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The Flower Festival comes to Colchis! Whilst a kingdom of stone and rock that cultivates a people of similar personality traits, Colchis is no more unfeeling than any other kingdom and their lack of flora and greenery only makes celebrations like the Anthesteria even more important. A festival to celebrate new life, the Anthesteria encourages the people of the capitol to hang flowers, deck doorways in vines and drink copious amounts of wine in celebration of the God of Dionysus. It is here that children who have reached the age of four are brought forwards and celebrated, for they have escaped the years most vulnerable to infant mortality. Given wreaths of flowers to wear on their heads and offered their first taste of wine, any Anthesteria is important to the children of the kingdom. But this one operates a political and national celebration too, as the young Prince Dion - the only current heir of his generation in the House of Kotas - has reached the safety of his fourth year, alongside his distant cousins Babis and Aras of Eliades.
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The Flower Festival comes to Colchis! Whilst a kingdom of stone and rock that cultivates a people of similar personality traits, Colchis is no more unfeeling than any other kingdom and their lack of flora and greenery only makes celebrations like the Anthesteria even more important. A festival to celebrate new life, the Anthesteria encourages the people of the capitol to hang flowers, deck doorways in vines and drink copious amounts of wine in celebration of the God of Dionysus. It is here that children who have reached the age of four are brought forwards and celebrated, for they have escaped the years most vulnerable to infant mortality. Given wreaths of flowers to wear on their heads and offered their first taste of wine, any Anthesteria is important to the children of the kingdom. But this one operates a political and national celebration too, as the young Prince Dion - the only current heir of his generation in the House of Kotas - has reached the safety of his fourth year, alongside his distant cousins Babis and Aras of Eliades.
Anthesteria Provincial Story - Colchis
The Flower Festival comes to Colchis! Whilst a kingdom of stone and rock that cultivates a people of similar personality traits, Colchis is no more unfeeling than any other kingdom and their lack of flora and greenery only makes celebrations like the Anthesteria even more important. A festival to celebrate new life, the Anthesteria encourages the people of the capitol to hang flowers, deck doorways in vines and drink copious amounts of wine in celebration of the God of Dionysus. It is here that children who have reached the age of four are brought forwards and celebrated, for they have escaped the years most vulnerable to infant mortality. Given wreaths of flowers to wear on their heads and offered their first taste of wine, any Anthesteria is important to the children of the kingdom. But this one operates a political and national celebration too, as the young Prince Dion - the only current heir of his generation in the House of Kotas - has reached the safety of his fourth year, alongside his distant cousins Babis and Aras of Eliades.
Today was an exciting day for the youngest members of the Colchian royal families and little Babis of Eliades could hardly contain his excitement. He was practically bouncing off the walls of his family’s manor, running around with a sense of childish delight as he found his grandmother’s quest to catch the boy so that she may make sure that he was ready for the flower festival that his family would be attending that day.
Even though this behavior from the wild four-year-old, who was already showing signs of wanting to be an excellent runner at such a young age, was hardly acceptable under even the best of circumstances… today was different. Today, all members of the Eliades family found joy in the child’s action as this was a day to celebrate his liveliness and his strength. After all, this was the first Anthesteria event that the boys would be attending and it served as a precious milestone. Both twins, against all odds, had made it to early childhood and had escaped the scourge of infant mortality that claimed so many young ones in their world. No one had believed when the boys were born that they would be able to both see this day. Yet here they were. There was no way that there would be anything, but laughter on this day.
“Babis! Come here!” Ria called out with now sternness in her voice as she watched the boy run circles around the room for the umpteenth time. Babis only returned a laugh which turned into a squeal as a strong set of arms caught him and hauled him into the air with seemingly no effort. “Papa! Let me down!” Babis cried out in between peals of laughter as Photis launched the boy up into the air in an odd sort of game. The boy’s infectious joy filled the room, bringing smiles to the entire family as the boy’s father marched him over to his mother and sat his son down in the chair in front of her so that she may try to tame the wild mane that was his hair.
This joyous moment was just one of many that the Eliades family had shared over the years and the laughter and light chatter that coated the room was far more natural to them than most other royal houses.
Ah, the benefits of a house being built on love rather than politics…
Although it was a struggle to keep the restless child still for more than a few moments, somehow Ria was able to succeed in her task and soon enough all the Eliades family were ushered outside towards the carriages waiting to bring them into the center of the city. Knowing their tendency to explore, the boys’ hands were firmly held by an adult as they made their way outside as a safeguard against the pair of them finding a mud puddle to ruin their bright purple tunics in.
As the carriage rumbled down the cobbled roads, Babis couldn’t help but pester the adults with questions about what the event would mean for the twins and his excitement for the flower crowns and first sips of wine that had been promised continued to grow within the boy, almost to the point where his grandmother had to keep a firm grip on the child to keep him from leaping out the moment they came to a stop.
Once they were all out of the carriage, the young boy was once again lifted off the ground by his father in order to keep him from running off. Wrapping his arms around the older man’s neck, Babis whirred his head around back and forth, taking in the strange sight of all the flowers and wine jugs everywhere. His eyes light up in excitement and he squirmed in his father’s grip, clearly eager to explore. However, there were traditions that he would need to take part in and it would do the family no good if one-half of their miracle children was lost somewhere in the crowd. Traditions Babis knew would not start before the twin’s close friend and his family arrived.
“Papa,” Babis said, trying to get his dad’s attention over the noise, “Where’s Dion? Are they here yet?”
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May 18, 2019 15:00:04 GMT
Posted In Anthesteria on May 18, 2019 15:00:04 GMT
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Today was an exciting day for the youngest members of the Colchian royal families and little Babis of Eliades could hardly contain his excitement. He was practically bouncing off the walls of his family’s manor, running around with a sense of childish delight as he found his grandmother’s quest to catch the boy so that she may make sure that he was ready for the flower festival that his family would be attending that day.
Even though this behavior from the wild four-year-old, who was already showing signs of wanting to be an excellent runner at such a young age, was hardly acceptable under even the best of circumstances… today was different. Today, all members of the Eliades family found joy in the child’s action as this was a day to celebrate his liveliness and his strength. After all, this was the first Anthesteria event that the boys would be attending and it served as a precious milestone. Both twins, against all odds, had made it to early childhood and had escaped the scourge of infant mortality that claimed so many young ones in their world. No one had believed when the boys were born that they would be able to both see this day. Yet here they were. There was no way that there would be anything, but laughter on this day.
“Babis! Come here!” Ria called out with now sternness in her voice as she watched the boy run circles around the room for the umpteenth time. Babis only returned a laugh which turned into a squeal as a strong set of arms caught him and hauled him into the air with seemingly no effort. “Papa! Let me down!” Babis cried out in between peals of laughter as Photis launched the boy up into the air in an odd sort of game. The boy’s infectious joy filled the room, bringing smiles to the entire family as the boy’s father marched him over to his mother and sat his son down in the chair in front of her so that she may try to tame the wild mane that was his hair.
This joyous moment was just one of many that the Eliades family had shared over the years and the laughter and light chatter that coated the room was far more natural to them than most other royal houses.
Ah, the benefits of a house being built on love rather than politics…
Although it was a struggle to keep the restless child still for more than a few moments, somehow Ria was able to succeed in her task and soon enough all the Eliades family were ushered outside towards the carriages waiting to bring them into the center of the city. Knowing their tendency to explore, the boys’ hands were firmly held by an adult as they made their way outside as a safeguard against the pair of them finding a mud puddle to ruin their bright purple tunics in.
As the carriage rumbled down the cobbled roads, Babis couldn’t help but pester the adults with questions about what the event would mean for the twins and his excitement for the flower crowns and first sips of wine that had been promised continued to grow within the boy, almost to the point where his grandmother had to keep a firm grip on the child to keep him from leaping out the moment they came to a stop.
Once they were all out of the carriage, the young boy was once again lifted off the ground by his father in order to keep him from running off. Wrapping his arms around the older man’s neck, Babis whirred his head around back and forth, taking in the strange sight of all the flowers and wine jugs everywhere. His eyes light up in excitement and he squirmed in his father’s grip, clearly eager to explore. However, there were traditions that he would need to take part in and it would do the family no good if one-half of their miracle children was lost somewhere in the crowd. Traditions Babis knew would not start before the twin’s close friend and his family arrived.
“Papa,” Babis said, trying to get his dad’s attention over the noise, “Where’s Dion? Are they here yet?”
Today was an exciting day for the youngest members of the Colchian royal families and little Babis of Eliades could hardly contain his excitement. He was practically bouncing off the walls of his family’s manor, running around with a sense of childish delight as he found his grandmother’s quest to catch the boy so that she may make sure that he was ready for the flower festival that his family would be attending that day.
Even though this behavior from the wild four-year-old, who was already showing signs of wanting to be an excellent runner at such a young age, was hardly acceptable under even the best of circumstances… today was different. Today, all members of the Eliades family found joy in the child’s action as this was a day to celebrate his liveliness and his strength. After all, this was the first Anthesteria event that the boys would be attending and it served as a precious milestone. Both twins, against all odds, had made it to early childhood and had escaped the scourge of infant mortality that claimed so many young ones in their world. No one had believed when the boys were born that they would be able to both see this day. Yet here they were. There was no way that there would be anything, but laughter on this day.
“Babis! Come here!” Ria called out with now sternness in her voice as she watched the boy run circles around the room for the umpteenth time. Babis only returned a laugh which turned into a squeal as a strong set of arms caught him and hauled him into the air with seemingly no effort. “Papa! Let me down!” Babis cried out in between peals of laughter as Photis launched the boy up into the air in an odd sort of game. The boy’s infectious joy filled the room, bringing smiles to the entire family as the boy’s father marched him over to his mother and sat his son down in the chair in front of her so that she may try to tame the wild mane that was his hair.
This joyous moment was just one of many that the Eliades family had shared over the years and the laughter and light chatter that coated the room was far more natural to them than most other royal houses.
Ah, the benefits of a house being built on love rather than politics…
Although it was a struggle to keep the restless child still for more than a few moments, somehow Ria was able to succeed in her task and soon enough all the Eliades family were ushered outside towards the carriages waiting to bring them into the center of the city. Knowing their tendency to explore, the boys’ hands were firmly held by an adult as they made their way outside as a safeguard against the pair of them finding a mud puddle to ruin their bright purple tunics in.
As the carriage rumbled down the cobbled roads, Babis couldn’t help but pester the adults with questions about what the event would mean for the twins and his excitement for the flower crowns and first sips of wine that had been promised continued to grow within the boy, almost to the point where his grandmother had to keep a firm grip on the child to keep him from leaping out the moment they came to a stop.
Once they were all out of the carriage, the young boy was once again lifted off the ground by his father in order to keep him from running off. Wrapping his arms around the older man’s neck, Babis whirred his head around back and forth, taking in the strange sight of all the flowers and wine jugs everywhere. His eyes light up in excitement and he squirmed in his father’s grip, clearly eager to explore. However, there were traditions that he would need to take part in and it would do the family no good if one-half of their miracle children was lost somewhere in the crowd. Traditions Babis knew would not start before the twin’s close friend and his family arrived.
“Papa,” Babis said, trying to get his dad’s attention over the noise, “Where’s Dion? Are they here yet?”
Aras was four!
The concept itself did not seem all that exciting in theory, but in practice, it was quite the miracle. Not so many children made it to the age of four and, despite the twins being from a noble household that was certainly not as short on funds as many of the less fortunate in the city, the fact that not one but two infants had survived to such an age was close to extraordinary (especially given how complicated the birth must have been). It was a statement that the boys had heard countless times today already, and it was only multiplying their excitement for the occasion tenfold.
The older of the twins couldn’t decide which part of the festivities he was the most excited for, and had flitted around the house all morning in a tireless mirror of his brother announcing just that. One minute it was the wine tasting at the forefront of his mind and, the next it was the flower crown, and every so often it was the reminder that the twins’ closest friend Prince Dion would be present as well. Though they were still so young and unlikely to be permitted to wander too far from the watching eyes of their parents, there was still a pleasure in the idea that they might be able to spend some time with the other boy.
