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It was rare that Vangelis ever wished to be anyone else.
Despite the manner in which he lived: the high standards he was expected to make of his life in every area from academia to military to personal appearance - he had always enjoyed living as he did and as who he was. Vangelis took pride in his achievements and he took his duties and responsibilities seriously. He saw his work as baron, general and prince to Colchis as intrinsic parts of his world that he was honoured to do, rather than seeing them as a burden.
Even when it came to his personal life - how he could never be in a true relationship with a woman unless he knew that she held potential to be a Queen. How he needed to assess and analyse every new friendship that came his way in case it was a ruse to become cosy with a future king.
He was also aware of his weaknesses. Of his inability to understand the finer points of etiquette in Court and Senate. His tendency to place instinctive reaction over considered tactics and therefore put his own life in danger (that was a good one that Nike liked to criticise on more than one occasion).
And yet with all of those mingled elements that might make some cower away from the reality of being Crown Prince Vangelis and potentially amalgamating to form an existence that was not truly envied by many... Vangelis still had never truly wished to be anyone else.
Yet he did now.
Now, Vangelis wished to be someone with verbal skill. Someone with emotional connections. Someone who had some idea - any idea - how he was supposed to speak with Selene that morning.
The dawn had broken but Vangelis had not slept in the night so it was simply a change of light through his balcony rather than a summoning of the day. Taking a moment to wash, to shave the growth from his jaw and to find his most comfortable clothes of loose pants and shirt - for perhaps such news would be dealt with less of a blow if he wasn't displaying all his grand princely offerings when he took them away - Vangelis then turned to the door of his chambers.
It had been yesterday that he had spoken to Thea. In the same afternoon he had brought her back to the Kotas manor and installed her in a guest suite close to the Kotas quarters. He had made it non-negotiable that she was to stay there until he saw fit to permit her to leave.
What he was waiting for with that, he had no idea, as he was supposed to sail to Egypt in two days’ time. What he would do with Thea then, he had no clue.
But at least he could free Selene to do what she wished before then.
Not having been in a position to speak with her on the same day that such news came upon him, Vangelis had avoided dinner with his family and thereby avoided her. Instead, he had focused on this morning - looking ahead to when the sun would rise and Selene would take to the stables for her morning ride.
Which meant he knew where she was. And he knew that she was alone.
Squaring his shoulders and setting off down the corridors of his home, Vangelis was quick to take the familiar stairs that would lead him out a side door and into the courtyard. Reminiscences of Selene helping him down those steps when he had still been recovering from the rockslide in the mountains flashed through his brain but he shut them out, allowing the sunlight of the early morning to brush away the cobwebs of affectionate memory.
Moving towards the fence that separated cobbled yard from the grassy meadows, Vangelis vaulted the wood so that he was standing on the green side and then rested his rear against the cross beam. With his arms folded, his ankles crossed and his eyes out over the fields where he would see Selene return soon, he felt his jaw tighten and his throat swallow.
Just what in all Gods names was he going to say?
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was rare that Vangelis ever wished to be anyone else.
Despite the manner in which he lived: the high standards he was expected to make of his life in every area from academia to military to personal appearance - he had always enjoyed living as he did and as who he was. Vangelis took pride in his achievements and he took his duties and responsibilities seriously. He saw his work as baron, general and prince to Colchis as intrinsic parts of his world that he was honoured to do, rather than seeing them as a burden.
Even when it came to his personal life - how he could never be in a true relationship with a woman unless he knew that she held potential to be a Queen. How he needed to assess and analyse every new friendship that came his way in case it was a ruse to become cosy with a future king.
He was also aware of his weaknesses. Of his inability to understand the finer points of etiquette in Court and Senate. His tendency to place instinctive reaction over considered tactics and therefore put his own life in danger (that was a good one that Nike liked to criticise on more than one occasion).
And yet with all of those mingled elements that might make some cower away from the reality of being Crown Prince Vangelis and potentially amalgamating to form an existence that was not truly envied by many... Vangelis still had never truly wished to be anyone else.
Yet he did now.
Now, Vangelis wished to be someone with verbal skill. Someone with emotional connections. Someone who had some idea - any idea - how he was supposed to speak with Selene that morning.
The dawn had broken but Vangelis had not slept in the night so it was simply a change of light through his balcony rather than a summoning of the day. Taking a moment to wash, to shave the growth from his jaw and to find his most comfortable clothes of loose pants and shirt - for perhaps such news would be dealt with less of a blow if he wasn't displaying all his grand princely offerings when he took them away - Vangelis then turned to the door of his chambers.
It had been yesterday that he had spoken to Thea. In the same afternoon he had brought her back to the Kotas manor and installed her in a guest suite close to the Kotas quarters. He had made it non-negotiable that she was to stay there until he saw fit to permit her to leave.
What he was waiting for with that, he had no idea, as he was supposed to sail to Egypt in two days’ time. What he would do with Thea then, he had no clue.
But at least he could free Selene to do what she wished before then.
Not having been in a position to speak with her on the same day that such news came upon him, Vangelis had avoided dinner with his family and thereby avoided her. Instead, he had focused on this morning - looking ahead to when the sun would rise and Selene would take to the stables for her morning ride.
Which meant he knew where she was. And he knew that she was alone.
Squaring his shoulders and setting off down the corridors of his home, Vangelis was quick to take the familiar stairs that would lead him out a side door and into the courtyard. Reminiscences of Selene helping him down those steps when he had still been recovering from the rockslide in the mountains flashed through his brain but he shut them out, allowing the sunlight of the early morning to brush away the cobwebs of affectionate memory.
Moving towards the fence that separated cobbled yard from the grassy meadows, Vangelis vaulted the wood so that he was standing on the green side and then rested his rear against the cross beam. With his arms folded, his ankles crossed and his eyes out over the fields where he would see Selene return soon, he felt his jaw tighten and his throat swallow.
Just what in all Gods names was he going to say?
It was rare that Vangelis ever wished to be anyone else.
Despite the manner in which he lived: the high standards he was expected to make of his life in every area from academia to military to personal appearance - he had always enjoyed living as he did and as who he was. Vangelis took pride in his achievements and he took his duties and responsibilities seriously. He saw his work as baron, general and prince to Colchis as intrinsic parts of his world that he was honoured to do, rather than seeing them as a burden.
Even when it came to his personal life - how he could never be in a true relationship with a woman unless he knew that she held potential to be a Queen. How he needed to assess and analyse every new friendship that came his way in case it was a ruse to become cosy with a future king.
He was also aware of his weaknesses. Of his inability to understand the finer points of etiquette in Court and Senate. His tendency to place instinctive reaction over considered tactics and therefore put his own life in danger (that was a good one that Nike liked to criticise on more than one occasion).
And yet with all of those mingled elements that might make some cower away from the reality of being Crown Prince Vangelis and potentially amalgamating to form an existence that was not truly envied by many... Vangelis still had never truly wished to be anyone else.
Yet he did now.
Now, Vangelis wished to be someone with verbal skill. Someone with emotional connections. Someone who had some idea - any idea - how he was supposed to speak with Selene that morning.
The dawn had broken but Vangelis had not slept in the night so it was simply a change of light through his balcony rather than a summoning of the day. Taking a moment to wash, to shave the growth from his jaw and to find his most comfortable clothes of loose pants and shirt - for perhaps such news would be dealt with less of a blow if he wasn't displaying all his grand princely offerings when he took them away - Vangelis then turned to the door of his chambers.
It had been yesterday that he had spoken to Thea. In the same afternoon he had brought her back to the Kotas manor and installed her in a guest suite close to the Kotas quarters. He had made it non-negotiable that she was to stay there until he saw fit to permit her to leave.
What he was waiting for with that, he had no idea, as he was supposed to sail to Egypt in two days’ time. What he would do with Thea then, he had no clue.
But at least he could free Selene to do what she wished before then.
Not having been in a position to speak with her on the same day that such news came upon him, Vangelis had avoided dinner with his family and thereby avoided her. Instead, he had focused on this morning - looking ahead to when the sun would rise and Selene would take to the stables for her morning ride.
Which meant he knew where she was. And he knew that she was alone.
Squaring his shoulders and setting off down the corridors of his home, Vangelis was quick to take the familiar stairs that would lead him out a side door and into the courtyard. Reminiscences of Selene helping him down those steps when he had still been recovering from the rockslide in the mountains flashed through his brain but he shut them out, allowing the sunlight of the early morning to brush away the cobwebs of affectionate memory.
Moving towards the fence that separated cobbled yard from the grassy meadows, Vangelis vaulted the wood so that he was standing on the green side and then rested his rear against the cross beam. With his arms folded, his ankles crossed and his eyes out over the fields where he would see Selene return soon, he felt his jaw tighten and his throat swallow.
Just what in all Gods names was he going to say?
With all the chaos happening in the background of the Kotas manor, Selene found herself blissfully unaware of any of it. While her world was actively crumbling without her knowledge, the blonde was too preoccupied with her own thoughts and needed to know that anything was amiss. How was she to tell that Thea was now under the same roof, when she had spent her evening with her family at the Leventi manor? Her late arrival back at the manor meant that she hadn’t a chance to see anyone as she quietly made her way back to her rooms.
There was little indication that things were about to change for her.
