A/N: I am a terrible person who never reviews. And this isn't the worst of it. I haven't update Haunted By Bliss in two weeks. But I will! Here's an…interesting update, and if you're waiting for HBB, never fear, I'll block out Billy Currington, my Troy DVD, and all other distractions and get a new chapter up soon.

And this one's dedicated to Lady Hades- here's the crush you wanted, although it nearly killed me to write it. I expect a nice review, missy.

Chapter Four: A Stolen Heart and Ruined Trust

Some people say that as siblings grow older, they argue less and accept each other more readily. To be honest, even after Paris' incident with Father's horse, I expected this. I had this quixotic notion that Paris and I would just get along better as we left childhood behind. Things only became more difficult. As you grow older, more issues become important- your duty to your country, the gods, women.

Maybe it was my fault that Paris loved women so much. He always wanted to do what I did, and when I first showed interest in a maiden, so did he. Unfortunately, it was the same woman.

My mother always feared that I would inherit my father's womanizing habits. She had been forced to share him with many others, and I think it hurt her to know she wasn't the only one he loved. She truly cared about my father, and I know sometimes she felt as if he valued her so little. I'm sure it pleased her that I started noticing maidens so late. I was sixteen when I first showed interest in a particular girl. Of course, I had admired members of the fairer sex plenty of times- I don't mean to sound innocent of every young man's desires. But from the time I was twelve I had spent most of my time at my father's side, in council, in the army, anywhere I could be molded into a prince. It worked too well.

But one night, shortly after I turned sixteen, Father gave me leave from my palace duties, allowing me an evening in Troy's more lively areas. It was the night of a small festival in honor of Poseidon, and everyone was invited to join in the festivities, though married couples and older people rarely did. Aeneas had an eye for mischief. He dragged me down to the main square, where there was dancing, laughing, and wine. Paris begged us to let him come, and I saw no reason not to take him. After all, even my worrisome mother often bragged that I could "fend off any enemy, be he man or beast or son of a god!" I could not have known the danger that night. It was nothing I knew how to fight, and I couldn't stop its effects.

Our actions that night are embarrassing to speak of, even now, so many years later. I was as foolish as most boys my age were. As soon as we arrived at the square, Aeneas charmed a serving maiden, getting us three huge goblets of unwatered, strong wine. "For the gods!" he announced, his sapphire eyes sparkling. He hit his goblet hard against mine, spilling some of the dark liquid onto the street. Even before we gulped down the fiery drink, all three of us were drunk on excitement, and possessed by a dangerous boldness.

It was then that I saw her. She was twirling gaily along with the other maidens who danced in the square. They were all singing verses honoring Poseidon, all slightly off key, but I remember her singing being perfect. Every time she darted past me she would smile, just a hint of coyness playing on her face. She was pretty, too. She couldn't compete with my Andromache, of course, but she was pleasing to look at. She had shiny brown hair and that captivating smile, and she seemed to glow in the moonlight.

Then again, I think she was pretty. I was on my second or third glass of wine by then.

"Look at her," I said to Aeneas. He had two maidens fawning over him already. It never was hard for him to attract women, not with that charm, or those godlike looks. He glanced at the direction of my tilted head and nodded thoughtfully.

"Now she's a beauty," he said, with a light slur on his words. The girls giggled and tugged at his arms. "Go talk to her, Hector. Come on. Go."

I shook my head back and forth slowly. "Nah. She looks like she's enjoying herself. Dancing."

"She could be enjoying herself with you," he pointed out brazenly. He threw his head back to drink, and I followed suit.

"She's real pretty," Paris mumbled at my side. He must have had more to drink than both Aeneas and I. His eyes were shining and moved around distractedly. "Go…go talk."

"I am," I replied. Holding the goblet tightly in my fist, I swallowed the rest of its contents and handed it to Aeneas with a slap on the arm, knowing it would be full again when I returned.

When I approached the maiden, she spun in one last, dizzying twirl and stepped away from the other dancers. "Hello," she said, with that same flirtatious smile.

"'Lo," I repeated. "You dance really well, uh…"

She said her name then, but I honestly can't remember it. Something like Hippolyta or maybe Carope. I believe I stumbled through a few minutes of lame conversation (I seem to remember it being about fishing) before she stopped me.

