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Post by Dienekes on Apr 1, 2007 8:36:25 GMT -5
( OOC ; Dieneke's wife is deceased )
"Light the fire quickly. So you can see the wounds more clearly, my friend,"
Astinos' tone worried him more then a little. A glance at the Persian confirmed that her concerns mirrored his own, and that his sanity remained intact. Watching his comrade walking out of their make-shift campsite, which he wouldn't have even considered earlier, gave him newfound respect for this Persian seductress they happened upon.
"Sparta is foreign to you, I can see" Dieneke's told Iolanthe after Astinos was safely out of hearing distance. He continued to wrap her wound in bandages, which having gotten rather frustrated with her, he had cleaned himself. "Perhaps it is commonplace for matches between people of different origins where you are from" He remarked, tightening the bandage drastically for effect. "Not so in Sparta" he said harshly, although it attacked his sensibilities, he was saving both his companions from what would be their eventual and eminent death.
"Spartans aren't famed for their open minds or open arms, you know this" Dienekes managed to say after an awkward pause, "People like me and Astinos are few and far apart, you would both be executed if you were to marry" The old soldier informed her. "You know what must be done, do not put his life in jeopardy" His voice was seeped in sadness, resignation, and a fair amount of anger.
Bandaged was the Persian, aflame was the amassed pile of firewood, both serving as reprieves from their current discussion. Dieneke's gazed into the flames, and he examined his thoughts one by one, collapsing into a stupor. A stifled curse in the distance shook him from his lethargy, it wasn't any of the Spartan tongue, for Dieneke's knew them all and recited them under his breath in the moments that followed. Taking off his scarlet cloak, he smothered the flames he had tarried for so long to make, knowing the smoke was a beacon for the enemy and that Astinos could find his way back without it.
"It seems you've brought along some friends" Dienekes chuckled under his breath. "Take the stallion and make haste for Sparta" He told her sternly, pointing to the largest of the two beasts.
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Post by Iolanthe on Apr 1, 2007 10:05:39 GMT -5
She didn't want him to go. But Io could not think of an excuse to make him stay. He would laugh if she said it was unsafe. He was a Spartan...did she really think he couldn't handle himself? No. It wasn't fair to claim she wasn't hungry - for they might be. They were men. But her stomach was tied up in knots, fingers nearly trembling. She liked the way his hair fell between her fingers, his skin against her hands, his lips, especially his lips. How she found herself wishing he hadn't stopped, and to hades with everything else! So that was her excuse?
But he’d already left. Too little, too late. Iolanthe reluctantly cleaned the wound, then peered over her shoulder to watch the progress of Dienekes' work. Her attention flickered to his face, warily, when he spoke, and Io turned back towards the cliff, expression as blank as possible.
"Sparta is foreign to you, I can see.
"It is..." she assented carefully.
"Perhaps it is commonplace for matches between people of different origins where you are from"
She knew what was coming; she could feel it, in the way her heart sped up, and she took one too many breaths of air in a second - trying to steady herself for it. This obstacle had come much sooner than she had expected. Iolanthe gasped back a yelp as the bandage tightly - a little too tightly, roughly yanked along the wound. But that didn't hurt near as much as his next words, the ones she dreaded hearing, Not so in Sparta.
Why? She didn't understand why. It was that repulsive, then, to frequent the bed of someone like her? Astinos didn't think so. He'd made his feelings apparent, and why, why in the light of this didn't she do the same? Oh ho! She was trying to avoid this, but if she had known her efforts were in vain, she might as well have molested him on the cliff face! It didn't make a difference! Nothing she did was ever going to be enough. It made her want to cry. Or scream.
You know what must be done... She didn't even hear the rest of the sentence, she was so angry. She spun around to glare at Dienekes.
"You cannot be serious!" Iolanthe hissed furiously, "Why else do you think I have been so careful?! For my own health? If he wishes to marry me-" That thought made her heart skip for an entirely different reason, "-you have no say in the matter! No one does! I have done everything in my power to help you people and you still won't just-just! I can't not be Persian! If I could be Greek, I would, but this-" She held up her hands, gesturing to the dark skin, "-this can't be changed!" She ran her fingers through her hair, roughly enough to hurt, and just-she paced, a little, the flux of emotions such that she could barely get two thoughts together.
"You cannot ask me to do this," Io said finally, tone a little faint with shock. "I'll be damned if I let you - or anyone like you - keep him away from me. He chose me. He didn't choose a Spartan! And I wouldn't hurt him! I would be loyal. I-I could learn to be the right sort of wife. I could bear him sons, I am strong and healthy enough to do it." And even if it wasn't marriage...she was not willing to just sever all contact. She would not, and there was nothing they could do about it. Well, alright, short of death, but she could be careful.
