The Conqueror & Ri: A Twist of Destiny

by Ahkiken

Companion to (Xena & Gabrielle: A Turn of Fate) The Conqueror of the Realm, Ruler of the Grecian Empire, has brought peace to its lands after 9 years of internal war. With a battle on the horizon, she gives a farewell gift to Ri, the woman she secretly loves, triggering events to transpire. Thus forcing her to come into contact with a stranger from another world, who looks like Ri.

35. Illumination

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. I'd like to thank my readers and my Beta, Jinxie 2013. A shout out to luckdog; I hope you continue to enjoy. :)

The Conqueror & Ri,

A Twist of Destiny,

By, Ahkiken

Chapter 35: Illumination

Shutting the bathroom door, Gabrielle scanned its area, not recalling a latrine amongst the decorative tub. However, she did notice her drenched, sky blue kimono still lied on the floor, and picked it up, setting the robe on the rack to dry.

Continuing her search, Gabrielle's bladder and cogitation screeched at her, 'I have to hurry! Find the latrine and get out of here, before Iona decide to go in the closet. I can't afford for her to detect the yin-yang chakram.'

Trekking over to the bathtub and surmising that it could be used as a toilet, because it had a drainage, she was about to step inside to relieve herself, 'til she espied another closed entryway. Rushing to the door and opening it, sunlight shined through the small window, brightening the small facility, permitting Gabrielle to see the latrine and a surface-mounted washbowl adjacent to it. Analyzing the toilet, she saw water whirling inside of it, periodically flushing down an aperture, only to refill and restart its whirl again.

Diverting her attention, the Amazon noticed that the plain, porcelain washbowl had handles on it, similar to the ones connected to the tub. She also noted the silver stand beside it had items atop it; minted leaves for teeth cleaning as well as a breath-freshener, a couple of scented soaps, and massive amounts of papyrus that were extremely soft, which Gabrielle quickly discerned what it was utilized for.

'Beats pottery discs from Rome and foliage off of bushes any day.' Gabrielle mused, putting the papyrus down to commence taking care of her personal business.

Meanwhile, outside the bath chamber, Iona was still seated at the table like Gabrielle had commanded her to. The teenager's bafflement by that caused her wonderment about her best friend's behavior.

'Ri has cut her hair shorter and won't let me be privy of the choices she's made concerning not going to Athens or the removal of the necklace that the Conqueror had given to her.' Iona ruminated. 'Then she forces me to sit in this chair whilst she uses the latrine, as if I'm some petulant child!'

Becoming disconcerted, it impelled her decision to vacate the seat and do whatever she pleased, whether that was going in Ri's closet or not. Nonetheless, the unusual tone of the cropped blonde resounded in Iona's mind, compelling her to stay where she was. Granted, the warrior-in-training wasn't afraid of Ri, but she didn't want to take any chances triggering her incensement again.

Moments later, Gabrielle exited the bath chamber with a genuine, jubilant expression. After relieving herself and brushing her teeth with the minty leaves, she felt refreshed.

"Alrighty, I'm ready to go."

Seeing Gabrielle's jovial outlook, Iona was reassured that her self-proclaimed sister remained unaltered at heart. Next, she fully descried her appearance, realizing that the look wouldn't do without minor adjustments.

"Ri, maybe you should get your sandals on." Iona apprised her, and while Gabrielle nodded her agreement, she added, "Take out a sash to tie your tunic, too."

"Okay." The Samurai assented, traversing to the compartment that held the materials she required.

Comfortable that Iona couldn't peek into it, Gabrielle opened the closet. Assuaged that Xena's chakram wasn't disturbed, she hastily grabbed a pair of black sandals, including a green-colored sash.

As she prepared to close the door, the long-haired blonde glimpsed the band and protested, "No, not that one... Surely Enya brought you various colors, choose another that'll match with your orange tunic, Ri."

Gabrielle repressed an annoyed grumble and ceded, albeit, disgruntled. Entering once more, she switched the green sash for its ebony-colored counterpart. Prior to closing the closet, she showed it to Iona for her inspection of approval. Thus getting a rigorous nod from her, the bard had shut the door to begin adorning both the foot ware and the cloth-like belt.

"All right." This time, Gabrielle's grin was forced. "Let's go."

"Nope, you need to do something else, Ri." Iona rebutted.

"What now?" She inquired, having grown exacerbated.

Iona walked towards the vanity table, grasping the comb and hairbrush. "We gotta straighten that bed-hair."

