Okay, so this is my first fanfic. Please be nice, but some criticism to help me improve my writing is appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of Troy. They all belong to Warner Bros.- I'm just using them.
Notes: Though this fic is based on the movie Troy and not Homer's Iliad, I might use some of his quotes.
It has been five years since Troy fell. Five years since Helen of Sparta became Helen of Troy, destroying the fragile peace between two mighty nations. It has been five years since the death of the great kings Priam and Agamemnon, and five years since the last breath of the warriors Achilles and Hector.
This is what the world remembers, what the world sees. But the people of Troy see the destruction differently. I see it differently.
For me, it has been five years since I walked barefoot on the beaches of Troy, spraying Briseis with it's frigid waters. It has been five years since I sped over the plain on a horse with the wind in my face. For the past five years, I have heard no laughter from Paris, and have heard too much crying from Andromache.
It has been five years since Hector last smiled at me.
In Troy, my life began. I grew there, I felt there, I lived there, and I loved there. But most importantly, I learned there. Between the lessons of my tutors and the ramblings of the elders, I learned my most important lessons, from the most important instructors- the people around me. Hector. Paris. Andromache. Briseis. Priam. The taught me about life, love, and the world around me. I will never forget those lessons.
My first lesson came when I was five years of age, twelve years before the Trojan War.
I give my teachings to you willingly.
May the benefit you as they have benefited me. May you learn as I have, and may you never forget.- - - - - -
It was a crowded day in the market, as usual, as I wove myself in and out of the people shopping, trading and buying. My hair hung in limply around my face and my dress was torn and tattered. I had been running for almost two days, trying to escape. I focused on the pattern of my feet falling, left, right, left, right. If my focus was at my feet, it was easier to ignore what would happen if I was caught. I was ahead now- I couldn't hear the heavy footsteps of the guards behind me- but I was still running like mad, just to be safe. My tears ran down my face, spilling into the cuts and bruises and stinging me. I couldn't get caught. I would be punished severely. Shaking my head, I turned my thoughts to my steps again.
Left, right, left, right, left, right, left-
And suddenly, I wasn't running anymore. In fact, my feet were no longer touching the ground at all. Two large hands had placed themselves gently under my arms at my waist, and lifted me in to the air. The hands spun me around as I struggled, and I found myself facing someone I had never met before.
He was tall, taller than my father was, taller than the guards who had been chasing me were. His hair was curly and brown and he was muscular under his deep blue tunic and matching cloak. And his eyes- I liked his eyes. They were warm and inviting, a deep dark brown. He wore a slight frown on his handsome face as he looked at me.
"Hector!"
I whipped my head around to see where the voice had come from, and I saw another man, mounted on a horse. He and my captor were obviously brothers, but this one was younger, and had an effortless sort of beauty that his elder sibling did not. He seemed bored.
"Hectorrr." He whined, turning toward his brother. "Leave the child and let's go. She's obviously playing some sort of game with her friends, just leave her be."
"Paris, look at her. Have you ever seen a playing child with an expression like that on her face? And look at the bruises, they're all over her! Something's not right."
Paris examined me, and I felt as if his eyes were drilling holes in my body. He nodded to Hector. Paris always trusted his brother's judgement.
Hector turned his attention to me again, smiling this time. Being at the receiving end of that smile was like basking in the rays of a thousand suns. Whether I was too frightened, or too starved of love to understand this gesture, I didn't smile back, just squirmed, trying to escape his grasp. My attempts were unsuccessful and most likely annoying. Hector didn't show any annoyance if he felt it, just smiled at me.
"What's your name, love?" He said, still smiling.
I stopped squirming and looked at him in surprise. No one who had ever spoken to me, which consisted of my brothers and my father, had ever referred to me as "love". In fact, no one who had ever spoken to me had ever referred to me with any kind of nicety at all. If I was not being called by my name, I was referred to as either "the girl" or "wench".
"Charis." My voice was barely a whisper, but he must have had keen hearing.
"Charis. Pretty name, meaning 'grace'. It fits you." He was still smiling at me, and I felt myself feebly smiling back.
"Thank you, my lord."
He laughed. "And what manners!"
I didn't giggle or react, just stared at him. No one had ever been nice to me before. I felt uncomfortable with his kindness, and didn't how to respond to it.
He was still smiling and looking at me. "Why are you running, Charis?"
I shook my head at him. "I can't tell you." I said, tearing up again.
He frowned a little, and I instantly felt sorry I was the one to banish his smile. "Why can't you tell me?"
"Because he'll hurt me." I whispered.