Iolanthe fell silent on the opposite side of the fire from Dienekes, and she wasn't looking to him either. If only because she was afraid she might cry and she knew that wouldn't be acceptable. Just another difference - the fact that they had no expression, they didn't feel anything! It was unnatural! But Astinos wasn't like that. Not with her. She didn't want to give him up, even if Dienekes was right. Was she putting him in danger?
Iolanthe wiped at her eyes with the bottoms of her palms. As subtly as possible. She didn't belong here. She knew that. But Io liked Astinos. She desired him and she liked him. Granted, she'd met him twice, and that wasn't much to judge someone's character but...her reverie of thoughts was interrupted by the curse. Iolanthe turned around, fairly composed, just in time to see the fire go out.
"What is it?" And Astinos wasn't here. Did he even have his sword, or was it still in the wolf? What if he wasn't armed at all? "We have to go get him. We can't just leave him out there by himself!" And then, she became quite abruptly aware that there wasn't going to be a we involved.
"If they come to Sparta, they are no friends of mine." Take the stallion and make haste for Sparta. "Rot in Tartarus!" Iolanthe retorted sharply.
But she didn't trust him not to kill her, not in the same vein as she trusted Astinos - so Iolanthe backed away, if only because his tone was so harsh. She was wary when she reached the horses, who snorted and pawed the ground with their own anxiety, but glared at Dienekes.
"If you let him die..." She trailed off. Without another word the Persian mounted the horse - with some difficulty on her part. She didn't intend, of course, to go to Sparta. She couldn't just let him die! Especially not in the culprits were Persians. But Dienekes didn't have to know that.
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Post by Dienekes on Apr 1, 2007 11:28:28 GMT -5
"Rot in Tartarus!"
"Tartarus seems quite preferable to another second in your presence" Dieneke's whispered under his breath, growing thoroughly annoyed with the juvenile Persian. Jogging with a pronounced limp, trusty Spatha held high, he sought a defensible position. As cautious as his movements were, it is difficult to remain unseen atop a mountain. Although he could be seen for miles, the dense woodland below provided a perfect sanctuary for thieves, helots, and lastly Persian scouting parties.
Beads of sweat dripped across his brow, a sensation he hadn't felt for tendays, well-conditioned as he was. Trotting around the mountainside would have been a laughable task yesterday, however, at the moment it seemed rather taxing. Fortuna, goddess of fortune, must've had some quarrel with him, because around the next corner he met the Persians.
"FOR SPARTA!"
With a battle-cry that would impress Hercules himself, Dieneke's whipped his Spatha across the throat of the closest fellow, dispatching of him easily. Unsheathing the felled man's sword and beginning to charge in one fluid motion, he rushed to meet the next two soldiers. Each were preparing to swing, so Dienekes dropped onto his knees once he reached them, slicing each hamstring, and making them scream wildly before crashing onto the ground. He finished them off with a quick strike to the forehead, ending their wretched existence.
Struggling onto his feet, Dieneke's was just in time to meet the arrow spiraling towards his shoulder. Just in time to meet it, and unable to slow it's progress. It struck home. Stifling a curse, he tore it out, and began to struggle towards the remaining enemies. Crimson liquid cascaded from the wound, replacing the cloak he had left behind at the camp-site. He knew it was only a matter of time before another arrow came to meet him..
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Post by Astinos on Apr 2, 2007 3:16:10 GMT -5
His current position was uncomfortable to say the least. He could still taste the woman on his lips, his hands still wanted to run through her hair and more than that he wanted to claim her as his own. He could not think of that now though, or rather the reason why he shouldn't be considering it at all was moving about ten yards in front of him right now. It was a Persian scouting party. His face was shrouded by his hair, just as the moon light was kept form his skin by the crimson cloak covering his shoulders.
He could hear movement in the distance. The youth frowned then. He could hear the horses and for a moment he thought the wind carried the sound of angry voices to his ears. But it was gone before he could place either the voice or the words. It was far too ghostlike, almost as if a spirit were speaking to him from the grave or hell itself. His eyes were on the backs of the Persians now. He also knew that he saw Dienekes before they did.
"FOR SPARTA!"
