Little trigger warning for mention of violence here and there.
Vocab:
Athánatos means immortal or more accurately 'without death'
Apátē is the personification of deceit in Greek Mythology
Métoikos means metic, aka noncitizens
Pteryges is the defensive skirt warrior used to wear in Ancient Greece
Eye of the Beholder
by Hazel Liebovsky
Chapitre Vingt
Aspasia arrived before the foreigner - Lara - and Kassandra did, and watched from where she couldn't be seen. The rooftop was steeped in darkness, contrasting with the candlelight path leading to the house Alkibiades had insisted on holding the symposium at. An extravagant and ostensibly large property, with enough rooms and dark spots to worship Eros out of sight, if one was inclined.
From where she stood inconspicuously leaned against the railing, Aspasia saw Lara crossing the street while taking in her surroundings - eyes starry and full of wonder. Kassandra was waiting for her by Chloris' garden on the other side. Aspasia caught it right away: Kassandra's uncharacteristic shuffling, the awkwardness and nervous tension that seeped through her voice when she complimented the other woman; speaking too fast, smiling so big. She had only seen her smile like that with Phoibe.
Who are you?
The athánatos' guardian, perhaps? Her holder? A keeper? If Lara knew of Kassandra's potential, why wasn't she saying anything? Why was she acting like she didn't know her at all?
Aspasia stalked down the stairs, bowing to Aristophanes when he handed her a cup of wine. "Sokrates and Polus have been at it for hours already," he rolled his eyes, his arm drawing a wide arc towards the biggest room before he tilted his head, eyeing the woman curiously. "Sokrates argues that rhetoric is a fluke. Would you believe?"
Of course, he was, but Aspasia didn't have time for that now.
She gave him a slow nod, watching the man behind the rim of her drink. "I'm afraid Sokrates likes but the sound of his own voice," she should know, she had trained him, after all. "Perhaps the fluke he speaks of is himself?"
A mischievous smirk tugged at her lips at Aristophanes' apparent discomfort. This was exactly what she needed to get him off of her; dry enough to sting, with just the right touch of breezy nonchalance to make it sound like a harmless joke.
He cleared his throat, letting out a nervous laugh. "You will never cease to amaze me, Aspasia."
She gave him a coy smile, bowing her head again before she left, catching a glimpse of Kassandra and Lara as they entered the house. Shadowed by one of the imposing columns and surrounded by boisterous men arguing about the absolute outrage of accrediting citizenship to second-generation Athenian males, Aspasia watched them for an hour from the corner of her eye, half-heartedly entertaining a conversation with Hippokrates; rumors about the blood fever hitting Attika's northern border had been spreading, as of late.
Lara obliviously charming her way through the audience with Kassandra by her side was… intriguing, to say the least. Her choice of garments drew a few leering stares. More surprisingly, it was Kassandra's fleeting but dangerous glowering that peaked Aspasia's interest. Weak-minded as they were, the men were quick to scurry away when they met the Eagle Bearer's stoic face and scalding glare.
Who is she to you…?
Kassandra hadn't seemed to know much about the foreigner when she'd asked her. The Eagle Bearer was a good liar, but Aspasia's favorite mistress had always been Apátē; Kassandra had told the truth.
"How do you like my new guest?" the melodious lilt took Aspasia out of her observations. She smiled again, meeting Alkibiades' sparkling eyes, his gaze as incandescently scorching as ever. "I must say I haven't been able to take my eyes off of her either..." he trailed off, lips tugging upwards. "Quite the beauty, isn't she?"
Aspasia bowed her head, lifting her cup to clink his. She had been made, there was no point in lying. "Ravishing."
His smile grew, playfully quaint at the edges. "Kassandra seems to think so too," he hummed in that way Aspasia knew all too well. He was hiding something.
"Kassandra likes pretty things," she conceded, chancing a look at the two women.
Alkibiades scrunched his nose, there was caution in his eyes when they met Aspasia's. "Maybe," he said, drawing the word out and trailing a finger along her arm. "Or, maybe something is different here, don't you think?"
Her blood ran cold. "Oh?" she knew he was studying her face carefully, to see if he'd struck a nerve.
Alkibiades wasn't part of Kosmos, his wavering loyalty was too fragile to be secured. He would have, otherwise, made a very competent sage. He had the contacts, and the eloquence, and the looks. Maybe in another life, he would have been the Ghost.
Finding nothing of interest on her blank features, the man shrugged. "Maybe it is time for the eagle to nest," his laugh came out loud, but not like the grating guffaws that filled the symposium - his was just as inviting as the rest of him.
Aspasia laughed too, at the absurdity of his statement. Kassandra's destiny was greater than becoming someone's wife, greater than this meaningless war between red and blue. "Maybe," she chanced another look at the women. Herodotos, the ever-loyal travelling companion, was talking with them.
Lara's face was flushed, holding the cup in a vice grip that had turned her knuckles white. Aspasia couldn't hear them above the music and droning conversations, but she didn't need to. The foreigner's expression was stranded between admiration and a tinge of embarrassment.
Lara seemed on the verge of collapse when he smiled and patted her shoulder.
Interesting…
"I was going to ask Kassandra if she wanted to share," Alkibiades' voice drew her out again. "But it looks like I'll need to find another… distraction," his lips pursed. The pout and his raised eyebrow would have melted any gullible maiden's heart.
Aspasia smirked. "The symposium is yours to do as you please," she took a sip, leaving the silence to speak for her.
Not tonight.
Tonight, Aspasia would stand vigil and watch.
Without Kassandra to call her out, Lara was gawking at her heart's content. After grilling Herodotos on his travels and sharing a drink with Sokrates (of all people!), her overexcited brain had finally winded off, begging for a much-needed timeout and forcing the archeologist to find a quiet place outside to recuperate.
