Another day had passed. The sun rose up into the sky steadily, pouring its light over the forest where the Princes and Princess' of Troy rested. Birds awoke from their peaceful sleep, rising as soon as dawn approached and the flowers slowly opened their petals, revealing a beauty they locked away at night.
Paris had risen early once again. Whenever he had closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep he was faced with the magnificent image of Oenone in his dreams. The image of her twirled happily behind his eyes, never did it disappear.
He had wished to see Oenone again today, but Hector and he were to go hunting. Then tomorrow they were to return to Troy.
Troy, the place he was once saddened to leave, but now angered to return to. He didn't wish to leave the beautiful forest he had become so accustomed to. Life here was incredibly pleasant for him, it was simple. The sounds of birds singing roused him from slumber instead of the murmured voices of those in the palace. He loved rising and feeling the cold, refreshing wind catch in the back of his throat. But more than anything … he loved Oenone.
Oenone was unlike any maiden or woman he had met before. He loved every word that dripped from her perfect mouth, and loved the sweet smell of flowers that surrounded her. He loved her. Paris could tell Oenone anything and everything and knew she would never judge him. And soon he would need to leave the love of his life, the true woman he would ever love.
Not wishing to return to Troy without her, Paris had thought of marrying Oenone. He decided to ask for Oenone's hand in marriage later that day. If she accepted him then he would take her to Troy with him and marry her, but if she refused then he would leave and never return to her again.
It already tore at Paris's heart to be parted from Oenone for long hours during which he had to spend with Hector and the others, he didn't dare imagine years without her if she refused him. He knew that if Oenone did refuse him, then it would only rip away at his insides to see her and not be able to be with her, knowing she had refused him.
"Paris, are you ready?" asked a voice Paris knew as well as his own. He turned to see his brother, the owner of the voice, standing behind him. Paris stood up from in front of his tent where he had waited for Hector.
Both Hector and Paris were prepared and walked over to their horses and mounted them. Their swords hung down by their sides as they rode through the forest, bows rested in front of them, resting on the saddle with them, and arrows rested in a shoulder bag.
Polyxena and Andromache waved to Hector and Paris as they rode away; they had decided to spend the day picking flowers that grew around the camp. The flowers they chose to pick were ones that rarely grew in Troy, therefore would be valuable to them in perfumes they could make.
"Are you alright?" asked Hector, as he and Paris rode through the forest, their movements slow and their voices whispers. Hector had been worried about his brother since they had arrived at the camp, something had changed within his brother and he had no way of knowing how or why.
"Yes," Paris lied, his voice more muffled that usual. He didn't look at his brother who watched him; instead he continued to stare ahead, pretending to be looking for deer.
"I know that since Andromache and I have been married that we've barely spent time together," said Hector, "but that can change now. We can spend more time together if you wish, Andromache will not mind."
Paris smiled. "I am not sad that I am spending less time with you dear brother, and I do not wish for you to change your ways now."
Hector nodded sadly, he knew there was something bothering Paris but didn't know what. "If something's bothering you Paris, then you can …," He quickly ended his words as he caught sight of a handsome, large deer grazing on the luscious grass ahead of them, it had still not heard the Princes approach.
The brothers quietly dismounted their horses and crept nearer to the deer. They stopped behind a group of trees close together, and reached for the bows and arrows they had brought with them. Hector's bow was prepared first; his arrow rested in the bow and was waiting for him to release it upon the deer. But Paris looked at Hector, silently expressing a wish for him to shoot the deer.
Nodding slightly, Hector relaxed his bow and watched as Paris carefully aimed his at the deer. With one movement Paris had shot his bow … and missed the deer. The arrow had hit the floor and startled the deer that looked up at Hector and Paris before racing away.
Paris immediately hurried after the deer, he was determined to have the deer after he had specifically requested to shoot it and then miss.
"PARIS!" yelled Hector, and ran after his brother. He couldn't believe how foolishly Paris was acting. Do you really think you can catch that deer now? thought Hector.
With severe determination flowing through his veins, Paris ran after the deer. He jumped over logs and bushes to keep up with it. He assumed that the deer would soon tire, like he would, if forced to continue to run at the speed it now did.
