A/N: The Hector/Andromache shipper in me has burst out of its chains, yet again, so this chapter's pretty full of them. It's a bit pointless, but humorous, and I'll really deal with Oenone next chapter. Until then, enjoy!
This chapter is dedicated to Lady Hades for all the help she's given me over the last few weeks, ranging from boys to writing to opinions. And she managed to help me so much from across an ocean, which is pretty impressive. Go check out her story Unexpected later, it's wonderful!
Chapter Eight: The Snake
About a week after Paris dragged his new wife to Troy, both Andromache and I were feeling hopeless. So eager were we to make sure that Paris wouldn't break Oenone's heart, we had resorted to desperate measures, it shames me to admit. We had decided to keep the couple under close observation, and try to form some sort of plan to get Oenone back to Mount Ida when she wished to.
Which is why that sunny afternoon found us crushed uncomfortably behind a group of trees in the wild hills behind the city, watching Paris and Oenone. They were a few hundred feet away, enjoying themselves much more than we were. Paris had brought along his bow and a quiver of arrows, probably planning to bring home some game to present to the palace chefs. Oenone had found two large stones and sat on one, arranging the basket of food she had thoughtfully brought. Paris alternated between showing off his hunting skills and charming Oenone. He would effortlessly shoot a bird flying above, then retrieve it and stride to his wife, grinning. I could clearly hear just about everything he said to her, and his romantic words and actions were starting to make me feel ill. Even worse was watching Oenone's adoring eyes and her praise
"I think he'll get bored with her soon, the poor girl," I whispered to Andromache. She shot me a look that let me know this wasn't her idea of a good way to spend a day that I was free from councils.
"I think we've established that already," she hissed back. I raised one hand to her hair, gently extracting a twig that had entangled itself. She slapped my hand lightly.
"Look, love, if you want me to, I'll try to warn Oenone one last time," she offered. "But I don't think she believes he'll just lose interest and leave her."
I looked back at the newlyweds. Paris was slipping a grape into Oenone's mouth. I cringed and looked back at my own wife. "She loves him," I muttered sorrowfully. "She's destroying herself. She won't be able to return to her home without being shamed."
Andromache had thought of a more pressing problem. "What if they decide to take a swim?" she asked, gesturing behind us. A few steps away from our concealing group of trees was a small, dark pond. If Paris had the bright idea of showing off his swimming skills, we would be caught spying.
"We'll say we've come for a picnic," I suggested, but Andromache looked doubtful. Glancing back at the pond, I remembered one of Paris' fears.
"He won't go in; the water isn't clear enough. If he can't see the bottom, he always worries about water snakes biting his legs," I explained.
"I understand his fear," Andromache confessed. She brushed the dirt from her skirt of her pale gold dress. "Look at them now, Hector!"
I looked at where her slender finger was pointing. Paris was on his knees, professing his "undying" love to Oenone. One hand was over his heart; his expression was dramatic. I could feel my lip curling into a sneer as I watched his performance. Surely Oenone couldn't be taking him seriously.
But the look on her face was almost the same. She was blushing and gazing at him with awestruck eyes. She believed him with all her heart.
'She's so naïve," I snarled. Then Paris stood up, waving his bow expertly. The declarations of love were over. It was time to show off again.
I watched as he scanned the area. "I shall shoot that rabbit!" he exclaimed. But clearly his bride felt sympathy for the furry creature.
"Shoot a bird instead," I heard her beg. So Paris looked around once more, and he stopped facing our clump of trees. I receded as far back as I could without moving much.
"I'll shoot that golden pheasant," he said, nocking an arrow and pulling back quickly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the golden fabric of Andromache's gown. A rush of adrenaline shot through me as I picked her up by the waist and jumped with her into the pond.
The water was cooler than I expected. I surfaced just in time to hear the arrow embed itself in the tree my wife had been crouching behind. Andromache came up sputtering, clawing the hair off her face.
"What did you do that for, you oaf!"
She was struggling, but I kept one arm locked around her waist as I kicked frantically. She looked like she was going to protest more, and though I knew I would regret it later, I clamped one hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened, then narrowed with fury. I shook my head desperately, hoping she wouldn't bite me. We had landed in the middle of the pond, and it was fairly deep. Swimming as quickly as I could while carrying her and keeping her quiet, I moved to the far end of the pond, where there was a shelter of overhanging roots.
We arrived just in time. Paris bounded into the circle of trees, his bow in hand. I pushed Andromache farther beneath the roots, using my body to shield her dress from his eyes. I prayed to every god I could think of to keep my brother ignorant of what had just happened.
He must have seen the patterns on the water, but as luck would have it, he didn't comprehend them. He stayed on the banks for what seemed like an eternity.
"I shot it, but it must have landed in the lake," he finally called to Oenone. I let out a sigh of relief as I heard his footsteps leave the banks.