Babis had always been the more talkative and rambunctious of the pair, and Aras let him take the lead as the family travelled to the celebration, too distracted by the way the carriage bumped on the roads to speak. His mind was filled with concerns and panics that something might happen and they might never make it to the festivity - a worry that the carriage might get stuck in the cobbles and flip over, and the family might be lost - but Mama had seen it in his eyes and reached over to pat his arm gently. The older of her sons had recently developed a paranoia which gave way to endless fears, and she had become well accustomed to reassuring him when something was evidently starting to terrify him. Too much excitement tended to have a negative effect on the boy.
”Aras. It’s going to be alright. You’re a big, brave boy. Just relax and enjoy the Anthesteria, hm?” she smiled at him, her arm wrapping around the shoulder of the boy beside her and squeezing him close in a reassuring move. He could not help but smile a little, mind temporarily at rest. It was a long enough reassurance that the carriage wheeled to a stop and the group finally exited. This was it! Now Aras was finally going to have his opportunity to drink some wine and wear his flower crown and run around with his brother and Dion. This was set to be the best day ever.
He clung to Mama’s hand while his brother was heaved onto their father’s shoulders (heights had become a new fear for him), gaze still shifting over every single thing that might be new to him. Though Aras wanted to be let go and be permitted to run wild, he didn’t loosen his grip, only looking up Papa when Babis asked his question. He could not see Dion just yet, but his twin had the better vantage point of the pair, and there seemed little chance that Aras would somehow be able to spot the young prince before the other.
”Babs!” he called up to his brother, not fully able to pronounce the other’s name just yet. There were a few words he had not entirely grasped. ”What can you see?”
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May 18, 2019 15:00:45 GMT
Posted In Anthesteria on May 18, 2019 15:00:45 GMT
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Aras was four!
The concept itself did not seem all that exciting in theory, but in practice, it was quite the miracle. Not so many children made it to the age of four and, despite the twins being from a noble household that was certainly not as short on funds as many of the less fortunate in the city, the fact that not one but two infants had survived to such an age was close to extraordinary (especially given how complicated the birth must have been). It was a statement that the boys had heard countless times today already, and it was only multiplying their excitement for the occasion tenfold.
The older of the twins couldn’t decide which part of the festivities he was the most excited for, and had flitted around the house all morning in a tireless mirror of his brother announcing just that. One minute it was the wine tasting at the forefront of his mind and, the next it was the flower crown, and every so often it was the reminder that the twins’ closest friend Prince Dion would be present as well. Though they were still so young and unlikely to be permitted to wander too far from the watching eyes of their parents, there was still a pleasure in the idea that they might be able to spend some time with the other boy.
Babis had always been the more talkative and rambunctious of the pair, and Aras let him take the lead as the family travelled to the celebration, too distracted by the way the carriage bumped on the roads to speak. His mind was filled with concerns and panics that something might happen and they might never make it to the festivity - a worry that the carriage might get stuck in the cobbles and flip over, and the family might be lost - but Mama had seen it in his eyes and reached over to pat his arm gently. The older of her sons had recently developed a paranoia which gave way to endless fears, and she had become well accustomed to reassuring him when something was evidently starting to terrify him. Too much excitement tended to have a negative effect on the boy.
”Aras. It’s going to be alright. You’re a big, brave boy. Just relax and enjoy the Anthesteria, hm?” she smiled at him, her arm wrapping around the shoulder of the boy beside her and squeezing him close in a reassuring move. He could not help but smile a little, mind temporarily at rest. It was a long enough reassurance that the carriage wheeled to a stop and the group finally exited. This was it! Now Aras was finally going to have his opportunity to drink some wine and wear his flower crown and run around with his brother and Dion. This was set to be the best day ever.
He clung to Mama’s hand while his brother was heaved onto their father’s shoulders (heights had become a new fear for him), gaze still shifting over every single thing that might be new to him. Though Aras wanted to be let go and be permitted to run wild, he didn’t loosen his grip, only looking up Papa when Babis asked his question. He could not see Dion just yet, but his twin had the better vantage point of the pair, and there seemed little chance that Aras would somehow be able to spot the young prince before the other.
”Babs!” he called up to his brother, not fully able to pronounce the other’s name just yet. There were a few words he had not entirely grasped. ”What can you see?”
Aras was four!
The concept itself did not seem all that exciting in theory, but in practice, it was quite the miracle. Not so many children made it to the age of four and, despite the twins being from a noble household that was certainly not as short on funds as many of the less fortunate in the city, the fact that not one but two infants had survived to such an age was close to extraordinary (especially given how complicated the birth must have been). It was a statement that the boys had heard countless times today already, and it was only multiplying their excitement for the occasion tenfold.
The older of the twins couldn’t decide which part of the festivities he was the most excited for, and had flitted around the house all morning in a tireless mirror of his brother announcing just that. One minute it was the wine tasting at the forefront of his mind and, the next it was the flower crown, and every so often it was the reminder that the twins’ closest friend Prince Dion would be present as well. Though they were still so young and unlikely to be permitted to wander too far from the watching eyes of their parents, there was still a pleasure in the idea that they might be able to spend some time with the other boy.
Babis had always been the more talkative and rambunctious of the pair, and Aras let him take the lead as the family travelled to the celebration, too distracted by the way the carriage bumped on the roads to speak. His mind was filled with concerns and panics that something might happen and they might never make it to the festivity - a worry that the carriage might get stuck in the cobbles and flip over, and the family might be lost - but Mama had seen it in his eyes and reached over to pat his arm gently. The older of her sons had recently developed a paranoia which gave way to endless fears, and she had become well accustomed to reassuring him when something was evidently starting to terrify him. Too much excitement tended to have a negative effect on the boy.
”Aras. It’s going to be alright. You’re a big, brave boy. Just relax and enjoy the Anthesteria, hm?” she smiled at him, her arm wrapping around the shoulder of the boy beside her and squeezing him close in a reassuring move. He could not help but smile a little, mind temporarily at rest. It was a long enough reassurance that the carriage wheeled to a stop and the group finally exited. This was it! Now Aras was finally going to have his opportunity to drink some wine and wear his flower crown and run around with his brother and Dion. This was set to be the best day ever.
He clung to Mama’s hand while his brother was heaved onto their father’s shoulders (heights had become a new fear for him), gaze still shifting over every single thing that might be new to him. Though Aras wanted to be let go and be permitted to run wild, he didn’t loosen his grip, only looking up Papa when Babis asked his question. He could not see Dion just yet, but his twin had the better vantage point of the pair, and there seemed little chance that Aras would somehow be able to spot the young prince before the other.
”Babs!” he called up to his brother, not fully able to pronounce the other’s name just yet. There were a few words he had not entirely grasped. ”What can you see?”
The foyer was open, freshly polished, highly looked after (despite his lack of presence in Midas to keep things running smoothly) but it was, unfortunately, entirely empty.
Apparently, despite his brother managing to successfully handle matters of law and noble order in his absences away from home and in war campaigns, he was not so able to maintain to a regime or order. Of course, this was only in Vangelis' head and not an accurate representation of his family's "tardiness". Vangelis was just early. As he always was. Earliness kept you alive in battle. And whilst his other brothers all knew this well, also, Silas was too younger to have fully trained that part of himself yet, Zanon had slipped into a more political role here in the capital since his injury, and Yiannis... well Yiannis never followed the rules anyway...
Vangelis tugged at his raiment in annoyance. If he had let himself be honest, he would have accepted that his annoyance had more to do with his garments and general situation than with the fact that his family were - according to his military mind - taking too long.
Having been back in Midas for a few weeks after his last trip to the North, Vangelis had returned without his father as the King had remained in order to station and settle a new encampment. He had sent Vangelis home after a serious gash had been inflicted to the back of his son's knee. It hadn't been a life-threatening injury by any means, but it had impaired movement for the weeks it took to heel and, when out in enemy territory, one had to be prepared to defend their own life at any second. He had been sent home to recover in a safer setting.
Now, of course, he was perfectly fine. But as his father was unable to return home yet and attend his grandson's first Anthesteria, Vangelis had assured his father by letter that he would stand in for the King and perform his role appropriately.
Unfortunately, as he was duly reminded by his mother, this meant that Vangelis would be unable to wear his normal, casual attire. Whilst he had never shied away from being open in his choice of clothing - even at public events - this one was to be slightly more formal. Not only was it a festival for the people, but an open accepting of a new generation - of the boys and girls of Colchis who had survived to their fourth year. Meaning that they would, in all likeliness, continue to thrive into adulthood and be those that shouldered the future of Colchis.
Vangelis' own nephew was among those children. And, as he himself had yet to marry or produce an heir, that meant that the only heir to the throne of that generation, was now into the safe years of his childhood. It was a momentous occasion for everyone in Colchis - those with children and those without. And it had a strong political implication. Which meant that he had to attend as the political figure that he was.
Which left him standing in his family's foyer, in a floor length chiton in a creamy white, the edges decorated in brown silk and gold threading. A himation of deepest maroon was thrown and fastened around his shoulders and hung down his back like a cap. Beneath the length of the gown, Vangelis had switched out his boots for sandals in black leather, strapped up to his knees. Golden braces were attached to the front and sides of the leather pieces and he wore matching bracers on his forearms. His hair, which had grown long enough to tie back again, hung loose around his ears, cheeks and a little down the back of his neck. On his thick locks rested a spiked circlet that defined his rank as Crown Prince.
Vangelis felt absolutely absurd.
He exhaled through his nose in announce as he hefted the himation and adjusted at his bracers, catching the eye of a servant and sending them to see what was taking Prince Zanon, Lady Evras and Prince Dion so long. Not to mention his other siblings... He wanted to celebrate for his nephew. But he also wanted out of the fine, trussed up clothing as soon as possible.
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May 18, 2019 15:01:36 GMT
Posted In Anthesteria on May 18, 2019 15:01:36 GMT
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The foyer was open, freshly polished, highly looked after (despite his lack of presence in Midas to keep things running smoothly) but it was, unfortunately, entirely empty.
Apparently, despite his brother managing to successfully handle matters of law and noble order in his absences away from home and in war campaigns, he was not so able to maintain to a regime or order. Of course, this was only in Vangelis' head and not an accurate representation of his family's "tardiness". Vangelis was just early. As he always was. Earliness kept you alive in battle. And whilst his other brothers all knew this well, also, Silas was too younger to have fully trained that part of himself yet, Zanon had slipped into a more political role here in the capital since his injury, and Yiannis... well Yiannis never followed the rules anyway...
Vangelis tugged at his raiment in annoyance. If he had let himself be honest, he would have accepted that his annoyance had more to do with his garments and general situation than with the fact that his family were - according to his military mind - taking too long.
Having been back in Midas for a few weeks after his last trip to the North, Vangelis had returned without his father as the King had remained in order to station and settle a new encampment. He had sent Vangelis home after a serious gash had been inflicted to the back of his son's knee. It hadn't been a life-threatening injury by any means, but it had impaired movement for the weeks it took to heel and, when out in enemy territory, one had to be prepared to defend their own life at any second. He had been sent home to recover in a safer setting.
Now, of course, he was perfectly fine. But as his father was unable to return home yet and attend his grandson's first Anthesteria, Vangelis had assured his father by letter that he would stand in for the King and perform his role appropriately.
Unfortunately, as he was duly reminded by his mother, this meant that Vangelis would be unable to wear his normal, casual attire. Whilst he had never shied away from being open in his choice of clothing - even at public events - this one was to be slightly more formal. Not only was it a festival for the people, but an open accepting of a new generation - of the boys and girls of Colchis who had survived to their fourth year. Meaning that they would, in all likeliness, continue to thrive into adulthood and be those that shouldered the future of Colchis.
Vangelis' own nephew was among those children. And, as he himself had yet to marry or produce an heir, that meant that the only heir to the throne of that generation, was now into the safe years of his childhood. It was a momentous occasion for everyone in Colchis - those with children and those without. And it had a strong political implication. Which meant that he had to attend as the political figure that he was.
Which left him standing in his family's foyer, in a floor length chiton in a creamy white, the edges decorated in brown silk and gold threading. A himation of deepest maroon was thrown and fastened around his shoulders and hung down his back like a cap. Beneath the length of the gown, Vangelis had switched out his boots for sandals in black leather, strapped up to his knees. Golden braces were attached to the front and sides of the leather pieces and he wore matching bracers on his forearms. His hair, which had grown long enough to tie back again, hung loose around his ears, cheeks and a little down the back of his neck. On his thick locks rested a spiked circlet that defined his rank as Crown Prince.
