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Divine Inspiration	By : LuckyPanda13 Category: S through Z > Troy Views: 5192 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Troy or the Iliad, nor any character from such, and I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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I had watched Achilles for years on the rare days he deemed my men worthy enough to fight and slaughter. He was a masterpiece. Every movement was calculated perfectly and executed flawlessly. Every step and motion and attack was a work of art in itself. Naturally, respect nestled into my thoughts regarding the warrior. That being said, some part of me always knew I was going to end up fighting the man, so I forced myself to fight harder, more skillfully, more disciplined than ever before. I knew that whenever we fought, it would be to the death and I wouldn’t necessarily win that fight. I killed every Greek in my path in order to better myself for the inevitable fight against Achilles. I refused to ever admit that the respect had slowly manifest into maybe something more, especially since the warrior rarely decided to venture from his tent.
I thought I was prepared for our inevitable encounter, though my heart pounded uncomfortably at the thought. And there was no way I was admitting that my nervousness was less about my potential death and more about the chance to admire the golden-armored Greek up close. There was absolutely nothing base or carnal in me when I finally faced off with the warrior. Nothing at all. When the fight started turned in my favor, I felt the potential triumph flood through my veins, making me more powerful and faster than ever. And no feelings of arousal. At all. I told myself it was more about my pride for beating Achilles than it was about my assertion of dominance over the man. I was always a bad liar.
I saw the golden-clad man fall to the ground and I raised my sword to finish it, feeling the victory inflame my movements, when the blue eyes met my brown ones. My arm weakened with the realization that I was not fighting Achilles. I let my arm drop and I paused to catch my breath as two men stepped forward to the youth on the ground. One was Achilles’ second-in-command, Eudorus, and the second appeared to be like any other Greek, but his poise spoke of power, enlightening me to the possibility that I was facing the King of Ithaca. I found it remarkable how the king was able to be so well-known and yet so unknown. Everyone knew of Achilles and his Myrmidons, but Odysseus had managed to maintain his anonymity throughout the war.
“Enough.” I said in my accented Greek, nodding at who I presumed was Odysseus. “Peace until the morrow.” Greek was not a terribly difficult language to pick up, but I was never able to rid myself of my Luwian accent. According to the Greeks I had spoken with, Luwian was not difficult to pick up either, but they were all able to speak it without much of an accent. Helen had a perfect Luwian accent, but I was stuck with mine, which could be a little frustrating. Especially when my five-year-old son, who insisted on learning what I was saying when I was trying to keep information from him with Andromache, could speak Greek without hint of an accent.
“Agreed.” The man stepped forward and offered his hand. I gripped the proffered hand and nodded again. “Thank you, prince.”
“He shouldn’t wear that armor unless his experience can match that of Achilles’.” I nodded at the youth, who was being verbally berated by Eudorus.
“Agreed.” The man frowned. “It will not happen again.” We released our grip on each other and turned back to our men, ordering the peace for the day. As much as I wanted to abandon the battlefield and the death of the day, I couldn’t leave yet. I ordered the dead to be buried and the wounded to be returned to Troy while I sat watch over his men, ensuring both that the Greeks wouldn’t attack them and that my men didn’t attack the Greeks. I trusted them to obey me, but I didn’t trust that they wouldn’t rise to the bait that the Greeks might throw.
“You didn’t have to spare him.” Odysseus approached me slowly as I sat on the ground.
“He is a child. He does not know nor understand the consequences of what could have been today.” I replied, indicating for the king to take a seat beside me. Odysseus did, stretching out comfortably.
“You speak the truth. That being said, you do not understand what could have been today.” Odysseus said, shifting to Luwian and making me stare in surprise. His accent was perfect. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he was Trojan. Most individuals stayed in their first language just out of comfort. “You spared Patroclus’ life, and, in that respect, garnered respect and thanks from Achilles himself.” I blinked in shock. I had no idea that the beloved cousin of Achilles had been the youth I spared. “And now you understand how critical that move was. If Patroclus had died, Achilles would have reacted rather violently.”
“We would have all died.” I sighed, running a hand over my features.
“Now, I don’t know if Achilles will even try to fight you, out of gratitude for your actions.” Odysseus admitted.
“Then the war will never end.” I replied.
“I understand.” Odysseus agreed. “Do not give up hope for peace, though. Perhaps it will be more easily won than thought.” I didn’t respond. We sat in silence for a long while, just watching our men collect the injured and bury the dead. Odysseus finally stood up, his gaze concentrated on the beaches.
