A/N: I think we've already established that I'm the worst updater in the world, and I'm sorry. My math grade caught up with me. But it's summer now, and I'll try my hardest to get one new chapter or oneshot up at least once a week. A trip to Vegas and a country concert won't interfere…much.

Thanks so much to LarirenShadow for helping me with the idea for this chapter, or Chapter Fourteen wouldn't exist for a long time. And thanks to Gaslight for beta-ing and catching all my stupid mistakes.

And to re-cap: Hector bought Andromache a vase, took her to the Tower of Ilium, and she hugged him. Here we go again!

Chapter Fourteen: Hands

The Theban vase Hector had bought for me was not the only reminder of my old home. The absence of my parents and brothers shadowed me like an unwelcome guest. I strove to keep myself busy during the day. My fingers were constantly entwined in vibrant thread as I wove, my eyes always sharp as I oversaw servants. Yet sometimes, even when I kept my body occupied, my mind was free to wander. And wander it did, straight past the dazzling sea and back to the less sophisticated paths of Thebe.

Contrary to the stubborn resolutions I had made before leaving home of not becoming attached to Hector, I found that I enjoyed his company. As the crown prince of Troy, he was always working. It seemed like every day his presence was required at a council, and because Priam was not physically stable, he looked after the city's military as well. Unlike my father had done in Thebe, Hector did not order others to train new soldiers and take no part in it himself. He played a huge role in the teaching. For infantrymen, he left some of the training to Aeneas or his generals, and he only checked in with the archery recruits a few times. But the horsemen were a different matter. Hector himself selected a promising few out of all the trainees, and he educated them himself on fighting on horse and driving chariots. It was no wonder that the Trojan soldiers, especially the cavalrymen, were unshakably loyal to him.

Because of his call of duty, I rarely saw my husband except for early in the morning, and then not again until late in the afternoon. After only a few weeks of marriage, I admitted to myself that those were my favorite parts of the day. I made it a point to be finished with whatever tasks I was doing or supervising by the time Hector came home. I was always the only one in our chambers when he strode inside. Sometimes he would flop down on the bed, hot and exhausted, and mumble his greeting. More often he would sit a few feet away from me and smile, asking how my day had been as if he were truly interested. We talked about anything and everything that came to mind until it was time for the evening meal.

Our conversations never touched on deep or uncomfortable topics, but they were still valuable to me. I grew to be much more relaxed around him, and felt free to be myself. Even though he smiled easily, I enjoyed making him smile and laugh at my stories of Thebe, and he told me legends of Troy as well as stories of his own childhood. We settled into an easy friendship, not bound by oath or love, but friends all the same.

Unfortunately, Hector had little time to spare for friendship. While I could forget my feelings of homesickness when I was with him, he wasn't available often enough to cure me. I was lucky to have other friends in Troy to take my mind off Thebe.

One of these friends was Aeneas. He stopped by at least once a day to check up on me, I suspect because he knew I was lonely. He never stayed more than a few minutes, but his visits were always cheerful. In spite of his longtime friendship with Hector, he loved to tell stories that his cousin might find embarrassing.

We were sitting in the entry hall one afternoon while Aeneas told me of one such instance. Apparently Hector had gotten drunk at a festival and tried to woo a dancing girl, only to havesomeone elsewin her over instead.

"You should have seen him, Andromache," Aeneas said with a chuckle. "Hector was so drunk he could barely comprehend the situation!"

"I can't imagine it," I replied, and indeed I could not. I knew Hector mostly as the responsible Prince, with only fleeting glimpses of his boyish side. It was hard to imagine him having flaws, even being drunk.

"He had so much trouble walking home! Nearly fainted halfway to the-"

At that moment, a guard pushed open the front doors from the outside, and the sunlit opening darkened with Hector's form. From the way he stumbled, it was apparent that it would be one of those days where he flung himself onto our bed and rested until supper. He headed toward the corridor that led to our chambers, stopping when he saw Aeneas and I.

"Welcome back, cousin," Aeneas greeted him happily. "I was just telling your lovely bride about the time you got drunk and wooed that maiden at the festival."

"Ah," Hector croaked, distractedly wiping the beads of sweat from his brow. "I'm sure she found it amusing."

"Of course she did," Aeneas answered for me, springing up from his chair. "I'll leave you to rest."

"Do not forget-" Hector started.

"That we're working with the new spearmen tomorrow, Hector, I know," Aeneas finished, with a wink at me as he left the palace.

