Troy

Summary: Unfortunately even Enkidu, the man created by the gods, the High King of Uruk's equal in all things is having trouble dealing with his egotistical friend and King. So, the gods decide to create something else that will indefinitely draw the eye of the troublesome demigod. What better way to bring about the downfall of a man than by the use of a woman?

Humor/R&R

"When she was just a girl, she expected the world. But it flew away from her reach so she ran away in her sleep."- Coldplay

Chapter 1: Paradise Lost

It seemed as though the two had come to a mutual understanding, if only for a second.

It's you.

Green eyes, a light emerald shade, clashed with blood red. She stared up at him, contempt, disdain, and condescension all hidden expertly behind a tender smile. He smirked and she grimaced.

"Girl, answer me this. Have you gone mad?" A valid question, she admitted. She herself had begun wondering her level of sanity for pulling this stunt. One minute she was cloud watching under the noonday sun and the next she was here on her knees, hands bound behind her. How time flies.

"I'm afraid not, your highness. I am completely sane."

"Then tell me. What on earth would possess you that you, a girl no less, would dare try to steal from me?"

"Nothing possessed me, your highness. I simple felt like it." Malak would have a heart attack if he saw her now. Luckily he knew nothing of her little escapade.

"You felt like it?" He repeated slowly in an attempt to grasp the words spoken.

She nodded. "That is correct."

"Well, what if I feel like slitting your throat?" He was angry. Oh shit, he was angry. The green-eyed girl took in a long slow breath. Calm, keep calm.

He can't hurt you, she reminded herself. All she had to do was breathe and deal the hand she had been dealt. Reminding herself of everything at stake, she flashed him a Cheshire smile. "Then I invite you to do so."

He smiled. Good. "Hah! I applaud your audacity, girl. Not many women have that and with good reason too. For amusing me, I promise you this: Your death will be painless." He immediately gestured toward a nearby servant who would no doubt alert the executioner of his next victim.

The girl sighed deeply. The more he knew the better. This was her last option. If anyone could free her from this curse, then it would be him. If not, then Uruk would burn along with its king and the rest of Mesopotamia would see death on a scale that not even the gods could imagine. "Can we hurry this up please?"

The golden king arched a fine brow. "Usually the mongrels I condemn are begging for their lives right about now. Why are you in such a rush to die, girl?"

Show-time. It was time to sell it. "While I was traveling through great Mesopotamia, I unfortunately ran out of food upon reaching Uruk, my destination. Yours is a flourishing city, my liege, and yet no one could spare me a single morsel. I would rather die a somewhat meaningful death by the sword than starving to death and having the vultures peck at my corpse. Who would easily forget the girl who foolishly tried to steal from Uruk's most illustrious king?"

The girl bit her bottom lip, eyes focusing on the marble floor. There had better be a story or two written about her if she actually managed to pull this off. The servant returned, a look of unease crossing her face as she handed an ornate dagger to her king.

The blonde man hummed faintly, turning the knife over in his hands. "You couldn't have gone to a tavern?"

Lips forming a nasty sneer, she practically hissed, "A woman does not have the right to buy or sell anything without the presence of her keeper-a man. Unfortunate, isn't it?"

"Unfortunate, indeed." The young king rose from his throne and waltzed casually towards her. She glared fiercely despite the smile that seemed permanently etched onto her face. "What is your name?"

"Pandora."

He placed a hand at the back of her neck, the tip of the knife pricking her chest. At that position, it would go straight through her heart and would be virtually painless. How ironic. Well, at least he was honest. Her eyes widened as realization struck her like a blow to the head.

He knew.

"A shame. You have such beautiful eyes." In one swift and fluid motion, he thrust the knife into her chest, his eyes never leaving hers.

I'm sorry.

"Likewise."


She was a determined one.

A woman who held a certain fire in her eyes not unlike the insurgents he had cut down in his quest for perfection in all things. Her cause was noble and her fighting spirit something to be admired. All in all, he had honestly come to care for the woman, stubborn as she was.

She was an amusing thing.

He had made it a point to forgive her of all her offenses against him, as numerous as they were. Nevertheless, he proclaimed time and time again that he would treasure the serenity and humor her presence gave. "Not a single man in this era or the next would be worthy of you," he had said, wine glass in hand.

One would think that love would be much more exciting albeit just as maddening. However, these things rarely turned out as they should. He was a fickle man. It would take merely one word for the object of his passionate fixation to instantly fall from grace. His right hand gently stroked her head which rested listlessly on his shoulder. His left was at her back feebly attempting to halt the blood from slipping through his fingers.

Amidst the carnage and corpses, a thought occurred to him, a single truth. He felt it in his bones, rushing down his spine, rattling around in his skull, singeing his blood, and sparking at his fingertips.

This is wrong.

