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The war had been over for ten years.
Your father, the hero king of Sparta, had died with honor; fighting Xerxes in the name of Greece. Your country had lost much in the war against Persia, but many heroes were birthed from those fields of blood.
Themistocles of Athens stood out among the rest, his leadership having won them the war.
And by his side, the son of a friend.
Calisto was barely old enough to be considered a man then, yet he stood along side his father and the men of Greece as they fought for freedom. He gained a reputation as a fierce warrior, which he would go on to prove time and time again in the many battles that followed.
After the war, the relationship between Athens and Sparta soured. Having once fought together as allies against a common enemy, they now stood on the verge of war with one another.
So it was that your brother, the current king of Sparta, had made the decision to parley with the leaders of Athens to find some kind of solution. There were heated words thrown and plenty of wine drank, and in the end they came to an agreement.
There were debts paid and promises made, though one stood out among the rest. To assure peace between the cities, Themistocles of Athens and the King of Sparta would exchange one hostage each to reside in their enemy's city. A political prisoner, whose sole purpose was to incentivize the leadership from each city to hold to their truce lest they risk their loved ones lives.
So from Athens, they sent one of Themistocles' sons.
And from Sparta, they sent you.
---
You sat in the sunny courtyard, perched on the edge of a small fountain. Your fingers dragging gently along the rippling water as you stared down at your distorted reflection.
You had been in Athens for nearly a month already, yet still couldn't seem to feel comfortable there.
Both cities were Greek, but there were many differences between them. Their values, their beliefs; it was all so different here compared to what you had grown up with.
In Sparta, there was always an emphasis on strength. Training for soldiers started as early as six years old, and would encompass most of a young man's life.
But in Athens, things were different. They did not neglect their military, but there was so much more culture blooming in the city. Artists, philosophers, and writers all flocked to Athens, and in turn the city thrived.
You were not a stranger to the arts, but you lacked the knowledge and passion the Athenians seemed to have. It did not help that you were an outsider: An enemy from a city far more savage than their own.
You were taken in by Themistocles and his family. The man was kind to you, but you couldn't say you felt at home there. You spent most of your time inside the walls of his house, yet you never felt used to it.
You missed Sparta. You missed your family and friends, and you missed knowing your place in the world. In Sparta, you were a princess. Here, you were only a prisoner.
You had know when you left that you would never see Sparta again, but knowing something and experiencing it are two different things. You longed for home, but knew it was an impossible dream to have.
You hear the sound of sandals on stone, and look up. There, at the entrance of the courtyard, stood a man. He was handsome, his skin bronzed and his body fit. He was a fighter, that much was clear; with scars both old and fresh painted across his body.
He stared at you with his eyebrows raised, clearly surprised to see you.
"Oh um," he swallowed, "I'm looking for Themistocles, is he home?"
You stared at him a moment, then turned and pointed towards a doorway. "He's in his study," you say coolly, before looking back down at the water. You thought he would leave, but he didn't move. You glanced back up at him, and he took a step towards you.
"You're that princess from Sparta, aren't you? I've only just returned to Athens, but I had heard Themistocles had taken you in."
You stare at him, your face a mask. He took another step forward, "I'm Calisto."
You scowled slightly, the name familiar to you. You had heard about him, about his time fighting the Persians and his many successes since. In Sparta, you were taught to respect warriors like him.
But this was not Sparta.
You give him your name, but nothing more. He seemed to notice your lack of interest, "Well, I should go see Themistocles," he said, making his way across the courtyard. He stopped in the threshold, then turned back to you. "I'm sure we'll have the chance to meet again soon, princess," he said, before disappearing into the house.
---
You did see him again.
You saw him the next day, and then again the following day, and on and on for what seemed to be every day that followed. He spent so much time at Themistocles' home that you began to wonder if he even had a house of his own; and if so why he never seemed to spend time in it.
You noticed his many visits as, whenever he was around, he always made a point to seek you out.
He was persistent, that was undeniable.
You ignored him for many days. He would find you, in the courtyard or by the garden, and speak to you as if you were old friends. He smiled and joked, often laughing when you didn't. You gave him as little as possible: A nod here, a hello there. You did all you could to act aloof in hopes he would leave you alone.
