He stood with his back to her and his eyes on the jagged coast, looming up slower than he’d expected. For the past week, all he could think about was how much he hated her; the way she laughed and spoke to the women in the village, how her eyes brightened when they congratulated her on winning her freedom, how she flitted from place to place, burning with excitement. He hated how helpful she was being and how Arktos had started to put up with her nonsense the way he did with his whores; that sort of bark that had almost no bite.

Instead of watching her mend nets and sails, he’d taken one of the more labor intensive and sticky jobs of dobbing pitch to make the hull waterproof. It kept him busy and mostly out of sight. When that job was done, he’d kept busy with loading supplies, filling barrels with fresh water and rolling them onto the ship. More than anything, he didn’t want to speak to her.

The first night when he’d come back to the temple, he’d fully expected to be alone. Yet, when he came in and found her still there, the awkwardness fled and left him in cold indifference. He treated her as though she wasn’t there. What he did in his sleep, if he pulled her to him or if he pushed her away, was all unconsciously done, but come morning, he dressed and left the temple as though there was no one to stay for.

After two nights of this, he stayed away completely when he’d awoken to find himself pressed along her back with his face buried against her neck. His cabin did not bother him the way it bothered her and it was there that he spent the rest of his nights. While she remained on the island, he found the thought of one of the whores totally unappealing and yet he wouldn’t bring himself to go up to her. What he now found himself looking forward to, almost as much as she did, was leaving.

The three days on the open water were filled with brutal afternoons of baking sun on deck, and trapped, stifling heat below when they rowed. He drove them hard, barely letting up except when forced to do so or risk losing his men to exhaustion. At night, they all slept on deck under their cloaks as the cool sea breezes blew over them. Here too, he mostly ignored her presence and didn’t speak to her once, even when they’d somehow ended up side by side near the prow of the ship.

If she had questions, they were directed to Arktos. If he had orders, they were conveyed through Arktos. The big man was also more than ready to drop her off. His life would return to its normal cadence where he could judge what kind of mood his captain would be in from minute to minute; or perhaps even have the old Lukos back - the one who wasn’t in a barely controlled temper for the past week. Once, he’d tried to joke with Lukos only to be given latrine duty. “Shit job for a shit joke,” Lukos had said with a patronizing pat.

As much as he’d ignored her, as day faded into evening, and evening deepened into night, he found himself staring in her general direction more and more. She was more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. Occasionally she’d smile for no reason. He’d look away or go down below deck to row. Whenever she caught him looking, he’d clench his jaw and wait until she was the one to break eye contact.

“Land,” Arktos called, stumping across the deck. He leaned against Lukos, brushing shoulders with him and forcing him to side step. “You’re sure her family isn’t going to come after us?”

Lukos peered through the dark where he knew her to be. Her indistinct form was still too feminine to be mistaken for anyone else. She would betray him. He knew she would and strangely he couldn’t bring himself to care. “We’ll be fine,” he said, not believing a word of it.

Arktos evidently did. He nodded and pushed away from the railing to begin prepping for landfall. Lukos half turned, watching him before he caught sight of Thalia again. How she had such power to make him so blindingly angry for more than a week, he couldn’t say. It was exhausting to keep this much rage contained and he now found himself looking forward to her departure with as much enthusiasm as she did.

The ship came around the bend, heading straight for the cove. Having been here before, and knowing what he did now of the coast, he didn’t mind beaching the ship. What he did mind a little was how long it would take to get it back into the water. This was not the quick drop off he might have been able to do in the Aceton. She was still a fucking risk, even when taking her back.

It was unnerving to feel the ship’s keel scrape into the sand on the sea shelf. They stopped with water still lapping at the hull but shallow enough that she would drop into waist deep water. He turned and watched her slip onto the deck. Her whole body vibrated with energy.

This was the last time he would see her. There wasn’t enough moonlight to illuminate her face but he watched her anyway. He did not reach for her and he did not speak. Instead, he just looked, wondering if she knew what she was going back to.

He’d told her before that he didn’t want to take her back just for her to end up married, round with someone else’s children. Now? She would be. Being close to her was both alluring and offensive. No matter how angry, he would always be attracted to her. But he’d be damned if he touched her again, in anger or lust.

It was time for her to perform her alarming stunt of dropping from the ship. Lukos moved closer so that he voice wouldn’t carry. “Before you go,” he said. “I wanted to put your mind at ease.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he frowned, thinking of Imbrasus’s house when he’d come to take her back; how wild she’d looked, the beginnings of guilt on his part. “You’ll be perfectly safe with your family. No one will come for you while you’re there.”

