A Daughter of Creon

[Scooterly]

Thank you so much! ;D
Hope you enjoy the next part.

Part Four
The King's Death

Four years and two brothers later, Meg had developed an entirely new outlook on life. She was nine years old now, a big sister two little brothers (both a year apart), and it finally occurred to her that perhaps her father wasn’t the center of her universe. Her fear to cross him as a younger girl had vanished and now, there wasn’t a day that didn’t go by where she was making her brothers get into some sort of mischief and manipulating their small minds into thinking that she was always right. She took great pleasure in turning the tables on them, mostly on Haemon, since a lot of the time she was the one receiving punishment. She had learned quickly that as long as her father actually caught the boys at the scene, her story would be believed.

Haemon, four years old and very quick learner, had seemed to steal the spotlight from Meg and won over their father without even trying. His hair was darker like their mothers, but his build was destined to be as strong and proud as his father’s. Meanwhile, Menoeceus was the meeker child, regardless of the fact that he was three.

But lately, Menoeceus had been able to earn her sympathy. Meg was young but very observant and it didn’t take her long to realize that, despite the fact that the boys’ age was a year apart, Menoeceus got the longer time out, or the harsher lecture, or the sticky end of any punishment. It was this that began to draw Meg to her youngest brother.

“Menoeceus,”

Meg opened the door to his room a crack. She had heard what happened this time and she had nothing to do with it. Haemon was starting to learn her tricks and was using them on his three year old brother. She felt somehow responsible for this and took it upon herself to play the role of big sister.

The sniffling three year old sat in the middle of his room and looked up with glossy, brown eyes. His white blond hair seemed to be the only gift his father had given him; he even bore their mother’s finer features. When he saw her, he whipped his face on his sleeve and stumbled clumsily up to her, wrapping his arms around her middle. A great sense of pride overtook Meg and she knelt down, enfolding her small sibling in her arms.

“Daddy saw . . . daddy saw, Meggie!” he told her between sobs. And then with an angry flash in his eyes, he stomped his small feet. “I hate him!”

Even at nine years old, seeing a three year old say he hated someone felt far too strange.

“No you don’t, don’t say that Menoeceus.”

His bottom lip protruded out pitifully and he stared at the ground defiantly. Meg sighed and took his hand.

“Come on, let’s go see if we can scrounge anything up from the kitchens, hm?” she offered, knowing that the “sweet angelic child” had a certain cook already wrapped around his finger.

He nodded, now smiling again. As Meg led him down the hall, though, she could hear her father’s voice, speaking to a child; it had to be Haemon. A sense of curiosity overcame her but she was brought back to earth as Menoeceus tugged at her hand. She drew away her fingers gently.

“Go ahead, I have to go to the girl’s room, I’ll be there in a moment or two.”

“Okay,” he said, his mind sharpened on other matters.

He ran heavily down the hall, his sweet tooth expecting already a tasty treat that was sure to waiting for him. Meg’s attention returned to the sound of her father’s voice and she crept closer to the door that it was coming from. She stuck her ear to the side wondering if maybe Haemon was actually getting in trouble, not that she wished ill on her brother, just justice. She held her breath, concentrating.

“So . . . when is that dad?” she had to strain to hear Haemon’s small voice, but it was his nonetheless.

“When you’re older, but you should know now, so we can start marking the right path for you.”

Oh, one of these talks; Meg rolled her eyes disgustedly and moved to turn away when she heard something that seemed to slap her into a frozen state.

“You’re sister and brother is just going to get in the way, son. You must not let them, you must stay focused, they are . . . unimportant in this plan, understand?”

Meg didn’t want to hear any more. She pushed away from the door, angry tears starting to sting her eyes. He was only four, and her father was trying to tell him that she and Menoeceus didn’t matter? Didn’t he even care about what he was saying? She felt sick all of a sudden, and shook with a rush of strange emotions. How could he even say that?

“How are you today, Meg?”

She spun around, a small gasp emitting from her throat as she was caught off guard. She stilled her rapidly beating heart as she saw Teiresias and moved to embrace him gently. He was losing his sight slowly, whish was obvious by the expanding white spots in his eyes. Yet still he walked on, as strong as a young man as far as Meg was concerned.

“I’m . . . I’m fine,” she said, grinning. “You’re getting along fine, I hope?”

He seemed not to have heard her. “Were you going in to your father’s room?”

“Oh,” she blushed, not wanting to spill the truth of her overhearing. “I just had a . . . question, but I forgot- it wasn’t important anyway.”

He gave her a strange look but nonetheless shook his head, patting her on the shoulder. “No question is unimportant Meg, but a forgotten one . . . well, that just puts me up in line to speak with him then, eh?” He laughed lightly and she beamed, letting him continue. “I have come to advise him on a message he will shortly be receiving. If you can keep your curiosity to a minimum, I will let you know that you may wish to start packing your bags soon.”

Her eyes came alight and she clung to his arm. “Why? Is my father getting more money? Or . . . or is there some sort of rebellion? Do we have to move to a safer place?”

“Meg, Meg, Meg!” laughed the old man. “Keep your questions quiet, just for a while, I’m most certain you will find out soon enough. You know, most people find it improper for a young lady such as yourself to be asking so many questions when you were not told you could.”

She recognized the secret smile etched upon his lips. “Like you even care, Teiresias.” She looked around and then started to move away. “I have to go find Menoeceus before he gets himself into any more trouble; I will talk to you later, Teiresias!”

He chuckled warmly, pointing his walking stick at her. “And I will have answers to each and every one of your questions.”

She giggled and waved at him as she started to jog down the hall and turned the corner.

That brief encounter had left her feeling so much better, the fact that he wanted to speak to her was enough. The soothsayer had always been a part of her life, like the grandfather she never had. She still had a small smile etched on her lips as she came down the stairs, her long fingers trailing on the railing.

“Meg! Meggie,”

Meg turned, looking over her shoulder as her mother came at her briskly down the stairs.

“Where is Menoeceus? I looked in his room, I can’t find him and-”

“He was on his way to the kitchens, mama, you know he can’t turn down sweets.”

Eurydice sighed, obviously relieved and placed an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Good, good . . . Haemon . . . do you know where he went?”

“He’s with dad,” Meg said shortly, hiding the bitterness from her voice.

“Okay, everyone is accounted for then. Let’s go find that little brother of yours and make sure he’s still going to have an appetite for dinner, hm?”

After finding Menoeceus, Eurydice ushered them out into the garden. She loved to spend time with her children, clinging onto their innocence as much as she could before they grew up. Sitting on a bench, Meg curled up on her left and Menoeceus, face and fingers sticky with chocolate, snuggled into her right. They sat in silence for a while, though Meg’s thoughts seemed so loud, she wondered if her mother could hear them. For the longest time, she contemplated telling her mother what she had heard but was trying to figure out the best way to word it. Eurydice pulled both her children closer with her arms, enjoying the tender moment.

“I almost have all of my babies with me,” she whispered. “But I suppose I have to share with your father don’t I?”

Menoeceus nodded gravely, being newly taught about the rule of sharing, and Meg smiled meekly, nestling her head into her mother’s shoulder. At least there was one parent she was certain would not think her less than her brothers. But as Meg looked back upon her mother, she couldn’t bring herself to put the burden of her father’s words upon her. Her mother looked worn, tired, and older than Meg remembered her. Her dark hair was already graying and lines were appearing under her eyes. Besides, her mother enjoyed spending time with her children and Meg didn’t want to ruin one of her mother’s favorite moments.

Biting her tongue, she snuggled back into her mother’s side, the touch of Eurydice’s hand pushing any sorts of worries and fears away, smuggling the spark of anger Meg had felt burning in her heart.

It was later that afternoon when Creon ordered the family and other members of the House into his chamber. He welcome Haemon proudly by his side, Meg noticed with a hint of jealous hurt. She kept her head held high, standing beside her mother with Menoeceus clinging to her hand. There seemed to be an anxious tension in the air, Meg felt, and she shifted uncomfortably until her father spoke.

