#yes the siblings end up of the god's quiver list after this event

[lal-ffxiv]

Prompt #24: Bar -

A Black Cat For Good Luck Prt. 3

The merciless God's Quiver. Hah such a pretentious name, Luician thought. They shared that thought too with every quiverman that marched by, as had captured Lucian bells ago and still the militia had him binded to post. Despite proving he was quite sober now.

"Is it a crime to enjoy oneself now? Is it even your responsibility to take drunks off tables?" Lucian asked the guard now posted to watch over them. 

"Enjoying yourself became a crime when you broke that officer's nose."

"It was in self-defense. He insulted my playing. On that topic, when will I be returned my fiddle?"

"Never. It's been decided you'll be traded off to the Wood Wailers on our rotation, so you can be safely stored away in Gridania's gaol."

Lucian gasps at the news. "To separate a musician from their instrument is the true crime here. The Elementals will bring down their wrath on you for it."

"Sooner The Elementals would bring it down on you."

"I'll have you know I'm forestborn. I was taken from tree hollow as a babe by my parents after-"

"Shut your mouth before I bind it too." The quiverman warned before leaving the prisoner. 

Lucian closed his mouth quickly, but he couldn't stay silent for long. To fight off a yawn, he whistled a tune. Lucian's whistle was accompanied by a bird soon enough, or to any ear it would have sounded as so. 

Lucian's sibling appeared next to him a moment later.

"Look at the mess you've gotten yourself into, I should just leave you here." Luca scolded while loosening the bindings.

"You wouldn't because Mama would be upset at you for it."

"You're the one upsetting her!"

"Shhh, do you want to get caught." Lucian covered their sibling’s mouths to keep him from raising his voice.

Luca glared at him and Lucian responded with an innocent smile. "I need to grab one thing then we can go."

Luca pulled their hands from his mouth and said in a harsh whisper, "It has taken me over a bell to sneak in here under 300 of the sharpest eyes in this part of the Twelveswood. You are leaving that fiddle or I'm leaving you." 

"No you wouldn't." They smiled at the threat before running off.

Luca caught up with them in the barracks tent. Lucian was crumpled to the floor. 

Luca rushed to their side but they had no injury, only a viola with some snapped strings. 

"Look at what these brutes have done." They wept.

"Oh, cry your eyes out later! Come on." Luca had to practically drag them to their feet and out of the encampment.

Finally, Luca gave a sigh of relief once the pair were well into the woods, but it was a moment too soon. 

"Stop there. That Miqo'te is under the custody of the God's Quiver." A quiverman halted the siblings.

"Rather a stuck-up name for yourself isn't? Certainly with a name like that it's below your duty to capture some petty criminals like us. So how about we both walk away from here?"

"You will be placed under custody as well." The quiverman continued to approach with bow in hand.

"My younger brother won't like it if you hurt me."

The archer looks at the other miqo'te currently sobbing while holding a stringless viola.

"That isn't my youngest brother." Luca added before putting his fingers to his mouth. A sharp whistle cut through the air like a bell and left silence in its wake. Silence broken by bounding thunder. Still just a coeurl pup, Luc'li was a fearsome beast as he came to his older sibling's side. 

"What is-." The archer wasn't faster than the coeurl and was paralyzed before releasing his arrow.

"Him too." Luca said point at Lucian.

Luc'li stunned his brother under his sibling's command without hesitation.

"You are barred from ever leaving my sight.”Luca scolded as he picked up Lucian to place them on the Luc'li's saddle. Luca added,“Can't trust you to keep yourself safe."  Luca patted the head of the coeurl for job well done.  "Now let's go home."

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hyacinthus - Chapter 1

ʚ Summery:   Hyacinthus, a prince of Sparta, takes part in the annual games. He ends up making the acquaintance of Apollo, who had come to support his brother's companion. What will happen when mortal and God meet?

ʚ Themes: Slow Burn | Fluff | Soft

HYACINTHUS POV:

The last day of the games dawned bright and crisp, and so very hot. That summer had been like a hammer on us all, beating down on rich and poor alike. Wine merchants and those who plied in light summery drinks had a roaring trade while the clay earth baked and cracked under the summer sun. The servants did their best to smooth the fields for the games as no one wanted it to be said that we were lazy hosts.

