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Chapter Text

“I want to meet him.”

Alexios says these dreaded words through apple chunks, efficiently spraying the table with juice. He collected the pieces and deposited them into his pocket. After this task is done, he looked at Kassandra, eyes seeking approval to become more involved in her life.

“No”, she says simply. “I don’t even know where he is.”

“Oh, c’mon. You could find him if you wanted to. Let me meet him.”

“He’s just a friend. Just a- just a good friend” she stammers, uncomfortable in light of the scrutiny. She wished she had never mentioned him, though it was truly just in passing. She’d seen a boar, unusual in this country, and told Myrrine of the time she’d last hunted one. Myrrine dismissed it, but Alexios had latched onto this tidbit, and used it to taunt Kassandra.

“Such a good friend” he mimicked. His joviality had improved markedly in the time since coming home from their time in Makedonia. It had only been a few months but the comfort of stability, and a constantly full stomach, had warmed him up.

“Shut up” said Kassandra, throwing a pear at him. He caught it, nodded to her in thanks, and bit into it. “That wasn’t a gift, and Stentor will be aggrieved that you ate his hard-won pears. He works so diligently for them.” Kassandra’s sarcasm was biting, and Alexios shrugged.

“I’ll fight him in single combat for them,” he laughed, but the smile did not reach his eyes. They both knew that his choice of a weakened body was a result of his asserted agency: his body was his own, and would grow soft by his hand. Since his visceral reaction at the farmhouse in Makedonia when he had taken an interrogation of a girl too far, and blamed the now uncomfortable feeling of his armour, he’d let both his training and strength taper off. But his experience of his past strength was still full, and mourned as a choice withheld. Stentor would well and truly beat him.

“You can meet him if he reaches the mainland, how that for compromise?” said Kassandra, retying her braid with a new piece of leather.

“Oh, so you admit there is someone to meet?”

“Hush, baby Alexios” she said authoritatively, and turned on her foot to escape the house just as a pear hit the wall where her head was moments before.

Kassandra rounded the corner of the house to where Phobos grazed fresh grass and breathed deeply. Her lungs felt constricted since the ‘anonymous’ letter had been received. She knew it was Darius’ hand, and she expected that he wanted her to know this. He was being careful, but if anything, him using his own hand showed his urgency. Urgency she knew she needed to heed.

It came from Achaia, a request for help. It didn’t specify how they needed help, but it was enough to make her heart cease movement. And that it had come from Darius, and not Natakas, made her ever the more nervous.

She walked into the room behind their house and found her saddlebags slung up onto the wall. She reached into an inner pocket, feeling for the parchment she’d been receiving fairly regularly since they’d returned from Makedonia. She wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get them to her, but she guessed that he was practiced at contacting people from the road. Her finger reached the depths of the bag, sliding along the rough edge of one of them. She pulled it out gently, pausing to listen for any company who may have thought to sneak up on her. With these she was private, not even telling Alexios of them. She knew that he would have a different reaction to her correspondence with the man who caused her to return to the danger of the Order stronghold than the joy Kassandra felt.

Satisfied that she was alone, Kassandra unfurled the note.

Why was Makedonia disliked by Persia?

I don’t know, Natakas, why was Makedonia disliked by Persia?

Because Makedonia was Hellas mean.

Kassandra smiled a small smile at the worst joke she’d ever read, knowing part of the joy for him was her eye rolling reactions. She wondered if she’d ever actually told him that Leonidas was her grandfather, or if he’d have sent this particular joke if he’d known.

Yet another question to ask him. She’d add it to the mental list. She didn’t know where he was, and couldn’t lose Ikarus to search for him for the extended time it would likely take. She felt her shoulders draw down in familiar disappointment, and curled the note back into shape. Her hand reached to replace it into the saddlebags when a small bit of ink on the back caught her eye. She unfurled the note again, expecting to find the ink from the front having leached through to the back.

Instead, she found Natakas’ clean, steady hand written fluidly on the reverse side of the joke.

I miss you. I’ll try and find my way to you soon.

Kassandra’s heart leaped at the thought, and the danger of the thought. Him, here, in Lakonia. Near her. Without their quests of killing Order members. Then her mind turned to when she’d received this note compared to when Darius’ had reached her. There was about a month between them, with a few weeks between each of Natakas’ notes. She hadn’t received anything from Natakas for five or so weeks. Her panic rose with each mental calculation, her mind quickly convincing itself that the urgency in Darius’ note partnered with Natakas’ relative silence pointed to only one thing.

Natakas was separated from his father, and likely in danger.

Kassandra shook her head, trying to clear the constant buzzing in her ears. Since she’d realised that Alexios’ proximity caused her nerves to tingle, they’d not stopped while he was near. Though she was grateful for the connection to her brother, she couldn’t stand it while she was trying to concentrate.

She picked out the other notes that Natakas had sent her over the past six months. She collected them into her hand and went over them with fervour, looking for anything that might point to his location at sending. Different people had delivered them to her, and when asked, they’d said that others had passed them on, with the notes passing through three or so hands before reaching her. Everyone knew the Eagle Bearer. One had a spray of sea water, but they were in Hellas, and that could mean anything.

None of them had secret notes on the back that she missed, and none of them appeared to be coded in any way. Kassandra sighed, slumping to the floor of the room. She heard silence for the first time in hours: her brother must have gone out of the house. She looked at the six notes in her hand, and at the message on the reverse of the last one.

I’ll find my way to you soon.

Received five weeks ago. Was he travelling to her? Would Natakas tell Darius of his plans? Maybe, maybe not. Darius maybe had an inkling of how well Kassandra travelled and worked with his son. Or on the other hand, he may not have the faintest clue. Kassandra definitely wasn’t shy, and she knew that her and Natakas were openly and overtly flirting with Darius around.

Kassandra shook her head again. She was becoming distracted.

What she knew was that Darius had an urgent matter in Achaia. She knew that Natakas had sent her a message more than a month ago that he would try to come to Lakonia. At most, there were three weeks between Natakas and Darius sending their respective notes to her.

Kassandra knew what her heart hoped: that Natakas was on his way to Lakonia, hadn’t told Darius, and Darius then thought him missing.

Kassandra also knew the worst case scenario: that Natakas was in real danger, and not on his way here, and she was wasting time sitting in her shed.

She stood up and dusted off her chiton. She replaced the notes back into her saddlebags and turned to the house. As she walked past the garden, she stopped by her mater.

“I have a job,” she said to her mother. Myrrine was kneeling in the dirt, tending to her herbs. She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun with her open palm.

“But you just got back, lamb,” she replied. “What kind of job?”

“One that can’t wait. I’m sorry, but I have to leave this afternoon.”

Her mother nodded sagely, and returned to her garden. Kassandra had only taken on small jobs, errands mainly, since she and Alexios returned from their ordeal in Makedonia. It was part fear, part exhaustion, and part avoiding having to tell her mother that she was leaving again.

She trudged upstairs to pack her things, not quite sure what to take. Her weapons were clean and sharp, resting in the corner. Her eyes lighted on some spare medical supplies, and she shoved them into her pack. Her nervousness was leading to impulsiveness, and rather than systemically ensuring that she was prepared for the trip, she found herself throwing everything into her bag.

She whistled to Ikarus, and waited for him to enter the window. She fed him a small piece of dried lamb, and sent him out to search the northern roads for Natakas, just in case. How long was the trip from Achaia, anyway? Four weeks? If her best-case was true, he’d be close enough for Ikarus to have a fair search and return within a few hours.

She threw her bag onto her bed roll and sat down. She needed to speak to Alexios before she could leave anyway. She probed the tingle which announced his presence, and found him out of reach.

She put her head in her hands and tried to further collect her thoughts, but her nervous energy overwrought her. Her hands trailed through her hair, leaving scratch marks on her scalp, just as her knees knocked together at an unsteady pace, mimicking her ragged breathing.

She was sitting when she felt the initial whisper of her brother returning, and headed downstairs. She sat at the table, and tried to train her face. She didn’t want him worrying, and didn’t want to give him justification for following her. Her pack was as packed as it would ever be, and she would leave for the north right after she’d spoken to him.

She heard him laughing at something their mother told him, and warmed at the thought. Inconceivable just a few short years ago. He entered the house holding a new knife and some olive wood, likely in order to practice his carving. He looked at her, startled at her formal stance.

“What’s wrong?” was the first thing he said. She silently cursed, annoyed that he could see through her so well.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just need a favour,” she replied. She stood, taking the knife off him and examining it.

He lifted his chin and stared at her. Though they were the same height, Alexios had the ability to make her feel shorter.

“What kind of favour?” he asked, suspicious.

“Just an information one. I need you to try and stay home as much as you can in the next few weeks.” She handed the knife back to him. “I think someone may be coming here for me. I’ll try and meet them on the road, but if we miss each other, they’ll be coming here and I want them to feel -” she paused, trying to find the right word. Not welcome, not comforted, not entertained. “- hospitality.” She looked at her brother’s deepening confusion.

“Why are you telling me and not mater or Nicklaus? This isn’t my house, after all?”

“I’m telling you, brother, because once you find out who it is, you’ll likely be the biggest danger to him.”

Alexios’ mouth quirked at the slip of her use of the pronoun. This was no ordinary errand, or random messenger. And that in first instance she tried to hide behind the gender neutral moniker meant that it had significance. Of course, Alexios focused more on this fact, than the fact that he was a danger to the man.

There was, of course, many men that Alexios would harm given the chance. None of who Kassandra wouldn’t ask for first blood as well.

Except one.

“Natakas is coming here?” he blurted out, interrupting her.

Kassandra stopped speaking, and looked furious with him. But he knew that fire, it was protective rather than murderous.

“That fool can come if he wants, but he’ll have to answer for at least three of your scars and many of my grey hairs,” Alexios continued. “Kassandra, you could have died going back into that cave, and that man wants to come here? To our home? To do what, exactly? Get his head almost cut off and you almost killed? If he comes here, it means they’re not far behind.”

Kassandra let him speak his piece, knowing her interrupting would just inflame him. Once he seemed done, she sighed and calmly responded.

“He may be coming here. His messages are cryptic. But his father contacted me with urgency, and that he contacted me instead of Natakas makes me worry. There’s a chance he’s on his way here, there’s a chance he’s dead and Darius can’t find him. But I have to try.”

“Why,” Alexios asked, crossing his arms. “Why do you have to try? What’s so special about this bloke?”

Kassandra shuddered, hating the question. And it was none of Alexios’ business: she didn’t ask him his personal business with any of the people he shacked up with. She’d never even considered her anything more to Natakas than a friend, and someone that she’d completed a job with. She missed him, down to her bones she missed him, but it wasn’t anything more than like wanting like. Iron to the forge, wheat to the field.

“I’m not going to have this conversation with you, little brother. I’m going north with Phobos this afternoon. If he turns up in Sparta, send me word and be nice to him. He saved your life too.”

She shouldered her pack and headed out to Phobos. She hugged her mater as she passed, and wiped the tears from her wrinkled face.

As the sun set, Ikarus returned with indicators that seemed hopeful. She fed him a piece of meat, mounted Phobos, and rode out of their yard, following Ikarus north.

Chapter Text

Alexios didn’t watch her leave, but felt the sense of her drift away on the wind. The sun was setting on a brisk day, the breeze settling behind the trees, quieting the birds. He was still cranky about the whole exchange with Kassandra: his fists tensed up at the thought of it. He didn’t even know the man, neither did she by what she’d told him, so why was she risking herself again for him? Why couldn’t she just stay home, safe, with them?

Alexios fingered his braids, twisting them up into his scalp. His nervous energy channeled into the finicky nature of the task: twist, pull, twist, wrap, twist, tie.

His mater found him sitting in the main downstairs room, and gently touched his shoulder. He leaned into the touch and let his hair go free from his hands.

“I’m sure she will be ok, lamb. She’s strong,” Myrinne told him. She was looking out the window, towards the north. Her look was far from the room, and Alexios quietly questioned if she had a greater knowledge of what transpired in Makedonia than the siblings had agreed to tell her.

“Did she tell you where she was going?” he asked, trying to keep the temper from his voice. He hadn’t been this angry in a long time.

“No, she didn’t. And I didn’t ask.” Her eyes turned pointedly to Alexios. “And I’ve learnt not to.”

He huffed at her, and started absent-mindedly rubbing his fingers together in his lap. He had no idea how his mater just dismissed the dangers. Anything could be out there, all it took was an arrow she didn’t anticipate to make sure she didn’t come home.

Myrinne tapped him on the top of his head, bringing his attention back to her.

“I’ll encourage you to not think on it, Alexios. She comes back when she comes back, there’s no stopping her comings and goings. She always comes home.”

