Divine Inspiration | By : LuckyPanda13 Category: S through Z > Troy Views: 5268 -:- 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. |
“What are you doing out by your lonesome, prince?” One Greek asked, not relaxing his grip on his bow.
“I am no longer a prince.” I replied, my voice destroyed by all the panicked screaming I had been doing. “I have been exiled.”
“Ha! Like Priam’s dumb enough to shove off his best commander.” A third man snorted. “I say we take him back to Agamemnon. I’m sure he’ll figure out what’s going on.”
“Come on, prince.” The first Greek got off his horse and approached me with a length of rope. “No funny business, now.” I couldn’t think of a way to get away from the men without getting shot by the one with the bow before the man wrapped the rope around my wrists tightly. He took the torch from me and attached the other end of the rope to his saddle.
“Let’s go.” I stumbled along behind the horse, hoping Odysseus would be watching what was happening so I wouldn’t remain in Agamemnon’s company for long. We broke over the dunes and the sight of the Greek camps made my stomach clench. I had seen them from afar for nearly a decade, but getting up close and personal was not something I ever expected to experience. Greeks came out of their tents, eyeing me warily and blinking at the shock as they recognized me. I spotted Patroclus sitting next to a fire alone. He looked up and when his eyes met mine, they widened in shock. Immediately, he sprinted away, likely to get his cousin and relief filled me. Any sort of ally in Agamemnon’s tent would do.
“Inside, Trojan.” My captors dismounted from their horses and led me into the largest tent in the camp.
“What is the meaning of th–” Agamemnon silenced when I was shoved forward. I stumbled with the motion, but didn’t fall. I straightened my back and looked Agamemnon in the eye. “Well, if it isn’t Hector, the Crown Prince of Troy.” He sneered at me.
“Actually,” I smiled back, “I’ve been exiled. I’m not even considered Trojan anymore.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Agamemnon frowned. “Priam isn’t stupid enough to exile the only hope his city has.”
“Well, you might want to tell him that.” I replied. “Because he’s under the impression that I’m an exile.”
“Watch your mouth, boy!” Agamemnon pulled his hand back to hit me and I ducked, shoving my tied up fists into his gut. He went down with a loud curse and I took advantage of that, kicking him violently. I don’t know what happened to all of my tact and diplomacy, but all I wanted was my son. I didn’t have time to entertain Agamemnon’s pride. There were more important things to do. My captors yelled in surprise and used the rope to yank me away from their king. I spun with the motion, hitting the bowman in the face with the heel of my foot.
“Get him!” Someone yelled. I continued fighting, easily overpowering the guards who came to Agamemnon’s rescue even with my hands tied. I managed to get the rope itself away from the Greeks, so they couldn’t tug me around anymore. I got several more hits in on the king before someone stepped between me and the Greek king.
“Halt this madness.” Odysseus said, loudly enough to take control of the room. Everyone stopped. Agamemnon, face purple with rage, sputtered loudly in protest and wiped the blood from his nose away.
“Why are you here, Odysseus?” He asked angrily.
“I’m here for Hector.” Odysseus said simply. “You see, he came here at my bidding in order to discuss the peace between my men and his.”
“There will be no peace!” Agamemnon roared.
“Maybe not for you.” Odysseus smiled. “But Hector is my guest in these camps. You’ve taken liberties with kidnapping him and tying him up, but I’ve claimed guest rights for him. Please release him from his bonds.”
“No need.” I muttered, finally getting the rope untied. I had been working on it throughout the duration of the fight.
“Wonderful.” Odysseus turned to me. “We’ll just be on our way, then.”
“Hold on!” Agamemnon snapped. “He’s my prisoner!”
“He’s my guest.” Odysseus replied wryly. “We’re negotiating peace.”
“He can’t negotiate anything!” Agamemnon argued. “He’s an exile!”
