Beyond Trojan Walls

Hector strode purposely to Claudia’s door, having been to his son’s room and found it empty of the infant and the wet nurse. Not wishing to awaken his sister before having solitary moments with his son, he eased the door open and stealthily moved into the room. Not more than two feet from the cradle that was situated near the large bed, the covers were thrown back as the obviously male occupant grasped the nearby sword, assuming a warrior’s stance.

“HOLD,” the fair man snapped, having been awakened from a sound sleep.

Hector whirled in surprise, his own stance one of aggressive defense. His eyes narrowed as recognition set in. “Achilles …” He breathed angrily.

Claudia slowly lifted her head from her pillow, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "Brother, you came to bid your son good night?" She questioned a full open smile upon her lips. "Achilles, come back to bed," she whispered, a sensual urging to her voice.

With a wary look upon his face, Achilles slowly lowered his sword, acutely aware of his complete nudity in a way he had never been before. His muscles eased slightly, the danger of the situation having been mistaken, and he slowly backed to the far side of the bed, his eyes never once leaving the angry glare of Hector’s.

Hector, in turn, kept his gaze fixated on the nude man … his mortal enemy … beside his sister’s bed, his eyes moving to Claudia’s, desperate for understanding.

She sighed in hurt, hurt that Hector could be so angry when she was so completely happy. "Achilles, I know I should not ask this of you. I should not even think to ask you, but I would have peace in this house, peace in the mind and heart. Please, speak to him now," she whispered into her lover's ear.

Achilles kept his eyes on Hector’s, knowing instinctively the time was not right, but not able to refuse Claudia anything. “Hector of Troy,” he said with military authority, “your sister’s heart is mine as mine is hers. I seek the permission of your household to take her as wife.”

The man’s head visibly shook as if to clear his brain … his sister … married to the enemy? Stepping forward, Hector looked deeply into Claudia’s eyes, a certain amount of pain and disappointment in his own gaze as he realized she was not speaking to him directly. He returned his gaze toward Achilles, shoulders squared as a million different scenarios ran through his brain. “King Priam will be the one to agree … however, if it makes my sister happy, I will do what I can to see it done.”

"It makes me more than simply happy, Hector. I could think of joining my life to no other. Achilles is a good and honorable man. As he has spoken, he has my heart as I have his. This war will last not beyond the morrow, brother, and I would ask you to go with Achilles to speak to father on my behalf. Bear witness to my feelings for this man and if father thinks to deny my hand, tell him that I have given my innocence willingly," she asserted, determined to be Achilles at any cost.

The babe stirred then, a sharp cry of hunger coming from his well-developed lungs as the adults stood silently appraising one another. Moving to the cradle, hector bent and scooped the child into his arms, searching for the nurse while trying desperately to calm the infant as he spoke to Claudia. “Father will have his head should he find you have been abed with this man.” He again looked at Achilles, who sat beside Claudia, his hands clamped tightly on her slim shoulders. “I have never denied you anything, sister … and this shall be no different. I shall see it done.”

An easy smiled touched her lips at her brother's words as she lifted her arms for him to place the babe in. "Be happy for me, Hector. I will be a wife and a mother. There will be lasting peace between Troy and Sparta."

Looking into the face of his bawling son, he kissed the furrowed forehead and placed the child in his sister’s embrace. “I will be happy when my sister sees her brother and welcomes him with a kiss, as she usually does.” His eyes lit slightly with a teasing that was their way. “And as for you, Achilles … if you are to be my brother … be away by morning so as not to cause any undue strife in the mind of my father before we can agree upon a joining.”

The muscle in Achilles’ jaw twitched, but he nodded and extended his arm in friendship. “It will be done.”

Pulling the sheet tight against her heavy bosom, she leaned up and kissed Hector upon his cheek as he placed the wailing baby in her arms. "Think you that you can take another brother, Hector?" She teased, rocking the baby lightly in her embrace.

Watching the baby squirm, he hid the smile that threatened to break across his face. “I can barely take the siblings I have at present. Now have my child fed so that I may take him to bed.” He leaned in, kissing the infant’s forehead before looking from Achilles to Claudia, a look of melancholy resting in his gaze as he thought of months he had been since he had enjoyed the pleasures of a woman. “Rest well, sister,” he said softly.

She sought to shock her brother then and smile mischievously. "Brother, think you that I will be resting at all this night?" She cut her gaze suggestively to Achilles and laughed lightly.

Hector chuckled slightly as he touched his son’s head and moved slowly from the bed. “Then I will simply say, goodnight.” He turned his head toward Achilles, nodded respectfully, and moved toward the door.

As the door closed behind the Trojan warrior, Achilles moved closer to Claudia, his chin touching her shoulder gently as he watched her interact with the child. “Your brother is in need,” he said softly, a smile on his lips as he reached over giving his finger again to the boy.

"Yes. I see it too, my love. What to do about such things? He will not take any of the women that would willingly lie with him in the household. He refuses each and every touch." She shrugged, her smile fading a bit at the thought of her brother's needless restraint.

Achilles’ brows furrowed, unable to comprehend such. “Refuses? Women offer themselves to him and he refuses?” He moved to lie on his side, his elbow supporting his torso as he nestled himself close to her leg, his large hand rubbing the belly of the babe. “Why do you think he would do such a thing? Does his mind no longer fascinate upon women?”

