Persephone had been living on the Dimitrou land and as a part of their family for nearly two weeks now. Yet it felt, simultaneously, like far longer and as if it were no time at all. The former, she felt, was likely due to the changes in the relationships she had developed here, including that with herself. It felt as if such personal growth and inter-personal understanding should take far longer than a mere few weeks. And yet, the sensation of the latter - that time had been but a blink of an eye - seemed to exist only when she was alone. When the dark and past events of Athenia looked over her in the dark, reminding her that - in the grand scheme of life - their existence had been created not all that long ago. That she was still fresh from the tragedy of losing her father and then her sister in quick succession. Logically, Persephone had come to terms with such tragedy in her life. She had done so many years ago when she had lost her mother, which meant it was quicker and easier to except the passing of the rest of her family than some might believe prudent or compassionate. But emotionally... in her heart, she had no accepted it. She feared that accepting her family as gone would have either devolve into the state of chaos that her mind had been upon the stormy night of her arrival in Meganea or that it would send her into the arms of the Dimitrou family still stronger. Driven by the desire to replace her own. It was a phenomenon she did not wish to encourage. For the Dimitrous had been a saving grace to her in her time of need and had each identified themselves as kind and generous person that she was determined to give a place to in her life because they deserved it, independent of any previously made vacancies. She wanted to know and love the Dimitrous as she was coming to in her own way. Not shoehorn them into the holes that had been left in her heart at the death of her birth family.
It was thoughts and self-analysis of this nature that had kept Persephone up for hours each night that she stayed at the estate. She had slept well enough in the end. And gotten up for breakfast every morning as Lord Gavriil had so astutely put it - both literally and figuratively. But she still wasn't able to sleep with any sort of ease upon finally settling into bed each night alone. Not that she imagined in that way anymore...
Over the last two days, Iason had been suffering from an illness that kept him abed. The first day had been something of an awkward jostling of communications that ended with her lying beside him and they talking as individuals over betrotheds. The second day, Persephone had remained in her seat beside his bed and read to him as he slept. After assuring him repeatedly that her singing was not something that he might wish to demand from her, she had instead turned her hand to dictation. At his instruction, Persephone had found a few adventure stories hidden away in a small bookcase in his room and had offered up what skill she had from reading Emilia bedtime stories, to soothing Iason with tales of old. Sailors, adventures, savages and barbarians. The list went on. And Iason seemed to have enough of his humour back at least to laugh and pass comment when Persephone had naturally fallen into the habit of adopting the voices of the characters, as if he were like her sister - but five years old. By the end of the day it was decided that he would be well enough to join her for the ride of the Meganea lands that he had promised her. And the previously evening she had fallen asleep with grand plans for the following day, her arms wrapped around one of the pillows supplied to her in her borrowed bedroom, as she tried to summon Iason's scent to mind.
Aside from when he was naked and her body decided to have all sorts of reactions, Iason's presence gave Persephone a feeling of peace that she had started trying to bring to the forefront of her thoughts when sleep had continued to be difficult these last few nights.
It was with this last idea in her head that Persephone had fallen into slumber the evening previous. Now, she awoke with the dawn as was her routine. Which she had gradually started to fall back into. Whilst excessive emotion and consistent terror had been her companions long enough since Athenia to have caused her sleep regime to be entirely unpredictable until recently, she was finally starting to find balance once more and return to her usual ways - far sooner than she probably should be, as was so often the case. Now, aside from her difficulties falling into unconsciousness, Persephone slept like the dead once more - utterly unable to be woken up - until the rising of the dawn sun had her stirring and being immediately alert. Sitting immediately upright in bed, the long stands of her naturally straight hair waving down over her shoulders in light curving locks that seemed far more decadent than normal - perhaps the Taengean air was getting to her hair - Persephone drew her knees up to her chest and pushed her fingers into the thick, dark tresses taking a collected breath in and a slow and calm exhale out. As heavy as her heart was these days, it was time to get up and live her day. For there were always moments in each that could be cherished.
And today held just such a prospect.
With the promise of an entire day out in the Meganea lands with Iason shining before her, Persephone pushed back the sheets of her bed and kicked free her legs, her bare feet finding the wooden floors and padding her over to the door where she opened the port to allow the maids that always waited outside for her to allow them in. She found that, since Athenia, people sneaking into her bedroom in the morning to greet her as she woke was no a prospect that kept the heart beating in its normal rhythm. The ladies in question had been very kind and understanding on the matter and now waited each morning to be permitted by herself.
Once inside, the ladies set out their tasks with an efficiency that suggested great practice but a speed that held no tension or emergency. It was clear that things worked at a practical but not hurried pace in Meganea. Very different to the bustling and brisk ways of Athenia. Upon first arriving in Taengea, Persephone had found herself almost frustrated at the speed of life here. But, with time, she had found herself relaxing. Taking moments to enjoy the here and now - or what happiness she could find in it anyway. She found that the efficient and calm pace of the servants no longer bothered her, and that she was warming to the tone and mannerisms of the people around her. She found herself smiling more, being more a person than a rank. She had no idea if this person she was being was the "Persephone" she had slowly come to realise she'd never met. Or if it was someone else entirely. But she found herself not disliking it, at all.
Taking her placed on a short stool so that the ladies could wrap and cloth her appropriately for the day it wasn't long before Persephone was dressed in clothing both familiar and a little unusual to her tastes.
Back in Athenia, she had had riding pants of sorts. They had been made of soft gossamer, wrapped around her legs and stitched into place with long leather boots to her mid-thigh. She had then worn a chiton tunic that encompassed the pants, split down the front and back to allow for riding and had been fastened into place by a leather jerkin. All of it had been made with supple, rich black leather, oiled to full softness and shining as elegantly as the silk of any gown.
What she was presented with that morning were clothes that Lord Gavriil had purchased for her own - as he had promised her, despite her insistence that there was no need. And they were made in a similar fashion, but fit entirely differently.
The pants were not gossamer, but leather. A firm and well worked sort of leather that would be strong and sturdy for long horse-back rides. Something she would likely do more of, she supposed, rather than be carted everywhere in a carriage or on a litter. She held them up and assessed their shape, wondering if they were too thin before the women helped her change into them. She was given a soft fabric underlayer as she was used to wearing when riding and then the leather was wrapped around her over the top. The laces that ran down either side of each leg were fastened tight to the point where Persephone felt a little uncomfortable. After enquiring, she was promised that the leather had to be tight in order to avoid chafing with the skin. Persephone accepted that this must be true but felt awkward at how defined her bottom was in the mirror. She frowned at the sight until she was presented with a long tunic that was wrapped around her torso and hung to just below the curve of her rear, keeping her a little more decent (provided she didn't walk too fast and allow it to float with her momentum. The tunic was a chiton folded into shape that then wrapped around her bust and shoulders as a normal gown might and was fastened with a silver fibula on one shoulder. It's colour, like the leather clad around her thighs and calves, was black. She was then presented with a white himation that was folded and wrapped around her shoulders to then hang down to the ground behind her like a cloak.
