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Chapter Eleven
It had been three full days since Achilles met with Agamemnon. Since he'd reluctantly agreed to fight the "king's" war for him. Since he'd walked in on a bathing Cassandra, dressed her, kissed her forehead and watched her prepare in silence for the night. That silence had stretched from the evening into the next morning. Achilles had been prepared for it, he'd expected it; she would be embarrassed, he rightly assumed, to have had him see what he had of her naked form. What he hadn't been prepared for was to be subjected to the silence beyond the morning, the afternoon, and further into another evening. And now, three days after the incident, they'd barely shared words at all.
Conversations no longer existed, not as they had before. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and short. She offered no more then was necessary to answer him. One, two, maybe three words at a time followed by a terrible, lengthy silence.
It had nothing to do with what he had seen. She no longer kept her body angled away from his gaze or held her arms crossed to her chest as if to shield herself. The awkward, embarrassed air around her had dissipated by the afternoon. Much like Achilles had expected it to. Whatever it was that distanced her from him now was something else entirely… and for the life of him, Achilles could not figure out what it was.
He sat on the cooling beach, a small dune of sand, watching the sun darken from white-hot yellow to rustic orange over the evening Aegean waves. The sea was calm… his mind was not. It turned and beat an angry pulse in his temple as he fought to understand what was different. What had turned the curious, talkative woman hiding away in his hut to silence? And even more pressing, why did it bother him so much that she no longer spoke with him like she had from the beginning?
Blue eyes narrowing, hands tightening around themselves as he sat with his elbows on his bent knees, Achilles realized he already knew why it bothered him. He knew. He simply wished he didn't. Cassandra's disinclination towards him burned, because he seemed to be the sole recipient. She spoke with Eudorus; he'd come in to find his second and the girl conversing over a plate of fruits. And she spoke with Odysseus; she greeted him with a warmth and affection and camaraderie he had not seen from her since the night they'd discussed Apollo. She'd fallen into slumber so easily that night, put to rest by his words and proximity… now, he felt her watching him well into the darkest hours of the night. As though she were waiting for him to do something dreadful. But the moment he turned to meet her gaze through the shadows of his hut, she would close her eyes to him or turn away completely.
The rejection stung. Especially as no one else familiar enough with her here was being slighted at all. It was just he.
The sand shifted to his right; he didn't have to look to know who it was. He'd recognize the weight and gait of the king's footfalls anywhere. A goblet was held out to him as Odysseus joined him on the small dune and Achilles accepted it, but he didn't drink from it. He simply clasped it between both hands between his knees and continued to stare at the slowly sinking, Trojan sun.
"It is the last thing you want to hear from me, I know," Odysseus began, "but you also know I must say it. Agamemnon is growing impatient. He expects you to join in council now, far more often than you do."
"His desires do not concern me."
"You swore the man your sword."
The blond growled, "I agreed to fight, not plan his battles."
"Your Myrmidons have never seen defeat. He knows you're brilliant…" Odysseus shrugged, lifting his goblet to his lips. "He wants your input."
"I have nothing for him."
"Achilles, you were given what you wanted. Why provoke him?"
"She won't speak to me." Achilles felt Odysseus' frown, took a frustrated breath and elaborated from his Ithacan friend, "The girl. Cassandra. She won't speak to me."
Odysseus slowly shook his head, brows heavy over small green eyes. "She speaks of you often…"
"But not [to] me," Achilles stressed aggressively. Frustrated. Angry. "She's not said more than a handful of words to me in three days, and I had to drag those from her."
The older man made a thoughtful sound somewhere in the back of his throat, "I spoke with her this morning. She had Eudorus send for me… she wanted to walk the beach and asked that I joined her. She told me about the bathing incident," he gave what looked a lot like a smirk when Achilles finally turned his eyes to him. "She was very flustered. Have you thought perhaps she's simply embarrassed?"
"She's beyond that," Achilles shook his head.
"She's a woman. And a woman brought up a princess," Odysseus shook his head again, slowly, lips quirked as he explained what seemed commonsense to him. "She's not to be seen as you saw her by any man besides her husband. You are not her husband. I know it's hard, but you must try to understand how it must feel to be brought up your entire life obeying a preset order of how you should live and behave… and in five minutes time, that order was uprooted and upturned. A man walks in on you, and everything you were taught is destroyed. You are no longer completely pure."
