Disclaimers: See Chapter 1
Additional Note (Please Read): This tale is a companion with, Xena & Gabrielle: A Turn of Fate. If you haven't read both stories' chapters preceding this one, you should do so now. Would like to give a big thanks to my lovely Beta reader, Jinxie 2013, for always doing a wonderful job of editing. Also, I want to thank my readers whom stick it out with me and await my tales. Enjoy. :-)
The Conqueror & Ri,
A Twist of Destiny,
By, Ahkiken
Chapter 32: Incognito
"Hey!" I hear Petracles blare out to me while I'm sitting on the hill, sharpening my sword.
Setting the whetstone and my sword aside, I glance upwards at him, glimpsing his long, dark-brownish hair that he's fond of braiding now. "Hi, Petracles."
He leans against the tree next to me, a bemused expression on his lips. "Look at you, all serious and alert. The village has been peaceful for countless seasons, along with our neighboring villages, yet you appear ready for another battle."
I become annoyed fast. "Perhaps you've forgotten that not very long ago, Acanthus was nearly raided by ruffians."
"No, I haven't." Petracles' smile widens. "Just like I didn't forget the cropped-haired girl who was sent a missive to aid them."
Although I've kept my midnight tresses cut short for the past three years after Cortese's fruitless attack, I remain self-conscious of the fact whenever someone mentions it. Trying to allude confidence, I run my fingers through my raven hair in a secure fashion.
"I will always protect the defenseless."
"You don't have to sell me, Xena. You know I'll be right beside you, fighting the good fight, because I like you..." Petracles pauses and points to my head. "As well as your hair-cut."
I'm more than knowledgeable of Petracles' affections for me. He has informed me about his adoration on a few occasions. Also, my mother is a big promoter for his cause, adhering to having us join together in blissful matrimony. Nevertheless, I have no intentions on allowing that to happen. Being a warrior is my passion, rather than becoming a wife.
"Thank you, but if you came up here to express your feelings for me, I truly don't want-"
"That's not why I'm here." He interjects, pushing himself off the bark of the tree, a bit dismayed.
"What do you want than?" I query.
"There's a celebration in your honor." Petracles avers.
"What?" I am taken aback. "Why?"
"Do you really need to ask that?"
"If it's for protecting the village or any of the deeds I've done for other villages, tell them that festivities in my name isn't necessary." I reply, picking up my sword and whetstone to finish what I was doing before Petracles' arrival.
He walks over to stand in front of me and I unwittingly notice the wee growth of his beard, erasing Petracles' boyish features to instead give him the appearance of a handsome man. My heart flutters a split moment from the observation and I focus on sliding the stone on my blade to make it sharper than it already is.
"Come on, Xena." Petracles touches my hand gently to end my task. "Everybody is waiting for you. And to be honest, you deserve this honoring."
"What makes you think that?" I ask disdainfully. "I'm not the only person risking my life to prevent warlords and goons from assailing villages. All of us under Meleager are putting our lives on the line every moment our sword crosses a foe's."
"Don't cheapen yourself this way. A festival is thrown for all of us when we return from stopping a rag-tag group of warriors from besetting a village, but you hardly ever participate in any of them. That troubles the villagers, especially since you're the person they feel should be partaking in every one of them." Petracles reveals.
My reproach is ceased by Petracles kneeling to place his forefinger over my mouth.
"Stay silent and listen." He demands, removing his offending digit. "Others fight alongside you, and you know I'll take the credit for being the proficient fighter among you all to have a celebration declared for me solely. Problem is, the town-folks are cognizant of your skills and bravery. It started with your defense of Amphipolis against Cortese. Not forgetting your offensive for warding off the planned invasion from his idiot lieutenant, whom tried to achieve what Cortese couldn't."
I chuckle at the memory of Cortese's former lieutenant. Zagreas had no clue what hit him when I led a group of us to give the bald-headed, zany fool and his men a thorough bashing. We were highly effective that day, defeating them soundly, then handing him and his cohorts over to the council elders for imprisonment without loss of life on either side. If only my skillfulness wasn't inept during our struggle with Cortese, maybe I could have thwarted Toris' death.