“Oh, did he tell you that, then?” Odysseus smirked. “Funny, with all your hatred for Trojans, you sure do believe their stories.” Odysseus led me from the tent before Agamemnon could come with a reply. Immediately outside the tent stood Achilles, Patroclus, Ajax, the Myrmidons, and all of Odysseus’ men in a large mob. Odysseus quickly shoved me into the group just as Agamemnon exited his tent with his guards behind him, furious. The group of Greeks surrounded me, creating a large wall between myself and any of Agamemnon’s men.
“Give him back! He is a prisoner!” Agamemnon snapped. I couldn’t see any of the leaders anymore, but the men around me snickered softly.
“I dare you to take him back.” Odysseus replied. “If so, prepare yourself for a rebellion, Agamemnon. If not, go back to your tent and eat some grapes or something.” Ajax started leading Odysseus’ men back to their side of the camp. The Greeks gestured for me to go with them, still encircled by their protective barrier. I could still hear Agamemnon arguing loudly with Odysseus and Odysseus being snarky right back when the Greeks around me started sniggering loudly.
“I don’t know what you did to piss Agamemnon off, prince,” One man looked at me with a grin, “But it’s fucking hilarious.”
“Did you see the bloody nose that moron had?” Another man spoke up. “Did you do that, prince?” I nodded, a little bit confused as to what was going on. I knew Patroclus was the reason I had been saved, but it was weird to be having friendly conversation with men I had been murdering for years and had just been fighting hours previous.
“Thank you for your help!” Ajax called to the men as we were safely ensconced in Odysseus’ territory. The men, still laughing about Agamemnon, departed from my company to go back to their tents, Ajax approached me and offered his hand. I shook it, still very lost. He looked me over. “You’re covered in blood. Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Hector!” Patroclus joined us, a little out of breath from running to catch up. “Are you hurt?”
“I just asked him that.” Ajax rolled his eyes.
“No, I’m fine.” I looked at the young man, who smiled at my words.
“Good. I’m Patroclus.” I shook his hand. “You spared me the other day.”
“I’m aware. I believe we are now even, since you’re the reason Odysseus, Achilles, and Ajax came to my aid.” I replied.
“There was nothing else to do.” Patroclus shrugged. “We try to keep all the prisoners from Agamemnon, because he’s a tyrant. Besides, I couldn’t fight off all your captors at once by myself, so I needed back up. I’m good, but not that good, yet.”
“You’re fighting is good, but very impatient and reckless.” I replied. Ajax laughed heartily as Patroclus’ face fell.
“That’s what Achilles says every time we spar.”
“That’s because it’s true.” Odysseus joined our group, followed closely by Achilles.
“The Myrmidons are going to stand watch around our camps for the next couple hours, just in case Agamemnon tries something stupid.” Achilles announced.
“Good.” Ajax nodded sagely.
“Now, if I might ask, why are you covered in blood, Hector? Also, why did you decide to traipse into our camps at night?” Odysseus looked me over, as did Achilles, who was frowning at the sight of blood covering me.
“My wife was murdered.” I don’t know how I got the words out, but they hurt less every time I said them. I looked at Achilles. “Someone was trying to frame you for it. I disagreed with the circumstantial evidence and my father exiled me.”
“What about your son?” Achilles asked, interrupting me. “Is he unhurt?”
“He took my son away. I need to get back into Troy so I can get Astyanax back.” I answered, unsure how to take Achilles’ concern for my son.
“Oh, gods.” Ajax swore. “How dumb is Priam?”
“Pretty damn dumb.” Odysseus, Achilles, and I chorused.
“The murderer had my dagger, didn’t he?” Achilles asked me. I nodded.
“My son was in the room and saw a Trojan guard enter. He hid under the bed and the man killed my wife and left. The fact that Astyanax was left alive in addition to what he saw is the biggest evidence against the dagger.” I explained. “I don’t know who–”
“Pedasus.” Odysseus interrupted me.
“What?”
“Your guardsman, Pedasus, did it.” He replied. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up and find you somewhere to sleep. Nothing can be done tonight, the palace is on too high of an alert. Also, I have a plan to stop the fighting once and for all tomorrow. All I have to do is adapt it slightly to get you your son and crown back.”
