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It felt as if lately his evenings had been occupied by attending the temple of Ares more often than not. With everything that had been going on, he felt the need to double his prayers. He had always been a follower of Ares, ever since he was old enough to truly understand the Gods and choose one for himself. A young boy who dreamed of a life of battle and glory, it was obvious what God would appeal to him. He had been devoted, and while he would admit to, at times, perhaps not praying as often as he should have, for the most part he had been what he would consider a devout follower.
This would be one of those evenings where he would once more find himself at the temple on the outskirts of Midas, though he hoped that this visit would serve a double purpose. He had invited someone that had been on his mind a lot lately, Leto. He hadn’t thought of her all that much over the past ten years, the memory of their first meeting popping up every once in a while, but ever since he had run into her again that first time outside the temples within Midas, he had found it was near impossible for his thoughts to not be of her if he let his mind be idle.
Ever since their first run in, it felt like they had been fated to meet any time Maleos stepped out of the barracks, she had been there at the temples when he had wandered there aimlessly, she had been there once more at the docks while waiting for the new King to arrive upon the shores, in the chambers the night of the King's return, and had visited his barracks only a few days ago. Where ever he seemed to go, she was there with him.
This time though, this time it was not in the hands of the fates, this time he had invited her to meet him. He felt a draw to her. Whether she felt the same remained to be seen, but it was the first time in a very long time that Maleos had actually shown any interest in someone, and this was like nothing he had felt before. This was love, he was sure of it. He just did not know if she felt the same.
He had arrived a few minutes ago on horseback, dismounting the animal, he patted its side before he looked around to see if she was there. He wasn’t even entirely sure if she would show up, he had written her to request her presence, but he would not blame her if she did not want to come. She had a reputation to uphold now that her brother had moved them up in society, and he was sure that her brother's eyes would be on her every move.
That was part of the reason he had chosen to invite her in the evening, under the cover of the setting sun there was less of a chance of any prying eyes being around. The temple in fact seemed empty so far, save for the few priests who tended to the temple, but Maleos did not worry that they would gossip over a Captain and lady meeting there.
He stood and waited in the cooler night air, mind wandering as his eyes watched the suns slow descent. He hadn't felt nervous about anything in a very long time, but he felt nervous now, waiting here for the woman he loved, to confess his feelings to her before he would leave in a few short days to fight and lead in the coming war.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It felt as if lately his evenings had been occupied by attending the temple of Ares more often than not. With everything that had been going on, he felt the need to double his prayers. He had always been a follower of Ares, ever since he was old enough to truly understand the Gods and choose one for himself. A young boy who dreamed of a life of battle and glory, it was obvious what God would appeal to him. He had been devoted, and while he would admit to, at times, perhaps not praying as often as he should have, for the most part he had been what he would consider a devout follower.
This would be one of those evenings where he would once more find himself at the temple on the outskirts of Midas, though he hoped that this visit would serve a double purpose. He had invited someone that had been on his mind a lot lately, Leto. He hadn’t thought of her all that much over the past ten years, the memory of their first meeting popping up every once in a while, but ever since he had run into her again that first time outside the temples within Midas, he had found it was near impossible for his thoughts to not be of her if he let his mind be idle.
Ever since their first run in, it felt like they had been fated to meet any time Maleos stepped out of the barracks, she had been there at the temples when he had wandered there aimlessly, she had been there once more at the docks while waiting for the new King to arrive upon the shores, in the chambers the night of the King's return, and had visited his barracks only a few days ago. Where ever he seemed to go, she was there with him.
This time though, this time it was not in the hands of the fates, this time he had invited her to meet him. He felt a draw to her. Whether she felt the same remained to be seen, but it was the first time in a very long time that Maleos had actually shown any interest in someone, and this was like nothing he had felt before. This was love, he was sure of it. He just did not know if she felt the same.
He had arrived a few minutes ago on horseback, dismounting the animal, he patted its side before he looked around to see if she was there. He wasn’t even entirely sure if she would show up, he had written her to request her presence, but he would not blame her if she did not want to come. She had a reputation to uphold now that her brother had moved them up in society, and he was sure that her brother's eyes would be on her every move.
That was part of the reason he had chosen to invite her in the evening, under the cover of the setting sun there was less of a chance of any prying eyes being around. The temple in fact seemed empty so far, save for the few priests who tended to the temple, but Maleos did not worry that they would gossip over a Captain and lady meeting there.
He stood and waited in the cooler night air, mind wandering as his eyes watched the suns slow descent. He hadn't felt nervous about anything in a very long time, but he felt nervous now, waiting here for the woman he loved, to confess his feelings to her before he would leave in a few short days to fight and lead in the coming war.
It felt as if lately his evenings had been occupied by attending the temple of Ares more often than not. With everything that had been going on, he felt the need to double his prayers. He had always been a follower of Ares, ever since he was old enough to truly understand the Gods and choose one for himself. A young boy who dreamed of a life of battle and glory, it was obvious what God would appeal to him. He had been devoted, and while he would admit to, at times, perhaps not praying as often as he should have, for the most part he had been what he would consider a devout follower.
This would be one of those evenings where he would once more find himself at the temple on the outskirts of Midas, though he hoped that this visit would serve a double purpose. He had invited someone that had been on his mind a lot lately, Leto. He hadn’t thought of her all that much over the past ten years, the memory of their first meeting popping up every once in a while, but ever since he had run into her again that first time outside the temples within Midas, he had found it was near impossible for his thoughts to not be of her if he let his mind be idle.
Ever since their first run in, it felt like they had been fated to meet any time Maleos stepped out of the barracks, she had been there at the temples when he had wandered there aimlessly, she had been there once more at the docks while waiting for the new King to arrive upon the shores, in the chambers the night of the King's return, and had visited his barracks only a few days ago. Where ever he seemed to go, she was there with him.
This time though, this time it was not in the hands of the fates, this time he had invited her to meet him. He felt a draw to her. Whether she felt the same remained to be seen, but it was the first time in a very long time that Maleos had actually shown any interest in someone, and this was like nothing he had felt before. This was love, he was sure of it. He just did not know if she felt the same.
He had arrived a few minutes ago on horseback, dismounting the animal, he patted its side before he looked around to see if she was there. He wasn’t even entirely sure if she would show up, he had written her to request her presence, but he would not blame her if she did not want to come. She had a reputation to uphold now that her brother had moved them up in society, and he was sure that her brother's eyes would be on her every move.
That was part of the reason he had chosen to invite her in the evening, under the cover of the setting sun there was less of a chance of any prying eyes being around. The temple in fact seemed empty so far, save for the few priests who tended to the temple, but Maleos did not worry that they would gossip over a Captain and lady meeting there.
He stood and waited in the cooler night air, mind wandering as his eyes watched the suns slow descent. He hadn't felt nervous about anything in a very long time, but he felt nervous now, waiting here for the woman he loved, to confess his feelings to her before he would leave in a few short days to fight and lead in the coming war.
With Magnus returned, there was a slightly heightened watch over Leto's actions, though the many entanglements and plans that coincided with the impending war procedures made seeing her brother in person a rarity. In fact, Leto noted that many of his informants knew to visit him on the offices at the Kotas estate, knowing that he was loathe to leave the side of Crown Prince Vangelis as he coordinated the war.
Surprisingly, with the war efforts underway, both Nifakis and Eudora found themselves preoccupied, assisting in their way by using their connections as weapon smiths to contact their former apprentices turned masters to begin making the swords they taught them how to make all those years ago. They would need as many as they could get for the men who were leaving.
It was among these many missives that Leto managed to capture one with her name on it before delivering the others to her parents, reading it hastily and crafting a plan to tell her parents that she was meeting with several women in Colchis about rounding up supplies to send on the war effort. As far as they knew, she would be gone well into the evening to coordinate efforts.
What they did not know was her plan to leave early from those efforts, feigning illness, to ride Eteon out to the far-flung Temple of Ares. As the path turned to reach it's precipice, Leto saw the outline of a figure, standing next to a mount silhouetted by the orange and pink of the setting sun. Slowing as she came closer, she recognized the echoes of the sunset colors against the pale tones of Maleos' skin, outlined by the dark lines of his curls and his armor.
"Maleos," she said, offering a smile before dismounting. As her face turned to the saddle to loop the reins from over Eteon's head, she paused. Their last interaction had...not gone to plan, ending with tensions that were unexplained across the board, both within and without.
For a moment, she started to find something to say, perhaps about the sunset? Or the weather? Some sort of light teasing to show that whatever happened on that odd day at the training ring was past. Had he opened the gift she gave him? The dagger was curved and unique - had he liked it?
"I know about the war," she said, instead, the bluntness of her tongue managing to overpower the delicacies that Lady Iolanthe had been teaching her, "And that The Men of the Heights will fight alongside the King and Crown Prince for Colchis." That she knew these things may have come as a surprise to him, given that she was a woman. More importantly, though, was that she was the sister to the Master Informer...and had a tendency to address the messiness of her brother's study, rearranging the papers on his desk in to neat piles.
It would not be surprising to find that she gleaned such information so quickly.
Her round eyes examined his face in the fading light, noting his expression. It was not fear - she never doubted that he would lack fear for going to war, as she had seen what his years of training worked toward. No, this was...different.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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With Magnus returned, there was a slightly heightened watch over Leto's actions, though the many entanglements and plans that coincided with the impending war procedures made seeing her brother in person a rarity. In fact, Leto noted that many of his informants knew to visit him on the offices at the Kotas estate, knowing that he was loathe to leave the side of Crown Prince Vangelis as he coordinated the war.
Surprisingly, with the war efforts underway, both Nifakis and Eudora found themselves preoccupied, assisting in their way by using their connections as weapon smiths to contact their former apprentices turned masters to begin making the swords they taught them how to make all those years ago. They would need as many as they could get for the men who were leaving.
It was among these many missives that Leto managed to capture one with her name on it before delivering the others to her parents, reading it hastily and crafting a plan to tell her parents that she was meeting with several women in Colchis about rounding up supplies to send on the war effort. As far as they knew, she would be gone well into the evening to coordinate efforts.
What they did not know was her plan to leave early from those efforts, feigning illness, to ride Eteon out to the far-flung Temple of Ares. As the path turned to reach it's precipice, Leto saw the outline of a figure, standing next to a mount silhouetted by the orange and pink of the setting sun. Slowing as she came closer, she recognized the echoes of the sunset colors against the pale tones of Maleos' skin, outlined by the dark lines of his curls and his armor.
"Maleos," she said, offering a smile before dismounting. As her face turned to the saddle to loop the reins from over Eteon's head, she paused. Their last interaction had...not gone to plan, ending with tensions that were unexplained across the board, both within and without.
For a moment, she started to find something to say, perhaps about the sunset? Or the weather? Some sort of light teasing to show that whatever happened on that odd day at the training ring was past. Had he opened the gift she gave him? The dagger was curved and unique - had he liked it?
"I know about the war," she said, instead, the bluntness of her tongue managing to overpower the delicacies that Lady Iolanthe had been teaching her, "And that The Men of the Heights will fight alongside the King and Crown Prince for Colchis." That she knew these things may have come as a surprise to him, given that she was a woman. More importantly, though, was that she was the sister to the Master Informer...and had a tendency to address the messiness of her brother's study, rearranging the papers on his desk in to neat piles.
It would not be surprising to find that she gleaned such information so quickly.
Her round eyes examined his face in the fading light, noting his expression. It was not fear - she never doubted that he would lack fear for going to war, as she had seen what his years of training worked toward. No, this was...different.
With Magnus returned, there was a slightly heightened watch over Leto's actions, though the many entanglements and plans that coincided with the impending war procedures made seeing her brother in person a rarity. In fact, Leto noted that many of his informants knew to visit him on the offices at the Kotas estate, knowing that he was loathe to leave the side of Crown Prince Vangelis as he coordinated the war.
Surprisingly, with the war efforts underway, both Nifakis and Eudora found themselves preoccupied, assisting in their way by using their connections as weapon smiths to contact their former apprentices turned masters to begin making the swords they taught them how to make all those years ago. They would need as many as they could get for the men who were leaving.
It was among these many missives that Leto managed to capture one with her name on it before delivering the others to her parents, reading it hastily and crafting a plan to tell her parents that she was meeting with several women in Colchis about rounding up supplies to send on the war effort. As far as they knew, she would be gone well into the evening to coordinate efforts.
