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In the days since the ships had left for foreign shores, Leto had done her damnedest to keep herself preoccupied. Some days were spent around Myrinne and her siblings, with never a dull moment when so many to keep in line. Other days were now spent visiting with her new noble acquaintance-turned-friend, Imeeya of Drakos. In each other, they found ambitions that the Lady's fire and Leto's mind could postulate about potentially conquering in the days to come. It was exciting...or at least, it should have been.
While Leto doubted that Magnus had noticed the shift in her demeanor, given how busy a string of murders and whispers of a burgeoning criminal ring kept him. Her mother had noticed, but took the folkloric approach - it was the change in the season, or the weather, or one of those strange seasons in a woman's life as she grew.
In many ways, her mother was absolutely right about each.
Yes, the change in season marked the passage of time since the Colchian forces left, each sunrise and sunset bringing them into colder seasons - would there be snow on the ground when she saw them again?
Yes, it was the weather that had her frightened for the lives aboard the ships. While the winds that had whipped viciously at city, the stone of the mountains had never cracked, but to see it snap the wooden beams of buildings older than her parents set a deep, sinking fear in her heart for the ships at sea...
And, yes...the changing of seasons as a woman struck her deeply as she now came to terms with the fact that she had to cope with emotions that had been beyond her until now. Even though many women were wed before they were her age, 26, Leto had never felt the urge to rush into such things - particularly with a brother who could quite easily know more about any potential suitor before they ever were considered.
It was far worse than her mother's assumption that Leto was concerned she'd never marry - which, unfortunately, would easily have been the assumption, as Leto burst into tears at the simple comment. Eudora immediately lavished on the apologies and promises not to bring it up again, but Leto excused herself after assuring her mother that she was fine.
No, it was so much worse than that.
Leto was undoubtedly in love. Twice over.
And it was agonizing.
For the past few weeks, it felt as if Leto had been living with a cave in her chest, with only the words of locked-away letters and visions of replaying moments echoing in the darkness there. It would have made sense to pine and fret this way over one man who held her heart going to war...but two? It was nearing unbearable.
And, there was no one she could tell. No one to talk to about it all. Not only because of the situation but regarding who all was involved as well. It would have been one thing entirely if they were both here and she had to make a choice - which was hard enough in itself - but now, with both of them gone and their lives in the hands of the gods as to whether or not they would return? The thought alone clawed at her throat and burned her eyes, as if she was suffocating alive...all while trying her best to keep her newly-minted courtier smile in place.
Thankful for her routine of journeying to the Hall of the Gods, Leto prayed to Ares for the safety of the men heading into war, then to Athena for guidance and wisdom in her life. So many prayers said, and yet Leto felt none the wiser in her situation, deflating her so deeply until the thought crossed her mind as she passed the Aphrodisias...
Perhaps, she needed wisdom of the heart, not the mind.
Leto could easily have been painted as a prude or an spinster given how infrequently she stepped into the Aphrodisias, blue irises rounding as she eyed the statue of the bare goddess of love, brazen in her beauty. Leto swallowed slightly as she tugged part of her chiton back into place over her chest, without thinking. There were faint echoes of footsteps and sighs in the hallway, yet near the entrance seemed empty.
Uncertainty led her to biting her lip to the side, part of her questioning everything altogether, when a shock of bright red hair caught her attention - a demure woman wearing the garb of one a Priestess, someone close to her age and extremely friendly-looking.
"Excuse me," Leto said, her voice froggy at first, leading her to clear it, "I...was wondering if there was someone I could talk to...about a problem."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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In the days since the ships had left for foreign shores, Leto had done her damnedest to keep herself preoccupied. Some days were spent around Myrinne and her siblings, with never a dull moment when so many to keep in line. Other days were now spent visiting with her new noble acquaintance-turned-friend, Imeeya of Drakos. In each other, they found ambitions that the Lady's fire and Leto's mind could postulate about potentially conquering in the days to come. It was exciting...or at least, it should have been.
While Leto doubted that Magnus had noticed the shift in her demeanor, given how busy a string of murders and whispers of a burgeoning criminal ring kept him. Her mother had noticed, but took the folkloric approach - it was the change in the season, or the weather, or one of those strange seasons in a woman's life as she grew.
In many ways, her mother was absolutely right about each.
Yes, the change in season marked the passage of time since the Colchian forces left, each sunrise and sunset bringing them into colder seasons - would there be snow on the ground when she saw them again?
