Will More Strongly

Will More Strongly


Epilogue


Alexandros sat on the grassy hillside, his left hand shielding his eyes from the sun overhead. All around him sheep grazed placidly, unconcerned by the hound wandering in their midst. Trojan was too busy snuffling at the grass to be much of a threat to the sheep. Alexandros stretched out on his back, closing his eyes against the late afternoon sun.

Grateful as he was to have his old life back, Alexandros knew that it wasn't worth the losses it had caused. His father and Hector both dead, his mother, Andromache, Briseis and Astyanax missing, and Achilles.... Alexandros lived daily with the grief that he had caused for so many. The city of Troy had been lost and with it so many good people had died for a cause that was not even their own. He had wanted Achilles safe and had destroyed a nation.

Something wet nudged against the side of his cheek and Alexandros blinked his eyes open, coming face to face with Trojan's grinning muzzle. The hound heaved a great sigh then flopped down onto the ground next to Alexandros, his head resting on the shepherd's arm.

"If you are not careful, your sheep will wander off."

Tilting his head back as far as he was able, Alexandros could not stop the grin that spread across his face at the sight of his beloved. His smile faltered somewhat when he caught sight of Achilles uneasy gait. Even a year after the fall of Troy Achilles still had trouble from the arrow Alexandros had inadvertently fired into his heel. The blonde never complained, but Alexandros knew that it still pained him a great deal.

"If you are not careful, you are going to go tumbling down the hill," Alexandros countered, forcing his grin back to its earlier proportions.

Achilles arched an eyebrow as he carefully lowered himself into a seated position next to Alexandros. The young shepherd held up a hand to steady him when he looked unsteady and ended up clutching at Achilles' hip until he was seated. Alexandros then wiggled still closer to his lover, lifting his head up onto Achilles' lap.

"This life suits you," Achilles murmured, running his fingers through Alexandros' hair.

"So I am insufferably dull and boring then?" the darker man countered, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

Achilles chuckled quietly. "Hardly. You are far too passionate to be considered insufferably dull and boring. I only meant that there is a calmness about you now that you did not have while in Troy."

As always, thoughts of Troy caused Alexandros' body to tense. A year had passed since Agamemnon's men had burned the great city to the ground, but still the memories of that night were fresh in Alexandros' mind. More than once he had stumbled down the rough stone steps as he'd supported Achilles towards the river. He had always managed to fall no further than to his knees so that he was able to continue supporting his lover. The banks of the river had been flooded with people attempting to flee the burning city and upon seeing their distress a few even helped them to reach the boats that waited on the banks. In the chaos they had been simply two more refugees seeking to escape the slaughter of Troy.

For many long miles Alexandros had stood at the rail watching as Troy was engulfed in flames. It had lit up the entire sky so that it almost looked as though the dawn had arrived in the middle of the night.

"You could not have prevented it," Achilles murmured, leaning over to brush his lips against Alexandros' forehead. "Agamemnon would have found some other excuse to wage war against Troy even if you had not stolen Helen. It was unavoidable."

"My father and brother are dead because of something that I did," Alexandros insisted, slipping away from Achilles so that he could sit upright. In the next moment, Alexandros was on his feet and stalking a few paces away. "I could not even fight Menelaus without Hector's assistance."

~*~*~

Achilles cursed once again that his ankle had not healed properly as he struggled to get to his feet in order to chase after his young lover. Alexandros had spent months apologizing for being the one to fire the arrow that had injured him even though Achilles did not blame him. Alexandros had not meant to harm him, that Achilles did not doubt for a moment.

"'Xandros!" Achilles shouted after his lover's retreating form as he climbed awkwardly to his feet. "'Xandros, come back!"

The brunette shook his head, his dark curls glinting in the sun.

Achilles limped after Alexandros, refusing to allow his beloved to blame himself for something that was not his doing. "Alexandros, slow down. I am not as adept at wandering these hills as you are. Please 'Xandros. You cannot continue to do this to yourself, beloved."

Alexandros slowed to a stop at the ledge of a rocky precipice, unable to go any further. The youth remained silent, allowing Achilles time to reach him and enfold him in his arms. Alexandros' entire body was trembling so Achilles held him all the tighter, pressing his lips against the wind-swept curls.

"I cannot help but feel guilty for all of our joys knowing all of the destruction I have caused," Alexandros admitted, leaning back against Achilles' chest.

"That guilt should not consume your life," Achilles murmured, hugging Alexandros still tighter. "You have suffered as well and deserve whatever joys you can find in life."

~*~*~

Achilles had never known such pleasure as being able to awaken each morning lying wrapped around his beloved. If it was possible he would spend his entire life lying pressed up against Alexandros' heated flesh. At times Achilles was convinced that Alexandros was heated within by a smoldering forge he was so warm.

"I will wager that if I were to open my eyes right this moment, I would find you staring at me," Alexandros murmured around a yawn. The younger man slowly blinked his eyes open, showing first only a sliver of his deep mahogany pupils before opening them entirely. "I see that I was correct."

A wide smile spreading across his features, Achilles leaned across the small distance that separated them and touched his lips to Alexandros'. Achilles was genuinely surprised when Alexandros rolled closer, ultimately straddling the larger man's hips. As he sat up, arching his back, Achilles drank in the glorious sight of the early morning sun bronzing Alexandros' skin. His beloved was truly beautiful. His curling hair, dark eyes, full lips and lithe frame never failed to arouse Achilles. It was not Alexandros' body alone that aroused, but the man himself. Alexandros' strength and loving nature were what had kept Achilles coming back after their first meeting.

"If this is the life of a shepherd I will gladly wake up to it every morning," Achilles sighed, reaching his hands up so that he could run his fingertips along the younger man's sides.

