The march into the canyon felt endless. Over five-hundred men from different war parties gathered towards the bottleneck of the entrance and made their way in. Drum beats could be heard throughout the canyon as the men were welcomed with a celebration. A podium had been erected on the highest ridge where the leaders of the Great Khans resided. The men gathered below it as they waited for everyone behind them to catch up. Vulpes stood on the podium looking over the crowd that was growing as those residing within the canyon joined in. Both men and women of the Great Khans joined at the side lines, the celebration not only for the victories of the Legion, but also for the finalization of the alliance formed between the two factions. Vulpes scanned the crowd, until his eyes landed on her. Maximus was one of the last to march into the canyon. Though her hair was now long, her armor had changed and she now carried a spear, he could not mistake her for any other. Her shoulders were drawn back and her head was held high but no expression showed on her face. She looked up and their eyes met. Her face did not change, he could not read her and though he did not show it, it confused him. His gaze remained locked on her until Papa Khan prompted him to begin the ceremony that would unite their forces. After turning to address the rest of the crowd, he looked back to find her gone.

Maximus slipped away unnoticed as the crowd hung on to every word Vulpes spoke. She made it to a grouping of tents that were set aside for those of higher rank and claimed one as her own. It was more spacious than she could have asked for, though she no longer owned anything to fill it. It had what appeared to be a comfortable queen sized bed, a water basin with a mirror for grooming, a selection of furniture, and finally a fireplace. She could not imagine the effort it took to construct several of these. She walked over to a wardrobe and opened it to find several plain tunics. Another drawer revealed delicate women's clothing. The final drawer contained items that made her blush, but did not shock her: bindings, riding crops, blind folds and an assortment of other tools for pleasure. She looked over to the bed and now understood why it was so big. The celebration was not meant to end outside. Her mind flitted to Vulpes for only a moment, enraging her as an image of him from the night she left flashed before her. As she slammed the drawer shut, the force slightly opened the drawer containing the women's clothes and an idea struck. It could possibly be her last day alive and she had yet to ever try to be a woman.

Within the drawer, she found several sets of lingerie but settled on a simple pair of black panties not wanting to constrict her chest with bindings or a bra. There were a few prewar dresses in different styles, but one that stood out to her was fashioned as the priestesses wear, meant to be draped over a single shoulder as delicate and light layers of purple fabric fell to floor length. She had seen the origin of the style in one of Vulpes books he had lent her on Old Rome. After quickly bathing at the basin, she let the dress envelope her and was thankful for the single sleeve as she was sure her build would not allow her to fit into an otherwise full dress. A nervous energy filled her as she moved to the mirror and took in the sight. It was alien. As a frumentarii, she had always appreciated what a simple change of clothes could do for altering ones appearance, but this was beyond anything she had done before. She took her leather hair tie and proceeded to pull all of her hair up into a loose bun that allowed tendrils to fall around her face. She felt….pretty. The beat of drums picked up outside, signaling the end of the ceremony and the beginning of the evenings feast. Her heart beat picked up. She pulled her knife from her armor and used it to slice a strip of fabric from one of the layers underneath the dress and wound it around her arm to hide her scar. The tied ends hung down her arm, complementing the flow of the dress. She looked like a brand new person. After months of being away from the fort and alienating herself, she was confident that nobody would truly recognize her aside from the one man who already knew. If she stayed among the Great Khans and their many women, the Legion soldiers would be none the wiser. For one night, she could be free. She slipped out and merged with the crowd.

Vulpes stayed with the Great Khan leaders for as long as he was required, relieved when their attentions were turned towards women sent to entertain them. Taking his leave, he wandered around the crowd of men, scanning it for Maximus. After she had disappeared, several men were called to the platform to receive Caesars favor for their performance in battle, but when her name was called, she did not come. His irritation had flared at her disrespect and cowardice as he sought her out. After touring the many tents dedicated to the feast and finding no trace of her, he checked in with Alerio who had not seen sight of them. Though the roar of celebration was loud, the men of the Legion could not compare to the volume of the Great Khans who were unknowingly consuming their last vices before the war, for once it was over, they would be truly assimilated under Legion law. The thought gave him pause. He turned in the direction of the loudest tent and made his way inside.

The stench of alcohol and chems burned his nose. It was similar to that of Gomorrah but somehow more humid. His eyes flitted around the tent as he walked it's perimeter, disguising his sneer with boredom. There were very few men in crimson tunics present and their company only lasted long enough to engage a woman and leave with them. None of them were Maximus. As he was about to leave, a familiar laugh caught his attention and he turned to see a man with a woman seated across his lap. He couldn't see either of their faces until the woman leaned back to grab something from another mans hand. The face of the man was revealed and defeat washed over Vulpes. His irritation grew. The woman turned her head and took a swig out of a bottle that had been handed to her. When she put the bottle down, cold realization washed over Vulpes as her face became clear. Before him, Maximus was dressed as he had never seen, nor imagined. He stalked up to her, ripping her arm from around the man's neck all the while glaring at him in challenge. The Khan raised his arms in surrender and allowed him to extract an intoxicated Maximus from his lap. At first she was surprised but quickly recovered with anger as she moved to lash out at whoever yanked her away from her seat. She stopped dead upon seeing his face, the ridge of her brow lowering just so before she made a poor attempt at schooling her features. She bowed her shoulders back, held her head higher and raised her brow at him.