Yes, it was the weather that had her frightened for the lives aboard the ships. While the winds that had whipped viciously at city, the stone of the mountains had never cracked, but to see it snap the wooden beams of buildings older than her parents set a deep, sinking fear in her heart for the ships at sea...
And, yes...the changing of seasons as a woman struck her deeply as she now came to terms with the fact that she had to cope with emotions that had been beyond her until now. Even though many women were wed before they were her age, 26, Leto had never felt the urge to rush into such things - particularly with a brother who could quite easily know more about any potential suitor before they ever were considered.
It was far worse than her mother's assumption that Leto was concerned she'd never marry - which, unfortunately, would easily have been the assumption, as Leto burst into tears at the simple comment. Eudora immediately lavished on the apologies and promises not to bring it up again, but Leto excused herself after assuring her mother that she was fine.
No, it was so much worse than that.
Leto was undoubtedly in love. Twice over.
And it was agonizing.
For the past few weeks, it felt as if Leto had been living with a cave in her chest, with only the words of locked-away letters and visions of replaying moments echoing in the darkness there. It would have made sense to pine and fret this way over one man who held her heart going to war...but two? It was nearing unbearable.
And, there was no one she could tell. No one to talk to about it all. Not only because of the situation but regarding who all was involved as well. It would have been one thing entirely if they were both here and she had to make a choice - which was hard enough in itself - but now, with both of them gone and their lives in the hands of the gods as to whether or not they would return? The thought alone clawed at her throat and burned her eyes, as if she was suffocating alive...all while trying her best to keep her newly-minted courtier smile in place.
Thankful for her routine of journeying to the Hall of the Gods, Leto prayed to Ares for the safety of the men heading into war, then to Athena for guidance and wisdom in her life. So many prayers said, and yet Leto felt none the wiser in her situation, deflating her so deeply until the thought crossed her mind as she passed the Aphrodisias...
Perhaps, she needed wisdom of the heart, not the mind.
Leto could easily have been painted as a prude or an spinster given how infrequently she stepped into the Aphrodisias, blue irises rounding as she eyed the statue of the bare goddess of love, brazen in her beauty. Leto swallowed slightly as she tugged part of her chiton back into place over her chest, without thinking. There were faint echoes of footsteps and sighs in the hallway, yet near the entrance seemed empty.
Uncertainty led her to biting her lip to the side, part of her questioning everything altogether, when a shock of bright red hair caught her attention - a demure woman wearing the garb of one a Priestess, someone close to her age and extremely friendly-looking.
"Excuse me," Leto said, her voice froggy at first, leading her to clear it, "I...was wondering if there was someone I could talk to...about a problem."
In the days since the ships had left for foreign shores, Leto had done her damnedest to keep herself preoccupied. Some days were spent around Myrinne and her siblings, with never a dull moment when so many to keep in line. Other days were now spent visiting with her new noble acquaintance-turned-friend, Imeeya of Drakos. In each other, they found ambitions that the Lady's fire and Leto's mind could postulate about potentially conquering in the days to come. It was exciting...or at least, it should have been.
While Leto doubted that Magnus had noticed the shift in her demeanor, given how busy a string of murders and whispers of a burgeoning criminal ring kept him. Her mother had noticed, but took the folkloric approach - it was the change in the season, or the weather, or one of those strange seasons in a woman's life as she grew.
In many ways, her mother was absolutely right about each.
Yes, the change in season marked the passage of time since the Colchian forces left, each sunrise and sunset bringing them into colder seasons - would there be snow on the ground when she saw them again?
Yes, it was the weather that had her frightened for the lives aboard the ships. While the winds that had whipped viciously at city, the stone of the mountains had never cracked, but to see it snap the wooden beams of buildings older than her parents set a deep, sinking fear in her heart for the ships at sea...
And, yes...the changing of seasons as a woman struck her deeply as she now came to terms with the fact that she had to cope with emotions that had been beyond her until now. Even though many women were wed before they were her age, 26, Leto had never felt the urge to rush into such things - particularly with a brother who could quite easily know more about any potential suitor before they ever were considered.
It was far worse than her mother's assumption that Leto was concerned she'd never marry - which, unfortunately, would easily have been the assumption, as Leto burst into tears at the simple comment. Eudora immediately lavished on the apologies and promises not to bring it up again, but Leto excused herself after assuring her mother that she was fine.
No, it was so much worse than that.
Leto was undoubtedly in love. Twice over.
And it was agonizing.
For the past few weeks, it felt as if Leto had been living with a cave in her chest, with only the words of locked-away letters and visions of replaying moments echoing in the darkness there. It would have made sense to pine and fret this way over one man who held her heart going to war...but two? It was nearing unbearable.
