Chapter 11
"Wake for Young Souls"


Recommended Songs: "The First Day of My Life" – Bright Eyes & "April Fool" – Manchester Orchestra


It had been nearly three years since Myrina had last seen her friend, and each passing month increased her distress. Surely it was not a good sign that he had been gone for so long. For a period, Myrina had feared that the soldiers had in fact returned, and Hector had merely chosen not to visit her. Since she was a distance from the capital and female, she was not often kept up to date on affairs in Troy though occasionally she caught conversations between her father and brothers or heard village gossip. Aside from that, she was left ignorant, and it frustrated her that she was mainly blind as to how Hector was faring. Had he been injured in war? Or worse killed? She couldn't allow herself to consider the latter: it caused her far too much pain. It wasn't until Hector had left that Myrina truly became aware of what a reprieve he had given her from the dull, repetitive nature of her life. His mere presence offered a change in her daily affairs, and their discussions gave her something to look forward to. Without him, she had easily grown bored and restless. Of course being a woman, she had no means to expel this annoyance and was forced to shoulder her burden silently.

Isidora seemed delighted that the prince no longer came to visit her, and she was further pleased by how Myrina had calmed over the years. The childish fire that had burned so fiercely within her had ultimately provided Isidora with the daily task of attempting to quell it as best she could. Time without the prince's company had affected Myrina in a way that Isidora never had the power to, and though she naturally was concerned by Myrina's sadness, she was happy that Myrina seemed to finally be developing into an acceptable young girl. Maybe now she would be able to find a suitable match, marry, and live a peaceful life. Such a fate could only be available if Myrina abandoned her childish fantasies and inappropriate friendship. In fact, the servant hoped the prince never returned. It would be the best thing for Myrina. Naturally, the girl did not share this desire with Isidora, and though she hid it will, the fire within her could not be snuffed out so easily. She still yearned for excitement and adventure, but she wore a mask each day to keep others from seeing it. As Isidora had told her long ago, hiding her true feelings had proved an advantageous trait, but Myrina would never be happy if this were her life. How could any find satisfaction in living a lie?

More over, Myrina had never been so religious as after the Trojan prince left for war. Each night when alone in her room, she prayed to Apollo, Ares, Zeus, and any god in the Pantheon who would watch out for her friend. With age, her prayers became less selfish. Rather than begging the gods to return her friend to her, she asked that they simply keep him safe and allow him to return to Troy where he could live a long life. Even if she never saw him again, she wished the best for him, but she was easily disheartened by the idea that he would not visit her. It, however, made sense to the girl. It had been three years, and he had undoubtedly grown considerably. Why would he wish to see her when she had proven herself to be so immature and irresponsible in the time before he left for war? Did he even remember her? Their friendship had been yet another of her childish fantasies which could never truly come to fruition. Though she held onto the memory of him, he had likely long forgotten her.

The marketplace was crowded to the brim that particular afternoon, and Alkaios led the way through the throngs of people. Aeton had taken them to the city so that he could speak about business with a friend, and he had agreed to find Myrina and Alkaios in the market once he had finished his business. Myrina, unlike her two older brothers, was not particularly tall, and the only muscles she sported were from carrying out common chores. Consequently, her short, gaunt form was easily battered in the crowd, and Alkaios had taken her wrist and was navigating their way to the appropriate stands. Myrina balanced a basket in the crook of her free arm and leant the weight against her side, attempting to avoid anyone knocking the contents out onto the ground. Finally, they reached a gap in the throng, and Myrina unwittingly pressed herself up against Alkaios to keep the two from being separated. At the feeling, he glanced over his shoulder down at her with a grin.

"I haven't lost you yet?" he quipped.

Myrina glared up at him. Being a young, unmarried woman, it was not ideal to roam the marketplace without a chaperone –even one as dimwitted as Alkaios. Men could take advantage of her solitude, and her father had warned her of several unfortunate encounters with other young women. The tales were enough to strike fear in her heart, and she kept close to her brother for good measure. All of a sudden, there was an unannounced commotion to their left, and Myrina raised herself up onto the balls of her feet, straining for a glimpse as to what had caused such a fuss.

"What's happening?" she asked Alkaios.

His eyes shone in amusement when they considered her next. "A thief nearly stole a man's chicken."

