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Achilleas was responsive to her instruction, his touch carefully mimicking what she had wordlessly shown him. The speeding of her breath, the soft kisses along his neck and shoulder were his reward, yearning into his hand as he slowed his movement and slid along her silken folds with a more deft touch than moments ago. That he adjusted so easily without taking offense was promising, giving the new queen hope that she and her king would learn to grow together, after all. If they could find compatibility here, certainly that wasn’t the only place it could be sought…
When Theo took him within her at last, there were a few still moments where neither moved, his head buried in her shoulder and her fingers tangled in the springiness of his hair. Bodies nestled together, her breath slowed to the pace of her heart, fingertips exploring and stroking down his shoulder and along his back, stopping to caress over his hip. A body so unfamiliar to her, one she had not yet memorized with the depth of the lover that came before. In the time that remained to them, would she be able to know it further? Or would they become strangers again after he left? What if he didn’t return? What if…
Urgency in his movements, her husband started to move within her, a possessive grasp at hip and shoulder matching her rhythm to his. Banishing the uncertainty that plagued her at every turn, she moved with him, rolling her hips as he thrust up inside her. Soft gasps and sighs of pleasure, intermingled with the quiet splashing of the water, were the only sounds in the room, centering her back in the moment and allowing her thoughts to scatter through the enveloping steam.
Though she was not consciously aware of his reluctance to meet her gaze, Theodora was glad of it. There was a certain… intimacy to be found in the depths of one’s eyes, a truth of the soul to be discovered if one knew where to look. With the secrets she kept and the truths she tried to hide, in a moment like this, one so raw and open, it was easier to keep her eyes closed, to pretend there was nothing and no one else but the man beneath her and the water that buffeted them both.
Turning to where his head lay against her neck, her hand raised to his jaw, tilting his face toward hers to capture his mouth in another kiss. Tongue darting past his lips to tangle with his own, her other hand covered his where it clutched at her hip, matching the quick insistence of his own movements with a rumbled groan of encouragement.
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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Achilleas was responsive to her instruction, his touch carefully mimicking what she had wordlessly shown him. The speeding of her breath, the soft kisses along his neck and shoulder were his reward, yearning into his hand as he slowed his movement and slid along her silken folds with a more deft touch than moments ago. That he adjusted so easily without taking offense was promising, giving the new queen hope that she and her king would learn to grow together, after all. If they could find compatibility here, certainly that wasn’t the only place it could be sought…
When Theo took him within her at last, there were a few still moments where neither moved, his head buried in her shoulder and her fingers tangled in the springiness of his hair. Bodies nestled together, her breath slowed to the pace of her heart, fingertips exploring and stroking down his shoulder and along his back, stopping to caress over his hip. A body so unfamiliar to her, one she had not yet memorized with the depth of the lover that came before. In the time that remained to them, would she be able to know it further? Or would they become strangers again after he left? What if he didn’t return? What if…
Urgency in his movements, her husband started to move within her, a possessive grasp at hip and shoulder matching her rhythm to his. Banishing the uncertainty that plagued her at every turn, she moved with him, rolling her hips as he thrust up inside her. Soft gasps and sighs of pleasure, intermingled with the quiet splashing of the water, were the only sounds in the room, centering her back in the moment and allowing her thoughts to scatter through the enveloping steam.
Though she was not consciously aware of his reluctance to meet her gaze, Theodora was glad of it. There was a certain… intimacy to be found in the depths of one’s eyes, a truth of the soul to be discovered if one knew where to look. With the secrets she kept and the truths she tried to hide, in a moment like this, one so raw and open, it was easier to keep her eyes closed, to pretend there was nothing and no one else but the man beneath her and the water that buffeted them both.
Turning to where his head lay against her neck, her hand raised to his jaw, tilting his face toward hers to capture his mouth in another kiss. Tongue darting past his lips to tangle with his own, her other hand covered his where it clutched at her hip, matching the quick insistence of his own movements with a rumbled groan of encouragement.
Achilleas was responsive to her instruction, his touch carefully mimicking what she had wordlessly shown him. The speeding of her breath, the soft kisses along his neck and shoulder were his reward, yearning into his hand as he slowed his movement and slid along her silken folds with a more deft touch than moments ago. That he adjusted so easily without taking offense was promising, giving the new queen hope that she and her king would learn to grow together, after all. If they could find compatibility here, certainly that wasn’t the only place it could be sought…
When Theo took him within her at last, there were a few still moments where neither moved, his head buried in her shoulder and her fingers tangled in the springiness of his hair. Bodies nestled together, her breath slowed to the pace of her heart, fingertips exploring and stroking down his shoulder and along his back, stopping to caress over his hip. A body so unfamiliar to her, one she had not yet memorized with the depth of the lover that came before. In the time that remained to them, would she be able to know it further? Or would they become strangers again after he left? What if he didn’t return? What if…
Urgency in his movements, her husband started to move within her, a possessive grasp at hip and shoulder matching her rhythm to his. Banishing the uncertainty that plagued her at every turn, she moved with him, rolling her hips as he thrust up inside her. Soft gasps and sighs of pleasure, intermingled with the quiet splashing of the water, were the only sounds in the room, centering her back in the moment and allowing her thoughts to scatter through the enveloping steam.
Though she was not consciously aware of his reluctance to meet her gaze, Theodora was glad of it. There was a certain… intimacy to be found in the depths of one’s eyes, a truth of the soul to be discovered if one knew where to look. With the secrets she kept and the truths she tried to hide, in a moment like this, one so raw and open, it was easier to keep her eyes closed, to pretend there was nothing and no one else but the man beneath her and the water that buffeted them both.
Turning to where his head lay against her neck, her hand raised to his jaw, tilting his face toward hers to capture his mouth in another kiss. Tongue darting past his lips to tangle with his own, her other hand covered his where it clutched at her hip, matching the quick insistence of his own movements with a rumbled groan of encouragement.
She was perfect. The feel of her around him, the little sounds she made, the way she moved. All of it. It was everything he wanted and needed and Achilleas let himself soak it all up. His fingers pressed into her skin, his mouth marked kissed on her shoulder, across her collarbone and when she drew his face in towards hers, on her lips. Their breath mingled and her tongue slid against his and he swallowed her moans and felt giddy on it. He wanted~
Each little roll of her hips created a sweet friction, and it was enough, it was building to something unrelenting and he let it carry them along for a while, his hand shifting out from underneath hers and back to her centre, trying to recreate the rhythm she’d showed him because he wanted to hear more of those gasps and sighs. Learning Theodora was a task he had set himself, and this aspect of her was a subject that proved engrossing enough, gave him focus away from his own need, that winding tension that drew tighter and tighter and threatened to snap. Breaths heavy and hot, their skin were damp from the steam, from the salt sweat that came with such closeness and he tried to coax from her the pleasure he sought for himself.
She felt good, it was good and everything should have been fine. Only the release that Achilleas chased, the flashpoint, the moment where everything became nothing...
Did not come.
Breaking away from the open-mouthed kisses that had left Theodora’s lips so kiss bruised and luscious, he pressed his face against her neck once more, bracketed her hips in his hands and tried to concentrate on the promise of his own pleasure, shutting out everything else because he needed~
Hands coiled in hair and drew her body back into a sweet arch of surrender so he could kiss at her breasts and drive deeper, and it was almost enough but not and Achilleas groaned, a sound that could have been passion but was frustration because why wasn’t he~
Gods, fuck now he was thinking about it and that only made it worse, and all he wanted was to finish and then sleep. He set his teeth and tried to urge her into a rhythm that would get him there, and he was definitely sweating now, her skin gleamed with it too, but there was just...nothing other than a bit of discomfort. Perhaps this was his punishment for...something? For Briseis? Either way, Achilleas couldn't let it carry on, and he eventually tightened his hold on her hips to still her, heaved a sigh and let his head fall forward to rest against her breastbone. His words were muffled then, but still unfortunately able to be made out. “I don’t think it’s going to happen”
Frustrated, embarrassed and still hard and unfilled, if Achilleas could have sunk under the water and not resurfaced then he thought he might have done. Instead, he made himself raise his head to meet her gaze and swallowed back his mortification as he swept a lock of hair from her face “....sorry I..tired I guess”
Except now he wasn’t tired and he wanted to hit something, but there was awkward disentanglement to be done and somehow he had to make this right, though he didn’t know how.
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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She was perfect. The feel of her around him, the little sounds she made, the way she moved. All of it. It was everything he wanted and needed and Achilleas let himself soak it all up. His fingers pressed into her skin, his mouth marked kissed on her shoulder, across her collarbone and when she drew his face in towards hers, on her lips. Their breath mingled and her tongue slid against his and he swallowed her moans and felt giddy on it. He wanted~
Each little roll of her hips created a sweet friction, and it was enough, it was building to something unrelenting and he let it carry them along for a while, his hand shifting out from underneath hers and back to her centre, trying to recreate the rhythm she’d showed him because he wanted to hear more of those gasps and sighs. Learning Theodora was a task he had set himself, and this aspect of her was a subject that proved engrossing enough, gave him focus away from his own need, that winding tension that drew tighter and tighter and threatened to snap. Breaths heavy and hot, their skin were damp from the steam, from the salt sweat that came with such closeness and he tried to coax from her the pleasure he sought for himself.
She felt good, it was good and everything should have been fine. Only the release that Achilleas chased, the flashpoint, the moment where everything became nothing...
Did not come.
Breaking away from the open-mouthed kisses that had left Theodora’s lips so kiss bruised and luscious, he pressed his face against her neck once more, bracketed her hips in his hands and tried to concentrate on the promise of his own pleasure, shutting out everything else because he needed~
Hands coiled in hair and drew her body back into a sweet arch of surrender so he could kiss at her breasts and drive deeper, and it was almost enough but not and Achilleas groaned, a sound that could have been passion but was frustration because why wasn’t he~
Gods, fuck now he was thinking about it and that only made it worse, and all he wanted was to finish and then sleep. He set his teeth and tried to urge her into a rhythm that would get him there, and he was definitely sweating now, her skin gleamed with it too, but there was just...nothing other than a bit of discomfort. Perhaps this was his punishment for...something? For Briseis? Either way, Achilleas couldn't let it carry on, and he eventually tightened his hold on her hips to still her, heaved a sigh and let his head fall forward to rest against her breastbone. His words were muffled then, but still unfortunately able to be made out. “I don’t think it’s going to happen”
Frustrated, embarrassed and still hard and unfilled, if Achilleas could have sunk under the water and not resurfaced then he thought he might have done. Instead, he made himself raise his head to meet her gaze and swallowed back his mortification as he swept a lock of hair from her face “....sorry I..tired I guess”
Except now he wasn’t tired and he wanted to hit something, but there was awkward disentanglement to be done and somehow he had to make this right, though he didn’t know how.
She was perfect. The feel of her around him, the little sounds she made, the way she moved. All of it. It was everything he wanted and needed and Achilleas let himself soak it all up. His fingers pressed into her skin, his mouth marked kissed on her shoulder, across her collarbone and when she drew his face in towards hers, on her lips. Their breath mingled and her tongue slid against his and he swallowed her moans and felt giddy on it. He wanted~
Each little roll of her hips created a sweet friction, and it was enough, it was building to something unrelenting and he let it carry them along for a while, his hand shifting out from underneath hers and back to her centre, trying to recreate the rhythm she’d showed him because he wanted to hear more of those gasps and sighs. Learning Theodora was a task he had set himself, and this aspect of her was a subject that proved engrossing enough, gave him focus away from his own need, that winding tension that drew tighter and tighter and threatened to snap. Breaths heavy and hot, their skin were damp from the steam, from the salt sweat that came with such closeness and he tried to coax from her the pleasure he sought for himself.
She felt good, it was good and everything should have been fine. Only the release that Achilleas chased, the flashpoint, the moment where everything became nothing...
Did not come.
Breaking away from the open-mouthed kisses that had left Theodora’s lips so kiss bruised and luscious, he pressed his face against her neck once more, bracketed her hips in his hands and tried to concentrate on the promise of his own pleasure, shutting out everything else because he needed~
Hands coiled in hair and drew her body back into a sweet arch of surrender so he could kiss at her breasts and drive deeper, and it was almost enough but not and Achilleas groaned, a sound that could have been passion but was frustration because why wasn’t he~
Gods, fuck now he was thinking about it and that only made it worse, and all he wanted was to finish and then sleep. He set his teeth and tried to urge her into a rhythm that would get him there, and he was definitely sweating now, her skin gleamed with it too, but there was just...nothing other than a bit of discomfort. Perhaps this was his punishment for...something? For Briseis? Either way, Achilleas couldn't let it carry on, and he eventually tightened his hold on her hips to still her, heaved a sigh and let his head fall forward to rest against her breastbone. His words were muffled then, but still unfortunately able to be made out. “I don’t think it’s going to happen”
Frustrated, embarrassed and still hard and unfilled, if Achilleas could have sunk under the water and not resurfaced then he thought he might have done. Instead, he made himself raise his head to meet her gaze and swallowed back his mortification as he swept a lock of hair from her face “....sorry I..tired I guess”
Except now he wasn’t tired and he wanted to hit something, but there was awkward disentanglement to be done and somehow he had to make this right, though he didn’t know how.
Everything seemed fine at first—things were progressing as they should, the hot press of sweat-dampened skin creating a sweet resistance as Achilleas thrust up inside her again and again. His fingers slid between them once more, caressing over soft velvet as she moaned in eager approval. She pressed into his touch, encouraged his rhythm by matching it with her own, pleasure blossoming in her core and slowly building toward a release she hadn’t truly realized she needed.
But something… changed. His touch was gone from between her legs, shifting his hold on her as he moved with a more heated urgency. Her fingers tangled in his hair again as his face pressed to her neck even as she felt a twinge of disappointment at her own abandoned build-up. But this wasn’t about her, she reminded herself. She’d brought him here to distract him, to give him something more to hold onto than the inevitable grief and anger that came with recent events. If she was able to give him that, even for a little while, she had accomplished what she set out to do.