And, there was no one she could tell. No one to talk to about it all. Not only because of the situation but regarding who all was involved as well. It would have been one thing entirely if they were both here and she had to make a choice - which was hard enough in itself - but now, with both of them gone and their lives in the hands of the gods as to whether or not they would return? The thought alone clawed at her throat and burned her eyes, as if she was suffocating alive...all while trying her best to keep her newly-minted courtier smile in place.
Thankful for her routine of journeying to the Hall of the Gods, Leto prayed to Ares for the safety of the men heading into war, then to Athena for guidance and wisdom in her life. So many prayers said, and yet Leto felt none the wiser in her situation, deflating her so deeply until the thought crossed her mind as she passed the Aphrodisias...
Perhaps, she needed wisdom of the heart, not the mind.
Leto could easily have been painted as a prude or an spinster given how infrequently she stepped into the Aphrodisias, blue irises rounding as she eyed the statue of the bare goddess of love, brazen in her beauty. Leto swallowed slightly as she tugged part of her chiton back into place over her chest, without thinking. There were faint echoes of footsteps and sighs in the hallway, yet near the entrance seemed empty.
Uncertainty led her to biting her lip to the side, part of her questioning everything altogether, when a shock of bright red hair caught her attention - a demure woman wearing the garb of one a Priestess, someone close to her age and extremely friendly-looking.
"Excuse me," Leto said, her voice froggy at first, leading her to clear it, "I...was wondering if there was someone I could talk to...about a problem."
It had been an uneventful week for the priestess Euterpe; with so many of the capital’s men off to war, there was not as much to work around. Some of her evenings were still spent in the same ecstatic calling that she had been reared for, but her days were mostly her own. Without much of a life beyond the temple, the flame-haired herbalist spent time on other tasks, instead, namely working on her potions and spending time amongst the supplicants in the temple proper.
While it did not hold the same thrill as the blissful hours she spent behind closed doors, it was still work she enjoyed. She believed she made a genuine difference in the lives of her fellow Colchians, offering advice and guidance where she could. While Colchians were known for their steady heads and lack of ostentatious expression, their hearts beat the same as any other. Even if they did not declare their love from the rooftops or openly engage in the lurid affairs of say, the Taengeans, matters of the heart affected everyone. And she found the ones who did not know how to express it were the often the ones that needed the most help.
A white peplos of finely woven silk fluttered in the breeze her movements created as Euterpe walked through the stony sanctuary of the goddess of love. It was a warmer than average day for the time of year, and she was grateful for the airy fabric as she made her way toward Aphrodite’s statue. A shock of red hair framed the woman’s face, pushing the curls away as she tilted her head back to gaze upon the visage of her beloved goddess. Rearranging the flowers at the base of the statue into something more aesthetically pleasing, the priestess murmured a brief prayer under her breath, stepping away only at the sound of a voice asking for help.
A young woman stood nearby, looking mildly uncomfortable as she bit her lip and adjusted the fabric of her clothing. The tone of her voice was no better, rough at first until she cleared her throat and smoothed some of the gravel from it. A gentle smile relaxing Euterpe’s face, she stepped closer to the woman, her arms spreading in an open and welcoming gesture as she strove to put the stranger at ease.
“Good morning,” she greeted the woman in a voice as warm as her smile, her cheeks dimpling and softening her face further. “My name is Euterpe, and I am a priestess here. If you have a problem, I’ll be happy to help you.”
Gesturing for her companion to follow her, she led the pretty stranger over to a bench secreted off to the side of the sanctuary, sitting down and indicating for the other to do the same. “What sort of problem are you seeking answers for?” she asked, hazel gaze turned curiously on the woman. “Speak as freely as you wish. The walls here don’t talk, and neither do I,” she added in a jest, eyes crinkling with mirth. “How can I help you?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It had been an uneventful week for the priestess Euterpe; with so many of the capital’s men off to war, there was not as much to work around. Some of her evenings were still spent in the same ecstatic calling that she had been reared for, but her days were mostly her own. Without much of a life beyond the temple, the flame-haired herbalist spent time on other tasks, instead, namely working on her potions and spending time amongst the supplicants in the temple proper.
While it did not hold the same thrill as the blissful hours she spent behind closed doors, it was still work she enjoyed. She believed she made a genuine difference in the lives of her fellow Colchians, offering advice and guidance where she could. While Colchians were known for their steady heads and lack of ostentatious expression, their hearts beat the same as any other. Even if they did not declare their love from the rooftops or openly engage in the lurid affairs of say, the Taengeans, matters of the heart affected everyone. And she found the ones who did not know how to express it were the often the ones that needed the most help.
