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Chapter Text

Word of Castrum Kremnos’ new king spreads quickly after many bore witness to the two Kremnoan factions clashing in battle: one side fighting for the rightful heir to the throne, the banished Crown Prince Mydeimos, and the other side defending the Mad King Eurypon’s claim.

The story goes that a month after Mydeimos was born, an oracle wandered into the palace and whispered a fate of being usurped and killed by Mydeimos into the king’s ear, driving him mad with paranoia. Unable to stop the king, Queen Gorgo gave her life to buy time for her loyal retainers to escape with Mydeimos, and the king fell further and further into madness in his relentless but fruitless search for his son. 

It was years after that, that parts of the Kremnoan forces started being picked off, whether in battle or desertion, and whispers spread around of the lost prince coming for vengeance and his claim. It drove Eurypon to desperation, conquering any nations and villages around him in an attempt to gather resources and manpower. It turned him into a ruthless tyrant, with so much blood on his hands that it never washed off. 

And yet, his people dwindled still, his food supply caravans disappeared before they could reach Castrum Kremnos, and anyone of importance Eurypon captured from his conquests vanished. There was tension in the air, and the world waited as the fate of one of the most powerful nations stretched between two opposing forces. 

It was a bright sunny day when Mydeimos came for him. Exactly 18 years after his birth, on the day of what should have been his coming of age ceremony, Mydeimos clashed with the man who murdered his mother in the name of a prophecy Mydeimos would gladly make come true. 

The battle did not take long. The main Kremnoan forces were starving and their king half-delirious from paranoia and gaunt from hunger. Eurypon crumpled under the weight of Mydeimos’ gauntlets, and opened his mouth to say words Mydeimos would never hear, as the prince seized the mad king’s head and brutally ripped it off his shoulders, allowing the warmth of royal blood to splatter his face and chest. He roared and brandished his war trophy, and the Kremnoans bowed to him, Mydeimos the Undying, their new king crowned in blood.  

And now this new king was headed for Okhema. 

Why? Because where Castrum Kremnos had power and vassal nations, Okhema stood unique in its independence, underneath no one yet not above anyone either. Incredibly advanced in technology and kept safe under the brilliant leadership of Lady Goldweaver and her lead researcher the Heretical Scholar.

After a deep discussion with Krateros, his most loyal, Mydeimos decided to extend an offer of alliance. Castrum Kremnos’ protection for an exchange of knowledge, although everyone was aware that it was more of a guarantee that Castrum Kremnos would not lay a hand on them while they were still going around conquering areas around them. 

A meeting was accepted, under the condition that Mydeimos would swear an oath under Nikador’s name to not shed blood while he was in Okhema’s walls. He sneered, no one had ever dared try to chain him, and he was of an opinion to simply take, as he was used to doing. It was only the tempering of his mentor that stopped him. 

“Your Majesty, while we would be able to conquer Okhema, what made it possible for Okhema to flourish thus far was the leadership of Lady Goldweaver and the brilliance of her lead researcher Anaxagoras. Without the willing cooperation of those two, Castrum Kremnos could enjoy the momentary wealth of resources that would simply deplete.” And there lay the biggest reasoning for an alliance. 

The soil of Castrum Kremnos could not flourish. Others called it divine punishment, Mydeimos called it an unfortunate circumstance of their land. While they could supply themselves with their vassal nations, it simply was not a lasting solution. 

So, Mydeimos agreed to a meeting, swore under Nikador’s name that he would come in peace, and left for Okhema with a small crew of his most loyal and trusted men. 

He meets with Lady Goldweaver, the Scholar Anaxagoras, the Heir to Okhema Castorice and a nun of Kephale. 

Normally, Mydeimos would spare no thought for someone of the cloth, but when a sliver of wind blows through an open window and lifts the white lace veil off the nun’s face… Mydeimos feels the stars align. 

What a lovely face. Hair white as freshly fallen snow, pale pink lips, long eyelashes, and those eyes… Oasis blue eyes, a gold sun imprinted in his irises. He looked serene, divine, like something untouchable and holy. Even standing off to the side, quiet and unassuming, the sun shone its rays on him and bathed him in golden light.

Mydeimos wanted to bring him to ruin underneath him. 

Well now. There was a change of plans: he would either walk out of the city with an alliance and a bride, or he would walk out of this city with blood on his hands and a bride in his arms. Sure, it would be in his best interest to ensure an alliance, but Mydeimos was never one to think too deeply before he acted on his desires, that was reserved for his most brilliant, Hephaestion–who took one look at him, followed his stare, and sighed, nodding. 

Mydeimos smiled, and when those blue eyes flickered up to meet his, he felt satisfaction curl up in him at the caution and curiosity lingering in them.

The meeting passed in a blur, he had no interest in weaving words of deception and treading caution in politics. His right hand would take care of it, as Mydeimos’ will was his will. He put his trust in Hephaestion and spent the entirety of the meeting gazing upon his would-be bride. The little nun was stood at the right of Lady Goldweaver, slightly behind her seat. His head was bowed, hands clasped in front of his abdomen with a white and gold rosary twining around delicate fingers. 

Mydeimos knew he could feel the weight of his regard, as he started fidgeting around just the littlest bit, his fingers twitching anxiously. He could see the veiled head lightly lifting up before tucking back down, the palest red dusting his ears, and Mydeimos wanted to bite him. 

A loud exclamation broke through his musing and he saw the nun’s head fully shoot up and his body stiffen. Oh, Mydeimos supposed Hephaestion finally got to the main point. 

“Ridiculous!” The mint-haired scholar hissed out. “He is a nun–his vows have already been made–how could he be made a bride?” The Lady Goldweaver had stilled, her dulled green-gold eyes frigid and her face stiff. 

The Heir Castorice, he could tell, was still not very experienced in leadership nor did she have the confidence of one who would be the ruler of a place like Okhema. Her face had gone even paler than her complexion, and her eyes were widened with concern as they flickered to the frozen nun. 

It was clear from the startlement of everyone in this room not a Kremnoan, that this was not something they had expected. Hephaestion smiled, a blasé little thing, “Kephale is not our Titan. The vows His nuns make to Him have no hold in Castrum Kremnos, it would not be an issue amongst our people.”

The Heretical Scholar’s eye narrowed, a fierce look upon his face. “The rules of your nation do not hold with us either. Kephale is our Titan, the vows made in His name hold. A nun will not be your king’s bride.”

Mydeimos frowned. Hm, this was not the reaction he had expected. A nun was a nun, there were plenty of them, especially for a Titan like Kephale. And yet… the reactions of those three… how interesting. 

Still, very irritating. Mydeimos simply wanted his bride. What was one body in the face of an alliance, an exchange of power and protection with technology and resources?

They kept going back and forth, the Heretical Scholar becoming more incited and Hephaestion insisting that, really, there was no need for worry. Any bride chosen by their king would be treated well and their past would not affect their people’s perception. 

While it was amusing to watch Hephaestion having fun making the Heretical Scholar angry, Mydeimos was growing annoyed. This was taking too long, Mydeimos should have already had a betrothed by now. 

He sighed and leaned forward, staring directly at Lady Goldweaver as the room fell silent, listening to the first words he would speak. “Lady Goldweaver,” Mydeimos said, his voice low and demanding, “I am willing to make concessions, I am willing to negotiate and allow you the upper hand for some portions of our alliance–I am not willing to be refused my bride. This meeting will end one of two ways: I walk out of here with an alliance between our two nations and my bride, or I walk out of here with your blood on my hands and my bride. There is no other way.”

The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted as Mydeimos’ threat settled into the air. There was a soft sound of swords being pulled from sheathes as the Okheman knights tensed. 

Mydeimos leaned back and looked at the nun. He didn’t care about their reactions, only this one’s. No one in this room–in this nation –could hold their own against him, and certainly not with his best surrounding him. 

He could see his bride shaking, hands clasped together. He could only assume he was praying to Kephale, since the veil still blocked his face. But if he had read him correctly… aha. There it was. 

The nun bent down low to whisper in Lady Goldweaver’s ear and she tensed, her mouth pursing just the slightest. 

There was a small back and forth before the nun shook his head and straightened, looking directly at Mydeimos. Lady Goldweaver raised her hand to stop him and the nun gently placed his on top of hers before pushing it down slowly. 

“I… I accept.” His voice was soft and shook at the beginning before firming up. Mydeimos smiled, letting the sweet melody of his bride’s lilting tone seep into him. How beautiful. Neither too deep, nor too high. Smooth, gentle, sweet. Mydeimos couldn’t wait to hear it in his bed and by his side the rest of their lives together. 

“Phainon–!” The Heir Castorice exclaimed, hands crumpling her dress in distress as the Heretical Scholar whipped his head around. 

“You–!”

The nun–Phainon… how pretty a name–shook his head. “You have heard their words. My-my hand is a non-negotiable.”

Hephaestion slid his way back into the conversation with a brilliant smile. “Not just a non-negotiable, my would-be queen, it is the only thing that makes this alliance move forward!” 

The Okhemans looked like they wanted to leap upon the Kremnoan group, and Mydeimos almost hoped they would. It would make this dull event so much more exciting for him. Lady Goldweaver held her hand up and the room settled. “Calm. Phainon has made his decision and it will be respected.”

Mydeimos gestured with his hand and Phainon made his way over, standing nervously at his side. Mydeimos narrowed his eyes at the veil blocking his lovely face from view and wrapped his hand around a delicate wrist, tugging the nun sideways onto his lap. From this position, he only had to shift his eyes to see his bride’s face, a pink flush on his cheeks and nervously shifting eyes. 

The meeting resumed and Mydeimos fully stopped paying attention, letting Hephaestion lead the talk. There was something far more important now, and he caressed his bride’s side, one hand trailing up and down slowly and sensually while the other massaged a plush thigh.

Mydeimis frowned at the cloth blocking him from touching his bride’s pale skin and reached up, ripping a hole in the cloth where Mydeimos had been caressing him. The sound was exceedingly loud and all talking ceased as they turned to look at the both of them, the nun frozen on Mydeimos’s lap and completely beet red while Mydeimos shamelessly slid his hand inside the hole to squeeze around cool soft skin. Mmm, much better, his wife should never be clothed against him. 

There was finally a sign of anger on the immovable Lady Goldweaver's face, Heir Castorice looked distraught, and the Heretical Scholar looked as if he might be the one to pull a weapon. 

Phainon shook in his hold and shrunk into himself, his arms coming up to cross his chest as he tucked his head underneath Mydeimos’ chin. How cute, the embarrassment his bride felt. 

That would be trained out of him once they went back to Castrum Kremnos. Affection was out in the open there and celebrated. How could Mydeimos let his people think he did not love his queen, how would he be able to hold himself back when his queen was finally in robes fitting of his station? 

The soft thin silks that showed the skin barely hidden underneath, the slits in dresses and sleeves, the careful tease of a chest swaying as one moved, it would be impossible for Mydeimos to withhold his affections. 

Hephaestion barely got the meeting back on track, and just minutes after, Mydeimos and his people stood up, an alliance freshly signed in Hephaestion’s tunic and a bride cradled firmly in Mydeimos’ grip. 

As they made their way out, Mydeimos stopped in front of the door, his bride clutching onto his neck and hiding his face in his shoulders. “A word of advice, Lady Goldweaver. It would be in your best interest not to have me swear under Nikador’s name. I have no faith in that fallen Titan, and it would not besmirch my honor to break oath.” 

The Okhemans were correct in their belief that Kremnoans valued honor, and most Kremnoans would honor Nikador–but they had made one miscalculation. Mydeimos held no respect for that fallen Titan, only his mother. If he truly was going to be denied his bride, Mydeimos would have killed them all and taken him anyway. 

There was a heavy silence. “I will keep your words in mind, King Mydeimos.” Aglaea said, voice smooth without inflections and low in grim realization. 

The doors swung shut behind him and he chuckled. What a profitable day. Not only did he ensure his nation’s technological advancements, he also got the prettiest little thing in his arms now. 

He kept Phainon in his arms the entire way home, and when they arrived, he set off for their bedroom, his people taking one look at the impatience on his face and laughing. 

“Come find me after you’re done with our queen and I’ll fill you in on our alliance.” Hephaestion waved him off with a snicker and Mydeimos grinned. 

“I’ll come find you in a week then, old friend.” Mydeimos said, his bride tensing in his hold at his words. He caressed him in comfort and left to the jeers of his confidants behind him. 

It was only when Mydeimos laid his bride down on his large, soft bed when Phainon spoke, voice trembling. “How… how are we consummating the-the marriage now? What of the vows, the wedding?” He sat up and scooted back until his back hit the head of the bed, body curled up and fingers tangled in his blue habit. 

Mydeimos lifted an eyebrow, reaching forward to grab an ankle and yanking Phainon back down, a soft cry leaving pink lips as his habit crumbled upwards, reveal pale, thick thighs to Mydeimos’ hungry gaze. 

“Castrum Kremnos has… different ways.” He said, voice low with desire. His hands crept up, pushing his fingers deep into Phainon’s thighs until they sunk into plush flesh. His thumbs slowly rubbed in circles, watching Phainon’s thighs give way to them. “Once the king has declared his bride, they are married in the eyes of the people. The wedding is only to show off the charm of the one who has captivated him, to declare possession of his queen publicly.”

Phainon flinched, blue eyes shaking and trying to subtly move his thighs out of Mydeimos’ dishonest touch. “But…”

Mydeimos slid one hand up to the center of Phainon’s habit and dug his fingers into the fabric, ripping it off and watching in delight as Phainon’s flesh was bared to him. 

His full chest, soft and white, spilled out and Mydeimos leaned forward to capture a sweet pink nub in his mouth, ignoring the hands gripping his hair in shock and trying to tug him off. “Stop–!” Phainon gasped as Mydeimos bit down, pushing him down until he lay on their bed, one hand reaching up to play with his other tit and his hand still on Phainon’s thigh sliding up. 

He touched wet heat and paused, Phainon having covered his face with his hands as he wept softly. 

Leaving one last nip to the red nub, Mydeimos drew back up and looked down in fascination, gazing on the gift he had missed in the impatience to get his mouth on his wife’s breasts. 

A pale, cleanly shaven cunt lay twitching in the cool air, a slight wetness shining on closed lips. “Gorgeous.” Mydeimos murmured, licking his lips. His thumb lay on the seam of Phainon’s cunt, sinking in just the slightest to inch it open. More wetness spilled out and Mydeimos swallowed dryly.  

Phainon’s legs twitched and he tried to move away, Mydeimos stopping him with a firm hand pressing on his belly. “I am your husband, you have no need to hide your beauty from me.” Mydeimos licked his thumb and tasted the sweetness of nectar, then hooked his hands under Phainon’s knees and bent them towards their owner, pushing until Phainon was bared to him. 

Phainon shot his hands down to cover himself, slender fingers blocking a vision of heaven from Mydeimos’ devouring gaze. 

