Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

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
- 5
- 6
- 7
The following morning, the Greeks prepared for battle, like always, though Odysseus miraculously talked Agamemnon into waiting for him to speak with Priam before war would be waged on the field. I’m not sure how he managed it, but I couldn’t complain. Achilles provided me with the plainest chiton he had, granting me some separation from the Greeks I walked with to the battlefield. I refused the armor and weapons he offered me and spent a good hour arguing with him about it until Odysseus stepped in. Achilles was not pleased that the King of Ithaca took my side. If I showed up in Greek armor with Greek weapons, Troy would never take me back. I didn’t think Troy would take me back at all, but Odysseus was confident they would.
The walk to the battlefield was almost identical to the Trojan one: filled with jokes and overly masculine mini-competitions. Only it was all in Greek instead of Luwian. I was flanked by Achilles and Ajax with Patroclus not far behind us. Achilles had agreed to let the young man fit in today’s battle, likely because he wanted more people protecting me, especially because of my lack of armor and weapons. I stopped talking as we left the beaches, my heart in my throat. I had to save Astyanax. That was my only thought. Achilles wisely said nothing to me as we marched to meet the Trojan line. Much to my surprise, my father stood at the center of the Trojan line, Paris at one shoulder and my struggling son at the other. Astyanax was desperate to get away from the man, which made me smile. The boy had somehow found his strength. Priam wore his full armor while Astyanax wore only the clothes from the day before. Anger filled me. Priam would bring a child to the field of battle and not find something to protect the child?!
“What the fuck is your father doing?” Achilles growled. “Astyanax is only a boy!”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to murder him.” Ajax replied. The vehemence in their statements startled me. I stepped in front of the line of Greeks, calling everyone’s attention to me. Hopefully, Astyanax would see me, too. My son spotted me first, calling out to me happily.
“Daddy!” It only took Priam another second to spot me. He snarled in my direction and Paris flinched. Apparently, my father had said something not-so-nice about me.
“Hector,” Priam glowered at me, “How dare you betray us to the Greeks!”
“Daddy would never do that!” Astyanax interrupted, still struggling to get away from my father. His stubbornness and abrupt strong-will to talk back to his grandfather whereas before he was terrified of the man surprised me. Achilles chuckled under his breath next to me.
“He’s just like you.” He murmured.
“Let my son go, Priam!” I called. My father physically flinched at my disrespect and disregard for our filial relationship. I didn’t care. He had started that particular war. “And we will leave this place forever!”
“Why would I give up my grandson?”
“You gave up your son and heir.” I pointed out, making him flinch again.
“You betrayed us!”
“Daddy’s a good man!” Astyanax argued loudly enough for his five-year-old voice to carry through the ranks. “He loves Troy! He’s better’n you! All you do is sit and yell at everyone! My daddy protects Troy every day! He’s the best warrior in the world! He’s better’n you!” My son’s foot struck out, violently slamming against my father’s shin, causing the older man to fall, swearing loudly. Astyanax took off running from the king, sprinting to me with all his might. Achilles shot past me before I could even prepare to run. My heart pounded in my chest as I attempted to take a step forward. I barely got two steps in when I was dragged back to the Greek line.
“Put the traitor down!” I heard my father yell in fury and panic stopped my heart. He would murder his own grandchild. I watched, struggling violently against whoever was holding me back, as Achilles slid on his knees to reach Astyanax and threw his shield up just as arrows began shooting towards them. I froze, nearly tumbling to the ground as my heart leapt to my throat. Arrows poured forth from the Trojan line as more hands grabbed my arms to hold me back.
“Astyanax!” Something in me broke and I started to struggle in earnest, trying desperately not to throw up in my panic. “Achilles!” The name issued forth unbidden from my lips and my body found the energy to blush even as my terror made me blanch. I screamed and fought, not caring about my own life as long as I knew that my son was safe. That Achilles was safe.
That thought silenced me.
“Hold!” My father yelled. The arrows stopped and everyone stopped moving, or even breathing, as we watching the golden figure surrounded by arrows, who was still crouched, unmoving. Nothing happened for a good five seconds, making alarm shoot through me. Suddenly, the gold figure started sprinting back towards the line, a dark child in his arms.