“Why do you think that? She’s been in dangers that you just couldn’t know! What if this is the time when she doesn’t come home?”

Myrinne looked at him through hooded eyes, contemplating her next words carefully.

“This may be the time she doesn’t come home, but that would be her choice. She’s the best in Hellas, maybe even this part of the world. She always comes home eventually.” Myrrine then turned and made her way to the garden.

Alexios simmered before coming to a decision. He knew, intellectually, that Kassandra could handle herself. He also knew that she could handle herself without him there. But he had grown used to her presence, and felt that she was an indisputable part of him: a part he would sorely miss and would tear the world apart to avenge.

She had given him a task, but he knew he could not complete it. He would have to follow her instead.

--------

Alexios left in the evening, when his step-brother and parents were sleeping. He had no doubt that at least one of them heard him leaving, just as he had no doubt that it would be impossible to fool all three of them. He packed his weapons, sans armour, and started running north.

After the sun had risen and the cock crowed did he spy her. He was almost to the edge of the mountains. Well, no. He first spied Ikarus, which meant that Ikarus likely also spied him and his game was at its end. But the bird wasn’t pointed at him, taking no notice of the Spartan. But he was looking for something, or someone.

Alexios climbed a rise to survey the road, and caught sight of his sister on Phobos. Though he’d been running, she would have had to have been dawdling an awful lot for him to have caught up. Her list with Phobos’ feet told him that she was likely asleep in the saddle. He watched her for a few moments. Despite her slumber, her stature on Phobos was of an overarching confidence, and deftness of hand. The world was at her mercy as it stood beneath her feet. No man nor child could resist walking into the sun, lest her word be what they finally hear.

As he was watching her, a small movement behind her caught his attention. Someone on foot was heading towards her, managing to escape her notice with small steps and deft feet. Alexios quickly scanned the sky for her eagle, but finding nothing to alert her to the danger, he cried out, desperately hoping she would hear him.

But too late. The figure pulled her to the ground, off her startled horse, and pulled her into a copse of trees to the west of the road. It happened so quickly, with Kassandra barely reacting at all.

Alexios was furious: at the incident, at Kassandra for sleeping on the road on her own, at himself for letting this happen. He charged down the hill, unsheathing his sword as he ran towards the shrubs that concealed her. He would save her, this time. And he’d make sure she never left without him again.

--------

Kassandra was surrounded by softness. Her hair was floating above her head like a divine crown, her limbs loose and easily manipulated by the waving current flowing both through and around her. She was at peace, finally, in the swirling netherworld of her forebears. The ease was disturbed, but only slightly, but a small call from outside the fuzz. She ignored it, nuzzling her head closer to the soft breeze blanketing her body.

Another, a louder call this time. She turned her head to it, decided it wasn’t worth the trouble, and dove further into her own head.

Then a lurch, a rude and unwelcome intrusion into her mindspace. She pushed back, eager to remain weightless and nestled. But something was holding her wrist; something was moving her away from the lightness surrounding her, and she felt her body fall to the ground.

Phobos was no longer beneath her and she was surrounded by prickles and thorns. Groaning outwardly at the inconvenience, and sure she had just slid from the saddle, she tried to move upwards. Her head still fuzzy, she didn’t unsheath a weapon.

A hand clapped over her face, and an arm relieved her of any intention she may have had to defend herself. She started struggling then: kicking a little, biting a little.

“Shhhh,” said a voice. “We can’t be followed.”

To say the voice piqued her interest was an understatement. She couldn’t quite remember the dream she was having, but she knew the voice was from it. Her body stilled, her struggle stopped, and she mouthed words which didn’t translate to sound.

Natakas?

“Just promise you won’t yell and I’ll release you, but we have to move now. You have a tail.”

She nodded agreement, and he removed his hand from her mouth. She turned to face him, and almost screamed without meaning too. She just looked at him: his eyes turned dark by the shadow, his hair grown longer by their time apart, his mouth curved into a small smile. I surprised you, it said.

He put his hand to his mouth in a sign for silence, and gestured her away from the road and further into the forest. She followed without thinking, so glad for him to simply be in the same countryside as her. All she could focus on was his feet, striding away from her. All sound around her ceased and her thoughts muddled, trying to comprehend what had happened.

“How did-”

“Shhh!”

“But what-”

“Shhh!!”

“I just want to-”

“Kassandra, can’t you hear the foot falls behind us?”

“I’m just-”

“Shhhhh!!”

She kept silent then, following him through creeks, over logs, into dense shrubs and past boulders. Her focus remained on him, and no other sounds entered her understanding: just the step, step, step, of Natakas leading her into dense country.

He suddenly turned back to her in a panic, and quickly pushed her into a cave only slightly too small for them. He blocked the entrance with his back, trying to remain as still as possible. His breath moved across her face, a warmth she thought she’d never feel again. The physicality of him surprised her: he was against her muscle for muscle, closer than he’d ever been, and he was idiotically preventing either of them forming a defensive posture against whatever threat he’d perceived. She allowed her senses leave, and breathed him in. This close, he smelled of cut grass and fur. He smiled slightly at her inhale, but it dropped quickly as he listened to whatever was following them.

She listened too, for the first time since she was unhorsed. Her ears heard feet, heavy, stopping then starting as if looking for them. As she came into the present completely since Natakas pulled her off Phobos, she sensed the tingle of her brother nearby.

“It’s Alexios,” she whispered as she attempted to push Natakas out of their hiding spot.

“No, this didn’t look like someone that could be your brother. They had no armour,” he replied, standing steadfast against her.

“He doesn’t wear armour,” she replied plainly, annoyance entering her voice. “But if he spots you blocking me, he will kill you. Please, let me go.”

She could feel Natakas tense his muscles, then let them go, moving out of her way. She moved passed him, gently running her hand over his upper arm as she left the cave.

“Brother!” she called, earning a hiss from Natakas as she did so. She turned to him and shrugged. “Alexios!”

“Kassandra!” he yelled back, somewhere above them. She heard him thump down to the ground behind her and she turned to find her brother with a sword to Natakas’ neck.

The scene changed around her, and blood found its way into her mind like a twig snapped. As her consciousness groaned ‘not again’, her actions had already spoken for her. In a swift movement, she had disarmed her brother and brought him to the ground, twisting his shoulder behind him and ‘ungently’ placing his face into the grass.

“Kassandra, wha-” Alexios started. She pushed his face further into the earth, restricting his movement to ensure his ears were piqued to her.

“Stop. Threatening. My. Significant. People.” Her voice was hoarse, and she shook with the effort it took to get the words out.

She released him then, placing herself between her brother and Natakas. Alexios stood up, still disarmed, and spat dirt down to his right. His eyes were murderous, and directed at both of them. Kassandra glared right back, challenging his first words to be an apology.

Alexios didn’t relent.

“You could have been killed!” he yelled, gesturing wildly.

“And yet,” Kassandra replied calmly, pointing at her intact person.

Alexios tried again. “Then who’s this guy?” he said.

“You know exactly who he is. Why are you here?”

“Because you took off so suddenly! Without supplies!” Alexios was raging then, trying to maintain the tide of his temper. She did just take off, and didn’t explain anything about it. If he was honest, and he wasn’t planning to be, he was a little annoyed that she would leave without him.

“I had supplies, or drachmae to buy them. I’ll ask again: why are you here?” Their tempers had always matched, and both flared into bouts of fire now. Alexios abandoned; Kassandra incapable. These were the narratives each thought the other knew, but was too scarred by circumstance to admit.

“Because I was worried you wouldn’t ever come home!” he yelled. “I was worried that you’d not said goodbye properly and that we’d never hear from you again!”

This was not the answer Kassandra was expecting. Nor the environment in which she’d been expecting to have this particular conversation.

“I always come home,” she said, breathlessly. “I always come home.”

“But one day you might not, and that could be the day when my help could have made the difference!”

There it was: her incompetence.

“I’ve been doing this alone for a long time, baby brother! Longer than you’ve been out of milk cloths!”

“But you didn’t take me with you! Why didn’t you invite me along!?”

There is was again: his abandonment.

Natakas, to his credit during this exchange, remained stonily silent. Whether this was because he wasn’t listening, or because every time he sought escape, one of the siblings matched his movements and stopped him, he’ll never know. What was obvious, to him at least, was that neither Kassandra nor Alexios were finished with him yet.

“I didn’t invite you because I needed you to remain at home to ensure Natakas had all of the information he needed should we not meet on the road. It was practical!”

Alexios opened and closed his mouth a few times, the gaping reminiscent of the hole forming in his presumptions. He’d been sure she had left as she did because she didn’t need him, not because she needed him at home.

But it was true: Kassandra had asked him to meet Natakas at home and bring him up to speed, should he arrive there.

Alexios looked at his feet then, realisation creeping.

“I needed you at home,” Kassandra said, passing him back his sword.

“But he pulled you from your horse,” Alexios said quietly.

“Because she was asleep, and I thought you were maliciously following her, rather than benevolently following her.” Natakas put out his arm in greeting, and Alexios hesitated only a moment before grasping it.

“And that’s why he pulled me through the scrub,” Kassandra added. “Alexios, Natakas. Natakas, Alexios. I’d forgotten that you two have never laid eyes on each other, let alone met.”

“I’m sorry for threatening you,” Alexios said, sheathing his weapon.

“Don’t worry about it, the amount of times your sister’s threatened me with a blade, you’d think me used to it by now,” Natakas laughed.

Kassandra turned to her brother, smiling sickly sweet. “Alexios, can you please go and fetch Phobos.”

“Ok,” he replied, hoping for some kind of penance anyway. This was minor, compared to prior punishments. He set off walking, leaving Kassandra and Natakas behind.

“So,” Kassandra started. “That’s Alexios. If you think he’s bad, wait until you meet my mater. She could burn a hole through leather with simply a look.”

Natakas smiled a small grin, still processing the afternoon. Kassandra knew the feeling: she’d hoped their meeting on the road to be a bit less flee-y and a bit more hi-y.

“I missed you a lot,” he said quietly, bending down to pick a small yellow flower. He lifted it to his nose, breathed it in, and placed it behind her right ear. She looked at him as she touched it, feeling the soft petals against her dirt-ridden fingers.

“I missed you too. I rode north because your father sent me a letter.”

This elicited a look of surprise from him. “What did it say?”

“That you were missing. Natakas, did you tell your father you were coming here? He worries.”

“I told him I would be away for a month or two.” The crease between his eyebrows deepened. “Do you have the letter on you?”

She nodded and passed it to him. He looked it over and shook his head.

“This wasn’t sent by my father. It looks very much like my father’s hand, and he is in Achaia, but this isn’t his. So who’s is it?”

Kassandra took the letter back and placed it in her pocket.

“I have no clue. If you’re open to the idea, we could travel back to Sparta, resupply ourselves, and develop a plan of attack.”

Natakas absentmindedly nodded, though she wasn’t sure if he’d heard her at all.

“What if my father’s in danger?”

Kassandra ran her hand across his forehead, and pushed his hair gently back behind his ears.

“Then we’ll go and rescue him. But not before supplying ourselves. Alexios is right, I didn’t prepare correctly because I was worried about you. We don’t know how long we’ll be gone.”

“Ok, but as long as your father doesn’t ask my intentions.”

“I’d be more concerned about my mater asking about your ties to Persia,” Kassandra said through a smile. “Your last joke, did you know my family history?”

“No,” Natakas said, question in his voice.

“Leonidas was my grandfather,” she replied, leaning closer to him. “Mater is strongly Spartan, and my pater was a General in her army, and my step brother still is. Just so you know what you’re getting into.” Her face was only a handwidth from his now, slightly hungry look in her eye. He matched her signal for signal, but would wait for her to take the final leap.

“And here I thought Alexios was the troublesome one,” he whispered.

“Who says I’m not!” announced Alexios, stomping through the trees with Phobos behind him.

Suitably, and probably purposefully interrupted, Kassandra and Natakas pulled apart quickly. Alexios looked between them, seemed to dismiss the question on his lips, and passed Phobos’ reins to Kassandra.

“Is he coming back with us to Sparta?” Alexios asked.

“He is, yes.” Kassandra replied.

Alexios huffed, and lead the way through the forest to their home.

Chapter Text

Kassandra, Alexios, and Natakas made their way quickly back to Sparta, making the journey in about eight hours. They had piled Phobos with the supplies they had been carrying on their backs, and were on foot. Natakas maintained his hidden face during the journey, while the siblings made their faces open and free, hoping to distract by contrast. Everyone in these parts knew them, anyway, and would hardly question their comings and goings, even with a foreigner.

Despite the years since Thermopylae, and Hellas’ new found enemy between its own borders, Kassandra was acutely aware of the danger Natakas was in. Sparta was too far south to have grown used to travellers.