So there had been no reason for her not to rise early, as she always did. It was before dawn, before the sun had even shown in the sky when she was getting out of bed. Jo didn’t seem to mind her early preference, always just outside her door with hot tea and a tray of fruits and bread to break her fast. Wrapped up in his himation (which was becoming her routine with breakfast), she settled into the small table by the windows. There was no hurry in her actions, the curtains pushed open to watch the world around her as she ate. Behind her, Jo worked to arrange her hair, pulling the front blonde pieces into a braid that met in the back. The style would keep her hair down, which was her preference these days, but still look put together for after her ride.
The weather in the mornings was turning cool, so the lighter split skirt chitons she wore in the summer were put away for a thicker cotton, her underpieces a warmer material as well. As much as she enjoyed the warmth of his wrap, she liked their secret of it. So as much as she wished to wear it riding, Selene opted for her own. The shorter material wouldn’t get in the way as she rode. Like the leaves, her clothing was changing to warmer tones as well. Her pastels were replaced with warm hues of auburn and olive, rich colors that seemed to match the changing environment around them. Her riding chiton differed in the single split across the front and back, her underskirts cut more delicately to allow normal riding. The rich hickory chiton was offset with the natural wool himation that Jo pinned to her shoulders so it would stay in place.
Her ride took the normal path, following the same path she and Vangelis had taken early in the visit. But instead of climbing up the mountains, she explored the terrain below, enjoying the increased difficulty of what would be her new home. The eldest Leventi felt as if she knew the land well enough now to let her horse wander, as she always seemed to find her way back no matter which way she took.
It was still early when the horse turned back towards the meadow, and their slowing pace as the Kotas land came into sight. Her back straightened as she realized that Vangelis was waiting for her. As she got closer, she didn’t notice his posture immediately. Instead, she slipped off her mount, landing on the dew wet grass with a smile. ”What a pleasant surprise!” Her voice was light with happiness, unable to deny how pleased she was to see him. Reigns in hand, she moved closer. It was then that she couldn’t deny the look on his face. She had spent enough time with him to know when something was not right.
He looked worried.
He looked… not like himself. ”Perhaps I should lend you my pretty statue, so you may sleep.” She was trying to disguise her concern, but she could not imagine the weight of what was going on in his mind. Tying the horse to the fence, she moved closer to him, placing a hand on his forearm. ”What is it? What's wrong?” His directness has rubbed off on her.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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With all the chaos happening in the background of the Kotas manor, Selene found herself blissfully unaware of any of it. While her world was actively crumbling without her knowledge, the blonde was too preoccupied with her own thoughts and needed to know that anything was amiss. How was she to tell that Thea was now under the same roof, when she had spent her evening with her family at the Leventi manor? Her late arrival back at the manor meant that she hadn’t a chance to see anyone as she quietly made her way back to her rooms.
There was little indication that things were about to change for her.
So there had been no reason for her not to rise early, as she always did. It was before dawn, before the sun had even shown in the sky when she was getting out of bed. Jo didn’t seem to mind her early preference, always just outside her door with hot tea and a tray of fruits and bread to break her fast. Wrapped up in his himation (which was becoming her routine with breakfast), she settled into the small table by the windows. There was no hurry in her actions, the curtains pushed open to watch the world around her as she ate. Behind her, Jo worked to arrange her hair, pulling the front blonde pieces into a braid that met in the back. The style would keep her hair down, which was her preference these days, but still look put together for after her ride.
The weather in the mornings was turning cool, so the lighter split skirt chitons she wore in the summer were put away for a thicker cotton, her underpieces a warmer material as well. As much as she enjoyed the warmth of his wrap, she liked their secret of it. So as much as she wished to wear it riding, Selene opted for her own. The shorter material wouldn’t get in the way as she rode. Like the leaves, her clothing was changing to warmer tones as well. Her pastels were replaced with warm hues of auburn and olive, rich colors that seemed to match the changing environment around them. Her riding chiton differed in the single split across the front and back, her underskirts cut more delicately to allow normal riding. The rich hickory chiton was offset with the natural wool himation that Jo pinned to her shoulders so it would stay in place.
Her ride took the normal path, following the same path she and Vangelis had taken early in the visit. But instead of climbing up the mountains, she explored the terrain below, enjoying the increased difficulty of what would be her new home. The eldest Leventi felt as if she knew the land well enough now to let her horse wander, as she always seemed to find her way back no matter which way she took.
It was still early when the horse turned back towards the meadow, and their slowing pace as the Kotas land came into sight. Her back straightened as she realized that Vangelis was waiting for her. As she got closer, she didn’t notice his posture immediately. Instead, she slipped off her mount, landing on the dew wet grass with a smile. ”What a pleasant surprise!” Her voice was light with happiness, unable to deny how pleased she was to see him. Reigns in hand, she moved closer. It was then that she couldn’t deny the look on his face. She had spent enough time with him to know when something was not right.
He looked worried.
He looked… not like himself. ”Perhaps I should lend you my pretty statue, so you may sleep.” She was trying to disguise her concern, but she could not imagine the weight of what was going on in his mind. Tying the horse to the fence, she moved closer to him, placing a hand on his forearm. ”What is it? What's wrong?” His directness has rubbed off on her.
With all the chaos happening in the background of the Kotas manor, Selene found herself blissfully unaware of any of it. While her world was actively crumbling without her knowledge, the blonde was too preoccupied with her own thoughts and needed to know that anything was amiss. How was she to tell that Thea was now under the same roof, when she had spent her evening with her family at the Leventi manor? Her late arrival back at the manor meant that she hadn’t a chance to see anyone as she quietly made her way back to her rooms.
There was little indication that things were about to change for her.
So there had been no reason for her not to rise early, as she always did. It was before dawn, before the sun had even shown in the sky when she was getting out of bed. Jo didn’t seem to mind her early preference, always just outside her door with hot tea and a tray of fruits and bread to break her fast. Wrapped up in his himation (which was becoming her routine with breakfast), she settled into the small table by the windows. There was no hurry in her actions, the curtains pushed open to watch the world around her as she ate. Behind her, Jo worked to arrange her hair, pulling the front blonde pieces into a braid that met in the back. The style would keep her hair down, which was her preference these days, but still look put together for after her ride.
The weather in the mornings was turning cool, so the lighter split skirt chitons she wore in the summer were put away for a thicker cotton, her underpieces a warmer material as well. As much as she enjoyed the warmth of his wrap, she liked their secret of it. So as much as she wished to wear it riding, Selene opted for her own. The shorter material wouldn’t get in the way as she rode. Like the leaves, her clothing was changing to warmer tones as well. Her pastels were replaced with warm hues of auburn and olive, rich colors that seemed to match the changing environment around them. Her riding chiton differed in the single split across the front and back, her underskirts cut more delicately to allow normal riding. The rich hickory chiton was offset with the natural wool himation that Jo pinned to her shoulders so it would stay in place.
Her ride took the normal path, following the same path she and Vangelis had taken early in the visit. But instead of climbing up the mountains, she explored the terrain below, enjoying the increased difficulty of what would be her new home. The eldest Leventi felt as if she knew the land well enough now to let her horse wander, as she always seemed to find her way back no matter which way she took.
It was still early when the horse turned back towards the meadow, and their slowing pace as the Kotas land came into sight. Her back straightened as she realized that Vangelis was waiting for her. As she got closer, she didn’t notice his posture immediately. Instead, she slipped off her mount, landing on the dew wet grass with a smile. ”What a pleasant surprise!” Her voice was light with happiness, unable to deny how pleased she was to see him. Reigns in hand, she moved closer. It was then that she couldn’t deny the look on his face. She had spent enough time with him to know when something was not right.
He looked worried.
He looked… not like himself. ”Perhaps I should lend you my pretty statue, so you may sleep.” She was trying to disguise her concern, but she could not imagine the weight of what was going on in his mind. Tying the horse to the fence, she moved closer to him, placing a hand on his forearm. ”What is it? What's wrong?” His directness has rubbed off on her.
Vangelis spotted her as soon as she came around the mountain path and out into the full view of the sunlit meadow. The dawning light caught at her hair and set it to white gold as she rode closer, out into the brightest parts of the grasslands that led out to the east of his home estate. There was a flash of auburn and another of red as the raiment she had chosen that day flash warm colour over the rump of his sister's white mare. It struck him anew how skilful a rider she was. Natural and instinctive. She moved with the animal. It was almost alluring in a strange sort of way.
Vangelis blinked. Nostalgia and loss were already playing games with his mind. Taunting him with the desirability of what he was about to lose. And worst of all, lose through a mistake of his own making.
Breathing in slow and steady through his nose, Vangelis felt his chest inflate, the cool air of the early morning seeping beneath his shirt where he had not bothered to don a himation despite the fall month of the year. The slice of cold against his skin and in his throat felt like adequate punishment right now.
Despite the fact that most people could never tell the thoughts and concerns that flowed behind his eyes, he should have come as no shock to him that Selene recognised something to be ill at ease with him the moment she was in a few feet of his presence. Her open smile of welcome and good morning evaporated to be replaced with a look of care and concern that hurt him all the more.
Not one to bully about the truth or play games with statements of facts, the truth hung on the tip of Vangelis' tongue ready to be blurted out the first instant she stepped close enough for him to murmur the weighted truth...