It took some trial and errors - fast-walking with her head down, as she gingerly navigated around a tangled mess of naked bodies rutting on top of each other - before Lara finally spotted what appeared to be an empty room with a balcony.
She took a deep breath, finding solace in the relative quiet and light breeze caressing her skin. The symposium had dulled to a low rumble in her ears, easier to ignore – especially with a view like that in front of her. Athens was glowing blue, white and bronze, statues casting shadows over houses and buildings, people looking like small colorful ants walking in the streets.
"Damn…" she muttered, wishing she had brought her journal to sketch. Her eyes lingered on the inn she could see from the balcony. "I really hope you're not doing anything stupid," she said in English, squinting at the small roof plunged in the dark. "Please don't do anything stupid."
"Glad to see I'm not the only one."
Her shoulders stiffened for a second. For God's sake, Kassandra really needed to stop doing this to her! Both of them. Tearing her gaze away from the city, she turned her head just as the other woman stepped up beside her. "The only one?" she switched back to Greek.
"To talk to myself," Kassandra smiled down at the archeologist. "I talk to Ikaros, mostly. But sometimes…" she bit her lip, a bit sheepish. "Sometimes it's just me."
Lara hummed, turning back to face the city. "I know that feeling."
Growing up alone – pampered, but alone – with no one her own age had forced Lara to find other ways: log every single event like it was a great adventure, akin to the tales Richard used to fill her head with, before bed. The vast gardens of the Manor became her own uncharted island; trees turned into unscaled mountains; cabins into dangerous caves where monsters thrived, jealously guarding their treasure.
(Jaffa cakes).
Her imagination had run far and wild, a shell to protect herself from Richard's oblivious neglect. From the heartache of forgetting what Amelia's laugh sounded like, to her face blurring and washing away with time. Fading like her smell in Lara's nostrils, to become a lingering memory the woman kept chasing like a mirage.
"It's a habit," she continued, steering away from the melancholy threatening to overcome her. Lara's fingers scratched at the vase in her hand, like she would a beer bottle. "Hard to shake off."
Kassandra nodded silently.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disappear like that. I just needed some air."
"I understand," Kassandra said, flashing her a sympathetic smile. "Do you want me to leave you alone?"
Lara shook her head quickly, realizing what she'd implied. "No, I didn't mean—not you," she raised a hand, waving it around in the air with increased panic. "It's alright! You can stay."
Kassandra observed her for a long while and crossed her arms. Her eyebrows quirked. She chuckled, visibly amused by her frantic motions. "Okay, Lara."
That came out completely wrong, the archeologist realized and deflated. She hunched over herself looking down at her drink. "I am not a people person, you've probably guessed by now."
Socializing had never been her forte – books didn't need to be talked to, convinced or entertained. Sam was the butterfly, floating breezily from person to person. She had taken Lara under her wing in boarding school. Thrust into the unknown, Lara always had Sam as a safety net to fall back on, her reassuring presence had given the younger her enough confidence to break out of her shell. But Sam wasn't here to help now, and if anything, the symposium had just confronted Lara with the fact that she may have killed an undead Queen and likely prevented three apocalypses of varying degree in the span of a couple of years, but she was still just as socially awkward as her teenage self. Painfully so.
Kassandra let out a surprised noise, uncrossing her arms to gesture behind them. "You were doing well over there."
Lara's laugh was wry, she took a long sip of wine, savoring the tangy sweet aroma. Athenian wines were definitely more sugary than what she was used to – easier on her taste buds. Were the grapes harvested later in the year? She shook her head, now wasn't the time to get lost in the ancient history of wine-making and oenology.
"Only for a while and here I am now," she took another sip. "Putting my foot in my mouth."
Kassandra's eyebrows knitted in confusion. Lara saw her mull over the words for several seconds, leaning back slowly to observe the ends of her dress before she spoke. "Your foot in… what? Why would you do that?"
The archeologist blinked a few times, wondering if the wine had dulled her senses to the point of spurting English at random, or if she had mistranslated the words in her head.
Oh.
It hit her then. Modern idiom. Kassandra had never heard of it and probably took it literally. Lara dissolved in laughter, spurred by the wine coursing in her veins; what a terrible mental image. No wonder Kassandra was looking at her like she'd grown a second head.
"I'm sorry," still cackling, the archeologist was forced to put the vase on the parapet not to spill it over herself.
It took a full minute for Lara to gather her bearings again. She blew through her cheeks, glancing up at Kassandra's puzzled face with sparkling eyes. "It's an image, where I'm from it means saying something embarrassing..." she trailed off. "Like I just did. Perfect example, really," she chuckled to herself.
"Ah," Kassandra nodded slowly, the crease between her eyebrows smoothing out. "I see," she tapped her chin and squinted at her. "Your customs are odd," she decided.
Lara gave her a small smile. "You don't know half of it."
Kassandra's lips quirked, her eyes crinkling at the edges. "You should teach me, then," her genuine interest and the lack of a double entendre in her statement were a bit surprising to Lara. Even more so, it looked like Kassandra wanted to add something else but refrained at the last moment.
The archeologist didn't press on, happy to turn and face the city again when the conversation ended.
"Me neither," she heard Kassandra say after a while. Lara tilted her head, looking at the woman's profile. "I'm not a…" she leaned over the edge, standing on her toes to peer down at the cliff below the balcony. "What was it you said? People person?"
Lara nodded and snorted at the same time. Somehow, she had a really hard time believing that. Kassandra's social skills were through the roof, she had weaved her way through the symposium like she'd arranged it, shooting charming smiles and making jokes while easing Lara into the crowd slowly.