Vangelis felt absolutely absurd.
He exhaled through his nose in announce as he hefted the himation and adjusted at his bracers, catching the eye of a servant and sending them to see what was taking Prince Zanon, Lady Evras and Prince Dion so long. Not to mention his other siblings... He wanted to celebrate for his nephew. But he also wanted out of the fine, trussed up clothing as soon as possible.
The foyer was open, freshly polished, highly looked after (despite his lack of presence in Midas to keep things running smoothly) but it was, unfortunately, entirely empty.
Apparently, despite his brother managing to successfully handle matters of law and noble order in his absences away from home and in war campaigns, he was not so able to maintain to a regime or order. Of course, this was only in Vangelis' head and not an accurate representation of his family's "tardiness". Vangelis was just early. As he always was. Earliness kept you alive in battle. And whilst his other brothers all knew this well, also, Silas was too younger to have fully trained that part of himself yet, Zanon had slipped into a more political role here in the capital since his injury, and Yiannis... well Yiannis never followed the rules anyway...
Vangelis tugged at his raiment in annoyance. If he had let himself be honest, he would have accepted that his annoyance had more to do with his garments and general situation than with the fact that his family were - according to his military mind - taking too long.
Having been back in Midas for a few weeks after his last trip to the North, Vangelis had returned without his father as the King had remained in order to station and settle a new encampment. He had sent Vangelis home after a serious gash had been inflicted to the back of his son's knee. It hadn't been a life-threatening injury by any means, but it had impaired movement for the weeks it took to heel and, when out in enemy territory, one had to be prepared to defend their own life at any second. He had been sent home to recover in a safer setting.
Now, of course, he was perfectly fine. But as his father was unable to return home yet and attend his grandson's first Anthesteria, Vangelis had assured his father by letter that he would stand in for the King and perform his role appropriately.
Unfortunately, as he was duly reminded by his mother, this meant that Vangelis would be unable to wear his normal, casual attire. Whilst he had never shied away from being open in his choice of clothing - even at public events - this one was to be slightly more formal. Not only was it a festival for the people, but an open accepting of a new generation - of the boys and girls of Colchis who had survived to their fourth year. Meaning that they would, in all likeliness, continue to thrive into adulthood and be those that shouldered the future of Colchis.
Vangelis' own nephew was among those children. And, as he himself had yet to marry or produce an heir, that meant that the only heir to the throne of that generation, was now into the safe years of his childhood. It was a momentous occasion for everyone in Colchis - those with children and those without. And it had a strong political implication. Which meant that he had to attend as the political figure that he was.
Which left him standing in his family's foyer, in a floor length chiton in a creamy white, the edges decorated in brown silk and gold threading. A himation of deepest maroon was thrown and fastened around his shoulders and hung down his back like a cap. Beneath the length of the gown, Vangelis had switched out his boots for sandals in black leather, strapped up to his knees. Golden braces were attached to the front and sides of the leather pieces and he wore matching bracers on his forearms. His hair, which had grown long enough to tie back again, hung loose around his ears, cheeks and a little down the back of his neck. On his thick locks rested a spiked circlet that defined his rank as Crown Prince.
Vangelis felt absolutely absurd.
He exhaled through his nose in announce as he hefted the himation and adjusted at his bracers, catching the eye of a servant and sending them to see what was taking Prince Zanon, Lady Evras and Prince Dion so long. Not to mention his other siblings... He wanted to celebrate for his nephew. But he also wanted out of the fine, trussed up clothing as soon as possible.
Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. With each jump Dion willed himself to go higher. He wondered if he could actually touch the ceiling of his room if he jumped hard enough. He knew if he was caught though there would be angry words and punishment, but that did not make him stop. This was his day, and it belonged to his two best comrades as well.
I wonder what Babis and Aras are doing? Are they just as excited as I am? Who else will be there? It was very hard for the young Kotas Prince to keep his mind focused on anything for long, but today this was his obsession. Will they bring Vang of the Four Paws with them or leave him at home?
He had helped with decorating the doorways in the traditional vines. He loved doing anything that had to do with plant life, much to his father's dislike and there was much worry that he would learn of the plants the things that made people cry witch! even though it was something that his mother and his aunts were well know for. This was his first Anthesteria and he was going to enjoy it.
At the sound of footsteps outside of his door, he pause in d in his jumping, looked in the direction of the door, a defiant look on his face ready to face off with whomever chose to disturb him at this very moment. He resumed jumping when he realized that it was only one of the servants, who gave him a glance of displeasure before moving off to choose his clothing for the event and see that a bath was prepared. Dion screwed up his face and then stuck out his tongue in toddler-ish defiance.
It was a close call with the edge of the bed that made him pull up short on a jump and he landed on his bed rear end first and his cot gave an indignant bounce in protest.
The servant came back with his breakfast and set the tray on his lap while he gave her a glare that said [/i]You say one word......[/i] The servant nodded and then said My lord, I will be getting your clothes ready while you eat. Dion gave an imperious wave and then dug into his breakfast with gusto, and making a mess of himself in the process, much to the dismay of his servant
Once he was finished and stuffed like a happy bird, he was bathed and then dressed in his finest chiton that was white in color, the edges decorated with a mix of birds and arrows. Over that, a himation of a pale wine colored cloth , A crown of flowers was dropped on his raven curls. Once the servant was sure that he looked presentable enough, Dion was led to the area where his uncle Vangelis was waiting.
At the sight of his uncle he took off running , leaving the servant to follow behind carrying the young Prince's sandals. Dion stopped short and looked around for his parents and the rest of his family. Where were they?
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May 18, 2019 15:02:29 GMT
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Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. With each jump Dion willed himself to go higher. He wondered if he could actually touch the ceiling of his room if he jumped hard enough. He knew if he was caught though there would be angry words and punishment, but that did not make him stop. This was his day, and it belonged to his two best comrades as well.
I wonder what Babis and Aras are doing? Are they just as excited as I am? Who else will be there? It was very hard for the young Kotas Prince to keep his mind focused on anything for long, but today this was his obsession. Will they bring Vang of the Four Paws with them or leave him at home?
He had helped with decorating the doorways in the traditional vines. He loved doing anything that had to do with plant life, much to his father's dislike and there was much worry that he would learn of the plants the things that made people cry witch! even though it was something that his mother and his aunts were well know for. This was his first Anthesteria and he was going to enjoy it.
At the sound of footsteps outside of his door, he pause in d in his jumping, looked in the direction of the door, a defiant look on his face ready to face off with whomever chose to disturb him at this very moment. He resumed jumping when he realized that it was only one of the servants, who gave him a glance of displeasure before moving off to choose his clothing for the event and see that a bath was prepared. Dion screwed up his face and then stuck out his tongue in toddler-ish defiance.
It was a close call with the edge of the bed that made him pull up short on a jump and he landed on his bed rear end first and his cot gave an indignant bounce in protest.
The servant came back with his breakfast and set the tray on his lap while he gave her a glare that said [/i]You say one word......[/i] The servant nodded and then said My lord, I will be getting your clothes ready while you eat. Dion gave an imperious wave and then dug into his breakfast with gusto, and making a mess of himself in the process, much to the dismay of his servant
Once he was finished and stuffed like a happy bird, he was bathed and then dressed in his finest chiton that was white in color, the edges decorated with a mix of birds and arrows. Over that, a himation of a pale wine colored cloth , A crown of flowers was dropped on his raven curls. Once the servant was sure that he looked presentable enough, Dion was led to the area where his uncle Vangelis was waiting.
At the sight of his uncle he took off running , leaving the servant to follow behind carrying the young Prince's sandals. Dion stopped short and looked around for his parents and the rest of his family. Where were they?
Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. With each jump Dion willed himself to go higher. He wondered if he could actually touch the ceiling of his room if he jumped hard enough. He knew if he was caught though there would be angry words and punishment, but that did not make him stop. This was his day, and it belonged to his two best comrades as well.
I wonder what Babis and Aras are doing? Are they just as excited as I am? Who else will be there? It was very hard for the young Kotas Prince to keep his mind focused on anything for long, but today this was his obsession. Will they bring Vang of the Four Paws with them or leave him at home?
He had helped with decorating the doorways in the traditional vines. He loved doing anything that had to do with plant life, much to his father's dislike and there was much worry that he would learn of the plants the things that made people cry witch! even though it was something that his mother and his aunts were well know for. This was his first Anthesteria and he was going to enjoy it.
At the sound of footsteps outside of his door, he pause in d in his jumping, looked in the direction of the door, a defiant look on his face ready to face off with whomever chose to disturb him at this very moment. He resumed jumping when he realized that it was only one of the servants, who gave him a glance of displeasure before moving off to choose his clothing for the event and see that a bath was prepared. Dion screwed up his face and then stuck out his tongue in toddler-ish defiance.
It was a close call with the edge of the bed that made him pull up short on a jump and he landed on his bed rear end first and his cot gave an indignant bounce in protest.
The servant came back with his breakfast and set the tray on his lap while he gave her a glare that said [/i]You say one word......[/i] The servant nodded and then said My lord, I will be getting your clothes ready while you eat. Dion gave an imperious wave and then dug into his breakfast with gusto, and making a mess of himself in the process, much to the dismay of his servant
Once he was finished and stuffed like a happy bird, he was bathed and then dressed in his finest chiton that was white in color, the edges decorated with a mix of birds and arrows. Over that, a himation of a pale wine colored cloth , A crown of flowers was dropped on his raven curls. Once the servant was sure that he looked presentable enough, Dion was led to the area where his uncle Vangelis was waiting.
At the sight of his uncle he took off running , leaving the servant to follow behind carrying the young Prince's sandals. Dion stopped short and looked around for his parents and the rest of his family. Where were they?
Whoever said things got easier as the years went by, simply did not know what they were talking about. There wasn't exactly a guide written out for this, nor was there a definite someone she could seek guidance from, was there? She had no mother to turn to, and everyone else gave her advice that differed so wildly from each other, Evras really wasn't always sure who to follow. Sure, Queen Yanni was her mother-in-law, and technically she should trust the Queen's words the most... but for a woman juggling learning to be a princess, a wife and a mother at the same time, things were not exactly smooth sailing for Evras at the moment.
Luckily for her though, the pale princess had a bevy of servants at her beck and call, one of the few upsides she has had to experience ever since her marriage to her husband. Despite so however, Evras did not want to be an absentee mother, and as such did her best to be there for her young son as much as possible in the first few formative years of his life. It was only in the last few months or so, that she's allowed the nanny to take on more responsibilities, as she slowly shifted back to focus on herself.
That being said however, the Anthesteria was a significant affair in Dion's life, and she definitely had to be hands on for that. Which would explain why, when the time came for them to depart from the Kotas manor to the location where the kids at the age of four would receive their wreath, Evras was still being trussed in her room. Her chiton was fastened to her body, a dress that was a mix of maroon silk and white. The fibulae of a bear's head was fastened over one shoulder, the other left bare. The material covered all the way to her feet, where a pair of golden sandals with laces wound halfway up her calf. Her maids were still curling her hair as they brought accessories for her to approve of - a snake bangle fastened to her upper arms, and looser gold chains on her wrist. A golden chain belt was tightened around her waist, and the finale saw her small, fine circlet placed on the top of her head, vines wound around it, before she was finally ready to head down.
The descent was quick, and Evras saw the flash of a running young body just as she got to the last step. The princess froze to avoid a collision of bodies, just in time for a servant holding a pair of sandals to stop short so as to give Evras a hurried bow. A quick glance was enough for the Thanasi sister to know who the sandals belonged to, and she muffled a laugh, before taking the sandals from the servant and waving them off.
Turning to where her son had ran to, Evras held up the sandals, and called out in a mildly sing-song voice, "Dion, did you forget something?"
