A/N: I'm a terrible person. I know it's been ages since I updated, but I had my most severe case of writer's block yet. I still don't think I effectively got around it, because my Muse is curled up inside my fireplace, laughing hysterically and hurling fistfuls of cocoa powder at me. Occasionally she screams something like, "There is no Hector!" and I have to take away her bottle of rum and bash her head gently with a saucepan. I strongly suspect she's drunk.

Anyway, I don't think she'll be helping me out with this anytime soon, and I'm not doing so well on my own. I'm sorry if this short chapter doesn't live up to your expectations, but I think if I just get it out of the way, I can work on a spectacular marriage ceremony, so bear with me!

Chapter Ten: Attempts at Comfort and Prayers

Hector probably would have gotten defensive if I ever mentioned this to him, but in that short week before our marriage, he became very predictable. After our first ride on Lampos, he would come to see me every morning, at the same time, with the same chaperone (Deiphobus), and we would go to the same place in Priam's garden to sit and talk. The purpose of these meetings was to know one another better, but at the time I felt like I was cheated out of the knowledge. He seemed to be sincerely interested me. I would answer his questions, not as well as I could have, I'll admit. But when I tried to coax him into speaking about himself, he would easily deflect my questions or give clipped responses. After two days of this, even Deiphobus grew frustrated with our conversations. He would ask seemingly innocent questions about both of us in an attempt to force us to open up to each other. I was good at ignoring him, and unfortunately so was Hector. I couldn't get any information out of him alone. Trying to make him talk about himself was like trying to batter down the Scaean Gate.

Two days before the wedding my frustrations were getting the best of me. The three of us were in Hector's courtyard, as usual, and I still had not succeeded in learning as much as I would have liked about my betrothed. Deiphobus was annoyed at both of us.

"I wish both of you would actually speak to each other," he grumbled. "All you've done is weaseled around conversation all week." I eyed Hector pointedly only to find that he was looking at me the same way. Apparently I had offered less information about myself than he desired.

"All right. Let's try this again," Hector said determinedly, jutting his chin out ever so slightly. "Andromache, tell me about your childhood."

"I grew up with seven brothers and got into no mischief at all," I said sarcastically. "And yours?"

He tapped one foot impatiently on the ground. "That isn't a real answer," he complained. "Tell me something about yourself."

I wasn't about to spill my life story out onto the grass in front of him, so I ignored the question and attacked his motives. "If this is your idea of wooing a maiden, I pity you," I informed him. "First the crazy ride on that beast, and now beating information out of me…"

There was the faintest flush of pink that began to creep up his cheekbones. "I'm not trying to win your affection," he spat defensively, leaning back against one of the lemon trees and crossing his arms. The effect was that of a young boy after being caught doing something wrong, and it was so unlike Hector. In the short time I had known him, all I had seen was a prince, a man aged beyond his years. I guess he had to be. Being the crown prince of Troy was a burden he had carried from a very young age. And seeing him there, looking younger than I imagined he could, was strange to me.

I had little time to dwell on it, though. I saw Deiphobuslook over his shoulder and visibly stiffen. Whipping my head around to look, I saw only Cassandra, hovering timidly by the wall.

"Cassandra!" I exclaimed. "Come, join us."

As soon as the words flew from my lips, Deiphobus wordlessly stood and stalked out of the garden, making a wide circle to avoid his sister. I didn't understand exactly what had happened, only that it was my fault.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly to Hector. "I said something stupid, didn't I?"

Hector shook his head. "It is no fault of yours, Andromache. He hates Cassandra- he is a fool," he said darkly. He had abandoned the posture of a carefree boy and resumed the look of a mature adult. I have to admit that some part of me was sorry to see the boy go. It was a side of Hector I had never seen, and I was intrigued by it. "Please, sister," he continued in a kinder voice. "Come join us."

Cassandra lowered herself slowly onto the grass next to Hector. "I apologize. I didn't know he was with you, or I wouldn't have come."

"No, I'm glad you did," he assured her softly. "Are you well? You look a bit pale."

It was true. It seemed like Cassandra's golden skin had lost some of its luster in only a few days. But she shook her head to rid us of any concerns. "I am eager to return to the temple," she said. "Though I want to be here for the wedding."

There was no mistaking how uncomfortable Hector looked. Cassandra laid a hand on his arm. "I'm not coming to the ceremony, brother. I only meant I wish to be here to share your happiness."

All of a sudden I felt ill. The image came to my mind unbidden of Cassandra, in the isolated quarters she described, catching a few notes of the cheerful wedding hymns.

