Mykonos will have two chapters because I said so. Mostly, I don't want to write monster chapters (13/15K words) because it can be jarring to go through all that content. Ain't nobody got time for that, right? Right.
Vocab:
Smīkrós means tiny
Morì might (I'm not too sure) mean something along the lines of idiot.
Sadly, we can't all learn Ancient Greek by reading pillars, right Lara?
Eye of the Beholder
by Hazel Liebovsky
Chapitre Sept
"Look," Kassandra sighed. "All I am saying is, they either destroyed everything we had built, or claimed it as their own," her right hand made a wide gesture. "Because they had no shame," she growled the last part. "Malákes. All of them."
Lara was not too convinced. Kassandra's bias was evident to her. "The Greek world was already in shambles, though," she pointed out.
They had been talking about battle techniques to pass the time on their way to Athens – which Lara was dying to visit. With just enough drachmae to get food and some new gear, they still had no horses and were traveling on foot. It was time-consuming, but nice. They could see more of the land, stop by a city or a historical place Kassandra would tell Lara about. She even saw Agamemnon's tomb, though the other woman categorically refused to follow her in and decided to set up their camp outside. Lara resurfaced two days later, half cobwebs, half dust, looking absolutely delighted, with the biggest grin on her face.
They usually discussed customs, religion and myths on their treks, things the archeologist had studied and wanted to know more about. That was how today's conversation had drifted to foreign invasions which incidentally led to, Lara discovered, what was a very, very sore subject for Kassandra, even more so than Xerxes' incursion: The Roman empire.
"The Greek world," she repeated. "Didn't need a religious disruption like this. They stole our Gods, changed their names when it didn't please them and forced the population to abide to it. Centuries of knowledge erased or altered," the mercenary mask she had been wearing lately was doing a very good job at hiding her face. It even turned her words into a threatening rumble.
"You don't know how much they stole from us," she sighed again, kicking a rock with her boot. "They rewrote everything. I've heard lecturers spew their propaganda and marvel at what we had achieved," her scoff was muffled. "They would have claimed Sokrates and philosophy as their own, if they could."
That was enough to make Lara's train of thought come to a screeching halt to ask, "You went to university?"
She saw Kassandra's shoulders tense and square a little, as if she hadn't meant to reveal that part. Not seeing her face was unnerving, she couldn't gauge her reaction, aside from body language. "I get bored every century or so," she sounded sheepish, or maybe defensive. Hard to tell. "Bored enough to go back to school and instantly regret it once I'm there," she shrugged. "So many things are twisted, so many lies… and people, students, they drink it all because there is no one left to rectify it."
"Except you," Lara nodded, squinting at the sun beating on them. They would reach the forest in a couple of hours, before nightfall. God, she missed sunglasses.
Kassandra made a noise, distorted through her mask. "No. I just sit there, fuming."
"Must be frustrating," she mused out loud; to know everything was a lie, and yet not speak out.
"Very."
"I don't recall Professor Moss being like this when I was taking his class," she said. He was a brilliant man, is… Lara rectified in her head, is a brilliant man. His lectures were always engaging, despite her interests lying elsewhere at the time. Himiko and her kingdom had been monopolizing her attention. He always gave her good grades, too.
"We only spent a few weeks together, but I've never heard him present anything as cold hard facts either," Kassandra slowed down, noticing the patrol walking towards them, further away. Athenians, from their banner. "I liked that about him."
Lara turned around to face her, ponytail shifting with the motion. She was walking backward, a smile on her face. "Not because he was doing extensive research on your legendary accomplishments?" Kassandra brushed it off with a dismissive gesture. "Come on, admit it."
There was a long bout of silence, only disturbed by their walking. "Okay. Maybe a little," she drew her index and thumb close together.
Lara's smile grew. Over time, she had learned just how smug Kassandra could be. Stroke her ego and she would puff up her chest.
"You!" one of the Athenian soldiers called behind her. "Come closer," it was a polemarch.
Lara turned around, her brow creasing in suspicion. She threw a quick look at Kassandra who was still standing behind her. The archeologist came to a halt at a safe distance, hand close to her axe but not threateningly so. "What is it?"
"Are you a misthios?" the same man asked, eyes shifting between the women.
Officially no. They had taken on a few contracts over the weeks (closing in on four months now, since they had left Turkey), but nothing that involved assassination or taking part in the Peloponnesian War. Kassandra hadn't been especially happy about that, but they hadn't argued. The possible consequences of their meddling in the battle between Athens and Sparta were unknown, Lara did not want to risk it.
"Depends on who is asking," she said.
He tsked, visibly annoyed by her reply. "Are you a misthios, yes or no? We need swords."
Kassandra came closer, nudging her back discreetly. "What for?" Lara asked.