It was evening when they entered the city, and the night was as still as a cursed gorgon. Phobos stirred slightly, eager to get to his field, but Kassandra sequestered him in their stable for the night. The three unpacked the horse silently, with Alexios moving the sibling’s things into the house, and Natakas’ things into the room behind the house. They’d decided this was best: neither of the siblings felt like explaining a stranger’s belongings to the early risers that were Nikolaos and Stentor. It was only a few hours after bedtime, and Kassandra was yawning enough for the three of them.

“I can finish up here,” Natakas whispered to her, looking through his pack to ensure all was accounted for. “You head on to bed.”

“I have to organise you a bed roll yet,” she whispered in reply. She turned to her brother, who was refilling Phobos’ water trough and feed bin. “Head to bed brother. I’ll stay here and get him settled.”

Alexios was stifling a yawn behind his hand, and waved her off gratefully. He’d felt like he’d been running non-stop all day, and now that he thought about it, he basically had. His knees were aching, and a turn about his bed sounded incredibly pleasant. The thoughts of the soft blanket waiting for him muffled most other concerns, and he allowed himself to be convinced easily. An echo of Natakas’ fool-hearty dealings with both danger and Kassandra blew through his mind, but he snuffed it out in favour of his bed.

Alexios nodded, and made his way inside, leaving Kassandra and Natakas alone.

Natakas was still rummaging through his pack when she glanced over: he seemed to barely register that there was anything other than his pack at all.

Then he stopped, and handled a package with a leather outer. He started smiling at it, and stood up, facing her. Slightly embarrassed that he essentially caught her staring, she looked to the rest of the outer room, placing things up on shelves and moving cloths to block the drafting holes in the wall. This done, she splashed her hands slightly in the spare water bucket to remove some of the grime, and wiped her face with it. Her skin glistening to her satisfaction, she finally turned to Natakas, and found him almost directly behind her.

The look in his eyes was hunger mixed with pining. His eyes scraped over her face, encountering every detail, every scar, everything which was so wonderfully, unaccountably, her. He brought his hand up to her face and touched her latest scar, one which traversed her right cheek from her nose to the arch in her jaw. It was one he hadn’t seen before: she'd received from the wolves which chased her around the Order stronghold. It would fade with time, but that time had not yet been afforded. Kassandra leaned into the touch, letting his fingers spread over her cheek towards her braided hair. They snaked their way to the roots at the base of her neck, and pulled her head to a slight angle, in order to face him more fully. She closed her eyes slightly, enjoying the feeling. It couldn’t quite be described as a tickle, but more like a strident leap between the nerves of her head and the pleasure seekers nestled just beneath her skin. As if on cue, she erupted in goose-bumps, and shivered. Natakas noticed, and pulled back slightly, as if remembering himself.

He held up the package he had retrieved from his bag. It was wrapped in brown leather, and tied with a leather cord.

“This is for you,” he said, looking down at it. He passed it into her hand, his warmth grazing over the chill on her fingers.

She sat down on the bench and started unwrapping it. It was about the size of her palm, flat, and heavy. As she unwound the leather cord, Natakas took a seat on the ground in front of her, crossing his legs.

The leather came undone all at once, and a golden disk looked up at her. It was curved, with stars donning the outer edges. The figure of a woman with wings stood in the centre, accompanied by two lions resting at her feet. Though rough, Kassandra could tell that her face was one of joy, and her power was full.

“We call her Anahita,” Natakas whispered, rising to his knees so his face was at the same level as hers. “She is our eternal Goddess: ruler over fate and the stars. Her dominion is the water that surrounds the earth, and she is both War and the Maiden. Whenever I think of you, I also think of her, and how it was her who brought us together.”

“Anahita,” Kassandra quietly repeated. “She was the one who burnt down the village?”

Natakas laughed. “No, I don’t think so.” He had one hand resting on her knee, while the other touched the medallion lightly. “This is your token of me, if you’ll have it. If we were to separate again, I’d hope you’d keep it close to your heart, for my sake.”

“I hope never to be parted from you again,” Kassandra replied.

Natakas nodded, and took her face in his hands. When their lips met, it was so soft and sure that Kassandra was convinced that she’d do it a hundred or a thousand times, and the thrill of it would still course through her veins. There was both an urgency and a gentleness to him, as if he’d been waiting a thousand years for her, while she had been wondering lost. She pulled back slightly, just a hairwidth from him, and looked up to his untidy hair. She pushed it back against his forehead, leading it down behind his ears. They both let a small smile play on their lips, before resuming. His hands fumbled through her hair, while her right hand, still holding the medallion, rested closed fisted against the base of his neck. They stayed like that for a little bit, slowly getting used to the taste of each other, until Kassandra once again pulled back.

“I haven’t done this kind of thing in a long time,” she whispered, fear mingling through her eyes. She placed the medallion down next to her, among its leather bindings, and touched it lightly once more.

“That’s ok,” Natakas whispered. “How would everyone in your house react if they found you out here tomorrow, anyway.” He rubbed her cheek slightly, smiling.

“I guess my priority for the last three years has been Alexios and he’s-,” Kassandra hesitated, trying to find the right word. “He’s okay.”

Natakas smiled a little wider, taking her hands in his.

“The only urgency to any of this is because I’ve missed you next to me. As long as I have that, everything else can wait. I swear it. Oh, that, and we figure out what’s going on with my father.”

“I can agree to that.” Kassandra then stands, making for the house. “I’ll go and fetch you a bed roll.”

When she returns with the mattress, she finds him flipping the medallion between his hands and muttering. He looks up when he hears her enter, and watches her intently as she makes his bed up from some blankets in the house. He nods to her in thanks when she is done and they stand facing each other, neither wanting to make a move away from the other. Eventually, Kassandra lightly grasps his hand, and leads him to the bed, lying down with him.

They pass the night wrapped in each other’s embrace, dozing between whispers and kisses. They don’t go further than this, just leaning into their luck at finally being safe, relaxed, and together. The power they feel in this safety can’t be understated, and even the knowledge of the danger ahead can’t spring them from this warmth.

--------

They woke together, to the front door of the house being slammed shut and heavy footsteps making their way towards the outer room. They both react instinctively, Natakas attempting to block Kassandra from the danger, and Kassandra attempting to stand to protect them both. This results in groans from the both of them, still barely reactive in their twilight of sleep, with the twisted blankets of their bed restricting their movement.

The door to the outhouse slams open, and a large figure is standing with bright sunlight behind them. Both Natakas and Kassandra blink rapidly at the sun, trying to quickly figure out who their assailant is.

“You didn’t come in last night!” Alexios’ voice bellows. Of course, he’d fallen asleep waiting for her to return to their shared room, and only discovered her missing when he’d awoken this morning.

Kassandra, relieved that it is only her brother and not her father, slumped back down onto the bedroll, her arm covering her eyes. Natakas, on the other hand, rose from the bed and walked over to Alexios.

“We were just sleepi-” Natakas is cut off by Alexios’ blow to his face. Though well placed to stop him speaking, rather than to break anything, Natakas nevertheless felt the sting of his teeth cutting the inside of his cheek. Kassandra can see that Alexios is furious, but she’s only seen Natakas brought to fury once, when he’d almost lost her to the bear. She groans inwardly, sick of Alexios playing the part of an abandoned puppy.

But still, she has no idea how Natakas will react to the punch, and leaps up to prevent the possible escalation. Natakas spits blood from his mouth, as Kassandra rushes over and gently touches his cheek. A bruise is already forming, and his mouth is red. She kisses it lightly, and turns her fury to her brother.

Just breathe, he didn’t mean it, a quiet thought intrudes.

If he didn’t mean it, then he shouldn’t have done it, a louder one shouts.

Kassandra hits Alexios across the face, hard, aiming for his nose to break it. He staggers back, and she uses his lack of balance to charge him out the door of the outhouse and into their mother’s prized garden. They wrestle on the front steps, trading blows and inflicting as much hurt as they can. Kassandra aims for his stomach, knowing it isn’t honed enough to prevent her causing pain to his organs. Alexios aims for her ribs, her only real weak spot.

They’re roughly pulled apart by strong hands, with Stentor holding Kassandra and Nikolaos holding Alexios.

“What is the meaning of this! Both of you!” Nikolaos yells. “And on your mother’s herbs!”

Kassandra leaps free from Stentor’s grasp and punches Alexios in the stomach again, before she is detained in a shoulder lock by her step-brother.

“He hit Natakas!” Kassandra screamed.

“You really think your pater isn’t on my side in this?” Alexios screamed back.

“Calm down, both of you! We will release you if you calm!”

Kassandra breathed deeply, and slumped slightly to signal for Stentor to let her go. Alexios did something similar.

“Tell me the meaning of this,” Nikolaos spat out.

The siblings looked at each other, and Alexios spoke first.

“She slept with a stranger in the out-house last night! I found them this morning. I hit him, and she charged me.”

Nikolaos evaluated his son, and turned to Kassandra. “Well?” he said.

“His name is Natakas, and he helped me bring Alexios home from Makedonia.” Her breathing was difficult: Alexios likely broke one of her ribs. “It is true that he is here, but he is not a stranger, and he did not take me last night.” She straightened up to her full height, despite the pain in her doing so. “And my understanding, Pater, is that you cannot fault me even if he had.”

“Your understanding is false, Kassandra. As your father, I should always be consulted first and made an offer, like Brasidas did. But regardless, this is a stupid reason to fight amongst yourselves.”

Kassandra heard a slight scuffle from behind her, coming from the out-house. Stentor emerged holding Natakas in the same grip he had held Kassandra. She noticed Natakas limping slightly, his eyes bright. She shook her head slightly to warn him: she knew this play and had seen it before. Natakas was attempting to seem weak to gain the upper hand. He saw her shake her head and stood straighter in response.

Stentor held him fast. Kassandra made to go to him, but Nikolaos lifted his hand to stay her. He then ventured over, and looked into Natakas’ face.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Natakas, son of Darius, of the Persian States.” Natakas replied, defiance dripping from his words.

“And why are you here?” Nikolaus asked.

“Because your children invited me.”

Nikolaos looked between Alexios and Kassandra. Alexios was looking at the ground, while Kassandra only had eyes for Natakas. Nikolaos turned back to him.

“Did you take my daughter last night?” he asked calmly, like he was ordering a new piece of cloth woven.

“No, no I didn’t.” Stentor held him a little tighter. “I swear it,” Natakas choked out.

“Let him go Stentor, or I swear, I will cut you down where you stand.” Kassandra had quietly unsheathed her spear and was twisting it in her hand.

Stentor looked to Nikolaos, seeking direction. Nikolaos shook his head, indicating that Stentor should keep his hold.

“Do you know what it is to dishonour my only daughter? And now that both of them have made a scene, the knowledge of this will make her ineligible to any forthcoming offers?” Nikolaos grasped Natakas’ hair, pulling his head up to look at him. “Do you know the disservice you have done here today?” he bellowed.

“Pater!” Kassandra screamed, and Nikolaos let Natakas go. He indicated to Stentor to drop him, and Natakas stopped himself falling only just. Kassandra ran to him, ignoring her father’s staying hand. Her spear was unsheathed, but she knew that if any of their blood was spilt today, it would undo years of painstaking work.

Kassandra wondered where her mater was, and whether she would have made the situation better or worse.

Natakas stood in silence, letting Kassandra take the lead. This was, after all, her blood.

“Pater,” she started through clenched teeth, “we both know that you have rejected all offers that have come through the door. And we both know why: but the General is dead, and there are none like him in this land. This choice is out of your hands, and you know better than to force me into anything.”

Kassandra was making a decision, and on balance, decided to take the risk of her mother’s judgement.

“I’ll also remind you that this is my mother’s house, hers by right and inheritance, and that your power here is diminished. If she decides that Natakas is welcome here, I will not hear another word about it from you, or either of your sons. Is that clear?”

Her look was open, but challenging. Nikolaos regarded her coldly. His position in the family, though somewhat repaired, would always be less than the positions of his children. His friends and colleagues had slowly convinced him that his children’s futures were his decision by right, a comfort that he’d leant into as a pillar of Spartan society. He had the right to choose his children’s partners, and the right to veto them. His children, but contrast, must accept his choice, excepting their ability to petition their mother.

But he realised that, though he’d convinced himself that this was the case, it never really was. Kassandra and Alexios were out of his grasp on this, and in fact on most things. He’d given up that right the night he’d thrown them both from the mountain. He couldn’t even say anything about their being in the house as, so Kassandra had phrased it, it was their mother’s house. He’d been playacting; falsifying his position as their father. It didn’t even really matter that he wasn’t, in fact, their real father: he was less to them than he’d ever even considered.

Nikolaos nodded to Kassandra, his eyes still scathing. He turned, and rather than walking into the house, walked down the road towards Leonidas’ tribute.

