Since I'm getting ready for a convention and instead of sleeping I'm printing out prints (I'll be taking a nap on the train lol), so I drew them while it, need to do a lot more of them ha ha.
Kretisches Kaffeetagebuch: Diktéon Ántron - die Höhle des Zeus
Am Anfang war das Chaos. Es gibt schon Materie, jedoch keine Form und keine Ordnung. Aus dem Chaos entsteht als erste Göttergeneration die Erde Gaia, die Unterwelt Tartaros, die Liebe Eros, die Finsternis Erebos und die Nacht Nyx. Aus der Verbindung von Nyx und Erebos gehen der Tag Hemera und die Luft Aither hervor. Gaia gebiert aus sich selbst das Meer Pontos, die Berge Ourea und den…
Half-human, half-fae, Amaltheia has always felt out of place. Too kind for the fae. Too cold for the mortals. Her sharp tongue is less cutting than it is cunning, a mere product of growing up among those who relish in cruelty, but it’s enough to keep most people on edge, weary—no matter her intention. That is to say: Amaltheia has always been alone. That is to say: nobody has ever been willing to come close enough to change that.
INTERVIEW
Amaltheia, how old are you?
386? No, maybe 387. Oh, this is embarrassing. I don’t know for sure. The fae are more likely to track their age by centuries, if they keep track of it at all and—well. It feels very silly to celebrate your birthday on your own, doesn’t it? Let’s say 387. Seven’s are lucky, aren’t they?
How would you describe yourself?
These questions are difficult. Do I have to describe myself at all? I think it’s much more interesting to get to know someone on your own. What would you say? Do you think pleasantries and mere words are enough to capture someone in their entirety?
AMALTHEIA WAS REPRIMANDED FOR INTENTIONALLY FLUSTERING THE INTERVIEWER AND, WHEN PRESSED, WROTE DOWN HER ANSWER WITH THE EXCUSE “I DON’T AGREE WITH THIS, SO IT COUNTS AS A LIE.”.
AMALTHEIA’S TRAITS ARE: LOVES THE OUTDOORS, FAMILY ORIENTED, AND MUSIC LOVER.
Alright, well, what are some things that you like?
Oh, this is much more interesting. Singing and dancing, though I doubt you’ll find a fae that doesn’t, so it’s not very unique. But I can play most instruments, actually, and that’s more uncommon among my court. Not that it impresses anyone—the Fair Folk are not meant to demean themselves with something like a cornet, but I find it quite fun. The color brown, the color orange. Green, too. I like plants. My… My father’s estate has a lovely garden. I spent much of my time there, as a child.
And I think human food is intriguing. That might be the novelty of it, more than anything else.
Anything you dislike?
Ugh, wearing only white. How do you keep it clean? And tulle. It scratches. I’m not the biggest fan of sports, either, now that I think about it, and I simply don’t have the attention span for those handcrafts. Knitting? Is that what it’s called? I suppose that. Of course, like any fae, I don’t like ill-mannered people. I’m not going to go pulling anyone under the hill about it, but, well. We’re creatures with long memories and longer grudges. That means something.
HISTORY
The unfortunate truth about the Fair Folk is that, unlike humans, they are not social creatures. Of course, they partake in their parties and their revels, their games of mischief and murder. They interact with each other. But they are violent, cold creatures, and even their socialization is not so much a matter of interaction as it is entertainment. It is fun to hurt one another when you are fae.
The unfortunate truth about Amaltheia is that—unlike the fae, and agonizingly like the humans—she is a social creature. She aches for it: to exist around another creature, and to do so kindly. It’s not easy, to be raised by the fae, knowing that mortal blood is worthless and that she had it, filth in her own veins. If it could have been ignored, it would be easier, but it could not be ignored.
Amaltheia, young, with cat-eyes glinting—eyes that were a warm, human green instead of the swirling, iridescent shades of her peers—scooping a baby bird to her chest and crying instead of breaking its fragile neck. Amaltheia, maturing faster than her peers, with her heart in her throat, unable to watch the tournaments without being sick in her father’s viewing box. Amaltheia, different. Amaltheia, worse.
Amaltheia, so heartbreakingly human.
And so heartbreakingly fae. Just enough to make her an outsider when she stepped foot anywhere but the court. Just enough to ensure that everyone held their breath when she was near; just enough to ensure that she could never truly fit, not anywhere.
