"You had to know me?!" Neoptolemus bristles, gritting his teeth, and he tears his wounded hand from his father's grasp. He doesn't want to touch his father right now. He's not even sure he wants to talk to his father right now. "What did you think I'd do? Pick her up and beat Grandfather to death with her?"
Lykos fumbles as he tries to gather the required materials, his hands starting to shake, but he takes a moment to pause, breathing onto his palms to soothe himself before pulling out a bottle of vinegar and scraps of cloth. Neoptolemus draws away from Achilles, pacing like a caged lion with his hand held up, the blood leaving a trail as he goes. As the dappled moonlight hits him, his injured eye looks pure red, and the pupil isn't dilating.
"Did you just get in touch because of her?" He bares his teeth as he asks, demanding an answer. But the thought feels like a hot iron on his heart. That his father might have dismissed him as unworthy of attention until he had a new, better child, one with worthier heritage, that he might need a man to one day watch over.
no subject
Lykos fumbles as he tries to gather the required materials, his hands starting to shake, but he takes a moment to pause, breathing onto his palms to soothe himself before pulling out a bottle of vinegar and scraps of cloth. Neoptolemus draws away from Achilles, pacing like a caged lion with his hand held up, the blood leaving a trail as he goes. As the dappled moonlight hits him, his injured eye looks pure red, and the pupil isn't dilating.
"Did you just get in touch because of her?" He bares his teeth as he asks, demanding an answer. But the thought feels like a hot iron on his heart. That his father might have dismissed him as unworthy of attention until he had a new, better child, one with worthier heritage, that he might need a man to one day watch over.