IMPORTANT INFO: I make a reference to greek mythology in this chapter. Here's the background you must know in order to understand it. Apollo is the god of the sun, mythology says that he drives his chariot- to which the sun is connected- and that's the way you have the orbit of the sun. He had a son, Phaethon, who was prideful and asked to drive the chariot. Phaethon was half-mortal, because his mother was human. Apollo told him he wasn't strong enough because the horses were wild and the strength of a god was needed to control them. Phaethon ignored his father's warning, and because of a promise Apollo had made him, Apollo had to let him drive the chariot. He drove it and lost control of it. The horses pulled the chariot every which-way, and in the end Phaethon went too close to the earth and burned it (which is how the Ethiopians got dark skin, according to greek mythology) and finally Zeus hurled a thunderbolt at Phaethon and killed him, in order to prevent the earth from being burnt to death. So Phaethon died because of his foolish pride.
Ok, a few notes. In my translation of the Iliad (tr. Richard Lattimore) it spells Thebes as Thebe. So I'll be sticking to that since I'm basing this part of the story on his book. And thanks to mary scot for the map, that was the location my Greek Mythology teacher had told me about. It works out better now, so if any of you want a visual as to where Thebe is in relation to Troy, look at that map. It's not quite on the water, but we'll say it is. And yes, Thebes was the capitol of Egypt, but there was another one near Troy.
As to Andromache being a bit mean, I wanted her to be like that. Because of traditions at that time, women usually got married as young girls, usually around 16-18. Ok, that's not really young, but you get what I mean. I'm making Andromache 18 in this story, and I've decided to put Hector at around 25. I realize that's a seven year age difference, but that wasn't considered abnormal in that time, and I'm trying to make this story as realistic as possible. So as to Andromache acting petty and mean, I was intentionally trying to figure out how an eighteen-year-old would act in that situation. So if you want an age range, I'm going to say Andromache is about 18, Euklides about 20-21, and the Arimedes 30. The rest of her brothers will range between 21-29. It's not really important. Sorry I didn't make Andromache's age clear. I'm basing this on a time frame, and since in Troy (the movie) Hector seemed to be in his 30's, I'm going to have their marriage last for about ten years before the war starts. So in my stories Hector will be 35 when the war starts. Now, in the Iliad this would be impossible, since the war lasts for ten years. But since I'm not going according to the Iliad, I apologize to anyone who was hoping for a pure-Homer fic. I hope you'll enjoy this one though. Now, onto the story.
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Andromache awoke to a splitting headache and a sick feeling in her stomach. She opened her eyes, then instantly wished she hadn't as the room started swaying. Groaning, she put her hands over her eyes, trying to get control of her stomach.
"Andromache?" she heard a voice say. She winced.
"Not so loud," she whispered. "What happened?"
"Prince Hector drugged you. You've been asleep for the entire day. It's now evening and the sun will set soon," Maira said softly, bringing a cold rag and placing it on her friend's forehead.
Andromache sighed as the cool cloth touched her face. "He drugged me?" she asked, slightly annoyed.
"You were hysterical. I was worried you would throw yourself from the ship," Maira said. "Prince Hector was trying to calm you but you wouldn't listen to him."
Andromache sighed, annoyed at herself for showing weakness to her future husband. "I feel sick."
"It's the result of the drug. Prince Hector said it would wear off quicker if you were to walk around. Would you like me to bring you something to eat? You haven't eaten all day."
"Well, Prince Hector can try being drugged himself and see how he likes it. And do not ever mention food to me again," Andromache snapped.
Maira smiled, not saying anything. She'd been drugged once- when she'd been taken captive- and it was not a pleasant experience. She waited for Andromache to speak.
A few minutes later, Andromache had made up her mind. "Help me up, I'm going to go on deck. Perhaps a cool breeze will help ease my sickness."
The two women made their way up on deck and Andromache winced as the light stung her eyes. She stood blinking for a few moments, then allowed herself to led to the front of the boat where she gratefully leaned against the railing, closing her eyes and letting the wind tease her hair.
"Andromache, look," Maira said softly. Andromache opened her eyes and gasped. They were sailing west and the setting sun was directly in front of them, painting the sky and casting a golden light on the water. Maira heard a slight cough behind them and turned around, Hector smiled at her and she nodded, respecting his wishes. She slipped away without attracting the notice of Andromache, who was still watching the sunset. Hector eased up next to her, but Andromache still didn't seem to notice.