What they did not know was her plan to leave early from those efforts, feigning illness, to ride Eteon out to the far-flung Temple of Ares. As the path turned to reach it's precipice, Leto saw the outline of a figure, standing next to a mount silhouetted by the orange and pink of the setting sun. Slowing as she came closer, she recognized the echoes of the sunset colors against the pale tones of Maleos' skin, outlined by the dark lines of his curls and his armor.
"Maleos," she said, offering a smile before dismounting. As her face turned to the saddle to loop the reins from over Eteon's head, she paused. Their last interaction had...not gone to plan, ending with tensions that were unexplained across the board, both within and without.
For a moment, she started to find something to say, perhaps about the sunset? Or the weather? Some sort of light teasing to show that whatever happened on that odd day at the training ring was past. Had he opened the gift she gave him? The dagger was curved and unique - had he liked it?
"I know about the war," she said, instead, the bluntness of her tongue managing to overpower the delicacies that Lady Iolanthe had been teaching her, "And that The Men of the Heights will fight alongside the King and Crown Prince for Colchis." That she knew these things may have come as a surprise to him, given that she was a woman. More importantly, though, was that she was the sister to the Master Informer...and had a tendency to address the messiness of her brother's study, rearranging the papers on his desk in to neat piles.
It would not be surprising to find that she gleaned such information so quickly.
Her round eyes examined his face in the fading light, noting his expression. It was not fear - she never doubted that he would lack fear for going to war, as she had seen what his years of training worked toward. No, this was...different.
Maleos couldn’t help the smile that came across his face as he watched her ride up the path towards the temple, as small as the smile might be, it was an expression reserved for the rarest occasions with certain people. Leto being one of those people.
She looked beautiful, even now, not dressed up particularly fancily by any means, she still seemed to outshine the sun at its highest point. He felt his heart speed up in his chest at the very sight of her, and he took a deep breath to keep his composure.
She seemed to have something on her mind as she approached, and he wondered what it could be about. Before he had a chance to greet her, she was blurting out about the war and he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escape him, smile widening just a bit at her words.
“It is a wonder that you yourself are not master informer.” He said, the words light hearted as he stepped a little closer to her from his spot by the temple wall. The temple was quiet, no one there but the two of them, the only sounds being the gentle evening breeze and their two horses snorting gently and shifting a little. The pinks and orange of the sun setting in the sky could not have provided a better atmosphere for Maleos’ purpose in inviting Leto to join him that evening.
“It is true. We march in a few days’ time.” He confirmed for her, though he didn’t think she needed his confirmation to know for sure.
“One of the reasons I asked you to meet me here tonight, so we may have a chance to speak before I am once more off to war.” He said softly, taking another step a bit closer to her.
“First I wanted to express my gratitude for the gift. The blade is beautiful, yet deadly. It reminds me a lot of you.” He said, laughing a little as his gaze faltered for just a moment as he attempted to find the words for what he wanted to say next.
“I admit, I did have another reason to invite you here with me this evening. Beyond gratitude for your thoughtfulness, and beyond prayer to Ares.” He started, feeling his nerves swell up even as he fought to push them back down. Why was he so nervous? He had fought in countless battles, and yet telling Leto how he felt was the most daunting task he had ever faced.
“I am not one for words, as I am sure you know, yet there are some that I can hold onto no longer.” He stepped closer, so there wasn’t much space between them, and took her hands in his gently, his blue-green eyes locked onto hers.
“Since our reunion, that day at the temple of Athena, you have been the focus of my thoughts. Your beauty, your strength, your will, everything about you. I find not a day goes past when I have not been lost with thoughts of you. If I am to war, then I could not go without admitting my feelings to you, no matter what the outcome. Leto of Chaossis, my heart is yours, in all things.” He said, hoping that his words would be enough to get his point across, and hoping that there was even a tiny part of her that could feel the same. Either way, he could rest a little easier and go to war less distracted, knowing solidly one way or another how she felt.
He paused for just a quick moment before he did something bold, something that took more courage than charging into any battle he had faced. He let go of her hands and cupped her face instead, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Maleos couldn’t help the smile that came across his face as he watched her ride up the path towards the temple, as small as the smile might be, it was an expression reserved for the rarest occasions with certain people. Leto being one of those people.
She looked beautiful, even now, not dressed up particularly fancily by any means, she still seemed to outshine the sun at its highest point. He felt his heart speed up in his chest at the very sight of her, and he took a deep breath to keep his composure.
She seemed to have something on her mind as she approached, and he wondered what it could be about. Before he had a chance to greet her, she was blurting out about the war and he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escape him, smile widening just a bit at her words.
“It is a wonder that you yourself are not master informer.” He said, the words light hearted as he stepped a little closer to her from his spot by the temple wall. The temple was quiet, no one there but the two of them, the only sounds being the gentle evening breeze and their two horses snorting gently and shifting a little. The pinks and orange of the sun setting in the sky could not have provided a better atmosphere for Maleos’ purpose in inviting Leto to join him that evening.
“It is true. We march in a few days’ time.” He confirmed for her, though he didn’t think she needed his confirmation to know for sure.
“One of the reasons I asked you to meet me here tonight, so we may have a chance to speak before I am once more off to war.” He said softly, taking another step a bit closer to her.
“First I wanted to express my gratitude for the gift. The blade is beautiful, yet deadly. It reminds me a lot of you.” He said, laughing a little as his gaze faltered for just a moment as he attempted to find the words for what he wanted to say next.
“I admit, I did have another reason to invite you here with me this evening. Beyond gratitude for your thoughtfulness, and beyond prayer to Ares.” He started, feeling his nerves swell up even as he fought to push them back down. Why was he so nervous? He had fought in countless battles, and yet telling Leto how he felt was the most daunting task he had ever faced.
“I am not one for words, as I am sure you know, yet there are some that I can hold onto no longer.” He stepped closer, so there wasn’t much space between them, and took her hands in his gently, his blue-green eyes locked onto hers.
“Since our reunion, that day at the temple of Athena, you have been the focus of my thoughts. Your beauty, your strength, your will, everything about you. I find not a day goes past when I have not been lost with thoughts of you. If I am to war, then I could not go without admitting my feelings to you, no matter what the outcome. Leto of Chaossis, my heart is yours, in all things.” He said, hoping that his words would be enough to get his point across, and hoping that there was even a tiny part of her that could feel the same. Either way, he could rest a little easier and go to war less distracted, knowing solidly one way or another how she felt.
He paused for just a quick moment before he did something bold, something that took more courage than charging into any battle he had faced. He let go of her hands and cupped her face instead, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips.
Maleos couldn’t help the smile that came across his face as he watched her ride up the path towards the temple, as small as the smile might be, it was an expression reserved for the rarest occasions with certain people. Leto being one of those people.
She looked beautiful, even now, not dressed up particularly fancily by any means, she still seemed to outshine the sun at its highest point. He felt his heart speed up in his chest at the very sight of her, and he took a deep breath to keep his composure.
She seemed to have something on her mind as she approached, and he wondered what it could be about. Before he had a chance to greet her, she was blurting out about the war and he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escape him, smile widening just a bit at her words.
“It is a wonder that you yourself are not master informer.” He said, the words light hearted as he stepped a little closer to her from his spot by the temple wall. The temple was quiet, no one there but the two of them, the only sounds being the gentle evening breeze and their two horses snorting gently and shifting a little. The pinks and orange of the sun setting in the sky could not have provided a better atmosphere for Maleos’ purpose in inviting Leto to join him that evening.
“It is true. We march in a few days’ time.” He confirmed for her, though he didn’t think she needed his confirmation to know for sure.
“One of the reasons I asked you to meet me here tonight, so we may have a chance to speak before I am once more off to war.” He said softly, taking another step a bit closer to her.
“First I wanted to express my gratitude for the gift. The blade is beautiful, yet deadly. It reminds me a lot of you.” He said, laughing a little as his gaze faltered for just a moment as he attempted to find the words for what he wanted to say next.
“I admit, I did have another reason to invite you here with me this evening. Beyond gratitude for your thoughtfulness, and beyond prayer to Ares.” He started, feeling his nerves swell up even as he fought to push them back down. Why was he so nervous? He had fought in countless battles, and yet telling Leto how he felt was the most daunting task he had ever faced.
“I am not one for words, as I am sure you know, yet there are some that I can hold onto no longer.” He stepped closer, so there wasn’t much space between them, and took her hands in his gently, his blue-green eyes locked onto hers.
“Since our reunion, that day at the temple of Athena, you have been the focus of my thoughts. Your beauty, your strength, your will, everything about you. I find not a day goes past when I have not been lost with thoughts of you. If I am to war, then I could not go without admitting my feelings to you, no matter what the outcome. Leto of Chaossis, my heart is yours, in all things.” He said, hoping that his words would be enough to get his point across, and hoping that there was even a tiny part of her that could feel the same. Either way, he could rest a little easier and go to war less distracted, knowing solidly one way or another how she felt.
He paused for just a quick moment before he did something bold, something that took more courage than charging into any battle he had faced. He let go of her hands and cupped her face instead, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips.
The wind climbing the cliffside managed to make a mess of her hair again, despite the increasing time and effort that she had started putting into its maintenance on a daily basis. After all, the meeting she had been to before her escape to the Temple of Ares had women of all levels of society coming together to coordinate the supplies for the war. While she was not nobility by any stretch of the imagination, her brother's station was well-known in Midas and with the guidance of Lady Iolanthe, Leto had done her best to start looking the part of a woman who had, in fact, attended court.
There was the briefest flicker of a moment after she blurted out her knowledge of the impending war where she felt hesitation. Had she said too much? Her tongue had caused her grief in the past for simply stating the first thing on her mind without consideration. Yet, at Maleos words, coupled with a smile that seemed to change the entire geography of his face, Leto laughed. A slight blush once again crept across her cheeks.
"Ah, I have heard that before," she teased back, her grin pressing into her cheeks as she tied Eteon's leads to the post, "It's only my birth and my brother that stand in the way of such a thing." Once the leads were tied, she noted Maleos step closer, in shorter, paused steps at a time. Curious.
At his confirmation, Leto nodded, knowing by the names and provinces associated with the various Captains and Commanders on missives delivered to and from Magnus' desk. His gift of "The Heritage and History of Colchis" a few years back had been invaluable now for her to know the details behind the inner workings of court and country. In fact, she had immediately recognized his hand on the exterior of a missive or two, as it matched the ones he had delivered to her.
"Soon, I know," she added, noting the timing he mentioned and tilting her head to glance up at the wall of the temple - one she had never visited before - before looking back to him. "I hope Ares will hear my prayers for your safe return, and the safe return of all who are going."
Her initial motion was to start towards the temple gate, but her step fell short as Maleos stepped in closer to her. While her expression held, her eyes scanned the continuing curiosity of his expression, attempting to solve the mystery of it before his words charmed her.
Deadly and beautiful? Leto had always found her appearance to be...less than beautiful. Striking, perhaps, with her height and pronounced features that were as far from lithe and petite as could be, she could not easily consider herself such. Deadly, perhaps by accident. Her thoughts went to the odd and humorous bout between herself and the Valaoritis lord, Silanos, under Maleos' tutelage. Without his guidance, it could have been deadly - if only by accident.
Still, his words sent another rush of pink to her cheeks as she glanced away and down at the ground between them as if to disagree, but his continued words pulled her attention back to him, curiosity winning out over the rush of emotion.
Leto hung on every word, laying them into place like pieces of a mosaic, forming a figure or a scene on the wall. Around the edges, the thoughts began to make sense, but the whole picture did not fully form until he stepped in closer to her. Standing her ground, the only movement she made was to hook a tendril of hair that had been dancing across her nose and brow for a moment now and tuck it back behind her ear. All the while, her eyes never left the Captain's gaze.
He was nervous, and she started to feel as though she knew why as she glanced down to see him take her hands in his. Her breath caught in her chest, with her soft lips parted ever so slightly as the air tried to decide if it wanted in or out of her lungs. Blinking a few times at the touch they shared, she noticed the warmth and the difference in size between them before her eyes drew upward along his the line of his chest, to his collarbone, to the evening shadow along his jaw, then once again to his eyes, where they remained.
In the stories she read, there were moments like these. It usually fell right before such a time as a war, much like this, where the unknown brought out truths and secrets like wine poured from a jar.
