Disclaimer: I don't own it…or I wouldn't be writing a fic about it.
Claimer: Only Andromeda, her family and the characters of the Cynurian army and any other characters you don't recognize from 300.
Rating: Rated T for minor language, violence and bloody/gruesome material
Author's Note: So, it's been a while since I've written a fic or updated my old ones (sorry Covenant and King Arthur fans). There are a few important details I would like to clarify with everyone before so we don't have any misunderstandings. First, this fic is slightly AU, you will find out why later. I have ALTERED the way some things play out in history although I did do extensive research of certain things to make it more accurate. I will warn you now, this fic is probably not very historically accurate, but I tried my hardest not to veer off course too much. This fic is movie-based, so character portrayals will depict their movie counterparts and I will be using scenes from the movie. The fic will start pre-movie, move into movie-verse and continue post-movie. Also, I will request that if you notice my OC becoming a little too Mary-Sue (I don't think she is *fingers crossed*), let me know so I can fix her. Alright, I think that about covers it so if I remember anything I will add it in later. But for now, read, review (please!) and enjoy!
~Chapter 1: The Cynurian Princess~
I was a Spartan- or at least half-Spartan anyway. My father was the brother of Leonidas I, King of Sparta. By birthright, my father was heir to the throne of Sparta but gave up its glory and instead claimed the smaller, neighbouring city of Cynuria as his own. Though formerly belonging to the people of Argos, my father had claimed victory over Cynuria and settled in the town of Astros which overlooked the Aegean. He was King Dorieus I of Cynuria, my mother Queen Andromache, and I…I was the Princess. I was the only heir to my father's throne and while many Kings would have been disappointed that their only child was a girl, my father was not upset.
My mother was a native of the island of Lemnos, the only known island where women-ruled society prevailed. My mother kept her customs and my father kept his and together they forged the unique culture that was Cynuria. As women, we were equal among men. We trained as they trained, studied as they studied and learned as they learned. We spoke in councils, worked outdoors, we were doctors and nurses and most importantly, we fought together as one united nation. Cynuria was the glorified city.
At least, that was what I was told. For the better part of eighteen years, I had neither been to Cynuria nor seen the countryside, despite having been born there. Upon my birth, my father took me from my home and gave me away for fear that if the Persians invaded and Cynuria lost, I would be subject to slavery or worse at the hands of the Persian King, especially considering that I was royalty. I was sent to live with my uncle and aunt in Sparta, King Leonidas and Queen Gorgo. For nearly ten years there was no war and I begged to go see the family I had never known. But the answer was always the same. Leonidas was not my father and while he raised me as his own, my real father still lived and it was only by his word that I could leave. The only correspondence I had were the letters written to me by my parents. Once a week I received a letter from them and sent one in return. They explained to me why they had sent me to live in Sparta and I understood. My father had named me after the legendary warrior Queen Andromeda who had married Perseus. But they never called me by my real name. To them, and to everyone else, I was Callisto, the beautiful one.
As the years went by and the threat of a Persian invasion dwindled, I so badly wanted to see my family. At first they thought it ill-advised but there was so much I wanted to tell them that couldn't be written in letters. I wanted to tell them about my secret training with my uncle Leonidas, who, understanding my family's culture, took it upon himself to train me in sword fighting. I wanted them to see how much I had grown, and how my aunt Gorgo refused to cut off my onyx locks which were now waist-long. I wanted to tell them about my friends and my two closest companions- two boys who would one day train for the Spartan Army- Stelios and Astinos. But most of all, I wanted to tell them of what I could see.
My uncle called it Apollo's Sight, for Apollo was the god of the Oracle. But it was something more. The Cynurians patron gods were Artemis and Apollo, the twins and Leonidas told me once how he believed the gift must have been Apollo's way to help me see my family. Not many knew that I had a gift as Leonidas warned me to keep it a secret. There were some people who couldn't be trusted with things like these.
And then the day came twelve years later when my father decided to send for me so I could go home. It was one of the saddest days of my life. I had not known my parents when they gave me away and though I longed to see them, it was an entirely different feeling than saying goodbye to the ones that raised me and to my friends. Aunt Gorgo was expecting her first child though, so it consoled her that she would have someone to care for in my absence. Stelios and Astinos had each other, although they admitted it would never be the same without me.
And so the glorious day arrived when I found myself twelve-year old self seated upon my very own throne, a true Princess, my parents at my side. They began to teach me the Cynurian way of life. My father was quite pleased at how good my fighting skills were but told me I still had a long way to go before completing my training. He was surprised that I did not know how to ride a horse, though I told him after that they did very little riding in Sparta. I gained my very own horse, as black as a shadow but stronger than anything I have ever seen. He became my closest companion. My mother continued to teach me literature, how to read and write properly and how to use basic things to heal wounds and cuts. I learned to stitch and sew both fabric and skin alike. My mother was surprised at how I was not faint of heart, how I could stand the sight of blood and gore and not be sick. I told her I had seen many bloodied men in Sparta. I grew closer to my parents in that short time that I never wanted to leave again.
And then they learned of my 'special ability' and my mother and father were so pleased they held a festival in the twin gods' honor although they never publicly announced why. It was the first time we had such a great feast. I told them the extent of my gift so far as I had understood it. I could not see the future of things or people, but I could sense the past of anything I touched. All I had to do was concentrate on that object, place a single finger against it and let my mind open. It was such a glorious feeling to be able to confide this secret with my parents.
There finally came a day when my father taught me to use a bow and arrow. It was harder than it looked but he taught me all Cynurians were master of the bow. He showed me his own, an ornate silver bow inscribed with precious words. He told me that one day when the kingdom belonged to me that I would be able to use it and I would understand the inscription.
My father was a very wise man and he dabbled in philosophy as much as he dabbled in politics. He let me reason and think and encouraged me to find an argument for my case before I presented it, just as Athena used strategy and wisdom to devise her plans and call off unnecessary wars. He told me often that a tyrant is always stirring up war so that people may require a leader. When I asked him what he meant he would only tell me to never forget those words. I never did.
And then it came.
A flood of Persian attacks drenched the city and my father sent me away at once as he headed out for battle with our finest soldiers. In my whole life, I had only known my parents, lived with them and saw them, for eleven months. I found myself back in Sparta with so much new information, and an experience I could have only dreamed of. My friends were glad to see me and I them. My aunt and uncle were happy to have me and their infant son, my cousin, Pleistarchus became the object we focused our attention on. My father had denied all military help. Sparta, the first to offer their troops had been declined four times, as had Argos, Nemea and even Thebes. My father wanted to fight this battle alone though none of us had any idea why.
I was growing up though, as were my friends. I was no longer the Spartan I had been as a child. As an adolescent I began to exercise my abilities as a Cynurian, my true heritage- a heritage not all in Sparta agreed with.
A/N: What do you think? Love it or hate it? R&R please, constructive criticism always welcome!