Chapter 35
"First Step"

Recommended Songs: "Starlight" – Muse & "Pickup Truck" – Kings of Leon

The border was pale in morning's light as the young sun threw off the shadows of night and signaled the start of a new day. Horns were blown through the camp, and soldiers met the calls with a reluctant dragging of their feet and grumbles under their breath. From his seat at a campfire, Lysander watched the outpost stirring to break the silence of sleep and poked at the fire to rearrange the logs and keep the flame ablaze but not too overpowering. He nursed the cup of water in his hand feeling his weariness fall heavier and heavier across his shoulders. His liege had not commanded it of him, but some things needn't be spoken among men. The Trojan had kept watch all night to be sure no one interrupted the prince and his companion, and he wondered if his presence would be necessary all day. Having not seen or heard any signs of life from the large tent, he imagined they would find any excuse not to leave the confines, and his thoughts inevitably drifted to his young wife waiting for him in Troy. He would follow a similar course of action when he saw her next no matter how many nights had been stolen from him, and already the thought brought a tightening to his groin that nearly made him throw the cup of water on his face to keep it at bay.

A few soldiers came to join him from nearby tents and waited for a camp follower to find them and fill their stomachs before they were divided up to their individual tasks. The elder men were grumpy so early in the day while the younger ones jovially clapped Lysander on the shoulder and exchanged pleasantries. It was during a break in conversation that a telltale sound escaped the tent, and one of the younger men spoke up, "By my count that's the third time since night."

"Fourth," a much older man corrected, and the group erupted in a rowdy bout of laughter that echoed through the campgrounds.

"You're imagining things, you horny bastard!" another spoke up through his laughter. "You can't hear the crowing of morning!"

"I'm not deaf to all…" the man admitted with a toothy grin that garnered him a heavy smack on the back from one of the soldiers beside him.

"The Prince would be better served if you were," Lysander chided though swiftly dipping the cup to lips to hide the smile still present.

The soldiers shucked him off with sounds of disapproval, and one particularly loose-lipped man was ready to admonish him in return, "You've been at war too long, Lysander. You forget the warmth of a woman."

"And you've never known the pleasure of one," he countered irritably, making the young man shrink back despite himself. The others roared once more, and Lysander shook his head with a heavy sigh and noted a messenger walking toward Hector's tent. It was just a well. A few more moments, and he would have insulted every man gathered. "There's work to be done. Be swift about it so we all can return to our beds and our wives." He parted from them then and quickened his pace to intercept the messenger. "What business do you have with the Prince so early?"

"A message from the King."

"Is it urgent?"

"It is for Prince Hector."

Lysander's brow knit in mild irritation, and he conceded, "Why don't you sit with the men? Eat. Drink. I'll find you when the Prince has finished his morning duties." The messenger hesitated looking past the Trojan soldier's muscular build toward the tent, but Lysander's presence was unyielding in front of him. He had no choice but to surrender, and Lysander gestured toward the nearby fire not sparing a glance at the tent. He couldn't deny his ears perked up as he crossed by the entryway, but there was nothing coming from within that he could perceive now. He damned himself for his own imprudence and followed the messenger back toward the fire though still wondering what the pair were up to…

Myrina fell onto her side breathless, glowing and near laughter at any second, and not a moment later his lips were nestled in the crook of her neck, his beard tickling her like his warm breath falling across her skin. She writhed onto her back to face him and caught his lips for her own, using her hands on his cheeks to hold him there until her lungs ached for air, and when he gave her the chance to breathe as he kissed along her jaw licking at the salty layer of sweat, she grinned and wondered through her uneven breath, "Again? You've barely let me sleep."

His head lifted at the accusation, and he countered, "Did you not wake me this morning with your-"

Her hand covered his mouth before he could tell the secret of her confidence within these confines, and she poorly lied, "I was hungry."

