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After allowing Persephone the night to deal with as many of her demons as she could, Iason was up with the dawn to prepare for their trip to Chaoedia. A note had been dispatched to his father and sisters informing them of the plans so they would not be surprised when they returned from the capitol to find them gone. He was excited to return to his own province, a place that he had been wanting to feel like home for a long while. Meganea had been the place of his youth, but Chaoedia was meant for him as a baron. He had locked and packed everything up when he'd made his preparations to leave for Athenia, but now on his return it was time for it to be opened again.
This would be the place he and Persephone would raise their family, and it would be a clean slate for her to make in her own choice. Whatever she wished done to the manor would take place, and anything she desired would be provided to her so she could feel at home. Perhaps when they arrived they could even begin working on a bedroom for Emilia to stay in when she came to live with them, for in Iason's mind there was no other thing that could be done than to bring the young princess home to them. Persephone could renounce her claim, and Emilia given over to their care, and perhaps a match could be found for her that would still keep her in comfort. There were several unmarried Kotas cousins of his that could give the girl everything.
Once the horses were prepared, the baron sought out his fiancee and together they began the ride. It was a trip taken mostly in silence, Iason allowing her the time to grieve and take in all that was passing around them, pointing out few landmarks or points of interest as they rode away from Meganea's fields and in towards the mountains and forests of Chaoedia. As they drew closer his excitement grew, and a grin spread over his face as the villa came into view, on top of a hill surrounded by the trees and a few pastures with the village sprawling from the base. Sheep lifted their heads as they rode by, some bleating and some entirely unbothered by the noble's progress, and a few passing villagers raised their hands in greeting with a smile for their young baron, eyes lingering on the woman who rode with him before returning to their work. The people of the Dimitrou provinces were much like their leaders.
Iason dismounted and gave greeting as one of the young men who worked his stables came running up the path from the village, waving off his hurried apology since he hadn't given them any warning that the house would need to be reopened. The lad assured them that he would gather the rest of the staff and bring them in to prepare a supper and make the place suitable by the evening meal, and as the baron assisted his fiancee in dismounting he gave a nod of agreement before leading Persephone to the doors of the manor. His heart beat fast, from nerves to how she would find her new home he thought, opening the doors and allowing her into the courtyard within.
A fountain surrounded by various plants that were used in the kitchen and some flowers for decoration bubbled in the middle, the columns rising to the second story around the inner courtyard. Unlike Meganea, the house at Chaoedia was built around the courtyard in the center and to reach most rooms it was required to step outside. Iason preferred living in this manner, with the fresh air breathing through the home and connecting the inhabitants with nature. Allowing Persephone the chance to wander, he watched her intently before finally speaking.
"Our room is toward the back, it has a beautiful view of the valley. The living spaces are the ground floor, though really...you can do what you wish with the layout. I have rooms without much purpose that you can make your own."
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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After allowing Persephone the night to deal with as many of her demons as she could, Iason was up with the dawn to prepare for their trip to Chaoedia. A note had been dispatched to his father and sisters informing them of the plans so they would not be surprised when they returned from the capitol to find them gone. He was excited to return to his own province, a place that he had been wanting to feel like home for a long while. Meganea had been the place of his youth, but Chaoedia was meant for him as a baron. He had locked and packed everything up when he'd made his preparations to leave for Athenia, but now on his return it was time for it to be opened again.
This would be the place he and Persephone would raise their family, and it would be a clean slate for her to make in her own choice. Whatever she wished done to the manor would take place, and anything she desired would be provided to her so she could feel at home. Perhaps when they arrived they could even begin working on a bedroom for Emilia to stay in when she came to live with them, for in Iason's mind there was no other thing that could be done than to bring the young princess home to them. Persephone could renounce her claim, and Emilia given over to their care, and perhaps a match could be found for her that would still keep her in comfort. There were several unmarried Kotas cousins of his that could give the girl everything.
Once the horses were prepared, the baron sought out his fiancee and together they began the ride. It was a trip taken mostly in silence, Iason allowing her the time to grieve and take in all that was passing around them, pointing out few landmarks or points of interest as they rode away from Meganea's fields and in towards the mountains and forests of Chaoedia. As they drew closer his excitement grew, and a grin spread over his face as the villa came into view, on top of a hill surrounded by the trees and a few pastures with the village sprawling from the base. Sheep lifted their heads as they rode by, some bleating and some entirely unbothered by the noble's progress, and a few passing villagers raised their hands in greeting with a smile for their young baron, eyes lingering on the woman who rode with him before returning to their work. The people of the Dimitrou provinces were much like their leaders.
Iason dismounted and gave greeting as one of the young men who worked his stables came running up the path from the village, waving off his hurried apology since he hadn't given them any warning that the house would need to be reopened. The lad assured them that he would gather the rest of the staff and bring them in to prepare a supper and make the place suitable by the evening meal, and as the baron assisted his fiancee in dismounting he gave a nod of agreement before leading Persephone to the doors of the manor. His heart beat fast, from nerves to how she would find her new home he thought, opening the doors and allowing her into the courtyard within.
A fountain surrounded by various plants that were used in the kitchen and some flowers for decoration bubbled in the middle, the columns rising to the second story around the inner courtyard. Unlike Meganea, the house at Chaoedia was built around the courtyard in the center and to reach most rooms it was required to step outside. Iason preferred living in this manner, with the fresh air breathing through the home and connecting the inhabitants with nature. Allowing Persephone the chance to wander, he watched her intently before finally speaking.
"Our room is toward the back, it has a beautiful view of the valley. The living spaces are the ground floor, though really...you can do what you wish with the layout. I have rooms without much purpose that you can make your own."
After allowing Persephone the night to deal with as many of her demons as she could, Iason was up with the dawn to prepare for their trip to Chaoedia. A note had been dispatched to his father and sisters informing them of the plans so they would not be surprised when they returned from the capitol to find them gone. He was excited to return to his own province, a place that he had been wanting to feel like home for a long while. Meganea had been the place of his youth, but Chaoedia was meant for him as a baron. He had locked and packed everything up when he'd made his preparations to leave for Athenia, but now on his return it was time for it to be opened again.
This would be the place he and Persephone would raise their family, and it would be a clean slate for her to make in her own choice. Whatever she wished done to the manor would take place, and anything she desired would be provided to her so she could feel at home. Perhaps when they arrived they could even begin working on a bedroom for Emilia to stay in when she came to live with them, for in Iason's mind there was no other thing that could be done than to bring the young princess home to them. Persephone could renounce her claim, and Emilia given over to their care, and perhaps a match could be found for her that would still keep her in comfort. There were several unmarried Kotas cousins of his that could give the girl everything.
Once the horses were prepared, the baron sought out his fiancee and together they began the ride. It was a trip taken mostly in silence, Iason allowing her the time to grieve and take in all that was passing around them, pointing out few landmarks or points of interest as they rode away from Meganea's fields and in towards the mountains and forests of Chaoedia. As they drew closer his excitement grew, and a grin spread over his face as the villa came into view, on top of a hill surrounded by the trees and a few pastures with the village sprawling from the base. Sheep lifted their heads as they rode by, some bleating and some entirely unbothered by the noble's progress, and a few passing villagers raised their hands in greeting with a smile for their young baron, eyes lingering on the woman who rode with him before returning to their work. The people of the Dimitrou provinces were much like their leaders.
Iason dismounted and gave greeting as one of the young men who worked his stables came running up the path from the village, waving off his hurried apology since he hadn't given them any warning that the house would need to be reopened. The lad assured them that he would gather the rest of the staff and bring them in to prepare a supper and make the place suitable by the evening meal, and as the baron assisted his fiancee in dismounting he gave a nod of agreement before leading Persephone to the doors of the manor. His heart beat fast, from nerves to how she would find her new home he thought, opening the doors and allowing her into the courtyard within.
A fountain surrounded by various plants that were used in the kitchen and some flowers for decoration bubbled in the middle, the columns rising to the second story around the inner courtyard. Unlike Meganea, the house at Chaoedia was built around the courtyard in the center and to reach most rooms it was required to step outside. Iason preferred living in this manner, with the fresh air breathing through the home and connecting the inhabitants with nature. Allowing Persephone the chance to wander, he watched her intently before finally speaking.
"Our room is toward the back, it has a beautiful view of the valley. The living spaces are the ground floor, though really...you can do what you wish with the layout. I have rooms without much purpose that you can make your own."
This had been a mistake.
Every step of the morning had been telling her so but Persephone had been determined to follow through with her plan.
It had started with a horrendous night's sleep. Images of her sister in jeopardy or being manipulated had haunted her until the earliest morning light had begun to creep into the room. Only then had sheer exhaustion claimed her for a few hours before a maid had disturbed her, insisting that Lord Iason was ready to depart. In the haste of trying to get her ready, the maid in question was a little flustered and despite her own calming words of assurance, she was stuck in the scalp with pins and nails more than a few times. A bad omen, perhaps?
Then, when she had been able to join Iason, apologising for the delay, her hair finally braided and wrapped in a lattice effect across her head, to secure it from the wind of the journey, she had been encouraged by the fact that he had had only one horse prepared, clearly relishing the opportunity of closeness on the ride to Chaoedia. This had, in the moment, felt like a balm of compassion over her raw nerves but quickly proved to be another miscalculation on her part...
She had decided to return to Athenia. That had been her choice in the moment she had read Aimias’s letter and had been cemented in the night. She would return to Athenia, find Emilia, take her as her ward and live with her sister in some quite little place in their homeland. Away from politics, away from danger. Protected and looked after. The thought that that could be accomplished in Taengea had never entered her mind for a single reason birthing two symptomatic thoughts.
Persephone had a pathological need to be perfect and to manage and control her own life in the service of others.
Which meant that asking for an additional allowance on Iason's part - to accept wardship of Emilia as well as herself as his wife - was a seeking of aid she instinctively removed from her thoughts. In the same way she removed any consideration of asking Emilia to make just such a change and consent to leave her homeland. Neither became even tangible or valid thoughts in her mind and therefore Persephone's instinctive answer was the only one that practically made sense. That she would return to Athenia and look after Emilia, likely alone; as she would never ask Iason to come with her and leave behind his world either. It was too cruel; too selfish. It had been permissible when she had had something to offer him in her position as Princess and potential Queen. Not when she had nothing.
It never occurred to her that she herself might simply be enough.
With such a decision made, Persephone was determined to witness and realise what it was she was leaving behind. She was a woman of intellect and careful consideration and she would be plagued with thoughts of other futures and other potentials if she did not at least see the lands that she was denying herself to be baroness of.
What she hadn't counted on was how much her heart wanted what she was about to witness. And how painful it felt to know she was already determined not to accept it.
The first, was Iason himself. In a single saddle, her back to his front, his arms wrapping around her as he held onto the reins and steered them towards his home. As had happened the day before, she felt herself become hyper sensitive to his presence. His arms brushing against her sides, his thighs occasionally touching the back of hers. His chest brushed at her back over and over as the motion of the horse had each of them swaying in rhythm.
For a while, Persephone closed her eyes, hoping that she could block out the sensations and the way they had her heart pounding in her chest. But she quickly worked out that the removal of one sense only had the others heightening and it became ten times worse. She swallowed and opened her eyes once more, training her gaze on the horizon ahead of them and using every fibre of her being to resist leaning back into Iason's broad chest and soaking in his warmth and the shooting sparks of tension he sent through her nerves and bloodstream.
As they journeyed, Iason made comment on certain elements; significant landmarks or places he knew from childhood and wished to share. Persephone was careful to smile when she spoke so that her voice was offered with a lilt of optimism rather than the growing dread she felt in the pit of her stomach. She responded with genuine comments and responses but never encouraged conversation to break out.
She already knew that she liked Iason's intellect and conversation. She didn't need to be reminded of that, as well as the physical reaction he inspired beneath her skin.
Persephone knew the instant the horse stepped over the invisible line that identified the lands of Chaoedia. There was a shift in the man behind her. A deep inhale and slow exhale, a relaxing of his muscles... they were the natural reactions of a man who had come home. And this time Persephone did genuinely smile, happy that Iason was so content in that moment.
The people of Chaoedia were friendlier than she had expected and, initially surprised that they smiled and waved to their leader and baron as if he were their friend rather than their master, Persephone was quick to adjust and offered a sweet and demure expression of kindness, her hand raising to wave a little - especially at the children she saw hanging about their parents as they worked the fields.
The land itself was another mistake to witness.
It was glorious.
Sweeping, roaming lands of green and gold, with an intensely lush and vibrant woodland running along its north and west perimeter, the lands tended by Iason were - unsurprisingly - full of life, growth and warmth.
Used to the sea breezes and the salty tang of the ocean, Persephone breathed in to smell woodland, earth, fresh flora and a scent she could only attribute as simply sunshine. She felt it in her nose, on her tongue, seeping into her skin. As if the very land itself were trying to seduce her with its perfection. With its homey feel of family and opulent virility. Stay… it called to her.
Feeling her heart crack a little that this would not become her permanent home, Persephone turned her gaze to the road rather than the beautiful sights in every other direction and only looked up when the horses' hooves were clicking along a different texture, the timbre of his steps changing as they entered the area given to the personal residence of the baron.
The manor was two storeys, with large windows on both levels and little else to recommend it. But, given that it was facing due east, it was expected that the builders had not made great use of this side of the property. Instead, there was an open courtyard that clearly led around to stables on one side and open grassland on the other that then trailed into some private woodland and - she suspected - hunting grounds for the house.
Accepting Iason's aid in dismounting and then his hand as he took her towards his home, his expression one of an eager child intent on showing something of his ownership or creation that he was proud of, Persephone felt a bubble of anticipation spark in her check, his enthusiasm contagious. With a soft and shy smile of her own, she followed Iason through a large archway in the centre of the ground floor and through to what she now realised was the true 'front' of the house. And could not restrict the gasp of awe at its loveliness.
A second courtyard, square and surrounded on all sides by the rest of the estate, stood as a shy centre to a powerful building. With a simple fountain at its middle, offering streams of purest water glistening like silver, and more plant life surrounding its circumference, the central courtyard took all the best elements of the outside world and funnelled them down and through the house. The sunshine refracted off the trickling water and sent dancing lights over the columns on every side, the herbs and flowers brought greenery, and the open space encouraged the warm air to breeze its way between and around columns and into the rooms beyond.
From her position, she spied a solar room in light colours of white, blues and greens, another on the opposite side clearly meant for more private reading, with warmer, richer tones. Some of the chambers that she could see were empty but the ones that were within her view had that ball of dreaded grief turning to granite in the pit of her stomach.
She felt the urge to cry but resisted it, keeping her face calm as she had been trained to do for so many years. She hated that she was using such a technique now to hide something so guttural and instinctive: the simple joy that Iason's home was wonderful. And, whilst very different to the palace she had grown up in and only ever known to be her home, was somewhere that she could very much imagine herself living in forever.
Letting go of Iason's hand and turning as she looked up and around at the beautiful space, she was distracted a little when he spoke...
'make her own...'
Yes, that was what she wanted to do to this place. Make it her own. She wanted to claim it. So badly she thought her palms might itch with the desire. She wanted to live here. As a baroness. As Iason's wife.
Swallowing, she ventured forward, taking a corridor that led to other rooms and towards the back of the house, hearing Iason as he wandered with her.
At the rear, the building was similar to its front barring two open terrace and balcony. On both the ground and second floor there was an open space for sitting and enjoying the sunshine and gardens that stretched out beyond to the south.
Suddenly, and with all the clarity as if she were there in the moment living it, Persephone could envision in her mind’s eye, Iason approaching from over the gardens. He would be leaving the woodland, walking over the grassy lawns with the victories of his hunt thrown over one shoulder. The image was practically savage compared to the cool and clear aesthetics of Athenia but Persephone could not help but find it highly alluring. Even more so when her fanciful mind painted herself into the picture: standing where she did now upon the open terrace, a smile at his return on her face and her hand upon a soft swell of her belly that housed their young.
She could imagine it so clearly that the crack that had started in her heart splintered further and with a simple touch as Iason - the real Iason - came to embrace her from behind, his arms wrapping around her middle, it shattered entirely and Persephone closed her eyes against the pain.
Given that she had been silent since their arrival - barring a sharp gasp upon entry to that courtyard - Persephone knew that he would be expecting her to say something, eager for her reaction to the home he clearly loved so much.
