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It almost never was worth it to tempt the gods, Dorothea thought, reflecting on her earlier wish for some more excitement in her life. Only a few months ago, she’d been bored and sent up the smallest of wishes and finally it seemed as though the gods had granted it. In the last few days, the Dimitrou household had seen more activity than it had in months. Her brother had returned, a betrothed in tow, and the royal family of Colchis was due to arrive in a day. While the excitement was all well and good, it had kept Dorothea relatively confined to the estate. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had gone for a ride (truly only a few days ago, but it felt like forever) and was longing to spend some time outside.
For once, the household was quiet as everyone seemed to have settled into their afternoon rest. Neither Iason nor Alexa were anywhere to be seen, so Doro thought it was a good as chance as any to go for a short ride. It would be enough to feel the sun on her face for at least an hour. Maybe two. Gathering her bow, she slipped out of the house and headed toward the stables only not to find them as empty as she expected.
Spotting her father, Dorothea let out a chuckle, alerting him to her presence. “It seems we have the same idea,” she said, moving beside him. “Shall we escape together?” Her rides with Gavriil were cherished above almost all else. Spending time with him almost felt sacred. It was a time for the two of them to bond, but also test each other. Dorothea loved their friendly competition and the thrill of the hunt. It was him, Iason, and Alexa that made up her entire world. Which was perhaps why she had been longing for a little of that comfort lately. Iason’s new addition to their household had changed their dynamic and Dorothea had yet to determine if it was positive or negative.
Of course, as his sister, Dorothea was bound to protect Iason at all costs. Yet, she ought to be welcoming to a potential new family member. However, Persephone had done little so far to impress her, so Dorothea was choosing to withhold judgment. She hated to see Iason’s confusion over his engagement and the princess, but Doro put herself in the other woman’s shoes and felt the immense pain she must be suffering. To lose her family like that…Dorothea could only slightly imagine.
She was quiet, lost in thoughts, as she readied her horse for the ride. It would be nice to get her father’s opinion on all that was going on. The two of them hadn’t had a single moment alone together since her brother had returned. It was nice to be in the comfort of his presence. As they led their horses out, Dorothea forgot the issues of their family for a moment and let out a cry of pure joy, spurring her steed into a gallop, heading for the woods. Gavriil would catch up.
After a few minutes, she slowed, her father close behind her, and gave him a grin. “Sometimes I’d like to never go inside,” she commented. “How are you, father? I feel as though we’ve hardly had a moment alone since…”—she gestured her hands everywhere, indicating everything.
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It almost never was worth it to tempt the gods, Dorothea thought, reflecting on her earlier wish for some more excitement in her life. Only a few months ago, she’d been bored and sent up the smallest of wishes and finally it seemed as though the gods had granted it. In the last few days, the Dimitrou household had seen more activity than it had in months. Her brother had returned, a betrothed in tow, and the royal family of Colchis was due to arrive in a day. While the excitement was all well and good, it had kept Dorothea relatively confined to the estate. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had gone for a ride (truly only a few days ago, but it felt like forever) and was longing to spend some time outside.
For once, the household was quiet as everyone seemed to have settled into their afternoon rest. Neither Iason nor Alexa were anywhere to be seen, so Doro thought it was a good as chance as any to go for a short ride. It would be enough to feel the sun on her face for at least an hour. Maybe two. Gathering her bow, she slipped out of the house and headed toward the stables only not to find them as empty as she expected.
Spotting her father, Dorothea let out a chuckle, alerting him to her presence. “It seems we have the same idea,” she said, moving beside him. “Shall we escape together?” Her rides with Gavriil were cherished above almost all else. Spending time with him almost felt sacred. It was a time for the two of them to bond, but also test each other. Dorothea loved their friendly competition and the thrill of the hunt. It was him, Iason, and Alexa that made up her entire world. Which was perhaps why she had been longing for a little of that comfort lately. Iason’s new addition to their household had changed their dynamic and Dorothea had yet to determine if it was positive or negative.
Of course, as his sister, Dorothea was bound to protect Iason at all costs. Yet, she ought to be welcoming to a potential new family member. However, Persephone had done little so far to impress her, so Dorothea was choosing to withhold judgment. She hated to see Iason’s confusion over his engagement and the princess, but Doro put herself in the other woman’s shoes and felt the immense pain she must be suffering. To lose her family like that…Dorothea could only slightly imagine.
She was quiet, lost in thoughts, as she readied her horse for the ride. It would be nice to get her father’s opinion on all that was going on. The two of them hadn’t had a single moment alone together since her brother had returned. It was nice to be in the comfort of his presence. As they led their horses out, Dorothea forgot the issues of their family for a moment and let out a cry of pure joy, spurring her steed into a gallop, heading for the woods. Gavriil would catch up.
After a few minutes, she slowed, her father close behind her, and gave him a grin. “Sometimes I’d like to never go inside,” she commented. “How are you, father? I feel as though we’ve hardly had a moment alone since…”—she gestured her hands everywhere, indicating everything.
It almost never was worth it to tempt the gods, Dorothea thought, reflecting on her earlier wish for some more excitement in her life. Only a few months ago, she’d been bored and sent up the smallest of wishes and finally it seemed as though the gods had granted it. In the last few days, the Dimitrou household had seen more activity than it had in months. Her brother had returned, a betrothed in tow, and the royal family of Colchis was due to arrive in a day. While the excitement was all well and good, it had kept Dorothea relatively confined to the estate. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had gone for a ride (truly only a few days ago, but it felt like forever) and was longing to spend some time outside.
For once, the household was quiet as everyone seemed to have settled into their afternoon rest. Neither Iason nor Alexa were anywhere to be seen, so Doro thought it was a good as chance as any to go for a short ride. It would be enough to feel the sun on her face for at least an hour. Maybe two. Gathering her bow, she slipped out of the house and headed toward the stables only not to find them as empty as she expected.
Spotting her father, Dorothea let out a chuckle, alerting him to her presence. “It seems we have the same idea,” she said, moving beside him. “Shall we escape together?” Her rides with Gavriil were cherished above almost all else. Spending time with him almost felt sacred. It was a time for the two of them to bond, but also test each other. Dorothea loved their friendly competition and the thrill of the hunt. It was him, Iason, and Alexa that made up her entire world. Which was perhaps why she had been longing for a little of that comfort lately. Iason’s new addition to their household had changed their dynamic and Dorothea had yet to determine if it was positive or negative.
Of course, as his sister, Dorothea was bound to protect Iason at all costs. Yet, she ought to be welcoming to a potential new family member. However, Persephone had done little so far to impress her, so Dorothea was choosing to withhold judgment. She hated to see Iason’s confusion over his engagement and the princess, but Doro put herself in the other woman’s shoes and felt the immense pain she must be suffering. To lose her family like that…Dorothea could only slightly imagine.
She was quiet, lost in thoughts, as she readied her horse for the ride. It would be nice to get her father’s opinion on all that was going on. The two of them hadn’t had a single moment alone together since her brother had returned. It was nice to be in the comfort of his presence. As they led their horses out, Dorothea forgot the issues of their family for a moment and let out a cry of pure joy, spurring her steed into a gallop, heading for the woods. Gavriil would catch up.
After a few minutes, she slowed, her father close behind her, and gave him a grin. “Sometimes I’d like to never go inside,” she commented. “How are you, father? I feel as though we’ve hardly had a moment alone since…”—she gestured her hands everywhere, indicating everything.
The morning might have been awkward but Gavriil hadn’t put himself in either Iason or Persephone’s way purposefully much. Mostly he kept to his study, pouring over a few of the more troubling reports of late. Someone had written that Creed had been seen among the crops in a nearby village. But this was the only report. Did that mean that it wasn’t real? Or perhaps someone playing a trick? Either way, he would need to ride down to investigate, but not yet. There weren’t enough of the reports to make the whole thing either credible or time sensitive. It could have been a cloaked figure someone saw not very clearly in the dusk.
By the time that he’d sifted through the missives and letters that had been lain upon his desk, and had answered a good many of them, his hand was cramping from so much writing. When he looked, he was not at all surprised that the room was bright with afternoon sun and that he’d missed breakfast. With a sigh, he stood up and stretched. The letters always needed answered but he would have preferred to go either riding or hunting this morning.
Perhaps tomorrow. It was too late in the day for any real hunting to be done - big game, anyway, but it was not too late for a ride. His personal preference was to be outdoors as much as possible. The wind and the sun and the trees did wonders for clearing the mind and invigorating the soul. Glancing out the window behind him, he ducked a little so that he could see the sky. It was achingly blue. With the wind swishing the leaves on the trees outside, he took in a deep breath.
He strode out into the corridor, not meeting any of his children, their entourage, or servants. It was as though people were sleeping or had found things to do elsewhere. His house was low ceiled and could be rather shadowed at times, especially in the halls. It also boasted two wide courtyards, one in front, and one in the back. The front courtyard housed a large statue of Artemis, that he and his family and servants prayed to daily. The back courtyard was were the stables were and it was into this one that he emerged.
There were several horses, owned by the Dimitrous. An old, gentle mare that belonged to his deceased wife poked her nose out to him as he passed her stall. Gavriil stopped and petted the mare’s velvet nose, knowing the old horse would likely not make it another two seasons. He kept her in the stables nearly all of the time now and she didn’t seem to mind. His own horse was a dependable, middle aged gelding, who was trained to hunt as well as pleasure ride. It was the latter that they would be doing today.
Because he’d met no servants, there’d been no one to send ahead of him to prepare the horse but it was fine. He did not mind to do it himself and began the task of brushing the horse down before affixing the green and gold saddle blanket onto the horse’s back, and then the saddle. So focused was he in his task that until Dorothea spoke, he did not know she was there.
He turned as she moved up beside him and lifted an arm for her to give him a side hug. She asked if they could ride together and he nodded with a smile, turning back to finish readying his mount. Taking his horse by the bridle, he checked with her if she was ready to go and walked out with her into the courtyard and blinding sun. Like the wild thing she was, his daughter swung up onto her horse, let out a “Whoop!” and was gone.
There were times when he did not feel his age. Being around Dorothea did not make him feel ancient or wise; she made him feel like he was every bit as youthful as she. In nearly the same amount of time, he was up on his horse’s back and galloping along behind her. The two horses pounded across the flag stones and out into the woods, one right after the other in two black and brown blurs.
