Here's chapter 9, much earlier than anticipated. I wanted to get it out fast so that I could compose myself enough to write the last chapter.

Notes: this is the second to last chapter. We're almost at the end, folks. The last stable scene is in this chapter. This chapter is also sad, and contains more Achilles hate. This is mostly because of the fact that my character is a Trojan, and any Trojan, not including Briseis, in their right mind would hate him. Also, a reference to the Elysian fields is made in this chapter. For those of you who don't know, the Elysian field is the place in Greek Mythology where brave men/warriors went after death.

- - - - - -

After my argument with Hector, I did the only thing I could think of doing- I went to the wall. Hector and I had never fought before, and just the thought of it made me want to cry. I leaned against one of the tall posts, desperately trying to contain my tears, my knees pressed to my chest and my arms wrapped around them.

I spent the night at the wall, watching as morning came slowly, dreading each second the sky grew brighter. The quiet of the city was stifling- why didn't they understand? Didn't they see that Hector might die this day? Didn't they understand how lost Troy would be without him?

No. They never did. They never would, not until it was too late.

- - - - - -

The day dawned hot and stuffy, with not even the lightest of breezes. I had been up all night, but I had no desire to sleep. Even if I had wanted to sleep, I couldn't have. I stood, stretching, and surveyed the plains.

By mid-morning my heart was pounded so fast and so loudly I was sure it could be heard throughout all of Troy. Every second that passed was another Hector was safe, another Troy had a protector and a chance. Hope bubbled in my heart- would he leave Hector alone? Would he stay away from Troy?

My question was answered, but not by words, or gestures, or even a sign from the gods.

My question was answered in the form of pounding hooves and the appearance of a man with golden hair on the plain.

- - - - - -

The second Achilles appeared on the plain, everything seemed to move to fast. He was on the edge of the plain. Then he was halfway across. Then he was at the gates. He was out of the chariot. When did he do that? My mind was a jumble of nerves and confusion. I couldn't think straight. I took a deep breath.

He looked like a normal man. That is to say, nothing stood out about him, really. His hair was fair and his army glowed, but my mind didn't immediately scream that he was a monster. He didn't look like one.

He strode to the very edge of the wall, right near the gates.

"HECTOR!" he roared, his voice echoing over the plains. Wordlessly, Paris and Priam came to stand next to me. Both were pale and had bags under their eyes.

"HECTOR!" people were beginning to come to the wall to see the great Achilles and to cheer for their prince.

"HECTOR!" Hector was suddenly here, saying goodbye to his father, then Paris, then-

"I'm sorry, Hector, I'm so sorry." I whimpered, choking back tears.

"Shhh…" he whispered, just as he had done on the day we met. I smothered a sob that was caught in my throat. "Charis… you have to promise me you'll never lose the will to live, that you'll always live life to the fullest. It's too short." He kissed me on the head and fresh tears fell down my face. I nodded wordlessly.

He walked down the steps.

"HECTOR!" Andromache joined us on the wall, Astyanax in hand. Her eyes were red, and she was even paler than Priam and Paris. Shortly after her came Helen. They were all here, save Hecuba.

"HECTOR!" Achilles called one last time, and this time the gates opened. Hector strode out, sword at his side, helmet on his head, shield in hand. He was talking to Achilles, but I couldn't hear it, was too deep in the pain to hear anything.

The helmets were gone, and the muted clashing of swords began. They were both good, so good.

Hector is the best, Hector is the best, Hector is the best. I chanted over and over in my head, trying to convince myself. They continued to clash, occasionally getting in hits to one and another's armor, but no worse.

Hector tripped over a rock and I didn't breath for a moment, waiting for Achilles' sword to come down on him. Achilles screamed something at him. Hate coursed through my veins. Bastard! I thought. He's a good man. A good man!

Hector stood and they started again. Attack, block, block, block, attack, attack… on and on it went, almost never-ending. Attack, block, attack, block, block…

And suddenly, so suddenly I didn't see it happen, Achilles spear was plunged into Hector's heart.