Even with half the rooms' furniture covered in sheets or boxed into chests, sealed up and packed away for their master's journey to Athenia, she could see the thought and care he had put into the place. The fact that the lands were well tended, the fact that the house smelt of air and cleanliness, not mould or disrepair. The fact that he clearly loved the home so much that he wasn't willing to just fill the remaining rooms with things or decorate them because it was to be expected; he clearly wanted to do something meaningful with them, create a purpose for them when it was needed.
He took such pride in all of this that she had to say something.
She opened her mouth but little came out. What was she supposed to say? Clearly Iason thought this to be their homecoming. He had neither considered nor feared that she would be leaving on a single-way voyage to Athenia to be with her sister. She was about to take everything he had ever given her: his time, his trust, his home, his family... his heart. The list was never ending. And she was about to take all of it and reject it. Turn her back on it.
Despite it being everything that she had never known she wanted...
"It's..." She tried to find the right words, her hands resting gingerly and guiltily over the forearms he had wrapped around her middle. "It is pure paradise, Iason." She said, finally settling on the truth. "A haven in every sense of the word." She swallowed, her eyes stinging and her gut wrenching but she had to be fair to the man and be as honest as he had been with her. "Thank you for bringing me here. I needed to see it or forever wonder..." There was a pause as she considered her wording. Glad that he stood behind her where she did not have to witness his expression, she took the bull by its horns… "Iason, I need to return to Athenia. I will find Emilia. Become her ward. Set us up somewhere, where Emilia can continue to grow in her homeland." She swallowed again. "I cannot be selfish. I need to live and plan for her now."
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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This had been a mistake.
Every step of the morning had been telling her so but Persephone had been determined to follow through with her plan.
It had started with a horrendous night's sleep. Images of her sister in jeopardy or being manipulated had haunted her until the earliest morning light had begun to creep into the room. Only then had sheer exhaustion claimed her for a few hours before a maid had disturbed her, insisting that Lord Iason was ready to depart. In the haste of trying to get her ready, the maid in question was a little flustered and despite her own calming words of assurance, she was stuck in the scalp with pins and nails more than a few times. A bad omen, perhaps?
Then, when she had been able to join Iason, apologising for the delay, her hair finally braided and wrapped in a lattice effect across her head, to secure it from the wind of the journey, she had been encouraged by the fact that he had had only one horse prepared, clearly relishing the opportunity of closeness on the ride to Chaoedia. This had, in the moment, felt like a balm of compassion over her raw nerves but quickly proved to be another miscalculation on her part...
She had decided to return to Athenia. That had been her choice in the moment she had read Aimias’s letter and had been cemented in the night. She would return to Athenia, find Emilia, take her as her ward and live with her sister in some quite little place in their homeland. Away from politics, away from danger. Protected and looked after. The thought that that could be accomplished in Taengea had never entered her mind for a single reason birthing two symptomatic thoughts.
Persephone had a pathological need to be perfect and to manage and control her own life in the service of others.
Which meant that asking for an additional allowance on Iason's part - to accept wardship of Emilia as well as herself as his wife - was a seeking of aid she instinctively removed from her thoughts. In the same way she removed any consideration of asking Emilia to make just such a change and consent to leave her homeland. Neither became even tangible or valid thoughts in her mind and therefore Persephone's instinctive answer was the only one that practically made sense. That she would return to Athenia and look after Emilia, likely alone; as she would never ask Iason to come with her and leave behind his world either. It was too cruel; too selfish. It had been permissible when she had had something to offer him in her position as Princess and potential Queen. Not when she had nothing.
It never occurred to her that she herself might simply be enough.
With such a decision made, Persephone was determined to witness and realise what it was she was leaving behind. She was a woman of intellect and careful consideration and she would be plagued with thoughts of other futures and other potentials if she did not at least see the lands that she was denying herself to be baroness of.
What she hadn't counted on was how much her heart wanted what she was about to witness. And how painful it felt to know she was already determined not to accept it.
The first, was Iason himself. In a single saddle, her back to his front, his arms wrapping around her as he held onto the reins and steered them towards his home. As had happened the day before, she felt herself become hyper sensitive to his presence. His arms brushing against her sides, his thighs occasionally touching the back of hers. His chest brushed at her back over and over as the motion of the horse had each of them swaying in rhythm.
For a while, Persephone closed her eyes, hoping that she could block out the sensations and the way they had her heart pounding in her chest. But she quickly worked out that the removal of one sense only had the others heightening and it became ten times worse. She swallowed and opened her eyes once more, training her gaze on the horizon ahead of them and using every fibre of her being to resist leaning back into Iason's broad chest and soaking in his warmth and the shooting sparks of tension he sent through her nerves and bloodstream.
As they journeyed, Iason made comment on certain elements; significant landmarks or places he knew from childhood and wished to share. Persephone was careful to smile when she spoke so that her voice was offered with a lilt of optimism rather than the growing dread she felt in the pit of her stomach. She responded with genuine comments and responses but never encouraged conversation to break out.
She already knew that she liked Iason's intellect and conversation. She didn't need to be reminded of that, as well as the physical reaction he inspired beneath her skin.
Persephone knew the instant the horse stepped over the invisible line that identified the lands of Chaoedia. There was a shift in the man behind her. A deep inhale and slow exhale, a relaxing of his muscles... they were the natural reactions of a man who had come home. And this time Persephone did genuinely smile, happy that Iason was so content in that moment.
The people of Chaoedia were friendlier than she had expected and, initially surprised that they smiled and waved to their leader and baron as if he were their friend rather than their master, Persephone was quick to adjust and offered a sweet and demure expression of kindness, her hand raising to wave a little - especially at the children she saw hanging about their parents as they worked the fields.
The land itself was another mistake to witness.
It was glorious.
Sweeping, roaming lands of green and gold, with an intensely lush and vibrant woodland running along its north and west perimeter, the lands tended by Iason were - unsurprisingly - full of life, growth and warmth.
Used to the sea breezes and the salty tang of the ocean, Persephone breathed in to smell woodland, earth, fresh flora and a scent she could only attribute as simply sunshine. She felt it in her nose, on her tongue, seeping into her skin. As if the very land itself were trying to seduce her with its perfection. With its homey feel of family and opulent virility. Stay… it called to her.
Feeling her heart crack a little that this would not become her permanent home, Persephone turned her gaze to the road rather than the beautiful sights in every other direction and only looked up when the horses' hooves were clicking along a different texture, the timbre of his steps changing as they entered the area given to the personal residence of the baron.
The manor was two storeys, with large windows on both levels and little else to recommend it. But, given that it was facing due east, it was expected that the builders had not made great use of this side of the property. Instead, there was an open courtyard that clearly led around to stables on one side and open grassland on the other that then trailed into some private woodland and - she suspected - hunting grounds for the house.
Accepting Iason's aid in dismounting and then his hand as he took her towards his home, his expression one of an eager child intent on showing something of his ownership or creation that he was proud of, Persephone felt a bubble of anticipation spark in her check, his enthusiasm contagious. With a soft and shy smile of her own, she followed Iason through a large archway in the centre of the ground floor and through to what she now realised was the true 'front' of the house. And could not restrict the gasp of awe at its loveliness.
A second courtyard, square and surrounded on all sides by the rest of the estate, stood as a shy centre to a powerful building. With a simple fountain at its middle, offering streams of purest water glistening like silver, and more plant life surrounding its circumference, the central courtyard took all the best elements of the outside world and funnelled them down and through the house. The sunshine refracted off the trickling water and sent dancing lights over the columns on every side, the herbs and flowers brought greenery, and the open space encouraged the warm air to breeze its way between and around columns and into the rooms beyond.
From her position, she spied a solar room in light colours of white, blues and greens, another on the opposite side clearly meant for more private reading, with warmer, richer tones. Some of the chambers that she could see were empty but the ones that were within her view had that ball of dreaded grief turning to granite in the pit of her stomach.
She felt the urge to cry but resisted it, keeping her face calm as she had been trained to do for so many years. She hated that she was using such a technique now to hide something so guttural and instinctive: the simple joy that Iason's home was wonderful. And, whilst very different to the palace she had grown up in and only ever known to be her home, was somewhere that she could very much imagine herself living in forever.
Letting go of Iason's hand and turning as she looked up and around at the beautiful space, she was distracted a little when he spoke...
'make her own...'
Yes, that was what she wanted to do to this place. Make it her own. She wanted to claim it. So badly she thought her palms might itch with the desire. She wanted to live here. As a baroness. As Iason's wife.
Swallowing, she ventured forward, taking a corridor that led to other rooms and towards the back of the house, hearing Iason as he wandered with her.
At the rear, the building was similar to its front barring two open terrace and balcony. On both the ground and second floor there was an open space for sitting and enjoying the sunshine and gardens that stretched out beyond to the south.
Suddenly, and with all the clarity as if she were there in the moment living it, Persephone could envision in her mind’s eye, Iason approaching from over the gardens. He would be leaving the woodland, walking over the grassy lawns with the victories of his hunt thrown over one shoulder. The image was practically savage compared to the cool and clear aesthetics of Athenia but Persephone could not help but find it highly alluring. Even more so when her fanciful mind painted herself into the picture: standing where she did now upon the open terrace, a smile at his return on her face and her hand upon a soft swell of her belly that housed their young.
She could imagine it so clearly that the crack that had started in her heart splintered further and with a simple touch as Iason - the real Iason - came to embrace her from behind, his arms wrapping around her middle, it shattered entirely and Persephone closed her eyes against the pain.
Given that she had been silent since their arrival - barring a sharp gasp upon entry to that courtyard - Persephone knew that he would be expecting her to say something, eager for her reaction to the home he clearly loved so much.
Even with half the rooms' furniture covered in sheets or boxed into chests, sealed up and packed away for their master's journey to Athenia, she could see the thought and care he had put into the place. The fact that the lands were well tended, the fact that the house smelt of air and cleanliness, not mould or disrepair. The fact that he clearly loved the home so much that he wasn't willing to just fill the remaining rooms with things or decorate them because it was to be expected; he clearly wanted to do something meaningful with them, create a purpose for them when it was needed.
He took such pride in all of this that she had to say something.
She opened her mouth but little came out. What was she supposed to say? Clearly Iason thought this to be their homecoming. He had neither considered nor feared that she would be leaving on a single-way voyage to Athenia to be with her sister. She was about to take everything he had ever given her: his time, his trust, his home, his family... his heart. The list was never ending. And she was about to take all of it and reject it. Turn her back on it.
Despite it being everything that she had never known she wanted...
"It's..." She tried to find the right words, her hands resting gingerly and guiltily over the forearms he had wrapped around her middle. "It is pure paradise, Iason." She said, finally settling on the truth. "A haven in every sense of the word." She swallowed, her eyes stinging and her gut wrenching but she had to be fair to the man and be as honest as he had been with her. "Thank you for bringing me here. I needed to see it or forever wonder..." There was a pause as she considered her wording. Glad that he stood behind her where she did not have to witness his expression, she took the bull by its horns… "Iason, I need to return to Athenia. I will find Emilia. Become her ward. Set us up somewhere, where Emilia can continue to grow in her homeland." She swallowed again. "I cannot be selfish. I need to live and plan for her now."
This had been a mistake.
Every step of the morning had been telling her so but Persephone had been determined to follow through with her plan.
It had started with a horrendous night's sleep. Images of her sister in jeopardy or being manipulated had haunted her until the earliest morning light had begun to creep into the room. Only then had sheer exhaustion claimed her for a few hours before a maid had disturbed her, insisting that Lord Iason was ready to depart. In the haste of trying to get her ready, the maid in question was a little flustered and despite her own calming words of assurance, she was stuck in the scalp with pins and nails more than a few times. A bad omen, perhaps?
Then, when she had been able to join Iason, apologising for the delay, her hair finally braided and wrapped in a lattice effect across her head, to secure it from the wind of the journey, she had been encouraged by the fact that he had had only one horse prepared, clearly relishing the opportunity of closeness on the ride to Chaoedia. This had, in the moment, felt like a balm of compassion over her raw nerves but quickly proved to be another miscalculation on her part...
She had decided to return to Athenia. That had been her choice in the moment she had read Aimias’s letter and had been cemented in the night. She would return to Athenia, find Emilia, take her as her ward and live with her sister in some quite little place in their homeland. Away from politics, away from danger. Protected and looked after. The thought that that could be accomplished in Taengea had never entered her mind for a single reason birthing two symptomatic thoughts.
Persephone had a pathological need to be perfect and to manage and control her own life in the service of others.
Which meant that asking for an additional allowance on Iason's part - to accept wardship of Emilia as well as herself as his wife - was a seeking of aid she instinctively removed from her thoughts. In the same way she removed any consideration of asking Emilia to make just such a change and consent to leave her homeland. Neither became even tangible or valid thoughts in her mind and therefore Persephone's instinctive answer was the only one that practically made sense. That she would return to Athenia and look after Emilia, likely alone; as she would never ask Iason to come with her and leave behind his world either. It was too cruel; too selfish. It had been permissible when she had had something to offer him in her position as Princess and potential Queen. Not when she had nothing.
It never occurred to her that she herself might simply be enough.
With such a decision made, Persephone was determined to witness and realise what it was she was leaving behind. She was a woman of intellect and careful consideration and she would be plagued with thoughts of other futures and other potentials if she did not at least see the lands that she was denying herself to be baroness of.
What she hadn't counted on was how much her heart wanted what she was about to witness. And how painful it felt to know she was already determined not to accept it.
The first, was Iason himself. In a single saddle, her back to his front, his arms wrapping around her as he held onto the reins and steered them towards his home. As had happened the day before, she felt herself become hyper sensitive to his presence. His arms brushing against her sides, his thighs occasionally touching the back of hers. His chest brushed at her back over and over as the motion of the horse had each of them swaying in rhythm.
For a while, Persephone closed her eyes, hoping that she could block out the sensations and the way they had her heart pounding in her chest. But she quickly worked out that the removal of one sense only had the others heightening and it became ten times worse. She swallowed and opened her eyes once more, training her gaze on the horizon ahead of them and using every fibre of her being to resist leaning back into Iason's broad chest and soaking in his warmth and the shooting sparks of tension he sent through her nerves and bloodstream.
As they journeyed, Iason made comment on certain elements; significant landmarks or places he knew from childhood and wished to share. Persephone was careful to smile when she spoke so that her voice was offered with a lilt of optimism rather than the growing dread she felt in the pit of her stomach. She responded with genuine comments and responses but never encouraged conversation to break out.
She already knew that she liked Iason's intellect and conversation. She didn't need to be reminded of that, as well as the physical reaction he inspired beneath her skin.
Persephone knew the instant the horse stepped over the invisible line that identified the lands of Chaoedia. There was a shift in the man behind her. A deep inhale and slow exhale, a relaxing of his muscles... they were the natural reactions of a man who had come home. And this time Persephone did genuinely smile, happy that Iason was so content in that moment.
The people of Chaoedia were friendlier than she had expected and, initially surprised that they smiled and waved to their leader and baron as if he were their friend rather than their master, Persephone was quick to adjust and offered a sweet and demure expression of kindness, her hand raising to wave a little - especially at the children she saw hanging about their parents as they worked the fields.
The land itself was another mistake to witness.
It was glorious.
Sweeping, roaming lands of green and gold, with an intensely lush and vibrant woodland running along its north and west perimeter, the lands tended by Iason were - unsurprisingly - full of life, growth and warmth.
Used to the sea breezes and the salty tang of the ocean, Persephone breathed in to smell woodland, earth, fresh flora and a scent she could only attribute as simply sunshine. She felt it in her nose, on her tongue, seeping into her skin. As if the very land itself were trying to seduce her with its perfection. With its homey feel of family and opulent virility. Stay… it called to her.
Feeling her heart crack a little that this would not become her permanent home, Persephone turned her gaze to the road rather than the beautiful sights in every other direction and only looked up when the horses' hooves were clicking along a different texture, the timbre of his steps changing as they entered the area given to the personal residence of the baron.
The manor was two storeys, with large windows on both levels and little else to recommend it. But, given that it was facing due east, it was expected that the builders had not made great use of this side of the property. Instead, there was an open courtyard that clearly led around to stables on one side and open grassland on the other that then trailed into some private woodland and - she suspected - hunting grounds for the house.
Accepting Iason's aid in dismounting and then his hand as he took her towards his home, his expression one of an eager child intent on showing something of his ownership or creation that he was proud of, Persephone felt a bubble of anticipation spark in her check, his enthusiasm contagious. With a soft and shy smile of her own, she followed Iason through a large archway in the centre of the ground floor and through to what she now realised was the true 'front' of the house. And could not restrict the gasp of awe at its loveliness.