A white peplos of finely woven silk fluttered in the breeze her movements created as Euterpe walked through the stony sanctuary of the goddess of love. It was a warmer than average day for the time of year, and she was grateful for the airy fabric as she made her way toward Aphrodite’s statue. A shock of red hair framed the woman’s face, pushing the curls away as she tilted her head back to gaze upon the visage of her beloved goddess. Rearranging the flowers at the base of the statue into something more aesthetically pleasing, the priestess murmured a brief prayer under her breath, stepping away only at the sound of a voice asking for help.
A young woman stood nearby, looking mildly uncomfortable as she bit her lip and adjusted the fabric of her clothing. The tone of her voice was no better, rough at first until she cleared her throat and smoothed some of the gravel from it. A gentle smile relaxing Euterpe’s face, she stepped closer to the woman, her arms spreading in an open and welcoming gesture as she strove to put the stranger at ease.
“Good morning,” she greeted the woman in a voice as warm as her smile, her cheeks dimpling and softening her face further. “My name is Euterpe, and I am a priestess here. If you have a problem, I’ll be happy to help you.”
Gesturing for her companion to follow her, she led the pretty stranger over to a bench secreted off to the side of the sanctuary, sitting down and indicating for the other to do the same. “What sort of problem are you seeking answers for?” she asked, hazel gaze turned curiously on the woman. “Speak as freely as you wish. The walls here don’t talk, and neither do I,” she added in a jest, eyes crinkling with mirth. “How can I help you?”
It had been an uneventful week for the priestess Euterpe; with so many of the capital’s men off to war, there was not as much to work around. Some of her evenings were still spent in the same ecstatic calling that she had been reared for, but her days were mostly her own. Without much of a life beyond the temple, the flame-haired herbalist spent time on other tasks, instead, namely working on her potions and spending time amongst the supplicants in the temple proper.
While it did not hold the same thrill as the blissful hours she spent behind closed doors, it was still work she enjoyed. She believed she made a genuine difference in the lives of her fellow Colchians, offering advice and guidance where she could. While Colchians were known for their steady heads and lack of ostentatious expression, their hearts beat the same as any other. Even if they did not declare their love from the rooftops or openly engage in the lurid affairs of say, the Taengeans, matters of the heart affected everyone. And she found the ones who did not know how to express it were the often the ones that needed the most help.
A white peplos of finely woven silk fluttered in the breeze her movements created as Euterpe walked through the stony sanctuary of the goddess of love. It was a warmer than average day for the time of year, and she was grateful for the airy fabric as she made her way toward Aphrodite’s statue. A shock of red hair framed the woman’s face, pushing the curls away as she tilted her head back to gaze upon the visage of her beloved goddess. Rearranging the flowers at the base of the statue into something more aesthetically pleasing, the priestess murmured a brief prayer under her breath, stepping away only at the sound of a voice asking for help.
A young woman stood nearby, looking mildly uncomfortable as she bit her lip and adjusted the fabric of her clothing. The tone of her voice was no better, rough at first until she cleared her throat and smoothed some of the gravel from it. A gentle smile relaxing Euterpe’s face, she stepped closer to the woman, her arms spreading in an open and welcoming gesture as she strove to put the stranger at ease.
“Good morning,” she greeted the woman in a voice as warm as her smile, her cheeks dimpling and softening her face further. “My name is Euterpe, and I am a priestess here. If you have a problem, I’ll be happy to help you.”
Gesturing for her companion to follow her, she led the pretty stranger over to a bench secreted off to the side of the sanctuary, sitting down and indicating for the other to do the same. “What sort of problem are you seeking answers for?” she asked, hazel gaze turned curiously on the woman. “Speak as freely as you wish. The walls here don’t talk, and neither do I,” she added in a jest, eyes crinkling with mirth. “How can I help you?”
Wow, Leto thought, her worries erased for a brief moment.
She is SO pretty...
Then again, to work for the goddess of beauty, she imagined most of them would have to be. How odd and out of place she must have looked - towering in height and lanky in frame, pale despite hours outdoors yet dark in most of her other features. More like something spawned from Hades than the beauty before her.
