The sun rose the next day after a night that had brought only death and despair to the Trojans, but no one was glad or comforted by the dawning of the sun, not even the Greeks.

During the night, the Trojans had seen such horrors that they didn't wish to believe them. They wanted the night to have been a terrible dream, a dream that they could soon awake from, but as the sun rose they were forced to believe what had happened.

The Greeks, despite finally being victorious over the Trojans, dreaded the rise of the sun also. As it rose, the actions of the previous night dawned upon them, and many suddenly awoke from the parts of their minds that had allowed them to commit the acts they had.

The crying of children could still be heard throughout the city and on the plain, but their song had lessened during the course of the night because they had learned to silence themselves unless they wished to be killed. They knew the Greeks were looking for any justifiable excuse to kill them, but the children would not surrender their lives so easily.

The remaining Trojans that had been spared, mainly women, were silent also, but not because they feared death, but because they kept replaying the night's events in their minds, including the death of their king.

The Trojans had heard their king was dead, which killed any hope they had of being saved. The Greeks had shouted the news from the walls, their joyous cries echoing throughout the city which was like a stab in the heart to the Trojans. No one thought to disbelieve the Greeks as they now believed them capable of anything, especially after killing their king.

Now, fires still burned weakly within the city, but the Greeks had begun to stop them from growing because they wanted to begin searching through the destruction for valuables they could take home.

Blood trickled through the city like wine and it stained the paths it crept across. The blood was of innocent Trojans, innocent people who had died because of a war no one understood.

These sights of destruction are what met Andromache's eyes as she was led away from the walls and to the ships. She had made no sound after the death of her son, no tear had leaked from her eyes, yet she felt like she was drowning in despair, from within, as she replayed Astyanax's death in her mind.

She thought over every little detail, starting from the beginning of the previous day. All that swirled through her mind was what if, what if I had fled the city earlier with him, what if I had questioned Cassandra more, what if…

As Andromache was led out of the walls, she began to frantically search with her eyes for her son's body. She looked to where he had fallen but saw nothing from where she stood. She wanted to go and find him, to scoop his small body into her arms and to hold him forever, to keep him safe with her, but she couldn't. Her hands were bound together with rope and she would not be able to escape the men around her before they caught her.

Andromache was taken down to the ships, which rested on the sand with waves crashing against their sides. She saw that temporary tents for the kings had been set up near the ships, and shuddered to think that they would soon be taken down when the kings left Troy, because she knew she would be leaving with them.

Each step that Andromache took brought her closer to the tents and she felt her heart begin to quicken as she did not know what to expect, but as she drew near them, she suddenly saw Hecuba and Polyxena together beside a fire.

The Queen and Princess were shivering as they sat in their light night robes, which were stained with dirt at the hem. They held hands together, neither speaking as they each relived the horrors of the night within their minds.

As Andromache neared her relatives, she saw that their hands and ankles were bound with rope and that there were only two Greeks, who were in deep conversation, to guard them. She lifted her head to see more of the royal family, but saw no one else, only a few wives of noble men.

"Take her there," Odysseus said to one of his men, and he pointed to where Hecuba and Polyxena sat. He looked at Andromache for a moment, though she did not feel his eyes against her face because she looked across to her mother-in-law, and then he left his men and entered the nearest tent.

The man followed his king's words and grabbed Andromache by her arm, and took her over to the fire. He forced her to sit on a stone, although he did not bind her ankles together, and spoke briefly with the two Greeks guarding Hecuba and Polyxena before stepping away and entering the tent where Odysseus was.

Hecuba looked up in disbelief when she saw Andromache. She made to stand up, but the rope that bound her ankles together prevented her from doing so. She had expected Andromache and Astyanax to be dead along with Priam and Cassandra when they had not been brought to the ships, because she had heard the news of her husband's death in the night and assumed her daughter, Cassandra, to be dead also.

"Andromache," said Hecuba and she opened her mouth to continue speaking, but she found she couldn't even form words to say. Her mouth remained partly open as she felt a tear escape her eye and pass over her lips, which sent a shiver through her body.

Hecuba's eyes wandered over Andromache once more and she then looked across to a group of men who were entering Odysseus's tent. She closed her eyes briefly as she realised what had happened to her grandson, but then slowly turned her head to look upon the city she had been Queen of only a few hours again.

