Polyxena and Andromache soon returned to camp after picking various kinds of beautiful and exotic flowers. Upon returning, Polyxena retired to her own tent where she dressed into a clean robe after her previous one gathered dirt from kneeling down on the forest floor.
Deciding her robe was equally as stained as Polyxena's, if not more; Andromache also entered her tent and changed into a clean peplos. She then wrapped a light blue shawl around her, unclasped her hair from the intricate design Polyxena had insisted on doing, and sighed happily. Andromache turned to leave the tent and sit by the lake until Hector and Paris returned, but she halted in her steps suddenly.
Paris entered the tent, supporting Hector in his arms with the help of Polyxena and Oenone. They rested Hector, who still remained unconscious, on his bed carefully. Oenone quickly departed from the tent, but Paris and Polyxena remained by Andromache's side.
"What happened?" whispered Andromache, she hurried to Hector's side and knelt beside the bed in which he lay, then clasped onto his right hand. She felt the beating of her heart rapidly decrease while she waited for an explanation from Paris. She tried to open her mouth to speak, to hurry Paris's words, but could not form words with her desperately dry mouth.
"I shot Hector with an arrow," answered Paris, after a moment of stilled silence, he spoke quietly and bowed his head in shame, "it was an accident … I thought he was … it was an accident, an accident." He swallowed deeply, feeling guilt spread through him.
"It was an accident?" asked Andromache, speaking quietly and with a fierce edge in her tone. She rose to her feet and walked to where Paris stood, stopping when she was directly in front of him. "You call my husband unconscious and wounded an accident?"
"There was potion on the arrow," stuttered Paris, he didn't dare to look at Andromache and instead glared down to the floor, "it was a sleeping potion. I'm sorry … I truly am, but he'll be fine!"
Andromache suddenly slapped Paris, her smooth hand glided across his face. Paris gritted his teeth, feeling a sharp stinging sensation rise in his reddened cheeks.
"You're a fool Paris, a pathetic fool!" snarled Andromache. "You're a pitiful excuse for a Prince of Troy!" She then turned her eyes away from Paris and returned to her husband's side, shocked at what she had done and said. She hadn't believed such cruel words could escape her mouth and such words to be directed to a friend, she turned to apologise to Paris but he had quickly departed from the tent.
Polyxena slowly walked to Andromache's side, she was shocked by Andromache's harsh words, but understood and knew she had not meant them. She embraced Andromache, who clung onto her tightly.
"I didn't mean what I said," confessed Andromache, who began to sob on Polyxena's shoulder, "I adore Paris, he's like a brother to me. But I can't lose him Polyxena … I can't lose Hector, I need him!"
The death of Hector had never really passed through Andromache's mind, but now she realised, more now than ever, that she could lose Hector at anytime. He was a famous warrior of Troy, he had been sent away to fight and would continue to fight for years to come … she could lose the one she loved, and she would.
-
Oenone stood by the stream, she heard Andromache's words towards Paris and she understood them. She understood that Andromache had not meant the words she had spoken to Paris; she knew that the pain and shock of seeing her husband wounded had caused them. Being blessed with the gift of foresight, Oenone knew the futures of those around her. She knew what was to become of Paris, Hector, Andromache and even Polyxena, but seeing them all had made the realization of the future become so clearer to her. A part of her wished to tell Paris and his family to run away from Troy, to save them from the fate that had been forced upon them, but she would not dishonor the path the Gods had chosen for her.
Paris walked over to where Oenone stood, ignoring the wild glares of Polyxena that were directed towards him. Polyxena watched Paris as he approached the woman, unknown to her, and slowly entered her tent.
Oenone turned as she heard the footsteps of Paris come towards her, she smiled sadly and took his hands within her own. "Princess Andromache did not mean what she said."
Paris slowly nodded; he knew Oenone spoke words full of truth, but still felt sickened at what he had done. He didn't blame Andromache for the way she had reacted, he was shocked by her anger, but he understood.
"Come," said Oenone, and began to lead Paris away from the camp, "let us talk where we first met."
Paris followed Oenone without question, following her deep into the forest. They only stopped once they had reached the small area where they had first laid eyes upon one another. Oenone sat down on the floor and motioned for Paris to sit beside her. She looked up to the sky and smiled, the stars were shinning extremely brighter than usual tonight.
"Oenone … there's something I want to ," began Paris, but was interrupted by Oenone.
"Not now," she whispered and gently kissed Paris. She pushed him down onto his back and kissed him more fervently.
With the full moon hanging above them, Paris and Oenone made love. He took Oenone's virginity and led her to the path of women, a path she was happy to take. She had never felt happier than she did now, and would never feel this warm, loving feeling again.
