Glad you all liked the last chapter. I can only take credit for part of it, I have the complete Troy script and so I'm going through and picking out most of the scenes. So for the threat you have to thank David Benioff. When the DVD comes out some of these scenes might be in the deleted section, but we'll see. So yah, I can't take all the credit.

School has slowed down, so I think I'll be able to update more. I'm hoping to get out a chapter at least once a week, if not more. Thanks to all of you who have been so patient w/ me, this story is dedicated to you guys!

Hector fastened his cape and gazed into the looking glass, checking his appearance one last time. He heard Paris' footsteps and watched, amused, as his brother barged into his room without even knocking.

"Happy to be of service, Paris," he said mockingly.

"Your cape is crooked," Paris chided, coming over to adjust it. "A fine example of a Trojan prince you make."

"Funny, I could say the same of you," Hector said teasingly, though his eyes were serious as he looked into his brother's.

"Haven't I behaved with the utmost decorum?" Paris said innocently.

"Sometimes I wonder," Hector sighed, leading his brother out into the hall where a servant was waiting to escort them. "Just make sure you continue to act so, we're not out of Sparta yet."

"Princes of Troy," Menelaus began, rising out of his seat. "On our last night together, Queen Helen and I salute you."

Hector smiled and nodded, acknowledging the compliment.

"We've had our conflicts before, it's true. We've fought many battles, Sparta and Troy, and fought well." The warriors at the table let out a hearty cheer in remembrance of their "glory" days. Menelaus waited for the cheering to die down, then continued. "But I've always respected your father. Priam is a good man, and a good king. I respected him as my adversary, I respect him now as my ally."

The entire assembly let out a cheer, the Trojan men included.

"Hector, Paris, young princes, come, stand. Drink with me."

Hector rose out of his chair, simultaneously reaching for his glass and nudging his brother, who he knew wasn't paying attention. Paris never liked speeches. But Paris was just a second late in standing, and no one noticed.

"Let us drink to peace," Menelaus said, raising his glass.

"Peace," Hector agreed. "Between Troy and Sparta."

The treaty was now official, having been taken in front of an assembly before the gods. Everyone drank deeply and Menelaus grinned. "May the gods keep the wolves in the hills and the women in our beds!"

The men drunkenly let out a yell of agreement and Hector glanced at Helen, who did not even listen to her husband's words. Poor woman, he thought, studying her. The gods have not granted you an easy life.

The servants started playing music and Helen stood up, not even attracting the notice of her husband. Hector watched her go, wondering at her sudden exit. His attention was diverted by a group of drunken warriors but as he glanced back he watched Paris slip silently from the room in the same direction that Helen had gone.

Paris, he thought, growing angry. Annoyance showed on his face but he quickly masked it, hoping no one had seen. Fortunately, the attention of the men had focused on the entrance of the dancing girls.

Menelaus came over and captured Hector in a bear hug, after which both of them spilled some of their wine on the floor in honor of the gods. Menelaus took hold of Hector's upper arm.

"A strong arm. Thank the gods we've made peace – I've seen too many of my men struck down with this arm."

Hector smiled, "Never again, I hope." Paris, if you ruin this I swear you'll not live to see another day.

"Only one man works a sword better than you. The son of Peleus the Argonaut," Menelaus continued.

"Achilles," Hector nodded. That named had been whispered in awe, even as far away as Troy.

Menelaus shook his head. "That madman would throw a spear at Zeus himself if the god insulted him." Menelaus gestured over to where a handmaiden, Polydora, stood staring at them openly. "You see that one over there? I picked her just for you, she's a little lioness."

"Thank you," Hector said politely but firmly. "My wife waits for me in Troy."

"My wife waits for me right upstairs," Menelaus said, lowering his voice and grinning. "Wives are for breeding, you understand? For making little princes. Come, enjoy yourself tonight."

Hector smiled and raised his cup. "You make excellent wine in Sparta."

Menelaus laughed drunkenly and raised his cup, then shouted out for a servant to bring him another.

Hector paced the room restlessly as he glanced up at the staircase. Paris' absence would be noticed if he stayed gone any longer. Hector glanced over at Menelaus, who had the handmaiden sitting on his lap. He was openly kissing her, oblivious to the happenings around him. And Hector hoped it would stay that way.

