Well uh, can't say I expected people to react to my last note. Thank you guys for the comments, I apologize I haven't gotten to answering any yet but it warmed my heart. This past month has been stupidly busy with a lot of things and real life commitments. Here's hoping the forced quarantine actually gives me a goddamn break. In any case, thank you really. And stay safe, wherever you are. Think of the ederly - and think of those in the front lines, in hospitals and food stores, having to deal with idiotic hoarding. Be mindful, please.

vocab:
silphe is the Greek for cockroach, or whatever ancestor from hell the cockroach has. It's a close cousin, if you will.
sambyke is a musical instrument that's like a small portative harp
pteryges is the defensive shoulder straps/leather skirt worn by warriors
sideritis are medicinal plants

I had to play fast and loose with some historical events, my bad.


Eye of the Beholder

by Hazel Liebovsky


Chapitre Dix-Sept

Kassandra had walked back to the Adrestia with a small bounce to her step and butterflies in her stomach. Barnabas and Odessa had both thrown her curious looks that she had pretended not to see. Patience had never been one of her strong points, unless it involved tracking people or animals, and anticipation had made her restless. After roaming around Athens looking to spend some time with Phoibe – who had been too busy running Aspasia's errands to pay her any attention ("She pays so well, Kassandra! She is so nice!") – the woman had opted to go back to the ship.

Myrinne's eyes were twinkling knowingly, a ghost of a smile tugged at her sight of her estranged daughter never ceased to fill her with wonder, after decades apart. Months traveling together, nights spent talking until exhaustion slurred their words, and she still pinched herself sometimes.

"My lamb," she approached Kassandra at the helm, running her fingers above the gauntlet and up her forearm. Myrinne thought she would never get to do this again. "What's on your mind?" the lilt in her voice was light as she observed her daughter staring at the sun, willing it to set with her scalding glare alone.

Kassandra startled a little, turning to her with a gentle smile. "Mater," she squeezed Myrinne's fingers above her forearm. Strong and slender, the fingers of a spear wielder. "No one," Kassandra's face dissolved, realizing too late what she had said out loud.

Traitorous mouth.

Myrinne nodded, letting out a quiet snort when her daughter huffed and looked back towards the Aegean Sea. "Someone special?" she dared after a few minutes of quiet.

Kassandra's shoulders rose with her sigh, she looked up, wetting her lips before shaking her head no. "Someone interesting."

Daphnae was special. Daphnae would always be special.

"She almost killed me," Kassandra continued, offering a smile and a reassuring squeeze when she felt Myrinne stiffening. "But it's okay, we made up…" she frowned. "I think."

"You think?" she recognized the crease in her brow, the shine of worry in her mater's eyes. Those traits that she had passed on to Kassandra. "What did you do?"

The woman hummed, averting Myrinne's disapproving gaze. No matter how old she was, it never ceased to make her feel like a child all over again. Kassandra hunched over herself. "There was a bounty on her head—"

Myrinne's hand rose, stopping her daughter halfway. "You chased this girl?"

"I needed the drachmae, Mater," Kassandra tried when the woman threw a heated glare. "To find yo—"

"Did she deserve it?" her daughter clamped her mouth shut. "Did she deserve it, Kassandra?"

Eyes downcast, the woman shook her head. "Probably not."

Not at all, actually.

Myrinne's sure hand came to her chin, lifting it up so their eyes could meet. There was no judgment in those eyes, only regrets. "I wasn't here for you. For so long, I wasn't here…" she trailed off, blinking the blurriness away. "You grew without me, and we will never get those years back. But, Kassandra," she said. "There is enough darkness in this world. Don't kill innocent people for drachmae. Not anymore."

Kassandra wanted to object, wanted to throw it back at her. Whatever she'd done all those years, the life she had led, the choices she had made. They were all guided by survival. Myrinne had no right to judge her for that.

Not when she hadn't tried to find Kassandra at the bottom of Mount Taygetos. Not when she'd left her alone to fend for herself. Bitterness squeezed at her heart, urging the woman to bite back, be the bullheaded Spartan Myrinne and Nikolaos had raised her to be.

Kassandra watched her mater for a long while. She's trying, a little voice pierced through the rancor, through her lingering anger. She's trying. Give her a chance.

Wordlessly, she nodded.


Lara knew why Kassandra had chosen Thorikos the moment she stepped up the highest hill. She turned around, narrowing her eyes at the tangerine ocean and burning sun. It was the perfect location with a panoramic view of Athens and the Aegean Sea.

The proverbial perfect spot.

The Eagle Bearer was sitting there with her back to Lara and the helmet on the grass, watching as the ocean swallowed the sun. "I wasn't sure you would come."

She sounded a lot less confident, suddenly, the tilt of her voice smoother, more familiar to Lara's ears. "I wasn't going to," the archeologist replied honestly. It was true, if it hadn't been for her companion's nudging.

Kassandra's upper body shifted, she turned around, eyes gleaming golden under the setting light. "Fair enough," she smiled. "Our last encounter might have given you the wrong impression."

Lara quirked an eyebrow, inching closer to the other woman but not sitting down just yet. The misthios had taken her cape off, laid it on the ground to sit on, and left enough space for Lara. "Which one? When you tried to kill me, or when you tried to seduce me?"

She felt herself smile at Kassandra's surprised laughter, a pleasant feeling tugging at her heart before Lara remembered who it was and schooled her face back into a neutral expression.

"Both?" Kassandra tried, lifting her head to squint up at Lara, fully exposing her throat. It was a dangerous position. A show of submission. Of trust. The sly smirk she had been sporting in the agora was back. "But it must have worked, since you're here."

Lara shook her head, rolling her eyes at the misthios' antics. "I can still leave," she warned. This Kassandra was certainly very full on. The archeologist took the last step and flopped down next to her. "You said you wanted to talk," she replied after a while.

Her eyes lingered on the waves - the view was breathtaking. Sam would be all over this, taking pictures of the birds flying towards the setting sun. If only she were here.

Sam… what would she say if she knew?

"Get it. Get the girl, Lara! Crawl out of your hole and get the girl! Stop thinking."

Probably.

"It is beautiful here, isn't it?" Kassandra echoed her thoughts, watching Lara from the corner of her eye before she moved again, fumbling with the buckle of her pteryges.

Lara's eyes bulged out when she heard the telltale clinking of a loosening belt. She whipped her head around to take stock of the threat, and scrambled away on the grass.

"Wait! It's not what you think!" Kassandra lifted her head and shook her hand. "I'm not trying to…" she removed the belt, presenting it to the archeologist with an awkward laugh. "Here. This is yours, I believe?"

Lara blinked, her gaze flickering between the woman's nervous smile and her belt. "Uh...?"

Kassandra nudged her with it. "When we fought in Phokis. On the cliff? Do you remember?"

Oh.

"Oh."

She had kept it all this time. Lara hadn't noticed her wearing it when they had met earlier.

The misthios nodded at her. "You took it out," her lips tugged up again before quipping, "Interesting technique you used."

Lara puffed out a small laugh. Quick thinking and desperation, more like, she thought, when her eyes lingered on the belt. She frowned at the indentation on the leather. "Did you…" Lara glanced up. "Are those teeth marks? Did you bite on it?"

Kassandra held her breath, freezing for a couple of seconds before squeaking out: "No?"

That meant yes.

