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birdie123au · 2 years

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hubris

hubris - excessive pride tending to lead to defiance toward the gods

Being a young servant girl of a disgraced priest meant that you were often ridiculed; forsaken by the gods. By a chance encounter with the crowned prince of Salamis, Ajax, you find yourself infatuated despite the concerns of your dearest disgraced father.

part one of five

// next

The scent of sea salt came with the breeze as it blew through the palace halls. The sound of leather sandals against the granite floor flooded your ears as you walked down the hallway side by side with your dearest friend, Rosaria. The two of you were tasked with carrying large buckets of chum to bring down the cliffside towards the beach. The older Rosaria held two buckets with you only held one. Instead, you opted to extend your left arm outwards to run across the textured pillars that adorned the halls. The sun shone bright, high in the sky. The hot weather in combination with the cool sea breeze of the palace made for a perfect summer day. The perfect day for you to complete all of your chores in a comfortable, timely manner before the king would call you and your fellow servants in for meal time.

You had been born into servitude, similar to most of the other girls in your age range, such as Rosaria. What had made you so different, however, was the fact that your father was once a high priest of the goddess Hebe, daughter of Zeus. He was a well respected man throughout the land of Salamis, a philanthropist, an honest man, and a defender of the people. Many thought that he would someday become the head priest of the entire church, though those thoughts were shattered the moment he had you.

The very night you were born, you were told your mother had died. Your father packed all of his belongings into one single bag, and made the expedition to the king's palace to swear his life to servitude. Once word had gotten out about your fathers actions, many people of Salamis were appalled. As a priest of Hebe, your father was never supposed to marry, let alone had a child. Rumors had spread that this was the doing of the gods, that your mother had been cursed to die in childbirth and that your father was forced to become a servant. Some say you were cursed as well, whispering appalling things behind your back and calling you names such as ‘bastard’ or ‘the cursed child’. Those who were especially religious would oftentimes avoid you all together, afraid that they too would anger the gods if they stood too close.

Despite the fact that many palace members, mainly the upperranked servants or warriors, would purposely bully and degrade you, there would still be lower ranked, dirt poor servants such as yourself willing to befriend you. One of these people was Rosaria, a girl about three years older than you who was the bastard daughter of a weaver, the result of her mothers affair. She had been sent to live at the palace when she was five years old, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since. Servants like Rosaria grew to appreciate your father and his naturally moral manner. He always gave wondrous advice on how to deal with difficult situations, and although he was no longer permitted to lead sermons in the palace church, he found ways around this rule. Every other Friday night when the warriors and high ranking officials and servants would be out enjoying a game, you and the lowly servants would meet behind the large, jagged rock on the eastern side of the cliff to listen to your father preach and tell stories of great heroes and their adventures.

Tonight was another even friday, which meant you and your fellow lowly servants were in especially high spirits about the nightfall, and with the perfect weather conditions the two of you could hardly believe your luck.

“Rosaria, did you hear that the prince, son of Telamon, will be one of the players in the ball game tonight?” You asked as the two of you approached the rocky stairs that would eventually lead you down the side of the cliff. Rosaria simply scoffed at your question, clearly not in the mood to engage with you in conversation. It was also no secret that she detested much of the royal family, despite the fact that King Telamon was a respected and honorable warrior.

Your father had always been on good terms with the king, who was willing to look past his scandals and welcome into the servitude ranks, knowing the effect on morale he held with the poorest of workers. You had only ever seen the king in passing, when you and Rosaria were tasked with transporting items around the palace. He was a strong, muscular man, whose most prominent features you noted to be his long auburn beard that matched the color of hair on his head. The way he spoke and fought with a stone cold expression surely would bring even the strongest of enemies to their knees , you thought.

“Did the head mistress tell you where we should put these buckets?” Rosaria huffed, clearly growing tired from carrying around not one, but two buckets packed to the brim with chum.

“Oh yes, she told me to carry the buckets past the rocks and playing field out towards the stables.” you replied earnestly.

“Couldn’t they have gotten some of the boys to do this work? Why are they making their female servants do all the heavy labor!” she angrily replied.

“Well that's because all of the boys are setting up the formal playing field at the otherside of the mansion at this hour.” you said, earning you another exaggerated groan from Rosaria.

Of the many servants of the palace, a majority of the time it was the boys who did the heavy labor and long trips across the manor. Though because of the fact that they needed to set up the field for the copious amounts of wealthy guests that would surely be arriving today, they were needed elsewhere. The head mistress couldn’t have spared even a single boy to help the two of you young girls out, afterall, the young female servants of the house were forbidden to interact with the male servants until they were at least fourteen. This rule was put in place for your own protection , the head mistress would always say, you wouldn’t want your future husband to know you used to hang around and do your daily chores with a bunch of boys, would you? She was most certainly right.

The sweat on the back of your neck made your hair stick to it making for a quite uncomfortable sensation as the two of you approached the end of the step pathway. The moment your feet hit the sand you exhaled a breath of relief; the hardest part of your journey was over. You and Rosaria took a moment to place down your buckets and catch your breath. Under most circumstances your taking of a break would result in punishment, though Rosaria reassured you it would be alright since your superiors were nowhere in sight. You enjoyed the way your hair felt as it blew along with the cool wind, helping to take some of the heat off your body.

The creak of the bucket handles was Rosaria’s sign to you to follow her head and pick up your buckets once more; “So, do you know what legend your father plans on telling tonight?”

Your ears perked up at the word ‘father’; “Oh no, father would never tell me in advance. He refuses to spoil the surprise!”

Rosaria simply laughed in return as the two of you continued walking forward to your destination.

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The everpresent seasalt wind viciously blows through your hair as you walk on the warm sand beneath your feet. You, of course, thoroughly enjoyed any amount of time you were permitted to walk along the palace beach, however, the way your hair vigorously blew into your face served as a great annoyance when you were trying to get your work done.

Rosaria seems to be having a similar issue. Though, unlike yourself, she did not have a free hand to brush away all of her hair that used to be in a ponytail away from her face. She instead opted to try to blow the hair away, but by the way she was huffing angrily you could tell her efforts were futile. You took this as your cue to inch closer towards her, tucking the loose strands behind her ears to the best of your abilities. The two of you walked in comfortable silence as you began to take note of the change in scenery all around you.

Before the only thing present from beside the long staircase on the rocky hill was simply the ocean. However, as the two of you walked towards where the front of the castle is at the top of the hill, you noticed an increase in greenery, playing fields, and marble statues of various gods attached to fountains. Despite the fact you were on the beach, the feeling of being in a lucious, green backyard never seemed to disappear when you were at the nicer parts of the palace. The parts of the balance where the nobles lived, worked, and played in.

“Ugh, I can’t do this anymore!” Rosaria angrily said, dropping the two buckets. As you turned your head to meet hers, you noticed she was staring at her hands. Two large blisters had begun to form where she was holding the wooden handles, no doubt she had splinters as well.

You began to panic as you realized you were now in a part of the palace in which head maids and servants lurked about. If any of them were in an especially bad mood and came across the two of you slacking off, you were sure you would be meeting the end of a stick that night.

“I shall carry them for you, Rosaria!” you said, childlike determination in your voice.

“Really?” she gave an annoyed reply, “You’re gonna carry all three buckets?”

She could tell she was teasing, though your face lit up lightly. How embarrassing. Rather than respond to her obvious gest of a question, you instead picked up one of her buckets and continued your walk forward.

“Well isn’t someone determined?” she smirked before grabbing the remaining bucket to follow after you.

“Oh look!” you suddenly said, “It’s the practicing field!”

You tried your best to point with one of the buckets, though you found it difficult to lift even a foot higher off the ground.

Amongst the columns decorated with green, there lay a large field full of sand with vertical hoops attached to the centermost columns. This place, known as the lesser field, served as a practice arena for all the young boys in the house, those who were training to be warriors. Currently, there were about twenty or so boys playing ball, some looked to be about your age, others either looked much older or younger.

“I wonder if Theo is playing right now!” you said.

Theo was a servant boy such as yourself. However, due to his innate talent at playing ball, and his natural large frame for a fourteen year old, he had been invited to practice with the rest of the wealthier boys. You wished you could ask him what his experience was like yourself, your father instead had to explain the various stories Theo would tell the other serving boys and their fathers. The stories you were forced to miss out on as you and the ladies learned how to weave properly in your spare time.

Although not all that interested, Rosaria stopped alongside you as the two of you attempted to view more of what was happening. You once more began to walk, only this time more towards the field. It was unfortunate timing, truly, or maybe an act of fate when a ball suddenly came hurling towards you. As you were in the process of walking, unable to stop yourself with such little notice, once the ball came in contact with your unbalanced legs it sent you flying forward.

Face in the sand with two painfully giant buckets of spilt chum all on your back, you heard the cries and laughs of boys coming from in front of you. Rosaria was at you side in an instant, despite the fact you swore you heard her chuckle the moment your face hit the sand. It didn;t take too much longer until the two of you were completely surrounded by the group of boys, who were all whispering and laughing amongst themselves. You had doubt they had ever been in this close of contact with servant girls such as yourselves.

“Woah man, you really hit her good!”

“Ew, what was she carrying?!”

“That’s so disgusting!”