"You're kidding," she scoffed.
"It's true," the woman shook her head, shifting to face her. "I grew up talking to a bird. How's that for a people person?"
"You have a lot of friends," Lara pointed out. "And I just saw you during the symposium."
"I can pretend," Kassandra's smile was a bit timid, nervous at the prospect of revealing things. "Like I do many other things. Fake it until you think it."
"Why would you do that?"
The blunt question threw Kassandra off. She gazed up at the sky, and took a deep breath. "Because people expect it from me, I guess?" when they met again, her eyes were swirling with uncertainty. "Kassandra the Eagle Bearer," her smile was rueful, stretched to the point that it looked stiff. "Who would choose the little girl who grew up on an island in the middle of nowhere? I give them what they want to see. Even my own pater is—"
Kassandra blinked once, twice, three times, the implication of what she was saying slowly creeping up on her. "I don't even know why I am telling you this," the woman sighed to herself, disgruntled. "Why am I telling you this?" she asked very seriously.
"Uh…" Lara felt something within her hiccup, she gave Kassandra a slow shrug and pointed at the vase nearby. "Maybe it's the wine?" it was a weak joke, if that, but it still managed to make her smile a little, to Lara's relief.
A comfortable silence settled between them, both women facing the city again. Lara was starting to feel light-headed, the rush of alcohol finally seeping into her system. Sneaky Athenian wine had crept on her without warning, she made a mental note to be more careful next time.
"There's something I've wanted to ask you," Kassandra began, still looking at the horizon.
Lara turned her head, staring at her profile again. "Yes?"
The woman was still looking away. "When we... when we fought in Phokis," Kassandra met her eyes. "You could have killed me," she wet her lips, watching the archeologist. "But you didn't."
Lara could only nod, her gut churning in apprehension when she realized where the conversation was going.
"You stopped," Kassandra continued, not noticing the slight tremble in her archeologist's hands. "Your knife was at my throat and you stopped," her gaze flickered away, at the vase. "Your eyes, they… they changed," she blinked, refocusing her attention on Lara. "You looked at me like you knew me."
Lara's throat constricted around the words, she bit the inside of her lip, willing her heart to stop thumping so loudly in her ribcage. Kassandra was gauging her, watching her, studying her face with the kind of intensity that made her guts twist and her skin break out in goosebumps.
Lara swallowed, and steeled herself. She would have to choose her words with caution, weigh her options quickly, before the silence stretched into awkward territory. In her quest for answers, Kassandra unknowingly cornered her. If the archeologist lied, she would see right through it.
Her decision made, Lara took a deep breath before speaking:
"I've killed many times," she began, eyes clouded; the cries of the Solarii still fresh in her memory, their blood on her hands; vivid like Trinity's soldiers, like Konstantin whom she had left to burn alive - his taunting falling on ears only eager to hear him scream. "Out of anger. Because I was being hunted. They killed my friends, my family."
Richard, Unuratu, Roth, Alex, Grim… she'd lost so many.
"I convinced myself I didn't have a choice. It was me or them," she swallowed again, forcing the words out and looking Kassandra in the eye as she went on:
"Part of it was true…" Vladimir with his hands at her throat, squeezing, looming over her in the night; Lara aiming and pulling the trigger, again and again; his choking gasps and wet hiccups when he tried reaching for her, half of his head blasted away by the gunshot. This, she would never forget. Her eyes flickered away from Kassandra's intense gaze to focus on the vase of wine.
"But I also wanted to make them pay. I became obsessed with it," she'd been fueled by rage alone for two years between Yamatai and Peru. "I chose to kill them, I chose to hunt the people who had hurt me, and I killed them."
The darkness in her had grown, rising like stifling black smoke. Pungent and thick. It had protected her all those years, put a shield over her pliant heart, honed her muscles to learn new gymnastics, taught her fingers to grab, and squeeze and choke, her hands to stab and break and punch.
"I killed even when they ran away, even when they asked me for forgiveness."
Kassandra was still watching her, listening with rapt attention. The archeologist knew then, that her words had found an echo in the other woman. Her older self had briefly spoken of her struggles when they were on Anaphi. She'd told Lara about the chase that had sent her across all of Greece and robbed a decade out of her life. Of her desire to pursue the ones who had destroyed her brother's life before it could begin. Of revenge for stolen years.
Different faces of the same coin. Different reasons, but the same outcome.
"I lost myself in this…" Lara trailed off, rendered mute by the images of the tsunami in Cozumel flashing before her eyes.
Water in her nostrils, the currents ripping at her as she kept swimming with her heart in her throat, doing her best to ignore the drowned corpses that swirled around her. The little boy dangling from the roof, crying for help at the top of his lungs. She'd been so close, hauling herself up the collapsing church as fast as her overexerted limbs would allow, but it hadn't been enough.
So close…
After taking a deep breath, she tried to speak again. "Innocent people died. They died because I let it consume me," she shook her head, noticing a glimmer of sympathy in Kassandra's eyes.
Lara wasn't telling her to gain pity. Words, however comforting, were meaningless; they would never fill the hole in her heart, or alleviate her guilt. Cozumel had been entirely her fault because her fixation with stopping Trinity had given her tunnel vision marred with crimson.
She took another breath, the tension in her shoulders ebbing away ever so slowly. "Until someone told me I couldn't stay angry all the time. He told me I had a choice. That I still had people… friends who were alive, who cared and were worried about me."
The thought of Jonah brought a smile to her face. It took almost losing him three times for Lara to finally understand. Rourke's words struck deep in her heart, even after all these years:
"Now, you can add Jonah to the people you've gotten killed."
