So this chapter...well, it got a little out of hand. It turned itself into a two-parter, the demanding little thing. Anyway, enjoy! Please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Troy or any of the affiliated characters

Chapter 13: A Blow to the Heart, part 1

"I find it interesting that I still manage to receive some kind of injury even when I'm not fighting," Patroclus said from his seat on the sand as he observed his seaweed-wrapped hand.

Wading in the water, Adara laughed, glad that Patroclus's good humor had returned the day after the events. She feared awkward conversations after what had happened the night before. But she had only wasted the time she'd spent worrying; he seemed to be back to his usual self - with an injured hand, that is.

After a night of the seaweed, his burns had made incredible progress. "It feels normal," he had said, surprised, touching his hand. "And it doesn't hurt at all."

"That's because you're unique," she had reminded him.

She came back out of the water now and sat next to him on the sand. She unwrapped the seaweed and turned his hand over, seeing mostly red, raw skin, but also the works of a new, healthy layer.

"Well?" he asked as she rewrapped his hand with the seaweed she had just collected.

"Already healing," she confirmed. "It looks good." He raised an amused eyebrow. "All things considered, I mean."

Patroclus, smiling, was about to make a reply when a commotion on the hill grabbed both of their attentions. The two rose and climbed the sand dune to where the men were watching the battle.

"What's going on?" Patroclus asked Eudorus. The man pointed, and the newcomers followed his finger to where there was a Trojan soldier supporting an injured comrade. Adara squinted against the sun and recognized them as Tondor and Phalyx, two sons of an advisor to the king, like her father was.

Coming in on them fast was a group of four soldiers that had spotted the weak target. "Outnumbered four to one," she heard Patroclus say with disgust. "Cowards." Tondor let go of his brother and turned to face his attackers, sword drawn. Adara looked away.

"Who's that?" someone asked, prompting her to turn back and see.

"I've been watching him for a while," Patroclus said. "Even outnumbered I think those Trojans have a good chance with him." When Adara finally found the soldier that came to the rescue, she felt a surge of pride at what she saw and at Patroclus's words.

"Any idea who he is?" Eudorus asked.

Patroclus shrugged. "He's not Hector."

Adara held her head up and answered, "His name is Carius."

"Your brother?" Patroclus asked her quietly. She nodded, though she couldn't bring herself to watch the fight. After a moment, he said, "You can look now," and she saw Carius helping to support Phalyx as they ran away from the site of the four fallen Greek soldiers. "He's quite the swordsman."

"He and Hector trained together growing up," she explained. A lump formed in her throat and she felt a pull in her chest as Carius pushed Tondor and Phalyx into the arms of other Trojans waiting outside the walls. He saw them to safety before returning to the battle.

She soon realized, though, that she and the rest of the men on the hill weren't the only ones watching him. Her stomach dropped at the sight of the largest man she'd ever seen approaching her brother, who, though muscled and almost six feet tall, looked like a child in comparison.

"Great Ajax," one man said. "This should be interesting. I'm betting on him."

"I don't know," a second one thought aloud, "this kid is good."

"Glaudius has a point," a third commented.

The first one shook his head. "He'll put up a good fight, but this is Ajax. He always wins."

Adara noticeably stiffened and her heart pounded frantically in her chest. She was sure Patroclus heard it, and that was why he asked, "Are you all right? We can leave."

She shook her head; she couldn't leave her brother when he need her there the most, even if he was completely unaware of it. "I'm fine," she lied, jumping at the sound of the two swords meeting each other. They seemed to ring the loudest and stand out even in the midst of all the other ongoing fights. She couldn't be sure, but the battle seemed to be moving in slow motion, dragging on and on. Sword clashes rang out, the men made comments on blocks and hits...

None of it seemed real to her.

Yet, it was real, terribly real, because down there her brother was fighting for his life. More agile, Carius was darting in under Ajax's defenses and making fast swipes, then jumping back out before the Greek had time to retaliate. One small jab wasn't enough to do anything, but soon the cuts added up. Whereas Carius was only tired, Ajax was tired and had multiple open, bleeding wounds.

"I don't believe it," said that first soldier, the one betting on Ajax. "The kid is winning!"

"By the gods, what is Polonius doing?" Everyone's attention was brought to a second Greek that had entered the fight, fresh for battle.

"No," Adara whispered, unable to make her voice any louder when she saw the sudden, drastic turn of odds.

She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see Patroclus. In his eyes, she saw the reflection of her face: pale and anxious. "Ajax is an honorable man. He won't fight two on one. See?" Looking back, she now saw that Ajax was waving Polonius away. But then he stopped, because a second Trojan had entered the fight.

Hector.

Adara's heart soared. Once again, the odds switched, this time very much so in the Trojans' favors.

She watched the double battle, her eyes darting back and forth, trying to watch both people she loved. Hector, she could tell, was tired, and Polonius was a good fighter, making them about equal. Unable to land a killing blow, Hector was just keeping his opponent distracted from Carius.

Adara switched her focus to her brother now, who was more or less in a stalemate with Ajax. They were both breathing heavily now, and each had taken numerous hits on both body and shield. They paused for a moment, and when they resumed, Ajax was the first to move. He chopped down with his sword, using probably all the strength he had left. Carius raised his shield, but too many blows had taken their toll. The shield held firm, but Carius's knees buckled, and Adara watched him fall.

