The sun began to set far across the sea of Troy when the Greek and Trojan soldiers ended their fighting for the day. The Greeks returned to their camps, while the Trojans marched into their city, some carrying the wounded and dead.
Paris led the Trojans into the city on foot, as his chariot had been damaged, and his hands were smeared with blood. His eyes were wide, filled with the horrors he had seen on the battlefield that day. He had never taken life before this day, he had never watched the life fade from someone's eyes, and he had never felt someone die in his arms.
Helen had not been able to watch Paris fight for long, she had flinched every time she saw anyone strike at him and the heat was causing her to feel faint. She had returned to her chamber to rest, but now stood alone in the hall facing the stables, waiting for Paris to return.
After briefly speaking with the captains of the army, Paris was given a horse and now rode through the city and to the royal stables at the palace. He quickly dismounted his horse after reaching his destination and handed it to a stable hand before walking to the palace.
Radiating in an orange robe rimmed with gold thread, Helen watched as Paris walked towards her, his head lowered. She sighed deeply when she saw him, relieved that he was safe and with her again.
"I'm so glad you're safe," said Helen as she rushed to him. She could see the blood on his hands but did not care and threw her arms around him.
Paris hesitantly put his arms around Helen; he felt as if the blood was burning into his flesh and was desperate to wash it away. He pulled away from Helen and made to walk with her to their chamber, but she stopped him.
"There's something you need to know," said Helen seriously, and she saw the sudden alarm on Paris's face. "Achilles came to the palace today, I saw him."
"What?" exclaimed Paris, and he narrowed his eyes in confusion. He shook his head slowly, dismissing Helen's words, but then he saw the truth in her eyes.
"Is everyone all right?" asked Paris, panic spreading across his face.
Helen rested her palm on Paris's cheek. "Everyone is fine, my love, he did not come to hurt anyone."
"Then why did he come?" Paris asked, feeling his breath quicken.
"He came to speak with your father, I do not know why," Helen answered truthfully. She had only seen Achilles be escorted to the hall where Priam was, and she had heard no word from the maids or nobles as to what had took place.
"I have to see my father," said Paris and he pushed past Helen.
"You can't, he's in a meeting," said Helen, and she then watched as Paris continued to walk away from her.
"I don't care," Paris whispered angrily. He quickly made his way to the hall where his father and the Elders of Troy would be, pushing past servants in his haste.
The eyes of Priam and the Elders of Troy fell on Paris as he entered the hall without admittance. They watched as the prince marched up to King Priam, leaving only a few feet between the father and son.
"Achilles … Achilles was here?" exclaimed Paris, panting slightly. He gritted his teeth in anger, anger at not being notified sooner, and anger that his brother's murderer had walked through the palace.
"Yes," Priam answered quietly, now understanding his son's behaviour. "He wished to speak with me."
"And you let him?" said Paris incredulously, releasing his anger onto his father in the form of words. "You let Hector's murderer in this palace?"
The Elders of Troy watched Paris and their king in silence, their eyes wide at seeing Priam spoken to in such a manner by his son.
"Yes," answered Priam, weakly. He was too tired to argue, he had lived through countless wars and battles but now his strength was declining.
"What did he want?" asked Paris, curious to hear what answer his father would give him because he could not imagine that Achilles merely came to Troy to talk, Achilles was a man who dealt death, not words.
Priam sighed heavily, fearful of how Paris would at first react until he knew everything. "He wished to ask for Polyxena's hand in marriage."
"What?" blurted Paris, confusion in his voice. "He … he doesn't even know Polyxena … he can't marry her." He looked around at the faces of the hall, looking to see if they had heard what he had, and that he was not going insane. "You did not grant his wish, did you?"
"I did," said Priam, and he opened his mouth to continue speaking but Paris interrupted him.
"You're going to let that man marry Polyxena?" snarled Paris. "After all he has done, you'll still let him marry your daughter? Have you forgotten about Hector … are you even considering Polyxena?"