Hector's frown deepened. "Who will hurt you?"
"My father… he does bad things to me…" I said, my voice trailing off as I pointed to the bruises and cuts on my face and arms.
Hector frowned more. "Why does he hurt you?"
"Lots of things." I said, not looking at him.
"Like what?"
"Sometimes he gets mad at me. He doesn't like it when I leave spots on the floor when I clean. He doesn't like it when I don't clean his clothes right. He doesn't like it when I talk to him or fight." I whispered, tears falling down my face.
"Whoa." Paris whispered from his horse, staring at me. "She can't be more than five or six."
"Paris." Said Hector sternly, and he turned his attention back to me. "Where are you going, Charis?"
But that's when I heard the pounding of the footsteps I knew to be the guards. I began squirming with all my might, and Hector frowned again. Instead of releasing me, he spun me around and placed me on top of his horse. I began to cry. I was very small for my age, and even for a normal five-year-old it would have been an impressive feat to get down from his horse without killing oneself. Hector put a finger to my lips.
"You can't let him find me!" I cried, my voice shaking. "He'll hurt me!" Hector put a finger to my lips.
"Shhh." He said, putting his hand on my head. "Don't make a sound, and you'll be alright. I won't let them hurt you, I promise."
I hiccuped gratefully, but didn't believe him. What could he do to protect me from my father?
When the guards came into view, my father with them, I contemplated jumping off the horse and risking whatever injuries I would undoubtedly sustain, but Hector put his arm on the other side of the horse, preventing me from jumping. The guards stopped, and one tried to push Hector out of the way.
"That girl is property of the Lord Egan of Troy. Step aside ple-"
The guard stopped mid-sentence, turned beat red, and plunged himself into a low bow.
"My lord, Prince Hector. I'm sorry, I did not recognize you, please forgive me."
Hector nodded and the man stood.
"What's the problem here?" Hector said sternly. He sounded every bit the prince when he used that tone of voice.
"I can explain, My lord." My father stepped out from behind one of the guards, his voice oily, cane in hand. At the sight of that cane I involuntarily shuddered, and my hand flew to one of the bruises on my face. Hector followed my gaze to the cane and his jaw tightened. He was no fool.
"My daughter, Charis, she's a bit slow. She doesn't understand her place in my household, My lord, and she needs to be taught. This morning she got away while she was supposed to be doing chores, and well, you know how children can be, I'm sure." He smiled at me, but his smile did not have the effect Hector's did. In fact, it was quite the opposite- like the skies had closed and rain was drenching my spirits. I choked to hold back the tears.
Hector smiled at my father, but it was a false smile, nothing like the one he had given me. With a flick of his hand he dismissed the guards.
"Do you have many children, Lord Egan? "
My father grinned proudly. "Yes, My lord, many. I have 6, 5 boys and my darling daughter." He said, pointing to me and giving Hector another one of his fake smiles. "I'm proud of them all, even her. She makes a good servant, when she obeys, of course."
"Of course." Hector said, gritting his teeth. "But do you think you could spare her? As you must know, I was recently married, and my wife desires a new handmaiden to train to her liking. Your daughter seems a fine specimen, and I would be willing to pay nicely. No need to have her pack anything, either, I'll see she's fitted with the proper garments." He tossed a bag full of coins at my father, whose eyes grew as big as saucers to see such riches. He bowed eagerly.
"Of course, Lord Hector, she is yours to keep. It is a sacrifice, as I love her so. But anything for a Prince." He turned to me, and kissed my cheek. I flinched. "Goodbye, my dear Charis, may you live and prosper." He turned to Hector. "Take good care of her, My lord." And without another word, he disappeared into the crowded market place, leaving me in a state of disbelief.
" 'She doesn't understand her place in my household, My lord, and she needs to be taught.' " Paris snorted, mimicking my father as soon as he had left. "What a fat sack of wine. He sold his own daughter for a few coins!"
"Paris!" Hector scolded, mounting behind me. "Not in front of the child." With that we set off toward the castle. I did not know what awaited me, but I knew it was better than what I had come from.
"You're safe now." Hector whispered. "You'll like it at the castle, I promise. Your father can't harm you again."
I felt reassured. With the rhythm of the horse below me, Hector behind me, and my newfound relief, I couldn't keep myself awake. After all, I had been running for quite a while without stopping, and for the first time in my life, I felt safe. Falling into a gentle sleep, I realized something.
And that was the first lesson I learned through the royal family, taught to me by Hector: Never give up hope, for in your darkest moments, you could be mere steps away from salvation.