Lara's face hadn't moved an inch. Kassandra gave up, sighing. "Maybe," her hand flailed in the air again before it went up and around her neck to massage her shoulder absentmindedly. "But I had a good reason!"

"I'm sure," Lara's chuckle was quiet. It was surprisingly easy to talk to the Eagle Bearer, she mused. A lot easier than her Kassandra, whom she'd had to fight tooth and nail with for any crumb of information the woman deigned to offer.

Fundamentally similar, yet intrinsically different. Kassandra had been shaped by centuries of living; guarded by nature, immortality had exacerbated this trait of character.

"I asked you to come here because I wanted to apologize," the misthios' voice startled her. It dawned on Lara that her Kassandra spoke slower when they used Greek together. Not by much, but slow enough for her to notice the difference now.

It's the little things.

She turned her head, looking at the woman's profile. Her face was carefully blank, this time. No mischievous glint, not even a smile as she kept staring straight ahead. "For what?"

Kassandra cleared her throat, peering up at the darkening sky. "First, for killing your friend but…" she turned to her. "She seemed fine this morning."

Right.

Lara nodded slowly, watching Kassandra's face morph into an expression of wonder. "Are the rumors true?" she asked a second later. The archeologist's confused frown prompted her to continue, "They say she comes from Tartaros. That Hades himself won't have her in the Underworld, nor Persephone in Elysium, that he cursed her."

Lara gave her another slow nod and stifled back her laughter, hiding it behind a coughing fit. She waved her hand when the other woman leaned over her, looking worried. "I'm okay," she coughed again.

Where did those rumors even come from?

"You don't need to explain anything…" Kassandra's voice echoed in her head. "They will come up with something they can understand and rationalize."

That was one way to explain immortality, indeed. A curse, never a blessing. Kassandra and Jacob would both agree, unlike Ana.

"Yes," Lara nodded, after a while. "Something like that."

The misthios hummed. "I see," her eyes squinted. "Where did you find her?"

This Kassandra was certainly a lot nosier. The archeologist chewed on her lip, mind scrambling for an answer. "In a cave...?" there was no need to lie if she kept things vague. "I was looking for my… my mentor. She was searching for him as well. To…" Lara trailed off. "To lift the curse. He knows how to lift the curse. Her curse, I mean."

That half-arsed explanation wasn't going to win Lara the BAFTA anytime soon. Her lying skills extended as far as her shrinking social circle. As obvious as her deflecting was, it seemed to placate the misthios. Kassandra nodded again, tearing her gaze away to look back at the sea for a while.

"Thank you, for not taking my spear," it was a whisper, so low Lara wouldn't have caught it if she hadn't been listening. She looked to the side to see Kassandra's head hanging low. "It's… it's a family heirloom," she smiled at the archeologist, none of the sly grins or bravado she had been sporting earlier, no smokescreens. It was something else, something shy, nervous and definitely familiar. "It belonged to my grandfather. I've had it since I was a child."

The only thing I have left, the silence spoke for her.

Lara's fingers went to her pendant - her first find; a Jade stone that Amelia had gotten engraved with a few words on the back. Roth had used one of his army-approved shoelaces to turn it into a makeshift necklace. It took years, but Sam's incessant nagging had her cave in, and replace it with a sturdier leather string when it started falling apart.

"I understand," she said honestly.

Lara wondered what had become of that spear. Kassandra never mentioned it before… maybe she could ask her later.

"I didn't know why there was so much drachmae on your head," the other woman continued, looking down at her fidgeting fingers. She was nervous again, Lara could tell. "I needed the money, I didn't think."

She looked up, meeting Lara's gaze again.

"You helped a friend of mine." Kassandra had also called Kyra a friend, back then, despite their discrepancies. "You fought with her," the misthios bit her the inside of her cheek, brows creasing into a frown. "I should have been there."

You were

"I should have been there to help," she repeated, frustration seeping through her voice. "Instead of hunting you."

No matter which version, Kassandra would always beat herself over past mistakes. Regrets followed her like shadows wherever she went.

Lara felt awkward under the misthios' scrutiny. She could deal with half-hearted attempts at flirting, it was a good reminder of who she was talking to - the Kassandra she knew would never flirt with her like that, had never even tried. But honesty and genuine remorse were a whole other beast. It hit too close to home. Too close to her future self.

Lara's hands balled into fists as she willed herself to stay still, not to reach and squeeze her arm. She gave Kassandra a weak smile and a nod, instead. "It's okay," she said. "It was a long time ago," clearing her throat, she joked. "Nobody died."

Her face fell when she realized her mistake. Lara lowered her head, jamming her eyes shut to chase away the images of Kassandra writhing on the ground as she fought an invisible noose off her neck. Lying there, unresponsive despite the archeologist's attempts to revive her. Watching over her body in the temple, hope thinning out as hours turned into days and Kassandra didn't wake up.

Never again.

The Eagle Bearer said nothing. Feeling Lara's mood plummeting, she opted to let the conversation come to an end. She turned towards the sea, then back at the archeologist, brows creasing with her frown. "What's your name?"

"What?" she blinked at her dumbly.

"Your name," Kassandra repeated with a wide grin. "Daughter of Hephaïstos."

Oh, right. The bounty mustn't have mentioned it. The Mykonians had adopted the moniker after they had destroyed the Spartan ships during the siege. Nobody except Kyra and her immediate circle knew her actual name.

"Lara," the archeologist said. It felt weird to reintroduce herself to Kassandra like this. Though, the other woman had known who she was, back in Rintomos, almost two years ago. "Moss talks a lot about you…"

"My name is Lara."

The grin widened. "It's pretty," her reply held none of the seductive undertones of earlier. "Does it mean anything in your language?"

Her genuine interest was throwing Lara off. She stammered awkwardly, clearing her throat, eyes narrowed in a squint. How much could she reveal?

"Not really…" she shrugged a few moments later, feeling sheepish. "My parents were travelers. Scholars. They were fond of Egypt, and named me after the Egyptian Sun God, Ra," she was babbling. Lara knew she was babbling, but she couldn't stop herself, this was a slippery slope. Egyptology was her kryptonite, had been ever since she learned to read and devoured every single book in her father's office. "But it's common," she said, waving her hands. "Really common."

The twinkle in Kassandra's eyes was unnerving. "So, you are a Goddess, after all," her laugh rose loud again when the archeologist rolled her eyes and swatted her shoulder like she'd done a thousand times to her older self. Kassandra leaned over her, whispering conspicuously, "Are you a princess?"

"No," she chuckled despite herself. It was hard to resist, and Lara surprised herself not wanting to. Kassandra's easy banter was nice.

"But you look like you could be a princess. And you have your own bodyguard."

There she was again, casually dropping compliments, though she had worked on her subtlety this time.

"I'm not a princess," Lara insisted, still smiling. "And she isn't my bodyguard."

Kassandra was very much her bodyguard, actually.

"She jumped in front of an arrow for you. Either you pay her very well or…"

"Or…?" Lara quirked an eyebrow, eyes twinkling.

Kassandra puffed and shook her head. "Nothing," she bit her lip, sounding very much like she was having a laugh at Lara's expense. They said nothing for a while, focusing back on the purple reflections of the sea.

"Have you visited Athens before?" Kassandra asked, a few minutes later, shifting her body to face Lara, her naked thigh brushing accidentally against the young woman's.