I can't marry you. I have to marry Thea of Thanasi. She carries by child.
With no knowledge as to the blossoming friendship between Thea and Selene and having no inclining of just how much this news would disrupt the relationships in Selene's life beyond that of only the one between themselves, Vangelis opened his mouth to say just what he planned but the noise halted in his throat.
Whether it was because he feared hurting her or because he simply didn't want to say it in the first place, Vangelis couldn't tell but, for some reason, he forced him to take a different tact - a means of communicating the truth a step at a time without it blasting them both off their feet...
"Thea of Thanasi is with child." He told her, his tone calm and a simple statement of fact, as he avoided any other comments that might speak to his own state of sleeplessness, the ache he felt behind his eyes from the drink he had shared with his brother the previous night, or how this news might connect to him...
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Vangelis spotted her as soon as she came around the mountain path and out into the full view of the sunlit meadow. The dawning light caught at her hair and set it to white gold as she rode closer, out into the brightest parts of the grasslands that led out to the east of his home estate. There was a flash of auburn and another of red as the raiment she had chosen that day flash warm colour over the rump of his sister's white mare. It struck him anew how skilful a rider she was. Natural and instinctive. She moved with the animal. It was almost alluring in a strange sort of way.
Vangelis blinked. Nostalgia and loss were already playing games with his mind. Taunting him with the desirability of what he was about to lose. And worst of all, lose through a mistake of his own making.
Breathing in slow and steady through his nose, Vangelis felt his chest inflate, the cool air of the early morning seeping beneath his shirt where he had not bothered to don a himation despite the fall month of the year. The slice of cold against his skin and in his throat felt like adequate punishment right now.
Despite the fact that most people could never tell the thoughts and concerns that flowed behind his eyes, he should have come as no shock to him that Selene recognised something to be ill at ease with him the moment she was in a few feet of his presence. Her open smile of welcome and good morning evaporated to be replaced with a look of care and concern that hurt him all the more.
Not one to bully about the truth or play games with statements of facts, the truth hung on the tip of Vangelis' tongue ready to be blurted out the first instant she stepped close enough for him to murmur the weighted truth...
I can't marry you. I have to marry Thea of Thanasi. She carries by child.
With no knowledge as to the blossoming friendship between Thea and Selene and having no inclining of just how much this news would disrupt the relationships in Selene's life beyond that of only the one between themselves, Vangelis opened his mouth to say just what he planned but the noise halted in his throat.
Whether it was because he feared hurting her or because he simply didn't want to say it in the first place, Vangelis couldn't tell but, for some reason, he forced him to take a different tact - a means of communicating the truth a step at a time without it blasting them both off their feet...
"Thea of Thanasi is with child." He told her, his tone calm and a simple statement of fact, as he avoided any other comments that might speak to his own state of sleeplessness, the ache he felt behind his eyes from the drink he had shared with his brother the previous night, or how this news might connect to him...
Vangelis spotted her as soon as she came around the mountain path and out into the full view of the sunlit meadow. The dawning light caught at her hair and set it to white gold as she rode closer, out into the brightest parts of the grasslands that led out to the east of his home estate. There was a flash of auburn and another of red as the raiment she had chosen that day flash warm colour over the rump of his sister's white mare. It struck him anew how skilful a rider she was. Natural and instinctive. She moved with the animal. It was almost alluring in a strange sort of way.
Vangelis blinked. Nostalgia and loss were already playing games with his mind. Taunting him with the desirability of what he was about to lose. And worst of all, lose through a mistake of his own making.
Breathing in slow and steady through his nose, Vangelis felt his chest inflate, the cool air of the early morning seeping beneath his shirt where he had not bothered to don a himation despite the fall month of the year. The slice of cold against his skin and in his throat felt like adequate punishment right now.
Despite the fact that most people could never tell the thoughts and concerns that flowed behind his eyes, he should have come as no shock to him that Selene recognised something to be ill at ease with him the moment she was in a few feet of his presence. Her open smile of welcome and good morning evaporated to be replaced with a look of care and concern that hurt him all the more.
Not one to bully about the truth or play games with statements of facts, the truth hung on the tip of Vangelis' tongue ready to be blurted out the first instant she stepped close enough for him to murmur the weighted truth...
I can't marry you. I have to marry Thea of Thanasi. She carries by child.
With no knowledge as to the blossoming friendship between Thea and Selene and having no inclining of just how much this news would disrupt the relationships in Selene's life beyond that of only the one between themselves, Vangelis opened his mouth to say just what he planned but the noise halted in his throat.
Whether it was because he feared hurting her or because he simply didn't want to say it in the first place, Vangelis couldn't tell but, for some reason, he forced him to take a different tact - a means of communicating the truth a step at a time without it blasting them both off their feet...
"Thea of Thanasi is with child." He told her, his tone calm and a simple statement of fact, as he avoided any other comments that might speak to his own state of sleeplessness, the ache he felt behind his eyes from the drink he had shared with his brother the previous night, or how this news might connect to him...
There was a need to brace herself, simply by the look on his face. Whatever he was concerned about was enough to bring him out to her without fear of outside eyes. Could there be more to the war than he was letting on? Had something happened to her father and he needed to tell her the news? Her mind wandered to the worst cases, all of which were growing one on top of the other. She was trying not to be outwardly apparent in his worry, and yet, he would know her well enough by now to see it on her face.
And even more so, she would not disguise her reactions from him. She promised honesty with him and it was what she would give.
There was much she was still learning about the man, and it was impossible not to note the pain in his eyes. It hadn’t been the same one she saw when he took the crown as his own, but there was still a regret and sorrow that she couldn’t place. And it was even harder because he was not one to believe in regret-- he had told her that himself.
So why did he look so forlorn?
She almost didn’t hear the words from his mouth, not when he spoke of Thea. Strange news for him to share with her, what with her almost daily meetings with the Thanasi herself. ”She never said a word of it to me.” She said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Why wouldn’t Thea tell her such things? Was she ashamed of her actions, or think that Selene would judge her based on her unmarried status? It seemed so odd that he had decided to tell her in such a private matter.
”But that still does not account for why she sent you to tell me of it.” Her laugh was an amused one. ”Unless you are the father, of course. Then, it would only make sense if you were the one to tell me.” She had obviously meant it as a joke, her eyes on his as she watched the play of emotions on his face. When he said nothing, when there was no outright denial in her statement, Selene let her hand slip into his. She needed him to deny her statement, to laugh with her and promise that the opposite was true and that Thea had simply asked him to tell her. ”Which would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?”
She could feel the slow crushing of her heart with each moment of silence on his end.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There was a need to brace herself, simply by the look on his face. Whatever he was concerned about was enough to bring him out to her without fear of outside eyes. Could there be more to the war than he was letting on? Had something happened to her father and he needed to tell her the news? Her mind wandered to the worst cases, all of which were growing one on top of the other. She was trying not to be outwardly apparent in his worry, and yet, he would know her well enough by now to see it on her face.
And even more so, she would not disguise her reactions from him. She promised honesty with him and it was what she would give.
There was much she was still learning about the man, and it was impossible not to note the pain in his eyes. It hadn’t been the same one she saw when he took the crown as his own, but there was still a regret and sorrow that she couldn’t place. And it was even harder because he was not one to believe in regret-- he had told her that himself.
So why did he look so forlorn?
She almost didn’t hear the words from his mouth, not when he spoke of Thea. Strange news for him to share with her, what with her almost daily meetings with the Thanasi herself. ”She never said a word of it to me.” She said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Why wouldn’t Thea tell her such things? Was she ashamed of her actions, or think that Selene would judge her based on her unmarried status? It seemed so odd that he had decided to tell her in such a private matter.
”But that still does not account for why she sent you to tell me of it.” Her laugh was an amused one. ”Unless you are the father, of course. Then, it would only make sense if you were the one to tell me.” She had obviously meant it as a joke, her eyes on his as she watched the play of emotions on his face. When he said nothing, when there was no outright denial in her statement, Selene let her hand slip into his. She needed him to deny her statement, to laugh with her and promise that the opposite was true and that Thea had simply asked him to tell her. ”Which would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?”
She could feel the slow crushing of her heart with each moment of silence on his end.
There was a need to brace herself, simply by the look on his face. Whatever he was concerned about was enough to bring him out to her without fear of outside eyes. Could there be more to the war than he was letting on? Had something happened to her father and he needed to tell her the news? Her mind wandered to the worst cases, all of which were growing one on top of the other. She was trying not to be outwardly apparent in his worry, and yet, he would know her well enough by now to see it on her face.
And even more so, she would not disguise her reactions from him. She promised honesty with him and it was what she would give.
There was much she was still learning about the man, and it was impossible not to note the pain in his eyes. It hadn’t been the same one she saw when he took the crown as his own, but there was still a regret and sorrow that she couldn’t place. And it was even harder because he was not one to believe in regret-- he had told her that himself.
So why did he look so forlorn?
She almost didn’t hear the words from his mouth, not when he spoke of Thea. Strange news for him to share with her, what with her almost daily meetings with the Thanasi herself. ”She never said a word of it to me.” She said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Why wouldn’t Thea tell her such things? Was she ashamed of her actions, or think that Selene would judge her based on her unmarried status? It seemed so odd that he had decided to tell her in such a private matter.
