Possession

Title: Possession
Author: nclowe
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Paris/?, Paris/Hector
Warnings: Angst, abuse, poss non-con
Disclaimer: All false. Lies I tell you, LIES!!!!
Beta: fyre02
Summary: I do not know when I first realised something was different…that something was wrong, but I know it was not as soon as I should have.
AN: My first attempt at Troy fics!

I do not know when I first realised something was different…that something was wrong, but I know it was not as soon as I should have.

It was two months ago I noticed the first bruise. It was small, barely visible above the hem of his robe, yet it was there. I had not long lost a good friend for a stupid reason; a drunken brawl getting out of hand… I like to tell myself this is why I did not notice sooner. I know I am a liar.

For some reason I decided not to ask him about it, rationalising it as mark acquired in training…the next set were not so easily dismissed. Not two weeks after, he took to hiding away in his chambers. Understandably I was concerned, for my little brother is usually quite the socialite. I strode into his room, searching the airy apartment till I found him hiding away on his balcony. I will never forget the way he looked that day… He sat curled up in his large chair, arms wrapped around his legs as he stared down at the people milling about in the streets below. The wind blew his curls around his face, gently caressing the garish bruise covering the left side of his face. He did not hear my call, nor my approach for he jumped when I touched his arms. Such despair did I see in his usually joyous eyes; tracks of tears glistening in the morning sun. I held him as he cried in my arms, my own heart breaking as his sobs coursed through me. Yet even as the tears dried up he refused to say a word.

More bruises appeared as the weeks passed yet still my brother refused to confide in me. I had no choice but to watch as the playful light usually so apparent in his eyes began to die day by day till all that remained was painful to look at. His boyish body, already lithe in stature had become dangerously thin, each bone prominent under his once golden skin. Yet still he would not tell me who had hurt him so.

I know my brother will hate me for the intrusion, but I can no longer sit by and idly watch as he continues to fade before my eyes. The guards I posted at his doors have reported no one entering Paris’ room besides myself, my father and my mother, so whoever is harming my baby brother must have gained access elsewhere…I intend to find out.

I do not know how I should feel as I sit in the dark, hidden in the recesses of Paris’ room as I wait for his attacker to appear. My brother does not know I am here, and for that I am grateful, for I have the opportunity to see him at peace for the first time in months. His chest rises slowly; small puffs of air displacing his ever chaotic curls as he exhales. The nights are warm this time of year; his naked skin glistening in the moonlight, a thin sheet the only cover to preserve his modesty. I should not say this, for he is my brother…but he is magnificent. Purely a gift from the Gods himself, sent to tempt even the chaste of men. Though his body is too thin, and red marks cover his wrists and torso…he is yet the most beautiful sight I have seen.

Wait…My breath catches as I hear a noise. Shifting, yet careful not to disclose my presence I watch amazed as the doors to the chamber are slowly pushed open; light from the corridor casting stark shadows across the room. I have only moments to wonder where the guards are when I notice as tall figure slipping through, the doors closed once again behind him. Him…I can see it is a man for he is tall and as broad as myself in the chest, yet his features are hidden from me as the light from the corridor is cut off.

The man moves across the room, gaze clearly focused on my brother still sleeping unawares. For some reason I do not move straight away, even though the stranger could pose some danger to the defenceless youth before me; instead I remain silent…watching.

The stranger moves closer to the bed, pausing once he reaches the foot of the large mattress. Without saying a word he reaches out, throwing the flimsy sheet to the side in one swift movement. The sudden rush of air over his body must have registered with Paris, for he begins to stir from his sleep. The man does not waste time, quickly straddling my brothers’ naked form as he grabs hold of the thin wrists. I do not know where the man got the rope, yet he uses it to quickly bind the captured hands to the bed head. Though my brother is now awake he does not utter a sound, simply staring at the man above him…Why do I not move? For some reason I cannot; my limbs leaden and unresponsive to my demands.