Intentional or not, Lara didn't pull away, eyes flickering towards their legs before she shook her head no. It wasn't exactly a lie; the Athens she had seen as a child was nothing like the city behind her now. A pale shadow in comparison, riddled with depleted ruins that demanded a lot of imagination to see as the wonders they once were. "It's my first time here."

Kassandra gave her the biggest grin, eyes gleaming under the moonlight. "Are you looking for a guide?"

Lara caught on the double entendre in her tone and was tempted to say no, when she remembered that she was also on a mission. Spending more time with the Eagle Bearer meant she could find out why Kassandra had come here earlier. She squinted, giving her a long suspicious once over until the misthios started squirming, looking as guilty as her older self when she was caught off guard.

"With the most honorable intentions," Kassandra added hastily, her voice rising a few octaves. "I promise. You can bring your friend along, if you want."

"No," Lara blurted with more force than necessary. It would be too dangerous to have them both around each other. Besides, Kassandra did say she had things to take care of. "She won't come."

The misthios bit her lower lip, attempting to smother the winning smile and nodded. Clearing her throat, she told her, "So, just you and me then?"

Lara had walked right into that one. "Another word, and I will leave," she said tersely. Kassandra was getting it all wrong. Lara was on a mission.

The other woman raised her hands in a pacifying gesture before making a show of clamping her mouth shut with her palm. Her eyes narrowed into half-mooned slits with her muffled chuckle when Lara laughed.

Dork…

The archeologist looked up, the moon was high, higher than she thought. Time flew, Lara hadn't realized. "It's late," she pointed out, peering over at Kassandra. "I need to go."

The woman's lips twitched down, disappointment obvious on her features, but she still nodded. Rising up to her feet at the same time as the archeologist, she observed their surroundings and asked, "Where's your horse?"

Lara dusted the cape out of habit before handing it back to her. "I walked."

Kassandra blinked in disbelief. "You walked?" she turned around, towards the city and its blurry lights, then back at her. "All the way?"

Lara didn't see where the problem was. They had been walking around for close to two years now. It was okay. "Yes? Why?"

Her confused frown deepened when Kassandra grumbled something that sounded a lot like maláka under her breath. She brought her index finger and thumb to her lips, letting out a shrill whistle.

Lara kept staring at her. Nothing happened for a few moments until her ears caught on steady clomping approaching. A black beast of a stallion trotted lazily towards them, stopping near Kassandra to nuzzle her chest.

"Let me take you back?" she smiled, running her hand under the horse's jaw. "Phobos?" she called. "Meet Lara."

The horse snorted, turning his head towards the archeologist as Kassandra mounted him.

Phobos… fitting for an animal whose large hooves looked like they could trample people and goats alike. Where did Kassandra even find those pets, anyway?

Lara's smile was wry. The myths she had read about the Eagle Bearer riding a horse from the Underworld made a lot more sense. "I can walk," she said, eyeing the horse suspiciously.

Kassandra had the audacity to roll her eyes, leaning over and offering her hand. "He is fast," she gestured for Lara to come closer. "And gentle, you don't have to be afraid."

Phobos snorted again, staring at Lara. "I'm not," she said, forgoing Kassandra's help to haul herself up with one hand on his back, swinging her leg over and settling behind the misthios in one swift motion.

The horse neighed lowly but accepted the extra weight without fussing.

"Impressive," the word rolled out of Kassandra's mouth, tinted with incredulity when she threw a glance behind her.

Cheltenham Ladies' College and its mandatory equestrian classes — one of the few outdoor activities deemed ladylike enough for Blue Bloods, Lara wanted to say, before remembering this Kassandra had no idea what she would be talking about.

"I've had practice," she replied instead, straightening her back.

A low chuckle rumbled from the other woman's chest as she steered the horse forward. "I can see that. Now, grab on something," holding the reins in one hand, Kassandra put on her helmet before letting out, "Ela!"

Phobos immediately dashed towards the city, galloping at full speed and forcing Lara to hold onto the nearest thing not to topple over: Kassandra's red cape.

The horse was faster than his large frame let on. Soon enough, Athens came into focus as Phobos sped through the empty roads. A flash of dotted yellow joined them when they neared the fortified walls.

Lara felt Kassandra's puff, her words muffled by the wind and steady clomping. "You're back."

The cheetah followed until they reached the gates, gliding through wary and cowering civilians without a care in the world. Phobos slowed to a light walk when they entered.

"Here is good," Lara spoke when they reached the treasury, tapping the woman's shoulder. "I'm not far."

Kassandra followed her instructions, tugging on the reins and waiting until the archeologist lowered herself on the ground with a graceful leap. She followed suit, removing her helmet. "I can walk you to your inn."

Oh, for heaven's sake, she was absolutely relentless.

Something must have shown on Lara's face because Kassandra started stammering awkwardly, "I mean walk… and then leave. I will leave," she stopped there, before smiling, "If that's what you want?"

Lara eyed her, trying to reconcile the Kassandra she'd known so far with this very different side of her. She was obviously interested - intrigued, Kassandra had said - yet knew nothing about Lara, unlike her other self. Maybe it was only physical, after all.

The archeologist wouldn't risk it.

"Thank you for the generous offer," Lara began. "But I will walk myself there," she smoothed out the rejection with a smile.

Kassandra gave a deep bow, hands clasped behind her back. "As you wish," she said, though failed to hide the tinge of disappointment in her voice. Her grin came back a second later. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

She sounded hopeful, almost like an overexcited puppy to Lara's ears. She shook her head at her antics, chuckling softly. "Yes, probably."

Kassandra nodded in quick succession, her whole face beaming. "Sleep well, Lara."

The young woman nodded, opening her mouth to bid her goodbye when the cheetah approached her again. She stared as the animal sniffed her leg, purring softly.

"He likes you," Kassandra noted with a hint of pride.

Lara's eyes flickered towards her before she lifted her hand, running her fingers through the crown of his head. "I think he does?" she said, surprise seeping into her voice. The cheetah's tongue lolled out, licking Lara's fingertips. It was coarser than she imagined it to be.

"Come on, now," the other woman laughed. "Be a good boy and leave her alone," she flicked her hand, giving light taps on the leather of her pteryges' skirt.

The feline obeyed, turning around to stand by Kassandra. "Chaire." she gave Lara a shy smile and another bow, not waiting for an answer before she mounted Phobos and trotted away.

-0-

It might have been a bit presumptuous, but Lara had expected Kassandra to be there when she came back. Instead, the room was plunged in darkness, undisturbed and it looked like it had been for a few hours.

She let out a tired breath, chastising her stupidly hopeless heart for thinking Kassandra would patiently wait to welcome her. Lara felt weird; restless with pent-up energy and the urge to talk to someone. The young woman ended up spilling her guts to her journal, blackening its pages with the events of the night and a small sketch of the view from Thorikos.

After walking a hole in the small room and eating a meager late-night snack, she lay on the klinē's silk-cushioned hardwood, her rest fitful until she heard the soft slapping sounds of someone passing through the window.

Her ears had adjusted to Kassandra's breathing, walking and even climbing style over time. She felt her body relax at her presence, becoming aware of the light footsteps.

"The door wasn't locked, you know."

"Malá—"

Something heavy (a startled Kassandra) collided against one of the clay pots on the table. Lara heard it roll, then fall, though Kassandra managed to grab the pot before it shattered on the floor.

"You scared me!" she hissed lowly.