Stentor stood straight, and, though obviously being at pains to do so, put out an arm to Natakas. Stentor was a strange one: his loyalty would always be to Sparta first and his family second, with Nikolaos being the pinnacle of that family. He seemed to always defer to him, despite being a man almost of marriageable age himself. Since Nikolaos had agreed to Natakas' reprieve, Stentor seemingly did too.

Natakas looked at Stentor's arm warily, but grasped it all the same.

“Stentor, Kassandra’s step-brother,” he said.

“Natakas.”

“Sorry about the, ahh, choke hold, Natakas. I’m as wary of my sister’s honour as my father. Please, come in to breakfast. I’m sure Nikolaos has gone in search of Myrrine.”

Natakas nodded, and Stentor disappeared inside. Once he was gone, and Kassandra knew her numbers were greater, she turned on Alexios.

“Why?” was all she asked, through fear and anger. “You know they had rights to kill him. Why would you risk it?”

Alexios, at least, had the decency of trying not to meet her eyes. He kicked some dirt up with his feet.

“I knew they wouldn’t kill him,” he said quietly. “I’d just hoped that they would remind him of what you risk with his being here.”

“Brother, you know more than anyone that their honour and their willingness to kill for that honour is deeply rooted. Don’t be such an idiot.”

She paused, ensuring that her brother truly heeded her next words.

“If you pose such a risk again, I will hesitate to call you brother at all. I know that you thought what you did was right, but it is not your call to make. Never make such a call again.”

She turned away from him, and lead Natakas into the main room of the house to dress his wounds.

———-

Myrrine returned late in the morning carrying a basket of fresh vegetables. She was furious at the sight of her garden, gently lifting the now limp parsley from the dirt. Her mood did not improve at the state of her living room, with Kassandra, Stentor and Natakas laughing at a joke while Alexios sat in the corner carving.

She placed the basket down calmly, attempting to temper the storm brewing in her chest. The house was silent as they acknowledged her return. Though Nikolaos had found her in the market and had pleaded his case, she reserved her judgement until she’d met the man who so enamoured her only daughter.

“Mater,” Kassandra said, standing. “This is Natakas, of… of Persia.” Kassandra gestured to the man whose face was blooming with bruises.

Myrinne walked over to him and gently touched his face, tilting it to the light. It surprised her that he let her: she’d expected at least some resistance.

“You may call me Myrrine,” she said, still studying him. “Of Persia?”

He glanced at Kassandra, then trained his eyes on her mother. “Of blood only, I’ve never lived there. My father fled with my mother early in his life: we were all born on the road.”

Myrrine made a noise of acknowledgment, and let go of his face.

“Is blood the only ties you have to the country?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” he replied. “There are ties that I’d prefer to be rid of. That’s what Alexios and Kassandra assisted me with in Makedonia: the reduction of those ties.”

“Your speech is that of a man used to keeping secrets.” Myrrine ventured. “Why did you come here?”

“Primarily? To see Kassandra. Secondly, to ask for her help in retrieving my father.”

Myrrine nodded, then left the room to speak to Nikolaos.

Myrrine found him in the field behind the house, sharpening his spear.

“Do you remember the night you finally took me?” she asked, sitting just behind him. He grunted in response, continuing to hone the blade. Not expecting anymore of an answer, Myrrine continued.

“You were already a rising star in the army by then: strong, fast, gentle. By the time you were of age to marry, I was so sure that my mother would say no. Did you know that? She thought you weren’t good enough, you weren’t enough like my father. I begged and pleaded and vetoed all other offers, as was my right. Do you know why she relented, in the end?”

Nikolaos didn’t answer, but a small smile played on his lips. He knew this story, of course. It was the story he’d told Kassandra as a child, and would have told Alexios, if fate had been different.

“Not because you would make a dutiful husband, or because you were a wealthy match, or because you found yourself beholden to Sparta’s laws to a fault. No. It was because your love shone through. You eventually convinced her that you loved me.”

“But we don’t know if this man is any of those things,” Nikolaos said.

“Nor do we know if they intend to marry each other,” Myrrine replied. “You didn’t even ask, if my understanding of this morning is accurate. Besides, the man took a beating from both Alexios and Stentor, and stayed for breakfast. Do you think he loves her?”

“He might be using her, or wanting her power, how others have in the past.”

“Maybe, but I think he’s honest.”

“So you’ll allow him to stay in our home?”

“Yes,” Myrrine decided. “He can stay until they no doubt will leave together. But I do agree with you in one part.” Nikolaos looked to her face, and she gave him a knowing look. “He stays in the outhouse, she stays in her regular bed, until he comes to us with an offer.”

--------

A relieved Kassandra jumped up to hug her mother when they returned, while a stern Nikolaos glared at Natakas. Natakas, to his credit, returned the look in full, having a greater knowledge of Nikolaos’ position in the household than he’d had this morning. Myrrine was the power, the centre of the household. Nikolaos was only here because she let him be.

They sat down for a small lunch, made up mainly of bread and cheese.

“Tell me about your journey from Persia,” Stentor said to Natakas, passing him some wine.

“It was always a bit frightening, not having a home. I had a carving which stayed with me always, which I used to comfort myself at night. And when it was lost, I found another to take its place. That was just the nature of it.”

“And your main weapon is a bow?” Stentor asked. “In Sparta, it is considered a coward’s weapon!” He laughed at his own joke.

“I believe I shot you in Boeotia, didn’t I, brother? Or at least one of the guards close by to you. It’s hardly cowardice to prepare a scene for an assault,” Kassandra said.

“Maybe not cowardice, but certainly dishonourable,” Stentor replied.

“Is throwing a spear much different?” asked Alexios.

“Well,” said Nikolaos, wiping crumbs from his mouth. “I suppose you then retrieve the spear, leading yourself into the attack.”

“If you don’t retrieve arrow-heads, you’re likely considered incredibly wasteful,” said Natakas, drinking from the cup.

Kassandra laughed. “Yes, that’s true,” she said. “I once brought down a wolf with poorly shot arrows. Obviously someone had tried to bring it down before me, because I retrieved more than I shot!”

The conversation went along like this during lunch, with battle being the main stomping ground that they all had in common. Kassandra tried her best to skirt it away from Natakas’ past, but she wasn’t always successful. When a direct question was asked, be it of the origins of his father, or what happened to his sisters, he replied with the cool grace that only comes from being a seasoned liar.

Only when Kassandra’s father and brothers left to complete some errands could Kassandra and Natakas speak truly freely.

She sat down with him in the field behind her mother’s house, and gifted him the petals of a white flower, flicking them into his hair so he couldn’t possibly retrieve them all. She giggled as she did it, unbecoming of an incredibly dangerous misthios. Natakas let her do it, and spent the following half hour collecting them.

“Ok, so, I’m not sure if I’m the subject of a particularly difficult language barrier, but is me ‘taking’ you having sex with you, or something else?”

Kassandra’s mouth hung open a little, unsure of how to answer him.

“It’s that, but also marriage. In Sparta, a man approaches a woman’s father and makes him an offer. They say the deal is between men and fathers, but the mother and the woman have equal amounts of power here. The mother can veto, the father can veto, the woman can veto. But only the father can be made the offer. That’s what he was referring to.

“And then once the offer has been made and accepted, the man sneaks into the woman’s house, usually still with her parents, and he ‘takes’ her to his house, where they consummate, making the marriage, and where she wakes as his wife and him as her husband.”

Natakas is looking at his palm, and the collection of petals it holds, throughout her speech. He blows them away, and they catch the wind, drifting further down the hill.

“Have you been married before?” he asks.

Kassandra shakes her head. “My father and I accepted an offer, but he never came home from the war. So the marriage was never made.”

“Brasidas?” Natakas asks quietly, remembering their short stop at Amphipolis.

“Brasidas,” Kassandra confirms. “He died at Amphipolis. Alexios killed him. It was a long time ago now.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, pensively touching at the grass. Some of Kassandra’s actions and reactions are making more sense to Natakas: how she reacted when Alexios threatened him, how worried she was when he was in the hands of the Order, even her naturally merciful manner was making more sense.

“We give gifts to show our intentions,” he whispers. The words are almost lost to the wind, but she grasped them. “Flowers, tokens, sweets. It’s usually mutual: the man gives first, then the woman. Their families too, usually. It can’t proceed without both family’s blessings.”

Kassandra’s cheeks warmed, her flush travelling from her neck to her forehead as she recalculated the events of yesterday. She didn’t know if his gifts amounted to a proposal - the flower, and the token - and she wasn’t sure if she really wanted it to. She didn’t even know him well enough to know his reaction to her brother’s punch. They’d been together for most of the week that they’d been chasing down Order members: sleeping next to each other, eating together, hunting together, laughing together. And his reaction once she recovered from the bear attack was definitively panic, and visceral relief. She knew he cared for her, and she cared for him deeply. So deeply that any thought of a moment without him sent a jolt of panic through her chest.

But did she really, truly, know him? Enough to marry him?

Her brow deepened. He’d not retaliated at all once Stentor released him, and happily bantered with her family in the afternoon despite his bruises and cuts. That sounded like enough of an answer about his temper and anger: though it existed, he could easily direct it and reduce it so as to not be reactive.

Though she hated to say it, he was considerate almost to a fault. Even when he was in danger, he preferred her away from it: to lose his own neck to protect hers.

And he was here, like he said he would be. He’d accepted the very Spartan conversation, the very Spartan treatment of a potential suitor, the very Spartan way they attacked first and asked questions second.

“Do you truly care what my family thinks of you?” Kassandra asked, not looking at him.

But he was looking at her: she could feel the intensity of his gaze, and his willing her to look up. She didn’t give in.

“The only reason I’m here is because I do, otherwise we would be on the road to Achaia instead.”

“Why?” was all she could reply. “I know that you don’t know our history, not really. But I don’t need my family’s approval. Maybe Alexios’, and that’s a big maybe.”

“I know you don’t, and I never expected that you did,” he said. “This is just how we do things in our part of the world. And I want everything above board: I don’t want you to think I’m not serious about you.”

He took her hands in his.

“I’d follow you across the world, Kassandra. I’d live everyday of my life for you. If you think this is too fast, and you’d like to slow it down, just tell me. I’d understand, and follow your lead. But the token and the flowers are my offer to you: your answer doesn’t have to be today, or even tomorrow. As long as you know my offer stands, and I stand with it.”

She looked up, and saw the certainty in his face. How could he be so sure about her? She was unpredictable; she was always away; she was a conflict magnet.

The more she looked at him, the more she realised the truth. As unpredictable as she was, he was steady. As often as she was away, he was permanent. As much conflict as she generated, he was unreactive.

They were themselves different, but complementary. He fit into her and she fit into him.

Kassandra looked down into the grass, breaking their stare. She surveyed it, and found a tiny, unassuming white flower preparing to bloom. She picked it at its base, and lifted it to Natakas’ hair, placing it behind his left ear. He closed his eyes as she did so, breathing in the moment.

“I accept you,” she whispered. “Whether you’re standing, or sitting, I accept you.”

He leaned in to kiss her, and she deepended it by moving into his lap. Their hands travelled over one another, searching their skin to touch as much as they could. There was a deep urgency to them now, which hadn’t existed the night before. Natakas pushed his hands over her back, under her clothes, letting them rest in her hair. Her mouth moved from his, down to his neck. She was surprised to find that resting her pursed lips against the gap between his collarbones made him shiver. It was one of those actions that she would always remember, to use if he was ever mad at her, or she wanted to gleefully torture him. He lightly touched her ear as she did it, drawing circles around the inside of the light bones. Her body convulsed, and she cursed herself for giving him a similar leverage.

Their kiss returned to their lips, discovering the thrill of it all over again.

Then Kassandra pulled away, a different kind of urgency on her face. She looked up to the house briefly, before her gaze returned to Natakas.

“My brother is home,” she said. “I will accept you even if they don’t, but I will feel better about our trip north if you at least speak to my mother. Is that ok?”

“Of course,” he replied. He picked her up gently, standing as he did so. Then he kissed her again, holding her completely against him and inhaling her hair. He placed her down next to him, and walked to the house.

Chapter Text

It was early: early enough for the dew to rest on the flowers and the light of the sun to be a soft indigo. Not much stirred, and not many were awake. The errant farmer, maybe. The bugs and the flies were laid still by the morning, waiting for wind to stir before taking to the air.

Kassandra shivered, waking slightly to reach across her bed for some promised warmth. Finding none, she slumped in disappointment, remembering where she was and why she was alone.

Her mother’s stupid rule.

She groaned inwardly, and quietly threw off her blankets. She listened for her brother’s calm and even breathing, ensuring he slumbered on the other side of the room. Satisfied, she rose from her bed, and made her way downstairs. No one usually stirred this early, and her excuse for waking could be easily explained by their plans for the day.