While Mydeimos enjoyed the obscene view of his wife touching himself, he was not happy with Phainon denying him his right. 

“Remove your hands, wife.” Mydeimos rumbled into the air, and when Phainon refused with a shake of his head, he bared his teeth and leaned down to sink his fangs into Phainon’s inner thigh, just scant inches from where he was covered and hard enough to bleed. 

Phainon cried out in pain, thighs twitching and fingers pressing down stronger. But Mydeimos could smell more nectar spilling out, could see the wetness seeping between pale digits, and he licked his lips, tasting the sweet iron lingering in his mouth. 

So his wife enjoyed his mouth? Well, Mydeimos would be more than happy to offer it to him in and out of their bedroom. He leaned in more to lick at Phainon’s fingers, tongue lapping up the spilled nectar and creeping underneath to taste just a drop from the source. 

Phainon moaned above his head, strained and quiet, and Mydeimos wanted to hear more. He bit Phainon’s fingers, not enough to bleed, but enough to have Phainon jerking them away and leaving a treasure to his eyes. 

Mydeimos sunk his face into his wife’s pussy and laved his tongue up the seam, pushing it open to dig into hot flesh and wetness. Phainon arched his back, hips pressing into Mydeimos’ face as he shook, a sweet whine pulling from his throat. 

Mydeimos licked into him over and over again, fucking his tongue deeper into his wife and bringing a hand down to gather up slick before pressing it against his wife’s swollen clit, rubbing circles against the nub and drawing sweet cries into the air. 

He drank like a man dying of thirst, swallowing down scores of nectar, the overflow seeping from his mouth and onto his jaw, his neck, dripping onto their sheets in a sticky mess. Phainon’s thighs slammed shut against his face and Mydeimos squeezed them around him tighter, happily suffocating in his wife's cunt and thighs as liquid gushed from Phainon’s pussy and into his mouth. 

He drank it all down and when Phainon’s thighs dropped onto the bed weakly, twitching in little aftershocks, he leaned back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking it clean. 

Phainon lay there, face tilted to the side and mouth open as he gasped for air, drool trailing down his mouth and eyes glassy and wet with spilled tears. A pink flush bloomed over his skin and Mydeimos had never seen a more beautiful sight. 

But he could feel the strain of his impatient cock and decided it was time to fulfill their consummation. He had given his wife the first pleasure, and now came for his own. He reached down and undid his pants, the sound of clinking metal attracting Phainon’s attention and he weakly turned his head. 

“Hold yourself open for your husband.” Mydeimos demanded, holding his heavy cock in one hand and pinning his wife’s thigh onto the bed, keeping him from closing his legs. 

Phainon froze and he cried out, drool running down his chin and cunt twitching, wet with spit and slick. “I-I don’t–”

Mydeimos tilted his head, predatory eyes watching the heave of Phainon’s chest, his bitten tits swaying like temptation. 

“The alliance is based solely on you being my bride.” Mydeimos reminded him, grinning as Phainon snapped his mouth shut. “You volunteered yourself willingly.”

Phainon sniffled, eyes welling up and biting his bottom lip. After a pause, he took a deep breath and reached down with shaking hands, gently hooking his index fingers on either side of his lips and tugging himself open to his husband’s wanton eyes. 

Soft, pink flesh revealed itself, oozing arousal and softly contracting around emptiness. The longer Mydeimos stared at bared flesh, the more it spit out slick. 

“Stop… stop looking…” Phainon pleaded, eyes squeezed shut in humiliation.

Mydeimos licked his lips, leaning forward to envelop Phainon’s body. He guided his cock to Phainon’s opening and whispered into his ears. “How could I not, when I see how much my queen's cunt aches for his husband’s cock and seed?”

Before Phainon could say anything, a pained cry escaped his throat as Mydeimos sunk into hot, wet heat. Mydeimos groaned softly, his wife was still so tight, his pussy squeezing around him in a death grip, like he couldn’t get enough, like he was hungry for the seed Mydeimos was more than willing to pour into his untouched womb. 

“ Hurts ,” Phainon wheezed out, face red with strain and legs shaking, his hands letting go of his cunt to grip Mydeimos’ hips and trying to push him away to no avail. “ Please , husband, please slow–!”

Mydeimos pushed further in, feeling a soft give and Phainon wailed, seizing up. The smell of blood teased the air and Mydeimos smiled slowly, smugly. 

He was the first, and would be the only one, who entered his wife. He had taken his virginity and the proof was in the redness tinting slick pink. 

“You’re doing so well, so brilliantly, my wife.” Mydeimos purred into sweaty hair, pressing soft kisses to salty skin and massaging Phainon’s waist. “Just a bit more, and you will have all of me.”

Phainon breathed roughly, retching quietly as Mydeimos just. kept. sliding in, forcing his way into Phainon without pause. He stopped trying to push Mydeimos away and gripped the bedsheets underneath him, eyes squeezed shut and jaw tensed. 

Mydeimos bottomed out, his hips pressed flush against Phainon’s groin and he tilted his head down in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut and enjoying just how much his wife squeezed around him. 

Phainon's neck was right under his mouth, sweaty and pale and so, so pretty. Mydeimos bit down and purred when Phainon cried out, his body seizing around him. 

Mydeimos’ hips twitched forward and, in response to his wife’s quiet moan, canted his hips in and out, his teeth still latched onto flesh. Punched out moans escaped Phainon’s closed mouth and Mydeimos started thrusting harder, slamming his cock against a tight little opening inside of Phainon, grinding his hips until he felt the slightest give. 

Phainon reacted to his body giving in by clawing at Mydeimos’ back, drawing blood as he twisted his body to escape from the pleasure Mydeimos gave him. 

Mydeimos bore down on him more, sinking his full weight onto Phainon’s body and forcing him to stop moving, grinding his hips again and again until his cock slipped in with a sudden pop. 

Phainon wailed, head slamming down onto the bed and hips arching, trying to get away but only pushing himself deeper onto his husband’s cock. 

Mydeimos groaned, an even tighter heat enveloping him. “Wife, your womb has accepted me, and it will accept my seed. How many children will you give to me?” He could already imagine their progeny running around the palace, the swell of his wife’s belly, the children cradled in their arms, and the plug that filled his wife’s cunt, making sure his seed would never go to waste. 

“None!” Phainon gritted out, his voice ragged and still so beautiful. “I won’t give you any .” He was crying, hands clasping together and bringing them up to his mouth and whispering in a tongue Mydeimos could not recognize. 

Mydeimos laughed. His wife still had faith? Kephale would not protect him, he had been given to Mydeimos, had laid in Mydeimos’ bed without complaint, and had taken his cock with little fight. 

Mydeimos pressed his lips to reddened ears and whispered. “Your place is not knelt in front of altars, praying to a Titan that won’t answer. It is to be by my side, to be in my bed, to be filled with my cock and seed, and to birth my heirs.” Phainon’s eyes were squeezed shut, tears slipping down his pretty face and hands clutched together in prayer as he mumbled for salvation. 

Mydeimos chuckled, breaking Phainon’s prayer by sliding one hand between his clasped ones, locking their fingers together as he pressed them into the bed beside Phainon’s head, using his other hand to press against his bride’s throat and tightening his grip little by little until brilliant blue fluttered open from beneath long lashes, eyes blurred in reluctant pleasure and a creeping realization that he would never escape Mydeimos’ oppressive possession as seed filled his womb with searing heat.

“You will have no other god but me. There is no other choice.”

Chapter Text

Weeks passed as Phainon started to slowly settle into his new role as Queen of Castrum Kremnos and wife to Mydeimos the Undying, before Mydeimos finally brought up something that had caught his attention to Hephaestion. 

“Old friend,” he said, “Okhema has sent more than they needed. Again. The alliance was drafted in their favor, and yet they send more to us than we have contracted for.”

Hephaestion, upon hearing his words, lifted his lips in a smug smirk, mischief dancing around his eyes. “Isn’t it wonderful? Initially, I never intended to give them so much over us, but thanks to your selfish actions, it gave me greater insight to them.” He nudged Mydeimos jokingly and the king rolled his eyes. 

If anyone else spoke to him in that manner, he’d have their tongues ripped out, but his closest circle were allocated exceptions no one else was. 

“Enlighten your selfish king, then.” He said in exasperation. 

“As we were negotiating, I kept thinking to myself ‘Why on earth are they reacting so explicitly to this marriage?’ While our queen truly is an exceptional beauty, he was but a nun in a sea of Kephale’s nuns. That’s when it hit me. A nun of Kephale had no place in a meeting between two nation’s rulers. The ruler, the heir, and the second most influential in their nation? Understandable. But a nun ? Not even a head priest, but a nun ?” Hephaestion took a deep drink of wine before continuing. 

“That’s when it hit me. The way they all looked at him, their distress at our demand, the worry and anxiety as our queen accepted your proposal, that Lady Goldweaver allowed a nun to silence her . They love him, far more than just a nun. They care for him, greatly . Rulers like that? They would never let him suffer in another nation. We could have demanded nothing of their resources and they would have sent it to us anyways, out of their own choice . It would have been excused, perhaps as a show of their willingness to this alliance, and they wouldn’t be able to ask us anything in exchange even if they wanted to, because they chose to gift those to us of their own will.”

Mydeimos… well Mydeimos could only laugh, head thrown back and loud. Okhema had their hands tied. They could only receive what Castrum Kremnos degreed in their alliance and nothing more. They could not ask for anything more, because everything extra had been given freely. 

“Incredible work yet again, Hephaestion.” Mydeimos said, clinking their glasses together. 

Hephaestion shrugged, a sneer on his mouth. “They all think us barbarians, that we live only for conquering and bloodshed. They never suspect that we aim for other things.”

That was the way of Castrum Kremnos. Their love of combat was not false, but hidden underneath it was the enjoyment of extending a ‘choice’ that really wasn’t a choice at all. But, well, if the other party offered willingly, who were they to deny it?

“I will admit, I almost slipped up in our negotiations.” Hephaestion grimaced. “That Heretical Scholar truly is brilliant. I’ve never had to tread so carefully in debate before, but his care for our queen made him distracted. Every time he came close to cornering me, his eyes would flicker to our queen and he would falter.”

“Hmph.” Mydeimos grunted. “Their concern is unwarranted. I would never treat my queen with anything less than devotion, and neither would Castrum Kremnos.”

Hephaestion nodded. “Indeed. While it is true that the king is our offense and power, the queen is the one who nourishes our nation, who births the ones who come after us. How could we ever treat them with anything less than reverence? They are the heart of our nation.”

“And speaking of our heart, where is our lovely queen on this sunny day?” Hephaestion wiggled his eyebrows at Mydeimos and the king grinned behind his cup. 

“Recovering. He is still not used to receiving so much love throughout each day. And he is still not used to such public displays of love either. Though his stamina is lacking, he is improving.” Mydeimos licked his lips, heat pooling in his abdomen. 

Phainon truly was a lovely sight to behold, especially in pleasure. The sweet pink flush of his skin, the way his stunning eyes melted in teary pleasure, the tightness of his cunt, and the nectar that dripped so easily when Mydeimos’ touch glanced him. Even lovelier was his voice. Honey-soaked moans and panting breaths, the pleading for Mydeimos to grant mercy, the cries pitching up when seed flooded his womb, and the way he shook as their mixed releases stained his thighs and whatever surface Mydeimos had him pinned on.

Hmmm… Mydeimos was of a mind to pleasure his wife again. Truly, what a bewitching siren he had claimed. Even when not in his grasp, all Mydeimos thought of was him. 

He drained the rest of his drink and stood up, shameless at his arousal tenting his pants. Hephaestion rolled his eyes and waved him away. 

Mydeimos walked through the halls of his palace to the room where his greatest treasure lay in their marital bed, blanket between his legs and covering half his chest. 

Phainon breathed softly, face relaxed and at peace. His neck was littered in red marks and bites, his tits swollen and bitten. His hips, his upper arms and wrists, his thighs and ankles, all bruised with Mydeimos’ handprints and deepening to a beautiful purple.

The fabric between his legs was slightly darkened, wet with liquid Mydeimos could already taste seeping out of his wife. 

He drew closer, fingers gently hooking onto the blanket and drawing it down, baring more and more tantalizing flesh to Mydeimos’ eyes. No skin on Phainon had been left untouched, every inch of him had Mydeimos’ brand, and Mydeimos revelled in the sweet sigh that left Phainon’s lips as he gently cupped his leaking cunt. 

He knelt between his queen’s legs, nudging his thighs open, and leaned over him, an arm next to his queen’s head to keep from crushing Phainon underneath his weight. 

“Wife,” he whispered, fingers teasingly pushing in and out, massaging wet walls and drawing out more noises. “Your devoted husband has come to worship you.” Phainon stirred a bit, his eyebrows scrunching down and he shifted, hips canting upwards and releasing Mydeimos’ fingers from his warmth. 

“Nng… no more,” Phainon murmured, hands reaching up to press against Mydeimos’ chest, not that it moved him. He settled back down and drifted off again, hands dropping down to rest on his abdomen. 

Mydeimos hummed, leaning down to press kisses onto Phainon’s cheeks, his ears, his neck, paying close attention to the cute apple in the center of his throat. It was framed prettily, sitting in the middle of Mydeimos’ deepest bite. He had given it to Phainon on the day of their consummation, and renewed it every other week when it started to heal over. 

It was well on its way to scarring permanently, and Mydeimos couldn’t wait to see the silver tint that would grace his moon-blessed queen everyday. 

“Wife,” he sighed again, hand still wet with release sliding up Phainon’s body to his chest, rubbing the mixture over a swollen tit and watching Phainon twitch. “My beautiful, enchanting queen…”

He freed his cock and pressed his hips down, the tip gently nudging Phainon’s cunt open, and sank into him, each inch being gripped by tight warmth. 

Phainon gasped, back arching and eyes fluttering open, dazed and confused. “Nngh…!” His eyes met Mydeimos’ and he whimpered, hands clutching the sheets beside his head. “Ah… you-you just had me–!” His eyes rolled up as Mydeimos set a punishing speed, his hips drawing out to slap harshly against Phainon’s cunt, the wet sounds of his slick seeping out and splattering onto their thighs and bed. 

“And yet I will never have enough,” Mydeimos purred out, relentless in his quest to wrench climax after climax from his wife’s willing body. He ground his hips, battering against Phainon’s cervix, the opening already used to being violated by Mydeimos every day. 

Phainon writhed at the sensation, knees drawing up to press his legs closed, only to be stopped by the body between them. “ Too much ,” he mumbled out, eyes already slipping down tears, “um, sore…!” 

Mydeimos moaned, his cock inching deeper and deeper inside. “When you take, I will grant you rest. But for now,” he bottomed out fully and Phainon wailed, thrashing around him, “I will have you in your entirety.” 

His wife’s pussy seized and squirted around him, and Mydeimos could do nothing but join him in ecstasy, filling his womb with more seed, the excess seeping out from where they were connected and plopping down onto the mess already staining their sheets beyond repair.  