Something deep, deep inside me died.

Hector began gasping for breath, and I didn't even notice I was crying until the tears flowed down my chin. I knew somewhere, somewhere that seemed so far away, a wail went up among the people of Troy, and Andromache fell to the floor. But all I could hear was his gasps, his final struggles for life, The quickened pace of his beating heart pounding in my ears.

Achilles looked at him with a malice I had never seen before, a malice that could consume everything in its path. Then he took his sword and shoved it in his chest.

A moan fought its way up my to my mouth, dying in my throat somewhere.

This can not be happening. This is all a horrible, horrible nightmare. Hector can not die. He is Troy's Hector. He is Priam and Hecuba's Hector. He is Paris and Briseis' Hector. He is Andromache and Astyanax's Hector. He is MY Hector. He can not die. He can not die. HE CAN NOT DIE.

On the plain, Hector took his last breath and fell to the ground.

I screamed, a cry of agony and heartache falling from my lips, a dull pain covering every inch of my body. I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, just cried out with the horrible injustice of the scene unfolding beneath me, the terrible agony that was now flooding my being, my soul.

My heart turned to ice as I watched, tears still streaming down my face, Achilles tie a loop around Hector's ankles, and then to his chariot.

He wouldn't… No… He couldn't…

But he did. He went to his chariot and took off, Hector trailing behind him.

I ran.

- - - - - -

I didn't plan to go anywhere, didn't try to run somewhere in particular. I ran, trying to erase the images now flooding my mind.

Hector protecting me from my father. Hector telling me he loved me. Hector joking with me. Hector introducing me to Andromache. Hector talking to me. Hector scolding Paris. Hector protecting Paris. Hector brushing his horse.

Hector smiling.

I collapsed, sobbing.

Hector would never smile at me again.

I tried to fight the tears and stand, taking in my surroundings as I went. It was then I realized I had run straight into the stables.

I fell to the floor again, sobbing harder.

A new wave of memories flooded my mind, causing my entire body to shake.

Hector facing Achilles. Hector fighting. Hector tripping. Hector struggling to stand. Hector lunging toward Achilles. Hector gasping with breath, blood flowing from his mouth and wounds. Hector being dragged behind Achilles' chariot.

The images burned themselves in my brain, refusing to leave, causing me so much agony I couldn't even open my eyes.

"You should've taken me!" I screamed. "He didn't deserve this! He could never deserve this!" My words faded off into the air as I began to cry again, my pain consuming me.

I could hardly hear the footsteps running into the stables, could barely feel the arms wrap themselves around me. Tears not my own fell on the back of my neck.

Paris and I cried together, for the brother we would never see again, for the most wonderful person either of us had ever known, who was now being paraded around the Greek camps like a trophy. We cried for the friend we had lost, for the goodness that could never be replaced, could never be redone. We cried knowing that there would never be another Hector, and there would never be another who came close.

Eventually we could cry no more. When all the tears were gone, when nothing more was left, we both stood. I couldn't be in the stable anymore. I knew I wouldn't ever go there again, not for anything in the world. It was Hector's place, his sanctuary.

I could hear Paris leaving, going in the opposite direction that I would leave.

"You have to promise me you'll never lose the will to live, that you'll always live life to the fullest. It's too short."

Hector was right- life was too short. If a person like him could die, someone filled with live and love and happiness, then anyone could.

I turned.

"Paris, wait."

He turned, staring at me, his face puffy and red, yet still as beautiful as ever.

"I love you." I said quietly. "I never…" I choked, fighting to say what I have to say as the tears threatened to come again. "I never told him that. I don't want to do that again."

Paris strode over to me, placing a lingering kiss on my forehead. "He knew, Charis. He always knew." Then he left. I went in the other direction, turning to go back to my room.

- - - - - - -

Thank you, Hector. Because of you, I am safe. Because of you, I lived. Because of you, I am a better person than I ever would have been. I learned more from you than anyone else, and I will never forget anything you taught me. I will never forget you. And I will always love you.

May your soul rest in the Elysian fields, forever in peace.