"He misses his wife, Achilles. He still mourns her." She looked to him, tears springing to her eyes. "She died shedding a babe that was not meant to be from her body. I feel that he blames himself for her death."

Achilles’ eyes moved from hers, to the child in her arms, and back again, his hand rising to dry the tears that had spilt onto her cheeks. “Until he releases his mind from mourning, he will not be able to be happy. That is nothing anyone can help him with.” He sighed slightly, feeling empathy for the man who was to be his brother. “T’is a shame. He is not difficult to look upon. I’m certain he has missed several moments of happiness.”

"I am certain of it," she replied as she reached out to caress his cheek. Lingering for a moment, she then slid from the sheets and went to the door of the anti-chamber and called for Melior through the door.

In the span of a moment, the nurse maid appeared, wrapping the thin dressing gown around herself as she entered the room. “Ah, my lady, he hungers?” She moved forward, reaching her arms out to take the child from the noble woman.

"Yes. His father wishes him fed and then taken to his bed," she explained, eager to return to her own bed and the man there.

Melior smiled tenderly as she pulled the child to her full, milk-heavy breast, pulling the gown away as she turned her back to the bed. “It shall be done, my lady.” Looking over he shoulder, she gave a contented, serene look to the lovers. “Good evening to you. And sir,” she said, directing her words to Achilles. “May the gods be with you and your men as you fight for peace amongst our lands.” Turning, she cooed with the infant as she left the room to the two.

Stretched out on the bed, his golden tresses fanning the pillow, Achilles smiled. “It seems the important people of your household approve, my little one.”

"They see in you nothing less than I. You are a good man, Achilles," she whispered as she eased back into the bed beside him, laying her head on his shoulder and throwing her arm across his thick chest.

His fingers moved gently across the smoothness of her back, a smile in his voice as well as on his face. “Allow me, then, to show you just how good I can be.” And with that, he began the long, dedicated task of loving her so thoroughly that nothing would ever be able to tear him from her mind or heart.


Paris fumed as he paced his brother's chamber waiting for his return, his temper hitting a boiling point over the treatment of the woman he'd chosen to love. His sister had stepped too surely from her place this time, threatening Helen. He would force Hector to punish her for her wayward tongue and all would be well in the household again.

As if willing the moment to come, footfalls were heard nearing the chambers and the door was slowly opened, Hector yawning, finally relaxing after his emotional journey of a little while earlier. Seeing his brother before him, he shook his head and walked past the youthful man as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Paris … another day, perhaps?”

"No, brother! This can not wait for another day! I demand you restore order in this household! I demand you do it this night!" Paris spat the words at Hector's back, his slight frame gone rigid with his fury.

The older brother stopped, then, his body going still before slowly, methodically turned his body to face the younger sibling, his eyes narrowing as he processed the rash statement. “You DEMAND?” He moved threatening toward the slight frame that was Paris, his patience grown dangerously thin as he towered over the man. “And who are you, second son, to make demands upon me this evening, or any other?”

"I am your brother, Hector. I am a member of his household. As you said, I am also second son, to rule if ever you cannot." He reined in his tongue only slightly, his anger still running fast and hot through his veins. "She has been given too much, brother. Our sister no longer knows her place among us. She has threatened Helen this eve."

Hector’s brow rose high. “Not know her place, little brother? It seems to me that her place is by our side, being sibling to us and having our blood run through her veins.” He leaned his head in for emphasis. “True TROJAN blood.” He gave a look of dismissal and turned his back on his brother, struggling to remove the armor that still encased his body. “Now, tell me of this threat that our Claudia administered toward you Helen.”

"Your son is in the middle of their battle, brother. Did you know such? Do you care that your son is being kept from all others but you and our...our sister. And dare I remind you, Hector, her blood is not fully Trojan?" His anger was dimming but his vindictive nature was soaring to the forefront of their argument. He would have his say, no matter how venomous.

Hector’s eyes glinted with growing anger as he threw his breastplate to the floor. “And may I remind YOU, brother, that no Trojan blood whatever runs through Helen’s?” He almost growled with the need to scream. “And as for my son … Paris, Claudia is caretaker of my child and I trust her implicitly. Your woman needs to respect the rules set forth by his maternal custodian if she wishes to be a part of his life at all.”

"In his life at all? She only wishes to help care for him until she births a child of her own, Hector. You would deny her that because of Claudia's jealousy?" He turned and paced his brother's chamber, his fists clenched at his sides as his mind tried to figure out just how best to try and manipulate this situation and his brother. "Claudia threatened that if Helen came to me with her complaints, to speak to you on her behalf, that she would keep her from your son always. Will you not even allow Helen the chance to love your son?"

Rolling his eyes, Hector sighed and ran a long-fingered hand through his hair. “Paris, of course Helen will be allowed access to him. But she must realize that Claudia, for all intents and purposes, is the child’s mother … that is, until such time as I ever marry again.”

Paris' eyes blazed as he turned back to Hector, his temper hitting a fine pitch as he saw his desire to have his sister punished slipping away. "If you will not speak to her then it is left to me. I WILL NOT be gentle brother."