"Gil."

If the one woman who had consistently proven herself to be worthy of his love was to be stolen from him, then it was wrong.

"Gil."

If she was doomed to die like a dog in the dirt, then it simply was wrong. This world was wrong.

"We could create a paradise, you know."

He sighed shakily. "Yes, I know. Do not worry. I will make sure that your dream is fully realized. You have my word."

She smiled. "Thank you."


Gilgamesh was a pretty predictable person. He could not deny this. The young king rarely deviated from his strict step-by-step routine that consisted of running his city and doing whatever the hell he felt like doing. A dull and monotonous life but his duty nonetheless.

Gilgamesh was not a morning person as more than a few servant had painfully come to realize. Which was why when he awoke in the early hours of the morning in a cold sweat, it could have been seen as a bit out of character.

Only a handful of people knew that the king of Uruk had been having a recurring dream as of late. It started with joy and ended in heartbreak and by the time he woke up the next morning he could recall next to nothing about the dream. The prophets and priests surmised that it was a product of stress and overwork.

Isra, one of the newest female servants, called absolute bullshit. Malak, a veteran of sorts around the palace, did as well. Rumors fly within the servants' quarters. The latest scoop flitting from ear to ear was on a prisoner scheduled to face what the servants liked to call 'judgement' for an attempted theft two nights ago. It wasn't long before Isra was summoned to report on the happenings of two nights before.

She was surprisingly glad the thief had decided to try his luck. There was a certain excitement to the ordeal and Isra would accept nearly anything the take the edge off of the drone of everyday life. To her surprise, however, the thief was a young woman.

The girl was striking despite her ragged appearance. It appeared as though Gilgamesh thought the same considering the bewildered look on his face. Her hair was cut short like a man's-a common trend among unmarried women-and white like the clouds, giving a nice contrast with her tanned skin.

Call it intuition but it didn't take long for Isra to notice that this girl was strange. There was something indefinitely off about the green-eyed girl. Off her rocker, perhaps. She appeared to be fearless when staring down death itself.

Now, Isra thought herself to be as loyal as they come but even she would admit that her king was someone to tread lightly around. One misspoken word and you'll have lost your tongue. The only exception to this rule was Enkidu. Most people were aware of this-even the citizens were somewhat aware of this. Or that's what she had assumed. Isra had not counted on coming across someone-anyone out of their mind enough to talk back to Gilgamesh.

He enjoyed it, though. A nice change of pace for him, no doubt. Not that it changed the outcome by much.

Isra was loyal. But her king could be ruthless when he wanted to be.

Although instead of having her fetch the executioner who took pride in his art of giving criminals slow and painful deaths, Gilgamesh requested that she bring him a knife, any knife. Not from the treasury, of course, but the sheer fact that he was willing to do the deed himself spoke volumes.

That girl, Pandora, was strange indeed.

Malak was summoned to dispose of the body. He went white the moment he laid eyes on lifeless corpse.

"You know her," Gilgamesh inquired, his words sounding more like a statement than a question.

Malak bowed lowly. "No, my liege. I do not know this woman." Isra resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The man couldn't lie to save his life.

"Then hurry up and remove the body before it makes a bigger mess."

Gingerly, he lifted the body into his arms and stalked off. Isra followed discretely out of genuine concern and morbid curiosity.


Rounding corners and shuffling down endless hallways, Malak made his way to his own room. Being one of the more senior officers had its perks. He scoped out his surroundings, making sure as sugar that not a soul was in sight before promptly dropping the 'lifeless body' on the floor. "No one else is around Pan, you can stop playing dead."

Her eyes fluttered open. "Are you sure because due to my newly found head injury, I believe there might be three of you." Green eyes blinked innocently at the dark-haired man, a close friend and co-conspirator in her impossible scheme. She frowned at his expression of poorly hidden rage. "You're angry."

"No shit," he snapped.

"I have an explanation," she replied, jolting upright and flailing about wildly.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I bet you do. Why did you come here? I said that I would handle it."

"You were taking too long," she said curtly, stretching her arms and rubbing her wrists. Pandora had been sprawled out, hands bound, on the cold, hard, marble floor for at least twenty minutes before Malak had arrived. The woes of living in an obnoxiously large and opulent palace must include more than a few communication problems. There were probably a ton of neat hiding places. She smirked at the thought.

"Taking too-fine. Fine. Have it your way." The tall amber-eyed man held up his hands in submission.

Pandora shook her head, tutting admonishingly. "Malak, I think you need to take a breath and calm-"

"Don't you even try that with me. My head will roll if anything bad happens to you. Have you forgotten that?"

"No, I haven't forgotten."

"Do you care?"

"Of course I do! But in my defense, next to nothing on this earth can hurt me. You and I both know that."