"It's moment like these where one can understand Phaethon's foolish desire to drive Apollo's chariot," Andromache said softly.
"One can indeed," Hector replied, inwardly smiling when Andromache jumped.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were Maira," she stammered, starting to leave.
He stopped her. "Please, don't go because of me. The gods forbid I deprive you of the enjoyment of watching the sunset."
She inclined her head, turning back to gaze at the sun. He took advantage of the silence to study her closely for the first time. The combs she'd worn that morning were missing from her hair, and it was falling down loosely. The orange light from the setting sun was casting a reddish tint on her hair, making it glow beautifully. The breeze teased it back from her face, making it flitter back and forth, and Hector was captivated. He thought she'd never looked lovelier.
As though suddenly aware of his scrutiny, she blushed and cleared her throat. "I want to apologize for my behavior earlier, I should not have struck out at you."
He shrugged, and leaned on the railing to gaze at the sunset once more. "It was to be expected, you were grieving."
"Still, I had no cause to treat you like that. I lost my composure in front of your men, as well."
A slight smile flitted across Hector's face. "It was expected, I was warned by my father that that is a normal reaction when a man takes his betrothed away from her family. He told me my mother acted the same."
"Is that why you had the drugged wine onboard?"
"It is indeed, for that purpose and no other," Hector teased.
"Well, my lord, I should inform you that the aftereffects of the drug are quite unpleasant and will usually render the victim fairly upset at the attacker," she retorted quickly.
Hector glanced at her appreciatively, then noticed the bruises on her wrists. "Did I hurt you?" he asked concerned, gesturing to her wrists.
She glanced down, startled, noticing the marks for the first time. "No, I hadn't even noticed them."
Hector nodded. "Are the effects of the drug gone now?"
"The dizziness is, I'm just feeling a little weak but no matter."
"Perhaps it is from lack of food. You haven't eaten all day." He called to a man to bring food and drink, then led her to a small table nearby.
She sat down but shook her head, "No thank you, my lord, I am not well enough to eat."
He passed her a platter of fruit. "I assure you, you will feel better once you have done so, however."
She shook her head, and he decided against pressing her further, not wishing to disrupt the tentative moment they were having.
He started eating and she absently picked at some grapes, peeling off the skin then popping it in her mouth. He stopped eating to watch her, and she stopped when she noticed he was watching her.
"Do you always skin your grapes before eating them?" he asked, amused.
She smiled, "It's been a habit ever since I was little. I never ate the skin and I still don't."
"You remind me of my brother. He's a picky eater also."
"I'm not a picky eater," she said indignantly. "I just have my methods and I don't like skin."
Hector continued eating, "Do you have any other dislikes I should know about-" he paused, "-besides snakes in your bed?"
Andromache laughed, then got a faraway look in her eyes. "He was always doing things like that," she remembered. "One time he put a frog in my perfume bottle, and when I opened it the frog jumped out and hopped around the citadel. The entire palace smelled like my perfume for the entire day."
Hector laughed. "I have a brother like that too. He stole my father's horse once."
"Was he caught?" Andromache inquired.
"The horse threw him and ran off into the hills. Took me the entire afternoon to find it, but Father never found out." Hector turned his attention back to her. "But he would be the kind of person to put a snake in your bed, so just tell me if he does and I'll take him to task."
"Euklides got a beating from Arimedes for that snake," Andromache said. "But I got my revenge later on. He was seeing a girl at the time, a temple maiden I believe, and he bought her a bottle of perfume. I switched it with wine and he had dabbed some onto her before either of them realized it wasn't perfume. She smelled as though she'd been drunk and told Euklides she hated him and never wanted to see him again. I never got in trouble for that, because Euklides couldn't tattle without revealing his own sin."
"Do you always get your revenge?"
"Always," Andromache answered positively. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Well, then I hope I never have the misfortune of incurring your wrath," Hector teased her.
Andromache turned serious. "All wives are displeased with their husbands at some point. But you need have no worries, my lord. I know what is expected of me and I shall make you a good wife." She looked down, studying her hands.
