Thank you all for your reviews! Just to let you know, I'm drawing this story to a close so if there's anything you want covered in this story let me know. This is your final chance. Anyways, I'm thinking it will end by chapter 40, definitely no more. Maybe a little less, I'm not sure. Here's the next chapter, enjoy!

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"We've finished conducting sweeps of the entire area near Troy," Hector told his wife and cousin, walking out on the balcony to find them talking. It had been six months since Briseis' adventure. "There are no more bandits."

"But the priestess expeditions will still have guards?" Briseis asked.

Hector nodded.

"What I don't understand," Andromache broke in. "is why they attacked you in the first place. It was just as easy for them to have respectable jobs and marry well."

"Some men just need struggle constantly," Briseis shrugged. "They cannot lead a calm and normal life."

"There are no more to bother you," Hector said reassuringly. "The men have searched a hundred mile radius around Troy, well past any outposts we have."

Briseis nodded and stood up. "I'd best be taking my leave, goodnight." She kissed both of them on the cheek and quietly left, declining their offer to escort her.

"It infuriates me," Andromache said, narrowing her eyes. "To think that some men must do injure to others simply because they cannot abide calmness."

"I feel the same," Hector said, taking a seat across from her. "I don't know what's worse, to be the helpless victim or the helpless friend."

Andromache smiled, acknowledging his feelings. "I think both roles are to be loathed."

"Then let's not act in the play, shall we?" Hector said, reaching for her hand. She slipped it into his.

"Let's not," she agreed.

There was an amiable pause, then Hector spoke. "You're going to collect herbs tomorrow?"

Andromache nodded. "Will you escort me?"

"It would be a pleasure," Hector said, rising and pulling her up with him. "We rise early tomorrow?"

Andromache nodded. "We leave a little after dawn."

"Before it slips my mind, Niobe has a matter she'd like to discuss. Something about a fabric."

"For my dress," Andromache nodded, and quickly left the room to go over to Niobe's room where the matter was quickly resolved. She came back to find Hector was already ready for bed.

"I'll be just a minute," she said, sitting down at the vanity to take her hair out of its complex knot. "You can extinguish the torches in a moment."

"No matter," Hector said, coming over to her. His hands gently reached for hers and he brought them to her sides. "I'll do it." He gently and tenderly, although a bit awkwardly, began unclipping her hair, sending the long tendrils to rest loosely down her back. Some had been twisted into tiny braids and those he combed out with his fingers. Andromache watched him in the mirror as he worked, smiling at the concentrated look on his face.

"What is it you enjoy about my hair?" she asked curiously. "You've always had a fascination for it, ever since we've been married."

Hector shrugged, still working hard. "I don't know. I just enjoy toying with your hair."

Andromache shook her head but smiled, not understanding his enjoyment of it. After all, it's just hair. But then again, one man's trash was another man's treasure.

Hector soon finished and went to wait in bed as Andromache quickly changed out of her dress and into her nightgown.

"Goodnight, Hector."

"Goodnight, love."

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The following morning, the two of them set out early, Andromache wearing a light cloak to protect her from the early morning air. But still, she shivered. Hector noticed and smiled.

"It will warm up soon," he promised her.

For the next few hours, the two of them roamed the hillside, looking for rare plants and special herbs.

"Found it!" Hector called out as he spotted the white flowers his wife had told him to look for. "What else do we need?"

Andromache glanced down in her basket, which held all the necessary items but two. "We need the imalian flower and the root of the upisti plant."

Hector gave her a look as he set the newly acquired plant in her basket. "And how will I recognize that?"

"The imalian flower is a soft shade of pink, like the sky during the sunrise. The upisti plant is hard to recognize, I'll look for that one."

"What are these used for?" Hector called out to her as he began walking along the hill, eyes glued to the ground.

"The upisti plant's root will help headaches, and the imalian is what I use to make my perfume," she answered back, her voice echoing among the hills.

Hector smiled; he liked the smell of her perfume. Nearly an hour later, he sighed with relief as the flower was finally located. "Here it is!"

"Bring it down!" Andromache answered off, her voice way in the distance.

Hector obediently cut out the plant, making sure to pack its roots with dirt, and brought the entire thing to her. Andromache was walking at the bottom of the hill, eyes still peeled for the plant that was proving difficult. "Here," he said, setting it in her basket and taking it from her. "Still having trouble?"

"It's a difficult plant to find," Andromache admitted, her eyes still scanning the lush carpet of green that blanket the hills around them. "There are no distinguishing characteristics about it; one must recognize it by the shape of its leaves."

Hector nodded. "Well, since I'll be of no help I'm going to go set up our picnic at the top of the hill. Come up within a half hour."

She nodded, barely registering his words. He smiled and shook his head, but dutifully trod up the hill, his wife's basket still in tow. He'd just finished setting up their breakfast when he heard an elated shout come from the bottom of the hill. He smiled. "Bring it up and let me look at it!"

A few moments later Andromache came panting up to the top, grinning from ear to ear. In her hand she held the plant, dirt still clinging to its roots. He reached his hands for it and sliced off the roots, adding them to the herb basket and tossing the rest of the plant off to the side. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Andromache panted, still out of breath from her run up the hill. "I haven't been able to find one the past two times I've come herb-gathering."

"Then this makes the occasion even more special," he said, pouring her a glass of wine. He raised his glass in a toast. "To my lovely wife, who's beauty is not merely outward, but inward as well. May the gods grant her a long and happy life, preferably with me." Hector grinned at her.

She raised her glass up and smiled. "And to my wonderful husband, who has stolen my heart and made a lifetime slave of me, much to my soul's enjoyment. May the gods grant him safety in danger and victory over those who threaten him." They clinked glasses and spilled some wine on the ground, then brought the sweet liquid to their lips.

For the next few hours, they spent an enjoyable time on that top of that hill, watching the breeze blow the long grass, casting shadows that flew across it. The sun shown brightly and warmed them to the bone, darkening Hector's skin and bringing more freckles to Andromache's nose.

They were not touching, for the platters of food lay between them, but both of them realized how close they felt at this moment. Andromache smiled, gazing into Hector's eyes and he gazed back, captivated by her own brown orbs. Words were not spoken, nor was passion ignited, but their souls were united in a way that made their love for each other burn brighter than ever. Their inward connection was so obvious that had a shepherd chanced to pass them, he would have thought he beheld two immortals. For such was the look in their eyes, a look that new no boundaries nor time. It was just another day of their marriage, not marked by any special celebration, but it was the most passionate moment they ever shared together.

And remembering her friend's words, Andromache lovingly tucked this moment deep into the recesses of her memory, hidden among the many moments of her life she cherished most. And this one outshone them all.