"Where is Astyanax?" asked Polyxena, a note of panic in her voice. She was no longer so ignorant of the ways of war to not realise what might have become of her nephew.

When Andromache said nothing in reply, Polyxena knew that her nephew was gone, that his life was lost. She bowed her head and felt tears rush into her eyes but she did not dare to release them because she was adamant to never allow any Greek to see her grief, she would not award them that victory.

Andromache could not speak; she didn't even wish to open her mouth because she was afraid of saying what had happened to Astyanax. She inwardly continued to deny what had happened to her child; she felt that if she accepted it, then she would be condoning it.

The laughter of the guards loading things onto the ships sent a shiver through Andromache, and Hecuba looked at her. Hecuba could feel the pain that Andromache felt as she too had lost children, her darling boys. She had watched her sons dying, their lives stolen by an unjustifiable war, and it had almost killed her to see it. Hecuba was more alike to Andromache now than ever and she reached out and placed her hand above Andromache's.

In the palace, surrounded by chaos and destruction, Helen sat alone in her chamber. She was plainly dressed; choosing to wear a dull robe Menelaus had bought her, and wore no fine jewels that usually decorated her neck or wrists.

She had chosen to leave all of the belongings she had received in Troy because she wished to forget her life here. She wanted to block it from her mind forever, however impossible that seemed, and never wished to face the shame of what she had started by coming to Troy.

Screams reverberated throughout the palace and Helen could hear the walls shake slightly, but she did not flee. She was scared to leave the safety of the chamber she and Paris had shared for years, the chamber where Corythus had been killed, because she could not bear to face the scenes of horror that lay outside.

The chamber Helen and Paris had moved to, after Corythus's death, seemed lifeless and cold compared to their former one, so she had come here after seeing Menelaus. She felt safer in this room as she could still feel Paris's presence within it.

This chamber seemed more like home to Helen than anything she had ever known, but only because she had shared it with Paris. The memories they had created were gathered in this chamber and Helen smiled as she looked at the bed they had made love in, and she grinned even more when she looked out to the balcony where Paris had professed his undying love for her. Those times seemed so far in the past that Helen struggled to remember what had gone wrong in her relationship with Paris.

Her body shivered, however, when her eyes looked upon the blood on the floor where Corythus had been killed, and she realised that she and Paris had begun to drift even more apart after that. She could still remember that night as if it were yesterday, she could remember every detail, and she now knew that there would be more blood stains throughout the city because of the Greeks.

The door to the chamber opened slowly and Helen jumped with fright in the chair she sat in. She tightened her grip on a small dagger she held beside her and looked towards the door.

A sigh of relief escaped Helen's mouth when she saw Menelaus enter the room. Her eyes wandered over his face for a moment and she felt like a young girl again, like the young girl she had been when Menelaus had come to marry her in Sparta.

Menelaus stepped into the light that beamed through the room, from the balcony. As he did so, Helen suddenly saw blood splattered across his Spartan breast plate and she shivered slightly.

He slowly walked towards Helen when she rose from her chair, but then paused and left a few feet between them. He stared at Helen for a few moments, unaware of how to act or even what to say.

Until the previous night, Menelaus had been parted from Helen for years. He had been over joyous with the thought of seeing her again, of having her by his side once more, but he now realised that things would never be the same.

The life they had once shared would never be returned, what had happened would always linger at the back of everything they did. Not only that, but Menelaus realised that he would have to learn to trust Helen once more, if that were possible. He knew that he loved her; he could not love her more if he tried, yet he also knew that it would take time for him to ever trust her like he once had.

As Helen looked at Menelaus, she felt her insides tighten with guilt. She now looked upon the man who had loved her through everything and she felt more guilt seep into the pit of her stomach because she did not love him, and she knew that she never could.

Guilt began to swim through Helen's veins as she continued to look at Menelaus because she knew that thousands of lives had been taken for nothing. She would now be with Menelaus once again, even though she had left him for another man.

Helen slowly began to step closer to Menelaus and she wrapped her arms around him. She rested her head on his chest, feeling how odd it was to be so close to a man that was not Paris.

