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Persephone's reaction probably read as bizarre to many. Some might have thought that she should simply be happy and overjoyed that her sister was in fact alive. And a part of her absolutely was. It was that bubbling hysteria of relief that was fuelling her tears; the explosion of emotion - whether good or bad - ensuring that she was hyper sensitive to the fact that she had left her sister behind and, in the process, failed in her promise to each of her dead parents. The guilt was just too much and fuelled by the almost ethereal sense of disbelieving joy that Emilia was alive, it had overcome her in a babbling, tearful reaction that she couldn't control. Like when a small child cried because they were tired or emotional or over-stimulated. The tears didn't necessarily come from sorrow. They were simply the only option left to an exhausted and emotionally spent young woman who had just been given the greatest of news followed by her own guilt slapping her in the face. The only answer, it seemed, was to curl into Iason's hold of comfort.
Her fingers curling around the front of his tunic and her frame wriggling closer, Persephone found her face in Iason's neck, her nose against the groove of where it joined his collarbone. He smelt of the woods they had ridden through that day, of the bright sunshine that had seeped into his skin and of a soft, deeper scent of sweat and man. In bizarre reaction in a series of bizarre reactions, Persephone felt her mouth water, her skin turn sensitive and her instincts call to move closer, to hold his tighter...
Soon, as Iason shifted back onto his rear, they moved to a similar position as they had occupied in the fields, her legs spread over his, her rear on his thighs. She shifted her arms from where they had been encased between them to wrap them around his waist and hold him closer, her head still on his shoulder, still breathing him in.
As a few minutes ticked by and Iason hummed to her, she felt the vibrations of his voice through his chest and into hers, the ache that he had started in her core sparking at the sensation against her breasts and she squeezed her eyes shut, taking slow and deep breaths.
She felt on edge. Exposed. Stripped bare and raw emotionally to the point where every shift, sensation, thought and feeling was amplified. And all she seemed able to decide to do to counter it, was to hold on to Iason as tight as she could and wait for her world to right its axis once more.
Keeping her eyes closed, Persephone turned her thoughts inward as she knew what her next move had to be. It wasn't a conscious choice. It was a simple matter of fact. As if she were the sea and her sister the moon. She would return to Athenia. She would get her sister back personally. She would devote herself to Emilia. She had been her mother for many years. Now she would be bother parents. She would help her in her last few years before true adulthood and would ensure her marriage to someone good and kind. Someone who could look after her.
And she couldn't do that from Taengea.
She needed to leave.
"Iason..." Her voice was quiet, her sobs passed now and her lungs and frame calm. She spoke against the skin of his neck, not wishing to move or meet his gaze. "Will you take me somewhere tomorrow?" It would take several days to prepare for a voyage to Athenia. And she wanted to be wholly certain of her choice. To do that, she needed to see what she would be turning down by returning to her homeland. "Will you take me to Chaoedia?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Persephone's reaction probably read as bizarre to many. Some might have thought that she should simply be happy and overjoyed that her sister was in fact alive. And a part of her absolutely was. It was that bubbling hysteria of relief that was fuelling her tears; the explosion of emotion - whether good or bad - ensuring that she was hyper sensitive to the fact that she had left her sister behind and, in the process, failed in her promise to each of her dead parents. The guilt was just too much and fuelled by the almost ethereal sense of disbelieving joy that Emilia was alive, it had overcome her in a babbling, tearful reaction that she couldn't control. Like when a small child cried because they were tired or emotional or over-stimulated. The tears didn't necessarily come from sorrow. They were simply the only option left to an exhausted and emotionally spent young woman who had just been given the greatest of news followed by her own guilt slapping her in the face. The only answer, it seemed, was to curl into Iason's hold of comfort.
Her fingers curling around the front of his tunic and her frame wriggling closer, Persephone found her face in Iason's neck, her nose against the groove of where it joined his collarbone. He smelt of the woods they had ridden through that day, of the bright sunshine that had seeped into his skin and of a soft, deeper scent of sweat and man. In bizarre reaction in a series of bizarre reactions, Persephone felt her mouth water, her skin turn sensitive and her instincts call to move closer, to hold his tighter...
Soon, as Iason shifted back onto his rear, they moved to a similar position as they had occupied in the fields, her legs spread over his, her rear on his thighs. She shifted her arms from where they had been encased between them to wrap them around his waist and hold him closer, her head still on his shoulder, still breathing him in.