Sitting on the slow chair by the bureau, the maids spent time braiding and wrapping her hair. A thick plait created a crown around her temples and to the base of her neck, whilst miniature braid criss-crossed in a net pattern across the back of her head. A few stands of hair were allowed to hang loose at her ears and neck, but not before the maids had coiled them around pokers from the fire and set them curling. Her face was next and, after a darkening to her eyes and slight rose-tinted powders from the west gracing her cheekbones and adding a little more colour to her palette (she had been too pale of late) the woman kneeling before her insisted on a colour a little richer than was her normal, upon her lips. The finished product was bold and... a little dangerous... she thought to herself.
Bizarre as it was when one spent their life in the middle of the richest gowns, finest jewels and people who lived in the height of elegance, Persephone had never had much cause to be concerned for her appearance. Not unless she was attending an excessive public event. Instead, the quality of her raiment and the manner in which she lived her life - fine foods, devoted bathing, the finest oils - were enough to keep her naturally impressive to those around her. Now, she would have to win others over based solely on her own looks and charms... Including Iason. Though, admittedly he had already renewed his intentions to marry her. But she did want to at least try to show that she wasn't taking that for granted and would attempt to prove his choice as valid one.
After she was provided with knee-high, leather riding boots, Persephone was ready to go, twisting her father's silver wedding band around her thumb nervously for a moment before dropping her hands and leaving her rooms with all the grace and elegance of the Queen she had once been.
As the arrangement was for them to meet at the stables, Persephone headed their first, not realising the earliness of the hour until she found only the stableman within the building, tacking up the horses that she and Iason were to use that day. Iason's steed was fastened to a post in the open courtyard, clearly ready and equipped with all he needed, whilst the stableman worked on her own mare just inside the stables main entrance.
"Can I help you, at all?" Persephone voiced aloud, her steps so graceful that they had made little noise on the marble flooring and the horseman was clearly started at her suddenly appearance. Looking around with a frown on his face, the man's eyes widened and then dropped to the floor with a hurried bow.
"My lady, there is no such need. My apologies for not having her ready - it will take me only a few minutes."
Persephone was already smiling and waving a hand aside.
"It's of no moment; I was early." She stepped forwards again, indicating that she wanted to take the leather strap he held into her own hands. "I would like to learn how to prep the animal if you could instruct me?" She asked the servant, clearly sending him into an internal panic as he wondered how he was supposed to complete his own task while also acquiescing to her personal demands. It was likely that he disliked the idea of her doing his work for him immensely. But she carried on regardless.
"What do I do with this?" She asked the man, focused on what she was doing rather than looking over her shoulder at him. She was holding onto the girth strap. "It needs tightening I would assume." She pulled on the piece to tighten the light saddle around the belly of the animal. The mare stood calm, and stepped only a moment at the tug, but Persephone wasn't convinced she was securing it tight enough. She simply didn't have the upper body strength.
Which was frustrating because, as a baroness of a province instead of a Queen, she should probably know how to tack up a horse. She sighed under her breath a little as she pulled on the strap again.
The day he finally felt well enough again to sit up and move about on his own was thrilling, and Iason all but lept from bed, unused to spending so much time asleep and unwell. Today he was determined to be back to his usual self, and even more so given that he was finally getting to give Persephone the horseback tour of Meganea that he had promised ages ago. No, it hadn't been ages, perhaps a week. The time between their arrival in Taengea and the various changes they had both gone through was startling, but he was not at all unhappy with it. Instead of being a king, he was back to being a baron, but this time with a future bride at his side and his family always nearby.
There was a hint of guilt whenever he thought about how happy he was that he would get to live out his days by his father and sisters, when the reason he had been able to return was due to the loss of his fiancee's entire family. Perhaps one day they would discuss it, the drastic change in circumstance and his hope that his family would soon enough come to feel like her own, but for now and today he was determined to keep the topic lighter.
Iason had risen with the sun, too excited about the prospect of spending a day on horseback to sleep in any more than necessary. Grabbing only a quick breakfast, he dressed in his own brown leather trousers and boots, his tunic of a deep olive green without any kind of embroidery or trappings, his himation pinned over his shoulder with the stag head brooch of Dimitrou. He'd forgone any thought of shaving in order to get down to the stables, and for a moment he wondered if he would regret not looking his most presentable in the Athenian way he had been trimming himself before, but then again she hadn't minded the beard when they had first returned. After several days in bed without a shave the dark hair was back and stubbled over his jaw and cheeks, though his hair at least had remained presentable.
Once prepared for the day, he collected a small bag of things they might need before heading out and all but leaping over the door to the stall where his favorite mount was kept. Bucephalus was a large and sturdy bay gelding, and had been his first real horse of his own when he had come of age. With a blazed stripe down his face and four white socks, he was just about the flashiest thing that Iason had to his name, but the way the large head was suddenly shoved into his chest affectionately showed the true nature of exactly who possessed who. Chuckling and tugging at the black forelock, he pressed an unashamed kiss to the beast's forehead before simply opening the door to the stall and walking out, Bucephalus following him eagerly.
He took his time in preparing the horse for their outing, brushing down his coat and checking his feet for stones before tacking him up with the familiar saddle and bridle. It had been far too long since he'd had a proper ride and both were eager to get going. Disappearing within to close the stall back up and grab a final piece for the mare one of the hands was preparing for Persephone, Iason returned after his betrothed had arrived and watched with a grin as she learned to deck out her own horse. Bucephalus looked over at him, waiting patiently for a few moments before whickering and making his way over to his master once again, clearly eager to go.
"You'll want to tap her belly. She has a penchant for holding her breath to keep the girth loose."
As he made his presence know, Iason's smile stayed in place and he handed the brush to the groom before moving to Persephone's side, his large shadow standing just off his shoulder and reaching out to sniff at the new addition. It was not unlike having a very large dog following him about now that he thought of it, but that had just always been their way. Reaching to take hold of the girth, Iason leaned his weight against the mare's shoulder and pulled the girth tight, waiting a moment before giving her belly a firm rap which caused her to exhale and allowed him to finish tugging the strap to the proper position.
"There. So much to learn, but plenty of time. Shall we be off?"
When Iason's voice spoke from behind her, Persephone was surprised momentarily but she held her control enough that her hands didn't slip on the leather, nor that she physically jumped. Instead, she simply smiled to herself as he approached her from behind and noted the familiar scent and presence of him as he leaned around to take the girth strap from her touch and finish fastening it himself. She smiled at his assurance that the horse was the one at fault and she was impressed that the man knew the animal so well when Gavriil had purchased the mare for Persephone only a week prior. Iason had often commented on his love for the animals and lands of his fathers (and then his own) estate. Guess, he was proving his familiarity with them now.
