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Changing fate	By : darkangel985 Category: S through Z > Troy Views: 13199 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Troy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
Gods, it's been
ages, literally, since I last posted a chapter to this story. I don't
know why, but somehow I had completely lost my inspiration for it.
This is definitely not the longest or best chapter I have ever
written, but at least it's something. I won't promise you a new
chapter soon, because I don't want to break this promise later, but
rest assured that I will finish this someday. Many, many, many thanks
go to my faithful reviewers, who have left me comments, even though I
abandoned this story for too long. Thank you to lonelylady4ever,
Kerry, tf, Melina, J.T, Vacilica Malfoy, LoveAngel, Eve, mirage and
Hi!. I hope that
some of you are still around, but I certainly can't blame anybody, if
they've stopped reading due to the long wait.

Chapter 12 – Achilles vs. Ajax

Achilles couldn't help but grin while he circled around Ajax, the
movements familiar from countless sparring fights. Whenever they had
met each other in the past they had trained together, fighting and
learning each other's moves. But their fights had never been serious
and so they had always ended with a draw.

Not this time. This time one of them would end up dead, while the
other would earn the glory of having beaten one of the greatest
warriors to ever been known in Greece. Had they met under different
circumstances Achilles would have considered to let Ajax live, just
like he had done with Odysseus, but unfortunately that wasn't
possible.

Ajax's eyes were calling for blood, were calling for the blood of
Hector, who sat on the ground behind him and that was something the
blond hero couldn't allow. He had decided that the Trojan prince was
his, even if he didn't accept it yet, and Achilles always defended
what belonged to him.

“Ajax.” Achilles' voice was sure and firm as he
addressed his opponent. “It is good to finally meet you in a
real battle. At least this time I won't have to hold myself back.”
The grin that followed his speech was on the verge of cockiness and
he could practically see the anger in Ajax rising. That had always
been the larger man's weak spot, his temper often getting the better
of him during a fight.

If their fight had been a pure measuring of strength Achilles
wouldn't have been so sure that he could win, but in their battle a
skilled blade and speed would be the deciding factors and Ajax tended
to ignore skill in favor of brute strength whenever heated anger
overcame his rational mind.

And just like Achilles had anticipated he rushed forward, his
hammer sailing towards his opponent. But he was too slow and the huge
weapon hit nothing but dirt. The unthinking attack had left Ajax's
defenses wide open and the blond used his chance, sinking his blade
through the sturdy leather of the larger man's armor.

Blood spilled from the wound as he pulled his sword back out,
ducking just in time to avoid another swing of Ajax's hammer. What he
hadn't anticipated was, that instead of stopping and launching a
fresh attack Ajax simply used the momentum the hammer already had and
turned a full circle. This time Achilles wasn't quick enough and the
huge hammer slammed into his side, throwing him a few meters and
forcing the air out of his suddenly compressed lungs.

The force of the blow should have broken bones, but his god-made
armor protected him. Pain once again surged through his body, as he
hit the ground, but it was only a momentary annoyance, during the few
seconds he needed to regain his breath.

During this short moment Ajax had once again advanced on Hector,
who hadn't yet gotten on his feet again. Achilles hoped, that he was
only too powered out to get up again and not permanently and
seriously damaged. It would be a shame if such a beautiful warrior
would become an invalid. Even death would be better than that.

Once again concentrating on his fight, Achilles called out to
Ajax, whose attention immediately shifted back to him. But this time
it was the Greek giant, who was too slow to avoid the blow, that
Achilles sword delivered to his stomach. The blade sliced through his
armor like butter and sunk deep into his stomach, but Ajax hadn't yet
given himself up. He still fought, even though blood already spilled
from his mouth. Trying to grab the blade, he sliced his hands open,
but Achilles didn't give him a chance to pull it out, driving it
deeper instead.

