Will More Strongly

Will More Strongly

Chapter V


As was the case every morning, Paris had already departed their bed when Helen awoke. It was just as well as it afforded her more time away from the naive young prince. Her seduction of him could hardly be considered a conquest for he had been far too eager to lie between her thighs. What perplexed her was how little Paris seemed to enjoy their trysts. Had she not known better she would have believed it an unwelcome task he forced himself to perform.

Lounging abed as long as possible, Helen pushed the silk blankets down to her hips. As she brought her hands up over her head to stretch her morning stiff muscles, she trailed her fingers over the naked flesh of her stomach, relieved to find it as flat as it had been since her departure from Sparta. Despite what she had told her new husband, she had no desire to disfigure her slender frame in childbirth. At present she was the most beautiful woman in the world and she feared that would not be so if she bore Paris a child.

"Good morning, my lady," a young serving girl greeted as she entered the bedchamber. "I have brought you some bread and fruits to break your fast."

"Thank you, Eurydice," Helen murmured as she slowly raised herself to a seaposiposition. "Just leave it there on the table and hand me my robe."

Helen had reluctantly levered herself from the bed by the time Eurydice had returned with the elegant silk robe that perfectly matched one Paris was fond of wearing. It had been a gift from her husband, though Helen suspected his brother's wife Andromache had been behind the gift. Paris himself seemed very distant and was not likely to even consider giving her such a gift.

"Do you happen to know where my husband is this morning?" Helen asked the dark-haired girl as she fastened the sash of her robe.

"He is with Prince Hector overseeing the fortifications of the city," Eurydice said quietly as she began to straighten the bedclothes. "I've heard it said that the Greek army is only two days from our shores."

"Two days?" Helen echoed, her eyes widening at the news. "Menelaus has built his army with incredible speed to be so close to our doorstep."

"The men say that it is King Agamemnon who commands the fleet on behalf of his brother," the girl clarified. "A fleet of at least a thousand ships."

Helen brought a goblet of fresh fruit juice to her lips to hide the smile that appeared on her lips. Allowing the conversation to fade, Helen finished her meal while the servant set about straightening the bed and selecting her clothes for the day. As with every morning, Helen used the early hours of the morning to prepare herself for yet another day as the dutiful and loving wife of Prince Paris of Troy.

~*~*~

"That is them, is it not?" Paris asked as he squinted out into the distance, barely able to see the block dots that would eventually reveal themselves as ships. "The Greeks are nearly here."

"They are closer than it was reported.... In a few hours they will be on our shores," Hector confirmed, coming to stand next to his brother at the water's edge. "Poseidon must favour them to bring their ships to our shores so quickly."

Paris hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue. "Do you think it is possible that Achilles is on one of those ships?"

"Paris...." Hector groaned, stalking away from the younger man. He got only a few steps before whirling back around. "Are you mad? There is a fleet of a thod shd ships sailing towards the city that is intent on killing all of us and you are concerned about your lover?!"

"I am no different than you in wanting to keep the ones I love safe," Paris insisted, facing his brother's glare head on.

Hector laughed bitterly, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "And in doing so you have caused a war that could very well lead to your lover's death. Achilles is a warrior and I do not doubt for one moment that he is on one of those ships. The man you love will have no qualms about killing our countrymen."

"Not if he knows that I am here," Paris argued as he chewed nervously on a thumbnail.

"And just how is Achilles to know that you are his shepherd?"

"I will meet the first of the ships and demand to be taken to him," Paris declared boldly, standing up straight as possible to make himself appear taller and more formidable.

Hector's eyes grew wide and he hissed at the younger man, "Have you taken complete leave of your senses? Those soldiers will not stop to talk. They will kill you in an instant, brother! No, you will be locked safe within the palace walls."

"I can fight, Hector! There is no need to lock me behind the walls of the city like a woman" he protested, wishing that he did not sound like a petulant child. "Achilles himself taught me to fight."

"But you have never seen a battle," Hector reminded him. "You have never fought to defend your life and you have never killed another man with your own hands. I will not risk you getting yourself killed, Paris. Not when it is in my power to prevent it."

"You cannot protect me always."

"No, but I will protect you when I am able," Hector insisted vehemently. "Even when it is yourself that you need protecting from. Now return to the palace."

Wanting to spare himself the indignity of being forcibly escorted to the gates of the city, Paris scowled at his older brother then turned on his heel and stalked away. Tears of humiliation burned in his eyes, doing their utmost to defy his desperate attempts to blink them away. Paris did not want to show any sign of weakness in front of the soldiers, but could feel his cheeks flushing as he stalked angrily across the sand. Around him, Paris could hear the jeers and whispers of the men which were accompanied by pointing fingers and angry smirks.