A second courtyard, square and surrounded on all sides by the rest of the estate, stood as a shy centre to a powerful building. With a simple fountain at its middle, offering streams of purest water glistening like silver, and more plant life surrounding its circumference, the central courtyard took all the best elements of the outside world and funnelled them down and through the house. The sunshine refracted off the trickling water and sent dancing lights over the columns on every side, the herbs and flowers brought greenery, and the open space encouraged the warm air to breeze its way between and around columns and into the rooms beyond.
From her position, she spied a solar room in light colours of white, blues and greens, another on the opposite side clearly meant for more private reading, with warmer, richer tones. Some of the chambers that she could see were empty but the ones that were within her view had that ball of dreaded grief turning to granite in the pit of her stomach.
She felt the urge to cry but resisted it, keeping her face calm as she had been trained to do for so many years. She hated that she was using such a technique now to hide something so guttural and instinctive: the simple joy that Iason's home was wonderful. And, whilst very different to the palace she had grown up in and only ever known to be her home, was somewhere that she could very much imagine herself living in forever.
Letting go of Iason's hand and turning as she looked up and around at the beautiful space, she was distracted a little when he spoke...
'make her own...'
Yes, that was what she wanted to do to this place. Make it her own. She wanted to claim it. So badly she thought her palms might itch with the desire. She wanted to live here. As a baroness. As Iason's wife.
Swallowing, she ventured forward, taking a corridor that led to other rooms and towards the back of the house, hearing Iason as he wandered with her.
At the rear, the building was similar to its front barring two open terrace and balcony. On both the ground and second floor there was an open space for sitting and enjoying the sunshine and gardens that stretched out beyond to the south.
Suddenly, and with all the clarity as if she were there in the moment living it, Persephone could envision in her mind’s eye, Iason approaching from over the gardens. He would be leaving the woodland, walking over the grassy lawns with the victories of his hunt thrown over one shoulder. The image was practically savage compared to the cool and clear aesthetics of Athenia but Persephone could not help but find it highly alluring. Even more so when her fanciful mind painted herself into the picture: standing where she did now upon the open terrace, a smile at his return on her face and her hand upon a soft swell of her belly that housed their young.
She could imagine it so clearly that the crack that had started in her heart splintered further and with a simple touch as Iason - the real Iason - came to embrace her from behind, his arms wrapping around her middle, it shattered entirely and Persephone closed her eyes against the pain.
Given that she had been silent since their arrival - barring a sharp gasp upon entry to that courtyard - Persephone knew that he would be expecting her to say something, eager for her reaction to the home he clearly loved so much.
Even with half the rooms' furniture covered in sheets or boxed into chests, sealed up and packed away for their master's journey to Athenia, she could see the thought and care he had put into the place. The fact that the lands were well tended, the fact that the house smelt of air and cleanliness, not mould or disrepair. The fact that he clearly loved the home so much that he wasn't willing to just fill the remaining rooms with things or decorate them because it was to be expected; he clearly wanted to do something meaningful with them, create a purpose for them when it was needed.
He took such pride in all of this that she had to say something.
She opened her mouth but little came out. What was she supposed to say? Clearly Iason thought this to be their homecoming. He had neither considered nor feared that she would be leaving on a single-way voyage to Athenia to be with her sister. She was about to take everything he had ever given her: his time, his trust, his home, his family... his heart. The list was never ending. And she was about to take all of it and reject it. Turn her back on it.
Despite it being everything that she had never known she wanted...
"It's..." She tried to find the right words, her hands resting gingerly and guiltily over the forearms he had wrapped around her middle. "It is pure paradise, Iason." She said, finally settling on the truth. "A haven in every sense of the word." She swallowed, her eyes stinging and her gut wrenching but she had to be fair to the man and be as honest as he had been with her. "Thank you for bringing me here. I needed to see it or forever wonder..." There was a pause as she considered her wording. Glad that he stood behind her where she did not have to witness his expression, she took the bull by its horns… "Iason, I need to return to Athenia. I will find Emilia. Become her ward. Set us up somewhere, where Emilia can continue to grow in her homeland." She swallowed again. "I cannot be selfish. I need to live and plan for her now."
Iason's eyes followed her intently as she wandered, waiting for her reaction as she inspected the home that would be hers. It wasn't the palace she had grown up in, and it wasn't even his father's home that was so comfortable and easy to be in, and he wondered if she would be happy with what it was. He had the capability to build, if she wanted something grander or different, he would gladly do what it took to make her content.
He lingered by the fountain until she stepped through to the balcony, trailing his fingers through the water and remembering a song his mother hummed when she did the same. It was a dream, a fantasy of sorts, for him to wonder how they might have gotten on. They were from the opposite worlds, his mother had risen in her marriage to a baron and Persephone was giving up much to be his wife, but they both had a strength to them that he wished he'd gotten to know better in his mother before her death.
The silence stretching between them made his heart beat faster with fear that she was disappointed, and as he stepped behind her his arms slid around her waist, holding her close as he waited. Even though they'd been close on the ride over, he hadn't gotten the chance to embrace her properly and after the myriad emotions of the day before he could only imagine how she was feeling. To hear that her sister was alive had been a relief for him, but she hadn't seemed to feel that way. Perhaps the guilt would fade with time. It would be easy enough as far as he could tell to get Emilia to Taengea. Certainly Elias would be willing to let her go, especially if they renounced their claim to the throne.
When his betrothed finally spoke he couldn't hide his grin at her assessment, dropping a kiss to her shoulder and gently brushing the stubble of his chin against the material of her himation. Iason had been about to suggest they pick a room for Emilia so it could be prepared by the time she arrived from Athenia when Persephone continued and it suddenly felt as if he had been shot from behind with one of his own arrows. Frozen for a moment, he wasn't sure how to respond. She couldn't be selfish? What was more selfish than leaving after everything he had done, as if everything they had said and done was nothing. He understood the devotion to her sister, but there were so many simple ways around it and she had chosen the one thing that could hurt him most.
"Why not bring her here?"
Releasing her, he took a step back and looked over her shoulder at the green of his lands, wondering what he could have done differently. His suggestion sounded simple, far easier said than done, but it wasn't impossible. If she wanted to leave, he would give her what she needed to go.
"She would be good friends with Dorothea, and Alexa. We could give her safety, a home. And don't. Don't say I've done too much, or it would be a burden. Because you aren't. And she wouldn't be. If we marry she would be family."
It was a desperate attempt, and he knew it, but he couldn't let her go without trying.
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Iason's eyes followed her intently as she wandered, waiting for her reaction as she inspected the home that would be hers. It wasn't the palace she had grown up in, and it wasn't even his father's home that was so comfortable and easy to be in, and he wondered if she would be happy with what it was. He had the capability to build, if she wanted something grander or different, he would gladly do what it took to make her content.
He lingered by the fountain until she stepped through to the balcony, trailing his fingers through the water and remembering a song his mother hummed when she did the same. It was a dream, a fantasy of sorts, for him to wonder how they might have gotten on. They were from the opposite worlds, his mother had risen in her marriage to a baron and Persephone was giving up much to be his wife, but they both had a strength to them that he wished he'd gotten to know better in his mother before her death.
The silence stretching between them made his heart beat faster with fear that she was disappointed, and as he stepped behind her his arms slid around her waist, holding her close as he waited. Even though they'd been close on the ride over, he hadn't gotten the chance to embrace her properly and after the myriad emotions of the day before he could only imagine how she was feeling. To hear that her sister was alive had been a relief for him, but she hadn't seemed to feel that way. Perhaps the guilt would fade with time. It would be easy enough as far as he could tell to get Emilia to Taengea. Certainly Elias would be willing to let her go, especially if they renounced their claim to the throne.
When his betrothed finally spoke he couldn't hide his grin at her assessment, dropping a kiss to her shoulder and gently brushing the stubble of his chin against the material of her himation. Iason had been about to suggest they pick a room for Emilia so it could be prepared by the time she arrived from Athenia when Persephone continued and it suddenly felt as if he had been shot from behind with one of his own arrows. Frozen for a moment, he wasn't sure how to respond. She couldn't be selfish? What was more selfish than leaving after everything he had done, as if everything they had said and done was nothing. He understood the devotion to her sister, but there were so many simple ways around it and she had chosen the one thing that could hurt him most.
"Why not bring her here?"
Releasing her, he took a step back and looked over her shoulder at the green of his lands, wondering what he could have done differently. His suggestion sounded simple, far easier said than done, but it wasn't impossible. If she wanted to leave, he would give her what she needed to go.
"She would be good friends with Dorothea, and Alexa. We could give her safety, a home. And don't. Don't say I've done too much, or it would be a burden. Because you aren't. And she wouldn't be. If we marry she would be family."
It was a desperate attempt, and he knew it, but he couldn't let her go without trying.
Iason's eyes followed her intently as she wandered, waiting for her reaction as she inspected the home that would be hers. It wasn't the palace she had grown up in, and it wasn't even his father's home that was so comfortable and easy to be in, and he wondered if she would be happy with what it was. He had the capability to build, if she wanted something grander or different, he would gladly do what it took to make her content.
He lingered by the fountain until she stepped through to the balcony, trailing his fingers through the water and remembering a song his mother hummed when she did the same. It was a dream, a fantasy of sorts, for him to wonder how they might have gotten on. They were from the opposite worlds, his mother had risen in her marriage to a baron and Persephone was giving up much to be his wife, but they both had a strength to them that he wished he'd gotten to know better in his mother before her death.
The silence stretching between them made his heart beat faster with fear that she was disappointed, and as he stepped behind her his arms slid around her waist, holding her close as he waited. Even though they'd been close on the ride over, he hadn't gotten the chance to embrace her properly and after the myriad emotions of the day before he could only imagine how she was feeling. To hear that her sister was alive had been a relief for him, but she hadn't seemed to feel that way. Perhaps the guilt would fade with time. It would be easy enough as far as he could tell to get Emilia to Taengea. Certainly Elias would be willing to let her go, especially if they renounced their claim to the throne.
When his betrothed finally spoke he couldn't hide his grin at her assessment, dropping a kiss to her shoulder and gently brushing the stubble of his chin against the material of her himation. Iason had been about to suggest they pick a room for Emilia so it could be prepared by the time she arrived from Athenia when Persephone continued and it suddenly felt as if he had been shot from behind with one of his own arrows. Frozen for a moment, he wasn't sure how to respond. She couldn't be selfish? What was more selfish than leaving after everything he had done, as if everything they had said and done was nothing. He understood the devotion to her sister, but there were so many simple ways around it and she had chosen the one thing that could hurt him most.
"Why not bring her here?"
Releasing her, he took a step back and looked over her shoulder at the green of his lands, wondering what he could have done differently. His suggestion sounded simple, far easier said than done, but it wasn't impossible. If she wanted to leave, he would give her what she needed to go.
"She would be good friends with Dorothea, and Alexa. We could give her safety, a home. And don't. Don't say I've done too much, or it would be a burden. Because you aren't. And she wouldn't be. If we marry she would be family."
It was a desperate attempt, and he knew it, but he couldn't let her go without trying.
Persephone's eyes shot wide when Iason immediately spat the words that she had refrained from even imagining. His arms left her as he stepped away, her sides growing cold and bereft at the loss of his touch. She felt her chest tighten, her throat burn and her tongue run dry at the look on his face as he stepped away.
He was hurt. She had known that that was how it would be. That he wished her to be here with him and become his wife. But he seemed angry at her for the choice rather than the situation for taking such a choice away. Her brow furrowed as she heard the words leave his lips, her expression crumpling in agony at the joyful picture he painted. Couldn't he tell that all she wanted to do was stay here? Hadn't she said that she would marry him, that she wished to be his wife, that she cared for him so? She'd told him that his home was paradise. What more did he need to prove that above all things, if it was down to herself, she would remain here forever?
That the future he sculpted with his words was painful, when it was something she could not have.
Her slick black brows drawing together in consternation, Persephone swallowed.
"But it is." She insisted, ignoring his instruction not to claim the offered service as a burden. "Iason, how can I explain it so that you'll understand. You have been so kind, so wonderful..." Her hands rose with the determination of her words, her himation shining and shimmering in the air as she gestured the punctuation of her sentences. "I wish only to repay you for everything you have done and yet what do I offer you? I give you nothing of our family's original arrangements, I give you nothing but myself - inexperienced in everything it means to be a wife. And now you expect me to jump at the chance of forcing the fostering of my sister into your home, of being responsible for her, her future, her dowry. You expect me to take away her choice of where she wishes to live." She swallowed again, clearly tearful but refusing to let herself cry. She had cried too many times in Iason's presence.
Her hands rose to her face, brushing at the strands that had come loose from her hair, pushing them back over the latticework of braids.
"This union between us no longer simply grants you nothing, it now costs you also. Could you truly respect and love a woman willing to accept that so easily? Had I no feelings for you at all, I would not hesitate to do exactly that which I wish, which is to stay here, marry you and live my life in softful bliss, regardless of the harm it causes to anyone else." Persephone's hands fell to her sides in a gesture of surrender as her gaze looked out over the lands of Chaoedia, her expression one of wistfulness. "I would not resist what you offer so hard if I did not care for you so strongly."
This last conclusion was spoken as she wrapped her arms around her waist, as if to give herself comfort, her head lowered and her voice soft. Inexperienced as a wife, indeed... All she seemed to have an innate skill for was hurting the man she had come to care for...
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Persephone's eyes shot wide when Iason immediately spat the words that she had refrained from even imagining. His arms left her as he stepped away, her sides growing cold and bereft at the loss of his touch. She felt her chest tighten, her throat burn and her tongue run dry at the look on his face as he stepped away.
He was hurt. She had known that that was how it would be. That he wished her to be here with him and become his wife. But he seemed angry at her for the choice rather than the situation for taking such a choice away. Her brow furrowed as she heard the words leave his lips, her expression crumpling in agony at the joyful picture he painted. Couldn't he tell that all she wanted to do was stay here? Hadn't she said that she would marry him, that she wished to be his wife, that she cared for him so? She'd told him that his home was paradise. What more did he need to prove that above all things, if it was down to herself, she would remain here forever?
That the future he sculpted with his words was painful, when it was something she could not have.
Her slick black brows drawing together in consternation, Persephone swallowed.
"But it is." She insisted, ignoring his instruction not to claim the offered service as a burden. "Iason, how can I explain it so that you'll understand. You have been so kind, so wonderful..." Her hands rose with the determination of her words, her himation shining and shimmering in the air as she gestured the punctuation of her sentences. "I wish only to repay you for everything you have done and yet what do I offer you? I give you nothing of our family's original arrangements, I give you nothing but myself - inexperienced in everything it means to be a wife. And now you expect me to jump at the chance of forcing the fostering of my sister into your home, of being responsible for her, her future, her dowry. You expect me to take away her choice of where she wishes to live." She swallowed again, clearly tearful but refusing to let herself cry. She had cried too many times in Iason's presence.
Her hands rose to her face, brushing at the strands that had come loose from her hair, pushing them back over the latticework of braids.
"This union between us no longer simply grants you nothing, it now costs you also. Could you truly respect and love a woman willing to accept that so easily? Had I no feelings for you at all, I would not hesitate to do exactly that which I wish, which is to stay here, marry you and live my life in softful bliss, regardless of the harm it causes to anyone else." Persephone's hands fell to her sides in a gesture of surrender as her gaze looked out over the lands of Chaoedia, her expression one of wistfulness. "I would not resist what you offer so hard if I did not care for you so strongly."
This last conclusion was spoken as she wrapped her arms around her waist, as if to give herself comfort, her head lowered and her voice soft. Inexperienced as a wife, indeed... All she seemed to have an innate skill for was hurting the man she had come to care for...
Persephone's eyes shot wide when Iason immediately spat the words that she had refrained from even imagining. His arms left her as he stepped away, her sides growing cold and bereft at the loss of his touch. She felt her chest tighten, her throat burn and her tongue run dry at the look on his face as he stepped away.
He was hurt. She had known that that was how it would be. That he wished her to be here with him and become his wife. But he seemed angry at her for the choice rather than the situation for taking such a choice away. Her brow furrowed as she heard the words leave his lips, her expression crumpling in agony at the joyful picture he painted. Couldn't he tell that all she wanted to do was stay here? Hadn't she said that she would marry him, that she wished to be his wife, that she cared for him so? She'd told him that his home was paradise. What more did he need to prove that above all things, if it was down to herself, she would remain here forever?
