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Stolen moments together were the best that Alastor could ask for. Though he'd been back in Taengea for a good while, and he'd admitted his feelings for Sara, there were large gaps where they simply could not see one another. Mutual in how they saw one another... it was difficult to say just how things could move forward. Then, her father died. Then she, her sister and her mother were banished from the archontiko they'd made their home. Then, she'd sent that letter on a meager scrap of paper, the script off-looking.
Alastor's heart sank like a stone when he'd read it, sympathetic for the girl's plights. He understood the loyalty to family, but couldn't come to terms with how everything had fallen apart so quickly. The Mikaelidas family had tolerated them for so long because of Irakles, and now they were just tossed aside like the very scrap of paper she'd written the letter on. He had to see her, and while he'd given her some time to let the moment's grief pass by and for the affairs of the moment to simmer away...
He craved her company more than anything else.
So, Alastor wrote to her. Rather than delivering the letter through a courier, he tracked her down and lobbed the letter towards a dancing shadow that had to be hers. He saw her visage, and had spent enough time to determine that her sister was not present. With only Meena to contend with, he'd taken his chance and it'd worked out.
But, the circumstances were never right for them to actually meet. It felt like ages passed when it'd only been a couple weeks at most. His heart ached but then... opportunity presented itself again. Once King Achilleas took his detachment to Egypt, capitalizing on information that his mentor had conjured from... well, he couldn't quite figure that out... it seemed that everything might've taken a turn for the better. Alastor was taught to take the crumbling of the monarchy as an inevitability. He didn't mourn for kings and princes he didn't know, but worked arduously to ensure that the information that came through the Master Informer was properly recorded.
Make yourself invisible. Remain unassuming and let the world think of you what they will.
The advice was sound, and remaining relatively anonymous worked to his favour. It allowed him the sort of low profile to go missing like this. He had Sara on his arm, the sort of embarrassment of their previous encounters seemed to have whittled away. And so, as he looked at her under the glow of moonlight, the world seemed to fall away and there was just her. They walked, they talked, and the taste of wine mingled with the sensation of her lips on his own. He'd give her more, if he could. But, they were testing the limits of their secret as it was. So, he escorted her back to the palati.
Moving through the courtyard, Alastor was dressed in a plain chiton, tied at the waist by a belt and fixed to his shoulders with a fibulae made of bone. The garb, from what he understood, would associate him with being a servant. It was the perfect sort of cover for the moment, a way for him to simply slip away when he was on his way out. But, before he left... he wanted to steal away just a little while longer with her. They snuck through the palati, Alastor just slightly behind Sara as they moved.
Then, they arrived near her quarters, and he decided to go for it. He looked in every which way, catching sight of nobody and leaned forward. He took a kiss from Sara, bringing a hand to the small of her back as he leaned into her. A long, beseeching kiss, intent on leaving an impression upon the girl. He didn't know when he'd be able to sneak off with her again, and, perhaps, in his fervor, it'd taken far too long. He pulled away from her, only to catch a sight in his periphery that hadn't been there a moment earlier...
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Stolen moments together were the best that Alastor could ask for. Though he'd been back in Taengea for a good while, and he'd admitted his feelings for Sara, there were large gaps where they simply could not see one another. Mutual in how they saw one another... it was difficult to say just how things could move forward. Then, her father died. Then she, her sister and her mother were banished from the archontiko they'd made their home. Then, she'd sent that letter on a meager scrap of paper, the script off-looking.
Alastor's heart sank like a stone when he'd read it, sympathetic for the girl's plights. He understood the loyalty to family, but couldn't come to terms with how everything had fallen apart so quickly. The Mikaelidas family had tolerated them for so long because of Irakles, and now they were just tossed aside like the very scrap of paper she'd written the letter on. He had to see her, and while he'd given her some time to let the moment's grief pass by and for the affairs of the moment to simmer away...
He craved her company more than anything else.
So, Alastor wrote to her. Rather than delivering the letter through a courier, he tracked her down and lobbed the letter towards a dancing shadow that had to be hers. He saw her visage, and had spent enough time to determine that her sister was not present. With only Meena to contend with, he'd taken his chance and it'd worked out.
But, the circumstances were never right for them to actually meet. It felt like ages passed when it'd only been a couple weeks at most. His heart ached but then... opportunity presented itself again. Once King Achilleas took his detachment to Egypt, capitalizing on information that his mentor had conjured from... well, he couldn't quite figure that out... it seemed that everything might've taken a turn for the better. Alastor was taught to take the crumbling of the monarchy as an inevitability. He didn't mourn for kings and princes he didn't know, but worked arduously to ensure that the information that came through the Master Informer was properly recorded.
Make yourself invisible. Remain unassuming and let the world think of you what they will.
The advice was sound, and remaining relatively anonymous worked to his favour. It allowed him the sort of low profile to go missing like this. He had Sara on his arm, the sort of embarrassment of their previous encounters seemed to have whittled away. And so, as he looked at her under the glow of moonlight, the world seemed to fall away and there was just her. They walked, they talked, and the taste of wine mingled with the sensation of her lips on his own. He'd give her more, if he could. But, they were testing the limits of their secret as it was. So, he escorted her back to the palati.
Moving through the courtyard, Alastor was dressed in a plain chiton, tied at the waist by a belt and fixed to his shoulders with a fibulae made of bone. The garb, from what he understood, would associate him with being a servant. It was the perfect sort of cover for the moment, a way for him to simply slip away when he was on his way out. But, before he left... he wanted to steal away just a little while longer with her. They snuck through the palati, Alastor just slightly behind Sara as they moved.
Then, they arrived near her quarters, and he decided to go for it. He looked in every which way, catching sight of nobody and leaned forward. He took a kiss from Sara, bringing a hand to the small of her back as he leaned into her. A long, beseeching kiss, intent on leaving an impression upon the girl. He didn't know when he'd be able to sneak off with her again, and, perhaps, in his fervor, it'd taken far too long. He pulled away from her, only to catch a sight in his periphery that hadn't been there a moment earlier...
Stolen moments together were the best that Alastor could ask for. Though he'd been back in Taengea for a good while, and he'd admitted his feelings for Sara, there were large gaps where they simply could not see one another. Mutual in how they saw one another... it was difficult to say just how things could move forward. Then, her father died. Then she, her sister and her mother were banished from the archontiko they'd made their home. Then, she'd sent that letter on a meager scrap of paper, the script off-looking.
Alastor's heart sank like a stone when he'd read it, sympathetic for the girl's plights. He understood the loyalty to family, but couldn't come to terms with how everything had fallen apart so quickly. The Mikaelidas family had tolerated them for so long because of Irakles, and now they were just tossed aside like the very scrap of paper she'd written the letter on. He had to see her, and while he'd given her some time to let the moment's grief pass by and for the affairs of the moment to simmer away...
He craved her company more than anything else.
So, Alastor wrote to her. Rather than delivering the letter through a courier, he tracked her down and lobbed the letter towards a dancing shadow that had to be hers. He saw her visage, and had spent enough time to determine that her sister was not present. With only Meena to contend with, he'd taken his chance and it'd worked out.
But, the circumstances were never right for them to actually meet. It felt like ages passed when it'd only been a couple weeks at most. His heart ached but then... opportunity presented itself again. Once King Achilleas took his detachment to Egypt, capitalizing on information that his mentor had conjured from... well, he couldn't quite figure that out... it seemed that everything might've taken a turn for the better. Alastor was taught to take the crumbling of the monarchy as an inevitability. He didn't mourn for kings and princes he didn't know, but worked arduously to ensure that the information that came through the Master Informer was properly recorded.
Make yourself invisible. Remain unassuming and let the world think of you what they will.
The advice was sound, and remaining relatively anonymous worked to his favour. It allowed him the sort of low profile to go missing like this. He had Sara on his arm, the sort of embarrassment of their previous encounters seemed to have whittled away. And so, as he looked at her under the glow of moonlight, the world seemed to fall away and there was just her. They walked, they talked, and the taste of wine mingled with the sensation of her lips on his own. He'd give her more, if he could. But, they were testing the limits of their secret as it was. So, he escorted her back to the palati.
Moving through the courtyard, Alastor was dressed in a plain chiton, tied at the waist by a belt and fixed to his shoulders with a fibulae made of bone. The garb, from what he understood, would associate him with being a servant. It was the perfect sort of cover for the moment, a way for him to simply slip away when he was on his way out. But, before he left... he wanted to steal away just a little while longer with her. They snuck through the palati, Alastor just slightly behind Sara as they moved.
Then, they arrived near her quarters, and he decided to go for it. He looked in every which way, catching sight of nobody and leaned forward. He took a kiss from Sara, bringing a hand to the small of her back as he leaned into her. A long, beseeching kiss, intent on leaving an impression upon the girl. He didn't know when he'd be able to sneak off with her again, and, perhaps, in his fervor, it'd taken far too long. He pulled away from her, only to catch a sight in his periphery that hadn't been there a moment earlier...
The chance to see Alastor again had been one of the reasons that she had decided to take Emilios up on his offer to visit the palati. It was also one of the reasons that she was considering asking to stay, even as her time here was surely drawing to a close. Meena had become downright overbearing after they had been forced to leave the archontikos and move into a home further out in the city. At first, Sara had thought that little would be changing but after Tasia had announced her intent to depart the house -- Meena had practically locked the younger daughter up to keep her from doing the same.
She had not been able to see him at all. Perhaps if she had not been through some of the worst days of her life, it might have been more devastating to not be permitted out of the grounds in order to see him. Granted, it was still difficult. She could have used a familiar shoulder to cry on.
When she had seen his first letter flutter over the wall, she had been elated and soon enough there was a place that the letters were tucked between the stones and she would eagerly await one as well as push her own through. It felt as though they had gone back to the times of him being away in Athenia, with nothing but letters to hold them together.
She had insisted that they keep their distance a little longer once she had arrived at the palati if only because she was not sure how secretive they could be there. Traveling to Euttica without Achilleas’ presence there was too strange not to draw attention and the palace had far more guards than the archontikos had. People were paying attention to her, if only because her presence was curiosity. She had enjoyed being here though, had enjoyed spending time with her brother and the Queen.
Now she just needed time with Alastor to make it all the sweeter.
That time had come and gone. She had embraced him fiercely upon meeting again-- until he’d complained of not being able to breathe. It was only then that she had let him go, forced to laugh quietly so as not to draw notice. He had looked a little strange, dressed like a servant of the house, but it was a clever enough disguise. No one would question them together, so long as she did not give them away by touching him too much.
The moonlight had been perfect, the cover of darkness giving them plenty of places to hide together without much notice. It had been a ripe opportunity for talking, sips of wine and of course...a little kissing. There was so much to say, and the normalcy of it all had eased the icy burning that had settled into her soul for a time.
