Ok, for those of you that don't know, this story is a sequel to my previous fanfic, From Thebe to Troy. I highly suggest you read that before you read this one, if you haven't already.

For those of you that have been following my writing, here's a bit of a heads up. I have only the vaguest idea of where I'm going with this story, so bear with me. Cassandra's fate will come in this. As a warning, it won't be what happens according to ancient literature. (Meaning she is captured during the sack of Troy and she is given to Agamemnon as his slave girl.) In literature, she's actually very vocal during the war as to Helen's arrival and things (there was this huge scene when Paris and Helen arrived and she ran out screaming at everyone to send Helen back.) but she won't be in my story. Since I'm basing this on the movie and not the book, I'm taking some artistic license with her character. She will be long gone by the time my third sequel (the one that takes place DURING the movie Troy) because obviously I can't have her coming out and screaming at Helen, since she wasn't there in the film. I hope you'll forgive me but as a consolation, she'll get some good prophecies in before she leaves, so don't worry.

The length of this, I have no idea. It'll jump around quite a bit, since this fic is taking place from some time after my first fic to near the end of their marriage (to the time RIGHT before the film Troy starts,) so there'll be some skipping around.

Suggestions: If you want something specific in this fic, put it in your review. Like I said, I read ALL of them and take them into consideration, so there's a good chance it'll get in here. Since I have only a rough idea of where I'm going with this, there's a good chance your wishes will be fulfilled. This fic is mainly to develop their relationship deeper to the point we see in the movie.

Notes: This fic is strictly PG-13 and it will NOT go above that rating. So to all of you who are hoping for some scenes, sorry but you'll have to go elsewhere. I prefer to focus on the emotional relationship instead of just the physical. So yah, there is nothing above a PG-13 rating.

Here's the first chapter, enjoy!

…

Andromache awoke to the sound of birds singing and she smiled, her eyes still closed. She could feel the sun on her body and relaxed into the bed, planning on enjoying a few more hours' sleep.

"Happy anniversary," said a voice from across the room.

"Not yet," she murmured. "In a few hours."

"It's our first anniversary together and you wish to spend it sleeping?" the voice mocked.

"This is our second," she protested, trying to hold onto that feeling of drowsiness.

"But for the first one I was barely here," the voice reminded her.

"Then yes, Hector, I wish to spend it sleeping," she said, squinting through the light streaming on her face to try to see her husband. She felt the bed slink down as he joined her and she collapsed back on the pillow, holding her hand to shield her face. "Did you open the curtains?"

"Yes, I didn't want you to spend the whole day sleeping."

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon," he replied.

Andromache groaned and sat up. "Since when do you sleep late into the day?"

"Never," he replied. "I've been up for a few hours already. I've prepared breakfast for you."

"You're not eating?" she asked, following him over to a table set with fruit.

"I already ate," he said, handing her a plate with some fruit on it. She smiled when she saw it.

"Peeled grapes?" she teased him.

He smiled. "I know you too well."

"Well, this is a special day," she said solemnly, peering at her plate. "You've never peeled grapes before."

"Don't grow accustomed to it, I have better things to do," he retorted. "Besides, I don't know how you can stand them like that. They're all wet and slippery, not at all appetizing."

She popped one in her mouth. "They taste much better like this."

He just shook his head. "What shall we do today?"

"You have the whole day free?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course," he replied. "Unless an emergency comes up. What do you wish to do?"

"Picnic on the beach," she replied without hesitating.

"So be it," he said, standing up. "I'll have the horses ready in fifteen minutes."

"I'll be ready by the gate," she promised.

…

For the next few hours they swam together, enjoying the feel of the cool water against their skin while the sun beat down on them. They finally made their way onto the beach, where they stretched out to dry.

"It was quite brilliant of me, teaching you how to swim," Hector mused.

"Amazingly brilliant," Andromache agreed, a teasing look in her eye.

