Authors Note: Well, I'm bored. What happens when I am bored is I either clean house or begin writing something. So I'm doing both. I had decided to finish my Troy fic and write complete on anything that I know I won't finish, or deleting it if I don't like it anymore. It's freeing. Really. So...enjoy and review please! Thanks. So this installment is The End of this fic. Now there is no way I was going to write a chapter about Andromache giving birth, not going to happen, so it's from Hectors point of view.
I loved to watch her eat.
Andromache ate with her fingers...but, she did so seductively, even when she was due to birth my child any day and was increasingly hostile and violent.
She sat across from me and picked at her lunch. It consisted of a plate of fruit, meat, some bread, and water. She wanted something tasteless to drink.
I did not ask, nor did I want to know.
But I watched her pick the pieces of fruit she wanted and then take bites out of them, sucking the juices away. She would lick her fingers clean of the juices. Then she would pick at the pieces of meat she wanted.
She picked the dark meat and peeled the skin off. She then dropped them in her mouth piece by piece.
Then she ate the bread.
She peeled the crust off the bread and ate that. But, she did not waste the soft filling. She flattened it with her palm and wrapped the largest piece of the meat in it and ate it. Bite by bite.
I sipped my wine and watched as she ate lunch. It fascinated me to no end.
Then she burped.
It was a quiet burp, but enough of one that she covered her mouth. She then looked up at me, "Hector?"
I lowered the goblet of wine from my lips, "Yes love?"
She swallowed the remaining food in her mouth and gently told me. "I am going to have my baby now."
The goblet of wine fell out of my hand and onto the floor, "What?"
Andromache looked down at the floor, I mirrored her action and peeked under the table in the dining hall. A puddle of water pooled on the floor beneath her.
A few hours later...
Father watched me pace back and forth, back and forth, back and forth across the floor of hall.
I could not sit still.
I could not physically sit still while I heard her screams through the wall. I was not allowed in there. The midwife would not allow me inside the room while she gave birth.
It was my child. I should have been allowed inside. I wanted to be in there while she gave birth. I wanted to be in there. I wanted to hold her and tell her that everything would be fine. I wanted to see the birth of my child.
Father would not allow it.
Two guards stood in front of the door that held the bedroom Andromache was in.
I was about ready to go mad.
"Hector stop pacing, you are driving me mad."
I looked down at my father and ignored him. I continued to pace, "How long has she been in there?"
Father sighed, "Son. It took your mother five hours to birth you. Eight hours to birth Cassandra, and three to birth Paris. It will take as much time as it needs."
I glared and then ran a hand through my hair.
This was taking far too long.
A few more hours…
I had taken my sandals off. The noise they made had begun to get on my nerves. Then the sight of them had begun to anger me, so I kicked them down the hall.
"Hector…you need to go eat. Have you eaten today son?"
I continued to pace.
Long ago I had pulled my hair free of the clip that held it, I threw that down the hall too.
"I'm not hungry," I spat.
"Hector…" Father began.
I turned my gaze upon him and glared, I continued to pace across the hall. I ran my fingers through my hair and wondered what was happening in the room. Why had she fallen silent? Was there something wrong? Was she hurt? Was the baby harmed?
The silence was killing me.
One hour later…
I stared at the door from the floor.
Finally I had taken a seat.
I sat on the floor with my knees pulled under my chin. I watched the door and listened for a sound, any sound.
I prayed to the Gods and Goddesses. I prayed to every single God I could name for my wife and child. I prayed more then I had ever prayed in my life. If she were safe I would never touch her again. I could not survive another birth. It was the worst form of torture imaginable.
I ignored my father and kept my eyes on the door.
Finally he got to his feet, walked across the hall, and took a seat beside me.
Then, the door opened.
I stood and ran across the hall before I even knew who had opened it. To my relief it was Padme. In her arms was my child. She held my child. The enormous smile upon her face told me that Andromache was fine, safe, and alive.
I could not take my eyes from my child.
Softly Padme handed me my sleeping child, wrapped in a blanket Andromache had woven. In a near whisper she told me, "Be sure to support your son's head. He is not quite as strong as you yet."
I had a son.
My first-born was a son.
I was a father.
I looked at my son and could not help but see how beautiful he was. I held him close to my heart and softly kissed his soft head. I brushed my fingers over his warm red skin. Then I looked to Padme, "Andromache?"
With a smile she confirmed, "She is asleep. She fed him and watched as I cleaned him near an hour ago, then she fell asleep. She is well."
"Thank you," I sincerely told her.
Padme just smiled and peeked at my son.
"Hector. Let me hold my grandson," Father complained at my side. I was not ready to give up my son. "Not yet," I told him.
"Hector. Let me hold my grandson. That is an order as King of Troy."
"I'll throw you from the balcony, as Prince of Troy," I countered, unable to take my eyes from my son.
Padme rolled her eyes, she then asked me, "Would you like to see Andromache?"
I looked up, "Yes."
"Then give me my grandson," father hissed.
It was only fair. I turned and gently handed my father my son, "Be careful and support his head."
"Oh be quiet," father told me.
I watched him take my sleeping child into his arms. It was then Paris came running. Dressed in his night clothes he was wide awake. He came to a stop, his robes flowing behind him, "Let me hold it! Is it a boy or girl?"
"No. It is my grandson," Father told him.
Padme took my wrist as the two began to argue. I didn't want to leave my son with them, but I wanted to be sure my wife was safe. So I followed Padme into the dark room. Past a closed door and into a bedroom. It was a simple bedroom and my wife was sound asleep in the bed. Paler then earlier in the evening, I looked to Padme, "Why is she so pale?"
Padme narrowed her dark eyes, "She just gave birth Hector!"
At that I stepped away from her and walked to the bed that Andromache was asleep on. I climbed onto it and inched over to my sleeping wife. I placed a soft kiss upon her cheek, nose, lips, chin, anywhere and everywhere.
I kissed her until her eyes opened.
Her soft brown eyes fluttered open and I told her, "I love you."