A/N: This chapter doesn't have much Hector/Andromache. Sorry! But it has some necessary things in it that should be a decent filler for the time being.
Special thanks to Donna Lynn, whose recommendation shaped a couple portions of this chapter.

Note: I've found Lampsascus on a couple maps, but not many; I'm thinking it's equivalent is Percote. If you want some geographical locations, just e-mail me or something, because it won't let me put the URLs up. I have a couple maps thatgive you the location of Andromache's Thebe, Troy, Mytilene, etc.

Chapter Eight
Advancements
o0o

"Tell me, Princess. What do you know of Mytilene?"

Andromache took a sip of wine from her goblet, feeling Corydon's eyes on her as she did so. Metis stood in the corner, acting as their chaperone, as they dined without any members of Andromache's family in attendance for the first time.

She swallowed the liquid and set the cup down delicately, reinforcing the calmness with which she had held herself all morning. "I may honestly say that I don't know much outside of what has been told to me by my older brothers and yourself." Not that you, dear betrothed, have told me much of my future home, she thought rather sarcastically, but her thought did not show itself on her face.

"I see," he murmured, standing and walking over to the balcony, leaning on a pillar and staring at the surrounding landscape. "Would you like to hear of it?"

Andromache instantly saw the opening to at least attempt to build a bridge of peace over the gap of hostility between them. "Yes, please," she answered, folding her hands in her lap and listening attentively.

"Mytilene is very different from Thebe," he said, still looking out over the balcony. "Warm. Moist. And it may rain at any time of the day."

"Does the climate shift bother you greatly?" Thebe, being closer tot eh mountains and near Mount Ida, was much cooler than many, more coastal, places. Thanks to the fact that Ida was the tallest mountain between Thebe and the coast, they still received their fair share of rain, evident by the fact that there was a lake right at Thebe's edge, which flowed into the Scamander. Streams from Mount Ida also flowed into the lake, but a large majority of it was thanks to rain.

"At times."

There was a heavy, awkward silence for a moment, and then she said, "Where is Mytilene?"

"Southwest of here, on the isle of Lesbos," he replied.

"Near the sea?"

"Right at the edge, Princess."

The silence fell again, and suddenly Corydon turned to look at her. His face was unreadable, and her hands tightened around each other. "The customs of my home are unlike your customs," he said, gazing at her inscrutably with his arms crossed over his chest. "Here, not only yourself, but women as a whole, have a great deal of freedom. This is unnatural. In Mytilene," he continued, moving forward as Andromache paled slightly at the description, "you will never be without an escort who will not hesitate to use force against you should you prove to be unchaste. You will not waste your time on menial tasks. Your first duty will be to provide me with an heir. I am by no means the first in line for the throne, but my branch will be carried on."

The manner in which he uttered the words of her providing of an heir frightened her. "What if I were unable to provide you with an heir?" she asked, desperately attempting to make her question appear nonchalant. It worked, to some extent.

"Depending on the circumstances, any number of things. For the first year, punishment would be left to me. Afterward, you would more than likely be put to death for insolence." He gave her a slight smirk as a wave of nausea crashed over her. "Does that answer your question?"

"Yes," she replied weakly. "Yes, it does."

Corydon gave her an odd look. "Are you feeling well?"

She couldn't get her voice to work. The panic that threatened to swamp her mind had begun to affect her, and Andromache struggled to appear calm. "I-"

"Go rest yourself, Princess," he said unkindly, turning away from her. "There is a festival to attend tonight, and I expect you to be attentive even while you are not active. You should begin adjusting to your duties as my wife now, so that they will not be a shock later."

"Yes, of course," she murmured as she stood, trembling. "Will I be dining with you tonight?"

He looked back to her, his gaze assessing, then said, "No. But you will dine with me tomorrow morning."

"Of course." She nodded her head deeply, then left the room.