That the future he sculpted with his words was painful, when it was something she could not have.
Her slick black brows drawing together in consternation, Persephone swallowed.
"But it is." She insisted, ignoring his instruction not to claim the offered service as a burden. "Iason, how can I explain it so that you'll understand. You have been so kind, so wonderful..." Her hands rose with the determination of her words, her himation shining and shimmering in the air as she gestured the punctuation of her sentences. "I wish only to repay you for everything you have done and yet what do I offer you? I give you nothing of our family's original arrangements, I give you nothing but myself - inexperienced in everything it means to be a wife. And now you expect me to jump at the chance of forcing the fostering of my sister into your home, of being responsible for her, her future, her dowry. You expect me to take away her choice of where she wishes to live." She swallowed again, clearly tearful but refusing to let herself cry. She had cried too many times in Iason's presence.
Her hands rose to her face, brushing at the strands that had come loose from her hair, pushing them back over the latticework of braids.
"This union between us no longer simply grants you nothing, it now costs you also. Could you truly respect and love a woman willing to accept that so easily? Had I no feelings for you at all, I would not hesitate to do exactly that which I wish, which is to stay here, marry you and live my life in softful bliss, regardless of the harm it causes to anyone else." Persephone's hands fell to her sides in a gesture of surrender as her gaze looked out over the lands of Chaoedia, her expression one of wistfulness. "I would not resist what you offer so hard if I did not care for you so strongly."
This last conclusion was spoken as she wrapped her arms around her waist, as if to give herself comfort, her head lowered and her voice soft. Inexperienced as a wife, indeed... All she seemed to have an innate skill for was hurting the man she had come to care for...
“I had hoped you might see by now that everything you could have offered before makes no difference. My father married my mother, a village girl, for love. There have never been expectations or higher aspirations cast upon me.” His arms crossed over his chest, a sinking feeling settling upon him that the taste of love, of this companionship and desire, was about to be taken from him forever. “I never loved anyone like that. Never felt that I wished to be joined with anyone else like they did. It was why I put myself forth to be your partner. Because if I could not marry for love like my father hoped, I could at least bring some prestige to the family and do my duty.”
Iason fixes his eyes on the horizon, the glow of the sun touching the treetops keeping him grounded to the moment instead of breaking. How did she not know by now. What had he done so wrong that she could not see he would do anything for her. Not out of duty and requirement, but out of love.
“I didn’t expect to ever fall in love, but I did. Why would the cost of that matter? Are you so unhappy here?”
He’d thought the answer was known, but when he asked it in spite of her protests that she only did this because she cared he wondered if deep down she found him lacking. He wasn’t exactly the sort a princess would want after all. Wild born and simple compared to the other fine and perfumed lords at the Taengean court, he was downright heathen against the Athenians she was used to. No wonder she didn’t want him. With hope her sister was alive she didn’t need him anymore.
“I’ll take you back, then. We can leave tomorrow.”
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“I had hoped you might see by now that everything you could have offered before makes no difference. My father married my mother, a village girl, for love. There have never been expectations or higher aspirations cast upon me.” His arms crossed over his chest, a sinking feeling settling upon him that the taste of love, of this companionship and desire, was about to be taken from him forever. “I never loved anyone like that. Never felt that I wished to be joined with anyone else like they did. It was why I put myself forth to be your partner. Because if I could not marry for love like my father hoped, I could at least bring some prestige to the family and do my duty.”
Iason fixes his eyes on the horizon, the glow of the sun touching the treetops keeping him grounded to the moment instead of breaking. How did she not know by now. What had he done so wrong that she could not see he would do anything for her. Not out of duty and requirement, but out of love.
“I didn’t expect to ever fall in love, but I did. Why would the cost of that matter? Are you so unhappy here?”
He’d thought the answer was known, but when he asked it in spite of her protests that she only did this because she cared he wondered if deep down she found him lacking. He wasn’t exactly the sort a princess would want after all. Wild born and simple compared to the other fine and perfumed lords at the Taengean court, he was downright heathen against the Athenians she was used to. No wonder she didn’t want him. With hope her sister was alive she didn’t need him anymore.
“I’ll take you back, then. We can leave tomorrow.”
“I had hoped you might see by now that everything you could have offered before makes no difference. My father married my mother, a village girl, for love. There have never been expectations or higher aspirations cast upon me.” His arms crossed over his chest, a sinking feeling settling upon him that the taste of love, of this companionship and desire, was about to be taken from him forever. “I never loved anyone like that. Never felt that I wished to be joined with anyone else like they did. It was why I put myself forth to be your partner. Because if I could not marry for love like my father hoped, I could at least bring some prestige to the family and do my duty.”
Iason fixes his eyes on the horizon, the glow of the sun touching the treetops keeping him grounded to the moment instead of breaking. How did she not know by now. What had he done so wrong that she could not see he would do anything for her. Not out of duty and requirement, but out of love.
“I didn’t expect to ever fall in love, but I did. Why would the cost of that matter? Are you so unhappy here?”
He’d thought the answer was known, but when he asked it in spite of her protests that she only did this because she cared he wondered if deep down she found him lacking. He wasn’t exactly the sort a princess would want after all. Wild born and simple compared to the other fine and perfumed lords at the Taengean court, he was downright heathen against the Athenians she was used to. No wonder she didn’t want him. With hope her sister was alive she didn’t need him anymore.
“I’ll take you back, then. We can leave tomorrow.”
“I had hoped you might see by now that everything you could have offered before makes no difference. My father married my mother, a village girl, for love. There have never been expectations or higher aspirations cast upon me.” His arms crossed over his chest, a sinking feeling settling upon him that the taste of love, of this companionship and desire, was about to be taken from him forever. “I never loved anyone like that. Never felt that I wished to be joined with anyone else like they did. It was why I put myself forth to be your partner. Because if I could not marry for love like my father hoped, I could at least bring some prestige to the family and do my duty.”
Iason fixes his eyes on the horizon, the glow of the sun touching the treetops keeping him grounded to the moment instead of breaking. How did she not know by now. What had he done so wrong that she could not see he would do anything for her. Not out of duty and requirement, but out of love.
“I didn’t expect to ever fall in love, but I did. Why would the cost of that matter? Are you so unhappy here?”
He’d thought the answer was known, but when he asked it in spite of her protests that she only did this because she cared he wondered if deep down she found him lacking. He wasn’t exactly the sort a princess would want after all. Wild born and simple compared to the other fine and perfumed lords at the Taengean court, he was downright heathen against the Athenians she was used to. No wonder she didn’t want him. With hope her sister was alive she didn’t need him anymore.
“I’ll take you back, then. We can leave tomorrow.”
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“I had hoped you might see by now that everything you could have offered before makes no difference. My father married my mother, a village girl, for love. There have never been expectations or higher aspirations cast upon me.” His arms crossed over his chest, a sinking feeling settling upon him that the taste of love, of this companionship and desire, was about to be taken from him forever. “I never loved anyone like that. Never felt that I wished to be joined with anyone else like they did. It was why I put myself forth to be your partner. Because if I could not marry for love like my father hoped, I could at least bring some prestige to the family and do my duty.”
Iason fixes his eyes on the horizon, the glow of the sun touching the treetops keeping him grounded to the moment instead of breaking. How did she not know by now. What had he done so wrong that she could not see he would do anything for her. Not out of duty and requirement, but out of love.
“I didn’t expect to ever fall in love, but I did. Why would the cost of that matter? Are you so unhappy here?”
He’d thought the answer was known, but when he asked it in spite of her protests that she only did this because she cared he wondered if deep down she found him lacking. He wasn’t exactly the sort a princess would want after all. Wild born and simple compared to the other fine and perfumed lords at the Taengean court, he was downright heathen against the Athenians she was used to. No wonder she didn’t want him. With hope her sister was alive she didn’t need him anymore.
“I’ll take you back, then. We can leave tomorrow.”
“I had hoped you might see by now that everything you could have offered before makes no difference. My father married my mother, a village girl, for love. There have never been expectations or higher aspirations cast upon me.” His arms crossed over his chest, a sinking feeling settling upon him that the taste of love, of this companionship and desire, was about to be taken from him forever. “I never loved anyone like that. Never felt that I wished to be joined with anyone else like they did. It was why I put myself forth to be your partner. Because if I could not marry for love like my father hoped, I could at least bring some prestige to the family and do my duty.”
Iason fixes his eyes on the horizon, the glow of the sun touching the treetops keeping him grounded to the moment instead of breaking. How did she not know by now. What had he done so wrong that she could not see he would do anything for her. Not out of duty and requirement, but out of love.
“I didn’t expect to ever fall in love, but I did. Why would the cost of that matter? Are you so unhappy here?”
He’d thought the answer was known, but when he asked it in spite of her protests that she only did this because she cared he wondered if deep down she found him lacking. He wasn’t exactly the sort a princess would want after all. Wild born and simple compared to the other fine and perfumed lords at the Taengean court, he was downright heathen against the Athenians she was used to. No wonder she didn’t want him. With hope her sister was alive she didn’t need him anymore.
“I’ll take you back, then. We can leave tomorrow.”
As Iason stepped away from her, looking out over his lands and speaking so simply, Persephone felt as if his words were his touch. As of he were stroking her heart, leaving is fingerprints upon it. The way he laid it out so simply... That it was the arrangement between them that had been the element of their relationship that made no sense to him... Despite it being the side that was so utterly understandable to her.
The purest concept: that he simply loved her and that she was enough in and of herself was something she had never understood. In fact, she still didn't. But as his step by step explanation left his lips, Persephone at least began to realise that it was something that Iason understood: that having a woman in his home whom he could love, that the mother of his children was someone he had chosen with his heart, not his head, was - in his mind - a far more successful outcome than marriage to any royal figure, regardless of whether the girl came with riches or rags.
Whilst such an idea was entirely foreign to Persephone, despite her parents holding great love for one another, she was at least able to see the logic now in Iason's behaviour, not simply wonder as to his selflessness of character. Even if she herself couldn't understand why she might be worthy of such love.
She could see it where Iason was concerned...
How easy it must be for the womenfolk of Taengea to fall for the Dimitrou lord over the years... As he grew from boy to man, into a baron of principles, compassion and just thought. A man of conversation - perhaps not in fine literature and high principles of theology - but in all the ways that mattered: subjects of justice, ethics and honesty. A man of handsome lines, rugged curling hair and a set of eyes one could drown in.
It was true that Iason would never fit in with the aesthetics of Athenia without a change of outfit, shave and a serious hair cut. And she wasnt sure that any amount of bathing oil would ever soften out the hard blemishes to his working hands or the little wrinkles at his eyes where working in the sun had given him laughter lines before his time. The man was, but Athenian standards positively wild...
And yet that was what drew Persephone. Like a moth to a beacon, she felt warm in his calling company. She liked the way he was broad shouldered with large, roughened hands. She liked the way that his short beard and over-long hair made him seem earthy and connected to the wild lands he belonged to. Iason was a man with roots that grew deep down into the earth. And Persephone was tired of floating over marble, forever forbidden from real connection.
Stepping forwards, Persephone took the role that Iason had before. Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around his sides, her hands moving high to hold onto his chest. She applied pressure to the palms of her hands and drew herself to her toes to place a kiss to the bare skin at the nape of Iason's neck, before resting her forehead in the same spot.
She ignored the last of Iason's words if only with a silence of acceptance. But she would forever feel heartbreak if she ever left, leaving Iason with the wrong idea that she had been unhappy in Taengea. She wasn't sure which would be the deeper hurt: that he was alone in his heartbreak or that she suffered with him across the sea. But at least the latter offered some truth.
"Can you not see how it is entirely the opposite, Iason?" She said, her words sinking into the fabric of his tunic. "This would not hurt so, if I were unhappy here." Her arms tightened around his torso. "I feel as if I am being tempted away from making the right choice for my sister, and perhaps for you. I feel as if the Gods made this place from a piece of my soul that I didn't know I had. I meant what I said, Iason. Your barony is pure paradise and in the last few weeks you... you have become my home."
She was fundamental and determinedly not going to cry.
"I just... I could not bear it to make another mistake where my family are concerned; to fail in my duty. I was raised to do what was right by the crown, never by my own heart. I..." Persephone swallowed, uncertain how to go on. "I have always been told that I am elegant to a fault but it appears that when it comes to understanding my own desires I am inordinately clumsy."
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As Iason stepped away from her, looking out over his lands and speaking so simply, Persephone felt as if his words were his touch. As of he were stroking her heart, leaving is fingerprints upon it. The way he laid it out so simply... That it was the arrangement between them that had been the element of their relationship that made no sense to him... Despite it being the side that was so utterly understandable to her.
The purest concept: that he simply loved her and that she was enough in and of herself was something she had never understood. In fact, she still didn't. But as his step by step explanation left his lips, Persephone at least began to realise that it was something that Iason understood: that having a woman in his home whom he could love, that the mother of his children was someone he had chosen with his heart, not his head, was - in his mind - a far more successful outcome than marriage to any royal figure, regardless of whether the girl came with riches or rags.
Whilst such an idea was entirely foreign to Persephone, despite her parents holding great love for one another, she was at least able to see the logic now in Iason's behaviour, not simply wonder as to his selflessness of character. Even if she herself couldn't understand why she might be worthy of such love.
She could see it where Iason was concerned...
How easy it must be for the womenfolk of Taengea to fall for the Dimitrou lord over the years... As he grew from boy to man, into a baron of principles, compassion and just thought. A man of conversation - perhaps not in fine literature and high principles of theology - but in all the ways that mattered: subjects of justice, ethics and honesty. A man of handsome lines, rugged curling hair and a set of eyes one could drown in.
It was true that Iason would never fit in with the aesthetics of Athenia without a change of outfit, shave and a serious hair cut. And she wasnt sure that any amount of bathing oil would ever soften out the hard blemishes to his working hands or the little wrinkles at his eyes where working in the sun had given him laughter lines before his time. The man was, but Athenian standards positively wild...
And yet that was what drew Persephone. Like a moth to a beacon, she felt warm in his calling company. She liked the way he was broad shouldered with large, roughened hands. She liked the way that his short beard and over-long hair made him seem earthy and connected to the wild lands he belonged to. Iason was a man with roots that grew deep down into the earth. And Persephone was tired of floating over marble, forever forbidden from real connection.
Stepping forwards, Persephone took the role that Iason had before. Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around his sides, her hands moving high to hold onto his chest. She applied pressure to the palms of her hands and drew herself to her toes to place a kiss to the bare skin at the nape of Iason's neck, before resting her forehead in the same spot.
She ignored the last of Iason's words if only with a silence of acceptance. But she would forever feel heartbreak if she ever left, leaving Iason with the wrong idea that she had been unhappy in Taengea. She wasn't sure which would be the deeper hurt: that he was alone in his heartbreak or that she suffered with him across the sea. But at least the latter offered some truth.
"Can you not see how it is entirely the opposite, Iason?" She said, her words sinking into the fabric of his tunic. "This would not hurt so, if I were unhappy here." Her arms tightened around his torso. "I feel as if I am being tempted away from making the right choice for my sister, and perhaps for you. I feel as if the Gods made this place from a piece of my soul that I didn't know I had. I meant what I said, Iason. Your barony is pure paradise and in the last few weeks you... you have become my home."
She was fundamental and determinedly not going to cry.
"I just... I could not bear it to make another mistake where my family are concerned; to fail in my duty. I was raised to do what was right by the crown, never by my own heart. I..." Persephone swallowed, uncertain how to go on. "I have always been told that I am elegant to a fault but it appears that when it comes to understanding my own desires I am inordinately clumsy."
As Iason stepped away from her, looking out over his lands and speaking so simply, Persephone felt as if his words were his touch. As of he were stroking her heart, leaving is fingerprints upon it. The way he laid it out so simply... That it was the arrangement between them that had been the element of their relationship that made no sense to him... Despite it being the side that was so utterly understandable to her.
The purest concept: that he simply loved her and that she was enough in and of herself was something she had never understood. In fact, she still didn't. But as his step by step explanation left his lips, Persephone at least began to realise that it was something that Iason understood: that having a woman in his home whom he could love, that the mother of his children was someone he had chosen with his heart, not his head, was - in his mind - a far more successful outcome than marriage to any royal figure, regardless of whether the girl came with riches or rags.