"You do that a lot, you know." Persephone commented, as he drew back and allowed her the space to find her own footing in order to mount the horse. When he offered her a glance that questioned enough for her to continue, she smiled. "So something nice to make me feel less moronic." She shook her head a little as she stepped forwards and placed a hand either side of the flat saddle she was readying to drew herself up into. "I think the animal is less to blame and more my princess physique." She confirmed with a tone of voice that suggested she didn't approve of her own weak physicality.
While her upper body strength was in many ways lacking, however, Persephone's legs were long, toned and strong. They were forced to be after hours on end standing with ramrod straight posture, often with the weight of a crown in place. Almost every moment of her life, Persephone's muscles has been taut and controlled to ensure that her elegant image was maintained. Which meant that, while her upper arms were thin and delicate, the rest of her was surprisingly powerful.
With a single jump, despite her height, Persephone was able to mount her horse with more grace than anyone had any right to ascend to the back of an animal (if you believed the rumours, Aphrodite was to blame). Taking up the reins in a grip that was in equal parts confident and commanding, Persephone guided the animal from the stables and into the full sunlight.
The mare was a beautiful creature that Persephone had instantly fallen in love with when the Lord Gavriil had presented it to her, as he had assured her, he would. The create was a soft dove grey with dark markings and speckles over the top of its neck, back and hindquarters. It's mane and tail were several shades still darker and almost the colour of charcoal dust.
Leaning over in order to pat at the animal’s neck and upper shoulder, Persephone then took both strands of leather into her hands and turned to look towards Iason as he left the stables and mounted his own ride.
"I believe I am now the visitor and yourself the host, Lord Iason." Persephone stated with all the elegant regality that had started to slip from her tone over the last few weeks. "To that end, I suggest you lead on."
He waved a hand at her remark, grinning as she vaulted up onto the horse with such elegance. When this had first been suggested he’d been afraid she wouldn’t be quite as comfortable or at ease on horseback, but watching the way she settled into her mount was a comforting relief as he released the mare and moved back to his own eager steed. There was nothing in his actions as far as he could tell to be impressed by. He’d grown up around horses his whole life, he could tell when one was tense and holding their breath as opposed to at ease. And he’d watched from his window when this one in particular had pulled that same trick on an unsuspecting groom who had been ensuring the animal was sweet enough for a queen.
As Persephone guided her horse about, he was struck with an urge to do something impressive something that would catch her attention. Not that he lacked it in any way. Bucephalus, as if sensing his master’s impending idiocy, laid his ears back as Iason approached and barely waited until his leg was over the other side of him before starting off. Staring down at the back of his horse’s head, Iason crossed his arms with a look that said he wasn’t entirely amused at the presumption he’d been ready to go.
”Buce, we have ladies to impress. If this is going to be a stubborn day I’ll turn us right around.”
The horse walked in a few more steps before halting with a sigh when he realized Iason hadn’t taken the reins yet to signal they were ready to be off. Waiting until the horse had been standing a moment, he slipped his other foot through the stirrup and gathered the reins before turning about to find Persephone’s gaze, giving a sheepish sort of shrug.
”He’s bound to punish me for being gone so long. So, meadows or forest first, your majesty?”
Waiting for Persephone to make her choice and pull her mare up by him, Iason turned Bucephalus in the direction of the woods, thinking of a track that would take them through the trees and our towards the many open meadows where other horses grazed and various late summer flowers were blooming, mountains in the distance sprouting from the rolling hills. Meganea was beautiful, the land lush and green and the animals and people upon it healthy and well kept. The Dimitrou barons had always done well by them, and the loyalty of their subjects was strong.
Entering the trees, he let the horses choose their path and instead turned his attention to his fiancée, taking in the sight of her dressed for riding and feeling a now familiar warmth stir in his stomach. She looked as beautiful as ever, but now with her new clothes and mount, as if she belonged to this place as much as he did.
”How has everyone been? The girls, my uncle and father? They all treated you well while I was ill I hope?”
Laughing softly at Iason's way with his animal, Persephone simply watched the way the man's eyes and features lit up. He was clearly spectacularly comfortable on the back of a horse, just being outside even, breathing in the air of his homeland. Iason was not an indoor person, like his sister Dorothea had observed about her own self. All of the Dimitrous seemed to be at one with the land and earth around them, never satisfied with staying within the walls of their home, despite the deep love they held for it.
Persephone held her own mount steady, the tapping out one of her hooves, curling her neck and dipping her nose as if to offer a haughty example of exactly how the ride of royalty should behave. Persephone found it almost amusing that perhaps the creatures too after their owners.
Her grin widened when Iason commented that the creature was bound to punish him for his absence from home and then was distracted by his question. She looked out over the plains of Meganea in the distance, beyond the trees and forest to their left but turned back towards the woodland.
"I like the forest." She admitted. "We have little of it in Athenia." And it would give her the time to become more used to her mount before anything so tempting as an open field was presented before her.
When Iason turned to lead them from the estate grounds, she watched the way he rode with a level of impressed awe. The man didn't seem to as much command his animal as he did simply move with it. Iason's hips and spine were simply an extension of the gelding’s own legs and steps and he moved in perfect harmony with the animal.
Realising she was staring at the back of her betrothed, who had slowed to allow her to catch up, Persephone squeezed her thighs a little and encouraged the mare forwards. Swinging the reins around her hands in a practised motion that gave the animal more freedom but herself more control in the event of a bolting, Persephone drew herself up level with her intended as they left the estate behind and entered into the nearby forestry of Meganea.
They had no guards, nor maids with them but as a formally engaged pair and Iason himself a Captain of his military unit - not to mention that their journey would take them no more than a few hours from the main house - Persephone felt perfectly safe, as the two of them rode side by side.
When Iason asked how his family had been looking after her since her stay and during his illness, Persephone shook her head softly as if to discount any possible concerns he might have on that subject.
"I'm not sure your family would know how to treat a guest ill." She told him. "They have all made me feel welcome enough to be assuredly guilty that I have nothing to offer them in return..." As the words left her, her brow dipped into a frown, as she stared straight ahead, her expression clearly indicating the seriousness of her concerns. But her tone was not one of self-pity or sorrow, as it had been before, when she had insisted that she was no-one fit to be Iason's wife. Instead, she spoke with it being simple fact - a problem she wished to solve, rather than a hopeless lamenting.
When she commented on the lack of forests in Athenia, Iason gave a nod and looked around at the abundance of trees on his father’s land with pride. He had always loved how green his home was, the living things and how well they grew here. It felt as if the life the land gave them also provided the strength they all drew on as they moved through the day, taking their health and happiness from the surroundings of nature instead of the cold stone walls of palaces.
”I feared my sisters might overwhelm you with questions. As you can see, their upbringing and yours has been very different. I thought they might be too curious about gowns and palaces and parties and bother you.”
