Zanon had never scared her in her life. If there was one constant in her life, it was that the fair skinned lady had always believed that her husband would never lay a finger on her to deliberately hurt her, nor would he ever cause harm to any of his family. It was why despite her families misgivings, she believed and trusted in his love for her son, even if he may no longer hold any love for her.
Now, Evras was no longer sure.
He had yanked at her hair, her neck almost cracking at the sheer force her husband used on her dark locks. She had bitten down the screech of pain that she had wanted to show - Silanos was a gentleman, and Zanon was incensed enough. She did not want to cause further antagonism between the two, the young male did not deserve the wrath of her husband. Besides, this was a fight between them that Evras did not want anyone else to get dragged in. The way Zanon basically drove a sword through an innocent man's gut had Evras gasping, and the woman's blue-green eyes had widened in shock, the kind in which she had never shown before. What happened to her Zanon? Her gentle, kind, charming husband that she had married? And who was this antagonistic male in his place?
But even as she backed away, she could not get away from his anger. She felt bile at the back of her throat when she saw the blood, but when his bloodied hands smeared on her scalp and then her cheek, Evras turned away from him as best as she could - this time, from pure fear. Her husband now terrified her.
It wasn't as if Evras had not seen the rage and hurt in his eyes, but she also wondered why did he have the right to feel hurt, yet he invalidated all the hurt she felt over the past three years of infidelity. What right did he have, that she did not then? Why must she remain contsnat, when he did not? What sort of double standards did he hold himself to?
She struggled as he dragged her, but it wasn't till teh door closed as she was dragged into the foyer of the Kotas mansion, did she finally twist herself free, and basically hurriedly backed herself away from her husband, her eyes a mix of anger and fear as she glared at him. "What were you thinking Zanon?!" she yelled, eyes ablaze with fury, but body language that of a scared, cornered animal. "He was innocent! And it is not as if you have any right. How many whores and ladies have you kissed over the past years that I have not said a thing about? How could you kill someone!" She felt the wall stop her backing steps, and tears pinched at the corner of her eyes, one spilling out. "I love you. My Zanon. The one that was gentle, charming... the one who loved me." she paused, her eyes flickering to the blood soaked sword he still held in his hand, and her voice cracked on her next words, that came out more scared then angry. "Who are you?"
He didn't release her until they were inside with the door firmly shut behind them, all but throwing her forward as he glared after her, the blood of the man still dripping from his sword and hands. She had the nerve to scream at him now, no doubt waking the entire mansion with her cries. Advancing on her with the weapon still drawn, he kept his stony silence as she continued to pelt him with hatred. Her declaration that the man he'd killed was innocent barely registered in his mind at the moment, the drink giving him conviction that he was in the right in this moment. After all, the baron wouldn't lie to him about who the man had been.
"I've killed many people before, and I will kill them again."
It was as if she had forgotten what his purpose was, supporting his brother in their campaigns, defending against those who would try to attack. A sword, a bow, none of it was strange in his hand, and being drenched in the blood of his enemies was entirely normal for him. He scoffed at her claim to love him. If she loved him how could she do this to him, if she loved him why would he feel as if he had been awakened from a spell, a spell that she had clearly cast. This wasn't love, it was a trap.
"Who am I? I'm the man who woke up. The one who realized that the spell you cast on me nearly took my life. The one who had been struggling with everything that you were and had finally, finally thought perhaps I was wrong and that you truly loved me, but before I could say anything you do this."
This time it was his sword that was flung, crashing into the floor and further causing a ruckus to wake those around them, his voice raising with an anguish and confusion, pain and bitterness and regret all mingling.
"I was beginning to believe I loved you, truly. That the mistakes I'd made in the past, we made, were just that. Mistakes. And now? Give me one reason why I shouldn't ask my father to end our marriage."
It's not like she did not know Zanon's position. He was a military male. She had spent weeks and months at a time sometimes, wondering if she would be a widow or if he would return, worrying for his safety. She was not dense on what happened on the battlefield - but she was raised a gentlewoman, and she was not used to watching him kill in cold blood. Yet that was not what scared her. It was the thorough lack of thought for the life of the other - he had not even bothered checking if the one he had gutted was the one who actually at fault. As someone who has been on the receiving end of misguided rumors and harsh words, Evras knew better then anyone how bad it was to be villified for something she did not do.
Her eyes narrowed at him when he said he will kill, and kill again. But the anger was further fueled when Zanon continued speaking. "I casted a spell?!" her tone held mockery, a wry, humorless laugh escaping her lips. "So like everyone else, you believe me to be a witch, husband? Eleven years of marriage proved nothing to you?" It was as if someone had plowed a hole through her chest, when he finally revealed the reason behind his infidelity and behavior in recent years. Of all the things she had speculated, this hurt the most, that he did not trust her.
Flinching when he threw the sword yet Evras did not budge, her fists clenching by her sides, her position still defensive as she glared at her husband. Fear was obvious in her eyes, but Evras was brought up by the Thanasi household, and she did not back down without a fight. While she did not have the ways her siblings had in political and courtly ways, she still shared their streak of being deadly when it came to lashing out. She could hold her own, even if it was against someone she loved.
"I spent three years waiting for you, Zanon of Kotas. I did nothing as you shamed me and made me the topic of ridicule with everyone else. They laughed at me,made me believe that I no longer was worth your attention. I didn't even ask for the kiss that was given to me tonight. But you villify me as if it is I who had run around cavorting with any whore or brothel you could get your hands on." Every word rattled with her anger, and Evras further dug her nails into her palms, almost drawing blood in order to still the shaking in her arms. "So be it. I never had to make myself believe that I love you. I always did. But since you do... then yes, we've both made a mistake. End our marriage if you'd like. I.... cannot continue loving someone who does not return the sentiment."
Her last words were snarled, and Evras would be lying if she had said that it was what she wanted. She never wanted it. The first eight years of her marriage was happy. She was lucky to be one of the few noble ladies who was actually eager for her marriage to her husband back then. But she did not know who Zanon was anymore. And she was too afraid to try further. She never wanted to lose him, but if he was the one who wanted to choose the way out... who was she to stop him?
