Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs and parts of the storyline. All rights go to Wolfgang Petersen.

A/N: Next chapter is up! Hope you enjoy.

Ch. 3

IN heaven-high musings and many,

Far-seeking and deep debate,

Of strong things find I not any

That is as the strength of Fate.

Help nor healing is told

In soothsayings uttered of old,

In the Thracian runes, the verses

Engraven of Orpheus' pen;

No balm of virtue to save

Apollo aforetime gave,

Who stayeth with tender mercies

The plagues of the children of men.

She hath not her habitation

In temples that hands have wrought;

Him that bringeth oblation,

Behold, she heedeth him naught.

Be thou not wroth with us more,

O mistress, than heretofore;

For what God willeth soever,

That thou bringest to be;

Thou breakest in sunder the brand

Far forged in the Iron Land;

Thine heart is cruel, and never

Came pity anigh unto thee.

Thee, too, O King, hath she taken

And bound in her tenfold chain;

Yet faint not, neither complain:

The dead thou wilt no awaken

For all thy weeping again.

They perish, whom gods begot;

The night releaseth them not.

Beloved was she that died

And dear shall ever abide,

For this was the queen among women,

Admetus, that lay by thy side.

Not as the multitude lowly

Asleep in their sepulchres,

Not as their grave be hers,

But like as the gods held holy,

The worship of wayfarers.

Yea, all that travel the way

Far off shall see it and say,

Lo, erst for her lord she died,

To-day she sitteth enskied;

Hail, lady, be gracious to usward;

That always her honor abide.

~The Strength of Fate, Aeschylus

"So.." spoke Zeus to the other gods and goddesses of Olympus who sat in council that morning, Apollo having performed his duties, dragging the sun up to its height while the moon was pulled back into the ocean, "What news of our champion?" He looked towards Athena and Apollo for answers as they were Panthea's patrons.

The two siblings looked between each other, asking silently who would speak first. Athena nodded, telling her younger brother she would tell their supreme father what had been occurring. She stood up from her chair, nodding her head respectfully to her father. "My lord, there has been much progress with Panthea. She has grown quite well, being taught in all subjects such as politics, philosophy, warfare, literature, law, music, and more. Menelaus has taught her to be a warrior unlike the other women of Greece. He treats her as his equal and has deemed her his heir even though he may still have sons by Helen. Helen dotes on her daughter, but she tries to reign her in. She wants Panthea to be a lady and nothing more."

Zeus nodded thoughtfully at Athena, beckoning her to continue.

"We have sent her visions as well father, to inform her of the mission we have bestowed upon her. She didn't quite understand them when we first sent them. She was frightened, the visions first appearing at the early age of three." She frowned at her brother. "Apollo was a little too eager." Apollo had the decency to look embarrassed, but still grinned at his elder sister. "We tried again a few years later. She was curious, not scared anymore. Apollo enabled both of us to visit her dreams and speak to her. We gained her trust while she slept, becoming her friends that any child would want. Once she reached the age of 12, we revealed to her what her true purpose was in life. Instead of being shocked, Panthea only smiled. It seemed as if she had known the entire time. She is intelligent father, much more than we expected."

Zeus grinned at Athena's comment. "Of course, she is. She is my granddaughter. What child of Zeus would not be knowledgeable?" He was proud, that much was evident. Hera scowled beside him, not enjoying the attention her husband's past dalliances were receiving. She had tried everything in her power to eliminate the women whom she considered her enemies, but it never truly worked. Zeus would be angered at her actions as well as his children, some of which resided on Olympus with him and were the products of Zeus and his mistresses. She felt slighted, angered that Zeus thought he could continue to stray from her. Hera had accepted her fate though, choosing to cause havoc for her enemies rather than protest her husband's actions any more than she already had. It was no use.

"Father," Apollo said. Zeus turned to look at his golden son. "There has also been another development. Achilles has become enamored with her. He protected her today when they were ambushed and she clung to his side the entire time." He grinned at Zeus before smirking at his so-called stepmother. Hera rolled her eyes at his antics.

"Really? Well this is a turn of events, though not for the worse. We can use this to our advantage. Achilles is already against Agamemnon. Panthea will add to that." Athena and Apollo both nodded at Zeus's words as well as the other gods and goddesses. "The House of Atreus will soon be destroyed and Panthea will rule in their stead. Now let us end our council. I have matters to attend to." Rising from his throne, Zeus exited the council chambers, the others bowing as he departed.

