Disclaimer: See Default Chapter ;)

The man stared at her for another thirty seconds or so, and then shook his head. He lowered his sword and strode over to the desk, rolling up the maps and plans.

"Yes. This is the eastern shoreline. Now, I want to know what exactly you are doing here. And I will know if you are lying. He fixed her with a warning look. Sara only sneered at him.

"Oh come on. You can't possibly think I'm going to fall for that like some kind of airhead. I think it's very clear that I am not afraid of you, so you can cut the attitude mister, or you'll get nothing out of me except a broken nose." She paused to wait for his reaction. When there was none, she plunged ahead, figuring that she had his full attention now. "So, my name is Sara, and I'm not from around here. I think it's safe to assume that you will have never heard of my country. Let alone know where it is. I had no intention of coming here, but for some crazy reason, a certain fr-comrade saw fit to dispatch me to this certain corner of the world. Now, as for the plans, even if I was supposed to read them, there is absolutely no way I would understand them.

"Why?" He asked smirking. "Can't read?"

"Not your language anyway." Sara replied. "Gosh, I can't believe I'm here. You know...me...you...stuck in a camp...together? Pretty crazy world isn't it?" She said smiling.

The blonde guy looked confused. "Are you flirting with me?"

Sara groaned, "Not anymore." The chair was getting rather warm...or was that just her bruised ego? Well, either way, she was uncomfortable. She got up and began to pace the length of the tent...all four meters by four meters of it. The man sighed and a resigned expression crossed his features.

"Alright. It's obvious that I'm not going to get anything out of you. There's a change of clothing in that trunk...the last woman who was here left in the middle of the night...leaving all her clothing behind.

"She must have been cold." Sara snarked. Then she sighed and looked at him apologetically. "Sorry. This is really stressful for me. All this running around...you'd think I'd have gone crazy already." The man smiled and Sara thought she heard him mutter; "It's a little late for that" Choosing to ignore, she looked over his shoulder at the garments in the chest. "Ya know, I think I'll stick with what I have on." The man looked at her with those piercing blue eyes and nodded. "I'm going to be away for the rest of the morning, I'll put a guard on the door, so no one can enter and disturb you." He made his way to the door. "Oh, and by the way, my name is Achilles."

Krista had just finished breakfast in the Trojan palace when a lady with curly black hair walked through the door. She scanned the room, and finally walked over to Krista.

"I'm looking for the visitor."

"Uh...that'd probably be me." Krista got up and extended her hand. "Hi, my name is Kris-"

The woman cut her off midsentence. "Krista. Yes, I know your name well; apparently I'm supposed to try to convince you to change your attire. Lord Priam feels that it would be safer for you to...blend in more. I personally have no issue with your choice of attire, but what the King wishes is always obeyed. I'm sure you can understand that."

Krista snorted. Yeah, I'm sure he does. I honestly don't think I've ever met a man as pompous and arrogant as him...well, no, his son is worse. That boy is positively spoiled."

Andromache, as she apparently was named smiled and fussed with her baby, who was whimpering for attention. "Ah, yes, Paris can be fairly pretentious, but although Priam is sometimes short and harsh with him, he loves his sons to death. His oldest son, my husband Hector has always been a source of great pride to Priam. But enough about that, would you PLEASE just change your clothing?"

Two hours and several verbal insults to the maids later, Krista was dressed in what she believed to be a bed sheet. Her hair was no better; the hairdresser hadn't really curled it right, so now it was all frizzy, and didn't lie flat. Krista took one look at it and rounded on Andromache.

"My hair looks like it got sucked into a jet engine. These people are completely inept. Give me that brush you moron." She snatched the brush away from the woman holding it and went to work on her own, despite the disapproving looks from said maintenance crew. She took it all down, and did it over.

"See? There. Much better." It was pinned up in all the right places, with little elflock falling on her shoulders. Andromache shooed the crew out and leaned against the door panel.

"Hey, I'm sorry okay. I just am not used to not having the correct materials to have my hair done. Usually it involves a curling iron and lots of hairspray."

Andromache was puzzled but let it slide. She righted her self and extended a hand to Krista.

"Alright, now we can go to the hall. I hear Priam is having a feast to celebrate the upcoming holiday. And I also hear that if you are finally dressed properly, he would be very honoured to have you as his guest of honour."

Krista smiled.

"Food, and attention? Now there are two things that I can understand."

Andromache and Krista entered the great hall, and a sudden hush fell over the patrons.

"Oh, much better my dear." Priam swept over to her and took her hand.

"Yeah, what a difference talent makes huh? So what are we having? You should know I'm not eating anything with eyes in it."