The older grasped the upper arm of the younger, his grip tight and secure. “Paris, I will speak to Claudia … but, in turn … I shall also speak to Helen. And, between the two, I will condemn or condone as I see fit.”

"You will not, brother!" He played out his plan and cared not what it cost his brother or him. He would have his way. "I will speak with father of the discord in this house. I will also speak to him of my thoughts that you are unable to set aside your feelings for Claudia so that you may be just and fair."

Moving to his bed, Hector’s eyes blazed in fury. “Do as you will, Paris,” he said harshly. “But know this … Claudia can wrap father around her little finger in the blink of an eye. Do you really wish to say anything against her, lest you raise his anger?” He slowly lowered himself to the bed and continued his glare. “There is friction between our sister and the woman you have brought here … that much is certain. If I am to speak to one of this hostility, then I WILL speak to both!” He lay back on the pillows, his eyes closing out the problem that had taken the form of his brother. “The choice is yours.”

All the steam left Paris in that instant, with those few words from his brother. He was right; their father's fury would rain upon him if he dared to speak out against Claudia. "Very well, speak to the both of them. My words are for naught in this household," he complained bitterly as he turned to leave the room.

Hector sighed as his brother left the room. Tired, he was, of Paris’ selfishly childish ways and only the fact that the same blood flood through their veins kept him from raising fists to the younger man. He sighed again as he realized that day would not be put off forever.


Helen sat, staring at the reflection of the lovely woman that looked back at her, her fingers gently gliding the comb through the curly waves of her fair locks. Her body thrummed with excitement as she heard the light footsteps of Paris as he entered the room. Turning to greet him, she affected the perfect look of nervous anxiety upon her features as she quickly crossed to him, her hands pressing to the slim, firm chest in apparent desperation. “Well? Did you speak with him? Did Hector agree, my love?”

"He agreed only to speak with the both of you. He will side with Claudia, make no mistake about that, my love," he whispered against her neck as he dropped his lips to the warm silken skin there. He pulled her scent deeply into his lungs and moaned with the pleasure of it. He would work out his frustration in the only way left to him, love making. Reaching up, he ripped the delicate fabric at her shoulder.

Closing her eyes in irritation, she allowed his touch, mimicking it with her own as she let her hands run along the contours of his slim back. It amazed her, then, just how easy it was to imagine Paris’ touch to be that of his brother’s. “Then we must do what we can to show him the shrewish entity that Claudia can be,” she said in velvety tones, thrusting her breasts toward his touch to placate his lust so as to keep him in her encampment.

"Yes," came his curt reply, his hand disrobing her quickly, caressing her curves roughly. Paris was as a greedy child, handling his play thing without care, seeking simply his own satisfaction.

Surreptitiously rolling her eyes heavenward, she allowed her hands to roam his body as she feigned passion at the touch of his fingers. “We must be together on this, Paris,” she mewled as her hand moved to untie the royal blue linen covering his waist, her fingers moving to caress his jutting manhood. “WE must be united when we speak to your father … we must speak to him before they do.” She let his tongue swirl the curves of his ear.

His touch stopped instantly, frozen in place as he leaned slowly away from her. He was a master as manipulation and he recognized it easily when it was plied against him. "We will not speak to my father, my dear Helen, lest he lose favor for me and be angered by you and send you to the beach to return with the Greeks to Sparta."

Helen sighed inwardly, never once letting her disappointment show outwardly as she stared, wide eyed, into his gaze. “Dearest Paris … of course it will be done as you say!” She eased toward him again, her hands gently running along his chest and abdomen. “Between the two of us, you, alone, know the way to handle this situation.” She eased on her toes and kissed his neck gently. “Don’t be angry, dearest.”

He then grabbed her by the upper arms and held her at arms length, pinning her with a warning glare. "Never think to sway me in any way with your body or attention. I will not stand for it, Helen." He eased his hold and allowed her to come back to him, eager to have her ease his sexual hunger.

Her own face went into a well orchestrated pout as she continued allowing him to move her body closer, her hand moving slower, but with great eroticism. “This is not the Paris that swayed me to join him as his mate in Troy.” She rested her head gently against his slim chest. “I only want us to stay together always, Paris.”

"I am the same, Helen, no different than when we met in Sparta. Here, in my home, I must tread carefully. Hector is a powerful enemy, brother or no." He allowed his head to fall back on his shoulders as her touch lit a fire in his belly that would not be quenched until the early hours of the morning and many, many forays into her body.

Just the name of his brother was enough to spar her body into the heated passion that she so knew Paris could not resist. Letting her tongue trail along the curves of his neck, Helen walked him to the bed, pushing him none-too-gently and straddling his youthful body. “Then we shall remain united until we are both in our proper place in this household.” And with that, she began her ministrations of his body, all the while seeing Hector’s face behind her eyes.

"Speak to me, Helen," he demanded as his body twitched and jerked, over eager for her well lubricated junction. "What is in your mind this moment?"

A well learned moan trilled from her throat as she grasped his manhood and guided it home, easing her body onto his with knowledge and expertise. “You, my love. My mind is fixed only on the ravaging of our bodies by one another.”

"Speak words to me that no high born woman would dare," he urged, arching up into her with a moan born of lustful mania poised upon his lips.

