Summary: During the sacking of Troy Paris set out to kill Achilles, but failed and was captured by Achilles. Now Paris is a slave to the one who killed his older brother yet Achilles is some how like Hector. And with Paris Achilles also has the only boy who reminds of Patroclus and could be his redemption for Patroclus' death.

Parings: Achilles/Paris, Achilles/Briseis, Paris/Helen and Implied Achilles/Patroclus and Hector/Paris (brotherly love)

Warnings: Slash! Non-consensual sex! Angst! Killing!

Rating: PG-13

Please make note that this is a TROY VERSE story. I am not confident in my knowledge of the Iliad to base this fic on that and the circumstances in the movie make it easy to connect the plot to it as opposed to the Iliad. There will be a few minor changes from the movie two. (Paris isn't wearing his armor for example)

Note: The ages in this are probably pretty different from the ages you imagined the characters. I always thought of them as mostly young people even before the movie when I read the Iliad. So although the actors do look very young indeed I am not basing these ages on their looks (though Mr. Bloom does look 17 at times in the movie; heck most of the actors could pull off these ages!)

Ages: Paris-17 Achilles-27 Briseis-19 Hector-26 Patroclus-16 Helen-18 Andromache-25 Odysseus-32

My Brother's Keeper

There was fire everywhere. He could hear people screaming and yelling as the Greeks descended upon them. They could run but they wouldn't be able to get away; women would be captured, children and men would die. The brilliance in using the wooden horse was unbelievable no one ever expected it. Everyone had thought that there would be peace; such fools they were. This was no longer a war for gaining land and power. This was a war for revenge and it wouldn't stop until every Trojan was dead. A cold wind blew bringing the smell of smoke and death with it.

Paris shivered. He sat in his room curled up in the corner. He had his bow with him, but no arrows. There isn't any point he thought bitterly. I couldn't kill anyone I am much too weak; Hector could though. Hector could defeat them all. He shivered again. He was only wearing his light blue tunic, which was cut short so it only it fell just above his knees making it even colder. It was similar to the one he had worn on the way back from Sparta, when the whole mess started. If he wore his armor it would take longer to kill him and he just wanted to die as soon as possible. They would probably kill him when they sacked his room.

He wanted to die more then anything. He deserved to die. Of all the people who died in this war he was the only one who deserved it. Menelaus should have killed him, but instead he had been a coward and Hector saved him as usual. If only he had died then Hector would still be alive. Hector deserved to live; he had a wife and child. He was not impulsive and never started a war because he was so stupid. But no, Hector was dead and it was his entire fault. If he died maybe, just maybe he could see Hector again. Paris could apologize and feel Hector's touch and his voice telling Paris that he was forgiven.

Paris pulled his knees close to his body and hugged them. The screams outside got louder. Paris buried his face in his knees. It doesn't matter; nothing matters anymore. He did nothing but listen to the sound of his own breathing. He wanted to remember what it was like to really breathe. A hand caressed his face.

"Paris?" It was his sister in law Andromache. Hector's widow because of him.

"Andie?" He responded with the name he called her when he had been a little boy; unable to say 'Andromache' correctly. He lifted his head to look her in the eyes. She looked pale and scared.

"Paris we need to get out of here." She said urgently. "The Greeks are coming and if they catch us they will kill us. I know a way out, come."

Paris did not want to leave. He wanted to die. "Where's Astyanax?"

"Helen has him. I gave him to her so it would be easier for me to come get you. Now, please come." She reached up and pulled something that had been strapped to her back; a quiver of arrows. "You need to leave the city with us and we need you to protect the people escaping. You are a good archer and we need you to help."

Paris obscured his face into his knees again. "No, just leave me here. I want to die; I deserve to die."

Andromache's voice rose. "Well there are people who want to live and your help to do so! Now get up! You can die later." She grabbed his arms pulled him roughly to his feet. Surprised by the rough action Paris stumbled; Andromache caught him and held him steady. She thrust the quiver into his arms and He looked up at her with wide eyes. "Take it; you'll need it." He picked up his bow and allowed Andromache to lead him away.


There were too many damn people. Running in every which way trying to get away from their impending doom. Achilles thought they were all fools. They were foolish to bring the horse into their city. But what they had done was not honorable. To trick was unfair. More Trojans smashed into him. It was very annoying to try and get around them. How the hell was he supposed to find Briseis in all this?

"Briseis!" He called out. "Briseis!"

No good. Maybe she escaped the city; although unlikely it was possible. He grabbed a girl who had been running. No it wasn't Briseis and he let the girl go. Achilles found the stable and ran through it calling the name of one of the few people he loved. He loved Briseis almost as much as Patroclus, but Patroclus was merely a memory now. There was to be no dwelling on him. Or at least Achilles wished there wasn't. Every night his mind drifted to Patroclus. He remembered his face, his voice and his laugh. If only he, Achilles, had not been so foolish. If only, he had been paying more attention to Patroclus instead of Briseis. Then Patroclus might still be alive. But Patroclus was dead; gone for all eternity. Achilles would never be able to seem him again.

Achilles spotted the Royal Palace up ahead. IF Briseis was anywhere it would be there. He ran through the screaming crowd up to the front steps. There were no guards there. Achilles could here the clashes of swords and screams close by. The army had already made it to the palace; Briseis could be in danger. He had to find her now.


"Move quicker!" Andromache hissed at the people she was leading away. Paris followed blankly behind her. He wasn't really thinking much of anything. It was as though his mind had stopped but his body had continued moving. He was a walking corpse. No…not a corpse; a ghost. He was now the ghost. He felt nothing but his own despair and loathing. The people in front of him stopped suddenly and he nearly crashed into them. Paris looked up and saw that they were waiting for some Greek soldiers to pass, so they could continue to go unnoticed. The soldiers were laughing and snickering.

"Fools. The Trojans were doomed the moment our ships landed on their shores" One said.

"Yes, we also have Achilles. He will make quick work of the Trojan soldiers still left in this city." Another replied.

"But I've heard that no one has seen Achilles since we climbed from the horse. Do you think he could be…?"

"Dead? Achilles?! Impossible, he's just make quick work out to the Trojans…"

The soldier's voice faded in the distance. Achilles… He was the one. He was Hectors murderer. The disgusting bastard without honor who had dragged Hector's body though the plains. Paris clenched his hands around his bow. If he could hill Achilles, then maybe Hector could forgive him. Hector would stop haunting his heart and dreams. HE knew that Andromache was about to lead them on again. It was now or never. "I-I'm not g-going," He said in a shaking voice. Everyone turned to stare at him.

"What do you mean you're not going?" Andromache walked over to him.

"I mean I'm not going. I'm going to help defend my country and help my father." Paris kissed Andromache's cheek and kissed baby Astyanax on the head. "Good bye," he whispered to them. He turned to look at Helen. There was not much love between them anymore. No passion at all. All the destruction had weighed to hard in their hearts for there to be any love or passion. But all the same Paris walked over to her and kissed her. "May you be happy," Paris said finally. Helen didn't say anything she just stared at him. Paris turned and ran off hoping this would not be the last time he saw any of them.

Enjoy your last final hours Achilles. Paris thought. Because when I find you, you are dead.

Okay that was chapter 1! Now please, please, please review. When people review it lets me know that people like the story and I should continue.