Author's Note: In ancient Greece, homosexual relationships were considered socially acceptable and even expected, especially those between a grown man and an adolescent male. One of the strongest proponents of this cultural phenominon was the story of Zeus and Ganymede. In this story, Ganymede is still living in a pre-'Abduction of Ganymede' world, making the fictional cultural climate around him less understanding of his orientation than might have been accurate in actual ancient Greece. Also, Ganymede is seventeen in this fanfiction, making him underage in our world, though the ancient Greeks wouldn't have had a problem with it. Still, if that's going to bother you, or if you don't want to read smut, I would suggest clicking out of this and reading one of my other stories.

I felt the cool air rush in around me as the cover pulled back. Gooseflesh rose along my arms and I grumbled, blindly reaching for the missing fabric. The sheets rustled as another body slid into the bed, curling around my exposed back. The blanket was pulled up again, covering us both.

"Mmm?" I asked, my eyelids cracking open. The alarm clock on the windowsill read 3:21 a.m.

"It's just me. Go back to sleep," a voice murmured in my ear.

I sighed, my head too fuzzy to comprehend the words. I closed my eyes again and immediately drifted off.

The next thing I knew it was morning. Brilliant sunlight came in through the window, shining on the cheery yellow walls. It backlit the red geraniums on the windowsill and glinted off the picture frames scattered around the room. The clock read 6:37 a.m.

Zeus had an arm slung across my waist and I could feel his warm breath against the back of my neck. I turned toward him. He was sound asleep, his pale hair tangled around his face and his lips slightly parted, revealing the edge of his teeth. Zeus had pretty teeth, pearly white and perfect. It was an odd thing to admire, but I always had. Barely breathing, I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his. He made a sound in his sleep, but didn't wake up.

I gently disentangled myself from his arms and slid out of bed before easing my way across the floor. I didn't want to wake him. I wasn't sure what had sent him here like this, stealing into my bed in the middle of the night, but experience suggested that it had something to do with his wife.

I grabbed a towel and some clean boxers and headed for the bathroom. I had a feeling that when Zeus woke up, I'd be in for quite a story. Better get a hot shower in beforehand. I turned the water on full blast and stepped out of my boxers, picking them up with my toes before flipping them into the clothes hamper on the other side of the bathroom. "Ten points," I muttered.

I turned back around and caught sight of myself in the mirror. My dark hair was sticking up at all angles and my eyes were squinty with sleep. I smirked. I wondered what would have happened if Zeus had seen me like this that first day.

Stepping into the hot shower, I pondered that for awhile. What would my life have been like if I'd never met the man in the other room? It was hardly the first time I'd thought about it and I was no closer to the answer now than I'd ever been. No doubt I would have gotten married to some girl, hopefully ending up with a kid or two. Would I have grown to love my wife? Perhaps not as a husband should, but there are other kinds of love. If she'd been a sweet woman, a kind one, then maybe we'd have become friends. Or maybe she'd have been a witch like Hera and I'd have thrown myself off a parapet to be rid of her.

I sighed. What use was it to dwell on the past? Those days were long dead, and if Zeus hadn't done what he had I'd be dead right along with them.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting the hot water slosh over my hair. My mind wandered back in time, all those hundreds of years ago.


The wooden swords collided with a sharp crack. "Give in, Ganymede," the other boy jeered, striking out again with his sword.

"Never!" I shouted, laughing. The game continued, the two of us circling each other, our swords connecting again and again. Isandros was good, very good, but I managed to hold my own. The other boys stood around, cheering for one or the other of us. Most of them shouted for me to win, but I knew it was only because I was the prince. If money had been involved, their bets would be on the boy facing me.

Isandros came in toward me, his dark eyes flashing with a wild light. His sword came down hard, smashing into my own with such force that it was knocked out of my hand. I jerked back from him and managed to catch my foot on a rock, stumbling backwards and landing on my rump in the dust. Isandros came and stood over me, his sword at my chest.

"Yield?" he asked.

I glared up at him. "Never. You'll just have to kill me, you Spartan jackass."

He rolled his eyes and flicked away his sword before he leaned down and grabbed my hand. His was warm and steady as he hauled me to my feet. I pulled away as soon as I was upright and went to fetch my sword.

"You put up a good fight," he said from behind me.

I gave him a haughty look. "You're not half bad yourself."

The others laughed, and I laughed with them. We were all up on one the hills above the city. Troy stretched out beneath us and the sea glittered in the distance. There were about ten boys on the hillside, from lowly farm hands to me, the prince. Sheep dotted the stony hills around us. We were supposed to be tending them, but a man could only stare at sheep for so long before he went mad. Sword fights were necessary. Usually we pitted ourselves against each other as Trojans versus warriors from other cities. Isandros favored fighting for Sparta.