Lara shifted around on the couch to face her. The moonlight shined behind her cloaked and hooded figure, making her look a lot more imposing.

She squinted at the light, running a hand through her loose hair. "Sorry?"

Kassandra removed the mask but not her hood, gingerly putting the pot back where it was before she had slammed onto the table.

"You're here," she noted with a hint of surprise.

"Of course, I am," Lara moved again, leaning her back against the wall. "Where would I be?"

Kassandra shrugged, bringing her the lapels of the cloak closer to her frame. "I wasn't expecting you till morning," she mumbled.

"Why would…" did she really think they would… a closer look at her stiff posture and tense shoulders told the archeologist that yes - yes, indeed, Kassandra had fully expected Lara to do just that.

"No!" she almost yelled. "No, no, no," her arms flailed around wildly. "No. We just talked."

"Talked?"

She didn't know if the incredulity in Kassandra's tone was credited to the Eagle Bearer's… restraint or Lara's. Either way, it stung that Kassandra thought that she would jump in bed with the first person who showed interest, like some starved, hormonal teen. Who did she think Lara was?

"Talked," she repeated, not hiding the edge in her voice.

Kassandra didn't notice, or maybe she didn't care. She nodded once, dragging a chair before sitting sluggishly on it. Her movements were slow, exhausted. Lara squinted, but she couldn't quite make out her features.

"Are you alright?"

Kassandra stood up, mumbling a quiet hum before she walked to the water pot near the door. That part of the room was covered in complete darkness, preventing the archeologist from seeing anything.

"Where were you?" she tried again, when Kassandra removed her cloak.

"Busy."

She leaned over the pot, splashing and scrubbing her face with her hands. Lara pursed her lips, Kassandra hadn't been that dismissive in a very, very long time. Something was wrong.

"Kassandra," she said softly, reigning in the instinct to get up and walk to the woman. "What happened?"

Silence hung between them for a while, only disturbed by the water's burble and quiet drops of water on hardwood. She straightened, dabbing her face with a cloth, and worked on untying the armor.

"I took care of a few Cultists," her voice was dull. "That's all."

That wasn't all, and they both knew it. Kassandra was shutting her out and refused to talk, for some reason. Lara racked her brain, trying to understand her sudden mood shift. If it wasn't the archeologist, then…

"Your brother?" she saw Kassandra's shoulders stiffen again, heard her breath itch in her throat. "Is he here?" Lara dared.

The woman shook her head. "Not yet."

She had swapped her leather linothorax for a metal one with a purple shawl, Lara remarked. It gleamed, even in the near-darkness of the room. Too bright to be bronze. Silver… her mind connected the dots quickly.

"What did you find?" Lara crawled out of the covers, taking the few steps that separated them. "What did you find in the Cultist camp?" she repeated, when Kassandra refused to answer.

The woman was chewing on her inner cheek, her mouth was probably bloody. "A letter," her voice a low, rumbling with restrained anger. She turned her head towards Lara, guided by her gentle touch. Her eyes were a deep amber, swirling with barely contained rage. "An order of execution from the Ghost to Deimos," she gritted out.

The Ghost, Kassandra hadn't revealed their identity yet, only giving nebulous details to Lara. An Athenian waddling in the high spheres of society. Every time the young woman had tried to fish for more information, the answer had been the same: hunting the Ghost wasn't their prerogative. They were to help the Eagle Bearer in her quest, and that was it. Kassandra would figure out who the Cult's leader was on her own.

"To kill someone you know…" Lara deducted, feeling her own anger boiling within.

Kassandra let out a shaky breath, nodding meekly. "I didn't know who…" her voice broke, she lifted her head, blinking at the ceiling and tried again. "I didn't know who had ordered it the first time," her hands fell at her sides, balling into fists. "But it was her handwriting…" Kassandra closed her eyes, her whole body shaking. "She lied to me," she growled. "She lied to me and I believed her."

The journey from Chios to Delphi is fast. Kassandra blinks and there she is, feet walking with purpose towards the Cult's lair just as the sun rises.

Aspasia won't see twilight.

The temple underneath is empty, Kassandra follows the stairs burrowing deeper into the cave. The guards that had flanked each door were nowhere to be seen, the worshippers had met Charon at the tip of her spear. Each and every single one of them.

Even her own brother.

But Kassandra doesn't want to think about him, of Myrinne's anguish and ashen eyes, of his frozen, pallid face. Of the cry for help underneath his foolish, misplaced anger.

Aspasia will pay for that, too. For everything.

Her footsteps are loud in this deliberate way. Kassandra doesn't want to be discreet; she isn't a predator stalking her prey. She wants Aspasia to know she is here, wants her to feel and hear the inevitability of her fate - like the black smoke rising of a blazing fire, thick, potent and stifling.

Death, at Kassandra's spear, like all the others.

Even her own brother.

The cave is empty, bathed in the orange glow of the pyramid in the middle. It stands idle, like an affront. Her fingers itch, it calls to her but all she wants is to destroy the fucking thing. Like it destroyed her and her family.

It calls, her hand stretches before she can stop it. Flashing before her eyes are visions of faces, people, herself, Pythagoras prattling about things that don't make sense. Chaos; Order... Kassandra doesn't want to think about them, those are to be revisited later, when her anger is sated. When the call for revenge becomes a whisper. What she wants now is blood.

Aspasia's blood.

"You've seen it too, then?" her voice is grating, she moves leisurely, like the snake she is. Kassandra peers to the side. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

She sneers, barely. Aspasia has to think she's won. Kassandra plays along, pretends to be surprised, talks and argues her points halfheartedly — she had known, on the second day of Iokaste's torturous death, Kassandra had known. The Daughter, the traitor to her kin, the impostor, the nonbeliever had revealed the Ghost's identity in the same breath she had spilled her guts. With tears of blood, and begging to be put out of her misery.

It's almost too easy. Here she was, the woman who had taught rhetoric to Sokrates, the silver tongue of silver tongues, lying her teeth out. Every inquiry has its answer.

Alexios' abduction?

It was before she became the Ghost.

Perikles' death?

Something that should never have happened. All she ever did was to protect him.

The Cult never wanted Kassandra's death. The Cult worshipped her and her bloodline.

(Kassandra almost laughs.)

Each of her lies adds up like a web, like the sweet shanties of sirens, and Kassandra is losing patience, but she keeps her face in check. Aspasia tells her to let go of everything she knows, to just imagine. Imagine the possibilities, the power, in the palms of their hands. Together.

To be worshipped, like the Goddess she is.

(Kassandra is tired. Kassandra doesn't want to be worshipped; she wants to rest. Close her eyes and sleep for a thousand years.)

"What about Phoibe," she interrupts her diatribe, inching closer. "Did you kill her?"

Aspasia's eyes lose their light, her face falls, her words stripped of their intensity. Kassandra is surprised to see guilt and remorse. "No," the woman answers. "It wasn't me—"

She doesn't want to believe her.

"Four men, Aspasia," she cuts her off again, growling. "Four grown men surrounded her. One child."

"You have to believe me," her voice loses its edge. It's not soft, it's raw, emotional. True. "I loved Phoibe, I would never…"

She loves but herself.

(Kassandra doesn't want to believe her, and yet…)

"I didn't do it, Kassandra," she pleads, eyes taking on a watery shine. "The chaos in Athens I… I had no knowledge of—Kleon…" Kassandra's sneer is instant when she utters the cursed name. "Kleon gave the order, I only found out after we fled. You have to believe me," she says again.