Vangelis had been unable to sleep for several days. It appeared to him that, while excessive exercise was the way to ensure sleep, limited use of the body had the opposing effect. While his recovery from his injuries at been going well - and at over 5 weeks now, he would have certainly hoped so - Vangelis had been unable to do more than a few hours of strenuous exercise a day. Back in his life before the storm, he would have been working his muscles hard from sun up to sun down - be it through regime and protocols, drills with his men, or just keeping up his own fitness and physical combat skills. Either way he was always exhausted when he went to sleep. Nowadays, his body was awake and unused and it was near impossible for him to fall into slumber before the early hours of the morning.
Instead, he worked through the paperwork of his duties and tasks as Crown Prince. Zanon had continued to take on the physical role for him in meeting with senators, handling shipments, or making inspections were his presence was physically required. No injury, no matter how well healed, should be witnessed by the people on the crown prince of the kingdom... but his family had been unable to keep the workaholic eldest son away from his duties entirely, and he was responsible for keeping up with all of the paperwork required from Zanon's work - therefore keeping his knowledge of his kingdom up-to-date and effective.
As the night had grown from dusky grey to pitch black, however, Vangelis had reached his limit of sitting at the desk in his bed chamber and had, instead, headed out onto his balcony.
The feeling of being cooped up inside his rooms had become a new one for him. Vangelis had rarely ever had to spend more time in them than it took for him to get up, dress and equip himself for the day - then repeat the process in reverse at night. The rest of the time he was outside, working or acting - doing something with his day.
As he set his hands on the balustrade that ran the length of the balcony, Vangelis considered the idea that he hadn't even enjoyed being in his rooms for the little time he did spend in them. He was more familiar with the balcony than he was with his bed; given how often he would wander out onto it, brace his forearms on the low wall and look out over his city and his kingdom.
From his perch, Vangelis could see the entirety of Midas, all of the different levels, winding their way down the mountainside... and beyond it, the curve of the Port. If he leaned out over the wall, he could look almost around the mountains and catch glimpses of the grass land of some of their closest provincial neighbours.
It was as he was leaning out to look that a movement directly below - one he would not have seen had he not had his head and shoulders over the perimeter of the balcony - caught his eye.
It was a flash of some kind of light.
Adjusting his eyes from the bright lanterns and candles that lit up the windows of the city below, and turning his attention fully to the dark courtyard outside the front of the Kotas manor, Vangelis realised that the flash of light had been hair. The moonlight shining on a flowing curtain of hair as black as night.
All of his family were brunette, but the Kotas genes produced hair tones in the browns - not the glossy midnight of a crow's feathers. There was only one person who lived in the Kotas manor, who would have been allowed past the guards at the gate.
The Lady Evras...
His eyes narrowing, Vangelis looked closer and quickly identified the man with her as anyone but his brother. He had grown up with Zanon. Could identify his height and stature and frame from a single glance. He could do the same with all of his siblings. And that man was too broad in shoulder, too low in height and had an entirely different walk. It was not Zanon.
Frowning, Vangelis lent further into the dark so that he could watch what was happening directly below him.
As events unfolded, he felt a myriad of emotions pass through him. Of anger, betrayal, exasperation, confusion... some were felt on behalf of his brother, some on behalf of his family. Others based solely on the pride of being the head of his House and having someone insult their honour and dignity by stepping out and kissing the wife of one of its members, regardless of whether that member was his brother or not.
When he saw Zanon look out on a level below himself, see the kiss and then disappear inside, Vangelis knew trouble was about to occur and every instinct he had told him to go and fight by his brother's side. Instead, his military mind had him staying where he was in order to witness what happened next.
This was a political issue as well as a personal one - he was not needed to fight for his brother's honour. He would be needed to keep the peace. And if he needed to, he could always call from his position, attract their attention somehow...
As such, Vangelis was witness to the happenings down in the courtyard. All of it, he watched and saw. From his position high above them, Vangelis noticed the switch out for the slave. He was tempted to step in at that point, to save an innocent man. But he hesitated, unsure what it would mean for the support of the House of Kotas if he basically encouraged the execution of the second son of Valaoritis. That hesitation - regardless of the decision he would have made in the end - meant that no such choice was available as Zanon was as swift as he was harsh in meting out judgement on the false villain. Vangelis had only the time to open his mouth before the man was already dead.
As the party of four split into two pairs and separated - the couple that were a part of his family heading inside the manor, Vangelis left his watchful perch and hurried across his room.
His movements now were not fluid but they were effective. He didn't hurt unless he moved excessively or for longer periods of time, now. Which meant he was able to hasten across the room, fling open his door and speed down the corridor with only the smallest of limps.
By the time he reached the first flight of stairs, the shouting had begun in the foyer. By the time he had sped along the second-floor corridor, his brother Silas had joined him. Yiannis would have not been far behind if it wasn't for the fact that he slept like the dead. His mother and Athanasia were next when he reached first storey.
By the time he was at the main stairs leading down into the foyer and could see the married couple below him, the entire house - minus his comatose middle brother - had been awoken. Including, Vangelis noticed with a heavy heart across the landing... Dion. Who stood nervously at the railing across from him, watching his parents yelling at one another with wide eyes. Both of them seemed too preoccupied with their threats and insults that they had not noticed their son, frightening and scared above them.
"That's enough!"
The words that left Vangelis' mouth were not premeditated or planned. They simply punched out of his chest in a booming command that blasted through the foyer. Every voice halted, every pair of eyes looked his way. He thought he spotted a shine to Dion's eyes that was not normal.
Fuelled by anger but controlled by his decades of training as a military commander - that, and the fact that it hadn't been his wife kissing another man on the porch of their home - Vangelis spoke with a burning baritone that hinted at finely held rage.
"Mother, take Dion to your rooms." He told the Queen, his hand pointing to the young boy across the landing, in case he was the only one to have spotted his nephew so far. "You're not to let him out or anyone else in, until I come to see you, am I clear?"
In some families, his direct tone with his mother might have been out of place. But this was the Kotas family. A family of military men. Queen Yanni was a strong and confident woman who ruled with grace and intelligence. But when it came to chaos, to violence or to decisions to be made in the heat of moments such as these, the men of the family were the commanding presence. It was they that led. Coupled with the fact that Vangelis was both the eldest and the leader of the House of Kotas and that his father was currently outside of the kingdom - Vangelis was the highest authority on Colchis, barring none. And his words were law.