When it had come time for things to draw to an end, she had expected him to let her go without him but he had escorted her all the way back to her rooms. It was well enough, she had wanted him to know where they were after all. He trailed just a few steps behind her as would have been proper for a servant, and Sara felt her skin prickling as she scanned the hallways for anyone who might be watching. They had done so well, and she felt very confident about future meetings if they could all go as this one had.
She stopped in the shadow of her doorway and turned back to thank him for walking her back to her room, wishing that she could invite him in. Too dangerous, and quite improper, but it did not keep her from wishing it all the same. Her gaze cut to the side but then Alastor was there, his lips pressing fervently to hers in a move that seemed to have stolen the breath right from her lungs. Her hands froze, shocked to stillness, not reaching for him although if she were given just a moment she was sure she would have. His hand pressed against the small of her back, and she took a shuffling step forward so that he could wrap her into his arms if he wanted.
She made a small noise of surprise, having thought that all of their kissing was done for the evening. She was a little worried about being seen, but in that split second he’d wiped it all away.
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The chance to see Alastor again had been one of the reasons that she had decided to take Emilios up on his offer to visit the palati. It was also one of the reasons that she was considering asking to stay, even as her time here was surely drawing to a close. Meena had become downright overbearing after they had been forced to leave the archontikos and move into a home further out in the city. At first, Sara had thought that little would be changing but after Tasia had announced her intent to depart the house -- Meena had practically locked the younger daughter up to keep her from doing the same.
She had not been able to see him at all. Perhaps if she had not been through some of the worst days of her life, it might have been more devastating to not be permitted out of the grounds in order to see him. Granted, it was still difficult. She could have used a familiar shoulder to cry on.
When she had seen his first letter flutter over the wall, she had been elated and soon enough there was a place that the letters were tucked between the stones and she would eagerly await one as well as push her own through. It felt as though they had gone back to the times of him being away in Athenia, with nothing but letters to hold them together.
She had insisted that they keep their distance a little longer once she had arrived at the palati if only because she was not sure how secretive they could be there. Traveling to Euttica without Achilleas’ presence there was too strange not to draw attention and the palace had far more guards than the archontikos had. People were paying attention to her, if only because her presence was curiosity. She had enjoyed being here though, had enjoyed spending time with her brother and the Queen.
Now she just needed time with Alastor to make it all the sweeter.
That time had come and gone. She had embraced him fiercely upon meeting again-- until he’d complained of not being able to breathe. It was only then that she had let him go, forced to laugh quietly so as not to draw notice. He had looked a little strange, dressed like a servant of the house, but it was a clever enough disguise. No one would question them together, so long as she did not give them away by touching him too much.
The moonlight had been perfect, the cover of darkness giving them plenty of places to hide together without much notice. It had been a ripe opportunity for talking, sips of wine and of course...a little kissing. There was so much to say, and the normalcy of it all had eased the icy burning that had settled into her soul for a time.
When it had come time for things to draw to an end, she had expected him to let her go without him but he had escorted her all the way back to her rooms. It was well enough, she had wanted him to know where they were after all. He trailed just a few steps behind her as would have been proper for a servant, and Sara felt her skin prickling as she scanned the hallways for anyone who might be watching. They had done so well, and she felt very confident about future meetings if they could all go as this one had.
She stopped in the shadow of her doorway and turned back to thank him for walking her back to her room, wishing that she could invite him in. Too dangerous, and quite improper, but it did not keep her from wishing it all the same. Her gaze cut to the side but then Alastor was there, his lips pressing fervently to hers in a move that seemed to have stolen the breath right from her lungs. Her hands froze, shocked to stillness, not reaching for him although if she were given just a moment she was sure she would have. His hand pressed against the small of her back, and she took a shuffling step forward so that he could wrap her into his arms if he wanted.
She made a small noise of surprise, having thought that all of their kissing was done for the evening. She was a little worried about being seen, but in that split second he’d wiped it all away.
The chance to see Alastor again had been one of the reasons that she had decided to take Emilios up on his offer to visit the palati. It was also one of the reasons that she was considering asking to stay, even as her time here was surely drawing to a close. Meena had become downright overbearing after they had been forced to leave the archontikos and move into a home further out in the city. At first, Sara had thought that little would be changing but after Tasia had announced her intent to depart the house -- Meena had practically locked the younger daughter up to keep her from doing the same.
She had not been able to see him at all. Perhaps if she had not been through some of the worst days of her life, it might have been more devastating to not be permitted out of the grounds in order to see him. Granted, it was still difficult. She could have used a familiar shoulder to cry on.
When she had seen his first letter flutter over the wall, she had been elated and soon enough there was a place that the letters were tucked between the stones and she would eagerly await one as well as push her own through. It felt as though they had gone back to the times of him being away in Athenia, with nothing but letters to hold them together.
She had insisted that they keep their distance a little longer once she had arrived at the palati if only because she was not sure how secretive they could be there. Traveling to Euttica without Achilleas’ presence there was too strange not to draw attention and the palace had far more guards than the archontikos had. People were paying attention to her, if only because her presence was curiosity. She had enjoyed being here though, had enjoyed spending time with her brother and the Queen.
Now she just needed time with Alastor to make it all the sweeter.
That time had come and gone. She had embraced him fiercely upon meeting again-- until he’d complained of not being able to breathe. It was only then that she had let him go, forced to laugh quietly so as not to draw notice. He had looked a little strange, dressed like a servant of the house, but it was a clever enough disguise. No one would question them together, so long as she did not give them away by touching him too much.
The moonlight had been perfect, the cover of darkness giving them plenty of places to hide together without much notice. It had been a ripe opportunity for talking, sips of wine and of course...a little kissing. There was so much to say, and the normalcy of it all had eased the icy burning that had settled into her soul for a time.
When it had come time for things to draw to an end, she had expected him to let her go without him but he had escorted her all the way back to her rooms. It was well enough, she had wanted him to know where they were after all. He trailed just a few steps behind her as would have been proper for a servant, and Sara felt her skin prickling as she scanned the hallways for anyone who might be watching. They had done so well, and she felt very confident about future meetings if they could all go as this one had.
She stopped in the shadow of her doorway and turned back to thank him for walking her back to her room, wishing that she could invite him in. Too dangerous, and quite improper, but it did not keep her from wishing it all the same. Her gaze cut to the side but then Alastor was there, his lips pressing fervently to hers in a move that seemed to have stolen the breath right from her lungs. Her hands froze, shocked to stillness, not reaching for him although if she were given just a moment she was sure she would have. His hand pressed against the small of her back, and she took a shuffling step forward so that he could wrap her into his arms if he wanted.
She made a small noise of surprise, having thought that all of their kissing was done for the evening. She was a little worried about being seen, but in that split second he’d wiped it all away.
To say he was frustrated was an understatement.
Horse settled into the stables, he’d left Theo to herself, knowing that escorting her back to her rooms would just be asking for more trouble than he was willing to deal with. The emotions that he tried to quiet, the ones that he didn’t wish to force upon her, had reared their head and made it known. And what made it all the worse was that she felt the same.
And they both felt as if they could do nothing about it.
Regardless of how deeply they felt for each other, of how real and right it felt to be together, they both had their own reasons centered around one man -- Achilleas. As his brother, as sick as he was of losing to the man, he was still family. They were still close, and he didn’t wish to lose that bond of trust to his own selfish desires. And for her, perhaps it was simply the vows that were made, or maybe she was falling for him, too. But neither wanted to hurt him, so both would suffer alone.
It was bittersweet and painful.
And he was angry.
Angry that the Gods found this all amusing. Angry that he couldn’t just find happiness for once in his life. The past year had been spent in a bliss he’d never expected to know, with a love he hadn’t expected to find. And now, it was just a memory. There would be no building upon it, no family of their own to tell the stories to. He almost wished that he’d never sought her out after that day.
At least then his heart would have been whole.
It was late, the halls expected to be mostly empty at this time of night. And while he hadn’t found himself escorting Theo, he was still in the family wing of the palati. So it was strange to hear voices, to see shadows in this part of the house. While he was unarmed, save for the small dagger he kept at his waist, he would be able to take on anyone in this part of the house.
Where the hell were the guards?
He slipped into the shadows himself, approaching the sound from behind. There had been a noise of surprise, making him wonder just what he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until he realized that the figured were pressed against Sara’s room, that the dark haired girl happened to be his little sister, that he let out a growl of warning. But it wasn’t enough time for the boy to do anything about it. Hand shot out, grabbing the chiton of the offender tightly in his hand as he yanked him forcefully away from his sister. Pressing him into the opposite side, forearm in his throat, his eyes glanced over at Sara. “Are you alright, Sara? Did he hurt you?”
He hoped to the Gods that his dalliance with Theo hadn’t made him too late.
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To say he was frustrated was an understatement.
Horse settled into the stables, he’d left Theo to herself, knowing that escorting her back to her rooms would just be asking for more trouble than he was willing to deal with. The emotions that he tried to quiet, the ones that he didn’t wish to force upon her, had reared their head and made it known. And what made it all the worse was that she felt the same.
And they both felt as if they could do nothing about it.
Regardless of how deeply they felt for each other, of how real and right it felt to be together, they both had their own reasons centered around one man -- Achilleas. As his brother, as sick as he was of losing to the man, he was still family. They were still close, and he didn’t wish to lose that bond of trust to his own selfish desires. And for her, perhaps it was simply the vows that were made, or maybe she was falling for him, too. But neither wanted to hurt him, so both would suffer alone.
It was bittersweet and painful.
And he was angry.
Angry that the Gods found this all amusing. Angry that he couldn’t just find happiness for once in his life. The past year had been spent in a bliss he’d never expected to know, with a love he hadn’t expected to find. And now, it was just a memory. There would be no building upon it, no family of their own to tell the stories to. He almost wished that he’d never sought her out after that day.
At least then his heart would have been whole.
It was late, the halls expected to be mostly empty at this time of night. And while he hadn’t found himself escorting Theo, he was still in the family wing of the palati. So it was strange to hear voices, to see shadows in this part of the house. While he was unarmed, save for the small dagger he kept at his waist, he would be able to take on anyone in this part of the house.
Where the hell were the guards?
He slipped into the shadows himself, approaching the sound from behind. There had been a noise of surprise, making him wonder just what he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until he realized that the figured were pressed against Sara’s room, that the dark haired girl happened to be his little sister, that he let out a growl of warning. But it wasn’t enough time for the boy to do anything about it. Hand shot out, grabbing the chiton of the offender tightly in his hand as he yanked him forcefully away from his sister. Pressing him into the opposite side, forearm in his throat, his eyes glanced over at Sara. “Are you alright, Sara? Did he hurt you?”
He hoped to the Gods that his dalliance with Theo hadn’t made him too late.
To say he was frustrated was an understatement.