"Has King Priam forbidden you from attending?" I asked, breaking my silence.

She stared at me in her unsettling way. "He never forbids me, but my siblings are nervous when I come to the feasts."

I met Hector's eyes. I don't want to say I looked at him pleadingly, but I probably did. He rubbed his jaw with one hand. "I think they'll be too drunk to even notice your presence," he said finally. "And as a priestess of Apollo, your job is to offer the marriage cup to us."

"Helenus can do that," she pointed out. "He's a priest."

"I would rather have you do it," I added quietly. "If you would agree to it."

Cassandra did not smile, but her eyes shone and her overall posture simply looked happier. "Thank you for this honor," she stated clearly.

"It is an honor to us," Hector replied graciously. After the proper farewell, Cassandra rose and walked silently out of the courtyard.

This left us with no chaperones. Both of us stood at the same time, and I took the arm he offered. Escorting me back to my chambers was pretty much the only thing he could do while we were alone before we were married. Anything more would be frowned upon, or worse, gossiped about. I was at a loss for any sort of intelligent conversation- I didn't want to ask about Deiphobus' fear of his sister, or say anything too sentimental or too dull. I knew the next time I would see him would be my very last second of freedom, just as I knew Hector would break his pattern of visiting me in the mornings to respect my last day as a maiden.

He did. But at the usual time the next morning, I found I still had a visitor. Aeneas was waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, the very figure of ease, whereas Hector was stiff by comparison. The very sight of him brought a smile to my lips. Of all Hector's family, I felt most at ease with him. "Am I right in guessing Hector told you nothing about himself?" he asked casually, with a careless grin. I found myself thinking that he should be cautious about his smile. It was a strong weapon, capable of winning almost any maiden's heart.

"All I've found out is that he's a soldier, he dotes on Troilius, loves horses, and doesn't wish to marry me," I confessed, and Aeneas raised one eyebrow. "He told me none of this, of course."

"You've got part of it wrong- he wants to marry you," Aeneas corrected. "The rest is true. He also says he hasn't been able to get you to speak of yourself."

He moved to a small bench against the wall and I sat on it with him, leaving space between up. "Are you going to report everything I say to Hector?" I asked suspiciously. For some reason I felt I could trust Aeneas, but he was Hector's best friend, and I couldn't be sure where his loyalties lay.

"No. Cebriones is the one who does that," Aeneas replied. "What else do you want to know about him?"

I couldn't explain it then, but the first thought that came to me was if Hector had ever been in love with anyone. I crushed this thought immediately. It doesn't matter to me, I told myself. He will have mistresses anyway- every husband does. So I asked instead about how well he fought.

It seems almost ironic now that at one time I didn't know how Hector fought. Back then, it was such a small detail, something I didn't know and only had a vague interest in. I had no idea what was to come: that nervous churning of my stomach as I watched him in battle, trying to keep my hands steady as I bandaged his gaping wounds, the stench of blood both he and I ignored, but neither of us could block out completely.

Aeneas responded that Hector was a prized soldier and would probably be promoted to commander one day. Then he proceeded to tell me about some of their training for war together, and the terrifying instructor they had. While I laughed over the tales, I was becoming more and more worried. Aeneas had kindly tried to tell me of Hector's human qualities and shield me from the other phrases to describe him. "Godlike" and "Menacing" come to mind.

"And if you are concerned over how he will treat you, I think you have nothing to fear," Aeneas assured me. "He…well, he can have a bit of a temper, but it…usually takes a lot to anger him. Paris has it down to an art, but I doubt he will ever be angry at you."

What kind of assurance was that? I knew how strong Hector was, and if I made him mad, he would beat me. It was not a welcome thought.

So although I knew Aeneas meant well, his information provided no comfort to me. By the time he led me back to the women's chambers, telling me the whole way that I would be a beautiful bride and I would have a wonderful life, I was horrified.

Hector was still little more than a stranger to me. I could think of nothing to do on my last day of maidenhood- Troy was a strange city to me, and the idea of wandering through unfamiliar streets didn't appeal to me. Instead, I spent the day praying, to every god I could think of. I prayed for different things- a happy marriage, the chance to go back to Thebe, a painless death, Hector deciding to take another bride just before the wedding.

As the sun set, I realized just how hopeless it was. By the time Phoebus Apollo drove his horses into the west the next day, I would be a slave, locked in tight chains to Troy, and her prince.

cringe Bad chapter, I know- probably the worst yet, but I promise that the next chapter will be much better, and things can start happening between Hector and Andromache, finally. Thanks to my reviewers who put up with this.