A/N: I know it's been too long since my last update, but I hope everyone will like this chapter. It shows Hector being an awkward fool, and Paris being more mature than usual. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Six: Advice Taken

It was hard for me to admit that I was in dire need of aid as far as Andromache was concerned. I spent hours searching my mind for some kind of simple solution to the problem. Had I not liked my betrothed, my incapability of earning her favor wouldn't have bothered me. But I was enchanted by her defiant independence and her obvious joy in life. And I decided that since I was going to spend my life as her husband, I should at least try to win her affection.

Accomplishing my stubborn resolution was the main problem. The years of my early manhood were spent mostly with a spear in my hand and dust from the battlefield in my hair. Paris was the expert on women; there was no denying that. No matter how many other options I tried to think of, I couldn't escape the facts. I would have to ask my younger brother for help.

The idea didn't appeal to me at all. I had reprimanded Paris countless times over the year for spending so much time with various women hanging on his arm, instead of a shield. His behavior was unsuitable for a prince of Troy, and I told him so on many occasions. Asking for his advice felt hypocritical.

But the day my father set the wedding date for only a week later, I knew I had no choice.

I stood outside the door to Paris' chambers for a few minutes, arguing with myself. My own self-respect was holding me back. Finally my interest in Andromache made me knock on his door.

He appeared almost immediately, with a look of absolute glee dancing on his face, almost as if he had expected me to come. "What can I do for you, brother?" he asked, opening the door welcomingly and ushering me inside. He stretched himself out on a lounging chair, and I sat on a wooden stool. Already I was embarrassed.

"I need your help," I admitted grudgingly. I hadn't thought it possible, but Paris' grin grew wider.

"With?" he prompted. I laced my finger and avoided his eyes before I spoke.

"Andromache."

"Really?" Paris bounced into a more upright position, supporting himself with his hands. I could see the happiness in his dark eyes, and also mischief. He had control of the situation, and he was going to bask in his control for as long as he could. "My brave older brother is asking me for help?"

I rose to my feet, regretting my decision to come. "No, I'll ask Aeneas instead," I informed him. Paris flung himself off the chair.

"No! Wait, Hector! Aeneas can't help you! All the girls like about him are his godlike looks, and you don't have good looks-" I whirled around to meet his eyes sourly. He paused with his eyes wide, tentatively trying to cover his insult. "And you don't need wonderful looks, because you've got such a good personality," he continued in a voice reeking of uncertainty. I returned to the stool. "Luckily you have the looks, too," Paris tried once again to repair his words.

I sighed. I wasn't going to fool myself into thinking my appearance could compare to Aeneas' or Paris', although later on Andromache seemed to think it did. "I want her to like me," I told him desperately. When he raised one eyebrow, I clarified. "Only because we'll have to spend so much time together. Friendship is all I ask. Nothing more."

I was nervous even talking about Andromache. I could pretend to keep my cool around her, but in reality, I felt like a bumbling idiot. Everything I said seemed stupid, and I couldn't find a comfortable way to stand. No matter what I did, I felt and probably looked like a fool.

Paris surprised me by understanding the sensitivity of the situation. No doubt he knew more about my feelings for her than I did. "Then try to be her friend," he advised. "Be there for her when she needs you."

"She doesn't need me," I said in dismay, dropping my head into my hands. "Have you seen her when she's with me, Paris? It isn't hard to tell that she'd do anything to get away from me."

"Oh, I doubt that," Paris assured me. My heart swelled with gratuity to my little brother. He was truly trying to help me, even if I was a lost cause. "I think she's just intimidated by you. In her eyes, she's being forced to marry a hero- the hero of an entire city," he stressed.

He lost me there. From a very young age I had understood that I had to be a hero. I was trapped in that destiny. The Fates had chosen my life for me. I failed to see how that related at all to me betrothed.

I felt sorry for Paris, who went to great lengths to try to explain it to me. "Maybe she doesn't need the hero of a city. Maybe she doesn't want a hero who braves trials for everyone else. She wants a hero for herself," he said, looking at me pleadingly, as if I should comprehend his words.