His mother quickly heeded without embarrassment or issue, respecting her son's choices and authority. Instead, she hurried across the landing, her night gown streaming out behind her and then swooped down upon the eleven-year-old like a mother swan. Encouraging him away from the now eerily quiet foyer, Vangelis knew that his mother would hold to his instructions. None of his siblings, nor the boy's parents would be permitted to see Dion until Vangelis stated otherwise. He wasn't about to allow them to use the kid as a tool or weapon against one another.
"Silas, go to bed." Was his next instruction to his family. "Take Asia with you."
Another of his relatives adhered to his orders without question.
Had Vangelis been in a calmer frame of mind, he might have noticed the shock on Asia's features but he did not have the clairvoyance in this moment to realise that he had never behaved this way in front of anyone but Zanon and Yiannis - only his two eldest brothers and his father had ever seen him at his most damning. At his most commanding. With eyes of fire and the tone of Hades. It was his normal appearance at home - free of excessive emotions or smiles - that had given him the nom of Stone Prince. It was this voice and bearing that had given him the title of Blood General.
Heading quickly down the stairs, his limp almost unnoticeable, Vangelis strode over to his brother and sister-in-law with the fire of purpose. As he went he kicked Zanon's sword - the one he had discarded on the floor - across the tiles with a skittering clatter, further away from the fighting couple. His glare sent the servants who had been roused back to their beds before he turned back towards his brother and his wife.
The first thing Vangelis did was haul back and slug his brother clean in the face, his fist connecting with jaw and sending Zanon reeling, causing several feet of space between the husband and wife.
He then whirled to get up in the personal space of Evras, his ringer raised threateningly.
"I stay my hand with you, not through loyalty but out of respect of your gender." He told her with a darkness in his gaze. He narrowed his eyes at her in hatred and disgust. "You will go to my chambers." He told her. "Now!"
The last word was shouted in her face, his control slipping in his anger at the way she had allowed her husband to be treated. She might not have been the one to instigate the kiss - a face he had been able to see from his balcony. But she was a smart woman. She could have picked up on his intentions, would have seen him leaning in. She made the choice not to distance herself, not to turn her head or raise a hand. Whatever issues she had with her husband, they had clearly caused her to lose her mind and disrespect both her man and his family - his family. Regardless of previous behaviour such lack of self-preservation - such a lack of care in how she behaved around other men, but unacceptable in a woman.
Yet, he also knew that his brother had been an idiot for the last few years.
He had no idea what had happened between them, what had caused their strife and ensuing chasm. But he had witnessed Lady Evras shrink into herself, become less lively and less in love with her husband and family with each return to his home over the last few years. Something had happened that Zanon had not fixed. Not after years of issue. And while no reason - no element or insult excused adultery in the wife of a royal prince - he was not about to see his brother as innocent in this either.
As Evras reacted his command, Vangelis turned back to the brother he had just struck in the face and felt his chest expand and his shoulders stretch as he took a moment to assert his authority now that the conversation was solely between the two of them.
Before her husband could even respond, the loud thunderous voice made its way across the large empty foyer, causing Evras to look up - and almost immediately regret it. Her son stood there wide eyed, and she was very sure that those were tears glimmering in his eyes. It did not help that her chin was blood stained, her chiton askew and her hair all over the place from Zanon dragging her in by her scalp. Having always been the gentle, soft-spoken mother in his eyes, Evras no doubt scared him now.
Regret filled her.
"Dion, I -" she automatically wanted to apologize, but Vangelis was quick to have Dion taken away, and Evras did not argue with his decision. The Queen doted on her only grandchild, and Dion enjoyed the pampering Queen Yanni showed. She would take care of him. Evras did not trust herself around her own son tonight, not when she still shock from the fear and anger her own husband caused in her.
Flickering when Vangelis directed Silas to Asia, another pang of regret crossed her face - she had, once upon a time, been close to her younger sister in law. Never having younger sisters of her own, Evras had taken Athanasia under her wing, and had enjoyed laughter and shopping trips iwth her. But blood being thicker then water, her relationship with Zanon was not the only one that fell by the wayside when her husband started rejecting her, and now that she finally knew the reason why, it merely further fuelled her hurt and anger. By the ime Vangelis had gotten down to the foyer where they stood, Evras had dropped her gaze to her feet.
The clatter of the sword on the ground made her look up again, but her fight to keep an impassive look was quickly lost when her brother in law swung a fist at Zanon, knocking him clear off his ground. Like it or not, Evras still felt hurt when she saw that - it went against her nature to see Zanon get hurt. She gasped, but was left with no time to ponder on his condition when Vangelis whirled and stormed into her space. Evras froze, instincively leaning back as he spoke, the dark tone causing the fear to intensify. She had thought that she and Vangelis had a tenuous friendship after his defense of her at the dinner-table the other day, yet now she saw the disgust in his eyes, and scowled.
Without a word, Evras turned and left the foyer, not bothering to linger longer in the hallways as she headed for where she knew Vangelis's chamber was in mute indignance.
It was a nice night out, with the crisp air and clear night skies, for the first time in a long while Asia thought about going night hunting. The silence that filled the air when the sun went down soothed her more than it scared her. Most would say that for that she wasn't exactly normal but to Asia, it was relaxing to be surrounded by the dark in the woods. Dressed in her usual chiton for hunting, her only concession for the night that she wore a small covering that added sleeves and warmth to her outfit before donning her bow and quiver.
As the bow settled over her shoulder, there was a loud shout that filled the night air and disturbed any peace that anyone could possibly find. "What, in the gods' name, is going on?" For a brief moment, the thought that they were being raided filled Asia's mind. Terror filled thoughts of nightmarish people destroying her home and hurting her family, fueling her need for her dagger as she reached out and wrapped her fingers around the hilt and made her way down the hall. It was there that her mother met her in the hallway, looking at Asia's outfit and having a bow with surprise that switched to annoyed disapproval just as the shouting match grew even louder, making them both move even quicker as they met Dion and Vangelis on the first floor. The chaos below was that, pure chaos. From what Asia could see the anger between the wedded couple had finally boiled over, and as she saw the blood on Evra's face, Asia found that she felt anger towards her brother.
Did he hurt her? What was going on? It was then that Vangelis shouted and brought everyone to silence, it was almost as if the night's peace was never broken if you didn't pay attention to the sudden tension in the air. Just as Asia was about to say something, shocked into silence as she was, Van started giving out orders and everyone followed. It was hard not to follow when Asia finally realized that her nephew was about to cry, feeling like an ass for not noticing sooner, inciting her rage all the more. How could they argue like this in front of their son? Didn't his feelings matter? Did they care? With the sight of the blood on Evras' face, Asia wondered if she could put the blame all on Zanon, but for that, she blamed both for all the screaming.
