Achilles may have been bold to the point of reckless, but she wasn't stupid; he knew a force would follow when he spirited away the youngest prince of Troy. He wouldn't leave the beach of his homeland undefended. Both Hector and Odysseus knew this and that's why they weren't surprised to be see a troop of Myrmidons waiting for them before their ship even ran aground. The Trojan warriors who accompanied the two now looked on with unease as Hector and Odysseus went ashore without them and walked directly to the head of the opposing troops.

"Where is Achilles?" Odysseus asked, speaking loud enough so that everyone on the beach could hear him.

Eudores, Achilles second-in-command and head of the beach troops stepped forward. "Achilles is otherwise occupied," he reported in a clipped tone. "He gave me orders to have the men hold the beach against those who-" he sneered at Hector - "trespass."

"I would see Prince Paris," said Hector, forcing his voice to be as calm, steady, and non-threatening as it could be. Ever since he made sure Andromache and Astyanax would be kept safe by men loyal to him in the countryside away from the city, Hector's thoughts and worries had been focused almost solely on his eldest son. If this anticipation and frustration didn't end soon, he was going to claw his own skin off!

"I'm sure you would," Eudores replied sarcastically. "But unless Achilles gave you leave to do so, the only way you're leaving this beach is in the ship that brought you here. No, there's another way: dead, if you try to fight us."

"Let me talk to Achilles," requested Odysseus.

"I will remain on the beach," added Hector, before Eudores could retort. The prince turned around to face his ship. "Soldiers of Troy! No matter what happens, you are not to leave the ship unless the Lord Achilles gives you leave to do so!" He turned back to Eudores. "I don't want a fight here; I just want to see Paris."

Eudores looked doubtful, but a figure not too far behind him spoke up. "I'll take you to see Achilles, King Odysseus." It was the warrior's cousin, Patroclus. The other Myrmidons looked at him reproachfully, but he refused to look uncomfortable. "You may be an old fox," the young man continued, almost smiling as he raised his voice so all could hear him, "but you are also his friend. I'm sure you can entrust Prince Hector to these fine men while you talk to my cousin."

With one last look at the Trojan prince, Odysseus followed Patroclus to yard outside Achilles' home. The young man took a few steps forward, toward the door, but then hesitated and turned around to look the king in the eye. "Why are you traveling with that Trojan," he asked. "Why do you want to risk my cousin's wrath by speaking on his behalf?"

"Partly because Achilles and Paris don't know the whole story," answered Odysseus. "There are things that both of them, especially Paris, need to know. But mostly because I think I'd rather die a thousand deaths on Achilles' sword during his worst moods than go through all that Hector has gone through."

Confused by this declaration and disturbed by the gravity Odysseus gave it, Patroclus rushed inside the house. A moment later, he reemerged with Achilles. With a slight bow, Patroclus ran off in the direction of the beach. Odysseus gave the warrior a slight smile, but Achilles made no move away from the door. "Paris is sleeping," he said curtly. "I won't let anyone disturb him."

Odysseus nodded more to acknowledge the statement than to agree with what was said. "I came to ask you to give Hector of Troy leave to see Paris," he stated.

"No."

Odysseus refused to be deterred. "Why not?"

"Hector would take him back to the city," answered Achilles. "He would deliver him back into the control of their father, to be a prostitute for the nobles and a prize for foreign kings who submit to Troy. He probably knew about Priam's plan for a long time."

"No, he didn't," Odysseus told him with so much force that Achilles looked startled. "If you'd have seen Hector's reaction when I told him what his father said, you would know that's not true."

Achilles shook his head stubbornly. "Maybe he didn't know," he conceded, "but that doesn't change the fact that he wants to take the person I love away from here and back to Troy."

"He wants to see Paris," insisted Odysseus. "He wants to know that he's all right. I don't doubt that he'd like the boy to come with him, but he won't take him by force." He could see Achilles doubt wavering and went in for the kill: "You can stay right outside the door if that would give you peace of mind. Hector won't be able to harm Paris, nor steal him away without your knowing it."

Achilles' face scrunched with frustration as his resolve crumbled. "Very well," he spat out reluctantly. "But I'm not going to move from this spot while he's in there, unless it's to kill him. You may go fetch him."

"Thank you." With those words, Odysseus rushed off.

Achilles sighed and went inside, walking to the bedroom. He already regretted agreeing to this, but the only thing he could do now was wake the boy who was stretched out naked in the bed before him, sleeping contentedly. He knelt down and stroked Paris' cheek. Paris' eyes fluttered opened and looked up. The boy smiled and murmured, "Good morning."

"Good morning, indeed," Achilles smiled back. He leaned forward and kissed Paris lightly on the lips.

Paris frowned. "What's wrong?" he questioned.

"What makes you thing anything is wrong?"

Paris smiled playfully at him. "That's not the good morning kiss I'm used to," he said seductively. "The good morning kisses you usually give generally keep us in bed for another hour or so." His tone changed to one of concern. "Achilles, what's wrong?" he repeated.

"Nothing. Probably," Achilles amended with a sigh. "Your brother arrived this morning. He wants to see you."

Paris' face brightened. "Hector's here?" His smile faltered. "Is he going to take me back to Troy?"

"Not while I still breathe," Achilles promised.

"I would like to see him," Paris declared. He sat up and frowned. " Although I should probably have some clothes on when I do so."

Just as Paris finished getting dressed there was a knock at the door. Achilles looked at his young lover, silently willing him to change his mind. Seeing that it was futile, he opened the door and found Odysseus standing there with Hector at his side. The Trojan prince ignored the warrior entirely, rushing past him and embracing Paris, clutching the boy as if he feared he would disappear if he didn't hold on to him tightly. Odysseus threw Achilles a look that the warrior couldn't read before leading him outside.

Paris returned Hector's hug. "I missed you so much," he said. The older man didn't respond, but Paris could feel tremors running through his body.

Hector broke the hug but didn't move away. Instead, he held Paris' face with both hands. Paris saw that his face was red and his cheeks were wet with tears. He'd never seen Hector cry; before now, he wouldn't have been able to imagine it. His face wore an expression of relief that was almost painful to look at.

Guilt rushed over Paris for causing Hector so much anguish. "I'm sorry," He said. "I didn't mean to put you through this, but I couldn't stay there. Father -"

Hector shut his eyes and kissed Paris' brow. "I know."

Paris moved a few steps back, freeing his face from Hector's hands. "He wants to whore me," he whispered brokenly. "My own father thinks I'm nothing but a whore."

"Paris," said Hector quietly. "I need to tell you something; something that will help you understand this whole situation."

The boy looked up sharply. "Pray tell me," he said sarcastically, "what I'm misinterpreting about this situation."

"Paris-"

"No," he interrupted. "What don't I know that could possibly help me understand all of this?"

"He's not your father, Paris," Hector blurted out. "Priam is not your father. I am."

To be continued...