”But that still does not account for why she sent you to tell me of it.” Her laugh was an amused one. ”Unless you are the father, of course. Then, it would only make sense if you were the one to tell me.” She had obviously meant it as a joke, her eyes on his as she watched the play of emotions on his face. When he said nothing, when there was no outright denial in her statement, Selene let her hand slip into his. She needed him to deny her statement, to laugh with her and promise that the opposite was true and that Thea had simply asked him to tell her. ”Which would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?”
She could feel the slow crushing of her heart with each moment of silence on his end.
Vangelis knew that Selene was growing tense the longer he remained so decidedly stoic and forlorn in front of her. His mere hesitation over explaining the topic that had drawn him out to the meadows and paddock would be enough to imply the severity of the news he had to impart. Whilst he did not outwardly recognise his ability to read her features as a symptom of their developing closeness, their progressing relationship, the simply fact was that he did. He could see it in the tightness around her eyes, the taut corners of her mouth that she was worried at his presence and the way in which he was now approaching their discussion.
When Selene heard what he had to say in regards to Thea her reaction was one of surprise and he glanced down from her face to where her hand rested upon his arm. He curled his fingers, the warm tan of his forearm flexing beneath her touch and rising to meet her palm.
He heard her comment of not having been told by Thea herself and wondered at that momentarily, concerned that the two women might know one another beyond that of casual, passing acquaintances. But now was not the time to be concerned over such things as an I'll timed joke left Selene's lips - likely as a hopeful means of assuaging a suspicious concern over why he was telling her such news.
When she asked him of the parentage of the child, Vangelis looked up from where he had been watching the pretty pale lengths of her fingers over his arm and looked down to meet her gaze from his towering height. He said nothing, his mouth not even opening in an effort to do so. Instead he simply watched her with a lowered brow of hurt and regret over the whole situation.
When she asked him again, pressing that such a case - that he could be the father of Thea's child was ridiculous - Vangelis couldn't help but think that to be exactly the case.
His expression remaining what it was, Vangelis swallowed, the column of his throat sweeping down with the motion, his eyes utterly calm as they stared down into hers, unblinking to confirm the honesty in his next words.
"Sometimes... The truth is ridiculous." He said, the tone in his voice a sad one...
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Vangelis knew that Selene was growing tense the longer he remained so decidedly stoic and forlorn in front of her. His mere hesitation over explaining the topic that had drawn him out to the meadows and paddock would be enough to imply the severity of the news he had to impart. Whilst he did not outwardly recognise his ability to read her features as a symptom of their developing closeness, their progressing relationship, the simply fact was that he did. He could see it in the tightness around her eyes, the taut corners of her mouth that she was worried at his presence and the way in which he was now approaching their discussion.
When Selene heard what he had to say in regards to Thea her reaction was one of surprise and he glanced down from her face to where her hand rested upon his arm. He curled his fingers, the warm tan of his forearm flexing beneath her touch and rising to meet her palm.
He heard her comment of not having been told by Thea herself and wondered at that momentarily, concerned that the two women might know one another beyond that of casual, passing acquaintances. But now was not the time to be concerned over such things as an I'll timed joke left Selene's lips - likely as a hopeful means of assuaging a suspicious concern over why he was telling her such news.
When she asked him of the parentage of the child, Vangelis looked up from where he had been watching the pretty pale lengths of her fingers over his arm and looked down to meet her gaze from his towering height. He said nothing, his mouth not even opening in an effort to do so. Instead he simply watched her with a lowered brow of hurt and regret over the whole situation.
When she asked him again, pressing that such a case - that he could be the father of Thea's child was ridiculous - Vangelis couldn't help but think that to be exactly the case.
His expression remaining what it was, Vangelis swallowed, the column of his throat sweeping down with the motion, his eyes utterly calm as they stared down into hers, unblinking to confirm the honesty in his next words.
"Sometimes... The truth is ridiculous." He said, the tone in his voice a sad one...
Vangelis knew that Selene was growing tense the longer he remained so decidedly stoic and forlorn in front of her. His mere hesitation over explaining the topic that had drawn him out to the meadows and paddock would be enough to imply the severity of the news he had to impart. Whilst he did not outwardly recognise his ability to read her features as a symptom of their developing closeness, their progressing relationship, the simply fact was that he did. He could see it in the tightness around her eyes, the taut corners of her mouth that she was worried at his presence and the way in which he was now approaching their discussion.
When Selene heard what he had to say in regards to Thea her reaction was one of surprise and he glanced down from her face to where her hand rested upon his arm. He curled his fingers, the warm tan of his forearm flexing beneath her touch and rising to meet her palm.
He heard her comment of not having been told by Thea herself and wondered at that momentarily, concerned that the two women might know one another beyond that of casual, passing acquaintances. But now was not the time to be concerned over such things as an I'll timed joke left Selene's lips - likely as a hopeful means of assuaging a suspicious concern over why he was telling her such news.
When she asked him of the parentage of the child, Vangelis looked up from where he had been watching the pretty pale lengths of her fingers over his arm and looked down to meet her gaze from his towering height. He said nothing, his mouth not even opening in an effort to do so. Instead he simply watched her with a lowered brow of hurt and regret over the whole situation.
When she asked him again, pressing that such a case - that he could be the father of Thea's child was ridiculous - Vangelis couldn't help but think that to be exactly the case.
His expression remaining what it was, Vangelis swallowed, the column of his throat sweeping down with the motion, his eyes utterly calm as they stared down into hers, unblinking to confirm the honesty in his next words.
"Sometimes... The truth is ridiculous." He said, the tone in his voice a sad one...
There had been a time where she would have laughed at the irony of this. Perhaps, in the months to come, she would be able to find some sort of humor in the situation. And perhaps that was why she started in with a joke-- this could not be her fate. And yet, with the seriousness on his face there was little doubt of what was meant in his presence.
Thea was pregnant with his child.
The thought caused her to pale, cause her grip on his arm to tighten a little so she did not swoon at the insanity of that statement. Thea has never mentioned any of this to her! She had all but poured her heart out to the dark-haired Thanasi, had shared in joint secrets with the woman who seemed to be stealing the very life she had come to want to fight for. Was this her plan all along? Pretend to be friends with her, only to revel in the pain that would come with the news?
No, she didn't want to believe that. But she didn't want to believe any of this. She wanted to turn back time, to stop whatever happened between them.
”When?” The betrayal was hard to keep out of her voice, soft in its volume. She stepped back, head shaking, ”No, I don't need to know. I saw the marks. I just never…” She had assumed it was some servant girl who had left the love marks on his body, and hadn't been phased by them. Instead, it was a noble-- the very rank that could steal her life without blinking an eye. ”And you are certain?” Everything was twisting around her, and the world seemed to tilt into a new axis in which she had no footing. She didn't need to clarify her question. You are certain it is yours? That she is pregnant?
He would not be standing in front of her if he was not sure of those things.
There had been a moment where she could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears. But it ebbed, just as she felt her resolve slipping away. Her arms fell to her side, glad the himation was pinned into place as it would have fallen to the ground with the lack of attention. Did her eyes shine with the frustrated tears she was trying to hold back? She took a deep breath, eyes closing to try to center herself in anything. Hands clasping together in front of her, she dug her nails into the fleshy palms, begging for some sort of sign that this was a dream.
The pain of her actions made it all too real.
”No.” She said quietly, her hand coming up to stop any attempt to explain. ”No, you would not be here if you were not sure.” Her eyes met his, hoping she looked stronger than she felt. ”So now what?”
Why, Gods? she silently begged. But the lack of answer from them was not surprising.
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There had been a time where she would have laughed at the irony of this. Perhaps, in the months to come, she would be able to find some sort of humor in the situation. And perhaps that was why she started in with a joke-- this could not be her fate. And yet, with the seriousness on his face there was little doubt of what was meant in his presence.
Thea was pregnant with his child.
The thought caused her to pale, cause her grip on his arm to tighten a little so she did not swoon at the insanity of that statement. Thea has never mentioned any of this to her! She had all but poured her heart out to the dark-haired Thanasi, had shared in joint secrets with the woman who seemed to be stealing the very life she had come to want to fight for. Was this her plan all along? Pretend to be friends with her, only to revel in the pain that would come with the news?
No, she didn't want to believe that. But she didn't want to believe any of this. She wanted to turn back time, to stop whatever happened between them.
”When?” The betrayal was hard to keep out of her voice, soft in its volume. She stepped back, head shaking, ”No, I don't need to know. I saw the marks. I just never…” She had assumed it was some servant girl who had left the love marks on his body, and hadn't been phased by them. Instead, it was a noble-- the very rank that could steal her life without blinking an eye. ”And you are certain?” Everything was twisting around her, and the world seemed to tilt into a new axis in which she had no footing. She didn't need to clarify her question. You are certain it is yours? That she is pregnant?
He would not be standing in front of her if he was not sure of those things.
There had been a moment where she could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears. But it ebbed, just as she felt her resolve slipping away. Her arms fell to her side, glad the himation was pinned into place as it would have fallen to the ground with the lack of attention. Did her eyes shine with the frustrated tears she was trying to hold back? She took a deep breath, eyes closing to try to center herself in anything. Hands clasping together in front of her, she dug her nails into the fleshy palms, begging for some sort of sign that this was a dream.