Shifting again, his hands wound in her hair as he bent her back to brush his mouth along her chest. Skin prickling where his lips traced their path, she shivered. Her head tilted back with a sigh, eyes falling closed again as his pace renewed. Almost, it seemed he was there until…
The groan she heard was no longer one of pleasure, and with a sinking feeling, she thought she understood what was happening. He vocalized it only a moment after, Theodora straightening in his grasp to look at his abashed expression. He brushed a lock of hair from her face with a muttered apology, Theo reaching up to cover his hand with her own.
“Hey,” she murmured, seeking his gaze with an earnest one of her own. Even if this wasn’t exactly how she’d wanted their little sojourn to go, she could hardly hold a… less than satisfactory performance against him. Gods knew the type of stress he was under, and apparently her seemingly brilliant plan had only served to make it worse. Great.
“It’s okay,” she was quick to reassure him, that look on his face twisting her stomach as she buried her own disappointment. She wasn’t sure if he believed her, frowning as she took his face between her hands. “Really, Achilleas, I mean it. It’s not a big deal, I swear.” Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, she stroked lightly along his cheek before pulling back and dropping her hands.
Carefully, she extricated herself from his grasp, lifting herself from his lap and avoiding his eyes as she settled next to him again. Resting her head on his shoulder, she took his hand in her own with a light squeeze, hoping to convey some comfort with the touch. “Maybe this just wasn’t the best idea after such a long day,” she murmured, squeezing his fingers again. “We can just go to bed, if you want.”
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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Everything seemed fine at first—things were progressing as they should, the hot press of sweat-dampened skin creating a sweet resistance as Achilleas thrust up inside her again and again. His fingers slid between them once more, caressing over soft velvet as she moaned in eager approval. She pressed into his touch, encouraged his rhythm by matching it with her own, pleasure blossoming in her core and slowly building toward a release she hadn’t truly realized she needed.
But something… changed. His touch was gone from between her legs, shifting his hold on her as he moved with a more heated urgency. Her fingers tangled in his hair again as his face pressed to her neck even as she felt a twinge of disappointment at her own abandoned build-up. But this wasn’t about her, she reminded herself. She’d brought him here to distract him, to give him something more to hold onto than the inevitable grief and anger that came with recent events. If she was able to give him that, even for a little while, she had accomplished what she set out to do.
Shifting again, his hands wound in her hair as he bent her back to brush his mouth along her chest. Skin prickling where his lips traced their path, she shivered. Her head tilted back with a sigh, eyes falling closed again as his pace renewed. Almost, it seemed he was there until…
The groan she heard was no longer one of pleasure, and with a sinking feeling, she thought she understood what was happening. He vocalized it only a moment after, Theodora straightening in his grasp to look at his abashed expression. He brushed a lock of hair from her face with a muttered apology, Theo reaching up to cover his hand with her own.
“Hey,” she murmured, seeking his gaze with an earnest one of her own. Even if this wasn’t exactly how she’d wanted their little sojourn to go, she could hardly hold a… less than satisfactory performance against him. Gods knew the type of stress he was under, and apparently her seemingly brilliant plan had only served to make it worse. Great.
“It’s okay,” she was quick to reassure him, that look on his face twisting her stomach as she buried her own disappointment. She wasn’t sure if he believed her, frowning as she took his face between her hands. “Really, Achilleas, I mean it. It’s not a big deal, I swear.” Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, she stroked lightly along his cheek before pulling back and dropping her hands.
Carefully, she extricated herself from his grasp, lifting herself from his lap and avoiding his eyes as she settled next to him again. Resting her head on his shoulder, she took his hand in her own with a light squeeze, hoping to convey some comfort with the touch. “Maybe this just wasn’t the best idea after such a long day,” she murmured, squeezing his fingers again. “We can just go to bed, if you want.”
Everything seemed fine at first—things were progressing as they should, the hot press of sweat-dampened skin creating a sweet resistance as Achilleas thrust up inside her again and again. His fingers slid between them once more, caressing over soft velvet as she moaned in eager approval. She pressed into his touch, encouraged his rhythm by matching it with her own, pleasure blossoming in her core and slowly building toward a release she hadn’t truly realized she needed.
But something… changed. His touch was gone from between her legs, shifting his hold on her as he moved with a more heated urgency. Her fingers tangled in his hair again as his face pressed to her neck even as she felt a twinge of disappointment at her own abandoned build-up. But this wasn’t about her, she reminded herself. She’d brought him here to distract him, to give him something more to hold onto than the inevitable grief and anger that came with recent events. If she was able to give him that, even for a little while, she had accomplished what she set out to do.
Shifting again, his hands wound in her hair as he bent her back to brush his mouth along her chest. Skin prickling where his lips traced their path, she shivered. Her head tilted back with a sigh, eyes falling closed again as his pace renewed. Almost, it seemed he was there until…
The groan she heard was no longer one of pleasure, and with a sinking feeling, she thought she understood what was happening. He vocalized it only a moment after, Theodora straightening in his grasp to look at his abashed expression. He brushed a lock of hair from her face with a muttered apology, Theo reaching up to cover his hand with her own.
“Hey,” she murmured, seeking his gaze with an earnest one of her own. Even if this wasn’t exactly how she’d wanted their little sojourn to go, she could hardly hold a… less than satisfactory performance against him. Gods knew the type of stress he was under, and apparently her seemingly brilliant plan had only served to make it worse. Great.
“It’s okay,” she was quick to reassure him, that look on his face twisting her stomach as she buried her own disappointment. She wasn’t sure if he believed her, frowning as she took his face between her hands. “Really, Achilleas, I mean it. It’s not a big deal, I swear.” Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, she stroked lightly along his cheek before pulling back and dropping her hands.
Carefully, she extricated herself from his grasp, lifting herself from his lap and avoiding his eyes as she settled next to him again. Resting her head on his shoulder, she took his hand in her own with a light squeeze, hoping to convey some comfort with the touch. “Maybe this just wasn’t the best idea after such a long day,” she murmured, squeezing his fingers again. “We can just go to bed, if you want.”
He had never wanted comfort less in his entire life. Theodora’s gentle touches and soft reassurances set his teeth on edge and made his skin itch, despite his knowing that she meant well and was only trying to spare his feelings.
Briefly, met her gaze, his eyes holding hers for only a second before he looked away because he didn’t want to hear it, and there was some petulant urge to refuse to move when her hands cupped his face as she tried to drag his attention back to her.
It wasn’t okay.
He was walking like a spectre through his days, couldn’t trust himself to handle a simple conversation about his father without reacting like a child, he couldn’t sleep properly and now this? Nothing about it was okay, but what was there to do other than gritting his teeth and accepting her efforts to soothe him.
‘Really, Achilleas, I mean it. It’s not a big deal, I swear’ The platitudes washed over him and he made his face perfectly blank and patted one of the hands that rested on his face because maybe then she would stop. He couldn’t bear it.
It worked, after a fashion, and when Theodora climbed off him, he scooped up a handful of water and splashed it over his face, kneading at his forehead with his fingers as if he could press away the feeling of his skin being too tight and the embarrassed agitation that had taken the place of anything else.
Why even the simplest of things could not be simple he didn’t know. There’d been once before when wine had made finding completion a fruitless effort but he’d had a skinful and it had been with some upscale whore his cousin had foisted on him. Not stone-cold sober and with the woman so newly his wife. A woman who was enough to stir any man’s blood.
Annoyingly, his cock didn’t seem to have given up on the notion, and it was just there as a testament to how absolutely useless he was. He shot it a belligerent look before tensing as Theodora’s curled into his shoulder. Part of him had hoped she would just slip away quietly and leave him to sulk in peace, but it didn’t seem the Gods were going to favour him with that small mercy either. But despite himself, his fingers wrapped around hers and held on.
“No,” he said, head still lowered, forehead bracketed by one hand so his face was partly hidden. He didn’t look at as he spoke on “It was a good idea..a nice thought. I’m sorry I spoiled it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me”
It was not that he did not appreciate the obvious. Even before the events of the wedding things had hardly been settled. And he knew that she would be thinking of everything that had happened then and since, and that was what gentled her voice just like all of those people who offered their condolences, but he wanted to point out that it shouldn’t matter, he shouldn’t break because of a loss when there was so much else that he needed to keep going for. He was failing and it stung.
Achilleas swallowed and took a breath before lifting his head to send glance at Theodora, a half- attempt at a smile as he offered some clumsy reassurance “I don’t not want you. Just..”
He didn’t know what to follow that with and so lapsed into silence again, wondering what was the courteous thing to do in such a situation. The baths had somewhat lost their appeal and yet he couldn’t think of anywhere to be that would any less excruciating at that particular moment.
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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He had never wanted comfort less in his entire life. Theodora’s gentle touches and soft reassurances set his teeth on edge and made his skin itch, despite his knowing that she meant well and was only trying to spare his feelings.
Briefly, met her gaze, his eyes holding hers for only a second before he looked away because he didn’t want to hear it, and there was some petulant urge to refuse to move when her hands cupped his face as she tried to drag his attention back to her.
It wasn’t okay.
He was walking like a spectre through his days, couldn’t trust himself to handle a simple conversation about his father without reacting like a child, he couldn’t sleep properly and now this? Nothing about it was okay, but what was there to do other than gritting his teeth and accepting her efforts to soothe him.
‘Really, Achilleas, I mean it. It’s not a big deal, I swear’ The platitudes washed over him and he made his face perfectly blank and patted one of the hands that rested on his face because maybe then she would stop. He couldn’t bear it.
It worked, after a fashion, and when Theodora climbed off him, he scooped up a handful of water and splashed it over his face, kneading at his forehead with his fingers as if he could press away the feeling of his skin being too tight and the embarrassed agitation that had taken the place of anything else.
Why even the simplest of things could not be simple he didn’t know. There’d been once before when wine had made finding completion a fruitless effort but he’d had a skinful and it had been with some upscale whore his cousin had foisted on him. Not stone-cold sober and with the woman so newly his wife. A woman who was enough to stir any man’s blood.
Annoyingly, his cock didn’t seem to have given up on the notion, and it was just there as a testament to how absolutely useless he was. He shot it a belligerent look before tensing as Theodora’s curled into his shoulder. Part of him had hoped she would just slip away quietly and leave him to sulk in peace, but it didn’t seem the Gods were going to favour him with that small mercy either. But despite himself, his fingers wrapped around hers and held on.
“No,” he said, head still lowered, forehead bracketed by one hand so his face was partly hidden. He didn’t look at as he spoke on “It was a good idea..a nice thought. I’m sorry I spoiled it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me”
It was not that he did not appreciate the obvious. Even before the events of the wedding things had hardly been settled. And he knew that she would be thinking of everything that had happened then and since, and that was what gentled her voice just like all of those people who offered their condolences, but he wanted to point out that it shouldn’t matter, he shouldn’t break because of a loss when there was so much else that he needed to keep going for. He was failing and it stung.
Achilleas swallowed and took a breath before lifting his head to send glance at Theodora, a half- attempt at a smile as he offered some clumsy reassurance “I don’t not want you. Just..”
He didn’t know what to follow that with and so lapsed into silence again, wondering what was the courteous thing to do in such a situation. The baths had somewhat lost their appeal and yet he couldn’t think of anywhere to be that would any less excruciating at that particular moment.
He had never wanted comfort less in his entire life. Theodora’s gentle touches and soft reassurances set his teeth on edge and made his skin itch, despite his knowing that she meant well and was only trying to spare his feelings.
Briefly, met her gaze, his eyes holding hers for only a second before he looked away because he didn’t want to hear it, and there was some petulant urge to refuse to move when her hands cupped his face as she tried to drag his attention back to her.
It wasn’t okay.
He was walking like a spectre through his days, couldn’t trust himself to handle a simple conversation about his father without reacting like a child, he couldn’t sleep properly and now this? Nothing about it was okay, but what was there to do other than gritting his teeth and accepting her efforts to soothe him.
‘Really, Achilleas, I mean it. It’s not a big deal, I swear’ The platitudes washed over him and he made his face perfectly blank and patted one of the hands that rested on his face because maybe then she would stop. He couldn’t bear it.
It worked, after a fashion, and when Theodora climbed off him, he scooped up a handful of water and splashed it over his face, kneading at his forehead with his fingers as if he could press away the feeling of his skin being too tight and the embarrassed agitation that had taken the place of anything else.
Why even the simplest of things could not be simple he didn’t know. There’d been once before when wine had made finding completion a fruitless effort but he’d had a skinful and it had been with some upscale whore his cousin had foisted on him. Not stone-cold sober and with the woman so newly his wife. A woman who was enough to stir any man’s blood.
Annoyingly, his cock didn’t seem to have given up on the notion, and it was just there as a testament to how absolutely useless he was. He shot it a belligerent look before tensing as Theodora’s curled into his shoulder. Part of him had hoped she would just slip away quietly and leave him to sulk in peace, but it didn’t seem the Gods were going to favour him with that small mercy either. But despite himself, his fingers wrapped around hers and held on.
“No,” he said, head still lowered, forehead bracketed by one hand so his face was partly hidden. He didn’t look at as he spoke on “It was a good idea..a nice thought. I’m sorry I spoiled it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me”
It was not that he did not appreciate the obvious. Even before the events of the wedding things had hardly been settled. And he knew that she would be thinking of everything that had happened then and since, and that was what gentled her voice just like all of those people who offered their condolences, but he wanted to point out that it shouldn’t matter, he shouldn’t break because of a loss when there was so much else that he needed to keep going for. He was failing and it stung.
Achilleas swallowed and took a breath before lifting his head to send glance at Theodora, a half- attempt at a smile as he offered some clumsy reassurance “I don’t not want you. Just..”
He didn’t know what to follow that with and so lapsed into silence again, wondering what was the courteous thing to do in such a situation. The baths had somewhat lost their appeal and yet he couldn’t think of anywhere to be that would any less excruciating at that particular moment.
Achilleas was a stoic man—she knew that much about him before they ever married. His reaction did not surprise her, even if it saddened her. She wished she knew how to help, how to soothe the pain that surely weighed him down. How to be a source of comfort and strength, rather than a burden or a nuisance. But she did not know him, not really. Had it been Emilios, she would have known what to say and how to say it, but Achilleas was not his brother. He did not react as she expected him to, and so she wasn’t sure how to act in the first place. Just as he sought to learn her, she knew she must do the same, and the only way she could learn was to try. They were bound together for life, and she did not want to spend that life a stranger to her husband. She just hoped her trying would bear some fruit.