“It appears we’ll figure out Achilles’ plan sooner than expected.” He said. I looked over and spotted the golden-haired warrior approaching them, Eudorus at his heels. Instantly, I felt uneasy about their approach and stood, preparing myself for a potential fight. I could take Eudorus or Odysseus in a fair fight, but combined with Achilles, I could never win. “Peace, young prince.” Odysseus smiled at me. “Achilles is far more likely to hug you than stab you at the moment.” I still watched Achilles as he approached, his blue eyes blazing cold fire and fierce determination in a way that I had never seen before.
“You saved my cousin.” Achilles said in Greek as soon as he was in earshot.
“I spared the life of a foolish youth.” I amended.
“You didn’t kill him and you will forever have my gratitude for that.” Achilles wisely stopped several feet away from me, his steel eyes taking in every facet of me. I looked the warrior over at the same time, measuring up my enemy. The man was built finer than any warrior I had ever seen. His face was more striking than even that of Helen’s and his confident arrogance spoke volumes simply in his posture and expression. That being said, Achilles looked more grateful than conceited at the moment. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find the Greek attractive. The power that radiated from him made him dangerous and that was even more exciting than I was willing to admit. Especially to myself.
“If I meet him on the battlefield, I will only strike if he attacks first, but I will not spare him again.” I replied, dragging my gaze from Achilles’ body to his face.
“I wouldn’t have spared him in the first place.” Achilles nodded. “But you did, and that means more to me than if you killed a thousand Greeks tomorrow.”
“Although he is still too young for battle,” I allowed, “It might have easily been my son who thoughtlessly charged into battle wearing my armor.” Achilles’ eyes focused on me more deeply than before. Where at first, his gaze had been assessing and calculating, now his gaze was appreciative and approving. I shifted uncomfortably under his heavy gaze. I did not like how the Greek was staring at me. Not at all.
“Thank you very much, Hector.” Achilles allowed a smirk to play across his features and I avoided looking at those too-blue eyes. “Eudorus, will you go keep an eye on Patroclus? Make sure he doesn’t get into any more trouble. Odysseus, I would like your assistance in determining how best to punish my cousin.” Taking the hint, both Odysseus and Eudorus left the warrior and me, looking more amused than anything else.
“Is there a reason you are still here?” I asked bluntly, cursing my lack of tact.
“I’m admiring the view.” Achilles’ damnable smirk wouldn’t leave.
“I mean,” I felt heat stain my features, “You hardly fight, you despise the men you are supposed to fight for, and you hold nothing but disdain for the reason behind this war.”
“Ah.” Achilles nodded and stepped closer to me, his movements liquid and primal. I was abruptly reminded of lions and predators as Achilles stalked closer, invading my personal space and enlightening my senses to his earthy musk and rich soapy scent. And no, it was not arousing in any respect. “I was promised eternal glory should I fight in this war. And I wanted eternal glory.”
“But not anymore?”
“The near-death of my cousin brought to me fear, which I have never before experienced.” Was all Achilles would say on the matter. “What about you, prince? Why do you continue to fight? I have heard you hate this war.”
“My brother is young and even more foolish than your Patroclus.” I said slowly, unsure of how much I should say regarding the moronic decisions my brother had made. My father and brother were well-aware of how much I wanted to punch my brother’s face in for the sheer stupidity of his actions, but I kept it quiet to avoid having a riot in the streets of Troy. I would give Helen over in a heartbeat if it meant my son could grow up safely and be able to venture beyond the walls of our city without worrying about a Greek kidnapping him or murdering him where he stood. “There is nothing in this war but death and misery. Even if one triumphs over another, neither side will win. Not with the amount of death that has happened.”
“Perhaps peace can be arranged.” I stared at the Greek in shock. It was well-advertised that the great Achilles was fond of fighting, though he grew bored quickly if he wasn’t challenged.
“Not if both Paris and Menelaus refuse to part with Helen.” Achilles’ gaze was making me uncomfortable beyond belief and I shifted slightly, moving as far as I could from Achilles without betraying any fear. I stubbornly refused to admit to myself that it wasn’t fear I was feeling. I adamantly ignored the notion that the feeling was anything close to embarrassment or arousal. I also stalwartly avoided focusing on his scent for too long. That way lay personal demons I had no time to wrestle with. Those sharp eyes caught my every movement, though, and the Greek’s smirk only widened. I thought that when Achilles opened his mouth he was going to tease me about the tiny motion.
“You don’t look like you can tame horses.” I blinked in surprise.
“You don’t look like an overprotective mother.” I mentally swore. I normally had better control over my mouth. I had to, as a prince. Instead of getting offended, Achilles laughed.
