Vladimir Arsenievich Zhikharev ჯ Troilus (apromisedglory) wrote in mythologs, @ 2012-06-17 04:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !zurvan, polyxena, troilus |
[completed/closed]
Characters: Polyxena (polyxene) & Troilus (apromisedglory)
Date/Time: June 17th
Location: Iriy, their home
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mild sexual implications.
Summary: Domestic bliss for the newlyweds.
Was there ever a time when he had thought 'I don't think I can be a soldier'? Troilus doubted it. But there had been many times he had calmly avoided the inquiry of why he wasn't married yet. He had always wanted a wife but he was also so focused on achieving the most he could from his chosen career. It wasn't something he wanted to discuss anyway.
And then, one day, he found her. It was chance, she a nurse and him in the right place at the right time. He'd always been a passionate sort, going after what he wanted without silly reserve or hesitation but he didn't dare to overwhelm her at once. There had been conversations, him finding reasons to linger or return to her. Sometimes he left his hat, returned for it and then left without taking it. The hint, of course, was obvious. He wanted her but she was from a respectable sort of family. Her stepfather managed one of the major shipping businesses and her mother was the bloody marshal of the region.
So Troilus was mindful and timed himself. From conversations he moved to finding flowers that he thought suited her to asking her to come with him when he had to go off for an errand and she could spare the time. Again, clear hints that he desired her. Finally, he moved in with a beautiful ring (but only after obtaining permission from her family). His blood was not pure Iriyian but he knew the region didn't care, that she wouldn't. What mattered was that she would fill that void in his life. The time that had passed since the wedding wasn't enough to cease calling them newlyweds but they had fallen into a pattern of understanding one another as spouses. It was different, he had to admit, and it was appealing all the same.
At that moment, he had let himself into the house and was moving toward the kitchen for a glass of water.
Polyxena was a quiet sort of woman, delicate and fiercely loyal to those she loved. She had been committed to her work, to helping others- she had been so dedicated that she had initially missed the hints Troilus left behind. She wasn't thinking herself worthy of anyone's interest really, not because she was flawed, but because her priorities were different, she didn't want to be kept from helping others. Her warm demenour at times could spark jealousy (she knew that). So she tried to treat everyone the same, and without knowing it he wormed himself into her life.
She found herself looking forward to his visits, his words made her fluster and his flowers were carefully kept in water and then dried so she could press them between the pages of her books and be reminded of him as she flicked through them. She loved him, with a quiet, unyielding sort of passion. It was not the same as his, but it was there, burning differently, but steady.
She worked less now, and came home early to do her duties - which she enjoyed - none of it felt like a cage or forced. She was happy, and as he made his way to the kitchen, he would've found her, cooling something from the fire to serve for dinner.
And when he found her, he was as quiet as a mouse, creeping on from behind until he could lay his hands on either side of her and press his lips to the back of her head. If she stirred a bit sharply, he would catch her to still her, to avoid any unfortunate spill or incident.
"It's indecent to brag at all but I'm sorely tempted when it comes to you and your cooking," he said in way of greeting.
She did jump, but he was right there to steady her, and Polyxena laughed softly, leaning back against him in an intimate and familiar way, "Welcome home, did you have a nice day?" She accepted his complement modestly, but not replying he was right or wrong, but the way she pressed back indicated that she was grateful he thought so highly of her.
His mixed blood had never been an issue, neither had it been his upbringing or past- she had looked away from all that because Polyxena never had thought in those terms. As a nurse she helped everyone, she felt the same way towards everyone. They deserved a chance.
"It was tolerable," he informed him, lips ghosting over her temple and down to her cheek. The hands that had steadied her moved easily to her waist and then down the curve of her hips. All while gauging her reaction to his forwardness. "There is trouble brewing, so tolerable should be valued while we have it."
He knew two regions like Iriy and Niflheim were just too strong to not explode at one another. And with the recent events, there would be more than just explosions.
Her breath hitched, inevitably drawn in- starved for those little touches he had taught her to crave. Just from him, and she smiled kissing his cheek back, she felt her heart flutter for a moment, and then steady itself. It felt like sinking at his assessment, "I'm sad to hear that. Your safety is the most important thing."
Her hand rose to his face, tenderly tracing the cheekbone, then the jawline.
"The safety of the czar and the people come first," he told her, any scolding in his tone playful and understanding of what she meant. "But whatever happens, we will make things work." And by that, he intended to avoid getting her pregnant until Iriy could be considered safe and clear of trouble. Especially if the demand for nurses came and she had to go serve.
Something curled inside of him, opposing the lust he felt for her but not bad. It was anxiety, for her safety, for the safety of all his family. He knew Gabriel to be in Ryugu-jo and Apollo was in Babylon, both with wives (though he didn't care to think of Gabriel's as very wifely at all). And, with those thoughts in mind, he dipped his head down to press his mouth against hers, to silence the talk that he had started and distract himself with all she could offer him.
Unfortunately babies and pregnancies rarely worked out as planned, but Polyxena didn't mind, she wasn't thinking of that at all right now, just how his lips felt on hers and her heart began racing. "I love you." She muttered affectionately, with more than a dash of submissiveness. Of course she'd give him everything, not because they were married but because she loved him.
Thankfully, the fire of the stove had been already turned off, otherwise she'd hate to set anything in the kitchen on fire, especially their dinner.
The three little words that Troilus always found caught him by surprise. They were sweet and real, words he was sure she didn't just say because someone told her to. He doesn't offer them back, not yet, but focused on every little button that is in his way at the moment, his mouth occupied with peppering her skin with kisses.
Dinner would be cold by the time they got to it. But they would be warm when he was through with her.