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May 18, 2019 15:03:04 GMT
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Whoever said things got easier as the years went by, simply did not know what they were talking about. There wasn't exactly a guide written out for this, nor was there a definite someone she could seek guidance from, was there? She had no mother to turn to, and everyone else gave her advice that differed so wildly from each other, Evras really wasn't always sure who to follow. Sure, Queen Yanni was her mother-in-law, and technically she should trust the Queen's words the most... but for a woman juggling learning to be a princess, a wife and a mother at the same time, things were not exactly smooth sailing for Evras at the moment.
Luckily for her though, the pale princess had a bevy of servants at her beck and call, one of the few upsides she has had to experience ever since her marriage to her husband. Despite so however, Evras did not want to be an absentee mother, and as such did her best to be there for her young son as much as possible in the first few formative years of his life. It was only in the last few months or so, that she's allowed the nanny to take on more responsibilities, as she slowly shifted back to focus on herself.
That being said however, the Anthesteria was a significant affair in Dion's life, and she definitely had to be hands on for that. Which would explain why, when the time came for them to depart from the Kotas manor to the location where the kids at the age of four would receive their wreath, Evras was still being trussed in her room. Her chiton was fastened to her body, a dress that was a mix of maroon silk and white. The fibulae of a bear's head was fastened over one shoulder, the other left bare. The material covered all the way to her feet, where a pair of golden sandals with laces wound halfway up her calf. Her maids were still curling her hair as they brought accessories for her to approve of - a snake bangle fastened to her upper arms, and looser gold chains on her wrist. A golden chain belt was tightened around her waist, and the finale saw her small, fine circlet placed on the top of her head, vines wound around it, before she was finally ready to head down.
The descent was quick, and Evras saw the flash of a running young body just as she got to the last step. The princess froze to avoid a collision of bodies, just in time for a servant holding a pair of sandals to stop short so as to give Evras a hurried bow. A quick glance was enough for the Thanasi sister to know who the sandals belonged to, and she muffled a laugh, before taking the sandals from the servant and waving them off.
Turning to where her son had ran to, Evras held up the sandals, and called out in a mildly sing-song voice, "Dion, did you forget something?"
Whoever said things got easier as the years went by, simply did not know what they were talking about. There wasn't exactly a guide written out for this, nor was there a definite someone she could seek guidance from, was there? She had no mother to turn to, and everyone else gave her advice that differed so wildly from each other, Evras really wasn't always sure who to follow. Sure, Queen Yanni was her mother-in-law, and technically she should trust the Queen's words the most... but for a woman juggling learning to be a princess, a wife and a mother at the same time, things were not exactly smooth sailing for Evras at the moment.
Luckily for her though, the pale princess had a bevy of servants at her beck and call, one of the few upsides she has had to experience ever since her marriage to her husband. Despite so however, Evras did not want to be an absentee mother, and as such did her best to be there for her young son as much as possible in the first few formative years of his life. It was only in the last few months or so, that she's allowed the nanny to take on more responsibilities, as she slowly shifted back to focus on herself.
That being said however, the Anthesteria was a significant affair in Dion's life, and she definitely had to be hands on for that. Which would explain why, when the time came for them to depart from the Kotas manor to the location where the kids at the age of four would receive their wreath, Evras was still being trussed in her room. Her chiton was fastened to her body, a dress that was a mix of maroon silk and white. The fibulae of a bear's head was fastened over one shoulder, the other left bare. The material covered all the way to her feet, where a pair of golden sandals with laces wound halfway up her calf. Her maids were still curling her hair as they brought accessories for her to approve of - a snake bangle fastened to her upper arms, and looser gold chains on her wrist. A golden chain belt was tightened around her waist, and the finale saw her small, fine circlet placed on the top of her head, vines wound around it, before she was finally ready to head down.
The descent was quick, and Evras saw the flash of a running young body just as she got to the last step. The princess froze to avoid a collision of bodies, just in time for a servant holding a pair of sandals to stop short so as to give Evras a hurried bow. A quick glance was enough for the Thanasi sister to know who the sandals belonged to, and she muffled a laugh, before taking the sandals from the servant and waving them off.
Turning to where her son had ran to, Evras held up the sandals, and called out in a mildly sing-song voice, "Dion, did you forget something?"
Mihail was not often keen on these festivals. He may have only been sixteen, but he had developed a significant reputation for being the member of his family who least attended these events, instead preferring to remain hidden away within his chambers away from the bustle of the court. It was an almost passive-aggressive action against the family into which his sister had married: the Thanasi boy was still young, and, although he naturally understood the political benefits of the union and his sister's love behind it, he was as untrusting of the Kotas family as others were of his own.
Nonetheless, his distaste for the ruling family aside, he did care quite genuinely for his young nephew. Perhaps it was because the child resembled his maternal family more than his paternal, or maybe it was due to an inherent desire to ensure that the boy was raised with the values he considered ideal (especially given the possibility that he might well take the throne someday), but Mihail had a less-than-subtle soft spot for Dion. The fact that he had reached the age of four without struggle was just as exciting a piece of news for him as it was for the rest of the kingdom of Colchis, and it was hence irrefutable that he would have to attend.
He was not overly dressed for the celebration, only wearing a deep red chiton and equally dark himation over it. It would not do to be more extravagant in appearance than those who were being lauded, meaning that the most excessive part of his outfit was his light jewellery and the gift he had brought for his nephew. It was arguably a controversial present for such a young boy, but Mihail had taken necessary precautions, and the training bow he carried was child-sized, made of dark wood and decorated with the letters of his name carefully carved in. It was not precisely the best-selected gift for a four-year-old who had not yet fully mastered his coordination, but it would doubtless come in useful when Dion was older, and Mihail sincerely hoped he would be able to teach the boy exactly how best to use it when the time came.
Mihail had made his way to the festival alone, not having considered it the kind of function the majority of his siblings would have been interested in, and hence not bothering to await them before he had departed the Thanasi home. When he had arrived, it had not appeared that his youngest sister nor her newly-formed family were present just yet and, thus, he had taken a goblet of the wine which was being passed around so freely, and disappeared to await their arrival outside of the main buzz of excitement, not entirely wishing to worry anybody too significantly, given the small yet noticeable weapon he carried.
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May 18, 2019 15:03:31 GMT
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Mihail was not often keen on these festivals. He may have only been sixteen, but he had developed a significant reputation for being the member of his family who least attended these events, instead preferring to remain hidden away within his chambers away from the bustle of the court. It was an almost passive-aggressive action against the family into which his sister had married: the Thanasi boy was still young, and, although he naturally understood the political benefits of the union and his sister's love behind it, he was as untrusting of the Kotas family as others were of his own.
Nonetheless, his distaste for the ruling family aside, he did care quite genuinely for his young nephew. Perhaps it was because the child resembled his maternal family more than his paternal, or maybe it was due to an inherent desire to ensure that the boy was raised with the values he considered ideal (especially given the possibility that he might well take the throne someday), but Mihail had a less-than-subtle soft spot for Dion. The fact that he had reached the age of four without struggle was just as exciting a piece of news for him as it was for the rest of the kingdom of Colchis, and it was hence irrefutable that he would have to attend.
He was not overly dressed for the celebration, only wearing a deep red chiton and equally dark himation over it. It would not do to be more extravagant in appearance than those who were being lauded, meaning that the most excessive part of his outfit was his light jewellery and the gift he had brought for his nephew. It was arguably a controversial present for such a young boy, but Mihail had taken necessary precautions, and the training bow he carried was child-sized, made of dark wood and decorated with the letters of his name carefully carved in. It was not precisely the best-selected gift for a four-year-old who had not yet fully mastered his coordination, but it would doubtless come in useful when Dion was older, and Mihail sincerely hoped he would be able to teach the boy exactly how best to use it when the time came.
Mihail had made his way to the festival alone, not having considered it the kind of function the majority of his siblings would have been interested in, and hence not bothering to await them before he had departed the Thanasi home. When he had arrived, it had not appeared that his youngest sister nor her newly-formed family were present just yet and, thus, he had taken a goblet of the wine which was being passed around so freely, and disappeared to await their arrival outside of the main buzz of excitement, not entirely wishing to worry anybody too significantly, given the small yet noticeable weapon he carried.
Mihail was not often keen on these festivals. He may have only been sixteen, but he had developed a significant reputation for being the member of his family who least attended these events, instead preferring to remain hidden away within his chambers away from the bustle of the court. It was an almost passive-aggressive action against the family into which his sister had married: the Thanasi boy was still young, and, although he naturally understood the political benefits of the union and his sister's love behind it, he was as untrusting of the Kotas family as others were of his own.
Nonetheless, his distaste for the ruling family aside, he did care quite genuinely for his young nephew. Perhaps it was because the child resembled his maternal family more than his paternal, or maybe it was due to an inherent desire to ensure that the boy was raised with the values he considered ideal (especially given the possibility that he might well take the throne someday), but Mihail had a less-than-subtle soft spot for Dion. The fact that he had reached the age of four without struggle was just as exciting a piece of news for him as it was for the rest of the kingdom of Colchis, and it was hence irrefutable that he would have to attend.
He was not overly dressed for the celebration, only wearing a deep red chiton and equally dark himation over it. It would not do to be more extravagant in appearance than those who were being lauded, meaning that the most excessive part of his outfit was his light jewellery and the gift he had brought for his nephew. It was arguably a controversial present for such a young boy, but Mihail had taken necessary precautions, and the training bow he carried was child-sized, made of dark wood and decorated with the letters of his name carefully carved in. It was not precisely the best-selected gift for a four-year-old who had not yet fully mastered his coordination, but it would doubtless come in useful when Dion was older, and Mihail sincerely hoped he would be able to teach the boy exactly how best to use it when the time came.
Mihail had made his way to the festival alone, not having considered it the kind of function the majority of his siblings would have been interested in, and hence not bothering to await them before he had departed the Thanasi home. When he had arrived, it had not appeared that his youngest sister nor her newly-formed family were present just yet and, thus, he had taken a goblet of the wine which was being passed around so freely, and disappeared to await their arrival outside of the main buzz of excitement, not entirely wishing to worry anybody too significantly, given the small yet noticeable weapon he carried.
Dion stopped and turned at his mother's familliar voice. He broke into laughetr as she held up his sandals. Yes he had indeed forgotten them and he was sure that his personal servant would remember what he forgot, because that was their job.
He took his sandals from his mothers fingers and had the good graces to blush a deep pink in the embaressment of having to be reminded about them in public.He moved over and found a place to plop down and attempt to but them on by himself like a big boy. He focused and stuck out his tongue as he made a face as he worked to get his shoes on. Slowly frustration began to appear on his tiny face, but he was not going to cry in public.
Eventually the offending shoes wee on his feet and he was brought to a standing position. With another messed up face he moved to take swipes at his backside in an attempt to brush off any dust and dirt that might mar his appearance, Slowly he looked around and then tilted his head. His father was still not there and that was beginning to annoy the young dark haired princeling.
He stomped his foot in pure irritation and the slap! of the soles of his foot echoed in the room. "No Go!" he said crossing hi arms in a stubborn stance. His dark eyes dared anyone to contradict him at that moment. He was not all that amused.
His small brain still hurt with the fact that his parents had tried to explain the reason behind this ceremony. He quickly bored and became cranky. It wasn't that it did not matter, far from that, but it was just too much for him to attempt to understand at one time and trying to made his head hurt like someone was taking and pounding on it with his sandals. They finally got him to understand when they broke it down into simpler terms. They promised him that there would be other children of his own age would be there as well and to Dion that translated to his cousins and best friends would be there, and that usually also meant that trouble was not far behind.
They also told him that his family would be there and he instantly wanted to know if that included his uncle Mihail and his aunts and other uncles. They said yes, and that made the toddler happy.
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May 18, 2019 15:04:06 GMT
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Dion stopped and turned at his mother's familliar voice. He broke into laughetr as she held up his sandals. Yes he had indeed forgotten them and he was sure that his personal servant would remember what he forgot, because that was their job.
He took his sandals from his mothers fingers and had the good graces to blush a deep pink in the embaressment of having to be reminded about them in public.He moved over and found a place to plop down and attempt to but them on by himself like a big boy. He focused and stuck out his tongue as he made a face as he worked to get his shoes on. Slowly frustration began to appear on his tiny face, but he was not going to cry in public.
