asterion*
She fires sharp-edged words back at him, barbed enough to cut if he was an easier man to bleed. Asterion knows her fiery passion - that storm in her - surges just as strongly as her loyalty to the Dusk Court, but his eyes still gleam hard as river-stones at her. He sees nothing in need of redemption.
But she is not the only one to find a wealth of faults in herself, the only one to flay herself to threadbare edges in the name of duty or guilt.
The king says nothing, only carries through his feint - and is startled by the smack and the force of her spear’s shaft striking his. It’s followed at once by a clatter as his weapon is thrown free to crash and roll across the hard-packed dirt, nothing but a stick again.
He is frustrated in himself, his mouth a firm line as she speaks, his gaze regarding hers. Yet when Asterion nods there is no stiffness in it, though the usual softness is still gone from his eyes when he answers. “And a champion is no use if she doesn’t rest as well as train.” For a beat he holds her gaze - and then he shakes his head and the tension out of his neck and shoulders and turns to retrieve the spear. The bay rests it, butt on the ground beside him, as he faces her again.
There is no pity in his gaze, but there is understanding, and care, and some amount of command.
"These are hard times, Theodosia, and I don’t know that there will be an end soon. I hope you can find balance - Terrastella will take all you can give her and be grateful for it, but her king would see you whole, as well.”Their country is nothing if its people are broken - for Asterion the Dusk Court is not its borders, not its swamps and fields or even cliffs.
It is Theo, and Flora, and Fiona, and Auru. All of them, all deserving to be whole.
In the end he knows he can change her mind no more than he would allow anyone to change his. The king blows out a breath that is not quite a sigh and moves back toward the castle. Before he replaces his wooden spear with its brethren, he looks to her once more.
“Meet me here again, next week?” he asks. “And I will keep my grip.”
@