As soon as Zeus as disappeared, Hera turned to speak to her stepchildren, spitting out the words in disgust. "Just because Achilles desires the girl does not mean anything. Thetis will hear of this and will dissuade her son from his actions. I can assure of that. That man deserves more than some trollop. Anyways, if he haves her, who's to say he will want to keep her? Achilles has no time for women. He has displayed that notion over and over again."

"You hold your vile tongue Hera. Unlike father, Panthea can hold a man's attention far longer than you can." Apollo seethed in anger as he yelled the insult at Hera. He had become fond of the girl, she was his niece after all. Athena and Artemis both had to hold their brother back before he said anything rasher than he already had. Hephaestus stood by his mother's side as well as Ares, both glowering at their brother. Aphrodite, Hestia, Dionysus, and Demeter stood between the feuding pairs and Poseidon had exited once he saw things were about to get heated up. He wanted no part in the matter.

"Enough of this nonsense. Let's all depart and forget this matter," Demeter spoke. She was always the negotiator of things, mediating between the gods. Apollo nodded at his father's other consort, being able to tolerate her far more than Hera. He quickly left the room, his two sisters following in his wake. The matter had been settled for now, but there was no telling when Hera would bring it up again.

Zeus had viewed the argument, having settled in the alcove above in one of his many forms: an eagle. He was disappointed at what had occurred, Hera having let her emotions take over her again. Apollo had been wrong too, but Zeus sympathized with him. Panthea was his granddaughter as she was Apollo's niece and Hera would have to get used to it. Zeus would not apologize for his escapades, he was a man after all, an immortal god, and Hera was not the best of wives herself.

Taking off from his perch, Zeus made the trip from Olympus to the mortal world below. He would have to see Panthea for himself. He could not always rely on everything his children told him. He needed to see things for himself sometimes.

Soaring through the open sky, he looked down with his bird's eye view, scanning the ground for the Mycenaean palace. Finding his destination, he flew down swiftly until he came to a balcony, Panthea's balcony to me more specific. Landing on the ledge, he spotted Helen's ladies packing. Apparently, they would be returning to Sparta after the ordeal that had occurred.

Looking more closely, he saw Helen cradling Panthea in her arms. Panthea was crying silently, small tears falling down her cheeks. She every right to. No girl should have to go through that type of ordeal and be manhandled by complete strangers, many of whom would have raped her if they had completed their mission. Zeus cringed at the thought. He would never let that happen to his champion. Perhaps he would need Apollo and Athena to watch her more closely. They had been watching her enough, more than he commanded, but if something like this were to happen again, he would like them to intervene, being clouded by achlys to avoid being seen directly. Only Panthea would be able to see them, no one else.

Zeus observed the pair for a few more moments, noting the differences between mother and daughter. They both had the same eyes although Panthea's had a slight green tint to them, just as Zeus's did. While Helen had golden curls, Panthea's were white-blond. Helen's skin was bronze while Panthea's was a pale white no matter how much time she spent outside. They were truly opposites, but both had their own beauty.

Taking one last look, Zeus departed from his spot and flew towards the sun as he traveled his way back to Olympus.

The next morning, just as the sun began to rise over the horizon, casting its shades of pinks, reds, oranges, and yellows across the sky and ground, Menelaus and his retinue left for his kingdom of Sparta. Helen was glad to leave, wanting to be nowhere near Agamemnon anymore. She hated the man and only tolerated him for her sister's sake. He was cruel, greedy, and a menace, something she could not stand. Her husband could be cruel too, although it had to do with marriage matters rather than taking over the entire world. Agamemnon always had to brag about how he conquered the world. He did not such thing, merely used other men to achieve his goals. Helen was sickened at the thought that one day he could use her Panthea for his goals and she shuddered at the thought.

Looking over at her daughter in the lavish carriage they were riding, she noticed Panthea's downcast face. She was still disturbed by the events that had taken place two days ago. Grabbing Panthea's hand, Helen pressed a small kiss to it and gestured for Panthea to lie on her lap. Panthea conceded to her mother's request, laying her head down softly in her mother's lap as she began to stroke her hair and sing a lullaby to her.

Sitting across from them was Alexandra and Hermione, who was already sleeping. Her nine-year-old self was not used to waking up so early and she had drifted back off to sleep as soon as the journey began. Helen smiled at the sight before returning her attention back to her eldest daughter.

It was then that Menelaus had decided to announce his presence, clearing his throat as he rode next to the window of the carriage on his gallant steed. He looked like a hulking monster on the horse, a rough beard covering his face and scars all over his body. "Is she alright?" he questioned softly, not wanting to disturb his daughters.

