Authors note: The italics in this chapter are the Gods visiting the mortals they so dearly love.
Hector got to his feet, pushing himself up and away from his little child. The Gods had not heard his plea, or they were unable to help. In these darks times, where he felt so many burdens upon his broad shoulders, Hector Prince of Troy could not help but feel that perhaps his father was wrong. There were no gods. All these lives being taken away, families torn apart. Where were the Gods? Why did they not help? His mind came up with two answers, but neither of them would he speak aloud. The Gods were not real, he decided. Or else they were so cruel that they ruined our lives to amuse themselves.
"Hector, you are going mad." He sighed, running a hand through his brown locks. He certainly felt it. With one last look to the sleeping Astyanax, Hector made his way from the small room, closing the door behind him. He rested his hand upon the handle, leaning his head against the cool wood. The tears that had threatened him all night silently crept down his cheeks, marking his tanned skin with stains of the toil his heart felt.
"Such a sad song." Aphrodite sighed as she rested herself against the wall, watching Hector with the clearest blue eyes. Her own tears crept down her flawless skin as she listened to the silent sound of Hectors heart. She could feel it. Every inch of pain he felt, she felt it. The doubt that lingered in him, it was in her too. Her golden silks billowed around her slender form as she held her hands before her, looking away from this man.
"Indeed, dear Aphrodite." Pallas Athene spoke, stepping up to the Goddess of Desire. Compared to the beautiful Goddess of Love, Pallas Athene was plain. Her grey eyes were set in a slightly tanned face, not at all like the flawless pale skin Aphrodite was blessed with. And instead of the blonde curls that ran down Aphrodite's back like silk, Pallas Athene had raven locks, straight and bland. But she had something the flighty Goddess did not. Knowledge. The Goddess of Wisdom, though she had been foolish of late.
"Why are you here sister?" Aphrodite questioned, turning to face Pallas Athene. She was on their side, the side that tried to tear her great lovers apart. Menelaus and Agamemnon were trying to take Helen! She was dear Paris' and would stay here. But after all the protests her heart made, she could not drown out that one voice that sounded in her head.
Your fault, all of this, it said. If you had not cast that spell, perhaps these lives would have been saved. She knew. Aphrodite knew this was on her shoulders. Did Paris even love Helen? Or was it all a game to him? And then there was Hector... She had ignored this one, this prince. Her eyes had wandered to Paris, so fair and handsome. She concentrated so much on what she had in store for him, she had forgotten about this passion. Andromache and Hector. This match was not hers; the Goddess had no part in this.
No, Aphrodite thought. This was the doing of mortals. But even so, she had ruined this for them, the only pure love in Troy. And she, Goddess of Love, had destroyed it, sentenced Hector to death, sending Andromache with him.
Pallas Athene did not answer but instead walked up to Hector and laid a hand on his shoulder. Aphrodite watched this with interest, a haunting of a smile crossing her ruby lips as Hector shivered a little. "It is strange," Pallas Athene spoke, her voice cool and not at all like her own. "We Gods, we foresee so much. These mortals delude themselves into believing they have an inch of control over their lives. But we, we plan their fates. Despite this," she paused and withdrew her hand, holding it to her as if burnt. "We truly see so little."
Aphrodite failed to see the point to her ramblings, and crossed her arms across her chest. Pallas Athene sighed and stepped back up to Aphrodite, drawing her into her embrace.
"Sister, you know what is to happen," she whispered in Aphrodite's ear. "And we cannot stop it. The sides have been chosen, the path has been paved. We have to walk it Aphrodite. We have our differences, yet in this time, my heart is joined." Letting her go, Pallas Athene looked once more to Hector. "He will die. His wife's heart will die with him. For that, I mourn with Troy." She sighed and turned to Aphrodite. "Goodnight, dearest Aphrodite. May the Gods look upon this, and tremble with what pain they cause to these creatures. No more. After this, no more."
And she was gone.
The cold that Hector felt passed, and once again he found himself alone.