:Summary: Cassandra, daughter of Priam and sister to Hector and Paris, is blessed with seeing what is to come, but cursed to never be believed. Thought mad by her own people, can an enemy become more when he alone seems to believe what no one else will? Achilles/OC. Movie Canon.
:Disclaimer: I do not own 'Troy' or any of the characters associated with the film or the writings pertaining to it or them in any way. I technically don't even own my OC – All I have is individual events that make up this story.
SPECIAL THANKS TO REVIEWERS: beachgal, Hikari Mibu, Happycookbook, xAdelinex
Sorry this took so long to get out, guys. I was able to get home sooner then I thought I would and the first thing I did was fetch this story! Thanks for your patience and understanding!
o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o
Chapter Three
Cassandra smiled as Astyanax's face lit up at her, delighting in the small giggles of the baby's cooing while she played with him and the carved lion Hector had crafter for him. The youngest prince of Troy curled a fist around the length of the toy and brought it to his mouth to gnaw at it happily, carefree and calm – Cassandra envied the child's ease and pleasure for life, his naivety and innocence was something she'd long since forgotten the feeling of in herself.
"He's such a happy babe," Cassandra turned her smile to her sister in law, Andromache. "He has a smile to rival the sun. Imagine the sight he'll be when he's grown!"
"Like his father, if he's lucky," Andromache nodded and the two women chuckled over it.
"Pray he will be as just and honorable as his father as well," Cassandra added. She titled her head down to Astyanax, smiling at the young boy and speaking slowly to him, "There is no man greater than your father, little one. None so handsome or wise – you've quite the name to live up to!" Astyanax smiled wide and stretched out his arms and legs happily at the sound of her voice and look on her face. Cassandra chuckled softly again, cradling the child in one arm and smoothing her free hand along the top and back of his head.
The future queen of Troy watched her husband's sister whisper to and fawn over her son with a warm and pleasant smile on her face. Cassandra's dark eyes were never as bright as they were when she held Asyanax; all the troubles that usually shadowed and paled her lovely face seemed to evaporate from the pours of her skin whenever she held to child. "A child on your arm does you well, Cassandra." She told the other woman sincerely, "You'll make a fine mother someday."
Cassandra only laughed; the sound was soft as she shook her head, "The thought of being a mother is no good to a woman who isn't even a wife."
"You are young," Andromache shrugged calmly. "A husband will come in time."
"If only my father were so understanding and patient as you, sister." Cassandra sighed to herself, still smiling even as the discouraged sound came out of her. She shook her head, clearly imagining, "What a day that would be…"
"It is the way of any father," Andromache assured. "Mine was the same just before I met your brother. And the fathers of our mothers were the same with them. A father is always eager to see his daughter's future secured."
"That may be, but mine seems more eager to just have me gone from him…"
"You father loves you, Cassandra." Andromache looped her arm around the other's shoulders and leaned her forehead against her temple, "As do you brothers and I." She smiled as Astyanax gurgled loudly, "And of course, so does Astyanax."
Cassandra pressed a kiss to the child's head – Astyanax had the most beautiful blue eyes; so different from either his mother or his father. Priam claimed the pale orbs were a blessing of the gods; Astyanax's birth had been a thing of greatness. And he was a sight to be seen as an infant; Cassandra could see even without any godly blessing of sight that he would grow into a strong, handsome man and a fine warrior like his father. She smiled at him, smoothing her fingers along the side of his head.
She sighed heavily, giving the child one more looking over before shifting to return him to his mother. Andromache accepted her son into her arms, greeting the boy with a motherly kiss to the head. Cassandra stood from the stone bench she and Andromache had been sitting upon and stretched her arms up over her head, looking out towards the sea – she could see the temple of Apollo from where she stood and recalled the promise she'd made to Hector three days before.
She'd have to make good on that promise soon, she supposed.
"Have you seen Briseis this morning?" Cassandra asked over her shoulder, glancing back to see Andromache shake her head.
"No. Why?"
"I promised Hector I would make apologies to Apollo..." she smiled at the other woman, "And I imagine it to be in my best interest to simply do and be done with it before he begins asking of it."
Andromache chuckled, "Yes, I imagine it is."
"I dread it," Cassandra confessed. "So I had hoped to join Briseis when she left for the temple this morning. I'd rather have her with me then kneel before the sun god alone…"
"The priests will be there either way," Andromache reasoned. "Even without Briseis you wouldn't be alone."
"Yes, but Briseis would be more inclined to come to my aide should my apologies be refused."
Andromache chuckled again, brows furrowed in question at her sister in law, "What is there to fear?"
