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He did not know that the birth had already happened or that his ‘fail safe’ in marrying Olympia, which would have been a triumph if she’d born a son, was, for the moment, useless. What he did notice, as Athanasia asked him, flat out, if he’d murdered his father and brother, that the ship below had gone quiet. Vangelis had walked up by then, was explaining his presence to the princess, who seemed to have a fairly good grasp on the situation.
Stephanos didn’t answer Athanasia’s question. He didn’t want to go over it again; not with the night’s events still fresh in his head and the sting of being enemy number one in his own kingdom only four days old. It was then that he looked down at himself, ignoring both Athanasia and Vangelis while they spoke to each other. He still wore the guard’s uniform from the palace. Part of him wanted to rip it off and fling it to the deck, but he hugged himself instead, staring at his sandaled feet.
Vaguely, he was aware of Vangelis asking him a question and he swung his gaze around, blinking at him. “What ails most?” he repeated and then his gaze rested on Athanasia. “That none of it mattered.” Not to mention that he had the blood of two men crying out from the grave for justice and all he’d managed to do was punch Irakles in the face and rub the battle with the Creed in the man’s face. Otherwise a lot of drinking and time wasting in trying to beat a master at politics.
He was back to leaning against the railing when he heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs from the hold. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Imeeya’s form coming up into the silver moonlight, giving her features a dimly lit glow. Her words came in a rush and he was half way across the deck and drumming down the stairs before he heard Athanasia’s question of gender.
Down below was near darkness but he felt his way along toward a door where candle light sliced under the frame. Opening it, he bumped almost immediately into Selene. The whole room seemed incredibly small. Pia was on the bed, looking spent and exhausted. An alarming amount of blood stained the sheets and then his gaze was drawn to Selene again and the still infant in her arms. His sister in law’s face was pale and she looked like she was trying to tell him bad news but a shrill, tiny little wail rose up from the wrinkled little baby in Selene’s arms.
Stephanos didn’t ask and he didn’t give her any warning. He simply scooped up the baby from her and cradled it against his chest, looking down in disbelief that this tiny human was here. Then, as he checked to make sure that the prince was all intact, all fingers and toes, he realized he wasn’t holding a boy at all. His heart stopped long enough for his chest to hurt. He blinked rapidly, like that might change reality.
All he could see was Irakles’s smug face and he could practically hear the drawl rolling out of the man’s mouth. “Congratulations, nephew. You couldn’t even give the kingdom a son.” He drew in a sharp breath and cut his eyes to Selene. Then he looked back down at his daughter and felt...nothing.
He didn’t take his eyes off the baby as he took heavy steps toward his wife. “Well done, Olympia.” He laid their daughter down on his wife’s chest, looking down now at the afterbirth on his clothes and thinking what a waist of fabric this now was. “A princess.”
Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he was out in the hall, blindly coming the stairs, and walking to the opposite end of the ship, away from everyone else. He could not find breath and when he finally did, he shouted a loud as he was able, until his throat hurt, cursing every single god he could think of. Then he sat down on the deck and held his head in his hands. He should have died in the arena. Or let Irakles slay him in the room. It didn’t matter anymore.
There was no prince to storm Taengea for. Just a daughter and a Leventi wife who’d cursed him with that daughter.
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Aug 20, 2019 13:49:36 GMT
Posted In Hera Guide Us on Aug 20, 2019 13:49:36 GMT
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He did not know that the birth had already happened or that his ‘fail safe’ in marrying Olympia, which would have been a triumph if she’d born a son, was, for the moment, useless. What he did notice, as Athanasia asked him, flat out, if he’d murdered his father and brother, that the ship below had gone quiet. Vangelis had walked up by then, was explaining his presence to the princess, who seemed to have a fairly good grasp on the situation.
Stephanos didn’t answer Athanasia’s question. He didn’t want to go over it again; not with the night’s events still fresh in his head and the sting of being enemy number one in his own kingdom only four days old. It was then that he looked down at himself, ignoring both Athanasia and Vangelis while they spoke to each other. He still wore the guard’s uniform from the palace. Part of him wanted to rip it off and fling it to the deck, but he hugged himself instead, staring at his sandaled feet.
Vaguely, he was aware of Vangelis asking him a question and he swung his gaze around, blinking at him. “What ails most?” he repeated and then his gaze rested on Athanasia. “That none of it mattered.” Not to mention that he had the blood of two men crying out from the grave for justice and all he’d managed to do was punch Irakles in the face and rub the battle with the Creed in the man’s face. Otherwise a lot of drinking and time wasting in trying to beat a master at politics.
He was back to leaning against the railing when he heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs from the hold. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Imeeya’s form coming up into the silver moonlight, giving her features a dimly lit glow. Her words came in a rush and he was half way across the deck and drumming down the stairs before he heard Athanasia’s question of gender.
Down below was near darkness but he felt his way along toward a door where candle light sliced under the frame. Opening it, he bumped almost immediately into Selene. The whole room seemed incredibly small. Pia was on the bed, looking spent and exhausted. An alarming amount of blood stained the sheets and then his gaze was drawn to Selene again and the still infant in her arms. His sister in law’s face was pale and she looked like she was trying to tell him bad news but a shrill, tiny little wail rose up from the wrinkled little baby in Selene’s arms.
Stephanos didn’t ask and he didn’t give her any warning. He simply scooped up the baby from her and cradled it against his chest, looking down in disbelief that this tiny human was here. Then, as he checked to make sure that the prince was all intact, all fingers and toes, he realized he wasn’t holding a boy at all. His heart stopped long enough for his chest to hurt. He blinked rapidly, like that might change reality.
All he could see was Irakles’s smug face and he could practically hear the drawl rolling out of the man’s mouth. “Congratulations, nephew. You couldn’t even give the kingdom a son.” He drew in a sharp breath and cut his eyes to Selene. Then he looked back down at his daughter and felt...nothing.
He didn’t take his eyes off the baby as he took heavy steps toward his wife. “Well done, Olympia.” He laid their daughter down on his wife’s chest, looking down now at the afterbirth on his clothes and thinking what a waist of fabric this now was. “A princess.”
Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he was out in the hall, blindly coming the stairs, and walking to the opposite end of the ship, away from everyone else. He could not find breath and when he finally did, he shouted a loud as he was able, until his throat hurt, cursing every single god he could think of. Then he sat down on the deck and held his head in his hands. He should have died in the arena. Or let Irakles slay him in the room. It didn’t matter anymore.
There was no prince to storm Taengea for. Just a daughter and a Leventi wife who’d cursed him with that daughter.
He did not know that the birth had already happened or that his ‘fail safe’ in marrying Olympia, which would have been a triumph if she’d born a son, was, for the moment, useless. What he did notice, as Athanasia asked him, flat out, if he’d murdered his father and brother, that the ship below had gone quiet. Vangelis had walked up by then, was explaining his presence to the princess, who seemed to have a fairly good grasp on the situation.
Stephanos didn’t answer Athanasia’s question. He didn’t want to go over it again; not with the night’s events still fresh in his head and the sting of being enemy number one in his own kingdom only four days old. It was then that he looked down at himself, ignoring both Athanasia and Vangelis while they spoke to each other. He still wore the guard’s uniform from the palace. Part of him wanted to rip it off and fling it to the deck, but he hugged himself instead, staring at his sandaled feet.
Vaguely, he was aware of Vangelis asking him a question and he swung his gaze around, blinking at him. “What ails most?” he repeated and then his gaze rested on Athanasia. “That none of it mattered.” Not to mention that he had the blood of two men crying out from the grave for justice and all he’d managed to do was punch Irakles in the face and rub the battle with the Creed in the man’s face. Otherwise a lot of drinking and time wasting in trying to beat a master at politics.
He was back to leaning against the railing when he heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs from the hold. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Imeeya’s form coming up into the silver moonlight, giving her features a dimly lit glow. Her words came in a rush and he was half way across the deck and drumming down the stairs before he heard Athanasia’s question of gender.
Down below was near darkness but he felt his way along toward a door where candle light sliced under the frame. Opening it, he bumped almost immediately into Selene. The whole room seemed incredibly small. Pia was on the bed, looking spent and exhausted. An alarming amount of blood stained the sheets and then his gaze was drawn to Selene again and the still infant in her arms. His sister in law’s face was pale and she looked like she was trying to tell him bad news but a shrill, tiny little wail rose up from the wrinkled little baby in Selene’s arms.
Stephanos didn’t ask and he didn’t give her any warning. He simply scooped up the baby from her and cradled it against his chest, looking down in disbelief that this tiny human was here. Then, as he checked to make sure that the prince was all intact, all fingers and toes, he realized he wasn’t holding a boy at all. His heart stopped long enough for his chest to hurt. He blinked rapidly, like that might change reality.
All he could see was Irakles’s smug face and he could practically hear the drawl rolling out of the man’s mouth. “Congratulations, nephew. You couldn’t even give the kingdom a son.” He drew in a sharp breath and cut his eyes to Selene. Then he looked back down at his daughter and felt...nothing.
He didn’t take his eyes off the baby as he took heavy steps toward his wife. “Well done, Olympia.” He laid their daughter down on his wife’s chest, looking down now at the afterbirth on his clothes and thinking what a waist of fabric this now was. “A princess.”
Before he was even aware of what he was doing, he was out in the hall, blindly coming the stairs, and walking to the opposite end of the ship, away from everyone else. He could not find breath and when he finally did, he shouted a loud as he was able, until his throat hurt, cursing every single god he could think of. Then he sat down on the deck and held his head in his hands. He should have died in the arena. Or let Irakles slay him in the room. It didn’t matter anymore.
There was no prince to storm Taengea for. Just a daughter and a Leventi wife who’d cursed him with that daughter.