It would be a lie to say Leto had not thought of Maleos instantly as she heard the first whisper of war, and the way the pit of fear deepened in her gut had surprised her. Dread filled her. All her life, she had known many who had gone away to wars and battles and skirmishes throughout the northern lands - many of whom held swords in their hands made by her father. Yet, this was the first time someone she knew - someone she liked - was going away with no guarantee of a safe return. For the first time, the words in her stories made sense, and the gravity of this moment was not lost on her.
As he confessed his true feelings, Leto felt surprised by the stinging of emotion around the edges of her eyes. Why did tears threaten to fall? She was not sad, at least not in this moment. Yet, this unspoken and unnamed emotion within her welled behind her eyes, and her brows pinched together and upward as if to compensate for such a thing, to no true avail.
Hardly a moment had passed, and Leto blinked a few time and took in a deep breath, hoping some of the sea air could bring measurable words to her lips. Before that could happen, Maleos hands cupped her cheeks.
It happened in slow motion, and for a brief moment, Leto felt as though she were a performer on the stage of the ampitheatre, performing for everyone and no one.
The swell in her chest was the crescendo of music, both deafening and silent in her ears at once. The way she closed her eyes and moved one hand to cover his over her cheek and the other to the side of is upper arm was a dance she had always seen but never learned. The kiss was poetry, a lingering couplet as old as time itself, yet spoken on the lips of two new actors who shared in the story.
This moment of her first kiss would be seared into her mind forever.
After what seemed like an age and yet no time at all, their lips parted. Her eyes remained closed for a moment before her lids slowly lifted, still hanging low as they met his eyes. He smelled of salt, both of body and sea air, and somehow smelled of wood and spices. Was it the leather of his armor? Leto inhaled again, half of her mind preoccupied with the scent of a man but also thinking of nothing at all...
Well...almost nothing.
In short, Leto decided in that moment that she liked being kissed.
The space between them had not parted terribly far, so it was an easy and natural movement for her to lean in once again to press her lips to his again, breathing him in as she did so. Was she good at this? She could not tell, but her natural instincts led her hand to trail up beneath his arm to rest on the arch of his collarbone, stepping in closer to do so.
It was too much in a moment for her to think of the ultimate meaning behind all of this, yet she could not stand here on the cliffside and kiss a man for all eternity. That was the stuff of gods and stories, not her.
"I..." Leto started, before an errant, breathy laugh escaped her. Her own laugh startled her, which welcomed a few sparse other laughs. Shaking her head as if to rid them from her lips she looked back up to him, attempting to speak again....only to dissolve into a few other soft laughs.
"I don't know what to say...." she managed to coax out between the chuckles and a broad grin. Her eyes glistened with the overwhelm of emotions that could hardly be turned into thoughts. Yet, somehow, as her laughter only remained as a soft bubbling lilt in her voice, she found something to say.
"I will take care of it. Your heart, that is. While you are away."
As soon as she said it, unsure as to whether or not they had formed from her mind entirely or were borrowed from the pages hiding in her library, another soft laugh escaped her at the way she must have sounded to him.
Ever so slowly, she unfurled her arms from where they had become entwined, her face aglow with a blush and a smile and the shimmer of giddy and confused emotion in her eyes. She glanced away slightly, then back to him, then away once more, biting her lip as a show of her own nerves.
"I....have never been here before. Can you show me the way?"
Her arms instinctively curled around one of his, and she glanced up at him, only for it to make her blush and grin once again. Was it appropriate to grin and laugh outside of the walls for the God of War? Leto did not know.
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The wind climbing the cliffside managed to make a mess of her hair again, despite the increasing time and effort that she had started putting into its maintenance on a daily basis. After all, the meeting she had been to before her escape to the Temple of Ares had women of all levels of society coming together to coordinate the supplies for the war. While she was not nobility by any stretch of the imagination, her brother's station was well-known in Midas and with the guidance of Lady Iolanthe, Leto had done her best to start looking the part of a woman who had, in fact, attended court.
There was the briefest flicker of a moment after she blurted out her knowledge of the impending war where she felt hesitation. Had she said too much? Her tongue had caused her grief in the past for simply stating the first thing on her mind without consideration. Yet, at Maleos words, coupled with a smile that seemed to change the entire geography of his face, Leto laughed. A slight blush once again crept across her cheeks.
"Ah, I have heard that before," she teased back, her grin pressing into her cheeks as she tied Eteon's leads to the post, "It's only my birth and my brother that stand in the way of such a thing." Once the leads were tied, she noted Maleos step closer, in shorter, paused steps at a time. Curious.
At his confirmation, Leto nodded, knowing by the names and provinces associated with the various Captains and Commanders on missives delivered to and from Magnus' desk. His gift of "The Heritage and History of Colchis" a few years back had been invaluable now for her to know the details behind the inner workings of court and country. In fact, she had immediately recognized his hand on the exterior of a missive or two, as it matched the ones he had delivered to her.
"Soon, I know," she added, noting the timing he mentioned and tilting her head to glance up at the wall of the temple - one she had never visited before - before looking back to him. "I hope Ares will hear my prayers for your safe return, and the safe return of all who are going."
Her initial motion was to start towards the temple gate, but her step fell short as Maleos stepped in closer to her. While her expression held, her eyes scanned the continuing curiosity of his expression, attempting to solve the mystery of it before his words charmed her.
Deadly and beautiful? Leto had always found her appearance to be...less than beautiful. Striking, perhaps, with her height and pronounced features that were as far from lithe and petite as could be, she could not easily consider herself such. Deadly, perhaps by accident. Her thoughts went to the odd and humorous bout between herself and the Valaoritis lord, Silanos, under Maleos' tutelage. Without his guidance, it could have been deadly - if only by accident.
Still, his words sent another rush of pink to her cheeks as she glanced away and down at the ground between them as if to disagree, but his continued words pulled her attention back to him, curiosity winning out over the rush of emotion.
Leto hung on every word, laying them into place like pieces of a mosaic, forming a figure or a scene on the wall. Around the edges, the thoughts began to make sense, but the whole picture did not fully form until he stepped in closer to her. Standing her ground, the only movement she made was to hook a tendril of hair that had been dancing across her nose and brow for a moment now and tuck it back behind her ear. All the while, her eyes never left the Captain's gaze.
He was nervous, and she started to feel as though she knew why as she glanced down to see him take her hands in his. Her breath caught in her chest, with her soft lips parted ever so slightly as the air tried to decide if it wanted in or out of her lungs. Blinking a few times at the touch they shared, she noticed the warmth and the difference in size between them before her eyes drew upward along his the line of his chest, to his collarbone, to the evening shadow along his jaw, then once again to his eyes, where they remained.
In the stories she read, there were moments like these. It usually fell right before such a time as a war, much like this, where the unknown brought out truths and secrets like wine poured from a jar.
It would be a lie to say Leto had not thought of Maleos instantly as she heard the first whisper of war, and the way the pit of fear deepened in her gut had surprised her. Dread filled her. All her life, she had known many who had gone away to wars and battles and skirmishes throughout the northern lands - many of whom held swords in their hands made by her father. Yet, this was the first time someone she knew - someone she liked - was going away with no guarantee of a safe return. For the first time, the words in her stories made sense, and the gravity of this moment was not lost on her.
As he confessed his true feelings, Leto felt surprised by the stinging of emotion around the edges of her eyes. Why did tears threaten to fall? She was not sad, at least not in this moment. Yet, this unspoken and unnamed emotion within her welled behind her eyes, and her brows pinched together and upward as if to compensate for such a thing, to no true avail.
Hardly a moment had passed, and Leto blinked a few time and took in a deep breath, hoping some of the sea air could bring measurable words to her lips. Before that could happen, Maleos hands cupped her cheeks.
It happened in slow motion, and for a brief moment, Leto felt as though she were a performer on the stage of the ampitheatre, performing for everyone and no one.
The swell in her chest was the crescendo of music, both deafening and silent in her ears at once. The way she closed her eyes and moved one hand to cover his over her cheek and the other to the side of is upper arm was a dance she had always seen but never learned. The kiss was poetry, a lingering couplet as old as time itself, yet spoken on the lips of two new actors who shared in the story.
This moment of her first kiss would be seared into her mind forever.
After what seemed like an age and yet no time at all, their lips parted. Her eyes remained closed for a moment before her lids slowly lifted, still hanging low as they met his eyes. He smelled of salt, both of body and sea air, and somehow smelled of wood and spices. Was it the leather of his armor? Leto inhaled again, half of her mind preoccupied with the scent of a man but also thinking of nothing at all...
Well...almost nothing.
In short, Leto decided in that moment that she liked being kissed.
The space between them had not parted terribly far, so it was an easy and natural movement for her to lean in once again to press her lips to his again, breathing him in as she did so. Was she good at this? She could not tell, but her natural instincts led her hand to trail up beneath his arm to rest on the arch of his collarbone, stepping in closer to do so.
It was too much in a moment for her to think of the ultimate meaning behind all of this, yet she could not stand here on the cliffside and kiss a man for all eternity. That was the stuff of gods and stories, not her.
"I..." Leto started, before an errant, breathy laugh escaped her. Her own laugh startled her, which welcomed a few sparse other laughs. Shaking her head as if to rid them from her lips she looked back up to him, attempting to speak again....only to dissolve into a few other soft laughs.
"I don't know what to say...." she managed to coax out between the chuckles and a broad grin. Her eyes glistened with the overwhelm of emotions that could hardly be turned into thoughts. Yet, somehow, as her laughter only remained as a soft bubbling lilt in her voice, she found something to say.
"I will take care of it. Your heart, that is. While you are away."
As soon as she said it, unsure as to whether or not they had formed from her mind entirely or were borrowed from the pages hiding in her library, another soft laugh escaped her at the way she must have sounded to him.
Ever so slowly, she unfurled her arms from where they had become entwined, her face aglow with a blush and a smile and the shimmer of giddy and confused emotion in her eyes. She glanced away slightly, then back to him, then away once more, biting her lip as a show of her own nerves.
"I....have never been here before. Can you show me the way?"
Her arms instinctively curled around one of his, and she glanced up at him, only for it to make her blush and grin once again. Was it appropriate to grin and laugh outside of the walls for the God of War? Leto did not know.
The wind climbing the cliffside managed to make a mess of her hair again, despite the increasing time and effort that she had started putting into its maintenance on a daily basis. After all, the meeting she had been to before her escape to the Temple of Ares had women of all levels of society coming together to coordinate the supplies for the war. While she was not nobility by any stretch of the imagination, her brother's station was well-known in Midas and with the guidance of Lady Iolanthe, Leto had done her best to start looking the part of a woman who had, in fact, attended court.
There was the briefest flicker of a moment after she blurted out her knowledge of the impending war where she felt hesitation. Had she said too much? Her tongue had caused her grief in the past for simply stating the first thing on her mind without consideration. Yet, at Maleos words, coupled with a smile that seemed to change the entire geography of his face, Leto laughed. A slight blush once again crept across her cheeks.
"Ah, I have heard that before," she teased back, her grin pressing into her cheeks as she tied Eteon's leads to the post, "It's only my birth and my brother that stand in the way of such a thing." Once the leads were tied, she noted Maleos step closer, in shorter, paused steps at a time. Curious.
At his confirmation, Leto nodded, knowing by the names and provinces associated with the various Captains and Commanders on missives delivered to and from Magnus' desk. His gift of "The Heritage and History of Colchis" a few years back had been invaluable now for her to know the details behind the inner workings of court and country. In fact, she had immediately recognized his hand on the exterior of a missive or two, as it matched the ones he had delivered to her.
"Soon, I know," she added, noting the timing he mentioned and tilting her head to glance up at the wall of the temple - one she had never visited before - before looking back to him. "I hope Ares will hear my prayers for your safe return, and the safe return of all who are going."
Her initial motion was to start towards the temple gate, but her step fell short as Maleos stepped in closer to her. While her expression held, her eyes scanned the continuing curiosity of his expression, attempting to solve the mystery of it before his words charmed her.
Deadly and beautiful? Leto had always found her appearance to be...less than beautiful. Striking, perhaps, with her height and pronounced features that were as far from lithe and petite as could be, she could not easily consider herself such. Deadly, perhaps by accident. Her thoughts went to the odd and humorous bout between herself and the Valaoritis lord, Silanos, under Maleos' tutelage. Without his guidance, it could have been deadly - if only by accident.