I’m sorry I spoiled it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
“Achilleas.” His name was quietly spoken, turning to look at him, even if he wouldn’t look at her directly. She could imagine the embarrassment he must feel, even as she tried to brush it off; though things hadn’t gone how she wanted, she would have to be a heartless monster not to understand why. She wished she could figure out a way to get through to him that he didn’t need to be so hard on himself. Especially not over something like this.
He finally met her gaze for a moment, a half-hearted smile weakly offered as he attempted an explanation before trailing off and falling silent again. Threading their fingers together, she sighed softly. Encouraged that he hadn’t outright pushed her away or asked her to leave, she was determined this night would not end on too sour a note.
“Achilleas,” she said again, shaking her head. “There isn’t anything wrong with you. You are human, and these past few weeks have been more than any one man should have to bear on his own.” Dropping her gaze to their conjoined hands, she doodled idly along the back of his much larger one before quietly continuing, “No one is perfect, no matter what’s expected of them. And I know… I know there’s a lot expected of you right now.” A newly crowned king getting set for war so soon after the loss of his father, and a new husband on top of it; it was not an enviable position he held. “I know you must be grieving right now, even if you won’t show it, and I just…”
She trailed off for a moment, unsure how he would respond. Would he just shrug her off and ignore her? Would anything she said just fall on deaf ears, or was there a chance he would listen? Or would he think her too forward? Did he even trust her? Gods, she wished she knew the right things to say.
“I just want you to know you can talk about it,” she said all in a rush. “I know that we haven’t… I know we don’t know each other very well yet. That there hasn’t been much time for us to know each other.” She hesitated for a second before she went on, “But I’m your wife now. And I want to be here for you, in the ways that I can. One of those ways is – or should be – helping you to carry the things that are too heavy to carry alone.”
Turning her head, she pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder before resting against it again, dropping her gaze back down to the rippling water. “All of this is too heavy to carry alone, Achilleas. I can help carry it. But only if you let me.”
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Achilleas was a stoic man—she knew that much about him before they ever married. His reaction did not surprise her, even if it saddened her. She wished she knew how to help, how to soothe the pain that surely weighed him down. How to be a source of comfort and strength, rather than a burden or a nuisance. But she did not know him, not really. Had it been Emilios, she would have known what to say and how to say it, but Achilleas was not his brother. He did not react as she expected him to, and so she wasn’t sure how to act in the first place. Just as he sought to learn her, she knew she must do the same, and the only way she could learn was to try. They were bound together for life, and she did not want to spend that life a stranger to her husband. She just hoped her trying would bear some fruit.
I’m sorry I spoiled it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
“Achilleas.” His name was quietly spoken, turning to look at him, even if he wouldn’t look at her directly. She could imagine the embarrassment he must feel, even as she tried to brush it off; though things hadn’t gone how she wanted, she would have to be a heartless monster not to understand why. She wished she could figure out a way to get through to him that he didn’t need to be so hard on himself. Especially not over something like this.
He finally met her gaze for a moment, a half-hearted smile weakly offered as he attempted an explanation before trailing off and falling silent again. Threading their fingers together, she sighed softly. Encouraged that he hadn’t outright pushed her away or asked her to leave, she was determined this night would not end on too sour a note.
“Achilleas,” she said again, shaking her head. “There isn’t anything wrong with you. You are human, and these past few weeks have been more than any one man should have to bear on his own.” Dropping her gaze to their conjoined hands, she doodled idly along the back of his much larger one before quietly continuing, “No one is perfect, no matter what’s expected of them. And I know… I know there’s a lot expected of you right now.” A newly crowned king getting set for war so soon after the loss of his father, and a new husband on top of it; it was not an enviable position he held. “I know you must be grieving right now, even if you won’t show it, and I just…”
She trailed off for a moment, unsure how he would respond. Would he just shrug her off and ignore her? Would anything she said just fall on deaf ears, or was there a chance he would listen? Or would he think her too forward? Did he even trust her? Gods, she wished she knew the right things to say.
“I just want you to know you can talk about it,” she said all in a rush. “I know that we haven’t… I know we don’t know each other very well yet. That there hasn’t been much time for us to know each other.” She hesitated for a second before she went on, “But I’m your wife now. And I want to be here for you, in the ways that I can. One of those ways is – or should be – helping you to carry the things that are too heavy to carry alone.”
Turning her head, she pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder before resting against it again, dropping her gaze back down to the rippling water. “All of this is too heavy to carry alone, Achilleas. I can help carry it. But only if you let me.”
Achilleas was a stoic man—she knew that much about him before they ever married. His reaction did not surprise her, even if it saddened her. She wished she knew how to help, how to soothe the pain that surely weighed him down. How to be a source of comfort and strength, rather than a burden or a nuisance. But she did not know him, not really. Had it been Emilios, she would have known what to say and how to say it, but Achilleas was not his brother. He did not react as she expected him to, and so she wasn’t sure how to act in the first place. Just as he sought to learn her, she knew she must do the same, and the only way she could learn was to try. They were bound together for life, and she did not want to spend that life a stranger to her husband. She just hoped her trying would bear some fruit.
I’m sorry I spoiled it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
“Achilleas.” His name was quietly spoken, turning to look at him, even if he wouldn’t look at her directly. She could imagine the embarrassment he must feel, even as she tried to brush it off; though things hadn’t gone how she wanted, she would have to be a heartless monster not to understand why. She wished she could figure out a way to get through to him that he didn’t need to be so hard on himself. Especially not over something like this.
He finally met her gaze for a moment, a half-hearted smile weakly offered as he attempted an explanation before trailing off and falling silent again. Threading their fingers together, she sighed softly. Encouraged that he hadn’t outright pushed her away or asked her to leave, she was determined this night would not end on too sour a note.
“Achilleas,” she said again, shaking her head. “There isn’t anything wrong with you. You are human, and these past few weeks have been more than any one man should have to bear on his own.” Dropping her gaze to their conjoined hands, she doodled idly along the back of his much larger one before quietly continuing, “No one is perfect, no matter what’s expected of them. And I know… I know there’s a lot expected of you right now.” A newly crowned king getting set for war so soon after the loss of his father, and a new husband on top of it; it was not an enviable position he held. “I know you must be grieving right now, even if you won’t show it, and I just…”
She trailed off for a moment, unsure how he would respond. Would he just shrug her off and ignore her? Would anything she said just fall on deaf ears, or was there a chance he would listen? Or would he think her too forward? Did he even trust her? Gods, she wished she knew the right things to say.
“I just want you to know you can talk about it,” she said all in a rush. “I know that we haven’t… I know we don’t know each other very well yet. That there hasn’t been much time for us to know each other.” She hesitated for a second before she went on, “But I’m your wife now. And I want to be here for you, in the ways that I can. One of those ways is – or should be – helping you to carry the things that are too heavy to carry alone.”
Turning her head, she pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder before resting against it again, dropping her gaze back down to the rippling water. “All of this is too heavy to carry alone, Achilleas. I can help carry it. But only if you let me.”
Achilleas had sat upright again, taking advantage of the fact that he was taller and that she leant into his shoulder to mean he could take a moment out from under her scrutiny. He didn’t bear it well at the best of times, and this was most certainly not that. He could feel it when she turned to gaze at him again, felt the fill of her lungs before she said his name again but his eyes remained resolutely fixed on the small imperfection in the stone tile he had spotted, and he stared at it, the lines of his face still and immobile where she could see them in profile, drawn tight with the tension that he seemed to hold within himself.
‘...these past few weeks have been more than any one man should have to bear on his own.No one is perfect, no matter what’s expected of them. And I know… I know there’s a lot expected of you right now.I know you must be grieving right now, even if you won’t show it, and I just…’
The flicker of a frown and an almost imperceptible shake of his head because perfect was...unachievable, but it wasn’t okay to grow complacent with less than that. Wasn’t that what his father had been so sure to impart? Now of all times, it would be the grossest betrayal of the man to cede to the idea that letting things slide was acceptable. Now more than ever he needed to keep going, even if it was just to prove him wrong and stick two fingers up at that last confirmation that his father had so little faith in him.
And grief? Was that what this was? Achilleas wasn’t certain it could be so cleanly defined. He had known grief before, losing friends in the field of battle, losing his Uncle and his cousin...he wasn’t unfamiliar with loss. The conflicting mess of feeling nothing then being hit with sudden anger or hurt...that was new and hard to process. But nothing about his relationship with his father had been easy; he supposed it made sense that this couldn’t be easy either.
He realised in the lull that he should say something back to convince Theodora he was fine, to allay that creeping worry he could hear in her voice and he was working on something that might sound believable when she carried on, this time sounding hurried and hesitant in the same breath. The suggestion that she was as uncertain as him in finding her feet in this marriage, the reminder that they hadn’t really had chance to begin it in any real sense of the word meant that when she did finally fall silent, he couldn’t make himself say something bland and diversionary.
It took a lot though, for him to ignore the want to deflect her concerns away and lick his wounds in private. And he was hardly eloquent in expressing himself when he did speak, confessing rather unnecessarily. “It doesn’t come easily to me...I’m not good at talking about things like that”
About himself, or intangible things that shouldn’t hold so much sway over him as they did. Achilleas could -and did - present well-thought arguments on matters of policy, or strategies to lead men to victory.And he was alarmingly good at giving orders. But what Theodora was asking was something different, and he was lost in that, it went against all of his instincts. There had not been many examples of people in his life who would expect it either: Briseis had never dared to pry, his brother and he didn’t share that kind of relationship. He didn’t invite talk of that kind.
But Achilleas wasn’t oblivious to the efforts that Theodora was making, and given he...well, he thought perhaps he owed her at least an attempt to be frank. If that was her idea of what their marriage should be.
With his discomfort written clearly across his face, he stared at their joined hands and went on. “...I don’t know what to say.” A pause where he glanced at her, because he wanted to show willing and so he settled on something simple and nothing that would be a shock to her he was sure. “ I haven’t been sleeping well?”
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Achilleas had sat upright again, taking advantage of the fact that he was taller and that she leant into his shoulder to mean he could take a moment out from under her scrutiny. He didn’t bear it well at the best of times, and this was most certainly not that. He could feel it when she turned to gaze at him again, felt the fill of her lungs before she said his name again but his eyes remained resolutely fixed on the small imperfection in the stone tile he had spotted, and he stared at it, the lines of his face still and immobile where she could see them in profile, drawn tight with the tension that he seemed to hold within himself.
‘...these past few weeks have been more than any one man should have to bear on his own.No one is perfect, no matter what’s expected of them. And I know… I know there’s a lot expected of you right now.I know you must be grieving right now, even if you won’t show it, and I just…’
The flicker of a frown and an almost imperceptible shake of his head because perfect was...unachievable, but it wasn’t okay to grow complacent with less than that. Wasn’t that what his father had been so sure to impart? Now of all times, it would be the grossest betrayal of the man to cede to the idea that letting things slide was acceptable. Now more than ever he needed to keep going, even if it was just to prove him wrong and stick two fingers up at that last confirmation that his father had so little faith in him.
And grief? Was that what this was? Achilleas wasn’t certain it could be so cleanly defined. He had known grief before, losing friends in the field of battle, losing his Uncle and his cousin...he wasn’t unfamiliar with loss. The conflicting mess of feeling nothing then being hit with sudden anger or hurt...that was new and hard to process. But nothing about his relationship with his father had been easy; he supposed it made sense that this couldn’t be easy either.
He realised in the lull that he should say something back to convince Theodora he was fine, to allay that creeping worry he could hear in her voice and he was working on something that might sound believable when she carried on, this time sounding hurried and hesitant in the same breath. The suggestion that she was as uncertain as him in finding her feet in this marriage, the reminder that they hadn’t really had chance to begin it in any real sense of the word meant that when she did finally fall silent, he couldn’t make himself say something bland and diversionary.
It took a lot though, for him to ignore the want to deflect her concerns away and lick his wounds in private. And he was hardly eloquent in expressing himself when he did speak, confessing rather unnecessarily. “It doesn’t come easily to me...I’m not good at talking about things like that”
About himself, or intangible things that shouldn’t hold so much sway over him as they did. Achilleas could -and did - present well-thought arguments on matters of policy, or strategies to lead men to victory.And he was alarmingly good at giving orders. But what Theodora was asking was something different, and he was lost in that, it went against all of his instincts. There had not been many examples of people in his life who would expect it either: Briseis had never dared to pry, his brother and he didn’t share that kind of relationship. He didn’t invite talk of that kind.
But Achilleas wasn’t oblivious to the efforts that Theodora was making, and given he...well, he thought perhaps he owed her at least an attempt to be frank. If that was her idea of what their marriage should be.
With his discomfort written clearly across his face, he stared at their joined hands and went on. “...I don’t know what to say.” A pause where he glanced at her, because he wanted to show willing and so he settled on something simple and nothing that would be a shock to her he was sure. “ I haven’t been sleeping well?”
Achilleas had sat upright again, taking advantage of the fact that he was taller and that she leant into his shoulder to mean he could take a moment out from under her scrutiny. He didn’t bear it well at the best of times, and this was most certainly not that. He could feel it when she turned to gaze at him again, felt the fill of her lungs before she said his name again but his eyes remained resolutely fixed on the small imperfection in the stone tile he had spotted, and he stared at it, the lines of his face still and immobile where she could see them in profile, drawn tight with the tension that he seemed to hold within himself.
‘...these past few weeks have been more than any one man should have to bear on his own.No one is perfect, no matter what’s expected of them. And I know… I know there’s a lot expected of you right now.I know you must be grieving right now, even if you won’t show it, and I just…’
The flicker of a frown and an almost imperceptible shake of his head because perfect was...unachievable, but it wasn’t okay to grow complacent with less than that. Wasn’t that what his father had been so sure to impart? Now of all times, it would be the grossest betrayal of the man to cede to the idea that letting things slide was acceptable. Now more than ever he needed to keep going, even if it was just to prove him wrong and stick two fingers up at that last confirmation that his father had so little faith in him.