The sounds of their mocks and questions overwhelmed you as Rosaria helped you up off your face. Although you were not that keen on crying in front of others, you felt that this moment would be a very justified time. Just as your eyelashes began to grow damp with tears, out of your peripheral vision you saw one of the guys, the one holding the ball that had just hit you, step forwards to meet where you sat.

“Are you alright?” he said, his voice an awkward combination of a laugh and a cringe. His shoulders were being held by two guys behind him, Rosaria’s hands grew tense. You recognized this boy immediately.

Telamon had four children, three sons and one daughter. The boy standing right in front of you was his oldest child, Ajax.

Ajax looked to be about your age, twelve or so. He was tall, but lanky, not quite yet old enough to develop any sort of noticeable muscles. His face was adorned with light orange freckles, most likely formed during the amount of time he had spent outside in the sun. His most striking feature of all, however, was his light ginger hair that illuminated under the light.

One of his arms rested rigid on the back of his neck, despite the smug grin he wore on his face, his inability to maintain eye contact with you was a sure sign that he was nervous. So this was who kicked the ball at your legs.

“Erm,” he made a noise at your lack of speech, “I’m sorry for…for hitting your legs.”

You only wished to cry more. What would father say? You panicked, unsure of how he would react to the entire situation you had gotten yourself into. You closed your eyes, simply wishing that you were elsewhere, somewhere where you weren't falling on your face and embarrassing yourself in front of a group of boys.

“Here, let me help you up.” Rosaria gasped as Ajax made his way towards you, handing the ball to one of the very amused boys observing his antics. You almost flew forward once more at the sheer force he used to pull at your arm.

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t know you would be that easy to pull up!” he smiled widely, his friends all laughing in response. You weren't sure if you wanted to burst out crying or slap him in the face. Maybe both.

“Oh, I know!” He said, “The ocean is right nearby! Allow me to take you there.”

“No! I mean uh, she can come with me…” Rosaria attempted to interject, getting shot back with laughs from the rest of the group. Making fun of her for daring to disobey the prince’s suggestion. Though you knew they had to know why she would suggest that in the first place.

Before she could open her mouth to reply, Ajax had once more taken your arm. He tugged less harshly this time, yet you had to admit it was difficult to keep up with him as the two of you ran off. Running along the sand was harder than you imagined, his and your feets picking up large amounts of sand whenever you tried to take a step. You tried to tell him to slow down, though you found it especially difficult considering you were yet to say a word to him.

–––––––––

“Ugh, this stuff smells real gross!” Ajax laughed, dunking you under the water once more. You were terrified, truly. Despite the fact the boy was only a few inches taller than you, he managed to have the strength to repeatedly pick you up and toss you into the water. You couldn’t even imagine how strange it must have looked from afar: the young prince trying to waterboard a young servant girl.

After ripping you out of the water once more, Ajax placed you harshly in the upright position. Your hair was soaking wet and you felt you had at least choked on a gallon of saltwater. As you took the moment to catch your breath, Ajax continued his berate of teasing; “I had no idea it was possible to look this much like a fish out of water! Don’t tell me you’ve never been swimming before.” He meant it as a jest, you assumed, but you couldn’t resist the urge to retaliate. To protect the little pride your father’s name had left. You lifted up your right leg before swinging it into the water in the direction of Ajax.

“Gah!” the prince cried, rubbing the salt water from his face. His expression quickly changed from that of pure shock to instead a mischievous glare. “Two can play at that game!”

Ajax took a swing at the water towards your direction, laughing as he did so. Perhaps challenging a boy who you had just witnessed playing ball was not the best of ideas, as the amount of water he flung at you sent you stumbling backwards, just in time for a large wave to knock you off your feet. Your body trashed under the water, you found it difficult to emerge back to the surface considering the wave sent you doing flips. It wasn’t until the ocean’s wrath settled down that you could finally stand upwards, falling back slightly as you felt a pair of hands secure your shoulders.

“I’m so sorry! No idea that wave was even coming, I promise!” the prince laughed, clearly not taking this situation as seriously as you desired.

“Gods…” you mumbled, spitting out the salt water that remained in your mouth. You were then hit by a horrible realization; “Oh no! My clothes…what will my father say?”

You had managed to destroy one of your only outfits. If you told your father, he would need to contact the head maids, and they would need to fetch you a new outfit to work in. This wouldn’t go unpunished either, you were very aware that no one would dare blame the prince for knocking you over. I’m gonna be on cleaning duty for the rest of my life! You lamented, angry at yourself for even trying to view the game in the first place. You knew you should have just done what you were told, afterall, look where misbehaving had left you…

“Oh, don’t worry!” Ajax replied, letting go of his grip on your shoulders, “I’m sure the sun will dry your clothes in time for supper!”

You gave a slight smile to him, though his words did little to sooth your worries; “Speaking of fathers. My name is Ajax, son of Telamon! Though I’m sure you already knew that. And you are?”

The boy flashed you his best prideful smile, putting his hands on his hips and shutting his eyes from dramatic effect. You resisted the urge to kick water at him once again. You finally introduce yourself formally, hand shake and all. Ajax seemed to take a special interest once you had revealed the name of your father.

“Wait, as in the old priest?” you nodded your head at his question, “Huh. I didn’t know his daughter was my age.”

The boy scratched his eyebrow as he processed all you had told him; “Father would sometimes mention him. I think the two of us were even formally introduced when I was little… That’s so awesome!”

The boy's attitude once again turned joyous. You were slightly put off by the level of enthusiasm he had when speaking with you.

“I think that’s super awesome that we met!” he said, “Where have you and your terrible balance been my whole life!”

You winced slightly as he playfully punched your arm. His jovial, carefree nature began rubbing off on you, as you soon found yourself laughing along with him; “What do you mean? I’ve obviously been dropping chum buckets the whole time. Can’t believe you didn’t notice sooner.”

The boy laughed even louder at your words, covering his freckle painted face with both of his hands as he attempted to calm himself down. He seemed to have a sudden realization as his laughter ceased with no warning.

“You’re coming to my game tonight, right?” he asked, eyes wide, “You are, surely?”

Your laughter halted at his question. You knew it would be rude to deny the prince, but you would surely be punished if one of the head maids had found you at such an event, surrounded by people well above your social standing.

“I’m sorry your highness, but I don’t think I’m allowed to go.” the boy opened his mouth to protest your words, you cut him off before he even began, “My father wouldn’t permit such a thing.”

Ajax knew better than to argue against the words of a father, so he reluctantly nodded his head as another wave crashed into the side of the two of your legs. The way his expression fell sort of made him look like a sad puppy. Though he swifty got over what was bothering him, shaking his head as his grin returned. He reached his hand out to grab your arm, guiding the two of you towards the shore.

“I get that! You probably have lots of important stuff to do.” he stopped as the two of them met the shore, turning his body to face you once again, “But promise me that you will come see one of my games soon. I’ll have one of my personal men talk to your dad myself!”

He held out his pinkie finger towards you; “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I’ll leave you for the flies. The heat will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the sand will burn your tongue so you never lie again.”

You bursted out laughing at the riddle he told you. Rosaria had taught it to you years prior, and the two of you had since declared it ridiculous. Ajax laughed along with you as your pinkies linked together.

Not long later, the young boy began his journey back to the ball field, giving you a small wave as he ran off to his friends. As you yourself made your way back to where you saw Rosaria in the distance, you found it hard to wipe the smile off your now warmed face.

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“Y/n? My child, is that you?”

You heard the familiar voice of your father ring from the corner of the small shed-like home the two of you shared. Made of wood yet sturdy as stone, you lay your hand against one of the walls by the entrance to take off your sandals. Rosaria stands next to you in the doorway, arms crossed as she continues to process the events that had just occurred.

“Yes father, Rosaria and I have come home.” you replied.

Hearing your fathers signature rumbly laugh, the two of you turn the corner to see him sitting under the light of the window. His hair tied back into a low ponytail, despite his young age numerous gray hairs painted his hair. For a man of 32 years, he was more akin to that of a 70 year old man. He was reading another one of his scribes. The servants of the palace had always admired your fathers ability to read, a talent that you yourself barely possessed, while the majority of the servants were completely literate. You shudder slightly as you are met with flashbacks to when you were younger, sitting on the chair underneath that same window being scolded by your father for mispronouncing the alphabet. You were proud of how far your reading had come, especially considering the fact you were a girl.

“Welcome home, my girls.” he begins, “I do hope you finished your tasks in a timely manner today.”

Rosaria takes the seat opposite to your father, sighing in relief after being able to sit down for the first time in hours. You walked over to your fathers side, quickly trying to glance to see if you could recognize which story he was reading. Unfortunately for you, due to your fathers position, his arm was covering the majority of the text. Planting a kiss on his cheek, you notice your father’s body language change completely.

“Is that salt water I smell?” he asks calmly, “Oh my child, don’t tell me you evaded your work to go swim in the ocean.”

“Oh no!” you shifty retort, eager to clarify the meaning of this, though you found yourself stumbling over your own words “I had a little accident. One of the boys…he well– um hit my leg an-and I spilt the chum and then we–”

“The boys?” your father accused, “What could have possessed you to hang around those–”

“No father! We were quite far away, it was a ball that hit my legs!”

Your father’s gaze softened ever so slightly; “Whose ball? Must I tell the headmistress about this?”

“Please don’t father. It was the prince’s kick that hit me.”