Her body struggled to comply with Selene’s request, but as the silence stretched on without a cry from her child Olympia felt fear grip her heart, the sweat on her brow suddenly an icy glaze. What would happen if she had failed? If their son was dead, if worse it was a daughter, what would they have to fight for? She tried to push her torso up to see, but there was still so much pain she fell back to the cot with a hiss. How could it be that women did this over and over again, she had never felt so horribly weak and sick in her life even without the additional pain of birthing.
”Selene...is he..?”
Pia couldn’t pick the word to finish the question. Dead, alive, both could bring pain or joy and the sudden arrival of her husband interrupted whatever thought she couldn’t end. Holding her breath as Stephanos took the babe from her sister’s arms, the tiny wail that broke the silence allowed her heart to beat again, and she closed her eyes in relief with the knowledge that he was safe in his father’s arms.
Stephanos’ voice was less than thrilled as he spoke, and until he laid the child on her chest she didn’t know why. The face that was scrunched up as if she knew what a disappointment she was held no imperfections, indeed she was absolutely perfect in every way as far as her mother could see. Aside from her gender. Before she could say anything to her husband’s retreating back, the door had shut behind him and it was as if Hades himself had a hold of her heart. The keening sound of the disgraced queen’s misery barely registered as human to her own ears as it mingled with the cries of the baby, one growing weaker and the other more robust with time.
She felt cold, and then the weight of the child on her chest seemed to disappear, and it was as if she herself was weightless. The bleeding that had come with her daughter’s entrance to the world had not stopped, and it was impossible for her to keep going. The darkness and unfeeling was a welcome relief as she lost consciousness to the sound of the baby’s cries.
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Aug 20, 2019 16:22:31 GMT
Posted In Hera Guide Us on Aug 20, 2019 16:22:31 GMT
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Her body struggled to comply with Selene’s request, but as the silence stretched on without a cry from her child Olympia felt fear grip her heart, the sweat on her brow suddenly an icy glaze. What would happen if she had failed? If their son was dead, if worse it was a daughter, what would they have to fight for? She tried to push her torso up to see, but there was still so much pain she fell back to the cot with a hiss. How could it be that women did this over and over again, she had never felt so horribly weak and sick in her life even without the additional pain of birthing.
”Selene...is he..?”
Pia couldn’t pick the word to finish the question. Dead, alive, both could bring pain or joy and the sudden arrival of her husband interrupted whatever thought she couldn’t end. Holding her breath as Stephanos took the babe from her sister’s arms, the tiny wail that broke the silence allowed her heart to beat again, and she closed her eyes in relief with the knowledge that he was safe in his father’s arms.
Stephanos’ voice was less than thrilled as he spoke, and until he laid the child on her chest she didn’t know why. The face that was scrunched up as if she knew what a disappointment she was held no imperfections, indeed she was absolutely perfect in every way as far as her mother could see. Aside from her gender. Before she could say anything to her husband’s retreating back, the door had shut behind him and it was as if Hades himself had a hold of her heart. The keening sound of the disgraced queen’s misery barely registered as human to her own ears as it mingled with the cries of the baby, one growing weaker and the other more robust with time.
She felt cold, and then the weight of the child on her chest seemed to disappear, and it was as if she herself was weightless. The bleeding that had come with her daughter’s entrance to the world had not stopped, and it was impossible for her to keep going. The darkness and unfeeling was a welcome relief as she lost consciousness to the sound of the baby’s cries.
Her body struggled to comply with Selene’s request, but as the silence stretched on without a cry from her child Olympia felt fear grip her heart, the sweat on her brow suddenly an icy glaze. What would happen if she had failed? If their son was dead, if worse it was a daughter, what would they have to fight for? She tried to push her torso up to see, but there was still so much pain she fell back to the cot with a hiss. How could it be that women did this over and over again, she had never felt so horribly weak and sick in her life even without the additional pain of birthing.
”Selene...is he..?”
Pia couldn’t pick the word to finish the question. Dead, alive, both could bring pain or joy and the sudden arrival of her husband interrupted whatever thought she couldn’t end. Holding her breath as Stephanos took the babe from her sister’s arms, the tiny wail that broke the silence allowed her heart to beat again, and she closed her eyes in relief with the knowledge that he was safe in his father’s arms.
Stephanos’ voice was less than thrilled as he spoke, and until he laid the child on her chest she didn’t know why. The face that was scrunched up as if she knew what a disappointment she was held no imperfections, indeed she was absolutely perfect in every way as far as her mother could see. Aside from her gender. Before she could say anything to her husband’s retreating back, the door had shut behind him and it was as if Hades himself had a hold of her heart. The keening sound of the disgraced queen’s misery barely registered as human to her own ears as it mingled with the cries of the baby, one growing weaker and the other more robust with time.
She felt cold, and then the weight of the child on her chest seemed to disappear, and it was as if she herself was weightless. The bleeding that had come with her daughter’s entrance to the world had not stopped, and it was impossible for her to keep going. The darkness and unfeeling was a welcome relief as she lost consciousness to the sound of the baby’s cries.
As his sister asked whether or not their father, the King, would approve of their taking in the king of Taengea, Vangelis shot her a firm look. It was good that she was maturing and growing to understand the potential political pitfalls of certain choices... but it was improper to discuss or verbalise those issues before the person you were trying to aid.
"Father will support my decision." He told her, in a voice that was not chastising but also brokered no argument. And whilst Vangelis was not a hundred percent certain that his father would have made the same choice that he did, he was entirely certain that he would support his eldest son now that the choice had been made. King Tython and Crown Prince Vangelis worked in very similar ways, after all. Both were made of the kind of cloth that never lamented how things should be or second-guessed decisions that were past gone. Instead, they focused solely on the future and on how to manage that which they could still affect.
Moving over to speak with Stephanos, Vangelis wasn't sure how to respond to his reply. None of it made a difference? Perhaps not to the late King Zenon, or Prince Zacharias. Perhaps not to who was currently ruling Taengea. But Vangelis was pretty certain that Stephanos's choices had made a difference to his wife and child about to be born into the world. Had he not acted as he had, they would each be dead now alongside him.
Opening his mouth to state this, in the hopes of comforting the poor man who felt like he had lost everything at this moment, Vangelis bit his tongue when the Lady Imeeya arrived from below, ready to impart information that was far more significant than any small validation he could give to his friend.
At the announcement that the child had been born, Vangelis stepped hurriedly out of the way, as Stephanos almost mowed him down in an effort to reach below deck as soon as possible. When his cousin then turned to comment that hot water and wine were to be brought, Vangelis simply nodded.
"I had some fresh water heated at the oil burners at the prow." He told her, with a nod towards the front of the ship, where men should have been supporting large ceramic pots of water over the on-board torches. He might know little about childbirth, but he knew how to tend to wounds and warm, clean water, bandages and alcohol to numb the pain were always highly sought resources by field physicians. He then turned to his sister. "Fetch the extra blankets from my cabin below deck and ask in the galley for a skin of wine."
As the two women hurried to acquire the items in question - Imeeya to the front of the ship for the water and Asia below deck for the additional resources - Vangelis re-met with the ship's captain and the leader of the watch as the men transferred over for the evening shift. By the time Imeeya and Asia had disappeared to support Olympia, Vangelis could hear the thumping strides of the only other male guest on board.
Watching from the rudder as the King of Taengea stormed to the front of the vessel and cried out his frustrations, Vangelis felt his stomach drop and his throat swallow hard. Had the child died?
Heading down and across the ship, from rear to point, Vangelis took his time - walking at a normal pace that would neither alarm nor sneak up on his friend - but would also give him a few minutes before his arrival to calm himself. He eyed the two watchmen near the king as he passed, his expression sending them running so that he and Stephanos were left alone.
Moving to stand beside the man, Vangelis rested his forearms on the wall of the ship, leaning low and turned his head to assess his friend's features. He didn't say anything initially, unsure what or how to ask what eventuality below deck had occurred to cause such suffering and rage. When the man finally grew calm enough to look his way, Vangelis simply raised an inquiring eyebrow, allowing the runaway king the opportunity to confide or to ignore the gesture entirely and keep his concerns private...
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Aug 22, 2019 19:23:32 GMT
Posted In Hera Guide Us on Aug 22, 2019 19:23:32 GMT
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As his sister asked whether or not their father, the King, would approve of their taking in the king of Taengea, Vangelis shot her a firm look. It was good that she was maturing and growing to understand the potential political pitfalls of certain choices... but it was improper to discuss or verbalise those issues before the person you were trying to aid.
"Father will support my decision." He told her, in a voice that was not chastising but also brokered no argument. And whilst Vangelis was not a hundred percent certain that his father would have made the same choice that he did, he was entirely certain that he would support his eldest son now that the choice had been made. King Tython and Crown Prince Vangelis worked in very similar ways, after all. Both were made of the kind of cloth that never lamented how things should be or second-guessed decisions that were past gone. Instead, they focused solely on the future and on how to manage that which they could still affect.
Moving over to speak with Stephanos, Vangelis wasn't sure how to respond to his reply. None of it made a difference? Perhaps not to the late King Zenon, or Prince Zacharias. Perhaps not to who was currently ruling Taengea. But Vangelis was pretty certain that Stephanos's choices had made a difference to his wife and child about to be born into the world. Had he not acted as he had, they would each be dead now alongside him.
Opening his mouth to state this, in the hopes of comforting the poor man who felt like he had lost everything at this moment, Vangelis bit his tongue when the Lady Imeeya arrived from below, ready to impart information that was far more significant than any small validation he could give to his friend.
At the announcement that the child had been born, Vangelis stepped hurriedly out of the way, as Stephanos almost mowed him down in an effort to reach below deck as soon as possible. When his cousin then turned to comment that hot water and wine were to be brought, Vangelis simply nodded.