Whilst such an idea was entirely foreign to Persephone, despite her parents holding great love for one another, she was at least able to see the logic now in Iason's behaviour, not simply wonder as to his selflessness of character. Even if she herself couldn't understand why she might be worthy of such love.
She could see it where Iason was concerned...
How easy it must be for the womenfolk of Taengea to fall for the Dimitrou lord over the years... As he grew from boy to man, into a baron of principles, compassion and just thought. A man of conversation - perhaps not in fine literature and high principles of theology - but in all the ways that mattered: subjects of justice, ethics and honesty. A man of handsome lines, rugged curling hair and a set of eyes one could drown in.
It was true that Iason would never fit in with the aesthetics of Athenia without a change of outfit, shave and a serious hair cut. And she wasnt sure that any amount of bathing oil would ever soften out the hard blemishes to his working hands or the little wrinkles at his eyes where working in the sun had given him laughter lines before his time. The man was, but Athenian standards positively wild...
And yet that was what drew Persephone. Like a moth to a beacon, she felt warm in his calling company. She liked the way he was broad shouldered with large, roughened hands. She liked the way that his short beard and over-long hair made him seem earthy and connected to the wild lands he belonged to. Iason was a man with roots that grew deep down into the earth. And Persephone was tired of floating over marble, forever forbidden from real connection.
Stepping forwards, Persephone took the role that Iason had before. Standing behind him, she wrapped her arms around his sides, her hands moving high to hold onto his chest. She applied pressure to the palms of her hands and drew herself to her toes to place a kiss to the bare skin at the nape of Iason's neck, before resting her forehead in the same spot.
She ignored the last of Iason's words if only with a silence of acceptance. But she would forever feel heartbreak if she ever left, leaving Iason with the wrong idea that she had been unhappy in Taengea. She wasn't sure which would be the deeper hurt: that he was alone in his heartbreak or that she suffered with him across the sea. But at least the latter offered some truth.
"Can you not see how it is entirely the opposite, Iason?" She said, her words sinking into the fabric of his tunic. "This would not hurt so, if I were unhappy here." Her arms tightened around his torso. "I feel as if I am being tempted away from making the right choice for my sister, and perhaps for you. I feel as if the Gods made this place from a piece of my soul that I didn't know I had. I meant what I said, Iason. Your barony is pure paradise and in the last few weeks you... you have become my home."
She was fundamental and determinedly not going to cry.
"I just... I could not bear it to make another mistake where my family are concerned; to fail in my duty. I was raised to do what was right by the crown, never by my own heart. I..." Persephone swallowed, uncertain how to go on. "I have always been told that I am elegant to a fault but it appears that when it comes to understanding my own desires I am inordinately clumsy."
"No."
His eyes closed as she wrapped her arms around him, the kiss on the back of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. She was taller than most women, and it made it all the easier to embrace her like an equal, the way her body folded into his own brought them to a perfect level. Where her hands landed it felt as if he was burning, as if she was still trying to grip at what remained of him that hadn't entirely fallen in love with her. For her to initiate such contact was new, and his willpower was fading.
He couldn't understand as she asked him to, couldn't understand why she had to leave instead of bringing her sister here. It seemed such a simple concept, a joy to bring the younger girl here so she could live with a happy family once more. It would be easy to find a suitable match for her with her sweetness and pretty face, even if they had difficulty providing a dowry which would not be the case.
"If I am home then why does it feel as if you take every opportunity to leave?"
Taking a deep breath, he took hold of her hands, unwinding her from around him and turning to face the woman he was determined to marry. She was so beautiful, in the light of the mountains with the sea of green around them and the backdrop of the mansion he had intended to be their home. He reached for her and closed the space between them, pressing Persephone back until she was against the wall of the villa, determined in that moment to do all that he could to convince her not to go. In a change from how he'd always approached their intimacy before, and when his lips found hers this time there was no tentative shyness, no waiting for her.
He had tried words, tried convincing her every other way he knew how. Perhaps she would be swayed if not by words and reason, by the passion he held for her. Their time in the meadow felt so long ago even though barely a day had passed, but in those moments they had kept nothing from one another. One hand braced against the wall, the other slipping behind her neck to protect her from the roughness of the stone, leaving no space between their bodies until he needed a breath.
"Stay with me. Don't let your duty take this away from us. We can bring her here, be a family. Persephone...stay."
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"No."
His eyes closed as she wrapped her arms around him, the kiss on the back of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. She was taller than most women, and it made it all the easier to embrace her like an equal, the way her body folded into his own brought them to a perfect level. Where her hands landed it felt as if he was burning, as if she was still trying to grip at what remained of him that hadn't entirely fallen in love with her. For her to initiate such contact was new, and his willpower was fading.
He couldn't understand as she asked him to, couldn't understand why she had to leave instead of bringing her sister here. It seemed such a simple concept, a joy to bring the younger girl here so she could live with a happy family once more. It would be easy to find a suitable match for her with her sweetness and pretty face, even if they had difficulty providing a dowry which would not be the case.
"If I am home then why does it feel as if you take every opportunity to leave?"
Taking a deep breath, he took hold of her hands, unwinding her from around him and turning to face the woman he was determined to marry. She was so beautiful, in the light of the mountains with the sea of green around them and the backdrop of the mansion he had intended to be their home. He reached for her and closed the space between them, pressing Persephone back until she was against the wall of the villa, determined in that moment to do all that he could to convince her not to go. In a change from how he'd always approached their intimacy before, and when his lips found hers this time there was no tentative shyness, no waiting for her.
He had tried words, tried convincing her every other way he knew how. Perhaps she would be swayed if not by words and reason, by the passion he held for her. Their time in the meadow felt so long ago even though barely a day had passed, but in those moments they had kept nothing from one another. One hand braced against the wall, the other slipping behind her neck to protect her from the roughness of the stone, leaving no space between their bodies until he needed a breath.
"Stay with me. Don't let your duty take this away from us. We can bring her here, be a family. Persephone...stay."
"No."
His eyes closed as she wrapped her arms around him, the kiss on the back of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. She was taller than most women, and it made it all the easier to embrace her like an equal, the way her body folded into his own brought them to a perfect level. Where her hands landed it felt as if he was burning, as if she was still trying to grip at what remained of him that hadn't entirely fallen in love with her. For her to initiate such contact was new, and his willpower was fading.
He couldn't understand as she asked him to, couldn't understand why she had to leave instead of bringing her sister here. It seemed such a simple concept, a joy to bring the younger girl here so she could live with a happy family once more. It would be easy to find a suitable match for her with her sweetness and pretty face, even if they had difficulty providing a dowry which would not be the case.
"If I am home then why does it feel as if you take every opportunity to leave?"
Taking a deep breath, he took hold of her hands, unwinding her from around him and turning to face the woman he was determined to marry. She was so beautiful, in the light of the mountains with the sea of green around them and the backdrop of the mansion he had intended to be their home. He reached for her and closed the space between them, pressing Persephone back until she was against the wall of the villa, determined in that moment to do all that he could to convince her not to go. In a change from how he'd always approached their intimacy before, and when his lips found hers this time there was no tentative shyness, no waiting for her.
He had tried words, tried convincing her every other way he knew how. Perhaps she would be swayed if not by words and reason, by the passion he held for her. Their time in the meadow felt so long ago even though barely a day had passed, but in those moments they had kept nothing from one another. One hand braced against the wall, the other slipping behind her neck to protect her from the roughness of the stone, leaving no space between their bodies until he needed a breath.
"Stay with me. Don't let your duty take this away from us. We can bring her here, be a family. Persephone...stay."
Persephone closed her eyes against his accusation. She didn't take every opportunity for moving on voluntarily. It was simply an instinct, driven into her from years of being told her worth - specifically as a princess and queen. If she was without those things... she did not recognise or understand why that would be enough. The more she had come to love Taengea, the more she had been determined to abandon it for the sake of Iason's future with someone who could offer him more than she.
Now, she did it because she could not condemn her sister to the abdication of her birth right without her choice in the matter,
She had never known someone who made her feel so chastised for attempting to be selfless and do the right thing. Like her judgement and logic were all wrong.
She opened her mouth to say so but Iason's hands, with their patches of rough callouses from archery and horse work, wrapped around her slim and soft wrists, removing her hold from his chest and allowing him to turn.
At first, Persephone felt her heart sink as she assumed his actions and words were a sign of rejection. That her latest step into the wrong had been a step too far. But quickly, she was forced to look up and take several hurried steps backwards as he approached her harshly, her back coming into contact with the walls of his home, a soft mew leaving her lips in a moment of intimidation.
The sound was muffled by Iason's mouth as he kissed her. The touch was determined, passionate... even a little aggressive. He did not force her with touch and the lean of his body; she was free to escape if she wished. But his kiss held her in place, soft noises escaping her nose and throat, part moan, part protest at so sudden an assault.
It was in that kiss, her eyes drifting shut and her breath freezing in her lungs despite the balmy temperature of the day, that Persephone realised something.
Her heart was beating hard, fast and with a life she hadn't felt it beat before besides when in Iason's company.
Not when she had been seated in the Senate hearing that would have defined hers and her kingdom's fate. Not when she had been forced to attend her father's funeral as monarch. Not when her mother had passed or her plans and schemes as a princess had developed into successful events. Whether good or bad, no memory that she could recall including a heartrate that was so vivid and vibrant in her chest.
Iason made her feel alive.
Who that living person was, Persephone wasn't yet sure. In the same way she couldn't understand how she as a woman not a ruler could be enough for him, she could not be certain who it was that he triggered this reaction in. But Iason seemed to know. He seemed to know who the woman was behind the crown.
And the touch of his mouth, the heat it created beneath her skin... the entirely foreign and a little bit frightening yearning he made her feel... made her want to find out who it was that Iason had professed his love to in that meadow.
Because she was strongly suspecting that that woman would find a perfectly content home in Chaoedia. Would adore being Iason's wife. Would wish to raise Iason's children and teach them to read. She might not have any idea how to be a mother or a wife but something swirling in her lower belly told her that the woman Iason loved knew. That she would have the ability.
It was a woman Iason already believed her to be, and a woman she desperately wanted to try and become.
She felt his body lean in close, blocking her exit, as if he instinctively knew she wanted to go nowhere. His hand came up to curl around her neck and set fire along her nerve endings, the trickle of desire running down her spine.
When he broke their kiss in order to breathe, their lips clung to each other as they separated, unwilling to part for even a moment. As Iason spoke, Persephone's eyes opened, her lashes fluttering as they rose to meet his gaze, her iris' dark with a desire she had only ever felt with the man before her.
'Stay with me...'
His words had her heart tighten in her chest and her throat dipping in a swallow of nervousness. Her eyes flickered between his, searching for any sense of uncertainty in his choice but found absolutely none.
If she stayed with Iason, if she stayed in Chaoedia, it forced two futures upon her. One was that she returned to Athenia and brought Emilia back with them. Regardless of Emilia's choice in the matter, they would bring her to Taengea and offer her a family instead of a crown, forcing her to give up her birth right as Persephone was willing to give up hers. Second, would be Emilia's desire to stay and hold to their legacy - to fight to be queen. If she wished to do so, Persephone would have to abandon her to Athenia. Or perhaps stay only long enough to ensure she was safe and secure as ruler and then leave her to the care of Aimias.
Either option felt too selfish to even consider but when Iason was touching her it felt so abundantly easy to want to walk the simple and selfish path. The fact that she thought it unlikely that Emilia would ever want to be queen was only a too tempting encouragement in the same direction.
Persephone opened her mouth to respond, her lower lip hesitating as she attempted to collect her thoughts. She kept her gaze firmly on Iason's as she finally and blessedly made her choice...
"I will return to Athenia." She stated with a tone that brokered no argument. She would not leave this part of the plan to the responsibility of anyone else. "I will find Emilia. If... If she wishes to renounce the crown, we can bring her back here. If she wishes to become ruler... I will stay as long as needed to ensure she is safe." She swallowed; her eyes wide as she felt the momentous choice she was about to verbalise. "If that is acceptable to you... then either way I would like to return here to Chaoedia, be your wife and live the rest of my life in paradise."
A lilting softness at the corners of her mouth had a nervous smile clearly waiting in the wings, her lower lip curling in, and her teeth coming down to restraint an expression of happiness as she waited for Iason to confirm he was willing to accept such a future for them both...
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Persephone closed her eyes against his accusation. She didn't take every opportunity for moving on voluntarily. It was simply an instinct, driven into her from years of being told her worth - specifically as a princess and queen. If she was without those things... she did not recognise or understand why that would be enough. The more she had come to love Taengea, the more she had been determined to abandon it for the sake of Iason's future with someone who could offer him more than she.
Now, she did it because she could not condemn her sister to the abdication of her birth right without her choice in the matter,
She had never known someone who made her feel so chastised for attempting to be selfless and do the right thing. Like her judgement and logic were all wrong.
She opened her mouth to say so but Iason's hands, with their patches of rough callouses from archery and horse work, wrapped around her slim and soft wrists, removing her hold from his chest and allowing him to turn.
At first, Persephone felt her heart sink as she assumed his actions and words were a sign of rejection. That her latest step into the wrong had been a step too far. But quickly, she was forced to look up and take several hurried steps backwards as he approached her harshly, her back coming into contact with the walls of his home, a soft mew leaving her lips in a moment of intimidation.
The sound was muffled by Iason's mouth as he kissed her. The touch was determined, passionate... even a little aggressive. He did not force her with touch and the lean of his body; she was free to escape if she wished. But his kiss held her in place, soft noises escaping her nose and throat, part moan, part protest at so sudden an assault.
It was in that kiss, her eyes drifting shut and her breath freezing in her lungs despite the balmy temperature of the day, that Persephone realised something.
Her heart was beating hard, fast and with a life she hadn't felt it beat before besides when in Iason's company.
Not when she had been seated in the Senate hearing that would have defined hers and her kingdom's fate. Not when she had been forced to attend her father's funeral as monarch. Not when her mother had passed or her plans and schemes as a princess had developed into successful events. Whether good or bad, no memory that she could recall including a heartrate that was so vivid and vibrant in her chest.
Iason made her feel alive.
Who that living person was, Persephone wasn't yet sure. In the same way she couldn't understand how she as a woman not a ruler could be enough for him, she could not be certain who it was that he triggered this reaction in. But Iason seemed to know. He seemed to know who the woman was behind the crown.
And the touch of his mouth, the heat it created beneath her skin... the entirely foreign and a little bit frightening yearning he made her feel... made her want to find out who it was that Iason had professed his love to in that meadow.
Because she was strongly suspecting that that woman would find a perfectly content home in Chaoedia. Would adore being Iason's wife. Would wish to raise Iason's children and teach them to read. She might not have any idea how to be a mother or a wife but something swirling in her lower belly told her that the woman Iason loved knew. That she would have the ability.
It was a woman Iason already believed her to be, and a woman she desperately wanted to try and become.
She felt his body lean in close, blocking her exit, as if he instinctively knew she wanted to go nowhere. His hand came up to curl around her neck and set fire along her nerve endings, the trickle of desire running down her spine.
When he broke their kiss in order to breathe, their lips clung to each other as they separated, unwilling to part for even a moment. As Iason spoke, Persephone's eyes opened, her lashes fluttering as they rose to meet his gaze, her iris' dark with a desire she had only ever felt with the man before her.
'Stay with me...'
His words had her heart tighten in her chest and her throat dipping in a swallow of nervousness. Her eyes flickered between his, searching for any sense of uncertainty in his choice but found absolutely none.
If she stayed with Iason, if she stayed in Chaoedia, it forced two futures upon her. One was that she returned to Athenia and brought Emilia back with them. Regardless of Emilia's choice in the matter, they would bring her to Taengea and offer her a family instead of a crown, forcing her to give up her birth right as Persephone was willing to give up hers. Second, would be Emilia's desire to stay and hold to their legacy - to fight to be queen. If she wished to do so, Persephone would have to abandon her to Athenia. Or perhaps stay only long enough to ensure she was safe and secure as ruler and then leave her to the care of Aimias.
Either option felt too selfish to even consider but when Iason was touching her it felt so abundantly easy to want to walk the simple and selfish path. The fact that she thought it unlikely that Emilia would ever want to be queen was only a too tempting encouragement in the same direction.
Persephone opened her mouth to respond, her lower lip hesitating as she attempted to collect her thoughts. She kept her gaze firmly on Iason's as she finally and blessedly made her choice...