Try as I might, I didn't. It wasn't until a few months later that it dawned on me, and I needed Andromache herself to show me what she needed. I toyed with my hands as I responded. "Heroism should have nothing to do with this. I want to win her friendship, not her undying love."

Instead of giving up on me the moment those words passed my lips (as he probably wanted to do), Paris persisted in his teaching. Maybe he's not as stubborn as I can be, but he can be very determined if he wants to. He must have already decided that it was his duty to help me win Andromache over. He could sense love even before it happened. So could Aeneas; it must have been a gift from Aphrodite. Before I met Andromache, I couldn't even begin to fathom the gifts of Aphrodite.

"Brother, trust me," Paris said urgently. "Learn more about her to know her better. And let her know you, too. Stop hiding."

"I am not hiding," I said indignantly. He ignored my statement and tried to break down his plans into terms I would understand.

"In battle you have to make quick decisions, do you not?" he said, obviously excited about getting through to me. I nodded, thinking that he was insane. "You have to act quickly with her, too. Let down your defenses. Let her see the real you, including your weak spots. You won't be sorry."

"I'll give it a try," I said casually, standing. "Thank you for your help." Just before I reached the door, I called out one more time.

"Paris?"

"Yes?" he replied, looking extremely satisfied with himself.

"I'm never letting you fight in a battle. With all your 'letting down your defenses and letting the enemy see your weak spots,' you'd be the first to perish," I told him, ducking behind the door as he threw a cushion at me. With that comment, I was relieved to see that everything had returned to what was normal for us.

That only left Andromache to deal with. With my brother's advice fresh in my mind, I boldly took the hall to the women's guest chamber and told one of the servants to fetch her for me. She didn't keep me waiting for long. Andromache slipped into the hall and stood with her back against the wall, looking at me expectantly.

I probably should have spoken more gently. "We are to be wed in a week," I blurted out. "My father is already arranging the ceremony."

Every bit of color left her face as my words died. Immediately, I felt terrible. "Are you ready to discuss marriage?"

Her cold stubbornness was probably what compelled her to speak. "I said I would marry you," she said miserably. "What is there to discuss?"

I ran through Paris' well-thought plan in my mind. "There is much to discuss," I told her, looking pointedly at the door. More than once, the palace's pesky maidservants have eavesdropped on my conversations and created absurd stories about me. I wasn't going to let it happen again. "Come. Walk with me."

She reluctantly stepped toward me and we began to walk. I had no particular destination in mind; I was focused on maintaining her pace.

Apparently Andromache couldn't stand the silence. "What is it you expect of me?"

Again, I was grateful for Paris. "I want you to treat me as you would treat a friend," I told her. There. I let my defenses down, somewhat. "Loyalty is all I ask. And if there is anything you want or need, I would have you tell me. And what do you expect from me?"

The glance she shot me was one of utter disbelief. But the question hung in the air, unfinished. Surely she could feel it. "I don't demand anything from you," she said. Her voice was soft; her words were true. It saddened me to think that she was coming into the marriage with the thought of receiving nothing for herself.

"Even if you truly expect nothing, I can promise to be faithful to you, and kind," I said, feeling a flood of nervousness race through my veins. "I will love you as a husband should."

I thought I had opened the gate to friendship. I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Stop," she snapped, her eyes blazing. "Don't you dare force yourself to love me. I never want to be loved that way. If we become friends, fine, we can share the love of friendship, but don't force yourself to love me more than that. I agreed to be your wife. Not something that commands your devotion."

Her anger incited my own, and I didn't see the irony in her final statement until later. She was calling me a liar. It had not happened before. "So be it," I answered icily. "I will not love you as lovers would. But I will be faithful to you. My mother raised me to remain true to one woman, and I will do as I believe is right."

"Fine," she said. My rage had cleared my head of all Paris' careful preparations, but I guess my defenses were still down.

"Do you ride horses, Andromache?" I asked suddenly.

"In a chariot?" she fumed. Fury was inscribed in her features, and still she was beautiful.

"No. On a horse," I shot back.

"That's nonsense," she retorted. "Horses are for chariots, not for a man to ride."

I could feel a smirk settling on my face. "Watch." I plucked up her hand and walked faster, knowing exactly where I wanted to go. A few times I looked over my shoulder, only to receive a glare than could probably kill small animals at close range.