Panting filled the air and Mydeimos kissed his wife, nipping at his bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside to lick around his mouth, teasing his tongue and sliding down his throat until Phainon choked. Weak hands shook as they pushed against his shoulders and Mydeimos only separated their lips when Phainon’s hands pounded on him frantically. 

They parted with a slick sound and Phainon gasped, turning his head to cough wetly. “You–!” He bit his lip and glared up at Mydeimos, who could only see it as an obscene tease. 

Wet, blue eyes still hazy with pleasure, on a face flushed by orgasm and their shared spit painting his lips and cheeks…

Mydeimos’ arousal came back to life and Phainon stiffened, his eyes shaking. “Wait,” he said, hands clutching Mydeimos’ shoulders. “Just a moment of reprieve, please.”

Mydeimos hummed, one of his hands sliding to rest on Phainon’s stomach, over where their child would grow, and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I hope we receive happy tidings soon.” He smiled at Phainon and Phainon closed his eyes with a whimper. 

Chapter Text

Phainon didn’t think his life would end up this way. From a country-side boy displaced by Kremnoan forces led by the Mad King Eurypon, to finding a second family in the ones who took him in after a young Castorice found him unconscious outside of Okhema, to a nun vowed to Kephale in an attempt to give back to the place that filled him with happiness again… and now to the Queen of Castrum Kremnos and the wife of Mydeimos the Undying. 

The moment he heard the demand from the king’s Hand, he had to pause. Surely he heard wrong? Surely… surely his hand hadn't been placed on the negotiating table?

And yet, throughout the meeting, he felt the heavy regard on him, predatory eyes scanning his body up and down. He thought it was from derision at the sight of a mere nun standing where decisions were made by people who could change the world with just an action. 

But that single sentence changed the entirety of the meeting. It was heavier and more daunting, as he felt Aglaea’s rage seeping from her tensed shoulders, the worry from Castorice’s quick glances, and the vitriol in every sentence Anaxa spat at them. 

Then it was just fear. Phainon thought they had been safe– all of them thought themselves safe from the oath Mydeimos took, but the cold look in his eyes, all bestial desire when he looked at Phainon, that was a very real threat.  

It was just him, in exchange for safety and protection. What was one orphaned country boy compared to an entire nation? Phainon didn’t even have to think before stepping up and accepting the demand. 

He could only apologize to his second family in his mind. He never wanted to leave them this early, in this way, and as he was carried from the meeting room in his betrothed's possessive hold, he feared he would never see them or Okhema again.

But life was surprisingly nice for him in Castrum Kremnos. Yes, he had to endure Mydeimos’ seemingly endless desire for him countless times a day, but when his… husband was not taking him, Phainon was allowed to explore the palace. 

Phainon had been to the training grounds, saw how fiercely the warriors fought, and how terribly strong Mydeimos was, and he would never be able to bring himself to regret his decision. 

Okhema held firm with Aglaea’s leadership and Anaxa’s inventions, but there was only so much it could do in the face of overwhelming strength and, as he saw Hephaestion from the corner of his eye, deceptive cunning. 

“My queen!” Hephaestion greeted him, a friendly smile on his face. 

That was another thing. Phainon expected harsh treatment, prejudice from warriors whose king arbitrarily took a nun as his queen seemingly on a whim, subtly neglectful treatment from servants, maybe even mocking from Mydeimos’ closest men. 

Yet everyone he came into contact with had shown nothing but reverence, gazing upon him with admiration and complimenting his beauty, eager to fulfill anything he might desire, to fetch him food and drink–Titans, he even had to stop a guard from carrying him around once when they saw him limping in the halls. It was too embarrassing to admit that he just emerged from being taken by Mydeimos and could still feel the phantom cock in his plugged up cunt, even if he knew that everyone in the palace was aware of it. 

Everyone was so nice, and it was incredibly jarring and confusing for Phainon, who only ever heard horror stories about the barbaric Kremnoans who thrived off pillaging and conquering and taking.

He blinked and Hephaestion looked at him in concern. “Your Majesty?” Phainon jolted back to himself and flushed, smiling at him in apology.

“Ah, forgive me, Hephaestion. I was simply… lost in my thoughts. Good afternoon.”

The king’s Hand smiled back after observing his face and nodded to the warriors. “What a sight it is, even growing up with this all my life, it still amazes me how devoted our people are to strengthening ourselves.”

Phainon hummed in agreement. “Yes, Kremnoans are known for their power, and it’s fascinating to see it in action.”

There was a teasing light in Hephaestion's eyes and Phainon braced himself. Yes, Hephaestion was the friendliest, but he was also the most crude of Mydeimos’ confidants. “Ohoho, but I’m sure you ‘see’ the most powerful in action quite often, no?” Phainon couldn’t help the bright flush that overtook his face completely and Hephaestion chuckled at his reaction. 

The conversation ended when Mydeimos spotted him standing there and ended his one-sided spar, walking over to draw Phainon against his sweaty bare body and kissing him deeply, groping him where he could as Hephaestion protested next to them. “Oh selfish king!” He rolled his eyes, “I can barely speak to our queen before you’re on him like a lion in rut.” Mydeimos waved him off and Hephaestion stuck his tongue at him before looking at Phainon and bowing. 

“I do hope we get to speak more without your lustful half on top of you.” He bounced off, leaving Phainon to Mydeimos’ affections. 

He’d also walked through the gardens, seemingly the only place blooming with life, a monument to the king’s late mother who started it from one seed to the meadow it was today. It was also the only place Mydeimos wouldn’t take him, out of respect for his mother's sanctuary, and Phainon couldn’t help his heart softening when he’d been told the reason. Familial relationships were so dear to him, and to know that Mydeimos could hold one in such esteem was another crack in the prejudice Phainon heard about the Kremnoans, that nothing mattered in the face of glory. 

His favorite place was the library, almost rivaling the Grove in its immensity and wealth of knowledge. He met Ptolemy there, one of Mydeimos’ closest friends. He always had a calm look on his face and a hardcover book in his hands, and while Phainon had initially been wary of him at first, Ptolemy simply looked at him and extended his hand out to him with a book, asking if he liked to read and if he would like to discuss it with him. 

It ended hours later, Phainon and him pouring over history books, myths about the Titans (Ptolemy’s face turned funny shades of red every time Phainon confided his theories to him), and Ptolemy recommended books to Phainon to familiarize himself with Castrum Kremnos.

Then Mydeimos came into the library to find him and Ptolemy impassively watched as Mydeimos pinned Phainon to a bookshelf, knee between his legs and arm wrapped tightly around his waist, a hand unyielding behind his head as he kissed Phainon deeply, his tongue filling his mouth and saliva seeping from their joined lips onto Phainon's chin. 

Phainon tried to push him away, but Mydeimos wouldn’t budge. This was one of the very few things Mydeimos wouldn’t concede with him on. The king was absolutely shameless about his desire at any time and any place, and so was the rest of Castrum Kremnos. 

In fact, the Kremnoans were so open about physical affection that it still shocked Phainon. In Aedes Elysiae and Okhema, such talks were for private conversations and only amongst the participating parties and select confidants. Here… Phainon couldn’t count the number of times he had seen affection being shared publically, just as he couldn’t count the number of times he’d received Mydeimos’ favor outside of their bedroom.

(He’d been slow to get used to it. The first time a maid turned the corner and saw Phainon pinned to the wall, his silk skirt pushed up to his waist and Mydeimos’ fingers buried in his cunt, Phainon tried to scramble away. His hand shot to Mydeimos’ wrist and he attempted to pull him out, but the king was far stronger and instead slammed his fingers further in, making Phainon toss his head back and convulse as he squirted onto Mydeimos’ hand and the floor. The humiliation had been terrible, even if the maid simply bowed her head and informed them that someone would be by shortly to clean. 

Phainon’s face burned, hiding in Mydeimos’ bare shoulder, but the king simply nodded, licking Phainon’s slick from his fingers as he told her to do a thorough check of the palace after they retired to their bedroom, since he wasn’t quite sure when he would be done with his queen.)

At least it was just kissing, Phainon comforted himself. His eyes were long closed, he still couldn’t stand meeting anyone else’s gaze during these moments, it made his skin prickle in embarrassment and he would hunch further into his husband, though his husband seemed to enjoy Phainon seeking comfort from him. 

Mydeimos pressed him deeper into the bookshelves, the ridges digging into his back and Phainon made a soft sound of protest. He heard rustling noises and opened his eyes to see Ptolemy stand up, nodding at him with a wry smile before patting a book he’d set on the table and leaving the couple. 

A sharp sting on his lip had Phainon whining, eyes snapping back to see displeased gold. Mydeimos drew back the slightest bit and said, “You are paying attention to others rather than your husband.”

Phainon frowned softly. “I don’t like doing it where people can see.” His fingers twisted into Mydeimos’ soft hair. 

The king tilted his head and looked at him. “You will get used to it. You’ve already become accustomed to our servants seeing you in the morning. It is not possible for me to refrain from seeking you when you linger in my mind and soul.” Phainon bit his lip. 

(Being seen in their bedroom was far more comfortable than being seen in public areas. Mydei liked to have him as soon as the king woke up and Phainon, too sleepy to stop him, just let it happen. At least he could hide himself in their pillows when a maid would walk in to find Mydeimos’ face blissfully buried in his cunt, or tuck his head into Mydeimos’ shoulder when his private secretary would come to Mydeimos’ side and inform him on his daily schedule while Phainon rode his cock, loud noises spilling out when Mydeimos would grip onto his hips and grind him down down down until Phainon convulsed around him and squirted, moaning as hot seed flooded his womb.)

Phainon didn’t respond. Mydeimos sighed, kissing his cheek. “It will simply take time. You have the rest of your life with me, you will learn to enjoy it.” With that, Mydeimos backed off just enough to reach down and tug Phainon’s mid-thigh silk dress up, pausing when his hands met fabric covering warmth. 

He frowned and Phainon quickly spoke. “I-I know you told me not to wear undergarments, but…” His face flushed beet red and Mydeimos looked less displeased and more intrigued. “I… leak sometimes… onto things…” It almost killed Phainon to choke out those words. It was such a ridiculous occurrence, but his body was so sensitive nowadays, and every time he passed by or sat in an area where Mydeimos had previously found and pleasured him–which was almost everywhere in-and-outside the palace–his body would start reacting, warming and wetting itself in preparation to take his absent husband's cock. He’d had to wipe up the wet stain on his chair or cushion before anyone else could see, and he decided to disobey one of Mydeimos’ rules by commissioning a few padded undergarments (he’d privately asked Hephaestion to do it for him and the king’s right-hand agreed easily. When Phainon asked if he wasn’t worried about directly going against one of Mydeimos’ commands, Hephaestion waved him off with a laugh, saying Mydeimos would forgive Phainon, and in return him, once he confided his reasoning. Hephaestion winked at him and Phainon flushed.)

Indeed, a very pleased smile crept onto Mydeimos’ face and he cooed at him, “My darling wife, your body craves me so delightfully.” He hooked his index finger in the crotch of the undergarments, wet cloth sticking onto him, and tugged it to the side, Phainon’s wet cunt twitching from the cold air and the brush of Mydeimos’s touch. 

The king tilted his head. “It has only been three hours since we were last together, no preparation should be needed.” He reached towards his pants and Phainon latched onto his wrist, stopping him. 

“Wait! I don’t want to get any books dirty.” He pleaded with wide eyes. 

“The books won’t get dirtied,” Mydeimos said, starting to tug his wrist out of Phainon’s hold. 

Phainon quickly pressed their bodies together, thighs clamping around the hand still between his legs and rubbing them together, eyes soft and sweet. “Please, you know how messy I get with you. I don’t want to dirty the books.” Of all things… Phainon really wouldn’t be able to take it if any of these precious books got dirty with his spend. He would cry, there were books in here so expensive that he would have never seen them with his own eyes if he was still in Okhema. 

Mydeimos froze, staring down at him with blazing eyes. Phainon leaned up and pressed little kisses to his jaw. “Let me use my mouth, husband.” The king’s breath caught and Phainon’s body was crushed against his, feeling the large length pressing against his stomach. Phainon very rarely ever used his mouth, the king’s cock was too large and it often pained him, and the first time Phainon’s lips had torn, Mydeimos looked distressed at his pain and never urged him to do it again. 

Mydeimos let out a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back at Phainon. “Temptation in living form.” He said hoarsely, releasing Phainon and stepping back, letting Phainon’s skirt drop back down. 

Phainon sighed in relief, guiding Mydeimos over to a chair and sitting him down before kneeling in front of him, tugging his pants down just enough for his cock to spring out and hit Phainon in the face. 

Still as monstrously large as ever… Phainon gave kitten licks around the shaft, his hands massaging the length and balls sitting heavy, Mydeimos grunting above him. He gathered as much spit as he could and touched his mouth to the head, opening his lips and letting saliva trickle out and spill all over Mydeimos’ cock, his hands spreading the liquid as Phainon sunk down, lips stretched wide open. He had to stop almost halfway down, his mouth full and his throat twitching as Mydeimos’ head gently poked at it. This was as far as he could go without choking, and he bobbed his head up and down, his hands covering what he had left, and a large hand settled in his hair, resting there and letting Phainon go at his own pace. 

It took a while, and Phainon’s jaw ached terribly, before that hand tightened ever so slightly, and Phainon braced himself as cum flooded his mouth, swallowing the slightly sweet and salty liquid as best as he could, cupping his hands under his mouth to catch whatever spilled out. 

When the neverending stream finally stopped, Phainon pulled back, his throat sticky and warm, his belly warmer and full. There was cum pooling in his cupped hands and Phainon wasn’t quite sure what to do. It was too much to wipe up, but he also didn’t want to carry two handfuls of cum around with him until he could find somewhere to wash. 

There was a deep chuckle above him and Phainon’s eyes looked to see Mydeimos lounging on his chair like a throne, eyes half-lidded and pleased, a sly look aimed at his kneeling queen. 

“Didn’t you say you didn’t want to get the library dirty?” Mydeimos asked softly, gesturing to him. 

Phainon paled. Mydeimos didn’t mean for him to… He looked at the king’s lavicious smile and decided, yes, he did mean it. Phainon bit his lip and hesitated. “It will only taste worse the colder it gets, my beloved.” Mydeimos reminded him. 

He gritted his teeth and brought his cupped hands to his mouth, tipping his head back and letting the slightly cool cum slide down his throat. It was mildly unpleasant, and Phainon had to fight the gag threatening to choke him, until all the liquid was gone. 

He sat there, hands covered in spend and panting, when hands scooped him up and placed him on Mydeimos’s lap, the king bringing both hands to his mouth and licking them thoroughly, his thick tongue twisting around Phainon’s fingers and suckling them as Phainon watched the king gather his own cum into his mouth. When Phainon’s hands were cleaned of spend, Mydeimos reached up and cupped the back of his head, forcing his tongue inside. Phainon choked as his mouth was filled with both Mydeimos’ cum and spit, and Mydeimos pinched his nose until he swallowed the mixture down before pulling away, looking like a satiated lion as Phainon wheezed, his face bright red. 