But she is still… kinder, than her peers. And as much as the fae dislike her, revile her, detest her mortal blood and her gentle heart, they dislike the mortal realm more. So when courtesy calls—and it does call, because to fail to invite the fae to a gathering is to instead welcome bloodshed to your door—it calls for Amaltheia. It’s almost a win for everyone. The Fair Folk stay out of the human realm, which they hate so viciously. The other occults get to avoid the fae, except for Amatheia, who is cold instead of cruel. And Amaltheia gets to be around people. She is a social creature, after all.
There is something to be said for being the most tolerable, even if you are only tolerated. But often, in the warmth of the Christmas parties at the Goulding hotel, Amaltheia feels... more than tolerated. For that reason, she looks forward to it each year.
ADDITIONAL
Amaltheia has two "looks". Meaning, there is an expectation for how she should look among the fae and as a representative of their court, and then there is how Amaltheia likes to look. There's a clear difference, so I won't over-explain it, but below is Amaltheia's Fair Folk look and some extra outfits.
Also, I did a couple edits of her with her slightly older version—please ignore any discrepancies, but I think they're fun, so I'm throwing them in too!
[concept: you've woken up in an unfamiliar forest, subject to an impossible creature's concern]
[concept: an old photo taken by a friend lost long, long ago.]
I was talking with the wonderful @faehistorian about Amaltheia and Rhythm’s relationship as childhood friends. I thought it would be cute if in the future Rhythm dedicated his knight’s oath to her, and this is the result of my super fluffy tooth-rotting childhood friend brainrot.
Even as a child, Rhythm knew he wanted to become a knight when he came of age. Seeing his mother and all the knights in training staying at their estate had always excited him. His family had always been known for producing some of the best knights in the Valley of Thorns, so it was only expected at least one of the potential heirs would excel in their swordsmanship. Upon his request to be trained, however, his mother asked him why he wanted to become a knight.
“Glory!” Rhythm answered. It was obvious really. He’d read stories about the noble escapades of knights in books and been told about his own mother’s exploits on the battlefield by his father. The innocent response brought a chuckle out of his mother, and Rhythm pouted. She wasn’t taking him seriously. “Why did you become a knight then, Mama?”
“Because I had people I wanted to protect. People important enough I was willing to die to make sure they were safe,” Azul ruffled Rhythm’s hair as she spoke. “Becoming a knight takes a lot of dedication. I know you’ll be a good knight if you put your mind to it, but you need to have a specific goal in mind if you want to be a great one.”
Rhythm thought about his mother’s answer for a while. At least, he spent much longer thinking about it than he normally would anything else. A knight’s purpose was to protect, so of course the logical goal he should come up with was to protect something important. Did he have anything important enough that he was willing to die for though? He wouldn’t get his answer for a very long time, but it eventually came to him in the form of Amaltheia.
Amaltheia and Rhythm had known each other since childhood. There was rarely a moment spent without each other outside of their respective households. Much to the ire of Malleus, the two grew up very close, and continued with their affectionate gestures towards each other into their teens. Of course, the personal relationships of both princesses were great interest to the public, and it didn’t take long for rumors to spread throughout the kingdom that there was an engagement planned between the Valley’s second princess and the Attwood’s family’s first son. It was one of the main reasons that the king had decided to send his precious daughter to an all girl’s school instead of allowing her to attend college with her childhood friend.
Amaltheia was, to put it lightly, inconsolable. Rhythm was with her when her father had told her about his decision, and he felt an uncomfortable sense of helplessness as he watched her cry tears of frustration and demand her father change his mind. He realized in that moment that his Theia was the one he wanted to protect most. But with the way he was now, he was nowhere near close to being strong enough to do so. She was the second princess of the Valley of Thorns, and there was no way a princess could ever be entrusted to a rich kid with no experience in battle.
“Theia, come here,” Rhythm pulled the girl close to him, gently holding her hands in his own in a subtle attempt to calm her down. “For once, I agree with your dad. I think it would be better for you to attend an all-girls school.”
“What?” Amaltheia’s pained expression cut clean through his heart. “Why? You don’t want to get rid of me, do you?”
