Chapter Text
Seraphim wasn't quite sure what had made him approach you that day. There were a lot of things he noticed about you all at once, filling his eye and his muddled mind.
You were on your way to Prince Alkeus' shop, early in the morning. You smiled at the people that passed by you, and to Seraphim's surprise, they all smiled back. They had only scowled and glared at him.
There was a skip in your step as you walked through the market, humming a song you made up on the spot, adding verses in your mind as you went along. The brown cloak around your shoulders swished and dipped with your movements, revealing very simple clothing underneath. But everything was clean and tidy, just like the rest of you.
Your hair, a colour Seraphim had not quite seen before, was styled neatly on your head and adorned with a little yellow flower that rested above your right ear.
Yes, maybe it was simply that your whole aura radiated cheeriness and kindness, the complete opposite of the cold-eyed strangers around you.
So as you took a turn down a more secluded part of the market, Seraphim swallowed hard and made his way in front of you, effectively blocking your way.
"Oh, pardon me," you apologised immediately.
The dark brown cloak he wore concealed his body, and its hood didn't allow you to see his face. He was just a large figure standing over you, but you could feel a hot gaze on you.
"Do you know where I can find Acrisius and his sons?" a low, masculine voice spoke.
You blinked up at the general direction where his face should be in curiosity. Did he not know that the King and the Princes lived in the palace of Corinth?
You told him that anyway, as well as the directions to the palace, and he nodded his hooded head.
"Oh, but some live down in the polis," you added as an afterthought, and he paused before he could turn to leave. "I work for Prince Alkeus as his bookkeeper. He owns a wine distillery by the river. I could take you if you'd like?"
Seraphim did not hide the snarl in his voice.
"No."
His head lifted slightly, and you were finally able to see what was hidden in the shadows. The face of a young man appeared, handsome and lean, but a white jagged scar ran over his left eye down to his chin. He was blind on one eye. You took note of his injury but made no comment on it, your face showing only worry and sympathy. You wanted to ask him about it, but you assumed that he'd probably gotten asked that question a lot.
"Oh, alright then. Can I help you with anything else?"
Now it was Seraphim's turn to want to question you, precisely on the commentary you withheld for courtesy's sake. Why were you not asking, why were you not reacting, why were you being so polite?! It was starting to drive Seraphim crazy as he began to overthink your behaviour.
He opened his mouth to answer but felt the blood drain from his head instead. He tipped to the side, hand snapping up to cradle his numb and clammy cheek, and you took a step forward in worry as he steadied himself on his feet again. He was hunched slightly over now, his shoulders trembling faintly as he felt the familiar pang of hunger.
"Are you alright?! What's wrong?"
You lifted your arms as if you would take hold of him but hesitated. He didn't strike you as the kind of person that would trust strangers easily.
He groaned out a "Nothing," but you were not convinced. You glanced up and down the street, taking note of the people around you. About 5 people in total were there, merchants setting up their stalls, most of them not even acknowledging the two of you.
"Please, you're not well. Let me help you," you pleaded in a soft voice.
Seraphim groaned past the ringing in his ears and looked up at you. There was nothing but plain compassion shining in your eyes. The last person, the only person that had ever looked at him that way was his mother. Perhaps that is why he lifted himself up a bit further, considering the offer.
He was still strong enough to overpower you if you later revealed to want to harm him. And if you didn't, he would just take what he needed from you and go. He was being too cruel to a stranger, perhaps, but he'd learned early in his life that a bleeding heart would only bring him harm.
"Food," he mumbled out, and you nodded immediately.
If he was about to faint he must have been starving, not just hungry. You silently wondered when was the last time he ate as you instructed him to follow you back the way you came, to your home.
You walked back out of the market in silence, with Seraphim keeping pace behind you. His chocolate eye skittered to everything he could see, cataloguing his surroundings so he could find his way back. He couldn't help but be drawn to your form, however. You turned your back to him so easily, made your pace with such confidence, that Seraphim couldn't help but mistrust you. If you were so positive that he wouldn't hurt you, then surely you must have been hiding something from him. Maybe you had a weapon strapped under that cloak. A short sword, or a knife, perhaps. That would explain the faint callouses on your hands, of which he'd gotten a very brief glimpse.
