Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Wolfgang Peterson won't return my calls, nor will Brad Pitt. Apparently Brad's in Africa with Angelina at the moment… just kidding.

Siyavash: I sort of know what you're trying to say. But can I please beg you to give me a chance to write? I have only posted 3 actual chapters before this, and I know that you mean well when you give your advice, but I have to admit that you sounded insulting in your long note that you sent me—A story is a writer's baby, and if you don't like it, then give constructive criticism or move on. Don't tell me what to do with my story. But I assure you that there is an explanation for everything. I'm not going to hold my readers' hands and lead them through the story, giving them the answer at the very beginning. Nobody enjoys that; they would simply get up and leave. Ok, I'm done ranting, but I hope you will at least try to give this a chance.

Shariena: Sorry, hon, you're going to have to wait 1 more chapter… 

Ok, folks, on with the show!

Sunlight peeked through the windows and doors into the palace, inquisitively searching for the royal family of Troy despite the somewhat early hour. A few servants confronted her, jumping and blinking sleepily at her wandering rays, but her quest appeared to be in vain, for most of the house continued to sleep off the effects of last night's continued celebration of Paris' nuptials. Only a few hours had passed since the majority of the guests had stumbled off to bed, in fact.

Her search went through the eastern side of the palace, bathing it in pink and yellow and warming its rooms to a comfortable temperature. Helen and Paris appeared to still be asleep, Priam restlessly rolled in his own chambers, Petra and Briseis each dozed quietly in their respective rooms, and Hector…

When Aurora's eyes reached Hector's quarters, however, the sun goddess beamed at the sight of the great warrior, the tamer of horses, playing with his son on the sunlit veranda while his mother continued to dream in the bedroom. Astyanax let out a shrieking laugh when his father tossed him up and caught him, ending with a relentless tickling that entertained and tormented the child.

Hector kept his expression and behavior light for his son's benefit despite his internal worries about last night. His sister's temperament usually stayed at a positive high whenever he saw her, but perhaps melancholy entered her moods during his and Paris' absence. Never before had he seen her experience such sadness, in her entire life.

Making a mental note to remedy this with Paris' help, Hector continued to laugh at his son's antics and play. Finally Astyanax let out a delicate yawn and curled up against his father's chest, nestling in for a nap.

Finally. Hector chucked his son's chin playfully and hugged the small form in his arms. I wonder if Andromache…

"We missed you." Andromache stepped onto the veranda, still dressed in her nightgown with a wrapper keeping her warm. Hector's smile grew in intimacy as he held out a hand to her, and he clasped hers tightly, intertwining their fingers. She smiled at him despite her exhaustion. Astyanax never enjoyed his father's absences and never slept well when Hector left for more than a night. Now she had his father keeping her up late at nights.

But as their fingers laced together, she knew she would have it no other way, for all the gifts of the gods.

"I dislike being away from my wife and son." Hector lifted her hand to his lips, gently kissing the soft skin and rubbing it against his jaw. "I'll speak to my father about perhaps avoiding traveling so far for a few months."

Andromache's beaming face rewarded him. She sat next to him on the bench, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

"What did you and your father discuss last night?" she asked. She would have stayed to listen and be supportive, but around the time that he was to meet with his father, Astyanax's temper reached its limit and the infant had needed desperately to be put to bed. So she soothed their child to sleep and now listened to hear the story from her husband.

"Petra." He felt her sigh instead of hearing it but continued. "She overheard it too, apparently. And two nights ago I found her doing sword practice in her room."

"Someday I fear she will willingly fall on it," Andromache admitted in a whisper.

Hector paused in his rubbing his son's back soothingly. "So this has been going on for a while." She nodded in confirmation. He frowned and looked out at the sky. "Is my father aware of this?"

"She won't let me tell him," Andromache explained. "The council has grown more impatient towards a decision for her marriage. She knows how this troubles your father and wishes to spare him pain. And now, with the possibly war coming…"

This last part caught Hector's attention vividly. Andromache usually denied the possibility of wars and battles, longing for peace at all times.

Her sad smile met his. "It is unavoidable now," she said softly, letting a hand skim over his back. "I know that this time we cannot avoid war. At least," she looked over to the sea towards where he had been looking, "this time you'll be here and I will know your fate every day, instead of waiting."