Right then, it's not Aspasia she sees. Not Perikles' consort, not the silver tongue of silver tongues, but a woman who had aged beyond her years. One who had bitten off more than she could chew. One who had lost too much in a war she couldn't control. Her son, her status, her husband, her influence.

Stripped of her power, Aspasia was nothing. A silphe scurrying away from the light.

"You have to believe me," she falls to her knees, muttering like a mantra. "I would never have hurt Phoibe," her voice breaks, tears seeping through her eyelids. "Not after my son…"

The pain is raw underneath her words, the anguish genuine when her gaze meets Kassandra's steely one. Aspasia's face doesn't move when she says, "Kill me," the light in her eyes resolute. "If you don't believe me, then kill me. Let me reunite with the family I have lost."

The family she had sacrificed, for a greater purpose. Greater than her own life.

Kassandra sees it then, death would be solace.

The solace Aspasia doesn't deserve, even if it's Tartaros that awaits her.

She glares, and in the haze of her fury, spits in her face. "Fuck you," Kassandra snarls.

A thousand words she wants to say, a million curses, she itches to claw Aspasia's eyes out and feed them back to her. Her mouth bleeds with anger. "If we cross paths ever again…" she says, crouching and yanking Aspasia's diadem. "You will end the way Iokaste did."

-0-

Lara's face remained unnervingly impassive when Kassandra spoke, revealing what had happened after Alexios' death, after Chios, and then Delphi. Aspasia. Phoibe.

"I thought maybe…" her voice had lost its edge, words coming raspier and weary. "Maybe she had told the truth, after all," she blinked at her folded hands. "A part of me wanted to believe it. She'd lost a child, a family, she…" Lara reached out then, fingers curling around hers and squeezing. "I was so tired," the first tear was a surprise. "So tired of killing I just—" a hiccup spilled out of her mouth.

She had been played, Aspasia had planted the seed of doubt, daring her to do what she had come to do, only to have Kassandra spare her life out of spite.

"Hey," Lara squeezed her hand again, running her palm up Kassandra's arm to reach her cheek. "It's not your fault," she whispered when their eyes met. "None of this was."

Kassandra could feel more tears coming up, sobs gathering at the back of her throat, inevitable no matter how hard she swallowed. "I should have known—" words lodged in her throat, bruising on their way out when her body started shaking. "I should have kil—killed, avenged Phoi-Phoibe, I should ha—"

"Shh," Lara gathered her in a hug, bringing Kassandra's tear-streaked face above her beating heart, curling herself around the woman, to shield her from grief. "Shh," rocking back and forth when Kassandra's quiet sobs overwhelmed her. "Let it out," she kept whispering. "Let it out."

Kassandra wailed. Without a care of whom could hear, she wept until her eyes dried shut. When tears refused to fall, she screamed and howled in the crook of Lara's neck, clutching her in a bruising grip till her throat was too sore and all that came out were muffled shrieks of anguish. Lara held her through it. She whispered soothing words on her skin, weathered it all for however long it took - sure arms wrapped protectively around Kassandra, hair like a curtain, shielding her from the world.

Lara didn't let go, not even when Kassandra's exhausted body and delirious mind finally shut down, in the wee hours of the morning.

It was the orange hue on her eyelids that made Kassandra stir, the following day. One hazel eye cracking open at the bright sunlight.

She groaned, her mouth felt like cotton, lips chapped dry and stuck to the fabric underneath the side of her face. Rays filtered through dark shadows, as she took a breath, and a pleasant scent caressed her nostrils. Kassandra cocked her head, burrowing deeper into its source. Her brows furrowed as the fog of sleep dissipated, and she became gradually aware of three things:

Her left leg was trapped, knee locked under something unmoving.

Fine strands of hair were tickling her cheek in the most annoying way.

One hand was sprawled on her upper thigh, and it was definitely not hers.

She tensed, getting an eyeful of Lara's nearly exposed chest when her brain awoke from its slumber. Kassandra held her breath, moving her head away from the young woman's chest as slowly as she dared. Her hand was lying flat on the archeologist's stomach, dangerously close to the swell of her breast, underneath the cropped chiton. She took it out in slow motion, careful not to make any sudden movement despite the raging storm inside of her. Kassandra brought it up, dragging Lara's shirt, ever so slowly, to cover her upper body.

Crisis averted… she breathed in relief, realizing her mistake only when the body beneath hers stirred in response.

She froze again. Lara mumbled something unintelligible, locking Kassandra's right ankle with hers (how in the name of Hades had they gotten so tangled?), before letting out a contented sigh.

Kassandra counted backwards from fifty, and when Lara didn't stir again, she closed her eyes and tried to think. There was no way to get out of this without waking her up. She had no recollection of falling asleep, and the sobbing in Lara's arms was already mortifying in itself.

There was no way to pretend last night hadn't happened. If the archeologist woke up and didn't run up the hills after her mental breakdown, Kassandra would consider it an accomplishment.

Finding herself between a rock and a hard place, the woman attempted to move again, raising her hips in slow motion—

"Stay," she heard distinctly, this time.

Kassandra froze again, holding her breath for a second. The fingers on her leg drummed, before disappearing. Lara's hand travelled up and burrowed itself in her hair to massage her scalp.

"Stay," she muttered for the third time, voice scratchy misuse.

Kassandra considered pretending to be asleep for a fleeting moment but disregarded the idea right away. She didn't want to lie to Lara. "How long have you been awake?"

Tremors rippled through Kassandra when the archeologist cleared her throat. "A little while?"

That was polite talk for hours; the woman mused, coming to the conclusion that Lara probably hadn't slept at all. "I'm sorry," she said, softly. "I didn't mean to—"

"Shh," Lara didn't stop her motions but shifted a little. "No talking right now," she mumbled, moving her foot, freeing the woman's ankle but keeping her leg above Kassandra's.

Okay.

No talking, yeah… she could do that.

Kassandra decided to cherish the reprieve for as long as it would last. Lying there, in Lara's arms almost felt like she was floating. The woman found herself unconsciously trying to match Lara's slow breathing, her eyes drooped, drifting in and out of slumber. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt like this.

"I'm not crushing you, am I?" Kassandra asked, wriggling a little, suddenly very aware that her full weight rested on top Lara and the poor woman probably had trouble taking deep breaths.

She felt the body underneath her jerk a little, the archeologist had been dozing off too, her limp hand still buried in brown strands of hair. "No," she paused for a beat. "Kassandra?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

She blinked several times, surprised at the injunction. Her lips stretched in a smile, one that Kassandra hid in the crook of Lara's neck.

"Okay," she whispered in her skin before closing her eyes again.


Lara dragged herself through lively, bubbly Athens, feeling sluggish, each step slower than the other. She was alone, having left Kassandra in their room after informing the other woman of her upcoming meeting with the Eagle Bearer.

Kassandra had only nodded and told her to enjoy the city while they were here. Lara hadn't dared to ask her what she would be doing in the meantime, but she had a hunch it involved more Cultist hunting. Maybe she would stand guard at the Ghost's home.

Aspasia…

History had never been keen on remembering and celebrating the women of Ancient Greece, but Aspasia had been one of the few Lara had read about. There had always been an air of mystery about her; little information, no date of death, always described through the scope of the men she had helped rise to power. Her own accomplishments had been overshadowed by the more famous men who had leeched off of her teachings and used intellect to serve their own purposes.