Once she’d slowed enough for speech, she admitted what he’d already been thinking earlier; that she would have liked to practically live outside. “We are one in the same in that, I expect,” he said, returning her smile and reining his horse to fall just a little behind hers. The path wasn’t quite big enough for them to ride side by side. At her question of how he was and the observation that they’d had very little time, he merely nodded.
“I’m well, physically. A bit concerned. You’re not to tell your brother that. I’ve already spoken with him. Iason’s a grown man. He knows his own mind.” The last thing he wanted was for Dorothea to go telling Iason that Gavriil still had serious reservations. He knew his daughter wasn’t a gossip but Iason and Dorothea were close. If Dorothea told Iason anything at all, he expected it would come from a place of heartfelt concern for her brother's welfare and not to harm him. Still. Some opinions did not bear repeating.
“I wanted to commend you on how well you’ve done around the queen. Sharing your clothes and the like. This has been a bit unorthodox for everyone but we’ll muddle through.”
Though in truth he hoped they’d have to ‘muddle’ nothing. It felt as though Athenia’s problems were being added to the ones he was already having to deal with in Taengea.
The path they were on was one they rode often. It branched every so often and he pointed out a turn he'd like her to take coming up. This would take them down some pretty tricky terrain but it ended at a waterfall that he hadn't checked on in at least a month. There were flowers that grew around that particular waterfall that had a nice healing effect for the mind when made into tea. His idea was that probably the whole family could do with some of it.
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The morning might have been awkward but Gavriil hadn’t put himself in either Iason or Persephone’s way purposefully much. Mostly he kept to his study, pouring over a few of the more troubling reports of late. Someone had written that Creed had been seen among the crops in a nearby village. But this was the only report. Did that mean that it wasn’t real? Or perhaps someone playing a trick? Either way, he would need to ride down to investigate, but not yet. There weren’t enough of the reports to make the whole thing either credible or time sensitive. It could have been a cloaked figure someone saw not very clearly in the dusk.
By the time that he’d sifted through the missives and letters that had been lain upon his desk, and had answered a good many of them, his hand was cramping from so much writing. When he looked, he was not at all surprised that the room was bright with afternoon sun and that he’d missed breakfast. With a sigh, he stood up and stretched. The letters always needed answered but he would have preferred to go either riding or hunting this morning.
Perhaps tomorrow. It was too late in the day for any real hunting to be done - big game, anyway, but it was not too late for a ride. His personal preference was to be outdoors as much as possible. The wind and the sun and the trees did wonders for clearing the mind and invigorating the soul. Glancing out the window behind him, he ducked a little so that he could see the sky. It was achingly blue. With the wind swishing the leaves on the trees outside, he took in a deep breath.
He strode out into the corridor, not meeting any of his children, their entourage, or servants. It was as though people were sleeping or had found things to do elsewhere. His house was low ceiled and could be rather shadowed at times, especially in the halls. It also boasted two wide courtyards, one in front, and one in the back. The front courtyard housed a large statue of Artemis, that he and his family and servants prayed to daily. The back courtyard was were the stables were and it was into this one that he emerged.
There were several horses, owned by the Dimitrous. An old, gentle mare that belonged to his deceased wife poked her nose out to him as he passed her stall. Gavriil stopped and petted the mare’s velvet nose, knowing the old horse would likely not make it another two seasons. He kept her in the stables nearly all of the time now and she didn’t seem to mind. His own horse was a dependable, middle aged gelding, who was trained to hunt as well as pleasure ride. It was the latter that they would be doing today.
Because he’d met no servants, there’d been no one to send ahead of him to prepare the horse but it was fine. He did not mind to do it himself and began the task of brushing the horse down before affixing the green and gold saddle blanket onto the horse’s back, and then the saddle. So focused was he in his task that until Dorothea spoke, he did not know she was there.
He turned as she moved up beside him and lifted an arm for her to give him a side hug. She asked if they could ride together and he nodded with a smile, turning back to finish readying his mount. Taking his horse by the bridle, he checked with her if she was ready to go and walked out with her into the courtyard and blinding sun. Like the wild thing she was, his daughter swung up onto her horse, let out a “Whoop!” and was gone.
There were times when he did not feel his age. Being around Dorothea did not make him feel ancient or wise; she made him feel like he was every bit as youthful as she. In nearly the same amount of time, he was up on his horse’s back and galloping along behind her. The two horses pounded across the flag stones and out into the woods, one right after the other in two black and brown blurs.
Once she’d slowed enough for speech, she admitted what he’d already been thinking earlier; that she would have liked to practically live outside. “We are one in the same in that, I expect,” he said, returning her smile and reining his horse to fall just a little behind hers. The path wasn’t quite big enough for them to ride side by side. At her question of how he was and the observation that they’d had very little time, he merely nodded.
“I’m well, physically. A bit concerned. You’re not to tell your brother that. I’ve already spoken with him. Iason’s a grown man. He knows his own mind.” The last thing he wanted was for Dorothea to go telling Iason that Gavriil still had serious reservations. He knew his daughter wasn’t a gossip but Iason and Dorothea were close. If Dorothea told Iason anything at all, he expected it would come from a place of heartfelt concern for her brother's welfare and not to harm him. Still. Some opinions did not bear repeating.
“I wanted to commend you on how well you’ve done around the queen. Sharing your clothes and the like. This has been a bit unorthodox for everyone but we’ll muddle through.”
Though in truth he hoped they’d have to ‘muddle’ nothing. It felt as though Athenia’s problems were being added to the ones he was already having to deal with in Taengea.
The path they were on was one they rode often. It branched every so often and he pointed out a turn he'd like her to take coming up. This would take them down some pretty tricky terrain but it ended at a waterfall that he hadn't checked on in at least a month. There were flowers that grew around that particular waterfall that had a nice healing effect for the mind when made into tea. His idea was that probably the whole family could do with some of it.
The morning might have been awkward but Gavriil hadn’t put himself in either Iason or Persephone’s way purposefully much. Mostly he kept to his study, pouring over a few of the more troubling reports of late. Someone had written that Creed had been seen among the crops in a nearby village. But this was the only report. Did that mean that it wasn’t real? Or perhaps someone playing a trick? Either way, he would need to ride down to investigate, but not yet. There weren’t enough of the reports to make the whole thing either credible or time sensitive. It could have been a cloaked figure someone saw not very clearly in the dusk.
By the time that he’d sifted through the missives and letters that had been lain upon his desk, and had answered a good many of them, his hand was cramping from so much writing. When he looked, he was not at all surprised that the room was bright with afternoon sun and that he’d missed breakfast. With a sigh, he stood up and stretched. The letters always needed answered but he would have preferred to go either riding or hunting this morning.
Perhaps tomorrow. It was too late in the day for any real hunting to be done - big game, anyway, but it was not too late for a ride. His personal preference was to be outdoors as much as possible. The wind and the sun and the trees did wonders for clearing the mind and invigorating the soul. Glancing out the window behind him, he ducked a little so that he could see the sky. It was achingly blue. With the wind swishing the leaves on the trees outside, he took in a deep breath.
He strode out into the corridor, not meeting any of his children, their entourage, or servants. It was as though people were sleeping or had found things to do elsewhere. His house was low ceiled and could be rather shadowed at times, especially in the halls. It also boasted two wide courtyards, one in front, and one in the back. The front courtyard housed a large statue of Artemis, that he and his family and servants prayed to daily. The back courtyard was were the stables were and it was into this one that he emerged.
There were several horses, owned by the Dimitrous. An old, gentle mare that belonged to his deceased wife poked her nose out to him as he passed her stall. Gavriil stopped and petted the mare’s velvet nose, knowing the old horse would likely not make it another two seasons. He kept her in the stables nearly all of the time now and she didn’t seem to mind. His own horse was a dependable, middle aged gelding, who was trained to hunt as well as pleasure ride. It was the latter that they would be doing today.
Because he’d met no servants, there’d been no one to send ahead of him to prepare the horse but it was fine. He did not mind to do it himself and began the task of brushing the horse down before affixing the green and gold saddle blanket onto the horse’s back, and then the saddle. So focused was he in his task that until Dorothea spoke, he did not know she was there.
He turned as she moved up beside him and lifted an arm for her to give him a side hug. She asked if they could ride together and he nodded with a smile, turning back to finish readying his mount. Taking his horse by the bridle, he checked with her if she was ready to go and walked out with her into the courtyard and blinding sun. Like the wild thing she was, his daughter swung up onto her horse, let out a “Whoop!” and was gone.
There were times when he did not feel his age. Being around Dorothea did not make him feel ancient or wise; she made him feel like he was every bit as youthful as she. In nearly the same amount of time, he was up on his horse’s back and galloping along behind her. The two horses pounded across the flag stones and out into the woods, one right after the other in two black and brown blurs.
Once she’d slowed enough for speech, she admitted what he’d already been thinking earlier; that she would have liked to practically live outside. “We are one in the same in that, I expect,” he said, returning her smile and reining his horse to fall just a little behind hers. The path wasn’t quite big enough for them to ride side by side. At her question of how he was and the observation that they’d had very little time, he merely nodded.
“I’m well, physically. A bit concerned. You’re not to tell your brother that. I’ve already spoken with him. Iason’s a grown man. He knows his own mind.” The last thing he wanted was for Dorothea to go telling Iason that Gavriil still had serious reservations. He knew his daughter wasn’t a gossip but Iason and Dorothea were close. If Dorothea told Iason anything at all, he expected it would come from a place of heartfelt concern for her brother's welfare and not to harm him. Still. Some opinions did not bear repeating.
“I wanted to commend you on how well you’ve done around the queen. Sharing your clothes and the like. This has been a bit unorthodox for everyone but we’ll muddle through.”
Though in truth he hoped they’d have to ‘muddle’ nothing. It felt as though Athenia’s problems were being added to the ones he was already having to deal with in Taengea.
The path they were on was one they rode often. It branched every so often and he pointed out a turn he'd like her to take coming up. This would take them down some pretty tricky terrain but it ended at a waterfall that he hadn't checked on in at least a month. There were flowers that grew around that particular waterfall that had a nice healing effect for the mind when made into tea. His idea was that probably the whole family could do with some of it.
A moment in her father’s embrace was enough to warm her heart. He was her greatest source of comfort and had always been. She was old enough to remember her mother’s embrace, but now more time had passed in the company of her father alone than she had ever had with her mother. It was small moments like these where her thoughts led her to sadness. Sometimes every moment she didn’t think of her mother and was reminded of it felt like a moment of betrayal. Yet, she knew that her mother would want her to live her life full of joy and happiness. And so, perhaps in some ways, that was why Dorothea lived the way she did.