Surrounded by the ruins of her own self-absorbed mind in that shambled oil plant, Lara had broken down, tears mingling with blood and mud. She wept in Jonah's embrace, clutching at his shirt, realizing how close she had come to losing him to her deadly obsession.
"It took a while to…" Lara cleared her throat with a small noise. "To let go."
"Not everything is about you! These people need our help!" Jonah had yelled back when she'd started lamenting about Trinity and Dominguez, fingers clasped around his wrist to drag him away from the chopper.
As painful as it had been to hear those words following the catastrophe which had killed so many in Cozumel, as rashly as he'd spoken them, he'd spoken the truth. A truth that had hit deep within the archeologist, forced her to take a look at herself, at the twisted shadow she'd metamorphosed into ever since finding that first GPS cache on Yamatai.
When all was said and done - when nothing remained but the dull aches of her scarred mind, and bruises marring her skin - Lara had made a promise to Jonah, and she had done her best to keep it.
To live. For herself.
Lara had rebuilt her life; patching things up with Sam, reclaiming her inheritance and moving back to the Manor. Small steps, each one bringing her closer to her new normal even if she'd never be rid of the darkness. It was as much a part of her as everything else, but at least she could make peace with what had happened, and try to move on.
Some days were harder than others, even here with so many things to distract her mind. Some nights had seen Lara wake up in cold sweat, forehead gleaming and blood pulsing in her veins. Kassandra whispering in her ears, soothing and encouraging the young woman to breathe slowly until the terror passed.
Nightmares were a small price to pay for having most of her life back, she mused.
After another exhale, she looked up, meeting Kassandra's gaze. "When we were on that cliff, I thought my friend had died," it was still hard to talk about it. Kassandra had died and Lara wouldn't be able to shake that image from her mind. "I thought she had died, that you killed her, and I fell back on anger because it was familiar."
The other woman nodded.
"And I was going to kill you," she said. "But, I… I remembered I had a choice…" Lara bit her lip. "I remembered that I wasn't that person anymore. The one who killed because she was angry." That was as close to the truth as she was going to venture
Something passed in Kassandra's eyes, her jaw clenched for the barest of seconds, before she relaxed. "You are very strong-willed."
Lara puffed. If it hadn't been for Jonah snapping her out of it, she would still be stuck there. Trinity was gone but their ideology remained; it would only be a matter of time before someone else took over - another Dominguez, another Konstantin - someone even more ruthless, someone who believed in the necessity of extreme methods for the greater good.
"I don't think I would have..." Kassandra said, flicking her wrist in a circular motion. "I don't think I can let go," she blinked a few times. "That anger—"
"Is comforting," Lara finished for her, nodding along.
Kassandra was surprised by how easy it was to admit it. "Yes," she scratched her cheek - a sign Lara had learned to acknowledge as nervousness. "It's…" her eyebrows knitted in a frown. "It's keeping me going," she said in a small voice. "Without it I'm—"
"You," the archeologist cut her off softly. She stepped forward, her arm rising in the air before freezing when she realized what she was doing. Lara let it fall to her side. "And it's enough," she said with a resolute nod. "You are enough."
Kassandra's throat bobbed, breath hitching. Her eyes softened, a cluster of emotions shimmering within, too messy for Lara to comprehend. She gave her another long look.
"Who are you, really?" Kassandra murmured, so quietly that Lara wouldn't have caught it if it weren't for their proximity.
The archeologist took a step back, allowing herself to breathe more easily. She gave a wry smile and shrugged. "Just a foreigner."
Kassandra kept staring at her with that strange twinkle in her eyes. She smiled eventually, tearing her gaze away and shaking her head. Sighed and leaned over the railing again, observing the city in silence.
"Would you be interested in joining my crew?" she blurted then, glancing at Lara from the corner of her eye.
The proposition was so sudden that it left the younger woman speechless for a few seconds, looking like a deer in headlights. "Uh?" her heart skipped a few beats. Was she serious?
"I mean with your friend," Kassandra added hastily, her voice rising in a nervous laugh at Lara's prolonged silence. "You are both very strong warriors. I would rather we didn't find ourselves on opposite sides again."
"Oh," Lara said and snorted – that made sense. "Right."
"Besides," Kassandra went on, eyes lighting up. "I'm sure Herodotos would appreciate having someone like you on board."
Lara's heart made another backflip in her ribcage. It was still hard to believe she had met Herodotos in the flesh. Words had trudged out of her mouth like a pile of marbles when he had introduced himself. 'A mere traveler of the world', the man had humbly called himself, when he'd patted her shoulder with a small chuckle.
Bollocks, she'd thought, Herodotos was a legend.
He had been so nice, eyes shining with interest, happily obliging as Lara shot question after question at him, ranging from his Persian travels to the tribes he'd met around the Mediterranean Sea. Words stumbling out like rapid fire, though she had retained enough self-control to sound deceptively unaffected – if a bit awkward – and keep her cheeks from flaring too much. He had been Lara's idol since she was a little girl, and she'd met him!
"Tempting," the archeologist nodded with a genuine smile, before letting out a sigh. "But we can't."
They needed to stay a few steps ahead of Kassandra to help her find more clues about the Cult. That would be impossible if they came on board.
Worst of all, it would be too dangerous to have both of them in the same vicinity for prolonged periods of time. Kassandra had managed to avoid her younger self and shown incredible self-control when confronted directly, but her luck would to run out eventually. In a small, enclosed space, all it would take was a shoulder bump, or one strong wave to pitch the ship and make them tumble into each other, for her to die again. Lara wouldn't risk that. Not even for Herodotos.
Kassandra hummed, pinching her lips together. She was disappointed and didn't try to hide it. "The offer still stands if you change your mind?" she flashed her a lopsided grin.