It was her turn, Silas grabbing her arm to pull her away as Van had ordered, but Asia jerked her arm away as she pulled her bow over her head. The bow that Zanon had given her so many years ago. Looking over at Zanon, her anger showing clear in her eyes for her brother even as she still loved him with all her heart, she threw the empty bow at his feet. Keeping the quiver full of arrows, she turned quickly away so no one would see any of her rage-filled tears as Silas grabbed her arm again to guide her away, it was the one and only thing that she wished she could change about herself. They were still yelling, Vangelis' voice louder than them all, she heard him yell at Evras to go to his room and stay there which gave Asia an idea. "I am so sorry Silas." It was her only warning, quick and exactly like Nike had taught her, Asia stomped on her brother's foot. As she stomped, she rolled her body, using gravity to help her as she rolled to the point that Silas was either going to break her arm or let her go, thankfully he let her go as he held his foot. It was a risk, a risk that Asia was willing to take, as she bolted for Vangelis' room. Was it the luck of the gods? Or was she just now even faster than before? As she ran, she made it to Vangelis' room just as Evras did, pushing her into the room and locking the door behind them both.
”Yes, yes I did because how could you not be? How could I love you when I went against everyone I love and trust to marry you? Convenient you fell pregnant so quickly, is he even my son?!”
Zanon spat out the words, fully enraged and walking forward and lifting a hand as if to strike her before balling it into a fist and letting it fall to his side again. The voice from above was one he was accustomed to hearing on the battlefield, it was the one he followed and rallied to in the worst of times, but now it made him growl to hear his elder brother exercising his authority over him. Turning to glare up at his entire family, he took in every single expression with pure spite in his own gaze, drunk enough not to give a damn if every single one of them heard what he was saying.
Until his eyes landed on Dion. Seeing the tears in his son’s eyes he clenched his jaw and turned away from him, waiting as the family filed out on orders from the eldest Kotas brother. Every line of his body was tense, filled with a rage that could rival that of a furious lion ready to pounce and destroy everything that had crossed him.
The blow was unexpected and he grunted in pain as the blow connected with his face, landing hard on his side and biting the inside of his cheek. Trying to catch his breath, Zanon rolled over onto himself, bracing his elbows on the floor and keeping his head tucked until the blood trickling from nose and mouth made it difficult to breathe. As he spat it out onto the ground, he turned to look up at his brother as he advanced on Evras, making a halfhearted sort of lunge in their direction on an ironic instinct to try to prevent him from hurting her. In his addled state nothing made sense.
Staying on the ground as he processed the pain and everyone moved around him, Zanon felt his eyes burning with shameful tears that he was fighting to keep back as his brother spoke. Vangelis was using his commander voice and the second prince shook his head at the question, head falling into his hands and caring little for the crimson streaks dripping into his beard.
”"I can't make love to my wife anymore. They say she's a witch...I've been wondering for a while now if they're right. If she's put a curse on me."
She had heard Zanon's last words as she left. He doubted the paternity of his own son? When she had laid with no one else but him? Just how far was he going to go? Evras was just beginning to question just how far was she going to allow him to go, before she finally bit her love for him and tossed it awy, when a loud yell came from behind. Evras started, just about to turn around to see where the commotion came from when a force pushed her in to the room, causing the fair-skinned woman to stumble in, almost falling had she not caught herself on a chair.
Hearing the lock click, she turned to the back, and froze when she saw the figure of Athanasia. Back when she had first married into the family, she had been on good terms with young Athanasia, who had been but a young 8 year old. She had watched the young girl grow up, and had a very soft spot for the young girl... until Zanon had decided to renounce all connection to his wife by outright snubbing her presence.
Athanasia had followed suit - which was perhaps the most heartbreaking, that her husband's desertion had resulted in more then one relationship being taken away from her.
Call it her fraught emotions after a very taxing evening, while Evras was not regularly a girl who cried, her emotions were frayed enough that the moment the silence came at the close of the door, her eyes brimmed, and the tears spilled over and down her cheek. "He dared say Dion isn't his son, Asia." her soft voice murmured, as the strength fled her body and her knees gave out. Evras fell heavily in the chair, crouched over her knees, her body shivering. "He... Maybe he just never loved me to begin with."
Athanasia didn't mean to hit Evras so hard on the way in, but she wanted to make sure she beat anyone else here if they chased her in her very clear disobedience to her eldest brothers orders, it probably was a good thing it wasn't uncommon for her not to obey. Turning to face her sister-in-law, it was hard to express the pain that she felt at all the time that had passed between them. Grabbing another random chair, Asia forced it to slide across the floor as she added one more block, not even caring just how much this will probably annoy Vangelis since it was his room. She felt foolish for listening to Zanon in his worries, for taking his side between the two but for her, it was the way things have always been for her. She stood by her brothers no matter what, until tonight. "I did not mean to hit you so hard, I just... I wanted to make sure to get the door locked before anyone came barging in and forcing me to go to my room." Athanasia never expected any response from Evras, anticipating that she would hate her now as she had every right too. So when she did speak, it surprised Asia even as it broke her heart. "Zanon is an idiot. A drunken fool who I hope gets some sense knocked into him by Vangelis."
Asia did hope for that too, that Van would make Zan see just how stupid he was being. "He knows that Dion is his son, he knows this, there is no denying that that boy looks very much like Zanon does, just younger. If he had any doubts, they would have been voiced much sooner than now. Remember, there was the talk of training him at dinner? How no one seems to take in that I am the best?" Now she was trying to cheer up the other woman, guessing it wasn't going to work but she had to at least try. Asia was not exactly known for comfort, but that does not mean that she wouldn't try for her family. Lowering down to the ground in front of Evras, sitting on her knees as she placed her hands lightly against the ones that hugged her knees to her in a move that mimicked her mother in a lot of ways. "He loves you, if he did not I doubt you two would still be husband and wife. He just let those stupid rumors get to him and fill his head." In a move that was like a memory, something familiar but now foreign because it had been so long, Asia wrapped her arms around Evras and hugged her. "I am sorry for being stupid too."
