Battlefields to Ball-gowns (A Bridgerton Fanfiction)

Chapter 12

"Ouch!" Eloise screeched as Apollo continued to braid her hair out of her face in the Illyrian Valkerie style. It was the day following the art exhibit and Eloise found herself at the Black Chateau.

"Quite whining. You are fine." Apollo scolded, pulling her hair harder. 

"Why couldn't Artemis do this?" Eloise whined. 

"She is far too busy lusting after the broody Lord you call a brother. Besides, she is much harsher than I. When I had long hair she nearly ripped my head off, braiding it."

"You had long hair?"

"In my youth. My father hated it long so I grew it out."

"You dislike the king?" Eloise asked. 

"Doesn't everyone hate their father at some point?" Apollo joked, though not completely.

"No... my family was destroyed when my father died. He was kind, generous, fun... He was a perfect father. Anthony was never the same after his death. None of us were. I would give anything to have my father back." Eloise announced sadly.

"Then you are a lucky one indeed," Apollo said fondly.

"Tell me more about Illyria," Eloise asked, changing the subject. Her dark eyes were bright with curiosity that Apollo found endlessly endearing. 

"Should you gaze at my brother with those pretty puppy dog eyes of yours I do not see how any man could refuse you. What would you like to know?" 

"Did you fight in the war?" Eloise asked. 

Apollo's hands stalled, the bright mischievous glint in his eyes dulling as he thought back to the darkness of his childhood. 

The hatred that perpetually plagued him resurfaced. 

Eloise noticed the shift in Apollo, turning to meet his faraway gaze, "You needn't talk of it. I'm sorry for asking-"

"No. No, it's alright... You shared your trauma, what the fun if you are depressed all by yourself." He said softly taking her face in his hands before turning her to face forward again, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Yes... My bastard of a father sent me and my sister to lead the southern legions... I suppose two ten-year-olds made an adult in his mind. He didn't trust anyone but family so we were forced to fight alongside our elder siblings... We were fifteen when the war was finally won, sixteen when I was made a prince... I never wanted to fight. I hated it, all of it. I nearly died in my first battle because I was too busy throwing up and my hands shook too much to hold a sword. I didn't crave glory or conquest. I was just a boy who wanted to go home."

"But you did. You survived. You went home."

"...A part of me didn't. A part of all of us is still out there on those blood-stained fields... We all got to leave the battlefield but no one truly came home, not the same anyway... Artemis changed as well. You should have seen her when we were younger. War destroyed us and I hated my father for it, I still do."

Apollo finished off the braid by tying it together with leather. 

"There all done! The hair of a true warrior." Apollo said holding up a hand mirror for her to see the intricate braids. 

"How do I look?" Eloise asked, gazing up at Apollo. 

"Beautiful as you did yesterday and perfect as you will tomorrow." He whispered softly. 

The maids supervising in the room, blushed wildly as they watched the intimate scene unfold. Wildly flustered by the handsome, romantic prince. 

"Do you think Ares would think so? I'm not well versed in the whole mating ritual thing." 

That seemed to snap Apollo out of it a bit, "A-ah yes Ares. He would be a blind man to think you any less than a goddess... Now I have left a pair of Artemis' fighting leathers with your maids, I have already asked your mother's permission no worries, so go put them on." Apollo smiled, bright as the sun, dimming only once Eloise left the room. 

Confusion swam around his head at the fading warmth he felt. 

What is happening to me?

After nearly an hour Apollo was growing greatly annoyed. "What the fuck is taking her so long."

Stomping up to her room, Apollo knocked, not awaiting a response before entering.

Eloise jumped, startled by the intruder... the MALE intruder. 

Apollo laughed as the maids struggled to figure out the weapons harness. It was complicated, meant to wrap around one's thighs and up to their shoulders. "Stop laughing! And what are you doing in here?!"

"It's been years! I got impatient... Move." He motioned to the maids as he got down on one knee in front of Eloise. 

Eloise turned bright red as Apollo ran a hand up her thigh, fastening the leather straps correctly on each side, before moving up to the belt. 

"Only you, Eloise Bridgerton could bring a prince to his knees." Apollo teased as he fixed the strap that crossed right above her breasts. His touch light, sending fire through her wherever his callused fingers brushed. 

"There! Now you don't look like a child playing with string." Apollo smirked his eyes alight once more with mischief. 

"You don't have to be so awful about it. It's difficult!"

"... We mustn't keep you dear Ares waiting. Besides the outfit change is completely necessary, how else will you learn to wield a proper sword?" Apollo said, hinting at his plan.

Eloise wordlessly followed, adoring the free movement she had in the Illyrian fighting leathers. Apollo found himself glancing at her more than once as he looked her up and down in the skin tight leathers. 

She was seventeen years old he felt a little creepy as a twenty year old, but she was aslo infactuated with his brother... his elder brother.

He decided it best not to think about his attraction to the future sister in law that was three years younger than him.

Ugh where was Artemis when he needed her. 

Not that her age gap with Lord Bridgerton was much different. He had seen how the two looked at eachother. He wasn't even sure his twin was aware she was in love or not. 

Bringing his mind back to the task at hand, Apollo led Eloise out to the training grounds where Ares stood. 

"Ah Miss Bridgerton, you look lovely. Shall we begin?" Ares asked stoically as he held out his hand for Eloise. 

She smiled brightly, taking his gloved hand and following onto the training field. 

Apollo watched, his smirk faiding as Ares walked away with Eloise. Confusion over the sinking feeling in his chest took over and he turned. Apollo walked away, failing to notice the quick glance Eloise Bridgerton shot him before he went.