The Laws of Brotherhood
Summary: Hector remembers his life and relationship with Paris, and the obstacles that drove them apart and brought them together. And now one more obstacle threatens to ruin them both.
A/N: This can be seen as a companion to my fic 'Haunted By Bliss', but it stands well enough on it's own. It's Hector's POV, and if you review, I'll respond. It's not slash. I think that's about it, so read and review and enjoy! Thanks!
Chapter One: Early Memories
Tucked behind all my other memories is a vague remembrance of my life when I was very young. I had to be younger than four summers old, for I can remember being alone with my father and my mother, who wasn't with child at the time. They were laughing at some funny thing I had just done, and I giggled with them in the way that all small children do. My mother scooped me into her arms, and I was too young to protest, so I gladly sat there, being careful not to squirm. I can remember a feeling of happiness, a carefree aura I probably didn't understand.
It is the only time I can remember being the sole child of my parents. When I was four years old Paris came into the world and introduced me to the law of brotherhood, and my life was never the same after that.
I promptly expressed my disgust when Mother first showed me the tiny red bundle that was Paris. "Yuck," I said, wrinkling my nose. Mother laughed and patted my head with her spare hand.
"This is your new brother, Hector. His name is Paris- say 'Paris," she said, her eyes twinkling as she looked from the baby's face to mine.
"Paris," I repeated obediently, poking one finger at him. His flailing arms bumped my finger, and as I drew it back e reached for it again with an irritated squall. After looking to Mother for approval, I held out my hand again and Paris rested his tiny hand against it. The little fingers moved as if trying to get a good grasp on it, and the cries ceased. To my mother it must have been a sign of a good relationship to come, but I was too much of a child to think anything of it. Over the next few years I proved her instinct right many times. I would stand on my toes and fold my fingers over the side of Paris' cradle. If he was sleeping, which he usually was, I would ask Mother the same question I asked her almost every day.
"How come he isn't growing, Mama?"
She'd patiently turn away from her loom and let me climb onto her lap. "He is growing, love," she would assure me. "Soon he'll be big enough to play with you."
It seemed to take an eternity, but eventually Paris learned to walk, if it could be called walking. He couldn't stumble more than a few steps without falling, it was true, but he would pick himself up and continue on his way. I was too young to remember, but Mother swears his first steps were toward me. It wasn't long before he was toddling after me everywhere I went. I would have to pause constantly to wait for him to regain his balance when he tottered, and if I didn't he would let out a screech so I would have to go back and help him up. I still remember the feeling of his pudgy hand in mine as we moved slowly through the halls on our daily adventures.
I guess that was my first lesson in the laws of brotherhood- never, ever leave your brother behind, or move on without him. Even then, I felt I had to be there to hold his hand. Maybe it was overprotective, I don't know. But in so many of my childhood memories, Paris plays a key role, so my protectiveness couldn't have been all that bad.
As could be expected, since Paris and I were so close from a young age, it left little room for our other brothers. Not long after Paris was born, Deiphobus came, and then later Helenus, Cassandra, Ilione, and Polites. When Deiphobus was old enough to walk, he tried following Paris and I. It infuriated Paris to no end. He was only a year older than Deiphobus, but that was all it took.
"No!" he would shriek, and if Deiphobus continued to tag along, he would turn to him and shout his favorite word again. This was usually enough to send our younger brother scrambling back to Mother, but one time, he was particularly determined and he continued to follow, reaching out to me.
"Heh," he pleaded, and I reached down, intending to pick him up. It was too much for Paris. With a howl of rage he hurled his weight at Deiphobus, thrusting his hands at his shoulders and pushing him down. Deiphobus landed hard on his rear. He sat there for a moment, stunned, and then exploded in tears.
"Paris!" I reprimanded, but Mother had come flying to the hall when she heard the baby's cries. She scooped Deiphobus up and balanced him on her hip, then dragged off Paris as well. And the next morning Paris toddled after me as usual, while Deiphobus looked on with a scowl. Never again did any of our brothers try to cut into our friendship, though both of us grew close with other cousins and siblings. We became nearly inseparable. Our close bond caused more problems in the future than we could have understood as children.
The problems started with Aeneas and have stretched as far as Helen of Sparta. And now, I wonder if the bond we share will destroy everything else I love. And I wonder if I am willing to risk it all.
Short, I know, but it gets longer around the third chapter. Let me know what you thought. Also, if you read or write Hector/Andromache fanfiction, please check out the Tragic Bliss Awards, there's a link in my profile to all the info you'll need. Thanks!