“No, no, of course not. If it were up to me, I’d be with you all the time,” Rhythm took his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “But the bottom line is, even if we go to the same school, I won’t be able to stay by your side all the time, especially if we’re assigned to different classes. You’ll be safer at an all-girls school.” Amaltheia gripped her skirt tightly in her hands, head hanging in defeat. It was two against one, and if Rhythm was agreeing with her dad, there wasn’t much she could argue with. “It’ll only be a few years, Theia. We’ve been together for the better part of a century. I promise I’ll write you every day. I’ll even visit you if you need me to.”
After receiving a reluctant nod of agreement from the young princess, Rhythm looked up to Malleus to see a disagreeable grimace plastered over his face. As usual, it seemed the king didn’t approve of the skinship between them.
Just like he promised, Rhythm wrote to Amaltheia every day he attended Night Raven College. No matter how tired he was after training sessions, how long the dorm leader meetings went over the scheduled finishing time, how sore his hands were from all the homework and paperwork he had to complete, he always looked forward to sealing another letter for his childhood friend. He responded to every one of her requests that he visit immediately, regardless of whether he had classes that day or not, bringing gifts that had reminded him of her and pastries he had learned to bake from his mother.
In the meantime while they were apart, Rhythm took it upon himself to improve himself in any way possible. While he retained his troublemaking tendencies and lax attitude toward doling out punishments to the students in his dorm, Rhythm pushed himself to his limits over the four years he spent at Night Raven College, physically, mentally, and intellectually. With his tenacity, he and his older sister, Rhyme, certainly lived up to the example set by their father who had attended the school decades before, but would it be enough to consider himself worthy of standing beside a princess?
He graduated from Night Raven College with full marks much to the delight and surprise of his parents and a few weeks after returning home, he completed his training as a knight under his mother as a squire. Those weeks were the longest of Rhythm’s life. Unfortunately, Amaltheia wasn’t set to return to the Valley until the day before the knighting ceremony due to a difference in scheduling for their schools.
It must have been confusing to her when he didn’t appear in the crowd of trainees that were to be knighted by her father. Rhythm watched in an anxious excitement as her eyes scanned the group before her expression fell. Did he feel a bit guilty about not letting Amaltheia know about his plan beforehand? A bit. But he opted to sink further into the crowd of witnesses behind his mother so she couldn’t accidentally catch a glimpse of him.
Watching his fellow knights in training receive their titles was quite touching, but Rhythm had more important matters to tend to. He quietly whispered to his older sister, asking Rhyme to bring the second princess to the royal garden after the ceremony was done and made his way out of the building.
Rhythm stepped into the folly gazebo that he and Amaltheia had spent many summer afternoons in together. It was an unusually sunny day for the Valley. The black rose bushes that had been planted in their childhood had grown into the intricate metal displays of the structure, providing ample shade. As he waited, Rhythm ran a hand along one of the railings, feeling a small dent in one of the metal poles that they had accidentally made and promised not to tell anyone about. It was hardly noticeable, but he remembered it fondly as a small secret that only the two of them shared.
“Rhythm!” the familiar voice of his childhood friend rang through the garden followed by the quick clicks of shoes against cobblestone. The bluenette turned to see Amaltheia quickly running towards him and Rhyme quietly ushering the kingdom’s first princess, Lazuli away from the entrance of the garden. He took a few steps forward and caught her as she leaped toward him. Shifting her weight in his arms, he gently brought his free arm under her knees and set her down on one of the seats in the gazebo. As soon as she was safely sat down, Rhythm felt her hands pull his face up toward her and squeeze against his cheeks. “Why weren’t you at the ceremony? Do you know how worried I was? Did something happen during your training? What sort of trouble did you get into that got you held back?”
Rhythm chuckled as Amaltheia continued to rapid fire questions at him. He let her finish her ramblings, looking fondly up at her as she continued to squeeze and pull at his cheeks. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself you troublemaker?” Ignoring the blatant hypocrisy of her insult toward him, he repositioned himself from her side to kneel on his knee in front of her while holding her hand to his forehead.
“Princess Amaltheia Draconia, beloved summer of our kingdom” Rhythm could tell that the use of her full title surprised her from the shuffling of her skirt as she fixed her posture in nervousness. “I’ve been training since childhood to one day become a knight and you have been my greatest pillar of support on my journey. Like the title of summer bestowed upon you, you’ve brought endless warmth into my life and have always been the most important existence in this world to me. While I am lacking in many qualities of a suitable knight, I hope that you’ll accept my personage, strengths and flaws, and allow me the honor of swearing my oath to you.”