Champions from all over took part in our annual competitions, their presence filling every tavern and inn to the brim, their coin filling up coffers all over. No one saw a reason to complain. Not even my father.

My father is Amyclas. He was the King of Sparta, and, when it came to the contests, the most generous of hosts. No expense was spared, and everyone went home with a good word on their lips.

My mother enjoyed the games too, but for the potential spouses she could drum up for my siblings. She would come up with lists and go over each name with my father's counsellors, to try and pick the best candidates, driving my siblings to distraction with her recommendations. They were all married off though, save for me and my baby sister. My father would smile at all of this, as indulging my mother was something he enjoyed. 

Anyway, let us get back to the games, and the last event before proceedings ended for this year. It was the archery contest, and the crowds gathered again to cheer. As a contestant, I took a quick peek at the other challengers.

There was the young demigod Perseus, son of Zeus, and, if the rumours were true, a favourite of Hermes. Cilix, captain of the palace guard, and his twin, Cretheus, a man who loved to blame the sun when he lost to his twin. Funnily enough, Cilix does the same whenever he loses to his brother. There would be no living with either of them if they both lost. Grinning, I shake my head and look to my right. 

A lot of unknown faces. Some had the look of hunters while others were clearly soldiers. My eyes go beyond them, to the spectators. So many faces, both new and old. As my eyes skim over the crowd, something catches my attention.

Two figures were seated in the far corner, cloaked and hooded, their faces covered in shadows. No one else seemed to notice them. Strange, I thought.

A horn blew, and Cilix coughed. "Pay attention, my lord. Your father is watching." 

Father. Yes. He waved and cheered, as did mother. They didn't expect victory, but they did expect me to do my best.

I will do my best. No matter what. I pick up an arrow, nock it to my bow, and wait for the signal. 

Who am I? I am Hyacinthus. A prince of Sparta, a contestant at the games, and I had just turned twenty.

The horn blew again, and we let loose. First one target, then another, and another. I heard muffled swearing. Others dropped off after missing the target scores. The twins lost out after both struck well away from their targets. The bickering began even as they walked back to the others. I sighed and girded myself for the grumbling that was bound to plague my ears tonight at the feast. Zeus save me from those two.

“Good luck to you, my lord, ” Perseus said graciously, as the last target was brought out. This time, it was something made to mimic a running animal. I smiled at him, and groaned as the target started to move.  A mortal against a most favoured demigod. I’ll need all the luck I can get.

Perseus won out in the end, barely edging out ahead of me by two measly points. No matter. I came second, and a beautiful leather quiver filled with arrows, made by our finest weapons maker, was my prize. I smile in anticipation, thinking of the deer I could bring down with those arrows. As for Perseus, I look to him. He was all happy and smug, with his gold wine goblet and fresh olive leaf crown. The lucky bastard.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see one of the cloaked figures making their way to a corner of the field after the others left. Perseus followed. They exchanged words before quickly leaning in towards each other. Even from where I sat it was obvious that something more than words was clearly shared. They walked off in the same direction, their fingers brushing up against each other. I crane my neck for a better view while the air around me grew even warmer. Who could this admirer be?

"Did no one tell you it was rude to stare?" 

The voice was whip sharp, but sweet at the same time. I shot up, startled that someone could sneak up on me so easily. "Forgive me." It was the other hooded stranger. "I didn't mean to do it."

"But you did all the same," Each word struck me like a lash. "You forget common courtesy, prince of Sparta."

I lower my gaze, embarrassed by my lack of manners. My parents would be most vexed, as I was old enough to know better. "I beg forgiveness once more, I did not mean to stare."

APOLLO POV:

The mortal was a most gifted archer, and too curious for his own good. I had to stop him for my brother would not care for mortals trying to pry into his private affairs.