He had always respected his brother. All of them in fact. But most especially Zanon. Yiannis was too impulsive and needed corralling, Silas was still young and had not yet matured into the man he would one day become. Zanon was closed in age to the eldest and had long since became the final version of himself - one that Vangelis could and did respect and honour. There was no-one he would have rather had at his side in time of war or politics. In anything. From a fist fight in a tavern to a courtly game of verbal chess. Zanon was his second, through and through.
Which meant half of him ached and bled for him. The man was in pain, in turmoil over his marriage, in confusion over his son and in a personal spiral of self-destruction since his injury three years ago. An injury Vangelis had always known about - he had been the one to go and bring his brother back from the medical tent on the battlefield, back to their home. But he had never known the thought process or the blame that the man had placed on his wife because of it.
All he knew, was that Zanon's life and relationship with Evras had gradually disintegrated into a destructive outlet of emotions for the last three years. And it now culminated in him whimpering on the floor from his inner anguish.
And the half of him that was the man's brother wept for him.
The half of Vangelis that was the man's leader - his Head of House, his Crown Prince... wanted to scream at Zanon. To call him all kinds of idiot from dawn until dusk, to beat him over the head with a blunt instrument until he started talking sense again.
The thoughts and fears the man was spewing were only coming out with belief behind them because Zanon had allowed them to fester for so long, to ingrain themselves into his mind. Had the Zanon of three years ago heard himself now he would have laughed at the insanity of it all.
Vangelis didn't laugh. Instead, he reached forward without mercy and grabbed at his brother's tunic. With the leather bunched in the strong grip of his left hand, he hauled his brother to his feet and then yanked him towards the front doors.
Without a word, Vangelis pushed open the doors to the main foyer and then pulled and dragged Zanon - mostly backwards, given that his grip was on the back of his tunic - across the courtyard, away from the corpse still laying out on their front grounds (Vangelis would have to deal with that later), around the manor and towards the open plains of grass that were the Kotas family's riding gardens. The small woodland area they had over part of their flat land - carved out of the mountainside - was dark and shadowy in the distance and the grass glittered in the moonlight with its late-night dew.
With a hauling motion, Vangelis threw Zanon forward, intent on him losing his footing entirely and falling onto the ground, onto the wet grass.
Normally, he wouldn't have been able to man-handle his brother in such a way. Zanon was almost the same height as Vangelis and while of a slightly slimmer build was wicked fast and just as capable in hand to hand combat. He was no pushover. But right now, in this moment, he was weak with emotion and exhaustion from three years of hard marriage and Vangelis was strong with anger.
As his brother hit the ground Vangelis kicked out at his book.
"Get up, Zanon." He told the man. "Get up!"
Pointing an angry finger at him he then motioned for the man to come forward.
"You're angry and you're not thinking clearly." He told him, making another beckoning gesture with his hand. "Come one... hit me." He told him. "You want to take all this rage out on someone you take it out on me - you don't bring your wife into it and you certainly don't kill a man on our front porch!"
Expecting the man's hesitation, he shouted at him to rouse his anger, knowing they were too far into their own grounds for anyone to hear.
"Come on you idiot. Imagine it was me." His eyes narrowed. "I did it - I was the one who kissed Evras. I was the one who touched your wife. In plain view of everyone. Right in front of you. Kissed her like she was mine!
The tears could only last so long before the Blood Prince was hauling him up off the ground, choking him slightly as he yanked on his tunic and ripped him through the halls and out the door. This was behavior he’d only ever seen enforced on other men. In every other circumstance he had been the one standing by Vangelis’ side watching with arms folded and a stoic face as the others were disciplined. Now being pulled past the corpse of the man who’d kissed his wife he felt as if he was nothing, all of the pain and anger and fear he’d felt over the three years past bubbling over.
Zanon landed harshly in the grass, grunting in pain and rolling away from his brother. The damp ground was cool and soothing against his burning skin, the rage and drink causing his normally tanned skin to turn a ruddy red. He was too tired for this nonsense, and it showed in just how easily his injured brother was able to toss him about. For the past three years everything had been wearing on him, breaking him down slowly at first and lately faster and faster. It felt as if everything he was had been eroding like the cliffs of Colchis and he’d reached the raw breaking point where he would crumble into the sea.
Shaking his head at Vang’s order, Zanon stayed on the ground, trying once again to catch his breath after his brother’s rough treatment. It felt very much as if he was going to be sick right there in the grass and shame was creeping in. He couldn’t hit the man who just weeks ago had been at the banks of the Styx. He’d been terrified when his brother had been injured, it was as if he too had suffered along with him and now even with the temptation he couldn’t do it.
”Shut up. Just...you’ve stayed out of it so far. The man is dead, when father returns he can dissolve the marriage. I was going to try to...it doesn’t matter anymore. She doesn’t love me.”
His words were slurred partially from the drink and partially from the cut on the inside of his lip and cheek from Vang’s earlier punch, and as he turned to glare up at his brother he spat more blood in response to the taunting. His anger was building once again, and with that last straw Zanon hauled himself off the ground and charged toward his brother, barreling into him with every thought of protecting him vanished, clouded with a fury and jealousy he’d never felt before, swinging with all of his might toward Vangelis’ torso where there was more chance of his drunken blows connecting. His world was shattering and he didn’t know how to fix it.
The princess was apologetic, but the tone barely registered through the roar of blood in Evras's ears, trying and failing to hold in her tears that bubbled forth. The longer Athanasia talked, the more her words seem to surface in Evras's conscious, and through the tears despite herself, Evras let out a laugh, even if it sounded hollow and dry in her ears. The memory of the argumentative dinner they had had just a few weeks earlier had been amusing and at least enjoyable in her seemingly bleak life in the Kotas residences.
But the humor was lost on her, lost in all the pain that now gripped at her at the final stake her husband had just driven through her heart. She had believed before this that maybe, just maybe it had been her mistake that Zanon had decided to start sowing his wild oats again. That perhaps if she waited it out, he would see sense again. She wanted so desperately to believe that he loved her, at least a little. That the reason why they had gotten married still lingered.
Whatever was left of that belief was dashed the moment he doubted Dion's parentage. A fight of indignance and pain had blossomed at his accusation, along with the hurt that simply intensified. Evras had never, in her life, even considered laying with anyone else after Zanon had come along. If she had a fault, it was her loyalty to those she loves. Mihail had always pointed it out. Now she wondered if her loyalty to her husband was misplaced.