And, yet, somehow, Leto's intimidation passed just as quickly as the woman's words did, in fact, comfort her. As she settled onto the bench, a large exhale escaped her as the prickling of her worry began to grip at her chest again - the reason for her being there clawing their way back to the surface. In many ways, she had been dreading ever saying the words aloud. It was easy to feel that way with the Master Informer as her older brother. Secrets were not allowed.
Still, this one - or, well, these two things, she could handle on her own.
As the woman asked her question, Leto opened her mouth, hoping something logical and eloquent would come out, but with a confused tone, all she said at first was, "A problem...with love."
Immediately, she shook her head. Stupid. She sounded stupid.
For being smart in so many things, she was stupid with love.
Then, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes at the start, it flooded out of her.
"I am in love. And it is terrible. It does not make any sense and I cannot do anything about it because...they have gone to war."
There. She said it. Leto looked up to the priestess with round eyes, likened to a doe that would be just as quick to bound away into the woods, but the sweetness of the priestess' presence kept her from doing just that. It was clear from the short lull that Leto needed to explain further. Swallowing hard, she pressed on, a prickle forming in the corners of her eyes as she tried to keep her composure.
"One is a friend from childhood...the gods crossed our paths again here, just outside the temples, only a few weeks past, yet it was as if he had never been gone. We share the same interests, same devotion to the gods, and all manner of other things in life. There is a connection there, warm and comforting. We make each other smile and that is so....nice."
Even the thought of Maleos in that moment brought an awkward smile to her face through the agony, though it was pierced again just as quickly as her words continued..
"And...then there is..."
Leto wanted to say his name, but even the thought of it brought a lump to her throat that made it harder to speak for a moment. After another breath, she continued.
"We were never meant to fall in love with one another. We did not realize that is what happened until it was too late. I thought...I thought we were just friends. We would send joking gifts to one another, you know? To tease at each other. But...then we spoke...and there was this...this feeling..." As she spoke, her hands began to move frantically, gesturing up and down at her chest as if showing where this chaos of emotion had been churning inside of her.
"Neither of us said a word of it...or admitted to it out of pride. We have not even kissed so there could be doubt in that too! But...when he left, he sent me a note...and a gift...and I did not get to say anything to him in return...and he is not a soldier but he is going to war.."
As the tears began to stream down her cheeks, Leto very quickly took a corner of her chiton to dab frantically at her eyes and took a few breaths. Attempting to laugh it off, she looked to the priestess helplessly, with a forced smile, "I am sorry, I must seem like such a ridiculous fool...I just...I don't know what I'm doing."
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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Wow, Leto thought, her worries erased for a brief moment.
She is SO pretty...
Then again, to work for the goddess of beauty, she imagined most of them would have to be. How odd and out of place she must have looked - towering in height and lanky in frame, pale despite hours outdoors yet dark in most of her other features. More like something spawned from Hades than the beauty before her.
And, yet, somehow, Leto's intimidation passed just as quickly as the woman's words did, in fact, comfort her. As she settled onto the bench, a large exhale escaped her as the prickling of her worry began to grip at her chest again - the reason for her being there clawing their way back to the surface. In many ways, she had been dreading ever saying the words aloud. It was easy to feel that way with the Master Informer as her older brother. Secrets were not allowed.
Still, this one - or, well, these two things, she could handle on her own.
As the woman asked her question, Leto opened her mouth, hoping something logical and eloquent would come out, but with a confused tone, all she said at first was, "A problem...with love."
Immediately, she shook her head. Stupid. She sounded stupid.
For being smart in so many things, she was stupid with love.
Then, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes at the start, it flooded out of her.
"I am in love. And it is terrible. It does not make any sense and I cannot do anything about it because...they have gone to war."
There. She said it. Leto looked up to the priestess with round eyes, likened to a doe that would be just as quick to bound away into the woods, but the sweetness of the priestess' presence kept her from doing just that. It was clear from the short lull that Leto needed to explain further. Swallowing hard, she pressed on, a prickle forming in the corners of her eyes as she tried to keep her composure.
"One is a friend from childhood...the gods crossed our paths again here, just outside the temples, only a few weeks past, yet it was as if he had never been gone. We share the same interests, same devotion to the gods, and all manner of other things in life. There is a connection there, warm and comforting. We make each other smile and that is so....nice."
Even the thought of Maleos in that moment brought an awkward smile to her face through the agony, though it was pierced again just as quickly as her words continued..
"And...then there is..."
Leto wanted to say his name, but even the thought of it brought a lump to her throat that made it harder to speak for a moment. After another breath, she continued.