"Of course." Gabrielle easily concurred, but internally, she screamed her irritation.

{C&R}

Awakening and feeling groggy, the Prince's eyelids were slit open, but Helios' rays made him shield his orbs from its intense brightness. Inhaling sharply because of the immense headache that reminded him of his over-indulgence at the Banquet Hall, he laggardly shied away from the offending light. Rolling onto his side and using the fur to cover himself, Lyceus tried to piece together what occurred last night, but, hindered by the aftereffects of being soused, his memories drew a temporary blank. While he debated on summoning the groom to assist him or returning to sleep, Lyceus heard two voices beyond his bedroom.

"The Prince remains slumbering, Chancellor. He was strongly intoxicated upon his arrival back-"

"You don't have to inform me about his disposition." Meleager interjected. "Once I depart, draw him a bath."

"Yes, Chancellor." The man-servant obeyed, opening Lyceus' bedchamber door, descrying that he was awake. "My Prince, sorry to bother you, but you have an important visitor."

The Regent of the Realm barged passed the groom, taking in the pitiful state of Lyceus. The Conqueror's younger brother looked haggard, as he rested on the bed, wearing the same outfit from the night before. His hair surpassed being unruly, also.

Snatching the cup out of the groom's grasp, Meleager decreed, "Leave us."

The servant bowed, exiting the room. Once the door closed, the Chancellor doused Lyceus' face with the cold water, stunning him and forcing his pupils to widen in shock.

"Look at yourself!" Meleager berated him. "Have you lost your senses? What in Tartarus were you thinking getting drunk in front of our guests, warriors, and denizens?!"

"Please, Meleager..." He inertly entreated, ducking his head under the blanket. "It feels like my brain is an anvil and Lord Vulcan's hammer is pounding metal against it, especially when you yell."

"I'm not at fault, Lyceus!" Meleager yanked the fur off of him. "Your intemperance is the blame!"

Howbeit, wet and uncomfortable, Lyceus' repose was ineluctable, whilst he listened to the Chancellor fuss at him.

"All your life I'd warned you of consuming spirits, yet you've chose to wallow in it, similar to a drunkard. You have overslept and missed judging the Agora, so surmise who had to be a substitution in your stead?"

Lyceus bit the rhetorical bait, "You."

"Damn right!" The Chancellor blared, causing Lyceus to wince from the loudness. "Damn right! And because of your thoughtless choice to get wasted, the War Room conference got delayed! You'd asserted that you wanted to take a more active role in government, but I can distinguish now that you aren't ready!"

Recouping from his recoil, due to Meleager's shouting, the Prince understood what the Chancellor was implying and started apologizing profusely, "Forgive me... I'm so sorry. I screwed up... I... I won't drink anymore alcohol. I swear it... Please. Please, forgive me."

Reminiscent of Ri's slight inebriation, the Chancellor's aggravation gave way to bitter commiseration for the hung-over Prince. "Well, as long as you have learnt your lesson... After taking the bath that your groom will prepare for you, just relax, Lyceus, and drink plenty of water; it'll be a fulcrum for your recovery. I expect you to be capable to adjudge the Agora tomorrow."

"I will, Meleager." He acceded ecstatically. "Thank you, sir."

Having faith that the Prince would strive to retain his responsibilities in the Realm, Meleager's belligerence evaporated. "Count your blessings that you didn't make a spectacle out of yourself."

"Yeah." Lyceus murmured, his cognition bestowing a glimpse.

'That's discourteous... Ri... Ri... Don't be rude to your Prince.'

Massaging his temples, Lyceus grunted, fighting off the ceaseless pangs in his head, and initiated an unproductive attempt to regain traces of the memory that he'd concisely recalled.

Meleager became worried. "Lyceus, are you okay? Do you feel the urge to throw up?"

"No... It's only my cranium. It wants to explode from this gods be damned pain."

"Glad to hear it. You're getting taught something valuable; no more spirits!" The Regent purposely bellowed and left the chamber.

Slamming the door behind him, Meleager had little sorrow for Lyceus' wails of torment.

{C&R}

Leaving the storyteller's residence proved challenging. It had taken Iona several candle-drips to style Gabrielle's hair, arranging it backwards to flaunt her facial features and ears. Also, it took an extra few minutes, because the juvenile tried persuading the Amazon into wearing another attire altogether, but Gabrielle announced she was satisfied with the garment she'd chosen and wasn't planning to dither on the idea of changing. Now, they were juxtaposing each other, traipsing the halls of the Corinthian castle to an unknown locale for lunch. Numerous guards and denizens gaped at the bard's chopped mane, which was a so-called bondage haircut, but she ignored them, wondering more on how they were regarding her facade identity.