"I will return to Athenia." She stated with a tone that brokered no argument. She would not leave this part of the plan to the responsibility of anyone else. "I will find Emilia. If... If she wishes to renounce the crown, we can bring her back here. If she wishes to become ruler... I will stay as long as needed to ensure she is safe." She swallowed; her eyes wide as she felt the momentous choice she was about to verbalise. "If that is acceptable to you... then either way I would like to return here to Chaoedia, be your wife and live the rest of my life in paradise."
A lilting softness at the corners of her mouth had a nervous smile clearly waiting in the wings, her lower lip curling in, and her teeth coming down to restraint an expression of happiness as she waited for Iason to confirm he was willing to accept such a future for them both...
Persephone closed her eyes against his accusation. She didn't take every opportunity for moving on voluntarily. It was simply an instinct, driven into her from years of being told her worth - specifically as a princess and queen. If she was without those things... she did not recognise or understand why that would be enough. The more she had come to love Taengea, the more she had been determined to abandon it for the sake of Iason's future with someone who could offer him more than she.
Now, she did it because she could not condemn her sister to the abdication of her birth right without her choice in the matter,
She had never known someone who made her feel so chastised for attempting to be selfless and do the right thing. Like her judgement and logic were all wrong.
She opened her mouth to say so but Iason's hands, with their patches of rough callouses from archery and horse work, wrapped around her slim and soft wrists, removing her hold from his chest and allowing him to turn.
At first, Persephone felt her heart sink as she assumed his actions and words were a sign of rejection. That her latest step into the wrong had been a step too far. But quickly, she was forced to look up and take several hurried steps backwards as he approached her harshly, her back coming into contact with the walls of his home, a soft mew leaving her lips in a moment of intimidation.
The sound was muffled by Iason's mouth as he kissed her. The touch was determined, passionate... even a little aggressive. He did not force her with touch and the lean of his body; she was free to escape if she wished. But his kiss held her in place, soft noises escaping her nose and throat, part moan, part protest at so sudden an assault.
It was in that kiss, her eyes drifting shut and her breath freezing in her lungs despite the balmy temperature of the day, that Persephone realised something.
Her heart was beating hard, fast and with a life she hadn't felt it beat before besides when in Iason's company.
Not when she had been seated in the Senate hearing that would have defined hers and her kingdom's fate. Not when she had been forced to attend her father's funeral as monarch. Not when her mother had passed or her plans and schemes as a princess had developed into successful events. Whether good or bad, no memory that she could recall including a heartrate that was so vivid and vibrant in her chest.
Iason made her feel alive.
Who that living person was, Persephone wasn't yet sure. In the same way she couldn't understand how she as a woman not a ruler could be enough for him, she could not be certain who it was that he triggered this reaction in. But Iason seemed to know. He seemed to know who the woman was behind the crown.
And the touch of his mouth, the heat it created beneath her skin... the entirely foreign and a little bit frightening yearning he made her feel... made her want to find out who it was that Iason had professed his love to in that meadow.
Because she was strongly suspecting that that woman would find a perfectly content home in Chaoedia. Would adore being Iason's wife. Would wish to raise Iason's children and teach them to read. She might not have any idea how to be a mother or a wife but something swirling in her lower belly told her that the woman Iason loved knew. That she would have the ability.
It was a woman Iason already believed her to be, and a woman she desperately wanted to try and become.
She felt his body lean in close, blocking her exit, as if he instinctively knew she wanted to go nowhere. His hand came up to curl around her neck and set fire along her nerve endings, the trickle of desire running down her spine.
When he broke their kiss in order to breathe, their lips clung to each other as they separated, unwilling to part for even a moment. As Iason spoke, Persephone's eyes opened, her lashes fluttering as they rose to meet his gaze, her iris' dark with a desire she had only ever felt with the man before her.
'Stay with me...'
His words had her heart tighten in her chest and her throat dipping in a swallow of nervousness. Her eyes flickered between his, searching for any sense of uncertainty in his choice but found absolutely none.
If she stayed with Iason, if she stayed in Chaoedia, it forced two futures upon her. One was that she returned to Athenia and brought Emilia back with them. Regardless of Emilia's choice in the matter, they would bring her to Taengea and offer her a family instead of a crown, forcing her to give up her birth right as Persephone was willing to give up hers. Second, would be Emilia's desire to stay and hold to their legacy - to fight to be queen. If she wished to do so, Persephone would have to abandon her to Athenia. Or perhaps stay only long enough to ensure she was safe and secure as ruler and then leave her to the care of Aimias.
Either option felt too selfish to even consider but when Iason was touching her it felt so abundantly easy to want to walk the simple and selfish path. The fact that she thought it unlikely that Emilia would ever want to be queen was only a too tempting encouragement in the same direction.
Persephone opened her mouth to respond, her lower lip hesitating as she attempted to collect her thoughts. She kept her gaze firmly on Iason's as she finally and blessedly made her choice...
"I will return to Athenia." She stated with a tone that brokered no argument. She would not leave this part of the plan to the responsibility of anyone else. "I will find Emilia. If... If she wishes to renounce the crown, we can bring her back here. If she wishes to become ruler... I will stay as long as needed to ensure she is safe." She swallowed; her eyes wide as she felt the momentous choice she was about to verbalise. "If that is acceptable to you... then either way I would like to return here to Chaoedia, be your wife and live the rest of my life in paradise."
A lilting softness at the corners of her mouth had a nervous smile clearly waiting in the wings, her lower lip curling in, and her teeth coming down to restraint an expression of happiness as she waited for Iason to confirm he was willing to accept such a future for them both...
It felt impossible to catch his breath as he met her gaze, waiting and hoping that she would change her mind, promise to stay and mean it this time. He wanted her to wrap around him as easily as she had in the meadow and make the choice to stay. In his mind it was so simple, the simplest thing in the world to be with the person he'd felt more for in months than anyone else in years. Surely he could not be alone in feeling it. Even if she had said she didn't think herself in love yet.
All his hope was washed away when she looked him in the eye and stated that she would return to Athenia. His hands fell away from her and in the span of a heartbeat he'd pushed back, eyes on the ground. Her plan was sound enough, he didn't know if it would be enough to take back what she had lost, but that didn't matter anymore. She'd made her choice, and her tone meant there was no arguing with her, he'd known her long enough to be sure of that. It was the follow up that took him by surprise. As sudden as his heart fell it rose again, and he snapped his gaze back up to meet hers, lips parted for a breath he was afraid to let out in case she snatched back the hope she had just given him.
"You'd come back...?"
He didn't know what happened next, it was as if everything around him stood still and sped up all at once, and he was reaching for her once more. Only when she was wrapped in his embrace did he finally allow himself to exhale the relief he felt. They could do this, if it was what she needed to do. He wouldn't lie and say that he was afraid of taking her back to the place where they had nearly been victims of assassination, but he would do this if it was what she needed to be at peace. Emilia could come home and be happy here too, and she would have her family close, feel at ease at last.
Iason pulled back to look down at her, smiling more broadly than he had in a long while with the joy that felt as if he could never be happier than he was now. To hear her finally accept, agree that they would come home and build a life here together, in Chaoedia, near his father and sisters and everything he held dear, it was everything he had ever desired. With her by his side, anything could be possible.
"We can go together. Set her up or bring her home, whatever she wishes." He laughed a bit in a giddy sort of anticipation and he took her hands in his, pressing kisses to the back of each. "I love you."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It felt impossible to catch his breath as he met her gaze, waiting and hoping that she would change her mind, promise to stay and mean it this time. He wanted her to wrap around him as easily as she had in the meadow and make the choice to stay. In his mind it was so simple, the simplest thing in the world to be with the person he'd felt more for in months than anyone else in years. Surely he could not be alone in feeling it. Even if she had said she didn't think herself in love yet.
All his hope was washed away when she looked him in the eye and stated that she would return to Athenia. His hands fell away from her and in the span of a heartbeat he'd pushed back, eyes on the ground. Her plan was sound enough, he didn't know if it would be enough to take back what she had lost, but that didn't matter anymore. She'd made her choice, and her tone meant there was no arguing with her, he'd known her long enough to be sure of that. It was the follow up that took him by surprise. As sudden as his heart fell it rose again, and he snapped his gaze back up to meet hers, lips parted for a breath he was afraid to let out in case she snatched back the hope she had just given him.
"You'd come back...?"
He didn't know what happened next, it was as if everything around him stood still and sped up all at once, and he was reaching for her once more. Only when she was wrapped in his embrace did he finally allow himself to exhale the relief he felt. They could do this, if it was what she needed to do. He wouldn't lie and say that he was afraid of taking her back to the place where they had nearly been victims of assassination, but he would do this if it was what she needed to be at peace. Emilia could come home and be happy here too, and she would have her family close, feel at ease at last.
Iason pulled back to look down at her, smiling more broadly than he had in a long while with the joy that felt as if he could never be happier than he was now. To hear her finally accept, agree that they would come home and build a life here together, in Chaoedia, near his father and sisters and everything he held dear, it was everything he had ever desired. With her by his side, anything could be possible.
"We can go together. Set her up or bring her home, whatever she wishes." He laughed a bit in a giddy sort of anticipation and he took her hands in his, pressing kisses to the back of each. "I love you."
It felt impossible to catch his breath as he met her gaze, waiting and hoping that she would change her mind, promise to stay and mean it this time. He wanted her to wrap around him as easily as she had in the meadow and make the choice to stay. In his mind it was so simple, the simplest thing in the world to be with the person he'd felt more for in months than anyone else in years. Surely he could not be alone in feeling it. Even if she had said she didn't think herself in love yet.
All his hope was washed away when she looked him in the eye and stated that she would return to Athenia. His hands fell away from her and in the span of a heartbeat he'd pushed back, eyes on the ground. Her plan was sound enough, he didn't know if it would be enough to take back what she had lost, but that didn't matter anymore. She'd made her choice, and her tone meant there was no arguing with her, he'd known her long enough to be sure of that. It was the follow up that took him by surprise. As sudden as his heart fell it rose again, and he snapped his gaze back up to meet hers, lips parted for a breath he was afraid to let out in case she snatched back the hope she had just given him.
"You'd come back...?"
He didn't know what happened next, it was as if everything around him stood still and sped up all at once, and he was reaching for her once more. Only when she was wrapped in his embrace did he finally allow himself to exhale the relief he felt. They could do this, if it was what she needed to do. He wouldn't lie and say that he was afraid of taking her back to the place where they had nearly been victims of assassination, but he would do this if it was what she needed to be at peace. Emilia could come home and be happy here too, and she would have her family close, feel at ease at last.
Iason pulled back to look down at her, smiling more broadly than he had in a long while with the joy that felt as if he could never be happier than he was now. To hear her finally accept, agree that they would come home and build a life here together, in Chaoedia, near his father and sisters and everything he held dear, it was everything he had ever desired. With her by his side, anything could be possible.
"We can go together. Set her up or bring her home, whatever she wishes." He laughed a bit in a giddy sort of anticipation and he took her hands in his, pressing kisses to the back of each. "I love you."
If Persephone had needed any proof that she had just made the right decision, Iason's reaction was all she needed. For who could be so joyous over a mistake? It wasn't possible. And his enthusiasm, his pure bliss at the way in which their futures were aligning, was contagious. Not a woman used to large or expressive forms of emotion; always told to keep her personal feelings hidden, even Persephone found herself smiling brightly in return of Iason's broad grin, the corners of her eyes tilting upwards in genuine happiness and her arms naturally winding around Iason's waist as he drew her near and insisted that they would go to Athenia together.
It was then, folded in his strong but gentle arms, his heart racing against her breast, his scent in her nose and his breath at her ear that Persephone felt her heart fall into a place of pure contentment.
Whilst they were two different people of different cultures who couldn't seem to say or do the right thing on a consistent basis, when all words were cleared up and all miscommunication removed... Things with Iason became warm and natural... As easy as breathing and as joyful as real happiness could be.
Persephone found her arms pulling Iason as tightly into her frame as she could, as if she sought closer contact still. She felt a restlessness in her body at his proximity, at the words of love murmured in her ear, after he kissed her hands and pulled her close again. Whilst she didn't move to do it, she felt the odd desire to move her hands along the small of his back in the hopes of finding a hem, a gap that would lead her touch to skin. Like she needed his closeness and the clothes they wore were barriers to that desire.
Inexperienced she might be but unintelligent Persephone was not. Whilst she had never felt so foreign a desire with anyone else, the drew of skin, the way she wished she might imprint the smell of Iason into her memory, the way the small of her back wished to tilt her hips further into his frame... Aphrodite was sending her a message.
Unable to yet say the same words back to him, for her own emotions were still a wreckage of pique, confusion, revelation and joy, Persephone knew of something just as precious that she might offer to the man who was rapidly becoming the central stability of her world.
In a moment where the both of them seemed to instinctively lift their heads - she from his chest and he from her shoulder - Persephone rose onto her toes once more and, with and open and giving softness to her body, pressed her lips to her betrothed's.
The kiss she offered Iason was soft, explorative and - she hoped - loving. Her eyes fell closed and one of her hands moved up to his face, light against the rough hair of his short beard.
Before he could think the exchange some kind of brush off or a kiss made in pity for being unable to speak his words back to him, Persephone deliberately leaned herself closer, infusing her lips with a stronger pressure and tilting her head to find an angle they had discovered on the night of the storm that fit them together so well.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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If Persephone had needed any proof that she had just made the right decision, Iason's reaction was all she needed. For who could be so joyous over a mistake? It wasn't possible. And his enthusiasm, his pure bliss at the way in which their futures were aligning, was contagious. Not a woman used to large or expressive forms of emotion; always told to keep her personal feelings hidden, even Persephone found herself smiling brightly in return of Iason's broad grin, the corners of her eyes tilting upwards in genuine happiness and her arms naturally winding around Iason's waist as he drew her near and insisted that they would go to Athenia together.
It was then, folded in his strong but gentle arms, his heart racing against her breast, his scent in her nose and his breath at her ear that Persephone felt her heart fall into a place of pure contentment.
Whilst they were two different people of different cultures who couldn't seem to say or do the right thing on a consistent basis, when all words were cleared up and all miscommunication removed... Things with Iason became warm and natural... As easy as breathing and as joyful as real happiness could be.
Persephone found her arms pulling Iason as tightly into her frame as she could, as if she sought closer contact still. She felt a restlessness in her body at his proximity, at the words of love murmured in her ear, after he kissed her hands and pulled her close again. Whilst she didn't move to do it, she felt the odd desire to move her hands along the small of his back in the hopes of finding a hem, a gap that would lead her touch to skin. Like she needed his closeness and the clothes they wore were barriers to that desire.
Inexperienced she might be but unintelligent Persephone was not. Whilst she had never felt so foreign a desire with anyone else, the drew of skin, the way she wished she might imprint the smell of Iason into her memory, the way the small of her back wished to tilt her hips further into his frame... Aphrodite was sending her a message.
Unable to yet say the same words back to him, for her own emotions were still a wreckage of pique, confusion, revelation and joy, Persephone knew of something just as precious that she might offer to the man who was rapidly becoming the central stability of her world.
In a moment where the both of them seemed to instinctively lift their heads - she from his chest and he from her shoulder - Persephone rose onto her toes once more and, with and open and giving softness to her body, pressed her lips to her betrothed's.
The kiss she offered Iason was soft, explorative and - she hoped - loving. Her eyes fell closed and one of her hands moved up to his face, light against the rough hair of his short beard.
Before he could think the exchange some kind of brush off or a kiss made in pity for being unable to speak his words back to him, Persephone deliberately leaned herself closer, infusing her lips with a stronger pressure and tilting her head to find an angle they had discovered on the night of the storm that fit them together so well.
If Persephone had needed any proof that she had just made the right decision, Iason's reaction was all she needed. For who could be so joyous over a mistake? It wasn't possible. And his enthusiasm, his pure bliss at the way in which their futures were aligning, was contagious. Not a woman used to large or expressive forms of emotion; always told to keep her personal feelings hidden, even Persephone found herself smiling brightly in return of Iason's broad grin, the corners of her eyes tilting upwards in genuine happiness and her arms naturally winding around Iason's waist as he drew her near and insisted that they would go to Athenia together.
It was then, folded in his strong but gentle arms, his heart racing against her breast, his scent in her nose and his breath at her ear that Persephone felt her heart fall into a place of pure contentment.