"I did nothing to her," Achilles bristled.
"Well, that's good to hear, but it doesn't actually matter." Odysseus met the other man's steadily darkening glare. He sighed and bowed his head to the setting sun, "Were it that my son Telemachus had been a daughter, she would be raised same as Cassandra had." The king used one hand to gesture as he spoke, "She isn't a son; she can't inherit her father's throne. She can't rule. So, her worth amounts to whom she marries – most men want their woman pure, touched by none but them. And to a woman… if you've seen it, you might as well have touched it."
"It isn't about that," Achilles insisted with a tense jaw. "She doesn't act like woman robbed of her innocence. It's something else."
"Have you asked?" Achilles went still and silent, blue eyes dropping to the sand between himself and Odysseus. The king chucked around his goblet, emerald eyes glinting in amusement, "No? Then perhaps you should."
Achilles scowled. It just made Odysseus' chuckle mature into a low laugh, lips stretching across his face, teeth showing and the lines of his face dimpling in under his beard. It only made Achilles' scowl deepen and his hands tighten around his goblet.
"I've never seen you so reluctant to speak with a woman," Odysseus teased his friend. "Don't tell me Great Achilles is afraid?"
"I've killed men for suggesting far less," Achilles warned irritably. "Careful who you insult."
"My friend, for all the days I have known you I have insulted you. But," Odysseus' brows lifted to his forehead, goblet tilting to gesture at the warrior beside him, "as you are my friend, I will never hesitate to call you foolish when you are acting as such."
"And you think that not an insult?"
"Achilles," Odysseus ignored the question, looking hard at the other man's profile. "Anyone here who has spent more then a moment with Cassandra can see the girl thinks the world of you. It's beyond me how or even why, but she does. If you went to her honestly and asked, I am sure she would not deny you an equally honest answer concerning her behavior."
The uncharacteristic hesitance returned in the blond, tightening his shoulders and back. It was amusing to watch from Odysseus' point of view, but he knew it was probably nothing short of mortifying for Achilles. "How?"
"Gently. Sincerely." Odysseus smirked at the other, "And preferably with a kinder look than the one you're sporting now. I doubt any woman would be inclined to share anything with a man scowling at them like you are at me."
Odysseus remained with him on the sand until the sun vanished beneath the sea. When the king left, he took the two now empty goblets with him and retired to his own hut amongst his Ithacan soldiers. Achilles stayed put long after, watching the moon reflect off the ever calm waves beyond the beach and listening to the crackle of slowly dying fires with men began to settle for the night. He didn't make his way to his own hut until after everything had fallen into silence and all he could hear was the whispered lapping of the sea.
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Despite his conversation with Odysseus in the sand, Achilles avoided opportunities to speak with Cassandra for another day. She'd been deep into sleep when he'd finally returned the night before and he'd left long before she'd woken in the morning. He'd found Patroclus and spent the morning sparing with his cousin, managing to relieve some tension and frustrations that way and he spent his noon meal eating with his men, doing his best to ignore his notice that Eudorus was not among them. And in the afternoon into the early evening he occupied his time with the kings in Agamemnon's tents – the men were divided as to whether or not they should continue this war with Troy now that Menelaus was dead and had no use for the wife he'd been robbed of.
Agamemnon had convinced half that continuing was in Greece's best interest. The rest, Odysseus included, were not so sure. It was a bore to Achilles, but at least it kept him partially distracted.
When he returned, Cassandra was not to be found. A twinge of concern pinched in his chest, but his irritation was greater and won the battle. He washed, ate his fill and slipped into the familiar routine of cleaning shields and greaves and sharpening blades that hardly needed sharpening. It provided him an hour to cool his anger and still his frustration; he didn't look up from his work until faint laughter and approaching steps in the sound reached his ears.
Cassandra came in with a face flushed from laughing and dark eyes alight with more than just the reflection of the fire smoldering in the pit in Achilles' hut. She bid a farewell to whomever had left her in the opening to the hut and her expression faltered just enough for Achilles to notice when she turned to find him watching her. He didn't say a word, simply returning to his work with every intention of ignoring the woman as she made herself ready for sleep.