Mydeimos looked over to where Ptolemy had been sitting and laughed, prompting Phainon to look over as well. “Perhaps I should have taken you anyways.” Mydeimos said, sliding the book over to his view. 

The Art of Childrearing and Its Differing Techniques Across Cultures was what Phainon had read, because it was in Okheman and his Kremnoan was still moderate at best. Which meant Ptolemy had specifically gotten this book to give to Phainon.

Phainon bit his lip. It only seemed like a matter of time before…

Chapter Text

Nobody noticed at first, because even after months of living in Castrum Kremnos, Phainon’s body still struggled to adapt to certain things. The easiest was the culture, which came to the surprise of everyone—most of all Phainon. Maybe at the beginning he’d had it the worst, what with his husband always on him like a lion in rut regardless of the situation or who was around them, but with the entire people as a whole participating in acts of love in public, casually having conversations or meals while engaging in intimacy—well, anyone would find themselves desensitized to it. Phainon still wasn’t at the level of initiating it quite just yet, but he no longer flinched away from Mydeimos’ wandering hands and overwhelming desire, no longer tried to stop him from parting his thin robes and rutting his cock against Phainon’s wet folds, got used to the servants and soldiers drifting pass them as Mydeimos had Phainon pinned against the nearest surface while sheathing himself into Phainon’s cunt with heavy, intimate movements, the lighthearted teasing of Mydeimos’ closest confidants when the king would interrupt their conversations to plaster himself against Phainon with one-minded intent (—and maybe one day Phainon would be able to admit to himself that there was a freedom in knowing that his desires and ardent displays were celebrated among the Kremnoans instead of shunned for its obscenity, but he kept those thoughts carefully hidden away). Even the weather was something he had come to familiarity with. Okhema and Aedes Elysiae were known for their light breezes and gentle rays of sun, while Castrum Kremnos had the heat beating down on their training grounds, drying up the soil, and cooking mud into clay—yet it worked to their advantage as well. They were able to fight in any extreme weather, were used to the blinding light of the sun and could endure its heat far longer than anyone else, could last longer in cold weather due to their body temperatures evolving to almost furnace-like warmth, which Phainon happily took advantage of as someone whose body ran cold.

The hardest was the food. Phainon was used to light, fresh meals that consisted primarily of vegetables and wheat, with meat peppered in as a companion. Light seasoning of salt, pepper, onion, garlic—something mild and oftentimes cool. Kremnoans, on the other hand, favored heavily seasoned and spiced foods, their meat the main course; roasted and sizzling over bonfires, slathered in chili paste and turmeric, the smell strong enough to make Phainon sneeze and his eyes water. The first time he had a meal in his new home resulted in him throwing it up hours later and becoming bedridden as the rapid change in diet wrecked havoc on his fragile digestive system. It was the first time he’d ever seen Mydeimos panic as the royal physician, introducing himself as Perdikkas when Phainon came to, rushed to aid him. After that, he’d been carefully weaned from simple meals of porridge and tossed vegetables, to lightly sauced foods and oily bread, to heavy curries and crackling pork, until his tongue grew used to the change and he even started enjoying it.

His stomach would relapse from time to time, but it was so far in between that no one really paid much mind to it. Which is why it came as a shock when Phainon suddenly hunched over one day and retched his lunch, hot bile falling from his mouth as he clutched his rolling stomach and clung to the wall to steady himself. He heard his attendants panicking around him, gentle hands leading him to sit on a stool as a soft cloth wiped his face while he dry heaved into a basin held under his mouth. He let out strained groans and when it seemed like there was nothing left to expel, a warm cup of water was pressed to his lips, the liquid soothing his raw throat as he carefully drank it down. He leaned his back against the wall and tilted his head up, eyes closed as he took measured breaths. A cloth patted the sweat gathering on his temples while Phainon rubbed even circles over his abdomen, the prickling feeling of nausea slowly receding and the ringing in his ears fading until he heard pounding footsteps rushing towards him. His eyes opened just a sliver and he saw Perdikkas bee-lining to him with furrowed eyebrows and a worried tension to his broad shoulders.

“Tell me what Lady Phainon ate.” His voice was calm, his hands taking Phainon’s pulse and temperature as his focused eyes trailed over the ashen pallor of Phainon’s pale skin and the way he held himself, hand cupped protectively over his stomach and sweat beading his upper lip before being dabbed away by a clean cloth.

“Her Majesty ate a lunch of stewed mutton and garlic-brushed bread, the same as His Majesty,” the trembling voice of Phainon’s youngest lady-in-waiting, a girl barely past her sixteenth year, answered. “Not even three hours ago.” Phainon’s eyes flickered over to her, and as he saw her shaking body, his hand weakly reached out to clasp onto hers, tangling their fingers together. Her watery eyes darted over to him and she huddled against his side, her hands lightly squeezing his, before drawing away with calmer breaths.

“And King Mydei hasn’t experienced any of these symptoms?” When the servants shook their head, Perdikkas’ eyes focused onto Phainon again, a scrutinizing look in them that had Phainon shifting nervously.

“What is it, Perdikkas?” Phainon asked, his voice raspy and quiet. A newly filled cup of water pressed against his mouth and he drank from it until he was full. “Speak, please. I grow more nervous the longer your silence draws on.”

Slight hesitation crossed the healer’s face before he seemed to nod to himself. “Lady Phainon, I will ask you a series of questions. Please answer to the best of your abilities.” He got down on one knee and pressed his fingers against the pulse point in Phainon’s wrist. “Have you recently been experiencing dizzy spells, increased lethargy, loss of appetite, or sudden mood changes?”

Phainon blinked at him, his mind wandering to the past few weeks. “…Yes. The weather is getting hotter, so I can’t stay out as long as I used to anymore. When I get too heated, it also causes me to grow wearier and I find myself retiring to bed before the sun dips low.” At the thought of food, Phainon’s stomach squeezed around itself and he winced, pressing his fingers into the flesh harder and rubbing circles. “It’s been a bit difficult for me to eat recently. Mydeimos has had to dip more into our stock of fresh vegetables when I struggle to keep heavier foods down.”

Perdikkas remained silent the entire time Phainon spoke, his face unreadable as his fingers stayed firm against Phainon’s pulse. After his last sentence petered off, Perdikkas nodded to himself before looking right into Phainon’s eyes. “I believe I understand what is happening, however I will ask one more question—when did you have your last blood cycle?”

It was as if all noise was sucked out of the hallway, everyone stilling in place as Phainon froze, his mind creaking to a stop. He hadn’t even connected it in his mind, though he supposed it should have been obvious, what with the activities he engaged in the entire time he’d been here. His blood cycle hadn’t come in the first few months he arrived in Castrum Kremnos—stress from a new environment, Perdikkas told him when Phainon sought him out in worry after he realized it wasn’t because he was with child—and it was only a month ago that red finally dotted his undergarments.

He’d found out when Mydeimos had him sprawled on their marital bed, his husband bare of clothing as he slowly stripped Phainon, ripping his nails through Phainon’s thin flowy dress and tossing the scraps to the floor. He took his time trailing kisses along Phainon’s collarbones, massaging Phainon’s plump tits that he trained to sensitivity, swelling with the lightest touch and pink with want. “Beautiful.” Mydeimos purred, his golden eyes half-slitted in contentment as he leaned down to press a sweet kiss to the nub, Phainon covering his mouth with the back of his hand. His husband kissed down his body, nipping at plush curves and burying his face in Phainon’s stomach, a breath of air brushing the spit-slicken skin as Mydeimos whispered something too quietly for him to hear. He felt hands tug down his undergarments and a nose graze the top of his cunt before Mydeimos paused. Phainon looked down as the silence dragged on and tangled his hand into Mydeimos’ hair, golden eyes alight in delight meeting his as the king sat on his heels and showed Phainon the inside of his cotton garments. Red liquid stained the cloth amongst his slick and Phainon’s breath caught. “My lovely bride,” Mydeimos crooned, pressing the inside of the seam against his nose, breathing in deeply as his eyes fluttered closed. “This cycle will be your last for a very long time, I promise you that.” And with his undergarments placed next to his hip, Mydeimos descended upon his cunt like a man starved; and even as Phainon tried to stop him from shame, the man seemed to purr as Phainon yanked at his hair, his tongue digging deep into Phainon’s core and lapping at him, wet slurping noises fillng the air as the scent of iron and rust reached his nose.

“Don’t—” Phainon pleaded, his hips being drug up to meld into Mydeimos’ face, “that’s dirty—!” He let out a cry when his husband ignored him and buried his nose into his cunt, sharp teeth glancing at his lips and sensitive walls. There was a feeling of thicker liquid dripping out of him, different from the sleekness of his spend, and Phainon whimpered when Mydeimos groaned against him, huffing into his cunt and swallowing noisily, his index fingers sinking into his cunt and spreading it open, his tongue stiffening and jabbing into him—and Phainon arched his back as lightning shot down his spine, long moans pitching high as the sound of him squirting harmonized with Mydeimos drinking down his orgasm as quickly as he could. Mydeimos finally withdrew from him and looked up—and red flushed Phainon’s cheeks as blood soaked Mydeimos’ face, pale pink where it mixed with his spend, and dripping down his chin, red staining his grinning fangs and that lewd tongue of his darting out to swipe up any mess he could.

“Delicious,” Mydeimos said, his voice heavy and his eyes heated with an almost drunkness. And with Phainon’s undergarments bitten between his teeth, his husband slid his thick cock into Phainon’s pulsing cunt, fucking into him with a near frightening one-mindedness as Phainon was forced to spread his legs open to accept it. He didn’t think he would ever forget the sight of blood coating Mydeimos’ cock and staining their bedsheets along with sweat and seed.

Phainon came back to himself and looked at Perdikkas, his fingers twisting into his dress. “About a month ago? It’s late this cycle, but I had assumed… well, I assumed my body was adjusting back to normalcy.”

The healer smiled, something twinkling in his eyes as his hand switched from holding his wrist to squeezing his hand. “I’m happy to announce that your body has more than adjusted—it has blessed our nation with two royal children.” Phainon’s mouth dropped open as the servants around them, more having crept closer in worry at seeing their queen being tended to by the royal physician, burst into excited noise, all a buzzing in Phainon’s ears as he stared down at his stomach.

Two…? There were two children in his stomach, growing inside him? Phainon wasn’t sure how to feel. He wanted children of his own, of course he did, but… with Mydeimos? Someone he hadn’t even known for a year, who claimed him without caring about whether or not Phainon wanted it? Phainon remembered their consummation night, his vehement refusal to give Mydeimos heirs—and now look at him, he carried two. Phainon took deep breaths, reaching up to press lightly against the silver scar of Mydeimos’ fangs framing his throat before meeting Perdikkas’ worried gaze with a tight smile. He heard several servants running off, yelling the news to anyone who could hear, and he knew it would be all over Castrum Kremnos before the sun even started dipping low.

Phainon held himself and rubbed his thumbs into his arms. It would be okay. It had to be okay. It wasn’t as if Phainon was treated badly, in fact, Phainon was treated almost too well. He was beloved by the people of Castrum Kremnos, beloved by their almost god-king and, well—Mydeimos was a good man. He was. An incredibly capable warrior, a king who cared for his people deeply, and a devoted husband.

Phainon could truly want for nothing. Everything he desired was granted, no matter how big or small (though he still hadn’t allowed Phainon to visit Okhema yet…). Mydeimos spared no effort in showering Phainon with sweet praise, constant affection in hugs and kisses, holding Phainon’s hand every chance he got, pulling Phainon into his lap, and hand feeding him every meal (Phainon protested this initially, but… well he had never known that such an intimidating man could look so devastated at being denied something so simple, he couldn’t help but give in, to see the breathtaking smile Mydeimos directed at him).

It was just… Phainon’s body still sometimes struggled to handle Mydeimos’ show of near relentless love, and it was difficult to get Mydeimos to listen to any of his refusals, though he’d slowly been getting more and more used to it, just like his husband said he would.

(And Mydeimos gave him so much and only asked for two things in return—his love and children. It wasn’t like it was something too difficult to give back. Phainon’s heart started fluttering around Mydeimos now, and his body was made to bear children. Phainon received mind-numbing pleasure and Mydeimos usually gave him rest after seeding him three times, so it wasn’t really that bad, right? Right.)

Phainon lived a wonderful life, with people who cared for him and a husband who gave him everything—and two children on the way. He couldn’t be happier.

“…My husband will be ecstatic.” Phainon said, letting go of himself to tuck his hair behind his ear. He started to stand up and there was a flurry of movement as hands hovered around him anxiously, Perdikkas holding his arm out for Phainon to place his hand on. Phainon huffed out a tired laugh, already feeling lethargy tugging at his bones when the rush of emotions passed through him. “I haven't even shown yet.”

The healer chuckled. “It’s been many centuries since a queen was blessed with twins. The entire nation will be fussing over you.”

“Oh Titans.” Phainon murmured under his breath. He spoke a little louder, “If that’s how the citizens will be, how will Mydeimos be?”

Perdikkas seemed to give it some thought, a smile tugging on his lips before he shook in laughter and his eyes twinkled with mirth. “He’ll be like a burr you can’t get rid of.”

“Perdikkas,” Phainon turned wide eyes on him, “you’re the only one the rest of them will listen to. Mydeimos already stays by my side far more than I thought a king ever could, please—” He didn’t get to finish his sentence before he heard thundering steps rushing to him and Mydeimos appeared around the corner, his hair in disarray as he searched for Phainon. When his eyes landed on his queen, he lit up, a broad smile on his face as he swept Phainon into a tight embrace and buried his face in his neck.

“My wife,” Phainon heard him sigh out. “The mother of my children.” He’d never heard him so giddy before as Mydeimos drew back and kissed him passionately, his hands cupping Phainon’s cheeks, sliding down his waist and tugging up the hem of his dress—until a loud smack echoed through the hallway and Mydeimos flinched away with a curse.

Phainon looked over and saw Perdikkas standing there, the most unimpressed look imaginable aimed at the king. “You dare strike your monarch?” Mydeimos asked, looking mildly offended but not angry, to Phainon’s relief. His five confidants truly were the exceptions to things that would get lesser people executed.

The healer raised an eyebrow. “I dare strike a husband so lustful he won’t even listen to his royal physician’s advice before setting himself on his pregnant with twins wife like a beast.” The king pursed his lips, glancing away almost sheepishly—a look Phainon never thought he could have. Perdikkas saw his surprised expression and gave him a wry smile. “I had a hand in raising this rascal, if he didn’t have some humility with me…” He trailed off ominously and Mydeimos cleared his throat, politely leaving his hands above Phainon’s waist as he drew his wife back into his embrace. Phainon went easily, his hand resting on Mydeimos’ chest as he leaned his weight on him, sighing softly. He held back a yawn and waited for Perdikkas to continue.