"I can stand here, you dolt," Andromache growled quietly as I removed my hand. I loosened my grip on her waist and moved a stroke away, into slightly deeper water.
"He thought you were a pheasant," I explained, still fearing her wrath. "Your dress is gold."
Understanding lit up in her eyes, but it was quickly beaten back by anger. "He thought I was a bird? I've been insulted," she said haughtily. "Hector, your brother just tried to kill me! Aren't you going to fight for my honor?"
"Believe me, I would kill for your honor, but we must maintain our secrecy," I said dryly. "Let's swim back to the other side and get out." I knew Andromache couldn't swim, but if she stayed near the edges of the water, she could make it.
I must have swum two strokes when she leapt at me with a huge splash. I righted myself so I could stay above the surface by treading water. She put her arms around my neck, and her legs wrapped around my waist like strangling ivy vines.
"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to loosen her hold on my neck. "Let go! I can't swim like this- we're going to drown!"
But she adamantly kept her limbs locked around me, and I couldn't have slipped away if I tried. "Something just touched my leg! There must be snakes in the water."
Much as I normally would have loved having her cling to me like that, it just wasn't practical for the current situation. I could feel myself tiring; I was going to sink. "It was probably a weed," I tried to console her, but she didn't believe me.
"I hate snakes," she whimpered. I tried to propel myself forward, and I landed on a sandbar. I could stand.
"Andromache, love, there are no-" I cut off my words with a gasp. Something smooth had just brushed across my thigh.
"What is it?" Andromache whispered, frightened.
"Nothing. A weed." I spent another moment on that sandbar, trying to summon the energy to get us both across the pond. As I took my first stroke, I let out a yelp of pain. Something had pierced my tendon, and the pain was excruciating. I gritted my teeth and tried to control my breathing, which was made impossible by Andromache's weight.
"What happened?" she asked, panic clear in her voice. "Did you get bitten by a snake?"
Yes, I had. And if I had come across that snake on land, where I had the advantage, I would take my revenge. But if I told Andromache the truth, she would be terrified, and possibly cling to me more tightly, in which case we would surely drown.
"No, I stepped on a sharp rock," I lied through a clenched jaw, praying the pain in my foot would lessen. Using the unharmed foot to propel us forward, we reached the far bank with no new problems.
As soon as I had managed to get us close to the bank, Andromache hopped neatly off my back onto the muddy ground and ran a few steps, keeping a sharp eye out for snakes. I came out on my knees, dragging my calves and feet through the mud. My wife hardly noticed my condition. She darted toward the trees and peered around one, then came back to where I was.
"Paris is speaking with her again. I don't think he saw us, but we had better go back to the citadel now," she said in a hushed voice. "We must be there before they return."
"Mmmm," I said in agreement, making no move to stand. The pain had spread from my tendon to the entire foot. It pulsed and throbbed in red-hot waves of pain. Andromache saw the expression on my face and grew worried.
"How sharp was that rock?" she asked, crouching on the ground. I wondered why she wasn't worried about getting her gown dirty; I knew she liked it. Then I realized it was soaked from the pond anyway. She examined my tendon, and I craned my head to look. Sure enough, there were two puncture holes on each side, and the skin was red and irritated.
"It was a snake," she said exasperatedly.
"Yes," I admitted. Now that we were no longer in the water, I could tell the truth, and she wouldn't be afraid, or so I thought.
She was terrified, for a different reason. "What if you've been poisoned by it?" she asked in a worried whisper. "I can't tend it! Hector, I do not want you to die!"
"I'm not going to die," I assured her, but I was far from certain about that. After all my long years as a soldier, a cursed snake would finally bring me down. "We need to get back," I reminded her. "Help me up."
Andromache held out her hand, and I wrapped my fingers around her wrist. She tried her hardest to pull me up. I had to admire her effort. She put her other hand over mine and leaned back, but in the end, it was apparent that she just wasn't strong enough. I finally used the advantage of her pulling to hop up, putting more weight on the bitten foot than I intended. I let out a hiss of pain, using Andromache's shoulder to steady myself. I peeked between the trees to make sure Paris and Oenone hadn't heard.
"How are we going to make it to the palace?" I asked quietly. Andromache looked off toward the distant gate.
"I can carry you," she decided.
I looked her small body up and down dubiously. Once I had been injured in a skirmish, so hurt that I had to be carried home. I was younger then, and probably lighter, and yet it took both Aeneas and his largest soldier to lug me home. "No, you can't."
"Hector, we need to get home!" she said desperately.
"I'll walk. It isn't too far," I said determinedly.
She gave me a look that I had received many times before; when she believed I was doing something stupid. This time she must have realized we had no choice. "Lean on me, at least," she said in defeat.