As a few minutes ticked by and Iason hummed to her, she felt the vibrations of his voice through his chest and into hers, the ache that he had started in her core sparking at the sensation against her breasts and she squeezed her eyes shut, taking slow and deep breaths.
She felt on edge. Exposed. Stripped bare and raw emotionally to the point where every shift, sensation, thought and feeling was amplified. And all she seemed able to decide to do to counter it, was to hold on to Iason as tight as she could and wait for her world to right its axis once more.
Keeping her eyes closed, Persephone turned her thoughts inward as she knew what her next move had to be. It wasn't a conscious choice. It was a simple matter of fact. As if she were the sea and her sister the moon. She would return to Athenia. She would get her sister back personally. She would devote herself to Emilia. She had been her mother for many years. Now she would be bother parents. She would help her in her last few years before true adulthood and would ensure her marriage to someone good and kind. Someone who could look after her.
And she couldn't do that from Taengea.
She needed to leave.
"Iason..." Her voice was quiet, her sobs passed now and her lungs and frame calm. She spoke against the skin of his neck, not wishing to move or meet his gaze. "Will you take me somewhere tomorrow?" It would take several days to prepare for a voyage to Athenia. And she wanted to be wholly certain of her choice. To do that, she needed to see what she would be turning down by returning to her homeland. "Will you take me to Chaoedia?"
Persephone's reaction probably read as bizarre to many. Some might have thought that she should simply be happy and overjoyed that her sister was in fact alive. And a part of her absolutely was. It was that bubbling hysteria of relief that was fuelling her tears; the explosion of emotion - whether good or bad - ensuring that she was hyper sensitive to the fact that she had left her sister behind and, in the process, failed in her promise to each of her dead parents. The guilt was just too much and fuelled by the almost ethereal sense of disbelieving joy that Emilia was alive, it had overcome her in a babbling, tearful reaction that she couldn't control. Like when a small child cried because they were tired or emotional or over-stimulated. The tears didn't necessarily come from sorrow. They were simply the only option left to an exhausted and emotionally spent young woman who had just been given the greatest of news followed by her own guilt slapping her in the face. The only answer, it seemed, was to curl into Iason's hold of comfort.
Her fingers curling around the front of his tunic and her frame wriggling closer, Persephone found her face in Iason's neck, her nose against the groove of where it joined his collarbone. He smelt of the woods they had ridden through that day, of the bright sunshine that had seeped into his skin and of a soft, deeper scent of sweat and man. In bizarre reaction in a series of bizarre reactions, Persephone felt her mouth water, her skin turn sensitive and her instincts call to move closer, to hold his tighter...
Soon, as Iason shifted back onto his rear, they moved to a similar position as they had occupied in the fields, her legs spread over his, her rear on his thighs. She shifted her arms from where they had been encased between them to wrap them around his waist and hold him closer, her head still on his shoulder, still breathing him in.
As a few minutes ticked by and Iason hummed to her, she felt the vibrations of his voice through his chest and into hers, the ache that he had started in her core sparking at the sensation against her breasts and she squeezed her eyes shut, taking slow and deep breaths.
She felt on edge. Exposed. Stripped bare and raw emotionally to the point where every shift, sensation, thought and feeling was amplified. And all she seemed able to decide to do to counter it, was to hold on to Iason as tight as she could and wait for her world to right its axis once more.
Keeping her eyes closed, Persephone turned her thoughts inward as she knew what her next move had to be. It wasn't a conscious choice. It was a simple matter of fact. As if she were the sea and her sister the moon. She would return to Athenia. She would get her sister back personally. She would devote herself to Emilia. She had been her mother for many years. Now she would be bother parents. She would help her in her last few years before true adulthood and would ensure her marriage to someone good and kind. Someone who could look after her.
And she couldn't do that from Taengea.
She needed to leave.
"Iason..." Her voice was quiet, her sobs passed now and her lungs and frame calm. She spoke against the skin of his neck, not wishing to move or meet his gaze. "Will you take me somewhere tomorrow?" It would take several days to prepare for a voyage to Athenia. And she wanted to be wholly certain of her choice. To do that, she needed to see what she would be turning down by returning to her homeland. "Will you take me to Chaoedia?"