Eventually the offending shoes wee on his feet and he was brought to a standing position. With another messed up face he moved to take swipes at his backside in an attempt to brush off any dust and dirt that might mar his appearance, Slowly he looked around and then tilted his head. His father was still not there and that was beginning to annoy the young dark haired princeling.
He stomped his foot in pure irritation and the slap! of the soles of his foot echoed in the room. "No Go!" he said crossing hi arms in a stubborn stance. His dark eyes dared anyone to contradict him at that moment. He was not all that amused.
His small brain still hurt with the fact that his parents had tried to explain the reason behind this ceremony. He quickly bored and became cranky. It wasn't that it did not matter, far from that, but it was just too much for him to attempt to understand at one time and trying to made his head hurt like someone was taking and pounding on it with his sandals. They finally got him to understand when they broke it down into simpler terms. They promised him that there would be other children of his own age would be there as well and to Dion that translated to his cousins and best friends would be there, and that usually also meant that trouble was not far behind.
They also told him that his family would be there and he instantly wanted to know if that included his uncle Mihail and his aunts and other uncles. They said yes, and that made the toddler happy.
Dion stopped and turned at his mother's familliar voice. He broke into laughetr as she held up his sandals. Yes he had indeed forgotten them and he was sure that his personal servant would remember what he forgot, because that was their job.
He took his sandals from his mothers fingers and had the good graces to blush a deep pink in the embaressment of having to be reminded about them in public.He moved over and found a place to plop down and attempt to but them on by himself like a big boy. He focused and stuck out his tongue as he made a face as he worked to get his shoes on. Slowly frustration began to appear on his tiny face, but he was not going to cry in public.
Eventually the offending shoes wee on his feet and he was brought to a standing position. With another messed up face he moved to take swipes at his backside in an attempt to brush off any dust and dirt that might mar his appearance, Slowly he looked around and then tilted his head. His father was still not there and that was beginning to annoy the young dark haired princeling.
He stomped his foot in pure irritation and the slap! of the soles of his foot echoed in the room. "No Go!" he said crossing hi arms in a stubborn stance. His dark eyes dared anyone to contradict him at that moment. He was not all that amused.
His small brain still hurt with the fact that his parents had tried to explain the reason behind this ceremony. He quickly bored and became cranky. It wasn't that it did not matter, far from that, but it was just too much for him to attempt to understand at one time and trying to made his head hurt like someone was taking and pounding on it with his sandals. They finally got him to understand when they broke it down into simpler terms. They promised him that there would be other children of his own age would be there as well and to Dion that translated to his cousins and best friends would be there, and that usually also meant that trouble was not far behind.
They also told him that his family would be there and he instantly wanted to know if that included his uncle Mihail and his aunts and other uncles. They said yes, and that made the toddler happy.
When his nephew came running towards him, Vangelis was quick to notice that he was bare footed but, upon noting the servant running behind with the sandals in hand, he said nothing. The process would play itself out.
In due course, his sister in law appeared, a beauty in her fine raiment; all white skin and black hair just like her son, and took control of the situation. She took the sandals in hand and then insisted that Dion wore them which then led to a long and arduous process of him putting them on himself. All of which irked at Vangelis' efficient personality and fastidious patience. Clearly, he was not ready to be a father, if ever the opportunity was presented. For he did not have the calm mind and resilient attitude that kept a parent smiling and loving even when a child was being stupid. Or rather, a child.
When Dion was back on his feet, Vangelis was given another opportunity to prove his limited capabilities or sensitivities to the temperament of children when the boy was stubborn and petulant and stamped his foot over - what? - Vangelis wasn't entirely sure. The child who had been excited all morning, now didn't want to leave and attend the celebration?
Vangelis took a calming breath. Children were fickle and it gnawed on his patience.
"Dion." Vangelis addressed with a hard and defiant tone that would scare some of the strongest of men. "Behalf like the prince you are. Not an infant." He told him firmly. "We will be leaving when your father arrives and you will be coming with us. Whether you like it or not." His words brokered absolutely zero argument. "Do not be so childish. Apologise to your mother."
As he had spoken, Vangelis had naturally fallen into a stance of his legs braced and his arms folded across his chest. He was a huge giant of immovable stoicism that the child would simply have to get used to if he was to grow up within this family. He, and his uncles, were exactly what Dion needed to grow into, if he was going to be a Kotas.
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When his nephew came running towards him, Vangelis was quick to notice that he was bare footed but, upon noting the servant running behind with the sandals in hand, he said nothing. The process would play itself out.
In due course, his sister in law appeared, a beauty in her fine raiment; all white skin and black hair just like her son, and took control of the situation. She took the sandals in hand and then insisted that Dion wore them which then led to a long and arduous process of him putting them on himself. All of which irked at Vangelis' efficient personality and fastidious patience. Clearly, he was not ready to be a father, if ever the opportunity was presented. For he did not have the calm mind and resilient attitude that kept a parent smiling and loving even when a child was being stupid. Or rather, a child.
When Dion was back on his feet, Vangelis was given another opportunity to prove his limited capabilities or sensitivities to the temperament of children when the boy was stubborn and petulant and stamped his foot over - what? - Vangelis wasn't entirely sure. The child who had been excited all morning, now didn't want to leave and attend the celebration?
Vangelis took a calming breath. Children were fickle and it gnawed on his patience.
"Dion." Vangelis addressed with a hard and defiant tone that would scare some of the strongest of men. "Behalf like the prince you are. Not an infant." He told him firmly. "We will be leaving when your father arrives and you will be coming with us. Whether you like it or not." His words brokered absolutely zero argument. "Do not be so childish. Apologise to your mother."
As he had spoken, Vangelis had naturally fallen into a stance of his legs braced and his arms folded across his chest. He was a huge giant of immovable stoicism that the child would simply have to get used to if he was to grow up within this family. He, and his uncles, were exactly what Dion needed to grow into, if he was going to be a Kotas.
When his nephew came running towards him, Vangelis was quick to notice that he was bare footed but, upon noting the servant running behind with the sandals in hand, he said nothing. The process would play itself out.
In due course, his sister in law appeared, a beauty in her fine raiment; all white skin and black hair just like her son, and took control of the situation. She took the sandals in hand and then insisted that Dion wore them which then led to a long and arduous process of him putting them on himself. All of which irked at Vangelis' efficient personality and fastidious patience. Clearly, he was not ready to be a father, if ever the opportunity was presented. For he did not have the calm mind and resilient attitude that kept a parent smiling and loving even when a child was being stupid. Or rather, a child.
When Dion was back on his feet, Vangelis was given another opportunity to prove his limited capabilities or sensitivities to the temperament of children when the boy was stubborn and petulant and stamped his foot over - what? - Vangelis wasn't entirely sure. The child who had been excited all morning, now didn't want to leave and attend the celebration?
Vangelis took a calming breath. Children were fickle and it gnawed on his patience.
"Dion." Vangelis addressed with a hard and defiant tone that would scare some of the strongest of men. "Behalf like the prince you are. Not an infant." He told him firmly. "We will be leaving when your father arrives and you will be coming with us. Whether you like it or not." His words brokered absolutely zero argument. "Do not be so childish. Apologise to your mother."
As he had spoken, Vangelis had naturally fallen into a stance of his legs braced and his arms folded across his chest. He was a huge giant of immovable stoicism that the child would simply have to get used to if he was to grow up within this family. He, and his uncles, were exactly what Dion needed to grow into, if he was going to be a Kotas.
A dog ran through the streets of Midas, carrying a roasted chicken in her mouth. After she was sure it lost the man she stole it from, whom pursued her with a stick with deadly intent, she stopped running and began to walk at a brisk pace. Finally, she turned towards an alley, where her mistress was waiting for her.
“Thanks!”, the ragged woman said, with her particular savage idiolect. She was sitting alongside one of the walls, and the dog approached her. The redheaded woman, who wore a white tunic – though it was incredibly dirty – scratched her head and took the chicken from her mouth, then took several savage bites out of it. When she realized it was good, she took off a leg and gave it to the dog that brought it. She was such a good girl.
She knew she was in trouble. But at this point, she didn’t care. She came to the city of Midas alongside a priestess. Why, she wasn’t sure, but she gladly followed them alongside one of her dogs… she didn’t know what a festival was, but it sounded like fun, so when the priestess wasn’t paying attention, she snuck out.
She understood they were celebrating. What, she didn’t know… but she realized that food was involved. So, she decided to eat! And her dog helped her greatly with it, taking food from people and bringing it to her mistress. Aedea did her own as well – she took a jar from a stall when no one was looking, and no one realized. She drank from it, and discovered pleased that it was wine. That was one of the best things about civilization: the wine! It tasted unpleasant, but it made her head swim and feel warm. And she loved that.
Thus, she drank and ate with wild abandon, knowing that the sister was probably looking for her and worried sick. She will appear to her sooner or later, but first, she was going to indulge. After they left nothing but bones from the chicken, she let out a small belch, said "Follow" and continued on her way, followed by the hound. It was time to see what else there was of this ‘festival’ thing…
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A dog ran through the streets of Midas, carrying a roasted chicken in her mouth. After she was sure it lost the man she stole it from, whom pursued her with a stick with deadly intent, she stopped running and began to walk at a brisk pace. Finally, she turned towards an alley, where her mistress was waiting for her.
“Thanks!”, the ragged woman said, with her particular savage idiolect. She was sitting alongside one of the walls, and the dog approached her. The redheaded woman, who wore a white tunic – though it was incredibly dirty – scratched her head and took the chicken from her mouth, then took several savage bites out of it. When she realized it was good, she took off a leg and gave it to the dog that brought it. She was such a good girl.
She knew she was in trouble. But at this point, she didn’t care. She came to the city of Midas alongside a priestess. Why, she wasn’t sure, but she gladly followed them alongside one of her dogs… she didn’t know what a festival was, but it sounded like fun, so when the priestess wasn’t paying attention, she snuck out.
She understood they were celebrating. What, she didn’t know… but she realized that food was involved. So, she decided to eat! And her dog helped her greatly with it, taking food from people and bringing it to her mistress. Aedea did her own as well – she took a jar from a stall when no one was looking, and no one realized. She drank from it, and discovered pleased that it was wine. That was one of the best things about civilization: the wine! It tasted unpleasant, but it made her head swim and feel warm. And she loved that.
Thus, she drank and ate with wild abandon, knowing that the sister was probably looking for her and worried sick. She will appear to her sooner or later, but first, she was going to indulge. After they left nothing but bones from the chicken, she let out a small belch, said "Follow" and continued on her way, followed by the hound. It was time to see what else there was of this ‘festival’ thing…
A dog ran through the streets of Midas, carrying a roasted chicken in her mouth. After she was sure it lost the man she stole it from, whom pursued her with a stick with deadly intent, she stopped running and began to walk at a brisk pace. Finally, she turned towards an alley, where her mistress was waiting for her.
“Thanks!”, the ragged woman said, with her particular savage idiolect. She was sitting alongside one of the walls, and the dog approached her. The redheaded woman, who wore a white tunic – though it was incredibly dirty – scratched her head and took the chicken from her mouth, then took several savage bites out of it. When she realized it was good, she took off a leg and gave it to the dog that brought it. She was such a good girl.
She knew she was in trouble. But at this point, she didn’t care. She came to the city of Midas alongside a priestess. Why, she wasn’t sure, but she gladly followed them alongside one of her dogs… she didn’t know what a festival was, but it sounded like fun, so when the priestess wasn’t paying attention, she snuck out.
She understood they were celebrating. What, she didn’t know… but she realized that food was involved. So, she decided to eat! And her dog helped her greatly with it, taking food from people and bringing it to her mistress. Aedea did her own as well – she took a jar from a stall when no one was looking, and no one realized. She drank from it, and discovered pleased that it was wine. That was one of the best things about civilization: the wine! It tasted unpleasant, but it made her head swim and feel warm. And she loved that.
Thus, she drank and ate with wild abandon, knowing that the sister was probably looking for her and worried sick. She will appear to her sooner or later, but first, she was going to indulge. After they left nothing but bones from the chicken, she let out a small belch, said "Follow" and continued on her way, followed by the hound. It was time to see what else there was of this ‘festival’ thing…
"Yes well, he is my baby. Mother and father never stopped showing us love or teaching us reason once we could dash about with swords."
