Take Me Home

Part 5

Blue waves in plenty came splashing merrily against the side of the black ship of Achilles’, creating frothing foam that tried to cling desperately to the barnacled planking. The frenzied sparkles and glitters from the reflection of the sunlight spread out far and wide as the billow pushed away from the breaking water.

The fully raised sail was stretched taut by the strong wind, pushing the ship forward in top speed while a pod of dolphins raced just ahead in playful spirit.

The day had turned out promising, for Poseidon was in good mood and thus sent fair wind to every corner of his domain.

The men had stopped rowing almost an hour ago. They had put enough distance not to be caught up so easily by the Achaeans should they try to follow. It had been quite an uneventful night and Achilles was proud of his men for carry out his orders with precision.

There were few empty zugons (ths) os) on the main deck but more on the lower level. Those men had given their life to fight alongside Achilles, but they would not die in vain. In honour of their bravery, he would make sacrifices to the gods on arrival into Phythia. Every dead son would be well compensated as well as a share of the treasure that they had acquisitioned from the temple.

Even knowing such ends to be with the mightiest warrior of all Hellene, young men competed fiercely to serve in his army. Parents were proud that their sons joined the Myrmidons and widowed wives walked with head held up high while in the streets at the agora; children boasted conceitedly of their fathers’ gallant deeds, innocent enough of adult’s affairs and childish hero worshipping.

Those who were tired were already nodding off while in their seats and others engaged themselves in quiet conversation with their neighbour and friends. They spoke of family and women waiting at home and the manner of disposing their well-earned fortune. They were now eager to return home. It was the way of a soldier’s life dedicated to war.

No one paid any heed to the huddled figure wrapped tightly in his dark cloak at the end of the ship. Even the helmsman minded his own business, eyes constantly ahead and thick, strong hands maneuvering the clavus (tiller) every so often.

Achilles was currently in deep discussion with his second-in-command - Eudoras. The seriousness reflected on their faces indicated that they were deliberating on something important.

Once in a while when Achilles remembered, he would turn to look at Paris to see how the youth faired. He had noticed that the former prince had yet to move from his spot since he left him there and even so, he hadn’t seem to twitch even a muscle as if he was dead where he laid.

Right after they had lost sight of the citadel, Paris crouched at the corner of the stern, pushing himself as deeply as he could, almost becoming a part of the ship itself and brooded in dark silence. Hours passed and finally feeling tired, he lay on the deck, back facing everyone for he didn’t wish to see the men’s faces.

The harsh sun beating down on his unprotected form must have been quite uncomfortable and hot, but Paris was past caring. He missed his family, especially Hector and surprisingly not Helen. The sight of her beautiful face and sensually curved body was now like a distant memory, an embodiment of a conjured fantasy from an art piece on the wall or ceiling. He didn’t blame her for his current fate but himself for choosing Aphrodite’s promised reward; and now she had abandoned him to the wills of men.

“Don’t worry too much, my lord. The men will make sure that he will not jump into the water,” Eudoras assured when he saw the concern in his master’s face.

“I am not worried about that. I don’t think he will try it either, from the looks of his condition,” Achilles replied as he still watched over Paris’ form.

He didn’t want to explain to Eudoras of his worries for Paris’ mental health, seeing the misery in the boy’s posture. His second was a good man and a fine soldier but that was all Achilles could rely on him. In company of men good for war, it was not a place to speak of the heart.

Quite the opposite of what Achilles believed, Eudoras was quite sensitive to such matters and he was always quick to understand the problem. He had been observing his lord and Patroclus with growing anxiety in his mind since the day the Trojan youth showed up.

In his few short years with Achilles, he had never witnessed the man show so deep concern and barely concealed emotions in his eyes for another with this intensity. While he was happy that his lord had finally found someone he truly loved, at the same time, he worried about Patroclus.

It was no secret that Patroclus and Achilles were lovers in name but now that the son of Peleus had openly shown his attraction physically for Paris with such fondness, Eudoras was afraid that Patroclus might react badly to this.

He had seen the burninbersbers in Patroclus’ grey eyes, the shade almost similar to his cousin and he had found out by chance when the young man was angrily sharpening his short dagger, a gift from Achilles himself.

Since he was only a simple man, he dared not overstep his boundaries between the two royal friends. Perhaps with time, Achilles would lose interest in his latest conquest over the Trojan youth and eventually return to Patroclus’ side as he always had.

By night fall, after dinner, Achilles had carried a lethargic Paris to a quieter spot in the ship. With the prince propped against his chest and wrapping his arms around his slender torso, they slept together under the stars, lulled by the gentle rocking of the trireme.