It was difficult to determine how long they sat there together, wrapped in each other's embrace and clinging tight. She needed him to just be there, and so he was, and would be as long as she needed him to be. The way her hands played with the fabric of his clothing, brushing against the muscle beneath brought memory of when they sat in a very similar position out in the field not so long ago, though it felt as if a year had passed between now and then. Perhaps she didn't know what affect her touch had on him after all.
As her sobs quieted he kept humming, waiting until she finally fell silent and then spoke before he stopped. Her question had him nodding, brushing a hand through her hair at her forehead that had come out of the braided knots she'd tied it up in. "Anywhere, of course." They could venture to the seaside if it would make her feel more at home, or deeper into the woods or up the hills if she needed to be further from home. Wherever she asked of him he would take her, and he knew his family would understand. Though her emotions and reactions were different than the usual Dimitrou behavior, they would never begrudge her the chance to heal.
When she asked to see Chaoedia he couldn't help the smile, looking down at her and tipping up her chin in a move that felt bolder than what had transpired in the meadow. Pressing a soft kiss to her lips in spite of the sickness and tears, he nodded once more before pulling her back into a close embrace. It was early enough in the day yet though it felt so long, that they could easily make the journey to his province now if she wished.
"Of course. If you wish to pack we could leave now, and arrive just after sunset."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was difficult to determine how long they sat there together, wrapped in each other's embrace and clinging tight. She needed him to just be there, and so he was, and would be as long as she needed him to be. The way her hands played with the fabric of his clothing, brushing against the muscle beneath brought memory of when they sat in a very similar position out in the field not so long ago, though it felt as if a year had passed between now and then. Perhaps she didn't know what affect her touch had on him after all.
As her sobs quieted he kept humming, waiting until she finally fell silent and then spoke before he stopped. Her question had him nodding, brushing a hand through her hair at her forehead that had come out of the braided knots she'd tied it up in. "Anywhere, of course." They could venture to the seaside if it would make her feel more at home, or deeper into the woods or up the hills if she needed to be further from home. Wherever she asked of him he would take her, and he knew his family would understand. Though her emotions and reactions were different than the usual Dimitrou behavior, they would never begrudge her the chance to heal.
When she asked to see Chaoedia he couldn't help the smile, looking down at her and tipping up her chin in a move that felt bolder than what had transpired in the meadow. Pressing a soft kiss to her lips in spite of the sickness and tears, he nodded once more before pulling her back into a close embrace. It was early enough in the day yet though it felt so long, that they could easily make the journey to his province now if she wished.
"Of course. If you wish to pack we could leave now, and arrive just after sunset."
It was difficult to determine how long they sat there together, wrapped in each other's embrace and clinging tight. She needed him to just be there, and so he was, and would be as long as she needed him to be. The way her hands played with the fabric of his clothing, brushing against the muscle beneath brought memory of when they sat in a very similar position out in the field not so long ago, though it felt as if a year had passed between now and then. Perhaps she didn't know what affect her touch had on him after all.
As her sobs quieted he kept humming, waiting until she finally fell silent and then spoke before he stopped. Her question had him nodding, brushing a hand through her hair at her forehead that had come out of the braided knots she'd tied it up in. "Anywhere, of course." They could venture to the seaside if it would make her feel more at home, or deeper into the woods or up the hills if she needed to be further from home. Wherever she asked of him he would take her, and he knew his family would understand. Though her emotions and reactions were different than the usual Dimitrou behavior, they would never begrudge her the chance to heal.
When she asked to see Chaoedia he couldn't help the smile, looking down at her and tipping up her chin in a move that felt bolder than what had transpired in the meadow. Pressing a soft kiss to her lips in spite of the sickness and tears, he nodded once more before pulling her back into a close embrace. It was early enough in the day yet though it felt so long, that they could easily make the journey to his province now if she wished.
"Of course. If you wish to pack we could leave now, and arrive just after sunset."
When Iason immediately capitulated; instantly offering his aid however it could, Persephone felt guilt boil in her belly and her stomach clench over the hateful way circumstances had fallen. Why couldn't everything have just gone smoothly? she thought in child resentment. Why couldn't she be ruling Athenia right now, as Queen (like her father wanted), supporting Emilia (like her mother wanted), and married to Iason (like he wanted). Living a life where everyone around her was content and no feelings or hearts were hurt or broken.