But in didn't work.
---
You were sitting under a tree in the garden, reading and enjoying the silence. So you heard right away when he approached; you glanced up, but said nothing. He smiled when he saw you, waving and calling out your name. You scowled, turning your eyes back to your book.
"There you are," he says completely unfazed by your lack of attention, "Themistocles said you would be here."
He strolls over and sits down beside you, and you turn a page, continuing on as if you hadn't seen him.
"What are you reading?" he asked, leaning closer to look over your shoulder, "Anything good?"
You scowl, glancing over quickly before turning your attention back to the text.
"Euripides," you reply tartly.
"Hmm," he hummed, his eyes gliding from the paper up to stare at your face, "Sounds interesting."
You see him staring and it takes everything in you to keep your eyes from rolling. You didn't say anything more, and he continued to run his eyes along your face.
"I noticed you don't leave the house much," he said at last.
"How very astute of you," you reply sarcastically. He didn't seem to mind.
"Why is that?"
You sigh, resting the book in your lap, "Because this is Athens, and I am Spartan."
His brows knit together, as if in thought; something you weren't sure he was capable of.
"But you live in Athens now--that makes you Athenian, doesn't it?" he asked honestly.
"What?" you scowled as you turn to face him, "I am Spartan--don't ever insult me by saying otherwise."
"Why can't you be both?" He seemed completely unfazed by your annoyance.
You scoffed, but didn't have an immediate rebuttal.
"I just mean," he continued, leaning in a little closer, "You were born Spartan, but you'll spend the rest of your life here in Athens. Wouldn't you enjoy your time more if you tried to get better acquainted with Athens and its people?"
"What if I don't want to enjoy my time here; I'm a prisoner, not a tourist," you snap.
"You have to be here, but that doesn't mean you have to be a captive. It's pretty clear you're doing everything in your power not to have fun," he said with a smirk.
"If I'm no fun then why do you keep bothering me?" you asked.
"Well, when I first saw you, I thought you were beautiful; but I also thought you looked sad," he replies simply, still smiling over at you. You feel your face flush. He wasn't the first man to compliment your appearance, but it was rare they were ever so bold.
"I," you clear you throat, "I am not sad--and even if I were, what business is it of yours?"
He shrugged, "I suppose it isn't. I just thought it would be nice to see you smile."
You stood quickly, "I'm not interested in your pity."
"It's not--"
"Whatever it is, I'm not interested," you quickly cut him off, "I'm going back inside--don't follow me."
And with that you walked away, leaving him sitting alone. You thought that surely, that would put an end to his pestering.
---
The next day, he visited as he always did. He seemed unbothered by what had happened the day before, smiling and waving when he saw you as he always did.
"Good morning," he called as he walked up to you in the hall.
"It was," you say, scowling, "Are you perhaps a masochistic, or are you truly this foolish? I feel I have been quite clear that I have no interest in you or your company."
His smile didn't waver, "I thought you might enjoy a tour," he offered, completely ignoring your words.
"Tour?" you ask before you have the chance to stop yourself; engaging in his nonsense would only encouraged him further.
"Of Athens," he answered, gesturing out towards the city, "Even if you don't consider yourself Athenian, you should at least have a basic grasp of the city if you're going to be here long-term."
"Long-term?" you repeat, "You mean until I die?"
"Same thing, different words," he said with a smile.
You sigh, pinching the space between your eyebrows, "If I go, will you promise to leave me alone from now on?" He put his finger to his chin in thought.
"I'll cut it back to every other day," he offered.
"Once a week," you counter.
"Twice a week," he smirked, and you rolled your eyes.
"Fine--you can pester me twice a week, but the rest of the time you leave me be," you agree.
"It's a deal," he said, offering you his hand. You stare a moment, before accepting the handshake. His hand nearly envelops yours, and was rough with calluses from years of holding a sword. He smiled, and moved to lead you out of the house and into the city.
---
Calisto escorts you down into the market. The day was sunny, and the people of Athens were out enjoying the weather. They browsed around the market, eyeing the trinkets for sale. Everything from pottery and cookware, to jewelry and small gifts. You glance at the items as you walk by, but are careful not to stop or show interest in anything in particular.
