Tender devotion, barely there

Chapter 1 - Turquoise

Achilleus walks along the beach, admiring the seafoam that bubbles and rolls over his feet. He thinks of his mother, a goddess of the sea. He wonders where she is now. He stops for a moment to watch the orange sun kiss the horizon, the sea before him a rosy pink.

The sunset has faded, the sky enveloped in darkness now, by the time Achilleus ventures back inside. On his way to his room, he stops in front of his father's door, only to find it ajar. He peeks inside. His father does not notice him. His father is talking to one of his advisors.

"In Opus, you say?" Speaks the king Peleus

"Yes, every king who's worthy of being spoken of has visited him, seeking his blessing. He blesses very few."

King Peleus scoffs. "I have seen divinity- real divinity- before. I know some omega is not worthy of being worshipped to the extent of a god just because he supposedly can bring fertility to those he approves of."

His advisor sighs before turning away and Achilleus runs to his room, heart pounding. An omega? A male omega? Achilleus, as an alpha, is not permitted to even speak to omegas, but the omegas he does know are all female. Male omegas are exceedingly rare, especially royal ones. Because of this, male omegas are often worshipped and are said to bring fertility and prosper to anyone who receives their blessing.

He sprawls himself out on his bed and stares at his ceiling, which he has decorated with intricate designs painted in turquoise. Turquoise has always been his favourite colour, he's never been quite sure why. Maybe because it is the colour of the sea? But that doesn't feel like the full answer.

He sighs and closes his eyes, his mind stirring with thoughts of this mysterious male omega. Curiosity tries to fight back against his exhaustion, but eventually gives way to let sleep envelop him.

—

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore is much louder this morning than most other mornings. That means one thing, Thetis is here.

Achilleus groans and pulls himself out of bed, washing himself up and reading himself for his meeting with his mother. He pulls on a turquoise chiton, lined with gold, and heads out to the beach to find her.

In the waves, a freakishly slender figure looms. Her hair is dark and long, her skin is much too pale, her lips are a vibrant red. Those blood red lips curl up in a smile, revealing sharp teeth and a forked tongue. "Achilleus, my boy." Thetis smiles and opens her arms, offering him a hug.

Achilleus squeaks in excitement and runs to embrace his mother, who gently pats his head as they hold one another. "How has training been?" She asks after they break apart.

"Oh, same as always, Mother. There is nothing you can improve when it comes to perfection." Achilleus puffs out his chest and smiles pridefully.

Thetis huffs. "There is always room for improvement, my prideful son. Just because you are to be a god doesn't mean you should start acting like one just yet." Her voice may sound serious, but Achilleus knows his mother well enough to dissect the amusement hidden beneath it.

There is silence for a moment until Thetis brings up the topic Achilleus dreaded. "Your father is old, my kin. Soon, you will need to succeed him." She tries to bring it up gently, but Achilleus groans loudly and turns away, only for Thetis' spindly hand to grab his arm, her long, sharp nails digging into his skin unintentionally. He turns back to face her, scowling. "Achilleus, you need to find a wife! Someone to ascend the throne with you, someone competent, too. I have been searching, but have not found much luck..." She bites her lip pensively, her grip on his arm loosening.

Achilleus can't help but think of the conversation he had overheard last night. A male omega. In Opus.

No.

He smothers the hope tugging at his heart strings. Why should he be so enamoured with this stranger? Maybe because he was raised with the idea that male omegas are the purest things on earth, they bless the land with rich harvests and prosperous soil. They also bless their mates with plentiful children. Achilleus thinks, against his better judgement.

There is a layer of tension over the conversation now, and it doesn't take long before they bid their goodbyes to one another and Thetis dives back into the crashing waves.

Achilleus looks up at the sky, the sun having just finished the sunrise but 30 minutes ago. He decides to walk into town, maybe see what the market has to offer.

As he passes by, strangers whisper in adoration when they see him. Aristos Achaion, they whisper, Best of the Greeks. It gives him quite the ego boost.

The strangers who don't whisper of his many feats, however, gossip about only one other topic. The Opian prince.

"A male omega? I don't believe it."

"I've already packed my bags, I'm going to Opus."

"Now I wouldn't mind a lovely omega like him in my bed."

"They say his skin is the same colour as fertile soil."

"No one's seen his face! He's always veiled."

Achilleus can't help but conjure up an image in his head of this omega prince. Skin as smooth as water, as dark and rain-wet soil, soft curls only a shade or two darker than his skin. The image is appetising, but hard to imagine. They say he's 10 times as beautiful as Helen of Sparta. Now, that was hard to imagine. He'd never seen the girl up close, but he'd gotten glimpses every now and then.

Even though he hasn't bought anything, he makes his way out of the market. He can't handle another second of these tantalising thoughts.

But a glint catches his eye. It's a brooch of turquoise gemstones, accented with a vivid green, set in a golden frame. It is of the shape of a small laurel branch, a shape which he has seen many times before. But nonetheless, he buys it from the old lady selling it. He stumbles over himself as he makes his way home, too busy admiring the trinket.

When he returns to the palace, he hardly has time to tuck the jewel away in his room before he's thrust into more training.

That night, he collapses into his bed in exhaustion. He hardly has time to think one thought before sleep snatches him away, but the one thought that does cross his mind is of this mysterious boy. He needs to see him with his own eyes, lest his own hunger devour himself.