Paris did not allow his father to speak; instead he showed his blood covered hands to the Elders and to his father. "This is the blood of Greeks, but it is mainly the blood of a Trojan soldier that I held in my arms!" He paused to catch his breath and look at those around him, appalled by the looks of disgust on the Elders' faces. "It is because of Achilles and his Greeks that our men die each day. Hector is dead and with him the army's spirit went also, all because of Achilles!"
"Granting Achilles's wish was the only way I could make him come to the city again without fear of assault," said Priam, as he rose from his throne. "Achilles will pay for what he has caused us, and he will pay with his life tomorrow."
Paris again looked to the elders and knew that his father spoke the truth and lowered to his knees. "I am sorry, father. Forgive me for speaking to you so harshly." And he looked up to see his father walking towards him.
"Hector would have been proud to see you fight today," said Priam and he lifted his son to his feet, "as proud as I am." He looked at his son and saw that Paris had finally passed into manhood, and that he was a man willing to defend his country.
Priam led his son to the throne beside his own and slowly lowered down into his own. He looked around to all of the Elders in the room and spoke: "Tomorrow Polyxena and I, with a selection of guards, will meet Achilles at the gates." He then turned to look at Paris. "You have shown your great worth today, my son, and I want you to be the one who kills Achilles, it is what Hector would have wanted."
Paris nodded slowly, shocked at being granted such a task. It was terrible to think that killing could be an honour, but it was to Paris, it was an honour to be chosen to kill the man who had killed his brother.
"No one should be told of this," said Solon and he looked to the other Elders for support, "if the people were to know what we have planned then they could ruin everything with their gossiping."
A gentle murmur of agreement broke out among the Elders and they turned towards their king.
"Yes, you're right," said Priam and nodded slightly. "My wife will need to be told, naturally, and Polyxena will need to know, as will Cassandra, and …,"
"And Andromache," Paris interjected, finishing his father's words.
Priam nodded. He hoped that Andromache would find some comfort when Achilles was dead; it tore at his heart to see her suffer so much. He knew how much Andromache had loved his son and understood the pain she felt, because he felt it also.
"I will tell Andromache," said Paris quietly. He felt it only right that he should be the one to tell her, after all that had happened.
Immediately after speaking with his father and washing his hands, Paris walked through the halls of the palace, heading for Andromache's chamber. He had never felt such dread or sadness in his heart until now, even though Achilles would die, it did not change that he still walked free and had come to the palace.
Whispering servants passed Paris, no doubt speaking of how Achilles had come to the palace, but he ignored them and silently prayed that word had not reached Andromache because he knew how much it would hurt her, especially as she would not know the whole of it since no one did other than the Elders and those Priam chose to know.
Andromache's chamber door soon came into sight and Paris halted in front of it. He inhaled deeply and knocked on the door.
Xanthe soon opened the door and smiled sadly when she saw Paris. She had been instructed by Andromache not to allow admittance into the chamber to anyone and she did not like to refuse those who cared for the princess.
"Princess Andromache does not wish to see anyone, my lord," said Xanthe and made to shut the door but Paris pushed onto it.
"I have to see her," said Paris sternly, "I need to. Now allow me to enter." The tone in his voice left no room for discussion and Xanthe opened the door for him to enter.
The chamber was exactly how it had been when Hector was alive, except his robes weren't strewn around the room and there seemed no life left in it. No torches were lit, only light coming from the balcony lit the room, which added to the depressing atmosphere in the room.
Paris stepped deeper into the room and saw that Andromache was sitting out on the balcony. He saw that she did not notice him and so continued to stare at her for a few moments.
A pale yellow robe, a robe Paris could not remember seeing Andromache wear, flowed down her slender form. He stepped closer to the balcony, careful not to disturb Astyanax, who was sleeping.
"It's a lovely day," said Paris as he stepped out onto the balcony. He saw that Andromache jumped with fright and he leaned against the wall, facing her.
"How did you get in here?" Andromache asked and she turned her head to look into the chamber and saw that Xanthe had left.
"Xanthe let me in," answered Paris. He sighed and then spoke again: "Andromache, I need to talk to you."