Spurring her gelding on, Dorothea relished the wind whipping through her hair, vast strands of it coming out of her braid. She was normally so careful, tying it tight, when she knew she would go riding, but the trip had been rather impromptu. An escape from their home was exactly what she needed today, with everything that had been going on. And it was only likely to get busier, with the arrival of the party from Colchis due in the next day or so. While Dorothea looked forward to some of the excitement that came with guests, she was also reminded of her need for solitude and quiet. It was always brought out best when she was surrounded by people.
Finally, Dorothea slowed, gently patting her horse, grateful for the run. They both dearly loved to exercise, which made for a good pairing. And he was young enough that she could push him as hard as she liked. She smiled widely at her father’s response, taking the lead as he indicated. Yes, they truly were so similar. Perhaps even more so than Gavriil and Iason in some ways. Though the entire Dimitrou clan was eerily alike, yet she wouldn’t have had it any other way. There were no games with them and they all knew where they stood with each other.
Except perhaps, in this case. Persephone of Xanthos had thrown everything off balance. One moment Iason was seemingly calling off the engagement, then next he was seemingly calling it back on. It was all rather confusing. Dorothea took a moment to look back at her father as he said he was doing well physically. He seemed well enough, but she couldn’t help but watch him carefully, looking for hints that his injury was bothering him. This was a simple ride, but still she worried.
She caught his expression as he mentioned Iason before turning back around. Yes, she too was concerned. “Of course not,” she replied, intending to keep his confidence. “Though I’ve yet to decide if I agree with you. It seems as though he is content to change his mind.” She had yet to fully make up her mind on Persephone, though she could certainly sympathize with the young queen. The woman certainly wasn’t in her right mind, nor should she be having gone through such a traumatic event. She just didn’t want to see Iason hurt.
“I only hope more trouble won’t befall him,” Dorothea added, glancing back at her father again. “It seems to be following him.”
Despite her father’s compliment, his next sentence drove a little laugh out of her. Unorthodox was certainly right. “It’s not a problem,” she replied. “I have too many clothes as it is. Though I promise not to give away all my best robes. I’ll keep at least one.” Dorothea grinned, joking only slightly. She loved a more practical style and would only wear that if she had the opportunity. Unfortunately, as a noble lady, even one as wild as she, Dorothea had obligations. Some of which were due to occur.
She hesitated, not sure which topic she wished to speak about more. Finally, she settled on their upcoming and expected guests. The ride would last awhile yet. She could return to her brother. “What do you know of the royal family of Colchis?” she asked. Although she was well versed herself, she still liked to hear her father’s insights. They would soon be approaching her favorite waterfall, but here was one place she could not rush. The terrain was tricky, but her horse knew the way. Soon, they could relax in the peace of nature.
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A moment in her father’s embrace was enough to warm her heart. He was her greatest source of comfort and had always been. She was old enough to remember her mother’s embrace, but now more time had passed in the company of her father alone than she had ever had with her mother. It was small moments like these where her thoughts led her to sadness. Sometimes every moment she didn’t think of her mother and was reminded of it felt like a moment of betrayal. Yet, she knew that her mother would want her to live her life full of joy and happiness. And so, perhaps in some ways, that was why Dorothea lived the way she did.
Spurring her gelding on, Dorothea relished the wind whipping through her hair, vast strands of it coming out of her braid. She was normally so careful, tying it tight, when she knew she would go riding, but the trip had been rather impromptu. An escape from their home was exactly what she needed today, with everything that had been going on. And it was only likely to get busier, with the arrival of the party from Colchis due in the next day or so. While Dorothea looked forward to some of the excitement that came with guests, she was also reminded of her need for solitude and quiet. It was always brought out best when she was surrounded by people.
Finally, Dorothea slowed, gently patting her horse, grateful for the run. They both dearly loved to exercise, which made for a good pairing. And he was young enough that she could push him as hard as she liked. She smiled widely at her father’s response, taking the lead as he indicated. Yes, they truly were so similar. Perhaps even more so than Gavriil and Iason in some ways. Though the entire Dimitrou clan was eerily alike, yet she wouldn’t have had it any other way. There were no games with them and they all knew where they stood with each other.
Except perhaps, in this case. Persephone of Xanthos had thrown everything off balance. One moment Iason was seemingly calling off the engagement, then next he was seemingly calling it back on. It was all rather confusing. Dorothea took a moment to look back at her father as he said he was doing well physically. He seemed well enough, but she couldn’t help but watch him carefully, looking for hints that his injury was bothering him. This was a simple ride, but still she worried.
She caught his expression as he mentioned Iason before turning back around. Yes, she too was concerned. “Of course not,” she replied, intending to keep his confidence. “Though I’ve yet to decide if I agree with you. It seems as though he is content to change his mind.” She had yet to fully make up her mind on Persephone, though she could certainly sympathize with the young queen. The woman certainly wasn’t in her right mind, nor should she be having gone through such a traumatic event. She just didn’t want to see Iason hurt.
“I only hope more trouble won’t befall him,” Dorothea added, glancing back at her father again. “It seems to be following him.”
Despite her father’s compliment, his next sentence drove a little laugh out of her. Unorthodox was certainly right. “It’s not a problem,” she replied. “I have too many clothes as it is. Though I promise not to give away all my best robes. I’ll keep at least one.” Dorothea grinned, joking only slightly. She loved a more practical style and would only wear that if she had the opportunity. Unfortunately, as a noble lady, even one as wild as she, Dorothea had obligations. Some of which were due to occur.
She hesitated, not sure which topic she wished to speak about more. Finally, she settled on their upcoming and expected guests. The ride would last awhile yet. She could return to her brother. “What do you know of the royal family of Colchis?” she asked. Although she was well versed herself, she still liked to hear her father’s insights. They would soon be approaching her favorite waterfall, but here was one place she could not rush. The terrain was tricky, but her horse knew the way. Soon, they could relax in the peace of nature.
A moment in her father’s embrace was enough to warm her heart. He was her greatest source of comfort and had always been. She was old enough to remember her mother’s embrace, but now more time had passed in the company of her father alone than she had ever had with her mother. It was small moments like these where her thoughts led her to sadness. Sometimes every moment she didn’t think of her mother and was reminded of it felt like a moment of betrayal. Yet, she knew that her mother would want her to live her life full of joy and happiness. And so, perhaps in some ways, that was why Dorothea lived the way she did.
Spurring her gelding on, Dorothea relished the wind whipping through her hair, vast strands of it coming out of her braid. She was normally so careful, tying it tight, when she knew she would go riding, but the trip had been rather impromptu. An escape from their home was exactly what she needed today, with everything that had been going on. And it was only likely to get busier, with the arrival of the party from Colchis due in the next day or so. While Dorothea looked forward to some of the excitement that came with guests, she was also reminded of her need for solitude and quiet. It was always brought out best when she was surrounded by people.
Finally, Dorothea slowed, gently patting her horse, grateful for the run. They both dearly loved to exercise, which made for a good pairing. And he was young enough that she could push him as hard as she liked. She smiled widely at her father’s response, taking the lead as he indicated. Yes, they truly were so similar. Perhaps even more so than Gavriil and Iason in some ways. Though the entire Dimitrou clan was eerily alike, yet she wouldn’t have had it any other way. There were no games with them and they all knew where they stood with each other.
Except perhaps, in this case. Persephone of Xanthos had thrown everything off balance. One moment Iason was seemingly calling off the engagement, then next he was seemingly calling it back on. It was all rather confusing. Dorothea took a moment to look back at her father as he said he was doing well physically. He seemed well enough, but she couldn’t help but watch him carefully, looking for hints that his injury was bothering him. This was a simple ride, but still she worried.
She caught his expression as he mentioned Iason before turning back around. Yes, she too was concerned. “Of course not,” she replied, intending to keep his confidence. “Though I’ve yet to decide if I agree with you. It seems as though he is content to change his mind.” She had yet to fully make up her mind on Persephone, though she could certainly sympathize with the young queen. The woman certainly wasn’t in her right mind, nor should she be having gone through such a traumatic event. She just didn’t want to see Iason hurt.
“I only hope more trouble won’t befall him,” Dorothea added, glancing back at her father again. “It seems to be following him.”
Despite her father’s compliment, his next sentence drove a little laugh out of her. Unorthodox was certainly right. “It’s not a problem,” she replied. “I have too many clothes as it is. Though I promise not to give away all my best robes. I’ll keep at least one.” Dorothea grinned, joking only slightly. She loved a more practical style and would only wear that if she had the opportunity. Unfortunately, as a noble lady, even one as wild as she, Dorothea had obligations. Some of which were due to occur.
She hesitated, not sure which topic she wished to speak about more. Finally, she settled on their upcoming and expected guests. The ride would last awhile yet. She could return to her brother. “What do you know of the royal family of Colchis?” she asked. Although she was well versed herself, she still liked to hear her father’s insights. They would soon be approaching her favorite waterfall, but here was one place she could not rush. The terrain was tricky, but her horse knew the way. Soon, they could relax in the peace of nature.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have been as indulgent with her as he was, concerning her opinions on both her brother and the world at large. However, he liked to hear what she was thinking. If he quashed her every opinion and thought that contradicted either himself or another man, then he felt that she would become an incredibly boring woman indeed. ...though it was becoming very apparent that he was alone in these thoughts. Dorothea was no more closer to marriage than he himself was and he was beginning to fear that she would be his constant companion until he died. This, of course, was not to say that he did not desire her company - he just wanted more for her, as he wanted for Iason.
His son, at least, would be married soon, and provide their line with children, siring another generation. Dorothea, it seemed, did not want the joy that children could bring. If she did, she was hiding it very well. There were no suitors for him to listen to her complain about. Instead, they were here, riding in the forest, discussing only Iason’s future.
When she expressed a hope that her brother would have no more trouble, Gavriil shook his head sharply against this notion. “That is the one thing you can count on, dear one. There will always be trouble for him. For us. It is the will of the gods.” He let his horse pick his way over the trail and had to stop talking for just a second when his mount drifted too close to one of the trees. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that he was trying to crush his leg.
Once they were past that little issue, he continued. “The gods do not want us to become too complacent. We must grow. Learn.”