Pressing kisses to both his wife and son again, Zanon grinned over at his brother before taking his family in hand and keeping a tight hold on his son. Vangelis' words didn't sting necessarily, but he had wondered if perhaps he was being too soft on him. Then the instant the little boy's eyes began to well up with tears or the corners of his lips turned down even slightly, he was bending easily to give him what he thought best, and what he wanted. It was one of the reasons he left most of the disciplining to Evras, she was far better at being a mother than he ever would be at being a father.
"Besides, I'm sure we'd all be happy to play with swords. When we get back, we can play. Or perhaps if he had some cousins to run about with."
This he directed blatantly at his elder brother. It was odd enough that a younger son had married before the heir, but for Vangelis to have shown no sort of favor towards any of the women at court or any inclination he knew what to do with a woman of noble breeding made Zanon nervous. He never wanted the throne, had never envied his brother and father the burdens that they bore, and the last thing he wanted was for Dion to have to face that sort of thing. As much as their mother poked and prodded about it, so did Zanon constantly remind his brother whenever the mood was right that he needed to get married and produce children for the good of the kingdom.
Guiding his family out to the carriage that would take them to the event site, the second prince pulled his son onto his lap and kept one arm around his wife, allowing Vangelis to ride alongside them in favor of staying close to his family. Having them close made him happy, comfortable and content with his own small family beside him.
"Alright then, lead on Vangelis."
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"Yes well, he is my baby. Mother and father never stopped showing us love or teaching us reason once we could dash about with swords."
Pressing kisses to both his wife and son again, Zanon grinned over at his brother before taking his family in hand and keeping a tight hold on his son. Vangelis' words didn't sting necessarily, but he had wondered if perhaps he was being too soft on him. Then the instant the little boy's eyes began to well up with tears or the corners of his lips turned down even slightly, he was bending easily to give him what he thought best, and what he wanted. It was one of the reasons he left most of the disciplining to Evras, she was far better at being a mother than he ever would be at being a father.
"Besides, I'm sure we'd all be happy to play with swords. When we get back, we can play. Or perhaps if he had some cousins to run about with."
This he directed blatantly at his elder brother. It was odd enough that a younger son had married before the heir, but for Vangelis to have shown no sort of favor towards any of the women at court or any inclination he knew what to do with a woman of noble breeding made Zanon nervous. He never wanted the throne, had never envied his brother and father the burdens that they bore, and the last thing he wanted was for Dion to have to face that sort of thing. As much as their mother poked and prodded about it, so did Zanon constantly remind his brother whenever the mood was right that he needed to get married and produce children for the good of the kingdom.
Guiding his family out to the carriage that would take them to the event site, the second prince pulled his son onto his lap and kept one arm around his wife, allowing Vangelis to ride alongside them in favor of staying close to his family. Having them close made him happy, comfortable and content with his own small family beside him.
"Alright then, lead on Vangelis."
"Yes well, he is my baby. Mother and father never stopped showing us love or teaching us reason once we could dash about with swords."
Pressing kisses to both his wife and son again, Zanon grinned over at his brother before taking his family in hand and keeping a tight hold on his son. Vangelis' words didn't sting necessarily, but he had wondered if perhaps he was being too soft on him. Then the instant the little boy's eyes began to well up with tears or the corners of his lips turned down even slightly, he was bending easily to give him what he thought best, and what he wanted. It was one of the reasons he left most of the disciplining to Evras, she was far better at being a mother than he ever would be at being a father.
"Besides, I'm sure we'd all be happy to play with swords. When we get back, we can play. Or perhaps if he had some cousins to run about with."
This he directed blatantly at his elder brother. It was odd enough that a younger son had married before the heir, but for Vangelis to have shown no sort of favor towards any of the women at court or any inclination he knew what to do with a woman of noble breeding made Zanon nervous. He never wanted the throne, had never envied his brother and father the burdens that they bore, and the last thing he wanted was for Dion to have to face that sort of thing. As much as their mother poked and prodded about it, so did Zanon constantly remind his brother whenever the mood was right that he needed to get married and produce children for the good of the kingdom.
Guiding his family out to the carriage that would take them to the event site, the second prince pulled his son onto his lap and kept one arm around his wife, allowing Vangelis to ride alongside them in favor of staying close to his family. Having them close made him happy, comfortable and content with his own small family beside him.
"Alright then, lead on Vangelis."
Vangelis gave little expression when Zanon insisted that the boy was in fact his baby in some sort of justification for being soft on the lad. His jaw tightened and he turned away as if to hide an almost roll of his eyes. He thought Zanon far too lenient on the child. The boy was a third of the way to adulthood and had barely matured from his toddler years, as far as Vangelis was concerned. The thought that he was uninformed of such things because he himself was not a father did not quell his determinations.
But, more specifically, he was neither Dion nor Zanon's father. He could voice an opinion but he had no rights to order Zanon to father differently. He was not Dion's sire, and their father was the only one who could play that card against Zanon, as the King deciding whether or not his current future heir was being raised right. As an uncle, Vangelis was too far removed to have the right to order or dictate. Which meant he simply said nothing.
On the subject of his own kin and offspring, however, he could say what he wanted. Especially as Zanon decided that such a topic needed to be raised as they headed outside into the sunshine.
"I am well aware of my duties, brother." He told the man with a sidelong glance at him and then a dropping look towards Dion. He turned back to his steed. "And as soon as I find the right woman to be our Queen, I'll be sure to carry them out."
His face held the dogged expression that read "and not a moment before then, so stop nagging brother" along with some good-natured humour at Zanon's mockery.
Pulling himself up onto the back of Windrunner, Vangelis turned the creature in the direction of the front entrance of the manor. The bronze grating of the open gates had been strung with garlands of blossoms and they were not the last flowers to be seen on their journey. Every house that held a child that had turned four years of age this year had decorated the front of their homes, their front gates and doors and the face of their houses with strings of flowers and offerings of fruit and meat to the goddesses Hebe and Artemis. In thanks for their protection of young children. There were also several carved figures of the Moirae that Vangelis could see as he rode, where certain families thanked the three witch gods for deciding their children to have a life line longer than four years.
It was a strange event they held each yeah - a mixture of celebration with a strong underpinning of the fear of death. It was an event that Vangelis could easily understand and actually quite enjoyed. Some of the annual celebrations felt almost false to him with their jovial atmosphere and over the top focus on happiness and pleasure. This one - similar to the celebrations held after the end of a war - was honest and real and celebrated the escape from the horror of losing one's child. Somehow, to Vangelis, it made the celebrating more worthy.
Leading the royal carriage and the guards through the streets, Vangelis offered nods and the smallest of curls to the corner of his lips as the people of the capitol cried out and praised the royal family as they passed.
"Hail Lord Kotas!" They called. "Hail to the crown prince!" "Hail to their highnesses!"
Vangelis gave his nods of recognition because he had always been told to show an element of connection to his people. But he never slowed his horse, nor offered more than a passing glance. He never fully smiled - not even his customary half-smile, at anyone. For, he was to be the next King. Too much civility and kindness could be seen as softness... weakness. It was an element of himself he was not permitted to give.
He maintained his aura and image all the way to the main palateia where a raised platform had been set up along one side of the open space and food vendors and merchant traders had squeezed every possible table of wares into the other three. The centre of the space held a small fountain and a huge crowd of people. Children were everywhere. Some older, some younger, some the right age and wearing crowns of flowers on their heads.
Vangelis vaguely remembered his own anthesteria. He remembered feeling proud that he had somehow achieved something by reaching such an age. He looked across at the parents in the crowd, watching, yelling or admonishing their off-spring when they became too unruly, embracing them and kissing them when they came near. He thought of Zanon's words back at the manor and took a calming breath inward as he dismounted.
His own life would take the turn of fatherhood when the time was right. Or, so he believed. It was in the hands of the Gods either way. For he could find a willing woman and have a child at any time. What he couldn't do was find the Queen of Colchis and produce the next true heir with quite so much ease. Like his life, Vangelis' children would not be his own. They would be the princes and princesses of Colchis. And he would not saddle his kingdom with heirs to the crown inheritance that were not up to the task. Nor would he choose a woman who could not ensure that their children's education and upbringing made them so.
As much as he chastised his brother for his parenting skills of Dion, Vangelis hope that, in the end, the boy would be no closer to being king than Silas or Yiannis. He hoped that his own children would happen and that how Zanon parented Dion would be almost superfluous... But that was a thought for another time.
Handing the reins of his mount to a guardsman, Vangelis' long fingers tugged out any wrinkles or shifts in his long chiton and turned to watch his brother and his family descend from the carriage, ignoring the tug he felt somewhere in his chest at the sight of Zanon's hand on his son's dark curls.
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Vangelis gave little expression when Zanon insisted that the boy was in fact his baby in some sort of justification for being soft on the lad. His jaw tightened and he turned away as if to hide an almost roll of his eyes. He thought Zanon far too lenient on the child. The boy was a third of the way to adulthood and had barely matured from his toddler years, as far as Vangelis was concerned. The thought that he was uninformed of such things because he himself was not a father did not quell his determinations.
But, more specifically, he was neither Dion nor Zanon's father. He could voice an opinion but he had no rights to order Zanon to father differently. He was not Dion's sire, and their father was the only one who could play that card against Zanon, as the King deciding whether or not his current future heir was being raised right. As an uncle, Vangelis was too far removed to have the right to order or dictate. Which meant he simply said nothing.
On the subject of his own kin and offspring, however, he could say what he wanted. Especially as Zanon decided that such a topic needed to be raised as they headed outside into the sunshine.
"I am well aware of my duties, brother." He told the man with a sidelong glance at him and then a dropping look towards Dion. He turned back to his steed. "And as soon as I find the right woman to be our Queen, I'll be sure to carry them out."
His face held the dogged expression that read "and not a moment before then, so stop nagging brother" along with some good-natured humour at Zanon's mockery.
Pulling himself up onto the back of Windrunner, Vangelis turned the creature in the direction of the front entrance of the manor. The bronze grating of the open gates had been strung with garlands of blossoms and they were not the last flowers to be seen on their journey. Every house that held a child that had turned four years of age this year had decorated the front of their homes, their front gates and doors and the face of their houses with strings of flowers and offerings of fruit and meat to the goddesses Hebe and Artemis. In thanks for their protection of young children. There were also several carved figures of the Moirae that Vangelis could see as he rode, where certain families thanked the three witch gods for deciding their children to have a life line longer than four years.
It was a strange event they held each yeah - a mixture of celebration with a strong underpinning of the fear of death. It was an event that Vangelis could easily understand and actually quite enjoyed. Some of the annual celebrations felt almost false to him with their jovial atmosphere and over the top focus on happiness and pleasure. This one - similar to the celebrations held after the end of a war - was honest and real and celebrated the escape from the horror of losing one's child. Somehow, to Vangelis, it made the celebrating more worthy.
Leading the royal carriage and the guards through the streets, Vangelis offered nods and the smallest of curls to the corner of his lips as the people of the capitol cried out and praised the royal family as they passed.
"Hail Lord Kotas!" They called. "Hail to the crown prince!" "Hail to their highnesses!"
Vangelis gave his nods of recognition because he had always been told to show an element of connection to his people. But he never slowed his horse, nor offered more than a passing glance. He never fully smiled - not even his customary half-smile, at anyone. For, he was to be the next King. Too much civility and kindness could be seen as softness... weakness. It was an element of himself he was not permitted to give.
He maintained his aura and image all the way to the main palateia where a raised platform had been set up along one side of the open space and food vendors and merchant traders had squeezed every possible table of wares into the other three. The centre of the space held a small fountain and a huge crowd of people. Children were everywhere. Some older, some younger, some the right age and wearing crowns of flowers on their heads.
Vangelis vaguely remembered his own anthesteria. He remembered feeling proud that he had somehow achieved something by reaching such an age. He looked across at the parents in the crowd, watching, yelling or admonishing their off-spring when they became too unruly, embracing them and kissing them when they came near. He thought of Zanon's words back at the manor and took a calming breath inward as he dismounted.
