TROY: Something only we know
Everyone knows the classic tale of Troy; Paris, Helen and love. But the unspoken relationship between two warriors was left out. Achilles and Patroclus were cousins, but that didn't stop them being lovers too…
Patroclus threw down the wooden stave, and lay panting on the grass, his legs sore from training. Achilles was the best master he could have, with swordsmanship, cunning and speed that was almost unnatural, and he knew he was very fortunate to be taught by him, even if they were cousins. But he pushed too hard, forcing Patroclus to exert his physical ability to the limit, whilst teasing him. Patroclus was tough- he could take a hit and keep going, but sometimes, it just made him snap.
"Patroclus? Where are you? Tired already?" Achilles taunted, stepping onto the small patch of grass by the beach, where Patroclus lay.
Patroclus leapt to his feet, stroking back his long silky blonde hair and retrieving his stave.
"No. I was waiting… for you to teach me something new. Everyday we use little pieces of wood.' He held up his sword. "I was hoping we could move onto real weapons."
Achilles looked his cousin up and down. Patroclus was muscular, well-built and young. Too young for a real battle, he mused. But why remove his hope?
Without warning, Achilles slashed forward brutally, missing Patroclus' head by shear millimetres, which was either bad aim or on purpose. He pinned Patroclus to the ground, the tip of his sword cutting into his neck. Patroclus' eyes were wide with shock, horror and alarm, afraid to be decapitated where he lay.
"Swords are for men, Patroclus."