Myrina smiled and giggled under her breath at the idea. How could someone possibly think they could steal a chicken, and where would they hide it? She grabbed his hand then to pull him toward another stand. "We need lentils," she called over her shoulder in explanation for their abrupt change in direction. She returned her gaze forward, but her advance was soon hindered by a large man who had stepped out in front of her and was idling while looking at something. Alkaios realized too late that she had stopped and collided into the back of her, stepping on her heel and ultimately causing her to fall forward into the man before them. She squealed and instinctively clung to the man to keep from falling onto the ground though the contents of her basket scattered around them. With her firm grip around his waist, her face was buried in his lower back, and she was stunned as she realized what she had just done and furthermore her current position.

"Are you hurt?" a deep baritone asked from above her.

Myrina had never been so close to a man before since she didn't think hugging her brothers or father counted, and her heart unintentionally picked up its pace at the close proximity. Her gaze travelled self-consciously up his blue shirt to meet his matching pair of eyes. The simultaneous concern and amusement in them caused her to blush fiercely, and she was grateful when her brother helped right her and set her on her feet. "No," she answered in embarrassment, trying to keep their exchange as short as possible so that she wouldn't shame herself further. "I'm sorry. I tripped." She quickly knelt beside her brother then without another word and began gathering the discarded contents of her basket.

"Perhaps if you weren't so small, people would be able to see you," Alkaios taunted his sister.

"Not all of us can be giant brutes," she quickly rejoined in annoyance as she brusquely threw various objects back into the basket. Then her breath caught at the sound of chuckle nearby. Her head lifted in search of the source, and there was the man squatting before her and offering her one of the fallen apples from the basket. She recognized then that he was not as old as she had initially thought, merely tall with broad shoulders. His face, however, did not yet bear the lines of age, though he was evidently older than Alkaios. By how much Myrina could not say, but she noticed only too late how impossibly handsome he was. Had she realized it sooner, perhaps should could have prepared herself better. As it was, his sky blue eyes where they were nestled beneath golden curls completely disarmed her, and she realized after several tense minutes had passed that she had been staring at him without moving or saying a word. She snapped herself out of it immediately and grabbed the fruit from his hand. "Thank you," she added as an after thought. "I apologize for earlier." She stood up once more with her basket at her side, and the man followed suit.

He answered without pause, "How can I mind when a beautiful woman crashes into me?"

The compliment caused Myrina to blush a deeper shade of pink, and she lowered her chin completely to her chest. No one had ever told her she was beautiful. "I am sorry," Alkaios spoke up from behind her. "My sister can be clumsy at times." Myrina would have elbowed him in the gut for making her sound like such an incompetent fool if it did not require twisting away from the man before her and possibly revealing her flushed face.

"It is no matter," the man assured him in that rich baritone. "I only wonder who the Fates have brought to me so abruptly." He paused expectantly, and Myrina realized he was looking at her and furthermore asking for her name.

She took a courageous breath and lifted her eyes from her feet to meet his blue orbs once more, and she smiled coyly. "Myrina," she answered so softly it was almost inaudible.

"Myrina," he repeated, and his lips parted in an amused smile down at her. Evidently he enjoyed her shyness, and what that meant Myrina did not wish to know. It caused her to blush even more, and she swiftly returned her gaze to her feet in a vain attempt to hide it.

"And who are you to ask for the name of my sister?" Alkaios asked, and Myrina was surprised by his hardened tone of voice.

"Aeneas, son of Anchises," he answered.

There was a pregnant pause where both Myrina and Alkaios realized the significance of his name. Alkaios wondered in a more respectful tone to be safe, "Aeneas of Dardania?"

"Yes."

"My lord, I apologize," Alkaios said and bowed his head while Myrina wondered how best to merge with the ground beneath her. She was glad, however, that the attention had been drawn from her to her brother, and she finally allowed herself to lift her gaze once the blood drained from her cheeks. Her neck was grateful for the reprieve. Aeneas noted her change in stature by briefly meeting her gaze, but to her relief, he did no more.

"Peace," Aeneas assured Alkaios, but his gaze flickered down to Myrina once more. "You should be more careful."

"Yes, my lord," she said softly because she feared it would seem abrasive if she didn't speak at all.