You realized quickly the mistake you had made judging by the way your fathers eyes opened wide, his mouth falling open in shock.

“The prince?” he asked angrily, “You fool! Don’t you know what kind of reputation you will have seeing as you have made a mess of yourself in front of the heir to the throne? Is he the one who helped you swim?!”

As he continued his lecture, his voice grew angrier. Your father had only ever wanted to protect you, as he was very aware of the foul reputation you already had due to his own wrongdoings. He couldn’t bear to watch you in pain anymore, even if his methods of expressing his disapproval were often harsh.

Before you could respond to his accusations, he cut you off; “Rosaria? Did you know about this?”

You looked over to your equally surprised friend. She clearly did not anticipate this foul reaction from the man who treated her like his own; a man who would do anything for his daughters.

“No–well, yes sir. But it wasn’t Y/n’s fault! The prince knocked her over, mocked us, and then nearly drowned her in the water!”

“Drowned!” your father yelled.

He looked towards you for confirmation. You reluctantly nodded your head, gazing to the floor rather than trying to meet his eyes. “Y/n, my child. Promise me. Promise me you will not become too attached to this boy.”

You looked at him, confused as to why he would think such a thing. His expression grew quite painful, it was obvious he knew something more about the implications of your interaction with Prince Ajax, though you weren't quite sure how or what he knew.

“Father…” you replied, “I don’t understand.”

“Then tonight, I will make sure you will.”

Your father’s bold declaration was accompanied by his swifty standing up and reaching for his cane left on the side of his chair. You and Rosaria both were quick by his side, offering to help him go wherever he needed to. He motioned the two of you away, claiming he needed to go on a walk of his own, as he needed to rethink his entire lecture for the night.

Munching on the stale bread your father must have grabbed more from the kitchen after the conclusion of his work day, you and Rosaria sat in silence as you nervously imagined what he could have possibly meant by his words. Perhaps you would try to ask him once he returned, perhaps he would be unwilling to communicate with you entirely. Regardless, you knew it must be a very serious matter.

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The small bonfire lit by one of the older serving men lit up the dark knight sky. The stars seemed to be hiding behind the clouds, something unusual for the island you all lived on. You and dozens of poor servants sat gathered around the fire, while your father had taken a stand in front of everyone. Propped up against his cane as well as one of the youngest boys, years younger than you, your father prepared his sermon for the night.

“Daedalus was a genius man.” your father began.

“Born with the hands of a sculptor, he created pieces of ceramic so fine that even the most perceptive of men could not distinguish them from real humans. The inventor of our beloved bath houses, dance floors, and wooden dolls. Daedalus could create it all.”

A few excited murmurs from the crowd arose as your father began his story; “Daedalus was so wonderful, that many said he stretched human limitations created by the divine.”

Limitations created by the divine. In Greece, mortals were mortals, and the gods were gods, there was no circumstance in which those lines were to be crossed. “Much like all good things, an equal yet opposite reaction occurred. Daedalus was an egotistical, stubborn, hubris ridden man.”

“Driven by madness to be the greatest creator, he soaked his hands in the blood of his own uncle. He was forsaken from Athens, city of scholars, and forced into the Kingdom ruled by King Minos.”

A few gasps could be heard from the crowd, you and Rosaria's hands gripped tighter in anticipation; “King Minos’s foolish wife was cursed by the God of Sea and Earthquakes, our own Posiedon.”

“The shameless woman fell in love with a bull. With the help of the cocky Daedalus, she was able to conceive a child, the Minotar, with the bull through the use of a prosthetic cow costume.”

Disgusted whispers filled the audience, condemning both Daedalus and the foolish wife. “King Minos did not stand for this. After demanding Daedalus to construct an inescapable Labrinth, he was locked away along with his only son, Icarus.”

“However, this did little to stop Daedalus.” your father’s gaze darkened, “Using wax from a candle and the loose feathers of a bird, Daedalus constructed wings for both him and his son. Together, the two flew into the sky.”

“Unfortunately, Icarus too was a fool to the power of hubris. Ignoring his fathers commands to be weary of flying too close to the ocean or two close to the son, Icarus was overwhelmed by the power he felt when being able to fly.”

Your father took a pause, “The wax on the wings melted, and Daedalus could only watch in terror as his sun was struck down from the sky.”

“Afterall, the only creatures who could fly besides birds…” your father looked directly into your eyes, “are gods.”

At the conclusion of his story, the crowd erupted into cheers and riveted discussion of your fathers magnificent story telling. As you and Rosaria discussed what you had heard, you felt the warning gaze of your fathers eyes on the back of your head.

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As you lay in the bed you and your father were both forced to share due to the size of your home, you found yourself struggling to sleep after all that had happened in just twelve hours.

The moral of the story that your father expressed through his sermon was clear to you, though you failed to stay focused as thoughts of the red-haired prince clouded your mind. You found yourself infatuated by your interactions, replaying each individual word the two of you exchanged.

Eventually, you began drifting off to sleep, hoping only that the prince had too been thinking of you…

#tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #rosaria genshin impact #tartaglia genshin impact #greek gods #tragedy #angst with a happy ending #genshin angst #time skip #growing up together #prince ajax #poor reader #daddy issues #misoginy #duh its ancient greece

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2nd2ndalto · 7 months

Text

Fall Down With You

Chapter 9

(previous chapter)

Here is the last section! I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

___

“Well, hello there,” Will says to his husband, trying for flirty.

Nico gives him a half-smile from where he’s already stretched out in bed. Will finishes towel-drying his hair as best he can and tosses the towel onto the back of the desk chair before throwing himself down onto the bed beside the other man. Nico wiggles over to make room.

It’s always a little strange being back in this cabin, in this double bed, but it’s gotten less strange over the summers as they’ve made more new memories here. They live in New Rome now for most of the year. The kids attend school there and train at Camp Jupiter. Most years, all four of them travel here to Camp Half-Blood for the summer. For teaching and training, but also for keeping up old friendships, and beginning new ones. It’s the third week in June now, with new and old campers arriving daily.

Will watches his husband, who’s gazing pensively at the ceiling. He presses a kiss to Nico’s bare shoulder, then slowly drags a fingertip along his collarbone. Nico doesn’t react.

Raising himself onto an elbow, Will presses soft kisses to Nico’s chest, trailing slowly down his ribs towards his stomach. He feels Nico’s hand come to rest gently on his head. Will rests his head on Nico’s stomach, looking up at his husband. Nico still has his gaze trained on the ceiling, eyes unfocused.

Will sits up. “I’m sensing that my attempts to seduce you are going unappreciated,” he tells the other man.

Nico smiles, finally looking at him. “Sorry.” He shakes his head. “Try again. I’ll appreciate you this time.”

Will rolls his eyes and flops back down onto the bed, his head next to Nico’s. “What’s wrong?”

Nico shrugs. “It’s stupid.”

“Mmm.” Will nuzzles into Nico’s hair. “I wanna know anyway.”

Nico reaches for Will’s hand and then he’s quiet for a long moment, playing with Will’s fingers.

“I miss the kids,” he mumbles, finally.

“Ah. That’s not stupid,” Will says.

This is the first year they haven’t all stayed in the Hades cabin together for the summer. The place does feel a bit empty with just the two of them in here. Emmett is in the Apollo cabin, Nora staying with friends in the Demeter cabin.

“Nora didn’t even want to sit with us at dinner,” Nico says sadly.

“Well,” Will considers, “she’s got her own friends now. That’s what we want for her, right?”

Nico shrugs.

“She eats dinner with us every evening, all year, Nico. She hasn’t seen most of those kids since last summer,” Will says gently.

Truthfully, Emmett and Nora probably spend more time with their parents than many of their peers do. Both Nico and Will grew up feeling a distinct lack of parenting, and Will occasionally wonders if they’ve veered too far in the other direction with their own children. He may have teasingly accused Nico of being a helicopter parent on more than one occasion. Emmett and Nora are happy kids, though. Healthy and well-adjusted. So he and Nico must be doing something right.

“Yeah, I guess,” Nico allows.

“Emmett ate with us,” Will offers.

Nico huffs. “I think that was only because Percy and his kids were sitting there. I’m pretty sure he has a crush on Olivia,”

“Oh, really?” Will considers that. Olivia is Percy’s middle daughter. Percy and his older two children had arrived earlier today.

“Pff. Stupid teenagers,” Will says.

That gets a smile out of Nico. He sighs. “I know this is what’s supposed to happen. I do want them to have their own lives.” He glances at Will. “I guess I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.”

It’s not really that soon, honestly. Nora is sixteen now, and Emmett will be fourteen later this summer. At that age, Will and Nico had obligations far beyond their years and barely saw their parents at all. Not that their godly parents ever did a lot of parenting to begin with.

“It’s good for them to have their own space,” Will says gently. “And they’re practically right next door, anyway. Emmett and I will be in the infirmary together most of the day tomorrow. Isn’t Nora teaching with you all morning?”

“Yeah,” Nico says glumly.

“You still have me,” Will says sweetly. “I’ll keep sitting with you at dinner.”

Nico smiles, rolling onto his side to face his husband. “You better.”

He pulls Will in then, kissing him soft, gentle, then deeper, breathless, sighing into his mouth as they lose themselves in the familiar comfort of each other’s touch.