The pain of her actions made it all too real.
”No.” She said quietly, her hand coming up to stop any attempt to explain. ”No, you would not be here if you were not sure.” Her eyes met his, hoping she looked stronger than she felt. ”So now what?”
Why, Gods? she silently begged. But the lack of answer from them was not surprising.
There had been a time where she would have laughed at the irony of this. Perhaps, in the months to come, she would be able to find some sort of humor in the situation. And perhaps that was why she started in with a joke-- this could not be her fate. And yet, with the seriousness on his face there was little doubt of what was meant in his presence.
Thea was pregnant with his child.
The thought caused her to pale, cause her grip on his arm to tighten a little so she did not swoon at the insanity of that statement. Thea has never mentioned any of this to her! She had all but poured her heart out to the dark-haired Thanasi, had shared in joint secrets with the woman who seemed to be stealing the very life she had come to want to fight for. Was this her plan all along? Pretend to be friends with her, only to revel in the pain that would come with the news?
No, she didn't want to believe that. But she didn't want to believe any of this. She wanted to turn back time, to stop whatever happened between them.
”When?” The betrayal was hard to keep out of her voice, soft in its volume. She stepped back, head shaking, ”No, I don't need to know. I saw the marks. I just never…” She had assumed it was some servant girl who had left the love marks on his body, and hadn't been phased by them. Instead, it was a noble-- the very rank that could steal her life without blinking an eye. ”And you are certain?” Everything was twisting around her, and the world seemed to tilt into a new axis in which she had no footing. She didn't need to clarify her question. You are certain it is yours? That she is pregnant?
He would not be standing in front of her if he was not sure of those things.
There had been a moment where she could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears. But it ebbed, just as she felt her resolve slipping away. Her arms fell to her side, glad the himation was pinned into place as it would have fallen to the ground with the lack of attention. Did her eyes shine with the frustrated tears she was trying to hold back? She took a deep breath, eyes closing to try to center herself in anything. Hands clasping together in front of her, she dug her nails into the fleshy palms, begging for some sort of sign that this was a dream.
The pain of her actions made it all too real.
”No.” She said quietly, her hand coming up to stop any attempt to explain. ”No, you would not be here if you were not sure.” Her eyes met his, hoping she looked stronger than she felt. ”So now what?”
Why, Gods? she silently begged. But the lack of answer from them was not surprising.
Had he been the sort to flush in the face of awkward conversations, Vangelis would have grown red in the cheeks at Selene's comment regarding 'marks'. He hadn't realised that the woman before him had noticed any of the souvenirs that Thea's lips and nails had left in his flesh. And he held no apology or humiliation over them. For whilst he had been considering asking Selene for her hand since they had sailed from Taengea back to Midas, he had not made any such arrangements when he had bedded Thea. Not that there had been a bed involved, or that he had planned it as such. He had been in an emotional state over his father's death and about his future as monarch and Thea had been a useful tool of tension-relief.
Such a tool and opportunity were hardly something he had wanted to hold long-term effects.
Not answering the question that she immediately covered herself, the gesture of her hand eradicating all need for an answer from his own lips. Just as he didn't answer the query on whether or not he was certain.
He could have given her facts, given her information on Thea's nausea, her inability to eat, her weight gain and her missed period of bleeding. He could reveal all the details that Thea had given in order to explain her confidence that such a happenstance had come to pass. But he saw no reason to betray such private information and his silence was answer enough for Selene's needs. It was easy to see that she was quick to acknowledge that he wouldn't have come to her if he wasn't certain.
Feeling something tear in the vicinity of his chest when he noted the glimmer of moisture in Selene's eyes, Vangelis' expression clamped down to an even harder, emotionless state. Not wishing to make this harder or show the manner in which his own emotions were coming into play, he remained the Stone Prince before her, yielding no out or alternative option for the two of them.
When she removed her hold from his arm, her hands falling to her sides, the cold swooped in over his skin, leeching the warmth of her touch from where it had rested and, for a moment, he felt bereft.
Then she turned to him asking the question that he knew would come. The question that would likely make his actions and decisions unforgiveable to her; that would severe the connection and care that they had built for several months.
For, up until now, Vangelis could blame everything on other circumstances. His father's death, his previous connection to Thea, the fact that both of them had been together on numerous occasions but never created a child, the fact that Thea had done nothing different for one to exist now. By all intents and purposes, Vangelis could argue that such an eventuality had been preordained by the Gods. That he and Thea had been meant to parent a child.
Beyond that and what was done of it, was down to his choice.
He knew that Thea did not wish to marry him. He knew that she did not wish to have the babe at all. He himself had already chosen another for his Queen. Nobles and royals alike had illegitimate children all the time. Whilst he might not pay heed to courtly gossip, such a thing was a fact of life. Children were born outside of their parents' wedlock every day.
Vangelis would be entirely within his rights to deny his paternity, to cast yet another Thanasi in the light of trying to grab hold of the power and authority of the throne. Or to perhaps support Thea in secret, providing for a child he would never claim.
All were valid options that would damage his reputation and his honour in no particular way.
But Vangelis, for whatever reason, had grown up with a sense of old-fashioned duty and a desire to monopolise the concept of children. His family believed in blood above all else. He believed in the responsibility of parentage and the possession of one’s own offspring.
He had been determined, since he was young, that the only heirs he produced would be with his wife; with his Queen. It had been how he had always imagined it, how he had always planned it. And he simply couldn't accept it being any different than how he had always envisioned.
And whilst he cared for Selene... in a way that he had not cared for another woman... he did not yet realise any great passion that would override decades of determination and lineage.
So, when Selene asked him what was to be done now, Vangelis could do nothing but offer her the basic information that would lead her down the same thought process he had already tread. That would allow her to come to the same conclusion he had, even if it hurt and even if she did not agree with it.
"I do not expect your forgiveness or understanding..." Vangelis began, the manner of his speech open and accepting of whatever hostility his next words might engender within her. "...but I cannot permit a child of my blood to grow up under the stigma of illegitimacy."
The words were basic, profound and defiant. But what they truly said was: I have to marry Thea. Which means, I cannot marry you.
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Had he been the sort to flush in the face of awkward conversations, Vangelis would have grown red in the cheeks at Selene's comment regarding 'marks'. He hadn't realised that the woman before him had noticed any of the souvenirs that Thea's lips and nails had left in his flesh. And he held no apology or humiliation over them. For whilst he had been considering asking Selene for her hand since they had sailed from Taengea back to Midas, he had not made any such arrangements when he had bedded Thea. Not that there had been a bed involved, or that he had planned it as such. He had been in an emotional state over his father's death and about his future as monarch and Thea had been a useful tool of tension-relief.
Such a tool and opportunity were hardly something he had wanted to hold long-term effects.
Not answering the question that she immediately covered herself, the gesture of her hand eradicating all need for an answer from his own lips. Just as he didn't answer the query on whether or not he was certain.
He could have given her facts, given her information on Thea's nausea, her inability to eat, her weight gain and her missed period of bleeding. He could reveal all the details that Thea had given in order to explain her confidence that such a happenstance had come to pass. But he saw no reason to betray such private information and his silence was answer enough for Selene's needs. It was easy to see that she was quick to acknowledge that he wouldn't have come to her if he wasn't certain.
Feeling something tear in the vicinity of his chest when he noted the glimmer of moisture in Selene's eyes, Vangelis' expression clamped down to an even harder, emotionless state. Not wishing to make this harder or show the manner in which his own emotions were coming into play, he remained the Stone Prince before her, yielding no out or alternative option for the two of them.
When she removed her hold from his arm, her hands falling to her sides, the cold swooped in over his skin, leeching the warmth of her touch from where it had rested and, for a moment, he felt bereft.
Then she turned to him asking the question that he knew would come. The question that would likely make his actions and decisions unforgiveable to her; that would severe the connection and care that they had built for several months.
For, up until now, Vangelis could blame everything on other circumstances. His father's death, his previous connection to Thea, the fact that both of them had been together on numerous occasions but never created a child, the fact that Thea had done nothing different for one to exist now. By all intents and purposes, Vangelis could argue that such an eventuality had been preordained by the Gods. That he and Thea had been meant to parent a child.
Beyond that and what was done of it, was down to his choice.
He knew that Thea did not wish to marry him. He knew that she did not wish to have the babe at all. He himself had already chosen another for his Queen. Nobles and royals alike had illegitimate children all the time. Whilst he might not pay heed to courtly gossip, such a thing was a fact of life. Children were born outside of their parents' wedlock every day.
Vangelis would be entirely within his rights to deny his paternity, to cast yet another Thanasi in the light of trying to grab hold of the power and authority of the throne. Or to perhaps support Thea in secret, providing for a child he would never claim.
All were valid options that would damage his reputation and his honour in no particular way.
But Vangelis, for whatever reason, had grown up with a sense of old-fashioned duty and a desire to monopolise the concept of children. His family believed in blood above all else. He believed in the responsibility of parentage and the possession of one’s own offspring.
He had been determined, since he was young, that the only heirs he produced would be with his wife; with his Queen. It had been how he had always imagined it, how he had always planned it. And he simply couldn't accept it being any different than how he had always envisioned.
And whilst he cared for Selene... in a way that he had not cared for another woman... he did not yet realise any great passion that would override decades of determination and lineage.
