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Chapter Text

Why is the sea so calm?

The sun shone on her armour. A light wind whipped the stray hairs around her face. Somewhere a gull cried out. Such a normal day, except for the dead Athenian bouncing in the waves and the silent tears streaming down Kassandra's cheeks.

Kleon was dead. Her mission complete. Yet the misthios was frozen to the wet sand staring out across the Aegean. She could not turn and retrace her steps to the battlefield. He was waiting there, and she knew the future she once thought possible died with one thrust of a spear.

So many memories. Korinth, that first time she saw him through the flames. He was magnificent, and a true Spartan in every way. Only one other man had ever stirred her so, but that past was long over.

Maybe that was why she chose to kill the Monger quietly, away from public spectacle. She had actually agreed with Anthousa. Letting the Cultist's blood spill out before all of Korinth would have been a fitting end, but yet she found herself striding into a cave instead if a theater.

It was his smile. She had rationalized that decision in Korinth over and over, but now she could admit it to herself. It was what he wanted, and she was powerless to deny his wishes.

It had been the same in Arkadia. Her mother wanted Lagos dead, but Kassandra had convinced him to leave the Cult instead. And as they walked away from Fort Samikon, Myrrine had just smiled in that knowing way only a mother can.

‘You should tell him how you feel.’

But as always, he was one step ahead of her.

In the still of that triumphant night on the road back to Sparta, he came to her. Words were whispered, touches shared, and promises made.

So many promises. So many memories. Now shattered like the waves breaking on the Makedonian shore. But the one that pained her the most, the one that had her cheeks stained and eyes red, was the one made just one night ago.

‘You know, I must marry soon. It is the law in Sparta, and my honored duty to choose a wife.’ She had lifted her head from his chest at those words. Her eyes searching his for an answer she already knew. ‘Tomorrow when the battle is won and Kleon lies dead, come home with me. Come home with me to Sparta.’

She had never been able to say no to him.

“Brasidas….” she whispered his name to the sea as she wiped away her tears. There would be time to mourn, years to mourn her loss, but for now she had a purpose. Vengeance was often the best cure.

“I think I will pay my little brother a visit.” Her grip tightened on her grandfather's spear as she turned towards the docks. Her face hardened as she set out for the Andrestia.

I will return to Sparta, but it is not home without you.

Chapter Text

Kassandra felt nothing as her spear drove through Alexios. No. His name is Diemos. Alexios is long gone. She had expected… something. Some emotion to surface. With Nikolaos she had felt relief. Closure. A touch of vengeance for the innocence stolen away by the man who was supposed to protect her most. Stentor was just pity. Sadness for a young man's life cut too short by misplaced rage.

But now, there was just an empty void of nothingness inside her. The determination that had driven her from Makedonia to Sparta died with the spilled blood on the mountain.

“Lamb.” Her mother's voice was soft with tears as her hand found Kassandra's. She was not sure who was comforting whom, but they both took some solace in the touch as they stared across Lakonia from the edge of Mt. Taygetus.

“I'm sorry mother but I couldn't….” Kassandra tried to break the silence. She wanted to make Myrrine understand why she had done it. Deimos had to die. He had to pay. This was justice. He had taken more from her than even Nikolaos had.

But it still does not bring him back.

That truth rose like bile in her stomach. She sank to her knees. Grief overtaking for the first time since she left that broken shore. She had cried that day, but it was just a brief glimpse into the pain she now allowed to engulf her.

Then, her mother was there. Strong arms wrapped around Kassandra and cradled her as they had when she was a young child. Myrrine understood loss. She greeted it as an old friend, though unwelcomed. And while she shed tears for the death of her son, they also fell for the suffering she could not save her daughter from now.

“There there, Lamb,” she cooed as she patted Kassandra's back and placed a kiss to her forehead. “From the moment I first held you, I knew. You were sent by the gods to protect this world...and you did.”

“But it cost me everything that I loved,” Kassandra whispered.

Images of baby Alexios flashed first. Her holding him so tight for fear of dropping him. Mother singing him to sleep in the quiet of their home. The great man he would have become, instead of the monster she threw off the cliff.

Then Phoibe. The young girl running in Kephallonia with her wooden eagle held over her head. She had always wanted an eagle, just like Ikaros. And now, it was too late for Kassandra to keep her promise of asking Zeus for one.