His own life would take the turn of fatherhood when the time was right. Or, so he believed. It was in the hands of the Gods either way. For he could find a willing woman and have a child at any time. What he couldn't do was find the Queen of Colchis and produce the next true heir with quite so much ease. Like his life, Vangelis' children would not be his own. They would be the princes and princesses of Colchis. And he would not saddle his kingdom with heirs to the crown inheritance that were not up to the task. Nor would he choose a woman who could not ensure that their children's education and upbringing made them so.
As much as he chastised his brother for his parenting skills of Dion, Vangelis hope that, in the end, the boy would be no closer to being king than Silas or Yiannis. He hoped that his own children would happen and that how Zanon parented Dion would be almost superfluous... But that was a thought for another time.
Handing the reins of his mount to a guardsman, Vangelis' long fingers tugged out any wrinkles or shifts in his long chiton and turned to watch his brother and his family descend from the carriage, ignoring the tug he felt somewhere in his chest at the sight of Zanon's hand on his son's dark curls.
Vangelis gave little expression when Zanon insisted that the boy was in fact his baby in some sort of justification for being soft on the lad. His jaw tightened and he turned away as if to hide an almost roll of his eyes. He thought Zanon far too lenient on the child. The boy was a third of the way to adulthood and had barely matured from his toddler years, as far as Vangelis was concerned. The thought that he was uninformed of such things because he himself was not a father did not quell his determinations.
But, more specifically, he was neither Dion nor Zanon's father. He could voice an opinion but he had no rights to order Zanon to father differently. He was not Dion's sire, and their father was the only one who could play that card against Zanon, as the King deciding whether or not his current future heir was being raised right. As an uncle, Vangelis was too far removed to have the right to order or dictate. Which meant he simply said nothing.
On the subject of his own kin and offspring, however, he could say what he wanted. Especially as Zanon decided that such a topic needed to be raised as they headed outside into the sunshine.
"I am well aware of my duties, brother." He told the man with a sidelong glance at him and then a dropping look towards Dion. He turned back to his steed. "And as soon as I find the right woman to be our Queen, I'll be sure to carry them out."
His face held the dogged expression that read "and not a moment before then, so stop nagging brother" along with some good-natured humour at Zanon's mockery.
Pulling himself up onto the back of Windrunner, Vangelis turned the creature in the direction of the front entrance of the manor. The bronze grating of the open gates had been strung with garlands of blossoms and they were not the last flowers to be seen on their journey. Every house that held a child that had turned four years of age this year had decorated the front of their homes, their front gates and doors and the face of their houses with strings of flowers and offerings of fruit and meat to the goddesses Hebe and Artemis. In thanks for their protection of young children. There were also several carved figures of the Moirae that Vangelis could see as he rode, where certain families thanked the three witch gods for deciding their children to have a life line longer than four years.
It was a strange event they held each yeah - a mixture of celebration with a strong underpinning of the fear of death. It was an event that Vangelis could easily understand and actually quite enjoyed. Some of the annual celebrations felt almost false to him with their jovial atmosphere and over the top focus on happiness and pleasure. This one - similar to the celebrations held after the end of a war - was honest and real and celebrated the escape from the horror of losing one's child. Somehow, to Vangelis, it made the celebrating more worthy.
Leading the royal carriage and the guards through the streets, Vangelis offered nods and the smallest of curls to the corner of his lips as the people of the capitol cried out and praised the royal family as they passed.
"Hail Lord Kotas!" They called. "Hail to the crown prince!" "Hail to their highnesses!"
Vangelis gave his nods of recognition because he had always been told to show an element of connection to his people. But he never slowed his horse, nor offered more than a passing glance. He never fully smiled - not even his customary half-smile, at anyone. For, he was to be the next King. Too much civility and kindness could be seen as softness... weakness. It was an element of himself he was not permitted to give.
He maintained his aura and image all the way to the main palateia where a raised platform had been set up along one side of the open space and food vendors and merchant traders had squeezed every possible table of wares into the other three. The centre of the space held a small fountain and a huge crowd of people. Children were everywhere. Some older, some younger, some the right age and wearing crowns of flowers on their heads.
Vangelis vaguely remembered his own anthesteria. He remembered feeling proud that he had somehow achieved something by reaching such an age. He looked across at the parents in the crowd, watching, yelling or admonishing their off-spring when they became too unruly, embracing them and kissing them when they came near. He thought of Zanon's words back at the manor and took a calming breath inward as he dismounted.
His own life would take the turn of fatherhood when the time was right. Or, so he believed. It was in the hands of the Gods either way. For he could find a willing woman and have a child at any time. What he couldn't do was find the Queen of Colchis and produce the next true heir with quite so much ease. Like his life, Vangelis' children would not be his own. They would be the princes and princesses of Colchis. And he would not saddle his kingdom with heirs to the crown inheritance that were not up to the task. Nor would he choose a woman who could not ensure that their children's education and upbringing made them so.
As much as he chastised his brother for his parenting skills of Dion, Vangelis hope that, in the end, the boy would be no closer to being king than Silas or Yiannis. He hoped that his own children would happen and that how Zanon parented Dion would be almost superfluous... But that was a thought for another time.
Handing the reins of his mount to a guardsman, Vangelis' long fingers tugged out any wrinkles or shifts in his long chiton and turned to watch his brother and his family descend from the carriage, ignoring the tug he felt somewhere in his chest at the sight of Zanon's hand on his son's dark curls.
Her brother in law's comment at babying Dion too much made Evras bristle - children were meant to be children, and even in play, they learned. She did not see what was wrong with ensuring Dion grew up in an enviroment he felt safe and secure in, so that he would always have a home he wanted to return to should he need to. It was the enviroment her father, and then Thea had raised her in, and Evras wanted the same for her own offspring.
Knowing better then to argue, make a scene or put her husband caught between a rock and a hard place however, instead the woman kept her mouth shut, smiling as her husband pressed kisses against them again. Trusting Zanon to handle Vangelis's comments appropriately, instead Evras chuckled at Zanon's blatant comment regarding his elder brother's marital status. She wasn't surprised, for Zanon had not exactly been quiet about his wishes for Vangelis to produce heirs so the weight of the crown would never fall at Zanon's feet. While Nethis probably would not like knowing it, but to a certain extent, Evras could see why. Her husband was a soft hearted soul, and it was clear to see how he bent to Dion's every will.... to run a kingdom, was something her secretly soft hearted husband wouldn't do well, at least not up to his par or standards, and that would only serve to stress him out more.
Following Zanon's guide, Evras picked Dion up as they arrive at the carriage, and ensured the young four-year old was ensconced safely on his father's lap, before the open carriage lurched into motion.
Answering any questions Dion may have along the ride, Evras chose to simply enjoy being by Zanon for now, a benefit sorely missed when her husband was busy on matters of the state. To a certain extent, the lady missed the brief period of time they spent blissfully alone in Oroboea in the periodafter their wedding, when no one could intrude upon ther time. The years that had followed after was quickly eaten up by duties and caring for their young son, it had passed in a blur. That Dion was now celebrating his anthestehria seemed slightly surreal to Evras.
Unlike Zanon and Vangelis however, Evras's own greeting to the Midas residents as they passed was more stunted and hollow. She had yet to settle into a role of being a princess, having never been born to be one. On top of being a mother, Evras had had to learn how to be a princess ever since marriage, and since she had prioritized being a mother, now that she was in a public event, her lack of exposure to being part of the royal entourage was quite obvious to those around her, athough she tried her best to smoothen her smile and make it look less wooden.
They could not arrive at the constructed stage sooner, and it was with a relieved sigh that Evras allowed the servants to pen the doors for them. "I have to get used to that soon, surely." the dark-haired lady commented in a dry look to Zanon, before they descended, Zanon first with Dion, before she followed, giving smiles and nods again as she walked up to Dion, and bent down so she was eye level with him. "Do you see your friends, Dion? See the Eliades twins? They'll be here with you today." the mother was quick to point out the familiar to Dion, always attuned to the fact that her son would require someone or something familiar to ground him to a new situation.
Only when Dion had had time to absorb all that was happening, did she start towards the raised platform where the ceremony would take place, one hand holding her son's whilst her husband held the other.
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Her brother in law's comment at babying Dion too much made Evras bristle - children were meant to be children, and even in play, they learned. She did not see what was wrong with ensuring Dion grew up in an enviroment he felt safe and secure in, so that he would always have a home he wanted to return to should he need to. It was the enviroment her father, and then Thea had raised her in, and Evras wanted the same for her own offspring.
Knowing better then to argue, make a scene or put her husband caught between a rock and a hard place however, instead the woman kept her mouth shut, smiling as her husband pressed kisses against them again. Trusting Zanon to handle Vangelis's comments appropriately, instead Evras chuckled at Zanon's blatant comment regarding his elder brother's marital status. She wasn't surprised, for Zanon had not exactly been quiet about his wishes for Vangelis to produce heirs so the weight of the crown would never fall at Zanon's feet. While Nethis probably would not like knowing it, but to a certain extent, Evras could see why. Her husband was a soft hearted soul, and it was clear to see how he bent to Dion's every will.... to run a kingdom, was something her secretly soft hearted husband wouldn't do well, at least not up to his par or standards, and that would only serve to stress him out more.
Following Zanon's guide, Evras picked Dion up as they arrive at the carriage, and ensured the young four-year old was ensconced safely on his father's lap, before the open carriage lurched into motion.
Answering any questions Dion may have along the ride, Evras chose to simply enjoy being by Zanon for now, a benefit sorely missed when her husband was busy on matters of the state. To a certain extent, the lady missed the brief period of time they spent blissfully alone in Oroboea in the periodafter their wedding, when no one could intrude upon ther time. The years that had followed after was quickly eaten up by duties and caring for their young son, it had passed in a blur. That Dion was now celebrating his anthestehria seemed slightly surreal to Evras.
Unlike Zanon and Vangelis however, Evras's own greeting to the Midas residents as they passed was more stunted and hollow. She had yet to settle into a role of being a princess, having never been born to be one. On top of being a mother, Evras had had to learn how to be a princess ever since marriage, and since she had prioritized being a mother, now that she was in a public event, her lack of exposure to being part of the royal entourage was quite obvious to those around her, athough she tried her best to smoothen her smile and make it look less wooden.
They could not arrive at the constructed stage sooner, and it was with a relieved sigh that Evras allowed the servants to pen the doors for them. "I have to get used to that soon, surely." the dark-haired lady commented in a dry look to Zanon, before they descended, Zanon first with Dion, before she followed, giving smiles and nods again as she walked up to Dion, and bent down so she was eye level with him. "Do you see your friends, Dion? See the Eliades twins? They'll be here with you today." the mother was quick to point out the familiar to Dion, always attuned to the fact that her son would require someone or something familiar to ground him to a new situation.
Only when Dion had had time to absorb all that was happening, did she start towards the raised platform where the ceremony would take place, one hand holding her son's whilst her husband held the other.
Her brother in law's comment at babying Dion too much made Evras bristle - children were meant to be children, and even in play, they learned. She did not see what was wrong with ensuring Dion grew up in an enviroment he felt safe and secure in, so that he would always have a home he wanted to return to should he need to. It was the enviroment her father, and then Thea had raised her in, and Evras wanted the same for her own offspring.
Knowing better then to argue, make a scene or put her husband caught between a rock and a hard place however, instead the woman kept her mouth shut, smiling as her husband pressed kisses against them again. Trusting Zanon to handle Vangelis's comments appropriately, instead Evras chuckled at Zanon's blatant comment regarding his elder brother's marital status. She wasn't surprised, for Zanon had not exactly been quiet about his wishes for Vangelis to produce heirs so the weight of the crown would never fall at Zanon's feet. While Nethis probably would not like knowing it, but to a certain extent, Evras could see why. Her husband was a soft hearted soul, and it was clear to see how he bent to Dion's every will.... to run a kingdom, was something her secretly soft hearted husband wouldn't do well, at least not up to his par or standards, and that would only serve to stress him out more.
Following Zanon's guide, Evras picked Dion up as they arrive at the carriage, and ensured the young four-year old was ensconced safely on his father's lap, before the open carriage lurched into motion.
