A cold wind blew through Hector and Andromache's chamber. Andromache awoke with a start and hurried over to wrap a shawl around her bare and shivering arms. She looked out to the balcony from where she stood, by her table, and sighed nervously. Another day had dawned, another day when she would sit and watch as her husband fought with the Greeks.
Over a year had passed since war had come to Troy, and it had seemed as if the whole Kingdom had eased into a frightening routine. Warriors would march out of the walls of Troy and fight until sunset. Those who had been injured on the field would either be taken to their homes or to houses prepared to help them. The dead would be gathered by the living and funeral pyres would be built for them. Each night relatives or friends would walk to the pyres of their lost one and place two coins on each of their eyes. And this is how the days passed, day by day.
Hector groaned and slowly sat up in his bed. He looked to where Andromache stood, a distant look spreading across her face, and smiled. He stepped out of his bed, pulled a sheet around his waist, and wrapped his arms around his wife.
"Must you fight today?" asked Andromache.
Hector smiled weakly as he nuzzled against Andromache's hair. She would ask that question every morning, and every morning he would give her the same answer she dreaded to her.
"You know I must," he said quietly. He released his arms from around Andromache's slender waist and walked over to the stand that held his armor.
"Will you watch from the walls again today?" asked Hector simply.
Andromache turned her head slowly to look at Hector, her mouth opened slightly. She couldn't believe he spoke of fighting so easily. Each day she felt as if a part of her had left when Hector left for battle. She would work at her loom for hours to keep her mind occupied and not on the thought of Hector being injured … or killed.
"I can't do this anymore Hector!" cried Andromache, and stepped away from Hector when he turned to look at her and held his arms out for her. "I can't watch while you fight, you … you know how it torments me."
"Helen watches each day," whispered Hector, "she can be there if you need someone."
"Oh gods," shrieked Andromache, "have you fallen under her spell as well?" She suddenly silenced herself. Her darkest fear, except that Hector would die in the war, was that he was attracted by Helen. She had watched them converse together with hawk like eyes, searching for the slightest trace of affection between them.
"NO!" shouted Hector honestly. "I only thought that if you were not alone on the walls, if you were with someone you knew then it might be more comforting to you." He paused for breath and then spoke again, this time more softly. "I look up to the walls when we go out to fight each day and I look for you, I want to see you there watching."
Andromache nodded. She knew it gave Hector comfort to fight if he saw her, it even spurred him on. When he saw Andromache on the walls he imagined the Greeks winning the war and him losing her, so he fought harder with the fear blazing in his heart.
"I'm sorry Hector," she said sadly and walked up to her husband. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his chest. "I'll watch from the walls."
Helen looked out past the city walls and saw small brown dots where the Greek boats rested on the shores of Troy. She gripped her small hands on the wall of Troy and smiled as the wind began to catch her hair and blow rebelliously behind her. Helen had come to watch as her countrymen fought against the Trojans, she always arrived at the walls shortly after dawn and before people came there.
The Spartan would watch each day as Greeks lunged to their deaths, and felt a sense of guilt because of it. She would always be a Greek, never a Trojan and she felt more sadness at seeing Greeks die than Trojans. The only reason Helen remained in Troy was because of Paris, her greatest love. She didn't remain to be whispered about by gossips, or to receive cold stares from those around her … she remained only for Paris.
Andromache walked up the wide steps leading to the section on the walls of Troy where members of the royal household, Elders of Troy and other select men and women stood to watch the battles each day. She decided to arrive their early that morning, and left with Hector when he went to the armory, because she wished to prepare herself for what she was to see again.
At the sound of footsteps, Helen spun around in her white robe embroidered with gold thread, to see Andromache stepping up onto the last step to the wall. She slowly turned away, not wishing to invite Andromache to speak with her.
Andromache, with her brown hair bellowing with the wind at her sides, gasped quietly when she saw Helen. She hadn't expected anyone other than the archers and guards to be on the walls so early.
Slowly, Andromache walked up beside Helen and looked out to the sea. She breathed in the cool air and turned to look at Helen, who was trying to avoid her eyes.
"Do you feel any guilt for bringing war to Troy?" asked Andromache, unable to contain the words she had wished to speak since Helen had arrived.
Helen appeared taken aback by Andromache's question. Her cheeks burned and she gritted her teeth in anger, and then slowly turned to look at Andromache. "Do you feel guilt for not providing Troy with an heir?"
Andromache's mouth opened in shock, and her face flushed in anger. She took a few moments to answer. "There will be no need for heirs, Helen, when Troy burns to the ground because of you!"
"You're right," said Helen quietly. She then drifted, the ends of her robe gathering dust behind her, down the steps leading off the walls of Troy and to her bed chamber.
Helen slammed her chamber door behind her and wasn't surprised to find that Paris had left. She sat down on her bed and wept quietly. She regretted ever coming to Troy, especially for leaving her daughter behind.
It wasn't uncommon knowledge to know that Prince Paris continued to bed other women while he had the most beautiful woman in his bed each night. When Helen learned of this, nearly three months since the Greeks had arrived in Troy; she slapped Paris and screamed at him for hours. But now she tolerated Paris's infidelity, after all they weren't married and never would be.
From that day on Helen and Andromache never spoke of what they had spoken of to one another on the walls of Troy. They carried on as mere acquaintances, but never friends.
A/N: Some people say that Helen and Paris were married, and some don't. I'm going with the theory that Helen and Paris weren't married, and that Helen is still technically married to Menelaus. Thank you for all of the reviews, it's really lovely, and please keep reviewing :)
Queen Arwen – Menelaus and Paris both deserve a slap, and I'm planning to have them fight together later on in the story. I'm really glad you enjoyed the chapter and the battle imagery, thank you and thank you for the review :)
Kitera – I can understand you don't want Hector to die, I'm not looking forward to it either, but I'm afraid he will die in this, sorry! I'm really glad you enjoyed the last chapter, thank you and thank you for reviewing :)
Priestess of the Myrmidon – I'm glad you like the scenes I've created and that you're enjoying this, thank you! I think you added this to your favourites last time, thank you once again and thank you for reviewing :)
aLL aMeRIcAn gIRl 50 – The war has begun, but the war lasts ten years in this so we've still got quite a few chapters to go. I'm glad you liked the last chapter, thank you and thank you for the review :)
Lily – I'm really glad you liked the last chapters, thank you! And I'm planning to keep updating this twice a week. Thank you for the review, and take care too :)
Ithil-valon – Thank you for reviewing from chapters 37 to 40, and I'm really sorry you had the flu! More will be revealed about Hector's hatred/love for his brother in the coming chapters, but both situations you pointed out were quite telling. Thank you for reviewing the chapters, and I'm really glad you're enjoying this :)