Horse settled into the stables, he’d left Theo to herself, knowing that escorting her back to her rooms would just be asking for more trouble than he was willing to deal with. The emotions that he tried to quiet, the ones that he didn’t wish to force upon her, had reared their head and made it known. And what made it all the worse was that she felt the same.
And they both felt as if they could do nothing about it.
Regardless of how deeply they felt for each other, of how real and right it felt to be together, they both had their own reasons centered around one man -- Achilleas. As his brother, as sick as he was of losing to the man, he was still family. They were still close, and he didn’t wish to lose that bond of trust to his own selfish desires. And for her, perhaps it was simply the vows that were made, or maybe she was falling for him, too. But neither wanted to hurt him, so both would suffer alone.
It was bittersweet and painful.
And he was angry.
Angry that the Gods found this all amusing. Angry that he couldn’t just find happiness for once in his life. The past year had been spent in a bliss he’d never expected to know, with a love he hadn’t expected to find. And now, it was just a memory. There would be no building upon it, no family of their own to tell the stories to. He almost wished that he’d never sought her out after that day.
At least then his heart would have been whole.
It was late, the halls expected to be mostly empty at this time of night. And while he hadn’t found himself escorting Theo, he was still in the family wing of the palati. So it was strange to hear voices, to see shadows in this part of the house. While he was unarmed, save for the small dagger he kept at his waist, he would be able to take on anyone in this part of the house.
Where the hell were the guards?
He slipped into the shadows himself, approaching the sound from behind. There had been a noise of surprise, making him wonder just what he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until he realized that the figured were pressed against Sara’s room, that the dark haired girl happened to be his little sister, that he let out a growl of warning. But it wasn’t enough time for the boy to do anything about it. Hand shot out, grabbing the chiton of the offender tightly in his hand as he yanked him forcefully away from his sister. Pressing him into the opposite side, forearm in his throat, his eyes glanced over at Sara. “Are you alright, Sara? Did he hurt you?”
He hoped to the Gods that his dalliance with Theo hadn’t made him too late.
Her eyes had fallen closed, her hands starting to reach for him in return as she deepened their kiss. Part of it was because she was not sure when she could see him again and she wanted to hold on for just a moment longer. Her fingers traced the smooth line of his jaw, dangerous thoughts dancing through her mind as her heart pounded out an uneven rhythm. She wished, not for the first time, for more time.
Fate was cruel, she thought. Sara had spent so long waiting for his return from Athenia, waiting and never knowing if her budding feelings were being returned and when it seemed that those things were falling into place -- her life had been upended. She was still scrabbling to pick up the pieces, and she hoped that fate would forgive her for being greedy. I will ask him. She thought amid the kiss deciding that fates be damned, she would ask him to sit with her for a while in her rooms. Perhaps they could read, or talk, or...well..she certainly wouldn’t oppose more of this.
She hardly registered the growl as fear chilled the pleasant warmth that had been growing across her skin. In one moment, they were embraced in shadow -- lips pressed together, and in the next she was left breathless against one side of the door while Alastor was shoved up against the other. She was frozen, watching Emilios as he pressed his forearm against the younger man’s throat -- the youngest Mikaelidas son was worried about her, while she worried for Alastor.
It was pure misfortune that they had been caught like this, both of them too greedy in their own ways. She should have never allowed him to walk her so far into the palati. She should have pushed him away when he’d leaned in to kiss her. A thousand regrets flashed through her mind, regrets that would have never crossed her mind if they had not been caught. And by her brother, no less.
”Emilios, no!” She said, her voice much too loud. It cracked through the space between them like lightning, the jump she made to grab his arm rolling after like the thunder. Her small hands dug into the crook of his elbow, her sapphire gaze simultaneously frightened and determined as she pulled against him.
”I’m fine!” She said, the slightest edge of hysteria to her voice. Gods, what was she going to do if her brother choked him to death? It was an outcome that was entirely possible, knowing how strong Emilios could be. Certainly he did not have the same reputation that Achilleas had in regards to battle, but she knew he’d have received similar training as their elder brother. ”I’m fine, look, see. Please let him go.” She pleaded, gaze flickering between them.
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Her eyes had fallen closed, her hands starting to reach for him in return as she deepened their kiss. Part of it was because she was not sure when she could see him again and she wanted to hold on for just a moment longer. Her fingers traced the smooth line of his jaw, dangerous thoughts dancing through her mind as her heart pounded out an uneven rhythm. She wished, not for the first time, for more time.
Fate was cruel, she thought. Sara had spent so long waiting for his return from Athenia, waiting and never knowing if her budding feelings were being returned and when it seemed that those things were falling into place -- her life had been upended. She was still scrabbling to pick up the pieces, and she hoped that fate would forgive her for being greedy. I will ask him. She thought amid the kiss deciding that fates be damned, she would ask him to sit with her for a while in her rooms. Perhaps they could read, or talk, or...well..she certainly wouldn’t oppose more of this.
She hardly registered the growl as fear chilled the pleasant warmth that had been growing across her skin. In one moment, they were embraced in shadow -- lips pressed together, and in the next she was left breathless against one side of the door while Alastor was shoved up against the other. She was frozen, watching Emilios as he pressed his forearm against the younger man’s throat -- the youngest Mikaelidas son was worried about her, while she worried for Alastor.
It was pure misfortune that they had been caught like this, both of them too greedy in their own ways. She should have never allowed him to walk her so far into the palati. She should have pushed him away when he’d leaned in to kiss her. A thousand regrets flashed through her mind, regrets that would have never crossed her mind if they had not been caught. And by her brother, no less.
”Emilios, no!” She said, her voice much too loud. It cracked through the space between them like lightning, the jump she made to grab his arm rolling after like the thunder. Her small hands dug into the crook of his elbow, her sapphire gaze simultaneously frightened and determined as she pulled against him.
”I’m fine!” She said, the slightest edge of hysteria to her voice. Gods, what was she going to do if her brother choked him to death? It was an outcome that was entirely possible, knowing how strong Emilios could be. Certainly he did not have the same reputation that Achilleas had in regards to battle, but she knew he’d have received similar training as their elder brother. ”I’m fine, look, see. Please let him go.” She pleaded, gaze flickering between them.
Her eyes had fallen closed, her hands starting to reach for him in return as she deepened their kiss. Part of it was because she was not sure when she could see him again and she wanted to hold on for just a moment longer. Her fingers traced the smooth line of his jaw, dangerous thoughts dancing through her mind as her heart pounded out an uneven rhythm. She wished, not for the first time, for more time.
Fate was cruel, she thought. Sara had spent so long waiting for his return from Athenia, waiting and never knowing if her budding feelings were being returned and when it seemed that those things were falling into place -- her life had been upended. She was still scrabbling to pick up the pieces, and she hoped that fate would forgive her for being greedy. I will ask him. She thought amid the kiss deciding that fates be damned, she would ask him to sit with her for a while in her rooms. Perhaps they could read, or talk, or...well..she certainly wouldn’t oppose more of this.
She hardly registered the growl as fear chilled the pleasant warmth that had been growing across her skin. In one moment, they were embraced in shadow -- lips pressed together, and in the next she was left breathless against one side of the door while Alastor was shoved up against the other. She was frozen, watching Emilios as he pressed his forearm against the younger man’s throat -- the youngest Mikaelidas son was worried about her, while she worried for Alastor.
It was pure misfortune that they had been caught like this, both of them too greedy in their own ways. She should have never allowed him to walk her so far into the palati. She should have pushed him away when he’d leaned in to kiss her. A thousand regrets flashed through her mind, regrets that would have never crossed her mind if they had not been caught. And by her brother, no less.
”Emilios, no!” She said, her voice much too loud. It cracked through the space between them like lightning, the jump she made to grab his arm rolling after like the thunder. Her small hands dug into the crook of his elbow, her sapphire gaze simultaneously frightened and determined as she pulled against him.
”I’m fine!” She said, the slightest edge of hysteria to her voice. Gods, what was she going to do if her brother choked him to death? It was an outcome that was entirely possible, knowing how strong Emilios could be. Certainly he did not have the same reputation that Achilleas had in regards to battle, but she knew he’d have received similar training as their elder brother. ”I’m fine, look, see. Please let him go.” She pleaded, gaze flickering between them.
What?
Alastor thought he was careful. He thought he'd made all the correct decisions, from disguising as a servant to watching his surroundings for any signs of witnesses to when he went in for that kiss. It was selfishness, not reason, that guided him to it, but at the very least he tried to be careful. It seemed a sick insult upon his senses that he heard the chafing of movement behind him. Of course there was nothing Alastor could do. Of a slight build and completely indisposed by the position of his hands at Sara's waist. Taken entirely by surprised, a soft 'Oh' was all he could do when the fabric of his chiton strafed against the force of being thrown forcefully away from the girl that meant so very much to him.
Instead of warm flesh and the flourishing of the scarce happiness that came from that kiss, he met the cold surface of the wall next to that door. His chiton was torn from the struggle, and the weight on the fibulae was entirely undone. Both sides of torn fabric fell to the wayside, the garment kept up only by the tightly-bound sash at his waist. Rough stone met Alastor's back, rugged scratches surely blooming scrapes and bumps, rose-tinted from just a drop of blood. With the pressure at his collar-bone and against his throat, Alastor raised his arms instinctively, intent on giving himself just enough space to breath. But, he didn't fight beyond that. Violence was abhorrent to the young scholar, and being forced into it for... stealing a kiss?
Who was his assailant? With his vision blurred from the flurry of movement and the pain, it really wasn't until Sara screamed out that he knew who this man was. Emilios of Mikaelidas? The crown prince? What was he doing out in the middle of the night? The world always seemed to make a fool out of Alastor of Vasiliadon. Rather than the calm assurances of normalcy and quiet honour like his brother, Alastor seemed to live a tumultuous existence. His gifts were always turned into curses, from the girl he treasured so deeply to the very way his mind worked. All of it was a cruel comedy, and the moment only seemed to serve to exacerbate it all.
"Ah... my prince..."
It was growing more and more difficult to speak. Already, seeing Emilios would've turned him into a speechless gaf, but instead of seeing him he was assaulted in the dead of night. Sara's voice would only summon more and more people, guardsman who'd see the spectacle. Everything was so fucking perfect, all the time.
He cursed his luck, his strength waning so quickly as the forearm pressed against his Adam's apple. He could vaguely see Sara pulling at her brother, trying to get him off of Alastor. But... would it be enough?
"I'm sorry..." he croaked out, wide eyes looking instead to Sara. What else could he say?
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What?
Alastor thought he was careful. He thought he'd made all the correct decisions, from disguising as a servant to watching his surroundings for any signs of witnesses to when he went in for that kiss. It was selfishness, not reason, that guided him to it, but at the very least he tried to be careful. It seemed a sick insult upon his senses that he heard the chafing of movement behind him. Of course there was nothing Alastor could do. Of a slight build and completely indisposed by the position of his hands at Sara's waist. Taken entirely by surprised, a soft 'Oh' was all he could do when the fabric of his chiton strafed against the force of being thrown forcefully away from the girl that meant so very much to him.