Oenone now lay beside Paris; she stood up and quickly dressed with the moon as her light. She smiled when she saw Paris's sleeping form beside her and lay down beside him. Oenone wished to lock this memory away in her heart forever, lock it away in a place she could look back upon without bitterness from all that was to pass. She kissed Paris softly, wanting to remember the feel of his lips against her own.
Paris's eyes slowly opened. He smiled when he saw Oenone. He sat up and gazed into the kind eyes of Oenone, he felt that she would never refuse his offer of marriage if he were to ask now.
"Oenone," he said, "Oenone I love you. I've never loved a soul like you, not like I love you now. I need you Oenone, I don't know how I've survived without you, and I don't think I can live without you now. What I want to say is … Oenone … will you be my wife?"
A rush of feelings erupted within Oenone. Her heart screamed yes, while her head screamed no. Paris was her equal and she loved him so deeply. Oenone felt as if the love she felt for Paris was rooted within her heart, it would never cease and never leave her. She knew that Paris could not stay with her; it was against the will of the Gods who had dealt them futures long ago.
"I … I can't Paris," stuttered Oenone, barely able to speak as tears flowed down her sickly pale face. She lowered her head and tried to wipe away her tears.
Paris held onto Oenone's wrists and gazed within her eyes after she had lifted her head. "Why?" He did not try to disguise the pain within his voice; he was not ashamed to express his emotions, not now.
Oenone pushed herself away from Paris, she felt sickened by his touch but only because she knew how much she was hurting him. But she also felt pain; she would never experience pain like she did now. A moment or two passed and Oenone looked deeply into Paris's eyes, she pressed her hands against his cheeks and released more tears. She was breaking his heart, breaking it so another woman could come and mend it.
"I can't Paris, I cannot marry you," whispered Oenone, speaking firmly so she wouldn't have to repeat words that tore at her insides.
"You can!" cried Paris, and released tears of his own. He raised his hands up to his face, and placed them over Oenone's that still lay on his cheeks. "Be with me Oenone, you love me so be with me!"
Oenone shook her head slowly. "I do love you Paris, I do, but I can't be with you. Not now, not ever." She then rose to her feet and tried to wipe away her tears.
"You cannot be with me or don't wish to?" asked Paris, who also stood up.
"Paris if I could be with you then I would!" sobbed Oenone.
"Do not lie to me!" growled Paris. "If you loved me then you'd be with me."
"It's not as simple as that Paris," said Oenone, and threw her arms around Paris, but he pushed her away.
Paris shook his head. "I love you Oenone. I would have given anything for you to be happy with me." He turned to walk away but Oenone grabbed onto him.
"Paris," she cried, "Paris I love you."
"You don't," replied Paris, speaking quietly. He turned to look at Oenone and held her face in his hands. He gently kissed her lips, closing his eyes in pain as he felt her lips for the last time. Then he walked away, leaving Oenone crying hysterically, and returned to the camp.
-
The next day the Princes and Princesses returned to Troy. Andromache and Paris left the campsite as friends, both had apologised to one another on the morning of their departure to Troy. Although Andromache had noticed a change in Paris, a severe cold change within him. He was no longer the wild, young boy; he was a man with pain and suffering bubbling within his heart.
All but Hector had seen Oenone, although the two Princesses decided between themselves to not question Paris on the matter now. They could see how low his spirits were and allowed their imaginations to assume different tales of who the woman was.
Hector felt somewhat honoured that his wife had struck Paris for injuring him, although he didn't reveal his thoughts to her. He thanked the Gods for blessing him with an amazing wife, a better woman than he could have ever have dreamed of. She had stitched his wound and tended to him while he overcame the sleeping potion. He saw as she tended to his injury that she had been crying, but did not speak of it because he knew she wouldn't wish to.
They soon returned to the palace, greeting their family briefly before each returning to their own chambers. Out of the corner of her eye, as Andromache walked through the halls to her chamber with Hector, she saw a pyre burning in the town. She lowered her head in respect, respect for the person, unknown to her, that had died and now burned on the pyre of wood.
Hector immediately walked over to their bed once they had entered their chamber and collapsed upon it. He was severely tired after the ride and desired to sleep for hours without disturbance. He closed his eyes and was about to drift off to sleep when he saw a saddened look cross Andromache's face as she closed the chamber door.
"What is it?" asked Hector, and sat up.
Andromache smiled sadly at the look of concern on her husbands face. She walked over to their bed and sat down beside him. "I saw a pyre burning in the town; it reminded me of my family."