Lara returned it but shook her head. There was no point in making her hope. "Thank you, but I don't think I will."
"You're impossibly stubborn."
"Like a Spartan, I've been told."
Kassandra dissolved into surprised laughter, loud and boisterous, shifting her body around to face Lara. "Whoever told you that—was right."
You did.
Lara was grinning wide. "They were."
"So much for using a new recruiting method," Kassandra lamented with a dramatic sigh, head hanging low, her fingers sweeping a few errand strands back in place.
"What's your usual method?" Lara asked, puzzlement written across her features.
Kassandra's face broke into a huge smile when she looked back at her. "I knock them out and kidnap them."
She said it so breezily that the only thing Lara could do was to give her a long, suspicious look. "It's a joke, right? You're joking. You must be joking," the archeologist said. "Are you joking?"
The woman let out another loud belly laugh, one that rose above the buildings and made her whole body shake with it. Her eyebrow quirked. "Maybe," A mischievous smirk tugged at her lips a second later, "Or maybe not."
Lara spluttered and choked halfway through the relieved sigh she was letting out.
Trudging through mud and the soiled waters of lower Athens' sewer systems had left Kassandra completely drenched and in dire need of a bath.
She had left Phoibe after awkwardly tucking her in bed once the girl had started yawning, leaving the pouch of small bones by her side and the cheetah curled at her feet.
Kassandra had fully intended to go back to the inn to sleep as well, but shadows with gleaming silver gliding into the streets had drawn her attention. She had used her vantage point on the rooftops to follow them discreetly, using the night to cover her tracks.
They hadn't gone to the Cultist fort in the southern part of Attika outside the fortified walls, like she'd expected. Kassandra had tailed them all the way to the public baths at the center of Athens near the agora, then followed them as they headed to the source of the stream that served the city's water system.
She'd smelt it before she'd seen it; the foul, pungent revolting whiff of rotten meat was powerful enough to make her gag behind her mask. Kassandra had perched on a tree, following the two patrols with her eyes as they walked downstream until they reached a dark pile flanked by more Cultists.
Corpses… Pigs.
Her blood ran hot with anger when she'd connected the dots, coming to the bleak realization of what she was witnessing; the malákes were going to provoke a sanitary crisis in the vilest way. Kassandra had bitten her lip until she drew blood to reign in the instinct that was screaming at her to go down there and add those men to that pile of death.
"The chaos in Athens I had no knowledge of…" Aspasia's words had rung in her ears; if only she hadn't believed her.
"Did you secure the agora?" she'd heard a man say. He'd been standing by the stream, away from the mountain of dead animals, holding a cloth to his nose.
"Yes," another guard had replied. "We followed Kleon's orders. Lower Athens first."
Where the poor lived. The métoikos, freshly freed slaves, woodworkers and foreign laborers. They were going to poison the drinkable water and let proximity do the rest.
Kassandra had listened as they laid out their plan, watching carefully when they started flinging the corpses down the steam. She held on to the trunk, her knuckles turning white with barely checked rage, forced to look and stay still before sneaking back the way she'd come.
Against her better judgment - against the alarms blaring in her head, screaming at her about future consequences - Kassandra had blocked the water stream in front of the fortified walls and made her way to lower Athens to clog all the outflows of water coming from it. It wouldn't prevent the inevitable, but it would buy the city some time.
She would tell Lara about it tomorrow, and together they'd come up with a plan. By her calculations they had a week, maybe a few more days, to put something in motion before the city fell and Deimos arrived.
Filled with apprehension, her heart thumped loudly at the thought of seeing him again.
When did I go wrong?
The question, a constant lingering in her head, keeping her awake on so many nights for thousands of years. When had the balance tipped in favor of the Cult? Kassandra refused to believe Alexios had been lost from the beginning.
No...
She must have said something, done something, unknowingly sealing his fate and allegiance to Kosmos. She knew… she knew she had touched him, underneath that anger, underneath the ire storming in his eyes. Kassandra had seen it – the cry for help, she had seen Alexios fighting against his demons, crawling ever so slowly, his hand towards her.
Kassandra thought she had reached him when she had let herself be taken and imprisoned by the Cult. The ploy had worked – he'd thought he had her where he wanted her. While they talked, Deimos had sneered and snarled at her, but she had seen it; the flicker of hesitation, doubts shimmering in his eyes the more answers she gave to his pointed questions. She had seen it in the way the curl of his lips smoothed, and his brow creased, not in anger, but in confusion.
"Why would I lie to you, Alexios?" was the only question she had dared to ask.
Kassandra had hoped it was enough, and given just a few more minutes, she knew she could have convinced him. Kleon's ill-timed intervention had reduced her efforts to ash.
Kleon... if anything, she would go to Amphipolis again just to watch him drown in that puddle. Hades as her witness, she would even clap.
Kassandra closed her eyes and shook her head, forcing her thoughts out. Now wasn't the time to fuel the simmering fire that was her rage. She had to think of Alexios. They hadn't spoken in Athens, except his injunction for her to stay out of his way as he wreaked havoc in the city after killing Perikles.
That wasn't the tipping point. She still had time to save him. Hopefully.
Her hand dipped into the water, testing the temperature of the makeshift bathtub she had assembled on the roof. The small thing barely fit her frame if she wasn't sitting with her knees close to her chest, but it was still something. Kassandra took another dry log and threw it in the furnace under the tub to heat it up. A few more minutes and it would be ready. She shrugged out of the pteryges, leaving the garbs of armor in a pile nearby. The wet chiton clung uncomfortably to her skin, Kassandra peeled it off with a grimace and sank down in the water.