So, when Selene asked him what was to be done now, Vangelis could do nothing but offer her the basic information that would lead her down the same thought process he had already tread. That would allow her to come to the same conclusion he had, even if it hurt and even if she did not agree with it.
"I do not expect your forgiveness or understanding..." Vangelis began, the manner of his speech open and accepting of whatever hostility his next words might engender within her. "...but I cannot permit a child of my blood to grow up under the stigma of illegitimacy."
The words were basic, profound and defiant. But what they truly said was: I have to marry Thea. Which means, I cannot marry you.
Had he been the sort to flush in the face of awkward conversations, Vangelis would have grown red in the cheeks at Selene's comment regarding 'marks'. He hadn't realised that the woman before him had noticed any of the souvenirs that Thea's lips and nails had left in his flesh. And he held no apology or humiliation over them. For whilst he had been considering asking Selene for her hand since they had sailed from Taengea back to Midas, he had not made any such arrangements when he had bedded Thea. Not that there had been a bed involved, or that he had planned it as such. He had been in an emotional state over his father's death and about his future as monarch and Thea had been a useful tool of tension-relief.
Such a tool and opportunity were hardly something he had wanted to hold long-term effects.
Not answering the question that she immediately covered herself, the gesture of her hand eradicating all need for an answer from his own lips. Just as he didn't answer the query on whether or not he was certain.
He could have given her facts, given her information on Thea's nausea, her inability to eat, her weight gain and her missed period of bleeding. He could reveal all the details that Thea had given in order to explain her confidence that such a happenstance had come to pass. But he saw no reason to betray such private information and his silence was answer enough for Selene's needs. It was easy to see that she was quick to acknowledge that he wouldn't have come to her if he wasn't certain.
Feeling something tear in the vicinity of his chest when he noted the glimmer of moisture in Selene's eyes, Vangelis' expression clamped down to an even harder, emotionless state. Not wishing to make this harder or show the manner in which his own emotions were coming into play, he remained the Stone Prince before her, yielding no out or alternative option for the two of them.
When she removed her hold from his arm, her hands falling to her sides, the cold swooped in over his skin, leeching the warmth of her touch from where it had rested and, for a moment, he felt bereft.
Then she turned to him asking the question that he knew would come. The question that would likely make his actions and decisions unforgiveable to her; that would severe the connection and care that they had built for several months.
For, up until now, Vangelis could blame everything on other circumstances. His father's death, his previous connection to Thea, the fact that both of them had been together on numerous occasions but never created a child, the fact that Thea had done nothing different for one to exist now. By all intents and purposes, Vangelis could argue that such an eventuality had been preordained by the Gods. That he and Thea had been meant to parent a child.
Beyond that and what was done of it, was down to his choice.
He knew that Thea did not wish to marry him. He knew that she did not wish to have the babe at all. He himself had already chosen another for his Queen. Nobles and royals alike had illegitimate children all the time. Whilst he might not pay heed to courtly gossip, such a thing was a fact of life. Children were born outside of their parents' wedlock every day.
Vangelis would be entirely within his rights to deny his paternity, to cast yet another Thanasi in the light of trying to grab hold of the power and authority of the throne. Or to perhaps support Thea in secret, providing for a child he would never claim.
All were valid options that would damage his reputation and his honour in no particular way.
But Vangelis, for whatever reason, had grown up with a sense of old-fashioned duty and a desire to monopolise the concept of children. His family believed in blood above all else. He believed in the responsibility of parentage and the possession of one’s own offspring.
He had been determined, since he was young, that the only heirs he produced would be with his wife; with his Queen. It had been how he had always imagined it, how he had always planned it. And he simply couldn't accept it being any different than how he had always envisioned.
And whilst he cared for Selene... in a way that he had not cared for another woman... he did not yet realise any great passion that would override decades of determination and lineage.
So, when Selene asked him what was to be done now, Vangelis could do nothing but offer her the basic information that would lead her down the same thought process he had already tread. That would allow her to come to the same conclusion he had, even if it hurt and even if she did not agree with it.
"I do not expect your forgiveness or understanding..." Vangelis began, the manner of his speech open and accepting of whatever hostility his next words might engender within her. "...but I cannot permit a child of my blood to grow up under the stigma of illegitimacy."
The words were basic, profound and defiant. But what they truly said was: I have to marry Thea. Which means, I cannot marry you.
Her life was spiraling out of control, without a way to gain a grip on it. For a moment, it was as if she was on the outside looking into this moment. She could see the sorrow in his eyes and she knew he got no pleasure in this moment.
And when she stepped back to reflect on things, Selene would be able to face the truth-- that he was trying to make this easy on her. They both had their reservations about the match initially, but had promised each other to be the best for each other. He had been so resistant to marriage for so long, she knew that he hadn't asked her lightly. He wanted her, right? So it should have made it far more apparent to the Leventi that this was hurting him, too.
And yet, in the moment, she couldn't see any of that.
All she could see was the shame she would have to bear, once again. She would not be able to step foot in Colchis for a long time, having to abandon the relationships she had made there. She would have to face her father, who would simply tell her that his inclination towards the man had been right and that she had been foolish in the first place. She could almost see the vivid disappointment on her mother’s face, knowing that her eldest daughter had failed again to secure a match. Her sister’s taunting of her unmarriageable status would ring in her ears for some time to come, that she was too old to be suitable for anyone to wed.
And she would have to tell her uncle, who may have already spread the good news throughout those they were close to.
How could she handle the scorn? The looks of those who pitied her? How would she recover from this? And deep down, she wondered how she could face the Gods again. What punishment was this? What had she done that they had felt so right in their decision to take away her happiness? Had she not been a pious and true believer? Were her daily prayers not enough? How could she get back into their good graces if they already seemed prepared to keep her untouchable?
Each breath she took made it harder and harder for her to take the next. Selene found herself lightheaded, unable to really understand the flurry of emotions that overwhelmed her. There was little she could do to stop the thickness in her throat, which seemed to push the tears from her eyes down her cheeks. And just as quickly as she felt the sorrow build, she felt it replaced by anger.
Why would he propose to her with the possibility of an heir? How dare he get her hopes up, knowing fully well how much she had wanted this? Why would he be so cruel as to make her a part of his life, only to rip the floor out from under her? She had fought so hard to be his, only to have him discard her so simply. And why did he not seem more upset about this?
Retrospect would calm her heart, but that was no in his favor now.
With a choked back sob, she stepped closer. The undeniable sadness in her eyes was quickly replaced by fury. As soon as he was within arm’s reach, there was no stopping the next action. It was so out of character for her that even Selene would doubt it happened.
No, the only evidence of her next move would have been in the slight raising of her hand. The motion was fluid from there as her hand came up with speed, the sound of the palm of her hand firmly across his cheek breaking the silence that hung heavily in the air.
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Her life was spiraling out of control, without a way to gain a grip on it. For a moment, it was as if she was on the outside looking into this moment. She could see the sorrow in his eyes and she knew he got no pleasure in this moment.
And when she stepped back to reflect on things, Selene would be able to face the truth-- that he was trying to make this easy on her. They both had their reservations about the match initially, but had promised each other to be the best for each other. He had been so resistant to marriage for so long, she knew that he hadn't asked her lightly. He wanted her, right? So it should have made it far more apparent to the Leventi that this was hurting him, too.
And yet, in the moment, she couldn't see any of that.
All she could see was the shame she would have to bear, once again. She would not be able to step foot in Colchis for a long time, having to abandon the relationships she had made there. She would have to face her father, who would simply tell her that his inclination towards the man had been right and that she had been foolish in the first place. She could almost see the vivid disappointment on her mother’s face, knowing that her eldest daughter had failed again to secure a match. Her sister’s taunting of her unmarriageable status would ring in her ears for some time to come, that she was too old to be suitable for anyone to wed.
And she would have to tell her uncle, who may have already spread the good news throughout those they were close to.
How could she handle the scorn? The looks of those who pitied her? How would she recover from this? And deep down, she wondered how she could face the Gods again. What punishment was this? What had she done that they had felt so right in their decision to take away her happiness? Had she not been a pious and true believer? Were her daily prayers not enough? How could she get back into their good graces if they already seemed prepared to keep her untouchable?
Each breath she took made it harder and harder for her to take the next. Selene found herself lightheaded, unable to really understand the flurry of emotions that overwhelmed her. There was little she could do to stop the thickness in her throat, which seemed to push the tears from her eyes down her cheeks. And just as quickly as she felt the sorrow build, she felt it replaced by anger.
Why would he propose to her with the possibility of an heir? How dare he get her hopes up, knowing fully well how much she had wanted this? Why would he be so cruel as to make her a part of his life, only to rip the floor out from under her? She had fought so hard to be his, only to have him discard her so simply. And why did he not seem more upset about this?
Retrospect would calm her heart, but that was no in his favor now.
With a choked back sob, she stepped closer. The undeniable sadness in her eyes was quickly replaced by fury. As soon as he was within arm’s reach, there was no stopping the next action. It was so out of character for her that even Selene would doubt it happened.
No, the only evidence of her next move would have been in the slight raising of her hand. The motion was fluid from there as her hand came up with speed, the sound of the palm of her hand firmly across his cheek breaking the silence that hung heavily in the air.
