Title: Broken series (Fall to Pieces) 1/4
Author: Gravichick aka Tragictales
Rating: R
Pairings: Achilles/Paris, Hector/Paris
Content/Warnings: M/M situations, language, and violence.
Summary: Paris' selfish whims come to an end when a man from his past begins making regular trips to his rooms. Pre-war.
A/N: Set before, during, and after the war. Takes a look at the darker side of Paris. Feedback is very welcome and muchly appreciated. Italics are thoughts/dreams/ flashbacks. 'word' is for emphasis.
The sun rose early in the morning casting its light across the sandy beach of Troy. The wind picked up blowing that sand about as the waves crashed rushing up the shore and tickling the feet of one, Hector Prince of Troy. Hector started out of his dreamy state sitting up and brushing the sand from his tunic as he went. His hair whipped about his face as he rubbed his eyes then looked out into the ocean. In the distance he could see a lone ship coming. Uncertainty coursed through his veins when he glimpsed the ship.
Aboard was his only living sibling, Paris. He never met this man before and wondered briefly what he would be like. With each moment passing in existence he would love this man as an older brother should but one thought haunted the Trojan warrior's mind. What if this man did not like the life he was now placed in? He tossed that thought aside as he assured himself that anyone would love the life of a Trojan Prince.
"Ah, there he is," the voice of King Priam came from beside Hector. Hector rose quickly to greet his father. Priam looked every bit as anxious as Hector felt.
"How does the morning bid you Father?" Hector asked respectfully.
"It bids me well my beloved son," King Priam said placing a hand on his eldest son's shoulder.
"It seems now that I am not your only beloved child," Hector spoke softly with no jealousy or malice in his voice.
"Hector you will look after him will you not? He will need your guidance as I am sure he knows nothing of court," Priam smiled knowing Hector probably went through the things he intended to teach his new brother many times already.
"I would teach him that and to fight. No Prince of Troy should ever go to battle unskilled," Hector said with a smile pricking his lips.
"Who says there will ever be a battle he will be forced to fight in?" Priam asked.
"No one knows that save for the Gods. But I want him to be ready for the day that I cannot protect him," Hector said.
"That day is a long ways off my son," Priam said calmly though he was truly taken aback by his son's words.
"We do not know that. I can feel it coming and I fear it is not as far as you say it is. I do not know this man, but I swear I will protect him from the moment he sets foot on this beach to the day I can no longer carry a sword and have fallen," Hector responded. A light shudder came from within as the words sunk not only into his soul but into the mind of his father. Would those words really be his downfall?
"Alexandros!" A woman's voice called to him. Alexandros instantly knew it was his mother calling to him. She was in pain. He made a dash forward when a blaze of fire lit before him nipping at his skin. He yelled back at her hoping to ease her pain.
"Mother! I am coming do not fear! Where is father?" Alexandros looked about him for the first time in his dream seeing the hills he roamed everyday and the fields that he tended. He was before his parent's cottage. His father was no where to be seen.
"Dead!" She cried out and he could hear her tears, "He tried to fight them! He tried and they killed him."
"Do not worry mother! I am coming!"
"Alexandros!"
Paris awoke from his fitful sleep lying in a bed covered in elegant sheets. His skin tingled when he sat up and the blankets slipped from his body. He was still dressed in his shepherd's clothing which confused him all the more. He had no idea where he was. The last he could remember was walking home from the fields and finding his home set ablaze. In an instant he was on the ground his head throbbing after receiving a heavy blow. He drifted off into blissful oblivion.
Paris looked around trying to get his bearings. He winced as he leaned forward. He didn't recall any further attacks on his body, but then he had been knocked unconscious and would be unaware of such happenings. His fingers, which had various cuts upon them, touched his covered midsection.
He winced again. There was obviously a bruise there. It was then that he felt the surge of pain down his back. Apparently there were bruises there as well. He wondered exactly why he had been attacked. Before he could let his mind trail over the reasons the sound of doors opening forced him to look up. A man walked inside dressed in nothing but elaborate trousers and sandals.
"Prince Paris," the man dropped into a low bow and Paris looked upon him with horror. This man was mistaking him for royalty. When the man continued to stand in the lowered position Paris moved quickly from the bed and pulled him up by his shoulders.
"Do not kneel before me for I am no Prince. Where are my parents?"
The man only laughed at him, "You are as much a Prince as I am your servant my lord."
Paris looked upon him in confusion aware that the man had avoided his question, "I do not understand this at all. Where are my parents? Why was my home laid to ruins? Who are you? Where am I?"
The servant reeled at the questions thrown at him and took a step back. He was unsure as to what he could and could not reveal to Paris. Keeping his eyes down he decided to handle the situation lightly, "What is your name kind sir?"
"Alexandros I am a shepherd. I am no Prince!" Paris yelled.
"You were not born a shepherd. When did you come to your parents Alexandros?"
"When I was very young in my own memory I cannot know. I was adopted by them," Paris said.
