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effervescentdragon · 2 years

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since you're passionate about mythology-coded charles, what about god!seb taking an interest in mortal!charles?

You will not win, brother, she tells him, and he only laughs, mischief echoing in every sound he makes. You underestimate me, he replies. You always have, and that will be your downfall.

She stands, a pale red rose in her hand, and his heart beats faster. Her eyes are deceitful, and she looks like she knows something that he does not. He keeps the grin on his face, unrepentant, unaffected in the face of her loveliness. She is as vicious as she is beautiful, and he dares not show a weakness, lest he be stricken.

As you have always underestimated me, she says, and her voice is a honey-entombed thorn. Tell me, brother, she spits out the last word like it is a curse. Where is your pretty boy now?

He cannot help the widening of his eyes. She sees; she sees everything. Her smile turns snide. Where is your lover, more beautiful than the sunset, lovelier than the morning dew, as delightful as the fresh spring in the summer? She brings the rose to her face, inhaling its scent. Where is your beloved?

He does not know when he takes the steps towards her; his golden shoes take him to her side quicker than she thinks possible. He grabs her by the neck, and she gasps; the rose falls from her hands, petals falling off as it crashes into the dirt.

Have you hurt him? He growls. She cannot speak; he does not need her to. If you have hurt him, sister, I shall never forget it.

His eyes sparkle gold; hers widen in response. You would dare - she gasps when he tightens his hold on her throat, then lets go just enough for her to be able to speak. You would hurt your kin? For - for a mere mortal?

Shut your lying tongue, he hisses. She sucks in a breath. There will always be mortals, she replies, raspy and tight. Why is this one any different?

I would not expect you to understand, he says, staring into her green eyes. 'Tis irony of highest degree, he scoffs, and her eyes narrow. The Goddess of Love, without the fundamental understanding of what love truly is. He closes his eyes. Selfish and capricious. He opens them again, and lets go of her, stepping away in disgust. Shameful.

She rubs on her throat as her eyes, unblinking and fixed on his, clear. They are beautiful, and green, but they are the wrong shade. They always were.

Know you what irony is, brother? She asks, and her face twists in a cruel grimace. That you be the Herald of the Gods. She scoffs. The fastest of all the Gods, and yet, she smiles, and it is poison personified, and yet, you are not quick enough to save your beloved.

He feels the rage fill him from the tip of his head to the bottom of his soles. His skin vibrates with power, and his head spins. She does not stumble away when he flies into her space. If he dies, I will never forgive you, he says, and he makes it a vow. She hears it, in her core, in her essence, and he sees incredulousness and doubt and regret in her eyes. If he dies, for as long as we exist, you are no longer my sister, he spits out, and then he is flying like he has never flown before, leaving devastation in his wake.

When he comes to the battlefield, it is burning.

The smoke fills his eyes and makes them water, so putrid it is, but he cannot care. He needs to find him. He closes his eyes and searches the battlefield; searches for a piece of himself he has left with his beloved. It pulsates; it calls to him, beacon of gold in the darkness of terror and the red of blood spilled. He opens his eyes and descends, hurrying.

He finds his lover on the brink of death; his wounds are too severe, and the only kin of his who could stop this death are either neutral or on the other side of this war. There is nothing to be done; his love will be lost to him. He pulls his beloved's head into his lap and cleans the blood from his skin, caressing his lovely face.

His eyes open, and green meets blue, and merges.

'My love,' he says, smiling despite the pain. 'How are you here?'

I've come to say goodbye, he says. You are to be parted from me, beloved.

'Oh, no,' he shakes his head and smiles that sweet smile of his, which is the most wonderful sight in the world, even as bloody and weak as it is now. 'I will never be parted from you. You are half of my soul,' he says, and his eyes are feverish, and his skin is burning, but the kiss he bestows upon the hand caressing his cheek is scorching. 'It is impossible to part us.'

You believe so? He asks, pain tearing at his ribcage as he observes his beloved's breaths becoming shallower and shallower. 'I do,' he says weakly. 'My love, not even your brother Thanatos will keep me away from you, for I am yours and yours only, heart and soul, until the world ceases to exist.'

Swear you? He asks in a shaky voice, unwilling to believe a mortal could make such a vow and mean it, and yet unable not to hope. Swear you, beloved?

'I swear upon my life and upon my death that I shall not be parted from you,' he says, and the words echo. 'Search for me when I am gone, and I shall be mindful of anyone with shoes of gold and eyes of sky whom I encounter,' he says. 'But now, kiss me, for I want to die with your taste on my lips.'

He lowers his head. I love you, he whispers against his beloved's lips, and kisses him, and lets his tears flow when the lips under his become lifeless. He breathes in his beloved's final breath and holds it in his lungs until they are fit to burst, and then he cries until he has no tears left.

I will never cease searching for you, beloved, he whispers to his dead beloved. He raises his head to the sky then. And I will never forget this, nor forgive it, my once-but-sister-no-more, for as long as the world turns.

There is a lightning then, and rain falls. It tastes like regret on his tongue, but he does not care, and it is not enough to extinguish the fire around him, for the battlefield burns and burns and burns with all the rage of a devastated God's heart.

"- and look, Charlie, he's wearing golden shoes!"

Charles turns, eyes wide, but before he can say anything, or figure out why his heart started beating faster, there is a man standing before him and Enzo. His smile is wide and his eyes are sky-blue, and Charles' cheeks heat.

"Hello, Enzo. Yes, I'm wearing my gold shoes, thank you very much, I deserve them after what it took me to win last year!"

Enzo laughs as they hug, but the man - you know his name, why can't you say it, you know who he is, you know him - keeps his eyes on Charles'. Sky-blue, Charles thinks, blushing like a fool. His eyes are like the skies, and they are beautiful.

When they separate, he asks "And this is your brother?", and Enzo says "Yes".

Charles doesn't know what possessed him then, but he sticks out his hand.

"Charles," he says. "My name is Charles" - this time, comes the thought, unbidden, and he shakes it off. "It is very nice to meet you, at last."

The man's eyes sparkle, and Charles feels like he can't breathe.

"Hello, Charles. I am Sebastian," he says, and it sounds like he isn't saying everything he wants to; like there is a whole world unsaid in the pause he makes. "I am very glad to finally meet you, too," Sebastian says, and their hands touch.

Something slots into place, like a whole universe finally aligning properly. When Charles smiles, shyly and sweetly, Sebastian's answering smile feels like warmth of the sun itself.

#i coyldnt sleep till i got this out #effervescentdragonwrites #sebchal #cheb #mythology au #i have a whole verse about this but i had to stop myself #i may elaborate on it on some point #f1 rpf #my writing #uhhhh i hope u like this anon its been a while #lmk what yall think #i rly wanted to make it celtic but like. if you think greeks are insane celts are on another lvl #author vaguely remembers illiad and which god was on which side xD

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