“Priam! Halt this madness!” Odysseus yelled, preventing my father from ordering another attack. “Your grandson is a child!”
“The child of a traitor!” Priam replied.
“Hector did not betray you.” Odysseus said. “He was right in his assumptions that the man who murdered his wife is a Trojan. Andromache was killed by Pedasus.”
“Lies!” My father snapped.
“Let him be brought forth then.” Odysseus replied. “Have him answer these claims of treason himself.” There was shifting around on the Trojan side and Achilles reached the Greek line again, cradling Astyanax gently. Tears threatened to spring forth from my eyes as Achilles handed my son to me. I hugged him tightly, my eyes meeting Achilles’. The man had an unexpectedly fond expression on his face and it made my stomach clench uncomfortably.
“Thank you.” My voice had been ruined the night before with both my violent removal from Troy and the significant amount of sex Achilles and I had engaged in, but my latest bout of screaming only made my throat hurt more than it had before. Achilles smiled, really smiled, and the knot in my stomach relaxed and I found myself smiling back at the Greek.
“I missed you, Daddy.” Astyanax mumbled. I pressed a kiss to my son’s curls and wiped the happy tears away from his face.
“I missed you, too.” I kissed his head again and again, reassuring myself that he was safe in my arms.
“Achilles is really nice.” Astyanax pulled back from me to look at the warrior. Achilles blinked in shock. “He saved me. He said you couldn’t ‘cause Grandpa didn’t let you have your armor. He said you would have if you could.”
“That’s right.” I agreed. “I will be forever in his debt because he saved you for me.” Achilles opened his mouth to argue with me, but Astyanax interrupted.
“You talk about him all the time, Daddy.” He said. “I know why.”
“Why?” I indulged my son. I knew the reasoning had been because I was worried about my eventual duel with the Greek. He was the strongest opponent I would ever face and Andromache and I talked at length on multiple occasions on how I might survive our fight. But I was interested in hearing what my son had thought about the long discussions his parents had held about the Greek warrior.
“‘Cause he’s so nice. He’s your best friend an’ you love him.”
Both Achilles and I choked at the five-year-old’s words.
“An’ he told me that he cares about you, too, so he must love you back.”
And we were officially both bright red.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Astyanax looked back and forth between Achilles and me, waiting for praise for his cunning.
“Of course you are, little one.” Odysseus ruffled Astyanax’s hair with a grin. “You’re so clever to have figured it out. Even though your father and Achilles didn’t want to admit it.” Astyanax grinned happily. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a small bit of business to attend to that requires your father.”
“Okay.” Astyanax flushed at feeling important enough to excuse a grown man from his company. Despite my embarrassment, I chuckled at him and looked at Achilles.
“Will you care for him, Achilles?” I asked.
“Of course.” Achilles took my son from my arms and ruffled his hair gently. “I’ll protect him with my life.” When his blue eyes met my brown, there was no steel in his gaze, only warmth, which startled a smile out of me. “Don’t get yourself killed, Hector.”
“Why would I ever do that?” I shot him a smirk as I walked forward with Odysseus and I belatedly realized I had been flirting with the warrior. Now, the notions of love would never leave Astyanax’s mind. Odysseus and I got slightly closer to the Trojan army, though we still stayed far enough back that the arrows couldn’t reach us easily. Father, Paris, and Pedasus approached us, though they still stayed far enough away that the armies would still hear every word we spoke to each other. Odysseus was planning on airing the dirty laundry for everyone to see. It would be humiliating for Father, which amused me far more than it should have.
“My prince!” The instant Pedasus saw me, he bowed. Father glowered at the soldier.
“He is not your prince anymore!” He growled.
“Pedasus, did you kill Andromache?” I asked. The soldier looked up and the instant his eyes met mine, my heart sank.
“Answer!” Father snapped. Pedasus said nothing, though his eyes spoke volumes.
“Pedasus.” My voice was much softer, though it still carried. “Did you kill my wife?”
“Yes, my prince.” He bowed his head, avoiding my gaze. Although Odysseus had warned me, it still hurt like a physical blow. My own soldier had betrayed me and murdered my wife.
“Why?” I asked. Pedasus looked up, no regret in his eyes, only pride.