The archeologist had always put this biased oversight on researchers themselves, but with the description Kassandra had given her of the woman, Lara was inclined to think that it had been all intentional.

Hell, Aspasia wasn't even her real name, to begin with.

Lara had no idea what she would do if she met her. The thought alone was filling her with so much rage, remembering Kassandra's anguish. Would she be able to keep her anger at bay?

Those thoughts kept circling around in her head and Lara let out a tired sigh, squinting up at the sky. An eagle was flying in circles above her. The woman threaded her way through the busy streets of upper Athens, trying her best not to stop and gawk every few steps. The music was the most surprising part of her discoveries; bards at every corner were fiddling their fingers on a sambyke's strings, a wreath of flowers on their heads while small crowds of passersby cheered them on or swayed in rhythm and hummed along to the tune. Her bleary eyes kept drifting towards the Parthenon up the hill, drawn to the monument like a magnet.

Perikles' wonder. His gift to Athens and the Greek world.

No matter her exhaustion, she would see it today, the archeologist decided. Even if she had to drag herself there.

Lara weaved through the crowd, hearing a piercing shriek before the feathery blur that had been following her flew overhead to land on Hera's marbled head a few meters away. The eagle glared and she glared right back. It was Kassandra's, no doubt about it, she recognized his old-man stare.

"You're doing it on purpose, aren't you," she mumbled in English, watching him fluff the feathers on his chest.

He squawked again, stretching both of his wings, throwing her what she could only interpret as a look of pure disdain.

"I hope that wasn't an insult," Kassandra's cheerful voice sounded behind the archeologist. "Ikaros is very susceptible."

Lara's shoulders stiffened on instinct. How on Earth could they both sneak up on her like this? She veered around, coming face to face with a megawatt smile and twinkling eyes. "I know that," the words came out before she could stop them. "I guessed," Lara added quickly, scrambling to come up with an explanation when she noticed the confused crease on Kassandra's face. "He reminds me of someone I know," her hands moved towards him limply. "Same disapproving frowny eyes."

Kassandra grinned. "Your pater?"

Lara internally sighed in relief. She shook her head, lips tugging up at the thought of Winston. "Close, but no," although he'd had as much a hand in raising her as her own parents. Especially after Amelia's passing.

The other woman walked towards the statue, stretching her arm for the eagle to hop on. "Hear that, Ikaros?" she cooed. "Stop being a frowny bird."

His beak opened soundlessly, wings flapping in the air, before he dug his talons on Kassandra's leather gauntlet and took flight. She followed his ascent, squinting up at the clouds where he soared.

"He is definitely offended," Kassandra noted with a hint of humor.

Lara looked at her while the other woman stared up. She wasn't wearing a helmet today, forgoing the gold and red armor for leather gauntlets and shoulder straps that revealed a grey chiton underneath. Despite the deceptively casual lighter gear, Kassandra's weapons were on full display on her back.

Honed by years of being a mercenary, this sent a clear message: she wasn't looking for a fight, but she was ready, should the occasion arise.

Lara frowned, noticing the red rivulets tickling down her thumb. "You're bleeding."

"What?" Kassandra's head whipped down from the sky, confused as she lowered her gaze to her hand. "Oh," and shook it. "He didn't mean to do that," Kassandra put pressure on the indentations Ikaros had dug. She lifted her eyes, eyes twinkling with her smile. "It will heal. I've had worse."

That's what her older self had said after smashing her way through mirrors barehanded, on Thera.

What is wrong with you? Lara chastised in her head, rolling her eyes before approaching the misthios. "Show me your arm," better take care of this before the plague hits. An untreated cut could get infected.

Kassandra tilted her head, her smile stretching into nervous territory. "I'll be fine."

The young woman didn't listen, turning Kassandra's forearm up to untie the gauntlet with practiced movements. Revealing her bruised wrist and bloody cuts, Lara fetched the sideritis ointment she kept in her belt satchel. "It will burn," she said with her head down before spreading the dark mixture.

Kassandra puffed, still puzzled by the whole situation. "I know—" she still hissed, wrist trembling at the sensation but didn't pull away.

Lara made a quick work of bandaging her hand and tightening the gauntlet back in place.

"Like that, you won't lose your thumb," she said, noticing Kassandra's flabbergasted expression.

The surprise didn't last long, she flashed another of her mischievous smirks. "That would be very unfortunate."

Lara's sleep-deprived brain took a few seconds to process the remark. She squinted at Kassandra.

It was hard to imagine this was the same woman she'd had wrapped in her arms only a few hours ago. The same woman whose comforting weight and regular breathing had made Lara feel safe in her restless slumber, bold enough to ask her to stay like this when Kassandra had woken up, mortified by their predicament. She had wanted nothing but to bury her nose in Kassandra's hair and drop a kiss there.

"Is there something on my face?"

Lara blinked slowly, drawn out of her thoughts by the uncannily similar voice that had been occupying her head. "What?"

The misthios shook her head, gesturing for Lara to follow her through the street.

"You look tired," Kassandra observed her from the corner of her eye, after a few minutes of silence.

Fully agreeing with the misthios, Lara's body stabbed her in the back, forcing her mouth open in the loudest yawn possible. She nodded a moment later. "I didn't sleep much last night."

Still groggy and unguarded, Lara had walked right into that one. Kassandra's lips stretched in another of her mischievous smirks, eyes sparkling knowingly.

"Was it because of me?"

It was exactly because of you, her mind answered.

"Don't flatter yourself, Eagle Bearer."

Kassandra tilted her head, visibly amused. "You are fiercer, when you don't sleep."

Just a regular Brit, Lara wanted to say. She hadn't even had her morning tea, now that she was thinking about it.

The other woman took two large steps, getting ahead of her before pivoting around on her sandals and walking backwards, facing the archeologist as she proclaimed, "I, for one, thought of you," with a proud nod.

Lara had absolutely no idea what to say to her. She was even too tired for her knee-jerk reaction of awkward stammering to kick in.

She blinked at Kassandra a couple of times. "Okay."

The woman didn't let her apparent lethargy sour her mood and smiled even brighter, pointing upwards. "Let's go to the Acropolis."

Finally, something they could agree on. Lara nodded, trying to keep the excitement off her face and the bounce off her steps as they trekked up the stairs flanked by humongous colored statues.

"As I live and breathe, Kassandra of House Agiad walking alongside Aphrodite herself," a blond man in a purple himation stalked towards them when they reached the Acropolis' gate.

He was lithe and slender, but definitely muscular. His smothering blue eyes bore into Lara's, scratching and teasing at her very soul. She froze.

"I am so jealous," he said, casually running his fingers down her arm, before turning towards the other woman. "Where do you find them, misthios?"

Kassandra seemed completely unaffected by the sexual energy radiating off of the man. She shrugged casually. "In the wild, mostly."

"The wild," he repeated, eyeing Lara with ravenous hunger. "Perhaps I should leave politics and wander the forests…" his voice trailed off. "To find such a delicious… creature for myself."

Every fiber of Lara's rational brain was screaming offense. The rest of her mind was absolutely entranced by the man's features.

Thankfully, Kassandra came to her rescue. "You can lay off the charm, Alkibiades."

