Chapter Four....To The Ends of the Earth (Continued)
Andromache sighed as she sat on the bench in her bedroom. And, because no one else was around, she propped
her elbows on the small marble table in front of her and pressed her carefully made up face into the palms of her
hands. The sound of the waves came to her, even through the muting curtains she had left drawn across her patio
arches and she had the sudden desire rise fiercely inside her to tear the cloth aside and let the night and the salt air
back into the room. Except, rolling on that same desire was the urge to simply keep going and throw herself off the
edge and into the rocks and sea below.
She couldn't do this!
She pulled in a breath that made her shoulders shake and pressed her trembling hands harder to her face. Drew in
another breath.
She would do this. Because she needed to. Akakios was a good man. Her father was thrilled with the extra trade it
would open up for Thebes. She could live here, marry her sister's laughing merchant and he would never treat her
poorly. He would be easy to grow to care for.
Another shudder shook her at the thought of lips against hers. Strong, long fingered hands. The feel of those arms,
warm and safe around her. She'd forgotten herself. Or found herself there. But dark eyes and a smile that melted
her heart had no place in her world now. They never did.
Hera - keep him safe.
She swallowed against the tight throat. Forced herself to stop it. Just - stop it. She was going to be Akakios' wife. He
already indulged her in all things but she couldn't keep another man in her heart. It was wrong to him. She looked at
herself in the polished bronze surface of the mirror and wondered hopelessly how you purged someone like Hector
from your soul. She didn't know. But she was going to have to find a way.
Just as soon as she knew he was safe again. She'd promise the gods after that. Once she knew he was safe.
Face composed around her haunted eyes, she went about the simple routine of cleaning her face and brushing her
hair free. Telling herself she could do this. Because she had to.
Hector's ship had finally docked in the port of Sparta. Then he paid for a horse, much more than it was worth, poor
beast, and raced toward the main center of Sparta. He was in such a rush, he had barely let the ship dock. He asked
around, having schooled in Greece, his accent was infallible, about any upcoming weddings and uncovered the
name Akakios.
A few more questions to other people (so as to not arouse suspicion until he found out what kind of man his rival
was), and he had found the man's villa overlooking the sea. He expertly cased it, hardly any guards, and the guards
who were there didn't look like much of a challenge if it came down to it, which he hoped it wouldn't. Would be hard
enough to get her to forgive him without bursting in covered in blood chased down by remaining guards!
He walked around the house, avoiding the patrols until he saw her pass by what he presumed to be a bedroom
window. Which conveniently had a nice network of ivy along the house. The landscape was hopeless for this, it gave
way to a rocky cliff quickly and suddenly.
He smiled a bit as he watched her, she wanted to live by the sea. He remembered that. But as far as he was
concerned, she should be on the other side of the Aegean Sea. He said a quick oath to Aphrodite, took a breath
and scaled the ivy slowly so as to not jar it from the side of the house or alert guards until he finally pulled himself
over the railing of the balcony.
He watched her for a moment as she brushed her long hair, his breath catching. He was not a man who made room
in himself for fear, but gods as his witness, he was terrified at this moment as he pushed aside the muting curtains,
being preceded by a burst of sea scented air as he came into the room. He knocked on the wall.
"Mind if I come in?" He asked.
Her eyes flew huge as she turned toward the intrusion, hand already moving behind her on the table for something
heavy. And then she saw who it was.
The bottle slipped out of her suddenly nerveless hand, spilling the scent of orchids to mix with the salt air that
washed into the room and her eyes changed in her pale face. Went vulnerable and torn. One thought wiped all the
others away.
He was alive...
The tears came then. Of relief and all the pent up fear and uncertainty. They didn't spill but they clouded her eyes
until she fought to blink them away.
Oh gods... he was all right...
She was in his arms before she realized she'd moved. Soaked in the scent of him, the warmth of him. Winding her
arms around his shoulders to pull his face down to hers. To pull his lips down to cover hers. For a moment there was
only him and nothing else mattered.
Hector took that as an indication that he could come in, though he barely managed to let the curtain fall closed
behind him before she was in his arms and he was kissing her over and over, his hands tangling themselves in her
long hair. Might be easier than he thought, and he relaxed. She couldn't be THAT mad. And, if he was lucky, not
mad at all.
He barely managed to stifle a groan when she prodded an especially tender and colorful bruise on his shoulder as
she clung to him. At least he hoped he managed. War was messy, painful business. "Gods, I missed you." He
murmured against her lips and her hair, holding her as close to him as he dared. "There wasn't time...and then you
were gone...so I came here.." How much sense he was actually making, he wasn't sure. And as much as certain
areas were painful to touch, he just didn't want to let her go, afraid she'd slip away again.
"I was so worried," the confession slipped out past her tight throat, clinging to him as if he were the only thing real in
her world. Her lips moved against his, sharing the kisses, tasting the hunger and desperation in his words. She had
been scared. So scared. Sure she would never see him again. Tormented with years of working in her father's
infirmary so that her mind imagined all the horrible, horrible things that could have happened to him. Her hands
shifted against him and she felt his wince move through her. It brought the world outside them a bit into focus and
she pulled her face back enough to look up at him, worry in her eyes again.