"We were never meant to fall in love with one another. We did not realize that is what happened until it was too late. I thought...I thought we were just friends. We would send joking gifts to one another, you know? To tease at each other. But...then we spoke...and there was this...this feeling..." As she spoke, her hands began to move frantically, gesturing up and down at her chest as if showing where this chaos of emotion had been churning inside of her.
"Neither of us said a word of it...or admitted to it out of pride. We have not even kissed so there could be doubt in that too! But...when he left, he sent me a note...and a gift...and I did not get to say anything to him in return...and he is not a soldier but he is going to war.."
As the tears began to stream down her cheeks, Leto very quickly took a corner of her chiton to dab frantically at her eyes and took a few breaths. Attempting to laugh it off, she looked to the priestess helplessly, with a forced smile, "I am sorry, I must seem like such a ridiculous fool...I just...I don't know what I'm doing."
Wow, Leto thought, her worries erased for a brief moment.
She is SO pretty...
Then again, to work for the goddess of beauty, she imagined most of them would have to be. How odd and out of place she must have looked - towering in height and lanky in frame, pale despite hours outdoors yet dark in most of her other features. More like something spawned from Hades than the beauty before her.
And, yet, somehow, Leto's intimidation passed just as quickly as the woman's words did, in fact, comfort her. As she settled onto the bench, a large exhale escaped her as the prickling of her worry began to grip at her chest again - the reason for her being there clawing their way back to the surface. In many ways, she had been dreading ever saying the words aloud. It was easy to feel that way with the Master Informer as her older brother. Secrets were not allowed.
Still, this one - or, well, these two things, she could handle on her own.
As the woman asked her question, Leto opened her mouth, hoping something logical and eloquent would come out, but with a confused tone, all she said at first was, "A problem...with love."
Immediately, she shook her head. Stupid. She sounded stupid.
For being smart in so many things, she was stupid with love.
Then, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes at the start, it flooded out of her.
"I am in love. And it is terrible. It does not make any sense and I cannot do anything about it because...they have gone to war."
There. She said it. Leto looked up to the priestess with round eyes, likened to a doe that would be just as quick to bound away into the woods, but the sweetness of the priestess' presence kept her from doing just that. It was clear from the short lull that Leto needed to explain further. Swallowing hard, she pressed on, a prickle forming in the corners of her eyes as she tried to keep her composure.
"One is a friend from childhood...the gods crossed our paths again here, just outside the temples, only a few weeks past, yet it was as if he had never been gone. We share the same interests, same devotion to the gods, and all manner of other things in life. There is a connection there, warm and comforting. We make each other smile and that is so....nice."
Even the thought of Maleos in that moment brought an awkward smile to her face through the agony, though it was pierced again just as quickly as her words continued..
"And...then there is..."
Leto wanted to say his name, but even the thought of it brought a lump to her throat that made it harder to speak for a moment. After another breath, she continued.
"We were never meant to fall in love with one another. We did not realize that is what happened until it was too late. I thought...I thought we were just friends. We would send joking gifts to one another, you know? To tease at each other. But...then we spoke...and there was this...this feeling..." As she spoke, her hands began to move frantically, gesturing up and down at her chest as if showing where this chaos of emotion had been churning inside of her.
"Neither of us said a word of it...or admitted to it out of pride. We have not even kissed so there could be doubt in that too! But...when he left, he sent me a note...and a gift...and I did not get to say anything to him in return...and he is not a soldier but he is going to war.."
As the tears began to stream down her cheeks, Leto very quickly took a corner of her chiton to dab frantically at her eyes and took a few breaths. Attempting to laugh it off, she looked to the priestess helplessly, with a forced smile, "I am sorry, I must seem like such a ridiculous fool...I just...I don't know what I'm doing."
It was a common thing, Euterpe found, for the patrons of the temple to come undone as soon as a smile was cast their way. She wasn’t sure if it was the nature of the problems so many came forward with or if it was just her presence, but the priestess was very used to the tangled jumble of words that the woman so hastily apologized for. It was part of her job to untangle that web, to help sort through its various strands. This woman did not need to apologize, and the courtesan was quick to wave it off. This was what she was here for.
Euterpe nodded, smiled, and tsked sympathetically where appropriate, her demeanor open, calm and welcoming. It was usually more effective to simply listen until the other could speak no more, to let them blather out whatever came to mind before she spoke. Sometimes they even worked their way through their own problem before she hardly said a word—it truly was a wonder what a simple, nonjudgmental ear could do. As self-conscious and anxious as her companion was, she was no oddity. It was a story like so many others that came before her.