"You're not invincible Pan. You might think you are, but you're just not. We have to be careful on how we handle this. One slip up, just one, and we will be branded as traitors of the state. They can kill me but I can't say what they'll do to you."

"Malak, are you-" There he stood conversing with a should-be dead woman, standing upright, arms folded across her chest, and looking anything but deceased.

Malak sighed, running a hand through his dark, curly hair. "...Please don't freak out."

"What. The. Hell."

Malak groaned, massaging his temples. "I specifically said 'do not freak out'. Is anybody listening to me today?"

"She was stabbed in the heart. She died-she was dead."

"Not quite," Pandora interjected in a singsong voice.

Malak pointed accusingly at her. "You, stay out of this." He turned to Isra, putting both hands firmly on her shoulders. "Isra, listen to me carefully. Go get Gilgamesh."

"Malak," the brown-eyed girl ground out. "What in heaven's name-"

He cut her off "-Just go, please. Think of this as a huge favor I'll have to repay one day."

Well, he had her there. "Whatever all of this is," she motioned mainly in Pandora's direction. "You owe me big-time for it." Pandora waved playfully and Isra fought back a shudder. Once again, her intuition was spot on. That girl was off.

"You have such a way with words," she mused softly.

"What can I say? You rub off on people."


Green eyes flickered mischievously, her lips curving into a sickly sweet smile when a familiar golden figure was seen stalking towards them. "Hey there," she greeted. "Long time, no see."

Gilgamesh halted mid-stride and gawked. "I killed you."

Hello again.

Her head tilted sideways, brows furrowing as she feigned memory trouble. "Mhmm, yes, you most certainly did do that."

The young king frowned, ignoring the two other presences and circled the grinning girl. She looked absolutely ecstatic. "I killed you."

How are you?

She fought back giggles as she spoke, the image of a smiling blonde crossing her mind. "Okay, let's start this thing over, shall we? My name is Pandora, I am just a smidgen immortal and if you would kindly give me the time of day, I can explain everything."

His lips formed a thin line. "You have five minutes."

Pandora sighed happily, swinging her arms back and forth like a small child. "Gilgamesh, King of Uruk, I have a proposition for you."

It's me.

"Speak, girl I do not have all day to waste on your nonsense," he commanded. Her smile faltered for a brief second. The young king caught sight of a venomous glare before it faded behind a glass smile.

"To make a long story short. All but a handful of gods are extremely pissed at you and your people and they want to teach you a lesson. So, they chose me to teach it and told me to seek refuge with the Assyrians so that we may bring about the destruction of all of Mesopotamia."

You remember me, don't you?

Gilgamesh frowned deeply, opening his mouth to speak but Pandora put a finger to his lips and shushed him. Isra blinked owlishly and Malak busied himself with studied the intricacies of the plain white walls. There was a first time for everything, after all.

"I know what you're going to say so, please don't say it. I refused this idea because I didn't feel like being horrifically murdered anytime soon-you know how those Assyrians are-and I decided to come to you instead," Pandora explained.

You know who I am.

"I see. Although that doesn't explain why you tried to steal from me."

"Getting to that...On my way here Ninsun, your mother, seeing as she wished for the survival of her one and only beloved son, blessed me and now I have a this tiny little problem. I can't die."

The blonde shrugged. "I don't see how that's a problem."

"Of course you don't. Anyway, the reason I stole from-"

"-Attempted to steal. It isn't as if you actually got away with it. Do not hide the truth." Pandora's face twitched. Ah patience, one of the world's most sanity-trying virtues.

"Right. Would you have believed me if I hadn't have concocted this elaborate scheme to get your attention? Be honest."

I know who you are so, please. Tell me.

"Probably not," he admitted.

"So, you see my point. My proposition is this: In exchange for assistance in defeating the Assyrians when they attempt and invasion, I ask that you get your mother to lift her curse-blessing, blessing."

Do you know who I am?

She held out a hand. "Do we have a deal?"

"No."

I do not know you.

Green eyes blinked and the white-haired girl sighed heavily, receding her offering hand. A look of genuine disappointment colored her features. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. She was a fool for considering any different. After all, she knew the golden figure of opulence and riches standing before her. And he knew her. He had to.

Pandora chuckled softly. "I thought as much."

Liar.

She hated to admit it but she did love a challenge. And what better challenge than making a king bow to your will?

Pandora smirked at the thought.


A/N: Hello everyone. Thanks for reading! This is my first story for the whole realm of Fate Stay Night series and I hoped you liked it. I know Pandora may seem a little bit on the wacky side but please give her patience and time. :D Oh and the whole immortality thing, do not fear, it has certain limitations that I will address later in the story. Gilgamesh will be forced out of his comfort zone and may be a little different since he can't immediately kill the source of his annoyance but please, bear with me.

- Always yours, K.N.