He smiled hugely when Dorothea offered to get rid of all her best dresses save one and shook his head against this. “No need!” The reason, he felt that she was so willing to do this, was that she didn’t want to go back to Vasiliadon to find a husband. Too bad. “You’ll need those for court. And besides, Persephone is a bit of a different shape. I’ve already promised her her own little wardrobe. I thank you for being so kindly,” he added drily. “It is not necessary.”
“Royal family of Colchis?” he swiveled to look at her. “Your cousins, you mean? I don’t know any of them very well. I’ve only met the prince once or twice, years ago.” He didn’t have to outline to her that her aunt was queen of Colchis. That wasn’t what she was asking. He assumed she was asking if they were going to be as interesting as their Athenian guest was being.
“I wouldn’t expect your cousin to be overly warm and welcoming,” he said and then a thought occurred to him and he brought his horse right up next to hers. “You know...the crown prince of Colchis is a warrior, Dorothea. Perhaps...you might discuss archery with him? I believe he would admire your skills as much as any man in Greece…”
If Dorothea could manage to get married to Prince Vangelis, he would rest much easier at night, knowing she was under the careful watch of her aunt and he felt that she would be happy in such a union. It wasn’t as though the prince was home overly much.
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Perhaps he shouldn’t have been as indulgent with her as he was, concerning her opinions on both her brother and the world at large. However, he liked to hear what she was thinking. If he quashed her every opinion and thought that contradicted either himself or another man, then he felt that she would become an incredibly boring woman indeed. ...though it was becoming very apparent that he was alone in these thoughts. Dorothea was no more closer to marriage than he himself was and he was beginning to fear that she would be his constant companion until he died. This, of course, was not to say that he did not desire her company - he just wanted more for her, as he wanted for Iason.
His son, at least, would be married soon, and provide their line with children, siring another generation. Dorothea, it seemed, did not want the joy that children could bring. If she did, she was hiding it very well. There were no suitors for him to listen to her complain about. Instead, they were here, riding in the forest, discussing only Iason’s future.
When she expressed a hope that her brother would have no more trouble, Gavriil shook his head sharply against this notion. “That is the one thing you can count on, dear one. There will always be trouble for him. For us. It is the will of the gods.” He let his horse pick his way over the trail and had to stop talking for just a second when his mount drifted too close to one of the trees. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that he was trying to crush his leg.
Once they were past that little issue, he continued. “The gods do not want us to become too complacent. We must grow. Learn.”
He smiled hugely when Dorothea offered to get rid of all her best dresses save one and shook his head against this. “No need!” The reason, he felt that she was so willing to do this, was that she didn’t want to go back to Vasiliadon to find a husband. Too bad. “You’ll need those for court. And besides, Persephone is a bit of a different shape. I’ve already promised her her own little wardrobe. I thank you for being so kindly,” he added drily. “It is not necessary.”
“Royal family of Colchis?” he swiveled to look at her. “Your cousins, you mean? I don’t know any of them very well. I’ve only met the prince once or twice, years ago.” He didn’t have to outline to her that her aunt was queen of Colchis. That wasn’t what she was asking. He assumed she was asking if they were going to be as interesting as their Athenian guest was being.
“I wouldn’t expect your cousin to be overly warm and welcoming,” he said and then a thought occurred to him and he brought his horse right up next to hers. “You know...the crown prince of Colchis is a warrior, Dorothea. Perhaps...you might discuss archery with him? I believe he would admire your skills as much as any man in Greece…”
If Dorothea could manage to get married to Prince Vangelis, he would rest much easier at night, knowing she was under the careful watch of her aunt and he felt that she would be happy in such a union. It wasn’t as though the prince was home overly much.
Perhaps he shouldn’t have been as indulgent with her as he was, concerning her opinions on both her brother and the world at large. However, he liked to hear what she was thinking. If he quashed her every opinion and thought that contradicted either himself or another man, then he felt that she would become an incredibly boring woman indeed. ...though it was becoming very apparent that he was alone in these thoughts. Dorothea was no more closer to marriage than he himself was and he was beginning to fear that she would be his constant companion until he died. This, of course, was not to say that he did not desire her company - he just wanted more for her, as he wanted for Iason.
His son, at least, would be married soon, and provide their line with children, siring another generation. Dorothea, it seemed, did not want the joy that children could bring. If she did, she was hiding it very well. There were no suitors for him to listen to her complain about. Instead, they were here, riding in the forest, discussing only Iason’s future.
When she expressed a hope that her brother would have no more trouble, Gavriil shook his head sharply against this notion. “That is the one thing you can count on, dear one. There will always be trouble for him. For us. It is the will of the gods.” He let his horse pick his way over the trail and had to stop talking for just a second when his mount drifted too close to one of the trees. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that he was trying to crush his leg.
Once they were past that little issue, he continued. “The gods do not want us to become too complacent. We must grow. Learn.”
He smiled hugely when Dorothea offered to get rid of all her best dresses save one and shook his head against this. “No need!” The reason, he felt that she was so willing to do this, was that she didn’t want to go back to Vasiliadon to find a husband. Too bad. “You’ll need those for court. And besides, Persephone is a bit of a different shape. I’ve already promised her her own little wardrobe. I thank you for being so kindly,” he added drily. “It is not necessary.”
“Royal family of Colchis?” he swiveled to look at her. “Your cousins, you mean? I don’t know any of them very well. I’ve only met the prince once or twice, years ago.” He didn’t have to outline to her that her aunt was queen of Colchis. That wasn’t what she was asking. He assumed she was asking if they were going to be as interesting as their Athenian guest was being.
“I wouldn’t expect your cousin to be overly warm and welcoming,” he said and then a thought occurred to him and he brought his horse right up next to hers. “You know...the crown prince of Colchis is a warrior, Dorothea. Perhaps...you might discuss archery with him? I believe he would admire your skills as much as any man in Greece…”
If Dorothea could manage to get married to Prince Vangelis, he would rest much easier at night, knowing she was under the careful watch of her aunt and he felt that she would be happy in such a union. It wasn’t as though the prince was home overly much.
Sadly, it seemed her father would be right about the trouble. She was certain of it herself, yet still felt she must hope for the best. With Iason’s situation, she felt there would be no rest for their family soon. Simply put, there were too many unknowns. Dorothea wasn’t completely convinced that Persephone wouldn’t want to return to Athenia and drag her brother with her to a certain death. She understood the lady’s right to what was hers, but it certainly wasn’t Iason’s and never would be. Dorothea felt she would do all she could to ensure that if Persephone decided to make the return, Iason wouldn’t follow. Of course, that was thinking much too far in the future and she wasn’t ready to worry her father with such thoughts yet. For the time being, she would simply watch and wait to see what would unfold.
“As always, your optimism astounds me, Pappa,” she smiled at him, her tone light. “Though of course, I don’t disagree though I wish it wasn’t so. I suppose this is what happens when I wish for something more exciting to come and disrupt our lives.”
Her horse did much of the leading for her, intimately familiar with the trail that they were taking. She and her father had been down this path what probably amounted to hundreds of times, her loyal steed joining them on every trip. She nodded wisely at her father’s statement. Yes, she supposed that he was right. One could only learn through action, not simply thought. For all she experienced in her books, there was no true substitute for real life.
As expected, he rejected her offer to give all her dresses away, causing Dorothea to chuckle slightly. “Ah, my pleasure, truly,” she intoned. “I had thought Persephone was fitting just fine into my dresses, but I must compliment your generosity at providing her with her own wardrobe. How kind, Pappa.” Their dry humor was excellent today, apparently, though it was certainly all meant in good humor. She didn’t begrudge him for wanting her to be in court, nor would he for her joking manner surrounding her desire to get rid of her outfits.
Their horses hit a level part of the trail before another descent, giving Gavriil enough time to spin his in his saddle. “Yes, my cousins,” she replied, shaking her head. She had met them even fewer times than her father, generally removing any familial connection that she may have felt for them. This was why she was asking about them in the first place. Another question formed, but before she could ask it, her father proposed an idea even more ridiculous than she could have imagined. Only her immense respect for him and her sympathetic (yet unyielding) understanding of his thoughts on her situation kept her from bursting out laughing in an all too unlady like manner.
Their horses were right next to each other, she was only inches from her father. And so she looked down, fighting the enormous smile that was threating to take over her face. Only when she glanced up to see her father’s overeager face at the prospect of her marriage to the crown prince of Colchis, did she let out a giggle.
“Ah yes, I’m sure my archery skills will lure him in as they have done for every other suitor I’ve had,” she managed to reply when her giggles were under control. “Really, Pappa? The crown prince of Colchis? Don’t you think that’s aiming rather high?”
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Sadly, it seemed her father would be right about the trouble. She was certain of it herself, yet still felt she must hope for the best. With Iason’s situation, she felt there would be no rest for their family soon. Simply put, there were too many unknowns. Dorothea wasn’t completely convinced that Persephone wouldn’t want to return to Athenia and drag her brother with her to a certain death. She understood the lady’s right to what was hers, but it certainly wasn’t Iason’s and never would be. Dorothea felt she would do all she could to ensure that if Persephone decided to make the return, Iason wouldn’t follow. Of course, that was thinking much too far in the future and she wasn’t ready to worry her father with such thoughts yet. For the time being, she would simply watch and wait to see what would unfold.
“As always, your optimism astounds me, Pappa,” she smiled at him, her tone light. “Though of course, I don’t disagree though I wish it wasn’t so. I suppose this is what happens when I wish for something more exciting to come and disrupt our lives.”
Her horse did much of the leading for her, intimately familiar with the trail that they were taking. She and her father had been down this path what probably amounted to hundreds of times, her loyal steed joining them on every trip. She nodded wisely at her father’s statement. Yes, she supposed that he was right. One could only learn through action, not simply thought. For all she experienced in her books, there was no true substitute for real life.
As expected, he rejected her offer to give all her dresses away, causing Dorothea to chuckle slightly. “Ah, my pleasure, truly,” she intoned. “I had thought Persephone was fitting just fine into my dresses, but I must compliment your generosity at providing her with her own wardrobe. How kind, Pappa.” Their dry humor was excellent today, apparently, though it was certainly all meant in good humor. She didn’t begrudge him for wanting her to be in court, nor would he for her joking manner surrounding her desire to get rid of her outfits.
Their horses hit a level part of the trail before another descent, giving Gavriil enough time to spin his in his saddle. “Yes, my cousins,” she replied, shaking her head. She had met them even fewer times than her father, generally removing any familial connection that she may have felt for them. This was why she was asking about them in the first place. Another question formed, but before she could ask it, her father proposed an idea even more ridiculous than she could have imagined. Only her immense respect for him and her sympathetic (yet unyielding) understanding of his thoughts on her situation kept her from bursting out laughing in an all too unlady like manner.