He pushed her hand away to find her mouth taking her bottom lip between his teeth and sucking gently in a way he had discovered made her surrender immediately. As he expected her eyes fluttered closed, and he released that plump flesh to ask, "Are you not satisfied?" The husky tone was not lost on her, and her body shivered pleasantly to hear it come from him. Without warning, he rolled them over letting her straddle his waist and feeling her naked body bear down upon him. He could have taken a city in battle and wouldn't have felt as victorious as running his hands down her bare back and over the curve her butt without any objection from her. Instead she kissed him again and again like her hunger could be satiated with the taste of his lips, and he welcomed her attempt while falling victim to her allure and the effect it had on him. Within these stretched canvas walls excess was indigenous like the rich shades of the sheets and warmth of light mirrored in the bronze, the almost oppressive heat of the fire in the center, the appetite of their naked flesh that stole sleep away, the volume of her laughter resounding so often it was like she had forgotten its ring, and the warmth in his eyes as she had never seen making her realize how much deeper they were to hold so much. But always there was some awareness of the division between their stolen retreat and the severity waiting for them outside this octagonal space sheltered in a thin veil of material. It couldn't be escaped no matter how deeply she buried her face into his skin or how tightly she shut her eyes. This was the dream, but she wanted to wake in it. She felt the shift in his desires with the roughness of his kiss. She wanted to surrender to it –let him wash away these dismal thoughts, but gradually she pulled away staring down at him with an unreadable expression. Her hair fell around them in a thick curtain that shaded her features from his sight, and he pushed some back so the light could reach her face and illuminate her thoughts. Still he couldn't understand the look in her eyes, but he didn't need to ask.

"I don't want to return," she whispered in barely a breath.

He softened with a sigh feeling the heated desire in his blood fade at the mention of tomorrow. He wasn't wary to face the next sunrise but the broad unending tomorrow that was waiting in Troy. He took her other cheek into his palm as well and promised, "You'll return with me."

"Your father won't allow it."

"He no longer has a say in this."

Her brow creased slightly more in doubt than confusion. "What will you do?"

"I'll marry you…" His eyes searched hers as those simple words sifted through both of them. Fantastical. Impossible. But he meant them. "...and bear the consequences."

"I don't want you to surrender your country or family for me. I'd never ask that of you."

"You haven't… But that doesn't mean I wouldn't."

"You've already sacrificed for me…"

"And you have for me."

"I'm tired of fighting, Hector."

He didn't see the defeat in her eyes, but he knew her to be stronger than maybe she even imagined. He understood her exhaustion for he felt it himself deeper than his bones. A war of many years, but he had been taught never to surrender –never to lose. There was renewed vigor in him after this night like this skinny young woman had given him strength. He felt invincible again but in a way so much more powerful than Merops could ever have foreseen. With her at his side, he could be destroyed but never defeated. "Then I'll fight for you."

She recognized that tone which didn't allow for objections, and for once she was wise or perhaps hopeful enough to listen. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as the only sign of her lingering apprehension, but she gently nodded her head. He granted her a subtle smile to cut away the tension hanging over them. It wasn't welcome this morning. Not so early. "You're hungry," he recalled though his eyes still flickered with insatiable need, "for food."

"Yes, I need my strength." One corner of her mouth lifted sinfully to hint at what the remainder of the day held for the two, and seeing such a look from her travelled down his chest and abdomen and reawakened his want. His hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her down to crush her lips in an ardent kiss. His impulse was to flip her beneath him and satisfy his need, but he knew he would never lose his hunger for her. Reluctantly he ended his attack on her senses and noted she was limp in his arms with her eyes unfocused peering down at him. She looked absolutely lost in the wake of his lips like he had sucked the breath and reason from her in one fell attempt. He grinned and shifted her over to lie on the bed while he stood to see what there was to offer her. Her gaze followed after him to admire the long uninterrupted lines of his body from this angle while chewing thoughtfully on her lip; but her cheeks flushed in a bout of embarrassment as she realized what he had reduced her to, and she rolled onto her back to keep those thoughts away. Even such a simple move made her cringe, and she couldn't ignore the stiffness of her body settling deep into her muscles and making them grip her bones too tightly.

"I don't think I'll walk for days," she admitted as she acknowledged the extent of her soreness particularly centering between her legs. Her body was bruised and battered, but she had never felt so healed.

"That may be to my advantage." He was all jovial exchanges, quick wit responses, and unrestrained smiles that morning, and she had never realized until then how she had never seen that side of him before. Perhaps in bits and pieces, but there was always an air of responsibility and duty surrounding him to chase away such candor. One hand unconsciously fell down to rest on her abdomen and drew her attention by coincidence. On her back the surface was flat bordering sunken and making her hips jut out in a way she disliked. Stress and a lack of appetite during this last year had hardened her body, and her hand sat heavily on the space remembering the warmth of his release spreading within her and imagining a subtle, gentle mound there instead of a slight depression. Even picturing it in her mind she had this overwhelming sensation of peace and bliss like a vision of a future she had always dreamt of in secret. The weight of his hand awoke her from that reverie where it fell over her own and reminded her she would fight tooth and nail for him –for this. Initially he worried he had injured her, but when he saw her features relaxed and glowing in pure serenity, he realized it was the opposite. "What?"