“Oedipus, King of Thebes, had sadly departed this world. His death will reach the news of the public tomorrow morning,”

Meg stood, numb to the words. She had heard little of her uncle Oedipus. By blood, she was not related to him- it was her father’s deceased sister, Jocasta that had been married to him. But that family had never been part of Meg’s life, as far as she could recall. His death hardly hurt her at all and she only half-listened to the speech her father gave about the wonderful King he had been and how his death would affect them all. It wasn’t until he came to his conclusion that she began to pay more attention.

“And in his leaving, he had abandoned his four children, requesting that his two sons take the throne together. Until they are of age, I have taken the responsibility of controlling the throne and taking them under my wing.” There was a glint in Creon’s eye as he said this, his hand coming to rest fondly on Haemon’s head. “And so, we will all be moving to the heart and soul of Thebes, combine our families, and give some solace to the children of Oedipus, letting them know that they still have family.”

Meg felt somewhat excited, if a little nervous. Four children, two sons specifically- did that mean the other two were girls? Would they be her own age? After growing up with two brothers both younger than her, she had began to crave more company with similar gender and age . . . she grew anxious at the idea and looked up, catching her mother’s eye. Her mother winked down at her and as they departed, Meg’s anger towards her father had drifted somewhat. Perhaps he was just anxious about the speech, maybe he was guilty about punishing the sons and was going to get Menoeceus after Haemon. Maybe all those things he said to Haemon were just his way of rescuing himself from having his children upset with him. Maybe he just had to learn the way mother’s disciplined . . .

By the time Meg’s thing’s were packed away, or at least the things she could pack herself, it seemed she had already forgiven her father and forgotten what she had said.

As a last thought before her mother came up to settle her into bed, Meg retrieved a familiar locket from a shelf that was positioned to the side of her bed and looked at the engraving of Aphrodite on the heart shaped locket and smiled to herself. Her father loved her, how could she had ever doubted that? He didn’t love Haemon more; he was simply excited that he had a son. She was only a daughter after all, greatness like that would never be hers.

She clutched the locket to her, still unable to open it, and fell back onto the bed, knowing that her excitement for tomorrow’s events was going to keep her awake for a good part of the night.

[megatude]

Such a sweet story. But I can tell, there's more that meets the eye.

[Arabella]

I agree with Lyndsay, there is more than meets the eye. It's such a wonderful story, can't wait to see where you take it!

[Scooterly]

Next part! ;D Enjoy.

Part Five
Antigone

Meg didn’t think she had ever been dressed up so formally. She felt stiff and the day was hot and she wasn’t exactly the most humble of young girls at the moment. Yet, she was still excited, anxious to see the new children she would be living with. She hoped they liked her . . .

As they stood in a grand hall, Meg was oblivious to how much more impressive this new place was compared to her former home, not that her previous residence was anything short of splendorous. Marble pillars rose up around her, a large fountain depicting a very expertly carved man in its center provided a quiet, serene feel for the area around them. Meg shifted a little, not sure how much longer she could stand waiting for the servant to announce their arrival or how long it would take for them to arrive and meet them . . . Menoeceus clutched her hand tightly.

“Can we go play now Meg?” he asked quietly, anxiously looking at all the statues and platforms outside; climbing was his favorite pastime that his mother absolutely loathed.

“No, just a little longer,” she told him, halfway speaking to herself. “We have to make a good impression you know.”

He sighed but his head high and straight.

Minutes later, a heavyset woman came around the corner, holding the hand of a small, very blond girl who looked perhaps a little younger than Meg, but was older than Haemon and Menoeceus. Meg stared fixedly, wondering what her name was, what she was like . . . she seemed very shy. In a line of three more kids followed close behind, lining up on her other side. The first two were boys and looked to be the oldest; the last two were girls and to Meg’s excitement, looked closer to her age. The older girl though, the one that had followed her brothers out, had a certain gloominess about her and was slouched considerable and not very proper looking at all. The woman nudged her in the side, whispering something in her ear. With a roll of her eyes, she stood up straighter, though her hip was still jutted out to the side.

“And who have we here?” Creon asked kindly, looking at the children with a glimmer in his eye. Meg continued to stare at the oldest girl with wonder.

The woman bustled forward, placing the younger girl’s hand in her sister’s. “I am their nursemaid; for starters, my name is Cora.”

She bowed her head lightly to Creon and stepped to the boys, her messy gray bun bouncing with her movements. “This is the eldest son, Polynices. Fourteen.” Polynices looked very picturesque for his young age and stood with an ease that noted his obvious rank on the social ladder. Swarthy dark hair and vivid brown eyes seemed to give a glow to his sharp featured face. He shook his hand strongly with Creon, looking him in the eye.

Cora waddled over to the next son. “The youngest son, Eteocles. Thirteen.” He was considerably stouter than his brother and still bore a boyish smile that gave away his blissful youth. His curly hair was blonder and longer, tied back by a leather band. He had sharp hazel eye though that also met Creon’s as he shook it. “And you recall being asked to guide both boys? Their father wanted them to take the throne together, switch off each year, you know . . . oh, how dearly he loved them!”

Creon nodded his understanding and Cora continued. “This is –”

“I’m Antigone,” spoke the eldest girl, a forced smile making its way on her face. “Ten.”

She looked remarkably different from her brothers; of course she stood a good deal shorter than them, but her features were softer. Her dark blond hair was cropped to the length of her chin and was straight, if a little messy. Her eyes were a vivid green and stood out like gems on her sun tanned face. Meg was certain she had found her favorite cousin. Creon smiled, shifting a little uncomfortably as Cora quickly and quietly scolded Antigone for speaking out of turn. Attentions were quickly refocused, however, to the youngest girl.

“And our little princess of the family,” Meg saw Antigone roll her eyes at this. “Ismene; seven and very shy,”

Creon had an easier time with the curly, blond haired, brown eyed, pink skin girl than he did with her sister. Though she tried her best to hide behind her nursemaid’s leg, Creon and Eurydice’s kind words did bring a small smile to her lips. Their father introduced them next, starting with Haemon and ending with her, which struck Meg as odd since she was the oldest but . . . perhaps it was just a . . . boy thing.

“I imagine you wish to speak with the boys?” asked Core pleasantly, motioning to Polynices and Eteocles. Creon nodded and Cora beamed and bustled Meg and her brothers over to the other girls. “I’ll take the children then.”

The families departed, Meg looking over her shoulder as her father retreated with the eldest sons and, to her confusion, Haemon. Why did get to go? Meg didn’t understand . . . it wasn’t like he was going to understand what was going on. She shook her head and sighed and then felt someone touch her shoulder softly and she turned to see Ismene smiling slightly at her, whispering a soft hello. Meg smiled at her as they walked together, flicking her attention to Antigone every so often as she walked ahead of them in a strange sulk.

“Your rooms going to be next to mine,” she said sweetly. “Cora says she talked to your father before meeting today . . . your favorite color is purple?”

Meg nodded with a half grin. “What’s yours?”

“Yellow,”

She continued talking to Meg, but Meg’s attention was focused elsewhere. It wasn’t until they entered a large room that she managed to comprehend anything else that was being said. Ismene gently grabbed her hand and led her over to a spot on the floor where a pile of toys had been laid out and colorful paper cuttings from what looked like a previous craft project. Ismene was busily arranging things when she stopped and turned to Meg.

“Oh! I know what we can do, hold on, I must ask Cora first!” she dashed away before Meg could say a word and disappeared over to Cora.

Meg looked around, first seeing Menoeceus amusing himself with something he found on the rug, and then she found Antigone, quiet and alone, sitting against the far corner. Meg looked back at Ismene who was talking vividly to Cora and then made her way over to Antigone, not sure what it was that drew her to this girl. She was only a year older than Meg, so she wasn’t too intimidated . . . but there was something about that piercing gaze that both frightened and intrigued Meg.