"I had some fresh water heated at the oil burners at the prow." He told her, with a nod towards the front of the ship, where men should have been supporting large ceramic pots of water over the on-board torches. He might know little about childbirth, but he knew how to tend to wounds and warm, clean water, bandages and alcohol to numb the pain were always highly sought resources by field physicians. He then turned to his sister. "Fetch the extra blankets from my cabin below deck and ask in the galley for a skin of wine."
As the two women hurried to acquire the items in question - Imeeya to the front of the ship for the water and Asia below deck for the additional resources - Vangelis re-met with the ship's captain and the leader of the watch as the men transferred over for the evening shift. By the time Imeeya and Asia had disappeared to support Olympia, Vangelis could hear the thumping strides of the only other male guest on board.
Watching from the rudder as the King of Taengea stormed to the front of the vessel and cried out his frustrations, Vangelis felt his stomach drop and his throat swallow hard. Had the child died?
Heading down and across the ship, from rear to point, Vangelis took his time - walking at a normal pace that would neither alarm nor sneak up on his friend - but would also give him a few minutes before his arrival to calm himself. He eyed the two watchmen near the king as he passed, his expression sending them running so that he and Stephanos were left alone.
Moving to stand beside the man, Vangelis rested his forearms on the wall of the ship, leaning low and turned his head to assess his friend's features. He didn't say anything initially, unsure what or how to ask what eventuality below deck had occurred to cause such suffering and rage. When the man finally grew calm enough to look his way, Vangelis simply raised an inquiring eyebrow, allowing the runaway king the opportunity to confide or to ignore the gesture entirely and keep his concerns private...
As his sister asked whether or not their father, the King, would approve of their taking in the king of Taengea, Vangelis shot her a firm look. It was good that she was maturing and growing to understand the potential political pitfalls of certain choices... but it was improper to discuss or verbalise those issues before the person you were trying to aid.
"Father will support my decision." He told her, in a voice that was not chastising but also brokered no argument. And whilst Vangelis was not a hundred percent certain that his father would have made the same choice that he did, he was entirely certain that he would support his eldest son now that the choice had been made. King Tython and Crown Prince Vangelis worked in very similar ways, after all. Both were made of the kind of cloth that never lamented how things should be or second-guessed decisions that were past gone. Instead, they focused solely on the future and on how to manage that which they could still affect.
Moving over to speak with Stephanos, Vangelis wasn't sure how to respond to his reply. None of it made a difference? Perhaps not to the late King Zenon, or Prince Zacharias. Perhaps not to who was currently ruling Taengea. But Vangelis was pretty certain that Stephanos's choices had made a difference to his wife and child about to be born into the world. Had he not acted as he had, they would each be dead now alongside him.
Opening his mouth to state this, in the hopes of comforting the poor man who felt like he had lost everything at this moment, Vangelis bit his tongue when the Lady Imeeya arrived from below, ready to impart information that was far more significant than any small validation he could give to his friend.
At the announcement that the child had been born, Vangelis stepped hurriedly out of the way, as Stephanos almost mowed him down in an effort to reach below deck as soon as possible. When his cousin then turned to comment that hot water and wine were to be brought, Vangelis simply nodded.
"I had some fresh water heated at the oil burners at the prow." He told her, with a nod towards the front of the ship, where men should have been supporting large ceramic pots of water over the on-board torches. He might know little about childbirth, but he knew how to tend to wounds and warm, clean water, bandages and alcohol to numb the pain were always highly sought resources by field physicians. He then turned to his sister. "Fetch the extra blankets from my cabin below deck and ask in the galley for a skin of wine."
As the two women hurried to acquire the items in question - Imeeya to the front of the ship for the water and Asia below deck for the additional resources - Vangelis re-met with the ship's captain and the leader of the watch as the men transferred over for the evening shift. By the time Imeeya and Asia had disappeared to support Olympia, Vangelis could hear the thumping strides of the only other male guest on board.
Watching from the rudder as the King of Taengea stormed to the front of the vessel and cried out his frustrations, Vangelis felt his stomach drop and his throat swallow hard. Had the child died?
Heading down and across the ship, from rear to point, Vangelis took his time - walking at a normal pace that would neither alarm nor sneak up on his friend - but would also give him a few minutes before his arrival to calm himself. He eyed the two watchmen near the king as he passed, his expression sending them running so that he and Stephanos were left alone.
Moving to stand beside the man, Vangelis rested his forearms on the wall of the ship, leaning low and turned his head to assess his friend's features. He didn't say anything initially, unsure what or how to ask what eventuality below deck had occurred to cause such suffering and rage. When the man finally grew calm enough to look his way, Vangelis simply raised an inquiring eyebrow, allowing the runaway king the opportunity to confide or to ignore the gesture entirely and keep his concerns private...
Imeeya was still quite unsettled by the color of the child who had been born, but she tried not to show it on her face. However, when Asia asked after the gender of the child, Imeeya found herself flustered. “I don’t know,” she admitted to her cousins. She had been too worried about the fate of the child to see whether or not it was a boy or a girl. At Vangelis’s words, Imeeya hurried to the front of the ship to grab some hot water to help with the baby. She was relieved to have something concrete that she could do to help. She heard his words to Asia as she rushed off, and realized that “Bring it to the room once you’ve found it,” Imeeya added unnecessarily to Vang’s instructions. Yet, it gave her a sense of control over the situation to give Asia orders as if she had a clue what was actually happening.
Heading up to the front of the ship, Imeeya found the water heating as Vangelis had indicated. The men who had been in charge of heating it helped her to pour it into a clay jar, which would insulate her hands from the heat of the water, at the very least long enough for her to carry it back down to the room with Olympia and Selene. As Imeeya carried the jar of water back down the stairs, she passed by an upset looking Stephanos. Had the baby died? Had Olympia died? She was well aware that babies and mothers both often died in childbirth. Imeeya sped up, hoping that she might be bringing the water back in time to be of any help.
As she entered, she felt slightly less worried, as she heard the cries coming from the baby. It, at least, had survived. Then she felt her stomach clench, what of the queen? Imeeya’s worst fears were confirmed as she saw Olympia pale and unconscious on the bed. “I’ve got the hot water,” Imeeya told Selene as she set the jar on the floor out of the way. “Asia should be bringing the wine and some extra blankets.” Imeeya looked back over at the queen and the crying baby, concern evident in her face. “What do I need to do?” she asked Selene, assuming the woman had a better idea of what needed to be done in the situation.
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Aug 23, 2019 20:00:12 GMT
Posted In Hera Guide Us on Aug 23, 2019 20:00:12 GMT
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Imeeya was still quite unsettled by the color of the child who had been born, but she tried not to show it on her face. However, when Asia asked after the gender of the child, Imeeya found herself flustered. “I don’t know,” she admitted to her cousins. She had been too worried about the fate of the child to see whether or not it was a boy or a girl. At Vangelis’s words, Imeeya hurried to the front of the ship to grab some hot water to help with the baby. She was relieved to have something concrete that she could do to help. She heard his words to Asia as she rushed off, and realized that “Bring it to the room once you’ve found it,” Imeeya added unnecessarily to Vang’s instructions. Yet, it gave her a sense of control over the situation to give Asia orders as if she had a clue what was actually happening.
Heading up to the front of the ship, Imeeya found the water heating as Vangelis had indicated. The men who had been in charge of heating it helped her to pour it into a clay jar, which would insulate her hands from the heat of the water, at the very least long enough for her to carry it back down to the room with Olympia and Selene. As Imeeya carried the jar of water back down the stairs, she passed by an upset looking Stephanos. Had the baby died? Had Olympia died? She was well aware that babies and mothers both often died in childbirth. Imeeya sped up, hoping that she might be bringing the water back in time to be of any help.
As she entered, she felt slightly less worried, as she heard the cries coming from the baby. It, at least, had survived. Then she felt her stomach clench, what of the queen? Imeeya’s worst fears were confirmed as she saw Olympia pale and unconscious on the bed. “I’ve got the hot water,” Imeeya told Selene as she set the jar on the floor out of the way. “Asia should be bringing the wine and some extra blankets.” Imeeya looked back over at the queen and the crying baby, concern evident in her face. “What do I need to do?” she asked Selene, assuming the woman had a better idea of what needed to be done in the situation.
Imeeya was still quite unsettled by the color of the child who had been born, but she tried not to show it on her face. However, when Asia asked after the gender of the child, Imeeya found herself flustered. “I don’t know,” she admitted to her cousins. She had been too worried about the fate of the child to see whether or not it was a boy or a girl. At Vangelis’s words, Imeeya hurried to the front of the ship to grab some hot water to help with the baby. She was relieved to have something concrete that she could do to help. She heard his words to Asia as she rushed off, and realized that “Bring it to the room once you’ve found it,” Imeeya added unnecessarily to Vang’s instructions. Yet, it gave her a sense of control over the situation to give Asia orders as if she had a clue what was actually happening.
Heading up to the front of the ship, Imeeya found the water heating as Vangelis had indicated. The men who had been in charge of heating it helped her to pour it into a clay jar, which would insulate her hands from the heat of the water, at the very least long enough for her to carry it back down to the room with Olympia and Selene. As Imeeya carried the jar of water back down the stairs, she passed by an upset looking Stephanos. Had the baby died? Had Olympia died? She was well aware that babies and mothers both often died in childbirth. Imeeya sped up, hoping that she might be bringing the water back in time to be of any help.
As she entered, she felt slightly less worried, as she heard the cries coming from the baby. It, at least, had survived. Then she felt her stomach clench, what of the queen? Imeeya’s worst fears were confirmed as she saw Olympia pale and unconscious on the bed. “I’ve got the hot water,” Imeeya told Selene as she set the jar on the floor out of the way. “Asia should be bringing the wine and some extra blankets.” Imeeya looked back over at the queen and the crying baby, concern evident in her face. “What do I need to do?” she asked Selene, assuming the woman had a better idea of what needed to be done in the situation.
