Christophe here for ya (redone chapter four years later pft)

Enjoy~

Sometimes, I wonder just how I get myself into these messes.

I stare at the soldiers of our dear king gathered around on the board of the ship, talking of their homes as we sail along with the tide.

"Come on, we don't have all day!" I hear said king bellowing from his spot at the head of the boat. I see his pansy consoler beside them, fidgeting around as though he is afraid of being struck with a spear as the king speaks.

I cannot say I blame them, a part of me wants to do just that.

I stand and watch them closely, leaning against the mast and rolling my eyes. This is a fool's quest. I have no interest in rescuing the boy I've only known of through the stories my mother used to tell me as I was a child. I am only 'ere for the fact I could either be a militia man or one of the farmers. This is actually the first time I have left my homeland of Sparta to join war on another land. Most of the time, I am at home with my mother, merely training in the chance I do have to leave for battle.

"C-Christophe!" I hear. "C-can you come up here f-for a minute?"

I roll my eyes again at the sound of that annoying advisor's voice piercing through the air before standing and making my way up to where the king and his tiny lackey are waiting for me.

"Yes?" I ask as I step up to them.

"Ch-Christophe here is a good strategist and a strong fighter," the advisor smiles at me, gesturing for the king as though the man cannot see me himself. "The general w-was tellin' me just how much he could do for us in the long run, Sir." I look over, briefly bowing to the gargantuan.

"Hm," the king humphs. "How much have you done in the means of military warfare, Christophe?" he glares at me skeptically.

"Only what little could be done from the comfort of our home, my king," I narrow my eyes at him. I have never been one to follow orders all too well. "I was in charge of leading ze troops z'hrough the forest. Directing zem and avoiding potential traps, Your Majesty," I say firmly. I do not take well to people doubting my abilities. This king is already well on his way to making me hate him. Given that directing his legion of soldiers for the rescue of just one man pretty much already secured the fat bastard with his title.

"Are you sure that you can handle the responsibility of plotting out for our armies?" he raises his brow skeptically.

"I cannot give you any guarantee on my abilities. All I can tell you iz zat I will do what I can," I say lowly. "I 'onestly cannot tell you why I was chosen among the several strategists at your 'and to come and join your fight."

He glares at me angrily, "This is not my fight, Spartan. This is the fight for the country and the honor that it's lost due to the Trojans! Do you have no pride in your homeland?"

"I 'ave been a Spartan since birth," I retort, feeling my anger rising towards the man. "I 'ave always upheld our traditions with 'onor, my king. I would not want to be anything else but of Spartan blood. We are built for war now, which iz what I am best accustomed to with the training I have endured."

"L-Like I said, Eric," the blonde cuts in, "The general himself, why he said that Ch-Christophe was right for the job. He thinks that he'll be able to get us in and out of Troy in no time with Kyle back!"

I narrow my eyes slightly at this comment. "My intention has nothing to do with rescuing zat man," I clarify. "he iz of little interest to me."

"You do realize that he's the reason we're going to war in the first place, correct?" the king questions.

I nod sharply, "Yes. I do not believe that one man iz worth this battle personally, my lord."

"How dare you question me!" he bellows.

The advisor looks between the two of us with worry. "E-Eric, now, he's just showin' ya how...firm he is in battle," he tries.

"I am not," I reply smoothly. "I am stating the truth, zat zis war that you are fighting, it eez for a lost cause, yes?"

"Christophe!" he whispers hurriedly. I ignore him, watching instead his leader, who seems to have taken an interest in staring at me.

"You are here and fighting on my terms," he states quietly with a hint of danger in his voice. "Your experience will mean nothing if you anger me and I decide to let my army turn their spears unto you. Is this clear, Soldier?"

"Creestal, my King," I bow. "Just do know zat I tend to take matters into my own 'ands when given the chance."

"Which will be good should you have to act on y-your own," the advisor interjects.

"No one iz asking for your permission," I glare at hem. "You are no'zing more than a shadow of zis man," I gesture to the king. "Stop being 'is little beetch and just stating the obvious."

A moment of silence passes between us before the king laughs loudly. "He's right Butters," he chuckles. "You are a little bitch."

"Aw-aww, Eric," he pouts. "That wasn't very nice..."

The king laughs some more, giving me a nod of approval. I nod back and turn from them, walking back towards the front of the ship. I watch the waves breaking against the side and shake my head.

This battle. It's ridiculous. I hear the king still laughing and sigh. I am here, and he is the one leading all these men.

I look at some of the soldiers behind us in the following ships and shake my head again. These men have no idea what they're getting into.

Thanks for R&Ring!