Keeping one arm on Astyanax, he let the other slide around her. "I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair. When she clung tighter to him, he said it again, fighting the ache in his throat. "I'm sorry."

Shuddering, she let a few tears spill down her cheek. In her heart, she prayed desperately for the gods to spare him. She could not lose his strength and courage, for he was her anchor that kept her secure.

After spilling some of her grief, she let herself pull away from his warm embrace. "Go visit with Petra," she said, standing and taking Astyanax.

He knew that her abrupt change of topic came more from her concern for her sister-in-law rather than a want of privacy, but he wondered at the wisdom of her suggestion after this gloomy topic.

"Are you sure?" he tried not to push.

"Nobody missed you as much as she did," Andromache said as she walked into their room, cradling their son. Over her shoulder, she added with a smile, "Except me. But you have seen me. You haven't seen her."

Hector did not argue but smiled back at her. After spending a moment to pause, he soon followed and slid on a shirt before exiting into the palace.

Inside the interior of the palace, more now occurred. A few courtiers wandered through the halls along with servants, but Hector passed them with only a nod of acknowledgment and entered the rest of his family's quarters.

The royal family's section of the palace continued to be silent. He soon reached Petra's door and knocked firmly on the solid wood.

When you feel all alone
And the world has turned it's back on you
Give me a moment please to tame your wild, wild heart

No one answered. This did not deter the heir of Troy.

"Petra." He rapped again. But he still received no reply. Sighing, Hector stepped back and muttered under his breath before making his move. He charged the door.

A loud crash echoed through the halls quickly and he winced.

Splintered wood shot throughout Petra's room, covering the floor and every surface within ten feet of the door, except in a circle around the place where Petra stood, still in mid-step towards the door.

Staring wide-eyed and gape-mouthed at her now-demolished door, she whispered with disbelief, "Zeus's beard." Her once pristine room now had chalky plaster from the wall chunks that now were missing from the doorframe and oak chips that once had guarded her from intruders scattered all over the smooth marble floors and few piece of furniture.

Hector arched an eyebrow at her words. "Language," he mildly reprimanded her, like he used to when she was younger.

"You destroyed my door," she reminded him; "I think that's enough reason to swear…" She shook her head, however, and turned a full circle to take in the extent of the damage. She groaned when she realized that now it would take weeks probably to remove the film from the dust on the couch to the left of the door. "Dear gods, Hector!"

"Well, you didn't answer," he said without remorse.

"I was getting up to," she argued, forgetting the wood fragments now covering her room for a moment.

Hector's brow puckered with skepticism.

"I was!"

I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you
It's hard to find relieve and people can be so cold
When darkness is upon your door and

You feel like you can't take anymore

"What were you doing, then, that absorbed your attention so that you failed to hear my knock?" Hector challenged, crossing his arms over his chest in a silent challenge.

She rolled her eyes and made a gesture at herself. Suddenly Hector was acutely aware of the water now dripping into a puddle near her feet, her soaked hair that clung to the sides of her face and the scent of jasmine from the corner of the room. He also spied a large tub in the opposite corner of her room that still had steam swirling over it in lazy circles.

"Oh." Hector vainly attempted to hide his embarrassment. "I was worried that perhaps-"

"No you, too!" she groaned, rubbing her forehead and shaking her wet hair out of her face, only resulting in spraying water droplets all over her brother, but he barely noticed.

"I-"

"Hector, I am not going to kill myself!" she interrupted. "I have no desire to die before I have even really begun to live! I may be moody, but I am sure it is from loneliness and not some strange malady on my sanity."

"And I am not allowed to worry?" She tilted her head to the side, studying his body language of concern.

"I do not want you to be anxious over me."

"Too late. I started the moment you were born." She chuckled while pulling her robe closer. A breeze swept through the room, making her shiver.

Hector walked over to her bed and picked up a blanket then returned to where she stood, handing it to her. When she shook her head, he adamantly shoved it in her direction. She rolled her eyes at him, but smiled as she wrapped herself up and felt her cold skin beginning to warm.

"Listen," Hector took a step back respectfully, "I came to ask if you wanted to go for a ride today, or perhaps play a game or two of chess." He exhaled deeply when her eyes sparkled at the suggestion.

Inside he could kick himself for not coming up with this idea sooner. Already she looked much improved, with healthy color to her face.