“Now normally it would be safe for couples to continue having vaginal sex for the entire pregnancy—however,” Perdikkas stared Mydeimos down when he perked up at the words, “as we all know that Mydeimos is an animal when it comes to Phainon, it would be safe to refrain from that once Phainon starts showing past his feet.”

The king grumbled at first before saying, “That should still be a while right?” The healer shrugged and gestured at Mydeimos’ entirety.

“Again, normally I would say yes, but Kremnoan genes—especially ones like your own—coupled with the fact that Phainon is carrying twins, could very well likely mean within a month or two at the latest.” Mydeimos’ eyebrows furrowed and he leaned down to nuzzle into Phainon’s temple, pressing a kiss to his abnormally warm skin as Phainon yawned again. Maybe he should have been paying more attention, but really, he was so sleepy. Throwing up his entire lunch and going through a wild wave of emotions really took the wind out of him. His husband noticed how tired he was and lowered his voice, gently sweeping Phainon into his arms in a bridal hold and Phainon laid his head on his shoulder and drifted off to sleep.

“I’ll make sure to keep your words in mind. Though I do enjoy my wife’s cunt the most, there are other ways to engage in pleasure.” Perdikkas nodded, placing his fingers against Phainon’s pulse point one more time, just in reassurance for himself, before pulling away and smiling.

“If you need any advice or ideas, I’m sure Ptolemy has plenty.” The both of them shared a laugh as they parted from one another, Mydeimos bringing Phainon back to their marital bed for much needed rest.

—

And just as Phainon thought, by the time he woke up from his quick nap, the news spread all over Castrum Kremnos. He could hear it in the whispers as servants passed by his bedroom, the murmurings coming into his open window, and the letters already arriving to him, congratulating the royal couple on their blessings. Maybe if it had been just the one, there wouldn’t be such a buzz, but truly the fact of it being twins took the excitement to a near frenzied state. Was it truly that incredible that he carried twins? Phainon couldn’t understand it, the people of Aedes Elysiae were as fertile as their land, and multiple children in one brood was quite common. In fact, Phainon being born by himself had been a shock among the villagers, though they did joke that Kephale spent too much time shaping Phainon and that’s why They forgot to give him a twin. Perhaps it was because life was so scarce here that made it all the more fantastical, Phainon mused. It would certainly explain how the people of Castrum Kremnos practically fell onto their hands and knees in their rush to get him anything he needed or even hinted at needing. There was a light air of excitement throughout the entire nation, buzzing as people pranced around spreading the word that their queen was sent by Nikador and blessed by Kephale, to bring new life for their undefeated warrior-king.

He was barely allowed time to himself, always at least three servants following him around at all times. Phainon was to meet with the royal physician a minimum of once a week to check his and the children’s well-being, there was an endless stream of people wanting to see him and his belly—even though he still wasn’t showing! The only time he could breathe was in his bedroom, where no one dared enter but the king and queen—and even then, Mydeimos would be latched onto him from behind, his nose pressed into Phainon’s neck as his hands cradled his stomach. Phainon much preferred that over everything else though, maybe because it was the father of his children being around him that settled the restlessness that seemed to linger in Phainon’s gut. At least his husband didn’t overwhelm him with enthusiam. Mydeimos simply sat with him, his calloused hand somehow so gentle as he traced circles along Phainon’s belly, their bodies curled around each other, the air light with contentedness.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and when Phainon’s stomach finally started swelling, he felt an odd sort of ache within his chest. He noticed his breasts were somehow even more sensitive than Mydeimos trained them to be, an almost pain jolting through him when his clothing brushed against swollen nipples, bright red and stiff even as Phainon simply sat there. It was… not uncomfortable, but it did feel like a pressure steadily pressing down on him. Mydeimos noticed his discomfort because Mydeimos noticed every miniscule thing about Phainon, and when he saw his pregnant wife wince one last time, he put his foot down and brought Phainon to Perdikkas.

“And how long has this been going on?” Their healer asked, tone completely unimpressed. Phainon’s eyes shifted away guiltily as Myedimos answered him.

“I noticed it around two weeks ago.” He said, squeezing Phainon’s shoulder gently. “I waited for Phainon to speak up, but he kept silent so I decided enough was enough and brought him to you.”

Phainon winced at the look Perdikkas gave him and wrung his fingers together, “Well, it wasn’t too bad. I didn’t want to bother you with something so small.” Perdikkas shook his head helplessly.

“Any changes in your body is my immediate concern as both your royal physician and as your friend, Phainon.” Perdikkas said, standing up to walk around the table, kneeling down in front of his queen and lifting his hand up. “May I?” He gestured to Phainon’s chest and Phainon nodded. The healer carefully parted the silk robe Phainon took to wearing away, pausing when Phainon sucked in a quick breath at the slight catch of fabric, then continued until Phainon’s breasts were bared to them.

Perdikkas frowned, gently pressing around the swollen flesh and Phainon winced, reaching up to hold Mydeimos’ hand as his husband watched Perdikkas anxiously. “Is it only pain you feel?” Perdikkas asked, drawing away to slip on sterile gloves before touching Phainon again. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

Phainon blinked down at him, “Huh—ah!” He gasped in shock, a jolt shooting up his spine when Perdikkas gently pinched a swollen nipple between his fingers, pain pulsing in the little nub. Phainon sucked in a breath and tried to answer. “It’s pain, but also as if a pressure is building up there.”

Perdikkas paused, pulling back to sit on his heels as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He hummed, then snapped his fingers with a knowing little sound, taking off the gloves and tossing them into a bin. “What is it, Perdikkas?” Mydeimos asked, his hand cupping Phainon’s breast and massaging it.

“It’s not bad, in actuality, I would say we should have expected this sooner—” Perdikkas’ words cut short when Mydeimos used more force and a white liquid shot out of Phainon’s tit, splattering onto the floor between them. There was a heavy silence as all three of them stared down at the puddle before Phainon made a noise of mortification and sunk his face into his hands. Mydeimos was still frozen, his eyes wide and jaw slightly dropped open. “…As I was saying,” Perdikkas continued wryly, “our queen’s body is simply starting production on milk to nourish your ilk.”

Mydeimos’ eyes dilated and he turned his head to Phainon, almost predatory in his movements. He looked like he wanted to press him down to the floor and breed him all over again, restrained only by the knowledge that his older friend would smack him upside the head if he tried in front of him. “Oh, mother, I am truly blessed.” He said under his breath and Phainon’s face shot up to glare at him, completely flushed in embarrassment with teary eyes. His tit was dripping out tiny drops of milk, the other one still engorged, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, the small burst of liquid really did soothe the pressure in his chest.

Perdikkas cleared his throat. “I’ll reiterate it once again—refrain from rough vaginal intercourse. It’s still okay now, since Phainon isn’t showing too much, but—” he sent a warning look to Mydeimos, “practice restraint.” He rolled his eyes when Mydeimos nodded numbly, already knowing he lost him. He spoke to Phainon much gentler, “As much as I hate to enable him, it would be best to have your chest massaged and milk drained on the regular to allow production to continue smoothly. It will temper your aches and get you used to the act of nursing when it is time.” Phainon bit his bottom lip, his ears turning bright red before he nodded, shyly looking up at an almost-drooling Mydeimos.

“Well?” He tried to ask demandingly, but his voice trembled. “Will you help me?”

(Phainon had never seen Mydeimos move faster than in that moment, yelping as he was swept up into his arms and carried off with a hurried farewell to a sighing Perdikkas.)

They arrived back to their bedchambers in record time and Mydeimos gently laid Phainon down on their bed, spreading his legs and settling in between them, careful to keep most of his weight to his legs and arms. He slid the silk robe off Phainon’s shoulders and it dropped to the bed. Phainon’s plush breasts swayed softly in the open air, plumped more than usual with milk inside. Mydeimos let out an excited breath before leaning down, gently pressing his lips against a swollen nub, laving over it with his tongue and drawing it fully into his mouth, lightly suckling on it before using more suction as he massaged the other breast with his hand. A hot gush of liquid squirted into his mouth and he groaned, swallowing down the thick milk. It was sweet and creamy, a delicacy he was already jealous of having to share with his children. He wanted more.

Phainon moaned, his hand shooting up to grab the back of his husband’s head as Mydeimos buried his face in Phainon’s leaking tits, milk dripping out of his unnursed nipple and sliding down Mydeimos’ wrist, the sweet scent of milk floating into the air. “Easy, husband.” Phainon panted out, sweat beading his temples as he felt a stream of liquid being suckled out of his full breast. “If our children have even a fourth of your Kremnoan blood, they’ll need all the milk I can produce—ah.” Phainon clenched his thighs together, a sharp sting of teeth nipping at his swollen nipple. He dug his hands into Mydeimos’ hair and tried to tug his husband’s greedy mouth off him, but Mydeimos only grabbed onto his waist more persistently, careful not to put too much pressure on the beginning swell of his wife’s pregnant belly.

“Honestly, Mydeimos! You’ll drink our children’s entire—their entire su-pply!” Phainon’s eyes rolled up as his legs were gathered together and pushed to the side, a hot cock pressing against his leaking cunt and sliding in, prying him open. “Not—not too deep!” He tried to remind his husband, who looked drunk on his milk as his wild eyes pierced into Phainon’s, letting out a muffled growl where his face was still buried in his pregnant wife’s tits. He thrust into Phainon with heavy movements, his seed-heavy balls swinging against Phainon’s leaking cunt while Phainon panted into the air, his hands clutching onto their bedsheets as he clenched down, shrieking when he felt Mydeimos’ cock pressing against his cervix. Panic welled in him as the tip threatened to pop in and his hand shot to Mydeimos’ back, nails digging in until blood scented the air. “No!” He bared his teeth at Mydeimos—who only seemed more aroused at his gentle wife’s anger, though he still obediently drew back, slowing his movements down and only pressing half his length in at a time.

Phainon relaxed, slumping against their bed with Mydeimos still latched onto his teat, closing his eyes as he enjoyed his husband’s methodical ministrations. As the milk in his breast slowed, so did his husband, and Phainon sighed into the air as they both orgasmed together, Mydeimos drawing out to release his seed against the outside of Phainon’s wet cunt.

He let go of Phainon’s abused breast, his nipple swollen red and trembling in the cool air—and then promptly shifted to the other tit, still dripping with fresh milk. “Ah, how much do you need?” Phainon whimpered out, hand tangling into Mydeimos’ hair and petting through the thick strands. Loud slurping was the only response he heard, and Phainon slowly drifted off to sleep to the feeling of his husband suckling from him.

—

After the slow start to his showing, it seemed as if his children finally started going at their own pace and Phainon’s belly swelled quicker than a normal pregnancy, to the point of alarm, and he rushed to find Perdikkas, who soothed his worries with a cup of hot tea as they sat in his office, a hand on top of Phainon’s and squeezing it gently. “Our people were blessed by Nikador, we are naturally larger than the average Amphorean. Our children grow quickly and they will grow large. It’s already a miracle that you haven’t experienced too much discomfort despite carrying two of Mydeimos’ progeny.”

Phainon felt his heart calm and he took a long sip of tea, the floral sweetness teasing his nose and settling in his stomach. He thought of something and smiled, shaking his head when the healer looked at him in question. “It’s just… well, I find it a bit funny that everyone keeps saying that.” He’d heard it multiple times now, either directly or just in passing, that everyone truly believed Phainon was born to be their queen, as his stomach gradually grew and he still remained mostly able-bodied.

“The late king was the strongest in our nation during his reign and an extremely physically imposing man.” Perdikkas said, drawing back to stretch his arms above his head. “Our late queen Gorgo, may she be ever triumphant, was the second strongest and only so slightly lesser in height than the late king.” He paused and then winked at Phainon. “And you’ve seen up-close and personal just how large Mydeimos is.” Phainon flushed a bright red and Perdikkas chuckled quietly to himself, looking pleased with his quip.

“Honestly, the five of you—!” Phainon covered his face with his free hand, embarrassment coloring his ears and cheeks. He didn’t really care much about being seen anymore, what with how often it happened, but how freely everyone spoke of their trysts still made him want to bury his face into the nearest hole.

Hephaestion was the worst of them, he delighted in teasing Mydeimos (“with a bonus of seeing our lovely queen so shy!” Hephaestion crooned when Phainon had thrown a cushion at him after another one of his jokes). And one would think a man as calm and quiet as Ptolemy wouldn’t engage in that sort of tomfoolery, and verbally he didn’t. But if Phainon had to find another self-help book about the side effects on the body of too much intimacy, or home remedies to soothe aches and soreness of muscles—

At least Leonnius and Peucesta weren’t as keen to start up, though Phainon had a feeling it was simply because Leonnius was too busy running around delivering messages to do so, though he often dropped a very quick and subtle one whenever he could.

Peucesta was, well, he could be called a romantic Phainon supposed. Perhaps it came with his position as court musician, he delighted in serenading Phainon about his marriage with Mydeimos, the blessings of Phainon’s fertility and his beauty—just the memory of how many times he caught Peucesta repeatedly performing ballads about their courtship to weirdly large crowds of awed Kremnoans had Phainon groaning into his hands all over again.

Somehow they were all suave and calculating around others, but as soon as any combination of the group happened, they became so rowdy and mischievous. Though Phainon would admit that there was quite a measure of comfortability with their casual inclusion of him in their inner circle. Their silliness helped soothed the worst of Phainon’s mood swings, when even the sight of another human being would make irritation well-up deep in Phainon’s gut.

Because while he did feel gratitude for how much the Kremnoans cared for him, sometimes it could become almost overbearing the larger he grew. Phainon felt like he went from barely having any time to himself to having no room at all to breathe from the moment he woke up to when he retired to his marital bed. There was always someone hovering around him, asking him if he needed anything, trying to stop him from walking around so much, and fretting if his steps slowed or faltered even the littlest bit. The constant stream of noise, of people calling out for him—there was only so much he could take of the countless “Your Majesty”, "Queen Phainon”, and “My Lady”’s he heard everyday, treating him as if he would collapse the moment they looked away—it started to grate on his nerves. He didn’t like being mean, didn’t like being sharp, but the heat beating down on his fair skin, the aching soreness of his feet, the heavy weight of his children pushing the breath out of him, jumping between starving and wanting to throw up at the smell of food, just everything—! Even the air brushing his skin the wrong way had the chance to set him off. He was sensitive, his hormones were completely out of harmony, and he just wanted peace.

The only peace he could find was in Peucesta’s music and his husband’s embrace. Peucesta was good at reading Phainon’s mood—bonus of being a bard and having older sisters—and it made him Phainon’s second favorite person to be around during his pregnancy. He played a lyre harp, its strings plucked to produce sweet and delicate notes that mellowed out Phainon’s intense emotions. Phainon enjoyed laying on a cushioned recliner in the late queen Gorgo’s garden, an umbrella shading him as Peucesta sat across from him, his twinkling music blending in beautifully with the sound of the breeze passing through resilient foliage.

