For All The Ages

Thalia, acknowledged bastard of the Royal House of Dorion, was not the simpleton that so many assumed her to be.

It seemed to come with being the daughter of the goddess of beauty and love: everyone supposed that you could have no interest beyond fashion and relationships. Thalia was good at relationships, seeing them in others, or at least the potential for them. Other than that perception, and some minor shapeshifting abilities that allowed her to subtly change her features, her powers were extremely limited.

In her less charitable moments, Thalia wondered if her divine mother had meant for her to replace Alexandra entirely, or if Thalia’s lack of powers were why her mother had put so little effort into claiming her.

Alexandra’s mother had hand-delivered her to their father in front of most of an army and several courtiers, confirming her parentage for all to hear. Rumour had spread like wildfire, as everyone knew how Lady Eirna usually disdained anything to do with war. Yet she had entered a war-camp to deliver her daughter to their father. No one had any doubts about Alexandra’s claiming.

Thalia had been left in the royal nursery, discovered by a half-blind servant and only presented to her father and grandfather several weeks later, when they returned from that campaign.

Perhaps that was the way of the gods, to avoid becoming too attached to those children who would eventually meet the fate of all mortals. The legends were full of examples of divine rage and retribution when children of an attentive divine parent were taken from them. Famines, disasters, entire cities wiped out when a beloved child was lost.

Besides, if Thalia’s divine mother kept her distance, Thalia didn’t need divine powers to know that the rest of her family loved her.

Father had pushed for her to be acknowledged as his daughter, even if no one had proof of her mother, long before her features developed enough that the resemblance to both him and Alexandra became obvious. He knew who he had slept with, he claimed, and would not disrespect the gods by failing to claim his children. Even Grandfather, who had been pushing for Father to marry properly and get on with siring sons, hadn’t objected. Thalia couldn’t be a princess without a proven claim by her divine parent, but she was a King’s daughter, and that was far more than most demigoddesses were blessed with.

Alexandra, who could get away with sentiment in a way that their father and grandfather couldn’t, had never allowed anyone to treat Thalia as anything but her beloved sister. Thalia was not blind to the lengths Alexandra had gone to, in order to ensure that Thalia could live the life she wanted, and not the marriage alliances that were often the fate of illegitimate daughters.

Oh, certainly Alexandra claimed publicly that she’d turned down the multiple requests for Thalia’s hand in marriage for the sake of avoiding a Succession crisis, and put up with no small amount of grumbling from her council about it. But she’d only made the statement that Thalia would not be entertaining marriage offers after Thalia had confided in her sister that she wasn’t interested in men, and whether wooing Agathe would force her love into a conflict of interest.

Alexandra had sent them both on a minor but very public diplomatic errand to the island city-state of Lesbos, the one place in the empire where women could marry, and men were extremely scarce.

Thalia’s would-be suitors had taken the very blatant hint, after that.

Normally, Alexandra tended more toward subtlety, but occasionally she needed to make very pointed public gestures, and put up with everyone talking about it for months. And she had done it all to make Thalia happy.

That was why Thalia remained at Alexandra’s side, through the assassination attempts and the political strife and the general annoyance of dealing with the Council and Court in general; because they were sisters.

Thalia hadn’t been entirely convinced that an assassin bodyguard was a good idea, even if Alexandra was right that they had to sleep at some point, and the bribery was working out extremely well. The word fame of Sayfiya al-Aziz was already spreading far further and faster than a single assassin could manage on their own, to the demonstrated annoyance of the al-Aziz assassin clan.

Still, Thalia worried. That was her role, to help predict the long-distance threats, while Alexandra (and Sayfiya) neutralised the immediate ones. Who was to say that Sayfiya’s agreement was not part of a long game, to be close enough and trusted enough that she could finally strike without warning?

Of course, then the assassin just had to fall in love like a tonne of bricks with Thalia’s sister. There was no faking that kind of loyalty and devotion, not to Thalia’s senses. At least the assassin had good taste.

Thalia might have been annoyed on behalf of Alexandra's husband, but Ramessu was the oblivious sort, and being a reluctant political match, wouldn't have cared even if he had noticed.

Changing her features to match Alexandra’s was the work of a moment, something she had done thousands of times before. She looked at Agathe, pale but resolved.

They had always known that this fate was a possibility. Every Queensguard knew that they might one day be called upon to exchange their deaths for Alexandra’s life, even when it seemed such a remote possibility. Thalia had hoped that the day would never come, if only because she knew Alexandra would be devastated by said deaths, but it had.

Fiercely, Thalia hugged her sister, trying to impart a lifetime of love and gratitude, every unspoken ounce of feeling, into the precious second that they had left together.

Alexandra had always been too quick for her own good, and tightened her grip before Thalia could say a word. “Absolutely not. We will find another way.”

They did not have time for this, both in terms of the small army rapidly approaching, and with the possibility of Thalia losing her nerve. She locked eyes with Sayfiya, who nodded. Her eyes were sad and serious as the assassin reached for a nerve to knock Alexandra unconcious.

Thalia didn't envy her when Alexandra woke up. “Get her out of here, and make sure she knows that none of it was her fault.”