Merriment abandons me, causing Petracles to caress my gloomy visage. "What did I say wrong?"
"Nothing." I profess, moving away from his intimate grasp. "I was thinking about how my abilities has improved over the cycles of seasons. If they were this refined when we fought Cortese, I would've never been taken down by that legless man, and Toris wouldn't have gotten distracted while he was contending with him. He would still be alive today."
"I curse my own novice capabilities, too. At night, before I succumb to Hypnos' realm, I lie awake, pondering how many deaths could I'd possibly negate if I had been a better warrior like I am this day." Petracles states, his eyes downcast in advance of looking at me. "But then I ruminate on how disastrous things could've turned out had it not been for you showing up. You single-handedly altered Amphipolis' defeat to a victory, saving more lives than what was lost to Pluto. That is one of the numerous reasons why the villagers want to honor you."
I divert my orbs from his. "They should extol Meleager when he gets back. If it wasn't for him, I probably would not have ever wielded a sword."
"If Meleager had his way, we wouldn't be defending other villages either. We do it because of you, Xena. You are always charging into danger, simply for the benefit of others. The villagers discern that also. Most of 'em revere you and think of you as a fearless hero; protecting the weak from anybody that dares to prey on them." Again, Petracles' gentle touch clutches my face, so we can lock eyes. "They believe you're lionhearted, and... So do I."
Petracles' gaze is tender and I sense he wants to kiss me. Should I let him? His words are extremely heartfelt, making me lose the melancholic emotion that I can easily drown myself in. However, will kissing him be a meritorious award? I want to, not because he's attractive though. It will be to repay him for his kind words, but I realize that decision won't suffice for Petracles; the kiss will mean little to me, but it'll matter to him.
Once more, I escape his sensual contact, neglecting the disconsolate look he has whilst I arise, until the pitiful pout starts to affect me.
Trying to lighten his mood, I quip, "Alright, you've cajoled me into going to this jollification. It better be worth Cronus, 'cause I am forfeiting polishing my blade for it."
He attempts a wane smirk, scooping my weapon and the whetstone in his hands as he rises to his full height, which is a couple of millimeters shorter than me. "It'll be fun, I promise."
"I will hold you to it." I avow, straightening my old, tattered tunic.
Trekking down the hill together, I espy an unfamiliar man standing idle at the bottom, who has a sword sheathed on his right hip, also a bow and a quiver of arrows attached to his back.
"Do you know him?" I inquire quietly, reaching for my weapon in Petracles' grip to oppose whoever this dark-skinned guy was that isn't facing us, but he stops me from taking it from him.
"Damn it!" Petracles exclaims, alerting our presence to the armed stranger, coaxing him to spin on his feet in our direction. "Sorry to keep you waiting. It's Xena's fault for being stubborn, proclaiming she didn't want to be a partaker at her own party."
"It is quite okay, Petracles." The man says smoothly. "I'm new to this area, and was preoccupied by admiring the view of Helios shining down on the bridge over the river."
Coming to a halt next to him, I find myself staring at the unknown man, who wears brown gauntlets on both wrists and is adorned in dark, leather trousers, as well as a black vest that's left open, exposing his bare, muscular chest. I've never seen a person that had the complexion of ebony before and I marvel at his features.
"That's the Strymon river, one of Amphipolis' amazing sceneries." Petracles explains. "Oh, where are my manners. Marcus, allow me to introduce you to Xena, the recipient of the celebration that is being held in her honor. Xena, this is Marcus. He travelled with Meleager from Thessaly."
The exultation of knowing that my mentor has returned home, didn't register with me whilst I become amorous with the beaming grin Marcus gives me as his hand extends to latch onto my forearm in a warrior's embrace.
"Hello, Xena." He croons and I nearly swoon at the sight of his beautiful mouth that is smiling at me.