I draped my arm over her shoulders, putting just enough weight so she would think she was helping me. It did little to aid me. I still had to use the injured foot, and every time I placed it on the ground, even for a second, lightning bolts shot up and down my lower leg.
And we still had to be cautious of Paris and Oenone. I tried to move as quietly as possible, and it resulted in a heavy limp. It must have been a funny sight: the crown prince of Troy leaning on his slim wife, both soaking wet, limping down the hillsides. It only got worse.
Once we had made our way down the hill a bit, walking on a narrow path, I let out a sigh of relief. Paris and his new bride could not see us over the hilltop. That thought distracted me for one crucial moment. I stuck my injured foot on a stone, and in my haste to remove it, I tripped. I tried to keep my balance by hanging on to Andromache, which upset her own balance but didn't help the situation. Before I fully registered what was happening, we were both tumbling down the steep hill. After a confusing blur of entangled limbs, Andromache was no longer falling with me. I continued rolling. I had no control; twice I tried to grab a bush or stone with my hand to stop myself, but it was useless. I saw only green, brown, and blue blurs, and occasional red bursts of pain as every obstacle I rolled over jarred my foot.
Finally I felt a sudden pressure, colliding with my ribs. Despite the pain and shock as the breath was forced out of my chest, I was relieved. A young tree had stopped my journey. For a moment I just lay where I was, staring listlessly at the branches above me.
"Hector!" Andromache screamed. I heard her footsteps thunder to where I was. She knelt down next to me, her eyes wide with fear. "Are you hurt?"
I blinked up at her. "No more than I was," I muttered, though it wasn't true. I would have a dark bruise on my ribs by the next morning, I knew. "Come, we must get back." She helped me up as much as I would let her. The sight of her was enough to cheer me up a bit. Her damp dress was covered in mud, and her hair had collected an impressive amount of dirt and twigs from our tumble. She looked completely disheveled; nothing like the royal princess Troy expected her to be. I felt privileged to see that side of her.
That glimmer of happiness faded as soon as I took my first step on the bitten foot. As I bit back a gasp, I toyed with the idea of cutting off my foot. Surely it wouldn't hurt as much as that cursed bite did, and I didn't need the foot that much. Except, of course, to walk.
"Let me go back to the citadel, Hector. I'll summon Aeneas and he can come carry you," Andromache offered, laying her hand on my arm. I knew I couldn't have her do that. It would be too humiliating to have Aeneas help me back to the palace. I planned to keep my injury a secret. Who could take a warrior seriously if an animal could weaken him?
"I can walk. We're near enough," I said. And so began the most painful walk of my life. Even worse than the singeing pain in my tendon was trying to hide it from my wife. My elaborate plans involving snakes were the one thing that kept me from crying out. If I ever see a snake again, I will hack it into pieces, and then I will burn the pieces, and I'll stomp on the ashes…
It took nearly half an hour to reach the palace. The mere sight of it made me walk faster. I was eager to reach my chambers and rest. I flung open the heavy door to the rooms and collapsed onto the bed, closing my eyes.
Andromache came a moment later. "Here," she said quietly, pressing a goblet of water into my hands. I downed the contents thirstily, laying back down when I was done. I was aware of Andromache prodding my foot, but I dozed off before she wrapped it in linen.
When I woke, I was alone-and ravenous. I considered sending a servant to fetch food, but decided against it. It was close enough to the evening meal that I could arrive early and start eating. I slid out of bed and started toward the door, trying to ignore how badly I was limping. As soon as I got into the hallway, I found a nasty surprise waiting.
"What happened to your foot, brother?" Paris asked. I stopped my hobbling. Did he know we had been spying? He would never forgive me for it.
I leaned against the wall. "Snake bite," I said guardedly. He nodded thoughtfully.
"A snake bite? Where was the snake? Surely not in the stables, it would have spooked all the horses," he mused. "I thought most snakes lived in the hills."
He knows, I thought in dismay. I risked a glance into his eyes, expecting an accusation, but he looked surprisingly quizzical. Was there a chance that he didn't know? Was he really that dense?
"There was a snake in the garden," I lied. "I was there with Andromache, and I didn't notice the snake."
Paris' eyebrows shot up past his curls, and he smiled a knowing grin. Oh, no. I did not mean it to sound like that, I groaned inwardly. I was about to speak and correct his notion, but he spoke hastily.
"Oh, I see. No wonder you didn't see that snake," he smiled, clapping me on the shoulder. I winced. "Well, brother, you had as good a day as I did!" With that, he pranced off toward the dining hall. "But change your clothes, Hector. You look terrible," he called over his shoulder.
I looked down. With my wild hair and mussed clothes, I suppose I only supported his notion. Andromache would be furious if she found out. But as long as Paris was still in the dark, I was safe.
I attempted to saunter, but ended up hopping to the dining hall, feeling very pleased as I thanked the gods for lusty brothers.