“Hello,” she said softly. “I’m Megara but you can call me Meg, all my friends do.”

Antigone turned sharply, and Meg shifted a little nervously as her voice came harshly in response. “Oh, do you have a lot of friends?”

“From . . . school . . .” Meg responded slowly, not sure how to respond to the tone Antigone had used, but was determined to have conversation with her cousin nonetheless. “Where do you go to school?”

“I don’t,” Antigone growled. “My father never thought girls should have an education . . . I suppose you think your father has special plans for you or something?”

Meg felt herself grow defensive, her temper rising unsteadily. What was wrong with this girl? What had Meg done to get this reaction? Before she could retort however, Menoeceus had taken her hand and was tugging gently. Meg turned to look at him, keeping her anger at bay as she met his large, brown eyes.

“Where Haemon go?” he asked her.

She sighed, not wanting to explain things in front of Antigone who seemed to have already placed Meg’s family at low standing point. “He’s with dad,”

“Why?”

She chose her words carefully, very much aware of Antigone’s sharp gaze at her back. “I guess dad wants him to learn something.”

Menoeceus stared at her, perplexed. Meg hugged him to her side.

“He’s only four . . . isn’t he?” Antigone suddenly spoke up. “Haemon, I mean?”

Meg hesitated slightly, debating between answering and leaving where she was obviously not wanted. And then, Antigone stepped up beside her, standing a few inches taller. Meg avoided her eyes purposely.

“Look, I’m sorry. . .” Antigone began and Meg paused, hearing a tone of sincerity in her voice. “I didn’t mean to come off like that, its just . . . I haven’t been sure what to think for the past two days; everything’s just happening so fast! And . . . I guess I judged you to soon . . .Our father’s never got along and it isn’t fair that I should take that out on you. After all, it isn’t your choice . . .”

Now Meg felt foolish; she had just lost her father and now Meg’s family was moving in . . . Meg sighed and offered a gentle, forgiving smile. However, Antigone continued, her gaze drifting to an open window on the other side of the room.

“I was always close to my father, even if I didn’t get all the good things the boys did. He still loved me and he never favored any of us. I just feel so . . . alone, in this! Ismene never spent much time with him, she’s Cora’s little pet and the boys wont say anything about it, they have to be strong for the rest of us and it’s so . . . aggravating!” Meg wasn’t sure what to say, and was suddenly uncomfortable. Antigone sounded on the verge of tears and Meg watched as the girl took in a series of deep breaths and when she spoke again, she was ideally calmer. “I just don’t know how to handle this I guess.”

“Antigone,” Meg began but was cut off as her cousin spun around, a gentle smile etching on her face.

“Call me Tig,” she said. “If had as many friends as you did, that’s what they would call me.”

“Tig,” Meg repeated grinning. “Hey, maybe my father will let you go to school? If you want to . . .”

“I don’t know Meg,” she shrugged and then quickly changed the subject. “Not to open any wounds, but why would your father take Haemon with him? He’s only four,”

“Daddy loves him more,” Menoeceus stated bluntly.

Meg nudged firmly. “No he doesn’t Menoeceus,”

Tig gave Meg an odd look and shook her head. “Ah well, it doesn’t matter does it? Regardless, wanna go snoop in on them?”

Meg gave her a strange look and Menoeceus nodded quickly. Tig laughed.

“I know the ins and outs of this house like you wouldn’t believe. There are hidden passageways everywhere and I know all of them. I know the perfect spot to overhear them talking,”

“You do?” Meg asked skeptically.

Tig had a sassy, impish look about her. “Yeah, are you in?”

“Can I go?” Menoeceus asked excitedly.

Tig ruffled his hair and laughed. “Sure thing kid, but you have to be quiet.”

“I can!” whispered the small boy.

Meg looked back at Cora and Ismene and Tig nudged her. “Don’t worry about them, Issy probably got distracted from whatever she was planning on getting. She’ll be with Cora all afternoon anyway.”

Meg looked at her and laughed nervously. “And you know your way around?”

“Meg,” she said, jutting her hip out to one side. “I could go through this place backwards and blind. Come on, it’ll be fun! A girl always has a good excuse for spying on her brothers, right?”

Giving in to the thought of adventure, Meg nodded and Tig gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Great! You know, Issy is always to afraid to do these things- it’s going to be great to have another girl like you around here Meg!”

With that she led them around the corner of the room, removed a loose stone in the wall and ushered them inside.

Meg shook with excitement, knowing that somewhere in all of this a rule was probably being broken . . . and she liked it!

[megatude]

Brilliant ma'dear. Absolutely brilliant!

[Scooterly]

Blah, I'm so late on the update . . . School got in the way as it tends to do. I hope this part is worth your while . . .

Part Six
The Game

Antigone’s influence on Meg had been a great one; audaciousness had blossomed in Meg that had been so merely mellow before. Tig’s world had opened to Meg with countless opportunities, or so it felt, and even Menoeceus had grown to embrace it. The trio was inseparable from day one and Eurydice had marveled at how close to the two girls were.

However, Tig’s influence on Meg had not gone unnoticed by Creon, who grown considerably colder toward his independent niece and made it a point to remind Meg of her social status on a regular basis, as well as the fact that she was female and was expected to follow the unspoken rules set for her. But how to keep two cousins who shared a room and were inseparably close to each other apart?

“He underestimates you,” Antigone told Meg one day as they sat out in the cafeterium of Thebes’s Private Academy, surveying the afternoon sky.

Meg, who was vaguely studying a scroll from school, didn’t both looking up as she responded. “Well, he’s afraid of you,”

Tig made a grunt like sound and leaned back against the bench. “Good, he should be.”

Meg chuckled slightly to herself, rolling her eyes. Tig the rebel; it made a good title.

Now fourteen and fifteen, the girls had blossomed into adolescence as they had been expected to. Meg’s figure began to take a coveted shape and her pigtails were a thing of the past. She was conscience that she caught the eyes of many young men and often found it a game to play with their minds, all the while watching with satisfaction the look of disgust on Tig’s face and the flicking, protective glances of a stiff, old Teiresias. Antigone, even, had matured into lovely, if untouchable, young woman by the standards of the other women of the house but had acquired an often frowned upon tongue that had managed to get her into more than enough trouble.

Perhaps this had been the reason Creon had finally let Antigone attend school with Meg when she was younger, in hopes of getting the little trouble maker out of his hair. She had adapted well to the environment, Meg felt, and enjoyed being around others of her own age. She excelled in literature, which was only slightly surprising. Antigone had been kept at home her whole life, it was a probable that she had found reading as a way to entertain herself somehow.

“Okay, the first thing I’m making my brothers do when they take the throne,” Tig poked boredly at her food. “Change the consistency of this stuff they call food . . . you shouldn’t have to worry about it crawling back up your throat in my opinion . . .”

Meg laughed. “If they don’t marry you off first,”

“They wouldn’t do that,” she proclaimed confidently. “They wouldn’t want to be responsible for the hostile take over plan I would concoct after dealing with the body of my would be husband,”

Meg shook her head and set down her scroll, smirking at Antigone’s serious face and sighed. “That would be the day . . .”

Conversation ended abruptly as loud, echoing ring sounded over the Academy. Antigone groaned, complained how much she hated cooking, and ran off to class without a second thought. Meg sighed, took one last look at her scroll and sulked off to her history test.

* * *

Meg’s head was spinning as she stumbled into gym. She had always assumed history would be a good subject for her, considering her family, but still it continued to play with her mind. Nonetheless, the chance to run and release some of her pent up energy sounded good to her, and she quickly changed into her cloths. Antigone was already outside, she knew- her cousin was always the first girl out of the locker rooms, already making bets with the boys as to who would win the day’s share of activities. Meg hurried out quickly and found Tig’s side with ease. She was smiling mischievously and Meg nudged her.