Each taunt only steeled Paris' resolve further. He was determined to prove to Hector that he could help defend the city he had placed in jeopardy. Paris was willing to admit that he was not a seasoned warrior. Achilles had taught him to defend himself, but only just. Paris' talent lay in archery, a fact that neither Hector nor Achilles could dispute.

"I will wager that you cannot strike the knot in that tree there with one of your arrows," Achilles taunted as the pair sat leaning against a large boulder that had been padded with their clothing and Alexandros' cloak. Achilles' cloak was spread beneath them so that they sat comfortably upon the ground.

Leaning against his lover's shoulder, Alexandros tilted his head back to meet the older man's amused gaze. "Is that so? And just what are the terms of this wager?"

"Should you manage to hit that minute target I will allow you to have your way with me however you see fit," Achilles said, holding his hands away from his body with his fingers pointed back towards himself.

Alexandros rolled his eyes, snorting quietlyThatThat is hardly a challenge at all, beloved. I would feel as though I were cheating you."

"Then what do you recommend?" Achilles inquired as he grasped Alexandros' hand in his own and brought it to his lips to kiss the callused fingertips.

"First hit that same target your spear," Alexandros instructed, nodding to the weapon which lay alongside Achilles' armour.

"Simple enough," the warrior nodded as he lumbered to his feet and went to retrieve the spear.

Achilles returned to the boulder where Alexandros still sat, visually lining up the shot. Alexandros could only watch in awe as Achilles lunged forward several paces and hurled the spear with incredible force across the clearing and into their designated target. His dark eyes followed the movement of the well toned muscles beneath the tanned skin. Even as he stood stationary those muscles continued to flex and twitch as Achilles the warrior mentally transformed himself back to Achilles the lover.

"Done."

With a wide grin on his face, Alexandros rose gracefully to his feet and gliding past Achilles to retrieve his bow and a single arrow from his quiver. The young shepherd returned to their makeshift bed without a word and knocked the arrow. Breathing deeply, Alexandros pushed all distractions from his mind and focused all of his senses on the end of the spear where he hoped to fire his arrow. Alexandros was meticulous in lining up the shaft of his arrow with the shaft of Achilles' spear. Only when he was confident that he would his target did he release the arrow.

"I do believe that is a victory for me," Alexandros laughed as he spun about on his heel so that he was once again facing his lover.

On the opposite side of the clearing Alexandros' arrow quivered from its new resting place embedded in the end of the spear shaft.

As he stormed through the still open gates that led into the city, Paris' features darkened still further as he was not sure when he would ever again set foot outside of them. Being the reason for the upcoming war, Paris did not see why he should be exempt from defending the city. He had convinced Helen to come with him to Troy knowing full well that there would be dire consequences and he had been prepared to defend his actions.

Paris would not allow Hector to pamper him. He would fight, and die if necessary, rather than hide away in safety.

~*~*~

"Would it not be better to fall back in line with the other ships?" Patroclus questioned as he came to stand next to his elder cousin. "We place ourselves in danger by being the first to shore."

Achilles did not remove his eyes for the ever approaching beach. "I am not here for Agamemnon. He can placate his brother and declare a war to regain Menelaus' honour while he seeks to gain the riches of Troy for himself, but I will not be so fooled. I am here to find Alexandros and for no other reason."

"You may say that, cousin, but I do not believe you," Patroclus argued, a knowing expression on his young features. "You will not stand by and allow your countrymen to be slaughtered if it is possible for you to aid them."

"It is no concern of mine if they are foolish enough to follow Agamemnon and Menelaus." Achilles cast a hard look at his cousin before stalking towards the rear of the ship where his armour and weapons lay in wait for him.

Patroclus was wise enough to refrain from following after him. The closer their ship came to Troy, the more precarious his temper became. For the past two days he had been barking orders at the crew, forcing a punishing pace so that they would be the first to reach Troy. Their advantage as not a great one, but Achilles intended to use it as best he could.

"It would appear as though you have me at a disadvantage, my love," Achilles murmured as he stared at the still quivering arrow that was now embedded in the end of his spear.

"You are the one who suggested the wager, not I," Alexandros grinned as he set aside his bow. "However, if you would prefer to renege on the wager...."

A smile spreading across his lips, Achilles came to stand before the young shepherd and brought his hands up to frame his face. "Oh no, you will not attempt to prove me false."

"I was suggesting no such thing," Alexandros whispered, taking half a step forward so that he and Achilles stood pressed together shoulders to knees. "I would not dare to impugn the honour of the great Achilles."