“You were falling for the Greek trap.” He explained, almost angrily. “They don’t want peace! They’ll never want peace! Achilles has been manipulating you! I had to prove it to you!”
“Pedasus, what happened to your wife?” Odysseus asked, interrupting the man’s rant. Father and Paris looked sharply at the man next to me, but said nothing. Pedasus flinched and avoided looking at the King of Ithaca, saying nothing. It appeared he would only obey me.
“Answer him.” I ordered softly.
“She was sick.” Pedasus muttered. “She… she wouldn’t stop. She kept… needing things! She was sick. She wouldn’t get better. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t stop. I had to make her stop! I… she wasn’t getting better. She was too sick.”
“Did you kill her?” I asked.
“I…” Pedasus floundered. “I had to make her stop.”
“Did you kill your wife?” I asked again, slower.
“Yes.” He looked at me desperately. “She wouldn’t stop!”
“She was pregnant and sick.” I said. “And you killed her.”
“I…” The soldier nodded, avoiding my gaze.
“Pedasus first murdered his wife and unborn child, then he followed the brawl between Achilles and Hector and stole Achilles’ blade. When we sued for peace the next day, he decided to prevent any peace attempts between us.” Odysseus explained, artfully avoiding the coupling between Achilles and I, which Pedasus likely saw. “As a Trojan guard, he easily slipped into the palace and murdered Andromache with Achilles’ blade to halt any potential peace.”
“Is this true?” Father snapped at the cowering soldier.
“Pedasus, why did you leave Astyanax alive?” I asked. He looked at me, blinking in surprise, as if the question confused him.
“He is your son. He is the heir apparent. He assures your place as Crown Prince.”
“He is an exile.” Father said sharply, thought his eyes spoke of the mistake he made. He realized how badly he had messed up.
“No! He is our prince!” Pedasus snapped. “He protects us every day!” I turned and grabbed Odysseus’ knife, knowing what was going to happen and hoping I could stop it. By the time I hurled the weapon forward, Pedasus had attacked my father. Both men went down and I charged forward just after Paris did. Paris pulled the insane soldier off Father just as I reached their side. Pedasus had been killed instantly with the knife in his eye, and Father was not far behind him. Paris and I knelt by his side, exchanging a worried glance as we looked at the knife embedded in Father’ chest.
“Hector.” I focused on his face. “You were right.” Each word was another knife to his chest. “I’m sorry. You are my son. You are my heir. You are the king.”
“Father.” I acknowledged his words, kissing his forehead.
“Father.” Paris murmured, following my example and kissing Father’s forehead. Tears fell from our eyes as our patriarch died. Paris and I hugged each other over his dead body. It was strange because I didn’t feel sadness or regret or anger or even relief, yet the tears kept coming. I felt empty inside. Perhaps the war numbed me of the pain of watching loved ones die. Perhaps Andromache’s death numbed me. It didn’t matter anymore. Paris and I soothed each other and quickly wiped the evidence of our grief away when Odysseus called my name in warning. I looked back and saw Agamemnon approaching us with his posse of leaders in tow.
“What do they want?” Paris hissed angrily as I stood up.
“To claim victory.” Odysseus replied. Paris stiffened in affront.
“They will not succeed.” I interrupted him before he could speak.
“What is your plan, brother?” Paris asked. I looked back at my younger brother, keeping my face blank and confident.
“I’m ending this war now.” Something in my face must have been off because Paris blanched at the surety in my voice.
“Agamemnon! What do you want?” Odysseus called.
“Troy has no king!” Agamemnon replied. “The Greeks have felled Troy! Victory is ours!”
“Paris, give me father’s knives.” I murmured. My brother responded immediately, placing the blades in my hands.
“Her Crown Prince still stands!” Odysseus replied. “There is no victory yet!”
“What? The exiled Hector?” Agamemnon scoffed. “He is not fit to rule. Troy was left without a leader!”
“No.” I stepped forward, my voice hard. “With his dying breath, King Priam named me, the once-exiled Crown Prince, king in his stead; however, I will let Troy herself decide who shall inherit the throne once I end this war. I stand here as Troy’s guardian, her protector, her eternal ally. If you, Agamemnon, wish to take her, you must first go through me!”
Shocked silence fell on all the soldiers who were close enough to hear my words.