She smiled gently but couldn't voice those complex emotions. It seemed like bad luck to think so optimistically when they hadn't yet taken the first step. "I have a nephew," she revealed instead. "He's so beautiful… His name is Antenor."

He had an intuition why the topic came to her mind but didn't acknowledge it while running his thumb over her hand. "You have me at a disadvantage."

"Why?"

"I'm the eldest… I've no nephews or nieces yet."

"And that is a disadvantage?" He didn't answer for the same reason she hadn't spoken truthfully with him earlier, but his silence was ripe with a response. She flushed subtly biting back a broader grin and sat up to steal a grape from the platter he brought for them. There was time for that, she hoped. The shift in conversation gave her a lighter perspective, and she broached a topic that had been itching at the back of her mind, "My brother says you wished to have him executed."

As she expected, his head dropped slightly as though to acknowledge a mistake. "I would not have ordered it."

"You threatened it… I warned you long ago he was a thorn in my side," she teased with another grape poised on her lips only because she knew Alkaios' life was safe from Hector.

"He saved my life."

"Truly? I thought he was exaggerating."

"We can't be sure," he conceded and flashed her a masculine grin. "But he killed a man who attacked me when I was unaware." At the mention his hand reached across to touch the back of his right shoulder where the scar was still fresh and subtly pink against his tan skin. It had been an angry wound that didn't wish to heal reopening again and again –due in part to his running into battle too soon. Patience unfortunately was not one of his virtues. Her small fingers pushed his aside to slide across the smooth skin slightly protruding from the rest.

"And you were angry with him for saving you?"

"No, no. I was grateful for his help, but when I ordered him to retreat before me, he refused."

"Disobedience is worth death?"

"In this case it could have resulted in his end and my own. I wouldn't sacrifice one of my men when it isn't necessary. He should have obeyed me."

"You're both alive," she murmured gently.

"Yes…" He rolled a grape between his thumb and forefinger as he remembered that night. The foul odor of flesh burning sifted through him, and he quickly sipped at the wine to overpower it. "He mentioned something interesting that night."

"He has many stories. Few of them are true."

"Then you'll tell me honestly if this is a fabrication or truth." He watched her innocently chew on another piece of fruit and offered his cup. "He said you asked for him to watch over me."

The memory had somehow evaded her, and now she flushed at having it revealed without her foresight and bent her head to drink in the hopes he wouldn't notice. "I never asked him. He was teasing me. He said he would keep an eye on you for me." Hector was smiling in pleasure to hear that she was concerned for him and likely deducing his own assumptions about her conversation, and that was the only reason she added, "I told him to look after himself. Clearly he didn't listen... I need to speak with the healer today."

"How is he faring?"

"Poorly." The reminder made her feel guilty for not thinking of him earlier in the morning. What manner of sister did that make her? Or what power did it give Hector to clear her thoughts so completely? "He is weak, but he has his wits about him it seems. His leg is what concerns me most. He says a piece of the dagger was left within, and that the healer must remove it before the wound will close. I don't know how long he's been suffering. I can't bear to see him like that."

"He won't suffer any longer," Hector promised without hesitation. After all, Alkaios would be a brother in time. "I'll see to it."

"Thank you… I should see him soon. I don't want him to be alone." Her gaze inevitably fell across the space where her torn dress was discarded on the floor. 'Will I walk about naked?'

His attention followed hers, and he smiled slyly shameless almost to see the evidence of his fervor. "A camp follower will have a needle and thread. You can take my cloak to cover you until we find something more suitable."

"How long will we be here?" She said it so casually like she were trying out the feel on her tongue, but their fates were easier linked in her words than their actions.

It wasn't lost on him, and he enjoyed the acknowledgment of their new reality. "A week. Two at the most. The last of the troops should arrive in a few days time. They'll rest, and we'll journey with them to Troy."

Her gaze lowered beneath the weight of her thoughts. "And after…?"

"I'm not sure yet." Their silence reached a breach of withheld words and thoughts, but Hector wouldn't fall victim to this potential turn of events. There was much for them to discuss and to plan, but this was not the end. 'This is not the end,' his mind repeated while his eyes drank her in the morning, bare save the mussed brown hair falling neglectfully down to her waist and across one shoulder. He remembered the curves and sinewy lines of her figure illuminated by warm candlelight that made her womanly and feel soft in his hands, but now that silhouette was accented with sharp angles of her collarbones and shoulders and hips. Those arms and legs so skinny where they folded around her that she seemed fragile, breakable, a betrayal to the power she had shown the night before. Where was that fighter now? Who had stolen it from her while he was away? An unconscious frown cut into his features, and he broached, "What did you wish to tell me last night?" Intuitively he knew whatever had caused her so much pain would no doubt ruin his light mood and make him wrought with fury, but he needed to know all the same whether to ease his own guilt or to name his adversary, for any enemy to her was his as well.