A wry, disbelieving and almost bitter laugh, a kind that was uncharacteristic of Evras escpaed when Athanasia insisted that Zanon loved her. She found that extremely hard to believe at this point. "We remain because of Dion, Asia. I will not delude myself any further. There is no longer love between us. At least not for him." her tone dripped with pain and sarcasm, as she gripped her fists on her knees. "If he trusted me, he would never have believed them in the first place."
Athanasia's hug was a surprise, but Evras was too shell shocked to even register and act on the surprise. Merely sunk into the younger girl's embrace, as if all the fight had left her. Her head hurt, pounding behind her eyes from all the screaming and tears that had burned their way down her cheek. Reaching up, the fair-skinned elder woman lay a comforting hand on Asia, and with a shaky voice, managed to speak. "Do not be sorry, Asia. You were only loyal to your brother. I... Never mind."
Letting her hand fall, she let it curl into her chiton, gripping tightly as if somehow doing that would release all the frustration out to a different source. "I'm sorry if we woke you up, my sweet." Evras reverted to an old endearment she used for the young sister back when they had been more familiar. "You should go back. I... do not wish you to be around when your eldest brother comes to speak to me."
Asia could see that her joke fell flat when Evras' laugh sounded forced as if she did it just to try and appease Asia's mind. How could she cheer her up at all? Was it possible? With a soft sigh, Asia moved her brother's wash basin and grabbed a rag, making sure it was wet just enough before moving back to Evras and lowered herself before her sister-in-law. As they spoke of Dion, of Asia's belief that Zanon still loved her, Asia shook her head at Evras' comment, "I do not believe that. Otherwise, why would he have been so angry now? He is an idiot, but I am sure that he does love you, even if its just a little bit." Hugging her sister-in-law tightly, Asia didn't let go as she felt Evras sunk in, making Asia hug her even harder as she apologized for her own stupidity. "Yes, but still. I was an idiot myself and should not have followed so blindly."
Pulling back for only a moment, Asia lifted the wet cloth and started to wipe the blood away from Evras's face. "You never woke me. I was about to sneak out to do some night hunting, clear my mind of some things, but when you screamed I had to make sure you both were ok." She didn't mention anything about throwing her bow at Zanon, she didn't mention anything about how she planned to punch him in the head for his idiocy when she got the chance. She stayed with her though, shaking her head when Evras said that she should leave. "No. He can be mad at me all he wants, but I am not leaving you alone in here." Once all the blood was gone, seeing that none of it appeared to be hers, Asia threw the cloth so it landed back in Vangelis' wash basin with the knowledge that the sevents will make sure its all cleaned up later.
Zanon's charge of fury knocked Vangelis clean off his feet. Then again, he did little to avoid the strike and had had no intention of putting up a defence or blocking his brother of the catharsis he so desperately seemed to need.
Allowing his younger brother to take him to the ground, Vangelis's breath left him in a heavy oof that would have turned into a groan, had he allowed his thoughts to register the pain the fall had caused. One side effect of battling in hand to hand combat, though? You learnt to compartmentalise. To pack away every thought, feeling and bodily sensation - such as pain, doubt and worry - and focus on only the task at hand. The task of self-preservation.
So, instead of moaning on the floor like a wet-behind the ears infantry soldier, Vangelis kept his expletives to himself and raised his arms in a practised manner - one that shielded the front of his body from harm as Zanon let loose all of his frustration.
Vangelis ensured no heavy blows were dealt to any of his more delicate areas since the cave in, by making certain they were hard to reach for Zanon's drunken attacks. But it didn't stop the man's assault from hurting. His brother was a trained fighter, just like him, and he knew how to land a punch with more force than his thinner frame should warrant. He was also angry beyond measure and Vangelis knew how such passion could drive a man to be stronger than he might otherwise have managed.
As Vangelis felt the blows start to die off and slow in frequency, he wondered if Zanon had tired himself out physically or had just exerted so much emotion that he could no longer raise an arm or hand in vehemence.
Perhaps he had simply come to his senses and realised that Vangelis was not the one who had been kissing his wife and that he was no the victim Zanon truly wanted for his aggression. But was, instead, his beloved brother.
Though judging from the stench of stale wine on the man's breath, Vangelis could hardly help but believe this to be an unlikely eventuality.
Instead, given the sobs that had started to wrack his brother's body, Vangelis suspected that Zanon was simply tired to his core.
Tired of a marriage that was clearly going no-where (Dion was still an only child at eleven years old) and tired of feeling emotions that were so clearly stamped across his face. Across that and in every muscle, he had engaged to strike out at the Head of his House - his older brother - for the sake of defending his wife's honour and claiming her for his own, even if the mirage Vangelis had painted in his mind, with his taunting words.
Either way - whatever the reason - the result was as Vangelis had hoped for. His brother's attack slowed, he could hear him gasping for breath around the hiccups of drunken emotion, and he seemed to reach a depressing and dismal conclusion in his own mind - that his path forward was too dark to make out.
As soon as true hesitation came into Zanon's movements, Vangelis moved with a strike faster than his brother could ever defend against in his inebriated state and, with a hook at the ankle and a twist at his shoulder, the map was flipped to one side. This time it was Zanon's back that hit the damp grass.
Rolling up and onto his knees, Vangelis settled on knee cap in the centre of his brother's chest and pressed his weight into it. Not hard, not enough to stunt breath, but enough to keep him in place and have his gaze focused on his big brother.
Taking a moment to calm his own breaths, Vangelis reached back and plucked the material away from his back, where the autumn chill of the lawns had seeped into his clothes. He felt a sharp iciness run down his spine as the fabric was released and he wondered whether or not the sensation was pure night-time temperature, or an ominous premonition of his brother's future and how important it was for his next words to be the right ones...
"You are an idiot." He told the man.
Screw the right words... this isn't my battle and he needs to fix it himself.
"Father will never dissolve your marriage. Not with Dion the only heir to the crown. You'll bastardise him. Your own son." Vangelis pressed his knee a little harder, ignoring the sharp flurries of pain shooting up his thigh. "You won't do it in the morn, no matter how much your anger fuels your words tonight."
As Zanon raised a hand to try and shove Vangelis away, the eldest Kotas slapped it away, sending the arm out wide and Zanon's hand falling outwards in defeat.