Her lips twisted beyond his view, as her legs pressed tightly against his hips while she writhed above him, raising and lowering her body in the age-old sexual rhythm. “What words can compare to the feel of your heated, thrusting organ impaling my wet, heated core?” She leaned forward and allowed her mouth to near his ear as she continued pumping her body onto his. “The harder you grow, my lord, the wetter I become. The more forceful you take me, the harsher I desire it from you.”

"UGH!" With that he flipped her onto her back and shoved himself into her mercilessly, her words heating his blood to a thick, raging boil. He was mindless with his overwrought, lustful prowess. He could not control or gain a measure of control over his thrusts and quickly spilt himself into her without seeing to her pleasure.

Closing her eyes in exasperation and angry frustration, Helen pulled from every particle deep inside her and threw her head back, manufacturing the affectation of the most intense climax imaginable. Body tense and neck straining, she waited until she felt the last of his fluid trickling into her body and then, panting, dropped her head deep into the pillow, her tongue moving out to lip her full, bottom lip seductively. “Oh, Paris,” she purred. “I am weak with sated fulfillment.”

Paris was not new to the feel of carnal completion, even within a female. He knew Helen had not been met with the peak of her sexual efforts. She had lied to him, if not in word then in deed. He lay there questioning why. "Do you love me, Helen? Truly love me?"

Nestling beside him, she sighed in mock contentment. “Of course I do, Paris. Why else would I be here with you if not for love?”

He asked himself the same questions and could come up with no answer. He still wasn't convinced though, and felt his heart slowly retreating from the woman at his side. "I love you, Helen."

“And I love you, my prince,” she said almost by rote. Throwing a leg over his thighs, she seductively pressed her lithe body nearer to his. “And together we will be invincible.”

He pressed his eyes tightly closed wishing that he hadn't heard her words at all, because now he knew. It was power she sought. Again, he questioned why. Had not she been married to a man that was king, making her queen in turn. "Helen, did you enjoy being a queen? Did it suit you?"

She shrugged slightly, her fingers toying with the surface of his chest. “A crown suits anyone who chooses to wear it, Paris. Yes, I enjoyed it. But, I am with you now, and I enjoy just as much being princess.”

A lie. It was all too clear with each new word she spoke. Paris grew sick with the knowing of what he had done for this woman, what he had sacrificed. "You are not a princess, Helen. I have not taken vows with you."

“Yet. You haven’t take vows yet, my love.” She allowed her knee to press between his legs and kissed him voraciously. “After this war, that will be reconciled.”

He knew then and there that it would not be reconciled. He would never be able to bring himself to take vows with this woman, but in turn, he could neither cast her aside publicly. "We shall see."

She lifted her head then, her long, blonde hair cascading across his chest as her eyes sought his. “We shall see?” She rose even higher, allowing the sheet the fall. “What does that mean?”

"It means nothing more than the words I spoke, Helen. If you do not like then sail back to Sparta with your husband, even now he waits for you upon the beach. Be a queen if you must but I will tell you this. In this house you will never wield the power of influence that Claudia does." His words were from the heart, even though his jealousy of his sister often clouded his judgment and words he loved her. He would never allow this woman to hurt her.


Inching down the corridor, Helen glanced across her shoulder nervously. She had left Paris sleeping soundly but she wasn't sure exactly how long that would last. After her infuriating night with him she wasn't about to bide her time and wait for the perfect moment to present herself any longer. Tonight was the night and she was going to claim what was hers.

Inside the chamber at the far end of the hallway, Hector slept as soundly as the babe in the sturdy cradle nearby. Nestled on his side, his arm under his head, one leg straight while the other curved underneath the first, his long, muscular nude form enjoyed the comfort of the deep, soft bed on the eve before battle. His dreams did not entertain the strategies and computations of battle as was usually the case before he fought. Instead, he dreamed of a time when his sister and her Greek lover could dine at the family table … peace reigning supreme among both their lands.

Helen eased into the chamber and stood watching him sleep for several long seconds. Her breathing came in sudden soft hitches as her eyes flowed over his powerful male body. Not even the battle scares could detract from his beauty.

In a sudden moment, he turned over in his sleep presenting his back to her, the sheet that covered his waist moving with him and exposing the rounded curve of his well-formed buttocks. He sighed contentedly in his sleep as his son also slumbered soundly.

She could take no more of simply staring at him … she had to have him. Slowly she slid into the bed beside him, careful not to overly disturb the soft mattress. She molded her naked form against his, her breasts caressing his back with each breath they took. Her hand dipped below the sheet and she kneaded the flesh of his hip.

A soft moan came to his sleep-filled throat as he began to visit that beautiful world between dream and wakefulness. In the midst of his slumber, Hector stretched both legs long on the bed, his hand subconsciously moving to stroke the organ that waking before his mind could. “Andromache,” he whispered softly, erroneously believing his wife to have returned from the dead.

"Hector," Helen whispered near his ear, lapping gently at the lob. She was content to allow him to think she was his wife as long as the result would be him making love to her. Her hand traveled lower and her small nailed grazed the sacs below his manhood, teasing him into full erection.