“I don’t care about my crown.” I frowned. “How do you know it was Pedasus? What’s your plan for tomorrow? How am I going to get my son back? When did you–” Achilles’ hand came up and covered my mouth, a large smirk on his lips. I abruptly realized that it was a mockery of our coupling in the forest and flushed.
“You ask too many questions, Trojan.” Achilles said. “Odysseus will tell us in due time.”
“I’ll tell you tonight, if you wish.” Odysseus shrugged. “But I’d rather not in the open and especially not when you’re covered in your dead wife’s blood.”
“I’m not technically a Trojan anymore, Greek.” I snapped, freeing my lips from his palm with a shake of my head.
“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” Ajax chuckled. “There’s more than one Greek here.”
“I was operating under the assumption that it was an understood statement towards the individual who had called me ‘Trojan’, since that was the statement I was responding to.” I replied. “Apparently, that assumption was wrong.”
“Just because he’s a prince,” Odysseus sniggered at Ajax’s dumbstruck face, “Doesn’t mean he’s not snarky.”
“Shut up.” Ajax pouted and stomped off to his tent.
“You hurt his feelings.” Achilles smirked.
“Sometimes his pride needs to get pricked.” Odysseus shrugged. “Not unlike three other men I know.” He eyed Patroclus, Achilles, and I. “But that is for another time. Patroclus, would you be so kind as to fetch fresh water for our guest to wash himself with?” The young man ran off, happily doing his duty. It was likely a better chore than the ones Achilles had him running for stealing his armor and fighting in his stead. I shook my head. I hoped for my own sake that my son never ended up as impatient and reckless as Achilles’ young cousin.
“Watch out!” Someone yelled. We all spun to see a horse wildly panicking, running straight towards us. Instantly, Odysseus and Achilles leapt aside. I stood my ground and caught ahold of the horse’s neck, swinging up onto its back with practiced ease. The mare tried to throw me, bucking madly, but I kept my seat, patiently waiting for her to tire out. When she stopped trying to knock me off, I started petting her and murmuring soothing Greek words into her ear. While it wasn’t my native tongue, Greek was still easy for me to converse in, though my accent was still atrociously obvious. The scent of blood wasn’t helping my cause to calm her, but I still managed to quiet the mare down. She huffed, annoyed that I had talked her out of her panic. I waited until she snorted compliantly before sliding off her back and holding her steady while a Greek tied a rope around her neck.
“Now I know why you’re called ‘tamer of horses’.” Achilles approached me with aroused appreciation in his eyes as the mare was taken away, snickering unhappily.
“And you had the nerve to doubt.” Gods, what was it with the man that made me flirt?!
“Well, now that that excitement is over with,” Odysseus smirked at Achilles and me, "I think we should go to bed.”
“But what about Pedasus?” I asked.
“Well, I could tell you tonight, but it’s getting rather late and tomorrow will be a long day. So, we should all get our rest tonight.” Odysseus said. “I’ll go check on Ajax to make sure he isn’t that offended. Achilles, will you ensure our guest is well taken care of? He’ll need to bathe, eat, and a safe place to sleep.”
“Of course,” Achilles’ smirk made my stomach clench, “I am aware how to care for guests.”
“Because you have so many of them.” Odysseus teased, departing from our company.
“Could have fooled me.” I muttered, feeling anxiety fill me as the king walked away. I wanted to call him back, so I wasn’t left alone with Achilles, but the king had placed me in his mercy.
“Come, little princeling,” Achilles led me to his tent, smirking broadly.
“I’d like to dispute the ‘little’.” I muttered, feeling my face flush. “You know from experience that’s a lie.”
“Do I?” Achilles help the tent flap open, eyebrow quirked and smirk firmly in place. Annoyance flashed through me, so I leaned closer to the Greek, smirking myself. My lips brushed against his ear and a shiver slid up the warrior’s spine.