"Andromache," Hector paused, waiting for her to look up at him. She didn't. "Andromache, look at me." She raised her head and he continued. "I know that this marriage wasn't what you hoped for, and I realize that there are certain feelings which are lacking in this union. But I promise you, I will remain faithful to you when we are married. I have many faults, but unfaithfulness is not one of them. You will not have cause to regret our union, that I promise."
A spark lit in her eyes. "I am not so naïve as that, my lord. I know what political marriages are like and I am aware of what is considered acceptable behavior. You are the leader of a great army, it is expected of you to take women. I shall provide you with an heir but I know that oftentimes you will travel. Forgive my blunt speaking, but I am not so gullible as to believe that you will not have mistresses. And if you assume that because I am a well-bred woman I am unaware of how things really stand, you will be mistaken. Every woman I know is aware of it, we just pretend not to be for the sake of etiquette. We may pretend to be uneducated, but we are not so ignorant. So do not insult me so, my lord. I neither expect faithfulness nor do I wish to pretend it exists."
Hector grew angry. "I am well aware of what is considered acceptable, my lady," he said coldly. "However, I have just given you my word, and whatever low opinion you have of men you will not insult my promises by such a dismissal. I repeat again, I give you my word you will not have cause to regret our union, and do not demean me by contradicting me again."
There was silence between them as Andromache glared at him, Hector matching her gaze. She stood up slowly. "It has grown late, my lord. I shall retire below deck," she said, her voice icy. He nodded dismissal and she went below, fuming the whole while. Maira approached her cautiously.
"You are angry?" she asked tentatively, waiting for the flood to be released.
"He insulted me!" Andromache shrieked. Maira gestured warningly to the deck above them, and Andromache dropped the level of her voice. "He actually hoped to win my heart by pledging faithfulness, as if I was unaware of what men do when their wives are not around," she whispered furiously.
"Perhaps he thought you were ignorant of such matters," Maira said softly, keeping a wary ear out for anyone approaching. "Men generally do think their wives are unaware of those things."
"Well, I informed him that it was not true and we were all perfectly aware of their pastimes. He still continued to lie, however, and then grew angry at me when I confronted him for it!" she hissed. "I do not expect him to remain faithful- what man does? But I do not want to pretend that something exists when it doesn't, that is one thing I will not do."
Maira shrugged, "Well, I'm sure that's the first time he'd heard that we are aware of their escapades. He was no doubt taken by surprise."
"I am marrying a man I barely know and one of the first things I find out about him is that he is a liar. My father couldn't have picked a better husband," she said bitterly.
"Andromache, your father is a wise man. He wouldn't have picked a man that would make you unhappy."
"I am marrying Prince Hector because we need the alliance with Troy. Our army is weak, because of our union we will be able to call upon them for aid if we are attacked. That is the main reason. And while my father would never marry me to an ogre- no matter the benefits- I told you, a man acts differently to his wife than he does to others."
"How do you know? You've never been married."
"I just know," Andromache exclaimed angrily. "A husband and wife share everything, therefore they see each others deepest and greatest faults. They cannot help but act differently to each other than they do to others, because they know the other so well." Andromache abruptly changed the conversation. "How long is the voyage?"
"I don't know, I've never traveled from Thebe to Troy before," Maira said dryly.
"Inquire it of Prince Hector, then," Andromache said angrily. "I wish to know how long I'll be stuck with him."
"Considering you're to be married, I believe you'll be stuck together for quite some time, but I'll ask." Maira left then returned a few moments later. "He informed me with good sailing, three weeks."
"I will die of boredom," Andromache told her. "And since I have nothing better to do, I'm going to bed." She declined Maira's services and prepared herself, then threw herself on her pile of rugs. Maira lay down in the corner, quickly falling asleep. But Andromache lay there for hours, wishing for sleep to come and take her away from her memories.
They flitted across her eyes, her mother singing to her when she was a little girl, Arimedes teaching her how to ride a horse. Her father, when he presented her at her first banquet; Euklides and the anger on his face after she'd switched the perfume bottle with wine. She bit her lip to keep from crying and cursed the gods for the fair weather, wishing for a storm to come and drown her. Sometime- hours later- she finally fell asleep, but would not remain in slumber for long.