“I protect my family and my men, as you have been doing, with great skill, I might add.” He replied.
“I do what Troy asks of me.” I had no idea to respond to the compliment.
“How selfless.” Achilles spoke without malice or mockery, but admiration instead.
“It is almost evening.” I noted the sun’s position and that most of my men had made their way back into the city.
“Yes, it is.” Achilles’ eyes never once left me.
“I should be getting back to the city.” I announced the obvious, hoping Achilles would take the hint.
“Should you?” Achilles teased lightly.
“My family will be expecting me.” I replied.
“Will they?” Achilles stepped closer and closer to me, making me more and more uncomfortable with how prey-like I felt.
“Yes, as I’m sure your men are expecting you.” I said, swallowing tightly. Achilles’ eyes focused on the small contraction of my throat for a moment.
“They know better than to expect anything of me.” Achilles replied. I hummed noncommittally and forced my feet to move me away from the warrior. I avoided the blue gaze and mounted the horse my men brought for me. I made the mistake of looking back at the Greek. His eyes were narrowed with displeasure and dissatisfaction, though his pupils were large enough to cut the blue orbs down to narrow slivers. His mouth was open the tiniest bit, betraying a small amount of admiration for something I had apparently done, though I couldn’t name what it was.
“Until the morrow.” I called, feeling it a bit disrespectful to leave without a word. Achilles’ gaze found my brown eyes and his smirk returned with a vengeance.
“I look forward to it.” With that, I kicked his horse into a gallop, trying to get away from those piercing steel eyes. I didn’t realize my heart had been racing until I reached the city gates and I really didn’t realize that I had been breathing in Achilles’ scent as deeply as possible until I had dismounted from my horse safely inside Troy’s walls. Breathing slowly to calm my racing heart, I brushed the horse down, refusing to go to my family while I was so worked up over a Greek. I couldn’t name why I was so agitated by Achilles. Something about the Greek just screamed “predator” and it made me uneasy.
When I awoke in the middle of the night with golden hair and steel blue eyes flashing behind my lids and the most desperate erection I had ever experienced, I knew I had to avoid the warrior as much as humanly possible. I felt more ashamed than I had ever felt in my life when I woke Andromache and pounded her into the mattress. She didn’t say a word, which made me feel guiltier, though I ensured that she enjoyed herself. It wasn’t unusual for me to experience lust in the aftermath of a battle, and my wife had long since accepted my aggressive coupling with her since the war began. It didn’t assuage my guilt any, however. When I prepared to go out onto the battlefield the following morning, she merely kissed me and gave me her usual “come back to me safely”.
The morning began normally, with Greek after Greek dying at my hands. I fought on the flank of the army, putting me directly next to the forest. Exhaustion was starting to wear on me by midday, so I decided to fall back and allow other Trojans to take my place for a few hours while I rested. I was making my retreat when a spear flew towards my face. My dodge brought me to the ground near the Greek line and when I glanced up, the golden armor was shining directly above me. I backed away from Achilles, mentally preparing myself for quite literally the fight of my life. I silently swore; I was far too tired to fight Achilles and maintain even a semblance of fine form. My gaze flickered to the forest and I weighed my chances.
There were plenty of wild horses in the trees that I could tame in order to get away. Then again, my father’s generals would accuse me of cowardice, again, and I’d never be rid of the rumors. I glanced back at Achilles, whose eyes had narrowed as if to say “don’t even try it”. I wouldn’t win. Even on my best day when I wasn’t exhausted from fighting for years, I couldn’t guarantee that I could beat the Greek. Granted, it would be a hard fight for both of us, but I couldn’t even hope to compete with his abilities as tired as I was. I considered my options for a good few seconds, also unconsciously keeping an eye on the fighting around me, so I didn’t get stabbed. Achilles’ oppressive gaze made my decision for me.

Thanks for reading! This is something I’ve been working on for a while, but I wanted to finish it before uploading it, because it was originally a one-shot. Obviously, that totally worked out. Except not. I have a bad habit of refusing to allow “our eyes met and we fell in love” in my fics. I’m a bigger fan of realistic expectations of love. Therefore, it took me a long time to get Achilles and Hector to fall in love, because they’re just awesome that way. Honestly, I love Hector and I know that he and Achilles would have been attracted to each other because, hello! Tanned, muscley, badass warrior meeting another tanned, muscley, badass warrior. I think they would have at least gotten along had they been given a chance. Hector would have been amused by Achilles’ bravado more than anything else.
Anyway, thank you for reading the first part! Let me know what you think in a review! I’d love to incorporate feedback into my writing style!
Thanks!

~LP
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Divine Inspiration