Answering any questions Dion may have along the ride, Evras chose to simply enjoy being by Zanon for now, a benefit sorely missed when her husband was busy on matters of the state. To a certain extent, the lady missed the brief period of time they spent blissfully alone in Oroboea in the periodafter their wedding, when no one could intrude upon ther time. The years that had followed after was quickly eaten up by duties and caring for their young son, it had passed in a blur. That Dion was now celebrating his anthestehria seemed slightly surreal to Evras.
Unlike Zanon and Vangelis however, Evras's own greeting to the Midas residents as they passed was more stunted and hollow. She had yet to settle into a role of being a princess, having never been born to be one. On top of being a mother, Evras had had to learn how to be a princess ever since marriage, and since she had prioritized being a mother, now that she was in a public event, her lack of exposure to being part of the royal entourage was quite obvious to those around her, athough she tried her best to smoothen her smile and make it look less wooden.
They could not arrive at the constructed stage sooner, and it was with a relieved sigh that Evras allowed the servants to pen the doors for them. "I have to get used to that soon, surely." the dark-haired lady commented in a dry look to Zanon, before they descended, Zanon first with Dion, before she followed, giving smiles and nods again as she walked up to Dion, and bent down so she was eye level with him. "Do you see your friends, Dion? See the Eliades twins? They'll be here with you today." the mother was quick to point out the familiar to Dion, always attuned to the fact that her son would require someone or something familiar to ground him to a new situation.
Only when Dion had had time to absorb all that was happening, did she start towards the raised platform where the ceremony would take place, one hand holding her son's whilst her husband held the other.
At the sound of his uncle Vangelis voice, the young toddler turned and looked at him and made a face. He was a child so he was going to act like one and they just could not leave yet because his father was not there it would not be right.
"I Four!" he said as a way of reminding his uncle that he was a child. Then he added, "Daddy not here yet, no go till he here." He looked over at his mother and knawed at his lip as he looked at her with almost the same expression that Vang gave when he knew that he was in trouble.
He brightened up when his father appeared and then eagerly took his hand and squeezed it before his mother picked him up and carried him as the family moved to the carriage and then happily sat in his father's lap. At that point, all was right with the world and with the tiny princeling.
Dion listened to his uncle and instinctively stuck out his tongue at him. He did not like anyone talking bad at his parents. He hoped that his antics were not seen, but then if they were, there was not much he could do to take it back.
He was soon distracted by the voices that called out as the Royal Family passed and that made him move to peek out the window at the people and he offered a small wave with a smile.
When the carriage came to a stop, Dion held on to his father and allowed him to carry him until he set him down. When his mother bent down to him, he looked at her curiously.At the mention that the twins would be her, he did what the servants had come to call, the toddler dance, something that he did when he was happy. He looked around to see if he could see the twins and failed, pausing to look at his mother and then shaking his head, but he also trusted her to not lie to him. If she said they were here, then they were and time would show where they were.
They gave him time to adjust to the noise and all the people before they began to move towards the platform, each parent holding onto one of his hands while he played to the crowd. A sudden bounce appeared in his step as he caught sight of his two best friends, Babis and Aras! He knew he was supposed to behave but he could not help let out a happy squeal and he attempted to get their attention.
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At the sound of his uncle Vangelis voice, the young toddler turned and looked at him and made a face. He was a child so he was going to act like one and they just could not leave yet because his father was not there it would not be right.
"I Four!" he said as a way of reminding his uncle that he was a child. Then he added, "Daddy not here yet, no go till he here." He looked over at his mother and knawed at his lip as he looked at her with almost the same expression that Vang gave when he knew that he was in trouble.
He brightened up when his father appeared and then eagerly took his hand and squeezed it before his mother picked him up and carried him as the family moved to the carriage and then happily sat in his father's lap. At that point, all was right with the world and with the tiny princeling.
Dion listened to his uncle and instinctively stuck out his tongue at him. He did not like anyone talking bad at his parents. He hoped that his antics were not seen, but then if they were, there was not much he could do to take it back.
He was soon distracted by the voices that called out as the Royal Family passed and that made him move to peek out the window at the people and he offered a small wave with a smile.
When the carriage came to a stop, Dion held on to his father and allowed him to carry him until he set him down. When his mother bent down to him, he looked at her curiously.At the mention that the twins would be her, he did what the servants had come to call, the toddler dance, something that he did when he was happy. He looked around to see if he could see the twins and failed, pausing to look at his mother and then shaking his head, but he also trusted her to not lie to him. If she said they were here, then they were and time would show where they were.
They gave him time to adjust to the noise and all the people before they began to move towards the platform, each parent holding onto one of his hands while he played to the crowd. A sudden bounce appeared in his step as he caught sight of his two best friends, Babis and Aras! He knew he was supposed to behave but he could not help let out a happy squeal and he attempted to get their attention.
At the sound of his uncle Vangelis voice, the young toddler turned and looked at him and made a face. He was a child so he was going to act like one and they just could not leave yet because his father was not there it would not be right.
"I Four!" he said as a way of reminding his uncle that he was a child. Then he added, "Daddy not here yet, no go till he here." He looked over at his mother and knawed at his lip as he looked at her with almost the same expression that Vang gave when he knew that he was in trouble.
He brightened up when his father appeared and then eagerly took his hand and squeezed it before his mother picked him up and carried him as the family moved to the carriage and then happily sat in his father's lap. At that point, all was right with the world and with the tiny princeling.
Dion listened to his uncle and instinctively stuck out his tongue at him. He did not like anyone talking bad at his parents. He hoped that his antics were not seen, but then if they were, there was not much he could do to take it back.
He was soon distracted by the voices that called out as the Royal Family passed and that made him move to peek out the window at the people and he offered a small wave with a smile.
When the carriage came to a stop, Dion held on to his father and allowed him to carry him until he set him down. When his mother bent down to him, he looked at her curiously.At the mention that the twins would be her, he did what the servants had come to call, the toddler dance, something that he did when he was happy. He looked around to see if he could see the twins and failed, pausing to look at his mother and then shaking his head, but he also trusted her to not lie to him. If she said they were here, then they were and time would show where they were.
They gave him time to adjust to the noise and all the people before they began to move towards the platform, each parent holding onto one of his hands while he played to the crowd. A sudden bounce appeared in his step as he caught sight of his two best friends, Babis and Aras! He knew he was supposed to behave but he could not help let out a happy squeal and he attempted to get their attention.
This was a day of celebration in more ways than one. Not only was this a day to celebrate the children within their fourth year of life, but also as one of the few times celebrated in Colchis where Dionysus came to the forefront. By Colchian means, it meant a slight excess of wine being presented to overtly stoic population, perhaps to add to some lightness in the atmosphere for the children.
In the weeks leading to the event, Thea made a few short moments to meet with Evras, noting her sister's excitement at reaching such a milestone in her son's life. The young Prince had made it through the most perilous years of youth, bypassing many of the worst illnesses and risks at such a young age. It was a blessing to see Dion grow, though with more and more time passing between visits, it seemed he grew by leaps and bounds each time Thea saw her beloved nephew.
The Thanasi siblings had arrived together but had drifted apart for some short amount of time, either to commune with others here and there, but eventually they stood near to one another. Thea resumed her place near to Mihail's shoulder, eyeing the small bow and arrow that he held as a gift for Dion. Saying nothing, however, she took a small sip of her wine and watched as the royal carriage arrived, a smile on her lips as she saw Dion adorned with a crown of flowers as opposed to his usual metal circlet.
Unable to resist, she smiled over to her nephew, raising a slight hand and waving just her fingers in a quiet hello. Circumstances had it so that her youngest Thanasi daughter had a marriage and a child well before the eldest two, and while it was normally of no major concern for Thea, the love she held for the youngest child of Thanasi blood often sent a little pang into the deepest parts of her chest, not quite longing but a primal want for someone of her age.
Then again, as her eyes passed over the face of her sister and Prince Zanon, they also fell upon Crown Prince Vangelis as he watched the family process towards the dais. There was a small ripple of wine-welcomed laughter as Dion gave a squeal of delight to see his two close friends, Aras and Babis of Eliades.
"I am not certain which side of the family he gets such energy from," Thea murmured towards Mihail's shoulder, "I would say the Kotas side, but then again..."
While the Thanasi family was not known for being the sunniest of families, they were not seemingly carved out of stone in the same manner as the Kotas brood.
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Jul 26, 2019 15:02:58 GMT
Posted In Anthesteria on Jul 26, 2019 15:02:58 GMT
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This was a day of celebration in more ways than one. Not only was this a day to celebrate the children within their fourth year of life, but also as one of the few times celebrated in Colchis where Dionysus came to the forefront. By Colchian means, it meant a slight excess of wine being presented to overtly stoic population, perhaps to add to some lightness in the atmosphere for the children.
In the weeks leading to the event, Thea made a few short moments to meet with Evras, noting her sister's excitement at reaching such a milestone in her son's life. The young Prince had made it through the most perilous years of youth, bypassing many of the worst illnesses and risks at such a young age. It was a blessing to see Dion grow, though with more and more time passing between visits, it seemed he grew by leaps and bounds each time Thea saw her beloved nephew.
The Thanasi siblings had arrived together but had drifted apart for some short amount of time, either to commune with others here and there, but eventually they stood near to one another. Thea resumed her place near to Mihail's shoulder, eyeing the small bow and arrow that he held as a gift for Dion. Saying nothing, however, she took a small sip of her wine and watched as the royal carriage arrived, a smile on her lips as she saw Dion adorned with a crown of flowers as opposed to his usual metal circlet.
Unable to resist, she smiled over to her nephew, raising a slight hand and waving just her fingers in a quiet hello. Circumstances had it so that her youngest Thanasi daughter had a marriage and a child well before the eldest two, and while it was normally of no major concern for Thea, the love she held for the youngest child of Thanasi blood often sent a little pang into the deepest parts of her chest, not quite longing but a primal want for someone of her age.
Then again, as her eyes passed over the face of her sister and Prince Zanon, they also fell upon Crown Prince Vangelis as he watched the family process towards the dais. There was a small ripple of wine-welcomed laughter as Dion gave a squeal of delight to see his two close friends, Aras and Babis of Eliades.
"I am not certain which side of the family he gets such energy from," Thea murmured towards Mihail's shoulder, "I would say the Kotas side, but then again..."
While the Thanasi family was not known for being the sunniest of families, they were not seemingly carved out of stone in the same manner as the Kotas brood.
This was a day of celebration in more ways than one. Not only was this a day to celebrate the children within their fourth year of life, but also as one of the few times celebrated in Colchis where Dionysus came to the forefront. By Colchian means, it meant a slight excess of wine being presented to overtly stoic population, perhaps to add to some lightness in the atmosphere for the children.
In the weeks leading to the event, Thea made a few short moments to meet with Evras, noting her sister's excitement at reaching such a milestone in her son's life. The young Prince had made it through the most perilous years of youth, bypassing many of the worst illnesses and risks at such a young age. It was a blessing to see Dion grow, though with more and more time passing between visits, it seemed he grew by leaps and bounds each time Thea saw her beloved nephew.
The Thanasi siblings had arrived together but had drifted apart for some short amount of time, either to commune with others here and there, but eventually they stood near to one another. Thea resumed her place near to Mihail's shoulder, eyeing the small bow and arrow that he held as a gift for Dion. Saying nothing, however, she took a small sip of her wine and watched as the royal carriage arrived, a smile on her lips as she saw Dion adorned with a crown of flowers as opposed to his usual metal circlet.
Unable to resist, she smiled over to her nephew, raising a slight hand and waving just her fingers in a quiet hello. Circumstances had it so that her youngest Thanasi daughter had a marriage and a child well before the eldest two, and while it was normally of no major concern for Thea, the love she held for the youngest child of Thanasi blood often sent a little pang into the deepest parts of her chest, not quite longing but a primal want for someone of her age.
Then again, as her eyes passed over the face of her sister and Prince Zanon, they also fell upon Crown Prince Vangelis as he watched the family process towards the dais. There was a small ripple of wine-welcomed laughter as Dion gave a squeal of delight to see his two close friends, Aras and Babis of Eliades.
"I am not certain which side of the family he gets such energy from," Thea murmured towards Mihail's shoulder, "I would say the Kotas side, but then again..."
While the Thanasi family was not known for being the sunniest of families, they were not seemingly carved out of stone in the same manner as the Kotas brood.