Andromache began looking for her mother instantly, and found Anatola in the chambers that she shared with her husband. By the time Andromache had stumbled into the room, there were tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Anatola looked at her daughter in shock, having not expected to see her until much later in the day. The woman started to stand, but stilled when she saw the look on her daughter's face.

"Mother," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I am going to die."

Anatola was on her feet in an instant, rushing over to her daughter, who crumpled into her embrace. "Dearest, you really mustn't say such things-"

"No, Mother, you don't understand," Andromache said fearfully, gripping Anatola's hand tightly. "I am going to die."

Anatola led her daughter over to the bed and sat her down on it, then took her place beside the princess. "Explain this to me, dearest."

"Corydon explained to me the role I will play in Mytilene," Andromache explained. "If I do not bear children within a year, I will be killed for insolence. During that year, my punishment is left to my husband."

The Queen of Thebe stared at her daughter, horrible realization dawning on her. She slowly straightened. "You don't know that you will be faced with such a situation."

"You are the only woman to give birth to more than two children!" Andromache cried. "No other woman in our family has accomplished this, let alone had a child within the first year of marriage." She shook her head. "It is very likely that I will never have children. Mother… I am going to die."

Anatola placed a hand on her daughter's cheek, brushing the auburn curls away. "Do not fret over such things, dearest. Have faith." She stood and began to pull back the covers. "Sleep now."

"But-"

"Rest, Andromache. You will need it."

Andromache did as she was ordered, lying down in her parents' bed for the first time since she was very young and sleeping away her fears.

o0o

Anatola watched her daughter for quite some time, considering this new development. It was never truly considered, Andromache's significantly slight ability to bear children. For years, it had been assumed that, since she was to be marrying the youngest son, her disadvantage would not be weighed against her.

Perhaps the Mytilians do not know, she thought rather hopefully, and directly left and went to find her husband.

She did not have to look far to find him; he was speaking with several of his advisors when she approached, and all of her husband's men bowed to her. She nodded to them then said to Eetion, "I must speak with you. It concerns our daughter."

Andromache being his only daughter, Eetion had always had a bit of a soft spot for her; thus, any time their youngest child was mention, he was willing to drop whatever it was he was doing to resolve whatever problems his daughter may have had. Seeing the look on his wife's face, he knew that she had serious matters to discuss, and so excused himself from his company to walk with his wife.

"What is it?"

"We have sent out daughter to her death."

"What?"

Anatola faced her husband directly, grabbing his hands and fighting back tears. "In Mytilene, if an heir is not provided within the first year of marriage, the woman is put to death for insolence." The look on Eetion's face was nothing short of horrified terror. "We both know that Andromache will be fortunate to ever bear children, let alone within the first year of marriage."

"I do not believe," Eetion said slowly, "the Mytilians know of Andromache's delicacy."

"Then perhaps we still have hope."

Both of them knew that this was unlikely.

o0o

That night, Alexander sat in the place of honor during the banquet. The third night's entertainment had been altered in order to feature the royal guests. Rather than the great mingling that took place in the square before the palace and organized games and competition, a large feast had been prepared, and organized entertainment had been prepared. Andromache did not know what had been arranged, but she was beginning to think that she was better off not knowing.

Corydon had wasted no time in "helping her to adjust to acting as his wife;" already she felt degraded and undermined, and her emotions were tucked away behind her bland, unfeeling mask. It was no help that, three seats away from her, Hector sat with Cloris by his side. Her friend, the Princess of Lampsascus, looked beautiful, with her shining black waves organized artfully and her crimson clothing highlighting her eyes, which were hazel and lined with kohl, and her naturally red lips.

Andromache could honestly say that she felt no jealousy, even if that was only because she knew she had absolutely no right to be envious. But the idea that she was beside Corydon, who was an expert at making her feel completely worthless without putting forth any effort, was rather galling, when one of her very dearest friends (she refused to think of him as anything else, for fear of her sanity) sat only a few seats away.