"Did you enjoy his visit?" Hector asked tiredly as I rose from my chair.

"I always do," I replied, completely unaware of how my response would later feed Hector's suspicions.

I did not think Aeneas' visit that day was particularly important. If anything, the visit he made a few days later stands out in my mind more.

Hector had a few hours free that morning, so he took Lampos out for a ride in the hills. He had invited me to come, but I politely declined. Though I knew Lampos was well trained, I still feared the huge beast. I was resting in my room when a maid informed me that Aeneas had come to visit. I met him in the entryway.

He was a wreck. Every mark of his dignified presence had deserted him for a day. His proud shoulders slumped and his lithe body sagged. His smooth brow was pinched with distress, and his blue eyes were dark with sorrow. "I need to speak with you," he said wildly as I approached.

Everything about him was so different that I wondered if something tragic had happened. "Is something wrong? Did something happen to Hector? Cassandra?"

"No," he cut me off. "Everyone is in good health. I just…I need your advice."

"Oh." I was relieved. I took a step toward the chairs we usually sat in, but Aeneas thrust out a hand to stop me.

"Please, anywhere but here. I do not wish to be overheard," he implored quietly, desperation clear in his voice. I was truly curious now. What could bring such a man to despair?

"Follow me," I said. "We can talk in the garden."

I loved the garden. It was private, with high white walls and a single entrance from the palace. There were fig and lemon trees, as well as vines and pale green ferns. An impressive fountain with a statue rising out of its water stood in the center, flanked by two stone benches. The statue in the fountain was an intricately carved man in armor. Hector had already explained that this figure was Tros, the man who founded Troy. The balcony of the chambers Hector and I shared overlooked the garden. No servants were permitted to enter the garden save for the groundskeepers, and it was deserted that day.

Aeneas lowered himself onto one of the benches, leaving enough room for me to sit beside him. The serenity of the garden seemed to calm him down a bit. The only sound was that of footsteps, drifting from my rooms to our ears. I dismissed the sound as a servant, and Aeneas did as well. He stared at his footprints in the soft dirt for a few seconds before speaking what was on his mind.

"I'm in love," he stated, not meeting my eyes. "And Hector is going to hate me for it."

I didn't know Hector well enough to correct his notion. For all I knew, it could be true, but I did my best. "Hector probably has no reason to hate you for following your heart," I soothed. Aeneas looked up at me, disbelief etched deep into his face.

"Not unless it's someone he loves as well," he said.

His words triggered an intense response from my mind that thankfully did not reach my mouth. Hector has a mistress, I realized. My heart burned at the memory of his promise to be faithful. And why was Aeneas telling me this, of all people? Could he not see how much he was hurting me?

I hurried to reason with myself. He is allowed to have mistresses. It was only an arranged marriage. If he found love with some other woman, I should be happy for him.

I concentrated on curving my lips into a false smile, wondering if Aeneas would see past the poorly constructed mask of indifference. "If he loved this woman first, perhaps you should not cut in." The advice sounded reasonable to me.

"But he'll always love her," he protested. "Worse yet, she is royalty. I could not marry her in secret."

Royalty? Was there some foreign princess visiting Troy that I did not know about? Perhaps my husband was not riding in the hills, but visiting his lover. "Talk to him about it, Aeneas," I said slowly. "Maybe he doesn't love her as much as you think." In the moment of silence at the end of my words, I heard the heavy footsteps growing quiet as the servant left my chambers.

It was too much to hope for. "Oh, but he does," Aeneas groaned. "He'll never let me marry his sister."

The nauseating weight danced off my mind as soon as he uttered those blessed words. I even smiled slightly.

"Does my plight amuse you?" Aeneas inquired, burying his head in his hands.

"No, not at all!" I assured him. My relief was sliced short as another thought struck me. Why was I so upset over Hector being with another woman?

"I do not want to ruin our friendship over a girl," Aeneas continued, oblivious to my worries. "But oh, this maiden…" he trailed off, the merest hint of a smile on his face.

"Which sister are you speaking of?" I asked. He sat up straighter, showing more of his normal self.

"Creusa," he confided in a whisper. His eyes positively glowed as he spoke her name. I had seen that look before, on my brother Dagamede's face when he met his wife. This was obviously love, not infatuation.

"She's a bit young for marriage," I said delicately, not wanting to tread on Aeneas' hopes. Hector was protective of all his siblings, the sisters especially. Creusa was still a few years away from marriage, so I doubted Hector would appreciate his friend's advances.

