Will More Strongly

Achilles stood on the hillside overlooking the sea. The warrior ventured there nightly waiting for some sign that would tell him what had become of his beloved Alexandros. He had returned to the young shepherd's home to surprise him only to find the small cottage in ruins and no one in the village had had no idea where he was. The boy and his family had simply disappeared one night, leaving no word as to where they were going. There was no way to even be certain that they had left willingly.

For over a week, Achilles had scoured the countryside, searching out any signs of his lover. He refused to accept the possibility that Alexandros could be dead. Achilles liked to believe that he would have known if Alexandros had been killed. That he would have felt it in some way. It was a foolish notion, but all that he had to cling to until he discovered otherwise.

"There is no ship coming," Patrolcus said quietly as he approached Achilles from behind. "You will only drive yourself to madness this way, cousin."

"He is still out there," Achilles insisted, the fingers of his left hand toying with a ring on his right middle finger. It was a very simple ring made of the wood from a laurel tree and sanded to a smooth surface by Alexandros himself.

His young cousin reached around to force a spear into his hand. "Come. You promised to teach me to fight like you."

Achilles instinctively gripped the wooden shaft of the weapon. "You are an accomplished fighter in your own right, Patrolcus. I have taught you all that I can."

"Then humour me, cousin," he wheedled. "It will be good for you as well. You could use the distraction."

Achilles was about to protest once again when Patrolcus went on the offensive, attacking him from the side. With no other option, Achilles blocked the thrust with ease, twirling around to face his cousin. "That is cheating."

"It would only be cheating were you not armed," Patrolcus pointed out as he jabbed this time at Achilles' head. "Since you are, that attack can hardly be considered cheating."

"Semantics, my dear cousin."

Patrolcus glared at him as he twisted the spear about, jabbing the blunt end at Achilles' middle before swinging it around to strike at his shoulders. A blow which Achilles easily ducked, spinning into a crouching position from which to knock Patrolcus' legs out from under him. As the younger man let out an oof of expelled air upon landing flat on his back, Achilles rose to his full height, grinning down at his cousin.

"Are we quite finished now, Patrolcus?" Achilles asked as he reached a hand down to assist the other man in rising.

"For now," Patrolcus grumbled, accepting the hand up. He righted himself and attempted to dust the dirt from his tunic all the while keeping his gaze locked on his cousin. "I will best you yet, cousin."

"And you claim the madness is mine," Achilles chuckled, his eyes already drifting back out to the sea.

Achilles stiffened suddenly, sensing someone approaching from behind. Whirling with a fluid motion, Achilles hurled the spear in his hand with great force. It sailed through the air, imbedding itself in a tree only inches from a grinning Odysseus.

"If I did not know better, I would believe that you bear me an ill will," Odysseus chuckled as he approached the two cousins who still stood a short distance away from the cliff's edge. "I come in peace, Achilles, with only a simple proposition."

"I think not," Achilles countered, his gaze wary as he watched Odysseus approach. The man had a great affinity for transforming half-truths into elaborate tales that one could not help but believe and Achilles had no desire to fall victim to Odysseus' wiles.

"Persuade him if you can to leave this hillside," Patrolcus said to the newcomer. "For he will not listen to me."

Odysseus approached still closer, nearly standing next to Achilles at this point. "You do not still grieve for that shepherd of yours, do you?"

The warrior's gaze darted quickly to that of his friend, suddenly much more uneasy about Odysseus' presence. "What do you know of it?"

"I know that you are quite taken with a young shepherd who lives on the other side of that sea," Odysseus said, nodding his head in the direction of the vast waters before them. The man then turned and stepped towards the nearby ruins, seating himself on a toppled pillar that acted as a bench. "I also know that no one has seen hide or hair of your shepherd for several months."

"What do you know of Alexandros?" Achilles growled, stalking towards the man he considered a friend on a good day under normal circumstances, a nuisance on a bad.

"The boy has a name," Odysseus mused, mostly to himself.

"Odysseus."

"I know not much more than idle rumour," he admitted at last. "The only advantage I have above any other is knowledge of his name. Menelaus did not even have that when he sent men out in search of your shepherd."