Alexander stood, commanding the attention of the room. "Friends, countrymen, honored guests!" he cried, opening his arms wide in greeting and beaming at the all. "We of Thebe humbly welcome you to the third night of our modest harvest celebration." There was an uproar of cheers and applause at this, and the table shook as many men pounded on it with all their might. "It is our hope that you have all enjoyed your stay, and will continue to do so over the rest of the duration of your visit. Now, I ask that you eat your fill, and enjoy what we have planned for you!"

There was an even louder eruption of cheers as Alexander gestured to the large doorway across from him. The doors were flung open, and at least a dozen scantily clad women entered, all of them bearing large amounts of braids and heavy jewelry, but not much by way of clothing.

Andromache immediately looked to her brother; the look on his face was neutral to many, but she saw that he was not only taken aback by the form of entertainment provided, but even slightly irritated by it. She looked away from Alexander, quietly sending him her sympathy. She was unable to look at the dancers as the music began and they started their entertainment; it was a mortification to the female race.

She endured it for some time, listening to the men speak of various things, before she finally felt that she could endure no more. "Might I be excused, my lord?" she asked her betrothed quietly.

Corydon looked at her, surveying her from top to bottom. Andromache felt that she could meet no one's eyes, let alone his, and so did not return his gaze. "Yes," he said graciously, and Andromache was shocked into looking up at him. "Do not forget that you will be eating with me tomorrow."

"I won't. Thank you, my lord," she said, truly meaning it.

She stood and escaped quickly while she still had the chance. She went out into the gardens, taking comfort in her sanctuary. Not a moment later, however, she found that she wasn't alone.

"Andromache?"

She turned and saw Cloris standing a few yards behind her, looking terribly anxious. Andromache was instantly concerned. "What is it?"

"I believe…" Cloris looked at her, hesitating on the verge of saying whatever it was that was bothering her. Andromache simply waited. "Wait. Could I ask you a question?"

"Of course," Andromache replied, a concern frown creasing her brow as she stood. "Ask me anything."

"Have you ever been in a dilemma," she asked hesitantly, "in which you wanted something, but knew you could never have it because of what has already been agreed for you?"

How was she to answer that. Andromache knew that she had to tread carefully, or else risk giving her secret away. That was something that could not happen. "Yes," she replied carefully. "Why do you ask?"

Cloris seemed about to speak, but then she stopped and forced a smile. "Nothing, Andromache. Might I sit with you?"

"Of course."

She spent the rest of the evening with Cloris, but remained in the garden long after the Princess of Lampsascus left. What had she meant by her initial question? She would have to ask Erastus of it later-
No, she couldn't ask Erastus. Cloris has behaved as if her words were a great secret, and so Andromache would respect that. She frowned down at her hands, contemplating this latest development.

"You look troubled."

She looked up, and there stood Hector, watching her with his arms crossed over his chest. Andromache smiled. "I do not mean to," she pointed out as he came forward.

"But you do?" He stopped before her, watching her eyes carefully. "What is it?"

Andromache shook her head. "Nothing." She held out a hand. "Walk with me, please?"

o0o

Corydon was late for their breakfast the next morning. It was very near to midday when he finally emerged, looking ruffled. Andromache could smell the perfume on him, and she struggled to find at least a sense of semi-equilibrium. "I trust," she managed to say after several moments of silence, "that you enjoyed the feast last night."

"Oh, yes," he said, rather absently, to be admitted. He raised his glass to her and said, "The entertainment chosen was particularly enjoyable."

It was such an obtusely cruel thing to say, and they both knew it. He was attempting to elicit a response from her, something to use against her. She gave him no such satisfaction. Rather, she smiled and said, "I am glad."

"Now, tell me, Princess. How many brothers do you have?"

"Seven. All of them are older than I." Andromache looked down at her plate, on which was nothing but small amounts of fruit. She picked up a grape, but did not eat it.

