Thanks very much for the wonderful reviews, and I'm trying to use the critiques as well, so thank you for those, too. They help alot. Special thanks to Poppy2- whether you meant to or not, you gave my muses a shot of caffeine and jump started this chapter.
Notes: First off, the name of this chapter comes from a line in The Lord of the Rings: The Return of The King, so if you think it seems familiar, that's why. Second, in this chapter, there will be two flashbacks, so both thought and flashbacks will be represented by italics. It sounds sort of confusing, I know, but the flashback is clearly marked and you'll be able to understand it.Finally, later in this chapter I mention Priam's age as being a little bit less than he's portrayed in the movie, but that's because life expectancy in those days wasn't very high, so a seventy-five or eighty year old Priam is a bit unrealistic, at least in my opinion.
- - - - - -
Briseis had once told me that the more you try to hold on to something, the faster it fades away. I have never understood that theory better than the weeks following Helen's arrival in Troy, before the Greeks boats could be seen on the horizon. I desperately tried to cling to the Troy I knew, the Troy I loved, to enjoy the last days of my childhood to the full extent. But I realized that it was too late- Troy had moved on without my consent or knowledge. Paris wasn't speaking to me. Briseis spent nearly all her time in the temple. Andromache was with Astyanax. Priam was constantly being badgered and bothered by his many advisors, priests and warriors, all of whom had a completely different opinion of the situation. Hector was training the army. And I? I was completely alone; attempting to fight the chilling realization that my childhood was over and nothing could ever be the same.
The voices were impossible to ignore now- drilling themselves into my head no matter how hard I tried to avoid them.
"-A thousand ships headed for Troy-"
"- All of Greece coming for her, who would've that that just one woman-"
"-They say he's better than Hector, even, the greatest warrior in the world-"
"-And part god, to boot! Thetis' son…-"
"-Coming to Troy-"
I could only find quiet and peace on the outer corners of the wall, overlooking Troy's spectacular hills. I waited until the training would end for the day, then sit and watch the sunset, sometimes staying until everyone of the stars was illuminated in a velvet blue sky. I would sit, gazing out on the hills, valleys and rivers, love swelling in my heart as the breeze blew my hair across my face, and relive some of my favorite memories…
- - - - - -
"You're going to have to learn, eventually." Said Hector, crossly, staring at me with his hands on hips.
I shook my head. I did not want or need to learn to ride a horse, and we both knew it.
Paris smirked at me from a top his own horse. "You're afraid."
I shook my head fiercely, glaring at him. "I'm not afraid. Its just-" I struggled to find an excuse as to why I couldn't ride. I remembered something Briseis had told me. It would be a stretch, but I could use it to my advantage. "Horses are like the gods- they're to be feared and respected. I don't think Apollo would like it very much if we rode HIM, do you?"
Paris laughed out loud and Hector tried to conceal a snort.
"What are you laughing at?" I demanded- to an eight-year-old, the logic I had just presented was not only sound, it was completely brilliant.
Hector moved closer to me and I flinched. It was a nasty habit that had developed from years of being beaten by my father.
"Horses are different than gods, Charis. You should respect a horse, but you should never fear it." He said gently. "The horse needs to trust you, and it can't trust you with fear in your heart. It makes him nervous- he'll throw you if you're afraid."
"That's very encouraging." I said, my voice a cross between sarcasm and terror.
Hector frowned slightly at me. He was barely six inches away from me now. "Don't you trust me?"
"They call him the tamer of horses, you know." Paris said playfully. "If you're going to learn from anyone, learning from him is probably the best way to go."
I looked from Hector to Paris and back again. "Alright." I submitted. "But do you promise you won't let me fall?"
Hector swiftly lifted me onto the waiting horse. "I promise." He went to the horse's head, patted it once, and I gasped in surprise as the horse started moving.
I shut my eyes fearfully as the horse's bulk moved beneath me. He was so big, and I so small- surely he would realize the power he had over me and throw me from his back.
"Charis, open your eyes!" Hector yelled to me. Cautiously, I opened one eye and looked around. Though I was moving, I was not alone. Hector, who must have mounted after helping me on, was on my right, Paris on my left. Locked between the two, I felt considerably safer. I opened both eyes and looked to Hector for instruction.
"That's it." He said. "Just use what I taught you off the horse." I obeyed and pressed my heels into the horse's sides, showing him that I was in control and urging him to move faster. I half expected the horse to laugh, or at least snort in my face, and was surprised to find he listened to me. We rode for about an hour, talking and laughing. Every now and then Hector would point out something I was doing wrong, or a better way to do something. When the conversation hit a lull, Paris turned to me.
"It's not that hard, is it?" Paris teased, grinning at me. I readjusted my grip on the reins and glared at him.
"Don't mock her, Paris. I seem to remember a certain brother of mine who wasn't always so easy with horses, himself." Joked Hector.
Paris rolled his eyes. "We can't all be Hector, Tamer of Horses, first prince of Troy."
"Luckily we can't all be Paris, Tamer of Women and second prince of Troy, either." I muttered under my breath, still focusing on the horse beneath me. Hector laughed out loud.
"WHAT?" said Paris, angrily. I shrugged my shoulders and tried to muster the most innocent look I possessed, while simultaneously attempting to control my horse and my laughter. To my surprise, Paris shifted his horse in front of mine and I nearly fell off. He cackled.
"PARIS!" Hector roared, furious as he dismounted and helped me from my horse. "You could have killed her!"
Paris surveyed me with a mixture of regret and shame. I looked at the ground, completely stunned and shaking all over. I had known he was a bit egotistical, but I never thought he would harm me over a little joke.
