She was wading in the shallows of the Aegean when the Greeks came. She was holding her skirts out of the water with one hand while the other pulled shells from the water. War cries screamed in the silence and her head jerked up, a perfect sand dollar fell from her hand. Startled she ran back to the shore and up to the wall of the cliff, she followed it until she could peak her head around the corner of the rock. The normally empty miles of shoreline were filled with Greek warships and warriors spilled over the sides, charging up the sand.

She stared with wide eyes and an open mouth as thousands of Greek men in full armor marched toward Troy, her home. She yanked herself backwards and out of sight in panic, her back pressed hard against the face of the cliff. Forming a plan she raced back to the waterline, scooped up her shell basket and ran along the edge of the water until she hit the point where the cliff turned into the sea. The Trojan girl lifted her basket and placed it on a rock above her head. She hoisted up her skirts and began to climb, her thin sandals slipping on the wet rocks. She climbed up to the ledge and once again picked up her basket filled with beautiful shells that earlier that day she had planned to make into jewelry so she could make a living. Keeping low she scrambled along the ledge looking for the hole in the rock she knew was close. With relief she found it, a crevice in the rock, just big enough that she could squeeze into. Carefully she lowered herself into the hole, bringing her basket with her. Her heart pounding in her thin chest she settled down, knowing that if she was to stay alive that she could not be found. After all, living as a slave to a Greek warlord wouldn't be living at all.

The longer she was in the hole the more her heart rate began to slow and she calmed down. But then the longer she stayed down the more she worried for her friends, her family and her country. It had been just after midday when the Greeks had come and now the sun was just before setting.

She hoped desperately that her family was alright. Knowing her brother Jonathan, he would have foolishly attacked the Greeks because of loyalty to Troy and likely gotten himself killed. She just hoped he had been inside the city when they attacked, then he wouldn't have been able to get out. Troy was built to hold out against a siege. Tears leaked from her eyes and furiously she wiped them away. "Apollo, guard them." She whispered.

Sliding rocks startled her and caused her to gasp. She tightened in on herself, hugging her knees to her chest. She could hear it now, footsteps crunching on the rock. Her heart began to beat faster as the fear set in, the tears came faster now as she sat terrified.

She could hear the footsteps getting closer, and when it felt like they were right on top of her they stopped. She looked up, seeing nothing but sky. The person on the rocks took one more step and the head of a Greek soldier came into view. Her breath caught in both wonder and fear.

The man was a God, if she didn't know better she would've thought he was Apollo himself. Golden hair curled around his head and when he glanced down at her she saw golden eyes.

She whimpered in fear as his eyes locked with hers. For a moment he just stared at her, his face a blank mask, not showing even a hint of surprise. He glanced up with a sigh before turning his gaze back to her. With a determined expression he came closer so his whole body came into view. He knelt down and reached out an arm. She shifted away from the offending limb, still too terrified to speak.

The soldier sighed again, "I won't hurt you." He said in a deep voice, he sounded so sincere. "It's alright girl, I won't hurt you."

Something inside her shifted and she snapped at him, "I'm not a girl! I'm eighteen summers old I'll have you know."

The man smirked and his hand twitched. "Well my lady will you come out now?"

She hesitated then clasped her hand in his and he pulled. His other Arm came down to wrap around her waist and lift her out of the rock. He set her on her feet and let go, taking a step back. She straightened her dress and he observed her. Feeling his eyes on her she stopped and looked at him.

"Well, lady or not, you are a tiny thing aren't you?"

"Clary." She said simply and he frowned.

"What?"

She smirked, "My name, it's Clary. Yours?"

"Oh." He nodded and adjusted the armor on his chest. "Jace Herondale of Sparta."

She snorted, "A Spartan, how typical."

"And what do you have against Sparta?"

Clary fixed him with a furious stare, "The men of Sparta, and all of Greece have just attacked my home. How should I feel to Sparta, soldier?"

He crossed his arms over his chest casually. "Your Princes humiliated Greece, we could not let it stand."

"So you go to war because one man could not hold onto his wife?" She snapped at him. "You would punish innocent people because of a woman with a fickle heart."

"We had our orders." He defended.

Her breath came out as a hiss. "All you Greeks are the same. Bloodthirsty, caring not for others, only caring about your own glory on the battlefield." She stabbed her finger in his face. "You disgrace the Gods with your arrogance and your cruelty."

The soldier stared at her, stunned. His astonishment quickly turned to annoyance. "You know nothing about the Greeks, if you did you would not be so free with your tongue."

She stared at him quietly with anger burning in her eyes. After a moment she turned away from him and began walking inland.

"Where are you going?" He called after her.

"Home." She stated, "Or to what's left of it."

He watched her get a little farther away before calling back. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

She stopped and turned to look at him where he stood holding her basket. With an impatient huff she stalked back to him and attempted to snatch the basket away.

"Give it to me."

"Why should I?" He stared down at her, his gold bangs falling in his eyes. "You insulted the Greeks, and besides, if I am as bloodthirsty as you say I am, I could kill you this instant."

Her eyes narrowed. "Then kill me, if I have lost my home and all that is dear to me because of Greek pride then I have nothing left to live for."

His eyes grew sad as he stared down at the angry girl with a temper to match her red curls. "I am sorry."

The sincerity in his voice startled her and she stared up at him her anger dissipating. "Then why did you come here?"

Jace grimaced. "It is as you said, glory and honor. I wanted to be remembered for a thousand years as a great warrior."

"And are you?" She asked him quietly. "A great warrior that is?"

"If you mean by skill, then yes." He sighed and closed his eyes. "The warrior in me was mislead to attack your city because of a desire for war. I ignored the part of my heart that told me of the innocents in your city. A true great warrior fights with his heart, and I do not, so I have failed."

Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, his eyes opened slowly and stared down at her. "Then I have failed as well. I misjudged you in my anger Jace Herondale of Sparta."

He covered her hand with his own and shook his head. "No, you were right."

She gave him a small half smile and pulled her hand away from his face. "Then I must go." Clary smiled sadly and turned away, taking her basket fro, his hand. She took a few steps but he called out and stopped her.

"Wait." She turned and he jogged over to her. "Meet me here, tonight."

She bit her lip and hesitated. "I can't."

"Please." His eyes begged her and she had to force herself to look away from his handsome face.

She sighed and slowly nodded. "Alright."

His face broke out in a grin. He took one of her hands and brought it to his lips and kissed it. The corners of her mouth turned up as he let her go. "Goodbye."

"Tonight." He told her again and she nodded.

"Tonight."