hathor ☼ estelle martinez (embriagado) wrote in mythopoeics, @ 2012-02-29 19:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | !mini-log, !zurvan, hathor, patroclus |
s i e t e
A few days had passed since Patroclus had killed Horus and any other number of men. A few days had passed and then the memories returned, of who he was and who he had been. The memory of Troy hit him like a punch and here he was in Ilium, under the rule of Helen and Deiphobus, of all creatures. And he was married, to a remarkable woman, and they had children.
Mishka and Sasha were here, in this place, and they were most assuredly his sons. It was all very confusing, as his childhood in Russia, his marriage, his time in New York all came rushing back to him.
There was only one thing for it. In the early afternoon, armed with all his memories, he went to find his wife.
His wife would be found pacing back and forth on bare feet, a kitten tucked into her arms. There was a way in which someone was supposed to react properly to finding out their entire life in Zurvan was a fabrication, despite how very profoundly real it all felt, but Hathor didn't know it. Her manner of reacting to learning her name was Estelle, that she was from Miami and dating someone who was not her husband came in the form of nibbling on a cat paw thoughtfully. Estelle Martinez. Mother of Luca, girlfriend of Diego.
Patroclus didn't fit anywhere into that picture, and it was affecting her normally cheerful demeanor.
More pacing. Pacing would help.
Patroclus knocked on the doorframe as he came into the room of their leased house. It was approximately naptime and the boys were all quiet upstairs. He cleared his throat and shuffled from one foot to the other. He couldn't help but look at her (feast his eyes on her) because, even though his (nearly ex-)wife in America had given birth to Mishka and Sasha, he had distinct memories of Hathor being pregnant with their children. With all three of them.
He sighed a little brokenly. "Hathor," he murmured.
Ciro promptly hopped from Hathor's arms at the knock, scrambling across the floor to escape the room. Before doing so, however, he managed a quick rub against Patroclus' shin. The woman in question angled her body toward the door, fingers moving to smooth out the folds in her dress. Though her gaze wasn't hesitant, there was something unspoken in them.
Wordlessly she crossed the floor over to him, soon reaching out to snatch a hand in her smaller ones. A kiss was pressed to his palm.
"I know. Don't say it, okay?'
He nodded. There was not much else he could do. He nodded and then reached for her and folded his arms around her and tried not to think about how familiar this felt, when he had no idea what lay ahead. He rested his chin on the top of her head, resolutely not thinking about how perfect this fit was.
"We - we have our boys," he started. "We- we'll be okay for as long as this lasts -"
"Do we know how long it'll last? We don't know," she murmured against his chest, snuggling into his warmth out of instinct. Oh, how could something wrong feel so nice? His warmth and the comfort he provided should've been against the law.
"It doesn't matter to me if only Luca is really mine. I carried each of them for months in my belly. I remember the little kicks, and all the rubs you gave. They're all my children."
His arms tightened around her. "We'll weather this. Whether it's a life or a week or whether we're thrown somewhere else in the next five minutes, I know that we chose each other. We did. We chose each other and we chose our children."
Patroclus smiled faintly. "I promised to keep you safe. I intend to keep that promise till you no longer need me to."
Both arms slipped around his middle, holding tightly. "You don't have to protect me all the time. Crazy mamas can always find a way to protect themselves," Hathor reasoned, smiling into his chest. After all, how could an Eye of Ra not be able to defend herself?