Nico’s head rests on Will’s chest afterwards, his fingers tracing slow trails up and down Will’s ribs.

Will twitches. “That tickles,” he murmurs, reaching for Nico’s hand.

“Sorry.”

“Remember when we used to do this, when we were teenagers?” Will asks softly.

“What, lie in my bed together?”

“Yeah. And.. other stuff.”

Nico laughs. “Of course. I remember everything.”

“What do you remember?” Will asks. He’s not sure what he means exactly, except that he craves the sound of Nico’s soft, low voice washing over him as he drifts closer to sleep.

“Hmm,” Nico considers, the sound a warm rumble in his throat, and Will smiles, letting his eyes fall shut.

“I remember you and Cecil holding me hostage and forcing me to watch every single fucking Star Wars movie. And all the DVD extras. At least twice.”

Will laughs. “We absolutely did not force you. If I recall correctly, you were a very willing participant.”

Nico snorts. “I basically had no choice. I had a stupidly huge crush on one of you.”

“Oh, one of us, really.” Will pokes Nico in the side.

“Yeah, can’t quite recall which one.”

Will snorts, giving Nico a gentle shove and releasing his hold on his husband, stretching from his fingertips to his toes. Nico raises himself onto an elbow, his eyes following the movement. He moves quick as a cat, tickling Will’s waist. Will squeaks, grabbing Nico’s hands.

A brief moment of tussling and laughter later and they’re cuddled up against each other again, on their sides and curled towards each other in the small bed.

“Do you remember when you decided you wanted to learn archery?” Will asks, a smile tugging at his lips.

Nico scrubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, I have the scars to remind me of that one. Again, stupidly huge crush, okay? I was helpless to fight it.”

“Two nights in the infirmary,” Will laughs, his gaze gentle on his husband’s face.

Nico snorts. “Only because I assumed you were able to use a bow and arrow somewhat proficiently and that you’d be able to teach me.”

The memories well up like clear bubbling spring water, and nearly an hour passes that way, full of laughter, names of close friends and friends nearly forgotten, of all the moments that make up a lifetime.

The conversation ebbs and they lie in silence for a while, hand in hand in the narrow bed where they first kissed.

“You know we’re not done making memories yet. Not with the kids and definitely not with each other,” Will says, bringing Nico’s hand to his lips.

“I know,” Nico says softly. He turns his head to meet Will’s eyes. The dark-haired man looks content and relaxed. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“Any time.” Will leans in to press a kiss to his husband’s lips and Nico hums contentedly. He untangles their hands, tracing a finger down Will’s cheek. Will’s eyes drift closed.

“Okay if I open the windows?” Nico asks after a long moment.

“Mmm. Good idea. It’s probably starting to cool off,” Will agrees.

Nico raises himself to his knees, leaning over Will to open the window above the bed, then crossing the cabin to slide the other windows open. Nico stops to dig on their luggage on the way back to the bed. He holds up a pair of Will’s flannel pants, eyebrows raised. Will extends an arm, wiggling his fingers, and Nico tosses the pants over.

The pajamas are probably a good idea. The cabin can get quite cool at night, and Will relishes the thought of being curled up in this narrow bed under a heap of blankets with his favourite person in the world like he’s done so very many times before.

The evening air is just starting to cool pleasantly after the heat of the day, and it drifts in through the windows, bringing with it a scent of pine and spruce, and the distant sounds of chatter and laughter from the campfire.

“I call little spoon,” Nico announces, climbing back into bed.

“Ugh, fine,” Will rolls his eyes, trying and failing to sound harassed. Nico snuggles up against him until there’s no space between them. Will can’t say he minds. He sighs, sliding a hand under Nico’s shirt, holding him snug around his waist. Despite the fact that the kids are quite literally within shouting distance, this is the furthest they’ve slept from them in quite a while. Will finds he isn’t entirely opposed to the idea, nor the privacy it affords them.

He nuzzles into his husband’s neck, smiling at the soft, pleased sound Nico makes in response. He lets the hand under Nico’s shirt wander, fingers trailing, fabric shifting. Then just a bit lower. Just… testing the waters.

Nico hums. “Again?” he asks, and Will can hear the laughter in his voice.

Will’s hand stills, his fingers splayed flat on Nico’s stomach. “Well. Not if you don’t want to,” he murmurs. He presses a kiss to the base of Nico’s neck. An apology, or a persuasion.

“I didn’t say that.” Nico wiggles backwards a little and Will takes a breath in, soft and sharp.

And then the cabin door flies open.

“Hey, dads!”

It’s Nora, with Emmett clattering up the stairs behind her, and Will yanks back his hand as if he’s been burned, immediately sitting up. Nico’s a bit slower to react, turning and stretching, then sitting up to rub his eyes. He’s always been better at playing it cool, Will thinks.

“Are you guys sleeping already?” Emmett asks, incredulous. His voice sounds hoarse, as if he’s spent the last two hours singing and talking loudly with his friends. Which he probably has.

Nora rolls her eyes. “They’re old, Emmett.”

Will snorts. “Commentary on our advanced age aside, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“We wanted to say goodnight!” Nora says, sounding hurt. “We looked all over for you guys at the campfire, but you’d left without even telling us.” She levels a frown at each of her fathers in turn.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Will says, standing to wrap his daughter in a hug. “We didn’t think you’d miss us. You seemed busy with your friends.”

Nora huffs, wrapping her arms around Will and not letting go. In his periphery, Will sees his son flop onto the bed nearest the door, and he privately hopes Emmett hasn’t already decided to move back in.

Nico stands, stretching, and Nora pulls him into a hug too, squeezing the two men together.

“Sorry, sweetie. We’ll let you know when we’re leaving next time,” Nico tells her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

“Good,” Nora says, sounding satisfied. She releases her fathers. Then, looking more hesitant, she turns to Nico. “Papa, I actually wanted to talk over the lesson plan for tomorrow again…”

“Oh!” Nico says, surprised. “Nora, you’ve got that down pat, though. You’re going to do great. Or - would you prefer it if I took the lead, tomorrow?”

Will privately adores watching Nico trying to navigate the kids’ worries and moods, especially Nora, who tends to bury her feelings more deeply. Nico’s always desperate to understand, to say the right thing, even when he’s not immediately sure what that might be.

Nora chews her lip. “No… I don’t want you to take the lead. I just… I’d feel better if we could talk it through. Again.”

Nico nods. “Sure, of course we can. Dad and I are heading to bed now, but… breakfast? Or -” he glances at Will, maybe remembering their earlier conversation. “Or if you want to eat with your friends, we’ll still have time to talk things through afterwards,” he quickly amends.

Nora nods, looking more sure. “Yeah, okay. Breakfast. Is that all right?”

Nico visibly relaxes. “Of course. Come get me in the morning. You know where I’ll be.” Nico pulls his daughter in for another hug.

“Come on Em. Bedtime,” Nora says, kicking the bed frame where her brother is collapsed, long legs hanging off the side of the bed.

“Fine.” Emmett rolls his eyes, rising and squeezing each of his fathers in a perfunctory hug. He’s taller than Nico now, nearly as tall as Will, all long gangly limbs and overgrown blond hair.

“Hey, wait,” Will frowns, grabbing his son’s hand as the boy pulls away. “Are you - how are you injured already?” he asks, incredulous. “We just got here!” Will can’t see where the injury is, but he can feel it - a cut or a slash, not too deep, healed adequately, if somewhat inexpertly.

“Oh,” Emmett’s gaze dips. “No, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Nora rolls her eyes. “He and Olivia were sparring. Emmett was showing off.”

Emmett gives his sister a light shove. “Was not.”

Will shakes his head. “Who healed you?”

“Oh. Brandon. Um. Eileithyia kid.” At this, Emmett’s face goes pink, and he calls out a farewell, quickly leaving the cabin behind his sister.

Will blinks at Nico. “Brandon?”

Nico shrugs. “Brandon.”

Will shakes his head. “Huh.”

“That was nice,” Nico says, once they’ve tucked themselves into bed again.

“Hmm?”

“That the kids came to say goodnight.”

“Oh. Yeah, it was,” Will smiles. “Kinda glad they didn’t show up earlier. Or um. Later.”

Nico blinks, then his eyes widen. “Oh gods.”

Will grimaces. “Might have to remind them about door-knocking etiquette.”

“Jesus.” Nico scrubs his hands over his face. “Did you lock the door this time?”

Will huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

The cabin is quiet again, the distant noises of other campers heading to bed slowly fading as well. The cool breeze drifts in through the windows, the gentle rustle of leaves just audible. Will thinks he might feel more relaxed in this moment than he has in the entire previous year.

“Hey, you know what?” he says to his husband. “I’m gonna read to you.”

Nico smiles. “Sure. That sounds nice.” He stretches, folding a pillow under his head and making himself comfortable as Will heads to the bookcase. “Are you gonna read me Captain Underpants?”

Will snorts. “Hopefully not…”

The shelves are mostly filled with the kids’ books - stories they’ve read at bedtime during other family summers here in Cabin Thirteen. But after a minute Will finds what he’s looking for, and he returns to the bed, flicking on the lamp and holding up his selection.

A slow smile spreads over Nico’s face. “Yeah. Okay,” he says softly.

Will shoves an extra pillow under his head and Nico snuggles closer, his breath warm on Will’s shoulder.