Even if you had money, which you didn't, you would rather choke on your own tongue than give Calisto the satisfaction of believing you were actually enjoying yourself. He was frustrating enough to deal with; you could only imagine how much worse he would be if he became smug.
Calisto walked next to you, smiling as he pointed out different landmarks and buildings. He seemed to be having fun in spite of your sour demeanor. He walked slow to keep in line with you; chivalrous, though you would never give him the satisfaction of saying so.
Without thinking, your eyes lingered on the cart of a flower seller. The narcissus were lovely, and you stared at them as your mind wandered. They reminded you of Sparta; of your home and your family. You remembered them growing in the garden, picking them and weaving crowns of gold and white. You felt an ache rise in your chest, and quickly turned your gaze forward.
You were never going back; you had to accept that.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement. You turn your head, and soon break away from Calisto as you run to a nearby alley. He calls to you, following close behind.
When you reach the alleyway, you take small steps as you begin to crouch down. At your feet sat a small, tawny cat, barely older than a kitten. You slowly reach down, offering your hand to the creature.
"It's alright little one, I won't hurt you," you coo softly.
He sniffs you, then begins to nuzzle his head against your hand affectionately. You smile, petting his small body and scratching around his ears. He purred, rubbing his head against you hard enough that he loses his balance, falling over before quickly righting himself. You giggle, picking him up to place him on your lap. He curled up, the vibrations of his purrs stronger than you expect from such a tiny thing.
"He's pretty cute," Calisto smiles warmly, crouching down beside you, "Are you going to keep him?"
You glanced at him, your smile faltering.
"How can I? It's not my home, I can't just bring back strays whenever I want."
"Oh, Themistocles wouldn't mind. And if he does, the little one can stay with me--it would work out well, as it would give you a reason to visit me for a change."
You scowl, "That sounds awful; as if I would subject this poor creature to eternal captivity with you."
Calisto laughed, "You really think so terribly of me?" he asked. He moved his hand to pet the cats small head, your fingers brushing ever so slightly as he moved to scratch under its chin. The cat rolled over, it's belly out as it purred louder.
Of course you didn't; not really. He was persistent, which annoyed you, but that wasn't because you disliked him.
"I didn't say that," you mumble, your eyes returning to stare at the little creature laying in your lap.
"Are you certain, because you seem to be angry every time I speak to you. I thought you must really dislike me,," he said, though he still smiled at you as his hand rubbed the cats belly.
You scowl, "It is not a matter of like or dislike: You are an Athenian warrior, and I am a Spartan princess. We are enemies; that I am here at all is proof of that. So your pestering is pointless, and pointless things are a frustration."
"Are you really going to live the rest of your life thinking every person around you is your enemy?" he asked, his smile finally fading.
You sat quietly for a moment. Of course you were; what other option was there? Assimilate? Become Athenian and spit in the face of your father and all the kings that came before?
"Well," you say at last, moving to pick up the cat. He stares at you with big, yellow eyes, and you smile, "This little one is not my enemy, are you Pyrrhus?" you ask, holding him up as he meows. You laugh as he licks your hand.
"Pyrrhus?" Calisto repeats, "That's quite the fitting name; it suits him well."
You stand, can cradling Pyrrhus in your arms, and the two of you head back to Themistocles' home.
---
The next day Calisto visits again, he brings a gift, but not for you. He crouches in the courtyard as he cuts up small pieces of fish, placing them on the ground in front of Pyrrhus who eats them greedily. You watch him for awhile, his handsome face soft as he smiles at the feline. He was a formidable warrior--that could not be denied--so it was almost funny, watching him be so gentle with the small creature.
"Back again so soon? You're going to use up your days far too quickly at this rate," you say at last, walking up to him.
"Actually, I came to visit Pyrrhus, not you," he replied, scratching the cat's head affectionately. Your eyebrows raised in surprise.
"You...came to see the cat?" you ask in confusion.
"Yes," he confirmed, turning and smiling up at you, "What? Don't tell me you're disappointed."
Your face flushes as you scowl back at him, "Of course not! It's just such a strange thing; a man coming all the way here just to pet a cat." you snap.