"You had better tell me what in the hell is really going on here, Zanon." He ordered the man. "Because I am not getting up until I know why my nephew is being subjected to you and your wife's bouts of lunacy." His eyes narrowed. "There are no such thing as witches and spells. You speak blasphemy to the Gods for thinking such things. What nonsense planted that seed, of all things?"
Vangelis might have been in pain - so one part of his brain was trying to tell him - but his gaze was firm and sharp, and his jaw set in a determined look his brother would know well. Vangelis was a lot of things, but a breaker of his word was not one of them. He was not moving until he had some answers.
Each blow felt worse than the first. He was relieving the anxiety and pain and sadness of what he had seen, everything he had been privately dealing with that was now there for all to see. His eyes were clouded with a red fury and tears as his blows landed on his brother, lasting what felt like a lifetime and barely a second. After one final punch aimed at Vangelis’ chest, Zanon couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer. He felt entirely broken, and as he braced his hands on the grass he couldn’t catch his breath.
It was as if someone was gripping and twisting at his throat, blocking off all air even as he gasped for breath, and he shook. His heart was pounding faster than it had ever gone before and he was nauseous. Panic flooded through him and he couldn’t react fully to his brothers move, the air truly struck from his lungs as he landed on his back, frozen for a moment. The knee pressing him down into the grass was not helping his breathing, nor his need to suddenly retch.
Staring up at Vangelis, Zan tried to absorb his words, still taking sharp gasps of air. He knew the older man was talking sense, that there was no way their father would dissolve his marriage, there was no way to be free of her or the Thanasi family, not after he had been such a fool in his youth. As the bile rose in his throat again he reached up to try to shove his brother off of his chest so he could roll over and hurl in an undignified manner, his hand was slapped away and instead of fighting he laid where he was in defeat, closing his eyes and trying to breathe to make words form.
”I blame her. For the injury.”
He choked as the bile rose, swallowing it with a face and once again trying to shift before he gave in.
”I was distracted. Thinking of her. I could never not focus on her, it felt like a curse. And people, friends I trusted, everyone whispered. They said she was a witch. That she held me in a spell. I know it’s not true. But she is a curse to me. Because of how I loved her.”
Zanon shook his head and tried to push at his brother again.
”I’ve been a fool. I had begun to realize. After the Lady Selene’s visit. I was going to try again. But I’m a fool. She never loved me as I loved her.”
Joy was a foreign feeling for the lady Thanasi of the Kotas house - as it has been for the past few years since her husband had distanced himself from her. Perhaps her only source these days was her son's presence, and her sibling's banter when she managed to return to her familial residences. Otherwise, one would be hard pressed to see a smile from Evras's lips that was not forced or feigned. She was getting quite good at forcing her lips to curl upwards, actually.
Athanasia's optimism, while well-placed and well-meant, yet in her state of mind, only made the dark-haired Thanasi grow more bitter. "He is an idiot, you at least got that right, Asia." she muttered in a dark tone, remaining still as the younger girl hugged her. Evras was affectionate on a regular basis, and had often sat with young Athanasia to comb through her hair and comfort her when she had been on one of her runs through the jungles and got caught. But the situation as of now did not make her feel an ounce of affection, and it showed in how Evras merely sunk into the embrace, but offered none of her own.
Letting the younger girl tend to the streaks of blood on her chin and lips left smeared by her husband's fingers, she winced as her chin felt tender to the touch, possibly affected by how roughly Zanon had gripped her fair skin. She had always burned easily - now she realized she bruised easily too. Evras managed a light smile at Asia, not at all surprised by her nightly plans, her heart too heavy to contribute to the conversation Athanasia clearly wanted to have to distract her.
Knowing how stubborn she could be, Evras sighed, but let the matter drop and shifted once the princess was done with cleaning. Instead, she used her hands to run through her hair, wincing when she met tangled resistence, before finally giving up and allowing her hands to drop on her lap, eyes falling to her fingers. "I... I shouldn't have been so stupid, Asia." she murmured, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes again.
"I shouldn't have. But Lord Silanos was... was everything Zanon had been back when we- When he... when he still loved me." a dry laugh escaped her again, bitter in its tone,disjointed through Evras trying and failing to sort through the many thoughts and speculations her brain now cooked up.
Satisfied that his brother had at last admitted the truth of his inner turmoil - and not just random parts of it in his fights of pique - Vangelis finally released him by leaning up and back.
Removing his knee from his brother's chest and falling back onto his rear, Vangelis lent back on his hands and stretched out his painful leg.
When his brother sat up, they were positioned in the way they would have been as boys. Sat in the grass, their arms supporting their weight, their boots drifting back and forth, drawing lines in the dirt with the heels of their shoes.
Now they each sat there panting with the exertion of having beaten each other to the ground over a woman one already had and the other didn't want. What would their father say if he could see them now?
It was at that point that Zanon vomited.
With a stony expression that didn't even register the bodily function - heck he had seen far worse on a regular basis. His unit always had newcomers and newcomers always had dodgy bellies when it came to their first battles - Vangelis simply waited for his brother to finish retching and clean himself up before he chose to speak.
He had no idea whether what he had to say would help his brother or not, but he knew his father would wish him to share it in such a time, despite it breaking a confidence.
"Zanon... do you remember when I first went away? On that first campaign...?" Given the closeness in their ages that first trip with his father's military unit was the only one that Zanon had stayed home on. After that they had fought side by side or on separate battlefields but never had one waited back in Midas during a war effort. Not until Zanon's injury at least.
"I am back and father did not return until two months later?" Vangelis continued with his story. So far, it had all been information that Zanon would know and remember but the next would be fresh to his ears.
"Father told me to tell you - to tell Mother and the family - that he was leading the set-up of a base further east along the shoreline..." He looked his brother in the eye. "Father was injured during that campaign. In the leg. His wound became... infected, venomous... one physician thought they would have to take his leg, the other felt the curse would take his life."
"For those few months that I was back here..." Vangelis' gaze turned inward. "I did not know if he had lived or died... and yet he insisted I returned to assure you all of some lie to hide a frightening possibility."
Vangelis shot his brother with a firm look.
"He said he was distracted, Zanon." He told him, wrapping several stems of the long grass around one of his fingers and snapping it free of the earth. Vangelis fiddled with the coil of green as he watched his brother's reactions, hoping such a tale would end in some good. His gaze differed between the piece of foliage he played with and then turning his gaze blank as he stared out into the night, speaking the memory as he recalled it to mind.