Her mouth opened, a low groan at the back of her throat. Her aching muscles welcomed the reprieve as she leaned her head against the edge to watch the dotted night sky, feeling the tension in her body ebb away with each ripple of the water. It felt good to stop running for a moment.
Her eyes closed, ears listening to the city's white noise. Kassandra drifted off, lulled by the music and hushed conversations mingling to a low, indistinguishable hum above the city.
Something tugged at her mind. A gentle, almost timid poke that brought her back from slumber. Kassandra cracked one eye open just in time to see a dark shadow soar through the night and glide towards her.
Ikaros' talons wrapped on the edge of the tub with a soft clink. His wings fluttered urgently until he found his balance and stilled.
Kassandra's breath caught in her throat, lodging there with her heart. "You shouldn't be—" she croaked, but he cut her off with a shriek and more brisk flapping.
"Ikaros," Kassandra tried again, softer, heart thumping loud in her chest when she realized she hadn't said his name in so long. "This is dangerous, you know it. What if she—ow!"
The sharp pinch of his beak hadn't been missed. The eagle plucked at her arm again for good measure before standing tall and ruffling the feathers on his chest.
"You're impossible," Kassandra chastised, rubbing at her arm. He hadn't drawn blood, but still. "Do it again and I will shove you in the bath with me," he opened his beak in affront, lifting one foot in slow motion, needle-sharp talons at the ready.
Kassandra narrowed her eyes at him.
"Try me," she grumbled. Kassandra's palm rose in the air, long fingers stretched like a web looming over him, droplets tickling down on the bird.
He glared, shoving all kinds of negative energy through their shared bond. After a full minute of stillness, Ikaros lowered his foot.
Kassandra did the same, a grin spreading on her lips. "Good boy." his indignant squawk made her laugh out loud.
"Don't be upset," she cooed, bringing her hand ever slowly. When he didn't try to peck at her fingers, Kassandra scratched the crown of his head. "I missed you, friend."
Ikaros remained impassive, but she felt a surge of warmth tugging at the threads of her mind.
Kassandra let her hand fall back into the tub. "No one replaced you, you know," she turned her head, Ikaros eyeing her curiously. "I could never," the woman mumbled, her gaze drifting towards the city again.
Kassandra remembered it like it was yesterday. That afternoon on Hydrea, forty-odd years after being thrown off Mount Taygetos. The sun had been bright, no clouds on the horizon, which was how she'd noticed it.
Ikaros gliding in the sky, not as graceful as he once was. Flapping tiredly against the wind, rather than soaring above it. The landing had been a bit rougher than usual, where he should have touched the ground with small hops, light on his feet. The fluttering of his wings had barely cushioned his arrival and almost sent him crashing into Kassandra's leg.
One look had been enough, his remaining eye as keen and bright as always. He'd climbed onto her thighs, settling there as if to take a nap. Kassandra had let him. Humming Myrrine's lullaby with tears streaming down her cheeks, she hadn't moved an eyelid until Selene chased Helios and the wind picked up, raising goosebumps on her arms. As cold as his limp body nestled in her lap.
Kassandra blinked back to the present, eyes clouded. She smiled at Ikaros, feeling his gentle probing in her head. "I'm fine."
Ikaros let out a small chirp before flapping his wings again and settling on her shoulder, carefully positioning his talons so he wouldn't break the skin. He cooed, low in her ear, bringing another smile to her lips.
"I love you, too."
-0-
After the fourth thorough scrub had left her skin red and raw, and the water clear instead of diluted grey, Kassandra decided it was enough. Oiled and squeaky clean, arguing (alone) about the risks of the Eagle Bearer trying to locate him and finding her, the woman managed to shoo a disgruntled Ikaros out.
Damp with the remaining oil, Kassandra decided to lie down on the roof and let the breeze of the night dry her skin. She watched the stars again, leaving her mind to wander back to Phoibe soundly asleep in Hippokrates' home, Phoibe who would soon be back in the snake's lair - unknowingly risking her life, her days numbered. To Alexios again, guilt sinking into her chest. To Deimos, looming nearby, hungering for destruction. To Myrrine, the lioness turned lamb - stubbornly reclaiming compensation from the Kingdom that had stolen her life, when she should have brought Sparta to her knees with the all-consuming rage of a woman who had lost her family to a nation that never valued it.
(Because that's what Kassandra would have done in her place. She would have burned Sparta to the ground, made the Kings beg and turned gold and red to tangerine embers and grey ashes in her fists.)
Then her mind wandered on to Kyra, and to Daphnae, who were both still breathing today. Because of her; and thanks to Lara.
When Kassandra's thoughts converged on the archeologist again they were lighter than her glum musings, bringing a smile to her lips and filling her chest with warmth. Hopefully, she was enjoying herself at the sym—
"Kassandra?"
She froze, adrenaline coursing through her muscles, wondering for a second if the voice had been a trick of her mind, but the subsequent ruffling of fabric was very real. Lara wouldn't be calling her name if it wasn't safe to do so.
Talk about Hades, she puffed.
"Up here," thank the Gods she'd had the presence of mind to put on a fresh and clean chiton once her skin had dried, soaking up the delicately scented oil. Lara's embarrassed flailing at seeing her bared to the night would have been hilarious, come to think of it.
Passing through a window and scaling a wall in a dress and leather sandals proved to be more difficult for Lara than Kassandra would have imagined. She grinned, leaving her to struggle a little while as the archeologist cursed the heavens above under her breath, before stretching her arm over the edge of the roof and waving it.
Lara leaped up with a grunt and wrapped her hands over Kassandra's forearm, leaving the other woman to haul her up the rest the way.
Kassandra thought she would launch into a mundane conversation right away, maybe recount the events of the symposium. Lara stood there instead, a little wobbly on her legs, with an intense look on her face, studying the other woman like she wanted to crack her open.