Instead of warm flesh and the flourishing of the scarce happiness that came from that kiss, he met the cold surface of the wall next to that door. His chiton was torn from the struggle, and the weight on the fibulae was entirely undone. Both sides of torn fabric fell to the wayside, the garment kept up only by the tightly-bound sash at his waist. Rough stone met Alastor's back, rugged scratches surely blooming scrapes and bumps, rose-tinted from just a drop of blood. With the pressure at his collar-bone and against his throat, Alastor raised his arms instinctively, intent on giving himself just enough space to breath. But, he didn't fight beyond that. Violence was abhorrent to the young scholar, and being forced into it for... stealing a kiss?
Who was his assailant? With his vision blurred from the flurry of movement and the pain, it really wasn't until Sara screamed out that he knew who this man was. Emilios of Mikaelidas? The crown prince? What was he doing out in the middle of the night? The world always seemed to make a fool out of Alastor of Vasiliadon. Rather than the calm assurances of normalcy and quiet honour like his brother, Alastor seemed to live a tumultuous existence. His gifts were always turned into curses, from the girl he treasured so deeply to the very way his mind worked. All of it was a cruel comedy, and the moment only seemed to serve to exacerbate it all.
"Ah... my prince..."
It was growing more and more difficult to speak. Already, seeing Emilios would've turned him into a speechless gaf, but instead of seeing him he was assaulted in the dead of night. Sara's voice would only summon more and more people, guardsman who'd see the spectacle. Everything was so fucking perfect, all the time.
He cursed his luck, his strength waning so quickly as the forearm pressed against his Adam's apple. He could vaguely see Sara pulling at her brother, trying to get him off of Alastor. But... would it be enough?
"I'm sorry..." he croaked out, wide eyes looking instead to Sara. What else could he say?
What?
Alastor thought he was careful. He thought he'd made all the correct decisions, from disguising as a servant to watching his surroundings for any signs of witnesses to when he went in for that kiss. It was selfishness, not reason, that guided him to it, but at the very least he tried to be careful. It seemed a sick insult upon his senses that he heard the chafing of movement behind him. Of course there was nothing Alastor could do. Of a slight build and completely indisposed by the position of his hands at Sara's waist. Taken entirely by surprised, a soft 'Oh' was all he could do when the fabric of his chiton strafed against the force of being thrown forcefully away from the girl that meant so very much to him.
Instead of warm flesh and the flourishing of the scarce happiness that came from that kiss, he met the cold surface of the wall next to that door. His chiton was torn from the struggle, and the weight on the fibulae was entirely undone. Both sides of torn fabric fell to the wayside, the garment kept up only by the tightly-bound sash at his waist. Rough stone met Alastor's back, rugged scratches surely blooming scrapes and bumps, rose-tinted from just a drop of blood. With the pressure at his collar-bone and against his throat, Alastor raised his arms instinctively, intent on giving himself just enough space to breath. But, he didn't fight beyond that. Violence was abhorrent to the young scholar, and being forced into it for... stealing a kiss?
Who was his assailant? With his vision blurred from the flurry of movement and the pain, it really wasn't until Sara screamed out that he knew who this man was. Emilios of Mikaelidas? The crown prince? What was he doing out in the middle of the night? The world always seemed to make a fool out of Alastor of Vasiliadon. Rather than the calm assurances of normalcy and quiet honour like his brother, Alastor seemed to live a tumultuous existence. His gifts were always turned into curses, from the girl he treasured so deeply to the very way his mind worked. All of it was a cruel comedy, and the moment only seemed to serve to exacerbate it all.
"Ah... my prince..."
It was growing more and more difficult to speak. Already, seeing Emilios would've turned him into a speechless gaf, but instead of seeing him he was assaulted in the dead of night. Sara's voice would only summon more and more people, guardsman who'd see the spectacle. Everything was so fucking perfect, all the time.
He cursed his luck, his strength waning so quickly as the forearm pressed against his Adam's apple. He could vaguely see Sara pulling at her brother, trying to get him off of Alastor. But... would it be enough?
"I'm sorry..." he croaked out, wide eyes looking instead to Sara. What else could he say?
It shouldn’t have been surprising to anyone that he reacted as he did. This was his little sister, the one thing in his life that had always been on his side. In each moment of doubt, of familial strife and pain, she had been there for him with her open and honest love of him. And while she may not have known of Theo (why would he tell his little sister about his love life), she knew more than any other person about him. They had both found solace in their lots as the second borns and enjoyed the freedoms that came with it.
She had been his joy most of his life, and it was his duty to protect her-- no matter what.
So there was little hesitation for him to press this intruder up against the wall, no reason to think that Sara would have asked for any sort of dalliance. Not until his sister was pulling at his arm, begging him to stop his actions and let the man go. His breathing was ragged as he took stock on the boy in front of him. On the cusp of manhood, his youth was apparent. He would have recognized him if he had any military background, which meant that he was some sort of civilian that he didn’t know.
His eyes narrowed in the darkness, trying to place the face he was certain he had seen before. He would have been a fool to completely let the boy go, but the tugging at his arm, coupled with the begging from his sister that she was fine made him release the majority of the pressure against the boy’s throat. But he would not let his guard down, firmly placing himself between Sara and this child.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have you thrown into a cell for trespassing.” His voice was low and deadly, hoping that he knew that it would be easy for him to simply break the boy in two with his bare heads. “And another for why I shouldn’t have you killed for touching her.” He felt so protective of her, knew it was his duty to keep her safe and cared for. If this man child thought that he could force himself on his sister, he had another thing coming. It was his duty to take the place of her father, and he would be damned if he let his own confused mind prevent himself from doing that duty.
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It shouldn’t have been surprising to anyone that he reacted as he did. This was his little sister, the one thing in his life that had always been on his side. In each moment of doubt, of familial strife and pain, she had been there for him with her open and honest love of him. And while she may not have known of Theo (why would he tell his little sister about his love life), she knew more than any other person about him. They had both found solace in their lots as the second borns and enjoyed the freedoms that came with it.
She had been his joy most of his life, and it was his duty to protect her-- no matter what.
So there was little hesitation for him to press this intruder up against the wall, no reason to think that Sara would have asked for any sort of dalliance. Not until his sister was pulling at his arm, begging him to stop his actions and let the man go. His breathing was ragged as he took stock on the boy in front of him. On the cusp of manhood, his youth was apparent. He would have recognized him if he had any military background, which meant that he was some sort of civilian that he didn’t know.
His eyes narrowed in the darkness, trying to place the face he was certain he had seen before. He would have been a fool to completely let the boy go, but the tugging at his arm, coupled with the begging from his sister that she was fine made him release the majority of the pressure against the boy’s throat. But he would not let his guard down, firmly placing himself between Sara and this child.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have you thrown into a cell for trespassing.” His voice was low and deadly, hoping that he knew that it would be easy for him to simply break the boy in two with his bare heads. “And another for why I shouldn’t have you killed for touching her.” He felt so protective of her, knew it was his duty to keep her safe and cared for. If this man child thought that he could force himself on his sister, he had another thing coming. It was his duty to take the place of her father, and he would be damned if he let his own confused mind prevent himself from doing that duty.
It shouldn’t have been surprising to anyone that he reacted as he did. This was his little sister, the one thing in his life that had always been on his side. In each moment of doubt, of familial strife and pain, she had been there for him with her open and honest love of him. And while she may not have known of Theo (why would he tell his little sister about his love life), she knew more than any other person about him. They had both found solace in their lots as the second borns and enjoyed the freedoms that came with it.
She had been his joy most of his life, and it was his duty to protect her-- no matter what.
So there was little hesitation for him to press this intruder up against the wall, no reason to think that Sara would have asked for any sort of dalliance. Not until his sister was pulling at his arm, begging him to stop his actions and let the man go. His breathing was ragged as he took stock on the boy in front of him. On the cusp of manhood, his youth was apparent. He would have recognized him if he had any military background, which meant that he was some sort of civilian that he didn’t know.
His eyes narrowed in the darkness, trying to place the face he was certain he had seen before. He would have been a fool to completely let the boy go, but the tugging at his arm, coupled with the begging from his sister that she was fine made him release the majority of the pressure against the boy’s throat. But he would not let his guard down, firmly placing himself between Sara and this child.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have you thrown into a cell for trespassing.” His voice was low and deadly, hoping that he knew that it would be easy for him to simply break the boy in two with his bare heads. “And another for why I shouldn’t have you killed for touching her.” He felt so protective of her, knew it was his duty to keep her safe and cared for. If this man child thought that he could force himself on his sister, he had another thing coming. It was his duty to take the place of her father, and he would be damned if he let his own confused mind prevent himself from doing that duty.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't have you thrown into a cell for trespassing."
To Alastor, this made a good deal of sense, if he was being honest with himself. He had trespassed, even if the implication by the law was that he had entered without permission. Sara had invited him to walk her home. Technically, he wasn't trespassing, right? But, in this perspective, from the eyes of the overly-aggressive prince with his misguided understanding of what was happening... it made sense to arrest him. Alastor ouldn't struggle against it, given that the alternative was being wrung out like a rag. But, still.
What the fuck?
Why was this happening? What was it with people and their emotions running wild like this? For himself, whenever emotions got too real and they started to change him... he backed off. He found the corner and retreated from scrutiny. It wasn't a matter of shame, but a sense of self-preservation. There was always going to be that macho prick holding his throat, whether they were Egyptian, or Greek, a man or a woman. Someone wanted to put him down and he was just helpless against it. Frail. Meek. Meager.
"I... was just walking her home," he began, just as the pressure laxed and Emilios set himself between the two of them. It was like night and day, seeing Sara next to her brother. Where one was gentle and loving, the other was hateful, his grasp reminiscient of the Scylla, seeking to bring down unsteady ships. A monster with like strength, merciless and vile, the young man could only laugh at the absurdity of it all. The laughter choked out between ragged breaths, his words twisted up by the show of force the man used without thinking or caring.
Was it so easy, to look down at the small and shave away their humanity? Easy for the wealthy and powerful... did they take pleasure in being so angry? Wrath had its means of tearing away at the soul of a man. The scholar had read on it, accounts of soldiers who'd come home a shade of their former selves, overwhelmed by the hatred in their hearts. Was that the prince's fate? Even as he was wrung, he showed the concern, lacking confidence in the regency of a man who was so given to base feelings settled atop misunderstandings.
This is the man poised to rule in Achilleas' place?
For all of the elder's flaws, the younger seemed far worse, and the impression paired with his pain and the hot, righteous anger welling within the boy himself.
So yes, he laughed.
"You'll condemn me to that fate regardless of my argument. You want to, don't you?"