“Who’re you looking at?”

Without averting her attention, Tig smiled broader, her mind turning. “New kid, thinks he’s really something. Already told me to mind my place as a woman; that I didn’t belong on the field with the “big boys.””

Meg let out a breath and raised her eyebrows, a low whistle coming from her lips. No one ever spoke to Tig like that, she had made that clear on her first arrival, and Meg knew that something was going to be done about it.

“He’s about six feet, a bit on the heavy side but its all muscle. When he runs, he favors his left side some but it’s not his leg or his foot, I think there’s something wrong with his ribs. He probably covers up the pain to make himself look tough. That and he’s new and whether he shows it or not, he is nervous and trying to make an impression. That tells me he has a pathetic ego and I can work with that. He’s an exchange from Sparta. His name is Arsenio,” she had a twinkle in her eye as she turned to look at Meg. “Sounds a bit like “arsenic,” doesn’t it?”

“Someone’s feeling morbid today,”

“Meg,” she chuckled lightly. “I’m on the warpath.”

Meg crossed her arms and studied their new adversary. “I’m right behind you,”

Dodge-ball was Tig’s favorite sport and it was also her best. Meg also excelled in the art of plundering her classmates with sports equipment and the duo were often feared when together, which was why the team captains were always so quick to get one on each side. However, as fate would have it, their coach had placed Antigone at the head of one team and Arsenio at the other. Meg could practically see Tig glowing with excitement as she called Meg to her side, her eyes alight with some sort of Amazon like lust to fight. Meg stretched out her legs some, watching Arsenio smile smugly at the two of them.

He really was annoying, Meg concluded and she was simmering with similar dislike. Women could be just as strong as men and he was going to learn that lesson the hard way. This wasn’t Sparta, this was Thebes.

For a brief moment, Meg’s mind drifted and her eyes went unfocused as she gazed at the far wall. The sound of the talking students was suddenly muted and she heard only the sound of the scene that played out in her mind, of her father yelling harshly at Haemon to ready him for the game. She was no longer playing with her classmates; instead, she was playing a game of favorites with her younger brother. She saw him standing on the opposing side, other team members nothing more than dark shadows, and she pictured him older than he really was. He was laughing at her, turning a ball in his hands, standing proudly to show their father no fear. Meg knew their father was watching, knew that she was no the one for whom he was yelling for, knew that he wanted to see Haemon take her down and win the game.

The game. What game were they playing again?

A game of favorites . . .

”Meg . . .” taunted young Haemon from the other side, waving the ball around smugly.

She clenched her jaw tighter, her eyes flashing. She imagined herself throwing everything she had at him, showing him just what it meant to be the older sibling. For a while, anyway, she had a place above him and she had to show him that, she had to show herself that . . . she had to show her father that . . .

Megara . . .

“MEG!”

Tig’s bellow jerked Meg from her thoughts, causing her to jump clumsily to her feet. Tig raised an eyebrow at her.

“Just making sure your back with us,” she threw her a ball. “You ready to make “Arsenio” swallow a bit of his own poison?”

Still a little dazed, Meg smiled and nodded, winking. “Let’s get it over with!”

With a single word of “go!” from the coach, Tig led them all into battle, her prey already targeted. Meg darted off to the side, quickly jumping over a fallen comrade who had been in the front and was the first to be hit. She would let Tig have the first shot and come in later when it was least expected. Right now, she would take out his team, one by one, and weaken his defenses. Perhaps when he came back in, she would have an easier time getting to him.

The competitive nature in Meg was guiding her concentration as she dodged and threw, ducked and weaved . . . it was like a dance almost. You had to be light on your feet, quick and merciless. You didn’t have time to re-step your mistakes, you just had to go on. She heaved a ball at a singled out youth, gave a triumph yell as he was struck, and sprinted back out of range. Now weaponless and winded, she scanned the playing field for a current outcome, coming out of her tunnel vision just long enough to take it all in.

Arsenio was one of the few still standing on his side. Antigone was watching him warily as she ganged up on one other singled out target on his team. He would have to hit one of her team before another one of his own could come back in and the odds were most certainly against him. Meg studied him for a moment longer as he went back to back with another team mate, speaking quickly as they looked hopelessly at the balls that had piled up on the opposing side. He was clutching his left side, as Tig had made note of before, and she saw him curse sharply before nodding to an unheard statement made by his fellow. They looked at the opposing side again, back at their massacred team members and looked like they were readying themselves to run.

Meg grinned as she realized their intentions . . . it was just the two of them, she could take them.

They broke into a sprint an instant later, charging on as though it was their last hope, their last feeble attempt at victory. Meg sprang into action, flying over to the stash of dodge balls that had seemingly piled up. By the time the rest of the team noticed what was happening, the two were already over the line, straining to reach the stash of dodge balls. Meg quickly estimated the distance between them and her and made a leap to make up for what was lacked. She swiped up the closest ball and took out Arsenio’s comrade with a lethal throw. The team was swarming around them now and Arsenio was once more armed, though sorely outnumbered. Seeing his predicament, he threw a second ball at Meg, who ducked and gave him just enough of a hesitation to retreat back to his side.

Meg swiped up a ball and took off after him, Antigone hot on her heal.

“I got this one, Tig!” she exclaimed as she sprinted after him.

As he got in range, he threw his only hope behind him. His aim was good, Meg noted as she ducked and heard the whistle of the ball flying past her ear. On impulse she retaliated and marveled at his agility as he leapt and let the ball bounce off the fart wall. Now both weaponless, he turned, flicking his glance to her and then to her team members. She could hear that no one was moving, she could feel their eyes on their back. She looked back at them, wondering why they weren’t chucking balls in his direction but found that they were looking slightly past her. She turned back around, her heart thudding hard in her chest. Arsenio was looking at the ground as well and she followed his gaze, her heart giving a wild leap of excitement as she saw the object of everyone’s attention.

A solitary ball had rolled and stopped in-between the two of them. Whether it had originally been hers or his no longer mattered; it was no free game, taunting the two of them to fight for the prize. He twitched slightly and she looked up at him anxiously. He was gazing back at her and she caught his dark eyes with her own. The world was silent save for the labored breathing of the two opponents. They stared almost daringly at each other, studying the other, measuring them up. Who would move first? Who would get the ball? Time seemed to have slowed, Meg noticed as she watched a bead of sweat drip down over Arsenio’s red nose, feeling her own flushed face damp with perspiration. It was though they were waiting for the other to blink, to take that slight moment of vulnerability to act. She could run back to her team and not risk being in his line of fire, she could go back to the safe haven her team provided. It might be the smarter move.

But she saw Haemon there, she saw her brother, she saw the smug look on his face that made her want to smack him and show him his own place in the family . . . their father was wrong . . .wrong . . .

She had to prove it.

The second her brain took this in, she was streaking towards the ball, her ears filling with the cheers and encouragement of her team. She could sense Arsenio close by her, the heat of his body radiating off of him as they both pushed themselves to their limits to reach the ball first. Meg made another leap, confident now that she would be the one to reach it first, feeling already the texture of its surface. The instant her fingers touched the ball, she felt something heavier slam into her side and she found herself suddenly airborne, landing with a heavy thud feet away from where she was originally. She had little time to ponder though as she suddenly found Arsenio landing on top of her, his heavy body knocking the breath out of hers.

For a moment nothing registered, her eyes welding with tears as she struggled to breathe again. She heard her name being called but couldn’t decipher who was calling. It took her only a moment to realize that she had the ball still clutching in her hand, curled under her tightly. With one last bit of effort, she elbowed up in a vain attempt to get him off her back . . . but for some reason he wasn’t moving. Her tunnel vision got the best of her and she struggled and wheezed . . .

“Meg!”