“The way you begged for more indicated that much.” Achilles stiffened and I ducked into the tent, chuckling to myself. The proud and arrogant man was surprisingly easy to shock and knock off his high horse. My thoughts halted abruptly as I looked around. I was surprised how ornate the inside of the tent was. There was more stuffed into Achilles’ tent than there was in my rooms at the palace. Pillows and incense filled the area and there was actually a bed in the tent. I blinked and stared dumbly at the area, trying to figure out where I could escape from.
“Bring it in, then get some rest.” I turned to the tent flap at Achilles’ voice. Patroclus almost ran into me with a bucket of water.
“Thank you.” I said. Patroclus shot me a smile and backed out the tent without a word. Achilles entered, shutting the flap with a snap and tying it off. He turned to face me and hesitated.
“Patroclus, ‘go rest’ means ‘go away’.” A soft curse outside the tent was followed by footsteps walking away. “Have a seat, prince.” Achilles gestured at the bed and walked over to a large basin. Stubbornly, I sat on a group of pillows as far from the bed as possible. Achilles turned around, cloth in hand and rolled his eyes when he spotted my sitting place.
“You are so utterly frustrating.” He dragged the bucket of water closer and sat next to me.
“At least you’ve admitted I’m anything but ‘little’.” I replied.
“You realize that you’re going to have to take this off, right?” Achilles tugged gently on my bloody chiton. I mentally cursed and fought the blush that emerged. Refusing to look at Achilles, I stood and tugged the cloth off my body before dumping it on the floor and sitting down again. I sat silently, waiting for Achilles to hand me the washcloth. I made the mistake of looking at Achilles when he didn’t move. His eyes dilated and focused entirely on my chest. His tongue darted out and wet his lips. I cleared my throat and his eyes flickered up to mine, dark with lust. He smirked and seemed to regain some form of control over himself because he dipped the washcloth into water bucket and started washing the dried blood from my skin.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice soft for reasons I couldn’t name.
“Cleaning you.” Achilles whispered in reply.
“I can do it myself.” Achilles’ eyes met mine as if to say “shut up and let me do this” and I stopped arguing. He washed my skin dutifully and efficiently, drawing gooseflesh across my body as it came into contact with the cool water. His eyes lingered on every inch of freshly exposed bronze skin that he cleaned. When he finished clearing the blood from me, he took the bucket outside and dumped it. I stood up and eyed the bloody chiton on the floor.
“You can wear one of mine.” Achilles said, returning to the tent and following my gaze. “That’s ruined.” He picked it up and tossed it with the bucket outside. He turned back around and gave me a once over.
“Why are you so obsessed with me?” Our voices had remained in soft murmurs.
“Because we are two sides of the same coin.” Achilles replied quietly. “We are great warriors with an extensive knowledge in fighting and a desire for control and domination. Where you are honorable, I am arrogant. Where you are amiable, I am prideful. Where you are dutiful, I am insubordinate. I admire you for your traits, Hector, though I am unashamed to admit that if it wasn’t for a particular god, I would have even noticed that admiration.”
“A god?” I didn’t realize he had been stalking towards me until he paused a breath from me. I retreated, feeling more vulnerable than I’d ever felt, and it wasn’t my nakedness.
“He wished to remain unnamed.” Achilles shrugged. “In the shadows, so to speak.”
Hades. I nodded to the warrior to signal that I understood which god he spoke of and thought hard. What did Hades want with Achilles and me? Was he trying to keep us alive and out of his power or was he trying to kill us faster? Given that Achilles and I hadn’t died yet, I guessed, and hoped, that it was the former.
“Why are you so obsessed with me?” Achilles asked. I opened my mouth to argue with him, but his eyes flashed as if to say “I dare you to deny it”.
“I don’t know.” I replied finally. “Andromache was a dutiful wife and an excellent mother for Astyanax. I did love her and I do miss her, but she was simple. I always knew how to care for her and make her happy. She didn’t challenge me in any respect, and, for a while, that was what I wanted. Then, I heard you were coming to Troy to fight. You had always been a bit of an enigma for me. Could I beat you in battle? What type of a warrior would you be? What type of a leader would you be? What type of a person would you be?” I ran my fingers through my hair nervously, belatedly realizing that the tie had long since fallen out. The dark curls were tangled and it was a little painful to even get my fingers through the mane. “I’ve been in battle every day for nearly a decade, honing my skills for the fight we were inevitably going to have. I respected you as a warrior, I admired your looks,” A blush stained my cheeks, “But I couldn’t say why I desperately wanted our coupling in the forest, especially with a beautiful wife waiting for me at home.”