When he squirmed at the reminder of his rudeness, I took my chance to really study him. Tall and athletic, his face still held a flush of youth and his eyes were the sort that could make women swoon over him in a heartbeat. "I am most impressed by your skills with the bow. Perseus very nearly lost, and I very nearly won a wager." I heard laughter as Perseus pulled my eager brother into his tent. "My half-brother is very happy that Perseus won, and the lyre I lost will no doubt end up in his collection of special keepsakes.”

He gulped. “A lyre, my lord?”

“A lyre. And the promise of a prophecy or two.” I ground out the words, for giving up a prized lyre was like pulling out teeth for me. “Coin has no meaning for the likes of us.”

I could see him putting two and two together. The prince gasped, his eyes going wide like platters. “My lord Phoebus,” he sank to his knees. “You and lord Hermes honour us with your presence. Would either of you care for some refreshment my lord? Some wine, perhaps?”

"No food and drink for Hermes. Perseus will look after him." I was in no mood for refreshment, just a diversion until Hermes finally made up his mind to leave. “And nothing for me. My brother is going to be occupied for quite a while, prince of Sparta," I help him to his feet, my throat going dry when rich brown eyes lifted to mine. "Perhaps you can be my guide and my host? Nothing too obvious, mind you. I am not in the mood for unnecessary attention."

The prince scratched his head, as if thinking. “Well," he murmured. "The feasts are all out. Same for the storytelling. Too many people in attendance. Perhaps I could hire a boat and take you as far as I can up the Eurotas?"

Not a bad idea actually. “Do you play any instruments?”

"Yes, my lord. The aulos,  mostly.”

The prince's eyes dart down, to our hands. His was still in mine. I let go and my eyes go to his again, to that gleaming rich brown and the sweep of soft black hair, and that face. His was a face bards and poets would sing of, all strong and sharp and otherworldly. I had a vision of him and me, the both of us in a darkened room with him looking up at me, our bodies one flesh while passion and tenderness flowed between us. His skin felt like petals under my palm, his kisses like honeyed wine on my lips. So intense was that vision, that I closed my eyes to savour every precious second of it.

“ My lord?” The prince interrupted as politely as possible. “Are you well?”

I felt a tug on my soul and my heart grew heavy when the image of us together faded like the mist. I found myself compelled to learn about this prince. What role will he, a mortal, have to play in a life such as mine?

“I am well,” I say quickly enough. “You say you play the aulos? That is a good thing. Perhaps you can join me for a duet? If you have it on you that is."”

"I brought it along just in case." The prince perked up in an instant. "Follow me, my lord, and I'll take you to the boats."

HYACINTHUS POV:

The boat moved in silence, save for the ripples the oars made as they sliced through the water. Apollo was content to keep his hood up, as many had gathered around the banks for picnics and gatherings. 

Some called out to me and I returned their greetings. Everyone that had gathered along the banks tried to figue out who my guest was, for he kept himself well hidden. It was just as well. The commotion that would ensue when it became known that Apollo was amongst us would have been too much for anyone to handle.

We continued without interruption until we reached an uninhabited part of the country. Here, Apollo thought it safe enough to remove his disguise and his true form came into view. 

The golden skin. The ageless blue eyes that had peered into the world’s greatest mysteries and witnessed it all. The gold tipped laurel wreath that weaved through his rich blonde hair, the soft gold aura around his person. Apollo was more magnificent than the songs described him to be and I looked away, red cheeked and embarrassed. Something pulled at my soul, like a cord had wound its way around me, tugging me forward, but to what? 

"Never seen a god before?" He asked in good humor.

That pull grew into something deeper, something that took root just beneath my skin. I couldn’t make head or tail of it, only that it started the moment I truly saw him. "Never seen someone like you before," I whisper, my eyes still down at my feet.

He was smiling, I was sure of it. "Prince of Sparta," Apollo leaned over and lifted my chin with an elegant finger. "Do you prefer prince of Sparta? or would you prefer I use your name?"

"Hyacinthus?" His skin radiated a gentle heat and it smelled sweet, like freshly harvested honey.

"Hyacinthus." Each syllable was said slowly and deliberately, as if he wanted to take great care with my name. "A most beautiful name, Hyacinthus. Your parents chose well, for it suits you."

