Chapter Fifteen....Rough Journey (continued)
Hector shook his head. "Don't. Don't go there Andromache." He said, a bit hoarsely. "Don't think it, don't speak it.
You are going to be fine. I'm...I'm ordering you to be okay. All right? And I've never had a direct order disobeyed.
Ever. Don't you dare break my streak."
He didn't like where this conversation was going, where her thoughts were going. He was going mad, and down
below deck he didn't even know how far it was to Troy, since he had ordered, barring emergency, not to be
disturbed until Troy was in sight. Again, he'd never been disobeyed.
Her throat closed down and tears stung her eyes. She didn't want to do this to him. Couldn't stand the pain and the
fear in his eyes.
Couldn't convince herself that she truly wanted him to marry anyone else. Even if she died today and he lived for
another thousand years.
Tender, she reached up and slipped her fingers down his cheek. She hated this. Hated what she was doing to him.
Hated not being able to promise him that she would stay. She could promise that she would fight. As miserable as
she was she was hardly ready to give up yet. But her mother's work... there were stages to it. Each worse than the
last. And as much as she raged and fought... in the end she wasn't sure she was stronger than the Fates. Or even
lucid by the end for that matter.
"I want you to be happy." she murmured, stroking her thumb gently across his cheek. "Don't worry. I'm not giving up.
And you know how stubborn I am," the smile was fleeting but honest. "I just want you to know - I want you to be
happy. Always."
"Then you don't have a choice." He said, his own eyes shiny with tears of fear, fear that coursed through his whole
body. "You have to stay with me, not wait for me on the other side. I don't care what your mother poisoned you with,"
there. Someone had finally said it out loud. "You are not going to leave me. None of this beating around the bush
about what if. Because there is no what if." He shook his head at her.
"If you want me to be happy always, then you're just going to have to live with me in the here and now. Because I
won't wait for Elysium."
"Oh, my love." The tears came then, leaking from the corners of her eyes. Not for herself. For what she was putting
him through. Shifting carefully, she pressed against him, resting her face against his shoulder while her hand curled
over his heart.
Gods... how could she bear to leave him?
"We'll find a way." she promised. If she had to fight gods and Fates. If she had to throw away the coins and stay as
a spirit in his dreams. If it took every ounce of cleverness and scheming and stubbornness in her - she'd find a way
to stay by his side. What was happening to her now was nothing compared to what she'd endure to stay with him.
"Shh.." He tried to soothe her as he held her. And did his best not to rock or move at all. "I did not cross the Aegean
in a storm to get to you, straight from the battlefield, just so you could leave me on the Aegean. It doesn't work that
way, not even the gods would be that cruel. You just wait. Give it some time, and we'll look back on this trip and
laugh riotously. We'll laugh so hard that everyone will think we're crazier than they think Cassandra is." He said,
holding onto that hope.
Until they got to the healers, there wasn't anything else to do but hope. Because he refused to have the 'when I die'
conversation with her. Not now. That conversation should be reserved for sunny days and perfect health, and be
purely hypothetical.
"I don't think I'm ever going to find feeding the fish my already eaten breakfast funny." She mumbled against him
dryly. Fingers curling in the fabric of his tunic. She loved him. She did. So much that he hurt her heart. Sickness at a
lull she relaxed against him, sighing out. Miserable and hot and tired. But still alive and having been able to keep
from dashing to the porthole during the past ten minutes at least.
"I'll be all right. I will." she murmured, eyelids growing heavy. "Can't set a bad example for your men, after all..."
Hector chuckled, but managed to keep it to a quiet rumble. "Just get some sleep." He said, still stroking her hair.
"Before you know it, we'll be in Troy, on stable land, and I'll be making fun of you for being sea sick.." If they didn't
get there soon, he'd jump overboard and push the damn boat himself if he had to.
"And you got me out of another unnecessary parade, so I owe you..."
"You do." she agreed, already starting to drift between the exhaustion, the lull in her stomach's churning and the
soothing touch of his hand. As long as he was here, she'd have to stay. She never let him sleep alone when they
were in the same city...
She made another soft sound as the boat shifted and then settled against him again. And then sleep took her and
she relaxed in his arms.
She fell asleep in his arms, and as worried and frightened as he was, he fell asleep shortly after from pure
exhaustion. Worry took more energy than fighting, he'd swear to it. He didn’t know how long they were asleep, but it
didn't feel that long before the boat master quietly entered the room and shook his prince awake.
"We've arrived, my prince. And we're nearly fully unloaded." He said. He couldn't help but notice that his prince
didn't look so good, but that his princess looked even worse. He said a quick silent prayer to Apollo, and departed
from the room.
Hector slid out of bed carefully, careful to not rouse her before he had to and packed up the room quietly and
efficiently, setting everything outside for the men to pick up on their way back. Then he tied on his sandals and
watched her for a moment. He wouldn't be able to take it if she left him. They thought Cassandra was nuts? Well,
she'd be a sane rational well adjusted person compared to him without Andromache.
"Andromache....Andromache..." He whispered, touching her shoulder. "Come on, we're back." Once he saw she
knew what was happening, he easily picked her up and carried her outside. The forward rider had already been
sent, and had returned with a palanquin. Not the type her father had used, this was Troy after all. It was slung
between four horses, and was really a jerry-rigged version of how his army carried its wounded back, except shaded
fully from the sun and lined with soft overstuffed pillows. He laid her in it and mounted the horse to lead the other
four, and as fast as he dared, he led them to Troy, where she was quickly and quietly taken into the healer
physician's rooms, leaving Hector, against his choice, outside on the bench. Waiting.