A/N: Sorry for the long wait on this one guys! My beta had a computer problem and so we had to wait until we were both on line to send and receive files. On top of that, I started student teaching. So I hope this makes up for it. Europe was wonderful, thanks to all of you for your well wishes and graduation wishes, I love you all! Now, on to the story.
Chapter 24: For Your Love
"You are fighting with a Spartan-for that whore?" Cassandra's voice came out very much like a shriek. And why would it not? Harry's "perfect plan", or so he thought, could leave her without an heir to the throne. Therefore, screaming was an understatement.
Sparta already had too much power over Troy; she wouldn't want to give them an excuse to pursue more, as she knew that if Harry was out of the picture, Helen's daughter would take over the throne. And she had not disregarded her theory that such a chance was what she was looking for in the first place. It would be the perfect opportunity, especially since the Trojan prince was risking his life for hers. Either way, Cassandra thought Hermione had nothing to lose, but everything to win.
"I thought I made it clear to not call Hermione by that name again!" Harry spat while polishing his sword.
He was doing the right thing, for Hermione. It was the only thought that kept him going. After all the love they had expressed from one another, both in and out of the bedroom, he could not bear to see her go. Especially to a fiancée that would treat her like a prize he just won in battle, and an uncle who would make her...Harry did not even want to think about it. She deserved better. And he knew that he could make her happy, and that she would make him happy; not to mention a better person.
His mood had drastically improved when he was with her. He could not bear to be his cold self with her and she put him in such a good mood that other people, his aunt as well, unfortunately, had noticed the change. And if something happened to Hermione, heaven forbid, it would be harder for him to go back to his cold personality having known the person who could melt it all away...
"That is what she is! Your throne is in jeopardy! You put Troy at risk for that-"
"My throne is nothing without her, Troy is nothing without her," he said with both honesty and resolve.
He would end it today. Either he would have her or he would die trying.
He would have laughed at the irony if Hermione's life was not at stake. His father would have given him hell for this; but, for better or worse, he finally understood Paris's position, and why his father had felt obligated to do something about it- even if it cost him his life. Both his father and his uncle, under different circumstances, of course, had known love, both for a woman and for their country, and now it was his turn. He would claim the throne, but not without Hermione.
****
"Where is my daughter?"
As soon as Menelaus arrived, he noticed Agamemnon putting Spartan soldiers on the outsides of the castle.
A shiver helplessly escaped his body. The last days that he would see his wife in good health had begun exactly like this.
"I know not. Crying somewhere perhaps?" Agamemnon replied calmly. The memories apparently did not seem to bother him in the least.
"Crying? Why?"
"Because she is about to lose her Trojan lover!" Agamemnon stood up, his face full of rage, while
Menelaus's complexion lost all colour. "Yes, you heard me right, little brother. Your daughter has been whoring all this time with the son of Prince Hector! Well, she is going to Sparta with me whether she wants it or not. Since you obviously never did anything about it, it is again, up to me, to try to preserve the honour of the family."
"Agamemnon, just what-"
He knew what his brother was capable of. But, despite the fact that he did not pay much attention to his only daughter, for she reminded him of exactly what he had lost, he did not want to see Hermione get hurt.
And he knew his brother, as much as he hated to admit it, was capable of doing just that without a hint of remorse.
"See, if you had followed my advice in the first place, this would never had happened, but being the stupid king that you are!" Agamemnon growled.
Picking up after his brother was getting old. But he had to admit that was not what bothered him the most. Hermione being intimate with a man that was Sparta's enemy, even if Troy was Sparta's property, made his blood boil. And if this was her way to be rebellious, he wanted to be the one to make her go back to the behaviour that should distinguish all women: being subservient to the men that they should be subservient to.
Menelaus did not dare to argue with his older brother, but this particular argument had occurred someplace in the bloody shadows of the past. And that had culminated with Helen's suicide. He was not going to let Hermione go through that a second time. He knew that even though she was only eleven years old when her mother had died, she had taken it hard, and never forgiven him for what she thought had been his fault. All these years he had blamed Helen for her own fate out of guilt; now he was not so sure she deserved the blame when this fate awaited his own daughter, it seemed.
It was time to be brave.
"Agamemnon let us not do this. If Hermione wants to stay-"
"Hermione will not stay! Do you not see? She has dishonoured Sparta! A little bit familiar, is it not, little brother? Will you allow the other woman in your life to dishonour you like your wife did?"
"Do not talk about Helen like that! She-"
"She was never yours! Because you never made her yours! Well, I will not let Sparta be mocked once more by Troy! He will die!" Agamemnon swore and Menelaus was, once again, powerless to argue.
****
"Harry I beg you, please do not do this. I will-" By now, Hermione was holding him firmly by his waist, her head settled on his back while he finished with his sword.
"Oh, so you would rather go to Sparta then?"
His tone of voice was no longer tender, but she chose to not pay attention to this. There were bigger matters at stake, such as his life. His insensitivity could wait.