“You gonna do the voices?” Nico asks, sounding sleepy.

“Maybe. If you play your cards right.”

Nico smiles.

“Chapter One,” Will begins, “An Unexpected Party.”

The dark-haired man at his side is fast asleep only a few pages in. Will carefully places the book facedown on the nightstand, shifting slightly to watch his sleeping husband. It’s always a little emotional, being back here, back where it all began. But amid the floods of memories, both good and bad, there’s contentment, and home. Home in these friends, this world, this man next to him. It’s here that they met, grew up together, here that Will fell in love with this beautiful human, over and over again. He blinks against the wetness collecting in his eyes. Will presses a kiss to Nico’s forehead. He turns out the light.

___

This is the end! I got very emotional writing this section, for some reason. Weirdly, I was writing this part at the same time as I wrote the first section. I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOUR HONOUR. Comments are, of course, very much appreciated.

#nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #my writing #fluff #rated teen #pjo #growing up together

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sweetcici-123 · 2 years

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The Good King’s Daughter(s)

An alternate universe where the Evil Queen is actually a really caring person and is a great mom, but she still gets framed and locked away. Of course that leaves the Good King as a single father of two, and with everyone believing Raven is just as evil as her mom, it adds a bit of distance between the sisters since Valor is only acknowledged as the Good King's daughter to the rest of the world, the same way Raven is only the Evil Queen's daughter. (Similar to how people view Cerise and Ramona as having separate destinies and parents)

(Valor is adopted at a really young age and her and Raven grow up really close, the distance wouldn’t start until they’re older)

P.S. The Evil Queen and The Good King will have real names, Mirror Queen and Bravery King, though they would probably only go by them at home.

#ever after high #eah #ever after high fanfic #eah fanfic #raven queen #the evil queen #the good king #valor king #adopted daughter #adopted sisters #family fluff #eah au #ever after high oc #eah oc #growing up together #madeline hatter #eah ocs

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chuuyajacksonsfedora · 1 year

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College AU Prompt

Character A: Moving to another country

Character B: Forced to stay in (country) and be without character a/the person he grew up with and grew to love.

The two lovers sat together on a lone bench in the rain. Behind the gray clouds laid a red sunset sky that faded to black. It was as if the dark overbearing clouds were looming over the earth masking anger with sorrow.

Rain poured down on the couple. So many things they both wanted to say, so many things left undone. They both knew that this would be their last moments spent together. Deep in the night, all that could be heard was the heavy patter of rain as it beat down on them like a burden.

" I'm really going to miss you," Character A spoke with a sad and forgotten tone of voice. So sad and filled with emotion that he almost sounded far away.

Character A sat in Character B's lap with his head laid on Character B's chest as Character B had his arms wrapped around Character A, one around his shoulders and the other around his waist.

" I wish 'missing you' was the only emotion to describe how I'll feel with you gone." Character B sighed. He was trying his best not to cry.

Oh, how he was trying. Despite his efforts tears began to roll down his face.

" Don't cry for me, (nickname)." Character A laughed sadly as he wiped away tears.

" Then what else can I do for you?" Character B asked as he continued to cry.

" Kiss me. That's what you can do." Character A suggested.

Without another word Character B cupped his soulmates face and kissed him lovingly.

As the night faded to mid-morning the partners went back to their respective homes knowing all to well that neither of them would be seeing each other for a very long time.

Little did they know that they would soon meet again when they enroll into the same college.

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fic-ive-read · 1 year

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Link To The Fic

#derek hale #stiles stilinski #talia hale #claudia stilinski #sheriff stilinski #the hale family #original characters #everyone lives #alive hale family #alive claudia stilinski #werewolves are known #magical stiles stilinski #spark stiles stilinski #growing up together #pre-slash #sterek #derek hale/stiles stilinski

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 5 months

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Would you happen to have any fics where the rest of the gang are the same aged up to be the same age as Derek? Not because of like a spell or whatever, like a fic where they were all born at the same time so they’re all grown up together.

Growing up together! Yeah I got you.

take me back by matildajones

(1/1 I 2,167 I Teen I Sterek)

“I dare you to kiss me,” Stiles taunts, and he’s not expecting the way Derek says a naughty word under his breath and then leans forward.

Stiles yelps. He just dodges Derek’s mouth before he’s laughing wildly and running through the trees, calling out a series of ew ew ew as Derek chases him back home.

A childhood friends to lovers AU.

Kick by Unloyal_Olio

(1/1 I 6,616 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek is still trying to figure out what to do about this when a woman's frantic voice comes down the aisle. "Baby, baby, baby—no kick. I’m so sorry. It’s a thing lately." She waggles a finger at her son. "We don’t kick."

Faux Pas and Fumbles (Love You Anyways) by orphan_account

(1/1 I 19,444 I Explicit I Sterek)

But, even if Derek grew some balls and finally made a move, and him and Stiles actually got together, Derek wouldn't be fucking Stiles up the ass.

He means he could if Stiles really wanted him to, but Derek doubts it would be all that pleasurable for him.

Because Stiles might be a boy from the torso up.

But downwards he's female.

Also known as the friends to lovers high school au that features Stiles magically having female reproductive organs due to Spark Magic, yet still being a guy

Growing Up With You by WhereAreTheBreaks

(18/18 I 22,716 I Teen I Sterek)

It all started with a strange scent in the grocery store, and now Derek can't imagine his life without the hyperactive little shit that is Stiles Stilinski. He didn't know why he always felt the need to be close to the boy but his mom's knowing looks certainly weren't helping.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #growing up together #kid fic #anon

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enienah · 2 years

Photo

(reuploaded) +bonus doodle for all of you, hardcore shippers out there (pointing in the mirror). GOT reference.

#growing up together #miphlink #linkmipha #link x mipha #hylian mipha #human mipha #mipha #mipha botw #link #botw link #got reference

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strawbubbysugar · 7 months

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Bethroned Chapter 2

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therealbyler · 8 months

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What I love the most about byler is the fact that it would cause Mike and Will to be the most adorable set of brothers.

#imagine all the fun they'd get up to #growing up together #byler #byler is real #byler is endgame #byler fandom #byler s5

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hp-shippy-prompts · 9 months

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Prompt:

Tom and Harry grow up together, though Tom is a year older. Tom goes to Hogwarts, and Harry joins him the next year, so Tom takes him to Diagon Alley to by his school supplies. As well as buying school robes, Tom gets Harry to buy lacy and silky nightdresses, claiming they’re part of the uniform, to be worn under his robes (or whenever it takes Tom’s fancy).

#prompt #harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #same era #growing up together #pretty underthings

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birdie123au · 2 years

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zelus

zelus - the personification of jealousy in predominantly situations of romance

After several years of strong friendship with Ajax, you find yourself unable to contain your jealousy as he begins courting a rich beauty from another kingdom. Heartbroken yet angered, you wonder if befriending him was the right decision in the first place.

part two of five

prev // next

The large marble room was filled with bustling life. Men and women dressed in the finest of silk lounging, dancing, chatting, and drinking wine. The king was at the center of it all, gracious speaking along with his dignitaries as they discussed philosophy and politics. Those surrounding him threw their heads back in exaggerated laughter. Servants flooded the room with trays of drinks and snacks in hand. The rich guests were less than kind when receiving their food and drink, though the servants were not phased. Ever since you had turned sixteen just a few months ago, you had learned what a charmer the king truly was.

The head mistress of your servant ward still had a fiery dislike of you, something that you remembered of her since you were a small child. Constantly mocking you for not being betrothed to anyone, she assigned you with the task of pouring the king’s wine during each of his luxurious parties, a task that was historically assigned only to men. It was always humiliating, standing in front of a wealthy crowd as an unbetroved young girl. It sometimes felt to be even dangerous; you were never quite able to shake the alarming glances some of the older men at the party would give you as you walked by. Most nights you would go crying to your father, expressing how much you dreaded going to your job each night, how the people you mock and oggle. Your father’s opinion remained firm, in life the gods would constantly challenge people like you, and that you simply needed to rise above the occasion and prove the foolish mortals wrong. When you were younger you would always appreciate your fathers infinite philosophical and spiritual understanding of situations, though now that you are older you longed for him to say something more comforting.

Objectively the worst part of your job however, the thing that made you sob into your pillow each night, was that everyday you had to be with Ajax. Whenever you spoke of this with Rosaria, she would simply call you crazy. I am crazy, you thought. Ajax had been one of your closest friends for years. Although it was forbidden, ever since the two of you had met Ajax had taken the time to sneak around the palace to visit you when he was certainly not supposed to. From seeing you tending to the garden, weaving, scrubbing the floors, to serving wine, he saw it all. If any of his friends asked, you were his closest companion. He felt as if the two of you were opposites, yet understood each other better than anyone else. You would have believed him, agreed even if asked, until he met Domitia.

Domitia was a princess from a nearby kingdom, only a year younger than the two of you. She was a very pretty girl, with long dark locks and beautiful brown eyes. She was a natural charmer, and a smart one at that. She knew multiple languages, how to weave, play the lyre, and prayed to the gods often. She came from money, but was not spoiled nor egotistical. Despite the fact that she was younger, she spoke wisely as if she were years older than she was. You had never spoken to the girl, and yet you knew all of this information regardless.