They would be setting out later to Achaia, Kassandra and Natakas on the Adrestia for speed, and Alexios on Phobos to listen to the chatter on the road. Though Kassandra knew that Barnabas could be a formidable foe, she also knew that he respected matters of the heart above all else, and would ask few questions.

Once downstairs, she picked up a portion of wax, some berries, and some apples and made to the front door. She was silent as she did so, keeping to the sides of her feet so her footfalls wouldn’t make it to the bedrooms upstairs. It was still well before dawn, well before anyone would see her.

She pushed open the front door, fearing the loud creak would be her undoing. She hesitated, then remembered that she had a reasonable excuse: the wax was to condition the saddle, and the apples were for Phobos. The berries could even be for her, if she would have to stretch the lie that far. Nothing stirred at the sound of the door, so she slipped through, holding her goods to her chest with her left hand, leaving her right to close the door behind her.

She surveyed the garden, still destroyed from a few days before. She felt the uneasy prickle of guilt lift in her chest as she looked on. She should have warned her family of the nature of her relationship before they’d come here: if she had, the whole conflict may have been avoided.

She moved towards the outhouse door, quietly hoping that she didn’t lose her nerve. It was just to be a short visit, nothing more. She was cold, and expected he was too. That was all. She was just checking on their guest.

That this was while her family was sleeping was neither here nor there: they had to sleep sometime.

She nudged the door open with her foot, accidentally dropping an apple as she did so. Phobos whinnied behind her, scaring her half to death. His eyes were on the apples, and she jumped at the noise. More apples cascaded to the ground, thumping onto the dirt at her feet. She sighed, annoyed by how nervous she was. She kicked two apples towards Phobos, and held the rest in the crook of her arm.

Acting more confident than she felt, she pushed open the door and slipped inside.

He was lying on his stomach, face pushed into the pillows and blankets pooled around his waist. His back was exposed to the air, and she saw his breath moving into and out of him, a rhythm she could follow with her own heart beat. The sinew of his back was carved and lean, his shoulders bunched up slightly by the position of his arms. She saw him shudder slightly as the draft from the door reached his bed, and his head flipped from one side to the other in response. Kassandra smiled at him, and gently placed her myriad of excuses on the floor near the door. There was no need for them now: if she was found here then there would be nothing she could say in response.

She moved towards the blankets, laying down on her side and propping her head up with her arm. With her free hand, she traced the bridge of his nose and the crown of his head, leading her hand down his ears and across his shoulders. He shivered under her touch, stirring slightly into awareness. She smiled at him, knowing how much he loved the peace of twilight sleep.

She saw his eyes flicker open slightly, then he quickly seized her wrist and flipped her over onto her back, holding her tight beneath him. She laughed in surprise, but was silenced by a kiss from him. He gently released her wrist and moved his hands up through her hair and over her chest, testing her current boundaries. She did something similar, but Kassandra had the luxury of his unclothed chest to explore. Only when her hands moved down towards where the blankets were pooled did Natakas break the kiss.

“Be careful, my love,” he whispered. “We don’t want to be heard.”

“No one is awake yet,” she whispered in reply.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, kissing her ears with his mouth as he spoke.

No, she thought. But she didn’t want to voice it and break the moment. All she needed was a moment, after all. Then she’d sneak back into the house, like she’d been doing for the last two days.

Instead, she kissed him in reply, drowning her doubts and worries in him. She fumbled slightly with the ties on his pants as he moved her underclothes further up her body. Hands moved quickly, as their heart rates climbed and their urgency fevered.

Kassandra hesitated slightly, waiting for his ascent to continue removing his binds, and he kissed her deeply in reply. She pushed him over onto his back, forcing him to relinquish control of the situation. Though he was gentle, and considerate, and measured in his responses, he also loved to call the shots with their intimacy. Kassandra felt a small thrill in denying it to him.

He gasped slightly as she guided him to her, her own groan drowned by the need for their silence. He moved a free hand between her thighs, moving it back and forth with her movements. Once her shudders were unrelenting, he rolled her over, matching her muscle for muscle.

Her final gasp came first, and her involuntary movement pushed him towards his peak before he could help it. She kissed the gap between his collarbones, eliciting one last shiver from him before he slumped down next to her.

They both looked at each other and smiled: the kind of smile that shares all secrets and lays a person completely open. It was honest, and it was infinite, and it was theirs.

--------

Kassandra must have dozed off, because she was woken by a fully dressed Natakas when the dawn was too advanced to shrug off.

“If you go to the field now, your father might not spear me through the heart,” he said, smiling down at her. He was tracing the bones of her shoulder, tickling her.

“I won’t say that I don’t care,” she said quietly. “But I’m much more fond of staying here.”

“Be patient: one day we’ll have a home where I’ll encourage you to do exactly that.”

He passed her her clothes, and put the apples and wax she had brought into a small basket. As she dressed, she felt his gaze on her, and her cheeks heated. She collected the basket from him, and he placed a light kiss on her forehead as she slid through the door.

Natakas was right, of course: this would be the exact time of day when she would be expected to be preparing Phobos for a long journey. She collected some tools from the stable, and went to check his feet, teeth, and feed him the apples. He was always thrilled to see her, and was more cooperative than usual going through the task.

After an hour or so, after the sun was fully risen, Kassandra returned to the stable to wash her hands and ensure the riding gear Alexios would be using would be suitable. She found her brother already there, packing his saddlebags and humming a slight tune.

“You weren’t in your bed this morning when I woke up,” he ventured, a mix of knowing arrogance and impish mischief in his tone.

Kassandra shrugged, a feat she managed while screaming internally.

“I was with Phobos,” she said calmly. “I forgot to move him to the field with feed yesterday, and wanted him fresh for your ride. Which reminds me, we’re out of apples.”

“You know that you can see that field from our window, right?” he asked. “And that I moved him myself last night, before dinner.”

Kassandra looked at him then, assessing whether she should beg, or whether she should maintain her apparent aloofness.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” she said, her nerve cracking. “We’re almost out of here, almost away from this stupid honour system. Please don’t say anything.”

Alexios put up his hands in deference. “Of course I’m not going to tell anyone,” he said in a loud whisper. “But it could have easily been Stentor who put Phobos in that field. Where would your lie have been then, eh?”

Kassandra exhaled, relief flooding her. “Thank you,” she said, turning to the bridle. She focused on waxing the leather, ignoring the pointed looks her brother gave her.

“He spoke to Nikolaos, you know,” Alexios said. “He spoke to all of us, actually, in a group. You were off doing some task or another, and he gathered us all. He told us how much he loved you, and how he’d never let you be hungry, or cold, or worried over trivial things. It was funny, really, because he seemed to direct most of the talk to me, like my opinion matters or something. Nikolaos just grunted the whole way through, and said that he would consult with Mater and you. But I bet he hasn’t, has he?”

Kassandra had stood incredibly still throughout Alexios’ whole speech. It wasn’t that she thought Alexios was playing a trick on her, far from it: she didn’t think truer words had ever left his mouth. But it was that she had absolutely no knowledge of this; her parents had not approached her with it, neither had Natakas.

“No, he hasn’t,” she replied quietly.

“Yeh, I thought so. That’s why I thought I should mention it. Even though I have no say, I just thought you should know.”

“Of course you have a say, Alexios,” she said, lifting her face to him for the first time. “In fact, I told Natakas that of all the opinions that he should note in this house, yours was the most important. He was asking you, brother. Not mater or pater, but you.”

Alexios looked first aghast, then worried, seeming to move through the spectrum of emotions and landing on wonder. As she looked at him, she was reminded of their first non-mask meeting, at the top of the cliff on Andros. His uncertainty and fear were his armour there, just as they were his reckoning here. Kassandra cursed herself silently for letting him ever entertain the notion that he wasn’t the most important member of her family; that he wasn’t the answer to her soul’s every question. She’d figured out, finally, why they felt tingles when the other was near: because their souls were yearning for each other.

“So,” she asked through a smile. “Was his offer acceptable?”

Alexios smiled a little as well, uncertain how to answer.

“He didn’t actually offer anything, he just said he’d like you to be his wife.”

Kassandra stilled for a moment, then let out a laugh that cackled so much that it made Alexios laugh too.

“I don’t know if you will ever have or want children, Alexios, but that’s all an offer is,” she said through tears of laughter.

“But Brasidas offered Nikolaos a ring; Natakas didn’t offer anything!”

Kassandra tapered off her laughter, and clapped her brother on the back. “He doesn’t have to, you idiot. I kept the ring anyway, pater never even saw it, I think. And Natakas has already given me a token, so if you think that’s a requirement, he’s fulfilled it.”

She looked at her brother conspiratorially, hand on his shoulder. “Alexios of Sparta, son of Myrrine, will you allow me to marry the man that I’ve basically already married.”

Alexios, shocked that anything had actually taken place between Kassandra and Natakas, nodded slowly. He wasn’t a fool by any stretch: he just wondered how they’d possibly found the time.

Kassandra kissed him on the cheek, and passed him the bridle she’d been strangling during their exchange. She turned and left, basically running from the stable.

She didn’t care if she didn’t have her father’s blessing; or her mother’s. She didn’t care that he was Persian, or a fugitive, or had no place to live or call home. She didn’t care that he was being actively hunted by a dangerous organisation, or that he preferred his eggs runny.

She only cared that her brother approved, and that Natakas was there, in front of her, waiting for their lives to be joined.

Chapter Text

They were in Achaia, and it only took a week aboard the Adrestia for them to make it here. Kassandra thought Alexios was somewhere around the border between Elis and Arkadia, still a week’s ride away. Ikarus was sent between them daily, sending word of their whereabouts and any tidbits they’d heard.

As they’d sailed north, Natakas become more and more anxious. He was constantly reminding Kassandra to keep her spear about her, as if she’d forget, and he barely slept during their nights on board. She found that rubbing his back helped him drift off, but once a nightmare intruded, it would take him hours to wind back down.

He was worried about Darius, she knew. But Alexios was finding information for them, and there wasn’t anything they could do until the Adrestia made landfall.

They discussed strategy at night, between intimate ventures, trying to account for every possibility.

“It’s almost definitely a trap,” Kassandra said, holding the original note which faked Darius’ hand to draw her north. “But why send it to me? If they knew where I was, why not come to me instead?”

“Perhaps they wanted you away from your powerful family,” he replied, groggy with lack of sleep. “Sparta is incredibly loyal to their ancestral families. They’d likely have to fight the whole city to get to you.”

“What’s the timeline? You leave Darius, they stalk your movements, figure out you’re heading to Lakonia, try to use the ambiguity of your location to draw me out? Before you can reach Sparta?”

“Why wouldn’t they just kill me on the road, if they knew where I was?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her in mock indignation. “Are you suggesting that I’m not good at hiding my location.”

“No,” she replied, ignoring his joviality. “Let’s say they knew that you’d find me, and I’d receive the note before seeing you. You would identify it as fake. Then Alexios and I would almost certainly insist on returning to Achaia with you, to track down your father. Getting me, Alexios, you, and your father all in one place to focus an attack? It’ll be like all their Gymnopaedias have come at once.”

Natakas looked at her strangely, not knowing the festival.

“You’d be welcome at Gymnopaedia now, if we were in Sparta, husband,” she said, poking him in the chest. “Only bachelors are disallowed. Stentor and Alexios couldn’t attend, but always pretended that they didn’t want to, anyway.”

“Is that right, wife?” he asked, reaching for her arm and pulling her towards him. She laughed, but pulled away slightly to write down her latest thought.

Perhaps they were just waiting: waiting for all four targets to be easily accessible, together. They would have known that Natakas would want to return to his father eventually. Would they have bet on Kassandra and Alexios coming too? Only if the siblings thought Darius was in danger, as the letter lead them to believe. She turned her mind to the outcome, and the possibilities of their escape.

“We need to find your father,” Kassandra said. “Until then, there’s too much uncertainty to make a plan.”

“You’re right,” he whispered into her ear. “But stop talking.”

Then he pulled her down to their bed.

--------

In the morning, the Adrestia was moored off a small fishing village close to the western edge of Achaia. Kassandra had written to Alexios, telling him of their location, and reminding him to maintain his wits. She was incredibly nervous sending him with Phobos when he hadn’t trained in months but he’d insisted. It wasn’t that he wasn’t still strong, he could overpower almost everyone, her broken rib was testament to that, but her mind just returned to when he was last on his own and the Order was closing in. They would be more careful this time: they’d underestimated the siblings before and would not do it again.

