Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC and parts of the storyline. All rights go to Wolfgang Peterson, the wonderful director of Troy.
A/N: Thank you all for bearing with me these last six months! I have had horrible writers block for this story. Thank you to those who messaged me to make sure I was ok lol I am still writing this story. Welcome to my new favs/followers: SereneDreamm, Toshiba234, Carols96, ShizukaRen-Hime, ChrryBlossomTrinity, SOAROCKS, apider-lily08, .587, LirelWood, IssaQueen, Scarletmoon23, harl3yg1rl, Scarlett D. Uchiha, Isabella Hale, WideAwake94, AlbeeLane, ginaarnau, teapotsandblood, skycord1990, and Serenity10116.
Ch. 22
"Unconscionable Love,
To what extremes will you not drive our hearts!"
Virgil, The Aeneid
Panthea was a natural mother, her instincts kicking in the moment she gave birth to Lyra and Alexius. She would not have a wet nurse for them or have a nanny watch after them unless she was needed at certain events within the palace. Otherwise, she was always with them. She nursed them, fed them, and changed the. She had a certain glow around her that made her seem more beautiful as a mother than she ever was as a virgin. Hector would catch himself looking at her constantly, admiring the way she was with the babes. And he embraced being a father again. Though Alexius was not his, he still loved him as if he was his own son. And he immensely enjoyed having a daughter. He had his little girl now, to spoil her like the princess she was.
At that moment, Hector and Panthea were enjoying alone time with the babies in her apartments. They had laid out a blanket on the floor and the babies were laid on their backs watching as Panthea dangled a toy above them. They were three months old now and growing by the day. She giggled at their reactions, both of them cooing up at her. Hector watched the scene intently from his position on the bed, a beaming smile on his face. He had not been this happy in so long. And now that fighting at resumed on the Trojan plains, he was eager to spend as much as possible with Panthea and the twins.
"You can stop staring," Panthea muttered, not looking up from the twins as she spoke to Hector.
"It's not staring. It's admiring the mother of my children." Hector lowered himself off the bed, coming up behind Panthea as she leaned over Alexius and Lyra. He reached for her white-blond hair that was falling over her shoulders and pulled it back behind her head to reveal her smooth skin. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss against her bare shoulder. Panthea shivered at the sensation, feeling his beard rub against her skin. She turned her head, her blue eyes locking with Hector's dark brown ones. He wanted her. She could see the desire in his eyes, and it excited her. They hadn't laid with one another since before the twins were born, so it was only natural for both of them to be aroused.
"I think we should put the children in their cribs. Perhaps we could make another sibling for them," Hector suggested seductively with a roguish grin on his face. Panthea blushed at the attention, relishing in the way Hector's hand slowly dragged across her shoulder before removing itself. He reached for the babes, picking Lyra up in his arms and placing her in the crib that he had helped carve himself. He did the same with Alexius, Panthea staring up at him as he performed the actions.
Hector's attention was solely on Panthea now as he stared down at her while she sat on the floor. She had an innocent look in her eyes as she stared up at him and it made his blood hot. He kneeled down on the floor before her, grasping her face in his hands and pressing his lips against hers passionately. Panthea moaned at the touch of his lips against hers and grabbed for him eagerly as she raised herself up on her knees. She entangled her fingers in his hair as he held her waist roughly before laying her down on the ground. He lingered over her, drawing a path of kisses from her neck to her collarbone. He reached for the pins on her peplos, unclasping them. Panthea pulled the fabric down her body, revealing her chest to him. She pulled him towards her, connecting their lips once more.
Hectors hands traveled across Panthea's breasts, palming the mounds of flesh in his hands. Panthea arched her back at the feeling, her hands on Hector's shoulders as she tried to pull his body closer to hers. He leaned back from her, removing his chiton and revealing his own body. Panthea couldn't help, but gaze at his body hungrily. Her eyes were glazed over as she took in his chiseled chest, the dark hairs that covered his body, and the broadness of his shoulder. Though he was 38 years old, he was still in the prime of his life.