He did not ask her house, or her father’s name. He didn’t want to know. If he didn’t know, it would be much more difficult to track her down and he had no desire at the moment to go chasing her. She wanted to leave? That was fine. She’d won her freedom. Like Arktos, she was a freeborn; able to come and go as she pleased.

They were at odds. There was nothing left between them and he was finding it easier and easier to resist touching her. He was almost calm while her gaze lingered elsewhere. Until she glanced up at him.

He knew this look. It nearly undid him. Immediately, he broke eye contact. She was not allowed to stir anything inside him anymore other than righteous fury. When she promised him that her family would not seek retribution, he chose to believe she was lying.

The soft way she spoke brought to mind things he was already hard at work to forget. He didn’t want to remember her breath in his ear or her nails dragging down his back. Life had been normal, predictable before she’d been trussed at his feet on this beach. Now she’d thrown it into constant uncertainty but she’d made him feel more alive somehow in the past three months than he'd ever felt in his life. It was like he’d just been drifting before; tethered to nothing and no one, going through the motions for no reason.

"Lukos...I..."

He looked up. Her voice dropped away. His heart hammered his chest painfully as though begging to put an end to this. One gesture and he could convince her to stay. That was all it would take, he was sure. He didn’t move. She needed to go.

An eternity stretched between them. He kept his arms tightly crossed. She shook her head, the familiar look in her eyes fading and crossed her arms as well. His opportunity to make her stay was gone.

"...Goodbye, Lukos.."

He turned his head.

Behind him, Arktos shifted uncomfortably. He glanced between Lukos and Thalia before stumping up to lay a heavy hand on Thalia’s shoulder. “Come on,” he said, his voice a little thicker and gruffer than usual. “You’re underfoot.” His big hand slid from her shoulder to her upper back, pushing her as gently as he did anything toward the rope ladder. After that, the bear stepped back and wiped his hand under his nose, sniffing as though he’d developed a sudden cold.

Lukos waited until she straddled the railing before closing the gap between them in a few short steps. He kept his arms crossed but leaned in so that only she could hear. “I hate you,” he murmured softly, the way he might have said other words that never passed between them. Without waiting for her reply, or for her to look at him, he turned and strode across the deck and disappeared below, shouting at his rowers to get start the process of unbeaching the ship. If she was to go, it would be now.

He didn’t see her climb down the rope ladder or check if she dropped into the shallows. Instead he took an empty place on the benches, gripped an oar, and dug the end of it into the sand, helping to haul the ship away from the beach. Away from her.

Only Arktos watched her go. He stayed on deck, hands on his hips, shaking his bald head, thinking how incredibly stupid two people could sometimes be. And, wondering, despite both the captain’s and the girl’s assurances, whether or not this whole adventure would still come back to bite them all.

"Papa, I don't feel well."

Diomedes had been sleeping soundly, but the moment the curtains pushed aside into the room he and his wife had shared, he was awake. The soft footfall meant it was his daughter, creeping into their room to search out comfort only a parent could bring. Had it been his son and not Evangeline, they would have heard the bull run into the room without any consideration for their slumber. He often called his light-footed daughter a fae, some sprite sent by the Gods to enchant the family. But now, with her small cherub face staring at him, he sighed gently.

"I'll get her." A groggy Sophia answered next to him, but he was quick to get out of bed, pressing a kiss to his wife's forehead.

"Sleep, sweet wife. I shall get her back to bed." His blessed wife spent all day chasing around their two children, and now that they were a bit older, it was rare that they were woken up in the middle of the night. But when it did happen, Diomedes tried to be the one who handled it. Slaves slept in separate quarters and were often oblivious to these nightly wake ups. But for Diomedes, he didn't mind them. His had spent so much time from home when they were small that he loved his quiet moments with his children. In the night, where slumber begged them down into its depths, he could make silly promises and tell stories that no one would tease him for the in morning's light. He'd done similar things with his brothers but had especially done so with Thailia.

His heart ached at the thought.