Alkaios wished he could say something to the man standing before them whose gaze kept falling to Myrina, but he could not voice his distaste to the Dardanian prince. Still, he did not appreciate the attention Aeneas granted Myrina who was so clearly embarrassed by it. "We should find Aeton," Alkaios murmured to his little sister. Myrina was grateful for the escape route though she knew it was still far too early in the afternoon for Aeton to be searching for them. Without speaking, she backed away toward her brother, and he addressed Aeneas a final time, "Pardon my sister's clumsiness, my lord." The prince didn't speak a word, and the two excused themselves finally. Alkaios practically drug Myrina away, and she struggled not to trip again in her attempt to keep up with his pace. Despite herself, she glanced over her shoulder to see Aeneas watching their retreat. When their gazes met, he granted her a wolfish grin and managed to make Myrina blush a final time.

Even a day later Myrina still cringed at her behavior when she replayed the events over in her head. She was grateful, however, that there was no chance she would ever likely encounter the Dardanian prince again. With a heavy sigh, Myrina considered the bounty from their latest trip to the market and began planning what she would cook for supper that evening. Scanning her eyes over the various items gathered on the kitchen table, she realized she had forgotten to pick up some herbs. The insignificant lapse in memory irritated her for some reason, and she easily blamed it on her embarrassing encounter with the prince who had distracted her completely from her purpose in the market even after she left him. The young girl considered the servant who was already rearranging items from where Myrina had placed them around the kitchen. "Could you ask Chryseis if she has any cooking spices she could spare? Tell her we will repay her should she need anything."

Isidora grumbled under breath. With her old age, she was becoming easily petulant more and more often. Myrina simply stared at her in silence, and the servant caved but not without a comment about the girl's absentminded nature: "You should be more attentive. You are too young to be so forgetful."

"You forget what I have said but a moment after I have spoken it," Myrina shot back without hesitation. Within her blue-green eyes was a glimpse of the fire inside her. Isidora's chiding and nagging often had a way of stoking it, but the girl tucked it away as quickly as it had flared.

"I have the excuse of old age," the woman pointed out easily with her eyes narrowing suspiciously. For a time, she stared intently at Myrina, waiting to see if the flash of defiance would return, but Myrina did not meet her gaze. Eventually, she headed out the door to attend to her latest task and grumbled under her breath something inaudiable about young women and their shifting moods.

"Old age and bitterness," the young girl murmured under her breath so low that she knew Isidora wouldn't catch it. She began chopping up vegetables, but Isidora had only been gone a second before she rushed back inside with wide eyes.

"Someone is stealing the horse!" she cried out frantically, and the urgency in the lines of her face convinced Myrina it was no trick. With this unexpected news, Myrina's anger returned twofold. Their family was poor enough without someone stealing their horse. It was old, but they needed the steed. They could not walk to Troy when they needed to go to market, and they did not have the money at that particular time to buy another horse. Rather than hiding within the home away from the supposed thief, her eyes landed on the bushel of apples they had purchased the day before. She swept them up into her arms and ran out the door while Isidora cried out from behind her, "Myrina! What are you doing! Stay inside!"

Myrina ignored her warnings and turned the corner around their home to the fenced area where the horse was kept. As Isidora had led her to believe, a large, cloaked man was bent over beside their horse, but Myrina could not tell exactly what he was doing. It was no matter in any case. He had no reason to be on their land or bothering their horse. Myrina sprinted toward him with more speed now that she had her sights set on the crook, and though she dropped a few apples along the way, she had plenty of ammo to finish her purpose. With his back to her, she took the offensive, grabbed an apple, twisted back, and threw it with every bit of strength she had. It hit the man square in his upper back, and he cried out in surprise. Without hesitation, she threw another, hitting his shoulder this time. "Leave, you sack of wine!" she cried out angrily with another apple in hand. The man's cloak had been knocked forward over his head and shoulders from the force of one of her blows, and he scrambled to pull it back while still being pelted with apple after apple. "How dare you rob a poor fisherman! You disgusting swine!"

Finally he was able to draw back his cloak, and he faced the girl with his eyes ablaze in annoyance. "It's me!" he hissed back venomously.