"You're hurt." It was half concern and half accusation, as if he'd lied to her about it. "Sit down." she started
untangling herself from his arms. Realizing that he looked worn and tired. That there was the smell of salt water and
leather to him. How could she have been so self centered that she'd missed that? "Let me look at it." she ordered.
Mind already organizing into what she had available and what she might need.
"It’s not important." He said, refusing to let her go as his eyes searched her face. "I'm fine. Well, the climb up the ivy
almost did me in," he joked, "but I survived." He hadn't slept since the last battle of the Hittites. He'd gone straight
from the battlefield, to Troy, to the boat, to here, to her.
He reached up with one hand and ran his thumb over her cheekbone, touched deeply by the concern and worry he
saw in her eyes over him, and smiled slightly at her. "Just tired." He reluctantly confessed. "But I had to know I wasn't
going to arrive too late. Am I?"
For all he knew, he was. And he was just a memory she was reliving before she married the merchant.
She closed her eyes at his touch, raising her own hand to curve against the outside of his larger one before she
reluctantly opened her own eyes again and looked up at him. Blinking at his question. It caught her off guard and
her mind couldn't seem to fit it into the rest of what they'd been talking about. Too late for what? The only thing she
knew of that was impending was her wedding. And it didn't make any sense for him to rush here to witness that. The
pain moved through her heart, fled through her dark eyes. She didn't want to think about that now. She couldn't -
couldn't be sensible and wise about things when she was in his arms, her lips still warm with the touch of his.
Hopeless, knowing she was going to have to step out of his arms and make it forever this time, she lifted her eyes to
his, searching.
"What is there to be late for?" she asked, voice low to keep it from shaking the way her heart already was.
"Too late to stop you from making the biggest mistake of my life." He said. Maybe he was too late. Dammit. "Tell me
that you don't want to marry him." His said, his voice gone hoarse with hope. "That this is all some arrangement by
your father and that I can find a way around your father's wishes." The last part wouldn't be hard. Her father would
weigh his daughter opening up trade routes with an oil merchant, or opening up trade routes with a whole country as
wealthy as Troy. Just the first part.
If she looked him in the eye and said that yes, she wanted to marry Akakios, that he would make her happy, he'd
leave without a second thought. He'd easily put her happiness above his own. As long as she was happy, he'd be
content to spend the rest of his life in misery.
Andromache shook her head, shifting her hands to place them against Hector's chest. Starting to pull away again.
She couldn't - she couldn't do this. And she didn't know if 'this' meant life without Hector or telling him why it had to
be that way. She didn't understand why he was so persistent in his pursuit of her.
"Of course I'm going to marry Akakios." she kept her eyes to the side. Not looking at his face. "It’s arranged. That's
the entire point behind this journey."
"That's not what I asked." Hector said, still searching her face for answers, though she wouldn't look at him, and tried
to pull away. But, bruises and scrapes or not, he was still stronger than her, and she wasn't trying all that hard. One
minute she was wrapped up in his arms and it felt like they had an eternity for each other, the next he almost felt like
his life was going to crash around him and bring his hopes and dreams with it.
"I asked if that's what you wanted...." He said. "Andromache...talk to me."
"What do you want me say?" she turned her face suddenly toward him. Eyes full of pain. Voice raw with it. "This is
the way things have to be. You knew that. Why are you doing this now?"
"I want you to tell me the truth." Hector pressed, looking into her dark eyes with his own. He could see the pain and
he hated it, but he had to know. Gods, if this was what she wanted, really wanted, he'd stop badgering her and
bothering her, even if she for the most part liked it. "Because if I'm not, I've got a better offer for you. Do you want to
marry Akakios?" Then he literally held his breath as he looked at her, watched her, his whole future hinging on her
answer.
"He's a good man." she said it as if she was defending him. "He laughs. And he spoils Eleni. Dotes on his younger
sisters. It doesn't matter what I want. He would be good to me." She shut her eyes, heart tearing. Why wouldn't he let
her go?
"But I don't love him." It slipped out. Barely a whisper. A failing. Because she was supposed to understand that love
didn't matter. Her hands fisted helpless against Hector's chest and she turned her face away. Whispered: "I don't
love him."
Hector didn't exhale until her last confession. That gave him hope, more hope than she could have believed as he
looked at her, though she turned her face away.
"I love you." He said. He certainly hadn't come all this way to play it safe after all. "And I could spoil Eleni, I dote on
my siblings, even the older ones. I would give you the best and all that I could. And what you want does matter. It
matters to me."
She squeezed her eyes tighter shut. Trying to breath. She'd never known that her heart could physically hurt this
way. Or that it could hurt so much. Were the gods mocking her? Or was it just her own heart? Her hands slipped
from Hector and in a soft, hollow voice she stated: "I can't marry you."