And grief? Was that what this was? Achilleas wasn’t certain it could be so cleanly defined. He had known grief before, losing friends in the field of battle, losing his Uncle and his cousin...he wasn’t unfamiliar with loss. The conflicting mess of feeling nothing then being hit with sudden anger or hurt...that was new and hard to process. But nothing about his relationship with his father had been easy; he supposed it made sense that this couldn’t be easy either.
He realised in the lull that he should say something back to convince Theodora he was fine, to allay that creeping worry he could hear in her voice and he was working on something that might sound believable when she carried on, this time sounding hurried and hesitant in the same breath. The suggestion that she was as uncertain as him in finding her feet in this marriage, the reminder that they hadn’t really had chance to begin it in any real sense of the word meant that when she did finally fall silent, he couldn’t make himself say something bland and diversionary.
It took a lot though, for him to ignore the want to deflect her concerns away and lick his wounds in private. And he was hardly eloquent in expressing himself when he did speak, confessing rather unnecessarily. “It doesn’t come easily to me...I’m not good at talking about things like that”
About himself, or intangible things that shouldn’t hold so much sway over him as they did. Achilleas could -and did - present well-thought arguments on matters of policy, or strategies to lead men to victory.And he was alarmingly good at giving orders. But what Theodora was asking was something different, and he was lost in that, it went against all of his instincts. There had not been many examples of people in his life who would expect it either: Briseis had never dared to pry, his brother and he didn’t share that kind of relationship. He didn’t invite talk of that kind.
But Achilleas wasn’t oblivious to the efforts that Theodora was making, and given he...well, he thought perhaps he owed her at least an attempt to be frank. If that was her idea of what their marriage should be.
With his discomfort written clearly across his face, he stared at their joined hands and went on. “...I don’t know what to say.” A pause where he glanced at her, because he wanted to show willing and so he settled on something simple and nothing that would be a shock to her he was sure. “ I haven’t been sleeping well?”
It doesn’t come easily to me...I’m not good at talking about things like that.
As if he needed to state something so obvious, but Theodora made no comment on it. At least he was saying something, which, frankly, surprised her. She had fully expected him to clam up and remain silent, deflect her, or even put an end to the conversation. It gave her cautious hope that he didn’t do any of those things and instead seemed willing to make an attempt. Now, to see if she could keep him talking.
“I don’t think many of us are,” she responded. “It’s not easy.” And gods, did she know it. Even as she asked for her husband to relieve himself of his troubles, there was plenty she kept locked up tight. It seemed unfair that Theo should ask for honesty that she wasn’t willing to reciprocate, but this was… different. The kind of honesty she was asking for would help him in the end. The kind of honesty she withheld, on the other hand, would only do the opposite.
That justified it, right?
Clearing her head of such thoughts that were quite irrelevant at the moment, she watched the subtle changes in the king’s face, the betraying of a tension so tight, it was a wonder he didn’t snap in half. Admitting he didn’t know what to say, Achilleas paused and looked at her, while she simply squeezed his hand in encouragement. She didn’t want to poke too much and send him reeling back into silence, waiting patiently until he spoke again.
I haven’t been sleeping well?
Well did she know it, his restless tossing and turning at her side ensuring she did not sleep very well, either. “Yes, I’ve noticed,” she said with a half a smile. “It’s not surprising, though. What’s more surprising is you’ve managed to sleep at all.” Though, for all she knew, maybe he hadn’t. She’d looked over at him to see his eyes closed, but what did that really mean? He could be faking it. What she did know was that he came to bed so late and rose so early that he could only be snatching a couple hours at best.
“Do you dream?” she asked quietly, glancing up at him for a moment before dropping her gaze. “I know I’ve had a few nightmares since…” Since she had watched Irakles drop dead practically at their feet, but she didn’t really want to explicitly say that. And if it haunted her, she could only imagine how it would affect the man’s son. “Since, well, you know. It happened.” She was sure he would take her meaning without her having to say it outright.
“You know, you could talk to one of the physicians,” she suggested, almost shy as she spoke. “For a sleeping tonic. If you could sleep better, it might help with everything else.” A slim shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Or if you don’t want to, I could ask and say it’s for me. Then no one would know.”
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It doesn’t come easily to me...I’m not good at talking about things like that.
As if he needed to state something so obvious, but Theodora made no comment on it. At least he was saying something, which, frankly, surprised her. She had fully expected him to clam up and remain silent, deflect her, or even put an end to the conversation. It gave her cautious hope that he didn’t do any of those things and instead seemed willing to make an attempt. Now, to see if she could keep him talking.
“I don’t think many of us are,” she responded. “It’s not easy.” And gods, did she know it. Even as she asked for her husband to relieve himself of his troubles, there was plenty she kept locked up tight. It seemed unfair that Theo should ask for honesty that she wasn’t willing to reciprocate, but this was… different. The kind of honesty she was asking for would help him in the end. The kind of honesty she withheld, on the other hand, would only do the opposite.
That justified it, right?
Clearing her head of such thoughts that were quite irrelevant at the moment, she watched the subtle changes in the king’s face, the betraying of a tension so tight, it was a wonder he didn’t snap in half. Admitting he didn’t know what to say, Achilleas paused and looked at her, while she simply squeezed his hand in encouragement. She didn’t want to poke too much and send him reeling back into silence, waiting patiently until he spoke again.
I haven’t been sleeping well?
Well did she know it, his restless tossing and turning at her side ensuring she did not sleep very well, either. “Yes, I’ve noticed,” she said with a half a smile. “It’s not surprising, though. What’s more surprising is you’ve managed to sleep at all.” Though, for all she knew, maybe he hadn’t. She’d looked over at him to see his eyes closed, but what did that really mean? He could be faking it. What she did know was that he came to bed so late and rose so early that he could only be snatching a couple hours at best.
“Do you dream?” she asked quietly, glancing up at him for a moment before dropping her gaze. “I know I’ve had a few nightmares since…” Since she had watched Irakles drop dead practically at their feet, but she didn’t really want to explicitly say that. And if it haunted her, she could only imagine how it would affect the man’s son. “Since, well, you know. It happened.” She was sure he would take her meaning without her having to say it outright.
“You know, you could talk to one of the physicians,” she suggested, almost shy as she spoke. “For a sleeping tonic. If you could sleep better, it might help with everything else.” A slim shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Or if you don’t want to, I could ask and say it’s for me. Then no one would know.”
It doesn’t come easily to me...I’m not good at talking about things like that.
As if he needed to state something so obvious, but Theodora made no comment on it. At least he was saying something, which, frankly, surprised her. She had fully expected him to clam up and remain silent, deflect her, or even put an end to the conversation. It gave her cautious hope that he didn’t do any of those things and instead seemed willing to make an attempt. Now, to see if she could keep him talking.
“I don’t think many of us are,” she responded. “It’s not easy.” And gods, did she know it. Even as she asked for her husband to relieve himself of his troubles, there was plenty she kept locked up tight. It seemed unfair that Theo should ask for honesty that she wasn’t willing to reciprocate, but this was… different. The kind of honesty she was asking for would help him in the end. The kind of honesty she withheld, on the other hand, would only do the opposite.
That justified it, right?
Clearing her head of such thoughts that were quite irrelevant at the moment, she watched the subtle changes in the king’s face, the betraying of a tension so tight, it was a wonder he didn’t snap in half. Admitting he didn’t know what to say, Achilleas paused and looked at her, while she simply squeezed his hand in encouragement. She didn’t want to poke too much and send him reeling back into silence, waiting patiently until he spoke again.
I haven’t been sleeping well?
Well did she know it, his restless tossing and turning at her side ensuring she did not sleep very well, either. “Yes, I’ve noticed,” she said with a half a smile. “It’s not surprising, though. What’s more surprising is you’ve managed to sleep at all.” Though, for all she knew, maybe he hadn’t. She’d looked over at him to see his eyes closed, but what did that really mean? He could be faking it. What she did know was that he came to bed so late and rose so early that he could only be snatching a couple hours at best.
“Do you dream?” she asked quietly, glancing up at him for a moment before dropping her gaze. “I know I’ve had a few nightmares since…” Since she had watched Irakles drop dead practically at their feet, but she didn’t really want to explicitly say that. And if it haunted her, she could only imagine how it would affect the man’s son. “Since, well, you know. It happened.” She was sure he would take her meaning without her having to say it outright.
“You know, you could talk to one of the physicians,” she suggested, almost shy as she spoke. “For a sleeping tonic. If you could sleep better, it might help with everything else.” A slim shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Or if you don’t want to, I could ask and say it’s for me. Then no one would know.”
There was a twinge of guilt at the notion that his unrest had been disturbing Theodora too. She had not stirred or reached for him in those waking hours so he had assumed that she slept whilst he did not. And when she mentioned that her dreams had been unsettled since their wedding day he shot her a look that was tinged with a concern of his own. So wrapped up in his struggles, he had barely spared a thought for the fact that it must have been a shock for her too. Death was a strange thing when one hadn’t seen it before.
“No” he had to pause and clear his throat because the word came out thickly. “I don’t dream.” And with a supreme amount of effort, he forced himself to elucidate a little further. “More I can't stop thinking”
About his father.About the war.About Stephanos and how he could help. About the things that had been keeping him awake even before his father died, that uncertainty about the role the man had played in his cousin’s downfall, and worse..in the events of the circus. More than anything Achilleas fretted about making some mistake that would cost them. There were too many variables at play for him to be comfortable in anything and yet no choice but to keep moving forward regardless. And he had to do it with a smile on his face that suggested to the people of Taengea that all would be well.
“Its easier to be busy..when I am doing nothing, that’s when it becomes..”Unbearable “an irritant.” Or more difficult to ignore, which is what the Mikaelidas lord had perfected over the years when things made him uncomfortable.
When Theodora suggested a sleep tonic, Achilleas looked at her consideringly for a moment. The premise of it sounded amazing; he would love to have the luxury of a solid night’s sleep but the solider in him resisted. It never paid to be drugged insensible, and it was not the kind of thing he’d experiment with so close to leaving on a campaign where he would need all of his senses sharp and uninhibited. He shook his head and smiled faintly.
“That’s kind of you, but no.” he said, “If it wasn’t for leaving so soon perhaps I might try it but..” He left the rest unsaid. The days were few before the Taengeans would set sail, too close to be anything other than a continual presence in their thoughts. “I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you though. I tried not to.”
Because even having someone in his bed every night was an adjustment, being aware of Theodora’s breathing and movement, the shift of the bed when she rolled over. There had been occasions where Briseis would linger a while after, but he had always insisted she steal back to her own room before the day begun so there would be no cause for the other servants to question where she was. And though no man in their right mind would object to sharing a bed with Theodora, it was just different again, and perhaps Achilleas took a while to adjust to change.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked,another glance slanted toward her. “ The talking?” He was mostly joking.
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There was a twinge of guilt at the notion that his unrest had been disturbing Theodora too. She had not stirred or reached for him in those waking hours so he had assumed that she slept whilst he did not. And when she mentioned that her dreams had been unsettled since their wedding day he shot her a look that was tinged with a concern of his own. So wrapped up in his struggles, he had barely spared a thought for the fact that it must have been a shock for her too. Death was a strange thing when one hadn’t seen it before.
“No” he had to pause and clear his throat because the word came out thickly. “I don’t dream.” And with a supreme amount of effort, he forced himself to elucidate a little further. “More I can't stop thinking”
About his father.About the war.About Stephanos and how he could help. About the things that had been keeping him awake even before his father died, that uncertainty about the role the man had played in his cousin’s downfall, and worse..in the events of the circus. More than anything Achilleas fretted about making some mistake that would cost them. There were too many variables at play for him to be comfortable in anything and yet no choice but to keep moving forward regardless. And he had to do it with a smile on his face that suggested to the people of Taengea that all would be well.
“Its easier to be busy..when I am doing nothing, that’s when it becomes..”Unbearable “an irritant.” Or more difficult to ignore, which is what the Mikaelidas lord had perfected over the years when things made him uncomfortable.
When Theodora suggested a sleep tonic, Achilleas looked at her consideringly for a moment. The premise of it sounded amazing; he would love to have the luxury of a solid night’s sleep but the solider in him resisted. It never paid to be drugged insensible, and it was not the kind of thing he’d experiment with so close to leaving on a campaign where he would need all of his senses sharp and uninhibited. He shook his head and smiled faintly.
“That’s kind of you, but no.” he said, “If it wasn’t for leaving so soon perhaps I might try it but..” He left the rest unsaid. The days were few before the Taengeans would set sail, too close to be anything other than a continual presence in their thoughts. “I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you though. I tried not to.”
Because even having someone in his bed every night was an adjustment, being aware of Theodora’s breathing and movement, the shift of the bed when she rolled over. There had been occasions where Briseis would linger a while after, but he had always insisted she steal back to her own room before the day begun so there would be no cause for the other servants to question where she was. And though no man in their right mind would object to sharing a bed with Theodora, it was just different again, and perhaps Achilleas took a while to adjust to change.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked,another glance slanted toward her. “ The talking?” He was mostly joking.
There was a twinge of guilt at the notion that his unrest had been disturbing Theodora too. She had not stirred or reached for him in those waking hours so he had assumed that she slept whilst he did not. And when she mentioned that her dreams had been unsettled since their wedding day he shot her a look that was tinged with a concern of his own. So wrapped up in his struggles, he had barely spared a thought for the fact that it must have been a shock for her too. Death was a strange thing when one hadn’t seen it before.
“No” he had to pause and clear his throat because the word came out thickly. “I don’t dream.” And with a supreme amount of effort, he forced himself to elucidate a little further. “More I can't stop thinking”
About his father.About the war.About Stephanos and how he could help. About the things that had been keeping him awake even before his father died, that uncertainty about the role the man had played in his cousin’s downfall, and worse..in the events of the circus. More than anything Achilleas fretted about making some mistake that would cost them. There were too many variables at play for him to be comfortable in anything and yet no choice but to keep moving forward regardless. And he had to do it with a smile on his face that suggested to the people of Taengea that all would be well.