Priam stared at her for a minute, and then roared with laughter.

"Oh, a woman of intellect. That's not an everyday occurrence. No, my Hectors wife Andromache is very much like you my dear. I trust the two of you are getting along?" Andromache smiled and nodded. "She is quite the firebrand milord. She certainly knows what she wants."

Priam smiled and led her to a seat on his left. "You shall be my guest of honour; I want to know all about your country. Tell me more about this hockey business."

Well, after how many years of getting constantly drilled with Canadian history, Krista could recite it in her sleep. (And anytime else for that matter)

"Well...uh...it's a great country, see: it's between China and Portugal, and Britain. You know those places?"

"Not really."

"Oh...well it's over there, can't miss it. And we have trees...grass...water at two ends and ice at the other...um...lots of people from all different countries...oh yeah and you wanted to know about hockey? It is a sport people play with sticks and a little rubber thing called a puck. There are two teams, that try to score on each other by hitting the little rubber thing with their sticks into the other team's net? Savvy?"

"A little."

"Yeah, you'll get it. Takes a couple minutes."

"And who's this Tim Hortons?"

"No, not Tim Hortons-Tim Horton's see?"

"Uh...Crystal clear-really."

Krista rolled her eyes.

"No, it's a place you go to get food they have the best coffee in the world. And coffee is a drink, made from the beans of a certain tree. And we have positively the best standard of living, according to the government...but I don't trust politicians."

All of the members of Troy's senate glared at her. She recoiled defensively.

"What? You can't tell me that you are completely honest people. No politician goes a day without spreading some sort of lie...its how politics work." And she ignored the men's stricken and angry faces and went back to her meal. She had no idea what she was eating, but as it tasted like chicken it was alright with her. As she was finishing her food, she looked up at Priam, whom she was starting to like.

"So, just out of curiosity, what were we eating?"

Priam smile d and said;

"Fried Doormouse."

Meanwhile, Sara was lounging around in Achilles' tent listening to the gentle lull of the ocean and sound of...uh...military stuff wondering why she was here in the first place. It had been a pretty good morning overall, she'd had grapes and some other fruit from Achilles never ending supply and then lay down on a hammock they'd put up and waited for him to come back from whatever it was he did for the war. Not bad at all.

Then suddenly, out of blind curiosity, she sat up and decided to look through Achilles war plans. (There was something about the line: "Sara, do NOT look at my war stuff!" that made her really, really want to look at Achilles' war stuff.) Since he wasn't there, she figured it couldn't hurt to look at a few of them. Ruffling through, she finally pulled out a map. It clearly depicted Troy (in some Greek language) and the sea, and then Athens, with a little ship full of stick people soldiers, and stick person with a really big sword. (Yeah, must have been a slow day, eh Achilles) The next one was just a bunch of possible attack plans (Boring!) but the third one she picked out was interesting. It was a break-up letter! She could tell because of the little angry face drawn at the bottom. In her experiences, hearts meant love, skull and crossbones meant be afraid and little angry faces drawn at the bottom meant never ever speak to me again! Sara smirked to herself, she forgot her clothes, but took the time to draw a little angry face. Sounds like a real great person, Achilles. Just then, she heard the tent sway open, more than usual. Turning around, there was Achilles standing in the doorway looking really, really pissed off.

"What are you doing?" He asked slowly with his hand suspiciously close to his sword. (Really, the little stick person's sword hadn't been much of an exaggeration!)

"Um...I was just..." She quickly slid the letter under a pile of war stuff and stood up. "I was just...you know...cleaning up. The wind...see, the wind blew this stuff all over the floor...I just picked it up so it wouldn't get...messed up."

Achilles frowned at her for a second. "Well, okay. That makes sense...I guess. It's just there was a very personal letter to me in there. I'd HATE for anyone to see it."

"Can't help you there." Sara said, realizing she'd just gotten herself out of another sticky situation. "Anyways...how's...war stuff...goin'?"

"Not too bad. Except tomorrow I've got to take down this idiot named Hector."

"Oh, really, why is that?"

"He killed my cousin."

"Oh."
"Yeeeah. Pretty much."

"Well, best of luck. But you should really re-think the whole vengeance thing. It never really works out."

"We'll see about that." Achilles said vaguely. "Anyways, want some lunch? Crab cakes! We raided a diner today!"

"Oh score! How 'bout raiding a bakery tomorrow? We could have subs."

"Hmmmm...no, I was thinking more a souvlaki stand. Great souvlaki, you know at Apollo's."

"Alright fine. Chicken, though."

"Fine!" Achilles said as he left to go back to...war stuff.

"And maybe some Caesar salad too!"

"Fine!"