Thanks to those who reviewed it gives me the kick up the butt I need to continue, so thanks Poppy2, DallysGirl4Life and Tina. Also I don't own the song. And for Tinker bell, sorry you're not into the pairing but take a step back and realise this is fictional.
Achilles cool blue eyes never moved as he took slow steps away from her. He knew if he stayed too long, he would be caught and killed. He was not about to die for her, his mother was wrong. He would live. The cold granite floor crunched beneath his feet and her heavy breathing carried on the wind to his ears.
The sound held him still, until the patrolling guard made his way to the door. He put his head around the door, his heavy armour clunking so loudly Andromache woke. Startled she sat up right and went for her dagger she had hidden under her pillow, it's handle was golden, laced with the bones of Troy's enemies, it was an ugly thing to Andromache but Hector had kept it by their bed at night and it was more comforting to her than ever.
'I am sorry Princess for waking you...I was just patrolling,' the guard bumbled and Andromache gave a reassuring smile.
'Thank you, you may leave now,' Andromache said placing the dagger beside her and waiting for the guard to leave.
When he saw her waiting the guard made haste and was gone, down the hall and across the courtyard. Andromache lay down again and took in deep breaths, each one hurt without Hector. Her cheek felt warm and there was a presence in the shadows. She pulled herself up once more, this time slowly, her eyes didn't fight the tears of joy she felt when she thought she saw her husband there. She wasn't a foolish woman but she was full of hope and prayed to the gods every chance she got. Could it be that they sent him back to her?
Her lips trembled and her legs felt weak as she stepped forward and said, 'Hector?'
Achilles didn't wish to step forward, the game would be up and she'd know him, she'd blame him of course. Achilles let his head hang low as he stepped forward, he had to. Andromache was a touch away from him; the shadow separating them was a cruelty to Andromache but a blessing to Achilles. In that moment Andromache's eyes turned from relief to pure hatred. Her features hardened in readiness for a fight, she took quick steps backing away from him, Achilles slowly followed her, his arms hanging heavy, he did not want her dead, far from it. When she finally turned her back and picked up the dagger Achilles was directly behind her. Turning around she was shocked but that didn't stop her from lunging the dagger at him. Achilles took her wrist and twisted the knife out slowly as she cried into his chest. Between the 'I hate you' s and her bashing her fists against his chest he put her down onto her bed and stepped away.
Andromache's tears flowed like a river from her heart, she just didn't want it to be real, in public her grief was shown by a brave face and stony expression but in the privacy that was her room she would never stop crying.
'What do you want Achilles, to finish off my family? What does killing my family have to do with your war?' Andromache's words were dripping with distain and hatred, almost mocking him. Her words were insincere and she wanted him to suffer, she wiped her face and braced herself for the reply.
'It is not my war,' Achilles said matter of factly.
'Why are you here?' Andromache didn't want to play word games.
'I came here to see Briseis,' Achilles took the rule of telling the truth but leaving out certain facts.
'No warrior, why are you here in my chamber?' her face was full of hate for him, but her hate did not take over her common sense. He was too strong for her and if she screamed he would kill her, then who would take care of her son?
Achilles looked at the ground, 'I thought you were Briseis, I had to see her'.
'You care for her?' Andromache was getting ready to make her point.
'Yes, she made sense to me, I had to get her out of here,' he said moving to the side of her and the bed.
'Does she feel the same for you?' Andromache had decided not to look at him, because he was looking at her strangely, as if he were ready to reveal something.
'I think so, otherwise I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't force myself on any woman,' Achilles wanted her to know that and so much more. He wanted her to know him.
'That is not what I have heard of you,' Andromache held her emotionless pose and demeanour.
Andromache heard the tone of her voice and realised how she had aged since Hector had died. Her once obedient, politeness had turned bitter and she thought there was no way to go back to who she was ever again, this man before her had changed her forever. The Great Achilles, she thought, the son of a goddess, indestructible, not as I can see. He still hides; he's just another soldier, just a man, and a murderer. Yet if she looked too long at his eyes Andromache found herself softening to him, even forgiving him, which she could not do. Ever.
Nothing unusual, nothing's changed
Just a little older that's all
You know when you've found it,
There's something I've learned
'Cause you feel it when they take it away
Something unusual, something strange
Comes from nothing at all
But I'm not a miracle
And you're not a saint
Just another soldier
On the road to nowhere
Amie come sit on my wall
And read me the story of O
And tell it like you still believe
That the end of the century
Brings a change for you and me
Achilles slumped onto the bed, his feet heavy on the floor, his back to Andromache and his head hung low, she made him feel ashamed but he knew he had to kill Hector. Andromache's statue like stance changed when she saw his back to her. She slowly reached for the dagger, she was confused whether to strike or to touch his back, forgive him, which would Hector want? This self-pitying warlord was exposing himself to her and all she could do was decide whether to touch or to strike. She lifted it high in the cool night air and threw it down with such a force of hatred the gods would have shivered. Andromache had changed her mind, but her body was already carrying out the action. The golden, bone-laced dagger sliced through the air towards Achilles...