It was Tig’s voice. It made her work faster, try harder to get out from under the brute who mocked her gender. But like the sweetness of relief after heavy guilt, she suddenly felt her body relieved of his weight and spots appeared in front of her eyes as she took in a deep breath. Arms were reaching under her, pulling her up as she coughed and sputtered . . . but she felt blind. She felt certain that the game was not over, that she still had to prove herself to him. She struggled out of the hands that held her, stumbled dumbly to the only person she saw, which was merely a mix of Arsenio and Haemon. She didn’t make note that he was being supported, she didn’t register that he could barely breathe or open his eyes . . .

She hurled the dodge ball with the last bit of strength she had left, her aim striking him in the left side, causing him to cry out in pain.

The same instant, a chill went down her spin, as though another part of her was conflicting with her focus. Antigone was talking to her again and pulled her back roughly as though keeping her from attacking. Like she had the strength to do anything more . . .

“Meg!” Tig’s voice broke into her mind. “Megara, are you alright?”

She felt her knees give way and Tig supported her to a bench. The coach was talking, yelling . . .

“Meg . . .?”

She nodded heavily, her head spurting with pain. She felt confused and dizzy. Colors continued to pop in front of her eyes.

Something had happened, the game had ended on a strange note . . . but before she could ask what happened, she felt herself slump against Antigone, weak and sick. She didn’t feel her cousin shake her, could hardly hear her name being called.

She had won the game, and that was all that mattered.

[megatude]

She won the good fight! That's the way to do it.

[Scooterly]

I wasn't sure if I liked this part or not . . . Hope it's okay!

Part Seven
The Aftermath

When Meg awoke, she felt hot and sticky, torchlight dimly lighting the dark room she was in. Vague thoughts of what had happened came back to her in a rush and for a bleak moment, she wished only to disappear into oblivion . . .

“Ah, Megara, good to see you are awake!”

“Teiresias?” she murmured and quickly started to sit up. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“Oh, a few hours at most,” he walked over to her beside, coming into the light with a steady clunk of wood against the ground. “I never assumed you were the type to faint, Meg.”

“I fainted?” she asked softly, feeling a slight damper on her pride. “I guess . . . it could be worse. What happened to . . . Ars . . .the other guy?”

“Indeed it could be worse. Let me tell you, your mother was a frantic mess when you got home, but Cora’s a good woman when it comes to the children. You hit your head pretty hard, Antigone can vouch for that, but that seems to be minor.” He cleared his throat and coughed sharply into his elbow. “Cora seems to think you over exerted yourself and having a heavy fellow like Arsenio knock the breath from your body probably didn’t do you any good.”

She nodded slowly. “And what happened to him? I remember . . . he was in pain . . . what was wrong with him?”

The old soothsayer sat on the edge of her bed. “Now is not the time Meg; I want to know more about you, about what’s been on your mind.”

“Teiresias . . .” she sighed, turning away from his gaze.

He placed a frail hand on her shoulder, making her look at him. She grew quiet under his firm gaze. “I know you’re competitive Meg, and I admire that, but what happened today was more than just your competitive nature getting out of hand.

“Antigone told me what she saw today. She said you were extraordinarily focused; you hardly paused until the end. She also gave me a vivid recount of your new boy in the class, with quite the colorful word choice I might add, and how he had angered her. She informed me that you had both been quite determined to prove him wrong in his opinion of women and she admitted that perhaps she was being a bit harsh.”

“Maybe,” Meg admitted, remembering how she had threw the ball at him, even when they were both being helped to their feet. She had felt so puppet like at the time, as though she hadn’t had control of her body.

“But that isn’t the point.” He said softly. “Antigone said that, even after he had stumbled and fallen into you, you were so determined to win the game. She “clearly” described it as you being focused and ill-focused all at the same time, like you were playing the game but imagining yourself somewhere else. She was very worried for you Meg, she thought that it might have had something to do with you hitting your head against the ground.”

“I don’t even remember hitting my head . . .” she recalled. “Just that it hurt afterwards,”

“I see,” Teiresias nodded. “What do you remember, exactly?”

She sighed. “Well, it was at the very end; we both saw a ball and went for it. I was so determined to get it; I couldn’t hear anything, I couldn’t see anything other than that ball . . . I did get it first, but he must have fallen into me. I remember clutching the ball to my chest and landing a few feet away. I couldn’t breathe . . . but it didn’t scare me,”

“Because you had gotten the ball?” she nodded and he thought about it for a while. “You seemed very determined to get him, was it just because of the comment he had said?”

She shrugged and avoided his eyes. She remembered feeling very angry, perhaps some for the comment but there was another reason . . . the comment had triggered a thought in her mind of Haemon and of her father. She had to admit that she remembered thinking about them clearly, just as clearly as she had been thinking about getting to the ball first. She felt guilty about it now, having so much anger directed towards her young brother; what was she? Six? She shouldn’t be having jealousy issues with either one of her brothers. But then, she reasoned, it really wasn’t jealousy . . .

Before their conversation could continue, the door to the small room opened and a shaggy blond head poked its way through.

“Meggie? You awake?”

Meg smiled; it was Menoeceus. “Sure thing, kid,”

He stumbled in, Antigone behind him, quickly followed by Eurydice who seemed pale and tired. Teiresias moved from the bedside and sat down on a chair in the corner, letting her family pile in. Menoeceus jumped up on the bed and threw his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. He was tall for an eight year old, she made note, and he was growing up fast . . . At least she had one brother that wasn’t turned against her. For a while after, she spoke with her mother, assuring her that she was okay and that she could return to school tomorrow. With a few final words of goodnight, her mother and brother left but Antigone stayed behind.

She was looking at Meg quietly, having not said anything the entire time Meg wondered what was on her mind. Vociferous Tig always had something to say. She came right next to Meg, her bright eyes flickering with the torchlight. She was shaking her head, acting as though she were trying to say something. With a small exhale, she finally did so, but in a low, graveled voice.

“Don’t you ever scare me like again,”

“Tig, I . . .”

“I thought something else was wrong with you! I thought you were injured like . . . Arsenio or something! Do you know how hard it was for me to get someone to help? You were just the girl, just the daughter of Creon, you weren’t the Spartan exchange student who was having problems breathing! You had just passed out, that was all!” Meg flinched at the sarcasm in her voice. “I kept talking to you, but you weren’t responding and I couldn’t help but think the worse . . . I haven’t left the door the entire time since you got home, because I had to be here. And it didn’t help that Ismene was certain you were going to die . . . the pessimistic little prat . . .”

Meg didn’t know what to say and avoided her eyes pointedly.

“I’m sorry,” Tig said after a moment, taking a deep breath and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I was just . . . and then Arsenio . . . Gods, you scared me . . .”

Meg studied her cautiously, seeing the tired, drawn on her cousin’s face and reached out to grasp Antigone’s hand. Tig wasn’t usually one to worry so frantically and it placed Meg in a rather guilty position. She took a deep breath.

“I didn’t mean to worry you Tig,”

The blond girl smiled slightly and punched Meg lightly on the shoulder. “Yeah, just don’t do it again or I’ll knock you out myself,”

Meg laughed slightly and leaned back against the pillows, looking up at Teiresias. The old soothsayer raised an eyebrow at her and pushed himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his staff. Antigone moved over slightly, allowing him some respectful room.

“I’m still curious to your thoughts, Meg,” the elder said calmly. “But I suppose all of us had a long night. Our conversation can continue tomorrow.”

Meg nodded, said good night, and watched the old man exit. She sighed and began wondering how she could avoid it.

“Your thoughts?” Tig was giving her a questioning look and Meg shrugged.

“He thinks I’m distracted and that I overexerted myself for reasons other than competition.” Tig looked away and nodded, which Meg found irking. “You think I over reacted to,”

Antigone threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know Meg! Before the game started you were off in “Megara-land” and you played hard and good but at the very end, it was like . . . you couldn’t even answer me. Arsenio was obviously hurt and barely breathing and yet you still threw it at him anyway, right in the stomach . . .” she sighed and bit her lip for a second and then shook her head. “That wasn’t like you Meg. I know you disliked the brute as much as I did but . . . he was already down, you both were.”

