a part of himself that he had lost. It was the same feeling he always had glowing in his lower rib cage when he arrived back in Colchis after his many sojourn away from the islands. No matter how much time he spent in the Northern Lands or performing his princely duties between the Grecian kingdoms, Colchis had always and would always be his home...
Calling out orders and instructions as needed, Vangelis told a cabin boy to inform the ladies below that they were bearing down on Colchis and would be docking in just over an hour. He then helped the crew where needed, before moving to stand at the front of the ship. He went so far as to step up onto the wooden wall and hold into a sailing rig to get a better look as his home became larger and clearer to his eye.
As promise, an hour later, the ship was navigating around rocks and outcroppings to pick its way carefully towards the Midas Harbour. One of the largest docks was open and free, indicating at the watchers had spotted the Kotas vessel some time ago and arranged for an open space for the arriving prince and company.
The vessel was quick to be lashed into place and the gangplank settled for disembarkment. There had been no time to inform his family just how many of them would be arriving when the boat drew home so the disembarkment itself was likely to be a surprise to the surprisingly large number of people gathered to witness the party's return.
Despite the feeling of warm satisfaction to have returned to native soil, Vangelis' expression was as granite as normal as he stepped up onto the gangway and presented himself as alive and well - a declaration he did not yet know was so required.
Looking back to check on the others, he waved Athanasia and then Imeeya forward so that they would descend with him - as was their right as royal Colchian blood. For now, the tables were turned and their rescued friends were now the guests of royalty, rather than the other way around...
After ensuring himself that bags and what limited luggage they all had was being handled by sailors and transferred to waiting servants, not to mention that Queen Olympia was being adequately supported in her efforts to leave the ship, Vangelis descended the plank to the docks and in six long strides was able to reach out and clasp the waiting arm of his brother in greeting of his return...
Zanon could not remember the last time he’d slept, or eaten for that matter. When news of his brother’s ship being spotted crossed his hands he managed a bath and a change of his simple clothes for something more befitting his station. Ever since his father’s body had been found he had taken on not only Vangelis’ duties but his father’s, and acting as king was something the second prince had ever desired. His mother said he was grieving to anyone who asked, grieving but handling the work given to him to maintain the status of the kingdom. Only she knew a portion of what truly ailed him. Yanni was not one to believe in all of her son’s foolish ideas, but she kept an eye out for the same trouble.
Nethis was biding her time it seemed, making sure that the death of the king was not placed on her shoulders though the man’s son was convinced she was at fault. He was still waiting for her to try to kill him. In spite of Vangelis’ parting warning he found he trusted only his mother, brothers, and Timaeus. The baron had proven himself in the time since the passing of the old king to be an ally against the grips of the Thanasi.
When he joined his family he was silent, beard and hair unkempt aside from the rushed attempt at brushing it so his circlet could be placed upon his head by one of the slaves. Another still carried the old King’s crown on a cushion, covered by a protective cloth until he was to call for it. There had been no time or way to warn his brother ahead of time, and though he had considered trying to get Vangelis into the palace and surrounded by family before telling him, the city would not have been able to keep the secret. So now he had to rely on his brother’s strength in this and hope that the crowd stayed as small as possible.
His stomach was in knots and his throat tightened as he spotted Vang’s familiar silhouette descending to the dock. The others around him barely registered, and as the eldest Kotas approached, Zan clasped his arm in return as he bowed before him, going down on one knee in front of his brother. He hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be not to cry. But he was no child and he wouldn’t weep in front of all of these people and the gods.
”Long live the king.”
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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Zanon could not remember the last time he’d slept, or eaten for that matter. When news of his brother’s ship being spotted crossed his hands he managed a bath and a change of his simple clothes for something more befitting his station. Ever since his father’s body had been found he had taken on not only Vangelis’ duties but his father’s, and acting as king was something the second prince had ever desired. His mother said he was grieving to anyone who asked, grieving but handling the work given to him to maintain the status of the kingdom. Only she knew a portion of what truly ailed him. Yanni was not one to believe in all of her son’s foolish ideas, but she kept an eye out for the same trouble.
Nethis was biding her time it seemed, making sure that the death of the king was not placed on her shoulders though the man’s son was convinced she was at fault. He was still waiting for her to try to kill him. In spite of Vangelis’ parting warning he found he trusted only his mother, brothers, and Timaeus. The baron had proven himself in the time since the passing of the old king to be an ally against the grips of the Thanasi.
When he joined his family he was silent, beard and hair unkempt aside from the rushed attempt at brushing it so his circlet could be placed upon his head by one of the slaves. Another still carried the old King’s crown on a cushion, covered by a protective cloth until he was to call for it. There had been no time or way to warn his brother ahead of time, and though he had considered trying to get Vangelis into the palace and surrounded by family before telling him, the city would not have been able to keep the secret. So now he had to rely on his brother’s strength in this and hope that the crowd stayed as small as possible.
His stomach was in knots and his throat tightened as he spotted Vang’s familiar silhouette descending to the dock. The others around him barely registered, and as the eldest Kotas approached, Zan clasped his arm in return as he bowed before him, going down on one knee in front of his brother. He hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be not to cry. But he was no child and he wouldn’t weep in front of all of these people and the gods.
”Long live the king.”
Zanon could not remember the last time he’d slept, or eaten for that matter. When news of his brother’s ship being spotted crossed his hands he managed a bath and a change of his simple clothes for something more befitting his station. Ever since his father’s body had been found he had taken on not only Vangelis’ duties but his father’s, and acting as king was something the second prince had ever desired. His mother said he was grieving to anyone who asked, grieving but handling the work given to him to maintain the status of the kingdom. Only she knew a portion of what truly ailed him. Yanni was not one to believe in all of her son’s foolish ideas, but she kept an eye out for the same trouble.
Nethis was biding her time it seemed, making sure that the death of the king was not placed on her shoulders though the man’s son was convinced she was at fault. He was still waiting for her to try to kill him. In spite of Vangelis’ parting warning he found he trusted only his mother, brothers, and Timaeus. The baron had proven himself in the time since the passing of the old king to be an ally against the grips of the Thanasi.