It was made even better with the appearance of his husband, who made sure to be scarcely away from him as Phainon’s belly swelled and his sensitivity grew. Mydei would carefully lift Phainon up to slide behind him, cradling his exhausted wife to his chest as he gently massaged his sore muscles. It often ended with a heat burning in Phainon’s belly, wrapping his hand around Mydeimos’ wrist and dragging it down to where he ached, Mydeimos' long fingers pressing into his cunt as he drew a gentle orgasm from Phainon, enough to make him doze off with a satisfied sigh.

That was another side effect of his pregnancy that Perdikkas warned him about, his libido increasing and decreasing seemingly at random. Sometimes when Mydeimos would nurse from him, Phainon wished he would bury his cock in his cunt and seed him again—even as he was actively pregnant—but this late into the pregnancy, Mydeimos wouldn’t risk it and it often ended with Phainon sobbing as his flustered husband tried to comfort him. The first time he was rejected—and it really was the first. Mydeimos would never refuse the opportunity to have Phainon—he’d felt so ugly in that moment. The weight gain, his mood swings, his eating habits; all of it, coupled with his husband’s refusal, caused Phainon to break down and cry into Mydeimos’ arms as he demanded to know if Mydeimos no longer found him attractive.

Of course his husband denied it, but Phainon knew the truth. A man who seemingly was unable to separate from his cunt now refusing to even press the tip of his cock into it? What else could be the answer?

(When Phainon was of clearer mind, he knew it was his volatile hormones speaking, but in that moment it felt like his crushing reality.)

But his husband, his loving doting Mydeimos, immediately showed him just how much he loved Phainon; his queen, his lover, the mother of his unborn children. He’d pressed Phainon back against their mattress, gently parted his legs, and used his mouth to draw sweet pleasure from him, calming Phainon down faster than when he tried to hug him. Phainon felt embarassed once he’d orgasmed, but Mydeimos reassured him that Perdikkas warned them that this was normal for a pregnancy.

More time passed, and as Phainon grew more and more dissatisfied with his husband’s reluctance to fuck his cunt, Mydeimos brought up something he’d been debating on. “There is another form of penetrative sex.” He said when they were both lying on their sides facing each other, one arm beneath Phainon’s head while the other cradled his hip, his body heat a soothing balm against Phainon’s swollen belly. “One that Kremnoans use during pregnancy or if the receiving party is bereft of a cunt.” Phainon blinked at him in question before flinching as the hand on his hip slipped down, inching between the cheeks of his ass.

“There?” Phainon asked, his eyes wide. “How…” Back in Okhema, he’d heard about it in passing, but as a child adopted into a high-profile family and then a nun, he’d never been taught or educated on the ‘obscene’ parts of intimacy—especially since his vow to Kephale involved celibacy.

“It’s how male same-sex couples have intercourse.” Mydeimos said, sliding his hand back to Phainon’s cunt and wetting his fingers with slick before pressing more incessantly against the closed furl of Phainon’s untouched hole. “There’s a gland called the prostate located here that ilicits pleasure similar to your clit—at least that’s what Perdikkas and Ptolemy’s books said.” With the endorsing of Mydeimos’ most sensible companions, Phainon tried to relax, unsure of how to feel as Mydeimos’ finger inched into him.

It wasn’t unpleasant, just a jarring sensation. Mydeimos watched his face carefully, slowly stretching him out one finger at a time until a syrupy warm feeling started brewing in Phainon’s gut and his face flushed pink in pleasure, his hips pushing back against Mydeimos’ fingers. His husband smiled and, after Phainon could take four fingers without flinching, he shifted himself around the bed until he was behind his wife, settling the tip of his hard cock against his wife’s stretched ass.

“Try to stay relaxed, and let me know right away if you need me to slow down, my love.” Mydeimos whispered into his ear, gently pressing in inch by inch. Phainon let out a breath as he felt Mydeimos’ cock fill him up, a slight spark of pain that faded to pleasure as he arched his back and pressed his ass into the cradle of Mydeimos’ hips, letting out a drawn out moan when it caused his cock to sink in further. Mydeimos bit back a curse and pressed his forehead against Phainon’s shoulder, taking deep breaths to curb his instinct to fuck up into his wife’s tight hole.

He only moved when Phainon reached back and curled his hand around Mydeimos’ hips, pulling him towards his body as he made cute little impatient noises. Mydeimos let out a huff of laughter. His wife truly had the perfect body. Most would need more adjustment before using this hole, but careful preparation and his wife was more than eager to be bred again.

Mydeimos fucked him with long methodical thrusts of his hips, pulling out until the tip teased the entrance before sinking back in fully, bottoming out to Phainon’s pleased sigh. Mydeimos took his wife to gentle orgasm and the soft rocking of his body, the quiet of their room, and the heat of his husband cradling him, made Phainon’s eyes flutter shut as he hummed, burying his face into the pillow below him. Mydeimos noticed and chuckled, pressing kisses to his cheek. “Rest, my wife.” He tried to draw out and Phainon prorested, clenching down sharply as a grunt left Mydeimos.

“Stay!” He demanded petulantly, his eyes still stubbornly closed. This was the first time in weeks—since Mydeimos was last in his cunt—that Phainon finally felt settled and he was loathe to lose it. He relaxed when Mydeimos sunk back into him, his hand reaching over to cradle Phainon’s belly, and Phainon drifted off to sleep to the feeling of fullness.

Anal sex became an almost daily part in their life. Ever since he’d been introduced to it, Phainon’s libido jumped to a new level, constantly craving some part of his husband inside him, whether it be his mouth or ass. Mydeimos grew too worried about the pressure placed on his knees when Phainon tried to mouth at his cock, so then it was just his ass. Phainon found himself seeking out his husband at any part of the day, interrupting meetings to demand he come satisfy him, or calling a servant to fetch his husband as he lounged on their bed being fed fruit by one of his ladies-in-waiting. His husband would always arrive with an amused smile on his lips, teasing Phainon about fully adapting to Kremnoan culture, and Phainon just rolled his eyes before spreading his legs and looking at him demandingly.

Indulging in fresh fruit and a bred ass became something he enjoyed more and more often, but it still didn’t stop him from wishing they could return to normalcy in their bedroom. He sighed and patted his bulging stomach. “Just a little bit more, my overgrown babies.”

His cunt was forced to be bare for longer than he anticipated and he’d tried multiple times to entice his husband to break his ironclad will and fill him in a way both of them desired, but his husband remained firm—much to Phainon’s disappointment, which warred with the pleasure he felt by how staunch Mydeimos was in making sure he had a safe pregnancy.

Still, sometimes he really wished…

Near the end of his pregnancy, the couple were tangled together on the bed, Mydeimos cradling Phainon from behind as he fucked up into his tight ass. Phainon nibbled his bottom lip, cunt pulsing in need. Even after months, he still wasn’t used to not being filled with his husband’s cock there, and it ached fiercely.

“Husband…” Phainon softly said, Mydeimos slowing his hips to cup the bottom of Phainon’s swollen belly with one hand and tilting his face to kiss him with the other.

“Do our children pain you, my queen? Should we call for Perdikkas?” Mydeimos’ startlingly handsome face furrowed in concern, even as lust blazed in his golden eyes.

Phainon shook his head, nuzzling into Mydeimos’ jaw. “No, our children are behaving. Just…” He squirmed and reached down, guiding Mydeimos’ hand to his cunt and trying to press his thick fingers inside. “I…” His husband retracted his fingers and Phainon’s eyes welled up, tears threatening to slip out.

“Shhh, my beauty,” Mydeimos whispered to his ears, pressing kiss after kiss to wherever he could reach. “I miss the warmth of your cunt as well, but Perdikkas has warned us against it, for the safety of our children.”

Ugh…! Phainon knew that as well, and he agreed with their royal physician, but that couldn’t stop his Titans-cursed hormones from seeking the fullness he usually had everyday.

Phainon sniffled, and Mydeimos cooed at him. “Later, in due time. Your cunt will have me again, after our children are safely in this world. You will never have to shed tears over its absence inside your womb when it is bare.”

“Promise…?” Phainon asked softly, gazing into his husband’s eyes pleadingly.

“My love, when have I ever denied you?” Mydeimos purred, pressing their lips together in a deep kiss as he resumed his gentle movements, hips pressing flush against Phainon’s ass and grinding in, before drawing out and repeating it again and again.

Phainon allowed his orgasm to wash over him, his ass constricting his husband tightly until he felt warmth spill into him, and his cunt spilled in response, clenching around air.

—

Phainon felt the first contractions start when he sat on a cushioned chair with Ptolemy in the library, his abdomen feeling like it was tightening before it spread down to his thighs, a wave of discomfort making his stomach curl. He let out a small noise, his back curling foward as he placed a hand on the swell of his stomach, massaging it lightly. Ptolemy’s voice, calm and measured, cut off abruptly and Phainon heard the harsh scrape of wood against flooring as the scholar kneeled beside him, his hands hovering over him in worry.

“Lady Phainon, are you okay?” He asked, his grey pupils shaking as Phainon hummed, pressing the fingers of his free hand into his forehead.

“My abdomen is feeling… odd.” Phainon murmured, his voice quiet and a bit strained. He was almost sure it was contractions like Perdikkas warned about the nearer it came time for him to give birth. “I believe I’m experiencing contractions, but I’m not sure if they’re the ‘practice’ ones Perdikkas said or true ones.” Ptolemy looked even more worried and Phainon smiled at him, shaking his head. “Come and sit, my scholar. The pain has already faded and I am still able to speak.” The ache became a footnote in his mind and his body relaxed again, Phainon arching his back as he yawned and stretched his arms above his head.

Ptolemy reluctantly sat back down before standing again, looking hesitant. “Still, allow me to call someone over just in case, my lady.” Without waiting for Phainon’s reply he quickly walked out of the room and Phainon sighed, shaking his head in bemusement.

Ptolemy was both the most excited and the most worried about him during this entire pregnancy, constantly reading books about how to determine whether something was wrong or how to ease one into safe birth, to the point where Perdikkas had to sit him down and scold him for pushing himself into a frenzied state. He calmed down after that, but the slightest hint of discomfort from Phainon had the scholar rushing off to Perdikkas.

Phainon heard the library door open again and he looked up just to see Leonnius walk through, a bright smile on his face as he spotted Phainon. “Ah, there you are, my lovely queen! I knew you’d be here.” He walked over and pressed a kiss to the back of Phainon’s hand before sitting down in the seat Ptolemy vacated.

“Leonnius! What a surprise, you’re never free these days.” Phainon greeted him back, a warmth in his chest. Leonnius’ duties grew more and more these days, often running around with a message from Mydeimos when he wasn’t able to leave Phainon’s side.

“Luck shone upon me today.” Leonnius said, his hands behind his head as he leaned back against the chair. “It’s slow and there are no messages to be ferried around. Though,” he blinked at Phainon in amusement, “I saw Ptolemy running past me in a panic. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was trying to outpace me.”

They shared a laugh and Phainon said, “You know he’s a worrier. I had some practice contractions earlier and he went off to fetch someone.” The relaxed smile disappeared off Leonnius' face and he straightened up.

“Contractions?!” He yelped, standing up and accidentally knocking the chair over.

Phainon huffed and rolled his eyes. “It was only the once! Honestly, you men are so quick to worry.”

“My lady, let us at least bring you back to your room. It’s close to the birthing chamber, just in case.” Leonnius looked at him pleadingly. When Phainon’s mouth set in a stubborn pout, he changed tactics. “You know Mydeimos would be devastated if you weren’t able to give birth on the comfort of a bed with a midwife tending to you. Just in case.” His voice got soft and cajoling, a hand held out as Phainon wavered. “Mydeimos is a worrywort when it comes to you.” He continued, letting out a quiet breath of relief as Phainon reluctantly nodded, placing his hand in Leonnius’ as he slowly stood up.

He let out a loud “Oof” as he felt his body weighing him down more, and another wave of pain went from his abdomen to his upper thighs. Phainon paused, his free hand freezing on his stomach.

“My lady?” Leonnius' voice pitched high and he switched hands to wrap one around Phainon’s waist to support him. The library doors opened again and Leonnius looked over, relief shining in his eyes.

“Ptolemy, quick!” He called out, and the sound of footsteps and something rolling got louder.

“What happened with the queen?” Ptolemy sounded stressed, so contrasting with his usual cool demeanor that Phainon snorted, wincing as the it sent pain down his groin.

“Ouch.” He muttered, and there was a pause before everyone reacted. Hands gently maneuvered him and sat him down on a chair—a wheelchair, he faintly registered as it began moving at a fast and steady roll—and he vaguely heard Ptolemy telling Leonnius to fetch Mydeimos before telling the servant to fetch the midwife as discomfort began gradually building up more and more.

Sweat beaded at his temple and Phainon let out strained groans, feeling like something was pushing down on him as he squeezed his thighs together. It kept pressing and pressing on him until there was a soft pop in the air and a sudden gush of water spilled out of him. Phainon curled into himself and he heard Ptolemy grow even more distressed as he was pushed faster and faster. Phainon took measured breaths, deep inhales and slow exhales, like he practiced with Perdikkas, and everything blurred for him after that.

Phainon vaguely remembered hands lifting him onto a firm mattress, pillows placed behind his head and the small of his back to elevate him as his legs were bent to plant his feet on the bed, spread open to allow the midwife access. His robes were parted and he let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of cool air brushing his heat skin, his eyes fluttering open as a damp towel patted his forehead. He saw the midwife and her two assistants, Ptolemy standing off to the side with stress lining his face as he tapped his foot impatiently, staring at the closed door. “Where in Titans’ name is Mydeimos?” He heard the man hiss to himself.

One birth assistant helped the midwife set everything up while the other made sure Phainon was clean, wiping him down with quick precision before returning to dab at his face. The pain grew worse and Phainon let out a moan, clutching the bedsheets in his hands. The midwife, an older woman with kind eyes and firm hands, looked at him and smiled. “Deep breaths, Your Majesty, and soon it will be time.” Phainon tried to smile back at her, wincing as a prick of pain hit his spine, and nodded.

“Where… is my husband?” He panted out, head leaning back onto the pillow. “I can’t start without him.” That was something he and Mydeimos were adamant about. Mydeimos had to be present for the birth of all his children, and that was also the king’s biggest fear, that he would be too far away and Phainon would have to do it on his own.

And yet it seemed fate was on their side, as the doors slammed open before anyone could respond to him, and his husband rushed in with windswept hair as Perdikkas followed him in and Ptolemy went out to wait with Leonnius outside the room. He went to the other side of Phainon and immediately cradled him in his arms. “I’m here, Phainon. Hephaestion will take over my duties for as long as we need. I will not leave your side until our children are safely born.” Phainon completely relaxed, leaning into his hold and smiling happily.