With the duel over, the boys scattered across the hills again, back to their sheep. I picked up my staff and started off toward my own herd.

Isandros trotted after me. "You really are getting better, you know," he said, brushing some of the hair out of his eyes. His hair was a curling mess that always seemed to be slipping out of the tie at the back of his neck.

I smiled a little. "Thanks. I'm glad to hear it." Isandros was the son of a Trojan war hero, and I half-believed that he'd been born with a sword in his hand. I, on the other hand, didn't have half of his natural skill or any of his grace. As a warrior I was a bit of a disappointment, but I tried my best and practiced every day. Isandros had volunteered to help me as much as he could, and I was grateful for it.

"Do you want to meet up in the training yard later today?" he asked.

"Sure."

"All right. Well, I guess I'll see you there," he said, and turned on his heel to leave. I watched him go, the bright sunlight casting him in bronze, defining the broad expanse of his shoulders and glinting off his dark hair. I turned away and continued down the path, my mind occupied.

The sheep wandered up and down the hillside, bleating and snuffling at the grass. I gazed at them from my vantage point on top of the hill, my head leaning against my hand. My mind was blank from boredom and my head itched under the hot shepherd's cap. I reached up to scratch beneath it, idly wondering if this was all my life would ever amount to. A shadow passed overhead and flew along the ground. I glanced up and spotted an enormous eagle soaring high above me. He flew over the pasture before slowly circling back around, his wings outstretched as he scanned the ground for field mice and rabbits. He passed directly overhead again, and I looked up at him, my mouth agape. I could see his talon from here, glinting like they were sheathed in copper. The eagle wheeled sharply to the left and began to descend, alighting on a tree stump a few yards away from me. I blinked at him, startled that he'd come so close. The eagle glared back at me, his head cocked to the side. At this distance, I was astounded by how huge he was. The eagle was as tall as a person, his head the size of my own. I chewed my lip, not quite sure what to do. I'd had no idea a bird could get that big. If he attacked me, I didn't like my chances of fighting him off before those talons ripped through my flesh.

"Prince Ganymede!"

I jerked around, startled. I shot a quick glance at the eagle but he hadn't moved.

"Prince Ganymede!"

"I'm over here," I called. The eagle turned his head toward the voice and then took to the air, those powerful wings stirring up the dust and making me sneeze. I watched him go, still astonished by the encounter. A servant came up over the hill, his tunic fluttering as he ran.

"My prince, the king would like to see you at once. I am to watch the sheep."

I was surprised but didn't argue, gladly leaving the flock in the servant' care. I met my father in his solar, talking to his advisor, Perdix. My father smiled at me and reached out his hand. I embraced him.

"Ganymede, Perdix has brought me some very good news and I want you to hear it."

Perdix smiled at me. He was a jovial, pudgy man with empty brown eyes. "Ah, yes, Prince Ganymede. There is a great man in Corinth, Pentares, who has presented his daughter to us in the hopes of a marriage alliance between his house and that of King Tros. Pentares, though not royal, has control over much of the Corinthian navy, and his daughter, Aristomache, is said to be one of the most beautiful girls in Hellas. Isn't that marvelous?"

I looked at him for a few moments before turning back to my father. He smiled at me, though there was a warning in his eyes.

"So I am to marry this Aristomache?" I asked, keeping my voice calm.

"Well, it is certainly something to consider," said Perdix. "Though it isn't official yet."

"It would be a good alliance to make," my father told me, holding my gaze. "I want you to think about it."

"But don't think too long," joked Perdix, "Better to get an answer back to Pentares before he changes his mind, no?"

"Thank you for telling us, Perdix," Father said, turning back to the other man. "Now why don't you go and get something to drink? My cellars are at your disposal."

"Thank you, Your Grace," he replied, sweeping a low bow before trotting out of the room.

Father waited until he'd closed the door behind him before speaking. "I know how you must be feeling. I know how I felt when they told me I was to marry a woman I'd never met."

"So I am going to marry her?"

"It would be a good match, Ganymede," he said again. "And you must marry somebody. Why not this girl?"

I stared at the floor, my stomach churning with uncertainty. He was right. I'd always known I was going to marry a girl, most likely one I'd never met. However, knowing and doing were two different things.

"Just think about it, won't you? It'd be for the good of the city." He patted my shoulder and turned back to his work table. "How's the swordplay coming?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Isandros says I'm doing much better."

"Good. I'll have to come watch you today."

I fidgeted with the edge of my tunic, unsure how I felt about that. I might be doing better, but I'd never actually beaten Isandros. I didn't want Father to see me lose.

"You don't have to. I'm sure you're busy."

"I can spare the time," he said, giving me a small smile.

I smiled back.


"Your father is here," Isandros muttered.

We were standing at the edge of the training yard, practice swords in our hands.