"Are all of them married?"

She looked up at her betrothed, wondering at his meaning. "No," she said guardedly. "Othello and Orestes are both unmarried; Talos was only married a month ago."

"I see."

Corydon gave no explanation, and Andromache could devise no reasoning for his question. "May I enquire as to why you ask?" she asked him after some time.

"No," he said bluntly.

Andromache looked away. "I apologize."

There was another stretch of silence, then Corydon sighed, exasperated, and said, "I ask because I have concerns about the Princess of Lampsascus."

"What?"

She hadn't been able to stop herself. Corydon looked as if he was going to shout in outrage at such a bold statement from her, but he regained his composure. "I have reason to believe," he said tersely, "that the Princess of Lampsascus is beginning to question the marriage agreement between her home and Troy."

She looked away, forcing herself to regulate her breathing. In, out. In, out. "And how do my brothers fit into that speculation?"

"I believe that one of them has affected her decision, naturally." He looked at her, and Andromache met his eyes out of fear that, if she didn't, she would show just how much the conversation had shaken her. "Is there offense in this?"

She returned her eyes to her plate of fruit. "No, my lord."

"In truth," he said, leaning back in his chair and observing her, "I can hardly blame her. There are times when I wonder if the Prince of Troy truly is worthy. But then, there are also times when I wonder if the young Princes of Thebe are worthy, so I suppose it all balances out in the end."

He studied her closely, and she knew that he was attempting yet again to elicit a response from her. She simply gazed back at him levelly, making no reply, and her expression was bland. There was no possible way for him to "misconstrue" her body language or facial expression and suddenly become hostile.

This, apparently, was galling for him, because his face twisted into a mask of anger and he jumped to his feet, knocking over the chair. Andromache flinched when the furniture hit the floor with a loud thwack!, and she watched him cautiously as he stalked away several feet. Suddenly he spun to face her. "Can you not see that I want out of this as much as you?" he roared. "Do you truly think I want to have a connection to Thebe, of all places?"

Andromache clutched at the edge of the table, staring up at him with wide eyes. When she did not reply, he strode over and, with a violent shove, pushed the table out of the way. The food and glasses were shaken ferociously; one glass fell over, soaking everything in wine the color of fresh blood. She pressed her back into the chair fearfully as Corydon place a hand on either side of her head and leaned forward.

"You," he said fiercely, "are my future wife, and will behave as such. When I ask you something, you will answer. Do you understand me?"

Andromache drew in a slow, shaking breath, forcing herself to calm down. "Yes, my lord," she said quietly after a small moment.

Corydon abruptly straightened, turning and walking away from her. "Keep in mind, Princess," he said coldly, "that you will have a role to play at all times. Should you not play that role, it will be viewed as insolence. Insolence from a woman is intolerable." He waved a hand at her dismissively. "Leave. And do not enter my sight for the rest of this day."

She sat frozen for a moment, then suddenly was on her feet and running. She hid herself in her room securely, and when it came time for the festival, she claimed illness. She did not leave her room.

o0o

"Unfortunately, gentlemen, the Mytilian crisis is no more over than it was four night ago. A new development in the knowledge of Mytilene's traditions has given us all cause for serious concern. It is a typical practice to have a woman killed for insolence should she not bear a child within the first year of marriage. We must now inform the ambassadors from Mytilene of our princess's condition, for sake of her life," Eetion said to the men gathered in the room with him. They all sat on either side of a large, rectangular pool, and behind them were many tall pillars that stood from floor to ceiling.

Alexander sat on their father's right, Demos on his left, and the rest of his sons, should they choose to attend the council meetings, sat in the highest places on honor around the center pool. This was where Erastus sat, surveying the reactions of his companions' faces as they absorbed this news. Many of them looked angry, others slightly afraid, others disgusted.