Her life was spiraling out of control, without a way to gain a grip on it. For a moment, it was as if she was on the outside looking into this moment. She could see the sorrow in his eyes and she knew he got no pleasure in this moment.
And when she stepped back to reflect on things, Selene would be able to face the truth-- that he was trying to make this easy on her. They both had their reservations about the match initially, but had promised each other to be the best for each other. He had been so resistant to marriage for so long, she knew that he hadn't asked her lightly. He wanted her, right? So it should have made it far more apparent to the Leventi that this was hurting him, too.
And yet, in the moment, she couldn't see any of that.
All she could see was the shame she would have to bear, once again. She would not be able to step foot in Colchis for a long time, having to abandon the relationships she had made there. She would have to face her father, who would simply tell her that his inclination towards the man had been right and that she had been foolish in the first place. She could almost see the vivid disappointment on her mother’s face, knowing that her eldest daughter had failed again to secure a match. Her sister’s taunting of her unmarriageable status would ring in her ears for some time to come, that she was too old to be suitable for anyone to wed.
And she would have to tell her uncle, who may have already spread the good news throughout those they were close to.
How could she handle the scorn? The looks of those who pitied her? How would she recover from this? And deep down, she wondered how she could face the Gods again. What punishment was this? What had she done that they had felt so right in their decision to take away her happiness? Had she not been a pious and true believer? Were her daily prayers not enough? How could she get back into their good graces if they already seemed prepared to keep her untouchable?
Each breath she took made it harder and harder for her to take the next. Selene found herself lightheaded, unable to really understand the flurry of emotions that overwhelmed her. There was little she could do to stop the thickness in her throat, which seemed to push the tears from her eyes down her cheeks. And just as quickly as she felt the sorrow build, she felt it replaced by anger.
Why would he propose to her with the possibility of an heir? How dare he get her hopes up, knowing fully well how much she had wanted this? Why would he be so cruel as to make her a part of his life, only to rip the floor out from under her? She had fought so hard to be his, only to have him discard her so simply. And why did he not seem more upset about this?
Retrospect would calm her heart, but that was no in his favor now.
With a choked back sob, she stepped closer. The undeniable sadness in her eyes was quickly replaced by fury. As soon as he was within arm’s reach, there was no stopping the next action. It was so out of character for her that even Selene would doubt it happened.
No, the only evidence of her next move would have been in the slight raising of her hand. The motion was fluid from there as her hand came up with speed, the sound of the palm of her hand firmly across his cheek breaking the silence that hung heavily in the air.
Vangelis hadn't meant to hurt Selene. Secondly, he had no severe ego trip as to assume that he was such a wondrous match as to be upsetting to let go of. But he also wasn't entirely ignorant of the way the world worked. He was a crown prince. Selene was an eldest born child with parents understandably ambitious for a privileged union with a male of royal bloodline. He had made a promise of that union to her, to her family. And now, he was choosing to break it. He understood that, regardless of any personal feelings on their marriage - any emotions tied to them as people rather than heirs to their family names - was and addition but not sole reason for anger and resentment over his choice.
As such, he expected the tears. He expected the sheen of moisture in her eyes and the expression of hurt that her features morphed into as she understood his meaning, realised what he was denying and removing from their futures. He had meant what he had said - he expected neither forgiveness nor understanding from Selene. Only acceptance. Which his decision had forced upon her regardless.
What he hadn't expected - though perhaps he should have - was the way in which that ire manifested itself into physical action. A man of action himself, he was momentarily shocked at his own surprise when Selene's hand drew back and she unleashed her frustration in a resounding slap across his cheek. Despite the lightness of her frame and her delicate bearing, Selene's emotions made her strike powerful and Vangelis' head was forced to whip to the side.
The world around them was still for a moment.
A pulse beat openly in his neck and there was a jutting movement by his ear as his jaw clenched.
Vangelis didn't immediately turn back. He didn't launch a retaliation or show despisement for Selene's actions against him. Whilst the ingrained part of his Colchian psyche riled at the idea of a woman striking him - over-powering his honour in a single motion - he held the wrath at bay. A man who came from many victories on the battlefield, he held no need to prove his masculinity or power. Instead, he tried to offer Selene all that he could for her now - the opportunity to react in whatever manner was most cathartic for her.
Though it rankled his pride.
Swallowing, Vangelis turned slowly back to face the woman whom he had been determined to marry - whom he still wanted to marry. The woman that he believed - even more so now - had the compassion of a guardian and the strength of a leader, not to mention the acumen of an experience courtier. Who better to become queen of Colchis? And yet, another was going to. A Thanasi.
Torn for a moment, hovering over his decision, Vangelis pushed doubt from his mind. This was the choice that he had made. And he had learnt long ago that you made your decision and you stuck by it. You accepted your regrets and moved on.
"My apologies." He said, not knowing what else to say in the moment that would not make it worse. "My home is open to you for as long as you wish it."
And with that, Vangelis turned away.
He knew nothing else that he could think to do and instead of prolonging the awkward audience he created to her pain, he wanted to honour her at least with the privacy of her own emotions.
Or perhaps he just wanted to leave the conversation as soon as he could.
Vaulting the fence that separated meadow and courtyard of the stables, Vangelis deliberately refused to look back as he headed back inside to his new world order.
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Vangelis hadn't meant to hurt Selene. Secondly, he had no severe ego trip as to assume that he was such a wondrous match as to be upsetting to let go of. But he also wasn't entirely ignorant of the way the world worked. He was a crown prince. Selene was an eldest born child with parents understandably ambitious for a privileged union with a male of royal bloodline. He had made a promise of that union to her, to her family. And now, he was choosing to break it. He understood that, regardless of any personal feelings on their marriage - any emotions tied to them as people rather than heirs to their family names - was and addition but not sole reason for anger and resentment over his choice.
As such, he expected the tears. He expected the sheen of moisture in her eyes and the expression of hurt that her features morphed into as she understood his meaning, realised what he was denying and removing from their futures. He had meant what he had said - he expected neither forgiveness nor understanding from Selene. Only acceptance. Which his decision had forced upon her regardless.
What he hadn't expected - though perhaps he should have - was the way in which that ire manifested itself into physical action. A man of action himself, he was momentarily shocked at his own surprise when Selene's hand drew back and she unleashed her frustration in a resounding slap across his cheek. Despite the lightness of her frame and her delicate bearing, Selene's emotions made her strike powerful and Vangelis' head was forced to whip to the side.
The world around them was still for a moment.
A pulse beat openly in his neck and there was a jutting movement by his ear as his jaw clenched.
Vangelis didn't immediately turn back. He didn't launch a retaliation or show despisement for Selene's actions against him. Whilst the ingrained part of his Colchian psyche riled at the idea of a woman striking him - over-powering his honour in a single motion - he held the wrath at bay. A man who came from many victories on the battlefield, he held no need to prove his masculinity or power. Instead, he tried to offer Selene all that he could for her now - the opportunity to react in whatever manner was most cathartic for her.
Though it rankled his pride.
Swallowing, Vangelis turned slowly back to face the woman whom he had been determined to marry - whom he still wanted to marry. The woman that he believed - even more so now - had the compassion of a guardian and the strength of a leader, not to mention the acumen of an experience courtier. Who better to become queen of Colchis? And yet, another was going to. A Thanasi.
Torn for a moment, hovering over his decision, Vangelis pushed doubt from his mind. This was the choice that he had made. And he had learnt long ago that you made your decision and you stuck by it. You accepted your regrets and moved on.
"My apologies." He said, not knowing what else to say in the moment that would not make it worse. "My home is open to you for as long as you wish it."
And with that, Vangelis turned away.
He knew nothing else that he could think to do and instead of prolonging the awkward audience he created to her pain, he wanted to honour her at least with the privacy of her own emotions.
Or perhaps he just wanted to leave the conversation as soon as he could.
Vaulting the fence that separated meadow and courtyard of the stables, Vangelis deliberately refused to look back as he headed back inside to his new world order.
Vangelis hadn't meant to hurt Selene. Secondly, he had no severe ego trip as to assume that he was such a wondrous match as to be upsetting to let go of. But he also wasn't entirely ignorant of the way the world worked. He was a crown prince. Selene was an eldest born child with parents understandably ambitious for a privileged union with a male of royal bloodline. He had made a promise of that union to her, to her family. And now, he was choosing to break it. He understood that, regardless of any personal feelings on their marriage - any emotions tied to them as people rather than heirs to their family names - was and addition but not sole reason for anger and resentment over his choice.
As such, he expected the tears. He expected the sheen of moisture in her eyes and the expression of hurt that her features morphed into as she understood his meaning, realised what he was denying and removing from their futures. He had meant what he had said - he expected neither forgiveness nor understanding from Selene. Only acceptance. Which his decision had forced upon her regardless.
What he hadn't expected - though perhaps he should have - was the way in which that ire manifested itself into physical action. A man of action himself, he was momentarily shocked at his own surprise when Selene's hand drew back and she unleashed her frustration in a resounding slap across his cheek. Despite the lightness of her frame and her delicate bearing, Selene's emotions made her strike powerful and Vangelis' head was forced to whip to the side.
The world around them was still for a moment.
A pulse beat openly in his neck and there was a jutting movement by his ear as his jaw clenched.
