The sun began to set across the sea, and the sky began to darken as night approached Troy. Stars were suddenly visible in the night sky, and Andromache looked at them from one of the many royal gardens.
Andromache had sought comfort from the soothing garden with its sweet smelling flowers and numerous fountains. She had allowed Astyanax's nurse to care for him while she spent time alone.
Thoughts twirled through Andromache's head and she could find no peace from them. She had seen Hector fighting that day, she had seen her husband kill a man he thought to be Achilles, and now she was more scared for his life than ever. Andromache knew Achilles would not rest until he had sought revenge, she already knew the feeling of suffering he caused when he killed her family in Thebe, and she wasn't ready to feel that kind of pain again.
Footsteps approached Andromache, and she quickly spun around. She exhaled heavily when she saw it was Hector. She stared at him, her eyes wide and clear, and she knew then that she would soon lose her husband.
Hector walked up to Andromache and embraced her. He said nothing to her, no usual greeting, instead he clung to her tightly, fearing to let go.
Andromache didn't need to hear words from her husband; she knew every thought that passed through his mind because she could see it all in his eyes. She pressed her lips against Hector's and was immediately warmed by him.
They stood there, clinging on to one another, for what seemed like hours. Neither one of them wished to separate.
"You didn't know it wasn't Achilles," whispered Andromache, as she rested her head on Hector's chest. She felt the pace of Hector's heart quicken and looked up at him.
Hector said nothing; he didn't know what to say. He had made a mistake that he was certain would cost him his life, and many others.
"You kill Greeks everyday," continued Andromache, "Patroclus was another Greek who invaded Troy's shores. If you did not kill him, then he would have continued taking Trojan lives."
Hector gently pulled away from Andromache, he knew she was trying to reassure him but he couldn't bear to listen to more words of comfort. Since he had entered the palace that night, all he had heard was words of reassurance for killing Patroclus. Even his father, King Priam, had expressed words of comfort – even though the King held an expression of fear while speaking them.
"Don't turn away from me Hector," said Andromache, her voice shaking slightly. "We can't allow this war to come between us."
"It isn't," said Hector, a note of confusion in his voice. He turned to look at Andromache and saw that she was shivering slightly.
"It is," said Andromache quietly. "I hardly ever see you Hector, neither does your son. Everyday I must answer to Astyanax when he asks where you are, and each day the fear rises in my voice because I fear for you!" She breathed in heavily; surprised the pitch of her voice had risen while she was speaking.
"What do you want me to say, Andromache?" Hector asked, his voice was quivering and low. He hated fighting when he should be with his wife and son, but he had no choice. He had to fight.
"I don't know," answered Andromache weakly. She felt weak after expressing what she had; she had kept those words inside her for so long that it was almost as if they had become a part of her.
"This is what war is like," said Hector, "the men are away fighting and the women and children are left behind. I can't change this war, I wish that I could but I can't!"
"Who do you fight for, Hector?" Andromache asked suddenly, she had regained her strength and her voice was as strong as ever.
Hector stared at Andromache with narrowed eyes; she had never asked him such a question. He had always presumed Andromache knew why and who he fought for. "I fight for Troy." He finally answered.
"And Astyanax and I … what about us?" said Andromache, and she began to step closer to Hector.
"I fight for you both also!" insisted Hector. "You know I fight for you and our son."
Andromache shook her head and placed a hand on Hector's cheek. Tears had now gathered in her eyes, but she didn't allow one to trickle down her face. "No you don't Hector, you don't fight for Astyanax and I … if you thought about us then you wouldn't be fighting at all."
"How can you say that?" demanded Hector.
Andromache's hand returned by her side and bowed her head. "I'm sorry Hector … I didn't mean it, I'm just tired." She then wrapped her arms around her husband and quietly cried against his robes.
Distant cries roused Achilles from his sleep; he had chosen to retire to his bed early with a slave girl that night, and moaned loudly at the noise. He rose from his bed and tied a skirt around his waist, leaving his chest bare, and stepped outside of his tent.
The Greek camp was completely drowned in darkness, except for scattered torches and fires. Achilles turned to where the noise came from and saw his faithful myrmidons heading towards him. He saw that they carried something but at first he couldn't decipher what, until they had drawn closer.
Achilles dropped down onto his knees and felt the softness of the sand against his legs. He glared at the myrmidons and saw that they carried the body of Patroclus. He felt his throat constrict and tried to rise to his feet.
The myrmidons avoided Achilles' glaring eyes towards them, and only one of them, Eudorus, was brave enough to step forward.
"My lord," said Eudorus, and nervously watched as Achilles glared at Patroclus's body that now lay on the sand, "Patroclus … he … he is dead."
Achilles was silent and stared at the body of his friend. He walked towards the body of Patroclus and knelt down beside it.
"Prince Hector … he … he killed Patroclus," continued Eudorus.
Achilles closed his eyes, competing with the tears that wished to flow from him. Patroclus had been his friends for years; Patroclus was always the one to sooth his foul moods with words of wisdom and advise.
"I told him to only drive the Trojans away from our ships," whispered Achilles and he stared with wide eyes at the body of Patroclus. "I told him not to go in pursuit of them!"
"I am sorry, my lord," said Eudorus sadly.
"You're sorry?" Achilles suddenly roared. He rose to his feet quickly and grabbed Eudorus's neck. "Why did you let him go after the Trojans, you knew I didn't want him to!"
Eudorus began to choke loudly and clawed at Achilles's wrists.
Achilles glared at Eudorus and knew it wasn't his fault. Achilles just wanted to blame someone now. He released his fingers from Eudorus's neck, and Eudorus fell to the floor, gasping for breath.
For a few moments Achilles stared at the body of Patroclus, and then he turned his attention to the walls of Troy. He imagined Hector within them, and his eyes began to burn with the desire of revenge.
A/N: I'm afraid Hector will die in the next chapter, and I'll put a warning at the beginning of it in case any of you don't wish to read it. Thank you for all of the reviews:)
Queen Arwen – Thank you for the review! I'm really glad you liked the last chapter, thank you:)
Donna Lynn – I'm really glad you love this, and enjoyed the last chapter, thanks:) Thanks for the review too!
Priestess of the Myrmidon – I'm really glad that you enjoyed the battle in the last chapter; I was worried about it so thank you:) Thank you for the review!
Topez Grl – Thank you for the review:) I'm really glad you like my portrayal on Achilles and Patroclus, thank you!
Kitera – I'm really glad you loved the last chapter, thank you:) And thank you for the review!
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