Author/Banshee Queen: "After receiving a review around a month ago for 'Forbidden Kiss' from an authoress by the name of 'Shining Friendship', the fanfiction officials came knocking on my door and demanded a new fanfic…okay okay so it wasn't that bad, but I felt the need to write another Troy fanfic.

SF and I began talking, slowly relaying emails back and forth to one another, talking about how much we liked the Helen and Hector pairing and how few of these fanfiction's there are around and this really 'inspired' me to write a little fanfic of my own on them. It's set at the time of the Trojan war, but Helen and Hector meet before then, so that should set a bit of a story or understanding of my both characters.

So this fanfic is dedicated to Shining Friendship, who shares my love of this pairing and has literally been waiting for me to post this up. :)

Disclaimer: "I don't own Troy, nor any of the characters etc. Though I wish I did own Eric Bana." :D


Against All The Odds

Chapter 1: First Glance

"…and these shipments should be moved to Hydra", concluded the younger Prince of Troy, his finger marking the specified place on a large map, spread out over the length of a stone-worked slab.

Hector, Prince of Troy smiled to himself as he watched his younger brother converse with Menelaus. The two, along with Nestor, had been poring over countless maps that morning, discussing certain decree's and laws, reserved battalions which needed more funding, trading between the Aegean Sea with the allies of neighbouring islands, and now the topic of conversation had turned to specified trade routes in which the Grecian army should receive their stores sooner.

"If you move these ships to Magnesia, Euboea and Laurium then they will be able to distribute the wares earlier."

Both brother's had flipped a coin before arriving on who was to deal with the 'political' affairs this time, and it was Paris who had lost.

"Why did I choose heads", muttered the younger of the two Princes.

"Because you're an imbecile", chuckled Hector ruffling his hair affectionately.

"Get off", grumbled Paris slapping hard his brother's hand away and stinging comment.

"Paris, you'll do fine", Hector reassured, folding his arms firmly and leaning against the railing of the ship.

"You know how I hate these things, I'm going to end up tripping over my own feet and stumbling over my own words, and the outcome will be that I'll have insulted Menelaus without even knowing what it is I've said, and then father will have to work out some sort of treaty all over again, and it'll be all because of me", said Paris, wringing his hands nervously.

Hector smiled with amusement, "How you come up with these ideas Paris I'll never know. Don't worry, you'll do fine. Just use that head of yours properly and you'll have nothing to worry about."

"That's easy for you to say", continued Paris, oblivious to Hector unconsciously rolling his eyes, "you've done it countless times before."

"Paris", began Hector sternly, raising his voice slightly, "you'll be fine, stop fretting and stop wringing your hands like that, you look like a twelve year old girl about to attend her first communion with Apollo."

Paris' eyes flickered to look at his brother sideways, a slight smile forming at the corners of his mouth, and then abruptly he let fly a playful punch to Hector's arm.

"You son of a dog", Hector taunted, rubbing his arm and smiling broadly at the same time.

"Your mother has the face of a horse", Paris laughed as the coastline of Sparta came into view.

Hector smiled faintly remembering the rest of the conversation- Paris could be more than a handful at times, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Those auburn eyes still wide with the residue of amusement, flickered back to the scene at hand; Paris had briefly turned his head to look back at his brother as if looking for reassurance. Hector smiled encouragingly and soon the three were back to bending over the map, pointing and discussing some unknown matter. Paris was doing fine.

No. The voice in Hector's head sounded, he's doing more than fine. He's doing excellent.

His appeal to the whole affair was excellent; it was like he was born for this, discussing diplomatic matters and talking sense into the most powerful of ally's. A deep sigh escaped Hector's lips before he took another sit from his goblet of wine and looked back at his brother bent over the stone-worked slab, deeply occupied within his little debate. These kinds of things took hours, if not more than a day! And Paris seemed to be on a roll.

The hum of Nestor's voice faded into the background as Hector made his way toward an open window. The bay of Sparta looked magnificent from the view, in the distance little fishermen set about to their tasks on their little boats with a leisurely-like enthusiasm. The Prince's gaze then roved southwards towards the grounds of the palace. Some one hundred feet below a small garden blooming with flowers the many different shades of crimsons, pinks and whites, livened up the dreary backdrop of the grey-stoned palace.

Three figures, two garbed in robes of 'ladies in waiting' lazily followed the third figure attired in a sapphire dyed toga. Vibrant waves of gold flowed down the woman's back, swaying every so often in the sea breeze whenever she moved.

Perhaps…Menelaus' wife?

"She's a real beauty isn't she?"

Hector started as Menelaus' voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Aaah, yes", the Trojan Prince chuckled nervously, eyes darting back and forth between the windowsill and Menelaus' face.

"She was sixteen when I met her", Menelaus began, slowly waltzing up to the windowsill and peering down at his wife among her garden of flowers, "and I knew then at that moment I wanted that girl and she would be mine."

Hector frowned slightly at the Grecian King's words and turned his gaze down to where the fair haired 'girl' moved here and there as a small speck against the near-midday sun.

A girl you say Menelaus?

"The most beautiful woman in the world. Daughter of Zeus himself", boasted Menelaus proudly.

"So I hear", smiled Hector blandly.

"Come Hector", said Menelaus gesturing towards the stone-worked slab where Nestor and Paris were still bent over their map, "there are some matters which I wish to discuss with you of significant importance."

The Grecian King turned with a flutter of his robes and made his way over to the other side of the room. Hector stared after him for a moment and unconsciously clicked his fingernails against the side of his goblet before stealing one last fleeting glance down at the golden haired woman in her garden.

The most beautiful woman in the world…and yet I do not even know your name…

The Trojan Prince sighed deeply and raked a hand through his hair.

and when will we meet?


Author/Banshee Queen: "Good? Bad? An unrealistic Hector? Tell me what you think."