Now, she had to return to Athenia. She had to protect her sister, become her guardian and dedicate herself to Emilia: her blood, her parents' legacy. But to do that would be to leave Iason. He talked of being together but the words weren't really registering. She had to be Emilia and she couldn't take Emilia from her home.
Perhaps the Gods had never intended her to permanently reside in Taengea. Perhaps this entirely voyage, recovery and the meetings of hearts that she and Iason had gradually found together was all something to be experienced but not lived with long term. Perhaps the divine beings had meant for her to learn some kind of lesson rather than live happily in Chaoedia. Perhaps it was all some giant joke for the hubris her father had instilled in her that she might be Queen above other men.
When Iason tilted her face around, Persephone's instinct was to pull away, to hide herself. Having been ill, crying... she could hardly be a sight to behold. But the man around whom she was wrapped had offered her so much, been so stable a support for her, that she had not to heart to turn away from him, his lips finding hers in a soft kiss that had her bones seem to heat, before he held her close once more.
When Iason suggested packing and leaving immediately, Persephone was tempted to agree. The faster they reached Chaoedia, the sooner she would be able to see it and know what it was she was determined to turn down. She needed to see it. To witness the real effects of her choice. Else suffer the question of 'what it?' forever. The sooner she did that, the sooner she could return to Athenia, choice made, with certainty in her heart.
But to leave now would mean they would arrive in darkness. Which meant she would have to wait for the morning anyway in order to witness the land and estate. And if she had to wait, she would prefer to do it alone. Where she could get her feelings once more contained, where she could find some sense of balance and serenity within herself and draw back upon the Persephone she had once been. Not this pathetic and tearful excuse of a young girl.
"Tomorrow..." Persephone simply murmured into his neck, breathing in the scent of him that was becoming so rapidly the scent of calm and peace... of home. "I need tonight to... adjust."
Carefully and with more awkwardness in her face than her body, for she still moved with the apparently godly given grace she possessed, Persephone shifted herself away and found herself back on the chair, and then back to her feet, as they both naturally drew back to standing.
"Thank you, Iason." She told him, careful to look directly into his eyes as she spoke. She wasn't sure what she was thanking him for - the wonderful morning, the experiences in the field, the support her had offered her - the fact that he had arranged for Demetrius to even find the letter stating that Emilia was alive. All of it. She was thanking him for all of it.
She leant up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek before she let go of his hands and then turned on her heel, leaving the room in a soft top of leather boots and the swaying wave of black hair that had come loose from its moorings and trailed behind her as silken banner of midnight.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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When Iason immediately capitulated; instantly offering his aid however it could, Persephone felt guilt boil in her belly and her stomach clench over the hateful way circumstances had fallen. Why couldn't everything have just gone smoothly? she thought in child resentment. Why couldn't she be ruling Athenia right now, as Queen (like her father wanted), supporting Emilia (like her mother wanted), and married to Iason (like he wanted). Living a life where everyone around her was content and no feelings or hearts were hurt or broken.
Now, she had to return to Athenia. She had to protect her sister, become her guardian and dedicate herself to Emilia: her blood, her parents' legacy. But to do that would be to leave Iason. He talked of being together but the words weren't really registering. She had to be Emilia and she couldn't take Emilia from her home.
Perhaps the Gods had never intended her to permanently reside in Taengea. Perhaps this entirely voyage, recovery and the meetings of hearts that she and Iason had gradually found together was all something to be experienced but not lived with long term. Perhaps the divine beings had meant for her to learn some kind of lesson rather than live happily in Chaoedia. Perhaps it was all some giant joke for the hubris her father had instilled in her that she might be Queen above other men.
When Iason tilted her face around, Persephone's instinct was to pull away, to hide herself. Having been ill, crying... she could hardly be a sight to behold. But the man around whom she was wrapped had offered her so much, been so stable a support for her, that she had not to heart to turn away from him, his lips finding hers in a soft kiss that had her bones seem to heat, before he held her close once more.
When Iason suggested packing and leaving immediately, Persephone was tempted to agree. The faster they reached Chaoedia, the sooner she would be able to see it and know what it was she was determined to turn down. She needed to see it. To witness the real effects of her choice. Else suffer the question of 'what it?' forever. The sooner she did that, the sooner she could return to Athenia, choice made, with certainty in her heart.