When he joined his family he was silent, beard and hair unkempt aside from the rushed attempt at brushing it so his circlet could be placed upon his head by one of the slaves. Another still carried the old King’s crown on a cushion, covered by a protective cloth until he was to call for it. There had been no time or way to warn his brother ahead of time, and though he had considered trying to get Vangelis into the palace and surrounded by family before telling him, the city would not have been able to keep the secret. So now he had to rely on his brother’s strength in this and hope that the crowd stayed as small as possible.
His stomach was in knots and his throat tightened as he spotted Vang’s familiar silhouette descending to the dock. The others around him barely registered, and as the eldest Kotas approached, Zan clasped his arm in return as he bowed before him, going down on one knee in front of his brother. He hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be not to cry. But he was no child and he wouldn’t weep in front of all of these people and the gods.
”Long live the king.”
Athanasia spent most of the long journey either in the cabin she shared with Imeeya or up on deck entertaining off-duty sailors with her juggling and giving them lessons. They had been wary at first of associating with one of their royal passengers, but nobody protested and soon they felt at ease in her presence. If Vangelis disapproved, he said nothing of it. In truth, she rarely saw him. She saw even less of the Taengeans, who seemed to prefer their privacy. They probably spent their time discussing what would await them when they arrived in Colchis and what they would do if their reception was cold rather than welcoming.
Alone with her thoughts much of the time, Athanasia found herself feeling sorry for the baby princess. King Stephanos and Queen Olympia had most certainly wanted their first child to be a boy. Were they so disappointed that they would relegate her to a nurse's care and ignore her? She supposed that she had been lucky. After four princes, her parents had wanted a princess. She had been cherished for her gender and while she had never been fond of the way the King and Queen doted on her, it was certainly better than being neglected in favor of her brothers. She wanted this new child to have loving parents too and for her to be seen as more than just a bargaining chip in the game of political power.
She determined that she would no longer complain about her parents' overprotective tendencies and she would tell them how much she appreciated them. The only born Colchian princess was also trying to be more ladylike, though she would always be a free spirit who loved to run wild when she was restless. Her trips into the forest and the city would remain her secret. She had no intention of giving up her precious stolen freedom, even after that troubling visit to the brothel where she had seen Lord Silanos again. There had been no more sneaking away for fear of being recognized. Now that an entire month had passed, she doubted that he even remembered what the boy in the brothel had looked like. And he had probably forgotten all about her.
One the day they were due to arrive, she dressed in a bright blue chiton bordered along the edges in gold and fastened along the arms with gold and sapphire fibulae. Over it, she wore a saffron peplos attached at the shoulders with one simple fibula and one made of gold with a topaz in its center. A green knee-length himation was draped below one breast and fastened at the other shoulder with a gold and emerald fibula. It cascaded down around her, its edges coming to points at the ends. Her auburn and gold hair had been brushed until it gleamed and a gold circlet studded with small multicolored jewels had been set upon her head. Athanasia thought that her parents would be pleased with her lovely ensemble, which she had bought while shopping one day.
She had just finished supervising the packing of her things when a cabin boy informed her that they would be docking in about an hour. When she felt the ship slowing, she climbed to the stairs and stood at the railing, her loose tresses drifting upon the gentle breeze. Even though Taengea had been beautiful, she was happy to see the mountains and cliffs of her homeland again. She had not expected so many people to turn out to welcome them home, but then again, she had never traveled before. Maybe this was normal.
The gangplank was lowered and Vang motioned her, along with Imeeya, to join him as he disembarked. The first thing she noticed was how the ground didn't move below her anymore, but she forgot all about that sensation when she saw Zanon move forward to greet them. Her second-oldest brother looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Athanasia had no time to contemplate why that might be, for Zan suddenly knelt before Vang and uttered words she had least expected to hear.
Long live the king.
It took a moment before the realization hit her. Father is gone! Shocked to the core of her being, her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach and the blood drained from her face. Gripping Imeeya's arm, she whispered: “noooo..." A single tear meandered down her cheek and she tried to hold back the flood that threatened to erupt from her eyes.
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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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Athanasia spent most of the long journey either in the cabin she shared with Imeeya or up on deck entertaining off-duty sailors with her juggling and giving them lessons. They had been wary at first of associating with one of their royal passengers, but nobody protested and soon they felt at ease in her presence. If Vangelis disapproved, he said nothing of it. In truth, she rarely saw him. She saw even less of the Taengeans, who seemed to prefer their privacy. They probably spent their time discussing what would await them when they arrived in Colchis and what they would do if their reception was cold rather than welcoming.
Alone with her thoughts much of the time, Athanasia found herself feeling sorry for the baby princess. King Stephanos and Queen Olympia had most certainly wanted their first child to be a boy. Were they so disappointed that they would relegate her to a nurse's care and ignore her? She supposed that she had been lucky. After four princes, her parents had wanted a princess. She had been cherished for her gender and while she had never been fond of the way the King and Queen doted on her, it was certainly better than being neglected in favor of her brothers. She wanted this new child to have loving parents too and for her to be seen as more than just a bargaining chip in the game of political power.
She determined that she would no longer complain about her parents' overprotective tendencies and she would tell them how much she appreciated them. The only born Colchian princess was also trying to be more ladylike, though she would always be a free spirit who loved to run wild when she was restless. Her trips into the forest and the city would remain her secret. She had no intention of giving up her precious stolen freedom, even after that troubling visit to the brothel where she had seen Lord Silanos again. There had been no more sneaking away for fear of being recognized. Now that an entire month had passed, she doubted that he even remembered what the boy in the brothel had looked like. And he had probably forgotten all about her.