Their horses were right next to each other, she was only inches from her father. And so she looked down, fighting the enormous smile that was threating to take over her face. Only when she glanced up to see her father’s overeager face at the prospect of her marriage to the crown prince of Colchis, did she let out a giggle.
“Ah yes, I’m sure my archery skills will lure him in as they have done for every other suitor I’ve had,” she managed to reply when her giggles were under control. “Really, Pappa? The crown prince of Colchis? Don’t you think that’s aiming rather high?”
Sadly, it seemed her father would be right about the trouble. She was certain of it herself, yet still felt she must hope for the best. With Iason’s situation, she felt there would be no rest for their family soon. Simply put, there were too many unknowns. Dorothea wasn’t completely convinced that Persephone wouldn’t want to return to Athenia and drag her brother with her to a certain death. She understood the lady’s right to what was hers, but it certainly wasn’t Iason’s and never would be. Dorothea felt she would do all she could to ensure that if Persephone decided to make the return, Iason wouldn’t follow. Of course, that was thinking much too far in the future and she wasn’t ready to worry her father with such thoughts yet. For the time being, she would simply watch and wait to see what would unfold.
“As always, your optimism astounds me, Pappa,” she smiled at him, her tone light. “Though of course, I don’t disagree though I wish it wasn’t so. I suppose this is what happens when I wish for something more exciting to come and disrupt our lives.”
Her horse did much of the leading for her, intimately familiar with the trail that they were taking. She and her father had been down this path what probably amounted to hundreds of times, her loyal steed joining them on every trip. She nodded wisely at her father’s statement. Yes, she supposed that he was right. One could only learn through action, not simply thought. For all she experienced in her books, there was no true substitute for real life.
As expected, he rejected her offer to give all her dresses away, causing Dorothea to chuckle slightly. “Ah, my pleasure, truly,” she intoned. “I had thought Persephone was fitting just fine into my dresses, but I must compliment your generosity at providing her with her own wardrobe. How kind, Pappa.” Their dry humor was excellent today, apparently, though it was certainly all meant in good humor. She didn’t begrudge him for wanting her to be in court, nor would he for her joking manner surrounding her desire to get rid of her outfits.
Their horses hit a level part of the trail before another descent, giving Gavriil enough time to spin his in his saddle. “Yes, my cousins,” she replied, shaking her head. She had met them even fewer times than her father, generally removing any familial connection that she may have felt for them. This was why she was asking about them in the first place. Another question formed, but before she could ask it, her father proposed an idea even more ridiculous than she could have imagined. Only her immense respect for him and her sympathetic (yet unyielding) understanding of his thoughts on her situation kept her from bursting out laughing in an all too unlady like manner.
Their horses were right next to each other, she was only inches from her father. And so she looked down, fighting the enormous smile that was threating to take over her face. Only when she glanced up to see her father’s overeager face at the prospect of her marriage to the crown prince of Colchis, did she let out a giggle.
“Ah yes, I’m sure my archery skills will lure him in as they have done for every other suitor I’ve had,” she managed to reply when her giggles were under control. “Really, Pappa? The crown prince of Colchis? Don’t you think that’s aiming rather high?”
It wasn’t that Gavriil of Dimitrou never laughed. It wasn’t that he never smiled. He did both, when and if the spirit took him to do so, but most of the time, he did not prefer to have his emotions on display for everyone to see. He was much more comfortable being the only one not laughing than to laugh into a silent room. Though this did not qualify as a silent room, out here in the middle of a forest, he watched with an impassive expression as his eldest daughter valiantly fought the urge to keep her laughter to herself.
The hard fought battle, however, was lost because she finally did burst out with a giggling response. Gavriil directed his gaze forward, now reminded, yet again, that because he’d let her have her way and had both taught and fostered her desire for archery, she was now far too strong willed and bullheaded to be fit as a housewife. He’d done her no service in the marriage department and felt a little bad that he’d raised a charming companion for himself instead.
“I do not think it is aiming to high,” he said, though his voice was not laced with offense. She could laugh. He liked to hear it. Though he hadn’t meant to amuse her, he was not threatened by the laugh either. “Your aunt married King Typhon. Why should you not also sit on the throne? Besides,” he eyed her. “Vangelis of Kotas is a man who might appreciate a bit of competition. Here, watch that dip.”
He directed his horse around a sink hole that hadn’t been there yesterday. The hole wasn’t deep yet but they might have to start altering their path slightly to veer around the sinkhole enough to keep it from getting too much worse, on their way to the waterfall now. His horse tossed its head as it stepped around. Even the horse seemed not to have been paying much attention and might have plodded straight along.
“When he comes, wear your green dress.” Sometimes he felt a bit like a fusion of mother and father but it was a necessary evil. His only sister lived in Colchis and he did not keep any female company that he felt close enough with to beg for intervention for his daughters. Iason? He was less concerned with. The boy was already engaged. Dorothea was resistant to his attempts to get her fully into the court and Alexa? Just thinking of his youngest made him sigh. She was fully headstrong and full stop never wished to discuss future prospects that might take her away from the manor.
The waterfall was within sight now and he waited to speak more until they'd reached it. It was nothing grand. Mostly a 10ft drop from a short outcropping of rocks but the pool it fed was deep and a spring in its own right. Smooth stones littered the bottom of the clear water and in its center, carved and placed long ago, was the image of a nymph, staring up at them, her arm outstretched as though asking for help out. Her hand appeared close enough to grab just from the surface but, from experience as a young boy, she was far, far down. Anyone who attempted to swim and bring the life size stone statue with them would find themselves at the statue's feet with no hope of ever breathing air again. Once close enough to touch her, it would be hard to get to the surface.
This was where he sometimes came to pray. Sometimes there was good hunting to be had and, at times like these, quite literally no one around to hear what they were saying.
"I spoke to Persephone," he said, when he'd finally dismounted.
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It wasn’t that Gavriil of Dimitrou never laughed. It wasn’t that he never smiled. He did both, when and if the spirit took him to do so, but most of the time, he did not prefer to have his emotions on display for everyone to see. He was much more comfortable being the only one not laughing than to laugh into a silent room. Though this did not qualify as a silent room, out here in the middle of a forest, he watched with an impassive expression as his eldest daughter valiantly fought the urge to keep her laughter to herself.
The hard fought battle, however, was lost because she finally did burst out with a giggling response. Gavriil directed his gaze forward, now reminded, yet again, that because he’d let her have her way and had both taught and fostered her desire for archery, she was now far too strong willed and bullheaded to be fit as a housewife. He’d done her no service in the marriage department and felt a little bad that he’d raised a charming companion for himself instead.
“I do not think it is aiming to high,” he said, though his voice was not laced with offense. She could laugh. He liked to hear it. Though he hadn’t meant to amuse her, he was not threatened by the laugh either. “Your aunt married King Typhon. Why should you not also sit on the throne? Besides,” he eyed her. “Vangelis of Kotas is a man who might appreciate a bit of competition. Here, watch that dip.”
He directed his horse around a sink hole that hadn’t been there yesterday. The hole wasn’t deep yet but they might have to start altering their path slightly to veer around the sinkhole enough to keep it from getting too much worse, on their way to the waterfall now. His horse tossed its head as it stepped around. Even the horse seemed not to have been paying much attention and might have plodded straight along.
“When he comes, wear your green dress.” Sometimes he felt a bit like a fusion of mother and father but it was a necessary evil. His only sister lived in Colchis and he did not keep any female company that he felt close enough with to beg for intervention for his daughters. Iason? He was less concerned with. The boy was already engaged. Dorothea was resistant to his attempts to get her fully into the court and Alexa? Just thinking of his youngest made him sigh. She was fully headstrong and full stop never wished to discuss future prospects that might take her away from the manor.
The waterfall was within sight now and he waited to speak more until they'd reached it. It was nothing grand. Mostly a 10ft drop from a short outcropping of rocks but the pool it fed was deep and a spring in its own right. Smooth stones littered the bottom of the clear water and in its center, carved and placed long ago, was the image of a nymph, staring up at them, her arm outstretched as though asking for help out. Her hand appeared close enough to grab just from the surface but, from experience as a young boy, she was far, far down. Anyone who attempted to swim and bring the life size stone statue with them would find themselves at the statue's feet with no hope of ever breathing air again. Once close enough to touch her, it would be hard to get to the surface.
This was where he sometimes came to pray. Sometimes there was good hunting to be had and, at times like these, quite literally no one around to hear what they were saying.
"I spoke to Persephone," he said, when he'd finally dismounted.
It wasn’t that Gavriil of Dimitrou never laughed. It wasn’t that he never smiled. He did both, when and if the spirit took him to do so, but most of the time, he did not prefer to have his emotions on display for everyone to see. He was much more comfortable being the only one not laughing than to laugh into a silent room. Though this did not qualify as a silent room, out here in the middle of a forest, he watched with an impassive expression as his eldest daughter valiantly fought the urge to keep her laughter to herself.
The hard fought battle, however, was lost because she finally did burst out with a giggling response. Gavriil directed his gaze forward, now reminded, yet again, that because he’d let her have her way and had both taught and fostered her desire for archery, she was now far too strong willed and bullheaded to be fit as a housewife. He’d done her no service in the marriage department and felt a little bad that he’d raised a charming companion for himself instead.
“I do not think it is aiming to high,” he said, though his voice was not laced with offense. She could laugh. He liked to hear it. Though he hadn’t meant to amuse her, he was not threatened by the laugh either. “Your aunt married King Typhon. Why should you not also sit on the throne? Besides,” he eyed her. “Vangelis of Kotas is a man who might appreciate a bit of competition. Here, watch that dip.”
He directed his horse around a sink hole that hadn’t been there yesterday. The hole wasn’t deep yet but they might have to start altering their path slightly to veer around the sinkhole enough to keep it from getting too much worse, on their way to the waterfall now. His horse tossed its head as it stepped around. Even the horse seemed not to have been paying much attention and might have plodded straight along.
“When he comes, wear your green dress.” Sometimes he felt a bit like a fusion of mother and father but it was a necessary evil. His only sister lived in Colchis and he did not keep any female company that he felt close enough with to beg for intervention for his daughters. Iason? He was less concerned with. The boy was already engaged. Dorothea was resistant to his attempts to get her fully into the court and Alexa? Just thinking of his youngest made him sigh. She was fully headstrong and full stop never wished to discuss future prospects that might take her away from the manor.