Hearing that his family had been kind and welcoming to her, he smiled and turned, reaching with one hand to bridge the gap between them in an affectionate touch. His fingers brushed lightly against her thigh and he tried not to think of how firm they felt with muscle beneath the leather. Bucephalus seemingly disliked the closeness to the new horse and turned to nip at Iason’s boot before changing direction at the sound of running water, ears pricked forward as he moved into an eager trot.
Iason gave the gelding his head and resigned himself to getting a bit damp as he splashed into a natural pool of the river, pawing at the ground below and tossing his head in happiness.
”Ignore my monster for a moment. I have a hippocampus instead of a horse. When we went to the sea he played for hours.”
Only once the horse had been given a moment in the water did he finally agree to cross the water that came to his knee, waiting on the other side for Persephone and her mare. Fields lay out before them, barely visible through the thick of the trees down one fork in the path, the other would turn them further through the woods and he waited for her to make the choice. His smile grew wide and fond as she joined him, taking in the sight of her in her riding garb and looking her over warmly.
They rode together talking a little, enjoying the quiet in between their words. She liked that they could do that. That she could allow her thoughts to wander a little, allow her senses to appreciate the world around her without having to watch every sound and word that passed her lips. In Athenia she could never relax. Not often when on her own and never when in the company of others. The slightest feeling of calm could slow a reaction, have her miss one in turn, cause a moment of mental lethargy that had her choosing the wrong or phrase with which to respond. One had to be focused at all times, in every way and with every sense. And what was more, was that you had to be seen to being it. Being focused was not enough, for even the appearance of the opposite was enough to spark rumour, cause issue or arouse insult. Every word, every manner, every moment. Entirely controlled, focused and projected.
Persephone would have called her previous life exhausting had she had anything to compare it to. But since her teen years and even her earliest memories that held etiquette lessons, Persephone had known nothing else.
Now, she could see a little of how she must have appeared to Iason when they had first met in Athenia. What a difference she must have been in comparison to his sisters. This self awareness had her a little different. She still sat with a perfectly straight posture and moved with exquisite grace, but there was a more natural flow to it now. Less regimented, less harsh. Her appearance was regal with it appearing to choke her nor break her spine with the severity of her gestures and frame.
When Iason commented on the girls and their inappropriate questions, Persephone simple smiled and chuckled, her voice soft like bells.
"They done no such things." Persephone answered, looking over at Iason with a warm friendliness she felt herself steadily relying on day by day. "Dorothea, I find myself hoping to become great friends with. She is a woman of intellect and substance that I highly respect." Her smile turned more doting, and a little sad. "Alexa I find harder to be around but only from the similarity in age..." She cleared her throat, allowing herself the selfishness to push away grief in that moment, in order to enjoy the present. "But I find her to be a brave and kind-natured girl." She smiled at Iason. "You're father has done impressively to raise three such people."
His touch to her thighs had Persephone's smile returning stronger and she was about to reach out and touch the tips of her fingers to the back of his hand, when their connection was broken by an over eager gelding attempting to reach the water of the pond just ahead.
Persephone giggled at Iason's joke concerning the creatures of Poseidon's domain. This humour was a side to Iason she had not fully seen before and Persephone found herself warming to it immensely. When was the last time life had allowed room for jokes and joviality? Back before, everything was serious, all of the time. She'd never had something in which she could find a moment to crack such jokes, or even go for a ride in this manner. Not recently anyway.
"I've never ridden a horse in the surf." She admitted, calling over the expanse of the large pond as she encouraged the made to follow after Iason's mischievous creature. "All shorelines around Athenia are rocky or carved into ports. The only beach I ever knew of growing up was a small one, hidden away beneath the estate of my-"
She cut herself off as the made moved through the water, keeping to the outer edge where the water was shallower, ensuring a smarter rout that kept herself dry and the made only damp to mid calf.
"I'm sorry." Persephone offered, with a nonchalant and disposing wave of her hand. "I shouldn't speak of home in that manner, its not fair." Better that she lived in the here and now.
She was quietly and pleasantly distracted from such topics, however, when Iason paid her his compliment upon her horse stepped from the water and joining him at a crossroads in their journey. Her smile was sweet and her blush genuine. She had taken compliments for years - ever since she was an age where they were appropriate. But Iason was the first person given the opportunity to offer them when she had no regal favouritism to offer in return. Which means his feelings and compliments were all genuine and said for no other reason than to make his own truthful thoughts heard. Hence the heat blooming over her cheeks.
Rather then curl in on herself and become the demure flower, however, Persephone held her chin high and looked back at him with determination.
"Perhaps bloodlines have more to answer for than we think." She offered him by means of a modest explanation of his flattery. "I am, after all, half-Taengean." Persephone looked out over the nearby meadows. "Which is why..." She said, raising a finger and swinging it in that direction. "You'll find me harder to defeat than you might expect..." Her eyes flickered in the directly of the field and back again. "How certain of your skills are you, horseman Dimitrou?"
The last time she had raced on horseback had been against Aimias when she was fourteen. But Persephone was a little competitive by nature and the idea of stretching her horse's legs (and her own, so to speak), with a man she respected and whose company she enjoyed, could be left to roll passed.
He very much liked her laugh, it was the sort of sound that everyone could find pleasing and inspire others to mirth as well. He liked just about everything about her, but her laugh was something he hoped he would be able to elicit for the rest of their lives. Glad she enjoyed his jest about the horses, he made a mental note to to take her down to the beach one day. The image of Persephone on horseback in the waves, with her chiton clinging to her like it had that night after he'd found her in the forest caused him to blush and he quickly looked anywhere but at her until he took a few deep breaths.
When he looked back at her, there was sympathy in his gaze, and he reached out to touch her hand once again as soon as she was on dry land. He didn't want her to dislike talking about her home, or speaking to Alexa over Dorothea. Iason wanted to make her as happy here as she had ever been, hoped that one day these painful thoughts would become distant memories, more of a pleasant ache than a searing pain. He would do whatever it took to relieve her of that pain and replace it with happier times. This was her home now as much as his. Perhaps going to Chaoedia would help, having the run of the barony instead of feeling as if she was living in someone else's house.
"I hope you will like our home, the house itself is not quite a half day's ride from here. We can visit often, but it will also be our own."
She would be the lady of the house, and he was not so very attached to anything in it. It would be her prerogative to make whatever changes she wanted, and she would be able to make it feel as much her home as anywhere else in Taengea, which he would be happy to live in the rest of his days. Thinking of the sweeping lawns and gardens of his baronial home, he smiled slightly to think of dark haired children racing about, playing with their cousins and learning and growing much as his own sisters and he had.
Her challenge knocked him from his reverie, and it took him a moment to catch on before she shot past him and he let out a loud laugh of his own, spurring Bucephalus on though the bay needed little urging. The dappled mare sprinted ahead into the fields, and he kept his eyes on Persephone's figure in the saddle, racing along with her as Bucephalus slowly began to gain on them with his long stride. Iason loosed his grip on the reins, giving the gelding his full head and rising up to balance the weight on his back as the rest of his body moved in a manner familiar with the speed and pace of his mount. Though he didn't know where the finish line was in her head, he was happy enough to let her win unless their horses had another idea, the wind in his hair and eyes stinging in the best way.
