#back on my telemachus!shoto bs

[irisintheafterglow]

you've never broken a promise to the prince until now, when the gnawing feeling in your gut is too painful to bear any further. the owl remains at the windowsill as if it was waiting to see what you would do. after pacing for but a few minutes, you decisively throw on your cloak and take hold of your sword. the bird follows you and hovers just ahead, leading you down the hall in the opposite direction of blood-curdling screams; rather, she takes you to an alcove that you recognize to be a secret window into the east wing weapons stores.

the one room you left unlocked.

no, you gasp when you realize who was at the direct center of a flurry of attackers. shoto was outnumbered and just barely holding his own; he was always too good-hearted to swing to kill, so his attacks were nothing more than temporary blocks. the butt of a sword comes down on his shoulder and his knee buckles. you turn to the owl desperately. the king. where is he?

the owl takes off and you sprint after her, silently begging aphrodite to speak to ares and give the prince strength. she cuts through a passageway that only long-time residents of the palace would know, prompting a million questions that you didn't have the time to answer. your heart is racing and your legs ache by the time she departs through the nearest window, leaving you at the last remaining torches before a hallway shrouded in darkness. the air reeks of copper and you take a step forward, only to jump backward when your foot meets something wet and sticky.

there is no noise except the crackle of torches beside you, but you can feel him approach like a rabbit paralyzed by the gaze of a wolf.

"my king," you force out, dropping to one knee and cringing when the puddle beneath you is dark red. "sho--the prince--he is under siege in the east weapons room." the king's footsteps are without sound, yet they come into your lowered vision all the same. you can't imagine how frightened you must look, twenty years of pent-up rage seething out of every pore of the man's body.

"the queen." it is not a question, but a statement. he will know what has become of his wife.

"in her room, your majesty," you reply shakily. "the door is barred from the inside and i locked the door from the outside as well, as her majesty requested." your eyes can't distinguish if the vignette in your vision is from the darkened corridor or your own fear, but you freeze when the king's hand briefly touches your shoulder. after a few moments, you muster the courage and the energy to look up, but the king has already continued his hunt.

when the palace quiets and the whooshing of arrows ceases, you quietly make your way back to the weapons room while the other servants begin to dispose of the carnage. bypassing the alcove, you wait outside the heavy wooden doors of the storage room, catching remnants of tear-filled conversation. one of the voices sound like shoto, exhausted but undeniably his, and you could cry from relief.

"show yourself." the king's voice, now much more human in the daylight, calls out in your direction and you hesitantly appear in the doorway. your chin stays tucked against your chest, avoiding your ruler's eyes at all costs. you wait for the banishment, for the cruelty that the suitors whispered of the old king, yet nothing comes despite your failure to lock the room. "raise your head," he commands and you obey, locking eyes with the prince.

though his father's hands sit on his tired shoulders, shoto doesn't wait another moment, stumbling toward you and falling to his knees with you secure in his arms. your arms lock around his neck, while one of his arms braces against your lower back and his other hand holds the back of your head. he exhales against you, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.

the king watches his son embrace you with a pit in his stomach, even when you rise and your face warms when shoto determinedly takes your hand in his.

"father, this is--"

"go. tell your mother i'm home," his father interrupts. the prince blinks once, then twice, before nodding. "i'll be there in a moment."

"of course."

---

"you are so beautiful."

"you're delirious, my prince," you say with a small smile, swiping the cloth across his cheek and clearing the splatters of red from his skin. with his seat on the basin, his two-toned eyes are at the perfect height to admire your face up close. his gaze flicks from your hands to your face again and again, unsure of where to focus.

"i want to marry you." that makes you pause, and you lean back to look at him properly. by some blessing or curse, his tunic and chestplate had both been shredded beyond repair, so you were left with a very shirtless prince. alone.

"now i know you're delirious," you reply with only the smallest amount of sadness. "you're a prince. you must marry a princess and bring glory to the kingdom."

