A/N: Disclaimer, Assassins Creed Odyssey and her characters do not belong to me. Unfortunately.

This is set after the Main Story line and what happens in my version of the re-telling. Just a few clarifications, Kassandra and Alkibiades are the bestest of friends, Brasidas survives the battle of Amphipolis, and Deimos is Deimos.

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Deimos

Her Odyssey, one filled with bloody swords and deceiving smiles as she narrowly danced through the wreckage with ease, left her with doleful features, even as she strolled through the clearing. Deimos admired her somewhat, an orphan such as he, thrust into a life she did not ask for, yet every sunrise, she rose and did her duty as the celebrated misthios. Even now, donned in a deep red peplos that allowed her numerous scars to breath, she may have seemed content, but he knew better. He knew she carried a burden for those she had lost the past few years, his sister felt deeply, it seemed. He had never met anyone as caring as her, always making sure he had everything, or their mother. She was always fretting after her friends, especially that old gruff man named Barnabas.

Her hair was not in its usual braid but twisted back into a bun, numerous strands escaping its hold as she bent over to pick up the basket of apricots. It was a strange sensation to watch the warrior who defeated him on more than one occasion, do simple household chores. She continually picked the sweet fruits from their stems, gently placing them into the basket to prevent bruising. He noticed that she seemed to hum under her breath when emerged in a pointless task.

He shifted uncomfortably, unsure if he should help. Yet with a knowing glance, Kassandra gently placed the basket in his hand, a smile on her lips. He shifted the basket into a comfortable position, so the woven wood did not stick into his arms. The apricots seemed ripe, but nonetheless mouth watering. Kassandra joined him, numerous vegetables in hand, her peplos trailing behind her. "Come Deimos, mater will be expecting us for dinner soon." Kassandra mused, heaving the basket to her side. "Oh! I almost forgot Barnabas will be in town in a fortnight."

Deimos followed her, his golden armor nearly blinding in the sun's rays. "The one with too many words for his mouth."

Kassandra laughed, her teeth stretching into a smile as she strolled away from the market. He'd admit it was strange doing such menial tasks such as shopping, for when he was in the Cult he never had to do such things. Servants always had dinner made or portions ready to go when he had to leave the base, but now he was standing in the middle of a market, apricots in hand as he followed his sister around. Deimos could tell she enjoyed the sight and smells of the market, a rarity popping up every once in a while, Kassandra always seemed drawn to colorful items, to bright silks to dark leathers. A hobby for her to dress aesthetically pleasing but with a theme that seemed useful in a fight. He didn't understand why she had collected so many armor sets, for his golden armor had served him just fine for years.

Kassandra turned towards him. "What you like to get anything?"

He shrugged, he never had the luxury to buy what he wanted. "I do not know."

Kassandra sighed but understood his dilemma which he was silently thankful for. In the Cult, he was a weapon to be used, not a person who had time to decide what hobbies he'd enjoy or not. Having a family that cared for his needs was a new development that would take time. "Well, I'm going to look around. I'll meet you by the agora soon, here." She handed him a coin purse filled with jingling coins. "Please look around and find something."

She bid him goodbye and disappeared within the bustling crowd. Deimos sighed and hid the coin purse within his basket. He strolled around bored until he heard clambering and laughing to his side.

Several Spartan children stood in a line, wooden spears in hand. They came in an assorted collection, from well dressed in wool, to dirty rags that barely clung to their bodies. Brasidas stood among them, face alight with humor as he laughed at one of the boys who had tripped. He was dressed in noble clothes, with the exception of his arms and legs encased with armor. Even from his spot, Deimos could tell the prominent limp he himself had caused. The battle of Amphipolis was heated, and he could remember aiming his spear towards the man's head before Kassandra jumped in the way, causing the spear to slice clean through his leg instead.

It was the only time he had seen terror flash through Kassandras eyes as she barely saved the life of the soldier before he was betrayed by his own order. Shot in the back by the coward Kleon. Deimos guessed he was in charge of training soldiers, for Brasidas would never be allowed on a battlefield with his permanent limp. Deimos walked into the clearing, staying put in the shadows of an oak tree, arms crossed in thought. "They need to widen their stance, otherwise anyone could topple them over and stab them." Deimos mused.

Brasidas scowled but kept his distance, he could tell the soldier did not appreciate his presence, which he certainly did not blame him for, he was the one responsible for keeping him off the battlefield for the rest of his life. The man looked ready to thrust the wooden spear at him but held off as Kassandra hurriedly made her way over, vegetables in hand. She placed a hand on Deimos to placate him, her face bound in worry. "Brasidas. I apologize, we will leave-"

Brasidas loosened the spear in his grip, resting it at his side. "No. It's fine, I was just startled." He lied.

Deimos watched with interest. The man had nearly been ready to murder him in front of the children, but Kassandra seemed to placate him with her presence, he wondered why that was. Everyone seemed to find him threatening, his presence causing fear in the smallest of children. Kassandra smiled, shifting the vegetables on her hip and the enclosed basket in the other. "I'm glad to see you've recovered." She said.

Deimos drowned out his reply, his interest solely on his sister. She seemed happy to see the soldier, her smile bright, a noticeable blush overtaking her features. Deimos was fascinated, not even Alkibiades created such a reaction with his persistent flirting. Deimos was ready to take the man's head clean off his soldiers for his lude comments, ones that had to do with him. Kassandra had to isolate the Athenian for the rest of his trip, to prevent him from randomly stabbing the blond man.

He noticed the smallest of gestures, Kassandra gently bumping into him as he teased her, Brasidas moving her hair from her face. Deimos wondered if that was what it was like to show affection, for he received none growing up. Instead of hugs, he received burning remarks and stinging lashes to his back. He snapped his head upwards when he felt tugging on his arm. Kassandra drew him away from the training grounds, towards the dirt path to their home. She seemed quiet, yet content as he followed her into a small clearing.

"Wait, before we head back I got you a gift." This surprised him as Kassandra placed the enclosed basket in front of him. He had received things, but they were tools, never anything thought out. "I have seen one or two mercenaries with their own, but it reminded me of you. Perhaps it can help you learn how to connect with more people."

Deimos opened the basket and noticed a small ball of fur. The animal shifted, nervous. Deimos reach in and gently moved his finger through its fur, afraid he would hurt it. "I thought you would appreciate a companion that would be there for you unconditionally, as Ikaros has for me. You will have to train it, but it will be something to consume your time." Kassandra rattled off nervously, her hands fidgeting. "If you don't like it, I-"

"No." Deimos barked. "I mean thank you. I've… never received a gift so thought out before." He mused, messing with the sleepy kit.

He closed the basket gently to not disturb the proud creature. He placed it on his hip and fell into step with his sister. "What will you name her?" Kassandra asked.

"Selene I suppose."

Deimos grabbed the basket and clasped the door shut with the leather bindings to prevent the kit from tumbling out as he walked. They made it back to their family homestead, their mother fussing over the food. She began to clean off the load of fruits and vegetables as Kassandra joined him towards the back of the yard.

It was the picture of domesticity, His father and Stentor sparring, Kassandra playing with the kit beside him as Myrrine prepared dinner. He never quite imagined how this outcome would end, at the battle of Pylos. He always imagined taking revenge against those who wronged him, disposed of him. Yet meeting Kassandra had changed his perspective of things, how he was being manipulated and used. Deimos had come to terms that those around him, here in this moment, would always have his back despite the angry confrontations and heated exchanges, but no matter how many times he fought with his family, he would never end up with an arrow in his back.

This is why he'll always be thankful for his sister, even if he could never put it into words.