Still, his words sent another rush of pink to her cheeks as she glanced away and down at the ground between them as if to disagree, but his continued words pulled her attention back to him, curiosity winning out over the rush of emotion.
Leto hung on every word, laying them into place like pieces of a mosaic, forming a figure or a scene on the wall. Around the edges, the thoughts began to make sense, but the whole picture did not fully form until he stepped in closer to her. Standing her ground, the only movement she made was to hook a tendril of hair that had been dancing across her nose and brow for a moment now and tuck it back behind her ear. All the while, her eyes never left the Captain's gaze.
He was nervous, and she started to feel as though she knew why as she glanced down to see him take her hands in his. Her breath caught in her chest, with her soft lips parted ever so slightly as the air tried to decide if it wanted in or out of her lungs. Blinking a few times at the touch they shared, she noticed the warmth and the difference in size between them before her eyes drew upward along his the line of his chest, to his collarbone, to the evening shadow along his jaw, then once again to his eyes, where they remained.
In the stories she read, there were moments like these. It usually fell right before such a time as a war, much like this, where the unknown brought out truths and secrets like wine poured from a jar.
It would be a lie to say Leto had not thought of Maleos instantly as she heard the first whisper of war, and the way the pit of fear deepened in her gut had surprised her. Dread filled her. All her life, she had known many who had gone away to wars and battles and skirmishes throughout the northern lands - many of whom held swords in their hands made by her father. Yet, this was the first time someone she knew - someone she liked - was going away with no guarantee of a safe return. For the first time, the words in her stories made sense, and the gravity of this moment was not lost on her.
As he confessed his true feelings, Leto felt surprised by the stinging of emotion around the edges of her eyes. Why did tears threaten to fall? She was not sad, at least not in this moment. Yet, this unspoken and unnamed emotion within her welled behind her eyes, and her brows pinched together and upward as if to compensate for such a thing, to no true avail.
Hardly a moment had passed, and Leto blinked a few time and took in a deep breath, hoping some of the sea air could bring measurable words to her lips. Before that could happen, Maleos hands cupped her cheeks.
It happened in slow motion, and for a brief moment, Leto felt as though she were a performer on the stage of the ampitheatre, performing for everyone and no one.
The swell in her chest was the crescendo of music, both deafening and silent in her ears at once. The way she closed her eyes and moved one hand to cover his over her cheek and the other to the side of is upper arm was a dance she had always seen but never learned. The kiss was poetry, a lingering couplet as old as time itself, yet spoken on the lips of two new actors who shared in the story.
This moment of her first kiss would be seared into her mind forever.
After what seemed like an age and yet no time at all, their lips parted. Her eyes remained closed for a moment before her lids slowly lifted, still hanging low as they met his eyes. He smelled of salt, both of body and sea air, and somehow smelled of wood and spices. Was it the leather of his armor? Leto inhaled again, half of her mind preoccupied with the scent of a man but also thinking of nothing at all...
Well...almost nothing.
In short, Leto decided in that moment that she liked being kissed.
The space between them had not parted terribly far, so it was an easy and natural movement for her to lean in once again to press her lips to his again, breathing him in as she did so. Was she good at this? She could not tell, but her natural instincts led her hand to trail up beneath his arm to rest on the arch of his collarbone, stepping in closer to do so.
It was too much in a moment for her to think of the ultimate meaning behind all of this, yet she could not stand here on the cliffside and kiss a man for all eternity. That was the stuff of gods and stories, not her.
"I..." Leto started, before an errant, breathy laugh escaped her. Her own laugh startled her, which welcomed a few sparse other laughs. Shaking her head as if to rid them from her lips she looked back up to him, attempting to speak again....only to dissolve into a few other soft laughs.
"I don't know what to say...." she managed to coax out between the chuckles and a broad grin. Her eyes glistened with the overwhelm of emotions that could hardly be turned into thoughts. Yet, somehow, as her laughter only remained as a soft bubbling lilt in her voice, she found something to say.
"I will take care of it. Your heart, that is. While you are away."
As soon as she said it, unsure as to whether or not they had formed from her mind entirely or were borrowed from the pages hiding in her library, another soft laugh escaped her at the way she must have sounded to him.
Ever so slowly, she unfurled her arms from where they had become entwined, her face aglow with a blush and a smile and the shimmer of giddy and confused emotion in her eyes. She glanced away slightly, then back to him, then away once more, biting her lip as a show of her own nerves.
"I....have never been here before. Can you show me the way?"
Her arms instinctively curled around one of his, and she glanced up at him, only for it to make her blush and grin once again. Was it appropriate to grin and laugh outside of the walls for the God of War? Leto did not know.
He took it as a good sign, that she made no move to pull away from him as he moved closer, noting the blush on her cheeks and confusion in her gaze. Had she truly not noticed his feelings for her? Though the Captain had attempted to be subtle, at least in the presence of others, he had thought that his words in his letters to her, coupled with his soft actions when around her would be enough for her to realized. He thought for a moment, that it was not too late to stop this, to pretend as if nothing had happened and she would never have to know of his feelings. He could go to war, and she could continue with her life, not knowing of the man who loved her so deeply.
Yet, what kind of coward would he be, if he could not even admit his feelings to the woman who had his heart?
Her reaction as they kissed had him hopeful, her hand on his and the other on his arm, the way her lips moved with his, returning the affectionate gesture, it had him hoping that perhaps she felt the same. Perhaps he had been right in taking this chance, in confessing his feelings and being so vulnerable in front of someone for the first time in his life. Not even Timaeus has seen him in such a completely open and emotional state.
When the kiss broke, a silence was left between the two, and Maleos wished in that moment that he could read her thoughts as she gazed over at him, their eyes locked on each other as he almost desperately searched for any sign of what she might be thinking. Her thoughts did not come to him, nor did he truly expect them to.
He had not expected the second kiss, but he gladly returned it, feeling an unfamiliar feeling that started in his chest and quickly moved through the rest of his body, an explosive sort of joy that no amount of combat or promotions could ever bring him. Her hand moved up his arm, and in the same movement, his slid down to her hips, wrapping tightly around her to pull her in as close as possible as they kissed. Maleos knew that he would not forget this moment, that it would bring him comfort in even the darkest moments of the looming war. If he was fated to not return this time, he would at least have the memory of her soft lips and gentle touch to send him happily to the afterlife.
The kiss ended far too soon for him, and he wished that they could remain on that cliffside forever, tangled in this easy embrace. Instead his arms let go of her, and he stood waiting for her words.
He was surprised as the first thing that came from her was… laughter. He felt his heart sink, the previous elation from their shared kiss disappearing completely at the sound of her laughter. Normally something he loved to hear, in the current context of the moment, it was as if she had plunged a dagger into his heart.
And all at once, the moment was over. The soft embrace that he had yearned for was gone, replaced by her insistence that they enter the temple and pray. Maleos swallowed his disappointment, nodding a little, he remained silent as the soft look faded from his eyes, and the stone wall he had built in his mind returned.
He felt her touch on his arm, and he did his best to push his hurt away. Unsure what to think, with no admission of returned feelings and the laughter that had followed their kiss, he tried his best to regain composure and carry on with his intended prayers.
He led her forward, towards the temple at which he worshipped often. They stepped inside the temple, the halls quiet, as not even the priests attended at such late hours. Without a word he led her towards a carved stone bowl of clear, crisp water. He assumed that she would know to follow suit and do as he did. He pulled his arm gently from her touch, dipping his hands in the water, he washed them in the cool liquid, though they were clean already, he had made sure to bathe before their meeting.
He took a clean piece of cloth from the carefully folded stack beside the water basin, and he dried his hands off, placing the used piece of cloth in a woven basket that waited next to the basin and stack of clean cloths.
He waited for her to do the same, before motioning her forward, making his way into one of the prayer rooms. It was plain inside, a statue of the God of War stood tall and strong, and in front of it sat a sacrificial altar, typically a dog, sheep or boar would be bled here, in honour of the God. Today he had no such animal to sacrifice but would still offer blood to Ares.
He moved to kneel in front of the altar, pulling a short knife from his belt, he placed the sharp blade to the palm of his hand, holding it over the altar, he sliced a small cut into his palm, just enough for a bit of blood to drip down and onto the already stained stone below.
Satisfied with the drips of blood, he replaced the knife in his belt, wrapping his hand with a piece of cloth he had brought. He did not expect that she would follow him in these specific actions.
He knelt there quietly for a moment before he looked over at her.
“Speak your prayers, know that Ares is listening.” He said to her, voice low as he spoke, though the echoing stone made it sound louder than it had been. He wondered what she would say, what she would pray for exactly, and if she would be able to find the words to speak to his God.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He took it as a good sign, that she made no move to pull away from him as he moved closer, noting the blush on her cheeks and confusion in her gaze. Had she truly not noticed his feelings for her? Though the Captain had attempted to be subtle, at least in the presence of others, he had thought that his words in his letters to her, coupled with his soft actions when around her would be enough for her to realized. He thought for a moment, that it was not too late to stop this, to pretend as if nothing had happened and she would never have to know of his feelings. He could go to war, and she could continue with her life, not knowing of the man who loved her so deeply.
Yet, what kind of coward would he be, if he could not even admit his feelings to the woman who had his heart?
Her reaction as they kissed had him hopeful, her hand on his and the other on his arm, the way her lips moved with his, returning the affectionate gesture, it had him hoping that perhaps she felt the same. Perhaps he had been right in taking this chance, in confessing his feelings and being so vulnerable in front of someone for the first time in his life. Not even Timaeus has seen him in such a completely open and emotional state.
When the kiss broke, a silence was left between the two, and Maleos wished in that moment that he could read her thoughts as she gazed over at him, their eyes locked on each other as he almost desperately searched for any sign of what she might be thinking. Her thoughts did not come to him, nor did he truly expect them to.
He had not expected the second kiss, but he gladly returned it, feeling an unfamiliar feeling that started in his chest and quickly moved through the rest of his body, an explosive sort of joy that no amount of combat or promotions could ever bring him. Her hand moved up his arm, and in the same movement, his slid down to her hips, wrapping tightly around her to pull her in as close as possible as they kissed. Maleos knew that he would not forget this moment, that it would bring him comfort in even the darkest moments of the looming war. If he was fated to not return this time, he would at least have the memory of her soft lips and gentle touch to send him happily to the afterlife.
The kiss ended far too soon for him, and he wished that they could remain on that cliffside forever, tangled in this easy embrace. Instead his arms let go of her, and he stood waiting for her words.
He was surprised as the first thing that came from her was… laughter. He felt his heart sink, the previous elation from their shared kiss disappearing completely at the sound of her laughter. Normally something he loved to hear, in the current context of the moment, it was as if she had plunged a dagger into his heart.
And all at once, the moment was over. The soft embrace that he had yearned for was gone, replaced by her insistence that they enter the temple and pray. Maleos swallowed his disappointment, nodding a little, he remained silent as the soft look faded from his eyes, and the stone wall he had built in his mind returned.
He felt her touch on his arm, and he did his best to push his hurt away. Unsure what to think, with no admission of returned feelings and the laughter that had followed their kiss, he tried his best to regain composure and carry on with his intended prayers.
He led her forward, towards the temple at which he worshipped often. They stepped inside the temple, the halls quiet, as not even the priests attended at such late hours. Without a word he led her towards a carved stone bowl of clear, crisp water. He assumed that she would know to follow suit and do as he did. He pulled his arm gently from her touch, dipping his hands in the water, he washed them in the cool liquid, though they were clean already, he had made sure to bathe before their meeting.
He took a clean piece of cloth from the carefully folded stack beside the water basin, and he dried his hands off, placing the used piece of cloth in a woven basket that waited next to the basin and stack of clean cloths.
He waited for her to do the same, before motioning her forward, making his way into one of the prayer rooms. It was plain inside, a statue of the God of War stood tall and strong, and in front of it sat a sacrificial altar, typically a dog, sheep or boar would be bled here, in honour of the God. Today he had no such animal to sacrifice but would still offer blood to Ares.
He moved to kneel in front of the altar, pulling a short knife from his belt, he placed the sharp blade to the palm of his hand, holding it over the altar, he sliced a small cut into his palm, just enough for a bit of blood to drip down and onto the already stained stone below.
Satisfied with the drips of blood, he replaced the knife in his belt, wrapping his hand with a piece of cloth he had brought. He did not expect that she would follow him in these specific actions.
He knelt there quietly for a moment before he looked over at her.