"I should teach Briseis," he continued, casting a glance at his wife. "For those moonlight swims you two seem to enjoy."

"We haven't been doing that lately," she protested.

"Last week," he pointed out.

"Just as I said, lately," she replied, laughing. "And you weren't supposed to know."

"Very little goes on in this city that I don't know about," Hector said, flicking Andromache's head.

"Name something then, something that I've never told you."

"You stole my horse the first night you were here," he said, grinning at the shocked look on her face.

"There's no possible way-" she began.

"To be sure, I don't know what you used him for," Hector conceded. "But he was a bit dirty the following morning, and I know I hadn't left him like that."

Andromache just gave him an exasperated look.

"Never tamper with my horses, love," he teased her. "I'll always find out."

"He's my horse," Andromache protested haughtily, a twinkling look in her eye.

"So he is," Hector agreed.

"Let's go for a walk," Andromache suggested, climbing to her feet and pulling Hector up. "Tell me about your childhood," she commanded, tucking her hand in his.

Hector shrugged, "Not much to talk about."

"Fine, I'll be specific," she replied, thinking. "When did you first ride a horse?"

Hector smiled. "I must've been around three; Father sat me on his lap and led the horse in a walk around the stable yard. It's my earliest memory." There was a faraway look in his eyes as he remembered, then they cleared and he turned to her. "My turn. What's your earliest memory?"

Andromache thought hard. "I'm not sure if it's really a memory," she admitted. "But I have a dim recollection of a smiling face leaning over me when I was a baby."

"Your mother, perhaps?" Hector suggested.

Andromache shook her head. "No, the face was a little girl's. I had a sister, you see, who died when I was just a baby. My mother never described what she looked like, so I can't be sure if it was her, but from that one memory I can tell she looked like me. But it's so hazy, perhaps I just dreamed it."

"Dreams can be just as real as memories," Hector pointed out. "Sometimes the gods grant us dreams in place of memories as an act of kindness."

Andromache nodded. "Sometimes they do."

"How did she die?" Hector asked.

"Thrown from a horse," Andromache replied. "It was always odd, though; the horse had been standing calmly and suddenly reared up, throwing her off its back. There had been nothing to startle it, so they never could figure out why it behaved like that. Father ordered it killed on the spot."

Hector nodded. "I'm surprised they let you ride, then. Oftentimes parents forbid a child to ride after they've been through an experience like that."

"I was never allowed out alone," she reminded him. "And often my family would refuse to escort me, I think that's partially why."

"What was her name?" Hector asked.

"Sapphira," Andromache replied. "She was seven years older than I; I believe she was nine when she died."

"It must have grieved your parents to lose a child," Hector said.

"Have yours never lost one?" she asked.

"Never a grown child; my mother has sometimes failed to carry a baby to term, though."

"It is a hard thing, for a parent to see their child brought to life and then pass on to death," Andromache mused. "I pray yours never have to witness it."

"They almost did," Hector told her. "Cassandra had a prophecy when Paris was born. She said that if he lived our city would come to ruin, but my parents refused to believe her and so kept Paris alive."

"Does she still feel that way?" Andromache asked.

Hector shrugged. "She never spoke of it again, and she stopped prophesying after that. No one ever believed her, you see, and she grew tired of being ridiculed."

"Did her prophesies always come true?" Andromache asked.

"Always," Hector affirmed. "But I pray it will not always be so."

The sun was shining down on them but Andromache could feel a shiver running down her back. She glanced over at Troy and tried to imagine the city falling to ruin, but she could not.

"Anything's possible," Hector said, following her gaze. "Though some things are unlikely."

"Not so long as you draw breath, Hector," she said confidently.

"I know," he answered. "But it's after I cease drawing breath that I worry."

Troy stood in the distance, strong and unmoving. A fortress to many and a place of refuge for centuries. But perhaps it will not always be so, Andromache thought, another chill running down her spine. I pray to the gods you are mistaken, Cassandra.