“Oh, Andromache,” he whispered, his breath panting and full of desire. “My love, it has been so very long.” He turned then, his hardened body creating a need in him that had, until this moment, been seen to only by his own hand. Eyes still closed and mind still trying to pull itself from that lovely dreamland, he moved to kiss his wife … hard and with all the passion he had pent up for so all these months.

Helen's arm slipped around his neck guiding him to her lips knowing it was in that moment that she must make him so dazed with desire that he would never see her, only his beloved wife. "Hector, I ache for you," she moaned as she slid her thigh across his and rocked her dripping sex against his twitching shaft.

One hand moved to grasp the flesh of her posterior as his other hand moved between them to expertly slip between the slick feminine lips to claim the bud of desire he knew so well. And then he felt it … something was wrong … it was in the kiss. His hand kept its mission, yet his body began to tense slightly at the knowledge that something was amiss.

She knew instantly that she was about to be found out and grasped his wrist gently, easing her mound over the tip of his straining weeping flesh. "Please, Hector, take me," she softly begged as she continued to kiss and suckle at his lips.

Ready to just that, he slowly opened his eyes. Every portion of sluggish sleep left him as he immediately pushed himself from her, his body aching as he moved from the rage of his erection. “Helen?” Shaking his head, he focused his eyes and instantly, his body went soft. Running his eyes once over her admittedly lovely naked form, he averted his eyes and, moving with the speed of an accomplished warrior, he flew to the other side of the bed and grasped his dressing gown, throwing it over his own nude body. “What in the name of all that we hold sacred are you doing here?” His neck strained with the need to stay quiet so as not to disturb the sleeping infant.

"Worry not, Hector, Paris is sleeping soundly. He will not know if you take me here and now." She smiled seductively, parting her thighs and stretching her drenched lips apart revealing the glistening pink folds of her sex.

His manhood rose again of its own volition and Hector gritted his teeth. Hate raged inside him. Hatred for this woman for what she was doing to his brother … and hatred for himself for his body’s betrayal. “If Paris is abed, then that is where you should be, Helen. In bed with my brother!”

"I like your bed more, Hector." Her words were as a sigh, so soft upon the breeze were they. She could not resist her own impulses and drew her finger down into the wet folds, sinking the delicate digit deep into her aroused channel.

That was almost his undoing. A growl escaped his throat as he quickly moved across the room and grasped her wrist, stilling her movements. “The lover of my brother does not belong in my bed,” he spat with a hiss. “I want you gone!”

Her free hand then slid between the separation in his dressing gown and grasped his long, jutting phallus. "Your body says something different to me, Hector. Take me for this one night and I will not ask it of you again. Paris leaves me aching with nothing to fulfill me."

His hands moved to her shoulders, pushing her violently from him as he moved quickly to the door. Pulling his dressing down closed to her view, his face took on the look of a warrior. “I would not take you for the world, Helen. You are my brother’s woman … and though my body betrays me at the sight of an obvious beauty … what you are doing here sickens me to my foundation.” He placed his hand on the door and leveled his eyes on her. “Go back to Paris and pray my father does not hear of this. Now leave me and my son.” He shook his head. “And for decency’s sake, cover yourself, woman.”

"I think not, Hector. If you wish me back to Paris' bed then you will have to escort me there yourself," she challenged, her nimble fingers going back to manipulating her drenched feminine lips. "You are in need, Hector..." She glanced pointed to where the tip of his generous phallus pushed his dressing gown away from his body. "There is no shame in taking pleasure where it is offered. It does not have to be love, Hector, for me to offer a sheath to your long neglected sword."

As angry as he was, his eyes could not leave the sight of her busy fingers for more than a few seconds at a time as his hardened organ began to rise even more, practically bobbing against his stomach. He turned his head away trying to block out the erotic sight. “My ‘sword’ is not your concern and your ‘sheath’ belongs to my brother.” He took in a deep, cleansing breath as his need heightened. “But, perhaps I shall not escort you to my brother after all.”

"You will not?" She tilted her blonde head, resting it on her shoulder. Her fingers moved from caressing the swollen outer lips of her sex to plunge fully within her aching body, here eyes rolling slightly at the pleasure of it all.

“No,” he said opening his eyes to her, only to squeeze them shut again at the sight of her sexual pleasure. “Instead, I will go to my father’s chamber and have him fetch you from my bed.”

"Then do it now," she told him, caring not for anything but the heady pleasure of touching herself upon his bed, enticing him to join her.

Anger again raged inside him as he closed the gap between them, his hand again grasping her wrist and pulling her fingers from her woman’s channel. “Woman, did you even bother to wash yourself after lying with my brother before coming here?” With a harsh, angry push, he shoved her from t he bed sending her sprawling onto the floor, his eyes alight with the grandest of fires.

She purred heatedly. "Aw, I see I am met with the warrior Hector. Taste me and see that I have washed myself for you." She slithered from the floor, not giving up her pursuit of the man before her.

Hector almost fell over himself as he jumped backwards to remove himself from her touch, not believing his harsh treatment of her still kept her heated. He knew he needed to find privacy … a place alone to rid his body of this aching need. “Your taste is something I shall never want to know. You will not have me, Helen!”

"I will, Hector, or go to my death trying. The choice is yours," she swore, her hand sneaking past his defense to caress the point of his gown she knew to be his erect shaft.