The waterfall was within sight now and he waited to speak more until they'd reached it. It was nothing grand. Mostly a 10ft drop from a short outcropping of rocks but the pool it fed was deep and a spring in its own right. Smooth stones littered the bottom of the clear water and in its center, carved and placed long ago, was the image of a nymph, staring up at them, her arm outstretched as though asking for help out. Her hand appeared close enough to grab just from the surface but, from experience as a young boy, she was far, far down. Anyone who attempted to swim and bring the life size stone statue with them would find themselves at the statue's feet with no hope of ever breathing air again. Once close enough to touch her, it would be hard to get to the surface.
This was where he sometimes came to pray. Sometimes there was good hunting to be had and, at times like these, quite literally no one around to hear what they were saying.
"I spoke to Persephone," he said, when he'd finally dismounted.
There was a certain comfort in being around a family member. Not all families were like theirs, but Dorothea felt incredibly grateful for hers. It was a blessing to be able to laugh at her father’s suggestion and not fear that he would return a punishment or harsh words. To be free with your family was a special kind of freedom.
She knew all he wanted was the best for her and that she was not doing very much to achieve his traditional dreams. Marriage was simply not for her. She couldn’t imagine the life bound to a man and bored stiff, only entertaining and having children. For surely a man would not let her hunt and ride whenever she pleased. A man would expect her to behave in a certain way. Many ladies could do that, but not Doro. She felt a constriction in her chest whenever she thought about it. How could she become one of those women? To not be free to do as she wished? To have a child? To die in service of her husband rather than her people? No, that was not the life for her.
However, it was rather adorable that her father kept trying. Besides, if she left, who would there be to take care of him when he was older? Dorothea didn’t like to think of that day, but she would be there o support him when he reached it.
“Because, Pappa, the throne is boring. I cannot hunt when I must be sitting on the throne. And please don’t do me the disservice of pretending I would be good at assisting my husband.”
Besides, she thought, likely one of the other girls in Taengea had already swooped in to catch him. There were plenty of young women that were more beautiful than she was with far better prospects. Let them be the ones that got to marry a prince. Better for them. It wasn’t like their family was seeking any more prestige. Gavriil had made it clear many years ago that he didn’t exactly care about that.
She gave him a large smile anyway, noting, "But of course I'll wear my green dress. It's the least I can do."
As they reached the waterfall, Dorothea smiled and let some of her worries melt away. This was a good place. There were many wonderful parts to their lands and this was a particular favorite to them both. The sound of the water flowing always managed to soothe her.
She raised her brows slightly when her father mentioned Persephone. Dismounting smoothly, Doro crooked her head at him with an inquiring gaze. “And?” She had not spoken much with the woman since, but clearly the worst had not happened because the queen was still among them. “What did you say?”
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There was a certain comfort in being around a family member. Not all families were like theirs, but Dorothea felt incredibly grateful for hers. It was a blessing to be able to laugh at her father’s suggestion and not fear that he would return a punishment or harsh words. To be free with your family was a special kind of freedom.
She knew all he wanted was the best for her and that she was not doing very much to achieve his traditional dreams. Marriage was simply not for her. She couldn’t imagine the life bound to a man and bored stiff, only entertaining and having children. For surely a man would not let her hunt and ride whenever she pleased. A man would expect her to behave in a certain way. Many ladies could do that, but not Doro. She felt a constriction in her chest whenever she thought about it. How could she become one of those women? To not be free to do as she wished? To have a child? To die in service of her husband rather than her people? No, that was not the life for her.
However, it was rather adorable that her father kept trying. Besides, if she left, who would there be to take care of him when he was older? Dorothea didn’t like to think of that day, but she would be there o support him when he reached it.
“Because, Pappa, the throne is boring. I cannot hunt when I must be sitting on the throne. And please don’t do me the disservice of pretending I would be good at assisting my husband.”
Besides, she thought, likely one of the other girls in Taengea had already swooped in to catch him. There were plenty of young women that were more beautiful than she was with far better prospects. Let them be the ones that got to marry a prince. Better for them. It wasn’t like their family was seeking any more prestige. Gavriil had made it clear many years ago that he didn’t exactly care about that.
She gave him a large smile anyway, noting, "But of course I'll wear my green dress. It's the least I can do."
As they reached the waterfall, Dorothea smiled and let some of her worries melt away. This was a good place. There were many wonderful parts to their lands and this was a particular favorite to them both. The sound of the water flowing always managed to soothe her.
She raised her brows slightly when her father mentioned Persephone. Dismounting smoothly, Doro crooked her head at him with an inquiring gaze. “And?” She had not spoken much with the woman since, but clearly the worst had not happened because the queen was still among them. “What did you say?”
There was a certain comfort in being around a family member. Not all families were like theirs, but Dorothea felt incredibly grateful for hers. It was a blessing to be able to laugh at her father’s suggestion and not fear that he would return a punishment or harsh words. To be free with your family was a special kind of freedom.
She knew all he wanted was the best for her and that she was not doing very much to achieve his traditional dreams. Marriage was simply not for her. She couldn’t imagine the life bound to a man and bored stiff, only entertaining and having children. For surely a man would not let her hunt and ride whenever she pleased. A man would expect her to behave in a certain way. Many ladies could do that, but not Doro. She felt a constriction in her chest whenever she thought about it. How could she become one of those women? To not be free to do as she wished? To have a child? To die in service of her husband rather than her people? No, that was not the life for her.
However, it was rather adorable that her father kept trying. Besides, if she left, who would there be to take care of him when he was older? Dorothea didn’t like to think of that day, but she would be there o support him when he reached it.
“Because, Pappa, the throne is boring. I cannot hunt when I must be sitting on the throne. And please don’t do me the disservice of pretending I would be good at assisting my husband.”
Besides, she thought, likely one of the other girls in Taengea had already swooped in to catch him. There were plenty of young women that were more beautiful than she was with far better prospects. Let them be the ones that got to marry a prince. Better for them. It wasn’t like their family was seeking any more prestige. Gavriil had made it clear many years ago that he didn’t exactly care about that.
She gave him a large smile anyway, noting, "But of course I'll wear my green dress. It's the least I can do."
As they reached the waterfall, Dorothea smiled and let some of her worries melt away. This was a good place. There were many wonderful parts to their lands and this was a particular favorite to them both. The sound of the water flowing always managed to soothe her.
She raised her brows slightly when her father mentioned Persephone. Dismounting smoothly, Doro crooked her head at him with an inquiring gaze. “And?” She had not spoken much with the woman since, but clearly the worst had not happened because the queen was still among them. “What did you say?”
He’d known, even before suggesting it, that she would turn down his idea. It didn’t hurt to try, after all, and she was right. His main goal was to secure a future for her that was fulfilling as well as met certain requirements. Her husband needed to be rich, for one thing. Dorothea was used to her own way, yes, but she was not used to hardships. Hunting in the woods or riding or hiking were all well and good, but then they both came home to a fine house and sizeable rooms and servants to draw baths, wash their clothes, fix up their wounds if they’d incurred any; there was no use pretending that she was not a lady. She was just a lady with unladylike pursuits.
“Because, Pappa, the throne is boring. I cannot hunt when I must be sitting on the throne. And please don’t do me the disservice of pretending I would be good at assisting my husband.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to,” he said stubbornly, though he knew very well she’d be bored senseless. Though, since she’d promised to wear her green dress, he let the matter drop. He wasn’t going to force her. Just...nudge her in the right direction. It’d be gross negligence to not at least try.
When he dismounted and mentioned that he’d spoken to the queen, Dorothea seemed interested in the topic, just as he’d hoped she would be. Nearly impatient, even. Persephone had been fairly indifferent and mechanical. Almost like an unfeeling, unthinking being. A shell. Not someone for Iason.
“And? What did you say?”
“That if she wished to stay, there would be no more dramatic wanderings through the forest in storms,” he said a little gruffly. Yes, she’d lost her father. Yes, she had fled Athenia. But that did not mean she could put herself and everyone else in the house in danger due to her sorrow. “But, I might have been a bit harsh with her. She didn’t take the criticism well.” He was definitely not the most tactful man in Greece. Right, yes. Tactful? Debatable.
“I also spoke to Iason. He says he’ll stay by her side and that he does not want to break the engagement. That means that your brother will need help. I do not believe the queen has had a very...close upbringing with people. She’s distant and I do not believe that will do well with Iason.”
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He’d known, even before suggesting it, that she would turn down his idea. It didn’t hurt to try, after all, and she was right. His main goal was to secure a future for her that was fulfilling as well as met certain requirements. Her husband needed to be rich, for one thing. Dorothea was used to her own way, yes, but she was not used to hardships. Hunting in the woods or riding or hiking were all well and good, but then they both came home to a fine house and sizeable rooms and servants to draw baths, wash their clothes, fix up their wounds if they’d incurred any; there was no use pretending that she was not a lady. She was just a lady with unladylike pursuits.
“Because, Pappa, the throne is boring. I cannot hunt when I must be sitting on the throne. And please don’t do me the disservice of pretending I would be good at assisting my husband.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to,” he said stubbornly, though he knew very well she’d be bored senseless. Though, since she’d promised to wear her green dress, he let the matter drop. He wasn’t going to force her. Just...nudge her in the right direction. It’d be gross negligence to not at least try.
When he dismounted and mentioned that he’d spoken to the queen, Dorothea seemed interested in the topic, just as he’d hoped she would be. Nearly impatient, even. Persephone had been fairly indifferent and mechanical. Almost like an unfeeling, unthinking being. A shell. Not someone for Iason.
“And? What did you say?”
“That if she wished to stay, there would be no more dramatic wanderings through the forest in storms,” he said a little gruffly. Yes, she’d lost her father. Yes, she had fled Athenia. But that did not mean she could put herself and everyone else in the house in danger due to her sorrow. “But, I might have been a bit harsh with her. She didn’t take the criticism well.” He was definitely not the most tactful man in Greece. Right, yes. Tactful? Debatable.
“I also spoke to Iason. He says he’ll stay by her side and that he does not want to break the engagement. That means that your brother will need help. I do not believe the queen has had a very...close upbringing with people. She’s distant and I do not believe that will do well with Iason.”
