Chapter 62: The Tournament.

Chapter 62: Chapter 62: The Tournament.

"Are you out of your mind?"

Gurdet seriously needs to have words with the servants about helping his daughter find him. No matter how slippery he thinks he’s being, she always managed to head him off, especially when she was angry with him --something that seemed to be happening with surprising regularity these days.

"Clearly you think I am," he replies dryly as she plants herself directly in his path to bar his way. "I thought that a tournament was an appropriate way to celebrate your cousin’s engagement."

"You really still intend to go through with this marriage?" she asks incredulously, "After what Khobi did to Loac’s face?"

"Of course," Gurdet simpers condescendingly, "I can’t lose face now, sweet daughter. Especially not to that spider." He doesn’t mention the letter he received from Silas,a reminder that should he dislike the match, then he would more than happily wed his daughter. Alliances were best forged by marriage, after all.

Gurdet burned the letter.

Silas could have his daughter over his cold, dead body.

She’s barring his way again.

"There’ll be a ball, too," he adds, even though it appears that he’s misjudged what she was going to be the most furious about. It’s good that she’s becoming less predictable, but her complaints do seem a little misplaced. "I thought you’d be thrilled." Princesses were supposed to love going to balls. In that regard, Xena was just like every other princess in every other kingdom, and she knew it.

" --But father," she’s saying, the way she does when she thinks she’s about to say something relevant, " They hate each other ."

Gurdet rolls his eyes. She finds out that he’s planned an elaborate engagement celebration without her knowledge --for the two people in the world least likely to appreciate it, mind --and she’s back to being upset that the union is happening in the first place?

"Yes, they don’t seem to like one another very much, do they?" he hums, as though that weren’t the understatement of the century. "Most marriages start that way, I suppose." At least his had. True, his wife had never given him a black eye, but if she’d been a little bit more like her younger sister she probably would have. That one was fearless, and strong, and had a spirit that would just not be tamed. And maybe it would have been her he’d courted, if she’d come with a crown.

(Not that she would’ve had him. For a princess, there was too much of the wild in her, and her heart belonged to the man who found that enchanting, a man with dark skin and eyes the same deep, glittering blue as the ocean under a night sky.)

"They don’t have to," Xena murmurs sadly, and then peers up at him and looks so earnest and small that he really feels like her father. It’s a strange, strangling feeling, and he’s not sure he’s fond of it. "You and mother were happy, right?" she asks. "...Eventually?"

He’s a little taken aback by the question, and the manner in which she’s asked,like she needs to know this --needs him to tell her that even though her parents may never have been in love, they had found a way to be happy together.

"Yes," Gurdet concedes, quieter, and a lot more sincere than he’d intended to sound, "I suppose we were. Eventually."

"...Loac deserves that," she says, expression drooping, "You might not think so, but he does."

"Xena--" It’s not very often he doesn’t know what to say. "He’ll be fine. He always is."

"Is he?"

Gurdet honestly doesn’t know what gets into his daughter sometimes.

"He’ll be fine," he insists. "It...might just take a while for them to get used to each other."

He and her mother certainly took a long time to get used to each other, they were just good actors and knew what was expected of them.

"...Can you give them that?" Xena asks quietly, wringing creases into her dress with her hands. "Promise you’ll give them time. To get...to get used to each other? They don’t have to get married right away, do they?"

"Technically, no --"

"So promise me?" she pleads, reaching out and taking him by the hand, "Please, father? That you won’t make them? Yet, at least."

Sometimes she places too much faith in him.

But she’s right. Long engagements aren’t uncommon, and if it’ll keep her mouth shut and stop her from looking at him with those eyes , then he supposes it’s something he can allow.

"Fine --" He relents, "But --"

She hugs him.

(He’s really not sure which of them is more surprised.)

"Fine," he mutters with a heavy sigh, and manages to pat her gently on the top of her head before she withdraws. "I promise."

She’s smiling again. Not the kind of smile where she’s tricked him into getting what she wants, but an honest expression of delight. Of a daughter whose father just gave her the world.

He wishes she wouldn’t look at him like that.

" --But the tournament is still happening," he tells her firmly, sidestepping her and continuing on his merry way. She doesn’t try to stop him this time, just picks up her skirts and trots along beside him. "The gypsies are coming to the city for the autumn festivities, and I’ve already sent out invitations so it would be impossible to cancel now..."

"Is that really necessary..."

"Of course," he sniffs, "Your cousin is finally getting married , Xena. It’s a cause for celebration. If nothing else, it’s one less marriage I have to worry about."

"...And you thought up a tournament all on your own?" she huffs after a moment, nose in the air, obviously not enjoying the jibe but knowing that now is not the time to play brat.

"...You sound surprised."

In fact, it was Bongo’s idea, but he’s not going to tell her that. And he can trust Bongo to keep his mouth shut. But he can read in her tone exactly where this is going.

"...So when exactly were you planning on telling me about this plan of yours??"

(" I know you’re not going to like hearing this, Det ," his wife had told him, once upon a time, a long time ago, when Xena was tiny and young, and thought the world of him. " But a part of being a parent is understanding that sometimes you just can’t win. ")

He hated when she was right .