“Speak your prayers, know that Ares is listening.” He said to her, voice low as he spoke, though the echoing stone made it sound louder than it had been. He wondered what she would say, what she would pray for exactly, and if she would be able to find the words to speak to his God.
He took it as a good sign, that she made no move to pull away from him as he moved closer, noting the blush on her cheeks and confusion in her gaze. Had she truly not noticed his feelings for her? Though the Captain had attempted to be subtle, at least in the presence of others, he had thought that his words in his letters to her, coupled with his soft actions when around her would be enough for her to realized. He thought for a moment, that it was not too late to stop this, to pretend as if nothing had happened and she would never have to know of his feelings. He could go to war, and she could continue with her life, not knowing of the man who loved her so deeply.
Yet, what kind of coward would he be, if he could not even admit his feelings to the woman who had his heart?
Her reaction as they kissed had him hopeful, her hand on his and the other on his arm, the way her lips moved with his, returning the affectionate gesture, it had him hoping that perhaps she felt the same. Perhaps he had been right in taking this chance, in confessing his feelings and being so vulnerable in front of someone for the first time in his life. Not even Timaeus has seen him in such a completely open and emotional state.
When the kiss broke, a silence was left between the two, and Maleos wished in that moment that he could read her thoughts as she gazed over at him, their eyes locked on each other as he almost desperately searched for any sign of what she might be thinking. Her thoughts did not come to him, nor did he truly expect them to.
He had not expected the second kiss, but he gladly returned it, feeling an unfamiliar feeling that started in his chest and quickly moved through the rest of his body, an explosive sort of joy that no amount of combat or promotions could ever bring him. Her hand moved up his arm, and in the same movement, his slid down to her hips, wrapping tightly around her to pull her in as close as possible as they kissed. Maleos knew that he would not forget this moment, that it would bring him comfort in even the darkest moments of the looming war. If he was fated to not return this time, he would at least have the memory of her soft lips and gentle touch to send him happily to the afterlife.
The kiss ended far too soon for him, and he wished that they could remain on that cliffside forever, tangled in this easy embrace. Instead his arms let go of her, and he stood waiting for her words.
He was surprised as the first thing that came from her was… laughter. He felt his heart sink, the previous elation from their shared kiss disappearing completely at the sound of her laughter. Normally something he loved to hear, in the current context of the moment, it was as if she had plunged a dagger into his heart.
And all at once, the moment was over. The soft embrace that he had yearned for was gone, replaced by her insistence that they enter the temple and pray. Maleos swallowed his disappointment, nodding a little, he remained silent as the soft look faded from his eyes, and the stone wall he had built in his mind returned.
He felt her touch on his arm, and he did his best to push his hurt away. Unsure what to think, with no admission of returned feelings and the laughter that had followed their kiss, he tried his best to regain composure and carry on with his intended prayers.
He led her forward, towards the temple at which he worshipped often. They stepped inside the temple, the halls quiet, as not even the priests attended at such late hours. Without a word he led her towards a carved stone bowl of clear, crisp water. He assumed that she would know to follow suit and do as he did. He pulled his arm gently from her touch, dipping his hands in the water, he washed them in the cool liquid, though they were clean already, he had made sure to bathe before their meeting.
He took a clean piece of cloth from the carefully folded stack beside the water basin, and he dried his hands off, placing the used piece of cloth in a woven basket that waited next to the basin and stack of clean cloths.
He waited for her to do the same, before motioning her forward, making his way into one of the prayer rooms. It was plain inside, a statue of the God of War stood tall and strong, and in front of it sat a sacrificial altar, typically a dog, sheep or boar would be bled here, in honour of the God. Today he had no such animal to sacrifice but would still offer blood to Ares.
He moved to kneel in front of the altar, pulling a short knife from his belt, he placed the sharp blade to the palm of his hand, holding it over the altar, he sliced a small cut into his palm, just enough for a bit of blood to drip down and onto the already stained stone below.
Satisfied with the drips of blood, he replaced the knife in his belt, wrapping his hand with a piece of cloth he had brought. He did not expect that she would follow him in these specific actions.
He knelt there quietly for a moment before he looked over at her.
“Speak your prayers, know that Ares is listening.” He said to her, voice low as he spoke, though the echoing stone made it sound louder than it had been. He wondered what she would say, what she would pray for exactly, and if she would be able to find the words to speak to his God.
For a moment, Leto's mind seemed to resemble the rare, blustery snow flurries that used to whip through the streets of Chaossis. Each flake was a thought that swirled to quickly to be captured and strung together into anything cohesive. Suddenly aware of the smallest little things, she realized how quickly she was blinking, like the rapid strikes of flint against metal to create some sort of spark of thought behind her eyes.
The bubbles of laughter began to subside, her words making their way through her lips is what she hoped were coherent sentences as she tried to gain what little composure she had gathered over the past year. It was easier to find such stillness as her mind slowly began to register the slightest shift in Maleos' expression as they made their way towards the temple.
The soft, almost bashful smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips loosened its hold, her eyes rounding out from the smiling slant they had held as her thoughts began to gather. Part of her mind took in their surroundings, observing the stoic differences between the halls for this god of war instead of her own patron goddess, Athena. Yet, it only took half of her mind as her eyes flickered back and forth to Maleos, who took on a more solemn pose that did not necessarily speak to the reverence of the room they stood in.
Once or twice, her lips parted and she took in a breath as if to ask what was the matter or to apologize for some sin she committed, but instead, each time she bit slightly on her lower lip as if to pin her mouth shut and glanced away, trying desperately to keep the sharp tingle of nerves at the base of her throat from showing.
Watching as Maleos began the ritual of worship, Leto followed suit by dipping her hands into the bowl of water and washing them clean, removing the salt of the sea air and the slight wear of the bridle's leather reins from her hands. Drying her hands in the same manner, she followed behind him by a few steps, her mind partially fascinated and anxious in this unfamiliar place but also replaying every moment from just outside of the doors.
What had she done? The laughter - gods, she had not meant to offend him! Her reaction was at fault for this, but now was not the time or place to address it. With each step, she attempted to sort the words she meant to say to him, some form of apology and reflection of his feelings - which she held, she believed. It was hard for her to process the difference in the reality of having feelings for someone opposed to the way the facsimile of it felt when reading or seeing it performed. It felt different, more real...yet somehow, less believable? It seemed like something that would be more believable to happen to some character than ever to her - perhaps that was why she laughed? His feelings were not funny - they were real...and that was the insanity of it.
He loved her?
How impossible!
Yes, they had known each other as children and yes, every moment they had met with one another had both of them smiling - something neither of them seemed to do in their natural, every day world. There was a trust there. An understanding. Shared interest. Similar levels of devotion to their respective gods. They were both common born thrust into this world of high society in their own ways. They found the same things funny. They were neither too chatty nor to stoic each, at least not around one another.
And they had kissed. And she liked it.
Even in the candlelight, the blush had still not faded from her cheeks and her lips still tingled as if they felt the slight scratch of the stubble on his lip against them. He had wrapped his arms around her and it felt in that moment that she could have floated from the ground. Even now, her mind had not fully recovered from the soft hum that the kiss had left within it.
Anyone could kiss - but that with how much she shared in common with him, with how they felt in one another's company...it did not perfectly reflect what happened in the storybooks, but felt far more grounded - more real...
...is that what love truly was?
All thoughts in that direction evaporated the moment he brought the blade against his own skin, her expression stilling but making no sound as she watched his blood spill onto the altar. Athena never asked for such thing, but then again, from childhood Leto knew of the differences between the god and goddess of war.
Leto stood behind Maleos a moment, watching as he kneeled to pray, saying that Ares would hear her words as she spoke them. Mentioning the god's name sent her eyes upward, gazing at the looming figure, his eyes painted red with the lust for bloodshed. Leto would not describe how she felt as nervous so much as she felt the need to prove that her prayers would be heard. Yes, she was here with Maleos as a guest before the god, and his blood was on the altar before them - but she grit her teeth slightly, her jaw tightening as she made a choice, pulling her own, much smaller blade from around her calf quietly and drawing it against her skin, just beneath the littlest finger on her left hand, watching as the blood seeped forward.
Taking a step forward to kneel beside Maleos, she clenched her fist slightly, allowing several drops of blood to plop into the small pool of his, the sound of the droplets seeming to echo against the silence of the hall. Her hand hovered there a moment as her eyes sought the Captain's.
He may have doubted how she felt, with the laughter that took the place of words on her lips, but with this, she hoped she could show instead of say how she felt - and what having him returned safely would mean to her as the gravity of war sank in.
"Ares, son of Hera, son of Zeus, God of Warriors and Blood," Leto started, her voice quiet but steady as she looked at where her hand bled over the altar still, before looking up to the statue again. The words began to pour from her, unrehearsed but genuine, "Hear my prayer. Lend strength and protection to the men of Colchis and those who lead them across the sea, twofold - there and back again. Bolster their hearts against any fear, sharpen their blades and their minds and their spirits."
There was a pause in her words as she took a breath, wondering already if she asked too much of the god, but clenching her hand even tighter, stymieing the bloodflow even as she did so, the sting of pain urging her to finish her prayer, "Great Ares...I pray you watch over Maleos, who heeded your call, who has practiced your art since his youth, whose name you know well as he honors you with each day of service. Protect him....and return him to me."
As she said the words, her eyes shifted over to Maleos, catching his eyes as she finished, with the quietest murmur, "For I cannot bear the thought of a world without him."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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For a moment, Leto's mind seemed to resemble the rare, blustery snow flurries that used to whip through the streets of Chaossis. Each flake was a thought that swirled to quickly to be captured and strung together into anything cohesive. Suddenly aware of the smallest little things, she realized how quickly she was blinking, like the rapid strikes of flint against metal to create some sort of spark of thought behind her eyes.
The bubbles of laughter began to subside, her words making their way through her lips is what she hoped were coherent sentences as she tried to gain what little composure she had gathered over the past year. It was easier to find such stillness as her mind slowly began to register the slightest shift in Maleos' expression as they made their way towards the temple.
The soft, almost bashful smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips loosened its hold, her eyes rounding out from the smiling slant they had held as her thoughts began to gather. Part of her mind took in their surroundings, observing the stoic differences between the halls for this god of war instead of her own patron goddess, Athena. Yet, it only took half of her mind as her eyes flickered back and forth to Maleos, who took on a more solemn pose that did not necessarily speak to the reverence of the room they stood in.
Once or twice, her lips parted and she took in a breath as if to ask what was the matter or to apologize for some sin she committed, but instead, each time she bit slightly on her lower lip as if to pin her mouth shut and glanced away, trying desperately to keep the sharp tingle of nerves at the base of her throat from showing.
Watching as Maleos began the ritual of worship, Leto followed suit by dipping her hands into the bowl of water and washing them clean, removing the salt of the sea air and the slight wear of the bridle's leather reins from her hands. Drying her hands in the same manner, she followed behind him by a few steps, her mind partially fascinated and anxious in this unfamiliar place but also replaying every moment from just outside of the doors.
What had she done? The laughter - gods, she had not meant to offend him! Her reaction was at fault for this, but now was not the time or place to address it. With each step, she attempted to sort the words she meant to say to him, some form of apology and reflection of his feelings - which she held, she believed. It was hard for her to process the difference in the reality of having feelings for someone opposed to the way the facsimile of it felt when reading or seeing it performed. It felt different, more real...yet somehow, less believable? It seemed like something that would be more believable to happen to some character than ever to her - perhaps that was why she laughed? His feelings were not funny - they were real...and that was the insanity of it.
He loved her?
How impossible!
Yes, they had known each other as children and yes, every moment they had met with one another had both of them smiling - something neither of them seemed to do in their natural, every day world. There was a trust there. An understanding. Shared interest. Similar levels of devotion to their respective gods. They were both common born thrust into this world of high society in their own ways. They found the same things funny. They were neither too chatty nor to stoic each, at least not around one another.
And they had kissed. And she liked it.
Even in the candlelight, the blush had still not faded from her cheeks and her lips still tingled as if they felt the slight scratch of the stubble on his lip against them. He had wrapped his arms around her and it felt in that moment that she could have floated from the ground. Even now, her mind had not fully recovered from the soft hum that the kiss had left within it.
Anyone could kiss - but that with how much she shared in common with him, with how they felt in one another's company...it did not perfectly reflect what happened in the storybooks, but felt far more grounded - more real...