This was not something she had any experience in. Watching and actually doing are two different things, and she had never actively assisted her mother in the birth of her sisters. Holding a baby, possibly. But she had always just been watching from the outside, leaving it up to the experts to make sure she received the proper care. Never had the health and wellness been up to her.
She was certain that the terror was written all over her face.
It was as if the child knew the moment her father walked into the room, loudly protesting its entrance into the world. Relief washed over her as Stephanos took the baby from her, seemingly to check its health and gender. She stepped back, to give the family a moment, before watching his face fall with disappointment. At the announcement of a princess, Selene closed her eyes.
A prince would have solved so many issues. A prince would have given him a reason to fight. But a princess was just a political power piece in any game, and wouldn’t be useful until she was of age to wed. At least there was care in the way he set her onto his wife’s chest, even if his words were harsh and blunt. Selene tried to stop his exit, but he was gone before she could say anything at all.
His exit had taken the life out of the room, and it was then that Selene cursed him silently. She watched as her sister lost consciousness, rushing forward to catch the princess before she tumbled to the ground with the rocking of the ship. She looked over the girl, doing as Stephanos had in counting fingers and toes. Making hushing sounds, Selene was trying to multitask in checking on her sister as Imeeya walked in. “Can you take her.” She asked as she wrapped the infant into a blanket from the bed, handing her over to the other woman to care for.
“Pia?” She asked as she moved to her sister’s side, trying to get the woman to come around. Pulling up her skirts once more, a large pool of blood covered the bed. She silently cursed Stephanos again (for she was sure this was his fault), before taking a closer look at the half of the cord still attached to the Queen. It was leaking out, pooling the blood below. Selene ripped a piece of cloth from the bottom of the Queen’s dress, using it to tie off just above where she had originally sealed off the afterbirth. That seemed to help, the flow stopping just as soon as she tightened it.
And yet, the after birth hadn’t appeared yet.
She had once seen the midwife gently pull on the cord close to her mother’s entrance, and it seemed like her only option as well. With a gentle pull, timed almost perfectly with the next contraction, she put some traction onto the cord. She felt it release from the wall, slipping out onto the bed. Wrapping it up in the last blanket, Selene let out a sigh of relief. From what she could tell, the bleeding seemed to stop.
She didn’t expect Pia to regain consciousness right away. But Selene got to work as quickly as she could, using the hot water and remaining clothes to clean up her sister. New bedding was found, but Selene wouldn’t be able to change it until her sister woke back up. Once she was as set as she could be, Selene moved back to the baby, exposing her from the warm cocoon of blankets with a wet cloth.
“Shhhh, it’s okay.” Still in Imeeya’s embrace, she washed off the little girl, speaking in soft tones, nonsense in the conversation she was making with the now quiet by alert baby. It wouldn’t be long before she was searching for breast, but the little thing seemed to be content on the hand it had found. “My lady, she does seem to like you.” She said with a smile, glad that at least she seemed to be okay. Her color was improving as time went on, and her bright blue eyes were focusing on everything and nothing around her.
She was perfect.
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Aug 26, 2019 18:12:35 GMT
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This was not something she had any experience in. Watching and actually doing are two different things, and she had never actively assisted her mother in the birth of her sisters. Holding a baby, possibly. But she had always just been watching from the outside, leaving it up to the experts to make sure she received the proper care. Never had the health and wellness been up to her.
She was certain that the terror was written all over her face.
It was as if the child knew the moment her father walked into the room, loudly protesting its entrance into the world. Relief washed over her as Stephanos took the baby from her, seemingly to check its health and gender. She stepped back, to give the family a moment, before watching his face fall with disappointment. At the announcement of a princess, Selene closed her eyes.
A prince would have solved so many issues. A prince would have given him a reason to fight. But a princess was just a political power piece in any game, and wouldn’t be useful until she was of age to wed. At least there was care in the way he set her onto his wife’s chest, even if his words were harsh and blunt. Selene tried to stop his exit, but he was gone before she could say anything at all.
His exit had taken the life out of the room, and it was then that Selene cursed him silently. She watched as her sister lost consciousness, rushing forward to catch the princess before she tumbled to the ground with the rocking of the ship. She looked over the girl, doing as Stephanos had in counting fingers and toes. Making hushing sounds, Selene was trying to multitask in checking on her sister as Imeeya walked in. “Can you take her.” She asked as she wrapped the infant into a blanket from the bed, handing her over to the other woman to care for.
“Pia?” She asked as she moved to her sister’s side, trying to get the woman to come around. Pulling up her skirts once more, a large pool of blood covered the bed. She silently cursed Stephanos again (for she was sure this was his fault), before taking a closer look at the half of the cord still attached to the Queen. It was leaking out, pooling the blood below. Selene ripped a piece of cloth from the bottom of the Queen’s dress, using it to tie off just above where she had originally sealed off the afterbirth. That seemed to help, the flow stopping just as soon as she tightened it.
And yet, the after birth hadn’t appeared yet.
She had once seen the midwife gently pull on the cord close to her mother’s entrance, and it seemed like her only option as well. With a gentle pull, timed almost perfectly with the next contraction, she put some traction onto the cord. She felt it release from the wall, slipping out onto the bed. Wrapping it up in the last blanket, Selene let out a sigh of relief. From what she could tell, the bleeding seemed to stop.
She didn’t expect Pia to regain consciousness right away. But Selene got to work as quickly as she could, using the hot water and remaining clothes to clean up her sister. New bedding was found, but Selene wouldn’t be able to change it until her sister woke back up. Once she was as set as she could be, Selene moved back to the baby, exposing her from the warm cocoon of blankets with a wet cloth.
“Shhhh, it’s okay.” Still in Imeeya’s embrace, she washed off the little girl, speaking in soft tones, nonsense in the conversation she was making with the now quiet by alert baby. It wouldn’t be long before she was searching for breast, but the little thing seemed to be content on the hand it had found. “My lady, she does seem to like you.” She said with a smile, glad that at least she seemed to be okay. Her color was improving as time went on, and her bright blue eyes were focusing on everything and nothing around her.
She was perfect.
This was not something she had any experience in. Watching and actually doing are two different things, and she had never actively assisted her mother in the birth of her sisters. Holding a baby, possibly. But she had always just been watching from the outside, leaving it up to the experts to make sure she received the proper care. Never had the health and wellness been up to her.
She was certain that the terror was written all over her face.
It was as if the child knew the moment her father walked into the room, loudly protesting its entrance into the world. Relief washed over her as Stephanos took the baby from her, seemingly to check its health and gender. She stepped back, to give the family a moment, before watching his face fall with disappointment. At the announcement of a princess, Selene closed her eyes.
A prince would have solved so many issues. A prince would have given him a reason to fight. But a princess was just a political power piece in any game, and wouldn’t be useful until she was of age to wed. At least there was care in the way he set her onto his wife’s chest, even if his words were harsh and blunt. Selene tried to stop his exit, but he was gone before she could say anything at all.
His exit had taken the life out of the room, and it was then that Selene cursed him silently. She watched as her sister lost consciousness, rushing forward to catch the princess before she tumbled to the ground with the rocking of the ship. She looked over the girl, doing as Stephanos had in counting fingers and toes. Making hushing sounds, Selene was trying to multitask in checking on her sister as Imeeya walked in. “Can you take her.” She asked as she wrapped the infant into a blanket from the bed, handing her over to the other woman to care for.
“Pia?” She asked as she moved to her sister’s side, trying to get the woman to come around. Pulling up her skirts once more, a large pool of blood covered the bed. She silently cursed Stephanos again (for she was sure this was his fault), before taking a closer look at the half of the cord still attached to the Queen. It was leaking out, pooling the blood below. Selene ripped a piece of cloth from the bottom of the Queen’s dress, using it to tie off just above where she had originally sealed off the afterbirth. That seemed to help, the flow stopping just as soon as she tightened it.
And yet, the after birth hadn’t appeared yet.
She had once seen the midwife gently pull on the cord close to her mother’s entrance, and it seemed like her only option as well. With a gentle pull, timed almost perfectly with the next contraction, she put some traction onto the cord. She felt it release from the wall, slipping out onto the bed. Wrapping it up in the last blanket, Selene let out a sigh of relief. From what she could tell, the bleeding seemed to stop.
She didn’t expect Pia to regain consciousness right away. But Selene got to work as quickly as she could, using the hot water and remaining clothes to clean up her sister. New bedding was found, but Selene wouldn’t be able to change it until her sister woke back up. Once she was as set as she could be, Selene moved back to the baby, exposing her from the warm cocoon of blankets with a wet cloth.
“Shhhh, it’s okay.” Still in Imeeya’s embrace, she washed off the little girl, speaking in soft tones, nonsense in the conversation she was making with the now quiet by alert baby. It wouldn’t be long before she was searching for breast, but the little thing seemed to be content on the hand it had found. “My lady, she does seem to like you.” She said with a smile, glad that at least she seemed to be okay. Her color was improving as time went on, and her bright blue eyes were focusing on everything and nothing around her.
She was perfect.
One auburn eyebrow arched upwards at the chastising look Vangelis gave her. Athanasia had never been known for her tact and she saw nothing wrong with voicing her concern over her brother's actions, even in front of King Stephanos. Surely, the Taengean ruler had wondered the same thing ... whether or not he and his Queen would be accepted on Colchian shores. Vang seemed confident that their father would support his decision, and she hoped that he was right. It wasn't as if they would be able to hide their presence for long, and Prince Irakles might demand their return. The Grecian kingdoms didn't need to quarrel among themselves when they should be united against Egypt.