The morning came and his day was repeated. Sparing with Patroclus, meal with the Myrmidons, minus Eudorus, and his afternoon wasted listening to kings argue before Agamemnon. In the evening he found his hut empty once more. He washed and ate and fought valiantly to ignore the fact that Cassandra's absence struck him hard between the eyes. When he recognized the sound of Odysseus approaching his hut from outside, Achilles ignored it as well, not looking up as the king entered. He began cleaning a blade that hadn't seen battle in nearly a week instead.
"She's with your cousin." Odysseus announced, shattering the silence around them. He sounded an interesting cross between amused and annoyed, and Achilles could feel the accusing heat in his eyes as he stared down at him. "Since I know you're too stubborn to ask, I thought I'd just tell you."
Achilles' hand stilled, interest piqued.
"They've developed a small bit of friendship in your absence."
The blond scowled; Patroclus had not mentioned this to him either this morning or the one before. Instead of dwelling on this withheld information from his cousin, Achilles shot a glare up at Odysseus. "My absence? I'm here, aren't I?" He gestured around with the point of the blade in his hand, "Do you see her anywhere? I'm the absent one?"
"You've been avoiding her."
"I have not."
"Lie to yourself if you must, friend. But do not think for a moment you can lie to me." Odysseus' face was stern, expression like something Achilles would expect to see from a father scolding a child. Realizing in this case it made him the child only made his temple pound and his jaw tighten. "You beat the sun in rising, take your meals outdoors, and spend your days in the company of bickering men."
"I seem to recall you advising my spending more time with such bickering men."
"Yes, and I am grateful you took it, but you are elsewhere when you could be righting things with her." Odysseus shook his head, "You express your discontent with her silence towards you, yet you've done nothing to change it. If anything, you've made it worse. Now you're sour that she finds company elsewhere."
Achilles only scowled at the other man.
"I've noticed things since I've known her. She is a social creature and she hungers for companionship; being alone troubles her." The king sighed, "She sends for me in the mornings, shares her meals with Eudorus and her days with your cousin."
"What should it matter if I avoid her then?" Achilles returned to sharpening his blade, "She seems to have found company enough."
"By the Gods you're a fool!" Odysseus' outburst stilled Achilles again, blue eyes meeting frustrated green. "She comes only to us because you are not here! There is no preference to our company! If she woke to you here she would not send for me. If you came in for meals, Eudorus would not be sharing the plate with her. Her day would go elsewhere, but she would share the evening with you if instead of coming here to mope after council, you went to her and Patroclus and walked with them." He thrust his arm out in front of him, the gesture jerky and irate, "The troubles in her towards you would be gone in a day if only you were not so stubborn!"
"She knows I am here," Achilles argued. "If she so wants my company, why isn't she here?"
"Why should she want to be?" Odysseus quarreled right back. "She is troubled and instead of asking and attempting to fix what is wrong, you've made a battle of this. You want her to break and come to you, but she isn't going to, Achilles. Why would she, if all you've done is show you don't want her to."
"I never said - "
"Actions speak far louder then words," Odysseus interrupted. "What do you think you say when you're gone before the day begins?"
Achilles' eyes narrowed on the other man's face, "How are you so certain of all this?"
"I'm married," Odysseus chuckled. "It teaches you many things."
Odysseus left him to his thoughts soon after that. Achilles could see that there was still light out and he knew without glancing outside that the sun would not be gone for another hour or so. Cassandra would remain away, with Patroclus apparently, until the light had gone completely from the sky. The blond set his blade aside, Odysseus' words burning through his mind – he knew he would find no rest tonight if he didn't do something to clear his head of them. He left his hut before instinct could meddle in the entire affair and challenge him to ignore the king's words and reprimand.
It's a bit shorter then other chapters, but I figured I'd go ahead and put it up since I've already made you all wait much longer then I should have. haha I swear I'm working on the next part, as we speak actually, so hopefully it'll get out in the next week or so too...
REVIEWS ARE WELCOME AND GREATLY LOVED - all errors found are my own. My apologies.