Alastor's arm rose to snake his digits around Emilios' wrist. There was no pressure in his grasp, merely the presence of his hand where it lingered. The laughter persisted for just a moment longer, his head tipped back as he pressed into the wall. Maybe the lack of hair twisted his thoughts, or it was the years of this happening over and over again, the will of the Gods idle as Alastor of Vasiliadon was made an easy target, again and again.
"Is it fun to step on ants and think yourself strong?"
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"Give me one reason why I shouldn't have you thrown into a cell for trespassing."
To Alastor, this made a good deal of sense, if he was being honest with himself. He had trespassed, even if the implication by the law was that he had entered without permission. Sara had invited him to walk her home. Technically, he wasn't trespassing, right? But, in this perspective, from the eyes of the overly-aggressive prince with his misguided understanding of what was happening... it made sense to arrest him. Alastor ouldn't struggle against it, given that the alternative was being wrung out like a rag. But, still.
What the fuck?
Why was this happening? What was it with people and their emotions running wild like this? For himself, whenever emotions got too real and they started to change him... he backed off. He found the corner and retreated from scrutiny. It wasn't a matter of shame, but a sense of self-preservation. There was always going to be that macho prick holding his throat, whether they were Egyptian, or Greek, a man or a woman. Someone wanted to put him down and he was just helpless against it. Frail. Meek. Meager.
"I... was just walking her home," he began, just as the pressure laxed and Emilios set himself between the two of them. It was like night and day, seeing Sara next to her brother. Where one was gentle and loving, the other was hateful, his grasp reminiscient of the Scylla, seeking to bring down unsteady ships. A monster with like strength, merciless and vile, the young man could only laugh at the absurdity of it all. The laughter choked out between ragged breaths, his words twisted up by the show of force the man used without thinking or caring.
Was it so easy, to look down at the small and shave away their humanity? Easy for the wealthy and powerful... did they take pleasure in being so angry? Wrath had its means of tearing away at the soul of a man. The scholar had read on it, accounts of soldiers who'd come home a shade of their former selves, overwhelmed by the hatred in their hearts. Was that the prince's fate? Even as he was wrung, he showed the concern, lacking confidence in the regency of a man who was so given to base feelings settled atop misunderstandings.
This is the man poised to rule in Achilleas' place?
For all of the elder's flaws, the younger seemed far worse, and the impression paired with his pain and the hot, righteous anger welling within the boy himself.
So yes, he laughed.
"You'll condemn me to that fate regardless of my argument. You want to, don't you?"
Alastor's arm rose to snake his digits around Emilios' wrist. There was no pressure in his grasp, merely the presence of his hand where it lingered. The laughter persisted for just a moment longer, his head tipped back as he pressed into the wall. Maybe the lack of hair twisted his thoughts, or it was the years of this happening over and over again, the will of the Gods idle as Alastor of Vasiliadon was made an easy target, again and again.
"Is it fun to step on ants and think yourself strong?"
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't have you thrown into a cell for trespassing."
To Alastor, this made a good deal of sense, if he was being honest with himself. He had trespassed, even if the implication by the law was that he had entered without permission. Sara had invited him to walk her home. Technically, he wasn't trespassing, right? But, in this perspective, from the eyes of the overly-aggressive prince with his misguided understanding of what was happening... it made sense to arrest him. Alastor ouldn't struggle against it, given that the alternative was being wrung out like a rag. But, still.
What the fuck?
Why was this happening? What was it with people and their emotions running wild like this? For himself, whenever emotions got too real and they started to change him... he backed off. He found the corner and retreated from scrutiny. It wasn't a matter of shame, but a sense of self-preservation. There was always going to be that macho prick holding his throat, whether they were Egyptian, or Greek, a man or a woman. Someone wanted to put him down and he was just helpless against it. Frail. Meek. Meager.
"I... was just walking her home," he began, just as the pressure laxed and Emilios set himself between the two of them. It was like night and day, seeing Sara next to her brother. Where one was gentle and loving, the other was hateful, his grasp reminiscient of the Scylla, seeking to bring down unsteady ships. A monster with like strength, merciless and vile, the young man could only laugh at the absurdity of it all. The laughter choked out between ragged breaths, his words twisted up by the show of force the man used without thinking or caring.
Was it so easy, to look down at the small and shave away their humanity? Easy for the wealthy and powerful... did they take pleasure in being so angry? Wrath had its means of tearing away at the soul of a man. The scholar had read on it, accounts of soldiers who'd come home a shade of their former selves, overwhelmed by the hatred in their hearts. Was that the prince's fate? Even as he was wrung, he showed the concern, lacking confidence in the regency of a man who was so given to base feelings settled atop misunderstandings.
This is the man poised to rule in Achilleas' place?
For all of the elder's flaws, the younger seemed far worse, and the impression paired with his pain and the hot, righteous anger welling within the boy himself.
So yes, he laughed.
"You'll condemn me to that fate regardless of my argument. You want to, don't you?"
Alastor's arm rose to snake his digits around Emilios' wrist. There was no pressure in his grasp, merely the presence of his hand where it lingered. The laughter persisted for just a moment longer, his head tipped back as he pressed into the wall. Maybe the lack of hair twisted his thoughts, or it was the years of this happening over and over again, the will of the Gods idle as Alastor of Vasiliadon was made an easy target, again and again.
"Is it fun to step on ants and think yourself strong?"
Emilios had always been her protector. She had loved him from the first time that she had laid eyes on him, and he had never pushed her away. He had embraced her as openly as she had embraced him, bonded by more than blood. There was something about them that made them two sides of the same coin, and she could not recall a time that they had disagreed on something. Until right now. Sara’s grip on her brother’s arm tightened, as if she could hold him back at all. She threaded her arm through his, his elbow brought back against her chest as she held on for dear life.
A thousand regrets flashed through her heart. She had been stupid to invite him back with her this far. She had inadvertently put him in danger. This was not Euttica where they could trapeze about without being noticed. This was the royal palace, full of guards and servants. A thousand eyes, and to be so flagrant under her brother’s nose? Gods, what had she been thinking. Aphrodite, please! She called out silently to the Goddess of Love, wishing for some kind of divine intervention.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have you thrown into a cell for trespassing. And another for why I shouldn’t have you killed for touching her.”
Those words were chilling, her head snapping up as her grip loosened. Getting between them was dangerous, but telling him the truth...her cheeks burned with the idea. She’d never talked to Emilios about her romantic interests. No doubt he still thought of her as a young, chaste girl -- his pure, innocent little sister. And in the truest sense of the word, that was true but only by a technicality. A technicality that she’d been willing to end tonight, admittedly.
”I was just walking her home.” Alastor said and Sara bobbed her head. ”Y-yes, I asked him to escort me home.” She said, supplementing the truth. It was true. There just happened to be a lot more information underneath that Emilios’ probably shouldn’t know about. The months spent meeting in secret, the kisses they shared, the relationship that they’d formed all under everyone’s noses.
And then, someone laughed. Confusion spread across her features, her gaze flickering to the source of the sound. Alastor was laughing. Sara gave him a look that said that she thought he’d lost his mind. Now was not the time to be laughing. Her horror was evident when he kept talking, practically digging a grave for himself.
“Is it fun to step on ants and think yourself strong?”
”Be quiet!” She snapped. ”For the love of the gods, shut up, Alastor!” She didn’t think she’d ever spoken to him that way, not truly. She’d always been soft spoken and one to encourage him rather than try to tear him down. She knew first hand that there were too many people capable of doing that already. She pulled on Emilios again, her arm still tangled in one of his.
”He’s only here because I asked him to be. We haven’t seen each other since I left with my mother. We were just visiting.” She said to Emilios, trying to give him as much of the truth as she could manage without revealing everything.
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Emilios had always been her protector. She had loved him from the first time that she had laid eyes on him, and he had never pushed her away. He had embraced her as openly as she had embraced him, bonded by more than blood. There was something about them that made them two sides of the same coin, and she could not recall a time that they had disagreed on something. Until right now. Sara’s grip on her brother’s arm tightened, as if she could hold him back at all. She threaded her arm through his, his elbow brought back against her chest as she held on for dear life.
A thousand regrets flashed through her heart. She had been stupid to invite him back with her this far. She had inadvertently put him in danger. This was not Euttica where they could trapeze about without being noticed. This was the royal palace, full of guards and servants. A thousand eyes, and to be so flagrant under her brother’s nose? Gods, what had she been thinking. Aphrodite, please! She called out silently to the Goddess of Love, wishing for some kind of divine intervention.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have you thrown into a cell for trespassing. And another for why I shouldn’t have you killed for touching her.”
Those words were chilling, her head snapping up as her grip loosened. Getting between them was dangerous, but telling him the truth...her cheeks burned with the idea. She’d never talked to Emilios about her romantic interests. No doubt he still thought of her as a young, chaste girl -- his pure, innocent little sister. And in the truest sense of the word, that was true but only by a technicality. A technicality that she’d been willing to end tonight, admittedly.
”I was just walking her home.” Alastor said and Sara bobbed her head. ”Y-yes, I asked him to escort me home.” She said, supplementing the truth. It was true. There just happened to be a lot more information underneath that Emilios’ probably shouldn’t know about. The months spent meeting in secret, the kisses they shared, the relationship that they’d formed all under everyone’s noses.
And then, someone laughed. Confusion spread across her features, her gaze flickering to the source of the sound. Alastor was laughing. Sara gave him a look that said that she thought he’d lost his mind. Now was not the time to be laughing. Her horror was evident when he kept talking, practically digging a grave for himself.
“Is it fun to step on ants and think yourself strong?”
”Be quiet!” She snapped. ”For the love of the gods, shut up, Alastor!” She didn’t think she’d ever spoken to him that way, not truly. She’d always been soft spoken and one to encourage him rather than try to tear him down. She knew first hand that there were too many people capable of doing that already. She pulled on Emilios again, her arm still tangled in one of his.
”He’s only here because I asked him to be. We haven’t seen each other since I left with my mother. We were just visiting.” She said to Emilios, trying to give him as much of the truth as she could manage without revealing everything.
Emilios had always been her protector. She had loved him from the first time that she had laid eyes on him, and he had never pushed her away. He had embraced her as openly as she had embraced him, bonded by more than blood. There was something about them that made them two sides of the same coin, and she could not recall a time that they had disagreed on something. Until right now. Sara’s grip on her brother’s arm tightened, as if she could hold him back at all. She threaded her arm through his, his elbow brought back against her chest as she held on for dear life.
A thousand regrets flashed through her heart. She had been stupid to invite him back with her this far. She had inadvertently put him in danger. This was not Euttica where they could trapeze about without being noticed. This was the royal palace, full of guards and servants. A thousand eyes, and to be so flagrant under her brother’s nose? Gods, what had she been thinking. Aphrodite, please! She called out silently to the Goddess of Love, wishing for some kind of divine intervention.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t have you thrown into a cell for trespassing. And another for why I shouldn’t have you killed for touching her.”