His muscles loosened and the midwife spoke up. “It’s time, Your Majesties.” Mydeimos held his hand and Phainon took a deep breath, starting to push.

Time blurred past him after that. There was painful pressure sliding down his spine, and his cunt pulsed, like his most painful cramps heightened by a dozen. He felt like he was on fire, like a log was trying to exit from him, and he kept hearing people talking and making noises and it hurt so badly, he just wanted it to be over with.

He crushed Mydeimos’ hand in his own with a powerful grip and his husband took it without even grunting, only pressing encouraging kisses to his face and telling him how strong he was, how beautiful, and just a little more, my love and Mydeimos’ words were the only thing that gave him the strength to go on, gritting his teeth as he pushed.

There was a brief relief as a small cry broke into the room, before pain crashed into him in large waves as it felt like an even bigger log was trying to escape him. He let out a scream behind clenched teeth and it felt like forever, like he was ripping apart, before a loud cry pierced the air and he collapsed onto the bed, weak and shaking.

A hand wiped him clean as water was pressed into his mouth, cool liquid soothing his aching throat, and Mydeimos whispered praises into his hair. He could barely move, but he forced his eyes open and saw two bundles of cloth, one held in the midwife’s arms and the other with a birth assistant. The midwife handed her bundle off to Mydeimos. “This one came first, and per tradition, the king must name him.” Oh, it was a boy. Phainon’s eyes welled up and he glanced up at Mydeimos, laughing at the awestruck look painted on his face.

Mydeimos’ eyes locked onto Phainon’s as he heard his laughter, and his face melted in adoration. “His name shall be Heliodoros.” Mydeimos said, his voice quiet yet so loud in the silent room. “My gift from my shining sun.” His trembling hands gently brushed against Heliodoros’ head and the baby yawned, settling against his father’s chest.

Another wail broke the silence and Phainon jolted, eyes darting over to the bundle in the birth assistant’s arms. She hurried over to Phainon, carefully arranging his arms before placing the crying bundle into his arms and the babe immediately calmed, face almost turned to Phainon. “Please name the Princess, Your Majesty.” Oh, a girl! Phainon smiled broadly. It was so rare to have both sexes in one brood, and at this moment he truly felt blessed with the body Kephale graced him with.

“My daughter, Adamantia.” He whispered at her, looking at her in all her perfection. That wrinkled little face and pink skin, her tiny fingers curled against her chest as she made little noises.

A strange feeling welled up in Phainon as he finally settled down. His children. His children with Mydeimos. Cradled in their arms, their tiny bodies pressed against them—their parents. Oh my Titans, Mydeimos and Phainon were parents.

“Our children.” Phainon breathed out, tears blurring his vision as he looked at his two greatest miracles. His little girl was yawning softly into the air as his son settled in Mydeimos’ firm embrace.

His husband kneeled on the bed, sinking down until Phainon could lean against his chest and lay his head down on a broad shoulder. “Mydeimos,” Phainon’s voice wobbled, an awe spreading through him that this was real, that he was really looking at the two little lives his husband and him brought into the world. “Mydeimos.” He repeated again, feeling a soft kiss against his sweaty temple.

“Yes, my heart?” Mydeimos whispered against his skin, breathing in deeply the scent of sweat and strength to bear life.

“We have babies.” Phainon said, turning to look at him with wide eyes. “Our babies.” He couldn’t stop repeating it, as if he said it enough times it would finally become reality for him—already was reality for him.

“We do,” there was such a gentle smile on his husband’s face and Phainon couldn’t help but lean in to press a sweet kiss to his lips. Mydeimos returned it without hesitation, pulling back just the slightest to ask, “Are you happy, my dearest wife?”

And Phainon truly meant it from the bottom of his soul when he whispered against Mydeimos’ loving lips, “Yes.”

Chapter Text

How the Heir is determined if there are multiple children:

When the child is able to, they are given the right to make a decision on whether or not they want to succeed the throne.

—> If only one child is interested, then that ends the matter. The decision is final, there is no changing their mind unless something incapacitates the Heir Apparent, in which case the child(ren) that previously refused must either start being trained to be the next Heir Apparent or they must find a successor they believe is capable/worthy of inheriting their right to the throne. The reason there is no changing their mind is simple—Castrum Kremnos will only follow a decisive leader. It might seem strict, but they have found that that is the best way for their nation, and unless something happens that proves otherwise, this will keep going on.

All the children’s education are geared towards being the monarch until they make their final decision, and the one who forfeits their claim is then eased off that education and onto a more general one angled towards their interests.

—> If more than one child is interested, then all of those children are put into training to become Heir Apparent. They receive the fitting education and are trained in combat. When all are deemed capable, they are given the right to issue a challenge to the other Heir(s) and a duel will be held on an agreed-upon time. Whoever is the champion of that duel becomes the Heir Apparent. All the Heirs are allowed to continuously issue challenges until the ruling monarch announces the day of their abdication. A month before that is when the Final Duel takes place that determines who becomes the lawfully recognized Heir Apparent—if there are more than two Heirs, then a two-to-three month long competition is held depending on the number of Heirs until one child is the champion.

After the Crown Prince/ss becomes the monarch, the remaining Heir(s) are, by technicality, the Heir Apparent(s) until said monarch has children, in which case those still willing to succeed the throne will have to issue a challenge to those children. Otherwise, the remaining Princes or Princesses can choose what they do in life. If the monarch is amendable, they may stay on as an Advisor, Commander, Minister—or they are free to go off and do anything. They no longer have an obligation to the throne unless an emergency situation occurs.

It is extremely vital that all the children foster a good relationship with one another. Intentional kin-slaying is completely looked down upon (unless in certain circumstances, such as Mydeimos slaying his father) and will result in immediate execution of the offending party by the current monarch. Underhanded tricks are not allowed, and being found out will have them automatically waiving their right to the throne and a punishment befitting the planned crime will be wrought on them by either the party they attempted to sabotage, or by the current monarch.

The entire succession is kept very private and secretive, so as not to reveal too much about the next monarch to the outside world. No one aside from the Kremnoans know when this takes place, how it is determined, and what characteristic of the next monarch was the deciding factor in crowning them.

If none of the children want the throne:

Then the current monarch, their spouse, the ministers, advisors, and the commanders will search for someone they deem capable. Preferably young so the knowledge and experience can be fostered early on, unless they come across someone exceptional at an older age. Preferably a Kremnoan, but special allowances can be made if the foreign party is vouched for on the recruiter’s honor.

Mydeimos and Phainon’s Children:

Heliodoros (“Gift of the sun”): Named by Mydeimos as the first child. Becomes Adamantia’s closest Advisor (and personal guard—which is kept a secret for a surprise factor).

- Why did Mydeimos choose this name? Because Phainon is his sun, so Heliodoros is his gift from Phainon.

- Nicknamed ‘Lio’ by Adamantia. Phainon and Mydeimos both call him ‘Little Hawk’.

- The older of the fraternal twins, which doesn’t hold meaning in the line of succession.

- Phainon’s hair, Mydeimos’ eyes. Third tallest in the family. Softer face, thin eyebrows, upturned nose, sharp jawline, thin lips. Well-muscled, though mostly hidden by the less revealing clothing he wears. Very little scars (the one he is most proud of was in defense of Phainon, who is known as the heart and soul of their family. Someone who was brutalized during Eurypon’s rule wanted to enact vengeance by taking the life of the person the royal family loves most. Mydeimos and Adamantia were out on an expedition—there’s a rotation so that at least one Heir remains in Castrum Kremnos at all times, both just in case something happens to the expeditioning members and to stay with their mother—when assassins snuck into the palace. Heliodoros killed all but one of them, and darted in front of Phainon when the remaining assassin threw a dagger towards him. A long cut from the bottom of his left cheek up across the bridge of his nose, barely missing his right eye and ending in the middle of his forehead. Luckily there wasn’t any poison and it didn’t get infected, so it heals into a bright silver scar that he proudly parades around).

- Bright, mischievous, decisive. Not very good at lying, his face is as expressive as Phainon’s, but surprisingly very politically inclined and is the main force during negotiations—Hephaestion’s protege. Charming with a sweet smile and pretty words. Quick to anger, but is very subtle about it. Something will happen to the offending party, but no one will be able to trace it back to Heliodoros. Sometimes his plans can veer into almost brutal, so his family has to rein him in.

- Androgynous in looks, so sometimes people who don’t know him only treat him as a pretty face (bad things start happening to them and they never know why it only stops when Heliodoros leaves, because someone that pretty couldn’t possibly be malicious, right?)

- Not as strong as his father or sister—though his ‘not as strong’ is still overpowering to anyone without Mydeimos’ blood. Prefers using a weapon, prioritizes agility and technique over pure strength. Uses both a broadsword and a rapier. When fighting multiple opponents, he uses his broadsword for a wider area of effect and to be able to apply more strength to it. When against 1-3 opponents, he uses his rapier for a longer reach and quicker movements—has a few daggers hidden on his person that he only uses with his rapier. Ambidextrous; he is able to fluidly wield both weapons with whichever hand he chooses—prefers using his right for the broadsword and the left for his rapier.

- Daddy’s boy. He reveres Mydeimos as a wise, powerful king and a doting, firm father. Likes sitting in on meetings and watching Mydeimos lead the room. Often assists him with the paperwork side of things that Mydeimos always tries to shove onto Hephaestion (he even tried to throw the King’s Stamp to Hephaestion at one point, when the documents piled high to the ceiling, who then proceeded to rip him a new one while Heliodoros watched in awe as his father crumbled in defeat). Runs cold so he can often be found draped onto his father’s back like a blanket. His most brutal revenges are saved for people who call Mydeimos a barbarian and look down on him as a mindless brute—these are also the only times his sister and mother turn a blind eye to his maliciousness.

- Favorite activity is to lounge in his late grandmother's garden with Phainon, his head in his mother’s lap as the queen reads to him. Also likes learning to cook (prefers savory dishes) and having Phainon taste test them (which can sometimes go wrong when Heliodoros gets heavy handed with seasoning—he mopes around like a sopping wet cat when Phainon’s stomach starts hurting until his mother cuddles him).

Adamantia (“Unconquerable”, “Unbreakable”): Named by Phainon. She is the next ruler.

- Why did Phainon choose this name? Because she came out with powerful lungs and couldn’t be calmed until Phainon had her cradled against him. Very strong grip even as a babe.

- Nicknamed ‘Ada’ by Heliodoros. Phainon calls her ‘Little Fire’ and Mydeimos calls her ‘Little Lion’.

- The younger of the fraternal twins, which doesn’t hold meaning in the line of succession.

- Mydeimos’ hair, Phainon’s eyes. Second tallest in the family. Very strong features, sharp eyebrows, Mydeimos’ nose, intense cat eyes, but a heart-shaped face and plush lips. Muscled like a god, wears less clothing because she finds it very irritating when it gets caught as a close combat fighter, has a number of scars along her body (the one she is most proud of is from the serious duel she demanded from Mydeimos when he abdicated, three deep slashes across her abdomen—from her hip, stretching across to right under her breast—Phainon couldn’t even be upset because Adamantia was very pleased with this trophy).

- Strong, decisive. She is extremely strategic in ways of combat. Less politically inclined than her brother, but still more than able to talk her way around everyone dumber than Hephaestion (which is basically everyone). Very slow to anger, but when she is pushed past her limit—very destructive. Can only be stopped by the sweet embrace of her mother, the physical suppression of her father, and her brother’s relentless nagging.

- Underestimated as a woman when out of Castrum Kremnos (at first, she took great offense to this, but soon learned how to take advantage of people’s misogyny from Lady Goldweaver).

- When she becomes the Queen of Castrum Kremnos and proves her might is no less than her father's, people are too scared of her to underestimate her anymore.

- More serious of the twins, better at hiding her mischievousness.

- Takes after her father’s strength, her style of fighting is more brute might. Her first weapon was crafted after Mydeimos’—heavy metal gauntlets with razor sharp talons and crevices that hurt if caught in flesh. Capable of wielding weapons if need be, prefers things that she can put her divine strength into and throw (javelins, spears, etc.)

- Absolute Mama’s Girl. She adores Phainon and always listens to him. Was called Phainon’s shadow when she was a toddler because she wouldn’t leave his side. Even more protective of him than Mydeimos—and the quickest way to anger her is by disrespecting her beloved mother. Runs hot like Mydeimos, so she can often be found cuddling Phainon during the hottest days in Castrum Kremnos.

- Favorite activity is hunting with her father and giving her spoils to Heliodoros for him to cook. Trains with the warriors almost everyday and likes learning more combat from them. During days where she’s expended most of her energy, she can be found napping in her parents’ bed.

The Twin’s Rite of Succession:

Both twins decide to honor their right to the throne when they hit ten years old. Everyone is a little surprised because Heliodoros never really seemed to care much for ruling, but the twins secretly promised each other to duel for the throne, and the remaining Heir would be that monarch’s Advisor.

Both twins are only okay with being ruled over by the other. They can’t stand the thought of taking orders or bending the knee to anyone outside of their father and their sibling. Adamantia wants a series of challenges from him and Heliodoros is always willing to indulge his sister.

Heliodoros and Adamantia duel each other twice a month, interchanging who proposes the duel, and they are currently at 182:178, in favor of Adamantia, when Mydeimos announces the date of his abdication. Sometimes Adamantia manages to overwhelm Heliodoros with her strength, and sometimes Heliodoros manages to outmaneuver her.

The entire kingdom buzzes with anticipation. Heliodoros and Adamantia decide to go into seclusion with a select group of mentors and everyone waits with bated breath until the Final Duel comes around.

The battle lasts three days and two nights and the grounds are absolutely decimated in their wake, dust and debris flying everywhere and clouding the sky, but when everything settles down, Adamantia has Heliodoros pinned to the ground by the throat and Heliodoros’ rapier is just barely out of his reach. The outcome has been decided: Adamantia, daughter of King Mydeimos “The Undying” and Queen Phainon “The White Saint”, is the new monarch of Castrum Kremnos.

Reply to comment by Guest “my okhema fam...TvT” 9-4-2025

Does Phainon ever meet his Okheman family again?

Yes. When the twins are a little over half-a-year old, Mydeimos finally invites Lady Goldweaver, Scholar Anaxagoras, and Heir Castorice to come meet them. Previously, he was worried that the appearance of those three might somehow cause Phainon to want to escape or try to broker a deal to go back to Okhema, or that those three might try to spirit Phainon back, damn the consequences—which Mydeimos would never agree to.

But with two children? Both sides would never even try to separate mother and child. The twins solidify Phainon’s absolute willingness to settle in Castrum Kremnos, to fully embrace Mydeimos as his husband, and his Okheman family are just happy to see him healthy and glowing. They see Mydeimos truly does care for Phainon beyond his beauty and that the Kremnoans treat Phainon very well, so their worries are finally gone.