Laughing softly, Achilles attempted to mold his body still closer to his love's. Obviously being of a same mind, Alexandros began to slide downward so that he was sprawled wantonly on the cloak. While Achilles stood transfixed at his feet, Alexandros slid his fingers over his body, stroking his dark nipples before moving down to his navel. As he began to toy with the edges of that indented bit of flesh, Achilles dropped to his knees between Alexandros' spread thighs. When he made a move to reach forward, Alexandros shook his head as his hand continued its slow trail down his torso. Achilles could not contain a moan as Alexandros' slender fingers slid through his thatch of dark pubic hair to grasp the base of his penis.

"You are torturing me, beloved," Achilles groaned, cupping his hands over Alexandros' upraised knees.

"I am merely claiming my prize," Alexandros gasped as he began to stroke his hardening length. "The terms of our little agreement state that I can have my way with you."

"And one would assume that would require my participation," Achilles said as he tightened his grasp on Alexandros' knees.

"Then one was mistaken," his taunting young lover laughed.

With each moment that passed, Achilles became equally more aroused and increasingly frustrated. Alexandros was a sight that even the gods themselves would pay worship to. Sleek muscles hidden by olive flesh that was dampening with a fine sheen of perspiration. Expressive brown eyes gazing up at him through fluttering eyelashes as he fondled the stiff organ that was thrusting up from between his flexing thighs.

Achilles longed to reach out and replace Alexandros' hand with his own. To that end he slowly allowed his fingers to crawl down his lover's thighs, inching ever closer to his genitals. When Alexandros seemed to brook no argument, Achilles became bolder and allowed his fingers to delve below his scrotum to the bit of flesh that always seemed to stir such passions in the younger man. True to form, as soon as Achilles' fingers pressed against it, a keening wail escaped Alexandros' lips and his fingers faltered in their machinations.

"Have pity, 'Xandros," Achilles pleaded as he began to seek friction for his own arousal against the shepherd's lower leg.

Holding his free hand out towards the warrior, Alexandros allowed himself to be pulled into a seated position. His legs remained sprawled on either side of Achilles' hips and he silently motioned for him to seat himself as well. Achilles did as instructed and Alexandros languidly raised himself to his knees so that their chests were pressed together. When Achilles took a firm hold of his hips, the limber young brunette leaned his torso backwards so that he was in reach of his satchel which he dragged back towards them. He used oil from the small vial within to slick Achilles own erection before carefully lowering himself down.

"Is this what one had in mind?" Alexandros said in a breathless voice. His dark eyes stared directly into Achilles own lighter ones and there was such passion and love in them that it stole the breath from his lungs.

With hard, precise movements Achilles donned his armor. He would lay Troy to waste as he searched for his beloved. He would find Alexandros or perish in the attempt.

~*~*~

Paris lined his arrow with the target on the opposite side of the courtyard. Already there were several arrows embedded into the straw block, many of them close to the marked center point, a few having struck within the splatter of dark ink. When he released the arrow, it struck that coloured section of the straw and the act was followed by applause from behind him.

"Well done, my son. Our archers would do well to take instruction from you," Priam cheered as Paris spun about on his heel to spot the intruder.

"Father. Should you not be with your council?" Paris inquired, setting his bow aside before moving closer to the aging king. "The Greeks are quite nearly upon us."

Priam seated himself upon a nearby stone bench, his joints creaking with the motion, and patted the empty spot beside him. "You seem quite anxious about the arrival of the Greeks, though that emotion does not seem to be based on a fear of losing your new wife."

"It is not fear for Helen's safety," Paris confirmed as he lowered himself down next to his father. "These walls are impenetrable and she will remain safe enough within them."

"If your fear does not involve her...."

"I stole Helen from Menelaus to save the one I truly love," Paris admitted, casting his eyes downward so that he would not witness his father's disappointment. "Menelaus meant to have the one I love murdered so I had to find a way to distract him from that task. I swear to you that I never meant to start a war. That was never my intention. I wanted only to save him. But now I fear that he will die along with hundreds of others for a crime that I alone committed."

The old king placed a hand under his youngest's chin, forcing him to raise his head. Only when Paris met his eyes did he begin to speak. "I have fought many wars in my life. Some over land, others for power, but I do believe that love is the greatest of all reasons."

"I was a fool," Paris insisted, shaking his head out of his father's hold. "There was no need for me to seduce Helen and lure her from her husband's side. I need only have gone to my love and we could have hidden ourselves away from Menelaus and any who would have harmed us. There was no need for any of this."

"What is done cannot be undone, Paris. A man can only accept the consequences of his action and move on from there."


~*~*~

big thanx to Garnet for pointing out my pre-beta mistake and for all the great feedback you've been sending! huge thank you to everyone else for the fantastic feedback! it inspires the muses!