Their silent communication system had become very efficient over the past few months. A nudge, a look, clearing of the throat, shifting feet. They all meant something.
The soldier looked at his peers, then back at her. "Retaking one of the Silver Islands," he adjusted his armor and stood tall. "Perikles wants Mykonos back."
She felt Kassandra shift behind her. Tense. She sniffed, tilting her head to the side as if stifling black a sneeze.
Accept. Say yes.
Lara frowned; they had a deal. No meddling. They would steer away from battlefields until they gathered information about Alexios' whereabouts. Kassandra wanted to get to him before the battle of Amphipolis, at the very least, which let them some time.
Lara had to make peace with the fact that she would be staying literal years in here. It hadn't been easy the first weeks. She had been sullen, withdrawn, more than usual, but it's not like they could do anything about it. There was no approaching Deimos while the Templars (Cult, she corrected in her head, the Cult) had their clutches on him; and for that they needed the Eagle Bearer to weaken their political and financial influence. The only thing they could do was to facilitate her quest, lead her on the right path while remaining undetected. They had spent the last few weeks doing just that; hopping from island to island, looking for clues about the cultists' identities that they could conveniently drop on the Eagle Bearer's way.
It was a good plan, but a slow one. Never mind the fact that Kassandra herself tended to be all over the place. A battle here, a war there, a village to defend in Boeotia. The Eagle Bearer was currently fighting in the arena of Pephka; some sailors traveling back had reported. Grand and bloody spectacle that was well worth the drachmae, they'd said.
"Why does he want it?" Lara deliberately ignored the woman's instructions.
"Because it was ours," the polemarch's voice rose. "And we want it back. Sparta has been laying siege on it for far too long."
Kassandra sniffed again behind her. Twice.
Refuse.
That was confusing. Hadn't she wanted the opposite just a second ago?
"Is your slave sick?" another soldier asked, shifting to take a step back. "There's blood fever coming from the west."
Lara shook her head. "She is fine. We traveled from the east," they didn't seem convinced, she saw them hold on their spears a little tighter. "I'm sorry, but I must decline your offer, Polemarch."
He shrugged. "Suit yourself, foreigner. Avoiding combat won't make you rich, but it will keep you alive. Trading glory for safety is no way to live for a misthios, though."
She bowed her head as she'd been taught. "I will keep that in mind. May Ares grant you his strength," and stepped aside when they started walking again.
"Change of plans," Kassandra switched back to English when the patrol was far enough. "We're going to Mykonos."
The archeologist turned to her. "What?" they were at least half a day away from the nearest port. "No. We're not."
Kassandra lifted her helmet a little, allowing the breeze to cool her face. "You heard him. Athens wants it and Sparta has been sieging," she wiped the sweat with a cloth and drank from her waterskin.
"Yes," Lara said. "And this is exactly why we can't go. No direct involvement in the war, Kassandra, we agreed."
"I know," she sounded frustrated. "Look, it's not what you think," putting the mask back on. "I have a friend there. The Archon, I… she will need help. I can't just let her fight them on her own," the other woman was going to speak again, defend her point but Kassandra beat her to it. "Mykonos pledged to Sparta after they helped the rebels overthrow their former Archon. They shouldn't be fighting against them. It doesn't make sense."
Lara blinked. That was a lot of information to take in. "What do you think happened?"
Kassandra's shoulders rose in a shrug. "I'm not too sure. I wasn't aware of this," she paused. "Before, I mean."
Could it be a consequence of their presence in Greece? Lara had been musing over this for months, mapping historical events in her head, things they had agreed not to take part in, to preserve the course of time. So far, so good, or so she had thought.
If they went, they would be up against the most powerful factions of the world. Spartans were a force to be reckoned with, a land of warriors. And even though Athens was (theoretically) on its way to lose the war, its army was still powerful and couldn't be ignored either.
A friend, she'd said. Doing it for a friend. It was not a subject they had broached, and Lara felt stupid for not doing it earlier. Of course, Kassandra would have friends here, people she would like to see again, certainly. They both knew about the consequences, if the other woman was ready to risk it… she could understand.
Lara would risk it too, for Sam. Or Jonah.
Kassandra mistook her silence. "You don't have to go, if you think it's too dangerous. But I will. I have to find out what happened." she pointed at the hill. "Walk east, there's a village at about three hours. Stay there until I come back."
Like hell, she was.
Kassandra was already veering around, jogging in the opposite direction. "Wait!" Lara called. "I'm coming."
She wasn't going to let her fight on her own.
They returned to the port in half the time it had taken them to leave it, Kassandra cut through the cliffs, scaling them for the first time since they landed in Greece. Lara managed to keep up with her frantic pace just fine, reaching the top with a high jump mid-air even she didn't dare try. It seemed shorter people took a lot more risks when it came to climbing surfaces. Or maybe that was just Lara.