"Oh, but I am just warming up…"

Their silent exchange only lasted a few seconds before his seductive smile turned more genuine, breaking the archeologist's trance. He gave Lara a deep bow.

Alkibiades… her mouth hung open.

"I thought I was your favorite?" Kassandra quipped, drawing all his sexual attention back to her, to Lara's relief.

He lifted his hand, pointing. "You will always be my favorite misthios," Alkibiades drawled, turning to Lara again. "But the world is vast, full of wonders…" he winked. "And forbidden fruits I would love to sink my teeth in… among other things."

In other circumstances, this would have been gag-inducing. Lara flushed bright red, cursing his hypnotic aura. The archeologist had always thought the descriptions to be overly exaggerated. The Greeks were fond of hyperboles, after all. Standing there, weathering the charms of Alkibiades himself, she understood why he'd gotten away with so much in life.

This man was beauty incarnate.

Kassandra quirked an eyebrow. "Don't you have a goat waiting for you somewhere? An orgy, maybe?"

The comments didn't seem to faze him, the man let out a hearty, if not melodious laugh, turning back towards Kassandra. "Jealous?"

"Very," she deadpanned, crossing her arms.

Alkibiades hummed, giving her a long look before shaking his head. "I do have matters of importance to attend, sadly," his eyes flickered towards Lara, then back at Kassandra. "Bring your… friend to the symposium tomorrow night," he grinned with all his teeth. "It would bring me great pleasure to see her again."

Alkibiades gave them another deep bow, walking away leisurely as the fog of lust he had brought with him dissipated and Lara regained more brain functions. She still couldn't believe it. Alkibiades in the flesh.

No gawking… she could hear Kassandra's terse voice in her head, her stern command raining on her like an ice-cold shower.

"Don't mind him," the Eagle Bearer said, giving her a sympathetic smile. "He will jump on anything with a pulse."

So I've read, Lara nodded. "He is…" she trailed off, looking for the right word to describe him.

"Pretty?" Kassandra finished for her. "Very pretty."

Lara chuckled. "That, too."

She turned around, looking at the gate again, the archeologist hadn't had time to admire it before her surreal encounter. "Magnificent…" she muttered in English, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand to squint at the fresco above the entrance.

Lara took a few steps back, standing at the edge of the stairs to have a better view, making a mental list of things she wanted to write down in her journal.

"I take it you like what you see," Kassandra joined her a few moments later.

That was the understatement of the century.

"Yes," she beamed at her. "It's beautiful."

Kassandra followed her gaze towards the fresco. "Extravagant, I would say."

Well, she wasn't wrong, but… "Wasn't that the point?" Lara stated, and Kassandra looked back at her, frowning slightly. "To be the focus of the Gods? Be remembered?"

Kassandra's lips pursed, shoulders rising in a slow shrug. "The Gods don't care. This," she said, gesturing to their surroundings. "Everything you see here is the vanity of men. Nothing else."

Lara was a little surprised by her acerbic response. The Kassandra she knew had always spoken fondly of this. Then again, she had seen the ravage of time firsthand, maybe the duty to remember had won over her initial cynicism.

"You seem to know a lot about our Gods and customs," the misthios mused out loud. "For a foreigner."

Crap.

Lara smacked her lips, averting Kassandra's curious gaze. "My… uh, my parents," she looked up, keeping the tremors off her voice. "I told you, they were scholars. They taught me. Taught me a lot about these things."

Kassandra nodded, tapping her chin lightly. "Were they like Herodotos?"

"Exactly like Herodotos," Lara agreed, before frowning. "Wait, how do you know him?"

Kassandra looked at her like she didn't understand the question. "Because he's on my ship?"

The archeologist had a moment of pause, blinking rapidly as the last part of the puzzle revealed itself and everything clicked together. Her research, Kassandra's wary looks in Sparta when Lara fussed over the map on the wall; inching closer and closer to the truth.

"What if Herodotos had met the Eagle Bearer?" she'd asked one night, slouching on the couch after yet another unfruitful day of research.

Kassandra had looked up from her translation, snorted and stared at Lara like she was tripping. "He would have written about him, wouldn't he?" her reply had been dry, irony dripping from her words as she added, "Such a grand warrior would have had a place in his book."

The nerve of this bloody woman!

He'd been there all along! The archeologist was right!

"Lara?"

"What," she snapped, tone clipped like barbed wire, still reeling at having been played like a sodding fiddle.

The woman raised her hands slowly, even taking a step back. "You seem upset."

Of-bloody-course, she was upset. Lara was foaming at the mouth. She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down, to take the situation into perspective. Kassandra had been trying to hide her identity, to protect herself... It made sense. Sure, this would have spared the archeologist a great many nights and frustrating hours of pouring over Histories, but...

The researcher in her was still stomping her feet, calling for Kassandra's blood. The more rational part understood why the woman hadn't said anything.

"I'm fine," she took another breath, feeling the tension ebb from her limbs. "Sorry."

Kassandra gave her a small smile, motioning for the archeologist to follow inside the temple. She left Lara to roam the building, content to follow and answer a few questions.


In other circumstances, Kassandra might have gotten bored. Surprisingly enough, Lara — what a pretty name, it rolled so easily around her tongue, she mused again — turned out to be as entertaining as she was mysterious.

The princess that didn't speak her name, fighter like no other, able to summon flames by sheer will, and yet, marveling at a heap of rocks like they were the second coming of Zeus himself.

What a strange woman...

"How long did it take to make this?" she pointed at the intricate sewing system that transported water to and from the public baths.

"Probably a few decades," Kassandra replied, feeling herself smile at the wonder etched in Lara's face.

She mumbled something in that obscure language of hers again, before adding, "It's brilliant."

"You don't have those where you're from?" Kassandra asked as they walked all the way back to the agora.

The sun was beginning its descent, the light breeze of the day picking up again. She saw Lara freeze again, biting her lip in thought.

"Not as advanced."

This sounded very much like a lie for some reason. For the life of her, Kassandra couldn't figure out why the woman would be lying about this. And yet...

"I see," her reply was plain, holding none of her own interrogations. Maybe she would ask her about that another time, when her guard had mellowed.

The agora was emptying, merchants slowly packing up for the day while singers and musicians chugged down a few cups before hollering again. Night would be falling soon.

Lara opened her mouth, but a commotion nearby cut her off before she could speak. Both women turned towards the gathering crowd, hands on their weapons.

The telltale roar of a cheetah echoed, Kassandra reacted quickly, running and pushing people aside, Lara following behind her.

"I'm sorry!" a man was on the ground, sprawled on broken planks of wood. "I-I didn't mean to, I'm sorry!" he scrambled backwards, eyeing the snarling cheetah stalking towards him.

It was Kassandra's, alright. She would recognize his crooked tail anywhere.

"Call it back!" the man pleaded, his teary eyes flickering between the hissing animal and the cloaked figure behind it. "I won't do it again, I promise! I promise, please don't let it eat me!"

Masked and chained. That was definitely Lara's... friend. With Kassandra's cheetah. She watched in wonder as the cloaked woman grabbed the man, dragging him by his chiton towards a small gathering of kids. She threw him to the ground, kicked him in the back to force him down before gesturing back and forth with brusque movements.

He nodded, shaking like a leaf as he undid the ties of his pouch before throwing it at the foot of a distraught teenager with torn-off clothes.

Kassandra gasped, realizing who it was. "Phoibe?" she walked to her, not hearing Lara telling her to wait. "Phoibe!" she called.