She knew that Menelaus had fought for her almost everyday for years, that he loved her more than anyone had ever loved her, and that, even after all she had done, he did not hurt or dishonour her. It was then that Helen decided to remain by him and, even though she knew it was not possible, she would try to love him.

"Take me home," she finally whispered in his ear, "to Sparta."

A deathly silence filled the palace halls as Neoptolemus walked through them, alone. He did not know where he was or where he was going, he only knew that he could not rest while the thought of his father's murder swirled through his mind.

He had become even more adamant to avenge his father's death after he had taken the lives of innocent Trojans because the desire for revenge occupied his mind entirely and he was not forced to think of the things he had done on the previous night.

Deep inside him, Neoptolemus knew he was not like his father and that he was not supposed to be a cold-blooded killer. He could imagine his mother sitting in her chamber at home, he could even picture her agonizing expression as she worried for him, and he realised that his place was with her. However, Neoptolemus also knew that he could not leave Troy until he had finished what he had started.

As Neoptolemus continued to walk through the halls, he suddenly heard laughter coming from a room he had just passed. He withdrew his unclean sword from its sheath and gripped it tightly within his hand, poised for attack if need be.

However, as Neoptolemus cautiously entered the room he had heard the laughter from; he was stunned to find Agamemnon there, surrounded by various Greek kings. He had not known what to expect, yet he had certainly not expected to see Agamemnon sitting in a throne that had once belonged to King Priam.

Neoptolemus quickly looked at his surroundings and saw, to his astonishment, that he was in a great hall and was even more surprised to see a woman filling Agamemnon's goblet with more wine.

"Neoptolemus!" cried one of the kings, and Neoptolemus turned to face the man and saw that the king was being fanned by two women, undoubtedly Trojan.

Agamemnon's eyes looked across to Neoptolemus as he drank from his wine. He wore no expression across his face, yet his eyes were filled with satisfaction from winning the war.

"Your father would have been proud of you, as proud as I am," Agamemnon said slowly, a note of sarcasm in his voice that was not recognizable to anyone but Neoptolemus. "I am entirely grateful to you for all that you have done while at Troy, and you will be awarded and honoured greatly."

A forced smile suddenly appeared on Neoptolemus's face because he knew that Agamemnon was not proud of him. He knew that Agamemnon hated him for killing Priam because he knew that Agamemnon had wanted to kill Priam himself.

Neoptolemus's smile widened, however, as he looked at Agamemnon because he enjoyed watching the hatred for him grow in the king's eyes. He had once been fooled by Agamemnon's fake compliments and words, yet he had suddenly awoken to how Agamemnon acted.

Agamemnon snapped his fingers and one of his guards immediately came to him. He turned his head slightly to face his guard, yet kept his eyes on Neoptolemus.

"Take Neoptolemus down to the ships," he ordered, "and allow him to choose from any of the royal women there."

The guard nodded in reply, just as the doors to the hall opened again.

Surrounded by four of Agamemnon's men, Cassandra entered the hall. Her face was as pale as snow and her dark hair fell down her back in curls. A thin, see-through peplos covered her skin and, even though she looked confident, you could see that she was shaking beneath it.

A murmur passed between the kings, excluding Agamemnon, as they looked upon Princess Cassandra with wonder. They had heard of her natural beauty, but they had also heard that she was a seer that was disbelieved and thought mad by the Trojan people, including her family.

Agamemnon lifted his eyes off Neoptolemus and focused them on Cassandra. A true smile widened across his thin lips as he looked at her, and as his eyes wandered across her body, his smile only widened.

For a moment silence filled the air as each man's eyes were turned towards Cassandra, and her eyes were turned towards Agamemnon. But the silence was soon broken when Agamemnon rose from the throne he had claimed and he walked towards Cassandra, which caused more whispering to begin between the other kings.

"What a beautiful creature you are," said Agamemnon, his voice low, as he circled Cassandra. He then stopped and grasped her chin in his hand and examined her face. "One could ignore the tales of your madness when they looked at your beauty."

A shiver of disgust rippled down Cassandra's spine as she was forced to stare into the dark pits that were Agamemnon's eyes. She looked at him with more disgust than she could ever remember feeling, and wished that she had not been found by him in the temple of Athena, and that instead she had been granted death.

