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Mydei was aware of the admiration he often procured from Okhema. At first, he found it a simple misunderstanding, for as long as he had known Castrum Kremnos and Okhema had been at each other's throats. But it persisted well into his Chrysos Heir career; he began to think that, perhaps Okhema was just fickle, willing to change longstanding idealistic conflicts for a handsome face.
That was before the first piece of propaganda crossed his trail.
‘Vote King Mydeimos for the most beautiful person in Okhema’ Mydeimos was thoroughly confused. The gaudy poster was covered in sparkling hearts and stars with a strange depiction, of, what looked to be a person smiling and giving a thumbs up... assumingly. There actually was a quite talented drawing of his side profile in the middle; He simultaneously was impressed and shocked that someone would take the time required to accurately depict him.
As most know, Mydei has never been one for excessive flattery, too many people waste their time speaking fanciful words than saying what they want. However, he had never seen admiration pushed to this extent; he was also certain that Phainon had never been depicted so tastefully on a public poster or for its purpose to be advertising his beauty. He must keep it out of a sense of solidarity, a solidarity that involved lording this over Phainon forever.
A line of text at the bottom of the poster suddenly catches his eye, ‘property of the Mydeimos Fanclub’
Interesting, he wasn’t aware he had one, do all the Chrysos Heirs have one? He supposed that would make sense, with them being Okhema’s chosen heroes. He makes haste to bring this up to Phainon, the quicker he could see the Okheman’s expression fill with envy, the better his day would be.
Mydeimos barges through the door of the Deliverer’s quarter, but what he finds is beyond even him, Phainon’s room is filled with people, mostly woman, and they are all arranged in a circle with Phainon appearing to be instructing them upon something.
“What the-” Mydei is stunned into silence.
They all scream at the sight of him, one of the men yells scatter and the rest do just that, a perfect mimicry of field mice. Some race past him through the door; others jump out of the balcony. Only phainon and a lady in a wheelchair are left, Phainon collects himself easily, beginning to wheel the lady out with immense chivalry, the woman gives Mydei a slight wave and Phainon bids her farewell at the door as if this is common practice.
Phainon turns to him with a cheerful expression “Mydei, it’s so nice to see you, what brings you here?” a strong hand is placed on his elbow, steering him away from the door, perhaps out of the fear of Mydeimos chasing after the woman for answers.
Mydeimos just stares at him, still stunned. He has completely forgotten what he came here for.
“HKS, are you part of a cult?” he pries.
Phainon doesn’t bat an eye, “would you like to sit down, my friend?” Gesturing good-naturedly to his living space.
“Stop acting so chivalrous, you scoundrel!” Mydei growls taking the man by the ear and pulling his face closer, forcing phainon’s head at an angle.
Phainon hisses grabbing onto Mydei’s hand, “ah, wait, wait Mydei, I swear I can explain.” He yelps when Mydei drags him across the floor and hangs his head over the balcony; his arms struggle on the railing attempting to push his body away from the edge.
“It’s not even that far of a drop, get over yourself, Deliverer.” Mydei grins sadistically.
“Mydei, Mydei, I swear if you just let me go, I can tell you everything.”
Mydei considers this for a second looking into Phainon’s pleading eyes, his eyes are brimming with tears, it makes Mydeimos feel bad, or maybe good, he can’t really tell, he’s feeling very convoluted at the moment. Ultimately, he decides to let the deliverer go, which is immediately the wrong decision.
Phainon tackles him to the ground, manhandling his arms to his sides and keeping his knee on Mydeimos’ chest, damn the Deliverer’s strong thighs, they are both a blessing and a curse. Wait, why would they be a blessing? Then Mydei sees his thigh muscles expand when pressed against his calf, and he miraculously remembers. Unfortunately, his daydreams are interrupted as he remembers the compromising position he’s being forced into. He struggles violently, but Phainon has made sure to cover all the bases, keeping Mydei’s movement under lock and key.
“You snake!” Mydei snarls, “have you no shame?”
“Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry my dearest friend.” He grits out apologetically.
“Tribios, I think I need that rope now!” Phainon calls out urgently, strain pulling at his voice. It pleases Mydei to know that this is no easy task for his Deliverer, however it’s annoying to see that Phainon’s perfect image is not hindered by this horrid angle.
A bright light shines on both of them as Trianne appears from her gateway carrying a bundle of rope.
“Here you are Snowy! Sorry Red.” She sounds genuine, which makes Mydei forgive her for whatever is happening instantaneously, and makes him blame it entirely on Phainon.
Phainon makes quick work of him, wounding him up so tight that he’s practically daring Mydei to try to escape. Luckily for all of them, Mydeimos has resigned himself to his fate. Whatever is so important to Phainon and Tribios is something he’d like to witness as well.
Phainon stands up admiring his work before unceremoniously lifting Mydei up and placing him on his shoulder.
“Just like a sack of flour, this is making me terribly nostalgic, Mydei.” Phainon sighs wistfully, beginning to chuckle.
“Silence, farm boy.”
“Boy? I’m not so sure of that.” The Deliverer says, amusedly.
“I beg to differ, immensely.”
“Evidence?”
“Your actions alone are all I need, childish Hyena.” Venom drips from Mydeimos’ tongue.
Phainon breaths out, “Ah, yes, you must be right, for your word is my creed, my lord.”
Mydei’s fists clench but a soft yellow taints his ears and neck, “Your voice is constant sandpaper on my nerves.”
“Oh wow, I didn't know you knew how to use metaphors, Mydei!” He laughs, Mydei scoffs. “Let us be off my lord, wouldn’t want us to be late!” Mydeimos can simply hear the wide grin on Phainon’s face.
Mydei is forced to watch Phainon’s backside as he traverses through Okhema. Perhaps Mydei would feel more shame about being taken prisoner if the view wasn’t so good.
Trianne keeps him company, occasionally asking him questions that keeps it livelier. While he actively tries to keep his eyes on the ground beneath them, instead of anywhere... unsavory, Mydei has never been one for maintaining appearances and the Deliverer has this unique way of making him not give a damn.
Eventually, he’s placed upright, and Phainon steadies him as all his blood rushes back to the right place.
“Will you run if I untie you?”
Mydei is forced into intense eye contact with Phainon’s hand at the back of his neck, the blue of his eyes is striking in the afternoon’s oranges and yellows. Trianne takes her leave, waving goodbye, but Mydei did not take notice.
“I guess we’ll have to find out, Deliverer.”
Phainon’s face breaks into a genuine smile; he suddenly does something unexpected, tenderly touching his forehead to Mydei’s own.
“Please don’t be mad at me my dear Mydeimos, you know how much I value our talks, in all mediums.”
With a quick flick of Phainon’s wrist, a simple blade cuts through the various layers of rope leaving a clump of blunt edges. Mydei has been abandoned when he looks up from untangling the last strands of his imprisonment.
“Lord Mydeimos!”
“You came just in time!” a rough hand pats Mydei on the back.
A cheerful Okheman joined by a fellow Kremnoan take him on each arm, pulling him towards the center of the bustling city. When they emerge from the secluded alleyway Phainon had left him in, he is bombarded with a gathering of both Kremnoan and Okheman citizens all interacting extremely civilly, perhaps one could say, friendly. Mydeimos, for the second time today, is stunned, the beautiful image of community a complete one-eighty from the past hostilities between the two groups.
Mydei is intensely aware of the conflicts that have surrounded Okhema since Aglaea agreed to house his people. Many a time has he stayed up into waking hours brainstorming a way to solve the unrest and to make his people feel comfortable in the new environment.
A hoard of young children run up to him baring bundles of flowers and a woven crown.
“For you, Lord Mydeimos! Won't you except our gift?” a small girl’s eyes twinkle up at him, offering the crown to him.
Mydeimos silently kneels and allows them to do whatever they please to his appearance; flower crowns are draped all along his head and shoulders, as if he’s a show horse.
