Author's Notes: I wrote this a while ago and posted it to the livejournal queen's thief fanfiction comm, but now that I've got an account here I'm reposting it. Most of my stories will fall into this category, unless I start writing for another fandom, too. Thanks to everyone who reviewed this when I first posted it, and of course to my beta tearoha.
The rain had started sometime in the night. The clouds had drifted down from the mountain, and the noise of the rain disguised the noise of the advancing army. Although the soldier's distinctive crested helmets were blurred by the rain, the two figures watching from the hillside knew who they were. The army was the one that they had sent: the Medes.
"The battle will begin soon." the taller figure said softly. She was a woman dressed entirely in white, and she glowed in the darkness like a ghost. In contrast, the other was dark and indistinguishable from the hill. That was good; he wanted to be.
Eugenides had any number of sarcastic replies to Moira's comment. He could thank her for her prophecy; he could humbly ask if she knew who exactly was to be fighting. But it didn't seem the time, and they were silent for a long while.
Finally a distant alarm was raised, and a man was running from tent to tent to wake the sleeping soldiers. They were unorganized and the battle, both gods knew, would be bloody.
"What if-" Eugenides started, and Moira turned to look at him. His mouth was set in a hard line, and his brow was furrowed, as though he were trying hard to keep his thoughts under control.
"Yes?" Moira prompted. She winced – the first row of attacking Eddisians had died, maybe seven men. Seven threads cut short long before their time.
Quietly, Eugenides said, "What if I am wrong?"
"About?"
"The Queen. There are decisions she needs to make, things she needs to say… things we can no longer predict."
Moira stared. Eugenides had shown every faith in Attolia up until now. "You doubt that she will have the strength?" Moira asked.
Eugenides narrowed his eyes at the tent he knew had held the Queen, although she now stood outside to watch the fighting, "Not at all. I worry that she will have too much strength."
Below, the Eddisian soldiers charged against the Mede.
"I see." Moira replied. And she did; if Attolia believed that she could resist the Mede alone, the gods' plan was ruined. "But you are worried about more than that."
"I am." Eugenides sighed.
Moira looked up at him, ignoring the list of deaths she would need to record; twelve men, fifteen men, twenty men, Eddisian and Mede alike. On the field, a light was fired into the sky. "What do you think will happen? This is a risk, but it is the only way to get this plan anywhere."
"I know. But I cannot help but worry. I have been watching Gen his whole life, the Queen as well, but I still worry that I might be wrong. I have probably got it coming to me." Eugenides saw Moira smile. "Do you want me to be honest? All right. I am worried that I thought this whole time that Attolia was someone she is not, and that she will rip him to shreds and all our work will be for nothing. And… Gen will be dead."
There was silence. After a few seconds there was a call from the valley, and Moira and Eugenides knew the battle was over. The Thief would surrender, and Attolia would be in control once more.
"Do you trust him?" Moira asked.
"Gen? Of course I do!"
"He loves Attolia, like you though he would. You both saw something in her, and you cannot both be wrong."
"I hope you are right, Moira." Eugenides said quietly. The two friends watched, and waited. Their plans, and the man at the center of them, were in the hands of the Queen now.