Hovering over Panthea with his body, Hector was once more pulled atop of her as she opened her legs for him. He didn't falter as his member entered her, Panthea uttering a silent cry of pleasure. Hector thrust into her gently, Panthea meeting him thrust for trust with her own rocking movement. It didn't take them long to reach their climax, both crashing down at the same time. They held each other, savoring the feeling of being one for they didn't know how much longer they would be such.
Patroclus had slowly recovered from his wound, having been taken to the infirmary in the palace and attended to immediately after the battle. Hector had insisted on it. Even as Panthea was giving birth, he had emphasized the importance of saving the boy's life to his father. Panthea had visited him in the infirmary a week after she delivered the children and he was amazed that she had been allowed to see him.
"Panthea?" Patroclus questioned when Panthea had entered the infirmary. Hector was right behind her, aiding her as she walked through the palace. Patroclus laid on a cot in the room, a bandage across his chest where Hector had struck him. He looked warily at Hector but was glad to see Panthea. "I have heard you delivered two healthy children. You are to be congratulated."
"Thank you Patroclus." Panthea leaned in closer so only her could hear her words. "Your cousin will wish to meet his son soon, though I fear that may be impossible." Patroclus nodded at her words, understanding the situation.
"I have a question for you." Patroclus looked hesitant as he began to speak. "Am I to remain here until I recover and then be treated as a prisoner?"
Panthea knew the question was directed to Hector and she looked to her husband for an answer. Hector gave out a deep sigh, wishing that the question had not been asked. "I'm afraid so. You will remain here, not as a prisoner, but as a guest at my command. I know that your cousin has told you nothing of war plans. You are far too young to hear of such things. You are too young to have fought in this war." Patroclus gulped nervously at Hector. He knew the man could have killed him, but he didn't. Hector had hesitated for some unknown reason to him, though Panthea stood before him like a beacon of light. He had no idea that she had asked Hector to spare him, though it was Achilles she had been referring to.
"Thank you, my lord," Patroclus responded. He was completely shocked at Hector's answer, though he was internally grateful. Hector nodded at him, signaling that the conversation was over with his silence. Panthea nodded at Patroclus, allowing Hector to lead her out of the room. Patroclus watched the pair curiously, noting that Panthea did not flinch away when Hector placed his hand on her back and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. He knew that she loved Achilles, but looking now, he was not so sure Achilles was the only man she loved.
Hector knew something was going to happen. He thought that since he had injured Patroclus and Panthea's delivery of the twins that something would happen. And now, he was doing what he thought best. He was trying to save the most important women in his life. He was trying to protect them and his children from harm if something should happen to him, whether it be the next day, a week from then, a month, perhaps even a year. He would take no chances.
"Where are you taking us?" Andromache asked as her and Panthea followed after Hector. It was dark as Hector led them through unmarked passages in the palace to an abandoned room. He approached a door that had a latch on the outside and he opened it to reveal a dark tunnel.
"Do you remember how to get here? Both of you?" Hector asked.
"Yes," Andromache said while Panthea nodded her head.
"The next time you come here, follow the tunnel. There are no turns, so you can't get lost. Just keep walking. When you get to the end, you'll be by the river. Follow the river until you get
to Mount Ida."
"I don't understand," Panthea muttered with a confused look on her face. "Why are you telling us this?"
"lf I die…" Hector continued.
"No." Andromache shook her head. She couldn't imagine Hector dead. She wouldn't. Panthea couldn't either and she gasped at his words. "Don't say that."
"I don't know how long the city will stand. If the Greeks get inside the walls, it's over. They'll kill all the men, throw the babies from the city walls," Hector says.
"Please," Andromache begs him, trying to get him to stop his nonsense. Only it is not nonsense. Panthea knows that. There is a possibility Hector could die.
"The women, they'll take as slaves. That, for you, will be worse than dying. But they wouldn't take Panthea, they would take you because you are not Greek. She would be safe."
