My Spartan

For the movie '300'. A one-shot dedicated to my favorite character, Dilios.

)- I DO NOT OWN "300" -(

The rumor of war spread quickly when the messengers came. My sister and I had been preparing dinner when it happened and though we did not see it, we were close enough to hear our King's mighty voice.

From the corner of my eye I saw my sister's cheeks turn pink. She was 16 and believed herself to be in love with our King. Sarra had been that way for as long as I could remember and I feared what would happen if anyone ever found out about her secret.

"What do you think happened?"

Sarra asked as I sat father's plate on the table.

"Those messengers who came with the heads of Kings said something that angered our King, I imagine."

I said leaving the kitchen and walked to my room. Our house was not large but it was enough for Sarra, my father, and I.

Every afternoon, when dinner was served, I sat at my window so I could see the training yard. There, in the place he was everyday, was my Spartan. Known for his story telling, he was the most skilled of them all, besides our King.

Dilios.

I smiled, tucking a strand of my dark hair behind my ear. He was sparing with a younger boy who was determined to show his elder Spartan that he was not weak. But Dilios was magnificent. He quickly had the boy on the ground and as soon as it began, it seemed, it was over. My smile soon faded as I once again reminded myself that I was as stuck as my sister. The feeling I had for Dilios could never be spoken aloud, unless he chose me as his bride.

And that was madness.

In Sparta there was no room for weakness. There was no room for romance either, not in Sparta. Only the hard and strong may call themselves Spartans.

"Zena."

I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard Sarra's voice. I turned to my sister who stood in the doorway.

"What is it Sarra?"

I asked. Sarra was a small girl but she had handsome features such as her stormy eyes, which matched mine. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders whereas mine was pulled to one side. It was often said that what my sister lacked, could be easily found in me. I knew the rules of Sparta and had a strength that was my own. Much like our Queen, I was raised with knowledge of the sword. I was 20 but in the early hours I used my father's blade and sparred with Demetre, a childhood friend, in the training yard. Sarra, however, was quiet and kept to her studies.

"One day you'll be caught doing that."

She said with a soft voice and softer smile. She walked over to the window and looked out over the yard.

"He is a fine warrior, but sitting in this window will get you nowhere."

Sarra looked at me and I laughed at her strength of hope. When I turned back I was saddened to find my Spartan was no longer there.

"And what do you propose, dear sister?"

I asked looking back to Sarra. She sat on the window seat beside me, still wearing the smile I knew all to well.

"You could go to the yard with Demetre and spar."

Sarrah suggested. The very idea made me want to laugh. Sarrah, as if sensing that, sighed.

"He will never ask for your hand if he does not know who you are. You are one of the strongest and most beautiful women in all of Sparta. Any man would be lucky and I know he would ask for your hand if given the chance."

My sister was quite the flatterer. I grabbed her hands and sqeezed them gently.

"I wish I could live inside that mind of yours."

I leaned over and kissed Sarra's forehead. Giving her one last smile I stood to return to the kitchen. Father would be finished with his dinner and it was my job to clean.

My father was once a fine warrior himself. Known for his swordsmanship and fierce Spartan personality, he fought and won many battles. Our King had praised him many times for his bravery and could have made Dillios, even our King, look like a child in the arena. This was until my mother passed. After, he became a shell of his former self. While he remain composed as the strong Spartan man, he did not eat nor sleep the way he should and if not for my sister or myself, I fear he wouldn't do either.

Turning the corner into our kitchen I find his chair still empty but his plate gone.

'He must have taken it.'

I thought. It wasn't unlike him to take his plate into his room. Sarra or I would get it when he was finished. I heard feet running through the hall and I turned in time to see Sarra round the corner.

"Quickly, Zena."

She said in a hushed tone. My confusion only grew when she took my arm and pulled me towards the front door. The red curtain that acted as the door was moving slightly against the wind and Sarra stopped there just as we reached it. The smile on her face was bright when she looked up at me.

"I saw him walking in this direction."

She whispered.

"Who?"

I asked, whispering myself. Sarra's eyes seemed to shine and she pulled me closer to the curtain.

"Your Spartan."

My eyes widened and my heartbeat quickened at my sister's response. I reached for the curtain with all the intention of only peaking. My sister, however, had different intentions.

My fingers had just gripped the curtain when I felt hands on my back pushing me forward.