...is that what love truly was?
All thoughts in that direction evaporated the moment he brought the blade against his own skin, her expression stilling but making no sound as she watched his blood spill onto the altar. Athena never asked for such thing, but then again, from childhood Leto knew of the differences between the god and goddess of war.
Leto stood behind Maleos a moment, watching as he kneeled to pray, saying that Ares would hear her words as she spoke them. Mentioning the god's name sent her eyes upward, gazing at the looming figure, his eyes painted red with the lust for bloodshed. Leto would not describe how she felt as nervous so much as she felt the need to prove that her prayers would be heard. Yes, she was here with Maleos as a guest before the god, and his blood was on the altar before them - but she grit her teeth slightly, her jaw tightening as she made a choice, pulling her own, much smaller blade from around her calf quietly and drawing it against her skin, just beneath the littlest finger on her left hand, watching as the blood seeped forward.
Taking a step forward to kneel beside Maleos, she clenched her fist slightly, allowing several drops of blood to plop into the small pool of his, the sound of the droplets seeming to echo against the silence of the hall. Her hand hovered there a moment as her eyes sought the Captain's.
He may have doubted how she felt, with the laughter that took the place of words on her lips, but with this, she hoped she could show instead of say how she felt - and what having him returned safely would mean to her as the gravity of war sank in.
"Ares, son of Hera, son of Zeus, God of Warriors and Blood," Leto started, her voice quiet but steady as she looked at where her hand bled over the altar still, before looking up to the statue again. The words began to pour from her, unrehearsed but genuine, "Hear my prayer. Lend strength and protection to the men of Colchis and those who lead them across the sea, twofold - there and back again. Bolster their hearts against any fear, sharpen their blades and their minds and their spirits."
There was a pause in her words as she took a breath, wondering already if she asked too much of the god, but clenching her hand even tighter, stymieing the bloodflow even as she did so, the sting of pain urging her to finish her prayer, "Great Ares...I pray you watch over Maleos, who heeded your call, who has practiced your art since his youth, whose name you know well as he honors you with each day of service. Protect him....and return him to me."
As she said the words, her eyes shifted over to Maleos, catching his eyes as she finished, with the quietest murmur, "For I cannot bear the thought of a world without him."
For a moment, Leto's mind seemed to resemble the rare, blustery snow flurries that used to whip through the streets of Chaossis. Each flake was a thought that swirled to quickly to be captured and strung together into anything cohesive. Suddenly aware of the smallest little things, she realized how quickly she was blinking, like the rapid strikes of flint against metal to create some sort of spark of thought behind her eyes.
The bubbles of laughter began to subside, her words making their way through her lips is what she hoped were coherent sentences as she tried to gain what little composure she had gathered over the past year. It was easier to find such stillness as her mind slowly began to register the slightest shift in Maleos' expression as they made their way towards the temple.
The soft, almost bashful smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips loosened its hold, her eyes rounding out from the smiling slant they had held as her thoughts began to gather. Part of her mind took in their surroundings, observing the stoic differences between the halls for this god of war instead of her own patron goddess, Athena. Yet, it only took half of her mind as her eyes flickered back and forth to Maleos, who took on a more solemn pose that did not necessarily speak to the reverence of the room they stood in.
Once or twice, her lips parted and she took in a breath as if to ask what was the matter or to apologize for some sin she committed, but instead, each time she bit slightly on her lower lip as if to pin her mouth shut and glanced away, trying desperately to keep the sharp tingle of nerves at the base of her throat from showing.
Watching as Maleos began the ritual of worship, Leto followed suit by dipping her hands into the bowl of water and washing them clean, removing the salt of the sea air and the slight wear of the bridle's leather reins from her hands. Drying her hands in the same manner, she followed behind him by a few steps, her mind partially fascinated and anxious in this unfamiliar place but also replaying every moment from just outside of the doors.
What had she done? The laughter - gods, she had not meant to offend him! Her reaction was at fault for this, but now was not the time or place to address it. With each step, she attempted to sort the words she meant to say to him, some form of apology and reflection of his feelings - which she held, she believed. It was hard for her to process the difference in the reality of having feelings for someone opposed to the way the facsimile of it felt when reading or seeing it performed. It felt different, more real...yet somehow, less believable? It seemed like something that would be more believable to happen to some character than ever to her - perhaps that was why she laughed? His feelings were not funny - they were real...and that was the insanity of it.
He loved her?
How impossible!
Yes, they had known each other as children and yes, every moment they had met with one another had both of them smiling - something neither of them seemed to do in their natural, every day world. There was a trust there. An understanding. Shared interest. Similar levels of devotion to their respective gods. They were both common born thrust into this world of high society in their own ways. They found the same things funny. They were neither too chatty nor to stoic each, at least not around one another.
And they had kissed. And she liked it.
Even in the candlelight, the blush had still not faded from her cheeks and her lips still tingled as if they felt the slight scratch of the stubble on his lip against them. He had wrapped his arms around her and it felt in that moment that she could have floated from the ground. Even now, her mind had not fully recovered from the soft hum that the kiss had left within it.
Anyone could kiss - but that with how much she shared in common with him, with how they felt in one another's company...it did not perfectly reflect what happened in the storybooks, but felt far more grounded - more real...
...is that what love truly was?
All thoughts in that direction evaporated the moment he brought the blade against his own skin, her expression stilling but making no sound as she watched his blood spill onto the altar. Athena never asked for such thing, but then again, from childhood Leto knew of the differences between the god and goddess of war.
Leto stood behind Maleos a moment, watching as he kneeled to pray, saying that Ares would hear her words as she spoke them. Mentioning the god's name sent her eyes upward, gazing at the looming figure, his eyes painted red with the lust for bloodshed. Leto would not describe how she felt as nervous so much as she felt the need to prove that her prayers would be heard. Yes, she was here with Maleos as a guest before the god, and his blood was on the altar before them - but she grit her teeth slightly, her jaw tightening as she made a choice, pulling her own, much smaller blade from around her calf quietly and drawing it against her skin, just beneath the littlest finger on her left hand, watching as the blood seeped forward.
Taking a step forward to kneel beside Maleos, she clenched her fist slightly, allowing several drops of blood to plop into the small pool of his, the sound of the droplets seeming to echo against the silence of the hall. Her hand hovered there a moment as her eyes sought the Captain's.
He may have doubted how she felt, with the laughter that took the place of words on her lips, but with this, she hoped she could show instead of say how she felt - and what having him returned safely would mean to her as the gravity of war sank in.
"Ares, son of Hera, son of Zeus, God of Warriors and Blood," Leto started, her voice quiet but steady as she looked at where her hand bled over the altar still, before looking up to the statue again. The words began to pour from her, unrehearsed but genuine, "Hear my prayer. Lend strength and protection to the men of Colchis and those who lead them across the sea, twofold - there and back again. Bolster their hearts against any fear, sharpen their blades and their minds and their spirits."
There was a pause in her words as she took a breath, wondering already if she asked too much of the god, but clenching her hand even tighter, stymieing the bloodflow even as she did so, the sting of pain urging her to finish her prayer, "Great Ares...I pray you watch over Maleos, who heeded your call, who has practiced your art since his youth, whose name you know well as he honors you with each day of service. Protect him....and return him to me."
As she said the words, her eyes shifted over to Maleos, catching his eyes as she finished, with the quietest murmur, "For I cannot bear the thought of a world without him."
Maleos knelt there, awaiting Leto’s prayers, whether she chose to speak them out loud or keep them inward and to herself. What he had never expected in a thousand years was for her to step forward, her own blood dripping to join his on the stone in front of them. His eyes moved to look at the expression on her face, she seemed serious, in her actions and in her movements. Their eyes locked on each other for a moment, and Maleos’ gaze softened once more. Perhaps she hadn’t been able to express herself with words earlier, but her actions spoke loudly. A woman after Maleos’ own heart. He had only had words because he had been thinking about exactly what to say for days now. But the act of offering up her own blood to his God, of kneeling beside him to offer proper prayer, it was enough for Maleos.
His attentions turned back to the looming statue of Ares that stood before them as her words started. He remained silent, letting her prayers echo through the halls, hoping the stone walls would carry her words up to the God of War and would be heeded in exchange for the gift of blood that had been given, and the gift of death and blood Maleos would offer on the battlefield in the coming months.
Maleos’ eyes moved once more from the visage of his God and instead to the woman at his side as her prayer turned from the men of Colchis to just for him. The last sentence she spoke hit him deep, and if he was a weaker man he would have leaned over and kissed her right then and there. And while the temptation was there, to feel her lips upon his once more, to show his appreciation for her words, he knew now was not the appropriate place for such things.
His gaze remained on her for a moment before they returned to the face of his God, and his focus attempted to return to the prayers he would offer in the face of the war that loomed ahead of him.
“Ares, God of war, courage and strength. I ask you now for your hand to guide me in the coming war against Egypt. I offer my blood, and in exchange I pray to you to lend strength to your loyal followers, to the men of Colchis. I ask you now for a clear path to the defeat of our Egyptian enemies, and the resolve to see it done.” He started, his prayers for the most part tended to be for the good of Colchis, though every so often he had asked for strength for himself, in the end, Maleos had the good of his nation in mind with everything he did.
But with Leto at his side, he couldn’t help but feel the need to be a little bit selfish.
“I ask for your hand in seeing me safely home once more. With your guidance, fierce Ares, I will take the lives of our enemies in your name, and return once more upon the shores of my home and the arms of those I love.” He said, and with that, his prayers were done. At least the ones that he would want Leto to witness. He added more in his head before standing, words that would remain a mystery to anyone but himself and Ares, should the God choose to heed his words.
He moved to stand, holding his non-cut hand out to help Leto from her spot as well. When they were both on their feet, he moved to quietly exit the chamber and back outside, to the cliffsides where they had shared their kiss. Once outside, he moved to pull a piece of cloth off his own clothing. He hadn’t planned on her cutting her own hand, and as such he hadn’t brought anything to wrap her hand in.
He stepped forward and gently took the hand she had sliced, wrapping the clean cloth carefully around it, he tied it up tight enough that it wouldn’t fall off. She could remove it soon, it shouldn’t bleed for long.
When that task was done, he looked up from her hand and to her face once more.
“Will you allow me to write to you, after we march?” He asked softly, reaching forward, he tucked some loose hair behind her ear before his fingers gently ran across her cheek. His movements were soft and loving, those of a man who craved the intimate moment shared between them now before his life would be filled with blood and the promise of death at the end of every Egyptian’s weapon on the field of battle.
He would fill his spare moments at war with thoughts of this moment, and the one before where they had shared their kiss, and he would write to her in hopes that upon his return, her feelings would remain the same, or upon his death in the sands of Egypt, she would mourn.
He didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want these moments to end, but he knew that they were drawing to a close. He would need to return to his unit, to rest before the days of even more intense training would start, and she would need to return before anyone began to worry in her absence. If he had his way, the two would remain locked here together for the rest of their lives. Alas, fate would not have it so.
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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Maleos knelt there, awaiting Leto’s prayers, whether she chose to speak them out loud or keep them inward and to herself. What he had never expected in a thousand years was for her to step forward, her own blood dripping to join his on the stone in front of them. His eyes moved to look at the expression on her face, she seemed serious, in her actions and in her movements. Their eyes locked on each other for a moment, and Maleos’ gaze softened once more. Perhaps she hadn’t been able to express herself with words earlier, but her actions spoke loudly. A woman after Maleos’ own heart. He had only had words because he had been thinking about exactly what to say for days now. But the act of offering up her own blood to his God, of kneeling beside him to offer proper prayer, it was enough for Maleos.
His attentions turned back to the looming statue of Ares that stood before them as her words started. He remained silent, letting her prayers echo through the halls, hoping the stone walls would carry her words up to the God of War and would be heeded in exchange for the gift of blood that had been given, and the gift of death and blood Maleos would offer on the battlefield in the coming months.
Maleos’ eyes moved once more from the visage of his God and instead to the woman at his side as her prayer turned from the men of Colchis to just for him. The last sentence she spoke hit him deep, and if he was a weaker man he would have leaned over and kissed her right then and there. And while the temptation was there, to feel her lips upon his once more, to show his appreciation for her words, he knew now was not the appropriate place for such things.
His gaze remained on her for a moment before they returned to the face of his God, and his focus attempted to return to the prayers he would offer in the face of the war that loomed ahead of him.