"She is fine," Helen responded, "but she is still uneasy."

"I thought so." Menelaus was still concerned for Panthea, knowing the event had probably shook her to the core. It would take a lot of coaxing before Panthea would join Menelaus on a hunt or even in training again. Perhaps even taking walks outside with her mother would be a problem now. It seemed as if Panthea just wanted to coup herself up inside all day and keep to herself.

"I've arranged for you, Panthea, and Hermione to have more guards while you're out or even when you are only in your chambers. I don't want anything like this to happen again. Agamemnon's affairs are not my wife's and children's problems, but mine. Men should know that."

"Thank you my lord," Helen replied. "I appreciate it very much." She was grateful that her husband still cared enough to grant protection for herself rather than just for their children.

Menelaus nodded at her words before speaking again. "I also have something else to tell you." He looked to Helen for any signs he had upset her. She showed none, but kept silent. "Achilles will be joining us in Sparta. He will be our guest for a few weeks. He inquired after Panthea's health and wished to make sure she is alright. He has also asked if his cousin Patroclus and her could be introduced. They are about the same age and perhaps we could make a match between the two."

Helen was seething as she heard her husband. "No, I won't allow it. I don't want that man anywhere near Panthea. Don't you see what he's doing? He's playing you. He doesn't want Patroclus to meet her, he wants her for himself. Don't you see the way he looks at her, how all the men look at her? I want a say in who her husband is. And I say Achilles will not be the man. He may not even want her in that way. He may just take her and leave her like he does all those other women…."

Helen was cut off by the gruff voice of Menelaus. "I will not have you speak against that man in any way. He's a fine warrior and whether he wants her or not is not your business. I will take of this. And if I deem the match worthy, then it is so. You will not speak against me woman." The conversation was ended then because Menelaus had spurred his horse forward. Helen sighed in frustration. She would do everything in her power to keep Achilles away from Panthea, even if it meant angering her husband in the process. She would do it.

Helen continued stroking her eldest daughter's hair, trying not to seem upset at Menelaus's actions. Little did she know Panthea had heard the entire conversation. She didn't know what to think of her father's or her mother's words for that matter. Menelaus had never seemed so angry at Helen, but then again Panthea was always sheltered from that. She knew Helen cared for her future, but the fact that her mother detested Achilles as much as she did was concerning. She never thought of that man as a womanizer. She hadn't been around him that much so of course she wouldn't know. Now her opinion of him changed. Perhaps Helen was right. She needed to stay away from Achilles. Maybe the dream she had was a warning from the gods and no one should ever take a message from the gods lightly.

Achilles and his Myrmidons had returned to the island of Aegina shortly after Menelaus and his retinue had departed for Sparta. He had watched as they left, noting how Panthea would not meet his eye as she sat in her carriage. She was determined to not look at him and he grinned at her stubborn nature. He knew that she knew he was there. He always practiced with his men in the early hours of the morning. He had often caught her watching him from her balcony when she thought he didn't notice.

Achilles would see her soon enough though. He had arranged a stay with Menelaus, wanting to make sure no other man had spoken for her first. He wanted her and no one else would have her. He had seen the way several men had looked at her, his men included, and wanted nothing more than to gut them out and watch as their blood spilled onto the ground. He often had to keep his temper in check, knowing he could not seem obvious. That would make him seem less like an invincible warrior and more like a love-struck teenager.

Walking barefoot along the shores of the beach, he watched as the waves washed up on the shore and then retreated into Poseidon's domain. He had loved coming here as a boy, his mother Thetis always making him seashell necklaces and watching him as he played in the shallow depths of the water. She was sea nymph, one of Zeus's favorite as his father, Peleus, had told him. She had been arranged to marry Zeus before his own father, but due to some complications he knew nothing about, Thetis had been bestowed to Peleus. The two had married and had been blessed with their only child, Achilles, but because of Thetis's attempts to make her son immortal, the pair had separated early in Achille's life. His mother appeared only when she deemed fit and his father rarely saw him as he sent Achilles to be trained by Chiron from early childhood to adulthood and the fact he had Aegina to manage as its leader.

Gathering his thoughts, Achilles continued his trek along the shore, his blue chiton blowing in the wind. War was all he had looked forward to in life and now he had something more than lust for blood, he held desire for a woman that he didn't just want to bed. He wanted to know her, be in her presence, feel her touch on his skin. He shivered at the thought before he could catch himself. He needed to get a grip on his emotions. He cursed Aphrodite and Eros internally, the goddess of love and her son certainly had something to do with this new development. Perhaps Eros had struck him with an arrow or the illustrious goddess had cast some sort of spell. Whatever the cause, the invincible Achilles now had a weakness: Princess Panthea of Sparta.