"I'm tired from that dancing," she informed me.

"Would you like to sit down somewhere?" I asked, a bit concerned. She looked around doubtfully. There was nowhere to sit. The square was packed with people, some still dancing, some singing along drunkenly in the verses to Poseidon.

"I know a place," she suggested suddenly. "It's an abandoned house, just down the road. No one will bother us there." I shouldn't have been surprised at her boldness, but slowly I understood and started wearing a stupid grin.

"Just let me tell my brother- said I'd watch him," I explained, too loudly. It took a few minutes to find my way through the maze of people back to where I'd left Aeneas, and when I arrived, Paris was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm going to spend the night with that beautiful maiden," I said smugly.

"No, you're not," he broke in before I could speak again. I grew unnecessarily angry. Too much wine can have that effect.

"Oh, stop it. You've got two girls already. Don't be jealous," I demanded.

"Don't flatter yourself, Hector," he spat back. "Look behind you. Look at her."

I glared at him and did as he instructed, but I wasn't prepared for what I saw. Paris was vanishing into the night with the maiden I had been talking to.

I whipped back around to face Aeneas. "Did my brother- my twelve year old brother- did he just steal my maiden?"

"I think so," Aeneas agreed. He shook the two women off himself and strode to me. "What are you going to do?" he asked, fury rough in his voice.

"What can I do?" I asked, more than a little upset. It wasn't the fact that Paris stole the maiden I had been interested in that bothered me, so much as that he would take anything I liked. Until then, I had just assumed that neither of us would so anything to hurt the other.

And now that trust was ruined. I walked back to the palace in a stupor, both from Paris' actions and the wine. I don't remember falling asleep, but I woke up late the next morning in my own bed, with what felt like a hundred hammers in my head, and my stomach churning like a stormy sea. I lay in bed with my eyes tightly shut until the door burst open some time later.

"Go to Tartarus," I growled, squeezing my eyes more tightly together. I could feel the weight of Paris' hand on the edge of my bed as he sat down on the floor next to my shoulders.

"Hector. Come on. I need to talk to you."

I opened one eye. "No. If talking leads to going to abandoned houses with the woman your brother had his eye on, I'm never talking again."

Paris' face was pale. He probably felt as ill as I did, but I forced myself not to care. I would have rolled over so my back was toward him, but I was afraid any movement would send whatever I had eaten last night flying.

"I'm so sorry, brother. I don't know what I was thinking. That wine was so strong, and she was so beautiful…"

"Don't blame it on the wine," I hissed, though I was quickly attributing some of my boldness to the same drink. "You're too young, anyway. And there were a hundred maidens at the festival, and you pursued the one I liked."

Maybe I was being foolish, or overreacting. I didn't care about the girl that much. But to have her choose my younger brother over me was as humiliating as it was angering.

"I'm sorry. I never should have set my eyes on her. I wasn't thinking," Paris said desperately. "I know what I did was wrong, Hector. I do."

"It doesn't matter," I said, pressing one hand to my temple as if that would stop the throbbing. "You still did it."

"And I cannot take it back, but I wish I could. I'd do anything for you to forgive me." He was handling it all very maturely, like he was trying to win my approval. He's trying to grow up, I realized grimly. Gods, I may have to forgive him. He was drunk, after all.

"How do I know you won't steal the next woman I lay my eyes on?" I asked suspiciously.

"Never. I'll never step within a hundred feet of any woman you fancy. I promise," he said solemnly.

"I would have done something I'd regret, anyway," I admitted. I tensed up and flopped over onto my back, making my stomach swirl in protest. "Now get out of here. Ands I'll hold you to that oath."

And after swearing again, he was gone. But despite my words and forgiveness, I didn't believe him. He had shown a tendency toward my father's love of women, and I had no faith in his ability to resist them. Over the next few years, he chased after so many maidens that I lost count. And I never liked any enough to care if he pursued one I was interested in.

Then there was one woman I would have died for. And if I had worried over Paris' womanizing before, it was nothing compared to how distressed I was when this maiden came. She brought a whole new array of problems with her, and even I couldn't have imagined some of the solutions.

And there will be more soon. I promise.