While being the centered attraction, Gabrielle was cognizant of the castle's gothic interior that received its lighting from spaced out windows and the hanging lanterns from the ceilings. She perceived that the elaborate designs on the walls shaped out mythological creatures, such as the winged-horse, Pegasus, contending with a Chimera, an odd animal with a lion's head, a goat's body, and a serpent's tail, all amalgamated into a terrible, fire-breathing, monstrosity.

Gazing at multiple etchings of tridents, Gabrielle pondered were there any portraits or paintings of the absent Lord of the Realm in the castle. 'Surely the Conqueror would've decorated the place with her image, too.'

Dropping the thought, the petite pretender grew concerned, hoping that once she does come face-to-face with the Conqueror, the Ruler of Greece won't have the sapience to unveil her disguise. Getting arrested and thrown in a dungeon wasn't on Gabrielle's list of things to do. She'd rather have Xena's twin stare silently at her like most of the people she and Iona were passing, than becoming discovered.

Next, Iona linked their arms and leaned on the older blonde to whisper, "They're gawking. Is it making you uncomfortable?"

"No." Gabrielle was half-honest. "I knew they probably would, but it's not affecting me one iota."

Iona smiled to convey her acceptance of the reply. During the Cronus when she combed and brushed Gabrielle's flaxen strands, she couldn't stop noticing it had the semblance of white-gold, in lieu of its usual strawberry-blonde coloring. She had recollections of how soft it felt in her hands, resisting the yearning to touch it now.

Studying her visage, Iona declared, "You look so different, Ri, yet the same. Just older... Much more matured."

Gabrielle tittered and caressed her short, golden fleece. "What a difference cropped hair can make, huh?"

"Yeah! A huge disparity in contrast to your long-haired appearance." Iona responded. "Did you snip it yesterday night, after your performance in the Banquet Hall?"

"Yes." Gabrielle was laconic.

"I know you've said that you wanted a dissimilar look, but why did you choose to..." Catching a glance of Ri's tutor, Iona abruptly halted her question. "Come on, Ri."

"What's going on, Iona?" Gabrielle became mystified, whilst the teen tugged on their interlaced appendages, hastening down the corridors. "I haven't forgotten that you have a class soon, but do we really need to storm through the hallways?"

Slowing their walk, Iona expounded, "It's true that I won't be able to spend a lot of Cronus with you, because of our drawn-out deliberation over your clothes. Nevertheless, that's not the reason for making haste like Mercury."

"You're fond of saying Mercury, Iona. Is that your favorite person?" Gabrielle goaded.

"Are you testing me? He isn't a mortal. Mercury is the messenger god, and the fastest of their pantheon." She chortled, but composed herself to seriously aver, "The gods aren't human, and you know better than to mock them, Ri."

'Mercury is the equivalent of Hermes. Perhaps Selene is a goddess, also.' Gabrielle derived, looking at Iona to espy her frowning. "What?"

"You didn't see your Master?"

Gabrielle forcefully detached her arm from Iona's, ceasing their stroll to ask, "Who is my master?"

Dispelling her incredulity, 'cause of Gabrielle's request, Iona began explicating, "Your instructor, remember? That senile asshole is lurking the halls, plausibly seeking to lie and coax trouble for a poor soul, like he did to you."

"Oh." She mouthed, and answered the teen's query, "No, I hadn't seen him."

"Sorry for mentioning it." Iona was penitent, hooking their arms once more and resumed walking. "We will not let Master Eramus disrupt our midday meal."

'Eramus is Ri's teacher, and may have been the causation for her punishment by the Chancellor.' Gabrielle guessed, matching footfalls with Iona's, while ruminating on gaining further illumination, anent to her doppelganger's life and the location they were heading to. "I'm not allowing Master Eramus to upset our ti... Cronus together. By the way, are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"Nah-uhh. It's a surprise." Iona led Gabrielle onwards.

"Great." The bard huffed, mentally yelling her vexation. "I love surprises."

{C&R}

Glaphyra had awoken from her nap and decided to ascertain the progress of the vessel's voyage, as she departed the threshold of her private cabin. Missing her family, she hoped that the ship had already threaded out the Cretan Sea and were closer to the Corinthian Gulf. She cogitated on what her husband was doing and how their daughter's grades were panning out in her architecture class, wishing that she was home alongside them.