She wiped away the dark wine staining lips and stole what time she could to gather her thoughts and settle the divide arising from this topic. It would be therapeutic spilling her soul and finally being acknowledged for all that she had endured silently in his name, but her tongue caught thinking of Aeneas, Hector's cousin and closest friend. Would her experience sour his affections? There was a time Myrina would have knelt before Hector and begged for vengeance, but the memory of his face etched out of that darkness carved in jealously and pain with those silvery blue eyes so raw… What more did he deserve? She had delivered her own salvation with a punishment she knew well. "There is no need to speak of the past."

That frown shaded deeper into his face, his dark eyes hardening to tear down the wall she was drawing between them. His attention darted across her body for any obvious signs. No bruises. No lacerations. Her virtue was in tact before last night, but she had said… "Wolves," he murmured beneath his breath, and her eyes darted up too swiftly to meet his making him realize he had stumbled upon the truth. So it was. "Who?"

She could never hide from him and turned her eyes down in a poor attempt to protect the very man she should forsake. Subtly she shook her head keeping her gaze downcast for safe measure, but Hector shifted forward imposing himself in her space and furious over a fact she hadn't revealed yet. "You'll make too much of it."

"Shouldn't I?"

"You're already angry, and you don't even know what happened."

"I know enough."

Those blue-green eyes flashed beneath her lashes to sustain his gaze and challenge that pyre with her own. "You know nothing."

"Then tell me."

'You won't wish to know!' her mind screamed at him, but her lips drew a line across her face as she weighed the options. Already too much had been admitted for them to continue blissfully in this fashion. He would find out even if she did not tell him. It was his nature. "Not long after you left for war, my home was attacked by foreigners. I was told they were men from Cilicia –from when you had travelled to the border long ago." The soft crease in her brow spoke of her confusion. Hector had his own assumptions but kept his lips sealed while she continued, "I didn't truly understand… But whoever they were, they were unwelcome. We could hear the men of my village yelling out warnings. Telling everyone to keep inside. Korina was with me and Isidora as well… I remember hearing the screams of our neighbors from outside and not knowing what was happening. Korina looked so pale… So pale, and she was weeks from giving birth." Her voice quieted as she gathered her thoughts from momentarily losing herself in the vivid memory playing out in bits and pieces behind her eyes. The blurry focus of her distress clouding images and her adrenaline shooting through her that day to sharpen others. Their faces haunted her… "I told them to hide. I couldn't let them harm Isidora or Korina and her child. My father and brother were at sea. I was the only one who could protect them, and I told them to hide in the back room with the door blocked while I tried to send the men away… I knew it was dangerous and foolish, but I was-" Her eyes searched Hector's seeing his disapproval written so blatantly while her mind finished 'expendable.' "I had to protect them, but they broke through the door. Two of them. I had to keep them back –for my family's sake. I tried so hard fighting them off. I remember yelling, pushing, trying to force them back. Then Korina was screaming, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. One of the men grabbed me, and I… Everything went black and quiet." Hector's features had turned to stone, his eyes as dark as onyx with his anger. It wasn't directed at her, but it hit a nerve making her look away, knowing the worst was yet to come. "When I awoke I had been taken. I thought by the men who broke into our home, but it was soldiers."

"What!" he hissed sharply in disbelief. "Soldiers of Troy?"

Her tone was dismal as she corrected, "Soldiers of Dardania."

Nothing more had to be said. Hector was on his feet pacing back and forth through the space, grumbling some curse beneath his breath and nearly shuddering with rage like he knew every minute detail of her stay in the city, but it was in his head. His worst nightmare playing out when he was unable to protect her. He was furious like he had never been before. "A wolf," he growled out thinking of his cousin's hands on her. When he was hungry for more, he turned to her and pressed, "What did he do?"