Stephanos didn't answer her question and she immediately regretted asking it. She could have worded it a lot better, Now the king might have the impression that she believed him capable of regicide/patricide and fratricide. Athanasia had believed him innocent from the moment that she had heard of the accusations against him. How could a man who enjoyed picking flowers and pranking his friends be a cold-blooded murderer?
She flinched when he looked directly at her while answering Vang's inquiry. Did he think that nothing mattered because of what she had said? Maybe sometime during the long journey home, she would get the chance to explain that she had never doubted his innocence.
Immeya's arrival and announcement dispelled some of her awkwardness. The king hurtled down the stairs to see his new child, and Vangelis issued orders to both girls. Athanasia nodded and headed below deck to carry out his request. She went to the galley to get the wine first, not surprised that the ship's cook, who bowed to her respectfully, wouldn't let her in. A princess had no place in his domain. He was, however, happy to provide her with two skins of the best wine on the ship.
She then went to her brother's cabin to get the blankets, setting the wineskins on a table while she folded them so that they would be easier to carry. They were still rather bulky so she threw them over one shoulder, picked up the wineskins and made her way through the gently swaying corridor, following the sound of voices to the cabin that contained Lady Selene, Queen Olympia, and Imeeya.
Imeeya held the baby while Selene washed her off. The queen lay unconscious on the bed. Was she dead? No, Athanasia could see her chest rising and falling. She was most likely just exhausted. The princess knew very little about childbirth other than that it was an arduous experience that sometimes took the lives of both mother and child. She rather hoped to avoid it herself, though she knew that whomever her father chose for her would want heirs of his own, particularly if she was married to a King.
“What do you want me to do with these?” she asked Lady Selene.
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Aug 26, 2019 19:33:56 GMT
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One auburn eyebrow arched upwards at the chastising look Vangelis gave her. Athanasia had never been known for her tact and she saw nothing wrong with voicing her concern over her brother's actions, even in front of King Stephanos. Surely, the Taengean ruler had wondered the same thing ... whether or not he and his Queen would be accepted on Colchian shores. Vang seemed confident that their father would support his decision, and she hoped that he was right. It wasn't as if they would be able to hide their presence for long, and Prince Irakles might demand their return. The Grecian kingdoms didn't need to quarrel among themselves when they should be united against Egypt.
Stephanos didn't answer her question and she immediately regretted asking it. She could have worded it a lot better, Now the king might have the impression that she believed him capable of regicide/patricide and fratricide. Athanasia had believed him innocent from the moment that she had heard of the accusations against him. How could a man who enjoyed picking flowers and pranking his friends be a cold-blooded murderer?
She flinched when he looked directly at her while answering Vang's inquiry. Did he think that nothing mattered because of what she had said? Maybe sometime during the long journey home, she would get the chance to explain that she had never doubted his innocence.
Immeya's arrival and announcement dispelled some of her awkwardness. The king hurtled down the stairs to see his new child, and Vangelis issued orders to both girls. Athanasia nodded and headed below deck to carry out his request. She went to the galley to get the wine first, not surprised that the ship's cook, who bowed to her respectfully, wouldn't let her in. A princess had no place in his domain. He was, however, happy to provide her with two skins of the best wine on the ship.
She then went to her brother's cabin to get the blankets, setting the wineskins on a table while she folded them so that they would be easier to carry. They were still rather bulky so she threw them over one shoulder, picked up the wineskins and made her way through the gently swaying corridor, following the sound of voices to the cabin that contained Lady Selene, Queen Olympia, and Imeeya.
Imeeya held the baby while Selene washed her off. The queen lay unconscious on the bed. Was she dead? No, Athanasia could see her chest rising and falling. She was most likely just exhausted. The princess knew very little about childbirth other than that it was an arduous experience that sometimes took the lives of both mother and child. She rather hoped to avoid it herself, though she knew that whomever her father chose for her would want heirs of his own, particularly if she was married to a King.
“What do you want me to do with these?” she asked Lady Selene.
One auburn eyebrow arched upwards at the chastising look Vangelis gave her. Athanasia had never been known for her tact and she saw nothing wrong with voicing her concern over her brother's actions, even in front of King Stephanos. Surely, the Taengean ruler had wondered the same thing ... whether or not he and his Queen would be accepted on Colchian shores. Vang seemed confident that their father would support his decision, and she hoped that he was right. It wasn't as if they would be able to hide their presence for long, and Prince Irakles might demand their return. The Grecian kingdoms didn't need to quarrel among themselves when they should be united against Egypt.
Stephanos didn't answer her question and she immediately regretted asking it. She could have worded it a lot better, Now the king might have the impression that she believed him capable of regicide/patricide and fratricide. Athanasia had believed him innocent from the moment that she had heard of the accusations against him. How could a man who enjoyed picking flowers and pranking his friends be a cold-blooded murderer?
She flinched when he looked directly at her while answering Vang's inquiry. Did he think that nothing mattered because of what she had said? Maybe sometime during the long journey home, she would get the chance to explain that she had never doubted his innocence.
Immeya's arrival and announcement dispelled some of her awkwardness. The king hurtled down the stairs to see his new child, and Vangelis issued orders to both girls. Athanasia nodded and headed below deck to carry out his request. She went to the galley to get the wine first, not surprised that the ship's cook, who bowed to her respectfully, wouldn't let her in. A princess had no place in his domain. He was, however, happy to provide her with two skins of the best wine on the ship.
She then went to her brother's cabin to get the blankets, setting the wineskins on a table while she folded them so that they would be easier to carry. They were still rather bulky so she threw them over one shoulder, picked up the wineskins and made her way through the gently swaying corridor, following the sound of voices to the cabin that contained Lady Selene, Queen Olympia, and Imeeya.
Imeeya held the baby while Selene washed her off. The queen lay unconscious on the bed. Was she dead? No, Athanasia could see her chest rising and falling. She was most likely just exhausted. The princess knew very little about childbirth other than that it was an arduous experience that sometimes took the lives of both mother and child. She rather hoped to avoid it herself, though she knew that whomever her father chose for her would want heirs of his own, particularly if she was married to a King.
“What do you want me to do with these?” she asked Lady Selene.
Somewhere within him, he knew that if this birth had happened in completely different circumstances - if he wasn’t king, for example, or even if he was, if Irakles wasn’t actively swiping the throne from him, he’d have been elated with his daughter. There was always time to try for a son at some point. At worst, if he only ever had daughters, he could have chosen the man to be king after him and allowed his grandchildren to sit on the throne to still be of his line. Possibly the son of Achilleas or Emilios, just to keep a Mikaelidas on the throne.
None of that was possible or mattered now. What had mattered was that she’d been a boy. A rallying point. Proof that, whatever else, Stephanos could at least provide the country an heir. But no. He’d given Taengea a daughter. Useless.
He glanced down at his own hand, realizing suddenly that there was burning pain there. When he opened his fist, he found four crescent shaped nail marks, showing red and beginning to bleed. Flexing his hand to ease the minor pain, he stiffened when he heard Vangelis approaching, but he didn’t move away. Letting the man settle beside him, he side eyed him and then let his shoulders sag.
For a long while, he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. But he knew Vangelis was waiting for an answer, even if the prince wouldn’t verbalize it. Besides, there was no way to hide it, and the truth would be evident within a few minutes anyway. There were no secrets on a ship. Not with something this important.
“My daughter lives,” he muttered and then dropped his head, glaring at the railing. “I shouldn’t have married her.” He drew in a sharp, bitter breath and exhaled it just as quickly. Covering his mouth, he shook his head. “I have made so many mistakes. And do you know the stupidest part about all this?” he demanded. “I love her. That’s the most idiotic part of this. She will only give me daughters.”
What he meant, was that he loved his wife and he wouldn’t seek any sort of separation, legal or otherwise from her in order to get a son. He’d stay with her, kingdom or not, daughter or not, and that he knew it was unwise to do so. Morally right, and politically stupid.
“Leventi women seem to be cursed with girls and I didn’t remember that when I asked her to marry me. All I saw was the potential for an heir already there.” He didn’t bother to hide his bitterness and he didn’t care how he sounded. He didn’t care if Vangelis thought him simple or if the whole ship hated him, because they could form a line behind all the men who’d made their flight into exile necessary.
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Aug 28, 2019 13:49:01 GMT
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Somewhere within him, he knew that if this birth had happened in completely different circumstances - if he wasn’t king, for example, or even if he was, if Irakles wasn’t actively swiping the throne from him, he’d have been elated with his daughter. There was always time to try for a son at some point. At worst, if he only ever had daughters, he could have chosen the man to be king after him and allowed his grandchildren to sit on the throne to still be of his line. Possibly the son of Achilleas or Emilios, just to keep a Mikaelidas on the throne.
None of that was possible or mattered now. What had mattered was that she’d been a boy. A rallying point. Proof that, whatever else, Stephanos could at least provide the country an heir. But no. He’d given Taengea a daughter. Useless.
He glanced down at his own hand, realizing suddenly that there was burning pain there. When he opened his fist, he found four crescent shaped nail marks, showing red and beginning to bleed. Flexing his hand to ease the minor pain, he stiffened when he heard Vangelis approaching, but he didn’t move away. Letting the man settle beside him, he side eyed him and then let his shoulders sag.
For a long while, he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. But he knew Vangelis was waiting for an answer, even if the prince wouldn’t verbalize it. Besides, there was no way to hide it, and the truth would be evident within a few minutes anyway. There were no secrets on a ship. Not with something this important.
“My daughter lives,” he muttered and then dropped his head, glaring at the railing. “I shouldn’t have married her.” He drew in a sharp, bitter breath and exhaled it just as quickly. Covering his mouth, he shook his head. “I have made so many mistakes. And do you know the stupidest part about all this?” he demanded. “I love her. That’s the most idiotic part of this. She will only give me daughters.”