"I know. He said he was going to come watch me." I gave Isandros a frantic look. "Please, don't beat me too badly."

He smiled at me. "I never beat you very badly these days. Like I said, you're getting a lot better at this, Ganymede."

My heart swelled with pride.

We took our stances in the yard. Father was standing at the edge of the ring. My older brothers Ilus and Assaracus were with him. My sudden good mood vanished. It was one thing to lose in front of my father, but my brothers were a different matter entirely. Ilus was the eldest, serious and severe. He was a scholar and skilled tactician. Assaracus was the warrior in the family. I believed Isandros could beat him, but not many others could. He watched me now with a lopsided smirk, just waiting to laugh when I fell in the dust. I groaned under my breath.

"Don't think about them," Isandros whispered. "Focus on me."

I looked across at him, at his narrow face and high cheekbones and dark, dark eyes that watched me beneath his straight brows. I let the rest of the world disappear until it was just me and him and our swords rising to meet each other. Clack, clack, clack. We whirled around each other, side stepping and feigning, coming together and splitting apart, our swords dancing. I kept my eyes on him, watching his every move. Finally, he managed to get through my defences and placed his sword against my throat. We both froze, breathing heavily. I dropped my sword to the ground.

"Good show," I heard Father call. Assaracus was laughing. Soon they were all standing next to us.

Assaracus clapped Isandros on the back. "Poor fool never had a chance," he said.

I bristled, but Isandros came to my rescue. "I wouldn't say that, sir. There were a few moments when he had me pretty scared."

"Then you must scare easily. Ganymede swings that thing like he's trying to swat flies with it."

"Assaracus," my father scolded. "That's enough out of you." He turned to Isandros. "Thank you, young man, for helping my son. I know it must take a lot of your time."

Isandros bowed. "It's nothing, Your Grace. I enjoy it." He grinned at me. "Ganymede is my favorite student."

I felt my cheeks grow warm under such praise and turned away before he noticed. When I turned my head, I caught my father looking at me in such a way that made my embarrassment turn to fear. His expression was neutral, but there was something in his eyes that made me want to crawl away from his scrutiny.

"Well, if you don't mind, I need to take your favorite student away from you tonight," he said. "We've got a few things to discuss."

"Of course, Your Grace." Isandros bowed again before picking up my training sword and going back into the barracks.

Father watched him go before turning to my brothers. "You two, go on inside."

Assaracus and Ilus glanced at each other but did as they were told. My heart was thudding in my chest as I watched them leave and I wanted to race after them to get out from under my father's gaze.

"Ganymede," he said.

I glanced up at him. "Yes?"

"Come with me." We walked across the yard, toward the city gates. I followed him up the stone steps to the top of the city wall. Troy's walls had been smaller then, not the colossal things that faced Odysseus and Agamemnon years later. Still, at the time they'd been the tallest structures I'd ever seen. Standing on the top, I could see my entire world, the city and the hill country and the sparkling blue sea the swept out before me in all of its mystery. The sun was setting over the sea now, making it look as if the water itself had caught fire.

Father dismissed the guards standing watch and we looked at the sea together. "You need to make some decisions, Ganymede," he told me, still watching the sea.

I looked down at my hands on the half-wall in front of me and said nothing.

"You are a prince of Troy, my son. And princes don't always get what they want." He looked over at me. "Your brothers have both in the same scrape you are now. Neither was particularly thrilled to marry, but they did because they knew the importance of it. Aristomache is a good match for the people of Troy. I know you don't want to hear that, but you're seventeen years old. It's time to start facing the facts."

I didn't reply.

"I know that you're my third son, and I hope that you'll never have to bear the burden of my crown. But our house still needs to be built. Heirs need to be created so that our line will remain strong. And so that my sons' legacies will continue on." He turned away again, staring out at the sea. "You legacy will not be furthered by Isandros son of Aktor."

I felt my face go red and I prayed that the sunset would mask it. "I don't know what you mean," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.

"Oh, Ganymede." My father sighed. "You don't have to hide from me. I've known about you for a long time." He reached over and grasped me by the shoulder. "I'm not angry with you. I know that you can't help it. But you have to think about what's best for others, not just your own desires. You can't marry Isandros, nor any other man. You can't father children from such a scheme. I am asking you, for the good of our people and for the good of our family, to set aside your infatuations for now and to move forward with our agreement with Pentares of Corinth."

I couldn't answer at first. A lump had formed in my throat and to my shame I was suddenly on the brink of tears. I considered what he was asking of me and felt like my heart was breaking in two. Put aside my 'infatuations' as he called them? How? If I could so easily cast them aside I already would have. Did he think I wanted to feel like this?

