𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐑 ᵐᵘˡᵗⁱ-ᶠᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐˢ

Messenger's Daughter

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⭒❃.✮:▹ Traveler ◃:✮.❃⭒

300
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a/n: video clip for the movie scene is above if y'all wanna see!

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

The dusty road leading to Sparta was long, every step taken heavy with the heat from the Sun.

Your father, the official representative of King Xerxes known as the Persian envoy, led the procession on foot.

You walk a few paces behind, eyeing the skulls of conquered kings dangling grotesquely from his horse.

Having spent countless days and nights studying what you can on Spartan culture, a sense of urgency knot in your chest of the potential outcome.

"Father we cannot do this," you plead, the desperation in your voice cutting through the dry air. "Bringing these skulls will only provoke their rage, not intimidate."

Laughter erupts from the men around you, coarse and mocking.

"A woman lecturing us on matters of war?" one sneers, his face creased with disdain.

The others join in, their laughter a choir of ignorance.

"What's next, a child advising the king?!"

Anger flares within you, burning away any hesitation.

Facing the man who dared to belittle you, your voice rise with every word. "You are fools if you think the sight of those skulls will make them cower! Spartans are proud, fierce...they will meet this threat with blade and blood."

As you spoke, uneasy glances were exchanged, your words igniting a flicker of doubt amongst the retinue. But your father saw only insubordination.

"They are—"

"Enough!"

Your words are cut off by a hard slap across the face.

The blow sends you reeling, head snapping to the side as a searing pain spreads across your cheek.

You look up to meet the steely gaze of your father, his hand still raised from the strike. "Your emotional, fear-driven babble have no place here. You have no right to speak of war and strategy."

His words sting more than the slap.

"Shall I remind you what lacks between your legs? The only reason you are here?!" Your wavering frame makes him step back with a scoff of indignation.

"Put your veil back on...and know your place," he turns away, dismissing you with a wave of his hand to rejoin the men who reveled in your humiliation.

You stood there for a moment, the pain in your cheek echoing the ache in your heart.

You always thought, hoped, he would grow to value your intelligence. That he saw the potential in you went way beyond the traditional roles of women, perhaps one day take his place as Messenger.

And dare say, even respect you.

But his words laid bare the truth. You are nothing more than a pawn in his task of diplomacy and power.