It took them a few minutes to find a merchant ship on its way to Delos – apparently, Mykonos was off-limits till Spartans or Athenians razed it. They haggled over the price until the captain was blue in the face. Lara promised extra help on deck for half the drachmae he wanted; Kassandra was speechless under her mask. She really had acclimated; save for the accent when she spoke, it didn't sound like she had been here for less than six months. They had to share their space with a screaming baby and a young poet who hadn't earned his sea legs, if the incessant gagging and retching were any indication. They only found solace in the fact that he didn't vomit on them.
Kassandra's head was already in Mykonos. It was true, she hadn't been aware of the island's situation before. She just hoped it wasn't too late to find Kyra. The sinking feeling in her stomach all but intensified when they reached Delos, a couple of weeks later. Spartan ships surrounded the whole island. They were all connected through small bridges that allowed the soldiers to move from ship to ship quickly. Delos' port was swarming with Athenians. Their army had set up camp on the beach, away from the tumult of the city, to avoid unnecessary bloodshed on the sacred land.
She climbed on the highest building to get a better view of the island; brow creased and eyes narrowed in a squint.
"Anything?" Lara asked, grunting slightly as she followed after her. Kassandra leaned forward, offering a hand to pull her up the rest of the way. "Thanks."
She sighed, shaking her head. "I can't see a way in from here. They have the island on complete lockdown," a boat would be suicide.
Lara stared ahead. All the ships were lit, she could see figures draped in red and gold, moving on decks like ants. "How well do you know the island? Are there any secret passages?"
Kassandra blinked, wetting her lips. The caves. One of them did go underwater. Southern of here. It would lead them right into the heart of the city underground, where one of the rebel camps had been.
"Yes," she nodded. "Maybe," Kyra could have ordered the cave to be collapsed to prevent Spartans from sneaking in on them. Thaletas had known about it, but he was dead. Could he have talked to one of his men before?
Her mind was racing. Lara felt her agitation and squeezed her shoulder. "Hey," they looked at each other. "We will find her."
Kassandra took a deep breath before nodding slowly. "Yes. Okay," another deep breath, feeling her muscles relax. "Okay," and cleared her throat. When she spoke again, she sounded less anxious. "There's an entrance, below the surface, south of the island. We will have to swim around the ships until we reach it. Then swim under them, undetected."
Lara hummed in agreement. "How deep is it?"
"Deep enough to be challenging," she replied. There were many times Kassandra had almost fallen short of drowning because she had overestimated her stamina.
The other woman gave her a grin. "I've dived headfirst in Siberian lakes during winter. Trust me, nothing tops that."
"Underwater ruins?"
Lara made a noise and shook her head. "Chopper trying to kill me."
Kassandra blinked, mouth hanging open at the casual admission. Surviving frozen waters and a chopper? This woman was made of steel. "You will have to tell me more about that," her stories made for good tales to swap around a fire. It was almost funny how all her expeditions seemed to go sideways at some point.
It was the archeologist's wink that made her burst out laughing and ebb the ever-growing tension from her body. They jumped off the building to make their way to the beach, away from the Athenian military camp. Kassandra had to leave her mercenary mask behind as well as a few supplies that were too heavy to be carried while swimming – gun included. They buried them in the sand, near a bush to find later.
With the night, temperatures had dropped, making the water a lot colder. Kassandra tied Lara's rope around her middle, giving the other end to the archeologist. "It's too dark and we can't use your lamp. We will have to do it the old-fashioned way," she received a nod, as she tested the cord's elasticity. "I will take the lead. If you run out of air, tug on the rope and I will drag you."
How she wished she had Poseidon's trident now. They had sailed past the statue on their way from Melitus, Kassandra had been tempted to reach the small island to take it with her; she missed having long-range weapons. She had talked herself out of it at the last minute, remembering the lions that roamed around the statue.
"Hopefully, it won't come to that," Lara was already waist-deep in the water, shivering slightly.
Two deep breaths and a nod later, they plunged. They rounded the island, swimming at a safe distance from the ships until they got close to the underwater cave. Kassandra turned around, checking on Lara before pointing to the left. They dived further, swimming fast, but even so, her lungs were starting to burn, screaming for air while her limbs kept kicking forward.
A bit more, just a bit more.
A pointy rock at the entrance tore through her chiton, slicing between the space of her belt. She winced at the sharp sting on her upper thigh. It was deep enough to draw blood, she realized, praying the Gods it would not attract sharks. They were almost weaponless and in near-complete darkness. Easy preys for hungry animals.
When her body felt like it could not take it anymore, Kassandra saw a moving flash of light, the dimly lit surface of the cave. She kicked faster, spasming with the motions and lack of air in her lungs.