Hector soon lost sight of his brother and slowed to a walk, as he wanted to be able to hear Paris. The forest was large and he didn't relish the idea of searching for Paris for long hours, so thought to slowly walk through the area he had last seen his brother and keep his ears alert for movements.
Paris suddenly lost track of the deer, it had squirmed its way through various hedges and he had been too slow in following it. Now Paris soundlessly walked through the forest, his sensitive ears were listening for even the faintest of sounds around him. He soon heard movement around him, and raised his bow. Then a slither of brown fur was seen by Paris, it was a small glimpse through a mass of leaves, but he had seen it. He immediately released his arrow from the bow, aiming it directly at the owner of the brown fur.
An enormous loud yell erupted through the forest, followed by various foul words. Paris immediately removed the gleeful expression from his face that had spread while thinking he had shot the deer, but instead he had shot someone else. He knew the yell, he had heard it only once during his life but would never forget it. Paris ran through the bushes and leaves, he fell down to his knees when he saw Hector on the ground, an arrow hanging from his left arm.
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"Did you hear something?" asked Polyxena, and raised her back from leaning over and picking flowers.
Andromache, who was only a few feet away from her friend, shook her head. "No, what did it sound like?"
Polyxena shrugged her shoulders. "Never mind, I must have imagined it."
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Hector looked at his brother, his eyes fierce and wide. If he had strength to strike Paris then he would, the fool deserved it, but his eyes softened slightly at the look of panic widening across Paris's face.
"You fool Paris!" exclaimed Hector. He looked to the arrow and tried to pull the arrow from his arm, himself. After trying to release the arrow from his arm and being unsuccessful, he turned to Paris. "Pull the arrow out!"
Paris's eyes widened, he was already feeling nauseous at the sight of blood that leaked from Hector's arm. "P … pull it … out?"
"Yes!" cried Hector.
For a split second Paris closed his eyes, mustering the courage to pull the arrow from his brother's arm. Paris slowly leaned over and placed both of his hands around the middle of the arrow. A few moments passed before he pulled at it, and it took a few more pulls before the arrow quickly released from Hector's arms.
Hector winced with pain as the arrow slipped away from his arm. He gritted his teeth to lock away a low cry of pain. He then looked down to his arm and saw that it was still bleeding a little; he immediately clapped his right hand to the wound, hoping to stifle the small flow of blood.
"I'm sorry Hector," said Paris, his voice low and full of remorse, "I thought you were the deer, I didn't mean to."
"A deer?" growled Hector. "You thought I was a deer?"
"I saw fur through the bushes," Paris quickly replied.
"Fur?" whispered Hector, his voice low and firm. A puzzled expression then spread across his face and he looked down to his waist, where a small bag hung from his skirt. The bag was usually full of coins … and was made of rabbit fur. His eyes widened and he shook his head. "You saw this?" He gestured to the bag.
Paris looked strangely at the bag, opened his mouth slightly and quickly closed it. He only nodded his head, too ashamed to speak.
Hector sat up and then tried to stand, he had suffered from injuries before and lived another day, he would simply return to the camp and have Andromache tend to his wound that had now stopped bleeding. But as he stood, he suddenly swayed a little and had to clasp onto a nearby tree to steady him self.
"You put something on the arrow?" whispered Hector. He had been struck by arrows before, yet none had had this effect on him. He knew that some hunters put droplets of potions on the end of their arrows because it proved more successful for them while hunting.
A shocked expression spread across Paris's face, he opened his mouth, unable to speak. He nodded his head and lowered his head before raising it again. "I'm sorry Hector! I heard that potions helped while hunting, they said it would be easier to then fully kill the animal once you had shot it."
"What potion?" murmured Hector, and sunk down to the floor.
"I don't know, I can't remember," sobbed Paris, with tears strolling down his face. He crawled over to Hector and clasped onto his hands. "I'm sorry Hector."
A thought suddenly burst into Paris's mind. He remembered Oenone talk of being experienced with healing even the deadliest of wounds with herbs from the forest. Paris knew that Hector was too heavy for him to lean on his shoulder until they reached the horses, and that Hector could be in serious danger. He thought to run to Oenone and to the place she always spent in the forest during the daylight hours.
"Hector," Paris quickly said, "I'm going to find someone who can help you. I'm going to leave you here, but I'll be back."