Persephone didn't notice Iason's thoughts turn inwards to future daydreams as she was concentrating on navigating the mare through the clear waters and ensuring she didn't guide her towards an area where the pondbed was unsound. It was as she was coming back to dry land and as the mare took the quick step up onto solid ground once more that she responded to his comments about Chaoedia.
"I think that would be nice." She told him with genuine sincerity as she imagined what his own province looked like. If it was only half a day’s ride from here it couldn't look much different to that of Meganea in terms of land. Lush greenery, maybe some forests, perhaps some fields. There was green back home in Athenia but the lawns of the royal palace had had to be carefully tended under the heat. There wasn't the same humidity as in Taengea to keep the plantlife moist and fertile. It was why most flora was cultivated in window boxes, floor beds, organised gardens... not allowed to grow wild and free like here...
Persephone caught the way Iason was looking at her and looked away quickly with a smile. The way he used the word "our" did something that caused a tightening in her belly, a warmth rising in her chest. It was true that the land would be theirs. Upon their marriage, Persephone would become baroness. She would run the estate, ensure his home was well cared for, his lands tended. She would birth and raise his children...
Feeling that pleasant tightness grow stronger at the idea and her mouth go dry, Persephone cleared her throat and turned her thoughts away. Such things were her future and she could day dream on them another time. Now, she was in Iason's company and wished to spend her focus here with him.
Giving him no time to react faster than she, Persephone had challenged the man and then kicked her mare into high speeds, shooting forwards into the meadowlands ahead of them. The grass was tall but no hiring than the knees of the horses, allowing them an easy run through the blades. Persephone felt the sun beat down over her dark hair and her head warm now that she was free from the shade of the trees, her himation blew out behind and she was thankful for her hair being tied up some well around her head as the wind caught the loose strands and her eyes dried and then watered in cool air rushing by.
She looked back with a smile only once, to see Iason rapidly approaching on his own animal - a creature with a longer stride than her own, meaning that while she could keep pace more or less, she was in little hopes of winning.
Perhaps it was her competitive spirit, perhaps it was her determination over the last few days and weeks to prove herself skilled or of use - someone more than the lost and homeless girl that needed care and shelter. But she was determined to prove her talents in this if nothing else. Horseback riding was perhaps the single most pastime she had ever spent with her mother and Persephone had been adventurous as a child.
Remembering the trick she had broken her ankle learning to do, Persephone felt a drive of impulsiveness encourage her to attempt it again, despite not performing it since she was young.
"So, you are fast, Lord Dimitrou." Persephone called to Iason, as he drew level with her in their race across the fields. She called loud over the wind in each of their ears. "But are you brave?"
With a sharp look in her eye and the quick rise and low of her brows, Persephone's attention moved forwards once more and her tongue came out to brace against her lips in concentration. Leaning forwards, Persephone lifted her feet up to her rear and quickly found purchase on the mare's back. She squeezed her knees together for a moment to keep the horse at full gallop and then let go as she pressed into her feet and drew herself upwards. In a few, steady moments, Persephone was standing on the back of her horse, one hand holding loosened reins that gave the animal her head and the other out in the wind in order to keep her balance.
Whether it was her slight weight, or the grace she had been reported to have been divinely granted, Persephone had never known, but it was a trick she had mastered as a child (falling from her mount only that once) and had loved to perform to the praise of her mother and the terror of her father.
The wind was harsh from this position, the breeze more liberating and Persephone found herself grinning.
Spotting the line of trees rapidly approaching, Persephone adjusted her grip on the leather, re-positioned her footing, dropped suddenly back into the saddle, and then used her thighs and a tighter clutch on the reins to guide the mare to her right and away from the woodlands ahead, turning her to circle the meadows, not once losing her speed. The entire event had happened in only a few minutes, but for whatever reason it had caused her to take the lead in their nonsense race with no finish line as she laughed, glanced back at Iason and then kicked her mount faster, back across the grass. It was then that she realised, for the first time, that she was - after so many years - having fun.
Iason caught sight of the smile she gave him as she turned around and issued the challenge, his brow raising as he returned a grin of his own. He couldn’t have fathomed what she had in mind when she kicked her feet free of her stirrups, though the sight of her kneeling on her horse’s back for a moment gave him a rather wonderful view of the shape of her hips. His appreciation was cut short when instead of that being the extent of her trick she instead stood in the back of the mare and somehow through magic or a gods blessing she stayed upright.
While his initial thoughts admired her skill, it was quickly replaced by a cold rush of fear, and he reined Bucephalus nearly to a halt that the gelding protested as the mare put more distance between them. His eyes were fixed on her as she rode standing in such a way, mentally calculating how quickly he could get to her and if she could even survive a fall from that position. It was a horrible thought since she seemed so at ease, but he kept his eyes trained on her until she finally took her seat back and his breath resumed again. He hadn’t realized he was holding it until it came out in a rush of relief.
Nudging Bucephalus forward again, he took a more leisurely pace and kept the gelding at a lope as they cut across the field toward his betrothed and her mare. As long as she was enjoying herself and not simply showing a death wish given the current tricks and speeds she was performing, all would be well. Her continued speed was a bit disconcerting, but now that she was at least in the saddle, his smile returned if a bit less broad.
”I think it’s safe to say your majesty that I will never be that brave.”
His voice echoed across the field as he once again pulled his mount to a stop in the middle of the meadow by a rocky sort of out cropping, content to watch her race about as he tried to catch his breath and slow his heart rate from the panic she’d induced earlier. This was a side of her he’d never seen, and as much as he enjoyed it, it was a shocking turn around from her normal behavior and he found he needed a moment to come to terms with it.
Enjoying the feel of the mare beneath her, the wind in her face, the pounding of her heart and brushing noise of the animals breathing beneath her, Persephone turned at Iason's yell and only just caught his words from where he rode at a more gentle pace as he headed to towards the centre of the meadow, hearing his words just before the wind caught and threw them to only the Gods knew where. She smiled back at him, slowing the mare to a loping canter and turning her in Iason's direction. She called back to her betrothed a little out of breath as she called back to him.
"My mother was a Leventi! She would see me be no less on the back of a horse!" By the time she reaching a distance where she could speak to Iason without raising her voice, Persephone's breathing was energetic but no longer a pant. The more she spoke, the calming her exhales became. The run had given her a flush to her cheeks and a brightness to her eyes as she came to a stop beside the small, rocky island in the middle of the meadow, looking over it to Iason on the other side. The mare beneath her frittered a little, side stepped, bobbed her head and then came back under control; casual marks of boredom at being still.