"I know she is. And she isnine years younger than I," he said with fervor. "But I love her. I want to be her promised husband before she is betrothed to anyone else."

"You must talk to Hector, and tell him of your feelings!" I encouraged him. "And then go to Priam."

He leaned closer to me. "Priam hates me," he muttered. "It's Hector I must convince." Abruptly he took my hand in both of his. "Andromache," he said solemnly. "Promise me you will not breathe a word of this to Hector."

I hesitated. Keeping secrets from Hector was no way to earn his trust. Aeneas squeezed my hand hopefully and I saw that I had no choice.

"I promise," I agreed. He smiled, chastely kissing my cheek before he rose to his feet.

"I am lucky to have you," he said gratefully. As he turned toward the garden's exit, Hector came through it.

All three of us froze. How much did he hear? I wondered. He seemed rigid, almost accusatory in his stance, but I could have been imagining it.

Aeneas ended the awkward moment with his god-given charm. "Hello, Hector," he grinned. "Just chatting with your wife. I'll see you at the evening meal," he said quickly, gracefully moving around Hector and straight through the door.

I found myself praying that Hector hadn't heard the mention of Creusa's name, for Aeneas' sake. I got to my feet slowly, trying to think of a way to conceal our conversation without lying to my husband. There was a fraction of a second where I thought Hector's eyes showed comprehension and anger, but as soon as I blinked the expression had vanished.

"I thought you went riding," I said casually.

Hector shifted his weight slightly. "I came back because I was tired," he explained. At the time, particularly at the moment, we weren't confident in admitting that we enjoyed simply being together. Hector told me later that he had come back early to spend the rest of his free time with me. "I think I'll go back up to our chambers and rest," he continued quietly.

"I should work on my weaving," I admitted, though there was nothing I would like less. It was the wifely thing to do.

When we reached our rooms, Hector lay down facing the wall with his back toward me. I could not help but notice that his breathing did not become steady and slow for a long time. He must have lain awake, and I worried that he had heard more than I expected.

I did not find out until two days later. I had not spent much time in those days with Hector nor Aeneas, but had been cooped up weaving and overseeing servants. Finally I tired of those chores. Being a princess of Troy had its advantages- I could pause in my tasks to rest or lounge about. I took a break from the mundane work and left the palace. I was not in good enough humor to visit Briseis or Ilione, and the hike to the temples in the blazing heat made a trip to see Cassandra seem like torture. Instead I strolled to the sandy courtyard Hector used to train new soldiers, hoping he would be there and not in a council.

He was, and so were Aeneas and a small group of soldiers. I stayed on the outside of the chest-height wall, stopping when I found a section that was shaded by a tree. I propped my elbows on the wall and rested my head in my hands as I watched the men train. Ilione had taken me there once before, so I knew that the servants and even female members of the royal family were permitted to watch the drills. I was the lone observer that day.

In the blistering heat, it would have been punishment for the men to wear full armor. Most had stripped down to their skirts and sandals, but a few kept their body armor on despite the sun. Hector and Aeneas were among the smart ones who removed their tunics. They were working separately with different recruits, men fresh out of boyhood who looked nervous to be taught by their commanders.

Aeneas spotted me and waved briefly. They were working with wooden training swords that day, moving in slow sequences that let the new soldiers spot weaknesses and try to hit them. They seemed to be catching on, but a few who looked very nervous were still having trouble. One awkwardly lunged at Hector's bare throat, but Hector's arm was extended before he had completed the move. It was clear that in a real battle, the man would have been impaled.

"Use the shield," Aeneas said when he saw the soldier's mistake. He picked up a light shield and beckoned to Hector to help him demonstrate.

It was then that I saw one of Hector's flaws, and I was amazed. He was a hero, a man larger than life, a legend. But I saw then more than ever that he was human.

I saw the glint in Hector's eyes but thought nothing of it. For a moment, it looked like the pair were executing a practiced attack, but then I saw Aeneas' confused expression. He had to move quickly to block Hector's blows. Hector was powerful enough to force him back, and when Aeneas had his shield raised, he slashed through the air and the broad side of his wooden sword crashed on his friend's hip.

Realization hit me as the blow landed. No. He wouldn't be that immature. But at the same time, I knew he would be. It was a trick I had seen in Thebe. When my two eldest brothers had a disagreement, they would fight each other with wooden swords, under the pretense of training. They would bestow bruises until their anger was fully let out, and they could not be punished for their actions, as they never hurt each other badly enough for it to be called a real fight. That was what Hector was doing now, but why?