Meg swallowed and nodded. She vaguely remembered the incident and the conflicting feelings that were taking place inside her. Wishing to change the subject, she spoke up again. “What happened to Arsenio?”

Tig shook her head. “Cora said not to tell you yet until she was certain you were completely fine. She doesn’t want to stress you.”

Meg glared at the wall. “I am completely fine! My head just hurts a little bit . . . Come on, I can handle it.”

Tig sighed and turned, look her cousin in the eye. “Fine, but don’t tell the old hen I told you,” Meg nodded. “Well, turns out I was right about the broken rib, the idiot shouldn’t have been playing anyway, but you know Spartan boys . . . they think with testosterone. Anyway, they think that when he landed on you, he might have jabbed something inside . . . but now there’s talk that they are blaming you because you threw that cursed ball . . .”

“Blaming me for hurting himself further? How does that make sense?”

Tig shook her head, fidgeting with the edge of a blanket. “No, Meg, listen to what I’m saying . . . we may not have the beast healers in the city, but I’ve heard that they established that his rib has definitely punctured something . . . something important.” She paused, looking at Meg with forced calm. “They aren’t sure if there is anything to do or if it is how bad they are assuming it to be,”

Meg was quiet for a moment as she grasped the full meaning of her words, feeling suddenly cold. “They think he might . . . die?”

Tig shrugged. “It’s up in the air right now . . .”

“But how can they blame me? I mean, I could have easily been as hurt as he was,”

“Yeah, but they aren’t looking at the fact that he landed on you. All his new friends are more concerned with the fact that you hit him in the stomach and he lost more air he couldn’t draw back in.”

Meg went quiet, colder than before. What if it really was her fault? Gods, she was going to be sick . . . She sighed and leaned deeper in her pillows, wishing she could just disappear.

“Don’t beat yourself up Meg,” Antigone said, seeing her distress. “It really wasn’t your fault at all. It’s easy to see that it was a fluke that he tripped and fell. He shouldn’t have been running anyway if he was injured as bad as he was before. Besides, what are they going to do, throw the daughter of the King of Thebes into a cell that her father owns? It wasn’t anyone’s fault,”

Meg couldn’t smile at Tig’s attempt at adding lightness to the subject. Instead, she drifted through her thoughts, trying to see a more positive side to this. He could get better; perhaps it wasn’t nearly as bad as everyone thought . . . tomorrow was a new day. Who knew?

“Has my father said anything?” she asked impulsively, not really sure she wanted an answer.

Tig hesitated for a moment. “Haemon thought it was “really neat” that his sister beat up a Spartan . . .”

Meg, not sure whether or not that was a good thing, raised an eyebrow and urged her to continue.

“And . . . well . . .” she shrugged. “Your father didn’t say much but I could tell he was angry. He said he expects you’ll be well enough to return to school tomorrow.” She stood up and stretched her legs. “Among other things,”

“What other things?” Meg asked with dreading curiosity.

Tig looked remarkably depressed again and shook her head. “Nothing really to be certain about anything right now, he was just angry. At least, that was what Aunt Eurydice said . . . it’s nothing to dawdle on right now,”

“What did he say?” Meg asked firmly.

Tig shook her head, forcing a smile. “I shouldn’t have brought it up, it’s not important. I should go to bed,”

“Tig, what did he say?”

“We’ll talk more in the morning, good night Meg, rest well,”

She turned on her heel and left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

“Antigone!” Meg called out, but her voice echoed emptily and the door remained shut.

She sighed and rolled over, her body aching slightly. This had been such a crazy day . . . if only she could start it over again. The world was full of ifs, however, and Meg felt unable to do anything about it. The most she could do now was pray that he would be okay, even if he was a pompous, Spartan nobody. She sighed and kicked some of her blankets off, laying sprawled out in her bed thinking about what tomorrow might bring.

Her dreams brought her no reassurance.

[megatude]

Hey, I liked it. Sometimes ya gotta fill in the gaps, so your audience will follow and understand.

[Scooterly]

Ha . . . ha . . . updates . . . I finally updated! Sorry so late . . . been busy with holidays and school . . . as well as another Herc-related project I really really wanted to get up BEFORE chirstmas but . . . ya know . . .

That and I've been in a flux. I think I'm out of it now. I hope I am. I'll try and update more often!

Enjoy

Part Eight
Arsenio

It was weeks before Arsenio returned and when he did, the school grounds became a tense and quiet place. Meg was just relieved that Arsenio was well.

Tig and Meg were seated at a table for lunch, deep in conversation as they often were. Meg had healed from her bruises without complaint and Tig was keenly plotting revenge for Arsenio, despite Meg’s persistent “no’s” and “don’t you dare’s”. Rumors were flying around that Meg had tried to kill Arsenio and that her father, King Creon, was backing his daughter up. Meg didn’t see how Tig would help matters.

“Listen! We can do this in an inconspicuous way and . . .”

“No, Tig,”

“C’mon Meg! He deserves it,”

Meg raised an eyebrow. “Does he?”

“You have any doubt?”

Meg sighed and returned to her food. Antigone was always one to bring trouble on, some how, some way. Meg assumed it gave her a thrill that she could not find in her home life. They were women after all, women of nobility and sometimes, excitement was rare. Meg looked up again at Tig, but her cousin was looking past her.

“Well, speaking of the imp,”

Meg turned to see Arsenio coming towards them and stiffened; what did he want? She looked at him with question as he came over and stopped before them.

“May I have a seat?”

Meg turned and raised an eyebrow at Antigone who snorted with suppressed laughter.

“Whatever your little friends set you up to, Arsenic, I suggest you leave now before you get the pulp beat out of you. Again.” Tig said this all with a sly smile.

Arsenio didn’t seem to even flinch of the name calling and shrugged his broad shoulders. “I guess I don’t have the number of friends I thought I had,”

Meg looked up at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“I guess, being a Spartan, you aren’t supposed to get beat by a girl.”

“He has a point,” Tig said with a smirk. “So they abandoned you did they? And why come running to the victorious opponent?”

“A good warrior knows when he is beaten by a worthy opponent.” He gave Meg a large grin. “I’d like to pay my respects . . . Megara is it? Daughter of Creon?”

“That’s me!” Meg said with a nervous laugh. “My friends call me Meg,”

“And Antigone? Daughter of Oedipus?”

Tig saluted. “The one and only!”

Tig seemed reluctant to make room but Meg, won over, scooted over and slapped the table top. “Have a seat,”

He hesitated and then sat down with a slight ‘thank you’. “I really wanted to apologize for what happened; I didn’t mean to hurt you,”

“It’s alri-”

“You were pretty stupid,” Tig said, cutting Meg off. “I mean, come on! You were already injured.”

He nodded and laughed slightly. “Very true,”

“Not to mention you were playing against the noble children of Thebes . . . you’re lucky you weren’t beheaded!”

“Tig!” Meg kicked her under the table. She looked at Arsenio, who had suddenly gone white. “Don’t worry, my father wasn’t even upset over the occasion. I’m not even sure he realized you were a part of it.”

“Yeah, he was to worried about fawning over your little brother,”

Meg nodded slightly. “Probably,”

Arsenio, feeling a strange tension in the conversation, knew he shouldn’t butt in and so concentrated on his food. Tig smiled and pointed her fork at him.

“So, Arsenic,” Meg rolled her eyes as Tig began to speak. “What brought you to the land of Thebes anyway?”

“Better school system,”

“Oh, how exciting,” Tig said. “So what’s your next class?”

He thought for a moment and then responded with a sigh. “Cooking . . . can’t do it to save my life really.”