"I don't know how to do that," I croaked. "I can't make my feelings go away, Father. I've tried to do that . . ." I shook my head, unable to finish. How many nights had I laid awake in my bed, wishing that I could be different than I was? That I had been born normal?

"Maybe," he murmured, squeezing my shoulder. "Once you see this girl, it'll be easier for you to—"

I shook my head, cutting him off. "It won't. Father, I—" The words caught in my throat, but I forced them out. "I've never . . . felt that way . . .for any woman. I've tried, but I just can't . . ." I covered my face with my hands, hating myself. Why couldn't I just do what he asked? Why couldn't I make myself desire something that men were supposed to want?

"I want you to try, Ganymede. I know it won't be easy, and I know that you might never feel the way a husband ought to feel about his wife,"

I had to bite back a sob when he said that, my fingers digging into my scalp, punishing me for my wretchedness.

Father continued. "But I think if you give it a chance, you'll be able to find some happiness with your wife. Maybe not the kind of romantic love most young people desire in a partner, but in a marital relationship affection and respect are just as valuable as any of that. I think you could be happy, Ganymede. And, after a few children have been conceived, perhaps you could find . . . other ways to fulfill your needs."

I uncovered my face and looked up at him. He watched me, one eyebrow raised.

"Do you mean," I hesitated, almost afraid to ask. "That you expect me to have homosexual relationships outside of my marriage?"

"Affairs aren't exactly uncommon, Ganymede," he said ruefully. "Between men and women or otherwise. I know a few men who openly tell their wives about their male lovers, though you'd better be pretty sure she'd approve before you tried that." He chuckled, clapping his hand on my shoulder one last time before turning to leave. "I want you to be happy, Ganymede. I know it may not seem like that now, but I really do want you to enjoy your life. But we all must make sacrifices."

I stayed up on the wall after Father had left, my head swirling. I looked out at the sea, wondering if there were any foreign lands where it was acceptable to be like I was. I imagined walking down a public street arm in arm with Isandros, turning to smile up at him the way I'd seen women do to their sweethearts. My heart hurt with longing for such a place, aching all the more from the belief that no such paradise existed. At last I turned away from the sea and began trudging toward home. Now that the sun had sunk below the horizon, the stairs leading down from the wall were cast in shadow and I had to keep my eyes on my feet so I didn't trip and die. That's why I didn't see the girl at the foot of the stairs until I ran right into her.

She was a laundress from the look of it, and I'd smacked into her so hard that she'd dropped the basket full of clothes she was carrying. She let out a little wail and fell to her knees, picking up the scattered clothes off the ground.

"I'm so sorry," I said, sinking to my knees as well and helping her. There must have been a hundred garments in that basket and they'd been flung pell-mell across the paving stones. "I wasn't watching what I was doing. Are you hurt?"

"No, sir," she replied. Her tone was brusque, making it was clear how unhappy she was.

I felt my ears turning hot. "I really am sorry."

We picked up the rest of the clothes in silence. I plucked up the last tunic and brought it over to where she was kneeling beside the basket. I dropped it on top of the pile. She glanced up at me and did a double take, her mouth falling open a little.

"My—my prince," she stuttered, rising to her feet. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you."

I smiled politely. "It's all right. I'm the one who wasn't paying attention." The girl kept watching me, her eyes wide. She had astonishing eyes, such a pale blue that they looked nearly colorless in the dim light. They were appraising me, drifting across my face in a way that I recognized. I was used to women ogling at me, just like I was used to men teasing me about my pretty face. Assaracus always said I looked like a girl. My mother had called me beautiful until I was fourteen when Father had told her to quit embarrassing me.

The girl was beautiful too, even I could see that. She had long dark hair swept into an ornate updo on top of her head. It contrasted dramatically with her light skin and pale blue eyes. She also had a pair of full red lips and the kind of curves that would fill other men's dreams long after they'd seen her. I stared at her, trying to make my body respond. My eyes admired her, but only in the way someone admired an artist's statue. My heart wasn't aroused and neither was anything else.

"Excuse me," I said, trying to move past her.

"Of course, my prince," she murmured, her tone demure. She stepped aside and did something strange with her eyes. She glanced at the ground and then back up at me, her pale eyes shining through a forest of black eyelashes. Her gaze smoldered, and my breathing stuttered to a halt. The world narrowed until all I could see were those blue eyes. Then the girl blinked, and the connection was broken. She giggled and turned away, casting me one last look over her shoulder. "Goodnight," she called, giggling again, her hips swaying as she walked.

I gaped after her, my thoughts sluggish. Sucking in a shaky breath, I looked away, shaking my head a little, trying to get my thoughts to move again. I wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, but it had been intense. I'd felt like my entire existence could have been snuffed out by those eyes. Was this what other men felt around women? I glanced back toward the girl, but she was already gone, having vanished as suddenly as she'd appeared.