But to leave now would mean they would arrive in darkness. Which meant she would have to wait for the morning anyway in order to witness the land and estate. And if she had to wait, she would prefer to do it alone. Where she could get her feelings once more contained, where she could find some sense of balance and serenity within herself and draw back upon the Persephone she had once been. Not this pathetic and tearful excuse of a young girl.
"Tomorrow..." Persephone simply murmured into his neck, breathing in the scent of him that was becoming so rapidly the scent of calm and peace... of home. "I need tonight to... adjust."
Carefully and with more awkwardness in her face than her body, for she still moved with the apparently godly given grace she possessed, Persephone shifted herself away and found herself back on the chair, and then back to her feet, as they both naturally drew back to standing.
"Thank you, Iason." She told him, careful to look directly into his eyes as she spoke. She wasn't sure what she was thanking him for - the wonderful morning, the experiences in the field, the support her had offered her - the fact that he had arranged for Demetrius to even find the letter stating that Emilia was alive. All of it. She was thanking him for all of it.
She leant up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek before she let go of his hands and then turned on her heel, leaving the room in a soft top of leather boots and the swaying wave of black hair that had come loose from its moorings and trailed behind her as silken banner of midnight.
When Iason immediately capitulated; instantly offering his aid however it could, Persephone felt guilt boil in her belly and her stomach clench over the hateful way circumstances had fallen. Why couldn't everything have just gone smoothly? she thought in child resentment. Why couldn't she be ruling Athenia right now, as Queen (like her father wanted), supporting Emilia (like her mother wanted), and married to Iason (like he wanted). Living a life where everyone around her was content and no feelings or hearts were hurt or broken.
Now, she had to return to Athenia. She had to protect her sister, become her guardian and dedicate herself to Emilia: her blood, her parents' legacy. But to do that would be to leave Iason. He talked of being together but the words weren't really registering. She had to be Emilia and she couldn't take Emilia from her home.
Perhaps the Gods had never intended her to permanently reside in Taengea. Perhaps this entirely voyage, recovery and the meetings of hearts that she and Iason had gradually found together was all something to be experienced but not lived with long term. Perhaps the divine beings had meant for her to learn some kind of lesson rather than live happily in Chaoedia. Perhaps it was all some giant joke for the hubris her father had instilled in her that she might be Queen above other men.
When Iason tilted her face around, Persephone's instinct was to pull away, to hide herself. Having been ill, crying... she could hardly be a sight to behold. But the man around whom she was wrapped had offered her so much, been so stable a support for her, that she had not to heart to turn away from him, his lips finding hers in a soft kiss that had her bones seem to heat, before he held her close once more.
When Iason suggested packing and leaving immediately, Persephone was tempted to agree. The faster they reached Chaoedia, the sooner she would be able to see it and know what it was she was determined to turn down. She needed to see it. To witness the real effects of her choice. Else suffer the question of 'what it?' forever. The sooner she did that, the sooner she could return to Athenia, choice made, with certainty in her heart.
But to leave now would mean they would arrive in darkness. Which meant she would have to wait for the morning anyway in order to witness the land and estate. And if she had to wait, she would prefer to do it alone. Where she could get her feelings once more contained, where she could find some sense of balance and serenity within herself and draw back upon the Persephone she had once been. Not this pathetic and tearful excuse of a young girl.
"Tomorrow..." Persephone simply murmured into his neck, breathing in the scent of him that was becoming so rapidly the scent of calm and peace... of home. "I need tonight to... adjust."
Carefully and with more awkwardness in her face than her body, for she still moved with the apparently godly given grace she possessed, Persephone shifted herself away and found herself back on the chair, and then back to her feet, as they both naturally drew back to standing.
"Thank you, Iason." She told him, careful to look directly into his eyes as she spoke. She wasn't sure what she was thanking him for - the wonderful morning, the experiences in the field, the support her had offered her - the fact that he had arranged for Demetrius to even find the letter stating that Emilia was alive. All of it. She was thanking him for all of it.
She leant up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek before she let go of his hands and then turned on her heel, leaving the room in a soft top of leather boots and the swaying wave of black hair that had come loose from its moorings and trailed behind her as silken banner of midnight.