“Hey! You and me both, bud.” She gave him a smile, a real one to Meg’s amazement. “We can suffer together!”

He laughed and nodded. “Sounds like a date!”

Tig smirked and rolled her eyes as Meg giggled at her.

* * *

The end of the day came way too slowly and the heat of the sun made it that much longer. Meg drug her feet as she retreated from the campus, looking around for Tig and their new found friend. She couldn’t see either of them and so she sauntered to the edge of the grounds and leaned against a wall, waiting.

It was strange how Arsenio had come along, seeking friendship. But she didn’t mind. She actually felt a pang of sympathy for him. Being a Spartan came with a heavy stereotype . . . but he seemed to look beyond that. Or at least, he was now. He wasn’t a bad person really, she figured, and he was very polite . . .

“Meggie!”

She turned her head at the sound of her nickname and grinned as Menoeceus came sprinting towards her. She stood up and opened her arms as he jumped into her embrace. She ruffled his hair.

“What are you doing here, kid? You’re not by yourself are you?”

“Nope!” he said, grinning toothily up at her. “Poly’s here with me,”

She looked up as Tig’s eldest brother came striding up to them, smiling broadly. Meg greeted Polynices with a grin and then seeing she was alone, gave her a suspicious look.

“Tig’s not in trouble again, is she?”

“I don’t . . . think so,” Meg said looking behind her. “So what are you two doing in the city?”

“Getting away from the house . . .” he said sternly and then he pulled Meg aside. “I’m sorry, Meg, but I’m halfway tempted to wrench the throne from your father right now.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked concernedly.

He sighed before beginning. “You know how he always has Haemon with us? When we’re fighting, being taught, and overall learning the ropes of leadership? I always thought it was in effort to show his son the sacrifice and work it took to be a leader. I simply thought that Menoeceus was never interested; after all, that’s how our father taught my brother and I. But today, he took Eteocles aside and I overheard him explaining how he thought him the better leader, that Eteocles could one day rule without the “weight” of an older brother.”

Meg felt her stomach drop. “You can’t be serious?”

He nodded heavily. “I’m not sure what was going through my brother’s head, but Eteocles didn’t say much. Of course, all of this was after your father explained to Haemon how Menoeceus is a coward and will never arise to greatness like he would.”

Meg turned to look at her younger brother, but found he was contentedly amused by a pile of ants on the ground.

“Meg,” Polynices brought her attention back on him. “I don’t mean to burden this on you, but do you think your father’s plotting something?”

Meg felt speechless, but dumbly she nodded. “I can’t believe this,”

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “And it may be nothing, we may be overreacting. Your father is known for outlandish schemes when he’s in the right mood, as well as undeserved periods of anger. Menoeceus was okay- I talked to him a bit. Haemon even came out a bit later and apologized for calling him a name. Haemon’s a good kid, but I think he’s easily impressionable . . . if anyone needs help, it’s him, especially now.”

Meg took a deep breath and looked again at her brother. As the elder sibling, she felt responsible some how, and made her mind right then and there that she was going to do what she could to keep her brothers out of her father’s plot, assuming he had one.

She felt like tearing up as she reflected on how little she knew her father and how little he knew her. There were times when she wondered if he even cared about her anymore but she always argued with herself that he was her father. He just got distracted with keeping his land under control and answering letters and performing tasks . . .

“This family can’t fall apart.” She heard Polynices say. “We are the next generation and I will rule with my brother by my side. That was how our father wished it to be, and that is how it will be kept. If we split now, there is no saying what the future of Thebes will be.”

Meg gave her best encouraging smile and put a hand on his shoulder. “I think you’ll make a great ruler, Polynices.”

He gave her a one armed hug. “Thanks Meg, I hope I will be. Now where is my sister?”

Meg shrugged and turned again, looking over the campus until she spotted Antigone, strolling casually with, lo and behold, Arsenio by her side. As they came closer, Meg suddenly gaped.

He was carrying her scrolls.

“Some of us would like to go home,” Meg told her playfully as they joined them.

Tig smirked. “I’m not stopping you,’

Meg gave her a questioning look, as though asking what she had threatened Arsenio with and Tig gave her a stubborn “don’t-ask-questions” look. Meg shook her head. Menoeceus ran up to join them, greeting Antigone excitedly. Tig introduced Arsenio (Arsenic as she so elegantly called him) and took her scrolls back. She said goodbye to Arsenio and gave her a wink, waving to Meg.

“Okay, what’s going on?” She asked her brother quickly. Sometimes she amazed Meg with how intuitive she was.

Polynices jerked his head and began forward. “We’re going to go for a ride around Thebes-”

“You said we’d stop and get stuffed grape leaves!” Menoeceus spoke up indignantly.

Polynices rubbed his head. “And we’ll stop and get some stuffed grape leaves.” Antigone caught up her brother and he gave her a serious look. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Meg followed close behind, keeping close to her brother, hoping that they really were overreacting.

[sereneflower]

Awesome!! So Arsenio wasn't such a bad guy...or maybe he's just trying to get back. I can't wait for the next chapter!!

[megatude]

Oh yes! This is getting interesting.

[simba]

this is a great story, want for more!

[Scooterly]

Look another incrediably late update . . .
Hope it's worth the wait! Thanks again to everyone who replies!

Enjoy . . .

Part Nine
“Long Live The King”

“Are you often this late coming home?”

Meg and the others turned upon hearing the old voice great them as they came off the chariot. They turned to see Teiresias coming towards them and Menoeceus bounded happily up to the old man, embracing him around the middle. Teiresias chuckled and then regarded the rest of the group with a critical eye, waiting for someone to explain. Polynices, weary and currently short tempered, stepped forward with a steady eye and Teiresias’s smile dwindled.

“Creon,” he simply muttered. “Long live the King . . .”

Polynices gently took Menoeceus by the hand and led him away. Antigone could clearly see her brother trying to cool off and looked after him worriedly as she hung back with Meg.

“Strange family we got, isn’t it Meg?”

Meg sighed, unable to answer with all her emotions surging through her at once. She clutched her cousin’s hand and closed her eyes, hoping that Tig would get the message. In response, they embraced tightly.

“This is just the calm before the storm, isn’t it?” Meg whispered. “Something doesn’t feel right . . . I just can’t place it.”

Tig forced a smile despite the tension and gently punched Meg on the shoulder. “I’m sorry Meg- I know how much harder this must be for you. But keep your chin up, eh? Just keep standing for what feels right . . . don’t let my bad habits influence you . . .”

Meg chuckled, smiling lightly. The girls gathered their scrolls and school things, greeting Teiresias cordially until he caught Meg by the elbow to draw her aside. Tig understood the gesture and sauntered off, leaving Meg watching her until she disappeared into their home. Meg hugged her scrolls to herself as the old soothsayer placed an arm around her shoulders.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you again, after you’re run in at school,”

Meg nodded, already knowing where this was going.

“Your father is a changed man, Meg, he was a changed man once he stepped foot in the House of Oedipus as King.”

Meg smirked humorlessly. “He changed the day Haemon was born,”

Teiresias sighed and leg her over to a bench. “This was never fair for you as his eldest child but you are, in his eyes, only a daughter. But just because he categorizes you by gender doesn’t mean you have to belittle yourself; your brothers do look up to you. I have frequent meetings with young Haemon and he dearly wishes he could spend more time with you and Menoeceus. He isn’t the child your father has worked to portray him as.”

Meg nodded slightly. “It just . . . hit . . . that day. I don’t know why. I’m fourteen . . . I shouldn’t be concerned with jealousy. It’s childish.”

“But there’s more to it than jealousy Meg, and it’s more than just the amount of time he spends with Haemon.”

Meg raised an eyebrow to the elder. “It’s always more to you, isn’t it?”