Kassandra’s brow furrowed, bringing her ears a little higher. She was sure she was missing something, something important to the Order’s plans. She looked about the harbour, noting the vessels moored there. A couple of fishing boats, to be expected, one larger ship, bearing blue colours. No one stirred on it, giving her no indication of its purpose. Merchant, probably.

She had let Natakas sleep, but the morning was drifting away from them.

“Barnabas,” she called, whistling to Ikarus with the same breath. “I need to head a little inland. If Natakas wakes, please tell him that I’ve simply gone to fetch some food and water.”

Barnabas nodded, knowing better than to question.

She moved down the wharf, relishing having her feet on land once again. Ikarus landed on her outstretched arm, ready for the day’s tasks.

“First, we find Darius,” she whispered to her companion. “Then, we find any well placed information regarding the trap laid. Go and search for the former, Ikarus.” And he leapt from her arm.

She took off running after him, keeping eyes on both the road and any faces that they passed. She followed Ikarus through Dyme, noting its position on the side of the hills. The people there were more sullen than she had expected, and no one had seen an old man pass through. Kassandra paid for a horse as Ikarus turned them northward, towards Patrai. By this time, the sun was nearing the west and Natakas would be worrying about her. She indicated to the eagle to continue north and report back to the Adrestia that evening.

Kassandra stopped by the merchant as she passed back through Dyme, ordering fruits and berries. She hoped that the berries at least would ease her husband out of the foul mood he no doubt entered on finding her gone.

“You just passing through?” asked the merchant, the usual question to strangers.

“Yes,” Kassandra replied. “Though this is a lovely village.”

“Yes, a bit quieter now, since some of the older people died.”

“How did they die?” Kassandra asked, genuine interest entering her voice.

“Sickness,” the merchant replied. “But their houses are still empty: many of their families moved to Patrai for the better trade and climate.”

Kassandra nodded, and paid the man for her goods.

As she approached the dock, she saw Natakas’ legs dangling over the edge of the ship. He was tearing apart a piece of paper and throwing the dregs into the water, a nervous action if ever she’d seen one.

The noise of the horse alerted him to her, and he did not return her smile as he looked at her.

“I don’t need to tell you how foolish that was,” he said, standing up.

Kassandra shook her head. “No, no you don’t. But you’re a better thinker and fighter when rested. And besides, we’re safer now that I have a basic lay of the land.” She held up the fruit. “Plus, I was able to buy your favourite.”

He was obviously still cranky with her, and grasped her hands when she reached out with the berries.

“Please wake me next time,” was all he said on the matter.

Kassandra lead him into the hull of the ship, to where they could speak without much risk of being heard. “I think we’ll find better information on your father in Patrai, it’s a day’s hard ride away. Ikarus is scouting it now.”

“Ok, a letter arrived from Alexios. He’s in Elis, so I think the Adrestia should stay here to meet him,” he said.

“I agree,” Kassandra replied. “If we find another horse, we can make the ride to Patrai tomorrow and scout it. Ikarus will return with any news or sightings this evening.”

Natakas nodded, and lay back onto the bedroll. His eyes were still glazed over from exhaustion, despite Kassandra’s letting him sleep in. She stroked his forehead with one hand while popping berries into her mouth with the other.

“At least we’re here,” she said. “At least we’re where we need to be to find him. I’m sure he’s ok, Natakas.”

Natakas nodded, having heard this speech of hers multiple times since they left Sparta. If anything, it was her soothing tone, rather than the words themselves, that left him feeling calmer. The tenor of her voice was smooth, with predictable highs and lows, as she moved her hands over his scalp and spoke of comforting things: the weather, the waves, how annoyed her father was at Alexios’ asserted place, how safe she felt with him. He eventually fell asleep right there, her musings drifting him across the barrier to slumber.

--------

Kassandra woke up first, Barnabas calling her name from the deck. She untangled herself from Natakas, and kissed him on the forehead. She hesitated to look at him, but Barnabas called again, more urgently this time.

“Yes, what is it?” she said, clambering up the ladder.

“We’ve been given a directive to pay twice our docking fare, or move for those who will,” he said, pointing to a large man standing on the wharf. “Apparently there are problems in the port of Patrai and ships are flooding to this mooring.”

Kassandra stared down the man, squaring her shoulders and raising her voice. “We paid the price for two weeks, that was the contract.”

“Contracts change,” the man replied. His accent was clipped and his vowels ran through each other.

“What makes it a contract is that it can’t,” Kassandra replied. “Look, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either way, you’re not getting a drachmae more from me.”

He laughed, and directed his men to the ship. Kassandra groaned: it was too early in the morning for this.

She unsheathed her spear (and said a silent thanks to Natakas for making her keep it on her person at all times), and flipped it over in her hands. The men hesitated, eyes moving from the spear to the obviously battle-hardy members of her crew. They looked back at their commander, waiting for his directive.

“Ok,” he said. “One and a half times fare.”

This time, Kassandra laughed, and advanced on him. As she alighted the ship and placed a foot on the wharf, her height and strength became apparent. Usually, Ikarus was with her, and her identity and reputation gave people the answers they were seeking before she even had to threaten them. But Ikarus was overhead, and Kassandra had to do all the work herself.

The man whimpered slightly, and his men took multiple steps back from the wharf.

“Ok, ok!” he said, looking at her raised weapon. “But expect it to get crowded: someone is blockading the port at Patrai.”

Kassandra nodded, and returned to the Adrestia. She went downstairs to wake Natakas so they could travel to Patrai.

--------

“What do you expect to find in Patrai?” Natakas asked. They’d been on the road north for five hours, and he was aching to increase their speed.

“Clues about the blockade. Ikarus found something of interest at the ship-builders: people where they shouldn’t be, basically. It just seems a great coincidence that there is no way to get a ship out of a city where your father could be hiding.”

“Seems like a bit of a stretch, if you ask me,” he replied.

She laughed in response. “Well, we don’t have a huge amount to go on, at least until Alexios returns with his whispers.”

Their horses climbed the rise before the city, and already Kassandra could see a jumble of ships stopped just outside the port. This was no military blockade, but she could see the strength of the vessels guarding the port. The only question was why.

They both pulled up their hoods as they travelled through town, with Natakas also donning gloves.

By late afternoon, they’d listened in at most taverns, and observed how the town worked. Kassandra sighed.

“We should look into getting an inn,” she said. Natakas nodded, and directed their horses to the commerce side of town.

“You go and request the room,” she said. “I’ll sort out a space for the horses.”

“Ok,” he replied, stroking her face slightly before heading inside.

Kassandra walked the horses to the stable, and paid for their feed and water as well as their shelter.

A slight whisper from the shadows between the inn and the back wall called her attention, and her instincts went on high alert in response. She was armoured, and armed, and could settle the whisper before Natakas knew she was gone.

“Who’s there?” she called, unsheathing her spear. Only silence. Then the same, quiet whisper. “Speak to me openly,” she called.

“Come into the dark and I might do just that.”

Darius.

Kassandra advanced into the alcove, and was met with the hooded figure of the older man. He placed his finger to his mouth in a sign for silence, and Kassandra was overwhelmingly reminded of his son. He drew her further into the dark, but she knew she had limited time before Natakas would come to look for her.

“Speak, Darius,” she whispered. “What is going on?”

“We can’t speak here, and I wouldn’t speak to you without Natakas anyway. I’m currently holed away in a ship being built in the harbour. We can’t get out: the Order is causing the blockade. Meet me there tomorrow, and I’ll explain my side.”

Kassandra nodded, then, remembering the dark, spoke in the affirmative.

“Kassandra!” Natakas called. Darius looked over her shoulder, and saw his son moving towards the stable in search for her. His urgency was apparent, and Darius wondered what had happened in the two or so months since he’d seen him.

“I have to go,” was all she said, and she turned and walked into the light. When Natakas sighted her, his shoulders slumped in relief and he clasped her face in both of his hands. Darius made a concerned noise, the type that originates in your throat but doesn’t quite make it to your mouth. Kassandra turned, and looked into the darkened space quickly, before Natakas drew her into the inn.

Darius hadn’t known why Natakas had been so eager to travel to the south of the continent, but now, he supposed, he had his answer.

--------

“C’mon,” Kassandra whispered. “I’m sure he said it was at the ship-builders.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Natakas whispered back. “He was there, and you didn’t tell me.”

“He’s still here,” she replied.

They walked among the half built ships, their faces fully covered, and peered into each one, as quietly as they could.

They’d made it through about two-thirds of the yard when Natakas yelped, a wooden rod sticking out of the closest ship. It was slowly pulled back into the bowels of the ship, the gap between the wood barely registering.

Natakas rubbed his ribs where the rod had poked him, and Kassandra took the opportunity to scale the ship and jump inside.

Darius was sitting on a rug on the far side of the ship, surrounded by blades and bows and maps. He gave Kassandra a concerned look, but once his eyes found his son, they turned joyful, relief flooding them. They grasped each other in a large hug, Natakas laughing slightly. Kassandra stood a little to the edge of the ship, surveying the equipment Darius had amassed.

“Ever since we parted in Korinth, I have worried for you,” Darius said. “You didn’t tell me why you wanted to head south, but I guess I needn’t have asked.” Both of them turned to Kassandra, who felt heat reach her cheeks.

“Sparta is strange, father,” Natakas said. “They have very peculiar rituals.” He turned to Kassandra in full and gestured encouragingly to her. She felt through her pockets for the token, her mother and brother’s gift to Natakas’ father. Nikolaos wanted nothing to do with the exchange, still hurt that Natakas had gone over his head to seek Alexios’ opinion.

Kassandra pulled out a wrapping of leather, bound by flowers, and handed it to Darius. “This is a gift to you from my mother and brother. It is a reciprocation of the tokens we received from Natakas, while he was in Sparta. I hope you’ll accept it at its intent.”

Darius looked between Kassandra and Natakas, his eyes finishing on the gift Kassandra held out. He picked it from her hands, and opened it gingerly.

It was a whetstone, about the size of his palm, but not heavy. It was smooth on one side, and grated on the other. He held it up to the light, using his false examination to think.

“And you’ve both completed the Spartan rituals, I take it?” he asked.

Natakas nodded.

“Natakas, I understand that you’ve always been the kind to follow your heart freely. But think on this: what kind of life could you both lead with us on the run? We’re not safe, anywhere. Not here, not Persia, not Sparta, no where. Is this the type of confusion and worry that you want to bring Kassandra into? Is this the kind of place you want to raise your children? Because I can tell you that not much of life lies that way, having been there myself.”

“I’m not afraid of that, father,” Natakas answered quietly.

Darius made the same concerned noise. “I was on the run with your mother and you children because of my actions alone. It isn’t a life to bring anyone else into.” He handed the whetstone back to Kassandra. “Fear has no bearing.”

Silence stretched between them, the joy of the reunion dissipating. Kassandra was the one who eventually broke it.

“He’s right,” she whispered. “I’m just placing you in more danger by keeping you in Hellas.”

“No,” Natakas said strongly, turning from glaring at his father to pleading to his wife. “No. You saved me, more than you know. We hide, we don’t have to run. Who are they truly after, anyway, father?”

“Don’t,” Kassandra said, looking up. “Don’t. They’re after me and my brother, too. I make you a target more than your father ever has.”

Natakas took her face in his hands, and leant his forehead against hers. “No, Kassandra. We will defeat them, once and for all, we will defeat them. Then I’ll buy you a house where you can sleep in the sun and our daughters can climb the trestles while our sons cheer them on. We can’t be governed by fear. I refuse to be cowed.”

“All very noble,” Darius said. “I refused to be cowed too, and that’s how we lost Neema. All that you’re considering, I’ve considered it before. It doesn’t work. Remember, I have paid for my act with every one of your sisters lost. I paid for it with your mother’s life, too.”

“Kassandra is not like mother,” Natakas said.

“No, she’s not.” Darius sat down on the rug, surrounded by his weapons. “But the Order won’t stop. It’s up to her if she wants to be party to our family curse.”

Kassandra wasn’t looking at either of them, but at the flowers she’d used to wrap Darius’ gift. They were brown now, having not travelled well. She touched them lightly, brushing them against the leather and seeing them break apart on contact.

“You told me that your offer would always stand, and that you would stand with it,” she said.

Natakas stilled beside her.

“Is that still true?” she asked.

“Yes, Kassandra. It will always be true.”

“Then I still accept it. I’ve been hunted my whole life, and any children I bear will likely also be hunted for the virtue of their blood. But I’d like you to be their father, Natakas.”

Darius’ refused to hide his fury from his face. But there was something else there too, behind the anger. It was resignation: he viewed these two as making mistakes he’d hoped for them to avoid. But he also knew there was nothing he could do.

He stood, and approached Kassandra. She didn’t shy away, and instead offered him the whetstone again, and this time, he took it.