You had claimed to work for one of Acrisius's sons. That had immediately made him opinionated about you. He thought you were just another rich girl that would spit at him and insult him. You turned out to be much kinder than that, but he still believed you were a noblewoman. Well, a noblewoman with a weapon was a rare thing, but not impossible.
That's why he was so shocked when you reached your house. A low brick building at the end of a quiet street, worn by the elements and time. The edifice had cracks in it, the pavement around it was dirty and broken, but there were pots with yellow flowers on your windowsills, just like the one in your hair. A house like that couldn't possibly belong to a noblewoman.
You opened the door for him and invited him in with a smile. The inside was nothing like the outside of the house.
The walls were painted. That struck him immediately because the drawings took up nearly every blank space. The night sky filled with stars here, a field of flowers there, a beautiful river on that side, a dense forest further away, Seraphim didn't know where to look first.
He heard you chuckle as you walked into the open kitchen, and he gazed back at you to find a fond smile on your lips, your cheeks tinted red. You couldn’t remember the last time someone saw those drawings.
"Do you like them? I couldn't stand the blank walls, it made the house so empty. It took me a long time to cover all that, but I'm quite satisfied with them."
Your hands immediately clutched at ingredients and pots, and you began cooking for him.
Seraphim was speechless. He was particularly focused on the forest, which covered one side of the hallway that led into your bedroom. It reminded him of his home in the woods, of his mother, of the family of bears he grew up with. Hesitantly, he lifted the hood above his head and pulled it back, revealing his full face and head to you as he walked into the kitchen. You smiled when you saw him, and gestured for him to sit at the wooden table in the middle of the room. A glorious sunset was depicted behind you, the reds and oranges and hues of purple bleeding together and emphasising the golden sun in the middle. Underneath it was the ocean, an almost endless stretch of a blue so dark it almost seemed black, and Seraphim recognised it.
He'd seen that very thing only a day prior, as he had come up the road to Corinth, situated right next to a cliff. Standing atop the dangerous, jagged drop, that's the view he'd first gotten of the polis' landscape.
"They are... beautiful," Seraphim spoke with trepidation.
He didn't know much about art except for what he'd seen over the years on his travels, but your tapestries had truly touched that small, distant part of his heart that still appreciated wonderful things.
You kicked your smile up a few notches at the praise and beamed at him.
"Thank you! Oh, I never asked your name."
He kept silent for a moment, glancing back at the forest on the wall. It was so lifelike, so bright and full of familiar colours and images.
"Seraphim."
You introduced your self in turn, and then turned your back to him once more as you prepared a salad. You didn't see as Seraphim mouthed your name, tucking it into the part of his mind that kept track of everything, even in his hunger. Speaking of which, the food you had prepared smelled delicious, filling the air with a wafting aroma that made Seraphim almost salivate.
"May I ask why you're searching for the King and the Princes, Seraphim?" you questioned, filling out plates for him.
You missed the glimmer in his chocolate eye as you said his name. Again, the last person that had ever said it was his mother. Surprisingly, instead of the familiar hatred and misery he felt whenever he thought about his dead mother, this time he only recalled her sweet voice calling out to him.
That's why he chose to reply to you.
"I met them a long time ago. I owe them something."
His words were monotone, and you didn't quite know how to interpret them, but it sounded like they had done Seraphim a favour.
"It's a little hard to believe that Acrisius's sons would do something good for someone," you said with a dry chuckle, setting the food in front of him, along with a loaf of fresh bread and cutlery.
Seraphim immediately dove in, too preoccupied with satiating the hungry pit in his stomach to correct you. You sat across from him to keep him company and talk a bit more. He gave you the impression that not many people did that with him.
"I mean, of course, I work for Prince Alkeus, but he is hardly a good man," you sighed.
