The Pain of Paris | By : Agarwaenloth Category: S through Z > Troy Views: 7179 -:- 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. |
Disclaimer: See Prologue.
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A/N: Okay, I’m creating an update list for this story, if you want to be on it, let me know and give me your e-mail address. Also, henceforth, the amount of reviews I get will determine which story of mine I update first. This isn’t an attempt to get more reviews, but rather a way for me to know which story my readers want me to focus on more.
The Pain of Paris
Chapter 2
Hector walked toward the dinner hall seething silently. He had waited as long as he could for Paris to come to his rooms so that they could arrive at dinner together, but he had not shown up. He didn’t blame his brother. He may have forgotten the way to his rooms. No, he wasn’t angry at his brother, but at Menelaus. He had to have put Paris in a room some distance from Hector because all of the rooms next to his were empty.
Praying Paris was already there, Hector strode into the dining hall. His eyes darted around the room, but he could not see the lithe form of his lover anywhere. He sighed and made his way toward his seat near the king.
As time slipped by, Hector became worried. Where was Paris? Why was he not here? Surely he was not lost. Paris usually had a very good sense of direction. Speaking of which, was it not odd that Paris was not able to find his rooms earlier? He should have had no problems, meaning he should have met Hector before dinner. What was going on?
He was interrupted from his thoughts by a servant boy standing nervously, waiting for Menelaus’ permission to speak. At a wave of the Spartan king’s hand, the boy timidly said, “My Lords, the Prince Paris of Troy offers his apologies, but says he is unwell and cannot attend the meal.” The servant bowed and quickly scuttled out of sight.
This unsettled Hector greatly. Paris would not have forgone dinner without telling him first. Unwell? He was perfectly fine beforehand, other than his melancholy and apprehension.
Hector glanced at Menelaus. He did not seem surprised at the servant boy’s message. Indeed, he looked as he were expecting it. This did not bode well with Hector. He wanted to run to his brother and make sure he was unharmed, but he knew that he could not. For one, he didn’t know where Paris’ rooms were, and for two, he knew that if Menelaus did do anything, he wa con control here. If Paris were hurt in anyway, Hector could do nothing. The army of Sparta was at Menelaus’ command here, and they had no one but the few soldiers his father had sent with them. The situation was dire indeed.
The meal commenced with no major mishaps, and as soon as he could, Hector excused himself. He had to get to Paris.
* * * * *
Paris lay curled up in a fetal position on the bed which Menelaus had left him on. He felt disgusting. He had allowed Menelaus to have him in a way which no one but Hector was allowed. He whimpered. What would Hector think of him now? Would he still want him? How could he after what had happened? Would he be forced to stay in this wretched city? If he left, he would be putting Troy in danger. If he didn’t leave, he would surely kill himself. But what was his life, for the safety of Troy? He didn’t know what to do. Hector was bound to find out. Selfishly, he half-hoped he would just so he could make the decision that Paris was loathed to make.
He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of the door opening and shutting. ‘Oh, please, don’t let it be Menelaus. I can’t take it again. Please, if any god or goddess is listening, have mercy on me!’ He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the person approach him. He felt a hand caress his arm and flinched away from the touch.
Hector’s heart cried out as Paris recoiled from his touch. The sight of his beautiful brother in pain tore agonizingly at his heartstrings. The fear in his face as he desperately kept his eyes shut was too much to bear.
“Paris…”
He snapped his eyes open and looked up at his brother. When Hector went to touch him again, he shied away from him. “Do not defile yourself by laying hands upon me, brother,” he stated, looking away in despair.
Rage toward the man who did this to his lover ignited within Hector. How dare Menelaus touch a Prince of Troy in such a manner? He had no right! However, his rage did not help his brother any at the moment, and he quickly suppressed it.
“There is no defilement to be had in me touching you, my love. You are still as perfect as you always were,” he stated, turning Paris’ face toward his and forcing him to look him in the eye. “You have done nothing, this is Menelaus’ doing. And I swear to you, in the name of all the gods and goddesses of Mt. Olympus, he will pay!”
“But Hector…the peace talks…Troy…I couldn’t jeopardize the safety of our country if I leave. Menelaus will have Agamemnon to march upon Troy,” Paris sobbed.
“Shh, if you don’t leave, it will show them that we are afraid of them and give them the advantage. Even if that weren’t the true, I would not leave you here and Father would most definitely not want it so,” Hector reassured, cradling his younger brother in his arms.
“But Menelaus’ army, how are we to escape?” Paris asked tearfully.
“We will leave tonight, as soon as possible. It will not be expected.” Hector looked into Paris’ eyes with a mixture of love and worry. “We must get you out of here. I will not let you suffer anymore from that man.”
tbc
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