Chapter Text

“The mood of the port is turning.” Alexios swung down into the unfinished ship’s hull and landed in a crouch. “There’s desperation on the streets: food’s scarce, tempers unfettered. I’m not sure how safe staying here is.”

Natakas nodded, looking back down at the paper in his hands. It was a plan for a ship’s weapon that they’d intercepted. He was trying to understand the mechanics of it, and how deadly it could be in the Order’s hands.

“Have you figured it out yet?” Alexios asked, looking over his shoulder.

“No,” Natakas whispered, giving Alexios a pointed look and indicating the sleeping Kassandra on the other side of the ship, asking him to keep his voice low. Alexios looked over at his sister, and sat down next to Natakas.

“We have enough food stores for a week or so, but anything more than that and we might have to steal, which I’m not fond of doing,” Natakas said quietly.

“Why are we here, really? We could always just leave the port to them, and ride away,” Alexios said.

“If we leave them the port, then Achaia is next, then Elis, then Lakonia.” Natakas looked full into Alexios’ face, strong conviction in his eyes. “I don’t want them anywhere near us. My father has already pointed out that they’ll never stop, but if we can nip them in the bud then maybe they’ll think us too much work.”

He looked over at Kassandra again, his brow softening at the sight of her.

Alexios echoed the words his mother had said to him only a few weeks before. “She’s strong, she can defend herself.” He nudged Natakas on the shoulder. “She’d be distressed at you thinking any less of her.”

Natakas laughed. “I don’t doubt it,” he said. “But it might not just be us one day, there might be others that need protecting.”

Alexios nodded, then gestured for the plans that Natakas was still holding. He looked at them closely, looking at the lines indicating where the fuel met the fire. The opening was a valve, but controlling the flow so that the fire never retreated back to where the fuel was held was the real genius. It couldn’t snap shut: that required too much risk of a spark getting in. But Alexios also knew that it needed air to ignite: deprive it of air was to deprive it of fire. What was hardy enough to keep air out, be incredibly hot, but flexible enough to open for the fuel to be shot out?

He shook his head, and passed the plans back to Natakas.

“We can rid them from this port, but you know how this ends,” he said. He gestured to his still sleeping sister, both of them then looking at her. “Your father will want you to run with him. To go east. Kassandra won’t leave Hellas, so what will you do?”

Natakas shook his head, as if he wanted to clear his mind of the question. His decision was already made, but it left a cavern in his heart.

“I’ll always stay with Kassandra. Always.”

Alexios nodded. “Ok,” he said. “Then we work on making it as safe for you both as we can.”

--------

Kassandra was exhausted. She’d spent the past week or so with her brother, chasing down members of the Order within Achaia. Mercenaries, merchants, military men. All were linked to the ship trade in some way, and all answered to the key figure known as The Tempest. Kassandra had guessed that it was her ship which was being fitted with the weapon, but she hadn’t yet found anyone willing to talk about it. Fear ruled them, and kept their mouths firmly closed.

She and Alexios were perched on top of the hill overlooking Patrai, where they were watching the harbour. It was quiet, the night still and Kassandra could sense an undercurrent of tension of something about to begin.

“We need to break the blockade,” Alexios said. His face was covered by a hood and his shoulders were hunched up to his ears. “But we can’t break the blockade until we destroy the ship with the weapon. We can’t destroy the ship until we know which one it is.”

“Darius is working on it: he just wants to be sure before striking,” Kassandra replied. She was sitting cross legged, holding her chin in her hands. She wasn’t truly watching the harbour: she just craved some time out of the city. It was irritatingly busy, and she wasn’t sure if she was up to the task of clearing the blockade.

“You’re cranky lately,” her brother said, a slight tone in his voice. She gave him a cranky look, her irritation spiked and glad to have someone to take it out on.

“I’m not cranky, I’m just sick of worrying about bloody cults and their interest in me and mine.”

Alexios’ eyebrows shot up in indignation: if anyone knew about that, it was him.

“I get that, but maybe push it into ridding Hellas of them rather than taking it out on me and Natakas. And don’t pretend you haven’t been. When you haven’t been asleep, you’ve been snapping.”

“I don’t snap!” she snapped. “I just want a quiet home and a bed with pillows that smell like lavender. I’m sick of sleeping on the ground and worrying about whether my family will come back after going on a basic errand.”

“Yeh, well, that’s kind of just our lot. We throw good punches, and we get hunted for our blood,” he replied. “We will make it safe for you. There are ways to make it safe.”

“Don’t you think Nikolaos said that same thing to mater? And yet, they got to us anyway.”

Alexios pressed his lips together in thought. It was true, that the cult pinpointed Nikolaos’ pride and honour as his weakness. And they may do the same to Natakas, if they were to find an opening.

“I don’t think Natakas would throw your children from a cliff at the word of an oracle, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Alexios said, smiling to lighten the words.

Kassandra smiled in response, then erupted in a yawn before she could stop herself.

“Are you sick or something?” Alexios asked. “I’ve never seen you this tired.”

“I don’t know, but I am sick of it.” She stood up. “C’mon, let’s go and listen at the docks.”

--------

Darius had returned with news of which ship was The Tempest’s, and the timeline of the weapon being installed. Within the week, he’d said.

“Then we need to strike at the blockade before it’s finished, or destroy it now.” Kassandra said. “The Adrestia is still on the west coast: but she can’t take the whole blockade without our weakening it first.”

“What are you suggesting?” Alexios asked.

“Covert sabotage. We make leaks in boats; we set fire to supplies; we remove the sailors that have specialist skills who are needed on board. We strangle them.”

“I agree,” Natakas said. “Ok, Alexios, you search out and burn the supplies. Kassandra, you head to town and find the sailors. I’ll head to the ships and sink them.”

“I’d prefer you’d stay here,” Kassandra replied. “I can do both the sailors and the ships.”

Natakas laughed, and shook his head. “I think we’d all prefer the others to stay, but this needs to be done quickly, tonight, before they realise it was coordinated. Hopefully that’ll give enough time for the Adrestia to get to Patrai and destroy the blockade.”

“What about the Tempest?” Darius asked. “Though the weapon isn’t installed, it’s still a formidable ship.”

“The Adrestia can handle it,” Alexios said.

Each with their tasks, they stole into the night, with Darius riding hard to direct the Adrestia to set sail for Patrai.

Alexios finished first, returning to the empty hull of the ship before the others. He tried not to fret: his task was the easiest, but it was also probably the least dangerous. He sighed. He’d hoped the days of having to be strong were behind him, but if he was to ensure Kassandra and her family remained safe, he’d have to return to his strength. He could fight most people, but could never overwhelm a large group of them. As much as he hated the need, the need was there nevertheless.

He took the time to have another look at the plans, trying to figure out whether it could be installed on the Adrestia. It was dangerous, but might give them an edge on the seas.

He fell asleep with the plans on his chest, and was woken by Natakas and Kassandra returning to the ship. Kassandra was holding up a very bloody Natakas, red streaming from a wound on his head and his arms.

“Oh thank the gods, you’re back,” Kassandra yelled to Alexios. He leapt to his feet to hold Natakas by his shoulders and lower him down to the floor.

“What happened?” he asked, collecting his medical supplies from his pack.

“He was caught. We chose a rendezvous point close to where we both were, and he didn’t show up, so I went looking for him. They had him strapped to a chair when I found him. The good news is that we don’t have to worry about the crew of that particular ship anymore.” She said all this through gritted teeth, the events of the night taking that toll.

Alexios pushed Natakas’ head back, examining a wound on his cheek and another at his neck. They were both bleeding badly, but they were both surface wounds. Alexios probed the one on his neck a little, and felt the artery just under it. Whoever made that wound was threatening his life, and knew the tiniest nick would take it. Alexios placed some clean cloth at the site, and Kassandra applied pressure to them.

“There’s also …” Natakas said quietly, moving his left hand. Alexios looked down at it, and saw Natakas’ meaning.

They’d taken his smallest finger, and not cleanly. Alexios swore, knowing how painful it was to lose flesh. His mind immediately turned to his left ear, also taken from him by the Order.

“I might have to amputate the rest of it, to make sure it doesn’t become infected,” Alexios said. Kassandra breathed out loudly, knowing that this was the case as soon as she’d seen it.

“Ok,” Natakas said. “I don’t really use it anyway.”

“You won’t know how much you use it until you no longer have it,” Alexios replied, fetching his blade.

Afterwards, Natakas fell asleep with his head in Kassandra’s lap. Alexios sat beside her, hoping his presence brought comfort, if nothing else.

“Thank you for doing it,” she said. “I don’t think I would have been able to.”

“Once this particular chapter is over, hopefully we’ll have a break.”

Kassandra scoffed softly.

“It’ll never be over,” she said. “But he’s in more danger with me than without me. Maybe I should just let him go.”

“Do you think he’d let you?” Alexios asked gently.

“I might not give him the choice,” she replied. “They’d already be out of here if he hadn’t made the detour to Sparta. Safe in the east.”

“Safe is relative. What is safe for us is dangerous for others.”

“You’re not making me feel better about this.”

“I wasn’t planning to. Sometimes, you have to accept that you’re worth being in danger for; worth the trouble. He definitely thinks you are, just like you thought I was. Don’t forget, you would have been safer without me just like you think he’d be safer without you.”

Kassandra didn’t reply, and just continued to stroke Natakas’ hairline while he slept.

--------

Ikarus brought word to them of the Adrestia’s imminent arrival, and Kassandra ordered the ship to halt on the outskirts of town so she could board. It had taken begging and pleading, but Alexios had agreed to stay in the port with Natakas, who was too injured to be moved. Darius would return to them soon, and coordinate their movement out of the city.

Kassandra readied her crew for the assault: they would target smaller ships first, but their count of the blockade was four support ships in total, with the Tempest’s ship in action, hopefully sans the weapon.

If they had figured out the kinks to the weapon, however, and had enough time to install it, then Kassandra definitely did not want her husband or brother on board.

“To the east! Two on!” Barnabas called.

“Arrows!” bellowed Kassandra, gesturing the the ship currently barreling towards them. The Adrestia flicked its stern, moving adeptly out of the charge, sending arrows towards the ship’s crew. They circled, and rammed into the side of it, sending the captain over the side and splintering the ship’s hull, sending water into its depths.

They dispatched the three remaining support ships, leading them away from Patrai and towards Kephallonia: the Adrestia always performed better in open seas. As the Agean claimed them, Kassandra turned her sights to the Tempest. It wasn’t being drawn by her, waiting by Patrai for the Adrestia to come back to them. Kassandra swore, hoping against hope that the Tempest had failed to install her weapon, but knowing the vulnerability of a wooden ship in rough seas that was filled with flammable liquid.

The Adrestia turned, and Kassandra ordered javelins to be lit and aimed for the bow of the ship. She wasn’t entirely sure that this was where the fuel was kept, but it was a good a guess as any.

As her ship cut through the water, her chest constricted and she found her breath short. She’d had a few episodes of this type in the last few days: a wall of exhaustion and breathlessness leaving her gasping. It had never come at a more inconvenient time. Kassandra straightened, attempting to get her breathing under control, but revealing nothing of her state to the people around her.

“Brace!” she gasped, earning a concerned look from Barnabas.

They crashed into the side of the Tempest, crunching into it and gliding away.

“Hold!” Barnabas shouted. “Hold your attack for the signal!”

They circled, keeping out from the front of the ship. Once they were far enough away, Kassandra gave the cry to lose their fire javelins. They sailed through the air, finding purchase in the side and top of the bow, many of them splintering the wood. The crew of the ship were in a frenzy attempting to put out the flames, so Kassandra knew she’d at least been correct that there was fuel on board.

She ordered a round of fire arrows to be aimed at the same place.

They flew, and Kassandra never knew if they’d found their place or if the javelins had done the work for them. An explosion the likes that she had never seen lit the Aegean, blowing the Adrestia back and dipping her sails into the sea. Kassandra lost her feet, as did Barnabas, with them both clambouring to hold onto the rails of their ship. Kassandra watched as the fireball moved into the sky, splinters of wood and bodies following it up.

The Tempest, and the blockade, were destroyed, and with their work dispatching order members in the week or so before, she was half convinced that this was the last she’d hear of them in Archaia. Surely, now, they would view her as too much work. Surely, now of all times, they would leave her and hers alone.

--------

She docked the Adrestia off the western coast, outside of Patrai, and swam to shore. She had arranged to meet the other three here, in the hills outside Patrai, if she was successful. She’d never revealed to them just how likely it was that she wouldn’t be, but she supposed that they still would have let her do it, had they known.

She climbed the rise to a copse of trees, finding Darius and Natakas sitting together, looking inland, and Alexios sitting away from them, watching the sea. She sat next to her brother, and looked out as well.

