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Chapter 24: Only Choice

When Adara woke, it was to a rather loud yelp. Her eyes shot open, revealing the sun was still in the sky. She blinked a few times to clear the fuzziness from her sight, and when her vision cleared, she saw Patroclus, one hand on his injured side, the other gripping the small table so hard his knuckles were white. His eyes were clamped shut, a look of pain on his face.

In moments, Adara was up and at his side, offering support. His pain had taken him elsewhere for a second, but she brought him back. "Adara?" he asked, surprised because he hadn't heard her move. But he'd barely gotten the word out before he gasped again after trying to move a little.

"What happened?" she asked, helping him over to his bed.

"Slammed into the table," he explained. "Always do that. Hurts to breathe."

She let out a sigh, a little relieved now that her initial panic was calmed. He was fine. The Ambrosia had healed him, but she wasn't surprised he was till sore.

He smiled after a minute when his pain lessened and he could breath normally. Then, just as quickly as she'd woken up, his smile faded. "And...how are you?"

Her lips formed a thin line, and her face went blank as she thought. Seeing her stoic countenance, he wished he hadn't said anything. She would speak to him about it if she wanted. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't-"

"No, it's fine. I'm just...not sure yet." She shifted herself to a more comfortable position next to him. "But I'll be fine." She gave him a small, sad smile, remembering how she hated that word. He put his hand over hers. "I just...I wish I could've done something."

"Adara, it's not your fault. There was nothing you could have done."

"I know," she said, calming him. "I know. I'm not blaming myself. But...first Carius, now Hector. I couldn't do anything for them." She looked down at her hands. He thought she may cry, but she wouldn't; she'd had enough of that. When she looked back up at him, she gave him a genuine smile, bright and pure, that made him smile back. "At least I could do something for you."

"Yes," he agreed, finally getting to what he'd been wanting to ask her. "What, exactly, did you do for me? Besides leaving your home and sneaking through an enemy camp in the middle of the night, that is." She laughed with him, and though the action brought him a little pain, seeing her happy was far more important.

"It was this," she explained, pulling out a drawstring pouch from her cloak. "This is what I did for you." She pulled on the strings to allow the bag to open, letting him see the shining, gold clump. "Ambrosia."

His eyes widened, awestruck. "Ambrosia from the gods?"

Adara couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, of course. What other kind of Ambrosia is there?"

"Where did you get it?"

"It's mine." She tucked it safely back where it had been. "As a healer, I inherit the Ambrosia from my mentor."

He blinked a few times, obviously still amazed. "I can't believe you used Ambrosia on me." Then he corrected himself. "I can't believe it worked."

"Why wouldn't it?"

He stared at her as if the answer was obvious. "It's Ambrosia. It's legendary that only the ones blessed by the gods can live." Adara had never heard that before; Daan had taught her that too much or too little could kill, not that the right amount was chosen by the gods - though, thinking about it, it made sense. She had prayed to them for help. "It's a great honor...even if it wasn't an easy decision for them."

He remembered the agony of the liquid he'd drank, remembered the darkness that almost overtook the light he'd clung to. "What happened? What did I do? And how did you get back?"

While the sun finished its arch in the sky and night set it, Adara explained every detail of that night to him, from her escape from Troy to the ragged gasp that proved he was alive.

"It is dangerous that you're here," he said, but he chuckled slightly and added, "but I'm glad you are."

"I'm glad you're alive," she replied.

He took her hands and held her sea green gaze in his. "Thank you for saving my life, Adara."

"You already said that to me." She lowered her voice, and her breathing and heart rate sped up. He watched her cheeks grow pink.

"I still mean it."

She shrugged. "I couldn't let you die," she said. She paused for a moment, lost in the eyes she worried she would never see again.

"Adara," he said, low and quiet, sending a light chill up her spine and goosebumps on her arms. Briefly, she wondered if he heard her heart pounding. He opened his mouth, but remained silent, searching for words. Finally, he laughed and shook his head to himself. "I-"

"Patroclus!" Achilles's rough voice called from outside the tent. "Come out here." A second passed, and then he added, "Both of you."

Inside, Patroclus and Adara exchanged worried glances. She helped him rise and they hurried outside.

"Help me with his," Achilles said to his cousin, not looking at him or Adara as he turned to something on the ground: Hector's body. Though she couldn't see him because of the blanket he'd been wrapped in, Adara knew it was him.

She watched, confused, as Achilles, Eudorus, and Patroclus carried the limp prince from next to Achilles's tent to behind a second tent, past which she could not see. She took a few steps forward, not knowing if she should proceed or not. Soon after, though, Patroclus returned, visibly upset despite the darkness.

"Come with me," he said, holding out his hand.

He led her around the tent, and her jaw went slack. Eudorus and Odysseus were putting Hector's body in a cart behind a chariot. Out of her peripheral vision, Adara saw Briseis and Achilles sharing a private moment, but her sight was focused on the chariot driver.

"Adara," King Priam stated with relief when he saw her. He opened his arms, and after a nudge from Patroclus to make her move, she ran to their comfort. "You're all right."

Adara took a step back. "You don't seem very...surprised, my king."

He shook his head. "Daan explained the situation to me before I left."

Her eyes widened tremendously, making the tired king chuckle. "How much of the situation did he explain, exactly?"

"To your parents, I think he may have left something out. As for me..." he trailed off, eyes looking past Adara. He gave a nod, and she turned to see Patroclus nod in reply, though his was lower and longer, like a bow. Priam smiled, then motioned for her to go back to him.

She found herself in front of Patroclus with one thought on her mind. She stared straight at his chest, not seeing anything. If she went, she'd be safe in Troy, reunited with her family, but not him.

If she stayed...then what? She would hide out in the Myrmidon camp until the war ended. There was nothing for her.

Only him.

"Adara?" Patroclus repeated, tilting her chin up. She blinked, having not heard him the first time. "You have to go."

She took a step forward, feeling his embrace. "I know," she sighed. If it was possible, he pulled her closer to him. "It hasn't even been a full day. It's not long enough."

In her ear, his deep voice whispered, "I will find you again. I promise."

There, safe in his arms, she could almost believe it could be true. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I never do." He pulled away, looking around quickly. Achilles and Briseis were just parting; he still had time.

She had begun to turn away when he let go, but was gently brought back to him by the wrist. "My home is in Phthia." He put his hands on both sides of her face. "Look at me. I will keep my promise. Whether you come to me, or I have to fight my way through Troy to get to you, I will."

She nodded, and was suddenly very conscious of the fact that people were watching them. But he smiled, and she smiled against his lips when he kissed her.

Patroclus helped her onto the chariot, next to Priam and Briseis, still holding her hand. The horses whinnied as the king flicked the reins. "I promise," he repeated just before her hand slipped from his. She nodded, and stayed like that, half turned around, until she couldn't see him anymore.

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