Whilst they were two different people of different cultures who couldn't seem to say or do the right thing on a consistent basis, when all words were cleared up and all miscommunication removed... Things with Iason became warm and natural... As easy as breathing and as joyful as real happiness could be.
Persephone found her arms pulling Iason as tightly into her frame as she could, as if she sought closer contact still. She felt a restlessness in her body at his proximity, at the words of love murmured in her ear, after he kissed her hands and pulled her close again. Whilst she didn't move to do it, she felt the odd desire to move her hands along the small of his back in the hopes of finding a hem, a gap that would lead her touch to skin. Like she needed his closeness and the clothes they wore were barriers to that desire.
Inexperienced she might be but unintelligent Persephone was not. Whilst she had never felt so foreign a desire with anyone else, the drew of skin, the way she wished she might imprint the smell of Iason into her memory, the way the small of her back wished to tilt her hips further into his frame... Aphrodite was sending her a message.
Unable to yet say the same words back to him, for her own emotions were still a wreckage of pique, confusion, revelation and joy, Persephone knew of something just as precious that she might offer to the man who was rapidly becoming the central stability of her world.
In a moment where the both of them seemed to instinctively lift their heads - she from his chest and he from her shoulder - Persephone rose onto her toes once more and, with and open and giving softness to her body, pressed her lips to her betrothed's.
The kiss she offered Iason was soft, explorative and - she hoped - loving. Her eyes fell closed and one of her hands moved up to his face, light against the rough hair of his short beard.
Before he could think the exchange some kind of brush off or a kiss made in pity for being unable to speak his words back to him, Persephone deliberately leaned herself closer, infusing her lips with a stronger pressure and tilting her head to find an angle they had discovered on the night of the storm that fit them together so well.
Embracing her was a relief knowing now that he was her choice and they would stay together. He didn't pull away when her arms slid around him, happy to stay close by the edge of the house that would be their home as long as she wished. As they stood there it was as if he could see their future, dark haired children running along the lawn, chasing his father about as he and Dorothea had played with Gavriil in their youth. Another image of those same children racing their ponies through the fields and waving to the villagers of Chaoedia, teaching their son how to govern in his stead when the time came. A flash vision of a wedding banquet, grey in both his and Persephone's hair as they beamed at the newest addition to their family. It was all he had desired and now it was in their grasp.
When her head lifted from his chest he smiled, brushing at her hair line and toying with a loose strand as she stood on her tiptoes. This time he let her control the kiss, a hand on the small of her back to support her and encourage the closeness. As their lips moved together, soft at first before she deepened and extended the contact, a flush of warmth ran through him and he curled his fingers against her back and held her closer still. They didn't have to leave yet, had no one else to worry about in this instant except for the two of them, and he wanted to simply lose himself in this.
A soft exhale blew from his lips as she brushed her hand against his cheek, eagerly leaning in as she did without the caution that had colored their interactions before. Now there was no doubt in his mind that they would be together, they'd made promises and soon enough they'd be wed. Standing against the warm stone wall as the sun slowly made it's way toward the west with the fading of the day felt as if he was still in some sort of dream of their future, and the thought of the bed that had been long unoccupied called to him. It felt as if he couldn't get close enough with them standing like this, and after a moment of trying to pull her closer he made a soft noise of frustration before lifting her from the ground, encouraging her legs to wrap about his waist and pressing her back against the wall once again. It was easier this way to give in to the desire to keep her as flush against him as possible.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Embracing her was a relief knowing now that he was her choice and they would stay together. He didn't pull away when her arms slid around him, happy to stay close by the edge of the house that would be their home as long as she wished. As they stood there it was as if he could see their future, dark haired children running along the lawn, chasing his father about as he and Dorothea had played with Gavriil in their youth. Another image of those same children racing their ponies through the fields and waving to the villagers of Chaoedia, teaching their son how to govern in his stead when the time came. A flash vision of a wedding banquet, grey in both his and Persephone's hair as they beamed at the newest addition to their family. It was all he had desired and now it was in their grasp.
When her head lifted from his chest he smiled, brushing at her hair line and toying with a loose strand as she stood on her tiptoes. This time he let her control the kiss, a hand on the small of her back to support her and encourage the closeness. As their lips moved together, soft at first before she deepened and extended the contact, a flush of warmth ran through him and he curled his fingers against her back and held her closer still. They didn't have to leave yet, had no one else to worry about in this instant except for the two of them, and he wanted to simply lose himself in this.
A soft exhale blew from his lips as she brushed her hand against his cheek, eagerly leaning in as she did without the caution that had colored their interactions before. Now there was no doubt in his mind that they would be together, they'd made promises and soon enough they'd be wed. Standing against the warm stone wall as the sun slowly made it's way toward the west with the fading of the day felt as if he was still in some sort of dream of their future, and the thought of the bed that had been long unoccupied called to him. It felt as if he couldn't get close enough with them standing like this, and after a moment of trying to pull her closer he made a soft noise of frustration before lifting her from the ground, encouraging her legs to wrap about his waist and pressing her back against the wall once again. It was easier this way to give in to the desire to keep her as flush against him as possible.
Embracing her was a relief knowing now that he was her choice and they would stay together. He didn't pull away when her arms slid around him, happy to stay close by the edge of the house that would be their home as long as she wished. As they stood there it was as if he could see their future, dark haired children running along the lawn, chasing his father about as he and Dorothea had played with Gavriil in their youth. Another image of those same children racing their ponies through the fields and waving to the villagers of Chaoedia, teaching their son how to govern in his stead when the time came. A flash vision of a wedding banquet, grey in both his and Persephone's hair as they beamed at the newest addition to their family. It was all he had desired and now it was in their grasp.
When her head lifted from his chest he smiled, brushing at her hair line and toying with a loose strand as she stood on her tiptoes. This time he let her control the kiss, a hand on the small of her back to support her and encourage the closeness. As their lips moved together, soft at first before she deepened and extended the contact, a flush of warmth ran through him and he curled his fingers against her back and held her closer still. They didn't have to leave yet, had no one else to worry about in this instant except for the two of them, and he wanted to simply lose himself in this.
A soft exhale blew from his lips as she brushed her hand against his cheek, eagerly leaning in as she did without the caution that had colored their interactions before. Now there was no doubt in his mind that they would be together, they'd made promises and soon enough they'd be wed. Standing against the warm stone wall as the sun slowly made it's way toward the west with the fading of the day felt as if he was still in some sort of dream of their future, and the thought of the bed that had been long unoccupied called to him. It felt as if he couldn't get close enough with them standing like this, and after a moment of trying to pull her closer he made a soft noise of frustration before lifting her from the ground, encouraging her legs to wrap about his waist and pressing her back against the wall once again. It was easier this way to give in to the desire to keep her as flush against him as possible.
The change between each of their moments of intimacy since Persephone had arrived in Taengea had been both gradual and possessive. Back in Meganea, in her borrowed chambers, they had sought the escape that came with physical abandon. Or, at least she had. Subconsciously using Iason as a numbing agent against the pain of loss and the agony of lost identity. She had sought the scary and tumultuously foreign passions of the physical body in order to forget herself.
The second time, in the fields of his father's land, it had been different. No longer fearful of her reality, Persephone had not left it behind as Iason had shown her the height of physical pleasure; it had been as real as it had been a fantasy. Yet, her lack of experience, their position in the open rural lands had been enough to spark her insecurities. Instead of a fear of the world she was attempting to abandon in moments of rebellion, that time it had been a genuine virginal nervousness.
Now, as they kissed on the terrace of what would become their home, those nerves danced along her heartstrings, still very much present. But, instead of a halting obstacle, they had become a tantalising ally to Iason's adoration. The frisson of nervousness she felt zipping through her bloodstream made her sensitive, not fearful. The safe and secure feeling that had developed between the two of them had removed the scary side of her chastity, leaving only sensitised anticipation.
Knowing that Iason had yet to experience coupling with a woman, Persephone could only hope that he was either braver than her by nature or that she engendered within him the same sense of inner peace.
Peacefulness was not the feeling guiding their behaviours however, as Iason had her once more against the wall of his home, the cold stone a harsh contrast to the growing heat of her skin. He encouraged her to lift her legs, flattening his body still closer to hers, the touch making her gasp into his mouth.
But while her skirts were for riding and were split in style, her peplos was silken and it was hard to maintain purchase on his hips when her skin slid against the fabric.
Dropping her legs from his waist and then her hands from his frame, Persephone was quick to smile and take one of his hands, her fingers linking with his. She did not wish his confidence to be knocked or for him to fear she was pulling away for any reason besides awkward garments.
"Come..." She said to him, her voice a soft instruction. "I think you should show me the rest of our home..."
She smiled brightly at the careful choice of words. For this was to now be their shared haven.
Leading the way, her fingers still entwined with his, Persephone's regal confidence returned to her, but it did not return with the icy demeanour that was its usual companion. Feeling more herself than she ever remembered feeling, Persephone drew the two of them through corridors and staircases, looking into different chambers, her eyes bright and inquisitive. She kept glancing over her shoulder, smiling back at the future husband that followed in her footsteps.
It wasn't until they reached a room, the occupation of which was unmistakeable, that Persephone's steps stilled, the skirts of her gown swirling around her legs as her momentum ceased.
It was a large chamber, with archways lining one wall that led out onto the balcony at the back of the manor. The entire room was filled with the bright sunshine of the Chaoedia lands and facing the arches that framed so spectacular a view, stood an impressive four poster bed, carved from the dark wood she had seen in the forests they had travelled through that same day.
There was nothing else in the room. Chests and furniture had clearly been packed away into storage, fabrics hidden from dust. The bed itself was covered in a gossamer sheet, transparent in the light of the dying afternoon and flittering in the breeze from outside, to protect the piece beneath from the dust of disuse.
Persephone let go of Iason's hand as she stepped out into the centre of the room, spinning slowly to embrace the entire chamber, from its high ceilings to the shining wooden floor only muted softly from lack of attention over the few months Iason had been away.
Turning back to the man before her, the man she had now consciously and whole-heartedly chosen for her own, Persephone's smile slipped... But only into an expression of intense connection that seemed more intimate than a simple smile.
Stepping towards him, unknowing of whether he would be wishing for their relationship to develop prior to their formal union, Persephone laid the palms of her hands softly upon her betrothed's chest, either side of the join of his tunic. Every action she took was calm and happened as if in slow motion, for she did not wish to pop the bubble of their intimacy, NIR have him fear that her actions were fuelled by uncontrollable bouts of emotion. She wanted him to know that this was her deliberate choice.
Without words, this time, Persephone watched Iason's expression as she took hold of the material and, with infinite slowness, pushed it out towards his shoulders, attempting to remove the garment and bear witness to the shape of the man that would be her husband...
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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The change between each of their moments of intimacy since Persephone had arrived in Taengea had been both gradual and possessive. Back in Meganea, in her borrowed chambers, they had sought the escape that came with physical abandon. Or, at least she had. Subconsciously using Iason as a numbing agent against the pain of loss and the agony of lost identity. She had sought the scary and tumultuously foreign passions of the physical body in order to forget herself.
The second time, in the fields of his father's land, it had been different. No longer fearful of her reality, Persephone had not left it behind as Iason had shown her the height of physical pleasure; it had been as real as it had been a fantasy. Yet, her lack of experience, their position in the open rural lands had been enough to spark her insecurities. Instead of a fear of the world she was attempting to abandon in moments of rebellion, that time it had been a genuine virginal nervousness.
Now, as they kissed on the terrace of what would become their home, those nerves danced along her heartstrings, still very much present. But, instead of a halting obstacle, they had become a tantalising ally to Iason's adoration. The frisson of nervousness she felt zipping through her bloodstream made her sensitive, not fearful. The safe and secure feeling that had developed between the two of them had removed the scary side of her chastity, leaving only sensitised anticipation.
Knowing that Iason had yet to experience coupling with a woman, Persephone could only hope that he was either braver than her by nature or that she engendered within him the same sense of inner peace.
Peacefulness was not the feeling guiding their behaviours however, as Iason had her once more against the wall of his home, the cold stone a harsh contrast to the growing heat of her skin. He encouraged her to lift her legs, flattening his body still closer to hers, the touch making her gasp into his mouth.
But while her skirts were for riding and were split in style, her peplos was silken and it was hard to maintain purchase on his hips when her skin slid against the fabric.
Dropping her legs from his waist and then her hands from his frame, Persephone was quick to smile and take one of his hands, her fingers linking with his. She did not wish his confidence to be knocked or for him to fear she was pulling away for any reason besides awkward garments.
"Come..." She said to him, her voice a soft instruction. "I think you should show me the rest of our home..."
She smiled brightly at the careful choice of words. For this was to now be their shared haven.
Leading the way, her fingers still entwined with his, Persephone's regal confidence returned to her, but it did not return with the icy demeanour that was its usual companion. Feeling more herself than she ever remembered feeling, Persephone drew the two of them through corridors and staircases, looking into different chambers, her eyes bright and inquisitive. She kept glancing over her shoulder, smiling back at the future husband that followed in her footsteps.
It wasn't until they reached a room, the occupation of which was unmistakeable, that Persephone's steps stilled, the skirts of her gown swirling around her legs as her momentum ceased.
It was a large chamber, with archways lining one wall that led out onto the balcony at the back of the manor. The entire room was filled with the bright sunshine of the Chaoedia lands and facing the arches that framed so spectacular a view, stood an impressive four poster bed, carved from the dark wood she had seen in the forests they had travelled through that same day.
There was nothing else in the room. Chests and furniture had clearly been packed away into storage, fabrics hidden from dust. The bed itself was covered in a gossamer sheet, transparent in the light of the dying afternoon and flittering in the breeze from outside, to protect the piece beneath from the dust of disuse.
Persephone let go of Iason's hand as she stepped out into the centre of the room, spinning slowly to embrace the entire chamber, from its high ceilings to the shining wooden floor only muted softly from lack of attention over the few months Iason had been away.
Turning back to the man before her, the man she had now consciously and whole-heartedly chosen for her own, Persephone's smile slipped... But only into an expression of intense connection that seemed more intimate than a simple smile.
Stepping towards him, unknowing of whether he would be wishing for their relationship to develop prior to their formal union, Persephone laid the palms of her hands softly upon her betrothed's chest, either side of the join of his tunic. Every action she took was calm and happened as if in slow motion, for she did not wish to pop the bubble of their intimacy, NIR have him fear that her actions were fuelled by uncontrollable bouts of emotion. She wanted him to know that this was her deliberate choice.
Without words, this time, Persephone watched Iason's expression as she took hold of the material and, with infinite slowness, pushed it out towards his shoulders, attempting to remove the garment and bear witness to the shape of the man that would be her husband...
The change between each of their moments of intimacy since Persephone had arrived in Taengea had been both gradual and possessive. Back in Meganea, in her borrowed chambers, they had sought the escape that came with physical abandon. Or, at least she had. Subconsciously using Iason as a numbing agent against the pain of loss and the agony of lost identity. She had sought the scary and tumultuously foreign passions of the physical body in order to forget herself.
The second time, in the fields of his father's land, it had been different. No longer fearful of her reality, Persephone had not left it behind as Iason had shown her the height of physical pleasure; it had been as real as it had been a fantasy. Yet, her lack of experience, their position in the open rural lands had been enough to spark her insecurities. Instead of a fear of the world she was attempting to abandon in moments of rebellion, that time it had been a genuine virginal nervousness.
Now, as they kissed on the terrace of what would become their home, those nerves danced along her heartstrings, still very much present. But, instead of a halting obstacle, they had become a tantalising ally to Iason's adoration. The frisson of nervousness she felt zipping through her bloodstream made her sensitive, not fearful. The safe and secure feeling that had developed between the two of them had removed the scary side of her chastity, leaving only sensitised anticipation.
Knowing that Iason had yet to experience coupling with a woman, Persephone could only hope that he was either braver than her by nature or that she engendered within him the same sense of inner peace.
Peacefulness was not the feeling guiding their behaviours however, as Iason had her once more against the wall of his home, the cold stone a harsh contrast to the growing heat of her skin. He encouraged her to lift her legs, flattening his body still closer to hers, the touch making her gasp into his mouth.
But while her skirts were for riding and were split in style, her peplos was silken and it was hard to maintain purchase on his hips when her skin slid against the fabric.
Dropping her legs from his waist and then her hands from his frame, Persephone was quick to smile and take one of his hands, her fingers linking with his. She did not wish his confidence to be knocked or for him to fear she was pulling away for any reason besides awkward garments.