"What is it?"
"Your strength is absolutely ridiculous, you know that?" the archeologist blurted.
What on Earth was she on about? Kassandra quirked an eyebrow at her, taking in Lara's appearance, her red cheeks and the shine in her sparkling eyes were telling.
"Are you drunk?" she asked back, helping Lara up and over her body when she approached.
The archeologist's usual finesse honed by years of gymnastics and rock climbing was all but forgotten as she rolled up into the most painfully awkward position Kassandra had seen her yet. Lara sat, before flopping down next to her, forcing the other woman to move a little towards the ledge.
How was this tiny thing taking up so much space, Kassandra mused.
"No," Lara's words came out slurred. "A little tipsy, I think…" Kassandra saw her frown at the night sky. "I had half a… a vase I believe."
"Only half?" she teased, nudging her shoulder. "And look at you."
"I'm not drunk," Lara glanced back, pursing her lips just so. Her flushed cheeks said otherwise.
"Sure," Kassandra gave her an exaggerated nod, and blinked slowly.
"I used to be a barmaid," Lara kept on. "I know drunk," she waved her hand, pointing at herself briskly. "This isn't drunk."
A snort spilled out of the other woman's mouth. "Okay, Lara." Kassandra left it at that, the conversation coming to an end, replaced by a loaded silence. Then:
"You don't believe me."
"I don't believe you," she conceded.
If she wasn't already aware of Lara's inebriated state, her next statement would have convinced Kassandra right away. The archeologist puffed her chest, giving her a very serious look before proclaiming: "I am not a lightweight. I could drink you under the table."
Kassandra barked out a laugh so loud, she worried the nocturnal passersby down in the street could hear her. It took a few seconds to gather her bearings and wipe the tears away from the corner of her eye.
"Is it a challenge?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"It bloody sure is!"
Kassandra chuckled, and tapped Lara's thigh. "I have more than two thousand years on you. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Are you afraid to lose?" Lara swatted her hand, albeit gently. She gave it a soft squeeze before letting it go.
"Very afraid," Kassandra deadpanned. "Yes."
"It's settled, then," Lara huffed. "Name the place and time. I'll even let you choose the beverage," the word 'beverage' sounded even funnier in Lara's slurred accent.
"Your mansion," she decided. "Anything from the cellar goes…" Kassandra trailed off before scrunching her nose. "Except that bottle of Pétrus you have."
That vile concoction deserved to be flushed down a toilet over and over again. Its taste was just as revolting as the watered horse piss Markos had harvested from his vineyard.
The confused frown on Lara's face as her brain processed the onslaught of information was endearing to say the least – it made Kassandra grin wide.
"How do you even know about…" she shook her head, changing topics just as suddenly, "It's a manor, not a mansion. Mansion is derived from old French and Latin—"
"Mansio," Kassandra finished for her. Drunk or not, Lara's mind was still filled with an impressive repertory of ancient knowledge, ready to be unleashed should the occasion arise. It was astonishing to Kassandra, knowing that her brain was never turned off.
It took three seconds of awkward blinking for the archeologist to make sense of Kassandra's pointed look. Her blank expression was quickly replaced by an embarrassed chuckle. "Right," she nodded to herself. "You would know. Of course. You were there." Lara frowned at her. "Were you there?"
Kassandra's austere expression cracked, revealing a sly grin. "Maybe."
Not during that time, actually. But the opportunity to mess with the younger woman was too good to be passed over. Right on cue, Lara huffed: "Always so vague," and turned her attention back to the stars.
Kassandra took the time to watch her profile, from the eyes that blinked slowly, to the inviting swell of her lips. She turned away, biting the inside of her cheek, struggling to focus with the coil of hunger simmering under her skin. No need to stoke the embers of temptation.
She cleared her throat, forcing out, "How was the symposium?"
"I missed you," Lara said as simply as if Kassandra had asked her to pass over the wine, and those words were enough for her to simultaneously melt and go mute from the joincing pain in her heart. Lara kept on, breathing out a deep sigh and looking over at Kassandra. "She asked me to join her crew. Both of us."
"Makes sense," the woman nodded, her throat loosening enough to form words. "Good assets. I would have done the same."
They shared a look, thoughts bouncing back and forth between them before Lara burst out in laughter, quickly followed by Kassandra. The archeologist shifted her body around, facing her instead, propping her head on her fist; a small smile playing on her plump lips - and Kassandra knew she was done for.
"She told me about your recruiting methods," her brow creased, her face open and curious. "Kidnapping, uh?"
"First of all," Kassandra raised her hand in defense. "This is a gross exaggeration, they were usually awake by the time we boarded the ship," save for a few exceptions. "And asking nicely doesn't work," she laughed. "Did it work with you?"
Lara's grin widened, all white teeth and bright eyes as she said, "I could have traded you for Herodotos."
Kassandra was laughing again, her cheeks aching from it. "Ouch," she drew the word out in a dramatic fashion and rubbed at the chiton above her beating heart. Chancing a look in the archeologist's direction, Kassandra puffed her chest. "I have more stories to tell than he does, anyway."
"And you're prettier, too," the words spilled out of Lara's mouth before she could stop them. She bit her lip, looking almost nervous, and Kassandra felt her heart speed up again and a cold shudder run along her spine.
She knew it then, the realization rattling through her, down to the marrow. She knew that the woman would be her downfall.
Every look, each word, smile and laugh had been eating at her resolution. A slow, yet inexorable process that eroded her like pebbles smoothed by the currents of rivers. More than two thousand years of holding on by sheer determination, through time and grief, and here she was now, almost at the finish line with the one person who could undo it all. The one who could make Kassandra wonder what it would take to give in the whispers and keep the Staff for herself. Just for a little bit longer.