"If I would be safe than I could keep Andromache and Astyanax safe," Panthea voices.
"There is a chance that would not work, Panthea," Hector states. "Astyanax would forever be a threat to Agamemnon."
"Why are you saying such things?" Andromache asks. "Both of you?"
"Because I want you to be ready. Panthea already knows the realities of war. You do not. I want you to get our boy, and I want you to bring him here," Hector says. "And both of you, save as many people as you can, but you both get here. And run. Do you understand?" Andromache nods her head, but she is overwhelmed by his words. She makes no effort to embrace him but is frozen in place. Hector's question was mostly for Andromache, but now he stares into Panthea's eyes as well. "Do not wait for your father to save you. He may not make it in time. When men are bloodthirsty, they take no recognition into account. You would be a victim as well so promise me, promise me you will run. If something happens to me, I could not bear that you both would be in danger."
"I promise," Panthea speaks as she steps forward into Hector's arms. "But you must promise me you will not die tomorrow. Do not think you will die tomorrow. You do not know if you wil fight him when you have not killed Patroclus." She grasps Hector's face in her hands, staring back into his dark brown eyes.
"I fear that is not how Achilles sees it," Hector responds.
"Then you must try and make him see if you ever fight. I will go with you if I must, but…"
"No. No, you will remain inside Troy." Hector is stubborn in his response. He did not want Panthea anywhere near Achilles. It was his possessiveness taking over.
"But…"
"No Panthea. My answer is final." Hector's voice is sharp as he speaks, and he breaks away from Panthea's embrace. He never raised his voice to her, not unless he was determined to have his way. He could not be persuaded in his dark mood. He walks past her, even past Andromache as he heads to his chambers. Andromache and Panthea can only stare after him, knowing it would do no good to try and change his mind.
Hector and Achilles both stood in their separate chambers, one in the Palace of Troy and the other on the sands of the beach. They each tended to their armor with solemn looks on their faces. Both placed armor on their forearms, both placed grieves on their lower legs, and both finally placed their full body armor and helmets on.
Achilles trekked through the Greek camp, all eyes on him as he walked about in his full armor looking like a god. He led his horse, harnessed to his chariot, to the entrance of the Myrmidon camp. Eudorus approached him, looking to his master for orders. "No," Achilles says. "I will do this on my own." Eudorus hands him a coil of braided rope, retracting from his master, and watching as he trots away on his chariot.
The balcony of Troy is filled to the brim with courtiers and generals. Priam sits on his throne under a blue balcony, his counselors scattered around him. Andromache and Helen sit on the thrones next to him, Panthea standing next to her mother. Astyanax is in his mother's lap while Helen holds Alexius and Panthea holds Lyra. Paris stands next to his brother, the two talking quietly to one another. The many courtiers murmur among themselves while the field is dead silent. No soldiers approach the wall, only a lone ride on a chariot. It is not until the rider begin to speak that they know who it is.
"Hector!" the voice exclaims, alerting all who the man is. Panthea's face turns white at the sound of Achilles voice and she darts to the side of the wall to see Achilles.
"Hector!" Achilles yells again. "Hector!" He is beginning to become impatient.
"No," Hector speaks, directing his words to the archers who were preparing to shoot Achilles. He would fight Achilles.
Panthea turns to Hector. "No," she says. "No, no, no. Please do not go. You do not need to do this," she continues as she places her hand on his chest. Hector holds her face in his hands, kissing her forehead before stepping towards his father. Panthea begins to cry, disappearing to the ramparts hoping she can persuade Hector to not fight Achilles after he talks to Priam.
The people of Troy begin to see Greek soldiers looking from afar at the scene. They reached a dune in the sand and were waiting to watch the fight. Hector kneels before his father. "Father…forgive me for any offenses. I've served you as best as I could." Priam leans down in his throne, cradling the back of his son's head, and presses a kiss to his forehead.