I steady my nerves, greeting him with a smile of my own, "Hello, Marcus. Welcome to Amphipolis."
The Conqueror's jovial countenance from the recollection of her first meeting with the man who would later become her fiancé, wavered to forlornness. With the help from the god of dreams, she would never overlook what Caesar and Cleopatra had done to her life by snatching everything she'd loved in a single swoop. Thirteen years ago, they'd dispatched the twenty-year-old woman's lover and friends right before her eyes.
The Conqueror banged a fist onto the wooden rails of her ship, remembering the man she'd rescued from a fatal blow during the horrific battlefield on the outskirts of Amphipolis. 'Damn Elius eternally for betraying his own comrades, family, and villagers to enemies.'
If the traitor hadn't met his demise on the exploding vessel, the Conqueror would've surely sought revenge on him, just like she did to everybody that wronged her. Pinching the bridge of her nose, the Lord of the Realm shimmered her anger and doldrums. She'd not only vanquished, but had also brought misery to her adversaries. As for the loss of not having a loving relationship, that threatened to leave her living a lonely existence, she had a pretty, talented female waiting to be courted by her.
The aged ruler was anxious, in both a positive and negative way. The thrill of beginning their courtship excited the Conqueror. However, she couldn't diminish the doubts of possibly not satisfying the younger woman. It's been years since she's had a mate, and Ri hadn't ever engaged in a romantic partnership. Would the storyteller become disillusioned with being involved with the Conqueror sexually once she realized she'd had no other experiences? What if Ri decided she doesn't want to be sapphic, and that men are really her preference instead?
'I can accept that.' The Conqueror lied to herself, liking the panorama of kissing the strawberry blonde again. 'If Ri chooses to end our liaison, I'll be grateful and cherish the Cronus we've spent together.'
Not caring for the dejection that came with thoughts of losing Ri, the Conqueror forced the worrying cogitation away. She still had her rounds to do. Focusing on her remaining soldiers and the ordeal they had faced in Dia, the Lord of Greece traipsed below deck.
{C&R}
For a couple of hours, Gabrielle lingered next to the windowsill inside Ri's chamber, steeped in sorrowful rumination because of getting expelled from her world to this one. After shedding an abundance of quiet tears, she had dozed briefly, only to be roused by a rap at the door. Raising herself up and staggering onto her feet, the bard frenetically tried wiping the dried tear streaks off of her cheeks while noting that the sun had shattered the dawn.
'I must have drowsed.' She deduced, ridding herself of the frazzle feeling, which eroded her brain.
More knocking fell upon the chamber door and Gabrielle rationalized that she had to master her sentiments. Eli did warn the petite Samurai of the possible switch between herself and Ri, cautioning her to not disclose her true identity to anyone. Calming down the best she could, Gabrielle mentally fortified her taxed nerves whilst sluggishly walking towards the chamber door.
She had no idea who was behind the closed entry and, for all the tensed Amazon knew, it could be Xena's counterpart on the other side. The dreadful cognizance empowered Gabrielle to actualize the deception of being Ri; she had no affinity on becoming a prisoner to be executed.
Breathing in deeply, then releasing it, Gabrielle leveled her dowdy hair with shaken palms and answered the insistent visitor, "Hello?"
"Good morning, Lady Ri." A feminine voice announced. "It's Enya. I've come bearing your new garments."
'It isn't the Conqueror.' Gabrielle was relieved. "Give me a minute, please."
"A minute? What is that?" Enya queried in puzzlement.
Gabrielle ignored the question and looked around the room, making certain nothing was out-of-place that could be used to veraciously identify her. Only seeing the ruffled furs on the bed, she surmised everything was seemingly in the norm, until her eyes spied the yin-yang chakram resting below the bedstead.
"Lady Ri, are you going to let-"
"In a minute." Gabrielle interrupted the seamstress, rushing over to push the circular weapon underneath the bed, and pulling the blankets down to ensconce it.