Those words were chilling, her head snapping up as her grip loosened. Getting between them was dangerous, but telling him the truth...her cheeks burned with the idea. She’d never talked to Emilios about her romantic interests. No doubt he still thought of her as a young, chaste girl -- his pure, innocent little sister. And in the truest sense of the word, that was true but only by a technicality. A technicality that she’d been willing to end tonight, admittedly.
”I was just walking her home.” Alastor said and Sara bobbed her head. ”Y-yes, I asked him to escort me home.” She said, supplementing the truth. It was true. There just happened to be a lot more information underneath that Emilios’ probably shouldn’t know about. The months spent meeting in secret, the kisses they shared, the relationship that they’d formed all under everyone’s noses.
And then, someone laughed. Confusion spread across her features, her gaze flickering to the source of the sound. Alastor was laughing. Sara gave him a look that said that she thought he’d lost his mind. Now was not the time to be laughing. Her horror was evident when he kept talking, practically digging a grave for himself.
“Is it fun to step on ants and think yourself strong?”
”Be quiet!” She snapped. ”For the love of the gods, shut up, Alastor!” She didn’t think she’d ever spoken to him that way, not truly. She’d always been soft spoken and one to encourage him rather than try to tear him down. She knew first hand that there were too many people capable of doing that already. She pulled on Emilios again, her arm still tangled in one of his.
”He’s only here because I asked him to be. We haven’t seen each other since I left with my mother. We were just visiting.” She said to Emilios, trying to give him as much of the truth as she could manage without revealing everything.
The boy's fearful laughter- because it could only be that unless he truly wished to meet the boatman this night - had his hand twist that little bit firmer in his chiton, jerking him away from the wall only to push back again, and he was ready to show the child that he didn’t need to feel strong, he was strong. Strong enough to protect his sweet sister from idiotic boys with big ideas. If he could do one thing right, then it would be this.
‘He’s only here because I asked him to be. We haven’t seen each other since I left with my mother. We were just visiting.’
Sara’s voice, coming as she tugged on his arm, had Emilios turn toward her finally, looking her over again and trying to read her expression. Anxious perhaps, but she did not have the look of one truly afraid, no tear tracks were marring her face, and he paused, glancing between the two of them.
“Visiting? At this hour?” The idea that Sara didn’t appear to be in distress about the young man’s presence, but instead more concerned about Emilios’ grip upon him began to sink through the fog of fury that had clouded his mind when first he’d come across them. And the picture he began to piece together was quite different, one he wasn’t sure he was any happier with.
Duckling...running around with boys?. The Prince shot a narrowed eye glance at the lanky youth again, because he knew all too well where his interest lay. And turning back to Sara, Emilios blinked and it seemed suddenly she wasn’t the little girl he’d chased around the archontiko anymore but was a young woman. It was a bit of a shocking realisation, and he glanced away. Fingers loosening in the boy’s chiton, the older man, took a step back but kept a hard gaze locked upon Alastor.
“Whatever you were doing. You’d better never let me catch you doing it again. Understood? I might not be so lenient next time.”
With one final shove to the boy’s chest, Emilios released him. “For the sake of my sister’s reputation, I shan’t call the guards. You found your way in so I assume you can show yourself out?” And then he turned to Sara, jabbing a finger in her direction. “And you, I think we can have a little chat, can’t we? About what constitutes acceptable visiting?”
The words sounded strange, Emilios hardly used to playing the voice of authority, but who else would do it, if not him? He’d written to Meena and had her brought here, and he’d be damned if was going to let anything befall her under his watch. “Why.Are.You.Stil.Here” he said through grit teeth toward the boy who still stood gawking. “Get Out!”
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The boy's fearful laughter- because it could only be that unless he truly wished to meet the boatman this night - had his hand twist that little bit firmer in his chiton, jerking him away from the wall only to push back again, and he was ready to show the child that he didn’t need to feel strong, he was strong. Strong enough to protect his sweet sister from idiotic boys with big ideas. If he could do one thing right, then it would be this.
‘He’s only here because I asked him to be. We haven’t seen each other since I left with my mother. We were just visiting.’
Sara’s voice, coming as she tugged on his arm, had Emilios turn toward her finally, looking her over again and trying to read her expression. Anxious perhaps, but she did not have the look of one truly afraid, no tear tracks were marring her face, and he paused, glancing between the two of them.
“Visiting? At this hour?” The idea that Sara didn’t appear to be in distress about the young man’s presence, but instead more concerned about Emilios’ grip upon him began to sink through the fog of fury that had clouded his mind when first he’d come across them. And the picture he began to piece together was quite different, one he wasn’t sure he was any happier with.
Duckling...running around with boys?. The Prince shot a narrowed eye glance at the lanky youth again, because he knew all too well where his interest lay. And turning back to Sara, Emilios blinked and it seemed suddenly she wasn’t the little girl he’d chased around the archontiko anymore but was a young woman. It was a bit of a shocking realisation, and he glanced away. Fingers loosening in the boy’s chiton, the older man, took a step back but kept a hard gaze locked upon Alastor.
“Whatever you were doing. You’d better never let me catch you doing it again. Understood? I might not be so lenient next time.”
With one final shove to the boy’s chest, Emilios released him. “For the sake of my sister’s reputation, I shan’t call the guards. You found your way in so I assume you can show yourself out?” And then he turned to Sara, jabbing a finger in her direction. “And you, I think we can have a little chat, can’t we? About what constitutes acceptable visiting?”
The words sounded strange, Emilios hardly used to playing the voice of authority, but who else would do it, if not him? He’d written to Meena and had her brought here, and he’d be damned if was going to let anything befall her under his watch. “Why.Are.You.Stil.Here” he said through grit teeth toward the boy who still stood gawking. “Get Out!”
The boy's fearful laughter- because it could only be that unless he truly wished to meet the boatman this night - had his hand twist that little bit firmer in his chiton, jerking him away from the wall only to push back again, and he was ready to show the child that he didn’t need to feel strong, he was strong. Strong enough to protect his sweet sister from idiotic boys with big ideas. If he could do one thing right, then it would be this.
‘He’s only here because I asked him to be. We haven’t seen each other since I left with my mother. We were just visiting.’
Sara’s voice, coming as she tugged on his arm, had Emilios turn toward her finally, looking her over again and trying to read her expression. Anxious perhaps, but she did not have the look of one truly afraid, no tear tracks were marring her face, and he paused, glancing between the two of them.
“Visiting? At this hour?” The idea that Sara didn’t appear to be in distress about the young man’s presence, but instead more concerned about Emilios’ grip upon him began to sink through the fog of fury that had clouded his mind when first he’d come across them. And the picture he began to piece together was quite different, one he wasn’t sure he was any happier with.
Duckling...running around with boys?. The Prince shot a narrowed eye glance at the lanky youth again, because he knew all too well where his interest lay. And turning back to Sara, Emilios blinked and it seemed suddenly she wasn’t the little girl he’d chased around the archontiko anymore but was a young woman. It was a bit of a shocking realisation, and he glanced away. Fingers loosening in the boy’s chiton, the older man, took a step back but kept a hard gaze locked upon Alastor.
“Whatever you were doing. You’d better never let me catch you doing it again. Understood? I might not be so lenient next time.”
With one final shove to the boy’s chest, Emilios released him. “For the sake of my sister’s reputation, I shan’t call the guards. You found your way in so I assume you can show yourself out?” And then he turned to Sara, jabbing a finger in her direction. “And you, I think we can have a little chat, can’t we? About what constitutes acceptable visiting?”
The words sounded strange, Emilios hardly used to playing the voice of authority, but who else would do it, if not him? He’d written to Meena and had her brought here, and he’d be damned if was going to let anything befall her under his watch. “Why.Are.You.Stil.Here” he said through grit teeth toward the boy who still stood gawking. “Get Out!”
Pathetic. Weak. Meager.
Alastor knew that all of his life was worthless in the eyes of these 'living gods' that made up the royalty. He wanted more for himself, craved a future of significance and some semblance of honour in that. Given his lacking proficiencies in any sort of physical or martial engagement... it was his mind. Astute, accurate and insightful, Alastor could be prized in the right place. But all of that was meaningless in the single utterance, a question posed in that scathing tone of his, a clever mind sharpened to a point in an effort to spit in the face of a giant.
"Be quiet!"
The snap was not missed, and Sara being the one saying it served to bring him back to reality.
"For the love of the gods, shut up, Alastor!"
She'd never said his name like that. Was it venom? Did she take her brother's side even as she tried to pull him back frm the brink? Was Alastor's assessment both incredibly inappropriate and incorrect? He wondered through the way his brain ground to a halt and Emilios turned his attention next towards Sara... Alastor crumpled again, his expression downcast as his light grasp withered away and his hands fell to his sides.
At last, the prince seemed to calm down. Alastor realized the gravity of what he'd said, pressed by the memory of being attacked like he was... He felt his fists clench, nails digging into his palms as he went between the prince and his sister. Could he form a rift between them? Was it worth Sara giving up the possibility of a future, merely to pursue these feelings that seemed only to cause them pain?
Stay quiet, he urged himself, his teeth capturing his tongue until the pain of it thrashed through his mouth. He found Emilios' gaze fixed to him, but did not meet it, instead falling back into the wall once again once he was pushed. He sank to the floor, nodding in understanding as the prince extended what he must've defined as mercy out to him.
"Why.Are.You.Still.Here? Get out!"
Alastor nodded his head, looking back only once towards Sara before he used his long legs to carry him right the fuck out of this situation. He felt the ache in his legs, the grip against his throat... He'd come off better than most...
It's time to go, he resolved, the thought of himself and Sara's prospects growing narrower and narrower. There was clearly no hope, given this introduction to her family.
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Pathetic. Weak. Meager.
Alastor knew that all of his life was worthless in the eyes of these 'living gods' that made up the royalty. He wanted more for himself, craved a future of significance and some semblance of honour in that. Given his lacking proficiencies in any sort of physical or martial engagement... it was his mind. Astute, accurate and insightful, Alastor could be prized in the right place. But all of that was meaningless in the single utterance, a question posed in that scathing tone of his, a clever mind sharpened to a point in an effort to spit in the face of a giant.
"Be quiet!"
The snap was not missed, and Sara being the one saying it served to bring him back to reality.
"For the love of the gods, shut up, Alastor!"
She'd never said his name like that. Was it venom? Did she take her brother's side even as she tried to pull him back frm the brink? Was Alastor's assessment both incredibly inappropriate and incorrect? He wondered through the way his brain ground to a halt and Emilios turned his attention next towards Sara... Alastor crumpled again, his expression downcast as his light grasp withered away and his hands fell to his sides.