"If that keeps you alive so be it! I could not live if anything happened to you! I would rather go back and see you alive-"
"And I could not live without you." Harry turned around, cupping her cheek. Hermione, helplessly and... perhaps predictably... sank into his caress as he claimed her lips in a soft kiss. "I love you."
"No! You are not…!"
Hermione, unfortunately, discovered what he was trying to do too late and before she could hold on to his waist, he was on the designated battleground, his sword and shield at the ready.
Hermione had to back away to the terrace and shield her eyes from the burning sunlight that surrounded the outsides of the Trojan palace on midday, probably another one of her uncle's sneaky strategies, to be sure. She just could not believe that Harry had been stupid enough to fall for it. She sighed. She had no one else to blame but herself for that one.
Upon closer inspection of the gardens, after chastising Harry in her mind for falling for her uncle's trick, and herself, for allowing Harry to get so close to her, Hermione gasped.
Agamemnon stood in a corner, Ronald in front of him. Now, what on earth was he doing there?
However, this worry slipped from her mind when she looked up, where the castle's second floor balcony stood.
There were Spartans archers everywhere on the left, Trojan archers on the right. The queen of Troy was sitting on a chair in the corner, but she could still see the fight. No doubt she was sitting there so no harm could come to her. And on the left stood, Menelaus? She would not even bother glancing at him a second time.
Her eyes darted to Penelope and Odysseus, who were talking desperately to him as though urging him to do or not to do something; she could not decipher which at the moment. And Oliver…
"Hermione!"
She felt a strong pair of arms around her waist as the person took her further into the terrace and away from the fighting zone.
Fleur was already there as Oliver turned her around to face him.
"You should not be out there. You could get hurt," he said.
"I am not leaving, Harry!"
Hermione screamed as it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was bad enough that her beloved had decided to fight. It would be worse still if she was not there to make sure no harm came to him. She was not sure what she would do at the moment if Harry was under serious threat of harm, but she would find a way to do something, of that she was sure.
"Hermione, he has to do this. Not just for you, but also for himself," Oliver tried to explain, but
Hermione would not hear it.
She did not know who she was angrier at the most at this point, Harry for being so foolish, or Oliver, always the diplomat, taking after his father, no doubt, for not doing anything to stop him.
"Really? I do not see how getting killed is going to get him his father back!" she spat.
Oliver would've proceeded to explain some more, mainly because he was sure that Harry was not doing it for his father, or at least not completely to avenge Prince Hector, but the clashing of swords drowned his words, and Hermione, suffice to say, would not listen after the fight had begun.
The Princess of Sparta gasped as she caught sight of Harry fighting, with Ron?
"Nobody tries to take my fiancée and gets away with it!" she heard his disgusting voice.
Apparently, Ron had begged Agamemnon to fight, offered him something most likely; she was not certain of the details, but her uncle looked to be fuming right now. Nevertheless, she did not care; even if Agamemnon was the better fighter, Harry was still not out of danger.
Harry sighed with impatience. Achilles' son was really a pinprick. It was Agamemnon he wanted to be fighting right now. But he figured that if he could cut of the head of Hermione's fiancée, it would not be a complete waste.
Suddenly, and inadvertently, Hermione let out a gasp as she felt a shiver run through her spine, as if something was about to happen. Wasting no time in figuring out why that feeling invaded her body, her eyes glanced around for possible signs of danger, getting out of Oliver's sight for a minute, who was still attempting, uselessly, to argue with her.
Her eyes left Harry for a moment, to settle on an archer that was preparing to shoot an arrow. The arrow pointed right at Harry. She should have known her uncle would do this.
But she wasted no time looking for her uncle. Her screams overcame her as her legs carried her, seemingly out of their own accord, away from Oliver and towards Harry.
"NOOO!"
A thousand thoughts invaded her mind as she went out to save the love of her life. How would she get there in time? How would she protect him?
She hastily pushed the thoughts away as she approached Harry. The important thing right now was to get to him; the rest would come in due time.
"Hermione don't!" Oliver went behind her, Fleur with him, and he did not have time to contradict her.
Harry's eyes opened wide as he saw Hermione running towards him.
"Hermione stop!"
It all happened in a blur. But Harry saw it all in slow motion.
****
"Harry, get down!" She screamed at him, while her legs guided her to him as fast as they could, and her mantle long forgotten somewhere in the garden.
"Hermione, no! Stop!"
His eyes momentarily shifted up as he tried to figure out why he had to get down, and watched, with horror, as an arrow was released of a Spartan soldier's bow.
At that moment, Hermione was finally in front of him.
As he was stronger than her, Hermione knew she would never push him to the ground in time. So she jumped against him, fastening her arms around his neck as she settled her legs around his waist. She held him tight as her back protected his chest.
Harry did not remember what he tried to do, or if he had time to do something for that matter, only that his eyes watched in horror once more as Hermione let out as loud gasp, and the next thing he knew, his hands were drenched in her blood.
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