"I promised to see you more when I returned, and I have failed to keep that promise," he added, letting his arms fall back to clasp behind his back. "I now have the time to fulfill it."

Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night

"What about your-" She started to dim when she remembered the many distractions that her brother usually always had. But he shook his head adamantly.

"Andromache suggested this, and I miss spending time with my little sister." Hector took a step forward, chucking her chin. Their eyes met, his solemn yet playful, hers welling with hope and excitement. "I will always have enough time for you."

She knew that Hector meant it, for he always kept his word honorably, especially for her.

"So," he stepped carefully back to the hall, "I shall send someone to clean this up, you get dressed, and we shall see how today goes." Petra nodded enthusiastically. "I'll meet you in the stables in an hour."

Whistling to himself, Hector walked away and chuckled when he heard her feet running to finish quickly.

At the stables he ordered for the horses to be prepared. He noticed the empty stall next to his stallion, Takhys, and turned to the head groom. "What happened to your mistress Petra's horse, Alexis?" The groom looked up with confusion. "Leukippos, where is he?"

"Oh, him." The groom's jovial face fell at that. "I'm afraid he suffered a broken leg about a month ago, my lord. He…" Alexis did not finish.

"I see." Not only had she lost her freedom to do as she pleased, but also Petra lost her horse, one of her few escapes and true friends in this place besides her brothers. He had personally chosen Leukippos from one of Takhys' mistresses, knowing that the horse would prove both loyal and strong at Petra's hands.

He sighed and called out for another horse to be readied for her.

If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone

Hector kept his word. While her bedroom door was being repaired, Petra joined him for a ride on the beach.

Through the city, they kept a sedate pace as to not alarm the people. But once at the gates, they took off like two of Apollo's arrows through the large doors, heading for the sea with the wind nipping at their ears. A breathless laugh escaped Petra's lips and she let her head fall back, shouting with total abandonment at the sky. Hector grinned and let his horse race past hers.

"If you're not careful, I'll be at the water before you even pass the dunes!" he shouted the warning to her over their horses' hooves.

Her expression changed from absolute joy to calculating how to beat him in less than the blink of an eye. "I beg to differ!" she hollered back, gliding away in front.

Their chase led up and down the sand until they tied at the edge of the wet sand.

When you feel all alone
And a loyal friend is hard to find
You're caught in a one way street
With the monsters in your head

When they reached the water, Petra slid off and ran to where the waves broke, twirling around and chasing her shadow up and down the sand while carelessly pulling her hair loose from its chignon and letting it dance in the wind. She reminded Hector of the water nymphs the priests talked about.

The lightness in her step assured him that, indeed, he had made a wise decision by taking her out of the palace. He could kick himself for not doing this sooner and silently let up a prayer of thanks to the gods for giving him a wise and wonderful woman as a wife.

While he mused, Petra squinted at the bright sun, tilting her head backwards. "It's so hot," she commented when he had joined her side.

"Indeed." A splash of cold water hit her and startled her out of her thoughts. When she glanced over at her brother, Hector only gave her a look of innocence despite the tell-tale wet that clung to his sandals and shin.

Her return kick resulted in soaking him from the knees down.

"Oh, I'll get you for that!" he vowed, leaning down to scoop up a handful of water, only to get assaulted by a wave in his face for his troubles.

Petra giggled at his amazed look before taking off down the shores.

For a while they ran and shouted playful insults at each other, laughing when some antic backfired or stopping to do mindless chatter. Most of their talk circled around Hector's latest travel and the city of Sparta.

"It really is a plain city," Hector was saying as they strolled back to where their horses waited. The sun now was halfway through the sky. "No monuments anywhere, except at the temples, and even then they have few tributes to the gods other than an idol or two. It's really nothing like Troy." He threw a rock at the rollicking water.

"Poor Helen," Petra wondered, "all alone, with no friends in such a place…"

"That will never happen to you," Hector assured her. "Helen does not have the strength you posses, Pet." His sister let her hand brush against his. Despite his deprecating words about Sparta, he knew how she longed to travel, and his accounts were all she had.

When hopes and dreams are far away and
You feel like you can't face they day

When she refrained from speaking for a while, Hector glanced sideways at her. "Shall we head back to the palace for some chess?" he suggested, not wanting to watch her sink into melancholy again.