"Vul." She said, as if in a passing greeting. His nostrils flared in anger. He grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her from the tent. It was easier than he anticipated and he soon realized how intoxicated she must be for it to be possible. His grip on her arm tightened. She did not cry out, but he knew he was hurting her. Nobody paid attention as they made their way around the perimeter of the camp as several men were occupied with giggling women in tow. He pulled them further into the canyon until he found an alcove they wouldn't be seen nor heard in. He made quick work of slamming her into the rock wall, both of his hands at her shoulders.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"Celebrating, my master frumentarius. Though, I would think you of all people would be able to pick up on that. It's your job, after all.", she bit out airily.

"You would do well to remember your place, woman." he sneered.

"I was demoted from my place, if you don't remember. I surely do!" she said as she fought against his hold on her. He slammed her back into the wall.

"You should be scourged for your ever growing list of crimes. A demotion was kindness. Now, you're consuming intoxicants with chem dealing profligates while draping yourself over them as a whore would! Is this what you've spent the past few months occupying your time with? Acclimating to the lifestyle of the woman you truly are?" She head butted him. The satisfying crunch of a broken nose did not grace her ears, but a trail of blood running from his split lip was almost enough to make her smile. Almost. He drew back, his hands still pinning her at the shoulders knowing what would come next. She tried to swing out.

"How dare you!" she screamed as she attempted to lunge for him. His body weight and stance held her in place. A dangerous expression set on his face she was sure mirrored her own. She lunged again, unsuccessfully. "You don't fucking get it!" she was beyond reasonable banter and negotiation. Her emotions betrayed her rationality. "After a lifetime of servitude and dedication, this is what you chalk me up to—as if I never meant anything to you! As if I never meant anything to the Legion!" She tried again, his body still pinning her, but remaining out of shot for her attacks. "All I've ever done is served and now because I celebrate what I know is my last day of freedom in a manner that you do frequently in Vegas, you write me off as if I am nothing! How DARE you!" At her last word, she kicked out from the rock facing, catching Vulpes below his diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him. He dropped to the ground and she took off running. He caught her by her ankle and she fell to the ground hard, scraping her face on the gravel. She kicked back blindly, her heel catching his temple. He went limp. For a moment, she laid there looking at him, panting, unable to believe she had incapacitated him so easily. His breathing was evening out, he was still alive. She extracted her ankle from his hand and quickly ran back to camp leaving him behind.

Back at her tent, she looked like any other woman warming the bed of a legionnaire. Inside, she quickly stripped her dress off and threw it into the fire before redressing in her tunic and throwing on her armor. She pulled her hair down and moved in front of the mirror and was met with her bloody face and disheveled hair. She unwrapped the purple fabric from around her and tied her hair up into a high ponytail to keep it out of the way as she cleaned the abrasions on her face. It was a rushed process, but it was enough to not look suspicious if someone were to see her. She looked almost normal with the exception of her hair so she grabbed her knife and hastily cut her ponytail off at the base, letting it fall to the floor. After a few cuts to make it look less hurried, she checked herself in the mirror. Once again, a man stared back at her. Angry tears welled in her eyes as she blamed the intoxicants for her emotional state. Her fist slammed into the mirror, shattering the visage before her before she grabbed her pack and ducked out of the tent.

Vulpes rose from the ground, ignoring the pounding in his head as he assessed the damage to his person. He wiped from his face blood and the sand that stuck to it, knowing he looked like hell. He hadn't expected her to kick at him, it had never been her style, but after months of being under the tutelage of others, he should have been prepared. He cursed himself as he ran back to camp. Upon arriving at the edge, he slipped into a small tent thankful that it was unoccupied and moved to the basin to wash his face of blood. Upon seeing his reflection, his anger was reignited. A large split bisected the right side of his lower lip which had swelled substantially. He couldn't be seen in such a state. He riffled through the tent until he found what he needed; a stimpack. He pinched the skin and inserted the needle before depressing the plunger half way, knowing he didn't want nor need a full pack. The medicine was banned, but for his position, he would make an exception as he would expect any of his men to do. He stared at his reflection as his skin knit itself back together and the swelling decreased until only a small white line remained. In a few hours, even that would have disappeared. He stormed back outside towards the officer tents, knowing she had to have claimed one earlier in the evening. Alerio ran up to him once realizing the urgency in his gate. He ordered him to search tents until the woman in the purple dress was found but only a few minutes later called off the search after ducking his head into a tent and seeing the destruction inside. It had to be hers. He ordered his men to the entrance of the canyon, not telling them why but instructing them to learn of Maximus' whereabouts as he inspected the tent.

The first thing he noticed when he walked back inside was the fireplace and the charred remains of purple silk hanging slightly out of the opening. It was her tent. On the floor he found the wrap she had concealed her scar with wrapped around her hair. He picked it up from the floor, allowing the hair to spill from it as he inspected it. She would look like her old self, now. When he looked up, he saw the shattered mirror with a light smattering of blood where the impact was strongest. She was injured, yet again. No other signs of her remained. Her armor was gone, her pack missing, as well. She had fled once more. For a moment, he allowed his shoulders to drop with an inaudible sigh as he looked down at the fabric in his hand. He lifted it to his face and breathed in, closing his eyes as he experienced the smoky and sweet smell of her. Conflict rose at how familiar it was to him, a comforting smell of a lifelong friend as well as a complete stranger. He tucked ribbon of fabric away before heading outside to gather reports from his men.

"He departed a little over an hour ago. It seems he is heading to the Legate's camp to assist in the war efforts." Vulpes heart sunk.

"Have you learned anything of the woman?" Alerio questioned.

"No. It isn't of importance. I believed her to be trying to compromise Maximus. It seems I was mistaken." He stated, as a relieved man would. Inside, he was seething.

"Compromise, sir?"

"As any profligate of this disgusting tribe would do. Again, it isn't of importance." He bit out, dismissing his men. He returned to the tent and destroyed any remaining evidence of the woman in the purple dress.