He’d known, even before suggesting it, that she would turn down his idea. It didn’t hurt to try, after all, and she was right. His main goal was to secure a future for her that was fulfilling as well as met certain requirements. Her husband needed to be rich, for one thing. Dorothea was used to her own way, yes, but she was not used to hardships. Hunting in the woods or riding or hiking were all well and good, but then they both came home to a fine house and sizeable rooms and servants to draw baths, wash their clothes, fix up their wounds if they’d incurred any; there was no use pretending that she was not a lady. She was just a lady with unladylike pursuits.
“Because, Pappa, the throne is boring. I cannot hunt when I must be sitting on the throne. And please don’t do me the disservice of pretending I would be good at assisting my husband.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to,” he said stubbornly, though he knew very well she’d be bored senseless. Though, since she’d promised to wear her green dress, he let the matter drop. He wasn’t going to force her. Just...nudge her in the right direction. It’d be gross negligence to not at least try.
When he dismounted and mentioned that he’d spoken to the queen, Dorothea seemed interested in the topic, just as he’d hoped she would be. Nearly impatient, even. Persephone had been fairly indifferent and mechanical. Almost like an unfeeling, unthinking being. A shell. Not someone for Iason.
“And? What did you say?”
“That if she wished to stay, there would be no more dramatic wanderings through the forest in storms,” he said a little gruffly. Yes, she’d lost her father. Yes, she had fled Athenia. But that did not mean she could put herself and everyone else in the house in danger due to her sorrow. “But, I might have been a bit harsh with her. She didn’t take the criticism well.” He was definitely not the most tactful man in Greece. Right, yes. Tactful? Debatable.
“I also spoke to Iason. He says he’ll stay by her side and that he does not want to break the engagement. That means that your brother will need help. I do not believe the queen has had a very...close upbringing with people. She’s distant and I do not believe that will do well with Iason.”
It was a very endearing comment that Dorothea didn’t altogether disagree with, but not in this circumstance. She wasn’t all that keen on marrying a royal and being made to produce a plethora of heirs. That wasn’t at all appealing. She hoped to avoid marriage as long as was possible (which she hoped would be forever), but had a plan for the possible eventuality. And that plan did not involve having as many heirs as possible. Rather, it would be a man who was so old that he could not think of having children anymore and thus would not expect it of her. Of course, she couldn’t tell her father of this plan lest he veto it later. “I suppose you’re right,” she responded cordially, though was relieved that he seemed to let the matter drop.
They quickly moved on to the subject of the queen that had wandered into their midst. Dorothea had been dying to hear her father’s side of the story, hoping that it would fill in some of the gaps. His explanation fit what she had expected for the most part. He hadn’t been pleased by her wandering, but she was glad to hear that he recognized he might have been a bit harsh. Gavriil continued on, mentioning speaking with Iason. Dorothea took a moment to digest what he was saying and consider her own thoughts before responding.
She stroked her horse before letting him graze in the area surrounding the waterfall. She didn’t tie him, as she knew he wouldn’t stray far. Dimitrou horses, especially those that they kept for their own, were remarkably well trained. If trained was what one could call it. They had a close bond with their owners and Dorothea had never once feared she would lose a beast to wandering.
Finally, the words came and Doro hoped that she sounded more tactful than her father had been. “Pappa, she’s grieving. It’s been a shock, everything that’s happened to her. And to lose a sister…I cannot fathom. Yes, she was a bit foolish to wander, but from what I’ve gathered in my conversation with her, she’s rather embarrassed by the situation.”
As for her brother… “Gods help me for saying such a thing, but I believe we must trust Iason’s judgment in this case. He knows her better than we, after all. And I believe she cares for him in some way. At least trusts him. Why else would she have come here? Perhaps given time, she will understand our ways.”
Dorothea bit her tongue on her last comment, stopping shy of making a comparison to her own mother. It wasn’t the time to bring up that when they had other things to focus on. Yet, sometimes she felt her father needed reminding that not every relationship could be like his own had been.
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It was a very endearing comment that Dorothea didn’t altogether disagree with, but not in this circumstance. She wasn’t all that keen on marrying a royal and being made to produce a plethora of heirs. That wasn’t at all appealing. She hoped to avoid marriage as long as was possible (which she hoped would be forever), but had a plan for the possible eventuality. And that plan did not involve having as many heirs as possible. Rather, it would be a man who was so old that he could not think of having children anymore and thus would not expect it of her. Of course, she couldn’t tell her father of this plan lest he veto it later. “I suppose you’re right,” she responded cordially, though was relieved that he seemed to let the matter drop.
They quickly moved on to the subject of the queen that had wandered into their midst. Dorothea had been dying to hear her father’s side of the story, hoping that it would fill in some of the gaps. His explanation fit what she had expected for the most part. He hadn’t been pleased by her wandering, but she was glad to hear that he recognized he might have been a bit harsh. Gavriil continued on, mentioning speaking with Iason. Dorothea took a moment to digest what he was saying and consider her own thoughts before responding.
She stroked her horse before letting him graze in the area surrounding the waterfall. She didn’t tie him, as she knew he wouldn’t stray far. Dimitrou horses, especially those that they kept for their own, were remarkably well trained. If trained was what one could call it. They had a close bond with their owners and Dorothea had never once feared she would lose a beast to wandering.
Finally, the words came and Doro hoped that she sounded more tactful than her father had been. “Pappa, she’s grieving. It’s been a shock, everything that’s happened to her. And to lose a sister…I cannot fathom. Yes, she was a bit foolish to wander, but from what I’ve gathered in my conversation with her, she’s rather embarrassed by the situation.”
As for her brother… “Gods help me for saying such a thing, but I believe we must trust Iason’s judgment in this case. He knows her better than we, after all. And I believe she cares for him in some way. At least trusts him. Why else would she have come here? Perhaps given time, she will understand our ways.”
Dorothea bit her tongue on her last comment, stopping shy of making a comparison to her own mother. It wasn’t the time to bring up that when they had other things to focus on. Yet, sometimes she felt her father needed reminding that not every relationship could be like his own had been.
It was a very endearing comment that Dorothea didn’t altogether disagree with, but not in this circumstance. She wasn’t all that keen on marrying a royal and being made to produce a plethora of heirs. That wasn’t at all appealing. She hoped to avoid marriage as long as was possible (which she hoped would be forever), but had a plan for the possible eventuality. And that plan did not involve having as many heirs as possible. Rather, it would be a man who was so old that he could not think of having children anymore and thus would not expect it of her. Of course, she couldn’t tell her father of this plan lest he veto it later. “I suppose you’re right,” she responded cordially, though was relieved that he seemed to let the matter drop.
They quickly moved on to the subject of the queen that had wandered into their midst. Dorothea had been dying to hear her father’s side of the story, hoping that it would fill in some of the gaps. His explanation fit what she had expected for the most part. He hadn’t been pleased by her wandering, but she was glad to hear that he recognized he might have been a bit harsh. Gavriil continued on, mentioning speaking with Iason. Dorothea took a moment to digest what he was saying and consider her own thoughts before responding.
She stroked her horse before letting him graze in the area surrounding the waterfall. She didn’t tie him, as she knew he wouldn’t stray far. Dimitrou horses, especially those that they kept for their own, were remarkably well trained. If trained was what one could call it. They had a close bond with their owners and Dorothea had never once feared she would lose a beast to wandering.
Finally, the words came and Doro hoped that she sounded more tactful than her father had been. “Pappa, she’s grieving. It’s been a shock, everything that’s happened to her. And to lose a sister…I cannot fathom. Yes, she was a bit foolish to wander, but from what I’ve gathered in my conversation with her, she’s rather embarrassed by the situation.”
As for her brother… “Gods help me for saying such a thing, but I believe we must trust Iason’s judgment in this case. He knows her better than we, after all. And I believe she cares for him in some way. At least trusts him. Why else would she have come here? Perhaps given time, she will understand our ways.”
Dorothea bit her tongue on her last comment, stopping shy of making a comparison to her own mother. It wasn’t the time to bring up that when they had other things to focus on. Yet, sometimes she felt her father needed reminding that not every relationship could be like his own had been.
The whole time he’d been speaking, he was working off his riding gloves and stuffing them into the saddle bag. His view of his daughter was mostly from her knees up, since his horse’s back was in the way. Coming around the animal, he also didn’t tie the horse. The bridles didn’t have a bit and so it wasn’t an issue if the horse wanted to graze. He made sure the reins wouldn’t give the beast trouble and then rubbed his hands together as he watched his daughter gracefully dismount and let her own horse go.
She naturally came to the queen’s defense and Gavriil pressed his lips together but said nothing. He was still of the opinion that it didn’t matter how many family members one lost - especially since she’d had time to process that whilst on the ship over from Athenia and also during the ride to the estate. There was still no call to wait until the house was asleep to wander in dramatic fashion, weeping upon every tree she passed, and (he assumed) hoping to be rescued. Every man, lord and servant, who’d gone out looking for her had come back sopping wet, and cold on top of it. He distinctly remembered steam rising from both his and Dorotheos’s shoulders as they’d sat by the kitchen fire, attempting to stave off illness. An illness that Iason was now suffering from.
Colds never killed anyone but it could still be traced back to the tiny monarch back home.
Dorothea mentioned that Persephone was likely embarrassed by the whole thing and Gavriil, bending down to pick up a smooth, flat rock, said, “As she should be,” in a gravelly undertone. No one but his daughter was around to hear and he didn’t moderate his tone or words at all.
“I do trust him,” Gavriil said, rubbing his thumb over the rock’s surface. He flipped it over, taking stock of it, and then curled his thumb and forefinger around it. Standing to the side, he gauged the water for a moment and then sent the rock skipping across the clear spring water. Ripples cascaded out from each bounce of the stone until it finally sank down, falling softly on the statue’s face, and then turning end over end toward the bottom below.
“I just hope, for his sake, that she is not as cold as she appears.” He turned to look at Dorothea. “Marriage would be more of a punishment than a pleasure if the partners are not equal.” He looked back to the ground, searching for another stone and found one, flipping it to her and looking for one for himself. Alexa was amazing at skipping rocks but he didn’t remember if it was Dorothea or Iason who was also reasonably good at it. His children’s skills were all in the active, out of doors arena, rather than in the court. Much like his own.
“I am not attempting to pit any of us against the queen,” he said, bending down to get his new rock and doing what he’d done before to check its worthiness. “I want everything to work out for Iason. It would grieve me if it did not.” Gavriil understood that almost no one had the luck he did in finding someone like Sybil, and even his time with her had been cut short.