In a last attempt to free himself Ajax bloody hands wrapped around
Achilles throat and brought them even closer together. Blood and spit
flew from the Greek's lips, hitting Achilles' face, while Ajax
struggled with the sword in his belly. His hands wound themselves a
little tighter around the blond's throat and slowly, but surely,
Achilles felt his air become short. But that only urged him to drive
his sword deeper into Ajax's body, so deep, that only the hilt was
still outside and thick blood sluggishly poured over his hands.

And then finally the Greek giant's eyes rolled back into his head
and he sank to the ground, defeated by Achilles. Cheers rose up, all
around them, but the blond Myrmidon was completely deaf to them. The
praise of his fellow warriors, which usually meant so much to him,
was meaningless at the moment. The only thing he cared about was the
Trojan prince, still lying on the bloodied sand.

Now that the battle between Achilles and Ajax was finally over
Hector once again tried to get onto his feet. His ribs started to
hurt worse, even though he moved as carefully as possible. Grating
his teeth hard he forced the pain and the ensuing urge to vomit down,
while he slowly rose to a crouch and then stood up. His vision
instantly started to blur and his head spun, black spots dancing in
front of his eyes, while his legs threatened to give out again. He
resigned himself to another hard impact on the ground as his legs
crumbled, but before he could fall he was caught in Achilles' arms.

On one hand he was glad that the Greek had caught him, but on the
other he feared an arrogant comment about his defeat. He wasn't sure
if he could take another blow to his injured pride, so he tried to
struggle out of the other man's arms. His attempt was close to
completely useless, since the only thing that it accomplished was
that Achilles pulled him a little tighter to his body and finally
whispered in his ear. “If I let go of you, you'll fall. Do you
really want to make that kind of spectacle out of yourself.”

It wasn't by any means what Achilles really had wanted to say, but
somehow the words had spilled out of his mouth, before he had managed
to find a way to take the sting out of them. Oh well, at least they
had accomplished what he had wanted, since the Trojan had surrendered
himself with a soft sigh and a very tight expression on his face.
Whether it was the pain or the humiliation of being defeated Achilles
couldn't tell, but he planned on finding out, as soon as he had the
other man out of the battle field.

Achilles grabbed one of the horses, that must have lost it's rider
during the still ongoing fight and heaved the fortunately not
protesting Hector on it's back. As soon as the Trojan prince sat
satisfyingly safe in the saddle, Achilles too mounted the horse.
Sitting behind Hector he let one of his arms wrap around the other
man's body, while his free hand steered the horse.

The fighting bodies parted to make him way, only a few Greek
soldiers not smart enough to get out of his path. Their bones
crunched sickeningly, as they broke under the horse's hoofs, but
Achilles ignored the sound. They had come halfway back to the walls
of Troy, when Hector's head sunk back against his shoulder, his eyes
closed.

The Trojan prince was still fighting the sickness and dizziness
that raged in his head, but closing his eyes and resting his head on
the other man's shoulder made it easier. Usually he would have been
far too proud, to accept the Greek's help so pliantly, but his body
was injured and refused all of his attempts to protest. So he simply
accepted his fate and encouraged by the horse's rocking motions,
slowly allowed himself to sink into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gates of Troy parted before him, allowing him to thunder
through without having to slow his horse down. Achilles ignored the
curious gazes the bystanders shot him as he rode past them, the
prince of Troy leaned against his chest. He knew that he should ride
towards the palace and the watchtower, that was perched high upon the
wall, from which the royal family watched and deliver Hector to the
caring arms of his wife, so that she may tend to his injuries.

But his possessiveness and will to make the prince his, caused him
to turn his horse the other way, towards the Myrmidons' quarters. He
would tend to Hector himself and maybe there would be a chance to
convince the other man, that he could be more than just a loose ally.

Sliding down from his horse as he reached his rooms, Achilles
almost started to grin as he noticed that Hector remained on the tall
steed, deeply asleep. He lifted the Trojan down, careful to not wake
him up, while he carried him towards his bed. Eros really was one of
the sneakier gods, making his heart swell just from looking at the
dark-haired prince, entranced by his beauty.

