Well, hopefully I haven't run out of steam yet ._. lets see how long we can keep this train chugging on

The torches at the end-posts of the hanging bridges blazed with fire. The trees, it seemed, were aglow with stars.

Ophrenet made her way from her former assigned dwelling toward Ashtoreth's palace. At each tree, there was a junction of some sort, whether a circular balcony, an external stair, an internal stair, or a house. At every junction there was a slave, and they bowed to her.

Word traveled fast in Ashtoreth's domain.

Ashtoreth's former domain.

She had dressed herself in pale sky-blue, a silky gown that pinned at both shoulders with gold medallions and fell to her ankles. Her hair had grown a little in the time since she'd left Kelowna—longer than she usually kept it, but not long enough to reach her shoulders; it was downy-fine and floated about her ears like a halo in the light of the lamps.

The bridge swung under her light footsteps.

They were watching; all of them. They could see her from their positions around in the tree city; and she could see them too. None of them attended her, save alone the Fates, who followed at a distance in a single-file line. Perhaps they wished to observe more closely; perhaps they viewed their role as one to legitimize her ascent to power. The three had behaved similarly toward Ashtoreth.

Either way, they stopped when she arrived at the palace, and stayed standing outside on the porch.

Ophrenet left them behind and walked into the throne room.

She was alone there. The censers burned with blue light, billowing with clouds of smoke. Vines from the planters that adorned the rafters had grown down low enough to touch, and some of them swelled with flowers. Light entered through a line of small, elevated windows, making rays across the white mist.

Ashtoreth's throne was there upon the dais. It was not a chair, but a carved wooden couch with a blue cushion. The wooden feet had the shape of birds' claws. The Queen's scepter was still there behind the throne, docked in a bronze clasp that held it upright. The crescent sickle was at its top, formed of pure silver.

Ophrenet ascended the dais. She ran her fingers lightly along this weapon—for it was a bladed weapon, as well as an ornament—and then seated herself lightly upon the couch, facing the front of the room.

So. This is what it is like to be a Goa'uld Queen.

…

Kianna.

…

Kianna, are you sleeping? We made it, Kianna.

Kianna's voice was sluggish. Why are we here?

Ophrenet realized that ever since she'd been forced to make a snap decision on the balcony, she'd been subconsciously repressing the host, and had forgotten to let up. She relaxed significantly, allowing Kianna to fully wake and giving her control of the body. The girl sat up and gripped the edge of the seat, then looked around slowly.

Don't be angry with me. Please. I didn't mean to repress you.

No, I… I told you to do it, didn't I.

Do you like the dress? I picked it out for you, I think it's quite nice.

Kianna picked at the right-shoulder medallion. "We killed her," she said out loud.

I killed her. Are you sad about her death?

Of course I'm not sad about her death. It's just that I've never killed anyone before, and well, I know that you did it, but, let's be honest, I was fully complicit. I wanted you to do it.

There's no need to feel bad about it.

I don't feel bad. We had to save Marian.

Then cheer up! Everything that is hers belongs to us now.

Us? Netty, I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this.

Well, I wasn't planning for this either. I never expected that something like this might happen. But this is the situation that we're in now. Together.

I think we should leave now.

And how? How would we even start to extricate ourselves from this situation now? We are even more deeply entangled than we were before. It is still four days' journey to the Stargate, three if we don't stop for nights, and we can't leave anymore without being missed.

What does it matter if we are missed? We are the Queen.

It is too soon for us to go on a little vacation just yet, Kianna. Our power here has not been consolidated; if we were to vanish another Goa'uld would quickly fill the vacuum. And we would be immediately suspect. What Goa'uld would turn this down? We cannot very well politely hand off our power. Especially not to one of these imbeciles. What would become of the symbiotes? To say nothing of the humans who live on this planet. Like it or not, we've just assumed responsibility for them.

Oh… Netty could tell that Kianna was greatly distressed, and found this confusing. What are we going to do?

Why not enjoy it while you can?

I can't, Netty, I can't. I want to help them, I really do. But what if we make a mistake? People will die… Kianna gripped her head about the ears.

I won't let that happen.

That's what you said about Marian.

And she's alive, isn't she?

Kianna sighed.

We must act the part, or these Goa'uld will turn on us in a second.

