Telemachus

The young prince of Ithaca, ready to be put into untenable situations by his mother's suitors after his father's disappearance...

"Well, well, well," I say, smirking as I approach the unawares Prince of Ithaca. He's standing in a hallway, chatting with a maid - she flees, wide-eyed, when I approach, leaving him cornered in the now-empty corridor. "If it isn't the little wolf. Has your bitch mother decided which of us gets to breed her, yet?"

Telemachus whirls around, eyes widening with alarm when the maid he'd been talking to takes off down the hall, leaving him alone with the towering suitor. He steps back - but there's nowhere to go, even as the man's words make his gut roil with anger and disgust.

"Don't talk about her like that!" he snarls, trying not to show his fear. "Just - leave me alone!"

He can't help the strangled yelp when the suitor grabs him by the shoulders and shoves him up against the wall with a toothy, animalistic grin.

I sneer down at the slender prince. "Well, well," I tease him, amused by his obvious alarm. "Looks like the little wolf has decided to yap..."

I push my leg between his thighs, pulling him off balance and up the wall until he's balanced on his toes. "But I don't need to remind you what will happen if you yelp too loud, do I, pup?"

Telemachus grits his teeth, his face flushing with a mix of fury and shame as he's forced to balance precariously on his toes. He hates how easily the larger man manhandles him, hates the mocking nickname, but most of all, he hates the unspoken threat hanging in the air.

"Get off me," he hisses, voice low and strained as he tries to shove against the suitor's chest, but it's like pushing against a marble statue. "My mother will—"

He cuts himself off, knowing the threat is empty. They both know it.