She feasted on that first breath when her head finally broke through the surface; hearing Lara take a few lungfuls behind her. "Not dead?" she rasped, swimming towards the edge.
"I don't think so," the archeologist responded, words cut short by her frantic panting. "You were right," she went on, with barely enough force to drag herself up and flop on her back on the ground. "This was a challenge." Kassandra's head was next to hers. She didn't have any strength left to speak and only nodded and shook her head in agreement when Lara said, "I don't think they saw us."
It took them some time to regain their breathing and get to their feet. The caves of Mykonos were a nebulous maze, Kassandra recalled. They lost their way a couple of times before reaching the main path towards the heart of the cave, under the city.
Few torches paved their way until they found themselves facing a guard's bulky back. Lara instantly crouched, unsheathing her axe. Kassandra lifted one arm with her fist closed, gesturing for her to stay put.
No colored clothing. One of Kyra's men. She shook her head at Lara's quizzical look, mouthing 'safe' before clearing her throat loudly.
The man veered around, heavy mass in both hands. "Who is here?" he demanded, squinting at the dark path in front of him.
Kassandra stepped into the light. "The Eagle Bearer."
-0-
Admittedly, her plan hadn't gone further than 'reach Mykonos undetected'. Given the circumstances of their parting, Kassandra had the feeling Kyra was light years away from welcoming her with open arms. She knew the reunion was going to be unpleasant, at best. Had even dreaded to think about it.
It went worse than she thought.
Kassandra had expected a few threats, maybe some screaming, and insults thrown in. Being smacked in the face twice and punched in the guts was not part of the list. Thankfully, it was only fists and not a knife to the head. She wasn't certain Kyra would miss, this time.
"You dare show your face after all you've done?!" the woman's voice rose in a mix of disbelief and anger.
Kassandra was still doubled over from that last blow, but Lara was fine and so, Lara reacted, shoving Kyra and aiming at her head with an arrow she had nocked in a blink. The clinking of metal and rubbing of leather when the men surrounding them drew their weapons were almost deafening.
"Hey—hey!" she recovered quickly and stepped in front of the archeologist to protect Kyra, raising her hands in the air. "Lara, stop."
"She just hit you," she growled in English.
Actually… she let herself be hit. Nuance.
"I deserved it," Kassandra replied, squeezing Lara's taut arm. "I deserved it, okay?" she repeated softly. "Now, lower your bow. Please."
"Who is she?" Kyra asked, behind her. Arms crossed in a nonchalant pose, not even bothered by the fact that she had come very close to dying.
She didn't know how lethal Lara could be. Kassandra had seen her shoot a deer in the eye at two hundred and a half meters away like it was nothing.
"None of your business!" she spat, standing on her toes to glare past Kassandra's broad shoulder.
Kyra was not impressed, and neither were the men surrounding them. Laughter rose among them as they mocked her openly. Kassandra heard smīkrós and morì being thrown around, something about Lara fitting right in their pouch. Despite their obvious disbelief, they still held their swords and heavy masses high and in a tight grip, ready to strike. "You are on my island, stranger."
And this was how the archeologist glare shifted from her to Kassandra. "A friend, you said?" she switched to English again, words laced with sarcasm.
The other woman sighed deeply, averting her scalding gaze to look at the ground, then back at her, with a sheepish shrug. "It's… complicated," the admission was met with a scoff.
"If you have something to say, speak Greek, or don't speak at all, foreigner. I don't appreciate gossiping."
The comment ticked Kassandra more than it did Lara who only rolled her eyes while the other woman turned around in a sharp move to glare at Kyra. "Can you stop provoking her? This isn't helping."
She blinked, mouth agape in surprise before her face scrunched into a scowl. "Provoking?" her laugh was shrill. "She's the one aiming an arrow at me, misthios."
"Because you hit me," she snapped back and heaved another sigh. "Let's all calm down," she said, louder. "Okay?" turning around to give Lara a pointed look before repeating, "Okay?"
After a long stare down between them, the young woman tsked and looked away, putting the arrow back in her quiver. She kept her hand on the grip of the climbing axe, though. Just in case.
Kyra uncrossed her arms and gestured at the men to lower their weapons.
"Thank you," Kassandra said.
"Why are you here?" she still sounded angry and her scowl hadn't settled.
Kassandra looked around, meeting suspicious looks and distrustful glares. This wasn't going to be easy. "Can we talk in private?"
Kyra's eyes narrowed, she said nothing for a long while. There was a silent exchange between her and a bulky, bald man. Praxos, she remembered. Fiercely loyal, to a fault maybe. The other woman nodded, eventually, before pointing at Lara with her chin.
"What about the foreigner?"
"She stays here," Kassandra replied, as much for the archeologist as the archon. "I trust your men won't try anything stupid?"
"I trust she won't try anything stupid?" Kyra shot back.