“This had a great view of battle,” he said, pointing to the aqua green of the sea. “I probably wouldn’t have triggered the fuel so close to the port, but you can’t win them all.”

“No, but at least another head of the Order is defeated. Does this make us safe?”

Alexios didn’t answer, but grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She leant on his shoulder, sitting in this moment of peace until the next moment of chaos came for them. Kassandra guessed that she should be thankful; that for the most part, no one in the last three or so years had been actively chasing them. That had changed now: she wasn’t sure she could fight the Order to be meek, like she had the Cult. And after the Order, it would just be someone else, anyway.

She reached into her pocket and touched her medallion slightly, feeling Anahita’s face and her knowing smile. She looked over to Natakas and Darius, tears threatening to spill over. She wiped at them, and stood.

She walked to Natakas, and Darius, seeing the look on her face, stood to make way. He made over to Phobos, leaving them alone. Kassandra sat down next to her husband and took his hands in hers. She felt the bandage around his left hand slightly, galvanising herself for the conversation.

“I couldn’t watch it,” he said quietly. “Alexios wanted to watch, but I couldn’t bear it, knowing that you were on that ship.”

Kassandra nodded. She wouldn’t have been able to watch if their positions were reversed, either.

“Natakas, I think you need to leave with your father.” She was looking down at his hands: there was no way for her to do this while looking at him. “You’re in too much danger here, danger I brought to you. I can’t do this if it means danger to you.”

“No,” was all he said, definitively, certainly, no.

“I’m sorry,” Kassandra whispered. “If you’d not come to Lakonia, you’d be safe in the East. You’d still have your finger, you’d not be at risk.”

“If you think that’s true, you’re lying to yourself.” He was getting angry, or perhaps he was already furious but trying to stay his tone, she didn’t know which. “They’ve been chasing us since before I was born, and will no matter where we go.”

“Then why are they so aggressive about it now? The only reason we met was because they were laying a trap for me.”

“Kassandra, for all of the terror that is being chased across the world, I would live it all again because it lead me to you. I would enter a hundred burning villages if it let me simply glimpse you. You’re my wife, and I refuse to leave your side because you think I’m in danger. Our whole lives are dangerous, our whole existence. We could be subject to a poorly kept piece of meat and die from food poisoning three days later. But at least we would be together.”

Kassandra brought the medallion out of her pocket, and felt the stars around it. Fate. He talked about fate like they had a say in it. Like they weren’t simply beings to be thrown across the sky on the whims of gods or monsters.

“What about your father?”

Natakas sighed, relieved at her slight change of subject. “He might leave, he might stay: that’s up to him.”

“No, what about what he said?”

“Kassandra, how many times do I have to tell you that you’re my wife and I will always stand by you? Just believe me! Nothing else matters!”

He grasped her face and kissed her forehead, drawing her body to him. She let him engulf her, feeling his heartbeat beneath his skin. She brought her hand up and traced where the movement was coming from, drawing circles onto his skin.

“I love you,” she whispered, turning her drawn circles into spirals.

“I love you, too,” he replied quietly, landing another kiss into her hair. “Do you think they’ll try this part of the world again? Or would this be a good part to settle in, maybe?”

“Maybe,” she replied. “When I spoke to the merchant in Dyme, he said that some of their houses were unclaimed.”

“Then let’s go enquire at Dyme.”

Chapter Text

The weather was wet. Rain cascaded down the hill towards the village, taking newly planted herbs with it. It hadn’t relented in weeks, with everything smelling musty, and the cold settling in places that would just not dry. The roof, newly repaired from a storm a few weeks before, was leaking into the bedroom, dripping slowly into the wooden bowl left to capture it. It was a regular drip, steady as a heartbeat, and it drowned out the noise of the rain around it.

Kassandra was, franky, not upset by how wet it was. Alexios had left the week before to return to Lakonia, taking Phobos with him, and she already felt the gaping hole he’d left. With not much else to do due to the rain, she mended clothes and tore rags from the ones that weren’t salvageable. She dyed them with the berries she’d collected from the forest, leaving them to soak. She then turned to her shawl and started darning the hole at the shoulder. She was concentrating, so didn’t hear the rain stop.

A large bang downstairs startled her, making her lose the needle from her hand. She stilled, listening for any more information on what the noise could have been. Then she heard familiar footsteps, and relaxed, trying to relocate her needle.

“Kassandra!” Natakas called from downstairs.

“What,” Kassandra said, definitely too quietly for him to have heard her.

“Kassandra!” he called again, closer this time. “Are you awake?”

“Well I would be now, anyway,” she said quietly again. “Yes!” she called, loud enough to ensure he heard her.

“We hunted a goat, enough to share.” He was at the top of the stairs, looking down at her with a flushed face and a look of accomplishment. “Maybe now we can pay back the kindness of the people here.”

Kassandra nodded, and watched him go to the filled water bowl in the centre of the room. He lifted the water to his mouth, not taking his eyes off her, and drank it in full. She smiled slowly as he did it, mildly embarrassed by his staring.

“So that’s what I did today, what did you do today?” he asked, putting the bowl back.

“I mended clothing, made some rags. Pottered about: nothing as daring as taking down a whole goat.”

“You tease,” he said, touching her face lightly. “But if we salt the meat we will have plenty for weeks.”

Kassandra nodded, dropping the shawl. It was a part of her armour, anyway, and she hoped to never have to wear it again.

--------

Darius had stayed in Hellas, refusing to leave Natakas just as Natakas had refused to leave Kassandra. He was out of the house for the most part: scouting the countryside, getting to know new contacts, checking for hints of the Order. He refused to settle; refused to rest. His attitude to Kassandra was cold at best, so she wasn’t perturbed by his not being around. And since Alexios had left, it felt like her and Natakas were finally able to just be.

She wasn’t paying attention to most things, drifting between being so grateful for her peace, and the domesticality that came with the house. They’d received it from a family in Dyme, paying them for the privilege of living here. They’d bought all of the furniture and decor too, with Alexios having added a few of his carvings around the house. One, the eagle he had started when Kassandra had first left to find Natakas, was settled in the centre of their main table, deflecting the candle light around it so it seemed to always be in flight.

Alexios hadn’t wanted to leave them, not really. He’d been running drills with Darius until a letter from their Mater called him home. Myrrine had guessed that Kassandra would stay with Natakas, but Alexios had hidden the rest of the letter from Kassandra, mildly embarrassed at their mother’s chastisement of him. Leave them be, come home, it had read. Myrrine had spoken like a married woman to her unmarried son: namely to let them alone. Alexios didn’t like it, but understood that the looks that Kassandra had for Natakas were not ones he wanted to intrude on.

He’d refurbished Natakas’ bow before he’d left, restringing it, and making some new arrows. At least, this way, Alexios could reason that they wouldn’t be completely unprotected should anything happen.

But why would it? The Order wasn’t in Achaia anymore, Darius was confirming that with his contacts.

So Alexios took Phobos south, back to his familial home, leaving Kassandra and Natakas to theirs.

Darius took no such hints. Though he was absent for much of the time, he seemed to return at inopportune moments. Kassandra was half tempted to negotiate the use of another house in town, but knew that Darius would never accept it. He’d been running and protecting his son for too long to let him live more than a mile away now. This, coupled with his coldness to Kassandra, created a tension which was common to most similar households. But neither Natakas, nor Kassandra, had ever really seen how married couples were meant to live with each other. Natakas’ mother had died when he was a boy, and Kassandra’s parents were unconventional.

The primary way this manifested was Kassandra’s fastidious unwillingness to touch Natakas at all when his father was around.

Once, when they’d just reached Dyme the three of them were going through the rooms of the house, finding things left behind, and deciding what to keep. Alexios had left to buy food from the village, and Darius, Natakas and Kassandra were going through trunks in the main living area.

“Look at this!” Kassandra had said, holding up a small wooden doll. “I wonder how many children have lived here?”

Natakas turned to her and, enamoured by any time Kassandra spoke about children, reached his hand out to stroke her hair. She glanced sideways at Darius, and shied away from Natakas’ hand, closing her eyes sharply as if she was afraid that his touch would burn her. Natakas was shocked into stillness, retracting his hand from her and giving her a concerned look.

“What’s the matter?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing!” she said quickly. She dropped the doll on the floor and left the room, heading outside to the garden. Natakas watched her leave, and picked up the doll to place it firmly on the ‘keep’ pile of their sorting.

He caught up to her when she was a hundred paces into the forest. He made to reach for her, but retracted his hand again, just in case.

“Kassandra?” he asked, standing a respectable distance.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “You’ll think it’s silly. I didn’t mean to shy away, I promise.”

“Then…?” Natakas asked, seeing this as permission to take her hand. He traced circles into her palm, knowing that this made her tickle.

“I just. I just have a thing about you touching me when people are nearby. I don’t know. I guess it was my father’s reaction to you, it frightened me.”

Relief flooded him. This was something he could manage.

“That’s fine,” he said, cupping her chin in his hands and tilting her head towards him. “We don’t have to touch when my father is near. I’ll just send him on lots of errands.”

That made her laugh, and he kissed her in the middle of the forest, with the eyes of nature on them.

--------

They’d been in Dyme for six weeks when Kassandra first questioned herself. She was sure that she was sure, but the uncertainty was terrifying.

It was Penelope, an older woman from town who had first piqued her thoughts. She wove cloth, and Kassandra had ordered some for a blanket, complete with little spots to place dried lavender.

“You can wash this fairly vigorously,” the old woman had said. “It’ll be easy to get milk out.”

“We don’t drink much milk,” Kassandra had replied, unsure of the last time she’d even seen the stuff and not immediately made it into cheese.

“No, but it’s not you I’m talking about.” Penelope laughed at her own joke, shaking her head. “I expect you’ll be wanting something of wool next? I need quite a bit of notice for that.”

“No?” Kassandra replied.

“You’re sure?” Penelope asked, looking into Kassandra’s face closely. Her eyes then travelled down her front, and if she’d been a man, Kassandra would probably have hit her.

Kassandra silently paid for the cloth, and returned to the house on the hill. She sat down in their bedroom to do some counting, not sure where to begin. They’d been in Dyme six weeks. She’d made the rags but not used them in that time, which was definitely weird, but she’d had times previously when things had become a bit jumbled: after Brasidas died; when she was starved in the Athenian cell. But those were both times of high stress, this was definitely not.

Six weeks in Dyme. A week or so working with Alexios in Patrai, a week on the Adrestia travelling to Patrai, a week in Sparta. Nine weeks since Natakas had fulfilled his Spartan obligations to her. She’d felt exhausted in Patrai, unable to keep up to her usual standard. She’d acclimatised now, and the rigour on her body had reduced since arriving here. Patrai was three or so weeks after Natakas had arrived in Sparta, definitely enough time for things to change within her.

But she hadn’t been sick, and she didn’t have any other symptoms usually associated with it. Though, she must admit, she wasn’t exactly an authority on the matter.

She put her head in her hands, and began to cry. Great rolling tears streamed down her cheeks and pooled in her hands. Her nose ran unchecked, with Kassandra not even bothering to consider it. This was what she wanted, she was sure, but the event of it, especially among everything else, was overwhelming. She kept silent while the emotion spilled down her face, not wanting to attract attention right then. This was her own private, ridiculous sadness at the uncertainty that lay ahead.

She was likely already pregnant when she’d tried to send Natakas away; she was likely already pregnant when The Tempest had blown up; she had been pregnant since Sparta. The blood that had so burdened her and her brother would now be the burden of another.

But she’d wanted this; she’d wanted this so much that her body sang with it even while her tears fell.

She sat huddled, waiting for the emotion to pass. It was where Natakas later found her: curled around the small wooden doll that they had found inside the house and covered in the blanket she had bought earlier that day.

“Kassandra!” he called, dropping what he’d been carrying. He ran to her, uncovering her face from the blanket and wiping her tears from her with his thumbs. “Kassandra, what’s the matter? What happened?”

She started laughing then, a mad, manic laugh at this whole ridiculous thing. She shook her head at Natakas who was searching her even while she shuddered through laughter.

“Kassandra?” he asked, finally convinced that she wasn’t hurt. “Please speak to me.”

She brought his face to hers, kissing him while wet with tears.

“We’re both fools,” she said quietly, smile in her voice.

Natakas risked a smile himself, still slightly shaken by her behaviour. “Why are we fools?” he asked gingerly.

“Because I couldn’t be parted from you even if I’d wanted to, and you agreed.”

“My love, you aren’t making any sense.”

“Because I carry a part of you always, and you carry a part of me.” She took his hands, still wet with her tears, and placed them on her stomach. “Always,” she whispered.

He looked from her face to his hands, rubbing the area where she’d placed them.

“You’re sure?” he asked seriously.

“Yes,” she replied.