Alexandros chuckled quietly and leaned down to touch his lips to Achilles' chest. "I do believe that you have said nearly the same thing every morning, my love."

Achilles grinned broadly, arching his back as Alexandros' tongue licked a path along his collarbone. "It becomes more true each morning that I wake to find you plastered against my side."

The dark-haired man nipped lightly at his flesh. "I do not plaster myself against you, beloved. In fact, I believe that it is the other way around, my clinging love."

A moment later, Alexandros squeaked in a very undignified manner as Achilles quickly launched himself over so that he had the smaller man pinned beneath him. His face still flushed as a result of the embarrassing sound that had escaped his lips, Alexandros wound his arms around Achilles' shoulders and spread his legs to accommodate the blonde man's hips.

"Are you certain that you do not wish to revise your earlier comment?" Achilles murmured as he leaned over to nuzzle his lips against the crook of the smaller man's throat.

"I am merely making myself comfortable," Alexandros chuckled, squeezing his thighs momentarily against Achilles' hips. "You do, after all, have me pinned against the bed."

Lifting his head, Achilles smiled down at the smaller man, his fingertips sliding through the rumpled curls that rested on the pillow. He dropped his head so that he was able to brush his mouth against Alexandros', teasing his beloved's lips with the tip of his tongue. Alexandros arched his hips then and Achilles could not help but let out a groan at the friction against his groin.

"Why, you evil fiend," Achilles moaned, a shudder making its way through his frame as Alexandros' hardening shaft nudged his own. "It is a wonder I have any will to leave this bed at all."

Alexandros arched an eyebrow, staring up at the older man with an unabashed grin as he curled his hands behind his head. His eyes shot open wide as in one quick motion Achilles launched himself back onto his knees, drawing Alexandros' hips back to rest upon his lap. Alexandros was moaning continuously as Achilles stroked his hands along the insides of his thighs, his thumbs stroking the bit of flesh behind his balls with each inward motion. With each stroke Alexandros’ penis hardened more and more, curving towards his stomach. Achilles watched every movement Alexandros made, his gasps and mewls, the fluttering of his eyelids, his hands fisting into the sheets and his head lolling from side to side. It was a beautiful sight and very nearly distracted him. Alexandros was truly gorgeous when he was so lost in pleasure, his body trembling and on edge.

Taking pity on his beloved, Achilles leaned forward so that he was able to reach the small bedside table where a small pot of oil rested. While he was fumbling with the lid in order to get to the slick liquid within, he was positioned in such a way that Alexandros was able to wind himself around the blonde man, rubbing slightly in search of friction. Achilles chuckled deeply in the back of his throat and lifted his hips just enough in order to taunt his beloved. Alexandros mewled pitifully, his body arching and stretching. When Achilles slipped a few oiled fingers past the tight ring, Alexandros gasped his name, his hands clutching at the sides of the blonde's face, ravaging Achilles' lips with his own.

As always, joining with his beloved was an intense experience that consumed Achilles' entire body and soul. He could feel it in every part of his body, his whole awareness narrowed on Alexandros whose wide mahogany eyes were staring up at him with an almost frightening intensity. In those long, languid moments, nothing existed for him beyond his beloved Alexandros. Achilles would have remained in such a state for the rest of his life and even beyond if he could have arranged it with the gods. Since he could not, Achilles cherished every moment that he was able to spend with Alexandros now that they were both freed from the obligations of their earlier lives.

~*~*~

Moaning and gasping, Alexandros held Achilles to him as they both struggled to catch their breaths in the wake of their almost simultaneous orgasms. He touched a kiss to his lover's damp shoulder while Achilles' lips were moving silently against his throat, murmuring endearments that Alexandros was not meant to hear. Alexandros did not begrudge his beloved these silent moments for he himself was guilty of many identical moments. Each moment that he was caught unawares by Achilles, Alexandros would thank the gods for granting him each new day with the man.

After the night the Greeks had invaded the city, the two men had hidden themselves away in the countryside near to where Alexandros himself had grown up while Achilles recovered from his arrow wound enough so that he could endure a long journey over land. Knowing that Agamemnon and his armies would sail southwest to his lands in Mycenae, the lovers had taken up a roundabout route to lands northwest of Greece. It was close enough so that they would be able to keep track of the greater events in Greece and the surrounding world in order to keep themselves safe.

"I do not think that I have the energy to rise from bed," Achilles mumbled against the underside of his jaw. "You may be forced to endure me lying upon you the next few hours if not the entire day."

Alexandros snorted in amusement, sliding the fingers of his right hand through Achilles' long hair in order to massage the base of his skull. "What has become of this impressive stamina you always claimed to possess?"

"You consume me completely and sap all of my energy," Achilles countered with a chuckle, rubbing his cheek against Alexandros' chest before lifting his head and resting his chin upon the brunette's chest so that their eyes met.

Rolling his eyes, Alexandros lifted a hand to smooth the longer strands of Achilles' hair from his eyes. Achilles' tanned skin and golden hair seemed to glow as the early morning sunlight lit upon his sweat damp form. He smiled softly then and Alexandros was struck once again by the beauty of a man who had been feared throughout the Aegean. The man that he loved desperately and had risked his entire world for. Achilles was hardly the bloodthirsty warrior legend had made him and Achilles assured him daily that he was not the vain seducer that he had been cast as in tales of the fall of Troy. Storytellers, Achilles claimed, cared nothing for the truth, only what would increase their audience. Before long there were many version of the tale circulating and in none of them did the paths of Achilles and Prince Paris cross. Patroclus had become cast as Achilles' beloved and Prince Paris as the killer of Greece's mightiest hero.

In the hills not far from where Alexander the Great would play as a child centuries later, Achilles and Alexandros lived contrary to the legends that grew up around them.

The End