What he meant, was that he loved his wife and he wouldn’t seek any sort of separation, legal or otherwise from her in order to get a son. He’d stay with her, kingdom or not, daughter or not, and that he knew it was unwise to do so. Morally right, and politically stupid.
“Leventi women seem to be cursed with girls and I didn’t remember that when I asked her to marry me. All I saw was the potential for an heir already there.” He didn’t bother to hide his bitterness and he didn’t care how he sounded. He didn’t care if Vangelis thought him simple or if the whole ship hated him, because they could form a line behind all the men who’d made their flight into exile necessary.
Somewhere within him, he knew that if this birth had happened in completely different circumstances - if he wasn’t king, for example, or even if he was, if Irakles wasn’t actively swiping the throne from him, he’d have been elated with his daughter. There was always time to try for a son at some point. At worst, if he only ever had daughters, he could have chosen the man to be king after him and allowed his grandchildren to sit on the throne to still be of his line. Possibly the son of Achilleas or Emilios, just to keep a Mikaelidas on the throne.
None of that was possible or mattered now. What had mattered was that she’d been a boy. A rallying point. Proof that, whatever else, Stephanos could at least provide the country an heir. But no. He’d given Taengea a daughter. Useless.
He glanced down at his own hand, realizing suddenly that there was burning pain there. When he opened his fist, he found four crescent shaped nail marks, showing red and beginning to bleed. Flexing his hand to ease the minor pain, he stiffened when he heard Vangelis approaching, but he didn’t move away. Letting the man settle beside him, he side eyed him and then let his shoulders sag.
For a long while, he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. But he knew Vangelis was waiting for an answer, even if the prince wouldn’t verbalize it. Besides, there was no way to hide it, and the truth would be evident within a few minutes anyway. There were no secrets on a ship. Not with something this important.
“My daughter lives,” he muttered and then dropped his head, glaring at the railing. “I shouldn’t have married her.” He drew in a sharp, bitter breath and exhaled it just as quickly. Covering his mouth, he shook his head. “I have made so many mistakes. And do you know the stupidest part about all this?” he demanded. “I love her. That’s the most idiotic part of this. She will only give me daughters.”
What he meant, was that he loved his wife and he wouldn’t seek any sort of separation, legal or otherwise from her in order to get a son. He’d stay with her, kingdom or not, daughter or not, and that he knew it was unwise to do so. Morally right, and politically stupid.
“Leventi women seem to be cursed with girls and I didn’t remember that when I asked her to marry me. All I saw was the potential for an heir already there.” He didn’t bother to hide his bitterness and he didn’t care how he sounded. He didn’t care if Vangelis thought him simple or if the whole ship hated him, because they could form a line behind all the men who’d made their flight into exile necessary.
As Stephanos explained what had happened below, the reason for his anger was immediately clear. The feeling of understanding, of commiseration... of kinmanship that he two had already begun to develop in their time together in Taengea fighting the Creed, strengthened into something a little more durable. Whilst women - in Vangelis' limited experience - seemed to grow closer through happy occasions (weddings seemed to be an important one to them), Vangelis had always noted in his time in the military that the worst the circumstances, the more powerful male bonding was permitted to grow.
He didn't offer the exiled king platitudes. He didn't tell him it would be okay, chastise him for being overly dramatic, nor critique his inability to show care and affection for the child his wife had just birthed him. Unlike some of the other passengers on the ship, Vangelis was perhaps the only one to truly understand. An heir to a throne himself, he knew the pressures of producing sons. He could empathise with the disappointment that a daughter would bring to a man in so precarious a political position as Stephanos was. Had he been in the man's shoes: a loss of kingdom, of rule, of family... to now be presented with a daughter on top of all of that? He would have had some things to scream at the Gods too. Fate was not being kind.
He also agreed that the love Stephanos bore his wife was like an additional cruel joke. Whilst his own parents were happily married and Vangelis had always hoped that he would one day find a queen for Colchis whom he could love and gain political power in equal measure, he had never been naive about it. The latter was always more important to a King. Love was a bonus that you got if you were lucky. But it was not an equal exchange for value to the monarchy.
He was tempted to point out the recent turmoil in Athenia over a law change. Perhaps suggest that Taengea might one day alter their own and that the daughter that was such a disappointment would in fact then be an heir. But to suggest further fighting and difficulty on top of everything else the man was going through just didn't seem the kind of sympathetic answer he needed.
Vangelis stood still for a while, his jaw popping as he clenched his teeth in consideration, searching for something appropriate, something meaningful. In true Colchian tradition, the man rarely said anything if it couldn't make a difference, regardless of awkward silences...
"You love her." He repeated, to start. "And she just risked her life to birth you a child." He glanced at Stephanos. His tone of voice was simple, matter-of-fact. It held no judgment or chastisement - it just was. "Perhaps you should focus on that for a while?" Vangelis shrugged and looked out at the water. "We're in the middle of the sea. We're not going to reach land for nearly two weeks. There is nothing to be done or that can be done for your kingdom or mine in that time. Whilst the world goes on, there's absolutely nothing we can do to influence it right now. So, let time stop. If you can't be a king right now anyway... why not take this time to be a husband?"
The words were surprisingly sentimental from Vangelis but also following his natural means of efficient categorisation. People didn't fall into one role and position. Like himself: crown prince, general, baron, diplomat, brother, son... Stephanos was focusing on the failure (admittedly huge and distracting failure) of his role as king... but he was more than one role. He was more than one position. He was more than one being.
"The Fates have not been kind to you, Stephanos." Vangelis stated, again without judgment, nor sympathy - it was simply a statement of fact. "But it's been my experience that the harder the war, the better the soldier at the end of it..."
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Aug 29, 2019 11:20:02 GMT
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As Stephanos explained what had happened below, the reason for his anger was immediately clear. The feeling of understanding, of commiseration... of kinmanship that he two had already begun to develop in their time together in Taengea fighting the Creed, strengthened into something a little more durable. Whilst women - in Vangelis' limited experience - seemed to grow closer through happy occasions (weddings seemed to be an important one to them), Vangelis had always noted in his time in the military that the worst the circumstances, the more powerful male bonding was permitted to grow.
He didn't offer the exiled king platitudes. He didn't tell him it would be okay, chastise him for being overly dramatic, nor critique his inability to show care and affection for the child his wife had just birthed him. Unlike some of the other passengers on the ship, Vangelis was perhaps the only one to truly understand. An heir to a throne himself, he knew the pressures of producing sons. He could empathise with the disappointment that a daughter would bring to a man in so precarious a political position as Stephanos was. Had he been in the man's shoes: a loss of kingdom, of rule, of family... to now be presented with a daughter on top of all of that? He would have had some things to scream at the Gods too. Fate was not being kind.
He also agreed that the love Stephanos bore his wife was like an additional cruel joke. Whilst his own parents were happily married and Vangelis had always hoped that he would one day find a queen for Colchis whom he could love and gain political power in equal measure, he had never been naive about it. The latter was always more important to a King. Love was a bonus that you got if you were lucky. But it was not an equal exchange for value to the monarchy.
He was tempted to point out the recent turmoil in Athenia over a law change. Perhaps suggest that Taengea might one day alter their own and that the daughter that was such a disappointment would in fact then be an heir. But to suggest further fighting and difficulty on top of everything else the man was going through just didn't seem the kind of sympathetic answer he needed.
Vangelis stood still for a while, his jaw popping as he clenched his teeth in consideration, searching for something appropriate, something meaningful. In true Colchian tradition, the man rarely said anything if it couldn't make a difference, regardless of awkward silences...
"You love her." He repeated, to start. "And she just risked her life to birth you a child." He glanced at Stephanos. His tone of voice was simple, matter-of-fact. It held no judgment or chastisement - it just was. "Perhaps you should focus on that for a while?" Vangelis shrugged and looked out at the water. "We're in the middle of the sea. We're not going to reach land for nearly two weeks. There is nothing to be done or that can be done for your kingdom or mine in that time. Whilst the world goes on, there's absolutely nothing we can do to influence it right now. So, let time stop. If you can't be a king right now anyway... why not take this time to be a husband?"
The words were surprisingly sentimental from Vangelis but also following his natural means of efficient categorisation. People didn't fall into one role and position. Like himself: crown prince, general, baron, diplomat, brother, son... Stephanos was focusing on the failure (admittedly huge and distracting failure) of his role as king... but he was more than one role. He was more than one position. He was more than one being.
"The Fates have not been kind to you, Stephanos." Vangelis stated, again without judgment, nor sympathy - it was simply a statement of fact. "But it's been my experience that the harder the war, the better the soldier at the end of it..."
As Stephanos explained what had happened below, the reason for his anger was immediately clear. The feeling of understanding, of commiseration... of kinmanship that he two had already begun to develop in their time together in Taengea fighting the Creed, strengthened into something a little more durable. Whilst women - in Vangelis' limited experience - seemed to grow closer through happy occasions (weddings seemed to be an important one to them), Vangelis had always noted in his time in the military that the worst the circumstances, the more powerful male bonding was permitted to grow.
He didn't offer the exiled king platitudes. He didn't tell him it would be okay, chastise him for being overly dramatic, nor critique his inability to show care and affection for the child his wife had just birthed him. Unlike some of the other passengers on the ship, Vangelis was perhaps the only one to truly understand. An heir to a throne himself, he knew the pressures of producing sons. He could empathise with the disappointment that a daughter would bring to a man in so precarious a political position as Stephanos was. Had he been in the man's shoes: a loss of kingdom, of rule, of family... to now be presented with a daughter on top of all of that? He would have had some things to scream at the Gods too. Fate was not being kind.