And Brasidas….

It was as if her mother could follow her thoughts. “He was a good man, my Lamb. A Spartan in every way.” The woman sighed as she undid the bindings holding Kassandra's braid together, running her fingers through her daughter's hair as she had done so many years ago in happier times. “There is nothing I can say that can heal you. Love never allows us to forget the pain of losing someone dear, but time does make it easier to bear.”

In the silence that stretched between them, Kassandra examined her mother's words. The flow of tears finally began to slow, and she felt strong enough to lift her head from Myrrine's shoulder. She found sad understanding in the eyes staring back at her, a knowing of what lay ahead for the young woman.

Myrrine had spent years carrying on despite losing her son and daughter. She had lived many lives since the last time they had stood in this cursed place, only to endure more suffering at the hands of cruel fate.

I sound like Barnabas now, talking about fate. She could not help smiling at the thought of the old sailor. He and Herotodos had been the father's she deserved, and the friends she needed most through these last few years. Sharing her journeys across Greece, and supporting her whenever she needed them.

“What are you thinking about, my Lamb?” There was genuine curiosity in Myrinne's voice at the growing smile on Kassandra's lips.

“It is nothing,” she dismissed. Such a happy memory had no place on this mountain of death, or maybe it did. “I...I was thinking about my escape from prison in Athens. I had killed the guards, and then Barnabas and Sokrates rushed in wielding shovels and pitchforks like they were going to beat the entire Athenian army to get to me!” She could not help the laugh that spilled out from her then. It was one of her fondest memories, and one of the funniest to tell while everyone already had a cup of wine or two in them.  

Myrrine chuckled at the story, then her face softened as her hand came to rest on her daughter's cheek. “Hold onto those memories, my dearest Kassandra. There will be times that the pain will try to engulf you, but do not allow it.” She spoke those last words with such force, such conviction in them. Kassandra felt them as if the were a spear to her heart.

“I will try, mater,” she promised.

“I know you will. I have all the faith in the world in you.” Myrrine kissed her daughter's forehead one last time before rising to her feet. She held out her hand for Kassandra to join her, and the misthios took it and stood beside the only family she had left.

“Let's go home, my Lamb.” Kassandra only nodded as they started the journey back to Mt. Taygetus, the sun fading low as they walked in comfortable silence. She did not have the heart to tell her mother that the house they had fought so hard for wound never be home without Brasidas. 

Chapter Text

Their dinner that night was a simple affair. Myrrine mostly filled in the silence with stories of her time at sea, or her years spent leading Naxos. Kassandra nodded at the appropriate places, but did not offer much more than a forced laugh or quiet word.

I am losing her again, Myrinne thought to herself with an inward frown. She knew all too well that as the night grew darker, so did the darkness inside a broken heart.

She has not had time to grieve, Myrrine. Just give her time. She is strong. She kept herself in check as she offered Kassandra more bread which she declined, a plate of mostly untouched food already before her. Now, she really did frown as she looked from the plate to the hollow face of her daughter.

The misthios was staring outside the small window of their home, her eyes fixed intently on something illuminated by the light of the full moon. She appeared lost in something, a memory perhaps. Myrrine could only hope it was a happy one. Life had not been kind to any of them, and she knew that Brasidas had been Kassandra's one true happiness.

Her hope for a better future.

He had been all that and more for Kassandra. He was her chance at a normal life, and a chance to start a new family. Myrrine knew her daughter carried a heavy burden, not only for the lives she had taken, but also for the one she had lost so many years ago.

That night on Mt. Taygetus had been impossibly dark, but Myrrine had to see for herself. She needed to see them and grieve for the lives lost. It had been easy enough to get away from Nikolaos. He was lost in his own mind, staring blankly into the distance with a solemn look on his face. She could never forgive her husband for what happened that night, but there would be time later to deal with him.

She did not even remember the path down the mountain. Her thoughts had been consumed by so much pain. Both of her children had been torn from her, and she debated ending her life where their's was lost.

It seemed like an eternity until she reached the bottom of the mountain, her eyes scanning in fear of what she would find there.

And then, she heard it.

The cry was weak. At first, Myrrine thought she was imagining the low whine coming from a bush a few feet away. But when it came again, Hades himself could not have stopped her from running to where Alexios lay hidden.