I thought back to the conversation Aeneas and I had had. He must know about Creusa, I thought in dismay. Hector landed another blow, this one softer, and Aeneas lunged forward to swing his own sword at Hector's shin. The soldiers were bewildered. Clearly this was not a practiced match, but there was no way for them to stop it.

"Hector!" I called, knowing exactly how foolish I was being. I could not call him from a fight like a mother would do to her child! He looked up at me with a glare as he parried Aeneas' final defensive thrust. Aeneas stepped back, but Hector's eyes were still locked on mine, a threat burning brightly in them.

He is going to beat me, I told myself. It would be a just punishment. A good wife would not interfere, but I could not let him hurt Aeneas. If he had not wanted to tell me, Hector would not have heard. I had some blame in the matter.

Hector's look of rage was too much for me to handle; I lowered my eyes to the ground and fled. Briefly I considered running to the maiden's quarters for refuge; but I knew the beating would be worse if I tried to avoid it. I imagined Hector's huge fists aimed at my face. It would be no more than I deserved, but the thought was still horrifying.

I ended up back in my chambers. I sat down against the wall, drawing my knees up to my chest. Waiting for Hector's return was a nightmare. I was sure that every set of footsteps I heard would bring my pain. After a quarter of an hour, the door flew open.

"I'm sorry," I choked out as Hector stormed into the room. He stomped to where I crouched and wrapped his hands around my shoulders, hauling me up to my feet. Looking into his face, contorted with rage, I first saw the reason people whispered that he was the favorite of Ares.

"I promised to remain faithful to you," he said hotly, tightening his grip. His strong hands sent waves of agony through my arms, and I knew there would be bruises from his grasp the next day. Tears as hot as the sun blurred my vision. "I promised. Did that mean nothing to you?"

"I told him he should tell you," I said shrilly. "He knew you would be angry-"

"Of course I'm angry!" Hector roared. The tears cascaded down my cheeks, leaving wet trails before dropping to the floor. One landed on his wrist, but I doubt he noticed. "I was told you were a woman of honor!"

"I should not have kept it a secret," I blubbered, wishing he would let me go and just hit me. The pain of his fists would be more tolerable than his disappointment.

"You should not have done it at all! You betrayed me in favor of laying with my best friend," he said, shaking me violently as I sobbed. "Were you planning to run away, Andromache? Was he going to marry you in Thebe?"

Suddenly it all became sickeninglyclear. The footsteps I had heard while talking with Aeneas were Hector's. But terrified as I was, I could not think straight. "I have never been unfaithful," I moaned. "I have never lain with him!"

He stopped shaking me. "Would you lie to me?" he asked in a voice a fool would recognize as dangerous.

"No! I swear it!" I pleaded through sobs I could not stop.

"In the garden he said he loved someone royal that I loved as well! And then later you agreed to keep it a secret!"

"It is not I! I swear," I cried desperately. "He confided in me; he wanted my advice, nothing more." It seemed like a hundred more tears had made their trails on my face. "I swear," I said once more.

Abruptly I fell to the floor as Hector released his grip. I crawled back to the wall and curled up, trying to stop crying. Hector stared at his palms in awe before dropping them to his sides.

"Who is it?" he asked, taking a step back from where I was.

"One of your sisters," I whispered, choosing to look at the floor rather than at him. In a flash he was at my side. The hands that had shook me only moments before now caressed my cheekbones, gentle as a lamb.

"I am sorry," he said quietly. "I overheard you…I was too angry to think. I'm sorry." I fought to control my sobs, and to convince myself that his hands did not want to hurt me now. More than anything, I did not want to have to fear my husband.

"I will never hurt you again," he whispered, his voice pained. He stroked my shoulder as if trying to heal the bruise, but the wound went deeper than my skin. "I am so sorry," he said again.

I nodded, still afraid. Hector kept his promise and never again lifted a hand to hurt me, but the trust we had established had fractured. It would take more time to repair what was lost, and until then, I could not help but fear what his strong hands could do.

Thanks so much for reading! No responses to reviews, as I'm not going to have a ton of time on the internet and I'd rather focus on just getting more chapters up. Kudos to anyone who got the 'The Laws of Brotherhood' reference. I just can't let that story be completely dead! Hope you enjoyed, and let me know what you think, since even I didn't expect this chapter to turn out like this.