"but i don't love a princess," he insists, pausing your movements with a hand on your wrist, bringing your palm to splay over his heart. "this is yours, only yours." you can feel where every nerve meets his skin and you swallow thickly.

"your highness..." you begin, but he has none of it. his grip around your wrist tightens ever so slightly; not enough to hurt, but enough to get his point across.

"try again."

"shoto."

"there," he smirks and you sigh, exasperated.

"the kingdom, your father," you argue futilely. "i am not who the world wants you to marry."

"but do you want to marry me?" his chin tilts down, waiting.

"of course i do," you whisper.

"then the only world that matters to me approves," he declares decisively. his attention briefly darts to the nearest window and the owl is there again, observing. "it seems that the gods may approve as well." you turn to him and search his eyes for any sense of reason.

"respectfully, i can't rationalize the blessing of the goddess of wisdom in place of the goddess of lov--" the owl makes a screeching noise behind you, demanding your attention, and you find that another bird has taken residence on the ledge.

"would you look at that," he murmurs in awe. at the window was a dove. the bird of aphrodite. go figure. you breathe unsteadily, waiting for an indication that this was some kind of joke, that this was a test you were failing. "well? fall in love with me again?" you let yourself smile as your fears wash away with the wounds on his body.

"i would, over and over again."

as the leading champion for loving his wife with all of his being, the king was nothing but elated to know that his son had found someone he would love and wait for.

over and over again.

I've been listening to too much epic the musical,,,,,,,,,,and I am thinking about prince!shoto returning from a diplomatic mission, whose eyes darken when he hears screaming from the palace, his blood running cold when he nearly slips on a puddle of red in the hall leading to the servants' chambers.

he makes a beeline for the common area, where you must've gathered the other maids when you heard the commotion. if he knew anything about you, it's that you were ready to defend others with your life at the first sign of danger. true to his assumption, there's a razor-sharp blade at his throat before he can call for you; your perfume is the only thing halting his gut instinct to disarm you. the sword drops just as quickly as it appears and he has half the wits give you a wry smile.

"i was about to behead you," you exhale, exasperated, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. the others hiding in the darkest corners of the room gawk, but you couldn't care less. he'd been away from you for three weeks, but every day with 108 strangers in the palace felt like an eternity.

"i'm grateful you reconsidered." shoto's voice is soft against the shell of your ear, his breathing steady and sure. "you're safe?"

"i am, but...your father has returned," you inform him, brushing the hair from his face with eyebrows drawn in concern. his expression hardens and the hands around your waist tighten. "he's hunting down your mother's suitors, one by one. i saw him when he snuck through the palace."

"did he speak to you?" his fingers find the silver pendant he'd given you before his departure, the royal crest shining against your collarbone. it was a glaring warning for any intruders who intended to give you trouble, a mark that you were favored by the prince and under his protection. though i'm sure you would give them hell if they tried, he added affectionately when he first secured the chain around your neck.

"he saw the charm and recognized it as yours," you say, dropping your voice to a lower tone. he listens to you intently and you can see the cogs turning in his brain. he had his father's strategic mind, after all. "i was told to lock the armory and weapons stores, but there was one i missed in the east wing. your enemies will be arming themselves there."

"my mother?"

"in her room, i secured the door myself," you confirm and if there wasn't so much blood being shed around his home, he'd ask you to marry him then and there. "go. your father is strong, but twenty years takes a toll."

"you believe he'll lose?" you give him a sad smile, pulling away to retrieve the spear he made you stash under your mattress while he was gone.

"i wasn't talking about the body," you say while your hands tighten the straps of his armor. "who knows what he went through in twenty years?" shoto nods, turning the spear over in his hands. a fluttering movement catches the corner of your eye, and turn to see an owl perched on the ledge of the nearest open window. you peer at it curiously, but its presence seems to instill a new spirit of confidence in the prince. he gently pulls you to him, his free hand on the side of your neck, and rests his forehead against yours.

"i will return to you." your eyes fall shut, relishing the feeling of his skin against yours.

"i'll be here," you promise. "waiting."