“I challenge you, Agamemnon!”
The field stood silent.
“Hector!” Paris hissed quietly. “What are you doing?”
“A battle of single combat to the death!” I continued, ignoring my brother. “The winner will claim victory for his side and this war will end today!” I could see Agamemnon hesitate. He couldn’t back out without being branded a coward, but he, and everyone else, knew that he couldn’t beat me. It would still be a tricky fight, especially because Agamemnon would definitely resort to cheating in order to win, not to mention subterfuge to kill me regardless.
“I’ll keep an eye out.” Odysseus murmured. I nodded my thanks to the king and stepped forward.
“I challenge you, Agamemnon!” I repeated.
Everyone remained silent for a good several minutes, waiting for him to reply.
“I accept the challenge!” The Greek king replied. He dismounted his horse and began muttering and solidifying his armor and weapons for the duel. I waited patiently, shifting Father’s knives so they sat more securely in my grip. I had no armor and no back-up weapons, but I didn’t care. Paris stood up and moved to my side.
“Take care, brother.” Worry shone in his eyes.
“Keep an eye on Agamemnon’s men.” I warned.
“I’ll have my bow ready.” Paris promised, backing off from my shoulder. Relief bloomed in my chest. As much of a sex addict my brother was, though I was quickly understanding his point on that front, he was unmatched in both speed and accuracy with a bow. His days on the battlefield, or more frequently, on the battlements, earned him a great number of kills and a large amount of respect for his talent. He was quite good at hand-to-hand combat as well, though he preferred his bow.
“He will try to keep you at a distance.” Odysseus remarked as I walked past him. “Close combat is your friend here. He is not particularly fast.” I nodded in thanks and continued walking forward, watching Agamemnon as he approached me slowly.
“Who is your second, Hector?” Agamemnon asked. I couldn’t help it. The stress of the day combined with the death of my father made me slap-happy. I burst out laughing.
“A second?” I replied. “Why would I need a second against you?” Okay, so insulting the man perhaps wasn’t my wisest idea, but I knew he didn’t have the same control that I did over my emotions. “Besides, this is to the death for the war. Whoever wins won’t have to deal with the second. Assuming, of course, you will keep your word.”
“My word is true.” Agamemnon replied, face twitching in surprise at my lack of respect. I laughed at him again, making his face purple in anger. I waited for him to attack me. It took him longer than I thought it would, but it made the appropriate block no less easy. It took me a little time to find his pattern, but once I did, the whole fight was over rather quickly. I slipped in the reach of his sword and struck out with a dagger, catching his throat and spraying blood across my face. I lashed out with the other dagger and cut through the rest of his neck, making his head fall to the ground.
When the hot blood splashed across my skin and Agamemnon’s form fell to the ground, I looked at the Greek king’s posse, instantly recognizing the archer aiming at me. An arrow whistled past me and embedded itself in the man’s throat. The arrow he had been about to fire shot from the bow and I had to dive to the ground to avoid getting hit. I rose to my feet, still eyeing the Greek side warily.
“Attempt to shoot the victor again and you’ll die, too.” Paris called. I smirked. It was hard to argue with the best archer in the war when had a bow in his hand. I turned to the Trojan side, hoping that my brief exile hadn’t poisoned their view of me.
“Hector!” The regiment directly before me started chanting, quickly drawing the rest of the army into their shouting. I heard an echo behind me and turned, confused. I almost dropped my jaw in shock when the Myrmidons led the Greek armies in joining the chant. Odysseus’ men took up the shout and the sheer amount of respect they all felt for me as a fellow warrior made my chest fill with pride and gratitude. I spotted Achilles, still holding onto Astyanax dutifully as they both chanted with the rest of the armies. Achilles smirked as he caught my eye. The chanting reverberated in my ribs, drawing a grin to my face. I held the bloody knives up, pulling every man’s voice into a raucous shout of victory.
“Hector!”

Thanks for reading! Once again, thanks to Tinka for reviewing! I’m sorry it took me so long to update. Life got REALLY crazy for me for a while and I was without Internet for a while, preventing me from being able to update, even if I HAD time (which I didn’t). Let me know what you thought!
Thanks!

~LP
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Divine Inspiration