Brothers In Arms [Stelios/Astinos] Drabble

May 08, 2010 17:16

Title: Brothers In Arms
Author: bloodonmyarms
Pairing: Stelios/Astinos
Fandom: 300

Author's Notes/Summary: Just a PG gen(ish) drabble about everyone's favourite Spartans. Set the night before the march to Thermopylae. Movie-verse.



Astinos pulled his cloak around him tighter as the chill of the night air grazed against his skin. He supposed he should go back to the barracks soon and sleep, make sure he was rested for tomorrow. But he couldn’t sleep. His mind was plagued with worry. Would Leonidas accept him tomorrow and let him march with the other soldiers or would he send him away, saying he was too young or inexperienced for such a mission? And if he did accept him then Astinos would march to a battle they probably wouldn’t win - they had all prepared their uniform with their crimson cloaks after all - and that brought worries of its own. But Astinos wouldn’t let himself think of those, he couldn’t.

Astinos turned at the sound of wheat being bent and broken under a Spartan heel. “Noticed you weren’t in your bed.” Stelios’s voice, low and raspy, cut through the stillness of the night but Astinos found, had always found, it quite lovely.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replied. “Just came out here to gather my thoughts.”
Stelios came to stand near to Astinos, but didn’t seat himself. Instead he surveyed the field, as if looking for a hunter that wasn’t there. “And what thoughts are those then?” he said finally.

Astinos looked up momentarily, his deep eyes filled with doubt and then as if sensing the shame of such an involuntarily betrayal, cast them down again. Stelios sighed and then, reaching out his hand, placed his thumb under Astinos’s chin and lifted his face. Astinos held his gaze as Stelios’s hand grazed his cheek. “Don’t worry erômenos. Everything will be alright I promise. I’ll be there next to you, as will your other brothers. Now come back to bed. We’ll need our strength tomorrow.” Astinos smiled, and stood to face Stelios, who ruffled his hair, eliciting a groan from the younger man and a low raspy chuckle.

fic: 300

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