Andromache rose to her feet. "No, please just go, Paris." She didn't want to speak to anyone; she just wanted to be alone.
"I must need to speak with you," said Paris urgently. He stepped closer to Andromache and gently pushed her down into chair.
"Why?" asked Andromache, her eyes narrowed in confusion. She tried to stand again but Paris pushed her down and knelt on one knee in front of her.
"This morning," said Paris quietly and he lowered his head so he did not have to look into Andromache's eyes, "A … Achilles came to the palace."
Confusion swept like a veil over Andromache's face. She stared at Paris, unable to speak because she didn't know what to say. Achilles to be in the palace seemed like madness to her, it didn't even seem possible for him to enter the city, let alone the palace.
"You're mistaken," Andromache said suddenly, her voice shaking slightly, "of course he wasn't in the palace, who told you this?"
"My father spoke with Achilles," replied Paris and he looked up to face Andromache, "that is why he came to the palace, to speak with my father."
"No," said Andromache firmly and she shook her head. She looked away from Paris, unable to look at the sad glances he directed at her. She inhaled deeply and pulled a mask of composure across her face.
"Why did he come?" she finally asked.
"He wishes to marry Polyxena," said Paris.
Andromache sharply turned her head to look at Paris. "He … he can't marry her, he doesn't know her … he … he killed … they can't marry." She tore her eyes away from Paris again, feeling tears creep into her eyes at the thought of speaking Hector's name.
"Achilles won't marry Polyxena," said Paris. "Father is to have Achilles killed when he comes to the city tomorrow." He deliberately did not say that he was the one that would kill Achilles, not knowing how she would react.
Andromache nodded. She was battling with her grief and so remained silent. She felt her lip begin to quiver and raised a hand to cover her mouth.
"I dreamt of Hector last night," said Paris, unsure of whether he should continue and bowed his head. He wanted to speak about Hector, but always felt constricted to do so in case he caused anyone more pain, and after a few moments he spoke on. "I was riding his horse on the beach and he was furious with me, absolutely livid."
"I'm surprised he didn't kill you," said Andromache, a faint smile widening across her face. She turned to look at Paris, even though tears were still gathered in her eyes.
"He probably would have if Helen hadn't woken me," said Paris, and he saw the smile suddenly vanish from Andromache's head and inwardly cursed himself for speaking of Helen. He knew Andromache, as almost all the women in Troy, disliked Helen.
Andromache was silent for a few moments but then chose to spoke. "I see him everywhere, he's all around me. If I try to reach out and touch him then he goes, it's as if the gods are teasing me." She looked away from Paris as she spoke, almost ashamed to have spoken of something that tortured her.
Paris laid a comforting hand on top of Andromache's.
"You should go now, Helen will be wondering where you are," said Andromache. She did not admit her envy that Helen was still able to worry for the man she loved, while she no longer had Hector to worry about because he was dead.
Paris slowly stood to his feet and left the chamber, kissing Astyanax's forehead before leaving.
Andromache closed her eyes once she finally heard her chamber door close. She exhaled deeply and clutched a hand to her mouth to block the grief that wished to pour from her. She felt so weak and exhausted with grief, exhausted at concealing her emotions.
A few moments passed and Andromache stood to her feet and entered the chamber once more. She lay beside Astyanax and softly stroked his hair, appearing to be completely content, when she was inwardly suffering so much.
A/N: I'm fairly certain that Achilles will die in the next chapter. And thank you for the reviews :)
Priestess of the Myrmidon – Thank you for the review :) I'm glad you loved the last chapter, thank you. I've not seen "Fantastic Four" but I heard it sucked too which is a shame.
Queen Arwen (Spider) – I'm glad you liked the last chapter, thank you and thank you for the review :) Achilles's death is in the next chapter, which I know you're looking forward to ;)
Kitera – I'm glad you liked the long chapter, thank you and thank you for the review! And I'm glad you loved the last chapter, thanks :)
Psalm 136 – Thank you for the review! I'm glad that Achilles character is believable for you, it was a big thing I was worried about, and I'm really glad that you like this, thank you :)