When the children finally allow him to stand up, he is greeted with the attention of all the other people gathered in the square; they gaze at him with admiration and soft amusement.
“To Mydeimos the undying, the most beautiful face in Okhema!” The little girl from before bellows into the crowd atop a large wooden crate.
The crowd erupts into playful cheers; Okheman and Kremnoan alike sharing the silly but apparently truthful sentiment. The little girl breaks out into giggles making her stumble atop the crate, Mydei steadies her with a hand on her small head. She then looks up at him with the softest and most thankful smile he has ever received. What has he done to receive such kindness from this tiny Okheman? He wonders.
The noise quiets down, once again the spotlight is on him. This title he has been awarded is the most absurd and ridiculous thing he has ever acquired, but as he looks at the unity it has brought them all, he can’t bring himself to look down upon it.
“I, Mydeimos, accept this title with utmost gratitude, I’m humbled to have the admiration of so many.” Mydeimos bows with a hand placed over his heart.
He straightens up; the crowd is filled with bright grins and quite a bit of joyous laughter.
“However, those of you in the crowd that frequent the training grounds will soon gain a taste of my overwhelming wrath.” Mydei gazes threateningly, making eye contact with quite a few fearful persons.
“Then I guess that means we should make use of peace while we have it!” A Kremnoan responds boisterously from the crowd, which echoes in thunderous agreement.
The night splinters off into lively chatter and no shortage of alcohol. Mydei is able to slip away from the tiresome children so intent on using him as a jungle gym and discards the multiple flower crowns weighing him down. He escapes to a spot overseeing the whole function. He watches the triplets flutter and poke around the people; he is surprised to see that it pulls even Lady Aglaea from her chambers.
Sound of footsteps carry on the wind; Mydei doesn’t even glance behind him.
“Deliverer.”
A sigh, then a warm body settles beside him.
“You astonish me Mydei, how do you always know?”
“Because I know you.” Mydei turns his head to face Phainon. “Why did you do all of this?” For me?
Phainon’s eyes widen; Mydei’s eyes flick to his hand, that clenches almost imperceptivity on the railing.
“Well... changing people’s point of view can be quite, easy, when we are all in agreement about something.” In Phainon’s defense, he almost made it through the line without breaking character but near the end his eyes turned away bashfully, a faint yellow dusting his cheeks.
“My goodness Deliverer.” Mydei smirks, “you did all of this to avoid telling me how attractive I look to my face?”
He is well aware that Phainon’s sentiment holds far more than flattery. The peace that Phainon has brought to his people means far more than any gift he has received, be it a title, or compliment, or reward, in the past, present, and future. But, will you allow him to tease his Deliverer just this once; they have danced around each other for far too long.
Mydei brings a gentle hand to Phainon’s chin, directing his partner back towards him. Phainon’s eyes remain closed as if ashamed.
“Is it really so hard to say, I love you Mydei? I find your reluctance to be deeply insulting.” The deliverer’s eyes open rapidly.
“Wha- no! Mydei, the fault lies only with me, I’m just too immature to put my feelings into words.” Phainon pleads; his hand rests firmly on Mydei’s own where it has stayed upon his jaw.
Mydeimos is enjoying this far too much.
“Then how about you show it with actions instead?”
Mydei slowly brings Phainon’s head closer, his other hand coming up to tangle in the hair on the nape of Phainon’s neck. The Deliverer's breaths cut short as the distance between the two gets closer and closer, he appears to make up his mind about halfway to Mydei’s lips. His hands coming up to Mydei’s sides slowly and steadily circling his forearms around his waist, then pulling their stomachs flush against each other. Their mouths crash together, and they quickly get carried away by the sensation.
When they split up, Phainon looks like he has something urgent to say.
“I think I love you, Mydei.” His grin is plastered back onto his lips.
“You think?”
Mydei pushes him to the ground and drowns him with all his pent-up aggression and affection from his time being in love with the Deliverer.