One the day they were due to arrive, she dressed in a bright blue chiton bordered along the edges in gold and fastened along the arms with gold and sapphire fibulae. Over it, she wore a saffron peplos attached at the shoulders with one simple fibula and one made of gold with a topaz in its center. A green knee-length himation was draped below one breast and fastened at the other shoulder with a gold and emerald fibula. It cascaded down around her, its edges coming to points at the ends. Her auburn and gold hair had been brushed until it gleamed and a gold circlet studded with small multicolored jewels had been set upon her head. Athanasia thought that her parents would be pleased with her lovely ensemble, which she had bought while shopping one day.
She had just finished supervising the packing of her things when a cabin boy informed her that they would be docking in about an hour. When she felt the ship slowing, she climbed to the stairs and stood at the railing, her loose tresses drifting upon the gentle breeze. Even though Taengea had been beautiful, she was happy to see the mountains and cliffs of her homeland again. She had not expected so many people to turn out to welcome them home, but then again, she had never traveled before. Maybe this was normal.
The gangplank was lowered and Vang motioned her, along with Imeeya, to join him as he disembarked. The first thing she noticed was how the ground didn't move below her anymore, but she forgot all about that sensation when she saw Zanon move forward to greet them. Her second-oldest brother looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Athanasia had no time to contemplate why that might be, for Zan suddenly knelt before Vang and uttered words she had least expected to hear.
Long live the king.
It took a moment before the realization hit her. Father is gone! Shocked to the core of her being, her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach and the blood drained from her face. Gripping Imeeya's arm, she whispered: “noooo..." A single tear meandered down her cheek and she tried to hold back the flood that threatened to erupt from her eyes.
Athanasia spent most of the long journey either in the cabin she shared with Imeeya or up on deck entertaining off-duty sailors with her juggling and giving them lessons. They had been wary at first of associating with one of their royal passengers, but nobody protested and soon they felt at ease in her presence. If Vangelis disapproved, he said nothing of it. In truth, she rarely saw him. She saw even less of the Taengeans, who seemed to prefer their privacy. They probably spent their time discussing what would await them when they arrived in Colchis and what they would do if their reception was cold rather than welcoming.
Alone with her thoughts much of the time, Athanasia found herself feeling sorry for the baby princess. King Stephanos and Queen Olympia had most certainly wanted their first child to be a boy. Were they so disappointed that they would relegate her to a nurse's care and ignore her? She supposed that she had been lucky. After four princes, her parents had wanted a princess. She had been cherished for her gender and while she had never been fond of the way the King and Queen doted on her, it was certainly better than being neglected in favor of her brothers. She wanted this new child to have loving parents too and for her to be seen as more than just a bargaining chip in the game of political power.
She determined that she would no longer complain about her parents' overprotective tendencies and she would tell them how much she appreciated them. The only born Colchian princess was also trying to be more ladylike, though she would always be a free spirit who loved to run wild when she was restless. Her trips into the forest and the city would remain her secret. She had no intention of giving up her precious stolen freedom, even after that troubling visit to the brothel where she had seen Lord Silanos again. There had been no more sneaking away for fear of being recognized. Now that an entire month had passed, she doubted that he even remembered what the boy in the brothel had looked like. And he had probably forgotten all about her.
One the day they were due to arrive, she dressed in a bright blue chiton bordered along the edges in gold and fastened along the arms with gold and sapphire fibulae. Over it, she wore a saffron peplos attached at the shoulders with one simple fibula and one made of gold with a topaz in its center. A green knee-length himation was draped below one breast and fastened at the other shoulder with a gold and emerald fibula. It cascaded down around her, its edges coming to points at the ends. Her auburn and gold hair had been brushed until it gleamed and a gold circlet studded with small multicolored jewels had been set upon her head. Athanasia thought that her parents would be pleased with her lovely ensemble, which she had bought while shopping one day.
She had just finished supervising the packing of her things when a cabin boy informed her that they would be docking in about an hour. When she felt the ship slowing, she climbed to the stairs and stood at the railing, her loose tresses drifting upon the gentle breeze. Even though Taengea had been beautiful, she was happy to see the mountains and cliffs of her homeland again. She had not expected so many people to turn out to welcome them home, but then again, she had never traveled before. Maybe this was normal.
The gangplank was lowered and Vang motioned her, along with Imeeya, to join him as he disembarked. The first thing she noticed was how the ground didn't move below her anymore, but she forgot all about that sensation when she saw Zanon move forward to greet them. Her second-oldest brother looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Athanasia had no time to contemplate why that might be, for Zan suddenly knelt before Vang and uttered words she had least expected to hear.
Long live the king.
It took a moment before the realization hit her. Father is gone! Shocked to the core of her being, her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach and the blood drained from her face. Gripping Imeeya's arm, she whispered: “noooo..." A single tear meandered down her cheek and she tried to hold back the flood that threatened to erupt from her eyes.
It had been a long journey back to Colchis, albeit a more eventful one than the trip there. The birth of the new princess only hours into the journey had set the tone for the rest of the voyage. What time Imeeya wasn’t spending with Asia was spent doing what she could to help care for the child, or nurse Olympia back to health. Luckily the queen had survived the ordeal, but there had been a time at which Imeeya had feared for Olympia’s life. Despite the distractions this time around, Imeeya still found that time on the water did not agree with her stomach. She was greatly looking forward to finally being back home in Colchis and off this cramped and unsteady ship.
When they first spotted shore, she was up on deck, and she watched the thin grey line of home grow larger on the horizon until she was finally shooed below deck so that the men could get the ship ready for docking. When they were safely docked Imeeya rushed up to the deck. “Come on Asia!” She called back to her cousin. “Aren’t you glad to be home? I wonder if my mother and Essa will be here to greet us?” Imeeya then made her way up to the deck, blinking in the sudden bright sunlight as she scanned the shore to see who had come for the ship’s return.
A large crowd had gathered. Larger than Imeeya would have expected, though she supposed it was a crowd befitting the return of the crown prince. Imeeya turned in order to be assured that her possessions were being properly brought up from below before she descended from the ship behind Vangelis and Athanasia. She smiled at her cousin “It’s a good turnout don’t you think?” she asked her cousin nodding to the crowd that had gathered.