Kianna sat up straight and drew her eyebrows together. Yes, and why HAVEN'T they turned on us, Netty? Why are they bowing to us if they could overpower us so easily? You are not Ashtoreth.

She was irritated by the symbiote's silence, Netty was refusing to even consider this observation.

Besides, Netty wheedled, there are some changes I would like to make around the place, and I know you would like to make them too.

What changes can WE make without drawing suspicion?

No sooner had she posed this question than a noise came to their ears from outside the door of the throne room. There had been hushed talking, then the multiple voices of the Fates said, "None may enter save—" then there was some more hushed talking. "Very well," said the Fates, with a tone of resignation that suggested that after everything else that had taken place today, this might as well happen.

Marian entered the court.

Ophrenet had already been wondering when she was going to see the girl again, so she was unsurprised.

Marian's next actions, however, were a little more unexpected.

She fell on the floor, and prostrated herself face-down before the throne. Her voice was slightly muffled. "My Goddess. M' Queen. I owe thee m' life. A' the hand've Asht'reth m' death woulda been in vain."

Kianna stood up without poise, rather taken aback.

Marian didn't even look up from the floor. "Thuly thou'rt the true goddess of the harvest, m'lady. But also of the rain, the winds, fate, knowlidge, and everthin' in Asht'reth's domain. Be praised. If thou wouldst not smite me for m' boldness'n makin such a pray'r—but I believe thou wouldst not m'lady—thou'rt most merciful—O Great Ophrenet, be pleased t' send rain upon m' village. Tis my own fault that I directed not m' prayer t'thee before. Forgive me for failin' to recognize thee and thy power in thy disguise."

Kianna stepped down from the dais.

"Marian. Listen."

At hearing the sound of her goddess's humanlike voice, Marian raised her head slightly.

Kianna got down on her knees next to the girl. "I have to tell you something." She swallowed and spoke quietly. "I'm not a goddess."

Marian just blinked. Her tears rolled away down her face.

"I'm not. I'm just a person like you."

"What?"

"Well, two people. There's two of us in here. There's me, Kianna, and there's Ophrenet. She's not a goddess either. None of these people are gods."

"Kianna? I'm talkin' to thee? And Ophrenet? She be talkin'… different?"

"That is correct." Netty's eyes lit up briefly, and Marian jumped backwards.

"Goddess!"

"No."

"But… but…" Marian's voice fell. Her face was transitioning through sadness and disbelief. "Why? M'lady, why?"

"Why what?"

"I don't understand… what does it mean?"

"I am called a Goa'uld. I am… another being that shares the body of Kianna. There are many of us. The others that you know as gods have taken the bodies of their hosts in full and do not share them. They have some powers that you may find impressive, but none that an ordinary human like yourself could not obtain. Even Ashtoreth could not control the weather, and neither can I."

"Thou cans't not send rain? What of the soothsayers? The oracles? The card-readers? The astrologists? They say th' will of Ashtoreth controls all and… it must be discerned…." Tears began to slip down her face again.

"No, Ashtoreth was not communicating with these people. And even if she had, she knows no more about the rains than the cleverest sky watcher."

"Are there no true gods, then?"

"I am not here to tell you there are no true gods. Only that I am not the one to whom you must direct your prayer." Netty stood up carefully, looking around. "It is I who must ask a favor of you. Do not tell any of the others that I have said this to you. They still fear me. If they did not, they would kill me at once."

Marian swallowed, still sitting on the floor, but eventually she gave a tiny nod. "Even so thou's saved my life, mlady. And 'm very grateful. I'll be silent for thee. I've a life-debt t'thee, they take em much seriously in my home land. I'll remain thy servant if thou so wish'st…" she bunched herself up, grasping her elbows nervously. "Specially since I'ven't got much another choice in this city…"

"Yes, please," said Kianna, back to herself. "Stay with me whenever you can, while you're not working with the servants, and don't go near any of the other Goa'uld. I will try to keep you safe. Let me know if anything seems dicey."

Marian got to her feet, and smoothed her hair down. "I will. Thank ye much, goddess."

"Please don't call us that."

"Oh…" Marian reddened, both crestfallen and embarrassed. "Forgive me g—um… m'lady."

What will she call us?

"You may call us Your Majesty" or "My Queen", in front of others, if you please," said Ophrenet.

"Yes, m' Queen," said Marian, and bowed deeply.