Pushing it aside, he scooped up his daughter and left the main bedroom. In the main living space, the pair made short work of the dance only a father and daughter would do. Slowly twirling, gently sharing whispered words and vows, it wasn't long before Evangeline was tucked back into her bed and dreaming of princesses and faes. It wasn't until he stepped back into the hall that he heard voices outside. He gave it pause, knowing that if he was needed, then he would be summoned. He was already awake, already heading to the door when the first solid knock hit the wood. Pulling the door open before a second could wake his house, Diomedes' face was angry. "There had better be armies at our gates if you are waking me at this hour." He warned. The soldier begged forgiveness, stating that he wouldn't have done so if not pressed upon by someone claiming to be a Thalia of Nikolaos.

His heart jumped into his throat as he pushed aside the soldier, spotting a wet, ragged girl who looked so small. Every day, for the past three months, he had investigated her obvious abduction. Diomedes had followed every lead to a dead end. He had spent countless amounts of poor information and vague hints as to her location. His father's vessel was out searching and had been within a few days of her disappearance. But they had so little to go on, and with such a vast head start, whoever took her was long gone. But he refused to give up hope. If anyone would be able to hold her own, it would be Thalia. Well trained with high spirits, whoever decided that she was easy pray would certainly find out that they were wrong.

He wasn't sure it was her, not from this distance. Stepping closer, he took in the state of her being. Dressed wet, soaked against the ground. Hair matted, almost looking deranged in its state. Diomedes approached carefully, "Thalia?" He asked gently, a quiet desperation in his voice. "Is that you, sister mine?" She most likely wouldn't recognize the thick emotion in his voice, wouldn't know the man whose heart had been taken from him the moment he found out she'd been taken.

It took him a moment to recover, and it was just enough for her to launch herself into his arms. They came around her tightly, as if she would disappear into a cloud of smoke if he let go. He let out a shaky laugh, his own head sinking into her matted hair. Gods, she stunk, but she was alive. Home. And for the most part, well. Tears escaped his eyes as his own sob broke through his lips. He was not an emotional man, but the loss of his sister had nearly broken him. Now with her returned, he could start to mend the pieces of his own heart back together. As soon as she stepped back a bit, his hands came up to her face, examining it closely for any signs of abuse.

She seemed, for the most part, fine. He could that there was a story, and he would want to hear it. But, for now, he focused on the immediate. He woke the kitchens, making them pull together a hot stew of fresh lamb meat and plums. While she ate, he woke Sophia. His wife was hesitant to help at first, but a simple look of begging from Diomedes and she was up, helping prepare a bath for her sister in law.

Letting the children sleep, he went to fix up the bedroom for her. The same man who had brought her to his house was sent to follow her tracks, to see if they could find exactly where she had come from. There was no telling what would be found, and he certainly didn't tell Thalia what he'd done. Instead, he took a moment to hug her once she came back into the room. Diomedes held her closely once more before he let her go, tucking her into bed like he had done when she was a child. Sophia was waiting for him outside of the room, pulling him into their bedroom. With some gentle prodding, she revealed that his sister hadn't revealed much about what had happened. The wound on her arm was concerning to them both, it's clean edges indicative of a blade caused injury. But it appeared to be healing well. Sophia pressed a kiss to his cheek, knowing that he would not be able to sleep until he found out what had happened.

Diomedes kissed his wife good night, taking up his post on the couch by her room.

And there he sat till morning.

He'd moved into his bedroom to change, hearing the light steps of his daughter heading into her Thalia's room. He could hear the conversation, could hear the giggles of his innocent little girl happy to have her aunt back in her life. Grabbing some fresh bread, he moved to a bench outside, knowing that he didn't want Sophia or the children to head the conversation they needed to have. When she sat down, he carefully scooped her up to sit on his lap, much like they had done as children. He tucked her head under his chin, arms coming around her tightly. He held onto her for a moment, savoring having her home again, before he finally broke the silence. "Are you ready to talk about what happen, Tally?" He asked gently, not wanting to press her if she wasn't ready.

Part of the reason he had pulled her onto his lap was that he hadn't wanted her to see his reactions to what she told him. He was normally fairly guarded in his reactions, able to control his face with years and years of practice. But this was his sister, someone he had loved so deeply-- he was sure that he wouldn't be able to control his face as she told him what had happened. From the scar on her arm, she knew it wasn't going to be a simple tale. But she moved away, and he scooted closer so that their knees were touching.

He listened, silently. At one point, he reached forward, taking her hand in his own. Diomedes wanted to support her, to let her know that he never blamed her for any of it.

As the story came out, he slowly rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, being gentle with her. He was sure there was more to the story. Rage worked its way up into his core, knowing that she was leaving out details for the sake of his own feelings. There was no way this was the whole truth. He wanted to press for more, wanted to urge her to tell him more. This was his sister, someone he had learned all her mannerisms, everything about her. There was something missing. And he wanted to force her to tell him what had really happened.