"And I do not think that true at all, Lord Iason." She told him with her teasing title once more, before her tone became more serious. Still and calm, her timbre was not dramatic but matter-of-fact as she told him - "You left your homeland with the intention of marrying a woman you'd never met." She told him. "Left friends, family and origin behind for an entirely unknown entity." She smiled at him. "I'd say that's possibly the bravest thing I've ever heard of."
Leaning forwards, Persephone threw one leg over the hindquarters of the horse and lowered herself to down to stand on the rocks her ride stood obediently beside. She dropped the reins, figuring that if the creature were the run it would not venture past the lush grassiness of the meadow. And, as if to prove her words, the mare moved aside a few paces to lower her head to the eat but strayed no further than a few paces.
From this vantage point, standing on the outcrop, Persephone could look out across the meadow and towards the woodland ahead. She could smell the salt of the sea which meant they were likely close to the shoreline, but not so close that she could hear its monstrous roar.
"This place really is beautiful, Iason." She confirmed, her eyes narrowed against the sunshine as she pulled at a strand of hair that had gotten caught in the corner of her mouth. She turned back to him where she stood up on the rocks. "Is Chaoedia like this?" She asked, eager to know more about her future home.
The color in her cheeks and her breathy tone as she approached were quickly quelling the anxiety he held within, glad to see that she was clearly enjoying herself and feeling at home in his country for once. After two weeks he had been afraid that she would never grow used to the way of things in Taengea, but seeing her on a horse and the skill she clearly possessed, he wondered if this would be the side of her he would always see. If he'd known of it back in Athenia, he would have been far quicker to try to press the marriage instead of being content to wait. Perhaps if they'd married before the death of her father, the assassins would not have tried to kill her, would have spared her sister, but that was a tack of thinking he didn't want to venture down now. Not when she looked so lovely and happy for the first time since he'd known her.
Dismounting after she had, Iason gave Bucephalus a pat on the neck as the gelding roamed in his own direction, grazing eagerly as if he had been starved during the course of time it had taken them to leave the Dimitrou stables. Her description of his own brave acts were met with a shrug as he surveyed the land around them, taking in deep breaths of the fresh air and relaxing visibly even more now that he was out in the meadows of home instead of cooped up in a building. It had been too long since he'd properly explored his home, and being sick had nearly driven him to madness with how still and quiet and stale it was inside.
"Bravery takes different forms I suppose."
It was a quiet response as he watched her taking in the landscape, her posture seeming at ease now though regal as ever, and the clothing they had dressed her in made her look as if Artemis herself had come out of her forests to stand before him. With the goddess, he would never have been bold enough to approach, but given their relationship he took a few steps closer, brushing at more strands of black hair that blew about her face.
"Chaoedia is further inland, closer to the mountains. The view from the house is as if you're looking over a sea of green when the trees begin to sway, and we grow a good deal of produce, the rice paddies in the mountains are a sight to see."
For all her focus was on the surrounding area, Iason could not take his eyes off of her as she seemingly settled into her Taengean half. He didn't want to presume, but the urge to kiss her in the glow of the sun on such a day, in the field that was dotted with flowers and birdsong, was strong. Instead he took one of her hands and brought it to his lips, deciding to be content with that until she gave him another indication. He didn't want to be the cause of her tears once again.
Persephone smiled as Iason stepped out onto the rocky platform with her, his half shrug and nonchalant words breezing away her compliment with a humility she was growing rapidly used to by now. It seemed incredibly odd to her that Iason did not recognise the man that he was. He accepted her as his betrothed without thought of the fact that he would be an attractive prospect for any woman of his own rank and station. He diverted or avoided any form of flattery. And he seemed to be totally humble in his view of himself and what he had to offer the world - be it to a romantic partner or anyone else. He had never seemed to think himself worthy of the position of King of Athenia. He was perfectly content in his role as baron of Taengea.
It was... refreshing. And such a content and mature view of the world it was almost scary. One day, she might hope to mimic some of it but she thought likely not. Iason seemed to be naturally engendered with an attitude of peace about him. Persephone was far too fastidious to ever achieve that level of calm.
"Modesty too, it would seem." She simply answered him, as he wouldn't allow her to attribute courage to his already growing list of positive qualities that she had witnessed in him the last few months. She could have listed other times he had been brave to prove her point: the raid on her home, for example. But she didn't wish to bring such darkness into such a bright and lovely day. And the way the sun poured down its warmth and heated the air around her, her hair and her skin... Persephone didn't want to draw up the memories that made her feel so very cold. There were times that she still needed to grieve. And this was not one of them.
As Iason answered her question and describing Chaoedia, Persephone deliberately closed her eyes, her lips curling at the vision his words summoned into her mind. She saw the trees, and the mountains. She had no idea what rice paddies looked like but she filled those in nonetheless; no realism to prove her visuals inaccurate. When he talked of the breeze and sway of the flora, Persephone's smile deepened.
"I bet the breeze makes the treetops look like the ocean." She commented, with her eyes still closed, her thoughts picturing the roll of the waves back home in Athenia and turning them green with leaves and branches. She watched them sway.
When she opened her eyes, Persephone felt different. The warmth of the sun beating down made her feel cosy, the fresh air made her feel free, the brightness of the day made her feel bold. And she opened her eyes to witness a look on Iason's face she hadn't quite noticed in the same way before. He watched her with an intensity that was in no way uncomfortable, but had those flutterings start up again in her middle. His gaze was firm but comforting and she found her smile slipping a little as her mouth softened and the humour left the air.
Persephone suddenly became aware of her chest, of her breathing. Her mouth was dry.
When Iason reached forwards, his movement so slow and languid, they never broke the spell, she felt a tingling in her fingers and a heat spread through her digits. He drew her hand before him and Persephone felt her breath catch as he pressed his lips to her knuckles. He hadn't shaved that morning and there was a light and sparse beard showing into place again. The hair brushed against her hand and sent static over her skin.
She swallowed a little nervously, her cheeks feeling hot.
"Iason..." She murmured, her lips forming a request. Not breaking his touch over her hand, she reached up herself and allowed her hand to rest against the side of his neck as they stood together on the rock. Her eyes sparked and the corner of her mouth turned upwards as she mimicked her own words from not so long ago in the gardens of her old home, wondering if he would remember her choice and therefore understand what she was about to do... "Close your eyes."
Iason ducked his head at her comment on modesty, trying not to let too much heat rush to his cheeks before he looked back at her with a smile. He’d never been good at accepting compliments, really they’d been rare in his past. People at court found him boring, and his family rarely spoke praises of one another since their connection was so strongly confirmed. She was the first person to really point out his qualities that could be seen as good. Perhaps if he’d listened to the whispers of some of the women at court he’d have noticed, but they only ever said anything about how handsome the Dimitrou men were, nothing to their character.
”It does, the pattern of the trees is very much like the waves, with the birds rising and falling.”