"I'm sorry, Charis." He said in a quiet voice. "I don't always… Sometimes I don't think… I wouldn't ever… I wouldn't ever deliberately…" His eyes sought mine as he tried to find the words to apologize. "That is to say… it's not like I don't care… because I do…"
- - - - -
I sighed as my memory faded- I couldn't remember the rest of that day, or the rest of my conversation with Paris. My eyes swept the hills of Troy, looking for something that would trigger another memory in me. I have always turned to memories when no one else could comfort me. Each memory is like a well-worn cloak – warm, comforting. I could slip into them and let my mind float away from the bitter pain of reality when it had become too much to bear.
I gazed out in the direction of where Hector's quarters were in the palace, thinking of Andromache. She had always been so kind to me. She showed me how to use a loom and taught me how to heal certain wounds. Without her, I would have been a very perplexed maiden, without any knowledge of my duties or my future duties, if I ever married.
She was the fifth person I met when coming to the castle, after Hector, Paris, Priam and Hecuba. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the cool stone of the wall, thinking about it…
- - - - - -
"HECTOR! Where have you been? I've been waiting for you! You were supposed to be back an-" The woman stopped mid-sentence. I knew, only from the fact that the man I was standing behind was Prince Hector, she must be Princess Andromache. Her dark hair and dark eyes- similar, yet different from that of the people of Troy- gave her a strange beauty that was hard to describe and often admired. She stared at me, eyes wide, and I moved farther behind Hector.
"Hector…" She said, her voice trailing off. "Who… who is she?"
Hector went towards her and pulled her to the side, speaking to her in a hushed voice and leaving me exposed in the hallway. I fidgeted nervously, watching them talk. Every now and then Andromache would look from Hector to me with an incredulous expression. I knew they must have been talking about me, though I couldn't hear what they were saying. At one point during the conversation, Andromache gasped loudly and looked toward me with a startled look in her eyes.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of talking (but could really only have been a few minutes) the two began walking back to me again. I instinctively gravitated toward Hector, placing my body behind his and hiding from his wife. He laughed.
"She's a bit shy."
Andromache smiled warmly at me. It seemed everyone had a warm smile in this house- Hector, Paris, the king and queen who I'd just been to visit, and now this woman.
"Hello." Her voice was warm, too, I noticed. "What's your name?"
I knew she already knew what my name was, but I decided to humor her. "Charis." I whispered.
"Well, Charis, it's nice to meet you. I'm Andromache." There was that smile again. Did she ever stop smiling? "How old are you Charis?"
"Five." I said, peeking my head out from behind Hector, curious as the where this line of questioning was going.
"Five?" She said, surprised. "My, you're already quite old, aren't you? Almost an adult!"
I giggled softly and moved a few inches towards the left, so she could see me. "No. I'm just a child."
She shook her head violently. "No, you're almost an adult, I'm sure! After all, I'm only four!"
"Are not." I accused, sliding a few more inches to the left. Only a short portion of my right side was still concealed by Hector.
She put her hands on her hips, pretending to be offended. "How old am I, then?"
I thought a minute, looking at her as if to decide. "At least ten." I finally said.
Hector laughed, and I jumped. I had forgotten he was there. "How old is she, then?" I asked him, looking up in his direction.
"A bit older than ten." he said, grinning.
I nodded and turned back to Andromache. "And how old is he?" I said, gesturing toward Hector. I liked this game.
She looked at him seriously. "Fifty, I think." She tilted her head to the side, thinking. "Maybe older."
I laughed. "Maybe one hundred!"
She laughed, too. "He must be a hundred!"
Hector threw his hands up in the air, as if admitting defeat. "Alright, I'm one hundred and one."
I shuffled over the last few inches, completely exposed and out of Hector's shadow.
"How old are you really?" I said, looking at Andromache.
"Eighteen." She said, bending down slightly so she was on my eye level. "And Hector is twenty-two."
My eyes grew wide. "That's old!"
She laughed again, and I decided I liked her. "Did you meet Priam? He's fifty-three!"
- - - - - -
I chuckled to myself at the memory. That was the first time I could remember- possibly the first time at all- that I had laughed. Even now, at 17, it was one of my most cherished memories.
The sun was setting, painting brilliant shades of pinks and purples in the sky. I lifted my head and looked at the sky. A glint of gold would play across my face every now and then, and I turned to see what it was. The Statue of Apollo outside the temple was giving off a glare, an effect of the sun hitting its golden surface. Briseis was probably there right now- she had been praying or helping in services at the temple almost non-stop since Helen's arrival.
Typical Briseis. I thought wryly. The Gods can solve anything, in her mind. I was slightly more skeptical about the higher beings. I did not doubt the Gods existence- but I did doubt their ability to take any mortal problem and blow it all away. Our difference in opinion resulted in hundreds of debates between Briseis and I. She would tell me countless stories of the Gods and their powers, attempting to sway my view, and would become exasperated on discovering it had not budged an inch. You ought to respect the Gods more, Charis. She had angrily yelled at me during one conversation. I cannot save you from Apollo's wrath if you evoke it, no matter how much I love you.
I shook my head. Have I evoked it, Briseis? I wondered, staring out at Troy again, taking in its calm beauty. Have I forced Apollo to punish me? The thought that the impending war could have been caused by my own doing made me nauseous. Did I do something so horrible that I deserved this- Troy deserved this? My home… Is this the last time I will see it so peaceful, so calm?
I knew, somewhere deep inside me, the answer, but did not have the heart to voice it out loud. I looked out at Troy again, the sky a pale blue as light faded, the hills half bathed in shadow and wind whipping across the plain. Shutting my eyes, I locked the image in my mind, willing myself to never forget it, no matter how longed I lived.
I had thought Troy would last for my entire life, forever even. That night I knew.
Nothing can last forever- not even a city with mighty walls, a noble King, and the tamer of horses to protect it.