He did not have his sword, but he was not helpless. Far from it. He took the smaller blade from the loop at his waist. His feet padded silently, quickly. He had all the rest he would need for this, by the time reached the group Dienekes had already taken down one intruder and was cutting down two more. Astinos took up the hilt of one Persian weapon, a long thin sword much lighter than the one he usually held. He slashed violently into the body of a Persian as the arrows began to fly. He could do nothing about the arrow now protruding from his friend's body. He took up a position to cover Dienekes using the body of one of the fallen to shield himself and the man now at his back, "If I didn't know better I might think you had a death wish, my friend."
Astinos' attentions were drawn to the sound of horse hooves beating roughly against the hard packed earth. Why does she not return to the safety of the city walls? he asked himself, following it with a muttered curse. She was either very brave or very stupid. He just couldn't decide which. An arrow hit the dead body he held at the ready on front of him causing blood to once again splash across his face and chest, "Come, Dienekes. It is time to put an end to the cowards hiding inside the tree line. For Sparta!"
He dropped the body in front of him, opening himself for whatever the fates held in store for him. Lifting another sword into his hands he tossed first one and then the other through the air as if they were spears. They did not fly as far or as true as did a Spartan spear but they did the job needed. In the darkness beyond two archers fell. Astinos was almost upon them before they stopped breathing. He kicked one of the living as he reached for the embedded swords. All of this even as a Persian blade was aimed for his back.
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Post by Iolanthe on Apr 2, 2007 16:10:24 GMT -5
(As Io would have nothing to do/offer in the way of fighting, I'm done after this post XD)
"FOR SPARTA!"
As she'd been trying to get ahold of the horse which, truth be told, was much too big for her - she wasn't really accustomed to horses. Xerxes found more unconventional fare more appealing. Give her an elephant? She was fine. But a horse? It knew she wasn't its master, and snorted and bucked a couple times before Iolanthe yanked on the mane hard enough to still the animal.
She started to back the horse away from the fray just as the Persian soldiers came forth. Iolanthe heard the screaming first, as it startled the hell out of the horse and Io didn't have the training to calm it down. She slipped, and managed to land in something of a casual heap on the ground, provoking a lip biting curse at the crash into rock. The horse didn't run though, and Iolanthe used it as a shield as she crept closer to the sounds of the fighting. She followed the route Dienekes had made, and managed to peek momentarily at the mayhem. Dienekes' back was covered in dark fluid - it must have been blood, and she glimpsed the same smothering Astinos - she heard his war cry. And the Persians.
The Persians were dying. Those were the screams she heard - why should she have worried that it was Astinos? It wasn't him who was getting cut down with the viciousness of an animal. It was the Persians. Her people. When she had sided with the Greeks, she hadn't thought...well, she'd been naive to think that Xerxes was the only one who would be punished. Some of the Persian soldiers were awful, but some weren't that bad. Some were just ordinary men who had to serve their king. Iolanthe clapped a hand over her mouth as blood dribbled down the cliff face like dark tears, illuminated by the moonlight momentarily.
Iolanthe couldn't say a word. She couldn't bring herself to speak; that's how enrapturing - and horrifying - the bloodlust was. She'd seen Xerxes execute people. She'd seen hands, arms, legs, genitalia cut off to prove a point. But never had she seen wholesale slaughter of men. Persian men. By Greeks. The Persians, she knew, were just following orders! It wasn't as if they were bounty hunters; they were soldiers. She knew what happened when you disobeyed Xerxes, and now...gods, gods she hoped those orders were not including her. She did not want the guilt.
They deserved to die. She knew that. She wouldn't have sacrificed the Spartans for it but...her mind refused to make the distinction. What else did she THINK was going to HAPPEN?! But knowing something and seeing it were two very different things. All she could think about was, it could have been my father, my brother...they could have killed -me-. And why, even for an instant! Did she forget that?! A wolf was not a man. The Persians would have killed her too...for being a traitor, Iolanthe realized with some frustration. Unwelcome by her people for betraying them, and unwelcome by the Spartans for being one of them.
Iolanthe left the horse; she turned away from the fighting, with a single, heady breath and ran. Iolanthe half stumbled, half staggered down the cliff face blindly - she found an easy slope weathered by footsteps. Forgot her cloak somewhere at the base of the mountains, but scarcely felt the cold. Maybe if she ran fast enough, or long enough, or until it hurt so much she couldn't breathe anymore without muscles screaming, she might be able to forget, even for an instant what she'd just seen and, more importantly, heard. Iolanthe knew those screams were going to haunt her for a very long time.
(And tralala! I am out! Have fuun ^_^)
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Post by wowposter on Nov 3, 2008 2:28:23 GMT -5
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