"May the gods be with you." Hector nods at his words, no signs of emotion on his or his father's face. Hector goes to depart, but Priam suddenly stands and grasps his arms. "Hector…No father ever had a better son." Hector's face remains blank, but a small smile appears on Priam's features before it is wiped away with a frown.
Hector searches for Glaucus. He wasn't just his father's general, but he was another father to him. "Apollo guard you, my prince." Hector pats the man on the shoulder before shaking his hand in respect. He moves on to Paris.
"You're the best man I know." Hector embraces his brother, the two showing affection to the courtiers before them.
"You're a prince of Troy. I know you'll make me proud." Hector kisses Paris's forehead in a loving brotherly manner before he moves through the crowd to the ramparts.
"Hector!"
Hector descends down the steps of the ramparts, Andromache and Panthea appearing from another staircase as they waited for Hector. Their babes were both in their arms, though Panthea had a wrap around her body to hold Alexius and Lyra. Andromache stepped forward first, Astyanax staring up at his father curiously with his big blue eyes.
"Remember what I told you," Hector speaks. He looks Andromache directly in the eye.
"You don't have to go. You don't," Andromache pleads with him.
"You remember what I told you." Hector's voice is firmer this time. He wants no disagreement between them. Andromache nods her head at him as Hector kisses his son's forehead. He pulls away to embrace Andromache who tries to hide her inner turmoil, but she begins to cry silently as Hector pulls away and continues to walk down the steps of the ramparts.
Again, Hector is bombarded, this time by Panthea who holds both Alexius and Lyra in her arms. She too has a pleading look in her eyes. "You musn't go," she begs. "Don't fight him. You can't fight him." Panthea could not watch the men she loved fight against one another. It was too much for her to bear.
"Panthea," Hector spoke as he walked up to Panthea and held her in his arms, "I have to do this. I cannot just stand idle and reject his proposal. I must do this for my country." He pulls away from her to kiss the forehead of each babe, both of them looking up at him curiously. To be a child and not understand war Hector thought to himself. They have no idea. No worries.
"Remember what I said to you and Andromache." Panthea can only nod her head as silent tears start to fall down her face. Hector kisses her one last time before turning and walking toward the city gates. The gates open to reveal the sandy plains of Troy and Achilles who stands in all his glory. Panthea looks at both men, her eyes blurry as the gates begin to shut.
Hector walked out of the city and onto the plains of Troy, coming face to face with Achilles. They stood there, eyeing one another as the gates of Troy closed behind Hector. He approached Achilles who glared at him angrily, shield and sword already in hand. He was prepared to fight. For a moment, he saw a look of recognition in Achilles' eyes when he saw Panthea, but it was quickly replaced with anger.
The royalty of Troy all stood on the balcony, watching the two warriors. Waiting. Hector is the first to speak. "I've seen this moment in my dreams. I'll make a pact with you. With the gods as our witnesses, let us pledge that the winner will allow the loser all the proper funeral rituals," he spoke clearly. He was honorable in his words, a true prince and a true warrior.
"There are no pacts between lions and men. "Achilles strikes his spear into the ground and removes his helmet. "Now you know who you're fighting." He throws his helmet aggressively on the ground. Panthea reappears on the balcony, peering over the side as she joins Andromache.
Hector also removes his helmet and adjusts his shield in his hand. "I thought it was you I was fighting that day. And I wish it had been you. But he is alive and well now. But Troy will not give him back, not when he is your cousin. He is a prisoner of war. You would have done the same with me."
"You would have given him the honor of your sword if you could have. You could have killed him, but you didn't. You won't have eyes tonight. You won't have ears or a tongue. You'll wander the underworld, blind, deaf, and dumb, and all the dead will know: This is Hector, the fool who thought he fought Achilles and won." Achilles grits his teeth as he speaks, spit coming from his mouth as he talks angrily. "Is she watching? I hope she is so she will see which one of us is the stronger man. And when I have won, I will take her back with me. I will take her and my son with me, and there will be nothing you can do."