"To pet and feed a cat," he corrects, "And it's not so strange; he is a very handsome creature, is he not?"
You bend down next to him, petting Pyrrhus down his back, "Well of course; anyone with eyes can see that." You smile as the cat purrs loudly. He glances over at you, his eyes soft.
"You know, this doesn't count as one of my days, since you spoke to me first," he said with a smirk.
You scowl, turning to look at him. You quickly blush, not realizing how close your faces were until you saw his blue eyes staring back at you.
You stand quickly, turning in hopes of hiding how red your face was, "Fine--but don't think I'll make that mistake twice," you say in a haughty tone, before quickly walking away.
He smiled as he watched you flee.
---
It was almost a week later when he finally showed up again. You had grown so used to him being around all the time, it felt odd not to see him everyday. You refused to believe that you missed his company; but you supposed he was a good distraction from the monotony of your days. You realized in his absence that you didn't speak much when he wasn't around. In fact, other than a few polite greetings here and there, the only one you actually spoke to was Pyrrhus. And as cute a companion as he was, he couldn't exactly hold a conversation.
It was a sunny afternoon when Calisto visited again. You sat under the tree in the garden, teasing Pyrrhus with a long piece of cloth you dangled above him. You smile softly as he batted at it with his small paws. You hear Calisto approach, and look up to see him carrying a basket full of narcissus flowers.
"That looks like fun," he said as he sat down beside you, "I didn't know you did fun."
You roll your eyes as he smiles mischievously, and your gaze falls to the flowers.
"Are those for Pyrrhus? If so, I'm afraid you wasted your money; he won't enjoy them as much as the fish."
He smiled wide, "Did the princess just make a joke?" You blush and look away, scowling, which made him laugh lightly. After a moment, he lifts the basket and holds it out to you, "Of course they're for you; you seemed so jealous last time, I thought I should bring you something on my next visit."
"I'm not--" you stop yourself, clearing your throat. You turn your nose up, but take the basket from him, "Thank you," you said politely.
"You like them, right? I saw you looking at them at the market," he said, his eyes soft as he looked at you.
You place the basket between you, picking up one of the flowers and twirling it between your fingers.
"They remind me of Sparta; we had them growing in the garden at home. My mother and I used to make them into crowns during festivals," you reply, suddenly more candid as you stared at the bloom in your hand.
He watched you as you gazed longingly at the flower. He reached into the basket, pulling out a flower, "Can you show me?"
You looked at him in surprise, a hint of humor on your voice, "Show you how to make flower crowns?" He nodded, and you smiled in spite of yourself, "Well, I suppose so."
You took another flower, demonstrating the technique for weaving them together, grabbing more flowers as you worked. He tried to follow along, but when you were both done his crown looked wonky and misshapen compared to yours.
"I fear I've wasted your flowers, and your lesson," he said apologetically, holding up the crown to show you.
You smile, "It isn't so terrible for your first try; I've made many, so it comes easy to me now. Like most things, it just takes practice."
He smiled back, looking down at Pyrrhus as he napped lazily in your lap. He sets his own crown aside and gently takes yours from your hands, placing it atop your head.
"Well, yours is beautiful at least," he smiled, looking into your eyes, "It suits you."
You blush, looking away. You see his crown lying in the grass.
"Yours isn't so bad, really," you say, picking it up and placing it onto his messy brown hair.
He leans a little closer, "So, you're saying it suits me, then?" You blush.
"Yes, I suppose so," you reply, avoiding his gaze. He reaches out, tilting your chin to face him. He slowly leans in, giving you time to back away.
You stay completely still, and he moves forward, presses his lips to yours. It's a simple kiss; soft and warm. You lean into it just a little, and you feel the corners of his mouth lift. He deepens the kiss, tilting your head to move with him.
When you finally pull back, your faces stay close. He smiles as you blush back at him.
"Would it be alright if I returned tomorrow with more flowers? I'd like to practice, if you'll continue to teach me."
You nodded in reply, your face red, and he grinned. He leaned in for another kiss, and you felt yourself relax into him.
You supposed that, for an Athenian, he wasn't so terrible.