Author's note: Okay, this is my second Herc/Meg fanfic. Helen is going to be in this one, that's why it's set in Troy. In this chapter I didn't give her parents names because they're pretty minor characters...and I couldn't think of any. I plan on continuing my other fanfics so it might take a while for me to update this one.

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Meg swept a loose strand of her auburn hair away from her face. "Are we nearing the city, Sir?" she asked the cart-driver sitting next to her. The man mumbled something that sounded like 'close.'

She held the basket carrying her belongings close to her body as the wagon bounced over the uneven road. They had been traveling for hours but she could still only see farmland. She kept her eyes on the path ahead of them, expecting to eventually see the city walls of Troy; their destination.

"What's a young lady like you doin' travelin' all by yourself."

She was startled to hear the old man speak. He had remained silent for most of the trip, save for the polite greeting he had given her when he picked her up. Then again, she had no desire to talk to him either.

"I have a job in the city." she answered.

"That ain't what I asked." He said as he used the reins to maneuver the horse around, yet another, pothole.

She looked down at her life's possessions in her lap. Why was she alone? It was a question she had been asking herself since they had set out on this journey. Her mother had tried to explain to her this morning...

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Meg was awaken from her pleasant dreams by the sound of shuffling near her bed. She opened her heavy eyelids to see Mother taking clothes out of her dresser drawer, folding them, and laying them in a basket on the floor. She quietly watched her mother's movements as she opened the closet and pulled an extra blanket from the shelf, gently placing it over the basket. She then left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Meg turned onto her side and closed her eyes, waiting for her dreams to sweep her away once again. Before they could, however, she felt a hand grip her shoulder and shake it. She pushed it away and buried her face deeper into her pillow.

"Megara." She could hear the muffled voice of her father from under her sheets. She peeked out of the covers and saw him standing over her bed, looking sternly at her. "It's time to go."

She rubbed her tired eyes, "What?"

"It's time to go." He repeated, picking the basket off of the floor.

She sat up and gave her father a confused look, "Go where?"

"You've got a job in the city. Get dressed." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

She stared at the door, listening, as his footsteps gradually faded down the hallway. She pushed the covers away and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet feeling the chill of the cold stone floor. 'What did he mean?,' she thought as she rubbed the goosebumps growing on her arms. She had never had a job before and besides cooking and cleaning with her mother, she had never worked before.

She walked to her window and looked up at the sky. Apollo was just raising the sun, iluminating the earth beneath him. She loved sunrises; just watching the prism of colors decorate the sky for a few short moments, only to be seen again when the day was done, sent chills up her spine. After it was over, she lowered her violet eyes to view her fathers small farm.

The corn stalks were growing very well this year and she could see her brothers hauling equipment from the barn to prepare for the harvest. At 16, she was the youngest in her family next to her older brother Jason (who was 18) and her eldest brother Mark (who was 21). Both of her brothers also helped other farmers in the local area during the harvest season. Most of which didn't have sons or who's children had already moved on to find their way in the world.

"Megara!" She heard Father yell at her door.

"Coming!" She slipped off her nightdress and picked a brown chiton from the closet. She put on her well-worn sandals and opened the door, hoping her father wouldn't notice that she hadn't brushed her hair or washed her face.

"Let's go." He grabbed her by the hand, lead her downstairs, and into the front room. Meg saw Mother standing silently by the door, holding the basket she had watched her pack earlier. Her brothers were not there.

Father let go of her hand and went into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

Meg turned to her mother, "What's going on?"

Mother glanced, nervously, at the kitchen door, as if expecting her husband to return immediatly. When he didn't, she responded, "Your father has found a job for you in the city," she lowered her head, "You will be living there."

Meg couldn't hide her shocked expression, "What?"

She was only 16! Sure, most of the girls her age had already moved out of their parents house to marry. But surely her father wouldn't force her to leave, would he? Why did she have to leave when her brothers didn't?

Her brothers had moved into the farmhouse when they each turned 18, so they could still help their father on the farm. They would probably stay there until they found wives of their own, which they would take their sweet time doing since Father didn't charge them for living there.

Father returned carrying a wrapped bundle, "Here." He said gruffly, handing it to her.

She stared confusedly at the package, then at Father. He ignored her puzzled expression and opened the front door, gesturing for her to follow. When she didn't move, he grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her out of the door, into the morning sun. She shaded her eyes with her hand. She saw a wagon parked in front of the house; recognizing the driver as a merchant that her father had dealt with regularly at the agora.

She started to panic, the reality of the situation weighing upon her: Her family was sending her away, to live in the city, by herself.

She spun around to face Father, "I don't want to leave!"

She pleaded with him but he remained stone-faced as he took the parcel from her and placed it on top of the basket. He then placed it in the cart next to the driver.

Having no luck with him, she turned to Mother, pulling her into an embrace, "You can't do this, please!"

Mother held on to her tightly but said nothing. After a few moments, she could feel the strong arms of her father pull her by the waist towards the wagon...

--

"Are you alright?"

Meg jumped at the sound, her thoughts returning to the present, "I'm sorry. I was just...thinking." She paused, "To answer your question: I-I don't know why."

The man nodded, his vision focused on the road.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye, curious as to why he didn't ask any other questions. They continued to ride in silence, leaving each other to their own thoughts. Out of boredom, Meg rummaged through her basket. She pulled out the package that her father had given her and opened it.

It was a loaf of sweet bread, her favorite food. A lump formed in her throat as she remembered how she loved to bake sweet bread with her mother during the cold winter months. Mother eventually let her bake it by herself, making sure she knew the recipe by heart. Teach a man to fish, you feed a man. Teach a woman to fish, you feed a city-state, Mother would always say. As a child, Meg giggled at the phrase, not understanding why anyone would want to eat fish for the rest of their lives.

Now, she saw that her mother was just preparing her for this day. The day that she would leave her home and make it on her own.

"Hey, you gonna' to eat all that?" the man said, once again, interrupting her thoughts.

She was going to give him a sharp retort, but thought better of it. He probably wasn't getting paid much by her father to drive her all the way to the city and she certainly didn't have any money. Besides, it wasn't his fault she was being sent away.

She broke off a piece and gave it to him, which he took graciously, eating it in a few bites. She saved her half, tucking it in the bottom of the basket.

The merchant nudged her with his elbow, "We're here."

Meg faced forward and saw what looked like a large brick in the distance. Squinting, she started to see crowds of people filtering in and out of it through a large gate. She took a deep breath. This was it.

This was Troy.