Sanguine that everything was perfect, Gabrielle hastily went to the door to allow the stranger entrance. Opening it, she saw four women waiting outside the entryway. The long, brown-haired woman in the front appeared to be the leader of the retinue, and was donned in a fuchsia-colored chiton with black sandals on her feet. All three younger females that were in back of her, wore silk tunics of different colors with decorative cinctures encircling their waists. The two brunettes were wearing blue and red, while the last honey-blonde was bedecked in green. They were also carrying a bundle of clothes in their hands.
"I was starting to suspect that you weren't going to let us..." Enya ceased her sentence to shout, "Eh! Lady Ri, what have you done to yourself?"
Gabrielle immediately felt cagey, eyeing the sky blue kimono and her bare feet, trying to distinguish what was out of the ordinary. "What do you mean?"
"Your hair!" Enya indicated the top of her head as the three women behind her gasped. "Which Dirae afflicted you to make you cut it?"
'Dirae?!' Gabrielle cursed the Omphalos shard for the umpteenth time because of its duality with division; separating her from Xena and the issuance of granting unwanted, if not lacking, visions. 'Damned shard could've given me a gander of Ri and whoever the Dirae is, too!'
She'd already feared not knowing her double's characteristic traits and social position in the castle would be an issue, but not having any picture of what Ri resembled might be the flaw that could destroy her charade.
The Amazon didn't want her silence to compromise her, so with guileful ambition, while making a show of roving fingers through her trimmed golden strands, she fabricated, "I chose to go with a different look... You don't approve?"
The garment designer keenly appraised Gabrielle's unique style, noticing that it made her mien seem older. Her prettiness from yesterday had ascended, becoming more mature and stunningly alluring. Nonetheless, other than the male gender, a female whose hair was snipped like the bard's denoted that they were a slave.
'Surely Ri is abreast of that notion.' Enya pondered.
"Well?" Gabrielle questioned.
"It looks good." Enya asserted respectfully, slyly asking, "Can we enter now? These clothes aren't going to unload themselves."
"Oh, yes." Gabrielle shifted to make space for them to stroll in the chamber. "Sorry... I'm a tad groggy this morning. My mind is still catching up to wakefulness."
Turning her attention from watching her attendants take down and fold Ri's old clothing into a neat pile to commence hanging her brand-new clothing inside the closet, Enya viewed the storyteller's weary presence, concurring, "I bet it is. You were up way past the night's high peak. Selene doesn't agree with you telling stories so late into the night whilst bidding you to sleep."
'Another person I don't know.' Gabrielle stewed, coercing a smile. "Perhaps I'll apologize to her for not listening."
Enya laughed. "What? How are you going to do that? You're going to wait till you see 'her' tonight?"
"Yes." Gabrielle missed the jest, standing next to the bed. "I'll inform Selene that I shouldn't be reciting tales throughout nightly hours and sleep when she commands me."
Enya gawked at Gabrielle, curious why she would seek justification from the silver sphere that replaced Helios, causing her to guffaw. Her attendants stopped what they were doing to discover what was funny.
Regaining her composure and looking at them, she responded, "Lady Ri just avouched something hilarious. Forgive my outburst, and continue on, ladies."
The three women restarted their duty as Gabrielle contemplated what made the seamstress laugh at her expense. 'What did I say that was so amusing? Ugh! I don't have the patience for this right now! Who the hell is Selene anyway?!'
Enya chuckled. "You are a hoot this morning, Lady Ri."
"Being apologetic to Selene is wrong?" Gabrielle asked with mounting vexation.
Descrying Gabrielle's galling tone, Enya affirmed, "My intentions weren't to offend you... You've been making outlandish remarks since I've knocked on your door. Talking about strange things like minute, hours, and how you will give an apology to goddess Diana's celestial."
Gabrielle began feeling like an idiot for not knowing who Diana was either and started to lose her temper.
Having grown perturbed, Enya inquired, "Does this 'new look' and your nebulous statements have anything to do with your postponed-"
"Are y'all done?" Gabrielle interposed, needing to be alone.
