Shouts echoed, filling the air with the screams of dying men. Generals rallied their soldiers, urging them to take on the enemy – and they did, with renewed vigour. Will drove his sword into another Trojan, another foe, another man. Another life taken by his hand. Another wife who would yell and cry and weep at the news of her husband's death. Another child left fatherless.

Will gritted his teeth in determination, the thought of his sisters driving him on. Strong Ella, who even now worked tirelessly to heal the wounded, and vulnerable Cecily, whose big mouth would be getting her into trouble. The sun pounded down on Will's helm, and he blinked away the sweat as he paused in a momentary reprieve.

Before him, Achilles cleared the way for the Greek army, bellowing for the men to follow him. And follow they did, with war cries and shields raised. Will joined them unwillingly.

Nine years of war. Nine years away from his home, his parents. Nine years of death and suffering and everything he had never wanted to see.

Will had been lucky enough to survive this far, and he was utterly grateful to the gods for ensuring his survival. Each night he prayed that he would make it through the next day, and each day he survived was another day closer to the end of the war.

But in truth, no one knew how long the war would go on for. Will didn't think it was worth it, either – all this suffering over one woman. He couldn't deny that Helen of Sparta (although she was of Troy now) was a beautiful woman, perhaps the most beautiful he'd ever laid eyes on, but he was sure there was someone waiting for him. Will believed in soulmates, that the gods had chosen someone to be his for all eternity. He just hadn't found them yet.

Or maybe he already had.

An arrow whistled through the air, and Will's first instinct was to duck. He hid behind his shield, and felt a thud as the arrow reflected off harmlessly. As he brought his shield down, he found himself face to face with a Trojan. Will raised his sword, settling into a fighting stance. However, the Trojan did not attack, instead staring at Will with an intensity he could feel through his helm. Anxiety fluttered through Will's chest. What was the Trojan doing? Why didn't he advance?

With one swift motion, Will's adversary removed his own helm and Will stared in shock. It was suicide to remove your armour in the midst of a battle – even children knew that! But that was not what held Will's attention. His eyes were fixed on the silver hair, the silver eyes of the man standing before him.

Will knew this man. They had met nine years ago, when Paris of Troy came to Sparta and stole away the king's wife. This was James Carstairs; a man who made Will hesitate and question all that he believed in.

Will's sword lowered, his feet taking him closer to his enemy. It didn't once cross his mind that this could be a trick; that James could be playing with him. He trusted James, an honour he did not give out lightly ever since a family friend, a friend to Will, betrayed Will's father and cursed Will himself that whomever he loved would die. Ella nearly died protecting him that night, and Will had pushed her away, certain that he would kill her. Even now he didn't allow himself to see his sisters, except on the rare occasion he was weak and gave in, looking on his sisters from afar, protecting them as a brother should.

But what a terrible brother he has become.

James reminded him of all that he once was, the man he had been before he allowed darkness to enter his mind. James was good and kind and pure, and everything Will knew he was not.

And so as he stood on that field, James' silver hair glinting in the harsh sunlight, Will removed his own helm, a gesture of faith, that he would not harm James – his friend. Yet he knew he should – James was his sworn enemy, simply by the misfortune of both of their births.

James stepped closer, blinding Will as the light rebounded off his polished armour. His voice was gentle, as it always was; yet Will had no trouble hearing his words.

It it a cruel fate, ours. To meet as friends in your homeland, and as enemies in mine. Alas, we cannot change what the gods have determined. We are indeed enemies, William Herondale, but will you kill me?

Will's breath left him as if James had knocked it out of him. He had forgotten the effect the other man had on him, how he always sought to make Will think. All around them, men fought for victory, for glory, for survival. It should have been the most dangerous place to talk, but instead it was the safest. No one would question why a Trojan and a Greek were facing each other – but they would question why they were both helmless and not killing each other. Some might understand, having friends in the opposing race. Some might sympathise. But most wouldn't care to listen, wouldn't care to recognise a friend.

I do not wish to kill my friend, no matter his race.

James smiled at Will's reply, and Will marvelled that he still could make such an expression. He knew that it took a lot to make himself smile – especially now, especially with the rising tensions between Achilles and Agamemnon, especially with his sisters so exposed.

You worry for your family. They will not be able to support themselves if you die.

Will's eyes flicked up to meet James'. He was always so observant. But what he wanted, he was always able to keep to himself. Will admired that about him – he himself had never been able to conceal his needs from others, except when lives depended on it.

What of you? Surely you have a family to feed and house within that great city of yours.