“Its easier to be busy..when I am doing nothing, that’s when it becomes..”Unbearable “an irritant.” Or more difficult to ignore, which is what the Mikaelidas lord had perfected over the years when things made him uncomfortable.
When Theodora suggested a sleep tonic, Achilleas looked at her consideringly for a moment. The premise of it sounded amazing; he would love to have the luxury of a solid night’s sleep but the solider in him resisted. It never paid to be drugged insensible, and it was not the kind of thing he’d experiment with so close to leaving on a campaign where he would need all of his senses sharp and uninhibited. He shook his head and smiled faintly.
“That’s kind of you, but no.” he said, “If it wasn’t for leaving so soon perhaps I might try it but..” He left the rest unsaid. The days were few before the Taengeans would set sail, too close to be anything other than a continual presence in their thoughts. “I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you though. I tried not to.”
Because even having someone in his bed every night was an adjustment, being aware of Theodora’s breathing and movement, the shift of the bed when she rolled over. There had been occasions where Briseis would linger a while after, but he had always insisted she steal back to her own room before the day begun so there would be no cause for the other servants to question where she was. And though no man in their right mind would object to sharing a bed with Theodora, it was just different again, and perhaps Achilleas took a while to adjust to change.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked,another glance slanted toward her. “ The talking?” He was mostly joking.
Again, to her surprise, Achilleas kept speaking, even elaborated a little further on what kept him awake. It made sense, that he couldn’t still his thoughts. So much had happened in so short of a time, and even a person who wasn’t half as meticulous as he was wouldn’t be able to keep their mind straight. Thedora remained quiet as he spoke, allowing him the chance to explain himself without any intrusive questioning.
“I understand,” she said when he explained it was easier to be busy, that doing nothing made it an ‘irritant.’ A bland way of putting it, but she could understand the sentiment behind it. For her, too, it was easier to do things, to keep herself occupied lest her own thoughts bear down on her. “I can sympathize, even if it’s not quite the same. You have been through so much in these past weeks, Achilleas. And from what I have seen, you have borne it all with… admirable strength.” She squeezed his fingers with a small smile. “But it’s all right to let yourself… feel it sometimes. Otherwise, it will just build and build until it breaks out of your control. Sometimes, there are things that can’t just be ignored and shoved aside.” Like losing your father, though she kept this silent. It still felt wrong to say it aloud, even if they both knew what they were talking about. Mostly, she was afraid of saying too much and causing him to retreat back behind that mask he wore like armor.
It was advice she had offered her younger sisters in the past, granted for far less serious situations. But it was no less true because of that. Better to feel such things on your own terms, rather than they break out at the worst of times… say… in a bath, having sex with your wife. Though, this, again, she did not say; no need for such criticism when he was finally starting to open up.
He thanked her for the suggestion for a sleeping tonic, but ultimately denied it, instead apologizing to her for her own lack of rest. She shook her head, dismissing the worry. Here they were, discussing his own troubles, and yet he still deflected onto her. A defense mechanism, she supposed, but a thoughtful one. “It’s all right. I’ve still slept more than you have, I think. It will get better.”
Like him, it wasn’t just the nightmares. There was the simple matter of adjusting to another’s presence at her side, another still so unfamiliar to her. She had shared nights with Emilios, but even those had been few—the secret nature of their affair meant such niceties were hard to achieve. A few snatched hours were typically the best they could hope for, rarely an entire night. And when they had, well… there hadn’t usually been much sleeping involved.
Once more, she forced thoughts of Emilios from her head; her husband’s brother had no place here, no bearing on what was happening now. He was the past, and no matter how she felt about that, Achilleas was her future. He was the one she needed to focus on now, to offer what parts of herself she could.
Is this what you wanted? The talking?
He may have been joking, but she wasn’t when she answered simply, “Yes.” Glancing up at him, she shrugged and smiled. “Maybe not, you know, initially, but now that it’s happening, I’m glad of it.” Her thumb stroked lightly along the back of his hand as she went on, “Thank you. For even being willing to.”
There was an amicable silence as Theodora’s hand parted from his only to trace gently up his arm, stopping at a mottled bruise she hadn’t noticed before. “What’s this?” she asked with a concerned frown, gently tapping the unblemished skin next to it. “Did you hurt yourself?”
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Again, to her surprise, Achilleas kept speaking, even elaborated a little further on what kept him awake. It made sense, that he couldn’t still his thoughts. So much had happened in so short of a time, and even a person who wasn’t half as meticulous as he was wouldn’t be able to keep their mind straight. Thedora remained quiet as he spoke, allowing him the chance to explain himself without any intrusive questioning.
“I understand,” she said when he explained it was easier to be busy, that doing nothing made it an ‘irritant.’ A bland way of putting it, but she could understand the sentiment behind it. For her, too, it was easier to do things, to keep herself occupied lest her own thoughts bear down on her. “I can sympathize, even if it’s not quite the same. You have been through so much in these past weeks, Achilleas. And from what I have seen, you have borne it all with… admirable strength.” She squeezed his fingers with a small smile. “But it’s all right to let yourself… feel it sometimes. Otherwise, it will just build and build until it breaks out of your control. Sometimes, there are things that can’t just be ignored and shoved aside.” Like losing your father, though she kept this silent. It still felt wrong to say it aloud, even if they both knew what they were talking about. Mostly, she was afraid of saying too much and causing him to retreat back behind that mask he wore like armor.
It was advice she had offered her younger sisters in the past, granted for far less serious situations. But it was no less true because of that. Better to feel such things on your own terms, rather than they break out at the worst of times… say… in a bath, having sex with your wife. Though, this, again, she did not say; no need for such criticism when he was finally starting to open up.
He thanked her for the suggestion for a sleeping tonic, but ultimately denied it, instead apologizing to her for her own lack of rest. She shook her head, dismissing the worry. Here they were, discussing his own troubles, and yet he still deflected onto her. A defense mechanism, she supposed, but a thoughtful one. “It’s all right. I’ve still slept more than you have, I think. It will get better.”
Like him, it wasn’t just the nightmares. There was the simple matter of adjusting to another’s presence at her side, another still so unfamiliar to her. She had shared nights with Emilios, but even those had been few—the secret nature of their affair meant such niceties were hard to achieve. A few snatched hours were typically the best they could hope for, rarely an entire night. And when they had, well… there hadn’t usually been much sleeping involved.
Once more, she forced thoughts of Emilios from her head; her husband’s brother had no place here, no bearing on what was happening now. He was the past, and no matter how she felt about that, Achilleas was her future. He was the one she needed to focus on now, to offer what parts of herself she could.
Is this what you wanted? The talking?
He may have been joking, but she wasn’t when she answered simply, “Yes.” Glancing up at him, she shrugged and smiled. “Maybe not, you know, initially, but now that it’s happening, I’m glad of it.” Her thumb stroked lightly along the back of his hand as she went on, “Thank you. For even being willing to.”
There was an amicable silence as Theodora’s hand parted from his only to trace gently up his arm, stopping at a mottled bruise she hadn’t noticed before. “What’s this?” she asked with a concerned frown, gently tapping the unblemished skin next to it. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Again, to her surprise, Achilleas kept speaking, even elaborated a little further on what kept him awake. It made sense, that he couldn’t still his thoughts. So much had happened in so short of a time, and even a person who wasn’t half as meticulous as he was wouldn’t be able to keep their mind straight. Thedora remained quiet as he spoke, allowing him the chance to explain himself without any intrusive questioning.
“I understand,” she said when he explained it was easier to be busy, that doing nothing made it an ‘irritant.’ A bland way of putting it, but she could understand the sentiment behind it. For her, too, it was easier to do things, to keep herself occupied lest her own thoughts bear down on her. “I can sympathize, even if it’s not quite the same. You have been through so much in these past weeks, Achilleas. And from what I have seen, you have borne it all with… admirable strength.” She squeezed his fingers with a small smile. “But it’s all right to let yourself… feel it sometimes. Otherwise, it will just build and build until it breaks out of your control. Sometimes, there are things that can’t just be ignored and shoved aside.” Like losing your father, though she kept this silent. It still felt wrong to say it aloud, even if they both knew what they were talking about. Mostly, she was afraid of saying too much and causing him to retreat back behind that mask he wore like armor.
It was advice she had offered her younger sisters in the past, granted for far less serious situations. But it was no less true because of that. Better to feel such things on your own terms, rather than they break out at the worst of times… say… in a bath, having sex with your wife. Though, this, again, she did not say; no need for such criticism when he was finally starting to open up.
He thanked her for the suggestion for a sleeping tonic, but ultimately denied it, instead apologizing to her for her own lack of rest. She shook her head, dismissing the worry. Here they were, discussing his own troubles, and yet he still deflected onto her. A defense mechanism, she supposed, but a thoughtful one. “It’s all right. I’ve still slept more than you have, I think. It will get better.”
Like him, it wasn’t just the nightmares. There was the simple matter of adjusting to another’s presence at her side, another still so unfamiliar to her. She had shared nights with Emilios, but even those had been few—the secret nature of their affair meant such niceties were hard to achieve. A few snatched hours were typically the best they could hope for, rarely an entire night. And when they had, well… there hadn’t usually been much sleeping involved.
Once more, she forced thoughts of Emilios from her head; her husband’s brother had no place here, no bearing on what was happening now. He was the past, and no matter how she felt about that, Achilleas was her future. He was the one she needed to focus on now, to offer what parts of herself she could.
Is this what you wanted? The talking?
He may have been joking, but she wasn’t when she answered simply, “Yes.” Glancing up at him, she shrugged and smiled. “Maybe not, you know, initially, but now that it’s happening, I’m glad of it.” Her thumb stroked lightly along the back of his hand as she went on, “Thank you. For even being willing to.”
There was an amicable silence as Theodora’s hand parted from his only to trace gently up his arm, stopping at a mottled bruise she hadn’t noticed before. “What’s this?” she asked with a concerned frown, gently tapping the unblemished skin next to it. “Did you hurt yourself?”
He’d been nine the first time he’d taken a real clunk in a sparring match. The hilt of a practice sword swung into the side of his head and he’d been dizzy and upset, had run from the courtyard to where his mother sat in the solar, wanting comfort and the gentleness of her hands rather than the coarse and brusque weapons master. He’d tried not to cry but was making a mess of her chiton where she’d hugged him. He hadn’t known his father was even at home. But he was home, and Irakles of Mikaelidas was less than pleased to find his eldest boy in the arms of his mousy wife instead of training like he should have been. It had been Achilleas’ mother who had weathered the first bite of his tongue as the General scolded her for making his son soft and weak. And then Achilleas had found himself marched summarily back out to the training yard, ears still ringing and feeling like he might be sick. His father had yanked them to a halt and told him to wipe away his tears, because warriors, he said, did not cry. Not for themselves or anybody else.
There had been many such lessons, and yet Achilleas knew his father had never really stopped thinking him soft. Ironic then, he thought, that it seemed as if now he was being criticised for embodying everything the man had taught him.
‘You have been through so much in these past weeks, Achilleas. And from what I have seen, you have borne it all with… admirable strength. But it’s all right to let yourself… feel it sometimes. Otherwise, it will just build and build until it breaks out of your control. Sometimes, there are things that can’t just be ignored and shoved aside’
He swallowed, resisted the sudden urge to pull his hand back and away because she was pushing at things that he didn’t know how to acknowledge. He knew what she meant, knew it and resented it all the same. He didn’t want to feel the way he did, to be so buffeted by an emotional response to something he could not change or control. He didn’t want to have reason and rationality carved away so that what people saw was the soft innards that he worked so hard to keep hidden. Especially now, now the eyes of a kingdom rested upon him.
“Am I supposed to fall apart then?” He had meant to make light of it, to inject enough derision into his tone that it would convey how ridiculous the idea was but the laugh he tacked on the end sounded more nervous than genuine. He hated it and was glad when she offered up the sleeping potions and he could answer with more conviction.
And when she smiled at him, something that had been coiled tight and defensive within him relaxed a little. She was glad and that was good, and if it was some way to save them from the previous disaster then perhaps he could bear it. The touch that ghosted over his arm had him look down at Achilleas paused a moment before he rubbed his hand over the bruising and shook his head.
“Its nothing...just a…” And he was looking for something innocuous to say, but when he looked over at Theodora, his words trailed off and he drew a breath. He could be honest with her about this. “ It’s stupid. Aenaeus...he was my father’s horse? Been sulking and eating stable boys. I made the mistake of thinking I might be able to help. Turns out, doesn’t like me any more than he likes than the stable boys.”
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He’d been nine the first time he’d taken a real clunk in a sparring match. The hilt of a practice sword swung into the side of his head and he’d been dizzy and upset, had run from the courtyard to where his mother sat in the solar, wanting comfort and the gentleness of her hands rather than the coarse and brusque weapons master. He’d tried not to cry but was making a mess of her chiton where she’d hugged him. He hadn’t known his father was even at home. But he was home, and Irakles of Mikaelidas was less than pleased to find his eldest boy in the arms of his mousy wife instead of training like he should have been. It had been Achilleas’ mother who had weathered the first bite of his tongue as the General scolded her for making his son soft and weak. And then Achilleas had found himself marched summarily back out to the training yard, ears still ringing and feeling like he might be sick. His father had yanked them to a halt and told him to wipe away his tears, because warriors, he said, did not cry. Not for themselves or anybody else.
There had been many such lessons, and yet Achilleas knew his father had never really stopped thinking him soft. Ironic then, he thought, that it seemed as if now he was being criticised for embodying everything the man had taught him.
‘You have been through so much in these past weeks, Achilleas. And from what I have seen, you have borne it all with… admirable strength. But it’s all right to let yourself… feel it sometimes. Otherwise, it will just build and build until it breaks out of your control. Sometimes, there are things that can’t just be ignored and shoved aside’
He swallowed, resisted the sudden urge to pull his hand back and away because she was pushing at things that he didn’t know how to acknowledge. He knew what she meant, knew it and resented it all the same. He didn’t want to feel the way he did, to be so buffeted by an emotional response to something he could not change or control. He didn’t want to have reason and rationality carved away so that what people saw was the soft innards that he worked so hard to keep hidden. Especially now, now the eyes of a kingdom rested upon him.