"We're almost finished." The attendant who was clad in the red tunic replied, pointing at the remnants of clothing on the table. "This is all that is left."
"I'll hang the rest of the clothes myself. I would like for you all to leave."
"But, Lady Ri, you normally wish for me to display your new garments in elaboration after they're hung up." Enya explained.
"I can do that myself. Please, go." Gabrielle closed her eyes, massaging both her temples to impede the oncoming ache. "I have a lot on my conscience and want some privacy."
With a nod towards her attendants, the demurred seamstress conceded to what Gabrielle proposed. The three women sorted through the heap of old clothes and carried their share to the threshold of Ri's chamber as Enya tarried at the rear in deep consternation over Gabrielle's disposition.
Once her companions departed the room, the dressmaker pronounced to them, "Head back to the Tailor Chamber. I'll be there momentarily."
The females acceded, conveying their items of clothing to the destination that was avowed. When Gabrielle heard the door shut, she'd opened her aqua orbs, only to become irritated at ascertaining that she wasn't solitary.
"You don't look like Ri." Enya said.
The cropped-blonde's heart pulsed rapidly, and she grew concerned that her chicanery was foiled before it had begun. She wasn't getting locked in a dungeon like her prescience foretold. Readying her warrior skill set to incapacitate the woman and any other person who dared to challenge her, Gabrielle's footsteps propelled her forward.
Unaware of the menace coming her way, Enya expounded, "I know we aren't friends compared to you and Iona, but we are well acquainted. I should caution you that the Chancellor will be most upset about you cutting your hair. He's already disappointed that you chose not to attend Athens Academy. I could see it on his face this morning when he requested for me to bring your clothes to you instead of loading them on the carriage that came to take you to the golden city. So which Dirae is it?"
Gabrielle halted her progression, adding Iona's name and the title of Chancellor to the list of unknown people. "What?"
"Is it Alecto, Megaera, or Tisiphone?"
'The Furies? Dirae must be their appellation on this world.' Gabrielle formulated. "I'm not possessed. What I decide to do is my business. So keep out of it."
"But..." Enya's equivocation on telling Gabrielle what would be whispered about her, faltered. "Many of the denizens will... They'll think your short hair will symbolize that you're a slave to the Realm... Some might say you are in bondage to the Conqueror herself."
Gabrielle's mood had darkened at not only the provocative enunciation, but the mentioning of her soul mate's older twin. "I am no-one's slave... Get the hell out of my chamber."
There were no mistaken Gabrielle's asperity and Enya fell to her knees, entreating, "Eh, Lady Ri. I'm sorry for my words. They weren't meant to insult you. I'll be most thankful to you if you'd forgive me and do not apprise the Chancellor or the Conqueror of my transgression. Please."
Gabrielle was mystified from observing the seamstress groveling at her feet. The spectacle made her incurious about what kind of power Ri held inside the castle.
'Anyi? Inyo? Enya...' Gabrielle had some trouble recalling her name. "Enya, stand up, you're forgiven..."
"Thank you, Lady Ri." She stood and bowed.
"And you have my gratitude for conveying the new clothes here. I'm sure they are lovely." The Amazon uttered.
Gabrielle's fluctuating kindness gave Enya incentive to exit the room. "Have a great day, Lady Ri."
Gabrielle didn't give a response as Enya speedily exited the chamber. Next, the trim Samurai reclined on the bed, nursing a pounding headache that had increased after what happened with the dressmaker. The kimono-clad blonde scolded her obdurate actions, she just couldn't put up with an individual at the moment while wild thoughts on all that had befallen her and Xena remained fresh.
She did understand now that she'd have to learn how to portray Ri in every way, even if that extended to acting like a servant, though she would need to work on her curtsey. Wanting to thrash a person or verbally abuse them for being outspoken would serve to cause problems and had to be obliterated from cognition.
Covering her aching forehead with a hand, Gabrielle groused, "Being incognito is gonna be harder than I'd imagined."
To Be Continued...