The princes of Troy were in one of the many palace gardens practicing their archery for the day while the women were lounging on chaises and were fanned by the Trojan servants and slave girls. Paris excelled at archery and was showing off for the ladies of the court while Hector remained modest and concentrated on the task at hand.

Andromache had finally been able to come out of their chambers and was happily bouncing Astyanax on her lap as she watched her husband practice. Hecuba and several of her daughters had surrounded the pair and were cooing at the baby. Astyanax was about six weeks old now and was just starting to smile at everything. His blue eyes were always filled with curiosity and the dark tuft of hair reminded Hector of the blackest nights.

Priam was overjoyed with the birth of his grandson and doted on him as any grandfather would. He would parade him around the hall, chuckling as he lifted the babe over his head to show all his courtiers the second-in-line to his throne, his son's future successor. The line of Priam was strong and appeared to be everlasting. The walls of Troy would stand forever and be remembered as the greatest city of the Aegean Sea.

Stringing another arrow, Hector tightened the string to its potential and fired another arrow, hitting just below where the heart of the enemy would be. The witnesses clapped at his display, proud of their crown prince. However, Paris also shot an arrow and overshadowed his brother's performance, the arrow hitting directly between the eyes of the target. The applause became louder and cheering could be heard. Hector just chuckled. Paris was the better archer of the two, but Hector was the all-around warrior, leader of the Trojan troops.

Placing his bow back on the rack where the others resided, Hector signaled his defeat to Paris who grinned cheekily at his elder brother. Walking over to Andromache, he lifted his son out of her lap and held him in his arms. Astyanax smiled up at his father and reached for his nose to grasp with his tiny fingers. Hector laughed at the gesture, placing a kiss on his son's forehead before returning him to his mother, whom he also kissed.

Settling down beside her, Hector stroked his wife's back while they continued to watch Paris practice. His father then emerged from the palace, everyone rising to their feet to bow to the king of Troy. Priam came to stand in front of Paris and patted him on the back before greeting Hecuba with a kiss on the lips. He finally came to stand in front of Hector and sat down beside his son. "I wished to speak with you, but it is such a fine day that perhaps we should sit outside and talk." Hector nodded at his father's words, gesturing for them to depart to a more quitter part of the garden. He gave Andromache a swift kiss before he led Priam to a secluded area.

The sun beat down on the pair as they walked through a deserted part of the garden, taking in the fresh air and enjoying their surroundings. "I shall have to send you on another siege. Our enemies have fathered at the northern borders again. At first it was just simple disputes, but now total chaos has happened. I need you to end this before we lose any more men."

"Of course, father," Hector said to his father. He was used to being sent to war, but now that he had a child, Hector wished he could put aside his princely duties and spend more time with his family.

"You shall have to leave in three days' time. Perhaps bringing Paris would be a good idea. The lad has yet to participate in war. It's time he shows his use to the people of Troy."

"Father, I doubt that is a good idea. Paris isn't one for war, you know that. If you want me to bring him, he will be put with the archers or watch as a spectator. You don't need to lose a son to battle." Hector looked as his father for any emotions that could appear on his face. Priam held none. He was always hard to read, his face impassive.

"Paris may not be one for war, but that is because he has never been in a war. It's time for him to at least experience something Hector. When I am gone, you two will defend Troy from our enemies on your own. I want my sons to be strong, to be able to hold themselves against our opponents. Paris will go, whether he fights or not."

Hector sighed at his father's words, but nodded in obedience. Paris would go whether he liked it or not. Their father commanded it and what he ordered would always be listened to.

Menelaus and his Spartan retinue arrived in their homeland almost a week after their journey began. Panthea was glad to be home. She enjoyed traveling, but not when she had to stay in a carriage the entire time. It was boring and there was very little to do except reading or sewing. Often, Panthea would just look up at the sky and day dream for hours on end. It was better than sleeping and she had many things to think about on the journey, including Achilles.

The man was a mystery to Panthea. He evaded her thoughts several times a day and she had to catch herself from asking her mother questions about him to not make her angry. She had heard stories of the man since she was a little girl. He was a ruthless warrior, famed for his glory on the battlefield. Nothing else was ever said of him unless her mother's ladies were gossiping about the eligible warriors or their latest escapades with other court women.

