Authors note, Ok, so this is the last chapter of this little short story. I wanted to do something small that I could wrap up. So I hope you liked it and all that good stuff.  Enjoy! (However I watched Troy yesterday and had to add a small bit to this, so sue me, (Please don't)

The small room that was Hectors in the ship was small, hot and stuffy, it smelled horrible but I didn't care in the least. We'd locked ourselves in for quite some time. It was wonderful, I had my husband back!

I lay beneath him, my sandy legs still wrapped around him, but not so tightly anymore. The both of us were covered in something wet, we were far wetter then when we were dressed. Armor and silk trailed along the floor from the door to the matt.

My hair was plastered to the both of us as if it were a second skin, Hector didn't seem to care. He was far too busy. I watched while he traced his fingers over my stomach, along my chest, even over my breasts. Which he seemed to enjoy the most.

When he caught me watching him he would kiss me, I slid my fingers into his wet hair and held him close to my heart. His beard that used to tickle before he left felt welcome, it felt like my husband, it proved to me he was here. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of his lips, beard, and especially his tongue.

Slowly he made his way up my chest to my lips.

My fingers traced over a scar on his arm, it drew my attention, I hadn't seen it before. My distraction caught his attention, "What is it?"

I kissed his lips, "You have a new scar."

Hector looked at his arm, to where I softly rubbed my thumb over the soft skin. It was pink, a new scar.

"Don't worry about it, love."

I looked at my husband with what may have been disbelief, then I patter his chest with my palms, "Sit up. I want to look you over." My husband made a face, "Andromache."

I continued to pat his chest, "Up!"

A growl came from deep within his broad chest but he listened, he sat up. But he didn't get off me. He sat on my thighs, which allowed me to sit up and look him over. Which I did, I inspected every last inch of my husband. From behind his ears to his toes. That appeared to be the only new scar from this time out.

From the very first time my husband came home, till ten years later in our marriage, I would inspect him when he came home. I would count the scars and welcome him home in the way a lover would. Though as time went on I no longer found the need to leap into his strong arms and maul him, I could wait till Priam had his way with my husband.

"You see Andromache, Hector and Paris are fine, the Greeks didn't kill them." Padme spat, for the entire time my husband and his brother had been gone I had worried. Not about Hector. But why in Apollo's name had Priam insisted Paris go along, the man was still nothing but trouble.

With my son in arm, I watched Priam lead Hector away, my husband waved and watched both of us with a longing eye. It'd been so long since he'd seen his son. "It was not all the Greeks I was worried about, Padme, just their king of kings."

"Oh well, that man is something else altogether. Who is that woman with Paris?"

I tore my gaze from my husband, across the crowded entrance to see Paris introducing the beautiful women to Briseis. There were few times I had seen a woman with hair as fair as her, she had to be the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

On my hip Scammandrius grew agitated, I began to gently bounce him, "Well let's go ask. Paris hasn't seen his nephew yet."

Padme smiled and followed me through the crowd, over to Paris who's smile grew at the sight of his nephew. He left the woman to talk with Briseis and came to Padme and I, "Is that the small child I left a few months ago?"

I nodded and smiled, I left Paris pick up my son, he kissed Scammandrius's forehead and made a cooing noise. I looked to the woman and asked him, "Who is she?"

With his attention fully on Scammandrius he answered, "That is Helen."

Helen? I had heard that name before, "Helen of Sparta?"

Beside me Padme's bronze skin paled to my own natural shade. She looked as if she would be ill. Paris nodded in response to my question. I scanned the crowd, "Where is her husband, Paris?"

The look he gave me told me all I needed to know. Padme looked to me with

eyes as round as grapes.

"Hector let you bring her here?" I asked my brother, unsure if I should take my child and leave Troy before her husband came, or if I should kill Paris. I had calmed down considerably since my youth. If I were still young I would have been screaming and hitting Paris by now.

Paris met my eyes and spoke, "I love her."

Padme grabbed my arm in a very painful grip, both of us had heard stories about the two kings of Greece, brothers in arms. The king of kings was a very dangerous man. If his brother asked he would join him and come to our shores for Helen. It was Greece where Padme had come, her earliest memories were of war and blood because of those men.

By the time Padme and I had gone back to my chambers, she was a mess. I lay Scammandrius in his crib while she paced back and forth across my bedroom. A ball of nerves, "How could Hector lat Paris bring her here! Does he not know who her husband is? That man will come for her!"

My son was asleep, I put a soft blanket over him and kissed his head. Then I walked over to Padme, "Calm down, I will ask Hector why she is here."

Padme grabbed me, "No! You don't understand! He Will Come For Her! He will come and likely bring his brother, who will bring an army bigger then the Gods! We are going to die! DIE! How do you think those men became rulers of Greece? I told you we should have argued with Priam, I told you Paris did not need to go to Greece! There is nothing in Greece but dirt and olive trees."

I looked over to my son, "Calm down, you'll wake Scammandrius."

"Oh, that is the least of your problems! Do you remember what Cassandra said before you know what happened to her? Do you remember?"

"I remember, Padme."

"What if that loon was right?"

I covered my eyes, the sound of Hector coming in our chambers relieved me. While I had no desire to listen to Padme rant about Cassandra's final words, I also knew we were in danger with that woman here. I was no King but I knew enough about her husband, he wouldn't let this go. "Padme please."

"Don't Padme please me! You have a son to worry about now, we need to leave. Why do you think my family left Greece for Thebe? We would be slaves no matter where we went but in Thebe it would be better. If she stays here we

will die!"

I nodded, but wasn't really listening.

Padme grabbed my hands and pulled them down, "Do you remember what the Greeks did to Thebe? They are all like that! They will come here and do that again, they do it to every single country they conquer. Do you want your son to grow up speaking Greek?"

The mere memory brought on a swell of emotions, but she was right.

Hector walked in bedroom, he looked between the two of us, "Padme get out."

Padme turned and began to shriek at him, "You let him bring that woman here! How could you! She will be the death of us all!"

The screams woke Scammandrius, I ran over to the crib and rocked it softly. The motion helped sometimes, but I put my finger in his small mouth as well.

"Padme," Hector warned.

She continued, but not as loud, "Did you forget what the Greeks did to me? Or what they did to your wife's family? Did Paris even think of that when he seduced the woman?"

I watched the eyelids of my son grow heavier and heavier, till he fell back into his sleep.

Again Hector told her, "Get Out."

Padme looked ready to slap my husband, "Padme." She looked to me. "Go," I repeated.

At that she threw her hands up, "Fine!"

"And stay away from Paris and Helen." I told her. She glared at me, "Just don't forget what I said. That man and his brother have not and will not change."

Hector watched her storm from the room. The slamming of the Chamber door told us she would be gone for hours, if not the rest of the day. I thanked the Gods it didn't wake my son. I continued to rock the crib, but slower, until I lifted my foot from it. Hector came to my side and watched our sleeping son.

"Why is she here," I asked him.

Hector didn't take his gaze from our son, "Because I would not let Paris go to

Sparta with her."

I reached out and touched his arm, "Hector I am no fool. Her husband will come for her and he will bring his brother. What will happen?"

He finally looked to me, both confused and frightened, "I don't know, love. Could we speak of something else? This has tormented me for the entire boat trip. I just spent an hour with father about this as well."

If he hadn't that look in his eyes I would have argued, instead I hugged him, "Very well, what do you wish to talk about?"

"I don't want to talk at all," he spoke against my ear.