#hurray for frienship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

birdie123au · 2 years

Text

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

28 notes · View notes