The other woman turned around, tensing. She dodged Kassandra's hand in a blink, jumping to stand a few feet away.

"What happened?" she growled. Her frustration rose when she received no answer. "Talk!"

The man lifted his head, trying to speak through the blubbering mess of tears and snot, wailing and curling into himself when Lara's sla—friend kicked him back to the ground.

Phoibe threw herself in Kassandra's arms, body rocking with tremors. She hissed when Kassandra's hand brushed her shoulder blades. The woman frowned, fingers coming out bloody.

She crouched, taking Phoibe's tear streaked face in her palm. "Turn around," her voice was soft as she guided her. "Show me."

Lara gasped behind them. She could count four gashes, one of them deep enough to keep bleeding. Her hand rose up, coming close to Phoibe's scarred back but not touching it.

Kassandra's jaw clenched with rage.

Flogged like an animal...

"What happened," she turned her head, eyes burning a deep amber as they flickered between the man knocked out cold on the ground and Lara's stoic friend.

The woman stood idle, not uttering a word, and the fire pit of anger boiled even livelier inside Kassandra. "What. Happened," she shot to her feet, approaching the slave when it became obvious she wouldn't get any information by asking nicely. "Why is Phoibe like this?" another step forward. She was close enough to see the speck of amber doting the woman's eyes behind her mask.

Still no answer.

"Back off," Lara inserted herself between them, forcing her to stand a few steps away. "Kassandra, step back. Right now," she glared.

Kassandra's nostrils flared, her eyes boring a scorching hole between Lara and her slave. "Talk to her," she ordered, waving her hand briskly. "Ask her what happened!"

Despite their height difference and bulk, the young woman's glower could have made her pause, had she not been so enraged. Lara turned her head, mumbling something Kassandra couldn't understand. The slave nodded, walking back a few steps.

Oh, no you're not leaving...

"That maláka isn't going anywhere until I get answers!" she hollered, trying to bypass Lara to get to her, but the other woman kept standing in the way to shove her backwards.

"Kassandra, stop!" Phoibe shrieked, halting her third attempt to slither past Lara. "She helped me," the teen stood between them, tugging on Kassandra's chiton and pulling her away with her lithe arms. "She helped me!"

Phoibe turned to Lara and her slave, then back at Kassandra's frozen form. "He said I stole from him, it's not true," she shook her head. "I didn't steal anything, I swear! But he didn't listen," her small shoulders started to shake, "And he…" Phoibe closed her eyes, breathing shakily. "It hurt."

Kassandra lowered herself to the ground, inching closer to wrap her in a comforting hug.

"She took the last one," Phoibe continued in the crook of her neck. "And she beat him with the whip," tears were still falling down her cheeks. "She saved me, Kassandra. She did."

The woman nodded, swallowing back the lump in her throat. She should have been there, she should have. Chancing a look behind them, Kassandra noticed the man was still unconscious and glared, gritting her teeth; fingers itching to bash his head into a pulp. Pulling away, she took the time to observe Phoibe's disheveled appearance, removing the strands of hair that obscured her vision. "I told you to stay out of trouble," her voice broke as she thumbed the girl's tears away, her own eyes brimming. "Why don't you ever listen to me?"

Phoibe broke down, weeping and burrowing her little frame in Kassandra's arms. She blinked the blurriness away and looked up to see Lara standing near her slave, a few meters away. It was innocuous enough, yet Kassandra noticed it right away; the tension underneath that cloak, radiating from her like thunderbolts. The pull, as if she wanted to move, to come closer, but Lara was holding her hand in a vice grip and refusing to let go.

"Thank you," Kassandra mouthed at them, receiving a nod from Lara and nothing from the other. Dropping a kiss on Phoibe's hair, she said, "Let's bring you to Hippokrates."

The teen sniffled. "But Aspasia…"

"Fuck Aspasia," Kassandra growled, anger boiling anew. "She shouldn't send you alone at night to run her errands."

She shouldn't have sent her, period. Kassandra was going to have a few words with her later.

Something seemed to pass between Lara and her friend at those words. From the corner of her eye, Kassandra could see them sharing a look, before the cloaked woman tilted her head, pointing back at them.

"Are you sure?" she heard Lara say. Her slave nodded, letting go of her hand. "And your arm..."

Kassandra couldn't understand a word, but it was the genuine worry on Lara's person that made her pause. This wasn't how masters usually talked to their slaves… or even friends.

"Will you be okay?" Lara's hand travelled to the open gash left by the whip that had torn the cloak's sleeve. Kassandra saw the slave nod again, leaning over her ear to whisper a few words, but she was too far away to hear them.

"Alright," she heard then, and whatever that meant it seemed to placate Lara enough to allow the other woman to walk away on her own and disappear in a narrow alley.

Kassandra let out a shuddering breath, rising to her feet slowly. "Can you walk?" she asked Phoibe, and Lara joined them.

The girl sniffled again, giving her a weak shake. The cheetah nudged at her arm, forcing his head under her pit to lick at her face. A wet laugh-sob spilled out of her mouth. "It tickles!"

The animal purred softly, letting Phoibe hold onto his fur for support. Kassandra's heart squeezed with sorrow when she saw her wince with the effort it took her to stand up. Hazel eyes flickered to Lara.

"I'll take your weapons," the woman offered, walking closer to them.

Kassandra's eyes shined in gratitude, she nodded, taking off her bow, sword, and spear before wrapping them securely in their leather and giving everything to Lara. "Thank you."

She crouched again, turning around. "Come on up."

It would put less stress on the girl's back.

Small arms circled her neck as Phoibe settled on her. Kassandra secured her legs, locking both hands underneath the teenager before she rose up again and walked outside of the agora, Phoibe on her back and Lara by her side.


Well, ouch. This isn't where I envisioned this chapter to end but it was getting way too long. EagleBearer!Kass and Lara's pseudo-date was one of my favorite parts to write. I hope you enjoyed just as much as I did :)

Just a thing: Aspasia and Perikles' son didn't die an infant. He was executed in 406, about five to six years before her alleged death. So, he was an adult. Had to kill him earlier here, woops.

I know some people ship Aspasia and Kassandra together, so my portrayal of her might clash with the general consensus, I'm sorry. I might have taken it literally when the game says the Ghost is a liar, and if you read the letters she sends the Sages, they're all a variation of the same thing, she promises them all power if they betray their own. Whether her intention was to lure them and buy more time for Kassandra to eradicate the cult, or stemming from something more selfish, I made my choice. Sorry.

Myrrine's relationship with Kassandra always struck me as odd. There's obviously a lot of things left unsaid between them. Myrrine implying she's moved on from her life (in order to survive) and therefore doesn't know how to be a mother to Kass on Naxos is one of the most heartbreaking things to happen in the game. With Phoibe's death.

I know Kass gets a flaming horse - and I'm sad you can't set people on fire when they're near you, what a missed opportunity - when you get on top of the mercenary foodchain, but it was hard to explain from a realistic perspective. So, that's why skinny Phobos gets extra buff here.

And yes Lara's name is derived from Ra the Sun God, it's canon from the Blood Ties DLC in Rise. There are letters of her father gushing about how she was conceived in Egypt. Lara is also the name of a nymph in Roman mythology, known for her beauty and inability to keep secrets, which.. well it describes Lara perfectly, too!

We'll be staying in Athens for a few chapters.