"Apollo himself is more fearful a thing to me than any number of men Agamemnon or his brother could bring to our shores," Cassandra confessed with a heavy unease in her voice. She crossed her arms over her chest, back to Andromache and eyes trained on the far off temple.
Andromache's brows rose and she studied the back of Cassandra's dark head for a thoughtful moment. "…This apology must be due for a hefty sin then," she mused.
Rather than answer to the comment, Cassandra instead turned to bid the two on the bench goodbye. Admitting to a sin when she didn't believe to have sinned against the Sun God at all was absurd to her, but at the same time she had no means of explaining to Andromache why else she would be fearful – not of the god's might or out of submission to his glory, but because she was afraid of him. She returned to her rooms and changed into a simple garment of white linen, pulling the clasps from her hair to let it fall freely around her face – she'd always been told it was best to come as bare and as simple as you could when visiting the temple; so, she removed any trace of jewelry and bit of royal value to her and washed her face and hands before seeking out Briseis.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o
Andromache smiled as she approached the wide bed she shared with her husband, dying her hands as she watched Hector balance their son on his lap and arm, playing with him. Astyanax looked up at him with wide blue eyes, smiling and tugging at the toy lion in Hector's hand; as she drew closer, Hector looked up to her, smiling happily at her and so full of joy over his family. She noticed the warm glow in his eyes that she often saw in Cassandra's when she held Astyanax and was suddenly very aware of how closely the two siblings actually looked alike – especially in the eyes and smile.
"What?" Hector questioned the look on his wife's face.
"Nothing," Andromache chuckled. "I've just noticed that you and your sister share the same happy face."
Hector chuckled back, nodding his head. "You were with her this morning?"
"Yes, Astyanax and I shared an hour with her in the gardens."
"And how is my dear sister?" Hector asked, "I've spent so much time with father and the council lately I hardly remember what she looks like." He laughed softly, shaking his head.
"She is well. Her mind is heavy and far off, as usual, but she seemed well enough to me." Andromache sat on the edge of the bed beside her boys, "Where does her mind go, I wonder?"
"I've tried to figure that out since we were children," Hector mused with a hint of amusement in his deep voice. "It's certainly somewhere far beyond Troy."
Andromache nodded, agreeing with her husband and smiled at the happy sounds that came from their son. "She was deeply troubled by a promise she'd made you to visit the temple of Apollo this morning. She was so frightened by the idea of seeking Apollo on her own that she left to find Briseis to ask for her company in the temple…"
"So she's going this day then?"
"I do not know for certain," Andromache shrugged.
"Today or tomorrow, when is not so important as long as she does," Hector smiled. "It will be good for her."
"She spoke of apologizes… what has she done?"
Hector shook his head, "She would not tell me other than that she scorned Apollo." He sighed, "And she believes these visions or prophecies, these stories of hers, are a means of his punishment upon her. She told me by scorning him Apollo cursed her to see what will come, but never be believed."
"I wonder what she refused him…"
"Nothing most likely," Hector shook his head. "I'm certain it was all just a foolish dream that she's convinced herself to be reality. I am hoping that an apology in the temple for whatever she thinks she has done will rid her of this so call foresight of hers."
"And if it doesn't?"
Hector shook his head after a moment's thought, "I don't know. I suppose we shall all just have to learn to accept her as she is; wild imagination and all." He smiled and lifted his hand to brush some of Andromache's dark hair from her face, calm and the picture of content as he was now with his family.
The peace was short lived though as the warning bell suddenly came to life in the distance. The two turned startled eyes to the open arch of their room, Andromache's swiftly becoming alarmed and Hector's hardening into that of the prince and leader he was. He passed Astyanax off to Andromache and hurried out onto their balcony to stare out to the sea beyond Troy's walls – a fleet of ships, more than he had ever seen in all his life, dotted the horizon as far as his eyes could see. The Greeks were here.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o
The thrill that ran through him was like nothing but the promise of war could do for him. It was fresher then the cleanest air, more arousing then the most beautiful of women and his skin itched to feel the sand of the shore stretched out just beyond him. Immortality and everything he'd ever wanted was there now, waiting for him – it was so close he could taste it; dry and salty on his tongue.
"My lord? Should we wait for the others?"
Achille's turned his head to look back at the approaching form and face of Eudorus, "They brought us here for war, didn't they?"
"Yes, but Agamemnon's orders-"
"You fight for me, Eudorus, or Agamemnon?" He tried his eyes on the shore once more, speaking to the man behind him without seeing him.
"For you, my lord." The reply came simply and sincerely and he knew it was true.
"Then fight for me." Achilles turned back to the waiting man, "And let the servants of Agamemnon fight for him."
The beach of Troy was his for the winning.
o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o
REVIEWS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!