Perhaps one of them should have anticipated the murder attempt, but they’d all thought such attempts would come by daggers in the dead of night, not the very public and very obvious attempt to murder a popular Queen. None of them had thought the Council was stupid enough to shoot an arrow fletching-deep through their collective foot like that, so Thalia absolved herself of the fault of giving them too much credit.

Sayfiya nodded, and led the way to the harbour as Zoe did something that made shadows rise around them. Thalia gripped Agathe’s hand, and they ran in the opposite direction, not bothering with concealment.

Agathe drew her sword and raised her voice to a battlefield roar. “This way, Anassa!”

The mercenary force turned away from the harbour to chase them. But they were foreign sell-swords, while Thalia knew the city like the back of her hand. Thalia led the way to the market gate, where the crowds would hamper any pursuit, and a nearby forest offered the possibility of escape.

If they could make it in time…

It would be touch and go, but as they approached the crowds near the gate, a patrol spotted them. At first they saluted, but then spied the mercenaries giving chase. The patrol leader drew his own weapon. “To the Queen!”

Heads snapped toward them, and a path opened, clearing their way to the gate. They ran, and a glance over Thalia’s shoulder saw the space behind them closing just as quickly, people and carts and cattle blockading the soldiers who tried to follow.

Then they were through, and the gate was locking behind them, and they were sprinting for the cover of the woods before any archers worth the name could make it to the top of the wall.

They sheltered for the night in a woodsman’s lodge, then were offered a lift in a cart that was far less full than it had been on the way to the capitol.

Word of the attempt on Queen Alexandra’s life was spreading fast, and people were angry. Bad enough to force out a beloved Queen with an heir and a dynastic alliance sealed by her marriage, in favour of an obvious puppet, but to try and murder her as well... Thalia was pleased to see that the Usurpers were in for a fight.

Gripping the side of the cart tightly, Thalia looked to her lover. “I honestly didn’t expect for us to live through that. What next?”

Agathe was scanning the landscape, searching for threats. "We know where Alexandra will go, but we should not follow her. Not yet."

Not with the risk of leading an army to the very Queen they were trying to protect, she meant. Thalia had to agree, even as she wished she could reassure her sister of her survival. "If you are willing, we should force them to divide. With so many witnesses to Alexandra's survival, they can't afford not to follow up on every rumour and sighting they hear of."

Coins were never quite identical to the real thing, but every coin minted in the last 15 years had a reasonable likeness of Thalia and Alexandra's face, making them recognizable wherever they went. Agathe grinned. "Time to make a nuisance of ourselves, then."

Thalia matched her. "I'm starting to see why Alexandra enjoyed foiling assassination attempts so much. There's a certain low pleasure in ruining someone's plans."

It was black humour, and not really that funny, but Agathe laughed as Thalia had intended, and that was what really mattered.

Rumours spread. Whispers of a Queen and her faithful guard appearing and vanishing all over the empire's heartland. Stories of Queen Alexandra and her son carrying out mercy missions, while her allies targeted the mercenaries who sought her death.

The army proper were very good at arriving just slightly too late. Of course, the high commander had always been very fond of the Conqueror's daughters, and loathed anyone who wasn't willing to do their own fighting. Especially when mercenaries were involved.

Thalia dared to dream of seeing her sister again.

Word came of plans for a final battle, to smash what remained of the mercenary army. The two decoys made plans to leave and reunite with their family.

Perhaps a day's travel from the capitol, they were carefully navigating their way through a grainfield, "How angry do you think Alexandra will be?"

Agathe considered the question. "I think she'll cry, possibly punch us both, and then hug you. She's not made for lasting anger."

Alexandra's anger burned hot and fierce, and the embers could smoulder for a very long time, but they were sisters, and hopefully the relief would outweigh the pain-fuelled anger. "Do you think -"

Thalia stopped when Agathe suddenly held up a hand. "Do you smell that?"

Smoke. Not a small and carefully watched cooking fire, but thick and choking. Almost immediately after, Thalia realized the heat, hotter than late summer weather.

Had the battle spread so far, or were the mercenaries trying to create a pyrrhic victory out of spite, burning the fields as they fled? The reason hardly mattered now.

Scanning the horizon, red flames suddenly became visible near where the smoke was thickest. "Can we get out in time?"

Agathe shook her head. "We can try, but in a grainfield near harvesting, with so much chaff and dry stalks and grain? It would be a miracle."

They began to run anyway, ignoring the pain of sharp-edged leaves tearing at cloth and skin. The edge of the field was in sight when the fire suddenly jumped, embers blown on the wind, cutting off their escape.

Breathing was already difficult, and the fire was moving faster. There was no way out.

Thalia spun around and pulled Agathe into her arms. "It's a shame there's no way to make it quick."

Whether burning or suffocation, both were slow and painful deaths. Agathe didn't reply, but one of her arms moved, and there was a sudden sharp pain in Thalia's back, and a grunt from Agathe.

And then nothing.

Thalia opened her eyes being ferried across a dark river, the craft propelled by a ferryman shrouded in darkness. Agathe was next to her, and the rest of the ferry was packed with soldiers and the occasional person in peasant clothing.

The far shore came into view, and familiar figures waited to greet them.

Aleksandros, Conqueror of the World, father of two demigod daughters, reached out a hand to help Thalia onto solid ground, Paradise stretching out before them into eternity. "Alexandra will join us one day. But not yet."