Achilles cool blue eyes never moved as he took slow steps away from her. He knew if he stayed too long, he would be caught and killed. He was not about to die for her, his mother was wrong. He would live. The cold granite floor crunched beneath his feet and her heavy breathing carried on the wind to his ears.
The sound held him still, until the patrolling guard made his way to the door. He put his head around the door, his heavy armour clunking so loudly Andromache woke. Startled she sat up right and went for her dagger she had hidden under her pillow, it's handle was golden, laced with the bones of Troy's enemies, it was an ugly thing to Andromache but Hector had kept it by their bed at night and it was more comforting to her than ever.
'I am sorry Princess for waking you...I was just patrolling,' the guard bumbled and Andromache gave a reassuring smile.
'Thank you, you may leave now,' Andromache said placing the dagger beside her and waiting for the guard to leave.
When he saw her waiting the guard made haste and was gone, down the hall and across the courtyard. Andromache lay down again and took in deep breaths, each one hurt without Hector. Her cheek felt warm and there was a presence in the shadows. She pulled herself up once more, this time slowly, her eyes didn't fight the tears of joy she felt when she thought she saw her husband there. She wasn't a foolish woman but she was full of hope and prayed to the gods every chance she got. Could it be that they sent him back to her?
Her lips trembled and her legs felt weak as she stepped forward and said, 'Hector?'
Achilles didn't wish to step forward, the game would be up and she'd know him, she'd blame him of course. Achilles let his head hang low as he stepped forward, he had to. Andromache was a touch away from him; the shadow separating them was a cruelty to Andromache but a blessing to Achilles. In that moment Andromache's eyes turned from relief to pure hatred. Her features hardened in readiness for a fight, she took quick steps backing away from him, Achilles slowly followed her, his arms hanging heavy, he did not want her dead, far from it. When she finally turned her back and picked up the dagger Achilles was directly behind her. Turning around she was shocked but that didn't stop her from lunging the dagger at him. Achilles took her wrist and twisted the knife out slowly as she cried into his chest. Between the 'I hate you' s and her bashing her fists against his chest he put her down onto her bed and stepped away.
Andromache's tears flowed like a river from her heart, she just didn't want it to be real, in public her grief was shown by a brave face and stony expression but in the privacy that was her room she would never stop crying.
'What do you want Achilles, to finish off my family? What does killing my family have to do with your war?' Andromache's words were dripping with distain and hatred, almost mocking him. Her words were insincere and she wanted him to suffer, she wiped her face and braced herself for the reply.
'It is not my war,' Achilles said matter of factly.
'Why are you here?' Andromache didn't want to play word games.
'I came here to see Briseis,' Achilles took the rule of telling the truth but leaving out certain facts.
'No warrior, why are you here in my chamber?' her face was full of hate for him, but her hate did not take over her common sense. He was too strong for her and if she screamed he would kill her, then who would take care of her son?
Achilles looked at the ground, 'I thought you were Briseis, I had to see her'.
'You care for her?' Andromache was getting ready to make her point.
'Yes, she made sense to me, I had to get her out of here,' he said moving to the side of her and the bed.
'Does she feel the same for you?' Andromache had decided not to look at him, because he was looking at her strangely, as if he were ready to reveal something.
'I think so, otherwise I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't force myself on any woman,' Achilles wanted her to know that and so much more. He wanted her to know him.
'That is not what I have heard of you,' Andromache held her emotionless pose and demeanour.
Andromache heard the tone of her voice and realised how she had aged since Hector had died. Her once obedient, politeness had turned bitter and she thought there was no way to go back to who she was ever again, this man before her had changed her forever. The Great Achilles, she thought, the son of a goddess, indestructible, not as I can see. He still hides; he's just another soldier, just a man, and a murderer. Yet if she looked too long at his eyes Andromache found herself softening to him, even forgiving him, which she could not do. Ever.
Nothing unusual, nothing's changed
Just a little older that's all
You know when you've found it,
There's something I've learned
'Cause you feel it when they take it away
Something unusual, something strange
Comes from nothing at all
But I'm not a miracle
And you're not a saint
Just another soldier
On the road to nowhere
Amie come sit on my wall
And read me the story of O
And tell it like you still believe
That the end of the century
Brings a change for you and me
Achilles slumped onto the bed, his feet heavy on the floor, his back to Andromache and his head hung low, she made him feel ashamed but he knew he had to kill Hector. Andromache's statue like stance changed when she saw his back to her. She slowly reached for the dagger, she was confused whether to strike or to touch his back, forgive him, which would Hector want? This self-pitying warlord was exposing himself to her and all she could do was decide whether to touch or to strike. She lifted it high in the cool night air and threw it down with such a force of hatred the gods would have shivered. Andromache had changed her mind, but her body was already carrying out the action. The golden, bone-laced dagger sliced through the air towards Achilles...