Meanwhile, the younger cousin of Achilles had gone around the ship to look for him and when he found the couple locked in tight embrace (although only Achilles was holding his lover), he stalked away fuming.

Patroclus was consumed with jealousy and for a good reason. For so many years that the young man had known his cousin even since childhood, Achilles had never shown him even that kind of comforted cuddle. He was nervous now, afraid that this ‘whore’ would steal his lover away forever.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

It was still twilight before the new day started when Paris showed the first sign of ‘life’. Feeling rather cold on his front, he shifted sleepily to his side, curled his legs up and snuggled himself deeper into them com cocoon. A contented sigh flowed pass his parched lips when he felt himself lifted and sat upon someone’s lap, and the cloak was adjusted to cover him better before the same arms wrapped around him again.

Several moments had passed before Paris decided to open his eyes. He thought that it was strange that Hector should be holding him like that at his age but perhaps his brother was only too happy because he had returned home.

However, when he felt the rocking motion, the different scent from the body beside him and the unfamiliar contour of his torso, Paris suddenly remembered where he was. In panic, he pushed himself away from the strong arms and scuttled away until his back bumped to the side of the ship.

Achilles was quite hurt by the rejection because he had gotten used to holding the yielding Paris all night. He found that he quite enjoyed having Paris in his arms and it felt so right somehow. No one had ever made him feel that way and Paris was like a long, lost lover come home to him.

In the dimness, Paris could not make out the look on Achilles’ face. He only saw the intense eyes staring at him.

“How are you feeling? You slept all day yesterday,” Achilles whispered.

“I’m all right. Just tired,” Paris answered softly. His voice sounded scratchy due to dryness.

The painful experience of being torn away from his home and family so suddenly was still gnawing him deeply. Being a prince, he never thought that it could happen to him. Now he understood how it felt when his sisters cried alone in the bedchambers at night when they were promised hand in marriage to future husbands who lived far away. She was at the mercy of a man she didn’t know and no one would help her because she was the outsider.

“Why do you stay away now when you had sought protection in my arms the whole night?” Achilles questioned. It was not a fair thing to say because Paris was not aware enough to realize that he was with Achilles.

The warrior wasn’t really looking for an answer from Paris so he stretched out his right hand to him, to invite him back to his arms. It was a bold move but since it was still dark and most of the men were asleep, he didn’t worry about being seen.

This new feeling of wanting to be gentle and patient was strange yet they were exhilarating, making his heart beat faster. It was a good feeling and he wanted more, like a greedyld. ld. With Patroclus, such desire never exist this deeply despite his love for his cousin.

As expected, Paris did not answer him. He only stared at the hand spread out in friendly gesture. After sometime, he shook his head.

“May I have some clothes to wear?” The youth lookedefulefully to his master. The tenseness in him was ebbing away.

“I will give them to you when light comes up. Now come here,” Achilles commanded in a cajoling tone. He did not wish to scare his lover anymore. It was enough hurting he had given him because in the end, he suffered them too because Paris would reject him. It was something he did not wish to bear. “Please?” he added with a pleading tone.

Being born the only child to a noble mortal and goddess, Achilles never had to beg. Always he received love in abundance and given everything his heart desire without questions. Therefore, if Paris would not give in, he would be greatly disappointed and that was something he was not used to.

It was also hard for Paris to submit because despite his attraction to the man, still he had abused him.

For the longest heart beats, the two men stared at each other, one waiting and one contemplating. Finally, the Trojan youth relented and shifted back to sit in front of the Greek warrior.

“May I hug you?” This time Achilles sought for permission first before he took the next step. When his lover nodded gingerly, he moved his limbs in slow, deliberate manner. He wanted Paris to start gaining trust in him before they land in Phythia.

He pushed Paris’ head to his chest and started caressing it in calm, soothing manner.

“Do not fear me or hate me again, Paris. I will never do anything that you do not like. I promise,” Achilles proclaimed solemnly.

The former prince felt the reverberated voice on his chest more than he heard the words. They were like royal edict to his heart but he willingly obeyed this time.

Achilles did not need his eyes to see because his heart and his body revealed to him, as clear as the little brook in the first day of warm spring, that Paris was opening up to his sincere offering of devoted companionship even though the youth was still resistant either from stubborn pride or that he was clueless of his own heart.

It would be up to Achilles to draw this boy out of his shell and it shall be a conquest he would enjoy very much in attaining.


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Author’s note: Ok, I’m INFAMOUS for all the dark fics but sometimes we gotta get a break. So, please don’t puke with my smutty scenes. ^_^