“Listen, Meg,” sighed Teiresias, gripping his walking stick. “I’ve known your father for a long time. I’ve watched him grow from boy to man, as I am watching you grow now in a lovely, young woman.” Meg grinned and blushed a little. “And I know how impulsive he can be, especially when he has power dangling in front of him. He forgets things, people . . . his focus is on power and politics and how to work them out.”

She gazed at him for a long time as he paused to catch his breath. She hugged her scrolls closer to her as a chilly wind blew over them and she shivered, her only other warmth coming from the faint torch light above her. She pondered on the soothsayer’s words, wondering what he was trying to get at. But more importantly she though of Haemon and how much he had missed of his boyhood being cooped up in a room with two older cousins. She wondered how his attitude might change once he got the chance to be a child again and made a goal at that very instant that she would no longer wallow in this make believe hate. Her brother would be taken care of properly . . . and she wasn’t about to dawdle on her father’s reaction.

“He still speaks of you, Meg,” Teiresias said lightly, pulling her out of her thoughts. “He often tells me that he is going to set aside a day to spend with you, to let you know you still have a father.”

Meg knew better and did not allow her hopes to get to high. “How long has he been saying that?”

Teiresias grinned sadly, eyeing his staff with great interest. “Years, my child. Many years.”

Meg nodded, returning the sad smile, gazing at her sandaled feet. She gave another shiver and looked up into the stars, speckled brilliantly over the dark sky. So much had changed in the past several years, drastically from what she remembered as a small child. She remembered disliking Haemon so much as a child, but Menoeceus had worshipped her so much that she lost interest in the “favorite” son. It was best not to dawdle on a long dead past, she figured. Things changed, time went on . . . soon, her eldest cousins would take the throne and her father might resort back to who he used to be.

Miracles were possible.

Teiresias stood then, stiffly and bent and gently touched her shoulder. “My Lady, if I may escort you to the dining hall? I do believe your mother has been anxious to see you home.”

Meg grinned, much more relaxed in the old man’s presence. She suddenly realized then, how much he had meant to her all through her life. He was honest, never harsh, and always a good word and a spare moment. She hated that he grew older, but did not voice her fears. Instead, she stood with as much grace and poise as she could and held her chin high.

She had goals for the future that would not be ignored.

* * *

Her father did not join the family that night, to busy it seemed with political affairs to spend an hour away to eat.

However, it cause little tension and the mood was surprising light and cheerful. Teiresias had been asked to stay and given the head of the table, a place close to the fire to warm his weary bones. To his right sat Eurydice, looking so much older and grayer since Meg remembered. But her eyes danced delightfully. Meg sat at her mother’s side, with Haemon and Menoeceus following to her right. Across the table, Polynices and Eteocles sat in aged order to his left, with Antigone and Ismene following. It was a pleasant time, perhaps one of the only times the whole family ever came together, which was much to Meg’s mother’s delight. Even Haemon seemed different- perhaps the person Meg and Menoeceus had so long wanted to meet. Meg was determined to see what damage she could do. She nudged Haemon slightly on the shoulder and glanced up at her quietly, the murmur of Tig and her brothers chatting boldly in the background.

“How have you been Haemon?”

He shrugged. “Fine I guess,”

She grinned and rustled his hair; he scrunched his nose. “Father treating you well?”

“I spend lots of time with Polynices and Eteocles. Dad’s been busy lately.”

His tone was dry she noted and she sighed, twirling her sthingy around in her bowl of soup. “I don’t have school tomorrow . . . perhaps we could have a family outing, hm?”

“I don’t know, Meg.”

“Come on, kid, be bold. Be brave.” She grinned maliciously and then tickled him in the side until he began to laugh and finally pushed her away, still glowing with a grin. “Besides, Menoeceus needs his older brother don’t you think?”

Haemon looked over at the blond haired little boy who was currently amusing himself with making images with the vegetables in his soup and then turned back to Meg, a dark curl falling into his bright eyes.

“He does, doesn’t he Meg?” he sighed then and looked away. “I haven’t been a very good big brother so far though . . .”

She nudged him again. “He’ll give you a second chance, I’m sure of it. Promise me you’ll try again?”

He nodded excitedly. “Course I will, Meg!”

She smiled broadly, pleased at how well this seemed to be working out until her attention was diverted by her mother’s gentle voice.

“How was the academy today, girls?”

Meg knew she was curious about the situation surrounding Arsenio and dodge ball. “Well, we made a knew friend . . .”

Tig laughed from the other side, looking at Meg excitedly. “Yeah . . . go figure. Meg beats the pulp out of him and the beaten pulp comes whimpering for forgiveness-”

Meg rolled her eyes, pointing her sthingy at Antigone. “That’s hardly how it was. Arsenio just had a hard time fitting in, given him a break. Besides,” she grinned sweetly. “He seems to have taken a liking to you . . . I do believe I saw him willingly walking beside you . . .”

“He wouldn’t shut his yap!”

“ . . .Carrying your scrolls . . .”

“Hey, I had to make him useful somehow . . .”

“And you,” Meg concluded boldly. “Were laughing quite happily at whatever he was saying . . .”

Meg grinned smugly at the look of death on Tig’s face, but was even more amused as Polynices and Eteocles both stood part way out of their seats, looking at Tig with every ounce of elder brother protectiveness.

“I don’t know Tig,” Polynices began. “He seemed nice but he’s going to have to go through some severe research . . .”

“I haven’t even met this fellow yet!” Roared Eteocles. “What young man thinks himself good enough for my sister that he doesn’t have to go through her brothers?”

“Oh your just worried I’ll figure out an evil plot plan to help take over Greece . . . give it a rest, will ya?” She replied sharply.

Antigone was haughtily returning to her meal when she was forcefully thrust around by Ismene who was squealing and giggling and speaking so fast that Antigone’s look of horror seemed very much out of place.

“Oh, Antigone! This is so exciting- you and a significant other!” Ismene, as delicate as she seemed to be, crushed her older sister to her in a very tight, crunching hug. Meg even thought she saw Tig flinch. “Oh! We should have him over for dinner . . .”

Immediately, Polynices and Eteocles were on their feet, both echoing a resounding “no!” around the hall. Antigone closed her eyes and allowed her forehead to meet her palm.

“Issy,” she muttered.

Ismene was not so easily put off, it seemed. “Oh, come on! It would give us all a chance to meet him.”

“I don’t even like him, Issy,”

“I don’t know,” Meg threw in. “Not everyone gets such adorable pet names as “Arsenic.””

Ismene squealed and once more, threw herself at Antigone. Tig glared at Meg across the table, but just as quickly her face broke in a reluctant grin. Eurydice was laughing with Teiresias the entire time and even Haemon asked Tig a million questions, allowing Menoeceus to ask the more innocent ones, such as his questions as to whether this meant that the two would be married.

It had been a long time, Meg realized, since they had all had this much laughter together. When her father was here, the family topic was consumed by political issues and often only included the male children to join in. By late in the evening, after all had aching sides from laughing so much, the table was finally cleared. Something had been strengthened that night, Meg figured, for she saw both her brothers deep in an animated conversation.

Before she followed Tig up the stairs to their rooms, Meg was drawn aside by her mother whose cheeks were exceptionally rosy.

“Meggie,” she whispered, pulling her into a hug. “I’m planning an outing tomorrow. Make sure to tell your cousins, wont you?”

“Of course,”

“And your brothers?”

Meg grinned, watching them race up the stairs. “I’ll tackle them both in the morning and make sure they’re ready.”

Eurydice grinned, studying her daughter’s face for some time before bidding her goodnight, kissing her cheek as she left.

Meg ascended the stairs calmly, the signs of all life and laughter gone from the quiet household. She passed only one room on her way to her bedroom that still held the sounds of muttering and the gentle flickering of light and she paused only for a moment to give some conscious pity towards her father. She hesitated at his door for a moment longer and then briskly passed it by, trying to remember the last time he had ever whispered good night to her.

[megatude]

Ya!! I'm so glad you've updated. You have me hooked.