Disclaimer: Blah blah blah. The quote is by Trisha Yearwood (I found it on some website) which seems like it's said from Andromaches' or Briseis' PoV.

Ahhh! Okay, I'm going to Hawaii after… a while (yeah, I haven't asked my parents when) and I'm going to try to finish this story before I leave. Sorry for taking so long for this chapter (I tried to make this work out smoothly and this is also the chapter where Hector dies, so I kept on crying). Please read the note at the end of this story. Thanks.

Reviews REVIEW: 0-0 So many!!! Keep 'em comin!!!

Chapter Subjects: Briseis, Achilles, Paris, Helen, Andromache and Hector.

Language Note: This starts off with Briseis' opinion where Achilles gets ready for his duel thingy w/Hector. (WAHHHH!!!!!) Then it's Paris', Helen's and Andromache's thoughts. And a little bit of Hector. (NOOO!!!!!)

Announcements: Please REVIEW and read the NOTE at the end of this chapter.

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A Final Sonnet

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"If I had known the way that this would end,

if I'd have read the last page first;

if I'd have had the strength to walk away,

if I had known how this would hurt,

I would have loved you anyway.

I'd do it all the same;

not a second I would change,

not a touch that I would trade,

had I known my heart would break,

I'd have loved you anyway."

"I'd Have Loved You Anyway"-Trisha Yearwood

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He got up before the sun woke. Before the gulls woke. Before any Achaean woke, I am sure. But I was awake. I hadn't been able to get any sleep. And I don't think that he got any sleep, either.

No! I wanted to scream. Don't go, Achilles! Please, don't go… But what could I do? I was his slave.

I had never thought of it that way, before now. After all, he'd never treated me like slave. Now, he just… ignored me. Or perhaps he wasn't ignoring me. Maybe he just didn't see me. That's what it felt like. It was almost as if he was in his own little world, and the only other person who existed was Hector. I wanted to shake him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to notice me. To realise that I was there and to tell him of that promise he had given me.

I had never met Patroclus. But from what I heard, he was a great man. Or a boy, in most warrior's opinions. He was too young to die.

Achilles had told him not to fight. But he hadn't listened. And so he died. It was said that Achilles loved Patroclus more than anything, more than his mother, Thetis and his father Peleus, whom he honoured and respected above all others. Achilles had trained Patroclus himself. He had kept him from joining in on the battle on the shore.

As I looked over, I saw him dressing in that holy armour of his. A heavy, thick breastplate of beautiful bronze and bronze greaves with silver ankle-clasps. Sword of bronze, slung over one shoulder. Shield of bronze, slung over the other. His helmet, bronze also, went on last. The dark plumed crest and nose-piece frightened me. I could already see blood streaked across his fair face.

He picked up his spear of Pelian ash. He left the tent, that golden son of Peleus, the man spoken of by Nestor as; "One who was born to take lives." He didn't look at me.

So he strode forth to smite the Trojans. It was then that I came to my senses. My limbs moved and I pulled on a tunic and rushed out after him.

I saw Eurydonus move forward to take the reins, for it was his duty as Achilles' charioteer. He stepped down when he was met by a glare and a slight shake of the head.

I ran to my lover, grasping one mighty forearm, shouting, "No! Achilles, Hector is a good man, he-"

I stopped when he shook me off. He wasn't going to listen to anyone. I watched his chariot run over the sand, that horsehair crest bobbing up and down. I kept myself composed on the outside. Inside, I was screaming. Weeping. Fearing. NO!

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My brother. A husband. Father. Leader. He was the hope for Troy. And he was going to die. Because of me. He had warned me, he had tried to send Helen back. Is this the price for love?

Troy was doomed. Because of me. Andromache would become some concubine to a sweaty, Greek commander. Because of me. I would die and Helen… probably given to Achilles. Or Agamemnon. Because of me. I didn't know which one was worse. And Astyanax, that innocent little child, with so much ahead of him, who should have so many more winters, would die also. Because of me.

Everything, because of me. Because I stole Helen away from the halls of Sparta. For love, a nation would burn to the ground. For love, thousands of innocents would die. All because of me.

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He had never scorned me. Shunned me. Never blamed me for anything.

Noble brother, why do the Gods curse us so? I do not know. I don't think that I ever will.

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His voice echoed along the walls. I could feel everyone in Troy flinch each time he cried out Hector's name. That man-killer.

"HECTOR!" His voice rang out along the walls. Punched at the walls. Cut at them. Tore me apart. I could see Troy burning. Flames, rising. Darkness, descending.

All of a sudden, when Hector's warm arms came around me, I felt numb. This cannot be happening.

"I love you, Andromache," he whispered, kissing me. I wanted that kiss to last forever.

He turned around and stepped out of the gates. I rushed up the tower to the walls to watch. I don't want to watch. But I must. I must be brave. Be brave, daughter of Eetion.

"I thought that it was you I was fighting yesterday." Hector! His voice was confident, regretful. "I wish it had been you."

"You won't have eyes tonight, you won't have ears or a tongue." His voice was hard, grating. Full of hatred. Hector! "You will wander the underworld blind, deaf and dumb. And all the dead will know, 'This is Hector, the fool who thought he killed Achilles.'"

The man has no shame!

"I will make you a deal. The man who loses will be given back to his people for a proper burial-" Hector was cut off short by Achilles' angry reply.

"There are no pacts between men and lions," he snarled.

And so it began. They lunged. They danced a dance of death. I lost track of their movements. They seemed like the Furies. Achilles seemed like a Fury. Hector… desperately trying to hold on.

He staggered a little, inches away from death. Achilles only seemed to grow more powerful with every thrust and block and fient. He took off his helmet and threw it to the side.

"Now you know who you are fighting!"

My beloved husband's luck was spent. He tripped over a rock and fell, gashing his foot. I cried out in fear. I could hear him groan.

"Get up, prince of Troy! I won't let a stone rob me of my glory!"

Is that what you kill for?

Hector stumbled again, weak from pain and loss of blood. Achilles' spear went through his shoulder. I couldn't watch anymore. I hid and cried, burying my face in my arms. I shut down all of my notice of what was happening around me. I sank into my own world.

One of the servant women told me what happened later. Hector had been panting, and looked up to Achilles, who had drawn his sword. He ran Hector through.

For all of my efforts to cut off contact with the world around me, I still heard him fall. I cried out.

Behind me,

the women started

keening.

A final

sonnet. Then,

nothing. Just silence.

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Even as I fought, there was a wrenching pain in my heart. Andromache… I love you. I love you. And Astyanax. And Troy. I love you all. Don't forget me.

A tearing pain. A blinding, flashing light, the sun streaming off of a breastplate worthy of the gods, made by the gods. Then…

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So, what do you think??? REVIEW!!!

NOTE: I think that there is going to be only two more chapters. And there's not really going to be a sequel, I'm probably just going to have a one-chapter fic that kinda has their thoughts. It's gonna be called The Silence After.