You leaned forward on the table, folding your arms over each other and looking off to the rest of your kitchen. It had basic furniture and apparatuses for a living, but other than that and the drawings on the walls, the entire house was pretty much bare. You had no money to spare to make your living any better, because Prince Alkeus barely paid you enough to buy your food every other day.
"He and his brothers are harsh and ruthless, taking advantage of a lot of people here," you went on. Seraphim slowed down a bit to hear you talk. "The King is no better, really. Actually, the entire royal family, ever since King Periander was on the throne, has been one disaster after another. Erm, well, or so I hear. I was not yet born during King Periander's rule." You threw in an awkward chuckle at the end, but Seraphim did not seem to mind.
"Then why do you work for them?" Seraphim questioned, gazing at you with an intensity that made you blush again. Scarred or not, the man looked ruggedly handsome either way. "If things are so bad, why don't you leave this place behind, make a living somewhere better?"
You smiled sadly at him, feeling a harsh tug in your heart.
"I guess I don't really have the guts for that. I've thought about it countless times, believe me, but..." You looked around, your eyes following the drawings on the walls. "I barely make enough to survive here. I don't know if I could make it somewhere else on my own. At least here I have my neighbours, people I've known all my life."
Seraphim finished his food, practically wiping all the plates clean, and downed the cup of water you brought him. He said your name in a way that halted your thoughts and made you listen carefully.
"I'm looking for Acrisius and his sons so I can kill them," he said, chocolate eye flashing with a spark of deep hatred.
You were speechless for a second, mouth falling open, before finally uncrossing your arms and lacing your hands together. Seraphim was very sure you were going to turn on him, but no.
"So I suppose whatever they did to you wasn't good," you muttered, looking a bit apologetic for misunderstanding him. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Talk about it? He hadn't even said the tale out loud to himself all these years, how could he now? And to a complete stranger nonetheless.
She's different, a small voice whispered in Seraphim's head. And it was right. You were the first person to smile at him in so long, to treat him kindly and show him hospitality, talk to him like a normal person and not... a monster. You did not see him as a monster. The revelation sent something like fire sparking in his blood.
"I lived with my mother in the woods ever since I was a kid," he began abruptly, and it took you a second to register that he was opening up to you. You fell completely silent and leaned forward a bit more, showing him your full attention. Despite himself, Seraphim found that he quite liked being in the spotlight of your eyes. "For many years it was just us, surviving peacefully in the forest. One day a few of Acrisius's sons showed up. They murdered my mother right in front of me."
You clamped a hand over your mouth, gazing at the man in sorrow as his chocolate brown eye nearly watered. He pointed a finger at the scar on his other eye, at that painful-looking slash.
"They blinded me, cut me with the sword that had slit my mother's throat. I'll find them and make them pay," he snarled, not at you, but at the anger rising within him again.
Lowering your head, you focused down at the table. The poor man had every reason to want revenge, but you were worried about the trouble he would cause himself if he carried on with it. Acrisius and his palace guard were no laughing matter.
"I'm so sorry, that's horrible," you whispered, tears brimming your eyes. You couldn't imagine being in his place, seeing your mother get killed right in front of you, unable to save her. Seraphim was taken back, not really knowing how to respond to your empathy. "You've suffered a lot, haven't you? I understand why you want retribution, Seraphim, but you will be hunted down by Acrisius's army, and there's no telling what they'll do to you..."
Seraphim was very close to losing his mind with you. He just told you he was planning to murder the noblemen, and you were worried about him. Was your heart that big, or were you just naive? Whatever it was, he wasn't so sure he wanted to confront you about it. He wouldn't stand it if you turned against him too, after all you've done for him so far. And in his eyes, you did more than anyone has ever done before. It sounded pathetic, but it was the truth.
"Then I won't let them catch me," he concluded, jaw set and brows furrowed. "I've been killing nobles for a long time. Don't underestimate me."
You smiled mirthlessly.