The first time Ajax had mentioned Domitia was when you were fifteen. At first, you didn’t think too much of it, convinced he simply had a small infatuation for her. You were swiftly humbled when he began mentioning her in almost every conversation you had. It was then it became clear to you: he was in love with her. From the way he described it, it seemed she shared those feelings. He would often tell you how the two of them snuck away together almost every time their two families met. You tried not to let it bother you. Of course he would be in love with a woman like her. She was smart, funny, and rich. The latter being of utmost importance when it comes to marriage. You started growing frustrated hearing of their outings and gifts exchanged. But what really broke your heart was when he told you of how he brought her to the ocean and kissed her for the first time. He then said that's where the two of them go each time they sneak off.

The ocean was where the two of you met. Where the two of you used to sneak off to see each other. Where he used to tell you stories, sneak you food, small gifts, anything you could think of. You had to resist the urge to punch him in the face from the way he so casually mentioned this to you. Yet, the way he smiled brightly and his cheeks blushed made you instead turn your heels and walk away, saying you had work to do. He simply said his goodbyes, saying you could talk about this later. That was over a week ago, and you had been doing everything in your power to avoid him since then. It was an impossible task, considering he attended each of his fathers parties, so you instead stopped sneaking off to your meeting places during work.

You began to put much more effort into your work, the headmistress even noticing your change in work ethic. All of your pain, heartache, and jealousy became channeled into your daily tasks, meaning that you found yourself with far more extra free time because of finishing your work extra earlier. A few weeks ago, your first instinct would have been to run and find Ajax, but instead you spent the remainder of the time with your father.

Shaking your head, you quickly refocused on the task at hand: serving wine. One of the king’s men had called out to you, beckoning you to come over and refill their glass. You did so with grace, bowing your head to the men before pouring the wine into their cup. You kept your head down as a sign of respect for the king, he didn’t seem to notice you were even there. You were a poor servant, you were nothing more than a body that could do work in the eyes of the king.

As you made your way back to the center of the room, you felt a pair of eyes on your back. You initially froze, praying to the gods that it wasn’t another creep trying to make a move on you. Much to your dismay, the person who tapped your back was much worse. Beautiful blue eyes and soft ginger hair entered your peripheral vision. Ajax, you lamented. The young man was smiling, seemingly proud that he had found you in the sea of people. He would often joke that he knew it was you due to your incredible posture and strong pouring arm that made you so easy to identify. You would laugh along with him, saying it was his golden headpiece that made him an easy target.

Instead, you reluctantly turn to him, a small scowl on your face; “Prince Ajax, can I help you?”

“What on Earth?” Ajax laughed at your formal words, “I've been looking for you all week! You’ve been standing me up at all our meeting spots you know.”

“Oh, sorry.” you said, looking towards the floor to avoid eye contact, ‘I’ve been busy.”

“Hah, no worries, I get it!” he smiled at you, your heart fluttered, “Rumors tell me you’ve been working extra hard. I mean, that’s great!”

“Thank you, your highness.” you replied.

“Keep it up and we will totally have more time to hang out with each other!” he whispered excitedly.

You felt the urge to both smile and break out into tears at the same time. What he said is the exact opposite of what you wanted; “Sorry, I…”

His smile faltered, he was growing confused; “I don’t think that's…well, I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Oh.” he replied, “Well, that’s no problem girlie. I get it, you’re super busy.”

The atmosphere grew awkward, no one quite knowing what to say; “Um, we’ll still see each other though, right?”

“I work here.” you said, he bursted out laughing.

“Yeah, you’re right!” he nudged you with his elbow, you still weren't laughing. “I’ll see you around then, Y/n.”

You wanted to throw yourself down the palace staircase because of how embarrassed you were. Talking to Ajax was normally easy for you, but this time you were resisting your own tears the whole conversation. Nevertheless, the night went on. You continued to fill the wine glass of all the powerful people in the room. You overheard a plethora of conversations on advanced topics you could hardly understand, yet it kept you entertained as you continued your work.

Towards the very end of the celebration, the servants working the food and drink shift began to pack up, ready for the servants who cleaned to replace them. As you put on your overcoat of thin wool to make the journey across the castle and down the staircase to get home, your eyes wandered to the corridor. The sight before you nearly made you vomit.

It was Ajax and Domitia, laughing with one another, probably at another one of his stupid jokes. The way each of them looked at each other was different than how he ever looked at you. It was full of admiration, infatuation, love. He eventually took her hand, before glancing around to see if any adults would notice. As the princess stared out the door, his eyes landed upon you. You weren't sure what your face looked like, but from the way his eyes widened strangely, you were certain it didn't look normal. After a moment, he relaxed, giving you a smug smile before lifting up a finger in front of his mouth. Hush. Angry and tired, you weren't in the mood to be nice. It was your own fault in a way, pushing him away earlier in the evening. Maybe losing your friendship with him would be for the better, afterall, if the two were to be married you were certain he would stop talking to you completely.

So instead of smiling back at him as you usually do, you intentionally took a moment to gaze at the two of their hands joined together before making direct eye contact with him once more. You angrily narrowed your eyes at him, attempting to make the most disgusted look you could, and turning your heel with no explanation. He probably wouldn't care, you thought to yourself, afterall he was with his Domitia now. Only once you were sure you were out of his sight did you begin to softly cry into the long sleeve of your overcoat.

–––––––––

“I just hate it so much!” you sobbed into Rosaria’s arm, “I can’t believe the mistress is still making me work there.”

Rosaria racked her hand through your hair comfortingly before clearing her throat; “I’m sorry, Y/n. I’m sure it will be alright, the headmistress can’t make you do this forever.”

Of the people who had changed the most over these past couple of years, it would most certainly had been Rosaria. Although she had always been standoffish and cold, as a now eighteen year old she had matured into a wise young woman. Instead of taking a traditional path, she instead boldly declared that she would follow in the path of your father. Becoming a priestess was something you would have never expected of her, though once you saw her train and preach about the wise Lady Athena, you knew that this was always what she was meant to do.

“Rosaria?” your father called out, he had been uncharacteristically quiet, “It's getting quite late. I’m sure you have to work early in the morning. Would you mind leaving us be?”

The young woman nodded, getting up from your single bed to bid her farewells and take her leave. You looked over at your father, confused on why he had asked her to leave so soon. He turned to you, his tired eyes having no hint of anger or sadness in them. Instead, he used his cane to walk towards you, sitting down on the bed with a humph.

“Y/n, my child.” he began, looking you in the eyes, “Would you tell me the real reason this job is troubling you?”

Your eyebrows shot up; “Well, you see father. The old men! They, they make me so very uncomfortable–”

“–and I completely understand that.” he cuts you off, his hand caressing the side of your cheek, “But you have always been dealing with such horrid men. This job of yours is no different. I sympathize, but surely it must be something else.”

You grow quiet, weighing your options; “Promise…promise me you won’t be mad, father.”

You say, voice small. Your father does not agree, but rather shakes his head sympathetically, beckoning you to tell your story. And so you do. You had only ever told Rosaria of your encounters with the prince, so you could not have predicted the way your father could have reacted to the news of your secret years-long friendship. You had never truly seen your father angry, sure he yelled while the two of you were in disagreeance, but you had never seen such pure rage on the man's face.

Your father looked like he had just received the worst news of his life, actually, he may have just had. The way he clenched his weak fists and shook his lead from left to right, you knew you had messed up. Maybe this is good, you thought, father will forbid me from ever speaking to him again so I’ll have an excuse to never face him.

“I cannot believe this!” he began, “For years. Years! You have disobeyed my advice for you!”

“Father, you don’t understand!” you raised your arms defensively, not quite sure how to defend yourself.

“No!” he spat, “You don’t understand! Don’t you see? I’m trying to protect you! I always have been! Everything I ever do is to protect you! To keep my only child safe.”

His voice faltered towards the end of his ranting, he sounded as if he was about to cry; “From who? Ajax and the king?”

You questioned only upset him more; “No! From the gods!”

“Why?” you asked, confused what he meant.

“It seems you are still too naive to understand.” he brought a hand up to rub his temple, “That's it. You need to leave. Go stay with Rosaria for the night, tell her the truth. The full truth, Y/n.”

You nodded your head, worried about the implications of what he was saying about the gods; “And you are never to speak about your love for the prince to me again. Do you hear me?”

As you take your leave to walk to Rosaria’s house, your heart hurts as you see your father with his hands shielding his face. Although you still didn’t quite understand, from the way he sobbed into his hands you couldn’t help but shed a few tears along with him.

–––––––––

Your eyes were still red and swollen from the tears you had been crying all week. After your father’s strange emotional outburst, there was noticeable distance between the two of you each time you spoke. Rosaria was sympathetic, but after having a long chat with your father one night while you were away working, she too began to look at you with sad eyes. So there you stood, once again in a room full of rich people partying while you were simply the drink pourer. Not a single person the entire evening had tried to make conversation with you, much less ask why your puffy face looked like you slammed face first into one of the marble poles. Being invisible was something you became used to over the past couple of months you have had this job.

You decided that father wallowing away in self pity while standing awkwardly in the middle of a crowd, that you would prefer to actually make your way around to each group of people gathered. Just as you had suspected, most were busy chatting about meaningless gossip or surface level philosophy; standard rich people conversation. As you continued walking, you approached a group of younger women. Offering your services, you got a few jarring remarks from each of the girls claiming that they wouldn't be caught dead wearing the outfit you were. You simply kept your head down and continued pouring their drinks.