“I see.” Achilles stalked closer and closer to me as I spoke, reminding me abruptly of the sensation of feeling like prey. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but I was tired of running. I was tired to denying myself what I wanted. I wanted my city back. I wanted to punch my father in the face. I wanted my son. I wanted the war to end. I wanted him. I grabbed his chiton and dragged him forward, kissing him deeply. I put all of me into that kiss, hoping Achilles could understand what I was trying to convey. I didn’t want just another fuck in the woods. I didn’t want rough and fast and more, more, more. I didn’t want to force him into taking all of me for my own pleasure. I wanted Achilles in all his glory. I wanted his skin under my fingers and lips. I wanted to make him want me. I wanted him.
My mind refused to dwell on the implications of such thoughts.
Mere days before, we had been enemies, striving to kill as many warriors as possible to help our side win. The flirting, though, had always been present. For nearly a decade, our fighting skills teased and tormented each other, playfully showing off how talented we were. The romance had snuck in deviously a few scant days before my life was destroyed, but our bodies slick with sweat, grinding together sensually in a desperate need for more, more, more, had been years in the making.
“I thought you regretted what happened.” Achilles breathed hard against my lips, pressing our foreheads together.
“I lied.” My hands found his ass and dragged our hips together, relishing in the friction it granted. Achilles growled wordlessly and hauled me to his bed. He shoved me down and quickly yanked his clothes off.
“I will never admit, in a thousand years of torture, that your accent is the sexiest thing I have ever heard.” Achilles’ voice was gruff as he crawled over me. Brief fear flickered through me at being beneath him, but I shoved it away. I wanted. More than I had ever wanted in my life. He had bottomed for my pleasure, so it was only right to grant him the same privilege, especially since he came to my aid and was planning on helping me get my son back. I ignored the little voice in the back of my mind that pointed out how much I wanted to feel him fill me.
“I think you just did.” I smirked. I may have accidentally-on-purpose let my accent thicken just to see the slivers of control snap. Achilles bent his head and breathed in my scent, touching his nose to my neck as his whole body shivered with pleasure.
“You think too much.” His voice promised sinful pleasure and a nervous tension started to build in my gut.
“Would you like me to stop?” I teased, flicking my tongue against his ear. Okay, so thickening my accent was completely on purpose, but visually seeing Achilles lose control was definitely worth it. He kissed me deeply, burying his fingers in my hair and grinding our hips together. I groaned at the friction and slid my fingers into his silky golden locks. He pulled back slightly, his dark gaze focused on me.
“You talk too much.” He growled.
“You like it.” I threw at him.
“How can you tell?” His hips rolled and a surprised groan was startled from my throat.
“No idea.” I replied. “Perhaps you’ll have to show me.”
“Perhaps?” Achilles chuckled. “Are you expecting some other activity?”
“I’m expecting you to fuck me,” I retorted with a grin, “But you seem too busy being a smartass about it to do anything.” The curse made Achilles jerk and the insult made his eyes narrow.
“I’ll show you–”
“You keep promising that, but I don’t see any action happening.” I was taunting my captor and I was enjoying it. Even though it was always enjoyable, sex with my wife was never fun. There was never laughter when Andromache and I slept together and I didn’t even realize that it was a possibility until I was teasing Achilles and startling laughter from both of us. Achilles growled wordlessly and kiss me deeply, sliding between my legs and grinding our erections together. He dropped his face to my neck, biting hard. The mark on his neck had not yet healed, so I happily claimed the mark he was painting on me.
“What is it with us and pain?” Achilles growled against my neck.
“Achilles.” The man above me froze at my groan and I realized that I had never said his name to him. A sense of power welled in my chest and I grinned. A long, slow shudder wracked his body for a moment.