"I'm not doubting your strength, Seraphim." The gentleness in your voice made his heart constrict violently. Had you even heard him admit that he was a murderer too, or did you just not care? "I know we just met, but I can't help but worry for you."
"Why?" he shot back before he could think to stop himself. "Why do you care?" He said your name again, in a strained softness that made you wonder just how damaged he really was.
"I'm not sure," you smiled back weakly, and suddenly you looked so much older than you really were. Seraphim realised with a start that there was only one bedroom in the house, and no sign of another person living with you. You were alone too. "I guess it's been a long time since I last had someone to worry about. And it's been a long time since you had someone to worry about you too, Seraphim."
Gods be damned for putting you in his path, you were going to drive him mad. He had been so sure of what he wanted to do ― so driven by his need for revenge, and now his resolve was fraying. The most cursed thing of all was that you were not even trying to change his mind, you had not been kind to him out of some ulterior motive, wasn’t asking for something in return, but out of selflessness.
No, Seraphim, knew a better word.
Humanity. You had more humanity than he'd ever seen before. He supposed he lost his a long time ago, when he held the corpse of his dead mother in his arms and cried out of one eye.
He stood up, cloak fluttering behind him.
"I should leave," he announced icily, avoiding your saddened gaze. He bit his tongue and reminded himself of his original goal. He was going to the wine distillery to kill Prince Alkeus, and forget about you.
You followed him, standing silently behind him as he paused in the doorway with his back to you. The light from outside highlighted his silhouette and cast a shadow on the floor in front of you. For just a moment, he was not the orphaned, broken man that had been starving for a meal and basic human interaction. He didn't quite look like a man at all. He was something more, something better, yet you would not name him a god, for you knew none were befitting to share the title with him. It was ironic.
Seraphim was also at a sudden loss. He'd just told himself to forget you, and yet...
He murmured your name, making sure your attention was on him, and looked at you over a broad shoulder with his good eye.
"You know where I'm going, what I'll do, right?"
Again, that beatific smile of compassion lit your face, making the shadows on the floor almost shy away from your light.
"To kill Prince Alkeus." There was no anger, no frustration in your voice.
"And... you are fine with that?"
Apart from the literal murder he would carry out, you would lose your job and the money you needed. He couldn't help but feel guilty for that. But you simply kept surprising him. You made a show of shrugging indifferently, that smile never wavering.
"He had it coming."
Seraphim laughed, for the first time in years. It was raspy and unsteady, but it was like music to your ears, because it was genuine and it changed his whole face. A grin really suited him, brought out his sharp cheekbones, made that jagged scar over his eye insignificant. His laughter died down, a simmering smile forming on his lips, that chocolate eye gazing at you with mixed emotions.
Your name fell out of his mouth so easily now, like he'd known it his whole life. "Can I..." Seraphim swallowed hard, cursing himself for what he was about to ask. "Can I ever return ― back here?" He bit back a stray 'to you' just in time. It was ridiculous ― how much you changed him in the span of less than an hour.
A smile more radiant and beautiful than any you had shown him so far crowned your lips. It made your eyes crinkle softly in the corners, your cheeks stretch and flush gently with colour.
"Yes," you breathed immediately, eagerly. Seraphim felt sweet air return to his body as he breathed in deep, relishing that answer. "Of course, anytime you want, Seraphim. I'll be right here."
You'd be right there ― for him. Fire sang in his blood at the thought, sending nervous energy to his whole body. He wanted to return. He was about to bring a world of troubles to you for no other reason than to satisfy his own selfish desire for revenge, and you told him he could always come back. It nearly brought him to tears, but he held back. He wanted you to keep the memory of him smiling as your parting gift ― just in case something went wrong and he couldn't make it back to you.
With one last nod to you, Seraphim turned back ahead and let the door shut softly behind him. You were now permanently imprinted in his mind, your eyes, your smile, your words, swirling around his head constantly. He didn't mind, letting the thoughts of you settle in like they belonged there, and mix with everything else. Thoughts of his mother, thoughts of the nobles, thoughts of his past.
And for the first time, thoughts of his future.