Agamemnon released his grip on Cassandra, yet his eyes lingered on her for a moment before he snapped his fingers once more. He turned to see his guard beside him, waiting for instruction.

"Take Neoptolemus down to the ships, now," said Agamemnon and he looked at the son of Achilles as he spoke. "He may choose which ever woman he wishes as a token of my gratitude."

The guard nodded once again and bowed in front of Agamemnon before walking over to Neoptolemus and asking him to follow him.

Neoptolemus shook his head slowly and looked at Agamemnon in disbelief. "I don't want some woman as a token of your gratitude! I didn't kill Priam for you; I did not fight for you!"

"Forgive me," said Agamemnon and he could not help but reveal a slight smile, "I should have realised that you killed only for your father, how foolish I was."

Neoptolemus gritted his teeth in anger but said nothing; instead he turned and began to follow Agamemnon's guard when a voice made him grind to a halt.

"Stop!" shouted Cassandra and she turned to look at Neoptolemus. Her eyes were filled with tears because she had only realised who he was and knew what he was going to do. She walked towards him but Agamemnon grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

"Don't you dare speak unless I allow you to!" snarled Agamemnon and he glared into Cassandra's eyes with fury spreading across his face. "You are no longer a Princess of Troy, you are my slave!"

Neoptolemus looked at Cassandra with a puzzled expression across his face. He was curious as to why she had wished to stop him, but as he looked at her all he saw was Priam staring back at him and it only reminded him of what he had to do.

Without saying another word, Neoptolemus left the hall and just as the doors had closed behind him, Agamemnon called for another guard.

"Take her to one of the chambers," Agamemnon ordered and his eyes glanced towards Cassandra for a moment, "and guard it. I shall be along shortly."

The guard said nothing but only bowed in front of his king and then grabbed Cassandra by her arm and took her to the nearest chamber. He forced her into it and then left her alone and guarded the chamber from outside.

As soon as Cassandra was alone she burst into a fit of tears and sank down to the floor. She tried to silence her cries by covering her mouth with her hand, but she could no longer contain the pain that wished to flood from her.

Never before had Cassandra hated the gods as much as she did now, not even when she was raped. She had once loved, honoured and respected the mighty gods, but now she felt nothing but hate towards them.

Even after Hector had been killed, Cassandra had continued to love them because she had believed it was the Greeks who had caused her family such pain. She had continued to seek comfort from them as she thought they were the only ones who understood them, and now she felt betrayed because she realised that it was the gods who led the Greeks to act the way they had.

The tears that washed over Cassandra's face soon ceased as she gained control of her pain. She locked away her grief and was determined to hide from it forever now because she needed to be strong.

After wiping her bloodshot eyes, Cassandra stood up from the floor and sat in the nearest chair. She looked around the room and realised she was in one of the guest chambers and then she looked across to the bed.

Her heart stopped for a moment when she noticed the bed sitting boldly at the opposite side of the room. She knew that she would soon be forced to lie upon it when Agamemnon came to seek his pleasure from her, and she closed her eyes briefly before opening them again and looking away from it.

A/N: After raping Cassandra, it was said that Ajax was going to be punished for it but the Greek kings did not decide upon one. When sailing home, however, Ajax drowned as a result of insulting the gods. I just wanted to mention that as I don't think I'll add it in the story. Thank you for all of the reviews :)

Queen Arwen – Isn't angst great, I don't think there is enough of it in the myth ;) I'm glad you like how I'm following the myth, thank you. Thank you for the review too :)

Kal's Gal – I'm glad you continue to like this, despite the tragedies in it :) Thank you for the review!

Caz-jket – Thank you for the review! I'm glad you find the rating ok, and thanks for letting me know. I'm glad you liked the last chapter too, thank you :)

Priestess of the Myrmidon – I'm glad you liked the last chapter and that you're enjoying my fast updates, thank you :) I knew you would like Helen's fate, lol! Thank you for the review!

Meitsi – Andromache's child, Astyanax, has already been killed. He was killed in chapter 63. I'm glad you want to continue reading this, thank you and thank you for the review :)

Lily – That's great that you keep learning new things from reading this :) There is a lot of drama in this at the moment and there will be even more to come. Thank you for the review!