Hector had dreams about this moment.; he had nightmares about this moment, and now it was finally here. While he'd wondered and worried about what Paris' reaction would be, he thought he was prepared for anything. Now, the look on Paris' face took away this confidence in that. Paris' expression was one of disbelief and, well, annoyance.

"Stop trying to be funny, Hector," he finally said. "I know you're trying to make me feel better, but don't sidestep my question."

He didn't believe him. 'Well, did you really expect him to?' Hector scolded himself. Aloud he said, "Paris, I'm not trying to be funny and I'm not trying to sidestep any questions. I'm trying to explain the situation to you, and this is the truth: I truly am your father."

Paris' voice shook a little. "Stop it, Hector," he said warningly.

Hector looked him straight in the eye. "I was fourteen," he stated firmly. "It was over sixteen years ago, but I could still describe to the tiniest detail what your face looked like. You were -" his voice started to waver with emotion - "you were the most incredible thing I'd ever seen."

Paris sucked in a deep breath. And then another, and another. He's starting to hyperventilate, Hector realized. The man lunged forward, grabbing one of Paris' arm and rubbing gentle circles on his back. "Relax," he instructed. "If you don't relax and breathe normally, you'll pass out."

"Get away from me!" Paris screamed, shoving Hector away. He pushed with so much force that Hector went sprawling to the floor and he himself stumbled onto his hands and knees. Hector sat up and saw him on all fours, his body visibly shaking. "You liar!" the boy shouted. His voice broke and the shakes were now accompanied by sobs. "You liar..."

Scuffling could be heard outside and the door burst open. Achilles ran into the room with his sword drawn and Odysseus trying to restrain him. The sword froze in his hands when he took in the scene before him: both Trojans were on the floor, crying.

"I'm sorry," Hector sobbed. Paris stayed frozen in place, refusing to look at his newfound father. "I love you. I love you so much I'm sometimes surprised there's room inside of me for anything besides that. I loved you from the moment I knew you were coming. You were my baby; I wanted everything for you. And I made a horrible mistake trying to do it. He told me that he'd protect you, and I believed him. Oh Apollo, I let him have my Alexandros to turn into his Paris!"

Achilles' mouth fell open in shock as the realized what Hector was talking about.

Slowly, Paris looked over at Hector. "You abandoned me," he choked out. "Not just once, but for all of my life. You, you were so busy with your own life that you only saw me when I happened to pop into your mind."

"No," Hector declared, shaking his head vehemently. "Father never wanted me to see you. He said it wasn't a good for either of us if we got too attached to each other, but I couldn't not see you." Paris remained silent, but didn't look away. "I snuck into your chambers, bribed guards, and did some things I'm not very proud of," Hector continued. "But I'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it were the only way I could see you. I couldn't lose you wholly; I needed to be with you, to hold you, even if it was only as a brother."

Paris inched forward and hesitantly put his hand on Hector's arm. Hector looked down at the hand and then into Paris' eyes. "I didn't do this so that I would be rid of you," he said. "I've felt like I was dying a little every day since the day Father took you from me, but I thought you were better off. I could never abandon you without cutting out my own heart. I love you."

He tentatively moved his hand to Paris' shoulder; Paris remained still. Realizing he wouldn't be recoiled, Hector wrapped his arms around the boy. He felt Paris stiffen, but then relax into the embrace 'He knows I'm his father,' he thought, 'and he's still letting me hold him. He let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and tightened his arms around his son. Odysseus, realizing that the two needed their privacy, managed to lead a stunned and mesmerized Achilles back outside.

Paris looked up at Hector. "I have so many questions," he said.

"I'll answer whatever question you ask me," Hector promised.

"Where is my mother?" Paris asked. "It's obvious that Father - Grandfather - Priam - what do I call him now? Or you?"

"Call us whatever feels right," replied Hector. "I can still be Hector to you if you'd like, and you can still call him 'father', if that's more comfortable for you."

"He was never my father," said Paris darkly. "Not ever. But that's not important right now; what's important is that he didn't think you were capable of raising me, even with the help of a nanny. He obviously doesn't care much about me. So why am I with him and not living in anonymity with my mother. Is she Andromache?"

"No," Hector answered. "I didn't meet Andromache until years after all of this. Your mother was a servant named Ianthe; you're not with her because she's, she died." Hector told him everything he told the nobles the day the truth came out, about his mother, their relationship, her death, and how Priam ended up claiming him.

"Why did he take me?" wondered Paris. "Why not just kill me?

"Because he does love us," said Hector. Paris gave him a hard look and Hector amended his statement. "He loves you in the way that he loves me, and the way he loved my mother: as possessions, firmly under his control. He took you so he could feel like he had control over the situation with Ianthe, so he could control me in the future, and because you're a piece of me and he wanted to control you too. But I'm certain he sees as much of your mother as he does of me when he looks at you. He hated her, called her a..."

"A whore?" Paris supplied. Hector nodded. "And that's why he was just going to stand there and watch when Lord Isidore raped me on my eighteenth birthday?"

"I can only tell you what I believe he was thinking," Hector told him. "I can't tell you why he thought those things."

Paris sat up and looked him straight in the eye. "Did you know what he - they - were planning on doing to me?" he demanded.

"No," declared Hector. "If I'd known, Father would now be a crippled beggar in a foreign land and Lord Isidore would be dead."

Paris believed him; he could tell by the look in his eye. The boy turned and relaxed into his arms again. They were silent for a long time before Paris spoke again. "You are truly my father." There was a little bit of a question in his statement.

"I am," Hector affirmed.

He could hear the smile in Paris' voice when he replied, "I think I'm glad about that."

#######################

A surprise greeted Hector and Paris when they came to the beach. Next to the Trojan ship that brought the prince and Odysseus to that land was another ship, this one being readied to sail by Myrmidons. Odysseus and Achilles were standing several feet away from all the activity, waiting for the two to arrive.

"What's going on?" Paris asked Achilles.

Achilles smiled warmly at him. "We saved everyone some time," he reported. Paris raised an eyebrow. "We two were going to have a fight," Odysseus explained, "because you need to go back to Troy, at least for the time being, with your father here and he doesn't want you to leave. You two would have had a huge argument, during which Achilles would've ranted and raved while you tried to be patient at first and then lost your temper. Then you would have yelled at each other until I, the sly fox that I am, broke it up, forced him to listen to reason, and worked out a compromise. Since I went through all that in my head, we can skip the argument and come straight to the compromise: You're going back to Troy like you need to do, and Achilles - and his men - are coming with you."

"What?" Hector asked, bewildered.

Achilles looked him in the eye. "I'm not a raping, pillaging brute, no matter what you've heard," he said. "I did what I did because I couldn't leave someone I'm in love with at the mercy of a father planned on whoring him. I can, however, offer my allegiance to a father who loves him, as long as said father doesn't try to get in the way of our relationship."

Hector smiled, feeling for the first time that he could like the Greek. "No matter what happens," he promised, "you have my blessing to be with my son."

"I don't need it," replied Achilles blithely. "But it's nice to have.

To be continued...

A/N: I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank all my viewers! There are a couple of things that came up in some reviews that I'll address right now.

bradleigh: Thanks for letting me know about the error in the first line of chapter 6. Achilles is most definitely a "he" (even if he did dress up like a girl in "The Iliad") :)

Artemicion: I don't believe I've read anything by Melanie Rawls (although some interesting items came up when I did a search on her). I came up with the name "Ianthe" by looking through an old baby name book for names with Greek origins.