Lara was visibly aggravated and showed it, tsking again while crossing her arms. "Can you stop talking like I'm not right here," she hissed at Kassandra before switching to Greek. "I will keep my weapons sheathed as long as they do the same."
The other woman nodded and refocused on Kassandra. "Follow me."
Silence hung heavily around them as they walked. They left the cave, Praxos a few meters behind, close but not overbearingly so. The wind was blowing on their way to Pordarkes' former house, bringing loud chatters and shouts from the Spartan ships surrounding the island. Shanties, insults and war cries.
An intimidation technique, Kassandra realized. Nikolaos had told her stories about that, about how Sparta conducted their sieges. How they would relay each other, singing about battles, blood, and Leonidas' wrath. How they would surround their enemies, creep in their mind with their words, until the only thing they could think about was the threat outside of their walls, looming. It was all about wearing them down before the battle. And it had worked every time.
The ships were even more imposing up close. The city was depleted of its usual bubbling activity, there was no music, no one ambling around, the tables outside of the tavern were desperately empty and forlorn. The roads were clear, air tinted with danger and heavy with smoke.
Praxos did not enter the house with them, Kyra led her to what looked like an office. Wooden planks covered the windows, and torches were on the wall, casting a dim orange hue in the room. There was a large table in the middle, with a map on it. She turned around to face Kassandra, leaning on the table. Her arms crossed again.
"Speak."
"What happened?" she stayed by the wall. It would be a very bad idea to approach the other woman now.
"What do you think happened?" she spat, though it held no bite. She sounded more weary than upset, now.
They would not be getting anywhere if she kept snapping at her without answering questions. Kassandra opted for a more direct approach. "Why didn't you tell me anything? You could have sent a note."
Kyra let out a dry laugh, shaking her head in disbelief, like this was the most ridiculous thing she had heard all day. "To tell you what, misthios?" she pushed herself off the table, standing tall. "That your actions have consequences? That, maybe, killing a Spartan general would enrage their kingdom? You couldn't figure it out yourself, Kassandra of Sparta ?"
Each word felt like a slap in the face. The sinking feeling she'd had ever since the Athenian polemarch had stopped them weeks ago intensified ten folds. And Kyra's words all but confirmed the feeling that she was responsible for this. It was her spear that had stabbed Thaletas. Her hands; no one else's.
And yet, Kyra had kept everything to herself, leaving her to go on her odyssey undisturbed, as she carefully avoided the island. Even her crew hadn't said anything when she had sent the Adrestia to Mykonos while she gave Alexios a proper burial. Barnabas hadn't talked at all. Was it because the rebels had already capitulated? Had Kyra been executed already?
He probably thought he was protecting her by saying nothing.
Kassandra swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing it down. "I would have helped."
"Like you helped Thaletas?" she scoffed. "We will manage without you. Take that new toy of yours and leave my island, misthios."
Her eyes narrowed, she took a step forward. "Don't talk about her like that," she was not going to let her drag Lara into their business. This was between them.
Kyra laughed bitterly, lifting her arm in a dismissive gesture before sneering. "Why? Isn't she warming your furs?"
She could have punched her again and it would have felt exactly the same.
Kassandra let a beat, closing her eyes. Kyra always knew what to say to sting someone, her words hitting their mark like poisoned arrows. She wasn't going to fall into this trap, she knew all Kyra wanted was to get a rise of her, get her too upset to think so that she would storm out and never come back. This wasn't going to work.
She opened her eyes, mirroring Kyra's scowl but keeping her voice even when she spoke. "This..." she gestured at the space between them. "Is not about her and you know it. Stop being a child. We are here to help you."
"I don't need your help."
"You're willing to let your people be slaughtered because of your pride?" Kassandra asked genuinely.
It wasn't what she wanted to say, but it was too late to take the words back.
"Don't you dare talk to me about pride!" Kyra exploded, closing the distance between them in two big steps, jabbing her fingers on her breastplate at each word, like a stab. "When you're the one who killed because of it!"
It was Thaletas' own pride that had killed him. Kassandra had tried to talk but he wouldn't listen, just like Kyra hadn't listened when she told her the truth.
"Is that what you tell yourself so you can feel better?" Kassandra asked somberly. She'd had enough of her games. "So that you don't take responsibility?" Kyra wanted to go there? She was going to go there. "Is that what you tell yourself when you don't feel guilty about his death? Is that it?"
Kyra's hand rose again, but she caught it. They glared at each other, Kassandra sneering dangerously. "Not to me, Kyra," she let go of her wrist to step back. "That little game of yours might work with your lapdog. I'm sure he would scream that the sky is green if you told him to. But I'm not Praxos."
Kyra's look was scalding, her hands were balled into fists at her sides, jaw clenched. Her breathing was ragged, coming through flared nostrils. Kassandra did not back down, despite the danger radiating from her. They had let things rot and fester between them like a bad wound for too long.
"Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't feel relieved."
It was the last straw for Kyra. "You are a monster," she hissed lowly. "How dare you…"
Kassandra laughed, not the usual one, loud and boisterous. This one was bitter, shrill and accusatory, as her hands motioned to herself. "How dare I?" she laughed again, looking away, shaking her head and then back at the other. "You? The wife of a Spartan general?" she scoffed. "You think he would have let you rule while he stood in the sidelines? You think he would have been fine with you taking his glory? Leading his land? You think he'd have been proud of you?" she took a step forward, towering over her. "He didn't see you, Kyra and you knew. That's why you let this..." her hand motioned at the space between them again. "Happen. That's why you didn't tell him anything until he found out."
"Not another word, Kassandra," she cut, eyes flashing with violence. "Do not speak another word."
The other woman ignored her warning and went on. "You would rather take your own life than be caged like this." Kyra's face paled, recalling that night by the beach. So close to the edge. "That's why you didn't mourn his death like you did Podarkes."
It would have taken one step. Only one.
If Kassandra hadn't talked her out of it.
"I'm not judging you, Kyra," she said, tilting her head to search her eyes. "I understood then, and I understand now."
Kyra started shaking her head. "It's…"
"In the past," she finished for her, taking that final step, a gentle touch on her cheek. "It's in the past."
She felt the other woman lean in her open palm before Kyra closed her eyes shut and took a sharp step back, as if burnt. Kassandra's hand hung in the air for a second, she let it fall at her side with a sigh. "We need to talk about this, we really do," she spoke softly. "But right now, you need help. Your people need help. Stop fighting me, please," Kassandra wanted to reach out again but forced herself to stay still. "Let's put this behind us while we deal with the situation. Together," she lifted her arm again.
Kyra stared at her open hand, the turmoil was evident in her eyes. She frowned at it for so long, Kassandra had almost given up on making peace. The relieved sigh when the other woman reached for it was as loud as it was unexpected.
"For my people," Kyra said with a strong hold on her forearm.
Kassandra nodded. "For your people."
When they stepped out of the house, Praxos was nowhere to be seen. They found him in the cave, talking to Lara, quietly.
Kassandra's brow creased in a frown. Lara's fleeting glare was a sharp reminder that she needed to speak with her, too. With the current situation, it had slipped her mind.
"… can give you shelter outside if you prefer."
Lara nodded slowly. "Thank you, I…"
"You and Kassandra can stay at the house by the cliff, south of here. If you want," Kyra interrupted, once they were close enough. "It is sheltered by trees. The Spartans can't see you."
The archeologist blinked, surprised by the proposition. The suggestion hadn't been snide or tinted with animosity. It threw her off. "Thank you," she nodded again, visibly puzzled. "I apo—"
Kyra waved her hand, brisk and dismissive. "No need. Not now," she gave Kassandra a long, inquisitive look before shaking her head. "We all need rest, I believe. We will speak tomorrow," she turned her attention to the man. "Give them dry clothes, and anything they might need."
Both women bowed and followed Praxos outside of the cave. They exchanged no words on their way to the small house. Not until the door was closed and Lara made sure the man wasn't within earshot.
Here we go, Kassandra took a deep breath. She already had a horrendous headache because of Kyra and now Lara giving her that look, arms crossed, standing by the door, exactly like she'd been when talking to the archon earlier.
"You said she was your friend."
"I said she was my friend," Kassandra conceded. "Not that I was hers."
She walked towards the center of the room, putting the clothes Praxos had given them on the table, before sitting down to relieve her wounded leg. She'd forgotten about it. The adrenaline had worn off and it was starting to sting again, though it didn't bleed.
There was a cot that looked comfortable, by the opposite window. Large enough for two. They would have to share. Or maybe Lara was going to kick her out and make her sleep outside. Kassandra wouldn't even blame her. She did deserve it, after all.
The other woman didn't buy her sorry-ass excuse. Not one bit. "Lying by omission is still lying," her arms fell at her sides, limply. "I thought we were past this."
She didn't sound upset. Disappointed, more like, which made Kassandra feel even worse. They had learned to trust each other over the months, and she even enjoyed Lara as a travel companion (weird quirks included). It was nice to have someone to talk to who wasn't a bird, someone who could actually answer and hold a conversation. Kassandra knew she had messed up.
"I'm sorry," she raised her hand in apology. "I should have told you. Kyra and I…" she slumped over the seat, rubbing her face tiredly. "We didn't part on the best of terms."
Lara rolled her eyes at her. "I figured, thank you. Why?"
Gods, did she get sassy sometimes. Kassandra smiled despite herself, though she whipped it off quickly when the other woman gave her a pointed stare.