“Fuck.” He bit my neck hard, rolling our hips together in pleasure.
“Fuck me.” I ordered, pulling my legs up and tightening my fingers painfully in his hair.
“So demanding.” Achilles tried to chuckle, but his arousal clouded his voice.
“If you don’t, I will.” I threatened.
“Fuck, Hector.” The warrior groaned above me.
“Achilles.” My accent came out in full force and the Greek lost all semblance of control, pressing into me obediently. The stretching pain was by no means the worst pain I had ever experienced and, instead of being deterred, it was only more arousing for me. Despite all that, Achilles moved slowly, trying to ease the pain. I was having none of it. My legs wrapped around his waist and tugged, shoving him in to the hilt. I groaned at the sensation of being filled and wanted. Achilles shifted his position so he could have better leverage against me and his erection touched something deep inside me that made my whole body tense with pleasure.
Every movement – every thrust, every kiss, every touch – after that dragged some noise of approval from my throat. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the brink of oblivion and I simultaneously hated and adored it. I wanted to have my release, but at the same time I just wanted to continue with the pleasure. Achilles kissed me deeply, his pace moving faster and harder as his pleasure took control of his body. I arched my back into his thrusts, aiding his desperate need for fulfillment. I don’t know how long it lasted, but a whine emerged from my chest as my orgasm snuck up on me, throwing me into blissful blackness abruptly.
“Fuck.” Achilles muttered, his whole body shaking. My vision returned and I realized that the Greek hadn’t been far behind me. We stayed there, trying to calm our quivering muscles and heaving chests for a long time before we separated our forms. My seed was splattered all over both of our chests and his was dripping from me. Achilles rolled off me and grabbed a cloth that had been strewn on the floor, cleaning the evidence of our coupling from his chest before tossing it at me. I cleansed my body of the semen and threw the rag back at him, snickering as it nearly hit him in the face.
“Getting slow, Achilles?” I smirked.
“You seemed to like slow just as much as fast.” Achilles retorted, lounging on the bed was a groan of satisfaction.
“If only to soothe your ego.” I replied. Achilles chuckled.
“Did you mean what you said?” He asked.
“That’s you’re getting slow?” I glanced at him, allowing my body to relax on his bed.
“No.” He chuckled again before his face slid into seriousness. “You lied about regretting it the first time?”
“Oh.” I returned my gaze to the top of the tent, hoping he wasn’t looking at me. “Yeah.”
“What?” The bed shifted and damn him for making me blush.
“I lied.” I clarified, ignoring how my face was turning bright red. “I didn’t regret anything. If I could go back and redo that day, I wouldn’t change anything.”
“Why did you lie?” He asked.
“Because of all the reasons I told you.” I replied. “I had a wife and a duty to her and responsibilities and such. I have none of the above now.”
“You still have Astyanax.” Achilles pointed out softly.
“He’s the only reason I haven’t quitted this land completely.” I replied. “He’s so gentle and young. He wouldn’t know the first thing about caring for himself. Once I have him back, I will leave. If I cannot be Troy’s guardian, I should not be near her.”
“You could fight for the Greeks.” Achilles pointed out. I gave him a look. He shrugged and held his hands up in surrender, recognizing how dumb the statement had been.
“I could stay and help ease the tension of one particular Greek.” I suggested. “But I wouldn’t be able to do anything else without betraying my homeland completely.”
“That sounds perfect.” Achilles grinned. “Now all we need is to get Astyanax back so we can get rid of tension together.”
“There’s always the rest of tonight.” I pointed out, a wry grin on my features. Almost immediately, Achilles was back on top of me, kissing me hungrily, and his lust obviously returning with a vengeance while I laughed into his lips.
That evening was spent alternating between sleep and coupling with the Greek warrior.
Thanks for reading! Special thanks to Tinka, my only reviewer! Don’t fret, my readers! Everything will work itself out in the end. Or will it… Muahahaha! Nah, everything will work out.
Thanks!
~LP
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