“Am I supposed to fall apart then?” He had meant to make light of it, to inject enough derision into his tone that it would convey how ridiculous the idea was but the laugh he tacked on the end sounded more nervous than genuine. He hated it and was glad when she offered up the sleeping potions and he could answer with more conviction.
And when she smiled at him, something that had been coiled tight and defensive within him relaxed a little. She was glad and that was good, and if it was some way to save them from the previous disaster then perhaps he could bear it. The touch that ghosted over his arm had him look down at Achilleas paused a moment before he rubbed his hand over the bruising and shook his head.
“Its nothing...just a…” And he was looking for something innocuous to say, but when he looked over at Theodora, his words trailed off and he drew a breath. He could be honest with her about this. “ It’s stupid. Aenaeus...he was my father’s horse? Been sulking and eating stable boys. I made the mistake of thinking I might be able to help. Turns out, doesn’t like me any more than he likes than the stable boys.”
He’d been nine the first time he’d taken a real clunk in a sparring match. The hilt of a practice sword swung into the side of his head and he’d been dizzy and upset, had run from the courtyard to where his mother sat in the solar, wanting comfort and the gentleness of her hands rather than the coarse and brusque weapons master. He’d tried not to cry but was making a mess of her chiton where she’d hugged him. He hadn’t known his father was even at home. But he was home, and Irakles of Mikaelidas was less than pleased to find his eldest boy in the arms of his mousy wife instead of training like he should have been. It had been Achilleas’ mother who had weathered the first bite of his tongue as the General scolded her for making his son soft and weak. And then Achilleas had found himself marched summarily back out to the training yard, ears still ringing and feeling like he might be sick. His father had yanked them to a halt and told him to wipe away his tears, because warriors, he said, did not cry. Not for themselves or anybody else.
There had been many such lessons, and yet Achilleas knew his father had never really stopped thinking him soft. Ironic then, he thought, that it seemed as if now he was being criticised for embodying everything the man had taught him.
‘You have been through so much in these past weeks, Achilleas. And from what I have seen, you have borne it all with… admirable strength. But it’s all right to let yourself… feel it sometimes. Otherwise, it will just build and build until it breaks out of your control. Sometimes, there are things that can’t just be ignored and shoved aside’
He swallowed, resisted the sudden urge to pull his hand back and away because she was pushing at things that he didn’t know how to acknowledge. He knew what she meant, knew it and resented it all the same. He didn’t want to feel the way he did, to be so buffeted by an emotional response to something he could not change or control. He didn’t want to have reason and rationality carved away so that what people saw was the soft innards that he worked so hard to keep hidden. Especially now, now the eyes of a kingdom rested upon him.
“Am I supposed to fall apart then?” He had meant to make light of it, to inject enough derision into his tone that it would convey how ridiculous the idea was but the laugh he tacked on the end sounded more nervous than genuine. He hated it and was glad when she offered up the sleeping potions and he could answer with more conviction.
And when she smiled at him, something that had been coiled tight and defensive within him relaxed a little. She was glad and that was good, and if it was some way to save them from the previous disaster then perhaps he could bear it. The touch that ghosted over his arm had him look down at Achilleas paused a moment before he rubbed his hand over the bruising and shook his head.
“Its nothing...just a…” And he was looking for something innocuous to say, but when he looked over at Theodora, his words trailed off and he drew a breath. He could be honest with her about this. “ It’s stupid. Aenaeus...he was my father’s horse? Been sulking and eating stable boys. I made the mistake of thinking I might be able to help. Turns out, doesn’t like me any more than he likes than the stable boys.”
Am I supposed to fall apart then?
“If you need to.” Her answer was quiet and simple, offered with a shrug, serious even if his words had been meant as a jest. He might think it an unappealing notion, but perhaps he needed to break down, needed that release, even if he couldn’t admit it. “Not completely, of course, but…” She trailed off and ultimately dropped it, their conversation moving onto lighter things. Theodora felt she had probably prodded him enough, content to let it lie. He had already surprised her with what he did reveal, and she didn’t want him to think she was prying. If he offered anything further, she would let it be on his own terms. For now, anyway.
His hand rubbed over the bruise after she asked about it, the concern on her face fading to laughter when he explained what it was. “Do you always have such poor luck with horses?” she teased, looking at the mark a little closer to make out the telltale pattern of teeth. “I hope for your sake that your own mount likes you, at least.”
It was sweet though, that he’d tried, revealing another layer of depth that Theodora was secretly delighted to find. She had hoped to find there was more to Achilleas than the hardened exterior he portrayed, and even if this conversation had been preceded with such awkwardness, she was glad for it. If things had gone perfectly, would they have had the chance, or even the reason to talk like this?
She laughed again, releasing his arm in favor of taking his hand again. “It could have been worse, though. At least he didn’t eat you.” Lips twisting into a grin at his wording, she asked, “Those poor stableboys, just horse chow now, eh? I guess we ought to send out a call for some new ones. Think we should warn them first?”
Releasing him, she belatedly remembered part of the purpose of coming here, standing up only to submerge herself again. Coming back up to shake out her hair, she selected a different oil to the one she’d run through her husband’s hair. Sniffling delicately at the bottle, she smiled at the scent of jasmine. Settling back next to Achilleas again, she pulled her wet curls forward, dabbing the oil on her palms. Running her fingers through her hair and carefully combing out the tangles in the process, she glanced up at her husband with her head cocked to the side.
“You know, we still have not gone riding together,” she pointed out with a smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. “And now I’m curious to see if your own horse really does like you. Perhaps one night before you leave?” she suggested hopefully, almost shyly. “I know you are so busy during the day, but the trails are so much more beautiful by moonlight, anyway. Surely you can spare an hour or two?”
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Am I supposed to fall apart then?
“If you need to.” Her answer was quiet and simple, offered with a shrug, serious even if his words had been meant as a jest. He might think it an unappealing notion, but perhaps he needed to break down, needed that release, even if he couldn’t admit it. “Not completely, of course, but…” She trailed off and ultimately dropped it, their conversation moving onto lighter things. Theodora felt she had probably prodded him enough, content to let it lie. He had already surprised her with what he did reveal, and she didn’t want him to think she was prying. If he offered anything further, she would let it be on his own terms. For now, anyway.
His hand rubbed over the bruise after she asked about it, the concern on her face fading to laughter when he explained what it was. “Do you always have such poor luck with horses?” she teased, looking at the mark a little closer to make out the telltale pattern of teeth. “I hope for your sake that your own mount likes you, at least.”
It was sweet though, that he’d tried, revealing another layer of depth that Theodora was secretly delighted to find. She had hoped to find there was more to Achilleas than the hardened exterior he portrayed, and even if this conversation had been preceded with such awkwardness, she was glad for it. If things had gone perfectly, would they have had the chance, or even the reason to talk like this?
She laughed again, releasing his arm in favor of taking his hand again. “It could have been worse, though. At least he didn’t eat you.” Lips twisting into a grin at his wording, she asked, “Those poor stableboys, just horse chow now, eh? I guess we ought to send out a call for some new ones. Think we should warn them first?”
Releasing him, she belatedly remembered part of the purpose of coming here, standing up only to submerge herself again. Coming back up to shake out her hair, she selected a different oil to the one she’d run through her husband’s hair. Sniffling delicately at the bottle, she smiled at the scent of jasmine. Settling back next to Achilleas again, she pulled her wet curls forward, dabbing the oil on her palms. Running her fingers through her hair and carefully combing out the tangles in the process, she glanced up at her husband with her head cocked to the side.
“You know, we still have not gone riding together,” she pointed out with a smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. “And now I’m curious to see if your own horse really does like you. Perhaps one night before you leave?” she suggested hopefully, almost shyly. “I know you are so busy during the day, but the trails are so much more beautiful by moonlight, anyway. Surely you can spare an hour or two?”
Am I supposed to fall apart then?
“If you need to.” Her answer was quiet and simple, offered with a shrug, serious even if his words had been meant as a jest. He might think it an unappealing notion, but perhaps he needed to break down, needed that release, even if he couldn’t admit it. “Not completely, of course, but…” She trailed off and ultimately dropped it, their conversation moving onto lighter things. Theodora felt she had probably prodded him enough, content to let it lie. He had already surprised her with what he did reveal, and she didn’t want him to think she was prying. If he offered anything further, she would let it be on his own terms. For now, anyway.
His hand rubbed over the bruise after she asked about it, the concern on her face fading to laughter when he explained what it was. “Do you always have such poor luck with horses?” she teased, looking at the mark a little closer to make out the telltale pattern of teeth. “I hope for your sake that your own mount likes you, at least.”
It was sweet though, that he’d tried, revealing another layer of depth that Theodora was secretly delighted to find. She had hoped to find there was more to Achilleas than the hardened exterior he portrayed, and even if this conversation had been preceded with such awkwardness, she was glad for it. If things had gone perfectly, would they have had the chance, or even the reason to talk like this?
She laughed again, releasing his arm in favor of taking his hand again. “It could have been worse, though. At least he didn’t eat you.” Lips twisting into a grin at his wording, she asked, “Those poor stableboys, just horse chow now, eh? I guess we ought to send out a call for some new ones. Think we should warn them first?”
Releasing him, she belatedly remembered part of the purpose of coming here, standing up only to submerge herself again. Coming back up to shake out her hair, she selected a different oil to the one she’d run through her husband’s hair. Sniffling delicately at the bottle, she smiled at the scent of jasmine. Settling back next to Achilleas again, she pulled her wet curls forward, dabbing the oil on her palms. Running her fingers through her hair and carefully combing out the tangles in the process, she glanced up at her husband with her head cocked to the side.
“You know, we still have not gone riding together,” she pointed out with a smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. “And now I’m curious to see if your own horse really does like you. Perhaps one night before you leave?” she suggested hopefully, almost shyly. “I know you are so busy during the day, but the trails are so much more beautiful by moonlight, anyway. Surely you can spare an hour or two?”
'If you need to.'
She said it in such an offhand manner that Achilleas stared at her unblinking for a moment, his expression inscrutable. How different she was, he couldn’t decide how to feel about it. Should there be relief that she would apparently be so accepting of a such a show of weakness? Or was it a difference too great that their views on such a thing should be so disparate?
‘Not completely, of course, but…’
“Of course” he echoed, a little groove carving its way between his brows. It felt like she was expecting more, but Achilleas thought their encounter had already been more telling than he would ever have chosen. Gods knows what she must be thinking. He thought he’d done a fair job pushing it from his mind for a couple of minutes but no, there it was again in all its mortifying glory.
If anything, he supposed he could be grateful for the small mercy that being probed about his feelings around his father’s death made his cock wilt. Though really the layers of discomfort had all just blurred into one indistinct mass of upset that didn't want to focus on.
He was impossibly glad that she didn't press further, and even managed a laugh when she suggested it might be his own ‘way with horses’ that resulted in the bruise she’d remarked upon. The teasing was much easier to bear than the concern that threatened to slip under his skin and crack the control he’d been so careful about maintaining.
“Amyntas likes me fine,” he said, letting her fingers wind around his own again. “Aenaeus, however, shares the same temperament as his master” Former master He corrected himself instantly in his head but it was too late to stop the words and so Achilleas paused a moment, a gust of air escaping. “ Anyway he..I don’t know what I shall do with him yet”
He hadn’t the heart to see the horse sold but he was nigh on unrideable, and Achilleas didn't want to seem like a sentimental fool keeping the creature around. He would need to find somewhere for him.
“Well, there is that” he agreed with a tight pressed smile. “And believe me, I don’t think warnings are necessary. The entire stable staff have grown acquainted with the old thing, though I am not sure they are happy about the fact”
As Theodora stood and moved away to submerge herself once more, Achilleas took advantage of the opportunity to sigh as long and loud as the occasion warranted. He rolled his shoulders, glancing at his wife as she emerged drenched from the waters and smoothed another of the oils through her hair. He was still watching her card her fingers through the long dark lengths when she put another question to him.
He felt that same guilt that he had before when she requested he spare an hour or so for her one evening. His wife should not be begging him to spare her an hour of a day. He moved to stand so he could catch her hand and hold it between both of his own. “You shouldn’t have to ask. I’m sorry. We have so little time already, consider the evening hours yours. It will work somehow...I get to make the rules now don't I?” he said. The last was a poor joke but one to smooth the awkward declaration of intent. He had to redeem himself for this disaster somehow.
“Are you finished?” he said his other hand lifting and then hesitating a moment before it smoothed her hair away from her face in one of those small affectionate gestures he had not quite gotten used to offering.
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'If you need to.'
She said it in such an offhand manner that Achilleas stared at her unblinking for a moment, his expression inscrutable. How different she was, he couldn’t decide how to feel about it. Should there be relief that she would apparently be so accepting of a such a show of weakness? Or was it a difference too great that their views on such a thing should be so disparate?
‘Not completely, of course, but…’
“Of course” he echoed, a little groove carving its way between his brows. It felt like she was expecting more, but Achilleas thought their encounter had already been more telling than he would ever have chosen. Gods knows what she must be thinking. He thought he’d done a fair job pushing it from his mind for a couple of minutes but no, there it was again in all its mortifying glory.
If anything, he supposed he could be grateful for the small mercy that being probed about his feelings around his father’s death made his cock wilt. Though really the layers of discomfort had all just blurred into one indistinct mass of upset that didn't want to focus on.
He was impossibly glad that she didn't press further, and even managed a laugh when she suggested it might be his own ‘way with horses’ that resulted in the bruise she’d remarked upon. The teasing was much easier to bear than the concern that threatened to slip under his skin and crack the control he’d been so careful about maintaining.
“Amyntas likes me fine,” he said, letting her fingers wind around his own again. “Aenaeus, however, shares the same temperament as his master” Former master He corrected himself instantly in his head but it was too late to stop the words and so Achilleas paused a moment, a gust of air escaping. “ Anyway he..I don’t know what I shall do with him yet”
He hadn’t the heart to see the horse sold but he was nigh on unrideable, and Achilleas didn't want to seem like a sentimental fool keeping the creature around. He would need to find somewhere for him.