Home was a safe topic, something he could speak on for ages. Ever since he had first been gifted the title of baron of Chaoedia he had been in love with the land. The horses that dotted the fields, the forests that provided them with their main export. Going to see the woodworkers carving and crafting fine pieces. His own bed in the manor was made from an ancient tree that had been felled, carved beautifully with stag motifs and the pattern of the mountains. Hung with deep green curtains to keep out the night chill. Soon that would be their bed, everything he had would become hers and they would share it together. Once they were married, he wanted to take her home.
The way she looked at him stirred a heat in his belly, but her request sent his brow raising in recognition, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. She had asked this if him before, and though he was always willing to bend to her will, in this he wanted to make a change. Persephone asked him to close his eyes before she kissed him, but in the past it had always led to tears. In an attempt to avoid that and take back some control, Iason shook his head, keeping his hold on her hand.
”Not yet.”
It was a simple response, and he was anticipating a look of surprise from her since he had never before denied her anything she asked of him. Instead of focusing on that, he leaned into her touch on his neck and allowed her to feel as if she had some control over his motions. With one hand still holding hers, he let the other settle on her waist and bent the slight difference in their heights to press their lips together. It was a chaste touch, different than the night they had spent together, but the circumstances there had been different and he didn’t want her to cry again.
For a moment he lingered there, simply enjoying the contact between them before he remembered something from the night of the storm. Without hesitation, more a curious request, Iason parted his lips slightly against hers and brushed out the tip of his tongue to taste her. Perhaps from the sun or the exhilaration of the ride, his heart rate felt quick, as if it would beat out of his chest for all he tried to keep his motions from startling her, grip loose enough for her to break away if she wished.
When Iason shook his head at her instruction, his words denying her her request, Persephone's smile deepened as her brows rose, recognising that - instead of allowing her to taunt him with their shared memories - he was offering her a tease in return. Had the man done this a few weeks ago, Persephone would have reeled, have excused herself from his presence, not enjoying a situation where she didn't have full knowledge of the outcome. Back home, life had not been something to play around with and trust had been in short supply. In fact, in no supply outside of her immediate blood relatives.
Now, however, with the warmth of the air around them, the cosy and languid feeling that had settled upon her - a sensation she would call almost pleasantly sleepy, were it not for the fact that it had her senses set to high - there was nothing in this situation that had her wanting to run. She had grown, over the weeks, to trust Iason with so many things. Both for her and about her. He had protected her physically, held her emotionally and supporting her mentally. He made her feel entirely and completely safe.
So, his refusal to behave and determination to play a game with her in the sunshine was far from frightening. And did nothing to erase the smile on her lips.
As Iason stepped in, keeping his touch playful with her fingers, sending static up her arm and a tingling in her palm, she allowed him to do so. She neither moved away nor leaned back, ensuring that his movement towards her brought them closer together. When he reached out to place a hand to her hip, Persephone couldn't feel it directly through the layers of chiton but it heated the skin beneath where he touched all the same.
Persephone felt her lungs seize and her heart beat faster, as she watched Iason lean in. Her dark lashes naturally fluttered shut, an open invitation of vulnerability, as her lower lip quivered and she waited for the touch she felt sure they both wanted.
When his lips touched hers, it was a chaste touch but seemed all the more intimate for it. Instead of him attempting to pick up where their physicality and desires had left them nearly a week previous, it was as if Iason were starting again. Bringing them - and their mouths - together in a way that was for themselves to meet. Not their biological drives. It might have seemed bizarre to consider their relationship different over the course of so short a time but it was. Iason was not the man she had clung too then for validation and need. He was the man she chose to stand with in a sunshine filled meadow and kiss.
When Iason tilted his head and adjusted the angle of the kiss, Persephone's mouth moved against his with encouragement. When he parted his lips and touched hers with his tongue, she felt the breath she'd been holding judder in her chest. She kissed him back before breaking away for just a moment, her hand still on his neck and the other moving to rest upon his shoulder.
"That was what I was going to do." She scolded him with a smile before curling her fingers into the linen of his shirt and lifting herself onto her toes, to join their mouths once more.
This time, she also kept it chaste to start but her mouth moved against his in encouragement, her lips seeking his and entering the two of them into a kiss she played a proactive part in. Not a piece for reaction but someone who sought his fervour and his touch. She liked the softness of his lips, even as the rough brush of his beard skimmed her chin. She felt his heart beat against her hand on his neck, felt her own pulse beating just as fast and then moved her fingers into his hair, stroking at his scalp and winding her fingers through his thick locks.
Tentatively, she opened her mouth against his and offered him back the same touch of her tongue that he had given her, sweeping it over his lower lip.
Her smile was still radiant, and he could see how much more at ease she was with him now than she had ever been. This was how he wanted their interactions to be, full of smiles and laughter, and a sort of contentment that let them be who they truly were together. When she pulled back he breathed out a sigh, trying to steel himself to be content with just that if it was all she was allowing him, but as her words met his ears his smile widened and he looked down at her with an expression that could only be considered rather pleased with himself.
”So I had hoped.”
As Persephone’s hands adjusted their hold on him, so too did his own, and he wrapped the hand around her waist a little tighter, holding her against his chest in support while his other hand skimmed the curve of her neck. Everything about her was so delicate, so small, she felt almost fragile had he not known the strength she held. This time he let her control their mouths, a small thanks for trusting him with the first moment, and he felt his heart race faster beneath her touch.
His first experience with a kiss had been awkward, a fumbling of mouths that he hadn’t known what to do with, and the first time he’d kissed her, she had promptly begun sobbing and ran away from him. There had been a good deal of growth between them over the past few weeks, and though his body ached for the heat and passion that had passed between them before, this slowness was what they needed. To come to know each other as humans and partners, as lovers.
This time when her tongue brushed against his lips he was ready, eagerly allowing her in as she tugged her fingers through his hair. A rush of desire coursed through him and he tightened his own grip, trying to draw her closer if possible and remembering a sound she’d made from a night that seemed long ago, grazed his teeth against her full bottom lip. It had made her sigh then, and though they were standing in the middle of a field, he longed for those sounds again. Like music to join the birdsong.
A soft laugh bubbled in Persephone's chest just a little, at Iason's words. It was a moment of mirth that sounded wonderfully self-satisfied that she had such an effect on the man before her and that she held his interest in her fumbling beginnings into the world of romance. She had never kissed a man before Iason and she had no idea in what ways she measured up to his previous lovers. Whilst he had admitted that such attentions had never progressed to the bedchamber she found it impossible to believe that such a man had had no experience with women leading to such a point and she knew it to be untrue by the touch of his mouth and the way he was making her feel. Iason had kissed someone before. She would have performances to be compared to. So, to hear his words of encouragement, of eagerness, only had her heart thumping harder and her feelings rushing stronger.