Swatting her hand away with more intensity than he needed to, he swore violently as he again moved away from her, subconsciously trying to press his manhood to a flattened state again without success. “Touch me again and I will ruin what little reputation you have left! I WILL fetch both my father and Paris and reveal you for the whore you are.”

"Then do it now, Hector, and make your threats no more," she whispered, her lips pursed into a sweet ripe bow. "Or you could allow me to sooth you. I swear I will speak of it to no one. I will forgo my own pleasure to see to you. I will see to you with only my hands, Hector, so that you can swear you have never entered my body.”

Hector took a long, deep breath and gazed intently into her eyes before saying a single word. “Never.” Turning, he opened the door so hard that the handle banged gracelessly against the door behind. “Melior!” he shouted. “Come … hurry! I have need of you!”

Helen moved to the bed, her back to it and grasped the braided cord that kept the insect netting in place. She wound it carefully yet quickly around her wrists, twisting the delicate flesh so there would be a burn there. "Do not do this, Hector. I will not be denied so quickly by you," she swore as she squeezed fat tears from her beautiful eyes. She slid to the floor, appearing to be bound to the bed, as Melior rushed into the room.

"Yes? What need is it you have of me, my lord?" Melior's gaze locked on Hector's trouble face.

Hector watched Helen’s eyes carefully, hatred seething within him as he spoke to the nurse. “Take my son to your antechamber, Melior. I do not wish him to be alone while I seek my father’s council.” He glared at the woman pretending upon his bed. “You will lose everything, Helen. I will see to it.”

"Your nurse is my witness, Hector. I am the one bound on your bed … bruised by your mistreatment. You steal into your brother's chambers and drag me here, demanding that I give solace to your body. I, too, wish to speak to the king. I will plead my case to the great king, Priam. I am wronged!" she wailed, tears leaking down her cheeks and dropping heavily onto her heaving breasts.

Shaking his head in disgust, Hector turned his back to the woman, only to see the minute amount of mistrust in the eyes of his most trusted servant. Could this woman who knew him so well truly believe this of him? It hurt … and made him begin to wonder at his own trust for the servant. “Take him now,” he said, trying to keep the pain from his voice as he swept from the room.

"Hector." Melior addressed the man across from her far too commonly, but she felt she must. "Do not go to your father with this."

Stopping, angered into stillness, he turned and looked at the woman fully. “No? Tell me why I should not?” He knew she believed the harlot in his bed … knew that she would listen to a veritable stranger over someone in whose household she had lived for years. He knew this, and it hurt.

"Hector, my husband always said you were more man than ten. He was right in this. Look past your anger and outrage, my lord, look at her." She turned her troubled gaze back to Helen then, the blonde withering, weeping form. "You need not reveal her to your father and cause discord among your family. She will destroy herself, Hector. Women as she always do."

He looked into the eyes of the nurse and gauged the sincerity there. “Your husband was one of the finest men I’ve known, Melior,” he said with only the slightest bit of curtness to his voice. “What would he say of his brother’s woman slipping into his bed in the middle of the night with your son only feet away … seducing … titillating?” He turned to Helen then, nodding to Melior to follow his gaze. “You look at her, dear lady.” He looked ashamed then as his voice lowered in a desperate whisper for this woman’s ears alone. “Look at what she has done to me against my will.”

Melior's delicately arched brows rose sharply above her eyes as she glanced to the evidence of his lust. A gentle and understanding smile lifted the corners of his lips. "She has reminded you there is life in you beyond that of a warrior. That a man of desire still lives in the body." She drew in a deep and almost wistful sigh. "Go and cool you blood, my lord, and I will see to your son and this woman. I will see to her even if I must give her a potion and drag her to her chambers myself."

His eyes turned almost misty then, a need in them that had nothing to do with the desire of his flesh. With a curt nod, he turned and stormed from the room, hating himself for what he was about to do, but needing the counsel of his sister then. With determined steps, he moved toward her chambers at the other side of the dwelling.


Watching Claudia sleeping was such a pleasing experience, that Achilles felt an unfamiliar ache in the area he knew his small heart to be. He ran his hand softly down the soft, smooth skin of her naked side as she lay with her back presented to him and reveled in its softness. He could not resist the temptation to lower his mouth to the enticing nape of her neck, kissing gently before allowing his tongue to slide out and trace warm, wet lines of desire along her tender skin as his hand moved to run along the curve of her hip.

Slowly Claudia reached to him and turned, her body warming quickly to his sensual touch. "I pray I never gain another moment’s sleep in your bed, my love," she whispered, her heavy breast rising and falling quickly with her building need.

Tracing her lips with his tongue, he pressed his hardening body to hers, his knee easily opening her thighs to accommodate his hips. “That is not realistic, little one … as I intend to keep you in bed for the majority of our lived together.” Slowly, with the need to satisfy, Achilles rose above her body, his hands preparing her moistening center for his impending entrance. “How much do you love me, Claudia?”

Tracing her lips with his tongue, he pressed his hardening body to hers, his knee easily opening her thighs to accommodate his hips. “That is not realistic, little one … as I intend to keep you in bed for the majority of our lived together.” Slowly, with the need to satisfy, Achilles rose above her body, his hands preparing her moistening center for his impending entrance. “How much do you love me, Claudia?”