But the cheerful mood was broken as Zanon came over to greet the prince. He looked awful as if he hadn’t been sleeping. Imeeya couldn’t understand why he would come to greet his brother’s return in such a state, it seemed almost rude in the disrespect. It wasn’t until the prince spoke that Imeeya understood. Vangelis….king? That could only be the case if the previous king had died. Which meant….that the impossible had happened. As Zanon went to his knee, Imeeya followed his example. Vangelis was now the king, it was only appropriate. Not to mention it meant that she no longer had to stand in front of all the people as she processed the news. A part of her couldn’t believe it. The king had always seemed so strong, so eternal, it seemed inconceivable that he could be dead.
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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It had been a long journey back to Colchis, albeit a more eventful one than the trip there. The birth of the new princess only hours into the journey had set the tone for the rest of the voyage. What time Imeeya wasn’t spending with Asia was spent doing what she could to help care for the child, or nurse Olympia back to health. Luckily the queen had survived the ordeal, but there had been a time at which Imeeya had feared for Olympia’s life. Despite the distractions this time around, Imeeya still found that time on the water did not agree with her stomach. She was greatly looking forward to finally being back home in Colchis and off this cramped and unsteady ship.
When they first spotted shore, she was up on deck, and she watched the thin grey line of home grow larger on the horizon until she was finally shooed below deck so that the men could get the ship ready for docking. When they were safely docked Imeeya rushed up to the deck. “Come on Asia!” She called back to her cousin. “Aren’t you glad to be home? I wonder if my mother and Essa will be here to greet us?” Imeeya then made her way up to the deck, blinking in the sudden bright sunlight as she scanned the shore to see who had come for the ship’s return.
A large crowd had gathered. Larger than Imeeya would have expected, though she supposed it was a crowd befitting the return of the crown prince. Imeeya turned in order to be assured that her possessions were being properly brought up from below before she descended from the ship behind Vangelis and Athanasia. She smiled at her cousin “It’s a good turnout don’t you think?” she asked her cousin nodding to the crowd that had gathered.
But the cheerful mood was broken as Zanon came over to greet the prince. He looked awful as if he hadn’t been sleeping. Imeeya couldn’t understand why he would come to greet his brother’s return in such a state, it seemed almost rude in the disrespect. It wasn’t until the prince spoke that Imeeya understood. Vangelis….king? That could only be the case if the previous king had died. Which meant….that the impossible had happened. As Zanon went to his knee, Imeeya followed his example. Vangelis was now the king, it was only appropriate. Not to mention it meant that she no longer had to stand in front of all the people as she processed the news. A part of her couldn’t believe it. The king had always seemed so strong, so eternal, it seemed inconceivable that he could be dead.
It had been a long journey back to Colchis, albeit a more eventful one than the trip there. The birth of the new princess only hours into the journey had set the tone for the rest of the voyage. What time Imeeya wasn’t spending with Asia was spent doing what she could to help care for the child, or nurse Olympia back to health. Luckily the queen had survived the ordeal, but there had been a time at which Imeeya had feared for Olympia’s life. Despite the distractions this time around, Imeeya still found that time on the water did not agree with her stomach. She was greatly looking forward to finally being back home in Colchis and off this cramped and unsteady ship.
When they first spotted shore, she was up on deck, and she watched the thin grey line of home grow larger on the horizon until she was finally shooed below deck so that the men could get the ship ready for docking. When they were safely docked Imeeya rushed up to the deck. “Come on Asia!” She called back to her cousin. “Aren’t you glad to be home? I wonder if my mother and Essa will be here to greet us?” Imeeya then made her way up to the deck, blinking in the sudden bright sunlight as she scanned the shore to see who had come for the ship’s return.
A large crowd had gathered. Larger than Imeeya would have expected, though she supposed it was a crowd befitting the return of the crown prince. Imeeya turned in order to be assured that her possessions were being properly brought up from below before she descended from the ship behind Vangelis and Athanasia. She smiled at her cousin “It’s a good turnout don’t you think?” she asked her cousin nodding to the crowd that had gathered.
But the cheerful mood was broken as Zanon came over to greet the prince. He looked awful as if he hadn’t been sleeping. Imeeya couldn’t understand why he would come to greet his brother’s return in such a state, it seemed almost rude in the disrespect. It wasn’t until the prince spoke that Imeeya understood. Vangelis….king? That could only be the case if the previous king had died. Which meant….that the impossible had happened. As Zanon went to his knee, Imeeya followed his example. Vangelis was now the king, it was only appropriate. Not to mention it meant that she no longer had to stand in front of all the people as she processed the news. A part of her couldn’t believe it. The king had always seemed so strong, so eternal, it seemed inconceivable that he could be dead.
Trying to define her relationship with Vangelis felt like a puzzle with no solution.
She had thought that it was friendship, up until the moment she found herself thinking that it was more. And when she sought clarity on the issue from him, all she did was make it more confusing. She had kissed him, out of nowhere and didn’t give any chance for an explanation, too embarrassed by her actions to do anything but run from him. Then, before they could even work out what had happened, her sister was imprisoned with death over her head.
And Selene stressed the relationship further.
Refusing to listen when he told her it was impossible, she had pressed him into action in whatever way she could. She had needed him with a desperation she had never known, and wouldn’t be denied in her actions. If he hadn’t been able to help her, she had been willing to risk everything for her sister. And that love, it seemed, had been enough to make him find a solution that worked itself out in the end.
Now, having spent days on the boat pretty much dancing around each other, without really talking about feelings or emotions, Selene didn’t know one way or another if he even still considered her a friend. She had ruined one of the most important connections she had made, and while the reward was worth the risk, the loss that came with it was painful. Olympia hadn’t asked anything about the escape, mostly too weak from child bearing to think about anything more than feeding her child and resting. Where Selene could have, at one time, spoken with her about it, now she was unable. The Leventi curse had struck again, when nothing was needed more than a prince.