"Where … are you … going?" whispered Hector, his eyelids beginning to droop.
"I'll not be long," said Paris, "I'll get help. Just stay here Hector, yes?"
Hector nodded slowly then allowed his eyes to fully close.
Paris stood to his feet and ran through the forest, he didn't know which way would lead him to Oenone, he felt completely lost but still continued to run. He suddenly tripped over the branch of a tree that had burst up from the confines of the ground beneath. Paris fell to his knees and allowed tears to gush down his red face.
"OENONE!" screamed Paris and hoped she wore hear his call, even though he knew it unlikely. He continued to call Oenone's name, thinking it to be useless, when she could in fact hear his call.
Not too far away from Paris, Oenone sat by a stream and washed some herbs she had picked earlier that morning. She rose to her feet as soon as she heard her name called by the one she loved. Her face grew pale, her eyes widened with anxiety, and she suddenly darted through the forest which she knew better than anyone. Following the calls of her name, Oenone soon saw the man she loved on his knees, sobbing hysterically. She had not foreseen this event to happen, and she titled her head in confusion.
"OENONE!" Paris roared once more.
Oenone ran to Paris' side, knelt down in front of him and took his face in her hands. She wiped away the tears that trickled from Paris's eyes, and delved into his eyes.
"You heard me?" mumbled Paris, and clung onto Oenone, burying his head into her robe.
"Yes," whispered Oenone. "What has happened Paris?"
"It's Hector," sobbed Paris, "I … I … I shot him with an arrow … but it wasn't … it wasn't an ordinary one … it had droplets on the tip of it … I don't know … I don't remember what the droplets are." He then allowed a muffled wail to escape his mouth.
"Take me to him," said Oenone, and helped Paris rise to his feet with her.
Paris tried to describe the area in which he had left Hector, and Oenone knew exactly where he meant and quickly led him there. It did not take long for Oenone and Paris to reach Hector, who lay sleeping against the trunk of an old tree.
Oenone ran to Hector's side and immediately spotted the deep wound on his left arm. She gently picked up the arm and held it to her nose, sniffing the wound and hoping to detect the potion that had been placed on the tip of Paris's arrow.
A moment or two passed and she continued to smell the wound, wishing to be correct in her assumptions before telling Paris what potion had caused Hector to react like he did. Oenone carefully rested Hector's arm by his side once more, stood up and walked to Paris.
"It was sleeping potion Paris," said Oenone. "Hector will be fine, although he'll most likely need to sleep the potion off before returning to normal."
A cry of relief escaped from Paris's mouth. He clasped onto Oenone and kissed her lips firmly; he had not kissed her before and felt his body tingle at the touch of her soft lips against his own.
Oenone closed her eyes in pain, feeling the pain that would soon erupt within her when Paris would leave her. She loved him so dearly, so powerfully and yet she had barely spent time with him. Oenone felt connected to Paris, she felt linked to him. She wrapped her arms around Paris's neck and held onto him tightly, never wishing to forget this moment when he was hers, when it was only them.
Oenone soon went to search for the horses, leaving Paris and Hector together. She returned and helped Paris lift Hector onto his horse. Paris them mounted Hector's horse and shared it with his brother, he held onto Hector carefully who still continued to sleep. Oenone mounted Paris's horse and they rode away to the camp.
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A/N: Another long chapter, I hope you enjoy :)
Queen Arwen – I found it really hard to think of ways to bring Oenone into it but I'm glad you liked it, thank you. And thank you for the review!
Donna Lynn – I agree with you, I love long chapters. I'm really glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. Thank you for the review!
Calliope – Thank you for the lovely complement in the review. I'm really sorry that you weren't successful with writing H/A. Thank you for the review!
Pisces Chick – You should definitely see the movie Troy, it's good. Thank you for the review, it was lovely!
Kitera-n-Lil – I'm sorry for taking longer than usual for updating, but I hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you for the review!
Beling – I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and thank you for the review! Hector is one of my favourite characters so I'm not looking forward to writing his death.
Lily – I agree, I think Eric Bana and Saffron Burrows did a good job at portraying Hector and Andromache. I hadn't realised Saffron's eyes weren't blue, but thank for bringing it to my attention. Thank you for the review, and I'm really glad you're enjoying the story!