“Well, there is that” he agreed with a tight pressed smile. “And believe me, I don’t think warnings are necessary. The entire stable staff have grown acquainted with the old thing, though I am not sure they are happy about the fact”
As Theodora stood and moved away to submerge herself once more, Achilleas took advantage of the opportunity to sigh as long and loud as the occasion warranted. He rolled his shoulders, glancing at his wife as she emerged drenched from the waters and smoothed another of the oils through her hair. He was still watching her card her fingers through the long dark lengths when she put another question to him.
He felt that same guilt that he had before when she requested he spare an hour or so for her one evening. His wife should not be begging him to spare her an hour of a day. He moved to stand so he could catch her hand and hold it between both of his own. “You shouldn’t have to ask. I’m sorry. We have so little time already, consider the evening hours yours. It will work somehow...I get to make the rules now don't I?” he said. The last was a poor joke but one to smooth the awkward declaration of intent. He had to redeem himself for this disaster somehow.
“Are you finished?” he said his other hand lifting and then hesitating a moment before it smoothed her hair away from her face in one of those small affectionate gestures he had not quite gotten used to offering.
'If you need to.'
She said it in such an offhand manner that Achilleas stared at her unblinking for a moment, his expression inscrutable. How different she was, he couldn’t decide how to feel about it. Should there be relief that she would apparently be so accepting of a such a show of weakness? Or was it a difference too great that their views on such a thing should be so disparate?
‘Not completely, of course, but…’
“Of course” he echoed, a little groove carving its way between his brows. It felt like she was expecting more, but Achilleas thought their encounter had already been more telling than he would ever have chosen. Gods knows what she must be thinking. He thought he’d done a fair job pushing it from his mind for a couple of minutes but no, there it was again in all its mortifying glory.
If anything, he supposed he could be grateful for the small mercy that being probed about his feelings around his father’s death made his cock wilt. Though really the layers of discomfort had all just blurred into one indistinct mass of upset that didn't want to focus on.
He was impossibly glad that she didn't press further, and even managed a laugh when she suggested it might be his own ‘way with horses’ that resulted in the bruise she’d remarked upon. The teasing was much easier to bear than the concern that threatened to slip under his skin and crack the control he’d been so careful about maintaining.
“Amyntas likes me fine,” he said, letting her fingers wind around his own again. “Aenaeus, however, shares the same temperament as his master” Former master He corrected himself instantly in his head but it was too late to stop the words and so Achilleas paused a moment, a gust of air escaping. “ Anyway he..I don’t know what I shall do with him yet”
He hadn’t the heart to see the horse sold but he was nigh on unrideable, and Achilleas didn't want to seem like a sentimental fool keeping the creature around. He would need to find somewhere for him.
“Well, there is that” he agreed with a tight pressed smile. “And believe me, I don’t think warnings are necessary. The entire stable staff have grown acquainted with the old thing, though I am not sure they are happy about the fact”
As Theodora stood and moved away to submerge herself once more, Achilleas took advantage of the opportunity to sigh as long and loud as the occasion warranted. He rolled his shoulders, glancing at his wife as she emerged drenched from the waters and smoothed another of the oils through her hair. He was still watching her card her fingers through the long dark lengths when she put another question to him.
He felt that same guilt that he had before when she requested he spare an hour or so for her one evening. His wife should not be begging him to spare her an hour of a day. He moved to stand so he could catch her hand and hold it between both of his own. “You shouldn’t have to ask. I’m sorry. We have so little time already, consider the evening hours yours. It will work somehow...I get to make the rules now don't I?” he said. The last was a poor joke but one to smooth the awkward declaration of intent. He had to redeem himself for this disaster somehow.
“Are you finished?” he said his other hand lifting and then hesitating a moment before it smoothed her hair away from her face in one of those small affectionate gestures he had not quite gotten used to offering.
“I could try, too,” she suggested with a shrug as Achilleas elaborated on the horse’s foul temperament. “If you don’t want to sell him. Horses are basically in my blood, you know. I’m not afraid of a few bites.” Gods knew how many times she’d sustained them throughout the years; in the early days, Callista had bitten her up so fierce that Theodora almost always had bruises on her arms and legs. It was nearly enough for Georgios to forbid her training the filly any further, but the young Leventi had always been stubborn, as stubborn as the horse she was so determined to tame. She had insisted she had it under control, and her father finally relented. Now, she and Callista shared a bond so deep that she rarely even rode another horse. She didn’t know that she could be of any help in this situation, but she’d be remiss if she didn’t even offer. Maybe she could make a difference.
Setting the oil off to the side, Theodora rinsed her hands free of it as she posed her request to Achilleas, one that had him looking back at her almost sheepishly. Standing, he took his hand between hers, apologizing again for his lack of attention. Promising his evenings to her, a slow smile grew on the Queen’s face. “You mean it?” she asked with a budding warmth in her chest. It was not something she would have asked of him, knowing how many hours he had spent occupied since their marriage began. But to have him freely offer it was a gesture she hadn’t expected, and even if things tonight hadn’t gone the way she’d hoped, she was happy for it, anyway.
I get to make the rules now don't I?
“Yes, I suppose you do,” she said with a soft laugh in return. “Good, then.” Almost shy again as the laugh faded back to a smile, she teased, “Hopefully I won’t bore you too quickly.”
His hand brushed her hair back, asking if she was finished, and she nodded. Rising from the stone bench carved in the side of the bath, she stood on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, releasing his hand so she could leave the waters behind. Stepping from the steaming bath into the relative chill of the room, goosebumps rose along her exposed flesh as she shivered. Taking up one of the nearby towels, she wrapped it around herself against the sudden coolness, drying her skin and scrunching her hair before retrieving her discarded chiton.
Dressed again, she took her husband’s arm and lightly squeezed it. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
The walk back to their chambers was quick and quiet, Theo trying not to linger on the awkwardness that had just passed and instead on what might occur in the next couple weeks. Not every night would be so uncomfortable, she was sure, and even as awkward as it had been, it could have been even worse, had she been a colder woman or Achilleas an angrier man. At least something had come of it, albeit in an unexpected way.
Once they reached their room, Theodora made for the wine decanter on a side table, pouring out a glass for each of them. Handing one off to Achilleas, she took a sip of her own. “Not a sleeping tonic, but it might still help,” she suggested, settling herself on the side of the bed. “I’m sure you can use it after such a long day, regardless.”
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“I could try, too,” she suggested with a shrug as Achilleas elaborated on the horse’s foul temperament. “If you don’t want to sell him. Horses are basically in my blood, you know. I’m not afraid of a few bites.” Gods knew how many times she’d sustained them throughout the years; in the early days, Callista had bitten her up so fierce that Theodora almost always had bruises on her arms and legs. It was nearly enough for Georgios to forbid her training the filly any further, but the young Leventi had always been stubborn, as stubborn as the horse she was so determined to tame. She had insisted she had it under control, and her father finally relented. Now, she and Callista shared a bond so deep that she rarely even rode another horse. She didn’t know that she could be of any help in this situation, but she’d be remiss if she didn’t even offer. Maybe she could make a difference.
Setting the oil off to the side, Theodora rinsed her hands free of it as she posed her request to Achilleas, one that had him looking back at her almost sheepishly. Standing, he took his hand between hers, apologizing again for his lack of attention. Promising his evenings to her, a slow smile grew on the Queen’s face. “You mean it?” she asked with a budding warmth in her chest. It was not something she would have asked of him, knowing how many hours he had spent occupied since their marriage began. But to have him freely offer it was a gesture she hadn’t expected, and even if things tonight hadn’t gone the way she’d hoped, she was happy for it, anyway.
I get to make the rules now don't I?
“Yes, I suppose you do,” she said with a soft laugh in return. “Good, then.” Almost shy again as the laugh faded back to a smile, she teased, “Hopefully I won’t bore you too quickly.”
His hand brushed her hair back, asking if she was finished, and she nodded. Rising from the stone bench carved in the side of the bath, she stood on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, releasing his hand so she could leave the waters behind. Stepping from the steaming bath into the relative chill of the room, goosebumps rose along her exposed flesh as she shivered. Taking up one of the nearby towels, she wrapped it around herself against the sudden coolness, drying her skin and scrunching her hair before retrieving her discarded chiton.
Dressed again, she took her husband’s arm and lightly squeezed it. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
The walk back to their chambers was quick and quiet, Theo trying not to linger on the awkwardness that had just passed and instead on what might occur in the next couple weeks. Not every night would be so uncomfortable, she was sure, and even as awkward as it had been, it could have been even worse, had she been a colder woman or Achilleas an angrier man. At least something had come of it, albeit in an unexpected way.
Once they reached their room, Theodora made for the wine decanter on a side table, pouring out a glass for each of them. Handing one off to Achilleas, she took a sip of her own. “Not a sleeping tonic, but it might still help,” she suggested, settling herself on the side of the bed. “I’m sure you can use it after such a long day, regardless.”
“I could try, too,” she suggested with a shrug as Achilleas elaborated on the horse’s foul temperament. “If you don’t want to sell him. Horses are basically in my blood, you know. I’m not afraid of a few bites.” Gods knew how many times she’d sustained them throughout the years; in the early days, Callista had bitten her up so fierce that Theodora almost always had bruises on her arms and legs. It was nearly enough for Georgios to forbid her training the filly any further, but the young Leventi had always been stubborn, as stubborn as the horse she was so determined to tame. She had insisted she had it under control, and her father finally relented. Now, she and Callista shared a bond so deep that she rarely even rode another horse. She didn’t know that she could be of any help in this situation, but she’d be remiss if she didn’t even offer. Maybe she could make a difference.
Setting the oil off to the side, Theodora rinsed her hands free of it as she posed her request to Achilleas, one that had him looking back at her almost sheepishly. Standing, he took his hand between hers, apologizing again for his lack of attention. Promising his evenings to her, a slow smile grew on the Queen’s face. “You mean it?” she asked with a budding warmth in her chest. It was not something she would have asked of him, knowing how many hours he had spent occupied since their marriage began. But to have him freely offer it was a gesture she hadn’t expected, and even if things tonight hadn’t gone the way she’d hoped, she was happy for it, anyway.
I get to make the rules now don't I?
“Yes, I suppose you do,” she said with a soft laugh in return. “Good, then.” Almost shy again as the laugh faded back to a smile, she teased, “Hopefully I won’t bore you too quickly.”
His hand brushed her hair back, asking if she was finished, and she nodded. Rising from the stone bench carved in the side of the bath, she stood on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, releasing his hand so she could leave the waters behind. Stepping from the steaming bath into the relative chill of the room, goosebumps rose along her exposed flesh as she shivered. Taking up one of the nearby towels, she wrapped it around herself against the sudden coolness, drying her skin and scrunching her hair before retrieving her discarded chiton.
Dressed again, she took her husband’s arm and lightly squeezed it. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
The walk back to their chambers was quick and quiet, Theo trying not to linger on the awkwardness that had just passed and instead on what might occur in the next couple weeks. Not every night would be so uncomfortable, she was sure, and even as awkward as it had been, it could have been even worse, had she been a colder woman or Achilleas an angrier man. At least something had come of it, albeit in an unexpected way.
Once they reached their room, Theodora made for the wine decanter on a side table, pouring out a glass for each of them. Handing one off to Achilleas, she took a sip of her own. “Not a sleeping tonic, but it might still help,” she suggested, settling herself on the side of the bed. “I’m sure you can use it after such a long day, regardless.”
Achilleas looked summarily unimpressed at Theodora’s offer to help. Whilst he could appreciate the sentiment, he was not so cavalier about the idea of her putting herself in harm's way. “Absolutely not. You might not mind a few bites but I am rather partial to my wife remaining in one piece” He shook his head a little “ I’ll think of something”
What that something would be he wasn’t sure, but if he was honest with himself Achilleas could admit to having some personal investment in the old horse. He didn’t dwell on too much but even when the creature was being irascible and taking chunks out of him that sense of connection to his father was there. Ever since he’d flown of the handle when he’d been told the man’s office at the Palati had been cleared, there had been more awareness of how easily these things would slip away if he wasn’t careful. Achilleas was far from ready to confront his father’s possessions in their entirety but Aenaeus was different somehow. An old soldier, as his father had been.
Theodora’s obvious pleasure in his promise to free some hours for her both warmed and stung him in equal measure. He was heartened that she had not taken too much to heart the catastrophe that had been their earlier endeavours, but also reminded how unfair he had been to make her feel grateful for his time. It would not do.
“ I mean it” he pledged, drawing her hand to rest against his chest. And then as she went on, his expression clouded a little, his gaze troubled and there wasthe slightest hesitation before he answered. “You have never bores me, Theodora, though I think perhaps the opposite has not always been true”
There was nothing in his words to suggest them other than an observation, though it had been a thing to cross his mind when he couldn’t decipher her mood or her feelings towards him. They seemed to talk at cross purposes sometimes, and Achilleas had hoped that once they were wed things would settle and become easier. Things has not settled, and nothing was easy, but he could appreciate the fact that she was here by his side anyway.
Back in their private quarters, the king had hovered a moment, unsure if he was truly ready for sleep so that when Theo offered wine he accepted readily, despite usually not being a big drinker. He had certainly come to appreciate the slight dulling effects a cup of wine could offer more recently though.
With his hair wet atop his head and threatening to dry into an impossibly curly mess Achilleas raked his fingers through it a few times as his wife poured the wine, before accepting it from her and after a quick recce on where he might sit, he lowered himself to sit beside her, staring down into the cup. With his hair disheveled and the silk of his chiton clinging and crumpling to where his skin was still damp, he looked tired still but also without the veneer of formality that he so often adopted. Less polished, but perhaps gentled a little with it. And when he took a sip and then turned to Theodora he saw the same in her. Different, and it reminded him that this was something to grow used to too. Man and wife, there would be fewer boundaries, more honesty?
“ I’m sorry about before” he found himself saying, not wanting to bring it up again but wanting to thank her for her care in coming to find him even if it had not gone quite to plan. “ I’m glad you looked for me even if...that didn’t, you know? I’m just…glad you are here” he finished, before clearing his throat and taking an over large sip of wine because he was never good at finding the right words to articulate anything sentimental.