The kiss he offered her then was no harsher or faster than what she offered him in return. He seemed perfectly content to continue at the pace she had established. It was slow, not because she was nervous of his touch. But because she luxuriated in each sensation and basked in her reactions to his attentions. He allowed her to lick at his mouth, their shared kiss becoming damp. Their mouths moved together, as his arms came around her to hold her closer. She now felt the brush of her clothing against his, their chests causing friction with each heavy inhale they took. She felt a frisson across her breasts as they skimmed his chest. Persephone felt herself gasp, her lips part and it was in that moment that Iason's teeth nipped at the full body of her lower lip. Her breath hitching in her chest, Persephone sighed into his mouth at the spark of discomfort - a sharpness that turned immediately the heated pleasure.
Her chest rose and fell now with rapid speed, Persephone felt her heart pound in her ears and her hand stroked down the column of Iason's neck as their mouths broke for just a moment to find air.
"Iason..." His name was breathed on her lips, somewhere between a prayer and moan as her fingers played with the hair at the base of his neck. "My apologies, if I'm not very good at this..." She murmured against his lips, her words genuine but her tone light as she reached up to take his mouth once more. This time, Persephone parted her lips and opened her mouth against his, seeking the deeper connection that he had offered her when they had been alone in his room. Such an advancement might have been dangerous. For, Persephone remembered the raging of heat that the joining of their tongues had sparked in her, but Iason's embrace gave her a boldness she no longer feared and didn't wish to deny...
It felt as if he was entirely aflame, everywhere their bodies touched even with their sturdy riding clothes between them felt intoxicating. Iason twisted his fingers in the material of her tunic, gripping it as if to keep them both upright as their lips and tongues delved deeper into the sensations they could pull from one another. Her little sigh as he nipped at her lip, the way their breath played between them, her hand along his neck, perhaps it was for the best that they were out here in the field. If they'd been anywhere near a bed he would have been hard pressed to resist the siren song she was weaving around him now, even if it was unintentional.
His name on her lips sent a bolt of heat through him as he both praised and regretted how fitting his trousers were. The muttered apology drew a soft laugh from him and he shook his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose before trailing his own along her cheek and catching the corner of her lips before he replied in a pitch that matched her own. He'd never heard his voice quite like this before, with that edge of airiness and desire that almost made him feel as if he was tripping over his own tongue.
"Please..don't apologize. You're perfect as far as I can tell."
Perhaps she still had some misguided idea about exactly how far his experience had gone, but he'd never received any really good kisses in the past, most had been given as a dare, or in an intoxicated state, and had been more wet and unpleasant than this. Persephone tasted sweet and warm, as if the sun itself had blessed her lips, and he had no idea it was possible to feel so complete with another person. Every touch felt as if it was somehow filling him with a contentment and a need all at once, and as he claimed her mouth once again he was more eager and less refined, giving readily to what she seemed to want from him.
Pulling back just enough to breathe once more, Iason felt his heart leap in anticipation and nerves as he lowered himself to his knees before her, hands sliding down to her hips. From this angle as he looked up she was every inch the queen he had known her to be, even in her less than regal garb, and he smiled up at her affectionately. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to her stomach in a brief kiss and for a moment simply rested his forehead against her, taking a deep breath before looking back up at her again and giving her hand a gentle tug.
It was like some strange torment. By all rights, Persephone should have felt in agony, in discomfort. Her body was overheated, her chest tight, her stomach wouldn't be still and she was finding it hard to breathe. Her skin felt too tight, pulled over muscles that were held too tense. Everything Iason did made her need for air stronger; her need to pant and gasp heavy in her chest. And yet with her mouth and tongue claimed by the man before her, she had not a moment to breathe. It should have been torture. Not this pleasant restraint. A sweet binding around her chest that had her ready to jump out of her skin.
Responding to her, Iason offered her his tongue. A slick and warm touch that felt impossibly intimate. The muscles in Persephone's lower belly immediately clenched and started to burn hot as Iason breached her mouth and turned the kiss from soft exploration to carnal enjoyment of the sensations that burned in each of them.
As Iason gripped at her tunic, Persephone held tighter to his shirt. As his touch wrapped closer around her waist, she felt her fingers curl deeper in his hair. Everything escalated at a slow pace that felt like lightning and burned at high speeds that ran in slow motion.
Persephone could hardly tell if they had been kissing for minutes or hours.
What she did know was the bereft moment of cold as Iason broke from their kiss. The sunshine felt frigid after the heat of his mouth and Persephone felt a tingle in her own lips that suggested them to be swollen. A concept that only had her smiling and sinking her teeth into the lower of the two as Iason took a moment to offer affection to her cheeks and neck.
Then he was gone.
Blinking at the way in which he withdraw, the light changing through her closed lids and forcing her to open them, Persephone witnessed the baron drop to his knees upon the rockface. Her hands falling to his shoulders, Persephone steadied herself as he held onto her legs, braced his forehead to her middle and placed a kiss to her lower belly. Persephone felt herself swallowing against a heavy lump in her throat. The gesture was the sort she might hope for if she ever bore him a child.
The very notion had something deep inside grow tight, hot and almost itching with need.
"Iason, what are you..." Her voice trailed off as he took her hand and tugged to encourage her lower. Join him... He asked for. She smiled and sank gracefully to her knees in front of him. She stretched her boots out behind her, the toes of her leather shoes over the edge of the outcropping and her himation pooling around her like a waterfall of white.
Her smile was a little nervous but help no fear; only game curiosity.
"What now?" She challenged him, determined to ensure that whatever he was asking of her was worth the cessation of their kissing...
What now. Her question was a coy challenge and he felt the beat of his heart seem to skip a beat as her gaze met his own, seeing the open curiosity there was the encouragement he needed. With them kneeling now face to face, he sat back slightly, his lower back supported by one of the stones of the rock outcropping. As freeing as his riding gear usually felt, it now seemed oppressive and far too tight, as if restricting his breathing and motions. Giving another gentle tug on her hands, the heat in his eyes was undeniable as he tried to guide her into his lap.
”Come here.”
His voice felt rough again, and as he pulled her close to straddle his lap one knee came up behind her in case she needed the support. This was one of the most intimate positions they’d ever been in, but it brought them on a level with one another that made it far easier for their lips to meet without the difference in height. Lifting both hands to her cheeks, Iason leaned up to do just that, his kiss sweeter and more gentle than they had progressed to while standing.
Situated like this, with her weight resting upon him and the coolness of the stone against his back felt like a delicious sort of prison, trapped between the two and utterly at her mercy. One hand remained on her cheek, brushing against the softness of her skin and giving her somewhere to hide it she desired it. The other though slowly followed a path down the side of her neck, his fingers hesitating only a moment before slipping beneath the fabric of her tunic and himation to trace along her bare collarbone and shoulder, tracing a fond line along her form even as he wanted to throw off all of their garments entirely. The curve of her chest was so temptingly close, but as she shifted to get comfortable against him a spark of pleasure shot through his lower stomach and he panted out a breath against her mouth, deepening the kiss without hesitation this time as he held her close.