The familiar smell of the thick air at the stables calmed my instantly. Leaving Andromache in the aisle between stalls, I slipped into the stall of my favorite horse, Lampos. Without thinking, I began speaking to the beast, then humming as I slid a metal bit into his eager mouth. My anger, which had protected me so well, had vanished. Some of Andromache's had, too. As I led Lampos out of his stall and put a hand on Andromache, she twisted out of my reach and growled, "You are not leading me as you lead that horse." Much of the rage had already disappeared from her face, and I knew her warning was a feeble one. I shrugged and managed to keep an amused smile from my lips.

We made our way to the large arena outside the east entrance, and I opened the gate to lead Lampos into the sandy circle. Andromache leaned stiffly against the outer wall.

The morning sun beat down on my back. Abandoning all of Paris' suggestions, I resorted to classic wooing, which Aeneas had taught me: showing off. As I stepped onto a boulder to mount Lampos, I decided to show Andromache why the horse taming Trojans were legendary.

I started him off at a quick trot, but the horse wanted to go faster. Before I let him, I stopped him in front of the wall, next to Andromache. She looked up at me in horror.

"He is going to kill you," she informed me. Laughter burst from my throat.

"No, he won't," I told her. "They call me the Tamer of Horses for a reason."

I held her gaze and tossed her a smile as I put pressure on Lampos' belly. He needed to urging. He took off at a gallop, and I clung to him with my legs, leaning forward and daring the wind to bite at my face. I let him gallop around the arena three times before pulling the reins in front of my betrothed again.

"What do you think?" I asked, still smiling. I saw her swallow heavily, but she put on an unconcerned act.

"Cocky," she muttered, loud enough so I could hear. I shrugged.

"Do you want to ride him?" I asked. She raised her eyebrows so high I thought they would vanish.

"You're jesting," she said cautiously. I grinned and slid down from Lampos' back, leaving the reins dangling to the ground. "No! I'm not getting killed, Hector!" she protested, backing away as I came through the gate.

"You won't get hurt. I trained him myself," I said, slipping in to the soothing voice I used with the horses. She barely struggled as I took her into the arena, but I saw her eyes focused on something behind my head. She shook her head desperately. I snapped my head around to see what she was looking at, but saw nothing.

"I'm marrying a madman," she said, as one last appeal.

"At least now it'll come as no surprise," I told her mildly. I waited for her to nod before I wrapped my arms around her waist and lifted her onto Lampos' back. She barely weighed anything. She met my eyes and I could see fear in them. She looked unprotected up there, with her dress pushed past her knees, her hands pressed flat against the horse's neck. I hurried to jump on his back as well, and put one arm around her waist, hoping that would make her more comfortable. I knew she would enjoy what I had in store for her.

"Weave your fingers into his mane- it won't hurt him," I told her gently. She obeyed, slowly. I moved a bit closer to her to picked up the reins. "Ready?" I asked.

"Yes," she whispered. I made sure that I had a tight grip on her before pressing my legs against Lampos. As soon as he started her thundering gallop, she fell back against me, unaccustomed to the rhythm of the horse. I sat up straighter to compensate for her weight. Her hair was whipped into my face, and for one agonizing moment, I thought she was still terrified. I was going to stop Lampos and apologize profusely for taking her on a ride, until I heard it.

Laughter. She was laughing. Once this registered in my mind, I couldn't keep a foolish grin off my own face. I made her laugh. Sure, Lampos helped, and Aeneas did too by telling her secretly to get on the horse, but I had played a huge part. We raced around the arena until I could feel Lampos tiring, and then I slowed. Andromache was still laughing joyfully, and I savored every musical second of it.

"So you liked it?" I asked, eager to confirm my thoughts.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, every trace of her rage gone. I hopped off the horse and helped her down as well, feeling, for the first time, exactly how delicate she was. I couldn't have been happier. That ride had made us friends. I expected nothing more at the time.

The love that followed is the best gift I have ever received, and I owe it to my brother that I'm fortunate enough to be loved by Andromache.

Now that I've got that set up, I can skip ahead about a year, and get more into their relationship, as well as the stresses of Hector and Paris' relationship. Stay tuned!