He also agreed that the love Stephanos bore his wife was like an additional cruel joke. Whilst his own parents were happily married and Vangelis had always hoped that he would one day find a queen for Colchis whom he could love and gain political power in equal measure, he had never been naive about it. The latter was always more important to a King. Love was a bonus that you got if you were lucky. But it was not an equal exchange for value to the monarchy.
He was tempted to point out the recent turmoil in Athenia over a law change. Perhaps suggest that Taengea might one day alter their own and that the daughter that was such a disappointment would in fact then be an heir. But to suggest further fighting and difficulty on top of everything else the man was going through just didn't seem the kind of sympathetic answer he needed.
Vangelis stood still for a while, his jaw popping as he clenched his teeth in consideration, searching for something appropriate, something meaningful. In true Colchian tradition, the man rarely said anything if it couldn't make a difference, regardless of awkward silences...
"You love her." He repeated, to start. "And she just risked her life to birth you a child." He glanced at Stephanos. His tone of voice was simple, matter-of-fact. It held no judgment or chastisement - it just was. "Perhaps you should focus on that for a while?" Vangelis shrugged and looked out at the water. "We're in the middle of the sea. We're not going to reach land for nearly two weeks. There is nothing to be done or that can be done for your kingdom or mine in that time. Whilst the world goes on, there's absolutely nothing we can do to influence it right now. So, let time stop. If you can't be a king right now anyway... why not take this time to be a husband?"
The words were surprisingly sentimental from Vangelis but also following his natural means of efficient categorisation. People didn't fall into one role and position. Like himself: crown prince, general, baron, diplomat, brother, son... Stephanos was focusing on the failure (admittedly huge and distracting failure) of his role as king... but he was more than one role. He was more than one position. He was more than one being.
"The Fates have not been kind to you, Stephanos." Vangelis stated, again without judgment, nor sympathy - it was simply a statement of fact. "But it's been my experience that the harder the war, the better the soldier at the end of it..."
He’d explained his thoughts to Vangelis not because he’d been looking for sympathy, but because Vangelis had asked. It was not in Stephanos’s nature to keep things secret for long. Lying was not a strong suit of his - for better or worse. So, with Vangelis’s silent questioning look, Stephanos saw no reason to hide the truth or how he felt about it.
What he wasn’t quite prepared for was for Vangelis’s response. He assumed he’d spill his thoughts and it would go into the void. Heard and unremarked upon. That Vangelis was giving him advice was...not unheard of, but definitely unusual. Mostly Vangelis avoided giving direct advice, in Stephanos’s experience - especially when he asked for it. Now that he hadn’t, it sprang forth.
His mouth tightened while the other spoke. It all sounded so simple. Just go down there. Be with her. Nodding, he pushed away from the railing. “Alright,” he said flatly. “Go be there. I can do that.” He’d already turned and started to walk away when Vangelis’s last words sliced into him, unexpectedly sharp.
“The Fates have not been kind to you, Stephanos. But it's been my experience that the harder the war, the better the soldier at the end of it..."
He felt his breathing start to become shallow, his chest tighten, and his throat close up. Vangelis was right. The Fates had been unfathomably cruel as of late. In the last few months, he’d experienced more loss and disappointment on a grander scale than most people would understand. He didn’t feel like a soldier and he was tired of fighting. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded and kept walking.
Later, he would be grateful for both the advice and the encouragement. Right now, he just wasn’t able or willing to take it on. By the time he was half way down the stairs into the hold, he’d mastered himself again. But once he hit the landing, he couldn’t bring himself to knock on Pia’s door. He bypassed it and went deeper into hold. In the darker depths of the ship, he found barrels containing their water supply. Hauling himself up on top of them, he sighed. This was as close to alone as he could manage.
Pulling his legs against his chest, he rested his forehead on his arms atop his knees and let himself feel every single angry, disappointing, and self loathing thought in an overwhelming wave of emotion. He told himself that he would do this only one time. Then it would be time to actively plan how to kill Irakles. For now, with Pia resting and Selene tending to the baby, he was going to let the truth of his predicament crush him.
Tomorrow he’d be better. But not tonight. Tonight, he just wanted to be left alone.
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Sept 1, 2019 22:56:37 GMT
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He’d explained his thoughts to Vangelis not because he’d been looking for sympathy, but because Vangelis had asked. It was not in Stephanos’s nature to keep things secret for long. Lying was not a strong suit of his - for better or worse. So, with Vangelis’s silent questioning look, Stephanos saw no reason to hide the truth or how he felt about it.
What he wasn’t quite prepared for was for Vangelis’s response. He assumed he’d spill his thoughts and it would go into the void. Heard and unremarked upon. That Vangelis was giving him advice was...not unheard of, but definitely unusual. Mostly Vangelis avoided giving direct advice, in Stephanos’s experience - especially when he asked for it. Now that he hadn’t, it sprang forth.
His mouth tightened while the other spoke. It all sounded so simple. Just go down there. Be with her. Nodding, he pushed away from the railing. “Alright,” he said flatly. “Go be there. I can do that.” He’d already turned and started to walk away when Vangelis’s last words sliced into him, unexpectedly sharp.
“The Fates have not been kind to you, Stephanos. But it's been my experience that the harder the war, the better the soldier at the end of it..."
He felt his breathing start to become shallow, his chest tighten, and his throat close up. Vangelis was right. The Fates had been unfathomably cruel as of late. In the last few months, he’d experienced more loss and disappointment on a grander scale than most people would understand. He didn’t feel like a soldier and he was tired of fighting. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded and kept walking.
Later, he would be grateful for both the advice and the encouragement. Right now, he just wasn’t able or willing to take it on. By the time he was half way down the stairs into the hold, he’d mastered himself again. But once he hit the landing, he couldn’t bring himself to knock on Pia’s door. He bypassed it and went deeper into hold. In the darker depths of the ship, he found barrels containing their water supply. Hauling himself up on top of them, he sighed. This was as close to alone as he could manage.
Pulling his legs against his chest, he rested his forehead on his arms atop his knees and let himself feel every single angry, disappointing, and self loathing thought in an overwhelming wave of emotion. He told himself that he would do this only one time. Then it would be time to actively plan how to kill Irakles. For now, with Pia resting and Selene tending to the baby, he was going to let the truth of his predicament crush him.
Tomorrow he’d be better. But not tonight. Tonight, he just wanted to be left alone.
He’d explained his thoughts to Vangelis not because he’d been looking for sympathy, but because Vangelis had asked. It was not in Stephanos’s nature to keep things secret for long. Lying was not a strong suit of his - for better or worse. So, with Vangelis’s silent questioning look, Stephanos saw no reason to hide the truth or how he felt about it.
What he wasn’t quite prepared for was for Vangelis’s response. He assumed he’d spill his thoughts and it would go into the void. Heard and unremarked upon. That Vangelis was giving him advice was...not unheard of, but definitely unusual. Mostly Vangelis avoided giving direct advice, in Stephanos’s experience - especially when he asked for it. Now that he hadn’t, it sprang forth.
His mouth tightened while the other spoke. It all sounded so simple. Just go down there. Be with her. Nodding, he pushed away from the railing. “Alright,” he said flatly. “Go be there. I can do that.” He’d already turned and started to walk away when Vangelis’s last words sliced into him, unexpectedly sharp.
“The Fates have not been kind to you, Stephanos. But it's been my experience that the harder the war, the better the soldier at the end of it..."
He felt his breathing start to become shallow, his chest tighten, and his throat close up. Vangelis was right. The Fates had been unfathomably cruel as of late. In the last few months, he’d experienced more loss and disappointment on a grander scale than most people would understand. He didn’t feel like a soldier and he was tired of fighting. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded and kept walking.
Later, he would be grateful for both the advice and the encouragement. Right now, he just wasn’t able or willing to take it on. By the time he was half way down the stairs into the hold, he’d mastered himself again. But once he hit the landing, he couldn’t bring himself to knock on Pia’s door. He bypassed it and went deeper into hold. In the darker depths of the ship, he found barrels containing their water supply. Hauling himself up on top of them, he sighed. This was as close to alone as he could manage.
Pulling his legs against his chest, he rested his forehead on his arms atop his knees and let himself feel every single angry, disappointing, and self loathing thought in an overwhelming wave of emotion. He told himself that he would do this only one time. Then it would be time to actively plan how to kill Irakles. For now, with Pia resting and Selene tending to the baby, he was going to let the truth of his predicament crush him.
Tomorrow he’d be better. But not tonight. Tonight, he just wanted to be left alone.
Imeeya only had a few moments to worry about the fate of the queen before she was being handed the newborn baby, which had now begun crying, and had stopped looking quite as blue as it had at birth. She wondered if it was a bad side that it was crying this much. Certainly it was better when a baby wasn’t crying. It seemed so small, she was almost afraid that if she moved wrong she might break it. With the child screaming at the top of her lungs, Imeeya couldn’t be entirely sure she wasn’t harming the child. That seemed like the first order of business, making sure the baby was calm.
Imeeya gently bounced the baby shushing it softly. As she bobbed up and down the cries softened and the baby fixed her big blue eyes on Imeeya’s face. Imeeya smiled down at the child. “Hello!” she said softly to the child. There was something kind of awkward about talking to a baby. It wasn’t like it was going to respond back. Instead, she went back to quietly humming. That seemed to soothe the child. There was something about holding the child that held Imeeya’s complete attention. She was just so small and that was enthralling. Imeeya didn’t even notice when Asia returned to the room with the blankets and wine.
The spell was only broken when Selene came back over to clean off the baby. Unwrapping the baby revealed the tiny fingers and toes, and Imeeya couldn’t help but smile. She was completely entranced. Imeeya tried to cling to the baby that now squirmed as it was washed by Selene. The baby seemed to have grown more contented since its birth and it yawned as it was wrapped back up after the quick bath that it had been given. Imeeya looked up and smiled as Selene suggested that she thought the baby liked her. “I hope so,” Imeeya admitted, she had not had much practice with babies, so she wasn’t sure she was doing this right at all. “Did you want her back?” Imeeya asked, she was loath to disturb the now quiet child, but perhaps Selene would have a better idea of what she should be doing with this tiny human.