“You are no fool,” was the priestess’s warm response, reaching over to gently pat the other’s knee. “Very few of us really know what we’re doing when it comes to love, I’ve learned through my years here, and no two hearts beat the same way. What works for some does not for others, and so it is a matter of learning and changing. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to get it right.”
Lest the woman become discouraged, however, Euterpe was quick to offer a smile of reassurance. “But therein lies at least half the fun of being in love, don’t you think? That thrill of discovery, the euphoria at stepping into something new?” A dreamy sigh accompanied her words, a similar expression resting on her features. “But as thrilling and wondrous as love can be, it certainly has the capacity to cause so much pain, a pain unique to itself. And the pain of knowing more than one love is one even more unique, particularly when no easy choice presents itself.”
Euterpe held out one hand in illustration as she spoke again, “On the one hand, there is a warm comfort in the familiar, in love rekindled from times past. There is less of a foundation to build and more of one to already stand on. But sometimes change comes with the passing of time, and the thrill is harder to find. A smoldering flame rather than a searing spark.” She held out her other hand as she went on, “On the other hand, there is the appeal of a love you never expected, one that sneaks up on you and takes you by surprise. That is a high some become addicted to and spend forever chasing, unsatisfied that the initial spark smolders or dies. Like everything else, love needs to be nurtured to grow, and that spark is so much easier to nurture when there is a friendship accompanying it.” For a moment, Euterpe seemed sidetracked by her own philosophical waxing, simply rephrasing the woman’s assertions with her own insight added. “Benefits and detriments to each. A hard choice to make, based on feeling alone.”
Folding her hands back together in her lap, she turned to face the other woman more fully. “Sometimes when the heart is too fickle, other factors must come into play. You have to ask yourself more practical questions, consider obstacles that may be in the way of what your heart wishes to attain.” Tilting her head, she asked, “Does your heart tug you more strongly in one direction or the other? And if it does not, are there other things you might consider to aid in your choice?” If there was a choice to be had when the war was done, of course; circumstance might make the choice for her, but this part, she did not voice aloud. No sense in compounding her woe. “Shared interests that may take up the lack when the spark begins to smolder? Your level of comfort with the other person? Even, gods, as much as I hate to say this, financial security?”
Reaching over, she squeezed her companion’s hand. “I know this must all feel very overwhelming right now, especially if you cannot even see either of them. If there any among the pantheon who understand and sympathize, it is most certainly the lady of love herself. These sorts of problems are never easy.”
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It was a common thing, Euterpe found, for the patrons of the temple to come undone as soon as a smile was cast their way. She wasn’t sure if it was the nature of the problems so many came forward with or if it was just her presence, but the priestess was very used to the tangled jumble of words that the woman so hastily apologized for. It was part of her job to untangle that web, to help sort through its various strands. This woman did not need to apologize, and the courtesan was quick to wave it off. This was what she was here for.
Euterpe nodded, smiled, and tsked sympathetically where appropriate, her demeanor open, calm and welcoming. It was usually more effective to simply listen until the other could speak no more, to let them blather out whatever came to mind before she spoke. Sometimes they even worked their way through their own problem before she hardly said a word—it truly was a wonder what a simple, nonjudgmental ear could do. As self-conscious and anxious as her companion was, she was no oddity. It was a story like so many others that came before her.
“You are no fool,” was the priestess’s warm response, reaching over to gently pat the other’s knee. “Very few of us really know what we’re doing when it comes to love, I’ve learned through my years here, and no two hearts beat the same way. What works for some does not for others, and so it is a matter of learning and changing. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to get it right.”
Lest the woman become discouraged, however, Euterpe was quick to offer a smile of reassurance. “But therein lies at least half the fun of being in love, don’t you think? That thrill of discovery, the euphoria at stepping into something new?” A dreamy sigh accompanied her words, a similar expression resting on her features. “But as thrilling and wondrous as love can be, it certainly has the capacity to cause so much pain, a pain unique to itself. And the pain of knowing more than one love is one even more unique, particularly when no easy choice presents itself.”
Euterpe held out one hand in illustration as she spoke again, “On the one hand, there is a warm comfort in the familiar, in love rekindled from times past. There is less of a foundation to build and more of one to already stand on. But sometimes change comes with the passing of time, and the thrill is harder to find. A smoldering flame rather than a searing spark.” She held out her other hand as she went on, “On the other hand, there is the appeal of a love you never expected, one that sneaks up on you and takes you by surprise. That is a high some become addicted to and spend forever chasing, unsatisfied that the initial spark smolders or dies. Like everything else, love needs to be nurtured to grow, and that spark is so much easier to nurture when there is a friendship accompanying it.” For a moment, Euterpe seemed sidetracked by her own philosophical waxing, simply rephrasing the woman’s assertions with her own insight added. “Benefits and detriments to each. A hard choice to make, based on feeling alone.”