"My love for you, Achilles, is more than all beneath the heavens," she whispered, in a low heartfelt voice, her hips rising slightly to meet his touch. "My love for you is more than this body," she laid her hand against his chest." And this," She lay her other hand against her own chest. "My love is more than this life, Achilles, it is for all times and beyond."

“And my love for you,” he said as his body slowly joined with hers, “is higher than Mount Olympus itself … more intense than anything Aphrodite could create.” He began then the now familiar, yet breathtakingly exciting rhythm that they had created together to be marked as distinctly their own, his body plunging needful into hers as hers pulled him fully inside the warmth and safety of hers. Over and over this continued … both trying desperately to make it last as long as possible.

She could hear herself then as if from far away, moaning and gasping out her pleasure, each of his plunging strokes rocking her to the core. She arched under his loving assault upon her body, her nails digging into the taunt flesh of his back, creating small furrows. "Achilles, nothing will ever part us. Nothing. I would forsake all just to remain forever in your arms."

Achilles raised his body further into the air, his hips harshly pounding into her most feminine core making both lovers oblivious to the sound of the opening door.

“Claudia…” Hector began before seeing the two on the bed, the warrior burying his body deep into his sister. With a groan, his entire being went taut with shock ands surprise as his own body hardened even further at the erotic interaction between his sister and the man who, for all intents and purposes, should be his enemy. “By the gods …” he breathed in a prayer of frustration.

Claudia turned her head at the sound but registered nothing but the pleasure raining down on her from above. She simply stared at Hector for long moments, eyes heavy lidded and passion dazed, wet kiss swollen lips gasping out her pleasure.

Achilles remained oblivious, as well, his body completing the transfer of his essence into her heated, quivering core, his body trembling violently along with hers before falling, sated, atop her panting flesh.

Gazing into the glassy eyes of his sister, vicariously viewing her orgasmic completion like some hedonistic voyeur, Hector finally closed his eyes as his body went slack with frustrated need, his back bracing against the door behind him for support. First Helen, now this … was there no respite f or him?

Claudia finally realized he was there, her brother was watching her with this man, but she could not bring herself to say anything to him. She turned her head and kissed and licked at Achilles’ shoulder, her arms holding securely to him.

Sighing with the pleasure of completion mixed with the thrill of her body still being pressed against his, Achilles rolled on to his side, pulling Claudia with him as his waned flesh eased from her body with a slick, erotic noise. Eyes opened and finally focusing, it was then that he noticed Hector. His hand simply moved to pull the satiny sheet to cover their heated, sweat covered bodies. “It appears we have company, love.”

As if the sight of their bodies joined, mixed with the intimate sound made by their bodies as they separated, the heated lust that raged through Hector’s body both excited and disgusted him simultaneously. This was his sister!

Claudia turned back to Hector then and instantly saw the confused revulsion upon his features. She smiled in understanding. "Hector, do not look as if you have just eaten something foul," she teased lightly.

Her brother moved to the nearby chair and eased into it, carefully crossing his legs to try and ease the ache as he ran his hand over his face. “Is that how I seem?” he asked in a slightly shaky voice.

Achilles lifted his torso resting his back against the pillows behind. “Brother,” he said softly, “what vexes you so … for I know it is more than seeing your sister and me together.”

Hector simply moaned at the vision that recreated and the pain that ran anew through his raging organ.

Claudia eased up onto the pillow beside Achilles, clutching the thin sheet across her full bosom. "What is it, Hector?" She would not speak it in front of Achilles but she could feel the familiar tension in her brother, feel it all the way across the room, it was the same tension that filled him before he sought several days and nights of seclusion.

Achilles felt the tension as well and realized that the two would not be able to speak freely with him in the chamber. Kissing Claudia’s forehead sweetly, he eased from the bed, pulling his discarded linen cloth tightly about his slim waist. “Love,” he said softly. “Please indicate to me a safe place in which I may relieve myself.” His eyes told her it was his way of affording the siblings privacy … but only a few moments worth.

There, my love." She smiled lovingly up at him as she pointed to a near hidden door across the room.

Touching her cheek softly, he moved toward the door laying a comforting hand on Hector’s shoulder as he passed.

When the room was quiet, Hector looked up and gave a weak smile to his sister. “Forgive me … I should not have intruded.”

"There is nothing to forgive, brother." She smiled sheepishly, her eyes twinkling as she stared at him. "I often spied upon you and women in my youth, Hector. I was curious as to what you did with them."

His eyes widened with disbelief. “You what?” He could not fathom what he had heard. “When? What did you see?”

"Everything," she simply replied, not sure she was prepared to speak to her brother of the things she had seen, and how she had seen him.

His eyes dulled slightly then. “That leaves much to the imagination,” he said, a million images running through his mind. “Since when have you been so reluctant to speak to me of your escapades?” He adjusted his legs again to ease the ache, wishing he had retired to the personal room to which she sent Achilles … at least then his hand could bring relief.

"Brother dear, I did not think you would appreciate your little sister hiding in your chamber watching you bed one of your admirers. I did not think you would want to know that I was there watching as your lover took you in her mouth. I did not think...." She shrugged and grasped the sheet twisting it around her as she turned on the bed and lay flat on her stomach at the end, her hand supporting her chin.