Laying the other man down on his bed, Achilles sat down next to
him and watched his chest move in slow, deep breaths. He still wore
his blood splattered armor, the grime of a long day of fighting now
also staining the once clean sheets of the bed he rested on. Achilles
thought about peeling it off his body and tending to his injuries,
but that might have woken the prince and that was something the blond
still longed to avoid at the moment. He wanted to enjoy the peace
that just sitting next to Hector brought him, wanted to let his hands
card through the thick locks just a little longer.

He doubted that the Trojan would allow these caresses once he was
awake. During the last days, he had constantly provoked the prince
for his own amusement, but now the gods seemed to punish him for his
humor, since the man he desperately wanted, loathed him for the way
he had acted. He could of course have held himself back, but his
pride had won in the end, making him demonstrate his superiority time
and time again.

There wasn't a single chance to needle the Trojan that he hadn't
taken and now he payed the price. It was probably Eros' revenge for
all the hearts he had carelessly broken and the past lovers he had
left behind without a single thought.

Sighing Achilles peeled himself out of his armor, setting it to
rest in a corner of the room. Blood was crusted all over the shiny,
golden surface, but at the moment he didn't feel like polishing it.
Instead he simply walked over to the washing basin and cleaned the
blood and dirt of his body, drying himself off, before he turned
towards the window and watched the sun slowly descend towards the
horizon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing Hector felt when he woke up was the pain, that
seemed to stem from every single part of his body. He kept his eyes
closed, focusing on the pain and trying to make it disappear by his
will alone. It took him a moment to remember what had happened, but
then it all came back to him. The battle, Ajax, the pain as the
hammer had slammed into his body, Achilles protecting him and
carrying him back towards the city. Why? Why had the Greek warrior
felt the need to do so?

They were allies, that much was true, but that wasn't reason
enough to protect somebody. By the rules of war, those who were too
weak to fight for themselves deserved to die. The only ones one
protected during a fight were family members and loved ones. To
Achilles he was neither. So why hadn't the Greek allowed Ajax to
smash him?

There was that tiny, puzzling voice at the back of his mind that
told him that he should know the answer, that he had already deducted
it, that it was apparent from the rules of fighting. But that was
absolute foolishness. They had shared a night, but that didn't make
them lovers, not by a long shot. There was too much enmity, too much
competition between them for that. And even if he had wanted them to
be lovers, Achilles had made it clear that he had no respect for him,
neither for his position nor for his skill on the battle field. Love
without respect could never be.

Hector ignored the voice in his head, that asked him if he wanted
it to be love, because that wasn't the point. He had yearned for an
equal to love, but Achilles could never be that for him, because the
Greek didn't see them as equal. Hector sighed. There was no point to
these thoughts. The only thing that should matter at the moment was
to find out how the Trojan army was doing in battle and get back to
it in case they needed him. Everything else could wait.

Slowly opening his eyes, Hector blinked into the sinking sun,
surprised to find himself not in his own bed, but in the Greek's
quarters instead. Achilles stood by the window, his back turned
towards the bed and obviously deep in thought. The Trojan prince
couldn't risk the temptation to study the beautiful, godlike body,
that was hidden by nothing but a small towel, that had been slung
around a perfect waist. His former resolve was completely erased by
the red sunlight that spilled over defined muscles and hair that
shimmered golden in the evening light.

Suddenly Achilles turned around and Hector had to fight the urge
to look away, feeling a little like he had done something forbidden.
There was a strange expression spread over the Greek's features, an
expression Hector had never seen before. The slight smile that curled
around his lips was almost boyish, but when he started to speak, his
voice had the same deep, seductive timbre it had always held. “What
is the matter, prince?”

Hector expected to feel anger at the provocative question, but to
his utter surprise he remained calm. He rose from the bed, still
wearing the bloody armor and approached the Greek. A few steps and he
stood directly in front of Achilles, almost close enough to touch.
His voice was soft, almost a little insecure as he asked the question
that burned on his tongue.

“Why?”

TBC...
- 11
- 12
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Changing fate