Why not?
Her hand rose, touching Lara's cheek, a light caress with the tips of her fingers. Kassandra's lips quirked - not quite a smile, closer to a grimace - her gaze lingering on the beautiful eyes that were looking back at her so earnestly. Her own clouding with guilt, the impending truth on the tip of her tongue.
"I can't do this," she said, her voice strained, words bruising her mouth bloody on their way out. "I can't do this to you," she muttered because to say it louder hurt.
Lara was observing her, just like the previous night. Face to face again, Kassandra's skin prickled with each warm puff of Lara's breath that washed over her cheeks and lips, the younger woman's gaze setting aflame the fibers of all the emotions she had carefully and meticulously buried.
So, Kassandra spoke, first with her eyes closed because telling it to the darkness would be easier. "When we..." she quickly opened them again, taking the plunge head on, because Lara deserved to be told properly. "When we get back to the present, I…" she began in a whisper no louder than a murmur to Lara's ears. "I won't have much time left."
She didn't know exactly what she had expected. Bewilderment? A touch of anger, perhaps betrayal, but Lara's features were blank, except for the crease on her brow. Fleeting confusion in her eyes before they flickered to the weight on Kassandra's chest, the pendant hanging from the chain around her neck - a hint of a glower bouncing off of Lara's features.
Lara's gaze travelled upwards again to pin her in place, stealing her breath away. She could see the question marks aligning one after the other; an interrogation filling Lara's head, stuck at the back of her throat.
"How?" a squeak, her voice hollow, congested by all the other things she wanted to say. Her eyes lingered on the pendant again – Lara knew already; she just wanted—needed Kassandra to say it out loud.
Kassandra didn't have the strength to deny her. "Someone is coming to end the fight I started here, in Greece," she cleared her throat, her guts in a nervous knot that kept twisting and twisting and hurting. "I will have to give her the pendant... the Staff of Hermes Trismegistus."
Lara's gaze was drawn to it again, recognition flashing in her eyes. Her hand trailed up, hovering over the jewel, before putting the flat of her warm palm on Kassandra's chest. "The Divine Source?"
She nodded meekly. "They're... related."
"But I destroyed it."
"I know," Kassandra's fingers caressed her cheek again, prompting her to look up. "You had to."
Guilty tears shimmered in Lara's eyes. "No..." she tried to blink them away. "I led Trinity to Kitezh, I could have—I should have left it alone. Jacob…"
The Isu Aletheia had talked about. The only true survivor of their race, tasked with guarding the source that couldn't be moved to safety, to protect it from greedy minds eager to have a taste of immortality.
"He knew what he was doing, Lara," she said softly. "He chose it."
"Did you?" the question stumbled out of the archeologist's mouth, short and sharp, slashing Kassandra's heart.
She smiled then, a sad thing, blinking away the shine she could feel in her eyes, the burn behind them. "I never had a say," Kassandra whispered. "This was decided long before I was even born."
Like the Oracles in Aristophanes' plays, announcing bad omens and impending prophecies humans couldn't fight against. Disjointed puppets, blissfully ignorant and enslaved to their fate, strung around by the Gods.
Kassandra had been the Isus' puppet, jerked around like a wooden toy with a broken heart. Obedient and unquestioning.
"I always knew… how it would end. And I was okay with it, for the most part," Kassandra shrugged, the first tear surprising her before Lara caught it with her thumb. She leaned into the archeologist's touch. "But you…" she breathed out, her sigh heavy with regrets, despite the smile on her quivering lips. "I hadn't accounted for you."
Kassandra could barely see Lara through her blurred vision. She bit her lips, to prevent the tears from falling, she had bawled enough these last few days to last her a lifetime. She heard Lara swallow, felt the touch of her calloused fingers on her mouth, her thumb sliding over her lip gently until Kassandra released it from the death trap of her teeth.
"How long?" was the only thing the archeologist managed, her voice hushed and trembling at the edges.
Kassandra shrugged again, her voice surprisingly even when she spoke, "Months, maybe a year…"
If we're lucky, she almost added.
If Layla took her time, if she was delayed. If the Assassins or Templars got to her. If the Animus malfunctioned. If the bleeding effect overwhelmed her and she didn't make it.
If, if, if.
The end of her life written in maybes and ellipses.
Her chest rose again, deflating with a long, steadying breath. "I can't do this to you," Kassandra repeated. "This isn't fa—"
The rest of her sentence died, swallowed by Lara's lips mashing into hers, her mouth forced open by the woman's tongue. Warm and desperate. The kiss was messy, an emotional clash of lips and tongues and teeth and hiccups disguised as heavy breathing.
"Shut up," Lara pleaded, when she pulled away. Her nostrils flared when she blinked, sliding her thumb across Kassandra's lips and sniffling. "D-don't… Please don't talk. Just kiss me."
And Kassandra obeyed.
So... who is in tears right now? Because my beta and I were both crying. Ehm.
Ikaros my poor bb.
On my first playthrough I thought Alkibiades was part of Kosmos, if not the Ghost (because History, y'know. Him being a turncoat and all), and I kept expecting him to betray me between two trysts. I'm glad I was wrong because I love his stupid face.
Second generation Athenian males was a direct jab at Aspasia's son with Perikles. Perikles actually vouched let (male) children born in Athens become citizens once they were of age, and it worked. :)
I played with different options for 'the big reveal' ranging from Angry Lara to Angsty Lara to Frozen Lara. We fell somewhere in the middle between Angsty and Frozen, I hope it somehow makes sense for you. Shocked torpor and creeping realization, rather than anger.