Folding her hands back together in her lap, she turned to face the other woman more fully. “Sometimes when the heart is too fickle, other factors must come into play. You have to ask yourself more practical questions, consider obstacles that may be in the way of what your heart wishes to attain.” Tilting her head, she asked, “Does your heart tug you more strongly in one direction or the other? And if it does not, are there other things you might consider to aid in your choice?” If there was a choice to be had when the war was done, of course; circumstance might make the choice for her, but this part, she did not voice aloud. No sense in compounding her woe. “Shared interests that may take up the lack when the spark begins to smolder? Your level of comfort with the other person? Even, gods, as much as I hate to say this, financial security?”
Reaching over, she squeezed her companion’s hand. “I know this must all feel very overwhelming right now, especially if you cannot even see either of them. If there any among the pantheon who understand and sympathize, it is most certainly the lady of love herself. These sorts of problems are never easy.”
It was a common thing, Euterpe found, for the patrons of the temple to come undone as soon as a smile was cast their way. She wasn’t sure if it was the nature of the problems so many came forward with or if it was just her presence, but the priestess was very used to the tangled jumble of words that the woman so hastily apologized for. It was part of her job to untangle that web, to help sort through its various strands. This woman did not need to apologize, and the courtesan was quick to wave it off. This was what she was here for.
Euterpe nodded, smiled, and tsked sympathetically where appropriate, her demeanor open, calm and welcoming. It was usually more effective to simply listen until the other could speak no more, to let them blather out whatever came to mind before she spoke. Sometimes they even worked their way through their own problem before she hardly said a word—it truly was a wonder what a simple, nonjudgmental ear could do. As self-conscious and anxious as her companion was, she was no oddity. It was a story like so many others that came before her.
“You are no fool,” was the priestess’s warm response, reaching over to gently pat the other’s knee. “Very few of us really know what we’re doing when it comes to love, I’ve learned through my years here, and no two hearts beat the same way. What works for some does not for others, and so it is a matter of learning and changing. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to get it right.”
Lest the woman become discouraged, however, Euterpe was quick to offer a smile of reassurance. “But therein lies at least half the fun of being in love, don’t you think? That thrill of discovery, the euphoria at stepping into something new?” A dreamy sigh accompanied her words, a similar expression resting on her features. “But as thrilling and wondrous as love can be, it certainly has the capacity to cause so much pain, a pain unique to itself. And the pain of knowing more than one love is one even more unique, particularly when no easy choice presents itself.”
Euterpe held out one hand in illustration as she spoke again, “On the one hand, there is a warm comfort in the familiar, in love rekindled from times past. There is less of a foundation to build and more of one to already stand on. But sometimes change comes with the passing of time, and the thrill is harder to find. A smoldering flame rather than a searing spark.” She held out her other hand as she went on, “On the other hand, there is the appeal of a love you never expected, one that sneaks up on you and takes you by surprise. That is a high some become addicted to and spend forever chasing, unsatisfied that the initial spark smolders or dies. Like everything else, love needs to be nurtured to grow, and that spark is so much easier to nurture when there is a friendship accompanying it.” For a moment, Euterpe seemed sidetracked by her own philosophical waxing, simply rephrasing the woman’s assertions with her own insight added. “Benefits and detriments to each. A hard choice to make, based on feeling alone.”
Folding her hands back together in her lap, she turned to face the other woman more fully. “Sometimes when the heart is too fickle, other factors must come into play. You have to ask yourself more practical questions, consider obstacles that may be in the way of what your heart wishes to attain.” Tilting her head, she asked, “Does your heart tug you more strongly in one direction or the other? And if it does not, are there other things you might consider to aid in your choice?” If there was a choice to be had when the war was done, of course; circumstance might make the choice for her, but this part, she did not voice aloud. No sense in compounding her woe. “Shared interests that may take up the lack when the spark begins to smolder? Your level of comfort with the other person? Even, gods, as much as I hate to say this, financial security?”
Reaching over, she squeezed her companion’s hand. “I know this must all feel very overwhelming right now, especially if you cannot even see either of them. If there any among the pantheon who understand and sympathize, it is most certainly the lady of love herself. These sorts of problems are never easy.”