Myrina had her final apple in hand and was poised to chuck it, but seeing his face and hearing his voice, she was stunned to the point that she nearly looked like a statue of pure shock. The man standing before her bore the familiarity of the young man she had grown to know very well though he had changed so much. The remainder of her young friend was but a shadow lining the man's handsome features. For good measure, she tossed the apple as a final test, and the man caught it before it hit his face. Behind it he growled angrily that she still did not believe him, but only a second later he was forced to drop it in order to catch the girl who jumped into his arms. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck with such a force that it nearly choked him. Rather than shucking her off, he simply chuckled into her hair and held her tightly against him. Her feet dangled off the ground considering the difference in their sizes, but he barely noticed the weight of her in his arms. The raw emotions overwhelmed her to such a degree that she buried her face in his neck and clung to him with her fingers digging desperately into the taught muscles of his back. In that moment, she was a torrent of relief, happiness, excitement, recollection, and so much more than she couldn't even explain. The sheer force with which she recognized and remembered him was so intense that it was a wonder the pure emotions didn't tear her in two.

Finally, Myrina dared to release him if only to get a better look at him, and he gently set her down on her feet with a broad grin on his face when he felt her grip around his neck loosen. Her small hands cupped his cheeks as she peered up at him with such overwhelming happiness and excitement that she was nearly trembling before him. Her blue-green eyes danced across his features, and he welcomed her thorough inspection with a hint of amusement. It was reminiscent of the way she had greeted him so many years ago when they met under much more trying circumstances. Once more there was a case of mistaken identities, but it didn't matter. They were finally reunited, and as before, they received each other with elation and enthusiasm. Myrina did not think it could be possible, but he was even taller than she remembered. Likewise, he had grown beyond his height, and his muscles had developed so much so that he appeared Herculean before her –almost how she might imagine a god would look. A thick, dark beard traced his strong jaw, and his chestnut curls hung lower down the nape of his neck. Naturally, she noticed the mark of his first battle, and one finger carefully followed the scar where it fell across his brow and down onto his cheek. Somehow it fit his face perfectly, and it did not disrupt the handsomeness of his features. In fact, it seemed as though it should always have been there, and she briefly wondered how he had garnered the mark. Surely he would tell her, but for the moment, she was content simply being near him and acknowledging that he was not a figment of her imagination.

"Hector," she breathed barely above a whisper, and his eyes warmed in acknowledgment of his name. "I've missed you." With the admission, her face lit up in the brightest smile he had ever seen.

Finally seeing the young girl he had been thinking about for so long had a similar effect on him, and his worn hands cradled her elbows to steady her where she was still standing on the balls of her feet to reach his face. He ran his thumb gently over her skin and confessed, "I've missed you as well." Normally he would have been more guarded, but he was so happy to see her that the words fell from his lips without his even realizing it.

"Come," she commanded and stepped away from him and toward the house. "We have so much to discuss." Her excitement was palpable, and it caused Hector to chuckle lightly under his breath. She did not even ask what he was doing with their horse, but evidently that was not important at the moment. There were much more dire things to talk about since they had spent so much time apart, and she had meant it so long ago when she had told him she would want to hear everything about his journey. Hector had imagined this moment, but he had not thought she would even seem this elated. Her every step had a new lightness as though at any moment she might take flight, and she was practically glowing with enthusiasm. It seeped out of the pores of her golden skin, and it was a wonder she didn't burst into pure sunlight before him. Despite the apple incident, it was better than the welcome he had earned when he returned to Troy, and all his countrymen lined the streets to cheer for the return of their king and crown prince; this young woman outshone them all. It was more than he thought he deserved, but it pleased him greatly that she had not forgotten him.

When they stepped into the kitchen, Isidora was waiting to hear news of what had happened with the thief. Instead, she nearly had a heart attack when the prince of Troy followed Myrina inside. Hector met her gaze and smirked at the look of shock on her face. She almost appeared as though she had seen a ghost, and Hector was glad he could surprise the woman who so obviously did not approve of him. In that moment, he wordlessly warned her that he was not going anywhere, and that they would not be rid of him so soon. Isidora finally snapped out of it and pushed past them to take care of his horse. The emotions rolling off of her were unmistakable, but Myrina was too happy to have her mood dampened by the servant. Likewise, Hector was simply amused by it.

Without hesitation, Myrina filled a cup with water for him, and he removed his cloak and settled down on the kitchen bench which was much smaller than he recalled it being. Now that there was more distance between them, the prince watched the girl move about the kitchen and was forced to acknowledge that she was no longer a girl. Rather she had grown into a young woman while he was away, and it made his lips curve up into a smile. It seemed like yesterday that she was a child crying in the garden, but already so many years had fallen between them. He was unable to decipher the feelings that arose as he considered how long they had known one another, but he did not had time to consider them further since Myrina sat beside him and handed him the cup of water.