Selene had watched her mother suffer through ‘the curse’ each time a daughter was born instead of a son. And never once did she remember seeing her father react as Stephanos had. The little girl was precious in her mind, and it certainly wasn’t her fault she was born the wrong gender. Disappointment was one thing, outright disgust was quite another. With Pia so weak from the birth of the princess, Selene most often found herself caring for the small child. She never would have expected to bond so quickly with a child. And yet, with no one else to care for her, Selene took the opportunity to love on her. Once her sister was stronger, she was sure that the mother/daughter bond would flourish.
But for now, Selene made it her responsibility to care for the child. At least that she could do right.
There was little for the guests to pack, as they had only been able to escape with what they had on their backs. The princess had been kind enough to loan her a few chitons to keep her out of the plum dress, which caused more trouble than it was worth. Dressed now in a pale green chiton, bare from any sort of jewels save for the Leventi cuff she was rarely without, Selene was eager to be off the boat. Happy to hear that land had been sighted and that they were to prepare, the Queen’s sister took to making sure the baby was wrapped tightly in a clean cloth and warm blanket.
Selene was behind her sister as they came up to the top, any smile that might have been on her face vanished the moment she saw the crowd. If anything, she was certain that Vangelis’ homecoming wouldn’t have normally been met with a crowd. After all, he left often, so there was little need for fanfare and excitement. The docks were packed, it seemed. But the stride of the prince seemed as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Trying to shake the feeling that something was wrong, Selene pulled the baby in close, head bent to whisper gentle words to calm her as she descended behind the two woman, knowing that the Queen and King would most likely try to get lost in the crowd.
She was sure that she had misheard Prince Zanon. He had been a playful host the last time she was here, quick to provide a joke or keep her entertained. But she couldn’t imagine him going this far. The death of a parent was nothing to joke about. She felt her heart ripped from her chest, aching to be beside Vangelis to offer him some sort of comfort. But she knew that her desire to comfort him was her own-- he would not wish any sort of display of the sort. While she might not have known his emotions as well as she wished, she did know that appearance was important. And he would not want to appear weak to the people. She wanted to be strong for him.
It was that knowledge that made her step closer to Athanasia, her free hand gripping the young girl’s hand. She stepped in front of her, so that the princess was obscured from view. No one was looking at them anyway. “Princess, you will have your chance to grieve. What your bro... Your King needs now is for you to show strength for the people. Mourn privately with your family. He needs you to be the example.” She whispered, not in anger or to educate, but to encourage her. During her time in both Colchis and Taegnea, Selene had built a relationship with the princess, so she felt safe to offer some support and guidance in this moment. She squeezed her hand, wiped the tear away with the pad of her thumb, then dropped to a knee behind the pair.
She would have to figure out her own emotions on this later, her voice ringing out for him to hear. The crowd seemed to follow suit with the prince’s words, and she certainly wouldn’t be seen doing anything but respecting the new monarch.
“Long Live the King.”
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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Trying to define her relationship with Vangelis felt like a puzzle with no solution.
She had thought that it was friendship, up until the moment she found herself thinking that it was more. And when she sought clarity on the issue from him, all she did was make it more confusing. She had kissed him, out of nowhere and didn’t give any chance for an explanation, too embarrassed by her actions to do anything but run from him. Then, before they could even work out what had happened, her sister was imprisoned with death over her head.
And Selene stressed the relationship further.
Refusing to listen when he told her it was impossible, she had pressed him into action in whatever way she could. She had needed him with a desperation she had never known, and wouldn’t be denied in her actions. If he hadn’t been able to help her, she had been willing to risk everything for her sister. And that love, it seemed, had been enough to make him find a solution that worked itself out in the end.
Now, having spent days on the boat pretty much dancing around each other, without really talking about feelings or emotions, Selene didn’t know one way or another if he even still considered her a friend. She had ruined one of the most important connections she had made, and while the reward was worth the risk, the loss that came with it was painful. Olympia hadn’t asked anything about the escape, mostly too weak from child bearing to think about anything more than feeding her child and resting. Where Selene could have, at one time, spoken with her about it, now she was unable. The Leventi curse had struck again, when nothing was needed more than a prince.
Selene had watched her mother suffer through ‘the curse’ each time a daughter was born instead of a son. And never once did she remember seeing her father react as Stephanos had. The little girl was precious in her mind, and it certainly wasn’t her fault she was born the wrong gender. Disappointment was one thing, outright disgust was quite another. With Pia so weak from the birth of the princess, Selene most often found herself caring for the small child. She never would have expected to bond so quickly with a child. And yet, with no one else to care for her, Selene took the opportunity to love on her. Once her sister was stronger, she was sure that the mother/daughter bond would flourish.
But for now, Selene made it her responsibility to care for the child. At least that she could do right.
There was little for the guests to pack, as they had only been able to escape with what they had on their backs. The princess had been kind enough to loan her a few chitons to keep her out of the plum dress, which caused more trouble than it was worth. Dressed now in a pale green chiton, bare from any sort of jewels save for the Leventi cuff she was rarely without, Selene was eager to be off the boat. Happy to hear that land had been sighted and that they were to prepare, the Queen’s sister took to making sure the baby was wrapped tightly in a clean cloth and warm blanket.
Selene was behind her sister as they came up to the top, any smile that might have been on her face vanished the moment she saw the crowd. If anything, she was certain that Vangelis’ homecoming wouldn’t have normally been met with a crowd. After all, he left often, so there was little need for fanfare and excitement. The docks were packed, it seemed. But the stride of the prince seemed as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Trying to shake the feeling that something was wrong, Selene pulled the baby in close, head bent to whisper gentle words to calm her as she descended behind the two woman, knowing that the Queen and King would most likely try to get lost in the crowd.