"Come..." She said to him, her voice a soft instruction. "I think you should show me the rest of our home..."
She smiled brightly at the careful choice of words. For this was to now be their shared haven.
Leading the way, her fingers still entwined with his, Persephone's regal confidence returned to her, but it did not return with the icy demeanour that was its usual companion. Feeling more herself than she ever remembered feeling, Persephone drew the two of them through corridors and staircases, looking into different chambers, her eyes bright and inquisitive. She kept glancing over her shoulder, smiling back at the future husband that followed in her footsteps.
It wasn't until they reached a room, the occupation of which was unmistakeable, that Persephone's steps stilled, the skirts of her gown swirling around her legs as her momentum ceased.
It was a large chamber, with archways lining one wall that led out onto the balcony at the back of the manor. The entire room was filled with the bright sunshine of the Chaoedia lands and facing the arches that framed so spectacular a view, stood an impressive four poster bed, carved from the dark wood she had seen in the forests they had travelled through that same day.
There was nothing else in the room. Chests and furniture had clearly been packed away into storage, fabrics hidden from dust. The bed itself was covered in a gossamer sheet, transparent in the light of the dying afternoon and flittering in the breeze from outside, to protect the piece beneath from the dust of disuse.
Persephone let go of Iason's hand as she stepped out into the centre of the room, spinning slowly to embrace the entire chamber, from its high ceilings to the shining wooden floor only muted softly from lack of attention over the few months Iason had been away.
Turning back to the man before her, the man she had now consciously and whole-heartedly chosen for her own, Persephone's smile slipped... But only into an expression of intense connection that seemed more intimate than a simple smile.
Stepping towards him, unknowing of whether he would be wishing for their relationship to develop prior to their formal union, Persephone laid the palms of her hands softly upon her betrothed's chest, either side of the join of his tunic. Every action she took was calm and happened as if in slow motion, for she did not wish to pop the bubble of their intimacy, NIR have him fear that her actions were fuelled by uncontrollable bouts of emotion. She wanted him to know that this was her deliberate choice.
Without words, this time, Persephone watched Iason's expression as she took hold of the material and, with infinite slowness, pushed it out towards his shoulders, attempting to remove the garment and bear witness to the shape of the man that would be her husband...
The slip of the fabric against their bodies was frustrating, and though he tried to hold her up as best he could when she settled herself back on solid ground and released him he sighed as if resigned. They always stopped themselves eventually, and even as she took hold of his hand and asked him to show her the rest of their home he was trying to bring all of his focus back to functioning properly instead of through a haze of want. Bringing their twined hands back up to his lips, he brushed a soft kiss across the back of her fingertips before letting her lead him through.
Chaoedia's mansion was large and fine, but it still held an air of comfort and was nowhere near as elegant and prestigious as the palaces he'd experienced in Athenia. As they peered into various rooms and climbed the stairs, he kept hold of her hand and gave little commentary, simply allowing her to explore until they stopped outside of the room that was kept for the baron and his lady. Until they stepped through the threshold he'd been attempting to calm himself into a more acceptable frame of mind, content enough in the words they'd spoken that though he desired more that time would be upon them soon enough.
Releasing her hand as she stepped toward the balcony and took in the rest of the room that they would share, he felt a fond expression of contentment take hold. They were in no rush, there was no danger here, and no fear in the bond between them. Persephone looked for all the world as if she could belong here, walking the halls as she owned them and doing what she wished to the garden and rooms. No doubt her taste would bring them up to a higher standard than the usual Dimitrou decor.
His smile widened as she turned back to him, her palms on his chest a warm solidness that felt secure and comforting, and though his own brushed against her hips slightly, her expression held a different intent. Keeping their gazes connected, Iason's heart beat faster as she slid the fabric of his tunic aside, his smile fading to bear a matching expression of intensity to her own. If this was what she wished, he would never deny her, of that he was certain. Allowing her to expose his torso, the baron unbuckled the belt that held the garment in place and let it all fall aside. Stood before her in the riding boots and trousers he had not yet exchanged for a plain chiton, he felt that familiar heat race through him again as his chest rose and fell beneath her hands.
As if to prove the effect she had on him, Iason reached for one of her hands and guided it to the beating of his heart, increased as if they had been sprinting across the fields instead of simply standing still before one another. He had never felt the urge of desire so strongly than when he was with her, never truly understood what others were talking about when they spoke of bedding their wives and mistresses until she had come into his life. As much as he wished to tear away the remaining fabric between them, their coupled inexperience kept him slow, leaning over to catch her lips with his own again and ever so slightly drawing his teeth against the fullest part of her own.
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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The slip of the fabric against their bodies was frustrating, and though he tried to hold her up as best he could when she settled herself back on solid ground and released him he sighed as if resigned. They always stopped themselves eventually, and even as she took hold of his hand and asked him to show her the rest of their home he was trying to bring all of his focus back to functioning properly instead of through a haze of want. Bringing their twined hands back up to his lips, he brushed a soft kiss across the back of her fingertips before letting her lead him through.
Chaoedia's mansion was large and fine, but it still held an air of comfort and was nowhere near as elegant and prestigious as the palaces he'd experienced in Athenia. As they peered into various rooms and climbed the stairs, he kept hold of her hand and gave little commentary, simply allowing her to explore until they stopped outside of the room that was kept for the baron and his lady. Until they stepped through the threshold he'd been attempting to calm himself into a more acceptable frame of mind, content enough in the words they'd spoken that though he desired more that time would be upon them soon enough.
Releasing her hand as she stepped toward the balcony and took in the rest of the room that they would share, he felt a fond expression of contentment take hold. They were in no rush, there was no danger here, and no fear in the bond between them. Persephone looked for all the world as if she could belong here, walking the halls as she owned them and doing what she wished to the garden and rooms. No doubt her taste would bring them up to a higher standard than the usual Dimitrou decor.
His smile widened as she turned back to him, her palms on his chest a warm solidness that felt secure and comforting, and though his own brushed against her hips slightly, her expression held a different intent. Keeping their gazes connected, Iason's heart beat faster as she slid the fabric of his tunic aside, his smile fading to bear a matching expression of intensity to her own. If this was what she wished, he would never deny her, of that he was certain. Allowing her to expose his torso, the baron unbuckled the belt that held the garment in place and let it all fall aside. Stood before her in the riding boots and trousers he had not yet exchanged for a plain chiton, he felt that familiar heat race through him again as his chest rose and fell beneath her hands.
As if to prove the effect she had on him, Iason reached for one of her hands and guided it to the beating of his heart, increased as if they had been sprinting across the fields instead of simply standing still before one another. He had never felt the urge of desire so strongly than when he was with her, never truly understood what others were talking about when they spoke of bedding their wives and mistresses until she had come into his life. As much as he wished to tear away the remaining fabric between them, their coupled inexperience kept him slow, leaning over to catch her lips with his own again and ever so slightly drawing his teeth against the fullest part of her own.
The slip of the fabric against their bodies was frustrating, and though he tried to hold her up as best he could when she settled herself back on solid ground and released him he sighed as if resigned. They always stopped themselves eventually, and even as she took hold of his hand and asked him to show her the rest of their home he was trying to bring all of his focus back to functioning properly instead of through a haze of want. Bringing their twined hands back up to his lips, he brushed a soft kiss across the back of her fingertips before letting her lead him through.
Chaoedia's mansion was large and fine, but it still held an air of comfort and was nowhere near as elegant and prestigious as the palaces he'd experienced in Athenia. As they peered into various rooms and climbed the stairs, he kept hold of her hand and gave little commentary, simply allowing her to explore until they stopped outside of the room that was kept for the baron and his lady. Until they stepped through the threshold he'd been attempting to calm himself into a more acceptable frame of mind, content enough in the words they'd spoken that though he desired more that time would be upon them soon enough.
Releasing her hand as she stepped toward the balcony and took in the rest of the room that they would share, he felt a fond expression of contentment take hold. They were in no rush, there was no danger here, and no fear in the bond between them. Persephone looked for all the world as if she could belong here, walking the halls as she owned them and doing what she wished to the garden and rooms. No doubt her taste would bring them up to a higher standard than the usual Dimitrou decor.
His smile widened as she turned back to him, her palms on his chest a warm solidness that felt secure and comforting, and though his own brushed against her hips slightly, her expression held a different intent. Keeping their gazes connected, Iason's heart beat faster as she slid the fabric of his tunic aside, his smile fading to bear a matching expression of intensity to her own. If this was what she wished, he would never deny her, of that he was certain. Allowing her to expose his torso, the baron unbuckled the belt that held the garment in place and let it all fall aside. Stood before her in the riding boots and trousers he had not yet exchanged for a plain chiton, he felt that familiar heat race through him again as his chest rose and fell beneath her hands.
As if to prove the effect she had on him, Iason reached for one of her hands and guided it to the beating of his heart, increased as if they had been sprinting across the fields instead of simply standing still before one another. He had never felt the urge of desire so strongly than when he was with her, never truly understood what others were talking about when they spoke of bedding their wives and mistresses until she had come into his life. As much as he wished to tear away the remaining fabric between them, their coupled inexperience kept him slow, leaning over to catch her lips with his own again and ever so slightly drawing his teeth against the fullest part of her own.
Persephone watched, as Iason helped her to remove his tunic. The fabric was thick and of fine quality, despite its simple design, which meant it bunched and caught over the swells of each shoulder. He aided her by unfastening the folded belt around his waist and the sides were able to part, suddenly falling down his arms with ease and catching only upon his elbows. Now with the fabric beyond her reach, Iason finished the task by pulling his arms back and tugging the garment past his hands and to the floor.
Their gazes met in an understanding that needed few words, despite the both of them likely anxious in only the way chaste bodies could be. Her first lover dipped his head to sip from her lips, the pace of their courtship suddenly without rush or the passion they had shared downstairs. Now, with their determinations in sync and a bed in close proximity they seemed to more desire the aching edge of restraint than they did the rush of lust.
When Iason's teeth brushed against the fullness of her lower lip, Persephone's breath hitched and then exhaled across his mouth, as she sighed at the hint of roughness. She had always liked that. The earthy, honest and slightly rough essence that was Iason. Not pampered and cooly perfect like Athenian nobles. But solid, real and a little brazen around the edges.
Offering him a sofr and devoted nip of her own, Perse turned her attentions back to the torso her efforts had exposed.
As Iason took her hand and placed it against his pectoral, she felt her already pounding heart skitter in an attempt to match the heated pulse she felt beneath her palm. Her mouth went dry and her cheeks heated as she felt such clear evidence that she affected Iason as strongly as he did her. She wished her hair was down, so that it might hide her childish embarrassment but it was still in braids across her head, fastened with pins.
As her hand rested on his chest, Persephone's thumb brushed back and forth, disturbing the spattering of hair across his chest.
"Your hair here is different..." She murmured, as if to herself. "Crisper." Her fingers traced a few of the whorls against his skin, her touch following the pattern and then tracing the underside of each pectoral muscle. Her left hand came to his torso also, detailing each roll of muscle along his abdomen. Her words were a quiet murmur; an intimate caress between lovers. As soft as her travelling fingers as she explored Iason's body with a curious sense of new ownership.
As her fingers followed the line of hair from his chest to his stomach, the dark strands turned soft and silky, narrowing into a line that fell from his navel to the hem of his trousers.
Persephone glanced up to find his eyes, as her fingers started to work at unfastening his belt, slipping the leather free from its buckle and slowly untying the stays beneath. All her curiosities from before returned ten fold and she felt her tongue grow heavy in her mouth. She wanted to see him; witness the shape of male physicality that she had never seen before...
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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Persephone watched, as Iason helped her to remove his tunic. The fabric was thick and of fine quality, despite its simple design, which meant it bunched and caught over the swells of each shoulder. He aided her by unfastening the folded belt around his waist and the sides were able to part, suddenly falling down his arms with ease and catching only upon his elbows. Now with the fabric beyond her reach, Iason finished the task by pulling his arms back and tugging the garment past his hands and to the floor.
Their gazes met in an understanding that needed few words, despite the both of them likely anxious in only the way chaste bodies could be. Her first lover dipped his head to sip from her lips, the pace of their courtship suddenly without rush or the passion they had shared downstairs. Now, with their determinations in sync and a bed in close proximity they seemed to more desire the aching edge of restraint than they did the rush of lust.
When Iason's teeth brushed against the fullness of her lower lip, Persephone's breath hitched and then exhaled across his mouth, as she sighed at the hint of roughness. She had always liked that. The earthy, honest and slightly rough essence that was Iason. Not pampered and cooly perfect like Athenian nobles. But solid, real and a little brazen around the edges.
Offering him a sofr and devoted nip of her own, Perse turned her attentions back to the torso her efforts had exposed.
As Iason took her hand and placed it against his pectoral, she felt her already pounding heart skitter in an attempt to match the heated pulse she felt beneath her palm. Her mouth went dry and her cheeks heated as she felt such clear evidence that she affected Iason as strongly as he did her. She wished her hair was down, so that it might hide her childish embarrassment but it was still in braids across her head, fastened with pins.
As her hand rested on his chest, Persephone's thumb brushed back and forth, disturbing the spattering of hair across his chest.
"Your hair here is different..." She murmured, as if to herself. "Crisper." Her fingers traced a few of the whorls against his skin, her touch following the pattern and then tracing the underside of each pectoral muscle. Her left hand came to his torso also, detailing each roll of muscle along his abdomen. Her words were a quiet murmur; an intimate caress between lovers. As soft as her travelling fingers as she explored Iason's body with a curious sense of new ownership.
As her fingers followed the line of hair from his chest to his stomach, the dark strands turned soft and silky, narrowing into a line that fell from his navel to the hem of his trousers.
Persephone glanced up to find his eyes, as her fingers started to work at unfastening his belt, slipping the leather free from its buckle and slowly untying the stays beneath. All her curiosities from before returned ten fold and she felt her tongue grow heavy in her mouth. She wanted to see him; witness the shape of male physicality that she had never seen before...
Persephone watched, as Iason helped her to remove his tunic. The fabric was thick and of fine quality, despite its simple design, which meant it bunched and caught over the swells of each shoulder. He aided her by unfastening the folded belt around his waist and the sides were able to part, suddenly falling down his arms with ease and catching only upon his elbows. Now with the fabric beyond her reach, Iason finished the task by pulling his arms back and tugging the garment past his hands and to the floor.
Their gazes met in an understanding that needed few words, despite the both of them likely anxious in only the way chaste bodies could be. Her first lover dipped his head to sip from her lips, the pace of their courtship suddenly without rush or the passion they had shared downstairs. Now, with their determinations in sync and a bed in close proximity they seemed to more desire the aching edge of restraint than they did the rush of lust.
When Iason's teeth brushed against the fullness of her lower lip, Persephone's breath hitched and then exhaled across his mouth, as she sighed at the hint of roughness. She had always liked that. The earthy, honest and slightly rough essence that was Iason. Not pampered and cooly perfect like Athenian nobles. But solid, real and a little brazen around the edges.
Offering him a sofr and devoted nip of her own, Perse turned her attentions back to the torso her efforts had exposed.
As Iason took her hand and placed it against his pectoral, she felt her already pounding heart skitter in an attempt to match the heated pulse she felt beneath her palm. Her mouth went dry and her cheeks heated as she felt such clear evidence that she affected Iason as strongly as he did her. She wished her hair was down, so that it might hide her childish embarrassment but it was still in braids across her head, fastened with pins.
As her hand rested on his chest, Persephone's thumb brushed back and forth, disturbing the spattering of hair across his chest.
"Your hair here is different..." She murmured, as if to herself. "Crisper." Her fingers traced a few of the whorls against his skin, her touch following the pattern and then tracing the underside of each pectoral muscle. Her left hand came to his torso also, detailing each roll of muscle along his abdomen. Her words were a quiet murmur; an intimate caress between lovers. As soft as her travelling fingers as she explored Iason's body with a curious sense of new ownership.
As her fingers followed the line of hair from his chest to his stomach, the dark strands turned soft and silky, narrowing into a line that fell from his navel to the hem of his trousers.
Persephone glanced up to find his eyes, as her fingers started to work at unfastening his belt, slipping the leather free from its buckle and slowly untying the stays beneath. All her curiosities from before returned ten fold and she felt her tongue grow heavy in her mouth. She wanted to see him; witness the shape of male physicality that she had never seen before...