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Sept 3, 2019 20:54:08 GMT
Posted In Hera Guide Us on Sept 3, 2019 20:54:08 GMT
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Imeeya only had a few moments to worry about the fate of the queen before she was being handed the newborn baby, which had now begun crying, and had stopped looking quite as blue as it had at birth. She wondered if it was a bad side that it was crying this much. Certainly it was better when a baby wasn’t crying. It seemed so small, she was almost afraid that if she moved wrong she might break it. With the child screaming at the top of her lungs, Imeeya couldn’t be entirely sure she wasn’t harming the child. That seemed like the first order of business, making sure the baby was calm.
Imeeya gently bounced the baby shushing it softly. As she bobbed up and down the cries softened and the baby fixed her big blue eyes on Imeeya’s face. Imeeya smiled down at the child. “Hello!” she said softly to the child. There was something kind of awkward about talking to a baby. It wasn’t like it was going to respond back. Instead, she went back to quietly humming. That seemed to soothe the child. There was something about holding the child that held Imeeya’s complete attention. She was just so small and that was enthralling. Imeeya didn’t even notice when Asia returned to the room with the blankets and wine.
The spell was only broken when Selene came back over to clean off the baby. Unwrapping the baby revealed the tiny fingers and toes, and Imeeya couldn’t help but smile. She was completely entranced. Imeeya tried to cling to the baby that now squirmed as it was washed by Selene. The baby seemed to have grown more contented since its birth and it yawned as it was wrapped back up after the quick bath that it had been given. Imeeya looked up and smiled as Selene suggested that she thought the baby liked her. “I hope so,” Imeeya admitted, she had not had much practice with babies, so she wasn’t sure she was doing this right at all. “Did you want her back?” Imeeya asked, she was loath to disturb the now quiet child, but perhaps Selene would have a better idea of what she should be doing with this tiny human.
Imeeya only had a few moments to worry about the fate of the queen before she was being handed the newborn baby, which had now begun crying, and had stopped looking quite as blue as it had at birth. She wondered if it was a bad side that it was crying this much. Certainly it was better when a baby wasn’t crying. It seemed so small, she was almost afraid that if she moved wrong she might break it. With the child screaming at the top of her lungs, Imeeya couldn’t be entirely sure she wasn’t harming the child. That seemed like the first order of business, making sure the baby was calm.
Imeeya gently bounced the baby shushing it softly. As she bobbed up and down the cries softened and the baby fixed her big blue eyes on Imeeya’s face. Imeeya smiled down at the child. “Hello!” she said softly to the child. There was something kind of awkward about talking to a baby. It wasn’t like it was going to respond back. Instead, she went back to quietly humming. That seemed to soothe the child. There was something about holding the child that held Imeeya’s complete attention. She was just so small and that was enthralling. Imeeya didn’t even notice when Asia returned to the room with the blankets and wine.
The spell was only broken when Selene came back over to clean off the baby. Unwrapping the baby revealed the tiny fingers and toes, and Imeeya couldn’t help but smile. She was completely entranced. Imeeya tried to cling to the baby that now squirmed as it was washed by Selene. The baby seemed to have grown more contented since its birth and it yawned as it was wrapped back up after the quick bath that it had been given. Imeeya looked up and smiled as Selene suggested that she thought the baby liked her. “I hope so,” Imeeya admitted, she had not had much practice with babies, so she wasn’t sure she was doing this right at all. “Did you want her back?” Imeeya asked, she was loath to disturb the now quiet child, but perhaps Selene would have a better idea of what she should be doing with this tiny human.
She had never thought herself a midwife, and yet, in this moment with her sister, she had been. The Fates had decided to put her in a position that would test any wellbred lady like herself. And instead of crumbling to the challenge, she had managed it all well on her own. She felt strong and proud, yet defeated at the same time. What was the point of saving the child if neither parents were interested in her presence?
Maybe it was another reason she had been the one who was on the boat that night. Regardless of expectations, Selene could put aside her own fears and emotions to be able to step up as had always been expected of her. And she had the uncanny ability to be whatever she needed to be, regardless of experience.
But not only that, she could be the one who loved the little princess as she deserved to be loved. That would give her parents time to heal and accept what had been given to them. While both the King and Queen could only feel disappointment, for Selene it was love at first sight. And it appeared that way for Imeeya as well. As many babies seemed to die in childbirth, she didn’t understand how anyone would be disappointed with a healthy one. But, then again, she wasn’t Pia or Stephanos. They would have to figure out their next move.
And Selene would make it her mission to make sure neither tossed the baby overboard.
When Imeeya asked it she wanted the baby back, Selene shook her head. “That’s quite alright. I am covered in birth and she looks quite content in your arms.” Looking down at the garment she wore, it the armor looked as if she had been in battle. It would be good to get out of the hot, oversized clothing, but there was still plenty she needed to do. ”Perhaps you and Athanasia can keep her entertained while I finish cleaning up the Queen?” Without waiting for an answer, Selene continued to work on her sister. Getting her out of the stained gown, the girl simply covered her in a blanket as she washed her body. It was then that she remembered being told by the old lady that she needed to press into her sister’s abdomen.
Why, she didn’t remember, but she followed the odd orders for a few moments before deciding that she had done enough on that respect. As soon as both Queen and princess were settled, Selene felt the walls start to shift inward. Now that it was said and done, all she could think to do was get out of the clothes of her escape and find air. Trusting that the two would come find her should something go wrong, Selene made her excuses and was out of the sweltering room, pulling at the collar of her clothes as she moved to find privacy.
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She had never thought herself a midwife, and yet, in this moment with her sister, she had been. The Fates had decided to put her in a position that would test any wellbred lady like herself. And instead of crumbling to the challenge, she had managed it all well on her own. She felt strong and proud, yet defeated at the same time. What was the point of saving the child if neither parents were interested in her presence?
Maybe it was another reason she had been the one who was on the boat that night. Regardless of expectations, Selene could put aside her own fears and emotions to be able to step up as had always been expected of her. And she had the uncanny ability to be whatever she needed to be, regardless of experience.
But not only that, she could be the one who loved the little princess as she deserved to be loved. That would give her parents time to heal and accept what had been given to them. While both the King and Queen could only feel disappointment, for Selene it was love at first sight. And it appeared that way for Imeeya as well. As many babies seemed to die in childbirth, she didn’t understand how anyone would be disappointed with a healthy one. But, then again, she wasn’t Pia or Stephanos. They would have to figure out their next move.
And Selene would make it her mission to make sure neither tossed the baby overboard.
When Imeeya asked it she wanted the baby back, Selene shook her head. “That’s quite alright. I am covered in birth and she looks quite content in your arms.” Looking down at the garment she wore, it the armor looked as if she had been in battle. It would be good to get out of the hot, oversized clothing, but there was still plenty she needed to do. ”Perhaps you and Athanasia can keep her entertained while I finish cleaning up the Queen?” Without waiting for an answer, Selene continued to work on her sister. Getting her out of the stained gown, the girl simply covered her in a blanket as she washed her body. It was then that she remembered being told by the old lady that she needed to press into her sister’s abdomen.
Why, she didn’t remember, but she followed the odd orders for a few moments before deciding that she had done enough on that respect. As soon as both Queen and princess were settled, Selene felt the walls start to shift inward. Now that it was said and done, all she could think to do was get out of the clothes of her escape and find air. Trusting that the two would come find her should something go wrong, Selene made her excuses and was out of the sweltering room, pulling at the collar of her clothes as she moved to find privacy.
She had never thought herself a midwife, and yet, in this moment with her sister, she had been. The Fates had decided to put her in a position that would test any wellbred lady like herself. And instead of crumbling to the challenge, she had managed it all well on her own. She felt strong and proud, yet defeated at the same time. What was the point of saving the child if neither parents were interested in her presence?
Maybe it was another reason she had been the one who was on the boat that night. Regardless of expectations, Selene could put aside her own fears and emotions to be able to step up as had always been expected of her. And she had the uncanny ability to be whatever she needed to be, regardless of experience.
But not only that, she could be the one who loved the little princess as she deserved to be loved. That would give her parents time to heal and accept what had been given to them. While both the King and Queen could only feel disappointment, for Selene it was love at first sight. And it appeared that way for Imeeya as well. As many babies seemed to die in childbirth, she didn’t understand how anyone would be disappointed with a healthy one. But, then again, she wasn’t Pia or Stephanos. They would have to figure out their next move.
And Selene would make it her mission to make sure neither tossed the baby overboard.
When Imeeya asked it she wanted the baby back, Selene shook her head. “That’s quite alright. I am covered in birth and she looks quite content in your arms.” Looking down at the garment she wore, it the armor looked as if she had been in battle. It would be good to get out of the hot, oversized clothing, but there was still plenty she needed to do. ”Perhaps you and Athanasia can keep her entertained while I finish cleaning up the Queen?” Without waiting for an answer, Selene continued to work on her sister. Getting her out of the stained gown, the girl simply covered her in a blanket as she washed her body. It was then that she remembered being told by the old lady that she needed to press into her sister’s abdomen.
Why, she didn’t remember, but she followed the odd orders for a few moments before deciding that she had done enough on that respect. As soon as both Queen and princess were settled, Selene felt the walls start to shift inward. Now that it was said and done, all she could think to do was get out of the clothes of her escape and find air. Trusting that the two would come find her should something go wrong, Selene made her excuses and was out of the sweltering room, pulling at the collar of her clothes as she moved to find privacy.