She was sure that she had misheard Prince Zanon. He had been a playful host the last time she was here, quick to provide a joke or keep her entertained. But she couldn’t imagine him going this far. The death of a parent was nothing to joke about. She felt her heart ripped from her chest, aching to be beside Vangelis to offer him some sort of comfort. But she knew that her desire to comfort him was her own-- he would not wish any sort of display of the sort. While she might not have known his emotions as well as she wished, she did know that appearance was important. And he would not want to appear weak to the people. She wanted to be strong for him.
It was that knowledge that made her step closer to Athanasia, her free hand gripping the young girl’s hand. She stepped in front of her, so that the princess was obscured from view. No one was looking at them anyway. “Princess, you will have your chance to grieve. What your bro... Your King needs now is for you to show strength for the people. Mourn privately with your family. He needs you to be the example.” She whispered, not in anger or to educate, but to encourage her. During her time in both Colchis and Taegnea, Selene had built a relationship with the princess, so she felt safe to offer some support and guidance in this moment. She squeezed her hand, wiped the tear away with the pad of her thumb, then dropped to a knee behind the pair.
She would have to figure out her own emotions on this later, her voice ringing out for him to hear. The crowd seemed to follow suit with the prince’s words, and she certainly wouldn’t be seen doing anything but respecting the new monarch.
“Long Live the King.”
Trying to define her relationship with Vangelis felt like a puzzle with no solution.
She had thought that it was friendship, up until the moment she found herself thinking that it was more. And when she sought clarity on the issue from him, all she did was make it more confusing. She had kissed him, out of nowhere and didn’t give any chance for an explanation, too embarrassed by her actions to do anything but run from him. Then, before they could even work out what had happened, her sister was imprisoned with death over her head.
And Selene stressed the relationship further.
Refusing to listen when he told her it was impossible, she had pressed him into action in whatever way she could. She had needed him with a desperation she had never known, and wouldn’t be denied in her actions. If he hadn’t been able to help her, she had been willing to risk everything for her sister. And that love, it seemed, had been enough to make him find a solution that worked itself out in the end.
Now, having spent days on the boat pretty much dancing around each other, without really talking about feelings or emotions, Selene didn’t know one way or another if he even still considered her a friend. She had ruined one of the most important connections she had made, and while the reward was worth the risk, the loss that came with it was painful. Olympia hadn’t asked anything about the escape, mostly too weak from child bearing to think about anything more than feeding her child and resting. Where Selene could have, at one time, spoken with her about it, now she was unable. The Leventi curse had struck again, when nothing was needed more than a prince.
Selene had watched her mother suffer through ‘the curse’ each time a daughter was born instead of a son. And never once did she remember seeing her father react as Stephanos had. The little girl was precious in her mind, and it certainly wasn’t her fault she was born the wrong gender. Disappointment was one thing, outright disgust was quite another. With Pia so weak from the birth of the princess, Selene most often found herself caring for the small child. She never would have expected to bond so quickly with a child. And yet, with no one else to care for her, Selene took the opportunity to love on her. Once her sister was stronger, she was sure that the mother/daughter bond would flourish.
But for now, Selene made it her responsibility to care for the child. At least that she could do right.
There was little for the guests to pack, as they had only been able to escape with what they had on their backs. The princess had been kind enough to loan her a few chitons to keep her out of the plum dress, which caused more trouble than it was worth. Dressed now in a pale green chiton, bare from any sort of jewels save for the Leventi cuff she was rarely without, Selene was eager to be off the boat. Happy to hear that land had been sighted and that they were to prepare, the Queen’s sister took to making sure the baby was wrapped tightly in a clean cloth and warm blanket.
Selene was behind her sister as they came up to the top, any smile that might have been on her face vanished the moment she saw the crowd. If anything, she was certain that Vangelis’ homecoming wouldn’t have normally been met with a crowd. After all, he left often, so there was little need for fanfare and excitement. The docks were packed, it seemed. But the stride of the prince seemed as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Trying to shake the feeling that something was wrong, Selene pulled the baby in close, head bent to whisper gentle words to calm her as she descended behind the two woman, knowing that the Queen and King would most likely try to get lost in the crowd.
She was sure that she had misheard Prince Zanon. He had been a playful host the last time she was here, quick to provide a joke or keep her entertained. But she couldn’t imagine him going this far. The death of a parent was nothing to joke about. She felt her heart ripped from her chest, aching to be beside Vangelis to offer him some sort of comfort. But she knew that her desire to comfort him was her own-- he would not wish any sort of display of the sort. While she might not have known his emotions as well as she wished, she did know that appearance was important. And he would not want to appear weak to the people. She wanted to be strong for him.
It was that knowledge that made her step closer to Athanasia, her free hand gripping the young girl’s hand. She stepped in front of her, so that the princess was obscured from view. No one was looking at them anyway. “Princess, you will have your chance to grieve. What your bro... Your King needs now is for you to show strength for the people. Mourn privately with your family. He needs you to be the example.” She whispered, not in anger or to educate, but to encourage her. During her time in both Colchis and Taegnea, Selene had built a relationship with the princess, so she felt safe to offer some support and guidance in this moment. She squeezed her hand, wiped the tear away with the pad of her thumb, then dropped to a knee behind the pair.
She would have to figure out her own emotions on this later, her voice ringing out for him to hear. The crowd seemed to follow suit with the prince’s words, and she certainly wouldn’t be seen doing anything but respecting the new monarch.
“Long Live the King.”
Not a man quick to emotion, reaction or immediate explosions of thought and words, Vangelis was able to get away with a lot. When he needed time to consider a plan or schematic for an attack, he could appear considering. When he needed a moment’s pause to control his emotions after an announcement in the Senate, he could adopt the pose of thoughtfulness and calculation. He was a man that people didn't expect to see a sudden and quickly decisive response from - unless he was on an immediate battlefield where reflex choices were required.
In addition to low expectations of emotion, Vangelis' instinctive and innate response when confronted with something shocking was to freeze. It was as if his mind protected him from the pain of whatever personal implications such a change or news might hold and instead turned everything to stoicism - forcing him to behave and react with only the most basic and important words and tasks. It stripped him down. Made him able to see the objective opportunities on a battlefield, the logical conclusions in court... or the way in which to behave with strength and regality when you were told in public that you father was dead.