I try to cry out as the intruder slaps my innocent brother round the face…hard, yet my voice has been taken from me. For the first time I wonder whether the man has cast some kind of spell on us, explaining why my brother does not protest to this treatment…and why I cannot.

The stranger quickly moves, removing himself off the still body as he discards his robe; the mans’ erection is impressive even from this distance. He roughly pushes my brother to the side, manoeuvring them both until he now rests in between the youthful thighs. Without any preparation he surges forwards, plunging himself full into the most private part of my brothers body. A small hiss is the only noise Paris makes at the painful intrusion, yet even this earns him another powerful blow to the head. The man moves, strong muscles flexing with each thrust into the captive body. Shamefully I feel myself harden as I watch the sickening taboo unfold, the noise of skin against skin echoing loudly in the still of the night.

The man grabs hold of my brothers’ thighs, pushing them further apart so he can lean in closer. My brother visibly shivers, hands twisting in his bonds as the man thrusts faster; his hands slowly moving up the young body beneath him. My breath stops as I watch those large fingers curl around Paris’ thin neck…constricting. Brown eyes widen in shock as the fingers tighten, mouth open seeking air, yet the hands do not move. I can feel tears on my face as I watch my brother buck desperately beneath his attacker, each powerful thrust into his small body taking him one step closer to his fate.

The man tenses suddenly, muscles tightening as he spills his poisonous load deep into his victim. Pulling out, the man hastily grabs his robe, wrapping it around himself as he climbs off the bed. My brother does not move….I cannot tell if he still draws breath.

Footsteps draw my attention as the man walks towards the doors, light once again spilling into the room as they open. He turns...It cannot be…

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“PARIS!!” My heart pounds in my chest as I look around in panic. The bed beneath me is damp with sweat, testament of the horror of the dream I had just witness. Taking a deep breath I quickly run a hand through my hair; curls wet with perspiration. Glancing at the open window I can tell it is but early morn, several hours before anyone is due to rise, but I know I will find no more rest. Rolling out of bed I quickly grab my robe, not caring if I later appear foolish…but for now I need to see my brother.

Quietly I make my way down the corridor to his rooms, feet slapping lightly against the cold stone floor. Pushing his doors open I quickly close them behind me, turning to observe my brother. He still sleeps, lying on his back, thin bed sheet pooled around his feet…

My breath freezes in my chest… it cannot be…

I do not try to be silent as I run down to his side, crying out as I see him clearly; hands still bound to the headboard, blood running down his face from his nose and mouth, stark bruises shaped like fingers evident around his neck.

“Paris! My brother!” I do not understand how this could be. It had been a dream had it not? It could not have been a vision, for it is my sister, not I who has that ability. Reaching over I quickly unbind the thin wrists, sickness pooling in my stomach as small droplets of blood flow from where the course material has cut delicate skin. I call out for help, tears streaming down my face as I shake the still body on the bed, desperate for any sign of life.

Brown eyes slowly flutter open; unfocused gaze drifting around the room until they settle on me. A small smile…

I cannot help but cry out in relief, pulling the small body to me as I hold him tight. I look down at his face as a gentle hand touches the side of my face. His lips move but I cannot hear what he says. Leaning closer I place my ear next to his mouth…

“You love me” The voice is so quiet…

“Of course I love you brother”.

“Yes…but now I know-” he pauses to cough, a sound almost too painful to behold, “-I know I am worthy of you. You returned..”

“I returned? I do not-” I cannot finish, for suddenly I do understand. I do understand, but cannot accept. I pull back quickly, looking at the youth in my arms in panic. Images return to me unbidden; flashes of nights, of pain, of taking…

“No…” It cannot be…yet suddenly I know it is. Footsteps draw my attention as the man walks towards the doors, light once again spilling into the room as they open. He turns...It cannot be…yet it is. I watch as I, Hector, Prince of Troy, smile coldly before turning once again; doors closing…all becomes dark