His eyes closed at the thought, even that not able to suppress his throbbing manhood. “Obviously it did you little damage to see such.” He sighed heavily. “I suppose, then, that we are even?” He again looked into her eyes, his brow rising questioningly. “Or if not, exactly how many more times must I happen upon such a sight as I did before we are even?” The barest hint of a teasing smile came to his lips showing a mere glimpse of her Hector beneath the sexually frustrated surface.

"We are even, brother, for I will never tell you exactly how many times you must wander into my chamber to match that of my wanderings." She laughed lightly and then grew serious. "What is wrong, Hector?"

He, too, grew somber. “It is Helen. I must talk … and I have no once else to whom I can speak of this.”

"Speak it to me, brother. There is nothing that can not be spoken between us. Tell me what she has done." A fire began to brew in the depths of Claudia's eyes. She would kill the woman, the Spartan whore, before she allowed her to hurt Hector or Paris. "What has she done?" She repeated.

A shame covered his face as he said plainly, “I was asleep. She came into my chamber, Claudia. She climbed into my bed touching me while I slumbered.” He leaned his head back and sighed. “She grasped my manhood … she pleasured herself in front of me …” He looked pleadingly into his sister’s eyes. “I tried to look away … tried to throw her out, to send her back to Paris … but she would not leave! I called for Melior to take the baby … Claudia, she did this with my son but a few feet away.” Again, he heaved a sigh. “I had intended to speak with Father … to have him take Helen to Paris personally. But Helen strapped herself to my bedposts … she cried claiming that I had dragged her into my chambers to ravage her violently. And, Claudia … when Melior entered the room … I saw, for the briefest moment, the belief that I could do such!” His eyes again looked into hers pleadingly, his words failing now.

Claudia's eyes widened in shock. "I can not deny that I knew very well that she was trying to seduce you, brother, but to take such a direct path about it. She and Paris must have spoken angry words tonight, or he denied her something she wished." She sat slowly up upon the bed, her hands holding the sheet in place. "And now you are in need, Hector. It is only natural that you will feel your body burn after such a display, it matters not if you even desire the woman at all. Womanly flesh exposed in such a manner could do nothing but heat your blood." She too sighed, knowing just how difficult this was for her brother. "And, as for Melior, she believes no such thing. You could be thought of no more highly than by me and she, too. Tell me certain that you did not see shock in her eyes and that it was not for the scene that was before her."

“Shock, yes,” Hector said as he stood and moved to the foot of the bed, easing down upon the softness of the mattress. “And disgust. Unadulterated disgust when our eyes met.” He chuckled slightly. “I can still see the look. I’m certain it was because of my obvious arousal at such a display.”

She reached up and caressed Hector's dark head with her free hand, loving him for the man that he was. "Brother, my dear and beloved brother, she has been wed for many years and knows a man's body well. If you saw disgust it was for Helen and the whore that she is. If you were but to seek her out, Melior would willingly share you bed."

A look tinged with surprise before relaxing his facial expression and actually laughing gently, pulling his sister into a familial, loving embrace. “Oh, be still, sister dearest, according to you all the females of Troy wish to be bedded by me.” He kissed the top of her head lovingly. “I adore you for the love you show me and the wonderful light it shines upon me.”

"What woman of Troy would not have enough mind to want to be bedded by you?" She giggled and he relaxed into the hug, rubbing her small hand across his back. "All will be set right, Hector, do not dwell upon it overly. Helen will meet her fate, as will we all."

Hearing the silence on the other side of the doorway, Achilles entered the room and leaned against the wall beside the portal, his arms crossed over his impressive, naked chest. “I have seen to all the business needed in this room,” he said as he eyed the chamber from whence he came. “Need you more privacy?”

Hector lifted his head and smiled openly, his arms never leaving his sister. “Come, we are finished,” he said as he kissed Claudia’s cheek soundly. “I shall leave you to your man,” he said into her ear.

"Many thanks, brother, for to be a moment without him is as a thousand deaths," she whispered back, cutting her eyes enticingly back to Achilles. "He is so very perfect, Hector." Her sigh was filled with love.

He smiled lovingly at his sister. “Perfection for perfection,” he said, trying not to feel the normal sadness a brother feels when his younger sister finds him less than perfect for another man. “He is a good man beneath his hardened exterior.”

Achilles sighed, pressing his back from the wall, his eyes heated on Claudia. “Is all well?”

"Go and ease yourself, body and mind, brother," she whispered to Hector before turning her attention to Achilles. "All is perfect, my love."

Moving to the bed, Achilles positioned himself to let his arms wrap gently around his lover’s neck so that both men now embraced the woman they both loved and whose love they shared, his eyes looking soulfully into Hector’s. “Rest well,” he said softly.

Hector nodded, taking the man’s words at value, knowing he was intruding upon their intimacy. “And the two of you as well,” he said, squeezing his sister’s form and standing to leave.

"Go to Melior, brother," Claudia urged as she watched Hector go, feeling his tension returning.

He turned and smiled at his sister, loving her for the concern she showed him. Without a word, he exited the room, leaning on the door behind him to gather his strength before returning to his room to assure himself that Melior had, indeed, disposed of Helen.