"He took me to the palace to heal…" Her breath came unevenly under the weight of Hector's gaze so penetrating and overpowering. It was stirring up old memories and old pains, and she was torn between the truth and a dismissal of the topic. "He lied to me," she confessed in a short exhale, but her voice still broke. "He told me I couldn't be taken home because it was too dangerous –that the men were still out there… I didn't know what had become of Isidora or Korina. I was so afraid of what had happened to them, but he wouldn't let me go. Isidora told me later he had sent a messenger to them telling them where I was and that I was happy. I had no idea."

"What did he do?" he repeated mechanically the weight of his temper filling the interior until she was suffocating beneath it. She barely noticed the impact of a warm tear on her knee, but his muscles flexed like it were a violation to him, a deep treachery, an act of treason. He wanted to ride to the Dardanian palace without resting to personally tear Aeneas limb from limb, but watching the tears line her eyes, it stole his strength and made his arms twitch for want of reaching to circle her. He was caught between and stood stiffly staring mesmerized and infuriated.

"He was the one who told me of the engagement… I couldn't believe it. I've never… I've never experienced pain like that." At the thought her hand instinctively covered her heart surprised to feel it beating as strongly as ever after it had been torn apart. Despite the tears in her eyes, she gazed at Hector and promised him, "He never hurt me. What he did was wrong, but he meant to care for me. He was kind to me and looked after me no matter how I lashed at him." The sharp tense lines of his silhouette warned her he was still furious even with this assertion, and a sickening dread fell in her gut like a block of ice turning her blood cold and sending shivers across her skin. She had never seen that dead haunting look in his eyes like they unleashed his violence with relish. The chestnut eyes she loved now cold, strange, and unfamiliar. "He did not betray you. I withheld the truth for too long… But I told him it was you. He sent me away the next day. He never betrayed you."

Finally his head turned swiveling above those broad shoulders to gaze toward the entryway and toward Troad. The intensity of his eyes were so powerful she wondered if Aeneas didn't feel them burning into him. She shifted from the bed and padded toward him softly. Her hands rested on his hips while her lips nestled in the center of his chest pressing heavily where she could feel the powerful repercussion of his heartbeat. Her wet cheeks stained his chest, and she couldn't be certain which touch broke him. But his arms circled her tenderly, and she recognized the damp heat of his mouth caressing her forehead along her hairline until he reached her temple. He bent farther lowering his face beside her ear where he admitted, "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you." It brought fresh tears warm and sticky to her eyes, and she buried her face into his chest shamefully –for being so weak and for lashing at him viciously yesterday.

"Don't punish him," she pleaded.

"He's my cousin." Hector inhaled the scent of her hair turning into those curls to enjoy it more fully and feeling the rush of her through him to calm the last of his fury. Only she had the power to bring him such simple peace, and holding her naked and crying to him, he promised, "It won't happen again."

She smiled in relief and tilted her head back with her hair falling across his arms, but she needed to test the allure of his words with a question, "When will we tell my father?"

"When we return… I'd like to see him, not send a messenger."

"Make sure he sits," she advised and laughed softly. "He'll be so pleased. He's tried to marry me off too many times to count."

"And you declined?" he wondered with a hint of admiration.

"I could never be with anyone else." An uncomplicated resolution to years of complications. In her heart, she wondered if she hadn't loved him since the first time they met.

Author's Note: Hello dolls! A short chapter, I know, but I didn't want to overwhelm it with outside matters. It was a slice of the haven they made inside his tent, and in the next chapter, they'll address all the other crap when they return to Troy. Myrina will even have a chance to speak with Priam, so that'll be fun :)

Thanks to AmyLNelson, Syrena Swift, klandgraf2007, and XoXMaximumCulleNXoX!

Amy: Too long haha I'm so glad you approved of Hector... Who doesn't like a manly man to be 'you are my woman' haha And I'm also glad you liked Myrina being feisty toward him. I know this chapter wasn't too exciting, but I didn't feel it needed to be. Lysander was funny though haha Hope you still liked it, gorgeous xoxo

Syrena: Omg I totally laughed out loud when I read your review! I've missed my dose of Rosie :) I know you've been waiting for it a long time. Wasn't it just yesterday you were threatening me if I didn't get them together and make some babies? hahaha I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well! ;)

klandgraf: Well hello! Hector not react well to her stay in Dardania? What? He's unjealous and unprotective of his girl pssssshhhh. Total lie. But I'm going to give him a chance to talk to Aeneas at the wedding! As to the stick up Aeton's ass... Still present, but he's gunna get a rude wake up call seeing his little sister marry Hector! I love taking know-it-alls down a notch haha I hope you liked this chapter :D

Maximum: Short and sweet. I dig it :) I hope you enjoyed reading this one too! xoxo