Erastus could hardly blame them. Being Eetion's only daughter, Andromache was dear to the people of Thebe in a way that none of Eetion's other children could be. Not that any of them would begrudged her of it; if anything, they had encouraged it. He had known for quite some time that this marriage arrangement for his sister was a deplorable one: being the commander of Thebe's army, which had begun to grown in size and skill under his leadership, he knew more of the personalities of other nations' rulers than any of the men sitting on his father's council, and he had known of Prince Corydon's personality for years. No matter what he said by way of pleading his sister's case, however, the marriage agreement would not, and could not, be annulled. Now, what he had known all along was beginning to make itself known to the men who had so adamantly fought against him for so long.

"If we inform them of our princess's delicacy, what will prevent the Mytilians from violating the agreement and attacking?"

"An excellent point," Cohn, the brother just below Erastus in age, said with a nod. "I won't let them kill my sister, but Thebe will be hard pressed to survive a lengthy war."

"Our military is stronger than many believe," Erastus pointed out. "It was weakened by the war with Lyrnessus ten years ago, particularly when Adramytium ambushed us, but has since grown stronger. Should the gods bless us and luck be on our side, we could withstand war. However," he paused, knowing his next words would doom his sister. "It would be at a very great price, and Thebe would never be the same."

There was a great deal of muttering and murmuring at this. Erastus watched them, hoping to any listening deity that they would not completely disregard his sister's fate. After several moments of individual discussion, his father's war advisor stood, holding up a hand for silence.

"I believe that, with Erastus in command, we would have the strength to withstand and defeat any attack, including an attack from Mytilene," he announced.

"Speak with the Mytilian ambassadors, and listen to their responses," Alexander said quietly to his father, who nodded and stood.

Erastus stood respectfully as the other men did and watched his father as he stepped from his high seat and walked forward. "We will do as my son has suggested, and will do our best to work things to everyone's best interest. However," he gazed around at them all, his eyes piercing, "we should prepare ourselves to choose the safety of one over the safety of the other."

He nodded to them with a sense of finality and left. In his wake was left a great deal of conversation and debate, but Erastus found that he could not actively participate in any of it. He hardly acknowledged his brothers as he left the chamber, heading for his rooms, not pausing for anything.

Megara was sitting with their son on the balcony, playing a sort of hand game that he did not recognize. He stood silently for a moment, watching them as they finished their game and Andreas crawled into his mother's lap. Megara settled her arms about their two-year-old, cradling him lovingly. The sight of his wife and son reminded him cruelly of just what was at stake in the drama that was unfolding before him.

Erastus knew that he did not have only his sister to think of. He had a people, but more importantly, a family, to consider. Were his family to fall, he would never survive. He knew that without Megara and Andreas, his life would end, whether or not Thebe stood.

Megara turned and smiled up at him. "You do realize that it is rude to eavesdrop."

He smiled in return, despite himself, and walked forward to greet her. "Is it truly eavesdropping when you are in your own home?" he inquired with a raised brow.

"If you are not in the conversation," she informed him, "then it is eavesdropping."

"Is it then?" He leaned down and kissed her, resting a hand on the gentle curve of her neck when he straightened. "Thank you for correcting me."

"That is something I shall always do." Megara stood, adjusting her grip on their son. "I do not believe I will be attending the festival this evening," she said as she went into their room, taking their now-sleeping son over to his cradle.

"Why?"

Megara paused slightly in her movements, then finished settling their son down and straightened, turning to face Erastus with a very serious expression. "I can no longer stand to see your sister as she has been."

Erastus sighed heavily, putting a hand to his head, and sat on their bed. "It is no easier for me, I assure you," he commented dryly.

She sat beside him, slipping her arm through his and smoothing the cotton of his clothing gently. "If only there was something to be done for it," she murmured. "This is harder for you than it ever will be for me."

"We will endure," he replied. Then he turned to look at her, smiling gently. "Perhaps I shall spend the evening with my family tonight."

"I believe we would enjoy that, love."