Author's Note: I am so sorry for the delay in updating. Things have been pretty crazy around these parts. Thanks for your reviews! They are extremely helpful and encouraging!
5 years later…
Hector
It was the same dream.
The dream was nothing more then a memory, a wonderful memory at that, but a memory. It was from the early days in our marriage. Days when Andromache and I would pick fights with one another just to go to bed together, although many times we never made it to bed.
There were times in the pools, the beach, stables and the Throne Room.
Those were glorious times, glorious memories. Memories that woke me from a dead sleep in the early hours of the morning. Always the early hours, hours when I was unable to fall back asleep.
Which was exactly how I woke. Gasping for air in the hot humid early morning, covered with a cold sweat. How I wished it were a nightmare. I truly wished it were a nightmare.
When I woke from a nightmare I could go back to sleep.
However, the dreams of Andromache woke me with a desire for one thing, and one thing alone. That one thing could not happen when she was with child, a month from birthing my child.
As horrid as it sounded I wanted nothing more for the child to be born. I wanted the child out of my wife. I didn't dare complain though.
Instead, I took deep breaths and ran my fingers through my hair. I waited until I could breath normally and then I looked over at where Andromache slept beside me.
Andromache was not there.
"Andromache?"
She did not answer me.
I threw my legs over the bed and stood, my eyes scanned our chambers. The small amount of moonlight provided enough light. She was not anywhere within my sight.
"Andromache," I called again, quickly running towards the hall.
Perhaps she was hungry and went to the kitchens.
Then she appeared in the doorway to the room where she kept her loom. An almost annoyed look upon her beautiful face, "What? Why are you up? Did you have another dream?"
I walked to her and her stomach bumped me.
Her narrowed eyes did not look angry, she looked as if she were pouting. I would go mad before the child was born. I wanted nothing more then to shove her against the wall, kiss her, and of course other acts a part of my body wished to take part in. Thank the Gods I did not listen to that part of me very often, I would have ended up like Paris.
"Yes."
Her soft hands reached up and touched my face. Cupped my cheeks and smoothed down over my neck. "It is just two more months Hector. Two more and then we'll be able to be together again."
"Two?"
She pinched me and took her hands away, "Yes two. My body will need a month to heal. If you think you're touching me once I give birth, you had better make your peace with the Gods."
Inwardly I swore, I had angered her. It was a bad thing to anger Andromache when she was with child. I watched as she turned and waddled into her room. Lit by dozens of lamps and candles.
Cautiously, I leant in the doorway, "Why don't you come to bed with me. I'll sleep better."
She plopped down in front of her loom on her large pillow, "I'm busy."
Paris was right. Pregnancy had turned her into a bear.
"Andromache," I begged.
To which she informed me, "I am making a blanket for our child. You don't want our child to be cold, do you?"
Definitely comparable to a bear, "No. Of course not. But would you not want to work on that when the sun shines in your balcony?"
Her hands stopped and she turned her head to look at me. Her soft brown eyes narrowed, "Do you really want my company? I hog the bed and wake up every time your child kicks me, and then you wake. You would sleep undisturbed if you were alone."
She was right.
She did hog the bed.
Whenever the baby woke her up, I woke up too.
I knew I had to give a convincing argument. "Andromache, love, when will I get another chance to share a pregnancy with you? For all we know I may be away if you become pregnant with another. I want to enjoy this miracle while I can."
She stared at me as if I had grown a second head.
At that she threw up her hands in surrender, "Fine! Have it your way. Just help me to my feet."
I went to my wife and wrapped my arms under hers, then I pulled her up to her feet. Once she was steady I slowly let go of her. She then turned and told me, "It's your loss. Your child is really kicking tonight. He'll be a wonderful horseman at this rate."