Proud that Iona's future could incur her to become something differential to a warrior, she was flustered from the younger girl's inspiration to follow in her parents' tracks, because of Lieutenant Tessa's weapons display in Clydmus' classroom. The General felt confidant Darnelle would rescind his acquiescence for Iona and corroborate with her to prevent their beautiful child from choosing that career goal.

Trudging the ship's interior, Glaphyra's retention sifted to her husband's enviousness of not getting selected for the Conqueror's objective. 'Are you still mad that I was appointed this mission, Darnelle? Wait until you hear the story I'm gonna recite to ya.'

Glaphyra and the remnants of her soldiers were lucky to have survived their assignment to Crete. They were horrendously outnumbered by Brutus and Cassius' Roman Legions. Notwithstanding the Conqueror's prevalent fortitude for tactics and unique capabilities, had it not been for the twist of fortune that Brutus was cowered by her Liege's prevarication, his retaliation for the loss of two battalions would've devastated the remaining Sixth Army's contingent, annihilating them. Neither would have the Conqueror got excluded from imminent defeat and death.

Imparting that the gamble had paid off and impertinently snubbing the Conqueror's denial of being a gambler, caused Glaphyra's curt dismissal from the Lord of the Grecian Realm's presence. Knowing she was wrongful for brazenly highlighting her Liege's venture, Glaphyra scurried away, feeling that the Conqueror was equally incongruous for placing her troops in grave peril. Bringing one hundred-forty-nine warriors to conceivably confront thousands of adversaries had stilted the General's conscience from the beginning, only to have her concernment get respectfully disregarded by the raven and silver-haired woman.

'We'll be fine, General Glaphyra. That is why I required the greatest of your fighters. The Sixth Army is supreme when it comes to a phalanx formation, thanks to you.'

Remembering the Conqueror's extol, before they had set sail from Corinth, Glaphyra groused, 'Tell that to the twenty-seven Greeks who are in Elysium.'

Temporarily casting aside her dead comrades, she looped a corner and spotted Gagius making his exit out of a lodging and closing its door.

Espying her, he greeted, "Good afternoon, General."

"To you, as well." She returned, moving towards him and acknowledging his injured forearm. "How are you?"

"I'm okay." Raising his bandaged arm, Gagius admitted, "It's only a scratch compared to the others who are severely hurt."

"I'm blithe that you're all right." Conveying earnestness, Glaphyra squeezed his shoulder, then started to traipse to her intended destination.

Gagius queried, "Are you looking for the Conqueror, General?"

"No." Glaphyra uttered.

"Well, if you need her, she's inside the cabin I'd departed."

The disclosure intrigued Glaphyra. "What is she doing in there?"

"After finishing her rounds with the wounded and the healthy soldiers, the Conqueror came to unburden me from watching over Turel. An arrow pierced his neck during the Romans' ballistic assault." Gagius elucidated. "She told me to get some rest, but I think the Conqueror wants to be alone with him, because she's infatuated."

Glaphyra's hackles surged. "Save the gossip, Gagius."

"It is true. Turel evinced that the Conqueror was smitten with him and I didn't give him any credence." Gagius began smiling. "But observing how she was affectionately caressing his head, prior to my departure, I'm convinced that those two will be together when he heals."

Thoroughly flabbergasted by Gagius' exposition, Glaphyra was rendered speechless. The Conqueror did confide in her that she was attracted to a soldier, but assuredly the Lord of Greece wasn't alleging to Turel. Throughout the course of their journey to Dia, she'd appeared agitated by him, than anything else.

'Perchance she was nervous around him, overwhelming her attraction with a guise of perturbation.' Glaphyra reckoned, hardly believing her own divulgement. "Speak of this to no-one. We don't want our Lord's love life to become subjected to childish rumors, do we?"

"No we don't, General." Gagius conceded.

"As you were." Glaphyra ordained, letting the man carry on to wherever he'd planned to find relaxation.

Gagius saluted her and trotted to the room he shared with some of his compatriots. Next, Glaphyra peered at the room that the Conqueror and Turel occupied, deeply interested in what was possibly happening within its barred confines. Ditching her curiosity, she traversed to the top deck to inquisition the helmsmen about the vessel's proximity to the Corinthian Gulf.

To Be Continued...