Hellfire

Summary: Not every horse was tamed easily by the Tamer of Horses. Surely Hector, too, had a lesson somewhere along the way. The gods helped him, in the form of a child and a diabolical horse.

A/N: Inspiration and ideas for a lot of this come from my dear friend Preppygirl, and so, of course, this is dedicated to her. Pretty much the entire ending was her idea. Hope everything works out, PG. Everyone should go read her fics.

This takes place about a year after Hector and Andromache are married, before Astyanax is born. IMPORTANT: The girl is basically a sign from the gods, since many myths say the gods forsook Troy. The message (although hard to understand, I know) is that the gods didn't completely forsake Troy. They helped in many ways, large and small, for example, helping Hector train a perfect warhorse in this fic. Hope you get it. On with the story.

It wasn't the first time Hector had to pit himself against that particular horse. He watched the stallion grimly. He was huge, with a coat of shiny black and dark, wild eyes. He had earned his name, Hellfire, on several occasions before.

Hellfire, who had up until a minute before been running around the arena, was standing still. He looked out over the plains of Troy contentedly for a moment, then leveled his head at Hector. He stared the Trojan down, pawing the dust, not even bothering to feign innocence. Hector sighed, looking to his wife, who just shrugged.

"Go prove yourself, O Tamer of Horses," Andromache taunted. He glared at her.

"You'll regret this. Hellfire will kick me in the groin, and then you'll be sorry," he growled.

"Then I guess Paris will have to entertain me," Andromache teased. Hector's eyes widened. "I jest, love," she added hastily. "You know I can't stand your brother."

Hector let his breath out, relieved. He looked back to the diabolical horse. "Well, wish me luck," he said. He stood there for a moment, steeling himself until Andromache coughed pointedly. "All right, I'm going," he grumbled good-naturedly, hopping over the fence with ease.

He approached Hellfire slowly, one cautious step at a time. "Easy, boy," he said soothingly, although it wasn't necessary. Hellfire stood perfectly still, with more than a hint of evil in his eyes.

I'm not going to back down, Hector thought determinedly. He kept up a steady stream of calm words. "That's it, boy. Just stand still. You're doing fine." The horse eyed him amusedly. "You're fine," Hector repeated. He could almost feel Hellfire's tension building. He took another step, his foot falling softly onto the dirt. "Good boy," Hector whispered. He was an arm's length away from the horse. Slowly he raised his arm—

-and Hellfire reared up, whinnying in glee. With his front hoof he struck Hector's ribcage with just enough force to knock him down. Hector crashed to the ground as the breath was knocked from his chest. Hellfire bolted to the fence and leapt over it effortlessly, taking off toward the hills surrounding Troy.

Hector gasped, trying to catch his breath. As he shook his head to loose the dirt from his ears, the first thing he heard was peals of laughter. Andromache was hurrying toward him, obviously trying very hard not to laugh. She was failing miserably.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, kneeling beside him and grinning.

"Perhaps I am, and yet you're laughing," he shot back. Andromache bit her lip to stifle her giggles.

"I'm sorry. It's just Hellfire looked so happy knocking you down," she said. "But are you hurt?"

"He hit me here," Hector said, waving at his ribs. "It may leave a bruise, but it's nothing serious. We need to catch that horse." He quickly got to his feet, wincing a little as he brushed the dust from his clothes. "Which way did he go?"

Andromache pointed out over the plain to the hills, where Hellfire was racing, not too far away. Hector ducked under the fence and sprinted after him, trying to ignore the pain the movements brought. He bruised me, he thought, annoyed. Behind him Andromache followed, hoisting up her skirts a bit as she ran across the plain.

Hellfire was much faster than either of them. He galloped up a small hill, then finally paused and waited for his captors to catch up. He whinnied loudly as Hector approached the bottom of the hill.

"Good trick, Hellfire," Hector admitted grudgingly. Andromache stopped at his side and looked up at the horse.

"What are you going to do with him?" she asked. "He's completely wild, Hector. You'll never train him to be a warhorse."

Hector was silent, unwilling (and perhaps too stubborn) to admit defeat. He didn't have time to think of a response. A girl had appeared on the hill.

She was young, maybe ten years old or less. Her long brown hair was worn loose as was customary for girls in Troy. She looked plain enough, yet Hector was a bit uneasy. She seemed almost to glide, as if her weight was far less than normal. And in the sunlight, she nearly glowed.

A nymph, perhaps, Hector decided. He took a few steps toward the base of the hill, but stopped as the girl walked to Hellfire. Hector tensed up, ready to get her out of harm's way.

But Hellfire had no problem with her. He let her stroke his neck and even nuzzled her shoulder. Hector slowly walked up the hill with Andromache beside him, amazed.

"How did you do that? This horse hates to be approached," Hector said when he was near. The girl looked up without smiling. She was silent for a long moment, her small hands still caressing Hellfire's neck. Then she looked from Andromache to Hector.

"Horses are like women. They need respect," she said in a voice that sounded too wise for a child.

Andromache smacked Hector's arm lightly. "Pay attention," she hissed.

"If you want a good warhorse, let him accept you before you even try to train him," the girl continued. "Be patient, my lord."

Hector stared at her, dumbfounded. I am supposed to take advice from a child? Yet he could see the sense in her words. Most of the time he simply trained the horses, and while they were trained well, what he really wanted was a perfect horse.

"If he knows you, he will be loyal to you," the girl said softly. "And that, my lord, will soon be more valuable to you than gold. He will be your aid in a battle." The girl stopped stroking Hellfire. "I hope I have helped you," she said softly.

"You have," Hector assured her. Who is this girl? Was she sent to me by some god? Surely she doesn't think she can make me believe that Hellfire will be my perfect warhorse.

But any doubts he had about that vanished when Hellfire stepped boldly toward him. Hector cautiously raised his hand and stroked him on the nose. The stallion didn't flinch. "Thank you," Hector whispered, but the girl was gone.

Hector turned to Andromache, who was bewildered. "I don't think I understood anything past 'treat your woman with respect,'" she confessed. "Will he follow us back now?"

"Yes," Hector said confidently. And sure enough, Hellfire followed obediently all the way back to the arena.

In the years to follow, stable-hands would marvel at Hector's wonderful warhorse. Hellfire proved his worth many times. No one could have guessed such perfection was thanks to a girl sent by the gods.

And often during the long battles of the Trojan War, Hector was glad that the gods had not forsaken him after all.

I know, kind of a weird ending, but I hope you enjoyed the fic. Please review and let me know what you thought. Thank you for reading!