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It’s been many years, and his salted tones haven’t changed one bit. When comes to the world of Askr, he feels no pressure to keep up such a jest, it wasn’t a secret to his sister. No need to hide his greys. He guessed the colours would be a lush gold, unclear already of what else decorated the armour the natives had. He was younger, face lacking the drow of age, yet not of stress. It helped, he supposed, a tired king, clearly struggling from age old injuries playing catch up might not had the most friendly face.
And so he waits, maybe for the day he wakes up, learns the past 17 years (and his time here, too) have been a horrid nightmare for him to wake up to the golden threads of-
And he waited.
Meeting his father, alive, was something else. Meeting his mother, also alive, was also something else. They laughed and cheered their time away here, knowing that it would most likely be their residence after this war. He saw how they enjoyed a sights, of presumed white and gold and blue and so much more. Despite it all, near mocking him to the face, he couldn’t be more glad to see them breathing
Yet, he still waited.
Believing in fairy tales must of had an effect on him, truly. Others long lost came together once again, in both family, friends and lovers. Eyes gleaming as they could once more cherish the sight of their sweets own eyes.
And, like a bitter and wrinkled hag, he waited for his happy end.
Came and went a year, almost never really giving a thought for his county, since he came to a world where the dead could cheer with the living. He thought about the others, and their pain to endings, and how those endings got re written again and again. At this rate, he cloud only beg to see his spun gold once more, and soon he would enjoy those in the blue and pinks and golds of Askr.
It was a chilly morning, of which he was to welcome new heroes. A task he only had once when welcoming his late father. Julia had not came, as per the summoners instructions.
So he stood, alone, shivering so slightly as his breath came fog and his nose rose. It was on,y then, he saw the three new heroes, a plastered smile of practised ease came, only to fall.
It was the gold of the coat, then the wine cloak over his shoulders, and all too soon honeyed eyes bore through him.
“Ares”
the following days felt elevated. seeing his sisters lilac and his fathers sea blue was hard, readjusting was hard. readjusting *a second time* was worse.
But at least, they could support each other this time
their first kiss in 17 years was a mess, Ares couldn’t do anything to save his soul while he could at least carry him onward to a much better state. pulling apart was only worth seeing the sunset eyes
interacting had been changed, for the better and most. people talked more, he must of not been smiling. and how could he
ares was splotchy, put nicely, overtly pale with greys and beige mix. he was no better, he was assured.
ares was also dark, physically. the deep blacks and reds of his house, and shining gold flickering off him.
and, when for the first time ever he was stripped of any guard, did he see it. a small mark, proof of his blood and ares blood. and they could see, truly, people are just... splotchy.
it’s small, almost hidden really. family only, with the exception of one. white and gold, with red for him and blue on ares to show how things weren’t the same anymore. and while he drifted off into ares eyes, he thought that ares should wear blue more-
he didn’t hear the words for them to meet as more then people, and when ares moved to capture his lips he forgot he was around family. leaning in, and drinking ares in, all he could see was gold