“Here. See if you can do more skips than I can.” And as he took aim across the water, he paused to add, “Though I doubt you can.” This was also said with a goading smile and he skipped his stone an impressive seven times before it sank.
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The whole time he’d been speaking, he was working off his riding gloves and stuffing them into the saddle bag. His view of his daughter was mostly from her knees up, since his horse’s back was in the way. Coming around the animal, he also didn’t tie the horse. The bridles didn’t have a bit and so it wasn’t an issue if the horse wanted to graze. He made sure the reins wouldn’t give the beast trouble and then rubbed his hands together as he watched his daughter gracefully dismount and let her own horse go.
She naturally came to the queen’s defense and Gavriil pressed his lips together but said nothing. He was still of the opinion that it didn’t matter how many family members one lost - especially since she’d had time to process that whilst on the ship over from Athenia and also during the ride to the estate. There was still no call to wait until the house was asleep to wander in dramatic fashion, weeping upon every tree she passed, and (he assumed) hoping to be rescued. Every man, lord and servant, who’d gone out looking for her had come back sopping wet, and cold on top of it. He distinctly remembered steam rising from both his and Dorotheos’s shoulders as they’d sat by the kitchen fire, attempting to stave off illness. An illness that Iason was now suffering from.
Colds never killed anyone but it could still be traced back to the tiny monarch back home.
Dorothea mentioned that Persephone was likely embarrassed by the whole thing and Gavriil, bending down to pick up a smooth, flat rock, said, “As she should be,” in a gravelly undertone. No one but his daughter was around to hear and he didn’t moderate his tone or words at all.
“I do trust him,” Gavriil said, rubbing his thumb over the rock’s surface. He flipped it over, taking stock of it, and then curled his thumb and forefinger around it. Standing to the side, he gauged the water for a moment and then sent the rock skipping across the clear spring water. Ripples cascaded out from each bounce of the stone until it finally sank down, falling softly on the statue’s face, and then turning end over end toward the bottom below.
“I just hope, for his sake, that she is not as cold as she appears.” He turned to look at Dorothea. “Marriage would be more of a punishment than a pleasure if the partners are not equal.” He looked back to the ground, searching for another stone and found one, flipping it to her and looking for one for himself. Alexa was amazing at skipping rocks but he didn’t remember if it was Dorothea or Iason who was also reasonably good at it. His children’s skills were all in the active, out of doors arena, rather than in the court. Much like his own.
“I am not attempting to pit any of us against the queen,” he said, bending down to get his new rock and doing what he’d done before to check its worthiness. “I want everything to work out for Iason. It would grieve me if it did not.” Gavriil understood that almost no one had the luck he did in finding someone like Sybil, and even his time with her had been cut short.
“Here. See if you can do more skips than I can.” And as he took aim across the water, he paused to add, “Though I doubt you can.” This was also said with a goading smile and he skipped his stone an impressive seven times before it sank.
The whole time he’d been speaking, he was working off his riding gloves and stuffing them into the saddle bag. His view of his daughter was mostly from her knees up, since his horse’s back was in the way. Coming around the animal, he also didn’t tie the horse. The bridles didn’t have a bit and so it wasn’t an issue if the horse wanted to graze. He made sure the reins wouldn’t give the beast trouble and then rubbed his hands together as he watched his daughter gracefully dismount and let her own horse go.
She naturally came to the queen’s defense and Gavriil pressed his lips together but said nothing. He was still of the opinion that it didn’t matter how many family members one lost - especially since she’d had time to process that whilst on the ship over from Athenia and also during the ride to the estate. There was still no call to wait until the house was asleep to wander in dramatic fashion, weeping upon every tree she passed, and (he assumed) hoping to be rescued. Every man, lord and servant, who’d gone out looking for her had come back sopping wet, and cold on top of it. He distinctly remembered steam rising from both his and Dorotheos’s shoulders as they’d sat by the kitchen fire, attempting to stave off illness. An illness that Iason was now suffering from.
Colds never killed anyone but it could still be traced back to the tiny monarch back home.
Dorothea mentioned that Persephone was likely embarrassed by the whole thing and Gavriil, bending down to pick up a smooth, flat rock, said, “As she should be,” in a gravelly undertone. No one but his daughter was around to hear and he didn’t moderate his tone or words at all.
“I do trust him,” Gavriil said, rubbing his thumb over the rock’s surface. He flipped it over, taking stock of it, and then curled his thumb and forefinger around it. Standing to the side, he gauged the water for a moment and then sent the rock skipping across the clear spring water. Ripples cascaded out from each bounce of the stone until it finally sank down, falling softly on the statue’s face, and then turning end over end toward the bottom below.
“I just hope, for his sake, that she is not as cold as she appears.” He turned to look at Dorothea. “Marriage would be more of a punishment than a pleasure if the partners are not equal.” He looked back to the ground, searching for another stone and found one, flipping it to her and looking for one for himself. Alexa was amazing at skipping rocks but he didn’t remember if it was Dorothea or Iason who was also reasonably good at it. His children’s skills were all in the active, out of doors arena, rather than in the court. Much like his own.
“I am not attempting to pit any of us against the queen,” he said, bending down to get his new rock and doing what he’d done before to check its worthiness. “I want everything to work out for Iason. It would grieve me if it did not.” Gavriil understood that almost no one had the luck he did in finding someone like Sybil, and even his time with her had been cut short.
“Here. See if you can do more skips than I can.” And as he took aim across the water, he paused to add, “Though I doubt you can.” This was also said with a goading smile and he skipped his stone an impressive seven times before it sank.
Dorothea noted the look on her father’s face as she defended the queen. Perhaps his opinion would change in time as they got to know one another better. She felt certain it would, especially as Persephone was to become his new daughter. If Iason loved her, then so would the rest of them. She also felt certain that once Iason was completely recovered than Gavriil would be quicker to forgive. For now, Dorothea let the subject drop, content to let time change her father’s mind. That was all that she could rely on for now.
She glanced at her horse, who was nibbling on the grass nearby, before turning back to her father. He had a rock in his hand and a serious expression on his face. Dorothea knew that look. He was concentrating, probably both on their conversation and the game at hand. She watched as he turned the rock over in his hands, finally throwing it across the water. Her eyes followed it, watching it skip gracefully over the water before finally sinking.
“I think she will surprise us,” Dorothea responded, though she couldn’t help but agree with his latter comment. She also stored that away for future use. It might be nice to remind him later that he admitted to marriage potentially being a punishment.
Their conversation quickly turned to the game, for which Doro was slightly relieved. They both had Iason’s interests at heart and were both worried for him, but there was nothing much more they could do for him. He had to live his own life and know that they were there for him.
She had already been scanning the ground when he challenged her. Picking up a smooth, flat rock, Doro smiled. “Ah, Pappa, don’t challenge me so,” she teased, smiling back at him. Then, she skipped her stone, a cool aim sending it far. They both counted as it skipped exactly seven times before sinking. Turning back to her father, she grinned. “Well it appears we are equal in this. One more round?”
One more round turned into several more as they continued to challenge each other, enjoying their silent companionship. This was, perhaps, the thing Dorothea loved most about her father. He could be silent, but completely present for her. That was special.
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Dorothea noted the look on her father’s face as she defended the queen. Perhaps his opinion would change in time as they got to know one another better. She felt certain it would, especially as Persephone was to become his new daughter. If Iason loved her, then so would the rest of them. She also felt certain that once Iason was completely recovered than Gavriil would be quicker to forgive. For now, Dorothea let the subject drop, content to let time change her father’s mind. That was all that she could rely on for now.
She glanced at her horse, who was nibbling on the grass nearby, before turning back to her father. He had a rock in his hand and a serious expression on his face. Dorothea knew that look. He was concentrating, probably both on their conversation and the game at hand. She watched as he turned the rock over in his hands, finally throwing it across the water. Her eyes followed it, watching it skip gracefully over the water before finally sinking.
“I think she will surprise us,” Dorothea responded, though she couldn’t help but agree with his latter comment. She also stored that away for future use. It might be nice to remind him later that he admitted to marriage potentially being a punishment.
Their conversation quickly turned to the game, for which Doro was slightly relieved. They both had Iason’s interests at heart and were both worried for him, but there was nothing much more they could do for him. He had to live his own life and know that they were there for him.
She had already been scanning the ground when he challenged her. Picking up a smooth, flat rock, Doro smiled. “Ah, Pappa, don’t challenge me so,” she teased, smiling back at him. Then, she skipped her stone, a cool aim sending it far. They both counted as it skipped exactly seven times before sinking. Turning back to her father, she grinned. “Well it appears we are equal in this. One more round?”
One more round turned into several more as they continued to challenge each other, enjoying their silent companionship. This was, perhaps, the thing Dorothea loved most about her father. He could be silent, but completely present for her. That was special.
Dorothea noted the look on her father’s face as she defended the queen. Perhaps his opinion would change in time as they got to know one another better. She felt certain it would, especially as Persephone was to become his new daughter. If Iason loved her, then so would the rest of them. She also felt certain that once Iason was completely recovered than Gavriil would be quicker to forgive. For now, Dorothea let the subject drop, content to let time change her father’s mind. That was all that she could rely on for now.
She glanced at her horse, who was nibbling on the grass nearby, before turning back to her father. He had a rock in his hand and a serious expression on his face. Dorothea knew that look. He was concentrating, probably both on their conversation and the game at hand. She watched as he turned the rock over in his hands, finally throwing it across the water. Her eyes followed it, watching it skip gracefully over the water before finally sinking.
“I think she will surprise us,” Dorothea responded, though she couldn’t help but agree with his latter comment. She also stored that away for future use. It might be nice to remind him later that he admitted to marriage potentially being a punishment.
Their conversation quickly turned to the game, for which Doro was slightly relieved. They both had Iason’s interests at heart and were both worried for him, but there was nothing much more they could do for him. He had to live his own life and know that they were there for him.
She had already been scanning the ground when he challenged her. Picking up a smooth, flat rock, Doro smiled. “Ah, Pappa, don’t challenge me so,” she teased, smiling back at him. Then, she skipped her stone, a cool aim sending it far. They both counted as it skipped exactly seven times before sinking. Turning back to her father, she grinned. “Well it appears we are equal in this. One more round?”
One more round turned into several more as they continued to challenge each other, enjoying their silent companionship. This was, perhaps, the thing Dorothea loved most about her father. He could be silent, but completely present for her. That was special.