Perseus: Excidium Troiae

Two

A/N: Alright, so I am so sorry for not updating this story for a while. I actually got an idea from my sister: to pre-write this story; complete it before publishing further (And I also went on hiatus but who cares). If you're reading this, it means I am almost or already done pre-writing the first arc of this story and will be posting a new chapter in a few days or weeks, if I can manage it. I got a lot of positive feedback on the last chapter I published and I'm glad you all like it. Also, as you all probably know, in ancient times, girls married early. They came of age at about twelve years or something. And were married off to some old king with a sagging gut and bad breath. I'll try to increase the age a little here because just the thought of twelve year olds getting married makes me shudder. I'm going to go by facts here, and...a review or comment would be nice. Throw in a couple of votes if you like the chapter. Thank you all for reading and being dedicated to this story.

-TripleHomicide.

(I know that about 95.9% of you didn't read that long A/N, lol. On with the story...)

Four years later...

HECTOR ran a hand through his dark hair, groaning in impatience. The Prince of Troy leaned on the wall, shutting his eyes and waiting. His sisters had been pestering him for ages. They had asked to go out of the palace—to accompany him into the forest. He had refused, but then his mother, Queen Hecuba, had stepped in and ordered him to take them along, for some reason he still didn't know yet. He let his head fall into his hands. If he had known they would take this long to get ready he would've risked disobeying his mother's orders.

The door to Cassandra's chambers creaked open and he let out a loud sigh of relief. His friends had probably been waiting long. All because his sisters were intent on seeing the trees and flowers. He scowled as Cassandra breezed out of her room, her long golden hair billowing around her. She was in a white gossamer dress, which fell to her feet and onto her brown sandals. Her head was crowned with a golden circlet. Hector's dark eyes met his sister's and he said, "Where's Creusa?"

"Here I am." He turned at the soft voice of his other sister, who was two years younger than he was. He folded his arms and said, "What, were both of you having beauty pageants in your chambers or something?" He was unable to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

"Oh, don't be so grouchy, brother," Cassandra's hard voice made him roll his eyes. "We are ready, we can go now."

He grunted in response, eyes shifting to take in the sight of Creusa as she appeared next to Cassandra. She was dressed more simply—a white peplos underneath a brown cloak similar to the one Hector was wearing. He handed Cassandra the cloak he had been holding and waited for her to don it. When his sister was done, he led them towards the palace gates.

"We're not going to be out long, mind you," Hector said decisively. "I'm going to the lake to meet Aeneas and Perseus and you aren't to complain because we'll be walking the entire way. I didn't fetch horses."

"I don't mind," Cassandra said, shrugging. "Beggars can't be choosers, can they?"

Both Hector and Creusa snorted at her words, seeing whom they were coming from. The ends of his lips pulled up in a smile as they walked out. "They can't," Hector finally said. "Now follow me. I know a shortcut."

-X-

AENEAS glanced up from the scroll he was reading when he heard the footsteps. A smile was already forming on his lips as he spoke. "Took you long enough, Hec—" His smile fell when his best friend walked into the clearing, two extremely beautiful girls at his heels. He blinked in surprise as he recognised them. Princesses Cassandra and Creusa, Hector's younger sisters. Cassandra was younger by a year and Creusa by two. Which meant Creusa was his age. Sixteen. Aeneas' eyes fluttered over them as he took in the sight of the two oldest daughters of Priam. Cassandra glanced at him, her eyes a little condescending, then looked around the clearing, as if searching for someone. Aeneas looked towards Creusa and their eyes met. His breath hitched.