Zanon's choice of informing him, despite the open speculation it would cause was not something Vangelis could fault. If the King had passed in a private manner than he had complete faith that his brother would have informed him of it in just as private a way - likely surrounded by the comfort of family and the haven of home. Instead, he had announced the death in as formal a manner as possible, before the people of the capitol, there on the docks, the moment his feet had stepped upon solid shoreline.
The tactician in each brother seemed to communicate between their gazes, Vangelis instantly understanding that their father had never passed in a quiet and peaceful night's taking. Instead, his death had been public. In whatever manner it had happened, the people of the kingdom knew of their monarch's passing before his own son. And Zanon had done all he could to ensure that Vangelis was made aware of it as quickly as possible. This was the cause for such a moment being held with an audience.
In his usual fashion, Vangelis felt his muscles contract. His shoulder broadened, as his posture stiffened and his facial features turned to stone. The embodiment of the Stone Prince for which he was named, he looked down at his kneeling brother. There was a light pop in the corner of his jaw, indicating the tension of his gritted teeth and his eyes had hardened, turned shallow. In that moment, he had cut off all emotion. For it was the only way to handle such a moment.
His brother was no longer his brother, but the second prince - now crown prince. His sister, whom he heard gasp behind, him was no longer his young sister, female and delicate - she was the sole princess of the kingdom. He caught her gaze hard as she lost herself for just a moment but such a line of vision was cut off by his blonde guest - the Lady Selene, who murmured words of understanding and strength. Something squeezed in the vicinity of his heart, but Vangelis trod down on it hard. Now was not the time.
When his brother's actions were repeated by those around him, many of his people kneeling before him in a manner that was reserved solely for the monarch of Colchis, Vangelis felt his jaw pop again, but the gesture was so small, few would notice it.
Covering the slightest hint of emotion, Vangelis lowered his head a little, noticing that the Chief Advisor standing behind Zanon was eager to relinquish the crown he was holding as if it burnt his fingers. His desire to see it officially fitted upon the head of the reigning King, even without a formal coronation, was obvious. Vangelis lowered his head but not his knees and the Advisor smiled in relief, before adopting an expression of stoic formality.
A moment later, the weight of his father's crown was resting upon his temples.
Feeling decidedly sick but managing to never show it, Vangelis stood back to his full height, his brittle and hardened posture now even more daunting with the topping of a royal crown.
His voice was calm, cold and clipped as he gave his first orders as King, his voice a deep and rolling issue of power across the bowed heads or gradually drew to standing once more.
"Assemble all military personnel from Captain upwards to convene in the Dikastirio three days hence." He instructed Zanon, completely avoiding any commentary on the fact that they had each just lost their father. "Princess Athanasia-" He then directed. "You will aid Princess Evras in attending to our guests. They are to be escorted to the Kotas manor and given anything they need." He had already informed the Lady Imeeya on the boat that she would be welcome to stay in Midas as long as she wished - either in the Kotas or Drakos manor, depending on her preference.
Not knowing what else to say, or how to ensure that the crowd would disperse, Vangelis decided not to allow it to be under his control. Instead, he simply, indicated with a jut of his head for his brother to follow him, watching as Silas fell into step behind. With Yiannis still in Athenia, the three of them banded together in carving an arrow head through the crowd, towards the royal chariots that would take them up to the Kotas manor where all of this wretched mess could be answered with clarity - however horrific that truth might be...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Not a man quick to emotion, reaction or immediate explosions of thought and words, Vangelis was able to get away with a lot. When he needed time to consider a plan or schematic for an attack, he could appear considering. When he needed a moment’s pause to control his emotions after an announcement in the Senate, he could adopt the pose of thoughtfulness and calculation. He was a man that people didn't expect to see a sudden and quickly decisive response from - unless he was on an immediate battlefield where reflex choices were required.
In addition to low expectations of emotion, Vangelis' instinctive and innate response when confronted with something shocking was to freeze. It was as if his mind protected him from the pain of whatever personal implications such a change or news might hold and instead turned everything to stoicism - forcing him to behave and react with only the most basic and important words and tasks. It stripped him down. Made him able to see the objective opportunities on a battlefield, the logical conclusions in court... or the way in which to behave with strength and regality when you were told in public that you father was dead.
Zanon's choice of informing him, despite the open speculation it would cause was not something Vangelis could fault. If the King had passed in a private manner than he had complete faith that his brother would have informed him of it in just as private a way - likely surrounded by the comfort of family and the haven of home. Instead, he had announced the death in as formal a manner as possible, before the people of the capitol, there on the docks, the moment his feet had stepped upon solid shoreline.
The tactician in each brother seemed to communicate between their gazes, Vangelis instantly understanding that their father had never passed in a quiet and peaceful night's taking. Instead, his death had been public. In whatever manner it had happened, the people of the kingdom knew of their monarch's passing before his own son. And Zanon had done all he could to ensure that Vangelis was made aware of it as quickly as possible. This was the cause for such a moment being held with an audience.
In his usual fashion, Vangelis felt his muscles contract. His shoulder broadened, as his posture stiffened and his facial features turned to stone. The embodiment of the Stone Prince for which he was named, he looked down at his kneeling brother. There was a light pop in the corner of his jaw, indicating the tension of his gritted teeth and his eyes had hardened, turned shallow. In that moment, he had cut off all emotion. For it was the only way to handle such a moment.
His brother was no longer his brother, but the second prince - now crown prince. His sister, whom he heard gasp behind, him was no longer his young sister, female and delicate - she was the sole princess of the kingdom. He caught her gaze hard as she lost herself for just a moment but such a line of vision was cut off by his blonde guest - the Lady Selene, who murmured words of understanding and strength. Something squeezed in the vicinity of his heart, but Vangelis trod down on it hard. Now was not the time.