"Kassandra," it came out almost like a growl. "Why?"
Hazel eyes drifted everywhere, trying to find a spot that wasn't the woman currently glaring a hole in her. Her gaze was unwavering, she didn't even blink. Kassandra's eyes settled on the nook and crannies of the plank covering the window near Lara.
"I…" she started, uncharacteristically meek and quiet. "I might have killed her future husband."
Her face remained impassive, only her eyebrow went up. "Might?"
Kassandra clapped her tongue, admitting defeat as she finally dared to hold her gaze. "I killed him."
Lara's eyes glazed a little as she processed the information. The other woman could see the wheels turning in her head. "A contract?" she asked after a pause.
She shook her head. How could she explain the situation without sounding like a complete self-absorbed ass?
I fucked his wife. He found out and pissed me off, so I killed him.
Um. No.
He attacked me on a beach after he found out I fucked his wife. It pissed me off, so I killed him.
Neither.
He didn't listen when I tried to talk to him, and it pissed me off.
Lame.
He prattled about stolen glory and women like they were things to be owned and it pissed me off.
Maybe?
It sounded bad, no matter how Kassandra tried to shift it in her head. There was no way she would come out of it unscathed, no. Lara's esteem for her would plummet and sink like a rock at the bottom of the ocean. The selfish misthios who thought with her crotch and spoke with her fists, that's what she was. Big and dumb. That's what Lara would think, anyway.
She didn't want her to. To her utter horror, Kassandra realized she cared about what Lara thought of her. More than she would like to admit.
Better be honest, anyway. The archeologist had a keen eye for deceit. "Kyra and I hit it off when I first arrived here," she explained, forcing herself to keep looking at Lara as she spoke. "I knew she was with Thaletas, but…"
"You still went for it," the other supplied with an even voice.
"Not exactly." Kassandra shook her head. "I warned her, when it became obvious that she had a thing… for me, I mean. I told her we couldn't go around his back. That she would have to tell him the truth."
That her (broken) heart had been spoken for, even if Daphnae, with her tear-streaked cheeks and anguished eyes, had vowed to kill her should she set foot on Chios ever again. That she wasn't going to settle. That this was lust, easy, casual and uncomplicated. Kyra had readily accepted all her conditions, except one: Thaletas.
She had been burnt by Daphnae's threats, her words etched deep in her soul, her heart aching with grief. Kassandra hadn't been thinking straight at the time, all she wanted was to forget. Not to have this weight, this lump knotting and knotting and hurting in her stomach. If only for a couple of hours, or days if she was lucky. She knew it was no excuse, but it was the truth. She had been vulnerable. Had used Kyra, like Kyra had used Thaletas.
It had backfired for both of them.
"And you still went for it," Lara repeated. No judgment, never. Just plain facts. She was trying to understand.
"Kyra said she would tell Thaletas, eventually," Kassandra explained. "But he needed to focus on winning their rebellion first," she swallowed, managing a weak smile. "You know Spartans. We don't think, we do one thing at a time."
Self-roasting did not have the effect she hoped. Lara just looked at her with a blank expression, waiting.
"He found out," she said, just as the other woman mumbled 'of course' under her breath and shook her head. "He attacked me on the beach. I had to defend myself."
That made Lara frown. She wasn't convinced. "You could have knocked him out."
I didn't want to.
Her silence spoke louder than words.
"I could have."
She was expecting Lara to go on and properly lecture her, maybe tell her to get out and think about what she'd done. But none of that happened, all she did was sigh quietly and look away, pinching the bridge of her nose. A telltale sign, Kassandra had learned. Lara was absolutely exhausted. The day had been long, longer than it should have, for both of them.
Sure enough, Lara spoke. "We need to rest," she approached her. "Let me look at your leg, first."
The woman nodded wordlessly.
Lara did not think much about the odd glint in Kassandra's eyes when they lied in the cot. Not until she reached with her left hand and grabbed the axe by the pillow to move it to the other side, away from the young woman. Kassandra had joked about them sleeping too close to one another and how she wouldn't risk getting stabbed for accidentally kicking Lara in the shin.
A joke.
A joke that hid genuine concern. A joke that turned into 'not-a-joke' as Lara had another one of her night episodes and reached blindly for the space where the axe should have been, before she panicked and, in her hazed state, tried to choke Kassandra, who had the misfortune of breathing a wee bit too close to her shoulder. The one that had been mauled by a jaguar in Peru.
Lara did not remember her nightmare, just that she woke up with their limbs tangled, her own hands trying to wrap around the woman's throat as Kassandra caught her wrists and drew Lara close instead of pushing her away.
There was a buzzing echo in her ears that tuned out everything else. Lara felt the vibrations rumbling through Kassandra's chest when she spoke, holding her in a tight embrace, trapping her hands between their bodies when the archeologist tried to fight her off. Anchoring her.