James' reaction to Will's reply surprised him greatly. James' eyes lowered, and his entire countenance seemed to deflate. Will realised that it was his words that caused James to feel pain, and hated himself for it.

No, William. I do not.

The battle froze around them. Will berated himself for being so unfeeling – they were in the middle of a battle, and it would be easy for James to kill him or to allow someone else. But at the return of James' smile, Will relaxed, wondering how he had become so untrusting.

Then why do you fight? Is it for honour? For glory?

James tilted his head, amusement shining in his eyes. He shook his head, and Will furrowed his brow in confusion. They were the only reasons he could think of that a man would fight, unless he had been forced. But if Will knew James, even only a little, he knew that James would never allow himself to be pressured into something he truly didn't want to do.

A sword swung dangerously close to Will's unprotected neck and upon hearing James' cry, he ducked out of harm's reach. Standing up again, he found James had closed the distance between them.

I fight for my friends. I fight for our freedom, and for the liberty to choose my friends based on who they are, not who their king is.

Will's incredulous smile took even himself by surprise as he gripped James' forearm in a warrior's embrace. They stayed that way for a long moment, and not even the gods could've forced them to part.

But the moment passed, the sounds of war filled Will's ears once again and somehow his helm found its way back to his head. The time for words was past, and the sun dipped lower in the sky than he remembered.

Then I hope to meet you again under better circumstances, my friend.

Will hefted his sword and shield, realising the tide of the battle had changed and Hector, horse-lord, was beginning to beat Will's people back. He had to retreat. He had to rejoin his family, his king.

If you truly wish that, I will be in the forest over there at sunup tomorrow. No, do not ask questions, simply meet me there. I will find you if you decide to come.

Will knew James was taking a great risk even offering this. Why he was doing so Will did not know. It was unlike James – brash, hasty, not thought through. Everything in Will screamed to decline and leave; he was being surrounded by more and more Trojans with every passing second. His very nature told him not to accept James' offer, his training told him that it could be nothing except a trap.

But nothing could've prepared Will for meeting the kindest and most noble man in Troy, and even less could've prevented him from becoming that man's friend.

I will be there.

Will made a vow to James and to himself with those four words. He vowed that he wouldn't allow James to die because of the curse upon Will – if he even suspected that James was beginning to care for him more than a friend should, then Will would leave. He also vowed that he would look after James, as a brother should. If he couldn't be a brother to his own family, then he could at least be a brother to his friend. James deserved that much, especially after their meeting in Sparta, when he helped Will through so much.

A cry from Achilles prompted Will into action. He forced his way through the carnage, not once daring to look back at his friend for fear of what he would find. War was a terrible mistress, giving certain victory to one side before ripping it away with the ice-cold fingers of death. It might be that James would not even be at the forest tomorrow. But Will knew he must have faith in James, or the worst would indeed come to pass.

Slowly he made his way through the throngs of enemies and friends alike, slaying those he must and sparing those he could. A comrade slapped Will on the back as he finally reached safety, congratulating him on surviving. Will replied in kind, talking for a while before retreating to his hut, feigning exhaustion. Naturally, it wasn't all pretence, and Will was thankful for the time to think and recover from his unexpected meeting.

He stripped off his armour and left the hut to allow his friend, Echion, to rest and recover, for he had been wounded and needed sleep. Will wandered aimlessly through the camp, making sure to avoid the healer's section. If either of his sisters caught sight of him, there would be no escape.

Soon, his thoughts turned to his promise to James. He was a man of his word, despite all else, and he knew he would meet James in the woods, damn the consequences.

I will be there.

In the centre of the Achaeans' camp, various leaders assembled their soldiers, either praising or condemning them for their actions that day. Will stood on the outskirts, and he was neither raised nor destroyed by his leader. The gods were watching over him and he was grateful.

Will knew that he could be put to death for even considering accepting James' offer. He knew he would definitely be killed if he were found. But Will enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the excitement of always wondering whether there is lurking around every corner. He wondered if that made him a bad man. He decided he didn't care.

The sun still shone on, bathing the camp in rays of bronze and gold. As the sun god sluggishly descended below the horizon, Will closed his eyes, feeling the heat upon his face. He knew what he was going to do. There had never been a choice.

I will be there.

Author's Note: Hey everyone! Here is the Trojan AU, as promised. Please review - they encourage me to write faster!

This has not been beta-d, and I do not know if it will be. In truth, I am not quite sure where this story is headed. I also have many exams at school, so don't expect a quick update.

Much love,

TheMusicalDevil