Hector remained in place, not letting Achilles' words get a rise out of him. He wouldn't be quick to strike him or begin the battle. That was the last thing he wanted. However, his face was one of rage and Achilles saw. He smirked at the prince, knowing he was holding himself back. Achilles then stepped forward, approaching Hector in battle mode. Hector prepared himself, holding a defensive stance as Achilles lunged at him effortlessly with his spear and dodged around Hector's blade. He was testing him, looking for any sort of weakness. Helen clung to Paris as they watched on the balcony while Andromache and Panthea held each other's hands tightly. Priam looked on proudly.
Achilles struck again, lunging into the air like a lion and striking his spear against Hector's shield. He was merciless in his onslaught, throwing jab after jab at Hector who was merely trying to defend himself. Hector attempted to strike Achilles, but the golden warrior almost plunged his spear into Hector's throat. He then almost struck Hector's side and broke off the top of Hector's spear, leaving Hector with his shield. He continued his furious assault, never faltering. Andromache lets out a sigh of panic and Panthea can see her watching the fight frantically.
Achilles was bombarded by Hector's use of his shield and as he went to strike Hector, his spear was broken, and Hector pulled out his blade from behind his shield. Achilles did the same and Hector had to kneel to avoid the cold steel of Achilles' blade. Achilles was all power while Hector struggled to show the same manpower. He was not as gifted as Achilles. He was not fueled by anger.
The men parried around each other gracefully as they wielded their swords. Steel collided with steel and bronze. Hector went to aim for Achille's legs but was deterred when Achilles elbowed him in the noise abruptly. It unsettled Hector who was overcome by emotion and forgot to defend himself as Achilles once again used brute strength against him. Hector avoided Achilles' blade each time it aimed for him and eventually, he focused all his strength on piercing Achilles' armor. Achilles' looked down, surprised that Hector had managed to scrap his blade across his armor. Hector took his chance and attempted to plunge his blade into Achilles' side, but his arm became stuck in Achilles' shield and he was once more trying to defend himself as he was vulnerable to Achilles' attack. He tripped clumsily over a rock that had been randomly present on the ground, cursing himself for his mistake. Panthea gasps at the sight, hoping Achilles would show mercy.
"Get up, prince of Troy. Get up. I won't let a stone take my glory." Achilles' throws his shield down, only his sword in his hand as Hector pushes himself off the ground. A blade and spear in his hand, Hector rushes at Achilles only to have Achilles' sword slide across his leg. He hissed at the feeling but kept fighting. It was a surface wound. He could handle the sting and continue fighting. Each man dodges the other attack and pull away for a moment, breathing heavily. They are equally matched, no one having caused serious damage to the other's person.
Hector rushes for Achilles once more, steel clashing with steel. Again, no progress is made in the fight. Achilles even pushes Hector away as they both catch their breath before starting again. Achilles manages to extract the spear from Hector's hand and plunges it into the right side of his body, right above his heart. Hector gasps for breath, falling to his knees. He stares up at Achilles, waiting for the final blow. Priam closes his eyes, not willing to see his son die. Paris stares at the scene with no fear, waiting to watch his elder brother die. Andromache's still sits with her back against the wall, Helen staring out over the wall as she sees Hector fall. Panthea has disappeared during the action and Helen searches for her frantically.
Hector looks down at the blade that has pierced is armor before looking at Achilles. His breathing begins to falter, becoming shallower. He knows Achilles is about to kill him. If he doesn't let him die slowly from his wound, surely he will kill him immediately. Achilles prepares his sword, holding it above Hector as he prepares to thrust it directly into Hector's chest. However, he halts at the sound of the city gates opening, his eyes narrowing at the sound.
Panthea appears from between the gates, rushing past them towards Achilles and Hector. The courtiers on the balcony gasp at her appearance on the beach, also surprised when they notice a sword glinting in her hand. Achilles keeps his position, his sword ready to strike Hector who had collapsed before him on his knees. The spear remains imbedded in his upper chest, Hector's breathing becoming more difficult.