Hector nodded, he understood. He tenderly held onto Andromache's hand, sending vibes of comfort through her body. She kissed Hector's hand and then rose up from the bed. She then walked over to the balcony and looked out over Troy, the beautiful city she loved so dearly. After a few moments of thought she turned away from the balcony and instructed Hector to sleep, he did as ordered.
Deciding to sleep also, Andromache slowly dressed into a cool robe and joined Hector on their bed. She was about to close her tired eyes when she heard a faint knock on the chamber door. She immediately sat up, wrapped a thick shawl around her bare arms and quietly opened the door, as she didn't wish to wake Hector who continued to sleep.
Polyxena stood outside the door, looking as pale and white as snow. Her eyes were heavily blood shot and thick tears raced down her cold face. She embraced Andromache as soon as the door opened and she saw it was her friend.
Andromache quickly looked from Polyxena and then to Hector. She took Polyxena's hand and stepped out of the chamber, closing the door behind her. Polyxena looked up and down the hall and saw no one walking down it. She looked to Andromache once more and tried to speak, but her mouth was so dry that she took a moment before successfully trying again:
"He's dead Andromache," cried Polyxena, not attempting to lower her high and wailing voice, "he's dead!"
"Who is?" Andromache whispered.
"Nickolas," sobbed Polyxena, and sunk down to the floor, "Nickolas … Nickolas … he's dead, Nickolas is dead." She knelt down to her knees, feeling a sense of dizziness and nausea wash over her. She shook her head slowly, not wishing to believe that the one she loved was dead.
Andromache gasped aloud, and raised a hand to her mouth. She crouched down to Polyxena's height and held onto her hands. "How … how do you know, are you sure?"
"I saw him," Polyxena answered, quietly speaking, "I saw him burning on the pyre … his mother and father were crying loudly … I saw him."
Andromache bowed her head. It was Nickolas she had seen burning on the pyre. She felt the trembling hands of Polyxena within her own and spoke: "How did he die?"
More tears leaked from Polyxena's eyes. Her eyes widened and her face grew even paler. "He … he … kill- … killed himself." She closed her eyes tightly, wishing to forget the image of Nickolas's body burning, hoping that this was all a dream.
Andromache suddenly heard Hector call to her from inside their chamber; he had obviously woken up and found her to be gone. She quickly rose to her feet and then helped Polyxena stand.
"Return to you chamber," said Andromache, quickly, "I will come to you soon."
Polyxena slowly nodded, she had heard Hector also, and hurried to her room in the women's quarters.
Andromache stepped into her chamber and was faced by her husband who was about to leave it to find her. She knew that Hector would soon hear of Nickolas's death, he was a stable hand in the palace after all. And so she decided to tell him now, without mentioning that Polyxena had told her.
"Nickolas, the stable hand here in the palace, is dead," said Andromache, and sat down at the table in their chamber. "His pyre is the one I saw."
Hector sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "How did he die?"
"He killed himself," answered Andromache.
Hector said nothing and sat beside Andromache. He looked at her now and saw how Nickolas' death affected her; he knew that she was once again reminded of her family's death.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he said after a few moments, speaking seriously. "You're more perfect … so much more perfect than I could ever have imagined."
Andromache turned to look at Hector; she delved into his eyes and saw it. She saw the love he had for her, but it burned more brightly within his eyes now than it ever had. A few tears dropped from her eyes, and she embraced Hector tightly, not wishing to let him go.
"What is it?" asked Hector, startled by Andromache's tears.
"What if I lose you Hector?" asked Andromache. "What if you lose me? What will become of us?"
"We won't lose one another Andromache," reassured Hector, and brushed a hand through Andromache's thick hair, "we'll always be together."
-
A/N: Another long chapter, I hope you enjoy :) A note on Oenone, she will appear in the story towards the end, but this is it for her at the moment.
Donna Lynn – Thank you for the review and compliment! I have to say that you're very insightful into what will happen in the story, which is good. And I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter!
Queen Arwen – I'm afraid Paris did shot Hector; sorry that I had to do it but I felt it had to be done ;) You may tend to Hector; he probably needs a bit of extra care anyway ;) Thank you for the review, and I'm really glad you liked the last chapter and thank you for the compliment!
aLL aMeRIcAn gIRl 50 – I've always preferred Paris with Oenone too; I think she was better for him. And yes, Helen is quite the rotten spoiler:) Thank you for the review and I'm glad you're enjoying the story!
Kitera-n-lil – Thank you for the compliment and review! It's great that you like all the chapters, thanks:)
Beling – Paris was definitely stupid to shoot Hector, but Hector's better now so all's good:) Thank you for the review and it's great that you're enjoying this so far, thanks!