 My cheeks flushed with heat. Truth be told, I never cared about my name and I often wondered why my parents couldn't come up with something better. I had even considered changing it to something of my own liking, but now---

"Hyacinthus?" His voice had gone soft and low, a far cry from the whip-sharp tone from earlier. "Did something I say upset you?" 

I shake my head and gather my thoughts. "No, my lord. I was just wool-gathering, that is all."

He looked at me evenly, his finger still under my chin. "Very well." Apollo pulled away, taking away the warmth that came with his touch. Suddenly I felt cold, despite the intense summer heat. 

His eyes still on mine, Apollo reached into his cloak and pulled out the most beautiful lyre I had seen. I fished out my aulos and listened first before joining in. 

Many a pleasant hour passed unnoticed on that river. Apollo truly was the lord of all musicians, and I struggled to keep up. I still went on, determined not to falter and shame myself. My eyes flicked over to his fingers,  how delicate they were as they floated from string to string. Apollo showed no anger or impatience if I was a note too slow or a note too fast. He would simply smile and nod, to encourage me to go on. And what a smile it was, as glorious as the sunrise. I sighed dreamily and missed a note in the process. Come to think of it, I missed several.

"Distracted, I see." Apollo grinned and put a halt to the music, making himself content by taking in the scenery. The silence that followed felt like an unwelcome intruder to my ears, and I yearned to hear more. To see those tapered fingers barely touch the strings and create music more beautiful than any mortal could describe. "Could you play one more tune, my lord?" I ask as humbly as possible. "Please?"

When his head whipped back to me, I flinched and closed my eyes, for a tongue lashing that was sure to follow. Who was I, a lowly mortal, to ask anything of a God?

The boat bobbed as if something had moved across it. "Hyacinthus.” He said softly. “Please open your eyes and look at me."

When I opened them, Apollo had inched his way closer. Much to my eternal shock, he said, "I will play."

Gods do not say yes just like that, and I had the sinking feeling he was going to ask something of me in return. Something I may not be able to give. "But on the condition," Apollo took out his lyre and tuned it. "That you show me around your country. And teach me the ways of your people."

I sputtered in disbelief. Me? Why me?

"I would like to spend some time in your company," he said as if he heard my thoughts. The sly grin that graced his lips convinced me that he did. "What say you?" 

"I-- ha--have t--to.." I gulp and stammer. "B-be-cause y--you--wish t-to..."

His laughter was clear and silver-sweet. "Yes." A soft, haunting melody drifted over the water like mist in winter. "I want you, Hyacinthus, prince of Sparta, to squire me, Apollo, son of Zeus, around your country. Because I would like to spend some time in your company." 

My tongue felt like it was tied up in knots. How do I respond to such a request? To such an honour? How do I form the words? How? 

Apollo looked on expectantly, awaiting an answer.

Say something, you blithering idiot! "Yes. Erm..." I nodded vigourously, making him laugh even more. "Yes. Yes yes yes. I will take you around my country."

He nodded gratefully and went back to playing. Sometimes, I would suddenly catch his eyes flicking up at me and then lingering for as long as they could before moving away again. My pulse had been racing like a sprinter's by now and my cheeks grew hot. Apollo looked up again and I managed a smile before blushing like anything. His eyes crinkled before he too blushed and went back to playing. 

Thank the stars I listened to Cretheus and decided to take part. This would never have happened otherwise. 

When we returned, it was past dusk and torches had been lit. "I best take my leave." Apollo helped me out of the boat before securing it to a moor. "But I hope our deal is still on?" 

Why did he look at me so? Why did he ask again when we had already agreed?

Why did he look so nervous? He was a God. He only needed to express his desire and it will be met.

Seriously. Why does he look so nervous? 

"Hyacinthus?”

A finger grazing my chin grabbed my attention. A tingle went down my spine when I lifted my eyes to his. They looked so warm and gentle in the torchlight, as if they had been melting. "Yes," I say with certainty. "Our deal is on." 

He rewarded me with another glorious smile. "Tomorrow, the royal stables, at the break of dawn. I will come to you. Have two horses saddled for us." 

With a final grin, he was gone.

And the world suddenly felt cold in his absence.