spartan_queen

Over time, Gorgo learned to deal with the trappings of the world where she now lived. She did miss her mediation. Leonidas, ever in-tune to his wife, set aside a room in their house for Gorgo to practice the old ways, parts of her heritage she could never deny. This gift from the King of Sparta to his wife meant the world to her. Scheduling everything so they didn’t run into each other for two weeks; Gorgo spent time in prayer in cleansing and solitude.

Purposefully, she’d extended her mediation for another day so she could prepare herself for her King and husband. Spending the morning in a spa, so her skin glowed, pampering herself like the Queen she was she looked striking.

Secretly, she’d been taking cooking classes. She fried chicken using asalt water and then buttermilk brine. The chicken was so moist, you couldn’t resist it, and definately golden brown. Of course it took her three tries to get it perfect.

“In here,” she called as she heard him opening the door.

Gorgo arrived home long before Leonidas. Still adjusting, she found things frustrating at times. Her life experiences had not prepared her for this. Her character traits had, she would not give up. Mastering the equipment in the kitchen was relatively easy, any fool could read a manual, it was the nuances of cooking, and those that come with trial and error eluded her. She had mastered the art of trial and error; many a discarded meal lay under her belt.

As Queen, her servants took care of her daily needs. If it weren’t for her independence, she would have been unable to perform those tasks, unlike most living Queens; she would do what was required. In his absence, she’d ruled for Leonidas. The kindness and respect which she treated all Spartans, did not go unnoticed. She was their most beloved Queen. No doubt, her disappearance caused an unexpected chaos, rewriting the history books. During the times she chose for prayer, revelation and reflection, she wondered how the world would differ now, if she had not left. Those thoughts were now filling her mind, after her time with Hades. He had not chosen her to cross the river Styx, one day she would ask him why.

As much as she loved Leonidas, his time in the new and ever-changing world caused an unwanted rift between them. He had evolved, while she had not. He had centuries to change, she had not asked for this. If she’d known she could be with her beloved again, she would have given anything, knowing would have prepared her.

His job, fed his need for battle, but it kept him away. Aside from mastering life in this century, she immersed herself in learning. The changes that had taken place were almost unfathomable, for one made of less, that knowledge would have made them mad.

This day brought her more happiness than she’d experienced since she’d rediscovered Leonidas. There was one, who understood. She wondered why her husband had not told her the gods were her walking among them, or if he even knew.

Leonidas insisted on the best. Gorgo had to agree with his taste, the animal-hair brush he gave her hair a beautiful sheen. Repeating the graceful motion, over and over she continued until she was satisfied. For the longest time, she’d been hesitant about leaving their dwelling without her King. People stared at her, specifically men. The Spartan beauty didn’t understand the men were appreciating her. Decidedly different, she walk like the queen she was. In Sparta, if men looked at her, she was unaware; it was disrespectful when lust for their queen crossed her face. She was sure that Leonidas loved her; he possessed her as any king would his finest treasure.

Face beautiful by design, it needed no help to reflect the natural beauty with which she was born. This was probably why the women in this strange town were envious. Gorgo would never get use to the wandering eyes of the men, and icy glares of the women, the queen in her could deal.

It hadn’t taken her long to learn the way to ‘his work’ as Leoniads explained it. This world did not have a king, it had a President, whatever that meant. A Spartan king could solve the problems touted on the rather large thin box in the room in which they lived. He called it a ‘living room,’ she didn’t understand why. Nor could she wrap her head around the fact people were small enough to get into that annoying box. Gorgo continued to be curious about the world, and the time in which she’d suddenly appeared. Head held high, movements graceful and regal she made her way toward her love.

Gorgo found a place to wait until she could make her presence known. Leoniads took time to think out his military moves, his edicts, everything that concerned the people for which he was responsible. Now she waited away from everything, waited until her king would notice. Their connection was strong, only deep thought or problem would keep him from realizing that she stood behind him. He would feel her presence, and that gave her comfort.

Quietly, Gorgo slipped out of the warm bed. Everything was still overwhelming. He had years to adapt, and she was expected to adapt. Naked, she moved around their house, amazed at how people in this age lived. She had always been treated as the Queen she was, not that she felt people were beneath her, she was what she was and would remain so until death took him once again from her.

She found ways to adapt clothing so that she kept her Spartan clothes, she was able to adapt. She would not allow them to take anything more from her. Her arms ached to hold her son. All Spartan women had to endure it, she had lost both of them, and now her husband was back. It was hard to comprehend.

Her hair covered her back, as the moon lit her with a heavenly glow. Grabbing a blanket from the overstuffed thing he called a couch; she wrapped herself up, and quietly padded out to the deck. She looked up in the night sky, the same moon shone down on Sparta.