"Why wait?" She grinned and walked over to her saddlebag, pulling out a board and a cloth bag, supposedly holding the chess pieces.

"Petra!" Hector shook his head in amusement at her. "When…?"

"I slipped it in while you were checking Takhys' reins," she admitted as she walked to a flat area, smoothing it with her sandal before she sank down and started to set up the game. "Prepared to lose again?"

"You lost last time," he argued but joined her.

"No, you won two times ago. Last time I won because you let the ambassador from Thebes make that one move for you that resulted in my checkmate." He made a face at her accurate recollection and inwardly yet again cursed the Theban whose ill advice cost him a game. However, Petra now rarely lost, for Hector and Priam taught her tactics well. She would make a fine general who would always win battles with her strategy, if she had been born a boy.

Because there has always been heartache and pain
And when it's over you'll breathe again
You'll breath again

Night, Troy

Helen and Petra sat, facing each other across the small table they sat at. The new princess had challenged Petra to a game with tiles, and now was contemplating how to possibly recoup the losses she now sustained.

After scanning the board, Helen slowly picked up one piece and moved it. "There!" she declared with triumph. "Beat that!"

Petra shrugged and only let her one finger brush one over two spaces.

Helen's groan echoed through the room and Petra giggled at Helen's dismay. Across the room, Andromache strummed on her lute while humming to her son, now occupying his father's arms. Hector shook his head at Helen's plight.

"Good luck," he called over to her; "Paris and I haven't beaten her for years, except every once in a blue moon." Andromache, not missing a beat, ceased singing but nodded in agreement as she kept her fingers pluck at the strings.

"Why did no one inform me of this before I agreed upon this?" Helen demanded.

"And miss out on this?" Petra asked with a mischievous grin. She ducked expertly when Helen threw one of the pillows at her side towards Petra's head.

Paris and Priam watched this warming scene from the window.

"She is happy here," Priam observed the gold and dark heads bent over the dominoes in the corner, meaning Helen. "I am glad for you, Paris."

"It is not entirely my own doing," Paris admitted. "If Petra had not been here, I am not sure that Helen would be accepted by anyone, let alone the few that now talk to her."

"I agree." Priam smiled at his son's surprise. "You may think that I have been too distracted by the council, son, but I still have eyes and ears."

Frowning, Paris shook his head and started to make the usual protest.

"Father, I never meant-" But Priam cut him off with a wave of his hand, not offended.

"No, no, you never said anything, Paris, nor suggested that you think that." Priam's gaze fell back on his daughter and newest member of his growing family. His countenance saddened however. "They are two peas in a pod, those two. They know what it's like."

"'Like?'" Paris echoed with confusion wrinkling his face.

Priam sighed, gesturing for his son to follow him. They stepped out of the torch-lit room and out into a vacant hallway adjoining the room.

The scent of jasmine sifted through the night, entering their senses along with the spectacular sunset over the horizon. Paris closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. How he had missed his country while in Sparta! Despite his meeting Helen, he had longed for the beaches of his home.

"Something tells me that Helen can empathize with Petra's current state of unhappiness." Paris' face changed from surprised to guilty in the space of a few seconds, but Priam patted his son's arm. "She has tried to hide it from you, Paris, for she wants you to enjoy what little peace you will have. She knows that you don't always think of consequences."

Paris flushed at the truthful reprimand, however mildly it was worded. He hung his head, feeling like a six year old being punished yet again for getting him and his little sister into worrisome situations that probably gave his father all his gray hair.

"I do not say this to bring pain or guilt on you, son. I am merely saying that bringing Helen here might have been a gift from the gods, to help your sister as well as you."

Both men fell into silence when Petra and Helen's combined laughter met their ears. They looked over to the room, still cocooned in happiness.

Night fell over the city, and all through her Troy's people ended their day. Husbands and wives embraced goodnight, children drifted into the land of their dreams, pets nestled at their owner's feet, and livestock lowed. They believed that no harm came towards them, nor could touch them. They were safe behind the secure walls of Troy. They had been so for a thousand years.

But King Priam looked over the city with a worried frown. Paris understood why, without needing any explanation.

They both knew the peace would be short. The Greeks were coming.

Author's Note: The song is Crash and Burn by Savage Garden. BTW, the horses names are: Takhys fast, Leukippos white horse. Sorry, not very creative.