For the first time that he could remember, Achilles knew fear. Worried as he had been for Alexandros before, he now feared for his lover's life. He did not doubt that Menelaus would use Alexandros against him if given the opportunity and that terrified him because he knew that Menelaus was capable of great cruelty. Agamemnon was far worse.

"Your young shepherd is quite safe now," Odysseus was quick to assure him. "Menelaus has since been distracted by the abduction of his wife by young Prince Paris of Troy."

"Prince Paris of Sparta?" Achilles echoed, backing away from Odysseus so that he could retrieve his scattered weapons. "I thought old Priam only had one son."

"Something involving a prophecy or some such nonsense," Odysseus said absently, waving his hand as though to disperse the topic. "It is the actions of this young prince that I am here for. He has stolen Helen from Menelaus and now the aging king wants to go to war to reclaim his wife. Menelaus has gone to Agamemnon and the two have decided to call upon all the lords of Greece to wage a war against Troy."

Achilles let out a snort of mirthless laughter. "And great Agamemnon has sent you here to recruit me to fight his war."

Odysseus did not deny the accusation, not that Achilles had expected him to.

"I will not fight for him," Achilles ground out.

The words had not yet faded from the air when Patrolcus raised his voice in protest. "Why not, cousin? It will do you good to distract yourself from your troubles."

"War will not make me forget him," Achilles insisted, watching his young cousin as he came to stand at his side. "And my time would be much better put to use making sure Alexandros is safe."

"The men of Greece need you, my friend," Odysseus insisted. "Having the great Achilles lead them into battle would raise the moral of the entire army."

"Well Agamemnon will just have to do without me."

Before Odysseus could attempt to sway him with words, Achilles stalked away from the hillside. He would give his Myrmidons the choice to follow Agamemnon and the rest of the Greeks to Troy, but his destination was elsewhere. He was going to find Alexandros and hide him away somewhere safe before taking his vengeance against Menelaus for even daring to consider using his lover against him.

"At least consider it, Achilles!" Odysseus shouted after him.

The warrior shook his head, not stopping or turning around to otherwise acknowledge the call. The two men did not follow after him, allowing Achilles to leave the area without further fuss. Their pleas would not alter his decision. He was bound for Mount Ida, the last place he had seen Alexandros, and nothing would alter his course.

It was his intention to leave that very night. He would allow the tide to take him out to sea and to Alexandros.

His course was set in his mind, all that remained was informing his mother of his coming departure. More than anyone else, she knew of his grief regarding Alexandros' disappearance. She had heard his laments upon his return and knew just how deep his grief ran. When he could not find her in her home, Achilles made his way to the nearby cove where she often spent her days.

As he expected, there she was, wading in the shallow waters. It was a sight he had witnessed many times before and hoped to see many more times in the future.

"You will not find what you are looking for at Ida's foot," Thetis said as he approached her from behind.

Achilles halted in his tracks and stared at his mother's bent form as she stooped to pick something from beneath the water's surface. "Mother?"

"The shepherd is nowhere near Mount Ida," Thetis repeated, examining the small shell she held between her thumb and index finger.

"How can you be certain of that?" Achilles pressed, his mind suddenly active with all possible locations Alexandros could now be.

Thetis turned to face him at last, a gentle smile lighting her features. "Because it is in Troy that your destiny lies. Your name will be made great should you join Agamemnon's war. You will be remembered for thousands of years."

"And you are certain that Alexandros is at Troy?"

Stepping closer to him in the calf deep water, Thetis reached up to cradle her son's cheek in her palm. "Nothing is ever fully certain, my darling. What I do know is that your destiny is tied to that of your young shepherd. Whether for good or ill I do not know."

"Mother...." Achilles groaned, his mind at odds over the non-answer he was receiving. Finally, he heaved a great sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "It is likely that Odysseus will return later tonight to try and persuade me once again to join the other men bound for Troy. Tell him that I will return tomorrow evening with my answer."

"I know that you will make the right one," Thetis murmured as she framed Achilles face with her hands, drawing his head down to press a kiss to his forehead.