Helen gossiped as well, although she heard rumors rather than started them. She was never one to get too involved, although she liked to listen for Panthea's sake. She could never be too careful with watching what the men or other women of the court thought of her daughter.

As the so-called daughter of Zeus, Helen attracted attention not just because of her beauty, but her parentage as well. Tyndareus was her adoptive father and to ensure his daughter's wellbeing, her dowry had been the kingdom of Sparta. Many men had vied for Helen's hand, Theseus of Athens and Pirithous of the Lapiths being two of those men. They had even abducted Helen and kept her captive at Aphidna with Theseus's mother, Aethra, while the two men journeyed to the underworld to try to kidnap Persephone, bride of Hades. Both were kept prisoner by Hades, but Theseus was rescued by Heracles while Pirithous remained in the underworld to suffer his punishment: his bottom being glued to a rock for all eternity. When Theseus returned, his mother and Helen had been taken by the Dioscuri and returned to Sparta where Helen became betrothed to Menelaus. Helen would never wish the same fate on her daughter and to avoid the same thing happening to his daughter as it did to his wife, Menelaus enlisted extra guards just for Panthea's safety.

Exiting the carriage, Panthea was finally able to stretch her legs out after such a long time in the carriage. She hated being confined, but Menelaus and Helen had both insisted she should stay inside the carriage. Apollis had been tethered to the contraption and seeing his mistress, he let out a little whinny to get her attention. Walking over to her stallion. Panthea stroked his forehead softly and pressed a kiss to his puzzle.

"I'm sorry I haven't ridden you for so long. I promise we will go on some rides soon," Panthea spoke. Apollis nodded his head eagerly and rubbed against his mistress, making her giggle at his actions. A stable hand then appeared, one of the younger boys whom Panthea trusted to take care of her steed. She handed Apollis over to the boy and patted his head as he led the horse to the stable.

Coming up behind her, Helen grabbed her daughter's hand before pulling her inside the Spartan palace along with Hermione and her ladies. The large Greek columns held up the palace roof and white limestone covered the walls of the palace as well as fresco panel murals. Panthea's favorite mural was the myth of Apollo and Daphne in which Daphne, being chased by Apollo, asked her father, a river god, to save her. She was then transformed into a laurel tree which Apollo used to crown the victors at the Pythian Games, a lesser version of the Olympics. White marble decorated the floors of the palace, ice cold to the touch throughout the many seasons in Greece. Panthea beamed at her surroundings, finally glad to be home and away from her dreadful uncle, Agamemnon.

Sparta was always warmer than Mycenae, being a more southern region of Greece. As the winds blew from the seas through the palace, Panthea's hair flew up into the air, the white-blond color forming a halo around her head and making her appear angelic. She was at ease now. Being home always made her feel that way.

The women entered the queen's chambers, several servants carrying their belongings inside to be unpacked. Jewelry, silk coverings, chitons, peplos, himations, strophions, sandals, and more were gradually unpacked and placed back into their respective places. Helen's chambers were far larger in Sparta than they were in Mycenae, probably because she was back with her people and not a guest. The room was completely opened to the sea, columns spanning every few feet and the room leading out to a grand balcony that looked over a cliff where the waves crashed onto it. It was beautiful, breathtaking, and Panthea's favorite place to be in the entire palace. Her room was placed right next to her mother's, but was not as elaborate nor as big because she was a princess of Sparta and because she shared her mother's ladies.

Laying down on one of the chaises in her mother's rooms, Panthea watched the ladies unpack with a bored look on her face. Hermione sat down in her lap, Panthea playing with her younger sister's hair. It was like their mother's, a golden color, while her eyes were more like Menelaus's. She envied her younger sister in some ways. She was oblivious to everything and she wasn't pressured as much as herself. Panthea was heir to the throne and Hermione was just a princess of Sparta. She would never be free as Hermione was.

Panthea slowly fell asleep on the chaise, the journey tiring her body. Hermione did as well and the two sisters became intertwined with each other in their slumber. Helen smiled at her two girls, grabbing a silk cover and throwing it over them gently so to not wake them. She pressed light kisses to their foreheads before leaving her daughters to the god of sleep, Hypnos. They were in his care now.

A/N: Ok so I know a few of these words are confusing so I'm going to explain them to you all. A peplos was the traditional wear for women of Greece as a full-length garment, a chiton was a tunic used for both sexes, a himation was just a cloak or robe, and finally, a strophions was the bra of the time, basically just a strip of cloth that tied between the shoulder blades. Hope that helps clear up the confusion. Hope you guys liked the chapter!