He had to suppress his training, had to stop himself from forcefully asking for names. This was his city. He was in charge of protecting its citizens, and he had failed the people closest to him in that. Diomedes wanted justice for her, for the city. The princess would want to know who had done it and would want there to be someone in the jail for the capture and sale of a noblewoman. "I need names, Tally. There is no way you were on that boat for 3 months without knowing the names of those who took you." His voice was soft, gentle. He had to find a line between Commander and brother. "Think, even if they are aliases, they will help us track down who did this." His hand reached out, caressing her cheek with much care. "Both the King and Princess will want to speak with you, you may tell them then."

He knew that she was holding back. And it frustrated him. Everything she had told him was pointing towards the need for retribution, and yet, she was not going to satisfy that.

He let her stand, watched her pace. He tried to listen to her reasoning and tried to see what she was getting at. But with each word, he was less and less likely to allow her to keep her secrets. When her arms came around him, he let her hold onto her for a moment. But when she sat back down, asking about their parents, he couldn't stop his reaction. Diomedes stood, unable to contain his frustration in the confines of a seated position. At home, he didn't wear his sword. It sat by the door, ready should he need it. A small knife was at his side, used for eating and cutting at meals. It would have to do. He pulled it from the leather band it was attached to and angrily threw it. Even with his emotions on high alert, he was deadly accurate with the weapon. It buried itself into the wood on a nearby tree.

"A disastrous misunderstanding would be taking the wrong crate and finding it full of bones instead of gold. A disastrous misunderstanding is not taking someone against their will!" He crossed the courtyard, grabbing the knife from the tree and slamming it into the ground. "Whether or not you wish to retaliate is beside the point, Thalia." Diomedes gathered his thoughts, knowing that months and months of pain were coming out to the forefront. "They have committed crimes against Athenia. Crimes that must be punished." His arms crossed in front of him, anger boiling but working to keep it at bay.

His sigh was deep, keeping his distance from her as he gathered his thoughts. "Do you understand what has been going on here? A member of a noble family was kidnapped. No one feels safe, and that reflects directly on me. And what's worse is that it was my own sister!" He moved to her now, pulling her into him in a standing position. His hug was crushing, for the first time revealing his fear."I thought I had lost you, Tally. And no one would have been to blame but me." He whispered into her hair. "I am in charge of the city's protection. How can I do that when I can't even protect the ones I love?" He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her silently for a few moments. He was trying to calm down, trying to be the brother she needed and not the commander who was trying to interrogate her for information.

"Tally, if you are concerned for the people on the island, no harm will come to them. I only want the ones responsible for your capture. The people will rest easy at night once they are in prison." He stepped back, ignoring the question as to their parents. "I cannot let it be when I have an entire city terrified for their own lives. This is bigger than you and me."

He was overreacting. But he had been the calm for months. Diomedes had to be the rock for his distraught mother, who had barely come out of the house since her disappearance. He had to be the anchor for his father, who was endless in his searching and buried himself in his work as a distraction. And he had to be the pillar to the community, calmly reassuring them that they were safe, regardless of his own concerns for his sister. He was, by no means, under the impression that it had been pleasant for her. It kept him up at night, thinking of the potential torture she'd been put through. Once news got out about her return, it would only be a matter of time before they had to work towards repairing her reputation as well.

And that was why he wanted justice.

Still, he listened with patience, as he always did. He appreciated her reassurance that she had been fighting to get back to them, but it did little to ease his desire for further justice. "You've got that right." He said, gently kicking her shin with his foot like he used to do when they were children. The action was playful, painless and so wholly grounding. "Maybe one day, you'll learn that we say things for a reason and not just because we want to put a damper on your fun." Diomedes sighed, once again kissing the top of her head. He had tried to distract himself with other things, but having her back made him realize just how much he had needed her in his life. And how lost he had felt without her. "Don't make me regret missing you." He teased gently, stepping back a bit.

He sighed, searching her face for any sign that she might give in to his wishes. But she was steel in this, and he was an anvil with no hammer. "Fine. If what you know is so important, we shall do as you wish. But, whatever he decides, you must allow his orders to be carried out." He was firm in his own stance, refusing to allow her to bend on that. "Can we agree on that much?" He asked, his hand under her chin so her eyes could meet his.