"We had been leading different units... The enemy tried to encroach, we spread our ranks, the left flank faltered, and Father went to support it. I had the right..."
"We lost that battle... the left flank suddenly broke, disappeared. It was all I could do to get my men back to safety across the river..."
Vangelis swallowed.
"It took half a day to find Father."
His fingers tightened so hard on the piece he played with that it snapped it into three pieces without tugging it, even though his voice remained calm.
"They had left him... On the field... Left for dead."
Vangelis cleared his throat and the stormy darkness in his features slowly passed.
"A few soldiers brought him back to the medical tent - I was being strapped up for some cut or something - I don't remember... and I sat with him for days. I asked him what had happened. He said that an arrow had hit his breastplate at just the right angle to avoid striking through his heart. He had hesitated for a moment, panicked that the shaft that was stuck in his jerkin was in fact in his chest and his mind..."
Vangelis looked up at Zanon.
"Zanon, he said that his mind went to Mother. To us... He said that for a moment he panicked, thinking he was to die there and never lay eyes on any of us again... it was then that the lance caught him in the leg. When he wasn't paying close enough attention."
The elder brother paused in his story, waiting on the reaction of the younger. Her had a point to make from the tale but he was also aware that he had just told Zanon that they nearly lost their father and king when they had been but fifteen years or so of age. Asia had been barely able to walk...
As soon as his brother lifted his knee from his chest, Zanon sat up shakily and hoped against hope for one moment that perhaps the bile that had been threatening would be gone for good. It was a hope too soon as the second prince rolled and retched up all of the alcohol he had consumed during his meeting with the Valaoritis baron. It was a disgusting, heaving sort of sick that wracked his entire body until the poison was finally gone, and he could slowly roll back over to face his brother and force himself to his hands and knees and then into a proper seat.
Zan nodded as Vangelis launched into his story, it was one he was familiar with, or at least knew the basics of it. It had been a trying time for the entire family, and he had been furious that he hadn't been allowed to go and fight with the other men as if his fifteen year old self would have been able to somehow turn the tide and bring their father back home sooner. He had known about the injury eventually, but he hadn't ever heard the why or how, and listening to it now he felt sick again. It was the exact same type of distraction that had allowed him to nearly lose the use of his own leg. He had thought of Evras, of their son and what would happen to them if he were to die on the field.
Staring down at his hands, the prince drew his knees up to his chest and leaned his head forward, letting the tale properly sink in and squeezing his eyes shut against unwanted emotions that were rising in him. He would have to find time to talk to his father about this later. It certainly might have been helpful to know that he wasn't the only one. That the curse he was convinced had been laid on him was not true. But Nethis...she had always been the one he blamed for being behind it whether Evras cast it or not, it was through her manipulation any sort of witchcraft would come about.
"I blamed her for my own distraction. It was my fault but I was sure of a curse. And I was angry. Thought, thought she didn't really love me and it was just some manipulation of Nethis or the other Thanasi."
"It's understandably to be distracted, Zanon." Vangelis comforted, despite the fact that they both knew his words came from no real personal experience, having never been in love nor had children of his own. "But father told me once, that while family might give us weakness at times, it also gives us strength. When he fights, he fights for us as well as for his kingdom."
When Zanon mentioned curses and spells on which he had blamed his feelings for Evras, Vangelis shook his head at his brother and the misconceptions he had been labouring under, seemingly for so long.
"Nethis is a conniving and highly dangerous woman, Zanon, but she is no magician. She does not trifle in the ways of the Gods." Vangelis snorted. "Would you expect any of us to still be alive if she did?"
Snapping his fingers and patting at his brother's upturned knee to get him to look his way, Vangelis made sure he had Zanon's full attention before he continued, looking him dead in the eye to ensure his point.
"I am no romantic expert brother but do you really think your wife would be so distressed right now and so mournful for the last few years, if she were not in love with you?" Vangelis tightened the corners of his mouth and raised an eyebrow like he thought Zanon to be stupid. "You have been in emotional agony because of your love for her. Can you not see her to be in the same place?"
"I think..." Vangelis continued with a hard exhale as he pressed into his knees and stood up to his full height, dusting off his riding pants and tugging at his shirt to knock off the blades of grass that still coated the material. He forgot about his hair which was also covered in bits of lawn and, instead, held out a hand to his brother as he continued. "... that the only curse here is now much time you have lost with your wife, brother mine."
Gripping tight on Zanon's hand as he lifted him to his feet, he slapped the man in the shoulder.
"Come on... Time to heal this rupture in our family, yes?"
Even as he spoke he knew that what he said was foolish. For too long Zanon had lived as if in a trance, a horrible world where curses haunted him in the night and he relieved every moment of that battle where he had nearly lost his life and limb. It was all burned so vividly into his memory that his body ached as if he was still there on the field. Being carried off the field, brought home by Vangelis and left in Evras' care. She had looked so sad, so pale and frightened. Even when he was drifting in and out of consciousness she spoke to him, pulled him back from the brink. And in return he had come to despise her, ridicule and curse her, and break every vow they had made before the altar of Zeus.
A tear slid down his cheek, cutting through the spattered blood from where he'd been punched and the dirt from his tumble to the ground. Remorse replaced the rage and the tears fell silently until Vangelis tapped his knee. Normally he wouldn't have cried in front of anyone, it went against the Colchian representation of its people and as a prince of the country he had to be strong. But here, with only his brother who of all people seemed to both understand and want to help him, he could allow himself a moment of weakness.
"You are right."
With those simple words the knot in his heart seemed to loosen slightly as if the pain and fear he had been holding in for the past three years could slowly begin to fade away. It would never vanish entirely, he knew that, but at least they could try again, try to heal. If she truly still loved him, if she ever had.
"But..the man. She and her lover..."
Zanon gritted his teeth against the anger building, taking Vang's hand to stand. Whatever had happened, he had to at least listen to her side of the story. After everything he had done, he owed her that. Nodding rigidly, he gestured for his brother to lead on, shifting his jaw and taking stock slowly of the injuries he had gathered from the rage of the eldest Kotas.
Following him through the halls, Zanon hesitated when they reached the doors of Vangelis' room where his wife waited. His face was pale and drawn, and he had to set his jaw before his elder brother opened the door. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this.