At last, the prince seemed to calm down. Alastor realized the gravity of what he'd said, pressed by the memory of being attacked like he was... He felt his fists clench, nails digging into his palms as he went between the prince and his sister. Could he form a rift between them? Was it worth Sara giving up the possibility of a future, merely to pursue these feelings that seemed only to cause them pain?
Stay quiet, he urged himself, his teeth capturing his tongue until the pain of it thrashed through his mouth. He found Emilios' gaze fixed to him, but did not meet it, instead falling back into the wall once again once he was pushed. He sank to the floor, nodding in understanding as the prince extended what he must've defined as mercy out to him.
"Why.Are.You.Still.Here? Get out!"
Alastor nodded his head, looking back only once towards Sara before he used his long legs to carry him right the fuck out of this situation. He felt the ache in his legs, the grip against his throat... He'd come off better than most...
It's time to go, he resolved, the thought of himself and Sara's prospects growing narrower and narrower. There was clearly no hope, given this introduction to her family.
Pathetic. Weak. Meager.
Alastor knew that all of his life was worthless in the eyes of these 'living gods' that made up the royalty. He wanted more for himself, craved a future of significance and some semblance of honour in that. Given his lacking proficiencies in any sort of physical or martial engagement... it was his mind. Astute, accurate and insightful, Alastor could be prized in the right place. But all of that was meaningless in the single utterance, a question posed in that scathing tone of his, a clever mind sharpened to a point in an effort to spit in the face of a giant.
"Be quiet!"
The snap was not missed, and Sara being the one saying it served to bring him back to reality.
"For the love of the gods, shut up, Alastor!"
She'd never said his name like that. Was it venom? Did she take her brother's side even as she tried to pull him back frm the brink? Was Alastor's assessment both incredibly inappropriate and incorrect? He wondered through the way his brain ground to a halt and Emilios turned his attention next towards Sara... Alastor crumpled again, his expression downcast as his light grasp withered away and his hands fell to his sides.
At last, the prince seemed to calm down. Alastor realized the gravity of what he'd said, pressed by the memory of being attacked like he was... He felt his fists clench, nails digging into his palms as he went between the prince and his sister. Could he form a rift between them? Was it worth Sara giving up the possibility of a future, merely to pursue these feelings that seemed only to cause them pain?
Stay quiet, he urged himself, his teeth capturing his tongue until the pain of it thrashed through his mouth. He found Emilios' gaze fixed to him, but did not meet it, instead falling back into the wall once again once he was pushed. He sank to the floor, nodding in understanding as the prince extended what he must've defined as mercy out to him.
"Why.Are.You.Still.Here? Get out!"
Alastor nodded his head, looking back only once towards Sara before he used his long legs to carry him right the fuck out of this situation. He felt the ache in his legs, the grip against his throat... He'd come off better than most...
It's time to go, he resolved, the thought of himself and Sara's prospects growing narrower and narrower. There was clearly no hope, given this introduction to her family.
“It wasn’t this hour when we started.” She found herself voicing the protest. Her fingers dug harder into Emilios’ arm. He had always been her protector, the brother she had always wanted but she hadn’t thought about the way he would react to a moment like this. Maybe she had thought he wouldn’t care that much. It wasn’t as if her reputation mattered all that much. Daughter of a mistress, bastard of a dead man. She wasn’t a princess in name or by birth, she was just some...nobody. A nobody that had been cast out like an unwanted pet at the first opportunity.
“Emilios!” She said in a voice that was an octave too high as he practically barred Alastor from visiting again. This isn’t fair. A voice in her head kept saying. Emilios shoved him, and she wanted to shove her brother too. He wasn’t being fair. Her blue gaze shone with tears that threatened her vision as she looked at Alastor, wanting nothing more than to go to him and make sure he was alright. What had gotten into him to speak so...so...crazily to Emilios? He was the Prince, currently acting as King...he could be killed for such insolence.
Emilios shook out of her grasp, turning to jab a finger in her direction which made her snap to attention. Shameful heat flooded her cheeks, and she found that she lacked the presence of mind to form a coherent argument. Her mouth moved, but nothing could manage to quite make it out. She wanted to yell, to say...say something but…
Before she could muster her words, he snapped at Alastor again and as the boy beat a hasty retreat. It was only as he disappeared into the dark that she seemed to find her voice, her face flashing into a hard mask that Emilios had likely never seen on the girl more akin to sunshine than thunderstorms.
“How dare you.” She said through gritted teeth, her hands curled into tight fists. “You didn’t have any right at all to...to do that.” She shook her head. “I’m quite capable of deciding who to spend my time with and since you and Achilleas put my family out of the archintikos you don’t get to tell me how to live anymore!” She was blinded by rage as she reached forward and shoved Emilios before turning on her heel to run off after Alastor.
She was not sure how she found Alastor after that, her feet just seemed to find their way. She all but tackled him from behind, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face into his back. “Alastor, Alastor, please wait.” She said, the overwhelming emotions of everything resulting in tears being pressed into the cloth of his clothes. “Are you alright?”
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“It wasn’t this hour when we started.” She found herself voicing the protest. Her fingers dug harder into Emilios’ arm. He had always been her protector, the brother she had always wanted but she hadn’t thought about the way he would react to a moment like this. Maybe she had thought he wouldn’t care that much. It wasn’t as if her reputation mattered all that much. Daughter of a mistress, bastard of a dead man. She wasn’t a princess in name or by birth, she was just some...nobody. A nobody that had been cast out like an unwanted pet at the first opportunity.
“Emilios!” She said in a voice that was an octave too high as he practically barred Alastor from visiting again. This isn’t fair. A voice in her head kept saying. Emilios shoved him, and she wanted to shove her brother too. He wasn’t being fair. Her blue gaze shone with tears that threatened her vision as she looked at Alastor, wanting nothing more than to go to him and make sure he was alright. What had gotten into him to speak so...so...crazily to Emilios? He was the Prince, currently acting as King...he could be killed for such insolence.
Emilios shook out of her grasp, turning to jab a finger in her direction which made her snap to attention. Shameful heat flooded her cheeks, and she found that she lacked the presence of mind to form a coherent argument. Her mouth moved, but nothing could manage to quite make it out. She wanted to yell, to say...say something but…
Before she could muster her words, he snapped at Alastor again and as the boy beat a hasty retreat. It was only as he disappeared into the dark that she seemed to find her voice, her face flashing into a hard mask that Emilios had likely never seen on the girl more akin to sunshine than thunderstorms.
“How dare you.” She said through gritted teeth, her hands curled into tight fists. “You didn’t have any right at all to...to do that.” She shook her head. “I’m quite capable of deciding who to spend my time with and since you and Achilleas put my family out of the archintikos you don’t get to tell me how to live anymore!” She was blinded by rage as she reached forward and shoved Emilios before turning on her heel to run off after Alastor.
She was not sure how she found Alastor after that, her feet just seemed to find their way. She all but tackled him from behind, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face into his back. “Alastor, Alastor, please wait.” She said, the overwhelming emotions of everything resulting in tears being pressed into the cloth of his clothes. “Are you alright?”
“It wasn’t this hour when we started.” She found herself voicing the protest. Her fingers dug harder into Emilios’ arm. He had always been her protector, the brother she had always wanted but she hadn’t thought about the way he would react to a moment like this. Maybe she had thought he wouldn’t care that much. It wasn’t as if her reputation mattered all that much. Daughter of a mistress, bastard of a dead man. She wasn’t a princess in name or by birth, she was just some...nobody. A nobody that had been cast out like an unwanted pet at the first opportunity.
“Emilios!” She said in a voice that was an octave too high as he practically barred Alastor from visiting again. This isn’t fair. A voice in her head kept saying. Emilios shoved him, and she wanted to shove her brother too. He wasn’t being fair. Her blue gaze shone with tears that threatened her vision as she looked at Alastor, wanting nothing more than to go to him and make sure he was alright. What had gotten into him to speak so...so...crazily to Emilios? He was the Prince, currently acting as King...he could be killed for such insolence.
Emilios shook out of her grasp, turning to jab a finger in her direction which made her snap to attention. Shameful heat flooded her cheeks, and she found that she lacked the presence of mind to form a coherent argument. Her mouth moved, but nothing could manage to quite make it out. She wanted to yell, to say...say something but…
Before she could muster her words, he snapped at Alastor again and as the boy beat a hasty retreat. It was only as he disappeared into the dark that she seemed to find her voice, her face flashing into a hard mask that Emilios had likely never seen on the girl more akin to sunshine than thunderstorms.
“How dare you.” She said through gritted teeth, her hands curled into tight fists. “You didn’t have any right at all to...to do that.” She shook her head. “I’m quite capable of deciding who to spend my time with and since you and Achilleas put my family out of the archintikos you don’t get to tell me how to live anymore!” She was blinded by rage as she reached forward and shoved Emilios before turning on her heel to run off after Alastor.
She was not sure how she found Alastor after that, her feet just seemed to find their way. She all but tackled him from behind, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face into his back. “Alastor, Alastor, please wait.” She said, the overwhelming emotions of everything resulting in tears being pressed into the cloth of his clothes. “Are you alright?”
Alastor didn't like pain, but he always found a way of encountering. Whether he was slapped around by people wanting to copy off from his work in Athenia, to vagrants and now princes who made every effort to antagonize him. That burden, the way his brain fought against anxiety and lashed out verbally... it was problematic to be sure. He needed to be better at controlling himself, but also, to just avoid these situations. Danger lurked behind ever corner, especially as the world became more and more chaotic.
He just wanted out. To find his bedroom, scream into the mattress, then turn onto his back and let the cannabis pull away every little pain and worry until it left him laid bare and his mind stilled. Alastor didn't stick around to listen to Sara chew out Emilios, or his motivations might've been different. He did, however, stay within range for her to see him when she made chase.
Taken from behind, the boy nearly fell to the floor, stumbling as he felt Sara's arms thrown around his waist and her face pressed into his back. Slowly, he pulled back, turning around as he caught sight of just how deeply this whole thing hurt her. Did she feel responsible? It was, in his eyes, all the more reason to solidify his resolve. He was a complication, a problem... a detriment to her dignity even as she held no title or presence in society. In the end, he'd acted as a barrier between herself and Emilios, who he knew to be sympathetic to her.
"Alastor, Alastor," she murmured against him, just as he gritted his teeth and pulled away from her. He nodded his head at her question, rooted in place even as he pressed his back into the exterior palati wall. Trembling hands reached for the knapsack he'd scrambled to get back together before he thought better of it. He'd do that away from Sara, her further visitation doing little to comfort him. This is exactly why he'd just been struck moments before!
"You can't be here. I can't, either. I'm not alright, Sara. I almost got myself killed and disgraced you in the process. This..." he continued, pointing between them before elaborating,
"This is causing us more pain than we know what to do with. We haven't seen each other for a while and then the one time we do... it might've ended forever. I... I don't think this can work, not while you're in the palace with your brother."