As you went to fill the glass of the final girl, you found that she pulled it away at the last minute. Her friends all laughed at your terrible aim. You looked up to see a face that filled your very soul with dread. It was Domitia, Ajax’s Domitia, and she did not look happy. You quickly set down the jug of wine on the floor to begin wiping up the small spill you had made. Domitia sighed as the other girls continued to laugh at you. This was no new occurrence, people making fun of you that is, but you rarely ever spilled the drinks you poured. On top of your already emotional feelings, this new level of embarrassment surely did not help.

“Dear gods,” one of the girls began to mock, “who even are you anyway? We surely need to report a slob like you to your head mistress.”

“I’m Y/n. I’m terribly sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you.”

A gasp escaped Domitia at your words. The other girls stopped laughing and turned to her, concerned, it was likely Domitia wasn’t often caught by surprise.

“You’re Y/n?” she asked, eyes wide with shock, “Ladies, do excuse my brashness, but could you excuse the two of us for a moment.”

Domitia’s voice was stern though not angered. The other girls seemed to catch on that what she was asking wasn’t truly a request, but more so a demand. Normally you would tremble if someone of her status called for you to be alone, yet you had to try hard to quell your anger towards this girl.

“Your highness?” you asked, arms clutching the jug of wine once more, “What seems to be the issue?

Picking up on your sarcasm, Domitia crossed her arms defensively; “I just believe I find this entire situation innppropriate. Do tell me why you find it so necessary to sneak off with my boyfriend all the time then mock me by spilling the king’s wine on the floor right in front of me?”

You stared at her, confused. She couldn’t have been referencing any events from the past week, because you hadn't talked to Ajax since the night you and your father fought. The only reason she would be able to know about any of your meetings would be if Ajax was telling her about them. Oh. Uh oh.

“I’m terribly sorry, your highness.” you replied in a neutral manner, trying hard to maintain the balance of sarcasm yet respect for her authority, “I haven’t spoken with your boyfriend in quite some time. Don’t tell me you’ve been jealous.”

The princess’s eyebrows shot up, her expression growing angrier. Before she could throw your comment back in your own face, you continued to speak; “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. Afterall, I’m just some lowly servant. It's not like some prince would choose a pauper over a princess.”

Domitia took the time to glare at you; “That’s very true, afterall, lowly servant. Ajax has mentioned you before, but you aren’t half as beautiful as he described. You're still not engaged, huh? I can see why.”

Ouch. You could tell Domitia was truly flustered by your words, afterall, a scholar of her status surely would result in such insults unless truly provoked. You could see why a guy like Ajax was in love with her, she could have a tongue twice as sharp as yours; “Maybe I don’t need to be engaged. After all, your little Ajax isn’t either. Have you ever found it strange why the two of us meet in secret so much?”

You were certainly bluffing; Ajax made it clear through his talk about this princess that he harbored no romantic feelings towards yourself. Nevertheless, Domitia opened her mouth to fire back another retort. However, much to your dismay, a familiar face shows up behind Domitia’s, discreetly rubbing the back of her arm to signal that he was there. Domitia, however, took little comfort in his gester, opting to shake him off rather than indulge in the attention of the prince as she so often would.

When he made eye contact with you, he almost smiled. It wasn’t until he saw your angry scowl that he must have recalled the last time the two of you interacted. His expression morphed from joyous, to confusion, to anger. Without any more words said, he moved in front of the princess, his arms stretched out in front of her defensively.

“What do you think you're doing, Y/n?” he accused.

“The two of us were having a chat, Ajax.” you replied, Domitia scoffing at your response.

“Don’t tell me you’re taking your childish anger out on Domitia because you can’t spend as much time as her with me.” he began saying, “Surely you're just jealous of her beauty.”

Domitia stepped back in front of him to face you, rolling her eyes at his words; “Go away Ajax, this argument of ours does not need your unnecessary insults.”

“It’s only the truth!” he said, exasperated, “She’s been jealous of the time you spend with me and not her. She must be! That's the only reason a poor, lousy servant girl such as herself would speak with a rich girl like you.”

Domitia once again told him off, that he was missing context to your conversation. You however felt betrayed by the slip up of his words. A poor, lousy servant girl, you thought to yourself. If that's all he thought of you, then it was most certainly the best to end your years long friendship.

“Maybe you should save those comments for the next time you and the ‘rich girl’ go to sneak off and make out!” you fling your arms, speaking at a much higher volume than the other two had been. Even the groups of people surrounding you had begun to take notice in your conversation, whispering about the implications of what you just said. You could be spontaneous, it was a trait your father and Rosaria had always teased you about. However, this little comment would surely get you the punishment of a lifetime, so you may as well go all out.

Domitia and Ajax stood staring, horrified you had said it aloud at a volume so many people could have potentially heard. Ajax began walking closer towards you; blinded by rage, his hands curled up into a fist as if he was going to punch you. So you did the unthinkable. Hurdling the entire jug of wine at his face, one of the last things you remember of the night was seeing his clothes soaked in wine. Domitia stood covering her embarrassed face as the groups of people began to close in around them, some whispering while some laughing.

The absolute last thing you could recall, however, was how bad the back of your legs hurt while you made the walk of shame back to your small cabin after the head mistress punished you black and blue.

–––––––––

The large gusts of wind that blew through the large worship area of the palace served as a peaceful background noise to the prayers that were held. Over the past month, you had undergone the worst set of jobs you could have possibly imagined. Not only did you still have to pour the wine at the parties, but you had to do so with a humiliating bird mask placed over your noise. The guests would mock and call your ‘little birdie’ before asking if they could pluck your feathers or take you home to roast for dinner. Because you worked the night shift, you were normally given breaks during the day. Unfortunately, this was a privilege you had lost after the humiliating stunt you pulled weeks ago. During the day, you were forced to clean the stables, meaning you were quite dirty. The constant workload also meant that you found yourself getting less than five hours of sleep per night.

Currently, you are sat alongside your fragile father, praying to the goddess Athena for strength and wisdom to survive your current predicament. Your father was enraged after hearing what you had done, of course, though he used your mistake as a learning moment. Instead of taking your short lunch break, your father insisted you meet him at the palace church. For thirty minutes a day you would sit and pray. What first annoyed you began to bring you a great sense of peace; a sense that you were not alone, and that someone was looking out for you.

You had never been on worse terms with the entire cleaning staff until after your incident. They claimed it must have been a miracle by the gods that the king did hang you in his front lawn; who knows, maybe you were finally gaining some of their favor, though you believed it was long overdue. As you prayed to Athena, you thought of your dear friend Rosaria. It was likely she was still present at the temple considering the time of day, and though you doubted your father would willingly let you miss prayer, you may as well give it a shot.

“Pardon me, father.” you said, standing up to brush off your overly dusty clothes to no avail, “I’ll be headed to the washroom.”

Your father didn’t lift his head from where he had been praying, instead he gave you a stumble nod to acknowledge your comment. Although the two of you had your disagreements, your father’s everlasting wisdom and the way he carried himself never failed to impress you.

Walking down the long corridors of the temple, you tried your best to look as discreet as possible. If you were to simply call out Rosaria’s name, you would no doubt draw unwanted attention from the fellow prestiest, most certainly resulting in a punishment. The sight of her short maroon hair caught your eye as you stopped by one of the open arches. Inside the room she stood was a large statue of Athena with a large owl resting on her forearm. She held her head up high, ready to face any challenge coming her way.

As you walked towards Rosaria, your footsteps caused her head to spin around brashly. Her narrow eyes softened at the sight of your face; you were sure she was grateful not to have to deal with a fellow priestess at the moment.

“Y/n?” she said, “How nice of you to join me here.”

There was an air of sarcasm to her voice, though you could tell her intentions were lighthearted; “I came to visit you sister Rosaria. My knees were hurting from all the praying.”

“Your father is still making you do that?” she asked, “Talk about commitment.”

You nodded your head at her jests; “What are you thinking about? Why this statue?” You took a step forward, lifting your arm so that your pointer finger lay in front of the Goddess’s great owl.

“I was simply thinking.” she replied honestly, “Thinking about how foolish we humans are in the pursuit of personal affairs.”

You lifted your eyebrows up, unsure if she was attempting to make a pass at you; “Afterall, our owl-eyed lady never went in pursuit of a man. She always pursued victory, passion, and cunning.”

The two of you took a moment to silently admire the statue.

“Truly admirable, no?”

“Truly, Rosaria.”

–––––––––

After a long night of serving wine in the most humiliating way possible, you attempted to quell the stormy winds that raced in your mind with a walk along the water. Over the past few years, the ocean brought a sense of true serenity to you; a safe haven to go when the world and everyone in it shut you out. You remembered an incident not too long ago where you were walking along this very trail with the prince himself. You remember him babbling about a play that he and his brothers had just seen. A play about the word ‘zelus’.