Vangelis didn't immediately turn back. He didn't launch a retaliation or show despisement for Selene's actions against him. Whilst the ingrained part of his Colchian psyche riled at the idea of a woman striking him - over-powering his honour in a single motion - he held the wrath at bay. A man who came from many victories on the battlefield, he held no need to prove his masculinity or power. Instead, he tried to offer Selene all that he could for her now - the opportunity to react in whatever manner was most cathartic for her.
Though it rankled his pride.
Swallowing, Vangelis turned slowly back to face the woman whom he had been determined to marry - whom he still wanted to marry. The woman that he believed - even more so now - had the compassion of a guardian and the strength of a leader, not to mention the acumen of an experience courtier. Who better to become queen of Colchis? And yet, another was going to. A Thanasi.
Torn for a moment, hovering over his decision, Vangelis pushed doubt from his mind. This was the choice that he had made. And he had learnt long ago that you made your decision and you stuck by it. You accepted your regrets and moved on.
"My apologies." He said, not knowing what else to say in the moment that would not make it worse. "My home is open to you for as long as you wish it."
And with that, Vangelis turned away.
He knew nothing else that he could think to do and instead of prolonging the awkward audience he created to her pain, he wanted to honour her at least with the privacy of her own emotions.
Or perhaps he just wanted to leave the conversation as soon as he could.
Vaulting the fence that separated meadow and courtyard of the stables, Vangelis deliberately refused to look back as he headed back inside to his new world order.
There was always power in retrospect.
Looking back on this moment, she would always remember the absolute sadness on his face when he broke the news to her. Selene would never forget the shock on his face as she slapped him, would never forget the solid feel of her hand against his skin, or the roughness of his beard from the action. The sting of her hand would take days to resolve itself, and even then she could swear to anyone who asked that she still felt it.
But the one thing she would never forget was the pain of his choice, something she didn’t see until after her hand flew. The idea that he didn’t want this either was something that took her only a moment to realize. She was not the only one losing the future they had spoken of, one they both seemed to look forward to. Vangelis was losing his choice in wife, simply because he slept with someone at the wrong time. As direct of a man as he was, this was not something he wanted to do. But he had to, and there was little else to be done about it.
As quickly as she realized what she had done, her hand flew up over her mouth. Eyes flashing with an unknown emotion through the shine of the tears, Selene regretted the motion. She was rarely one to act out of anger, or of passion. Her life had been spent learning to be composed, and yet the rage that burned within her was one she didn’t know she could possess. This was not her, and while the action may have made anyone else feel better, it only made her feel all the worse.
And yet, she could say nothing. She tried to form words, but how did you effectively tell someone you loved that it was okay? None of this felt as if it was, and she longed to tell him something to make him feel better. He was off to war, with so much on his mind, and all she had done was show a side of herself she never wanted anyone to see. Perhaps it was best that she wouldn’t be Queen after all.
Watching him leave, she didn’t know how long she stood there afterwards. Perhaps she was waiting to wake up, that the nightmare she had found herself in would end. There had to be a different feeling that this one of being discarded, and perhaps she hoped she would find it. There was no acknowledgment of the stable hand who took the horse from her, no words of thanks or even recognition that someone else was there. All of the sudden, so early on in the day, she was exhausted.
How would she tell her family?
Jo found her first, confused as to why she was in the field alone in the first place. And concern was added to it by the dried trail of tears running down her cheeks. Clearing the lump in her throat with a thick swallow, Selene calmly explained that she wished Jo to pack their things for immediate removal to the Leventi manor. As soon as she agreed and left, Selene took a moment to appreciate the Kotas home. She would write to the Queen to thank her for her hospitality, she said to herself.
Numb, she turned, taking the long way around towards the city. And from there, the even longer walk to the Leventi Manor. There was no explanation to anyone as to why she was suddenly there, nor did she try to. Every time she tried to form the words, they broke apart in her mind. It wasn’t until she found refuge behind the closed door of the room she would reside in until they left that she finally allowed the hollow sob to be freed from her chest. Collapsing onto the bed, she let her emotions run freely from her body until exhaustion took over and she slept.
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Check out their information page here.
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There was always power in retrospect.
Looking back on this moment, she would always remember the absolute sadness on his face when he broke the news to her. Selene would never forget the shock on his face as she slapped him, would never forget the solid feel of her hand against his skin, or the roughness of his beard from the action. The sting of her hand would take days to resolve itself, and even then she could swear to anyone who asked that she still felt it.
But the one thing she would never forget was the pain of his choice, something she didn’t see until after her hand flew. The idea that he didn’t want this either was something that took her only a moment to realize. She was not the only one losing the future they had spoken of, one they both seemed to look forward to. Vangelis was losing his choice in wife, simply because he slept with someone at the wrong time. As direct of a man as he was, this was not something he wanted to do. But he had to, and there was little else to be done about it.
As quickly as she realized what she had done, her hand flew up over her mouth. Eyes flashing with an unknown emotion through the shine of the tears, Selene regretted the motion. She was rarely one to act out of anger, or of passion. Her life had been spent learning to be composed, and yet the rage that burned within her was one she didn’t know she could possess. This was not her, and while the action may have made anyone else feel better, it only made her feel all the worse.
And yet, she could say nothing. She tried to form words, but how did you effectively tell someone you loved that it was okay? None of this felt as if it was, and she longed to tell him something to make him feel better. He was off to war, with so much on his mind, and all she had done was show a side of herself she never wanted anyone to see. Perhaps it was best that she wouldn’t be Queen after all.
Watching him leave, she didn’t know how long she stood there afterwards. Perhaps she was waiting to wake up, that the nightmare she had found herself in would end. There had to be a different feeling that this one of being discarded, and perhaps she hoped she would find it. There was no acknowledgment of the stable hand who took the horse from her, no words of thanks or even recognition that someone else was there. All of the sudden, so early on in the day, she was exhausted.
How would she tell her family?
Jo found her first, confused as to why she was in the field alone in the first place. And concern was added to it by the dried trail of tears running down her cheeks. Clearing the lump in her throat with a thick swallow, Selene calmly explained that she wished Jo to pack their things for immediate removal to the Leventi manor. As soon as she agreed and left, Selene took a moment to appreciate the Kotas home. She would write to the Queen to thank her for her hospitality, she said to herself.
Numb, she turned, taking the long way around towards the city. And from there, the even longer walk to the Leventi Manor. There was no explanation to anyone as to why she was suddenly there, nor did she try to. Every time she tried to form the words, they broke apart in her mind. It wasn’t until she found refuge behind the closed door of the room she would reside in until they left that she finally allowed the hollow sob to be freed from her chest. Collapsing onto the bed, she let her emotions run freely from her body until exhaustion took over and she slept.
There was always power in retrospect.
Looking back on this moment, she would always remember the absolute sadness on his face when he broke the news to her. Selene would never forget the shock on his face as she slapped him, would never forget the solid feel of her hand against his skin, or the roughness of his beard from the action. The sting of her hand would take days to resolve itself, and even then she could swear to anyone who asked that she still felt it.
But the one thing she would never forget was the pain of his choice, something she didn’t see until after her hand flew. The idea that he didn’t want this either was something that took her only a moment to realize. She was not the only one losing the future they had spoken of, one they both seemed to look forward to. Vangelis was losing his choice in wife, simply because he slept with someone at the wrong time. As direct of a man as he was, this was not something he wanted to do. But he had to, and there was little else to be done about it.
As quickly as she realized what she had done, her hand flew up over her mouth. Eyes flashing with an unknown emotion through the shine of the tears, Selene regretted the motion. She was rarely one to act out of anger, or of passion. Her life had been spent learning to be composed, and yet the rage that burned within her was one she didn’t know she could possess. This was not her, and while the action may have made anyone else feel better, it only made her feel all the worse.
And yet, she could say nothing. She tried to form words, but how did you effectively tell someone you loved that it was okay? None of this felt as if it was, and she longed to tell him something to make him feel better. He was off to war, with so much on his mind, and all she had done was show a side of herself she never wanted anyone to see. Perhaps it was best that she wouldn’t be Queen after all.
Watching him leave, she didn’t know how long she stood there afterwards. Perhaps she was waiting to wake up, that the nightmare she had found herself in would end. There had to be a different feeling that this one of being discarded, and perhaps she hoped she would find it. There was no acknowledgment of the stable hand who took the horse from her, no words of thanks or even recognition that someone else was there. All of the sudden, so early on in the day, she was exhausted.
How would she tell her family?
Jo found her first, confused as to why she was in the field alone in the first place. And concern was added to it by the dried trail of tears running down her cheeks. Clearing the lump in her throat with a thick swallow, Selene calmly explained that she wished Jo to pack their things for immediate removal to the Leventi manor. As soon as she agreed and left, Selene took a moment to appreciate the Kotas home. She would write to the Queen to thank her for her hospitality, she said to herself.
Numb, she turned, taking the long way around towards the city. And from there, the even longer walk to the Leventi Manor. There was no explanation to anyone as to why she was suddenly there, nor did she try to. Every time she tried to form the words, they broke apart in her mind. It wasn’t until she found refuge behind the closed door of the room she would reside in until they left that she finally allowed the hollow sob to be freed from her chest. Collapsing onto the bed, she let her emotions run freely from her body until exhaustion took over and she slept.