“Ares, God of war, courage and strength. I ask you now for your hand to guide me in the coming war against Egypt. I offer my blood, and in exchange I pray to you to lend strength to your loyal followers, to the men of Colchis. I ask you now for a clear path to the defeat of our Egyptian enemies, and the resolve to see it done.” He started, his prayers for the most part tended to be for the good of Colchis, though every so often he had asked for strength for himself, in the end, Maleos had the good of his nation in mind with everything he did.
But with Leto at his side, he couldn’t help but feel the need to be a little bit selfish.
“I ask for your hand in seeing me safely home once more. With your guidance, fierce Ares, I will take the lives of our enemies in your name, and return once more upon the shores of my home and the arms of those I love.” He said, and with that, his prayers were done. At least the ones that he would want Leto to witness. He added more in his head before standing, words that would remain a mystery to anyone but himself and Ares, should the God choose to heed his words.
He moved to stand, holding his non-cut hand out to help Leto from her spot as well. When they were both on their feet, he moved to quietly exit the chamber and back outside, to the cliffsides where they had shared their kiss. Once outside, he moved to pull a piece of cloth off his own clothing. He hadn’t planned on her cutting her own hand, and as such he hadn’t brought anything to wrap her hand in.
He stepped forward and gently took the hand she had sliced, wrapping the clean cloth carefully around it, he tied it up tight enough that it wouldn’t fall off. She could remove it soon, it shouldn’t bleed for long.
When that task was done, he looked up from her hand and to her face once more.
“Will you allow me to write to you, after we march?” He asked softly, reaching forward, he tucked some loose hair behind her ear before his fingers gently ran across her cheek. His movements were soft and loving, those of a man who craved the intimate moment shared between them now before his life would be filled with blood and the promise of death at the end of every Egyptian’s weapon on the field of battle.
He would fill his spare moments at war with thoughts of this moment, and the one before where they had shared their kiss, and he would write to her in hopes that upon his return, her feelings would remain the same, or upon his death in the sands of Egypt, she would mourn.
He didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want these moments to end, but he knew that they were drawing to a close. He would need to return to his unit, to rest before the days of even more intense training would start, and she would need to return before anyone began to worry in her absence. If he had his way, the two would remain locked here together for the rest of their lives. Alas, fate would not have it so.
Maleos knelt there, awaiting Leto’s prayers, whether she chose to speak them out loud or keep them inward and to herself. What he had never expected in a thousand years was for her to step forward, her own blood dripping to join his on the stone in front of them. His eyes moved to look at the expression on her face, she seemed serious, in her actions and in her movements. Their eyes locked on each other for a moment, and Maleos’ gaze softened once more. Perhaps she hadn’t been able to express herself with words earlier, but her actions spoke loudly. A woman after Maleos’ own heart. He had only had words because he had been thinking about exactly what to say for days now. But the act of offering up her own blood to his God, of kneeling beside him to offer proper prayer, it was enough for Maleos.
His attentions turned back to the looming statue of Ares that stood before them as her words started. He remained silent, letting her prayers echo through the halls, hoping the stone walls would carry her words up to the God of War and would be heeded in exchange for the gift of blood that had been given, and the gift of death and blood Maleos would offer on the battlefield in the coming months.
Maleos’ eyes moved once more from the visage of his God and instead to the woman at his side as her prayer turned from the men of Colchis to just for him. The last sentence she spoke hit him deep, and if he was a weaker man he would have leaned over and kissed her right then and there. And while the temptation was there, to feel her lips upon his once more, to show his appreciation for her words, he knew now was not the appropriate place for such things.
His gaze remained on her for a moment before they returned to the face of his God, and his focus attempted to return to the prayers he would offer in the face of the war that loomed ahead of him.
“Ares, God of war, courage and strength. I ask you now for your hand to guide me in the coming war against Egypt. I offer my blood, and in exchange I pray to you to lend strength to your loyal followers, to the men of Colchis. I ask you now for a clear path to the defeat of our Egyptian enemies, and the resolve to see it done.” He started, his prayers for the most part tended to be for the good of Colchis, though every so often he had asked for strength for himself, in the end, Maleos had the good of his nation in mind with everything he did.
But with Leto at his side, he couldn’t help but feel the need to be a little bit selfish.
“I ask for your hand in seeing me safely home once more. With your guidance, fierce Ares, I will take the lives of our enemies in your name, and return once more upon the shores of my home and the arms of those I love.” He said, and with that, his prayers were done. At least the ones that he would want Leto to witness. He added more in his head before standing, words that would remain a mystery to anyone but himself and Ares, should the God choose to heed his words.
He moved to stand, holding his non-cut hand out to help Leto from her spot as well. When they were both on their feet, he moved to quietly exit the chamber and back outside, to the cliffsides where they had shared their kiss. Once outside, he moved to pull a piece of cloth off his own clothing. He hadn’t planned on her cutting her own hand, and as such he hadn’t brought anything to wrap her hand in.
He stepped forward and gently took the hand she had sliced, wrapping the clean cloth carefully around it, he tied it up tight enough that it wouldn’t fall off. She could remove it soon, it shouldn’t bleed for long.
When that task was done, he looked up from her hand and to her face once more.
“Will you allow me to write to you, after we march?” He asked softly, reaching forward, he tucked some loose hair behind her ear before his fingers gently ran across her cheek. His movements were soft and loving, those of a man who craved the intimate moment shared between them now before his life would be filled with blood and the promise of death at the end of every Egyptian’s weapon on the field of battle.
He would fill his spare moments at war with thoughts of this moment, and the one before where they had shared their kiss, and he would write to her in hopes that upon his return, her feelings would remain the same, or upon his death in the sands of Egypt, she would mourn.
He didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want these moments to end, but he knew that they were drawing to a close. He would need to return to his unit, to rest before the days of even more intense training would start, and she would need to return before anyone began to worry in her absence. If he had his way, the two would remain locked here together for the rest of their lives. Alas, fate would not have it so.
Leto felt alight as she always did when in the presence of the gods. There was something about the somber reverence of the Halls within the city that stilled her soul, bolstering a confidence she did not bear out in the world. It was the same here, but heightened. Perhaps it was the use of blood or the pain it took to get it from her hand that seemed to strengthen the way that it pulsed through her now.
The rush only heightened as she turned away from the tray that mixed her blood with Maleos' to catch his eyes a moment. There was something so solid, so reassuring that filled her in the way he looked at her. Somehow, she felt safer near him - not in the way that one would feel safe standing next to a Colchian Captain.
It was something deeper than that. It spiraled inside her, like the warmth of the summer sun on her skin, but instead blooming somewhere in her chest.
He cared for her. That in itself was not a surprise, as she glanced back on their interactions since their paths crossed - before the eyes of the gods interestingly enough. It was like something divine kept bringing them closer and closer together. It was a mystery that she had not recognize it, or perhaps she had refused to recognize it for whatever reason.
Yet, as he prayed aloud to Ares, her round, wide eyes could not turn away from his face, as if memorizing every angle and curve of it. His lashes were impossibly long she noticed, and his upper lip seemed to mirror the recurve of Artemis' bow. Her eyes trailed down the stubbling hair along his jaw, to the long tendon of his neck that disappeared beneath his tunic, which seemed to shift against the muscles of his chest with each breath he took as he spoke to the gods.
Blood immediately rushed to her cheeks as she let her eyes linger there, then trail down his arms as she very pointedly fixed them to the ground for a moment, feeling a different sort of rush and fluttering that seemed to rise up from her chest to fill her head with the fluttering of wings.
It absolutely had to be a sin to have such feelings in the midst of such a solemn moment, and her eyes blinked rapidly to regain composure, looking back to his face exclusively as he spoke his last words to the gods - the final word striking like a hammer to a bell.
Love.
That's what this had to be, this feeling in her. What else could it be? He made her feel so safe and secure and cared for, even just with a glance. He stood and it took a deep breath to break her mind of that realization as she accepted his hand to assist her from the ground.
Leto was still stunned by the naming of the feeling blossoming between them as they made it outside of the temple again, the tearing of fabric breaking her from the cloud of her thoughts - of the potentials of what would come...and the long wait that would have to take place before it could ever be realized.
It surprised her how harshly the realization that this could all end before it ever began landed. It felt like a completely separate cut to her, deeper than skin, especially as she watched the care he took in tending to the cut of her hand. Her nose flared as a stark sorrow began to plan itself in her thoughts at the thought that the man before her could be taken away to the gods.
Suddenly, Leto detested every damn thing about the war and she would swear to her dying day that the brimming shine of tears in her eyes were from her anger at the impending separation and not the preemptive worry of losing Maleos. Her eyes still looking down at the hand he tended gave her a moment for a few deep breaths through flared nostrils to keep herself together before she looked up at his question.
"Of course," she replied, putting what she hoped was an encouraging smile that was likely uneven from the emotions she struggled to process. Knowing she struggled with it, she looked away, an apologetic and sadness-tinged laugh trying to cover up her struggle, even as his hand touched her cheek so tenderly.
"I am sorry, I must seem most unstable," Leto said, hoping a touch of self-deprecation would help reset her emotions. Or, as she thought in a moment of glancing away, indulging in the way he held her cheek, she finally bolstered herself to look into his eyes. Worlds existed behind them, and they were so honest with her about how he felt. It was impossible for anything but the same to be reflected back to him. Yet, this time, she put it into words.
"It is just...now that I know what this is, what we have," she started, her voice clouding slightly with emotion. As if to hide it, she stepped in closer and her arms wrapped around his torso, her hand resting on his back and she placed her head to his chest. For a moment, she thought she could hear his heart there as well. The selfishness she felt was clear in her voice as she continued, "I do not want to lose it before it has a chance to truly begin."
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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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Leto felt alight as she always did when in the presence of the gods. There was something about the somber reverence of the Halls within the city that stilled her soul, bolstering a confidence she did not bear out in the world. It was the same here, but heightened. Perhaps it was the use of blood or the pain it took to get it from her hand that seemed to strengthen the way that it pulsed through her now.
The rush only heightened as she turned away from the tray that mixed her blood with Maleos' to catch his eyes a moment. There was something so solid, so reassuring that filled her in the way he looked at her. Somehow, she felt safer near him - not in the way that one would feel safe standing next to a Colchian Captain.
It was something deeper than that. It spiraled inside her, like the warmth of the summer sun on her skin, but instead blooming somewhere in her chest.
He cared for her. That in itself was not a surprise, as she glanced back on their interactions since their paths crossed - before the eyes of the gods interestingly enough. It was like something divine kept bringing them closer and closer together. It was a mystery that she had not recognize it, or perhaps she had refused to recognize it for whatever reason.
Yet, as he prayed aloud to Ares, her round, wide eyes could not turn away from his face, as if memorizing every angle and curve of it. His lashes were impossibly long she noticed, and his upper lip seemed to mirror the recurve of Artemis' bow. Her eyes trailed down the stubbling hair along his jaw, to the long tendon of his neck that disappeared beneath his tunic, which seemed to shift against the muscles of his chest with each breath he took as he spoke to the gods.
Blood immediately rushed to her cheeks as she let her eyes linger there, then trail down his arms as she very pointedly fixed them to the ground for a moment, feeling a different sort of rush and fluttering that seemed to rise up from her chest to fill her head with the fluttering of wings.
It absolutely had to be a sin to have such feelings in the midst of such a solemn moment, and her eyes blinked rapidly to regain composure, looking back to his face exclusively as he spoke his last words to the gods - the final word striking like a hammer to a bell.
Love.
That's what this had to be, this feeling in her. What else could it be? He made her feel so safe and secure and cared for, even just with a glance. He stood and it took a deep breath to break her mind of that realization as she accepted his hand to assist her from the ground.
Leto was still stunned by the naming of the feeling blossoming between them as they made it outside of the temple again, the tearing of fabric breaking her from the cloud of her thoughts - of the potentials of what would come...and the long wait that would have to take place before it could ever be realized.
It surprised her how harshly the realization that this could all end before it ever began landed. It felt like a completely separate cut to her, deeper than skin, especially as she watched the care he took in tending to the cut of her hand. Her nose flared as a stark sorrow began to plan itself in her thoughts at the thought that the man before her could be taken away to the gods.
Suddenly, Leto detested every damn thing about the war and she would swear to her dying day that the brimming shine of tears in her eyes were from her anger at the impending separation and not the preemptive worry of losing Maleos. Her eyes still looking down at the hand he tended gave her a moment for a few deep breaths through flared nostrils to keep herself together before she looked up at his question.