At first you were convinced he said Zeus, though through his excessive explanation you learned of its entirely different meaning. The personification of jealousy in romance. Aphrodite’s greatest weapon to drive men mad. People always want what they could never have. You supposed this very memory of him being shoved back in your face meant the gods were somewhere laughing about your fragile human nature. The concept of jealousy and love was not a foreign concept for the gods, but you were sure the amount of superficial heart break they faced in comparison to humans was lackluster. As you continued with your train of thoughts, your mind was suddenly interrupted by a faint noise. This alarmed you, of course, who knew what kinds of people would be hiding out this late at night. A servant girl of your stature was surely an easy target.

Lifting up the largest shell you could find with only the moonlight to guide you, you began walking in the direction of the noise. Behind the fishermans abandoned cabin lay what you were sure had created the noise. As you made your way around the corner, you froze on the spot.

There sat Ajax. His soft ginger hair and bright blue eyes shining dully under the moonlight. Although it was hard to tell considering the darkness, his eyes were certainly red and puffier than usual; he had been crying.

“Who’s there?” he snapped defensively as you took another step forward. Perhaps you failed to register that a trained warrior such as himself would be able to tell you were coming from a mile away.

You should have walked away, dropped your shell in the dirt, and returned home without another word. Every logical bone in your body was begging you to turn the other way, knowing that whatever interaction the two of you would have would only hurt you in the long run. Regrettably, you too were simply human. Your emotions no doubt override the logic within you no matter what situation. And so, you took another few steps forward so that your silhouette would be at least slightly visible to where he sat, arms hugging his knees to his chest.

“It’s me…” you replied in a small tone, unsure if it was your nerves or simply the fatigue of working for ten hours a day.

Like a starved lion, he eyes widened while his head quickly turned towards where you stood. A mixture of confusion and suffering riddled his features. He was far too beautiful to look so sad, you noted while fidgeting with the shell in your hand. In a way, his suffering was surely to have been partially caused by you when you humiliated him and his secret love in front of the party guests all those weeks ago.

Instead of lashing out in anger as you assumed he would, his face instead somehow contorted to express more melancholy than before. Without thinking, you took another small step forward in his direction; “Ajax? What's the matter?”

The following silence between the two of you was broken by a muffled sob. Ajax turned his head away from you as if to hide his own shame. It took him a few more moments to recollect himself; “It’s about Domitia…”

You felt a pang in your chest at the mention of the name you so wished to wipe from your memory.

“Ajax,” you said, taking another step in his direction, this time it being much larger, “I-I want to apologize. If what you're about to say is my own fault–”

“Her father is marrying her off to another man.”

…What?

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah.” he hiccuped in between sobs, “Apparently he was planning to for a long time. Ever since he suspected a thing going on between us. He wants her to marry someone older. An older, richer prince.”

He clenched his fists in anger as he ranted to you; “I just can’t believe it! I’m destined to be a powerful warrior– one of the best this word has ever seen! I could give her anything, anything. And yet her father would rather her marry a stranger!”

His arms flew dramatically into the air to add an angry emphasis, that is, until it all came crashing down; “From the start…I was never good enough for her…”

He looked as though he was about to burst into tears once more. Taking pity on the man who you had called your friend for the majority of your teen years, you walked to where he sat before planting yourself in the sand right next to him. He refused to meet your eyes as you sat right beside him; was he too angry, sad, or both?

“And now!” he shouted angrily, “I’ve lost the respect of my guests, my father’s confidence in me, my love, and my…”

He paused to finally look at you; “And my best friend.”

Your eyes widened, but before you were even given a change to reply his soft exterior hardened once more; “I fucked up, I know alright! It was so stupid of me! I don’t even know why I accused you of being jealous of Domitia’s beauty, it's just…when you're a guy like me and you see a girl you love getting into a fight– I shouldn't have gotten involved. I tried to make it better, I really did! I tried talking to my father; persuading him to keep his hands off you, to Domitia’s father to give me a second chance I-I.”

He tucked himself further into his knees. You place a sympathetic hand on his back.

“I’m sorry Y/n.” he said, his small voice unfit for his usual lion-like appearance and confidence, “You’ve been my bestfriend for so long I– it was stupid for me to ever forget that.”

“No.” you replied, “It was stupid and immature of me to pick a fight with your girlfriend. Oh, and spill all that fancy wine on you. I’m such a stupid servant.”

You joked, hoping to lighten the mood. Ajax left out a familiar laugh, before cringing after realizing the implications of you using the words ‘stupid servant’. Instead of apologizing once more, he chose to wrap his arms around you. He smelt of sea water and wine, you noted, wondering if he had been drunk this entire time.

“Did your headmistress chew you out?”

“Oh please, I still haven't heard the end of it. Oh! You should have seen my father.”

“Gods, I don’t even want to imagine how that must have gone down! Not that I can complain, afterall, my father practically threatened to drown you and I at sea. Romantic, huh?”

The two of you laughed together at his playful flirtation. Although he had never said something to you like that before, it all felt so familiar. Talking to him was as easy as talking to Rosaria, or your father. Oh how you missed these times. Times where you didn’t have to worry about anybody else making a surprise appearance in your conversation.

“Would you meet me at our spot tomorrow?” you asked, “I’m gonna need a few hours to process all of this stuff.”

The two of you laughed at your jest, Ajax finally letting go of the tight squeeze he had captured you in.

“Of course!” he wiped the remainder of his tears away, “What time?”

“Probably midnight?” you smile awkwardly.

He rolled his eyes in exaggeration before putting an arm around your shoulder. As the two of you watched the celestial stars twinkle in the night sky, you wondered if this too was perhaps a sign from the gods. Maybe your good fortune in their eyes only came when you sat next to one of the most blessed of them all, a fated warrior, a prince, and, for better or for worse, your best friend.

–––––––––

The sound of the wooden spear breaking to pieces once it made contact with the tree came in the form of a loud thus. The small fragments of the wood flew across the soft sand of the beach. Although it was hard to tell because of the dark, you tried your best to dodge the splinters by raising your hands above your head defensively.

“Another one?” you laughed in awe. Ajax let out a shaky breath, using his left forearm to wip the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead.

“It’s not me, I swear.” he replied, holding up the now-anihilated stick dimly lit under the moonlight, “See, it’s the dumb sticks.”

“Those are spears, Ajax.” you corrected him as you hand your hands through the cold sand. He laughed at your half-joke before throwing the spear into the sand once and for all.

“You know,” you began, “I remember the time where you couldn't even break a spear in half. Let alone destroy four in a ten minute period.”

“I know!” he replied joyously, “Just wait until you see me playing again during one of the ball games, you won’t even recognize me!”

You shuddered simply imagining it. Your mind flashed back to the time you first met when your legs had fallen victim to one of his signature kicks. You were certain that had that happened recently versus when you were twelve that your legs surely would have blown off. Ajax eventually decided to retire down next to you, most likely because of the copious amounts of training and lessons you assumed he had gone through today. You had to hold back a laugh as you imagined Ajax trying to sit still in a lyre class instead of running around like a crazy person as he so normally did.

“So,” he began, “do you think you'll be able to make it to my game this weekend?”

Each time he asked the question your answer almost always remained the same. There was no way in hell you could try to sneak around in an area with so many people, and with the additional rules placed on you recently the chances became even more slim. You turned to him, giving a knowing glance to signify your answer. Although he had heard it at least hundreds of times, his face never failed to deflate. He shook his head with a sign, moving all of his fluffy ginger hair to the front of his face, sticking to his slightly damp forehead.

Laughing at his childish antics, you moved your hand out to move the hair from in front of his face. You half expected him to swat your hand away, half expected his to completely dodge you all together. Instead, he gave you an incredulous look, one you had never been on the receiving end of. His blue eyes enlarged and his mouth slightly agape, he looked onto you in awe as you corrected the strange positioning of his hair. Offering a small smile, you began to retract your arm but were interrupted by the sound of a slap.

He had grabbed your hand harshly, holding it in place against the side of his head. Looking you straight in the eyes, you tried to signal for him to relax. Nevertheless, he kept that same expression as he stared into your eyes, slowly narrowing his eyes and closing his mouth. He was thinking. About what exactly, you had no clue.

“Uh–” you cleared your throat, “Earth to Ajax?”

Just like that the young man released your arm and backed up a noticeable distance. Shaking his head, and messing up his hair again, he quickly discarded whatever he had been imagining. He then paused all together, his movements growing rigid; he had just realized how strange he had been behaving. In the dim moonlight, you thought your eyes may have been playing tricks on you, you noticed his face grow a tinted shade of pink as he caressed the side of his face you had just been holding onto. Moments later, he snapped out of it.

Standing up suddenly, face perfectly content, and dusting the sand off of his cloak. You flashed you another one of his signature smug smiles before lifting his hand up to wave goodbye.

“I should probably head up now, Y/n.” he said, “Wouldn’t want our dear ol’ headmaster to find out I’ve gone missing.”

“Alright,” you replied, “I'll see you soon. I’m thinking about three days at the beach?”

He winked at you before turning his back; “You know it!”

As you watched him walk further and further away, you self consciously held onto the part of your arm he had taken a hold of earlier. Your face grew a shade of pink as you watched the ginger haired young man walk further and further from the beach. You couldn’t wait until you could see the prince once more.

#tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #ajax x reader #prince ajax #rosaria genshin impact #tartaglia genshin impact #childe genshin impact #greek tragedy #growing up together #poor reader #unrequited affection #jealousy #misogyny #time skip #reader and ajax are 16 now #hurray for frienship #best friend #crushes

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