The stab of regret. He didn't want this. He felt the wound in his chest as he said the words. Rather than give her a chance to answer, he shook his head and said,
"No... it can't work. You have too much going for you to give it up for me."
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Alastor didn't like pain, but he always found a way of encountering. Whether he was slapped around by people wanting to copy off from his work in Athenia, to vagrants and now princes who made every effort to antagonize him. That burden, the way his brain fought against anxiety and lashed out verbally... it was problematic to be sure. He needed to be better at controlling himself, but also, to just avoid these situations. Danger lurked behind ever corner, especially as the world became more and more chaotic.
He just wanted out. To find his bedroom, scream into the mattress, then turn onto his back and let the cannabis pull away every little pain and worry until it left him laid bare and his mind stilled. Alastor didn't stick around to listen to Sara chew out Emilios, or his motivations might've been different. He did, however, stay within range for her to see him when she made chase.
Taken from behind, the boy nearly fell to the floor, stumbling as he felt Sara's arms thrown around his waist and her face pressed into his back. Slowly, he pulled back, turning around as he caught sight of just how deeply this whole thing hurt her. Did she feel responsible? It was, in his eyes, all the more reason to solidify his resolve. He was a complication, a problem... a detriment to her dignity even as she held no title or presence in society. In the end, he'd acted as a barrier between herself and Emilios, who he knew to be sympathetic to her.
"Alastor, Alastor," she murmured against him, just as he gritted his teeth and pulled away from her. He nodded his head at her question, rooted in place even as he pressed his back into the exterior palati wall. Trembling hands reached for the knapsack he'd scrambled to get back together before he thought better of it. He'd do that away from Sara, her further visitation doing little to comfort him. This is exactly why he'd just been struck moments before!
"You can't be here. I can't, either. I'm not alright, Sara. I almost got myself killed and disgraced you in the process. This..." he continued, pointing between them before elaborating,
"This is causing us more pain than we know what to do with. We haven't seen each other for a while and then the one time we do... it might've ended forever. I... I don't think this can work, not while you're in the palace with your brother."
The stab of regret. He didn't want this. He felt the wound in his chest as he said the words. Rather than give her a chance to answer, he shook his head and said,
"No... it can't work. You have too much going for you to give it up for me."
Alastor didn't like pain, but he always found a way of encountering. Whether he was slapped around by people wanting to copy off from his work in Athenia, to vagrants and now princes who made every effort to antagonize him. That burden, the way his brain fought against anxiety and lashed out verbally... it was problematic to be sure. He needed to be better at controlling himself, but also, to just avoid these situations. Danger lurked behind ever corner, especially as the world became more and more chaotic.
He just wanted out. To find his bedroom, scream into the mattress, then turn onto his back and let the cannabis pull away every little pain and worry until it left him laid bare and his mind stilled. Alastor didn't stick around to listen to Sara chew out Emilios, or his motivations might've been different. He did, however, stay within range for her to see him when she made chase.
Taken from behind, the boy nearly fell to the floor, stumbling as he felt Sara's arms thrown around his waist and her face pressed into his back. Slowly, he pulled back, turning around as he caught sight of just how deeply this whole thing hurt her. Did she feel responsible? It was, in his eyes, all the more reason to solidify his resolve. He was a complication, a problem... a detriment to her dignity even as she held no title or presence in society. In the end, he'd acted as a barrier between herself and Emilios, who he knew to be sympathetic to her.
"Alastor, Alastor," she murmured against him, just as he gritted his teeth and pulled away from her. He nodded his head at her question, rooted in place even as he pressed his back into the exterior palati wall. Trembling hands reached for the knapsack he'd scrambled to get back together before he thought better of it. He'd do that away from Sara, her further visitation doing little to comfort him. This is exactly why he'd just been struck moments before!
"You can't be here. I can't, either. I'm not alright, Sara. I almost got myself killed and disgraced you in the process. This..." he continued, pointing between them before elaborating,
"This is causing us more pain than we know what to do with. We haven't seen each other for a while and then the one time we do... it might've ended forever. I... I don't think this can work, not while you're in the palace with your brother."
The stab of regret. He didn't want this. He felt the wound in his chest as he said the words. Rather than give her a chance to answer, he shook his head and said,
"No... it can't work. You have too much going for you to give it up for me."
Her grip on him was tight, so it was the surprise alone that made her let him go. I probably scared him. She thought, rationalizing his behavior after what had just transpired between the three of them. It was fair. Emilios had looked particularly murderous, had threatened him and neither of them had been prepared for it. She had not been thinking at all of her brother or his protective streak. She’d only had a mind for Alastor, for the feel of his lips against hers, and for the happiness that he brought her.
You can’t be here. She froze, her brows furrowing as he continued to speak. The world seemed to tilt sideways as she tried to understand what he was saying to her. Causing each other pain? She was surprisingly hurt by the words. Had she been hurting him unintentionally somehow? She couldn’t think of a single thing that he had done to hurt her in the short month or so that they’d confessed their love to each other.
”You could never hurt me.” She said in a breath, the words barely making it past her lips and dying in the air. He was speaking too fast, the words not making any sense at all to her but she felt her chest go cold. She was frozen in place, the breeze ruffling her hair as they stood just outside. He leaned against the wall, keeping his distance and she couldn’t make herself move to close the distance. Her heart squeezed painfully as she tried to make sense of what he meant -- what he was telling her even though it was obvious. He was...he was…
He wasn’t even giving her a chance to say no! The shock was giving way to an emotion she could not describe, hurt flaring in her chest as she curled her fingers into tight fists. She clutched one hand between her breasts, feeling like she might be sick. It was not as if she had asked for any of this to happen! Was he blaming her for what had happened? Did he truly think she thought any of what had just occurred was okay?
The tears welled and spilled over before she could stop them, her heart in a free fall to the soles of her feet. It may as well have fallen straight into Hades’ hands for all that she could care. She could barely hear herself over the sound of her heart breaking, shattering like a vase thrown to the ground. There were a thousand pieces...how could she pick them all up again?
”I don’t want any of it.” She choked out, her gaze pleading. He couldn’t leave her too. He couldn’t let her go this easily, not after everything. He had said that he loved her. Was that so easily tossed aside? Was she so easily tossed aside? ”Please, Alastor. None of it means anything without you.” The tears were free falling, tracking down her cheeks and dripping to mar her chiton. ”I love you.” Her throat closed as the words escaped, and she took a step forward -- willing herself to close the distance.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Her grip on him was tight, so it was the surprise alone that made her let him go. I probably scared him. She thought, rationalizing his behavior after what had just transpired between the three of them. It was fair. Emilios had looked particularly murderous, had threatened him and neither of them had been prepared for it. She had not been thinking at all of her brother or his protective streak. She’d only had a mind for Alastor, for the feel of his lips against hers, and for the happiness that he brought her.
You can’t be here. She froze, her brows furrowing as he continued to speak. The world seemed to tilt sideways as she tried to understand what he was saying to her. Causing each other pain? She was surprisingly hurt by the words. Had she been hurting him unintentionally somehow? She couldn’t think of a single thing that he had done to hurt her in the short month or so that they’d confessed their love to each other.
”You could never hurt me.” She said in a breath, the words barely making it past her lips and dying in the air. He was speaking too fast, the words not making any sense at all to her but she felt her chest go cold. She was frozen in place, the breeze ruffling her hair as they stood just outside. He leaned against the wall, keeping his distance and she couldn’t make herself move to close the distance. Her heart squeezed painfully as she tried to make sense of what he meant -- what he was telling her even though it was obvious. He was...he was…
He wasn’t even giving her a chance to say no! The shock was giving way to an emotion she could not describe, hurt flaring in her chest as she curled her fingers into tight fists. She clutched one hand between her breasts, feeling like she might be sick. It was not as if she had asked for any of this to happen! Was he blaming her for what had happened? Did he truly think she thought any of what had just occurred was okay?
The tears welled and spilled over before she could stop them, her heart in a free fall to the soles of her feet. It may as well have fallen straight into Hades’ hands for all that she could care. She could barely hear herself over the sound of her heart breaking, shattering like a vase thrown to the ground. There were a thousand pieces...how could she pick them all up again?
”I don’t want any of it.” She choked out, her gaze pleading. He couldn’t leave her too. He couldn’t let her go this easily, not after everything. He had said that he loved her. Was that so easily tossed aside? Was she so easily tossed aside? ”Please, Alastor. None of it means anything without you.” The tears were free falling, tracking down her cheeks and dripping to mar her chiton. ”I love you.” Her throat closed as the words escaped, and she took a step forward -- willing herself to close the distance.
Her grip on him was tight, so it was the surprise alone that made her let him go. I probably scared him. She thought, rationalizing his behavior after what had just transpired between the three of them. It was fair. Emilios had looked particularly murderous, had threatened him and neither of them had been prepared for it. She had not been thinking at all of her brother or his protective streak. She’d only had a mind for Alastor, for the feel of his lips against hers, and for the happiness that he brought her.
You can’t be here. She froze, her brows furrowing as he continued to speak. The world seemed to tilt sideways as she tried to understand what he was saying to her. Causing each other pain? She was surprisingly hurt by the words. Had she been hurting him unintentionally somehow? She couldn’t think of a single thing that he had done to hurt her in the short month or so that they’d confessed their love to each other.
”You could never hurt me.” She said in a breath, the words barely making it past her lips and dying in the air. He was speaking too fast, the words not making any sense at all to her but she felt her chest go cold. She was frozen in place, the breeze ruffling her hair as they stood just outside. He leaned against the wall, keeping his distance and she couldn’t make herself move to close the distance. Her heart squeezed painfully as she tried to make sense of what he meant -- what he was telling her even though it was obvious. He was...he was…
He wasn’t even giving her a chance to say no! The shock was giving way to an emotion she could not describe, hurt flaring in her chest as she curled her fingers into tight fists. She clutched one hand between her breasts, feeling like she might be sick. It was not as if she had asked for any of this to happen! Was he blaming her for what had happened? Did he truly think she thought any of what had just occurred was okay?
The tears welled and spilled over before she could stop them, her heart in a free fall to the soles of her feet. It may as well have fallen straight into Hades’ hands for all that she could care. She could barely hear herself over the sound of her heart breaking, shattering like a vase thrown to the ground. There were a thousand pieces...how could she pick them all up again?
”I don’t want any of it.” She choked out, her gaze pleading. He couldn’t leave her too. He couldn’t let her go this easily, not after everything. He had said that he loved her. Was that so easily tossed aside? Was she so easily tossed aside? ”Please, Alastor. None of it means anything without you.” The tears were free falling, tracking down her cheeks and dripping to mar her chiton. ”I love you.” Her throat closed as the words escaped, and she took a step forward -- willing herself to close the distance.