"Of course," she replied, putting what she hoped was an encouraging smile that was likely uneven from the emotions she struggled to process. Knowing she struggled with it, she looked away, an apologetic and sadness-tinged laugh trying to cover up her struggle, even as his hand touched her cheek so tenderly.
"I am sorry, I must seem most unstable," Leto said, hoping a touch of self-deprecation would help reset her emotions. Or, as she thought in a moment of glancing away, indulging in the way he held her cheek, she finally bolstered herself to look into his eyes. Worlds existed behind them, and they were so honest with her about how he felt. It was impossible for anything but the same to be reflected back to him. Yet, this time, she put it into words.
"It is just...now that I know what this is, what we have," she started, her voice clouding slightly with emotion. As if to hide it, she stepped in closer and her arms wrapped around his torso, her hand resting on his back and she placed her head to his chest. For a moment, she thought she could hear his heart there as well. The selfishness she felt was clear in her voice as she continued, "I do not want to lose it before it has a chance to truly begin."
Leto felt alight as she always did when in the presence of the gods. There was something about the somber reverence of the Halls within the city that stilled her soul, bolstering a confidence she did not bear out in the world. It was the same here, but heightened. Perhaps it was the use of blood or the pain it took to get it from her hand that seemed to strengthen the way that it pulsed through her now.
The rush only heightened as she turned away from the tray that mixed her blood with Maleos' to catch his eyes a moment. There was something so solid, so reassuring that filled her in the way he looked at her. Somehow, she felt safer near him - not in the way that one would feel safe standing next to a Colchian Captain.
It was something deeper than that. It spiraled inside her, like the warmth of the summer sun on her skin, but instead blooming somewhere in her chest.
He cared for her. That in itself was not a surprise, as she glanced back on their interactions since their paths crossed - before the eyes of the gods interestingly enough. It was like something divine kept bringing them closer and closer together. It was a mystery that she had not recognize it, or perhaps she had refused to recognize it for whatever reason.
Yet, as he prayed aloud to Ares, her round, wide eyes could not turn away from his face, as if memorizing every angle and curve of it. His lashes were impossibly long she noticed, and his upper lip seemed to mirror the recurve of Artemis' bow. Her eyes trailed down the stubbling hair along his jaw, to the long tendon of his neck that disappeared beneath his tunic, which seemed to shift against the muscles of his chest with each breath he took as he spoke to the gods.
Blood immediately rushed to her cheeks as she let her eyes linger there, then trail down his arms as she very pointedly fixed them to the ground for a moment, feeling a different sort of rush and fluttering that seemed to rise up from her chest to fill her head with the fluttering of wings.
It absolutely had to be a sin to have such feelings in the midst of such a solemn moment, and her eyes blinked rapidly to regain composure, looking back to his face exclusively as he spoke his last words to the gods - the final word striking like a hammer to a bell.
Love.
That's what this had to be, this feeling in her. What else could it be? He made her feel so safe and secure and cared for, even just with a glance. He stood and it took a deep breath to break her mind of that realization as she accepted his hand to assist her from the ground.
Leto was still stunned by the naming of the feeling blossoming between them as they made it outside of the temple again, the tearing of fabric breaking her from the cloud of her thoughts - of the potentials of what would come...and the long wait that would have to take place before it could ever be realized.
It surprised her how harshly the realization that this could all end before it ever began landed. It felt like a completely separate cut to her, deeper than skin, especially as she watched the care he took in tending to the cut of her hand. Her nose flared as a stark sorrow began to plan itself in her thoughts at the thought that the man before her could be taken away to the gods.
Suddenly, Leto detested every damn thing about the war and she would swear to her dying day that the brimming shine of tears in her eyes were from her anger at the impending separation and not the preemptive worry of losing Maleos. Her eyes still looking down at the hand he tended gave her a moment for a few deep breaths through flared nostrils to keep herself together before she looked up at his question.
"Of course," she replied, putting what she hoped was an encouraging smile that was likely uneven from the emotions she struggled to process. Knowing she struggled with it, she looked away, an apologetic and sadness-tinged laugh trying to cover up her struggle, even as his hand touched her cheek so tenderly.
"I am sorry, I must seem most unstable," Leto said, hoping a touch of self-deprecation would help reset her emotions. Or, as she thought in a moment of glancing away, indulging in the way he held her cheek, she finally bolstered herself to look into his eyes. Worlds existed behind them, and they were so honest with her about how he felt. It was impossible for anything but the same to be reflected back to him. Yet, this time, she put it into words.
"It is just...now that I know what this is, what we have," she started, her voice clouding slightly with emotion. As if to hide it, she stepped in closer and her arms wrapped around his torso, her hand resting on his back and she placed her head to his chest. For a moment, she thought she could hear his heart there as well. The selfishness she felt was clear in her voice as she continued, "I do not want to lose it before it has a chance to truly begin."
Maleos could hear and see the conflicted emotions in Leto, but he made no mention if it. If it was something she wanted to talk about, he assumed that she would talk to him about it. Perhaps she just needed a little time to process things, though there wasn’t that much time considering he would be marching onto the ships and sailing off to fight a war on foreign shores in just a few days time. She seemed to be thinking about the same thing, for her arms wrapped around him and she spoke of losing things.
His arms wrapped around her in a warm and loving embrace, holding her tightly to him without hurting her. He stood there in silence for awhile, he could not assure her that he would make it back alive. There was no guarantee of anything from this point on for Maleos and the others who sailed to war. There was never a guarantee when it came to these things. One side had to win and one side had to lose, there was no compromise. He would either kill every Egyptian he came across, or one of them would kill him. He might have had the skills to survive in the military this long, but there came a time in every warrior’s life when he would meet his end. Soldiers didn’t tend to make it to old age.
He could only do his best, try to stay focused on the war and come home. At least if he knew Leto was still waiting for him upon his return to Greece, it would give him all the more reason to fight at his very best.
“I wish I had been a braver man, one who had confessed such feelings earlier.” He said simply, perhaps if he had admitted to her how he felt, she would have admitted the same and they could have had time before any of the talk of this war had even started. But he could not change the past, all he could do was look forward.
“I will write as often as possible, and upon our victory on the sands of Egypt, I will find my way back home, back to you.” He said, giving her a little squeeze before he let go, moving to hold her at arms length, he gave her a small smile, attempting to reassure her.
“Come, let’s get you home before anyone worries.” He said, though it was very hard to drop his hands from their place on her arms. He wanted nothing more than to remain here with her, in their own world until he had to leave for war, but that was not how life worked.
“Thank you, for coming up here, for meeting me and allowing me to confess my feelings. I just could not leave for an unknown amount of time and not have you know how I felt.” He said as he set a slow pace, walking with her over to where their horses were. He paused a moment when the two of them made it to the animals, and then on a whim he decided to step forward and capture her lips in another kiss, hands resting on the small of her back as he did so.
He couldn’t resist it, for all he knew this could be the last kiss they ever shared. There were so many factors at play, so many things that were set against the two of them ever truly being together.
When the kiss broke, Maleos lingered close for just a moment longer. He then pulled away and cleared his throat.
"Travel safe. And... if you're feeling up to it, I would love nothing more than to see you before we sail." He said.
Maleos waited to make sure she mounted her horse and left just fine, and then he climbed on his own, head spinning and mind full of thoughts as he made his way back towards his barracks.
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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Maleos could hear and see the conflicted emotions in Leto, but he made no mention if it. If it was something she wanted to talk about, he assumed that she would talk to him about it. Perhaps she just needed a little time to process things, though there wasn’t that much time considering he would be marching onto the ships and sailing off to fight a war on foreign shores in just a few days time. She seemed to be thinking about the same thing, for her arms wrapped around him and she spoke of losing things.
His arms wrapped around her in a warm and loving embrace, holding her tightly to him without hurting her. He stood there in silence for awhile, he could not assure her that he would make it back alive. There was no guarantee of anything from this point on for Maleos and the others who sailed to war. There was never a guarantee when it came to these things. One side had to win and one side had to lose, there was no compromise. He would either kill every Egyptian he came across, or one of them would kill him. He might have had the skills to survive in the military this long, but there came a time in every warrior’s life when he would meet his end. Soldiers didn’t tend to make it to old age.
He could only do his best, try to stay focused on the war and come home. At least if he knew Leto was still waiting for him upon his return to Greece, it would give him all the more reason to fight at his very best.
“I wish I had been a braver man, one who had confessed such feelings earlier.” He said simply, perhaps if he had admitted to her how he felt, she would have admitted the same and they could have had time before any of the talk of this war had even started. But he could not change the past, all he could do was look forward.
“I will write as often as possible, and upon our victory on the sands of Egypt, I will find my way back home, back to you.” He said, giving her a little squeeze before he let go, moving to hold her at arms length, he gave her a small smile, attempting to reassure her.
“Come, let’s get you home before anyone worries.” He said, though it was very hard to drop his hands from their place on her arms. He wanted nothing more than to remain here with her, in their own world until he had to leave for war, but that was not how life worked.
“Thank you, for coming up here, for meeting me and allowing me to confess my feelings. I just could not leave for an unknown amount of time and not have you know how I felt.” He said as he set a slow pace, walking with her over to where their horses were. He paused a moment when the two of them made it to the animals, and then on a whim he decided to step forward and capture her lips in another kiss, hands resting on the small of her back as he did so.
He couldn’t resist it, for all he knew this could be the last kiss they ever shared. There were so many factors at play, so many things that were set against the two of them ever truly being together.
When the kiss broke, Maleos lingered close for just a moment longer. He then pulled away and cleared his throat.
"Travel safe. And... if you're feeling up to it, I would love nothing more than to see you before we sail." He said.
Maleos waited to make sure she mounted her horse and left just fine, and then he climbed on his own, head spinning and mind full of thoughts as he made his way back towards his barracks.
Maleos could hear and see the conflicted emotions in Leto, but he made no mention if it. If it was something she wanted to talk about, he assumed that she would talk to him about it. Perhaps she just needed a little time to process things, though there wasn’t that much time considering he would be marching onto the ships and sailing off to fight a war on foreign shores in just a few days time. She seemed to be thinking about the same thing, for her arms wrapped around him and she spoke of losing things.
His arms wrapped around her in a warm and loving embrace, holding her tightly to him without hurting her. He stood there in silence for awhile, he could not assure her that he would make it back alive. There was no guarantee of anything from this point on for Maleos and the others who sailed to war. There was never a guarantee when it came to these things. One side had to win and one side had to lose, there was no compromise. He would either kill every Egyptian he came across, or one of them would kill him. He might have had the skills to survive in the military this long, but there came a time in every warrior’s life when he would meet his end. Soldiers didn’t tend to make it to old age.
He could only do his best, try to stay focused on the war and come home. At least if he knew Leto was still waiting for him upon his return to Greece, it would give him all the more reason to fight at his very best.
“I wish I had been a braver man, one who had confessed such feelings earlier.” He said simply, perhaps if he had admitted to her how he felt, she would have admitted the same and they could have had time before any of the talk of this war had even started. But he could not change the past, all he could do was look forward.
“I will write as often as possible, and upon our victory on the sands of Egypt, I will find my way back home, back to you.” He said, giving her a little squeeze before he let go, moving to hold her at arms length, he gave her a small smile, attempting to reassure her.
“Come, let’s get you home before anyone worries.” He said, though it was very hard to drop his hands from their place on her arms. He wanted nothing more than to remain here with her, in their own world until he had to leave for war, but that was not how life worked.
“Thank you, for coming up here, for meeting me and allowing me to confess my feelings. I just could not leave for an unknown amount of time and not have you know how I felt.” He said as he set a slow pace, walking with her over to where their horses were. He paused a moment when the two of them made it to the animals, and then on a whim he decided to step forward and capture her lips in another kiss, hands resting on the small of her back as he did so.
He couldn’t resist it, for all he knew this could be the last kiss they ever shared. There were so many factors at play, so many things that were set against the two of them ever truly being together.
When the kiss broke, Maleos lingered close for just a moment longer. He then pulled away and cleared his throat.
"Travel safe. And... if you're feeling up to it, I would love nothing more than to see you before we sail." He said.
Maleos waited to make sure she mounted her horse and left just fine, and then he climbed on his own, head spinning and mind full of thoughts as he made his way back towards his barracks.