All Manner of Sins

Disclaimer: All characters belong to the people who made “Troy” and to Homer, but he’s dead. I only own um, well, the other stuff.
A/N If you don’t like slash, don’t read this.

That night, Hector couldn't sleep. He couldn't stop thinking about Paris' fight. He decided that a walk in the garden would do him some good. He gently disentangled himself from his wife, put on some clothes and his cloak, and left the room. He had been walking in the garden for some minutes, when he saw a figure sitting on a bench. As he approached, he realized it was Helen. She looked up at him, but didn't move. He sat down beside her on the cold stone.
"You couldn't sleep?" she asked him.
"No. It would seem that you couldn't either." She shook her head.
"I keep thinking about what happened this afternoon."
"So do I," he told her.
"I keep coming back to what I was thinking when he was fighting. I kept thinking…" Hector looked over as the woman fell silent.
"What were you thinking?"
"Of what you would do with me if he died." Hector was surprised. "I was afraid that you would force me to go back to Menelaus. I thought that the only reason that your father was letting me stay was because Paris would leave if I was sent away."
Hector put his arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder.
"My father wouldn't have let you go back." Helen looked up at Hector in shock.
"He may have let me stay, but you would have resented it." Hector almost told her that he would have, but he realized that it wasn't the truth.
"No, I wouldn't have resented it. I may have wanted to send you back while we were on the sea and before the Greeks came, but now…" It was Hector's turn to trail off. Helen brought her face very close to Hector's.
"Truly?" Hector nodded. "Then you are a generous and caring man." Hector could feel her breath warm on his face. And he didn't have time to move as she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips were soft and warm against his, and if he'd had any less self-control, he would have taken her right there. But instead he pulled away.
"Don't," he said, trying to keep the desire out of his voice. "My brother loves you. I do not. There are many emotions floating around in both of us and it would be poor judgment for us to do anything."
Helen nodded and turned away. "I am sorry that I acted so rashly." And before Hector could say anything, she walked away. But now Hector knew that he needed to go see Achilles.

Hector quietly headed toward one of the secret exits from the gardens. After he was out of the city, he slowly made his way down to the Greek camp. He saw a flicker of flames in the distance and knew that the dead were being burned. As much as Hector had not wanted to kill Menelaus, he was almost glad that it had happened. Now, Paris had seen death. He had come face to face with the consequences of his actions. And then he had gotten to see what the consequences of Menelaus' death were. Hopefully, Paris had taken the lesson to heart. Not that it mattered now, because sending Helen back would solve nothing. Once he thought of Helen, his mind was drawn back to the kiss in the garden. Had it been such a kiss that had drawn Paris to Helen? Or had it been something darker and more violent. Hector didn't know his brother well enough to guess as to what he liked in bed. He didn't even really want to know. But he was sure that Helen would have been able to give Paris exactly what he wanted and that would have been his undoing. She had known exactly how to approach Hector so as to get him to compromise himself, and had it been almost any other night, he would have fallen into the same trap as his brother. Hector wasn't naive enough to believe that Helen didn't know her own power. It was obvious to him now that the kiss had been pure self-preservation. She had said herself that she was afraid of what would happen if Paris died. She must have thought that if she could seduce Hector, it would ensure her position in Troy. By this time, Hector had reached the camp. He then started sneaking toward where Achilles slept.