"Your beauty grows with each new moon," he admitted earnestly after taking a sip of water. In response, Myrina granted him a flash of those untamable blue-green eyes that he had come to know so well and had missed dearly while away. The unspoken words within them gave him a hint that she doubted the sincerity of his compliment. He had never said such things to her before he left, but he had no reason to. Looking down at her, he recognized the truth in his own words. Where she had once seemed gangly and somewhat awkward, she had grown into her lithe limbs with subtle curves hidden beneath the layers of her dress. Her medium brown hair was tucked away from her face by a pin that had once belonged to her mother, and the length of it cascaded down to her waist in uninterrupted curls. Though her body had filled out more, the childish roundness to her face had disappeared, revealing the delicate, narrow features beneath her olive complexion. By comparison, her lips seemed fuller, and her eyes stood out even more than they had before, a strikingly bright turquoise against tan skin. Despite these changes, she was still slender and petite beside him with the same narrow frame that had always made her seem far more fragile than Hector knew her to be. In this way she retained a hint of her youth, reminding Hector of their age difference once more, but it seemed so insignificant when he considered the pretty young woman seated beside him on the bench. "Your brothers and father will need to keep a weather eye out. It's only a matter of time before men take notice." He smiled gently as he teased her in the way an older sibling might. No matter how she evolved, she was still his young friend, and his observation was ultimately platonic -or at least he planned to keep it that way.

"I hope such a day never comes," she commented softly while folding her hands in her lap.

It was an unexpected response, and his brow creased in mild confusion. "Why is that?"

She sighed and glanced up at him with a hint of annoyance lining her eyes. "What is there to look forward to? That one day I might marry a fisherman or farmer or potter and live a life cooking, cleaning, and tending to children?" She released a hand to touch the scar on his face and continued longingly, "You have travelled far away and seen so many things that I can only imagine. You have grown so much and experienced new things. I can never have that. The life I will have when I am married will be barely be a change from my current situation. I might as well remain and care for my father and brothers."

He took her hand from his face and placed it on the bench between them. "You should not think so drearily... Life may surprise you."

This garnered him a partial smile, and she squeezed his hand to acknowledge the effect his simple words had on her before shifting the topic of conversation. "Tell me of your journey. What do the lands look like? How do the people behave? What is it like to run into battle?" With each question, the excitement in her voice became more and more evident.

"I will tell you everything," he promised and reached into his cloak where he had hidden his surprise. "But first I brought you something." Myrina straightened up enthusiastically at full attention and expected him to hand her the golden pin. Instead he placed a piece of folded cloth in her outstretched hands, and it was far too heavy to be the pin. Her brow knit in confusion, and she looked at Hector with questioning eyes. "Open it," he coaxed with an amused chuckle. As if the idea hadn't even occurred to her, she quickly untied the knot holding the edges together and unwrapped the layers of cloth to reveal a beautiful shell necklace. Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a time, she merely stared at it, admiring its delicacy and attempting to wrap her mind around the idea that something so precious now belonged to her. When she didn't move, Hector reached over and picked it up for her, dangling it from his finger as though completely unaffected by its beauty. "The women of the Bisaltae tribe make these. I thought you might like it."

If he doubted her admiration for the gift, he merely needed to note her reaction. Myrina was entranced by it and how the light reflected off the pearlescent shells, shimmering slightly before her very eyes. Hesitantly, she reached out to touch one of the shells, but she was careful not to apply too much pressure else the shell crumble between her fingertips. It seemed something worthy of a princess, not a poor daughter of a fisherman. "It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." Hector grinned proudly at her response and unhooked the clasp. Myrina quickly moved her hair aside and shifted so that her back faced the prince while he slipped it around her neck. She turned back to him and wondered, "How does it look?"

"It suits you," he decided, and he was certain it looked far fairer around her slender neck. One of the Bisaltae women had given it to him as a gift before his departure as a sign of her gratitude for the Trojan's participation in the war. Hector obviously had no need for shell necklaces and had initially planned to give it to Cassandra or one of his other sisters, but then he thought of Myrina. Clearly he had made the right choice considering how appreciative she was of the simple gift.