Hector felt himself relaxing as the boat slipped further away from Sparta's shores. The sun was shining but its heat was kept at bay by the cooling breeze that sped them on their way. All the tension of the past week was vanishing as he pictured their destination and his family who awaited him there.

He smiled and turned back to his carving, which was just beginning to take shape as a lion. It was a return gift for his son. For his wife he'd purchased some of the Spartan olive oil that was so highly valued. Supposedly one used it as an ointment for the hair, though he'd never tried it. But undoubtedly she would appreciate it, she was a woman after all.

He saw Paris coming over and smiled at his brother, then turned back to his carving. Paris came up and stood beside him, then spoke.

"A beautiful morning. Poseidon has blessed our voyage."

Hector glanced up at the sky. "Sometimes the gods bless you in the morning and curse you in the afternoon."

He went back to his work and there was a long pause as Paris worked up the nerve to speak.

"Do you love me, brother?"

Hector laughed and raised his eyes to look at the young man who stood before him. Memories associated with that phrase came back all at once, and Hector smiled and shook his head. "The last time you spoke to me like that you were ten years old and you'd just stolen Father's horse. What have you done now?"

To his surprise Paris did not smile at the memory, but only looked more worried. "I must show you something."

Now Hector had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he followed his brother over the ladder and climbed down it. He turned and saw a figure step out of the shadows, cloaked in scarlet. The figure raised the hood off her head and Hector's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the wife of Menelaus. Her eyes were apprehensive as though she were waiting for him to strike her. But he did not even speak to her, instead turning to Paris.

"If you weren't my brother I would kill you where you stand," he said, his voice dangerously low. Paris did not reply as Hector turned around and retraced his steps, but quickly followed him.

Hector stormed passed the captain of the ship. "Turn us around, back to Sparta!" he shouted without breaking his stride. He heard Paris hurrying after him.

"Wait, wait," his brother said helplessly, knowing the captain wouldn't obey a counter-order from him.

"You fool," Hector muttered furiously.

"Listen to me-" Paris began.

Hector spun around and shoved his brother hard. Paris was forced to step back and inwardly quaked at his brother's evident physical strength.

"Do you know what you've done?!" Hector shouted, his fury now unleashed. "Do you know how many years our father's worked for peace?!"

"I love her," Paris protested, his voice sounding weak even to his own ears.

"This is all a game to you, isn't it?" Hector hissed, disgust written all over his face. "You roam from town to town bedding merchants' wives and temple maids and you think you know something about love. What about your father's love?! You spat on him when you brought her on this ship! What about the love for your country? You'd let Troy burn for this woman?!"

Hector turned back out towards the seas and gripped the railing hard. "I won't let you start a war for her."

"May I speak?" Paris said, finally managing to get a word in. Hector nodded tensely and Paris continued. "What you say is true. I've wronged you. I've wronged our father. If you want to bring Helen back to Sparta so be it. But I go with her."

Hector looked at Paris as if he'd lost his mind. "To Sparta? They'll kill you."

"Then I'll die fighting," Paris said, raising his chin.

"Oh and that sounds heroic to you, doesn't it?" Hector said mockingly. "To die fighting. Tell me, little brother, have you ever killed a man?"

Paris lowered his gaze. "No," he answered quietly.

"Ever seen a man die in combat?"

"No," he repeated.

"I've killed men," Hector hissed, anger written clearly on his face. "I've heard them dying and I've watched them dying and there's nothing glorious about it. Nothing poetic. You say you want to die for love, but you know nothing about dying and you know nothing about love!"

"All the same, I go with her," Paris said quietly. "I won't ask you to fight my war."

Hector shook his head. "You already have." There was a tense pause then Hector stormed off. "To Troy!" he ordered, hating his own weakness.

He went to the front of the ship and watched as the boat was brought back to face the endless sea. He heard Paris go back below deck but did not turn around, not wishing to look at the faces of the men. Few could understand the intense desire he had to both beat his brother senseless and shelter him from the cruelty of the world. He longed for his wife by his side, to listen and understand his dilemma. She always did, without fail. I suppose that's why I love her, Hector thought ruefully. Well, Andromache, much as you'll dislike it, I'm bringing you a sister.

And what a cursed sister it would be.