"…afe," she was whispering. "You are safe. It's only a nightmare. Only a nightmare."
A nightmare that left her shaking like a leaf and feeling so powerless, tears stung her eyes, begging to fall. She swallowed shakily, doing a piss poor job at stifling her sob when her brain caught up with reality and what she'd just done. Or tried to.
What a joke she was. A husk of her former self. A little girl afraid of the dark who would lash out every time her mind was too drained and weak to keep the monsters at bay. It was exhausting. She was just so tired of fighting chimeras.
"Are you awake?" Kassandra asked after a while, feeling Lara's feeble nod in the crook of her neck. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head. What would she say anyway? There was nothing to talk about.
"Okay," silence stretched between them, but Lara couldn't catch her breath, no matter how hard she tried. Her heart kept hammering in her veins, chest rising and falling, erratic and shallow. And the tears, the tears wouldn't fall.
Was she going to get a panic attack, too, on top of it?
Kassandra squeezed, tightening her embrace, almost crushingly so. "Let's do it together, okay? Breathe with me. Can you do that, Lara?"
The woman nodded again, feeling Kassandra's ribcage expand slowly as she inhaled. Lara did the same, holding her breath until the body against hers deflated. Once, twice, three times, again and again.
"Good," she encouraged. "Deep and slow, keep going."
They breathed, inhale for inhale, exhale for exhale until Lara's trembling subdued. "Thank you," she muttered, shaky and rough, when she regained enough control over her body.
Kassandra said nothing, though Lara could hear her think. She opened her mouth a couple of times and closed it. Shifting, she let her arms fall from the young woman. "Turn around," she said. "Give me your back."
The request was puzzling, but Kassandra's hand was already on her shoulder, prompting her to move. Lara stiffened as soon as she felt fingers lift the hem of her cropped chiton. She caught her wrist in a death grip.
"What are you doing?" she swallowed thickly, eyes wide in the dark. The physical closeness that had been comforting only a few moments ago was suddenly smoldering her.
"This will help you," she replied. "Do you trust me?" Lara bit her lip, breathing a little louder. After a long while, she let go of her wrist. Tacit consent, or resignation maybe. Lara didn't know. Probably a mix of both. "I used to do that to my brother when he woke me up," Kassandra whispered, to reassure her.
"I'm not a baby," Lara's retort was weak, but she didn't stiffen when fingers slipped under her chiton and traveled up her spine. Not too much at least.
"You're not a man either, so what's your point?"
Lara only scoffed when Kassandra shushed her. Baby or not, she could feel her heartbeat settle and the tension ebb slowly from her limbs. It had been so long since she'd let anyone touch her, let alone on her back when it wasn't clothed. Her fight with the jaguar in Peru had left horrid scarring; fine white lines, teeth imprints and puckered marks on her shoulder blades where the animal had pawed at her with its claws again and again.
Lara had hidden them from everyone, except Jonah when he had tended to her wounds. It was easy to ignore, most of the time. The bathroom mirrors at the Manor were unforgiving reminders that she faced after each shower. But at least it was just her and herself.
Unlike now.
Lara knew it was dark and there was no way to see, but it didn't make her feel any better. Kassandra would feel them, and it frightened her beyond belief. She felt bare, scared as if standing under a magnifying light.
When Kassandra's fingers ran over the first scar crossing from her spine to her side, she tensed up again.
"Relax," the woman said in a quiet murmur. Tracing Lara's spine up with her nail, then down with the side of her thumb. Up and down, up and down until Lara got used it and mellowed under her touch.
Her hand went from side to side, deliberate and slow. There was no curious probing, no question asked; only silent exploration as the tips of her fingers traveled from one shoulder to the other, sometimes retracing the scars, sometimes just passing over them. Lara forced herself to focus on the touch, the slightly calloused bumps of Kassandra's fingers, where she could feel them on her scarred skin.
She didn't think it was possible to feel vulnerable and safe at the same time. To be at the mercy of someone's touch like this. It was terrifying, her body screaming for her mind to let go and sleep, the caresses lulling her into relinquishing control, to just feel and not think.
Lara gave in.
It didn't take long for her breathing to deepen and slow down, blinking in the dark, eyes opening and closing every time for a little bit longer until she drifted off.
Kassandra's hand stayed there, its weight warm and comforting on her back, long after they both fell asleep.
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I'll just leave this here.
Ubisoft kinda forgot Kyra became the Archon/Leader of Mykonos after Podarkes' death, didn't they? I couldn't find her on the island afterwards. And she was HELL to write. She is HELL. I can't pine her down, she's so freaking hard. Fuck it. I'm sorry if she seems OOC here. Really, I am. I tried. She'll be more proactive next chapter, too.