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Achilleas looked summarily unimpressed at Theodora’s offer to help. Whilst he could appreciate the sentiment, he was not so cavalier about the idea of her putting herself in harm's way. “Absolutely not. You might not mind a few bites but I am rather partial to my wife remaining in one piece” He shook his head a little “ I’ll think of something”
What that something would be he wasn’t sure, but if he was honest with himself Achilleas could admit to having some personal investment in the old horse. He didn’t dwell on too much but even when the creature was being irascible and taking chunks out of him that sense of connection to his father was there. Ever since he’d flown of the handle when he’d been told the man’s office at the Palati had been cleared, there had been more awareness of how easily these things would slip away if he wasn’t careful. Achilleas was far from ready to confront his father’s possessions in their entirety but Aenaeus was different somehow. An old soldier, as his father had been.
Theodora’s obvious pleasure in his promise to free some hours for her both warmed and stung him in equal measure. He was heartened that she had not taken too much to heart the catastrophe that had been their earlier endeavours, but also reminded how unfair he had been to make her feel grateful for his time. It would not do.
“ I mean it” he pledged, drawing her hand to rest against his chest. And then as she went on, his expression clouded a little, his gaze troubled and there wasthe slightest hesitation before he answered. “You have never bores me, Theodora, though I think perhaps the opposite has not always been true”
There was nothing in his words to suggest them other than an observation, though it had been a thing to cross his mind when he couldn’t decipher her mood or her feelings towards him. They seemed to talk at cross purposes sometimes, and Achilleas had hoped that once they were wed things would settle and become easier. Things has not settled, and nothing was easy, but he could appreciate the fact that she was here by his side anyway.
Back in their private quarters, the king had hovered a moment, unsure if he was truly ready for sleep so that when Theo offered wine he accepted readily, despite usually not being a big drinker. He had certainly come to appreciate the slight dulling effects a cup of wine could offer more recently though.
With his hair wet atop his head and threatening to dry into an impossibly curly mess Achilleas raked his fingers through it a few times as his wife poured the wine, before accepting it from her and after a quick recce on where he might sit, he lowered himself to sit beside her, staring down into the cup. With his hair disheveled and the silk of his chiton clinging and crumpling to where his skin was still damp, he looked tired still but also without the veneer of formality that he so often adopted. Less polished, but perhaps gentled a little with it. And when he took a sip and then turned to Theodora he saw the same in her. Different, and it reminded him that this was something to grow used to too. Man and wife, there would be fewer boundaries, more honesty?
“ I’m sorry about before” he found himself saying, not wanting to bring it up again but wanting to thank her for her care in coming to find him even if it had not gone quite to plan. “ I’m glad you looked for me even if...that didn’t, you know? I’m just…glad you are here” he finished, before clearing his throat and taking an over large sip of wine because he was never good at finding the right words to articulate anything sentimental.
Achilleas looked summarily unimpressed at Theodora’s offer to help. Whilst he could appreciate the sentiment, he was not so cavalier about the idea of her putting herself in harm's way. “Absolutely not. You might not mind a few bites but I am rather partial to my wife remaining in one piece” He shook his head a little “ I’ll think of something”
What that something would be he wasn’t sure, but if he was honest with himself Achilleas could admit to having some personal investment in the old horse. He didn’t dwell on too much but even when the creature was being irascible and taking chunks out of him that sense of connection to his father was there. Ever since he’d flown of the handle when he’d been told the man’s office at the Palati had been cleared, there had been more awareness of how easily these things would slip away if he wasn’t careful. Achilleas was far from ready to confront his father’s possessions in their entirety but Aenaeus was different somehow. An old soldier, as his father had been.
Theodora’s obvious pleasure in his promise to free some hours for her both warmed and stung him in equal measure. He was heartened that she had not taken too much to heart the catastrophe that had been their earlier endeavours, but also reminded how unfair he had been to make her feel grateful for his time. It would not do.
“ I mean it” he pledged, drawing her hand to rest against his chest. And then as she went on, his expression clouded a little, his gaze troubled and there wasthe slightest hesitation before he answered. “You have never bores me, Theodora, though I think perhaps the opposite has not always been true”
There was nothing in his words to suggest them other than an observation, though it had been a thing to cross his mind when he couldn’t decipher her mood or her feelings towards him. They seemed to talk at cross purposes sometimes, and Achilleas had hoped that once they were wed things would settle and become easier. Things has not settled, and nothing was easy, but he could appreciate the fact that she was here by his side anyway.
Back in their private quarters, the king had hovered a moment, unsure if he was truly ready for sleep so that when Theo offered wine he accepted readily, despite usually not being a big drinker. He had certainly come to appreciate the slight dulling effects a cup of wine could offer more recently though.
With his hair wet atop his head and threatening to dry into an impossibly curly mess Achilleas raked his fingers through it a few times as his wife poured the wine, before accepting it from her and after a quick recce on where he might sit, he lowered himself to sit beside her, staring down into the cup. With his hair disheveled and the silk of his chiton clinging and crumpling to where his skin was still damp, he looked tired still but also without the veneer of formality that he so often adopted. Less polished, but perhaps gentled a little with it. And when he took a sip and then turned to Theodora he saw the same in her. Different, and it reminded him that this was something to grow used to too. Man and wife, there would be fewer boundaries, more honesty?
“ I’m sorry about before” he found himself saying, not wanting to bring it up again but wanting to thank her for her care in coming to find him even if it had not gone quite to plan. “ I’m glad you looked for me even if...that didn’t, you know? I’m just…glad you are here” he finished, before clearing his throat and taking an over large sip of wine because he was never good at finding the right words to articulate anything sentimental.
You might not mind a few bites, but I am rather partial to my wife remaining in one piece.
Theodora laughed at that, shaking her head. “He can’t be that bad, surely? You’re still in one piece, aren’t you?” She thought about arguing her point, that she stood a better chance of getting through to the beast, but of course, she didn’t really know that. The horse didn’t know her, no matter the tricks and techniques she’d picked up over the years, and there were plenty of animals that would bond to their owner and no one else. If the stallion knew Achilleas and wouldn’t stand for him, why should Theo be any different? Regardless, Achilleas would not be in Taengea much longer. Perhaps she would approach the horse once he was gone and couldn’t stop her, then surprise him with a more docile mount on his return. It was a good thought, right? Unless the animal truly was as vicious as Achilleas claimed and he maimed her in the process… ah well, she would cross that bridge when she came to it.
Plus, there was a bristle running along her spine that he should order her to stay away. Though, she supposed, he had the right to do that now. Even if she was Queen, he was King, and her husband. She was under his charge, just as she had been under her father’s charge before, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed it. She’d rather be under her own charge, but she supposed there had to be a balance found. Tonight, though, was perhaps not the best night to take a stand on that. The awkwardness of their encounter didn’t need to be compounded. And with everything else going on… there was a time to pick her battles.
Instead, she shifted her focus to his promise that his evenings would be hers. Hand warm where it pressed to his chest, her smile wavered a little at the next thing he said, responding to her jest with an observation she wasn’t sure how to respond to. It wasn’t quite untrue; in her younger years, especially, Achilleas had vexed and confounded her. While she had always appreciated his physical beauty in the way one might enjoy a particularly masterful painting, their personalities had clashed on multiple occasions. Where she was prone to mischief, he was so rigid, and even if ‘boring’ wasn’t quite the right word, it hadn’t served to endear him to her, either.
But she had been young; they both had. Unable to see past her own perceptions, she had never spared a thought as to why he behaved that way. Now that she was older and had at least a little more insight into what shaped him, perhaps she had been a bit of a brat in some of their previous encounters. Even if she’d believed he deserved it at the time (and there were still times she believed he did deserve it), maybe she had been too quick to rush to judgment.
Now, she said nothing, instead thinking about it as they walked back to their room.
When they sat next to each other, sipping their wine, her mind still mulled over it as she turned at his apology. A half smile quirked her lips, free hand reaching out to gently squeeze his knee. “It’s okay, I promise,” she assured him again, listening to him stumble uncomfortably over his words. Her smile deepened a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad I came to find you too, even if things didn’t go as expected.” Tentatively, her head rested on his shoulder, taking another swallow from the glass she clutched in restless fingers. “I want to be here for you, especially in… a time like this.”
“You don’t bore me either, you know,” she said after a moment of silence, unable to let go of what may have just been an offhand comment on his part. Her face turned just enough to glance at him without leaving its perch on his shoulder. “I just… I didn’t understand you, that’s all. But I’m trying to now. I want to know you better.”
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You might not mind a few bites, but I am rather partial to my wife remaining in one piece.
Theodora laughed at that, shaking her head. “He can’t be that bad, surely? You’re still in one piece, aren’t you?” She thought about arguing her point, that she stood a better chance of getting through to the beast, but of course, she didn’t really know that. The horse didn’t know her, no matter the tricks and techniques she’d picked up over the years, and there were plenty of animals that would bond to their owner and no one else. If the stallion knew Achilleas and wouldn’t stand for him, why should Theo be any different? Regardless, Achilleas would not be in Taengea much longer. Perhaps she would approach the horse once he was gone and couldn’t stop her, then surprise him with a more docile mount on his return. It was a good thought, right? Unless the animal truly was as vicious as Achilleas claimed and he maimed her in the process… ah well, she would cross that bridge when she came to it.
Plus, there was a bristle running along her spine that he should order her to stay away. Though, she supposed, he had the right to do that now. Even if she was Queen, he was King, and her husband. She was under his charge, just as she had been under her father’s charge before, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed it. She’d rather be under her own charge, but she supposed there had to be a balance found. Tonight, though, was perhaps not the best night to take a stand on that. The awkwardness of their encounter didn’t need to be compounded. And with everything else going on… there was a time to pick her battles.
Instead, she shifted her focus to his promise that his evenings would be hers. Hand warm where it pressed to his chest, her smile wavered a little at the next thing he said, responding to her jest with an observation she wasn’t sure how to respond to. It wasn’t quite untrue; in her younger years, especially, Achilleas had vexed and confounded her. While she had always appreciated his physical beauty in the way one might enjoy a particularly masterful painting, their personalities had clashed on multiple occasions. Where she was prone to mischief, he was so rigid, and even if ‘boring’ wasn’t quite the right word, it hadn’t served to endear him to her, either.
But she had been young; they both had. Unable to see past her own perceptions, she had never spared a thought as to why he behaved that way. Now that she was older and had at least a little more insight into what shaped him, perhaps she had been a bit of a brat in some of their previous encounters. Even if she’d believed he deserved it at the time (and there were still times she believed he did deserve it), maybe she had been too quick to rush to judgment.
Now, she said nothing, instead thinking about it as they walked back to their room.
When they sat next to each other, sipping their wine, her mind still mulled over it as she turned at his apology. A half smile quirked her lips, free hand reaching out to gently squeeze his knee. “It’s okay, I promise,” she assured him again, listening to him stumble uncomfortably over his words. Her smile deepened a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad I came to find you too, even if things didn’t go as expected.” Tentatively, her head rested on his shoulder, taking another swallow from the glass she clutched in restless fingers. “I want to be here for you, especially in… a time like this.”
“You don’t bore me either, you know,” she said after a moment of silence, unable to let go of what may have just been an offhand comment on his part. Her face turned just enough to glance at him without leaving its perch on his shoulder. “I just… I didn’t understand you, that’s all. But I’m trying to now. I want to know you better.”
You might not mind a few bites, but I am rather partial to my wife remaining in one piece.
Theodora laughed at that, shaking her head. “He can’t be that bad, surely? You’re still in one piece, aren’t you?” She thought about arguing her point, that she stood a better chance of getting through to the beast, but of course, she didn’t really know that. The horse didn’t know her, no matter the tricks and techniques she’d picked up over the years, and there were plenty of animals that would bond to their owner and no one else. If the stallion knew Achilleas and wouldn’t stand for him, why should Theo be any different? Regardless, Achilleas would not be in Taengea much longer. Perhaps she would approach the horse once he was gone and couldn’t stop her, then surprise him with a more docile mount on his return. It was a good thought, right? Unless the animal truly was as vicious as Achilleas claimed and he maimed her in the process… ah well, she would cross that bridge when she came to it.
Plus, there was a bristle running along her spine that he should order her to stay away. Though, she supposed, he had the right to do that now. Even if she was Queen, he was King, and her husband. She was under his charge, just as she had been under her father’s charge before, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed it. She’d rather be under her own charge, but she supposed there had to be a balance found. Tonight, though, was perhaps not the best night to take a stand on that. The awkwardness of their encounter didn’t need to be compounded. And with everything else going on… there was a time to pick her battles.
Instead, she shifted her focus to his promise that his evenings would be hers. Hand warm where it pressed to his chest, her smile wavered a little at the next thing he said, responding to her jest with an observation she wasn’t sure how to respond to. It wasn’t quite untrue; in her younger years, especially, Achilleas had vexed and confounded her. While she had always appreciated his physical beauty in the way one might enjoy a particularly masterful painting, their personalities had clashed on multiple occasions. Where she was prone to mischief, he was so rigid, and even if ‘boring’ wasn’t quite the right word, it hadn’t served to endear him to her, either.
But she had been young; they both had. Unable to see past her own perceptions, she had never spared a thought as to why he behaved that way. Now that she was older and had at least a little more insight into what shaped him, perhaps she had been a bit of a brat in some of their previous encounters. Even if she’d believed he deserved it at the time (and there were still times she believed he did deserve it), maybe she had been too quick to rush to judgment.
Now, she said nothing, instead thinking about it as they walked back to their room.
When they sat next to each other, sipping their wine, her mind still mulled over it as she turned at his apology. A half smile quirked her lips, free hand reaching out to gently squeeze his knee. “It’s okay, I promise,” she assured him again, listening to him stumble uncomfortably over his words. Her smile deepened a little, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad I came to find you too, even if things didn’t go as expected.” Tentatively, her head rested on his shoulder, taking another swallow from the glass she clutched in restless fingers. “I want to be here for you, especially in… a time like this.”
“You don’t bore me either, you know,” she said after a moment of silence, unable to let go of what may have just been an offhand comment on his part. Her face turned just enough to glance at him without leaving its perch on his shoulder. “I just… I didn’t understand you, that’s all. But I’m trying to now. I want to know you better.”