Polonius saw it too, and he jumped at the opportunity of a fatal blow. The bystanders on the sand hill watched, all stunned, as Polonius ran at Carius, who didn't know who to look at: Polonius, charging at him, or Ajax, sword in mid-swing.

Hector dove for Polonius, grabbing his ankle in a tackle. The two wrestled, kicking up dirt and sand in a cloud, masking all four warriors. All anyone heard was the sound of swords clanging.

And then, the unmistakable, blood-curdling, heart stopping scream of a dying man.

Adara shook her head subtly, begging the gods not to let that be her brother or Hector. She wanted to run to them, but her feet wouldn't move. She was frozen in place, and she could do nothing but go crazy in the silence as she waited for the air to clear.

It did, slowly, and at first the only thing Adara saw was silhouettes, outlining the strangest form. Then the dust cleared completely, and she saw why it was so oddly shaped: some feet away from the mess was Polonius, where Hector had tackled him, sprawled on the blood-soaked sand, not moving. But he didn't matter. He didn't matter at all.

Who mattered was Hector, who had risen to his knees to stab his sword through Ajax's side. He pulled out his sword, and, after wobbling for a moment, the great Greek fell to the ground. Now that he was out of the way, the only person left was revealed: Carius. He stood as still as Adara's heart, looking down at something on his chest, something almost but not quite the same color as his armor.

He fell to his knees, hands around the hilt of Ajax's sword.

"No, please-" she cut herself off, her voice cracking. She was vaguely aware that Patroclus's hand had tightened on her shoulder.

Hector crawled over to Carius, his face portraying so much panic that she could see it clearly from where she stood. She wondered if her face looked like that now too. But Carius seemed calm, relaxed, unafraid, paying no attention to the face of death.

Finally, her feet moved, but she only managed to take a step before she was lifted off the ground. "Patroclus, put me down!" she cried, beating the hands he wrapped around her waist.

He only tightened his grip, which was already much stronger than she was. "Adara, stop!" He knew she only saw her brother and Hector, but he was aware of the battles that were still raging on around them. "You can't go out there!" After a few more seconds of half-hearted struggling, the rest of the battlefield opened to her sight, and she stopped. He put her down, but kept a firm hold on her.

She saw Hector as he knelt beside his friend. They were talking, but Hector was shaking his head. Then, Carius must have said something different, because Hector stopped. Instead, he bowed his head in sorrow. In a swift motion, he grasped the hilt and pulled. The requested deed done, he threw the weapon aside and gently supported Carius, cradling his head.

A minute of silence on the hill passed before Adara let out a small cry of pain, having felt something constrict around her heart. "Adara?" Patroclus asked, concerned. She didn't answer, for in that moment, she knew her brother was dead. Suddenly, her entire body began to shake. "Adara?" Patroclus said, louder, frightened now.

"You have t-to let m-me go," she choked out. She angled herself towards the beach to show him she wasn't about to run out into battle.

He let go.

She took off.

Sliding down the hill and running for the water was just like the times she had ran in the palace - only this time, it wasn't toward her brother's life; it was away from his death.

She arrived at the rocks that jutted out from the shore in a matter of seconds. She collapsed on the first large, flat one she could reach before emptying her stomach's contents into the water. When she could, she rinsed her mouth. She knew it wasn't the brightest idea as the salt choked her, but it was all she had, and anything was better than the taste of bile. She took deep, shaky breaths, trying to end her body's involuntary quivering.

The sudden placing of two hands, one on either side of her waist, didn't help by making her jump. But their steadiness offered comfort and guidance as they helped her to her feet, from rock to rock, and back to the shore. There, the hold relaxed a little, and she fell, unable to support her own weight with her legs. Patroclus caught her, but instead of helping her stand again, he supported her as she sank lightly to the ground. He sat beside her, one arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he said. Whether it was the words or the way he spoke them - softly, with genuine feeling - Adara didn't know, but they triggered her tears and the wetness poured from her eyes. Once they started, they didn't stop, cascading down her cheeks in an endless flow. She turned her head and buried her face in his neck. He didn't say anything as her tears soaked his tunic; he simply held her until her ducts had run dry and she'd practically cried herself to sleep.

Slowly, gently, he switched his position so he was kneeling beside her sitting form. "Adara?" he said to her. She knew he was trying to talk to her, but her half conscious mind could only string together an unintelligible mumble. "Can you wrap your arms around my neck?" He waited a moment while the words processed in her mind, and then her arms lazily rose. He steered them around his neck, then picked her up, arms under her back and knees.

Adara remembered the beach, remembered flitting in and out of consciousness, remembered being carried back to camp. But those were only side thoughts. She saw Carius in her mind, alive and laughing, pulling pranks and joking about something that wasn't important in the grand spectrum of their lives.

But no more. No more jokes, no more mischievous smiles, no more teasing. Never again.

Inside the tent, Patroclus laid her down on her bed. "Rest for now," his voice said, as if from a distance. Rather unwilling to do anything else, Adara complied.

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