She wept for her baby. So much blood. So many injuries. She cradled him to her chest as she cooed to him. Trying to soothe his pain the only way she could.

Her only thought had been getting Alexios out of there and to safety, to find someone to heal him. She was ashamed now to admit she had abandoned Kassandra, but she had thought her daughter dead. At least with Alexios, she had a chance to save him.

“My poor lamb…” she whispered as she stared at the grown woman now sitting before her. She had failed her that night, but she did not intend to fail her again.

*****

Kassandra had gone to bed when Myrrine asked her to, mostly because she was tired of her mother's worried looks in her direction. The whole dinner had been tense to say the least, and she had been more than happy when it finally ended. How was she supposed to return to a normal life now after all that had happened? 

She lay staring up at the ceiling trying to answer her own questions. She knew her body was tired, but her mind could not rest. There was only one person left who deserved the vengeance of her blade. She tried to focus on how to slowly and painfully kill Aspasia, but her mind kept drifting to the tree in front of her home. She had stared at it through most dinner, her mother's words fading into the background until they were nothing but a dull hum. 

She sighed as she finally gave up any hope of keeping her mind away from her memories. She had to go out there, to relive that day that seemed like it was ages ago.

Moving silently was her specialty, and she dressed quickly in her armour before sneaking outside to the waiting moonlight.

Just like that night, she thought to herself as she stopped beneath the branches of the olive tree and reached out one hand to touch it's trunk. Nikolaos had planted the tree when she was born, and it had grown sturdy in the years since. As her fingers traced the rough bark, she allowed herself to to fall into the waiting arms of her memories.

Brasidas had come earlier in the day to request her presence at the Battle of Pylos. Kassandra had of course agreed, not only because it was the Spartan thing to do, but also because it meant time spent with Brasidas.

“Someone has to keep you out of trouble,” she joked that night when he returned. He had been waiting beneath the olive tree in front of her home, their special meeting spot. Myrrine had been kind enough to pretend to sleep as Kassanda snuck outside to meet her lover. They got so few moments alone together, and the misthios cherished every one of them.

“I seem to remember things differently than you,” he laughed as he twirled the end of her braid between his fingers. “Or maybe I did not save you from a burning warehouse in Lechaion.”

His other arm was secured around her waist as she leaned against his armoured chest, and she took that moment to nip his bottom lip playfully as he reminded her of their first meeting. “I had that situation under control, though I cannot complain about the added help. Now if only you had been without clothes…”

Her last line produced a hearty laugh that extended to the brightness of his honey-coloured eyes. He tugged on her braid gently, and when she went to complain he caught her open mouth in soul searing kiss that had Kassandra breathless and dizzy.

When he finally pulled away, she whined from the loss of him. Fire was already dancing under her skin, but she had learned that Brasidas was a patient man. He took his time with all things.

“Maybe tonight I can make up for being overdressed on our first encounter,” he suggested with a coarse whisper against her ear that had her knees feeling weak. He knew what he did to her, how easily he could find her weaknesses and expose them for both of their pleasure. He never tired of seeing desire in her eyes, or feeling her fall apart in his arms.

“I- I will hold you to that promise,” she stammered as she tried regaining some control. By the gods, he could make a hetaera blush with the things he said. Not to mention the things he could do….

He merely smiled as he took her hand in his, kissing each fingertip before nuzzling her palm and breathing in her scent with a contented sigh. “Well I am always a man of my word, Eagle Bearer. Come. Let's go somewhere more private before the guards catch us, unless of course you think they would enjoy the show.”

She had rolled her eyes as Brasidas led her away in the quiet of the night, a night that even now she could not forget.

“Do I want to forget?” she asked herself.

She thought about all the nights they had laid together, all the battles they had fought side by side, and all the tender moments that she would never have again. Their love had stretched across years and the sea, over mountains and lands. It was as vast as the Greek world itself, and in that Kassandra knew her answer.

“No. Never.” Her mother had been right about one thing, love would never allow her to forget. 

And with that final thought she turned away as she whistled for Phobos. The pale horse came as he always did, stopping beside her and pawing the ground as he waited. Her mother belonged in Sparta, but there was only one place Kassandra felt she belonged.

“To Delphi, Phobos.” The horses neighed in agreement as Kassandra slipped into the saddle. There was one more Cultist to take care of, and then she would be free to return to the place where she could be with Brasidas once more.