"Achilles," Panthea murmurs, "Don't do this." She begs him with her eyes and Achilles can see the love she possesses for Hector.
"Why shouldn't I?" Achilles grits back at her. He is angry, overcome with jealousy that she would come out onto the plains to save Hector.
"He is a good man. He is a son, a husband, and a father. Do not kill him," Panthea speaks. Her eyes dart to Hector for a moment and Achilles tenses at the sight. He grips his sword harder, preparing himself once more.
"So he's a good husband," Achilles says jealously. Panthea raises her eyebrows at him, not believing what he has said.
"He married me to protect me. To protect our son," Panthea utters to him. "Would you rather him not have married me, and me be called a whore and our son a bastard? I would have been just another one of Achilles' whores. Need I remind you that it was you who abandoned me in the woods for the Trojans to find me. And now you show be childish envy at something you have caused. He married me to save me. He saved my reputation."
"How was I supposed to know you were carrying my child?" Achilles responds. "You should have married me, not him. You should be my wife."
"But I'm not," Panthea reminds him.
"Soon you will be," Achilles states before he goes to thrust his sword into Hector chest. He did not expect Panthea to raise her sword at him. He did not expect to her steel clash against steel and have his sword pinned to the ground by hers. Panthea's body was leaning protectively over Hector, a fierce look on her face. "If you kill him, you'll have to kill me first," she states. She pushes Achilles backwards and away from Hector as she takes a stance before him.
The courtiers on the balcony watch on in awe. Priam does not know whether to keep his kingly composure or let out a sigh of relief at his son's rescuer. Andromache peers over the wall, praying to the gods that Hector could be saved. She also hoped Panthea would remain safe for she was the only thing that stood between Hector and death.
"Panthea, move." Achilles glares sharply at Panthea, his pride getting the best of him. "You need to let this happen."
"Let what happen? Let you have eternal glory by killing an innocent man?" Panthea questioned him. She was wary as she watched him, waiting for him to strike. She knew he would, even if he was fighting him. He had an audience watching and he would not be bested by her if he could help it.
Achilles lunged forward, his sword coming towards Panthea's side. She avoided it, not even raising her sword to divert Achilles' weapon away from her. She was in defensive mode, maneuvering around every which way Achilles' thrust his sword. As long as the attention was on her and not Hector, she did not care. Achilles' went for a head shot, Panthea leaning backwards and avoiding the weapon. She knew he was furious now, but she knew that he would never intentionally kill her. He knew she was a skilled swordsman and he was taking his anger out on her.
Achilles continued to aim his sword at Panthea, trying to get to Hector, but it was impossible with her protecting him with her body. He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to hurt Hector who had taken so much from him. Panthea, his son, Patroclus, what else or who else would he take from him? He was so consumed by his thoughts that he didn't realize he had been left vulnerable. Panthea saw it, taking her chance.
Panthea swung her sword, knocking Achilles' weapon out of his hand and to the ground as they parried around each other. She also took the opportunity to elbow Achilles roughly in the chest and knocked his feet out from under him. Panthea stood above him, her sword threateningly held above his chest. Achilles looked up at her, the sun making a halo around her head. "It's done," Panthea spoke. "No more." She didn't wait for Achilles to speak, turning back to Hector who had watched on amazed at the sight before him. Panthea was able to get him to his feet, though he struggled immensely. She tried to hold as much weight as possible. She needed to hurry before an infection set in the wound.
Achilles remained where he was, staring after Panthea as she aided Hector inside the city. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He had been set on killing Hector and now he was watching him enter alive into the city of Troy. He had been bested by Panthea. No one had ever bested him. As he stood up from the ground, he brushed the sand off him and let out a frustrated yell before gathering his weapons and returning to his chariot. He cast one more look up towards the balcony, spotting King Priam looking down on him. The king nodded at him, for what reason Achilles did not know. All he knew was that he was returning to camp empty-handed, the body of Hector not being dragged behind his chariot
A/N: Comments?