Achilles sighed deeply as he stepped away from his mother. He offered her a wan smile then turned to go, making his way towards the far bank of the cove. A small path extended from there, leading up to the rocky hills that surrounded his home. He had wandered those hills for much of his life and knew all of their nooks and crannies. If he so desired it, he could disappear for days on end, leaving no trace from which others could follow him. Had he not trusted Odysseus to leave him to his thoughts, Achilles would have done just that.

The sun was beginning to dip down below the horizon when Achilles finally stopped his wandering. He gathered up enough wood to build himself a small fire and waited for it to catch light before seeking to find a comfortable position for himself on the uneven ground. He immediately missed the much softer and rolling countryside where Alexandros had made his home and before long gave up trying to get comfortable, instead focusing his gaze on the flames.

In his mind, Achilles went over his mother's words, searching out the truth behind her riddles.

His destiny was tied to Alexandros. Regardless of anything else she had told him, that alone gave him hope that he would see his beloved once again. It was nearly enough to convince him to bow once more to Agamemnon's wand and go to Troy.

Nearly.

"You worry far too much," Alexandros murmured into the dip at the base of his throat. "This is a sacred place where no evil can touch us. That means you may relax your guard and simply take joy once again in life.... You do remember how to do that, Achilles?"

With lightning fast speed, Achilles rolled them so Alexandros was stretched out on his back below him. Alexandros merely laughed and draped his arms around Achilles' shoulders as the warrior settled between his spread thighs. Achilles allowed himself a slight smile as he settled himself with his elbows on either side of Alexandros' head.

"You are far too idealistic for your own good, my beloved," Achilles sighed, dipping his head down to nuzzle his nose against the side of the dark-haired man's face.

"Why is that? Because I believe that the gods mean us for better things than mere trysts twice in a year? Or is it because I dare to love a man that the world believes to be nothing more than a warrior full of rage? Why, Achilles?"

The passion in Alexandros' voshocshocked him. He knew that the young shepherd loved him for Achilles himself felt the same. It was a deep, all consuming passion that rivaled what he felt in the heat of battle.

Placing all of his weight on his right arm, Achilles lifted his left so that he was able to smooth his fingers through the rumpled curled locks. "You have not yet seen how harsh the world can be. Now twisted and evil."

"I do not need your sermon. It will not change what I feel."

"I do not expect it to," Achilles said softly, touching their foreheads together. "Think of it as more of a cautionary tale. Nothing more."

Alexandros' hands came up to frame his cheeks, his smile never wavering. "Believe that if you must, but I would much prefer to believe that the gods have something greater planned for us."

Achilles stabbed his fingers into his hair, shaking his head to banish the memory from his mind. That had been their last night together. The next morning Achilles had gone on to meet his men at the next village, leaving Alexandros behind in what he'd assumed was safety. Had he known what was to come, Achilles would have insisted that the shepherd come with him.

Before the sun had risen above the horizon, Achilles was already making his way back to his mother's home. No doubt Odysseus would be there, waiting impatiently for his answer. By now the older man had undoubtedly conscripted Patrolcus to the cause, his young cousin being far too eager to go to battle. Achilles could only blame himself for that. He was the one who had taught his cousin to fight, after all. Patrolcus had been even younger than Alexandros when Achilles had begun his lessons, making sure that his cousin knew all that he could to protect himself. Now it could very well prove to be his undoing for Patrolcus was bound and determined to join his Myrmidons, something Achilles would prevent if it were possible.

"Have you tormented me long enough?" Odysseus demanded as Achilles passed through the gate that led to his mother's house. "Or do you plan on meditating yet another day before you give me your answer."

"Haggling does not suit you, my friend. Best leave it to the fishmongers," Achilles smirked, idly scratching at the bridge of his nose as he waked right past the king of Ithaca.

"Achilles," he said sternly as he stalked after the warrior. "Your answer."

Thetis was standing in the doorway when Achilles reached it, a knowing smile on her face and a shell necklace in her hand. "My son is to go after his shepherd."