She lifted her left hand to touch the necklace where it sat upon her collarbones, and she was beaming with happiness. Still, she was curious about the token of their friendship and asked, "What of the pin?" She realized it was not nearly so lovely as the necklace, but admittedly, it meant more to her. She hoped Hector hadn't lost it and brought her the piece of jewelry to distract her.

Hector smirked and lifted the edge of his blue shirt to reveal the pin's hiding place at his waist. He detached it and offered it to Myrina who held it for a time. "Would you like it back?"

It was warm from his skin, and she rolled it between her fingers, admiring the tarnished piece. Her smile widened upon seeing the aged pin, but she returned it to Hector's hand once more. "No, I think you should keep it for now." Once the prince closed his hand around the pin, Myrina pressed, "Now you must tell me everything. Do not skip a single detail."

"I doubt can tell it all in one afternoon," he warned with a grin at her excitement.

"Then I will expect you to return as often as is necessary until you have recounted it all."

"As you wish." With that, Hector began by describing his journey across the Aegean Sea, and he did his best to portray the feeling of being surrounded by seemingly endless waves with the infinite expanse of the sky stretched overhead. He explained life at sea even though it was not quite an enjoyable experience, but Myrina did not seem to care. Thus, he explained how easy it was to become restless when confined to such a small amount of space, and what a relief it was to finally be on land again. "You feel like running for hours," he said with a chuckle, thinking of the time they had raced. It seemed so long ago. He did not dwell on the thought, and instead, he described the landscape of Greece, how the tents were constructed, what the Thracian people looked like, how they spoke, and every other thing he could think to tell her about. Normally Hector would have been annoyed recounting to such an extent his travels, but seeing her reaction to every piece of information gave him the feeling that he was reliving his own adventures, bringing each moment back to life for her to experience with him.

"Why would someone do such a horrible thing?" Myrina interrupted when Hector spoke of the Thessalian attack on the Bisaltae camps. Her frown was lined with the same disgust Hector had felt the first time Acamas told him of it.

He had seen such gruesome acts of violence while at war that now the information did not seem as appalling to him. However, the look on her face reminded him of his initial feelings, and he answered, "Greed. Power... There are not often explanations for men's actions."

"What sort of man attacks women and children who cannot defend themselves?"

"In war, men sometimes forget their morality."

"Did you?"

Hector thought of his first battle, and how he had evolved over the course of the war. He liked to think that he had transformed for the better, but there were times that the prince was still uncertain. At length, he offered, "War can change you."

"You would never attack women or children." The statement had a hint of hope to it, and Hector glanced at her, afraid she had grown dubious of his character.

"No," he assured her earnestly.

"What of the Bisaltae tribe now?"

Though she was skipping forward in the story, Hector couldn't blame her and was patient as he answered each question in turn. "They moved further north above the Pieres tribe during the war and have chosen to remain there. It is still too dangerous to be near the border."

"They lost their home."

"They have found a new one where they are safer. It is for the best."

Myrina ducked her chin in toward her collarbone, and Hector gave her a moment to process the information. Eventually, she decided, "Continue."

At the command, Hector discussed how they came to know of Thoas' involvement, and when it came time to describe his first battle, he abandoned the small kitchen bench to better portray the scene. Her mouth was slightly ajar, and her eyes widened when he told her about the Thessalian army charging toward them. He paused as he remembered how her words had floated through his mind and stunned him in the midst of battle. All at once, he decided to skip over that part and pretended as though his first kill had not bothered him as much as it had. Long ago they had made a pact to be honest with one another, but Myrina was much better at holding up her end of the bargain. Hector did not enjoy admitting his vulnerabilities even to his young friend, so he breezed over them without acknowledging them. After all, she would never be the wiser.

"Were you afraid?"

Hector glanced at her from where he was poised with his cup extended as though it were his sword. He abandoned the battle stance and scratched his beard idly as he considered whether to be honest or to lie. A look at her earnest expression, however, pressed him to be truthful though he did so in a roundabout manner, "There were times that I felt a bit of fear, but I had no time to be afraid. You have to act quickly in battle." She seemed content with this response, so he continued and told her about the giant Thessalian warrior he had faced. Myrina gasped when he explained how he had garnered the scar on his face, and he half expected her to cheer as he told her how he overcame the warrior and defeated him. With that, Hector turned to peer out the kitchen window and noticed he had already spent hours with his friend. He sat once more on the bench and said, "I will finish another time."

