In the first documentary you have this adorable little cub spending his days with his mother bear and rolling around in the grass.

Pyrrus: Yes!!!

Peisistratus , whispering: Telemachus , you’re secretly in charge.

also,

pyrrus: (doesn’t honor patroclus)

achilles: (watches the whole thing in the underworld) you fucking kid i-

Richard Corben, cover for The Deathworld Trilogy, by Harry Harrison (Nelson Doubleday, 1974).

"May I speak to you privately, Your Highness?"

A long shot in the dark, but Pyrrus watches as Kiara addresses those around her and stands from her throne. Descending the steps towards him, two of her court follow closely behind her.

"/Alone/", he adds, much to the disgruntled displeasure of the lions around her. "As you can see, the Princess has more weapons than I do. I'm not foolhardy enough to start a fight I can't win."

Her claws were sheathed, but that did not make her any less deadly. Pyrrus watched those same hands flex in response.

"Leave us. Serah Pyrrus is no one to worry over."

The guards lowered their heads, making a graceful exit as Kiara and Pyrrus made their way into an adjoining hall.

How he wished to put his hand on the small of her back and escort her out. That innocent enough touch seemed like a brand more than ever.

Once out of eyesight and earshot, Pyrrus can stand it no longer and he cages her against the wall. His arms on either side of her body hold her near him, but he knows she can break away if she wants.

His hands reaches to caress her cheek, his eyes holding hers as he pleads with her. "I hold your gaze in that throne room and I see nothing. Your stare is blank and I can not find the girl I once knew. Where is she?! What have you done with her?!"

But Kiara slaps his hand away, her lip curling in a snarl as she hisses at him, "Don't touch me! That is no longer your privilege!"

"Then touch /me/! I beg of you!", No longer HOKDING onto the wall, he grabs her wrists and puts both of her hands on the exposed skin of his neck. "/Touch/ me. I'm a starving man, Kiara. I am nothing without your touch."

There. Just for a second. Tears well in her eyes and Pyrrus can see clearly the woman, the girl he once knew. Her fingers curled just enough, as if to knead his skin, and he closes his eyes...

But then she is gone. And when he opens his eyes, those tears are gone. Replaced by the hardened stare of a princess, perhaps even a queen.

And there is no space in them for him.

"Do not request a private audience with me again, Serah Pyrrus, for I will deny it."

Neoptolemus: Ewwwwww! Disgusting!