When Mydeimos sees this, he knows he can allow more interactions. He invites them to Kremnoan festivals, to Phainon, his, and the twins’ birthday celebrations, and to their wedding anniversary that the whole of Castrum Kremnos throws a massive week-long festival for. He even allows Phainon to travel to Okhema for longer trips, taking one twin at a time before letting him take both (trips with both twins must be shorter than a week).

When the twins age up, they’re able to go visit their grandparents (Lady Goldweaver and Scholar Anaxagoras almost crash out the first time the twins tackle them into a hug while chirping out “Grandma!” and “Grandpa!”) and aunt (Heir Castorice weeps tears of joy the first time she hears it) without an adult accompanying them.

For a period of time, Heliodoros actually studies in Okhema under Scholar Anaxagoras and learns his way of alchemy and research. When Adamantia becomes Heir Apparent and has her first run in with being looked down on as a woman, she almost loses her temper until Lady Goldweaver extends an invitation to mentor her as another female ruler. Mydeimos accepts and she stays there until a week before her coronation.

(It does actually take a while for Lady Goldweaver, Scholar Anaxagoras, and Heir Castorice to forgive Mydeimos for snatching Phainon away so unforgivingly, but they do eventually admit to themselves that he has given Phainon a quality of life that they couldn’t without rumors and discourse about favoritism from the citizens and churches of other Titans. So they accept Mydeimos as their family as well and he is also extended invitations to celebrations and festivals.)

Their contract also gets reworked until it’s equal between both sides. They are each other’s only true allies and both of them are the ruling forces on Amphoreus.

Reply to comment by Guest “Babies!!!!” 9-4-2025

Do Phainon and Mydei have more children?

Oh, 33550336% yes. There’s no way Mydeimos would ever be satisfied with only two children from Phainon. Their third child is a girl (haven’t thought of a name) but they have at least 5 in my mind. Whether or not the remaining two are another set of twins is up to you guys haha.

(I actually initially planned for Phainon to have triplets but I think three whole ass Kremnoan children with Mydeimos’ genes might actually be what takes Phainon out and not his husband’s massive co—*gets bonked*)

Reply to User “Evus”  9-4-2025

Where are the other Chrysos Heirs?

They’re all either in Okhema or scattered around Amphoreus. None of them participated in raising Phainon nor did they grow up with him, so there was no reason to write them into the story or give them dialogue. 

Since the Black Tide doesn’t exist in this world, technically none of the Chrysos Heirs would exist in the same time as each other, and they would not have had to take refuge in Okhema, but for the sake of this story, I used Aglaea, Castorice, and Anaxa. 

Aglaea because she is canonically the leader of the Chrysos Heirs, Castorice because she’s my favorite after MyPhai (I E6S1'd her. She and my wife Phainon are my mains :P), and Anaxa because while he and Aglaea would butt heads constantly, his brilliance would be absolutely vital for Okhema to remain independent. 

Tribios would remain in Janusopolis as the Holy Maiden. They would have friendly relations with Okhema but Janusopolis would be its own entity, since they are canonically pretty religious and extremely reluctant to part from their city-state (when we first land in Amphoreus as TB and they refused to leave until people were almost killed by Titankin). They are self-reliant and I don’t see them needing to have an alliance with anyone. I like to think Tribios has some sort of foresight that allows her to keep Janusopolis safe and out of Mydeimos’ reach, and that Mydeimos would leave them alone for two reasons: 1. They have nothing he needs, 2. It would be a waste of resources and manpower to try to conquer an entity that always seems two steps ahead.

As for Cerydra and Hysilens, I have not played 3.5 and therefore I have no confidence in writing them. I imagine they were the founders of Okhema and have since passed on and left a legacy in the history of Okhema. 

Hyacine would mainly be in the Grove, traveling back and forth between there and Okhema like she does in the game. There are no Coreflames and no truly ‘divine’ powers, and Okhema has their own set of doctors, so she’s not needed unless there are extreme circumstances. 

Cipher would be a traveler/nomad. Maybe she’ll stop in Okhema to play around and spend time with Aglaea, but you can’t capture the wind so she’ll go anywhere she pleases. I imagine Bartholos to be a particularly long-living cat companion. 

Reply to User “Evus”  9-4-2025

Have the twins asked their parents publicly about more siblings?

The twins don’t have a preference for whether or not they have siblings.

Adamantia’s heard the stories of the difficulties Phainon endured to carry them, two children with Mydeimos’ Kremnoan genes, and worries about the effects more kids will have on his body and mind. She’s the most protective of Phainon, and the thought of watching her mother struggle pains her. If Phainon wishes to carry more children, Adamantia will be right by his side supporting him throughout all of it. Phainon is the only one who gets Adamantia’s gentleness, because he isn’t a Kremnoan by blood and he doesn’t have their sturdiness. Heliodoros is mildly interested in the thought of younger siblings, but he tends to follow/think the same as Adamantia, so he also doesn’t really care for seeing his mother weakened and exhausted.

Of course, they’re more than ecstatic when Phainon does become pregnant again, because Mydeimos and Phainon are happy and that’s all the twins care about. They do grow to love all their little siblings as they’re born though.

Reply to User “Evus” 9-4-2025

How will everyone react if the twins have spouses? What if the spouses are foreign?

For Adamantia and Heliodoros, being overprotective of them or trying to ‘shield’ them from suitors is akin to disrespecting their ability to protect themselves. The both of them have grown up under the loving care of Mydeimos and Phainon, and their view of love and relationships is modeled after their parents (specifically after Mydeimos and Phainon are mutually in love). They see how utterly devoted their parents are to each other, and anything less than that is unacceptable to them.

As for their spouse being a foreigner—it would be very hypocritical if anyone disapproved of it, considering Phainon is also a foreigner, and not just a foreigner, but one from Castrum Kremnos’ biggest potential threat at the time. As long as the twins’ spouses honor and love them, no one cares about their origins. The Kremnoans didn’t care that Phainon was an Okheman nun, they saw his virtue, his resilience, and loved him for it. It is ability and capability above all for them.

For Adamantia, I see her as more of a free spirit. She might take as many lovers as she wants, maybe she'll marry one, maybe she’ll marry multiple—or maybe she’ll go to whoever she wishes to please her at that moment. Her heart unwaveringly lies with her family, though she has some space to spare for others. I don’t see her personally carrying any children, because she genuinely enjoys combat and being physical, and with all the books she’s read about the sometimes irreversible effects pregnancy has on a woman’s body, there’s no way she’ll risk anything taking away her ability to hunt. Maybe when her thrill of adventure starts to simmer down, she’ll think about it, but with her many siblings and their children (should they have any), she currently feels that her family is more than large enough for her. She might even adopt, if she comes across a child interesting enough to raise.

For Heliodoros, I think he would be the one to marry a foreigner. Maybe someone from the Grove, who can match his wit and almost grey morality when it comes to research and his way of thinking. His spouse definitely has to be someone who can keep up with him and watch over him quietly, willing to lend their hand in support but not overstep themselves.

I honestly don’t see either twin actively trying to have children because both of them are highly ambitious and there are still things they wish to achieve in life that don’t have space for a child in them. In their younger years, they did worry about leaving the throne bereft of an Heir, but Mydeimos and Phainon reassured them that while it would be easier to select a successor from the twins’ children, above all the Kremnoans value strength and ability, with bloodline being a slightly lesser priority than the first two. Not all Kremnoan monarchs come from the same blood, because anyone has the right to challenge the ruling monarch for their crown, and sometimes those challengers have won and replaced the defeated monarch’s blood with their own.

Reply to User “Evus” 9-4-2025

How do the Kremnoans react to Adamantia being disrespected as a woman?

It’s of a similar line of thinking to the above question—trying to white knight or ‘come to her defense’ is essentially saying that they do not have faith in her ability to protect or stand up for herself. The Kremnoans find it utterly laughable how people from the outside view women, especially how they could view a Kremnoan Queen as weak, when everyone knows the current ruling monarch is always the undefeated strongest in their kingdom.

Besides, as mentioned in Chapter 2, the Kremnoans also favor people underestimating them, because it makes them lower their guard against them and then it becomes almost child’s play to brutally conquer them.

Of course they are angry. They hold their ruling monarch and their spouse in the highest honor, and it burns at them to have said monarchs questioned, but they will not act unless given permission by said monarchs—and Adamantia has never needed someone to act for her when she can do it perfectly fine herself.

Reply to User “Evus” 9-4-2025

How did Mydeimos fall in love with Phainon so instantly and why was he so determined to get him even at the cost of a much needed alliance? How did the people of Okhema react to this?

This is only mentioned once in the very beginning paragraphs of the first chapter, but Mydeimos is freshly 18 when he becomes the new king of Castrum Kremnos, and the request for an alliance comes soon after. So when he meets Phainon, he’s not even 20 yet. This is a man who has spent his entire life on the run, fighting and having to resort to subterfuge until he was strong enough and prepared enough to slay his father. He’s only been around his fellow Kremnoans who are just like him, genetically absolute units. Super tall, super buff, crazy resilient and with an innate thirst for combat. He’s never seen anyone like the people of Okhema—least of all someone like Phainon, whose beauty stands out even among people like Lady Goldweaver and Heir Castorice. Like Mydeimos said in Chapter 1, Phainon looks like something holy, almost untouchable and pristine in a way he just wants to ruin. Phainon is free of malice, his naivety protected by his second family and his vows to Kephale. Mydeimos falls in love instantly with his saint-like beauty and the purity of his sun-marked eyes—and also, Mydeimos has no respect for the Titans, so the more they try to use Phainon’s vow to Kephale as their reasoning for why Phainon can’t marry him, the more he wants Phainon.

And keep in mind that Mydeimos is still very young. He’s hormonal, the only intimate relations he’s had is with people from Castrum Kremnos, and that was only to relieve adrenaline and teenage boy libido. Phainon is the first time he wants and Mydeimos acts based on his desires, because he has complete and utter faith in his companions’ abilities to back him up and mitigate any of his recklessness. Mydeimos doesn’t even pay attention during the meeting because he never once doubted Hephaestion’s ability to talk his way into something profitable for their people, and Hephaestion has never failed to give Mydeimos what he wants. To Mydeimos, the rejection and reluctance of Phainon’s family to give Phainon to him is just an annoyance he can easily solve by killing them—he doesn’t think about the consequences because he’s never had consequences. Castrum Kremnos is ruled by the strong, and he is the undisputed strongest. In Chapter 1, Krateros even has to talk him down from waging war on Okhema, so Mydeimos already had very lax feelings towards the entire alliance which he only requested under the advice of his mentor. You could argue that he falls in lust at first sight, then after Phainon is his wife, it turns to love, and once Mydeimos has his heart set on something (or someone), it will never waver.

To the people of Okhema, the news of Mydeimos’ abduction causes two reactions:

1. It only proves to them that the prejudice of the Kremnoans being savages are true, that they will stop at nothing to have something they desire. The mad king Eurypon being replaced by his equally willful and dangerous son Mydeimos. This is comprised of a smaller population in Okhema who came as refugees due to being displaced during Eurypon’s reign of terror.

2. Relief. In exchange for protection and an alliance with a power that is currently brutally conquering most of the known world, one single nun of Kephale. One life, for a lifetime of peace and prosperity. Nuns of Kephale are aplenty, and Phainon had his face covered the entire time he was in the church, so no one knows who he is or his relation to the ruling family of Okhema. All they know is, Mydeimos wants a nun in exchange for an alliance, so obviously they’ll give him that nun to keep his fangs pointed away from them—in fact, they even praise said nun for ‘taming the beast of Castrum Kremnos’. This is the majority consensus.

Reply to User “ElitaPond” 9-10-2025

Is there any angst in this universe?

Honestly, I planned for there to be way more angst from Phainon about his whole situation, but the story was getting too long so I ended up scraping it and letting it end on a happy mutual love route. I did have two big angst things though.

1. Essentially, if we actually look at his entire circumstance, then it’s made abundantly clear that Mydeimos didn’t care at all how Phainon felt about being taken out of Okhema, forcibly wed to him, and then forced to give his virginity to him. He displaced someone who is already a refugee because his birthplace was ravaged by Mydeimos’ father, and now he is forced to live among the people who destroyed Aedes Elysiae. It doesn’t really matter how much the people of Castrum Kremnos adore and revere him—they killed his people and burned his home. And considering that Phainon is still quite young (I put him in his mid-20’s), then the people who actively took part in Aedes Elysiae’s downfall most likely are still alive and interacting with him, all the while not knowing that this queen they worship the ground of is the only living member of an entire village buried in ash by their hands.

Sure, maybe some of them didn’t want to do it, maybe they were forced to under loyalty—but they still did it. And nothing can change that.

There’s also the coercion. By the end of Chapter 4, Phainon fully accepts his fate of living and dying in Castrum Kremnos and accepts Mydeimos as his husband, but he didn’t want this life. He didn’t dream of being swept off his feet and carried off to a foreign land away from his second family, he didn’t ask for his love towards his second family to be what chains him to Mydeimos or for all the lives in Okhema to rest solely on his submission to Mydeimos as his wife, he didn’t ask to lose his virginity to a man he barely knows, and he didn’t ask to give birth to twins for that same man. But that’s where his life ended up and all he can do is make the most of it and move forward.

But that would have made this story way too long, so aside from vaguely mentioning his home in Chapter 3 and some existential crisis from Phainon in Chapter 4, Phainon never brings it up nor does he display any negative emotions about his home or Mydeimos’ actions. Whether or not he eventually confronts Mydeimos is entirely up to your imagination.

2. Heliodoros and Adamantia finding out about how their parents met and married. The both of them are rightfully horrified and stunned, because for all their lives, Mydeimos and Phainon are the absolute power couple: completely in love and devoted to one another, still so into each other despite all the years that have passed, and always on the same wavelength; so to know that the foundation of their parents started from something so non-consensual really shakes the two of them up. It makes their relationship with Mydeimos rocky for some time, especially Adamantia who adores her mother to the very depths of the Netherworld and beyond the Cosmos. They find themselves struggling to overlap the image of their father—firm, kind, doting, and utterly smitten with his wife—with the image of Mydeimos the newly crowned king—forceful, selfish, and coercive—and the rebuilding of their relationship takes a bit of time and plenty of talking with Phainon, who reassures them that while he never expected his life to take this direction, he truly could not imagine a better world for himself. His people would wage wars for even the most minimal of slights against him, his husband bows to his every whim and spares no effort in spoiling him, and all his children love him beyond measure. His family in Okhema are still very present in his life, and he has been able to experience things he never would have gotten the chance to if he stayed a nun of Kephale.

And despite it all, Mydeimos is an incredible father and husband, a just king, and a righteous man. Heliodoros and Adamantia have always looked up to him for the strength of his will and unfaltering convictions, so they eventually soften up to him again and they return to being the doting father and his faithful children. It helps that Phainon truly does seem more than satisfied with his life, and even incredibly happy about where he is now.

(I hate ending on angst, so it is all pure love <3).