"No," she protested with a frown. "You cannot end it like that!"

Hector smirked, but he had no intention of continuing that day. "Tell me how you have fared during these three years."

"What is there to tell? My life is not marked by battles or journeys to far away lands."

"After three years of war, normality has more allure to me."

This caught her attention, and she peered up at him, gauging the sincerity of his words. "Very well." She paused to gather her thoughts and consider where she wanted to start and what was worth discussing. The prince gave her his undivided attention as she had given him, and honestly he was curious to hear about what what had happened to her since he left her. He had experienced enough excitement in the past three years that he truly would enjoy hearing about the simplicity of her life. It would be a welcome relief from the violence that had momentarily distorted his perspective on life. Thus, Myrina told him of her daily life, how her father and brothers had fared at sea, about a disagreement she had had with a neighbor, how she regularly made trips to the market in Troy now, and all the meager, insignificant details of her days. Hector occasionally interrupted with a question or comment, or he would laugh or frown at the appropriate times. His participation in the conversation bolstered Myrina, and she was not quite as self-conscious revealing the intricacies of her simple life to the prince. "My eldest brother Aeton will be married," she finally revealed.

Hector raised his brow and smiled. "This pleases you?" He seemed slightly surprised considering her critical view of marriage. Unlike his sisters who could be far too quixotic about love and romance, Myrina was much more realistic -to a fault even.

"Yes. I know he is happy with his match." She tilted her head and admitted, "I think he has always loved her."

"You think your brother can find satisfaction in marriage, and yet you do not believe you can."

It was true, but Myrina wasn't sure how to explain her complicated feelings on the matter. Rather, she decided, "I suppose one day we will see."

"I must leave now." The prince, however, didn't move from his position on the bench as if he did not wish to leave.

Likewise, Myrina remained next to him and impulsively placed her hand on top of his. "I am so glad to know that you have returned."

He met her gaze and smiled gently. "I will visit you again soon."

"You must," she reminded him as they both finally stood. "You have yet to finish your story."

"I know." He set the cup on the kitchen counter and pinned his cloak around his neck once more. The mood shifted to bittersweet in the small space between them at a moment's notice, but this was the burden of their unlikely friendship. As often as they had stolen moments together, they were forced to part each time with the uncertainty of when they were see each other next. Hector shrugged it off and headed outside where Isidora was already waiting with his horse. Evidently she had given up pretending not to eavesdrop on their conversations, and he mounted his horse. "Take care," he said as a final farewell.

"I will," she returned and granted him a soft smile lined with sadness at seeing him depart so soon. Without another word, he dug his heels into his horse's sides, and he was galloping out of the village so swiftly he was almost a blur fading into the distance. As usual Myrina watched after him, and to her surprise, the prince glanced over his shoulder back at her only once. Myrina's heart skipped a beat at the unexpected gesture, and she grinned at him. He didn't acknowledge her reaction and disappeared out of her line of sight only a moment later. She unsure what to make of the abrupt change when he had never before looked back at her, but it pleased her nonetheless. It made her feel that he was as reluctant to leave her side as she was to let him ago. Evidently their time apart had only made her grow more fond of him, and she touched the necklace where it hung over her collarbones. Perhaps the feeling was mutual.


Author's Note: HAPPY LATE BUNNY DAY! :D I really wanted to get this up on Easter, butttt I was a bit incapacitated yesterday and was thus worthless when it came to sitting up, concentrating, and editing X(. This chapter was so exciting for me because the catalyst that instigated this entire story was a dream I had back in December about a woman throwing apples at a man. When I woke up, I couldn't get that dream out of my head because it was so random and bizarre, and I literally just went from there and thought up this story! I guess if you want think about it symbolically too, you can have a field day with that haha

A huge thank you to KawaiiHawaiian and AmyLNelson for the two lovely reviews! :D Kawaii: I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! I could never see Hector with Andromache either for some reason, and I just love him so much that I want to give him another chance even though I basically killed him in the first paragraph of the story haha I hope you liked this chapter. Amy: I'm so glad you like how I write Hector. He's obviously my favorite character from Troy, and I adore him so I love writing things from his perspective. I wanted this to be as much about his evolution into the man that we all know and love as it is a love story. Hopefully you liked how the reunion played out! xoxo