When his brother's actions were repeated by those around him, many of his people kneeling before him in a manner that was reserved solely for the monarch of Colchis, Vangelis felt his jaw pop again, but the gesture was so small, few would notice it.
Covering the slightest hint of emotion, Vangelis lowered his head a little, noticing that the Chief Advisor standing behind Zanon was eager to relinquish the crown he was holding as if it burnt his fingers. His desire to see it officially fitted upon the head of the reigning King, even without a formal coronation, was obvious. Vangelis lowered his head but not his knees and the Advisor smiled in relief, before adopting an expression of stoic formality.
A moment later, the weight of his father's crown was resting upon his temples.
Feeling decidedly sick but managing to never show it, Vangelis stood back to his full height, his brittle and hardened posture now even more daunting with the topping of a royal crown.
His voice was calm, cold and clipped as he gave his first orders as King, his voice a deep and rolling issue of power across the bowed heads or gradually drew to standing once more.
"Assemble all military personnel from Captain upwards to convene in the Dikastirio three days hence." He instructed Zanon, completely avoiding any commentary on the fact that they had each just lost their father. "Princess Athanasia-" He then directed. "You will aid Princess Evras in attending to our guests. They are to be escorted to the Kotas manor and given anything they need." He had already informed the Lady Imeeya on the boat that she would be welcome to stay in Midas as long as she wished - either in the Kotas or Drakos manor, depending on her preference.
Not knowing what else to say, or how to ensure that the crowd would disperse, Vangelis decided not to allow it to be under his control. Instead, he simply, indicated with a jut of his head for his brother to follow him, watching as Silas fell into step behind. With Yiannis still in Athenia, the three of them banded together in carving an arrow head through the crowd, towards the royal chariots that would take them up to the Kotas manor where all of this wretched mess could be answered with clarity - however horrific that truth might be...
Not a man quick to emotion, reaction or immediate explosions of thought and words, Vangelis was able to get away with a lot. When he needed time to consider a plan or schematic for an attack, he could appear considering. When he needed a moment’s pause to control his emotions after an announcement in the Senate, he could adopt the pose of thoughtfulness and calculation. He was a man that people didn't expect to see a sudden and quickly decisive response from - unless he was on an immediate battlefield where reflex choices were required.
In addition to low expectations of emotion, Vangelis' instinctive and innate response when confronted with something shocking was to freeze. It was as if his mind protected him from the pain of whatever personal implications such a change or news might hold and instead turned everything to stoicism - forcing him to behave and react with only the most basic and important words and tasks. It stripped him down. Made him able to see the objective opportunities on a battlefield, the logical conclusions in court... or the way in which to behave with strength and regality when you were told in public that you father was dead.
Zanon's choice of informing him, despite the open speculation it would cause was not something Vangelis could fault. If the King had passed in a private manner than he had complete faith that his brother would have informed him of it in just as private a way - likely surrounded by the comfort of family and the haven of home. Instead, he had announced the death in as formal a manner as possible, before the people of the capitol, there on the docks, the moment his feet had stepped upon solid shoreline.
The tactician in each brother seemed to communicate between their gazes, Vangelis instantly understanding that their father had never passed in a quiet and peaceful night's taking. Instead, his death had been public. In whatever manner it had happened, the people of the kingdom knew of their monarch's passing before his own son. And Zanon had done all he could to ensure that Vangelis was made aware of it as quickly as possible. This was the cause for such a moment being held with an audience.
In his usual fashion, Vangelis felt his muscles contract. His shoulder broadened, as his posture stiffened and his facial features turned to stone. The embodiment of the Stone Prince for which he was named, he looked down at his kneeling brother. There was a light pop in the corner of his jaw, indicating the tension of his gritted teeth and his eyes had hardened, turned shallow. In that moment, he had cut off all emotion. For it was the only way to handle such a moment.
His brother was no longer his brother, but the second prince - now crown prince. His sister, whom he heard gasp behind, him was no longer his young sister, female and delicate - she was the sole princess of the kingdom. He caught her gaze hard as she lost herself for just a moment but such a line of vision was cut off by his blonde guest - the Lady Selene, who murmured words of understanding and strength. Something squeezed in the vicinity of his heart, but Vangelis trod down on it hard. Now was not the time.
When his brother's actions were repeated by those around him, many of his people kneeling before him in a manner that was reserved solely for the monarch of Colchis, Vangelis felt his jaw pop again, but the gesture was so small, few would notice it.
Covering the slightest hint of emotion, Vangelis lowered his head a little, noticing that the Chief Advisor standing behind Zanon was eager to relinquish the crown he was holding as if it burnt his fingers. His desire to see it officially fitted upon the head of the reigning King, even without a formal coronation, was obvious. Vangelis lowered his head but not his knees and the Advisor smiled in relief, before adopting an expression of stoic formality.
A moment later, the weight of his father's crown was resting upon his temples.
Feeling decidedly sick but managing to never show it, Vangelis stood back to his full height, his brittle and hardened posture now even more daunting with the topping of a royal crown.
His voice was calm, cold and clipped as he gave his first orders as King, his voice a deep and rolling issue of power across the bowed heads or gradually drew to standing once more.
"Assemble all military personnel from Captain upwards to convene in the Dikastirio three days hence." He instructed Zanon, completely avoiding any commentary on the fact that they had each just lost their father. "Princess Athanasia-" He then directed. "You will aid Princess Evras in attending to our guests. They are to be escorted to the Kotas manor and given anything they need." He had already informed the Lady Imeeya on the boat that she would be welcome to stay in Midas as long as she wished - either in the Kotas or Drakos manor, depending on her preference.
Not knowing what else to say, or how to ensure that the crowd would disperse, Vangelis decided not to allow it to be under his control. Instead, he simply, indicated with a jut of his head for his brother to follow him, watching as Silas fell into step behind. With Yiannis still in Athenia, the three of them banded together in carving an arrow head through the crowd, towards the royal chariots that would take them up to the Kotas manor where all of this wretched mess could be answered with clarity - however horrific that truth might be...