"You do not know your real father. Find it in your mind to see the possibilities. King Priam is your true father. You are a Prince of Troy by birth and was given away to your foster parents. They named you Alexandros. Does this not fit logically?" The servant asked.
"Where are--"
"They are dead," the servant said finally.
"Dead?" Paris repeated. It could not be true. This had to be a horrible dream.
"Yes, dead. Thier bodies were cremated upon our departure," he replied.
"No..." Paris' eyes began to prickle with tears as he lamented the death of those he loved.
"Does the story not fit?"
"It fits but it cannot be true. I refuse to believe that this King is my father nor do I wish to believe he is a kind man," Paris snapped bitterly.
"Why is this?"
"What kind of father would lay waste to the home his son has come to know and kill the parents he has come to love? I will not love this man as I loved my father. He is cruel and looking for a way to exert his power," Paris' eyes blazed with fury.
"The King is not as you say," the servant tried to change the Prince's mind.
"Leave me be," Paris yelled at the servant, the regal tone in his voice caused the servant to drop down to his knees. He had heard that tone many a time before and whether the Prince knew how he spoke or not it was evident that royalty was in his blood.
"As you wish my lord. I would only inform you that we are rapidly approaching shore. Your--King Priam will be there to greet you on the beach and welcome you home," the servant said while backing out. It was only until he exited the door that he stood to his full height and walked away. Paris paced the room at length not taking a moment to examine the finery. His mind was at work.
"I will avenge my parents they did not deserve to die because of my lineage. This King Priam has taken me from my life and my home I will not grant him my love nor my respect," he stopped pacing when he could hear shouting from above. The servant had not been wrong, they were approaching the beach. If he were to get revenge for the life stolen from him there could only be one way. To destroy this King and those he held dear.
Paris strode towards the doorway of his cabin replacing the loss of his parents with the vehement need for vengeance.
End Fall to Pieces
Author: Gravichick aka Tragictales
Rating: R
Pairings: Achilles/Paris, Hector/Paris
Content/Warnings: M/M situations, language, and violence.
Summary: Paris' selfish whims come to an end when a man from his past begins making regular trips to his rooms. Pre-war.
A/N: Set before, during, and after the war. Takes a look at the darker side of Paris. Feedback is very welcome and muchly appreciated. Italics are thoughts/dreams/ flashbacks. 'word' is for emphasis.
The sun rose early in the morning casting its light across the sandy beach of Troy. The wind picked up blowing that sand about as the waves crashed rushing up the shore and tickling the feet of one, Hector Prince of Troy. Hector started out of his dreamy state sitting up and brushing the sand from his tunic as he went. His hair whipped about his face as he rubbed his eyes then looked out into the ocean. In the distance he could see a lone ship coming. Uncertainty coursed through his veins when he glimpsed the ship.
Aboard was his only living sibling, Paris. He never met this man before and wondered briefly what he would be like. With each moment passing in existence he would love this man as an older brother should but one thought haunted the Trojan warrior's mind. What if this man did not like the life he was now placed in? He tossed that thought aside as he assured himself that anyone would love the life of a Trojan Prince.
"Ah, there he is," the voice of King Priam came from beside Hector. Hector rose quickly to greet his father. Priam looked every bit as anxious as Hector felt.
"How does the morning bid you Father?" Hector asked respectfully.
"It bids me well my beloved son," King Priam said placing a hand on his eldest son's shoulder.
"It seems now that I am not your only beloved child," Hector spoke softly with no jealousy or malice in his voice.
"Hector you will look after him will you not? He will need your guidance as I am sure he knows nothing of court," Priam smiled knowing Hector probably went through the things he intended to teach his new brother many times already.
"I would teach him that and to fight. No Prince of Troy should ever go to battle unskilled," Hector said with a smile pricking his lips.
"Who says there will ever be a battle he will be forced to fight in?" Priam asked.
"No one knows that save for the Gods. But I want him to be ready for the day that I cannot protect him," Hector said.
"That day is a long ways off my son," Priam said calmly though he was truly taken aback by his son's words.
"We do not know that. I can feel it coming and I fear it is not as far as you say it is. I do not know this man, but I swear I will protect him from the moment he sets foot on this beach to the day I can no longer carry a sword and have fallen," Hector responded. A light shudder came from within as the words sunk not only into his soul but into the mind of his father. Would those words really be his downfall?
"Alexandros!" A woman's voice called to him. Alexandros instantly knew it was his mother calling to him. She was in pain. He made a dash forward when a blaze of fire lit before him nipping at his skin. He yelled back at her hoping to ease her pain.
"Mother! I am coming do not fear! Where is father?" Alexandros looked about him for the first time in his dream seeing the hills he roamed everyday and the fields that he tended. He was before his parent's cottage. His father was no where to be seen.
"Dead!" She cried out and he could hear her tears, "He tried to fight them! He tried and they killed him."
"Do not worry mother! I am coming!"
"Alexandros!"
Paris awoke from his fitful sleep lying in a bed covered in elegant sheets. His skin tingled when he sat up and the blankets slipped from his body. He was still dressed in his shepherd's clothing which confused him all the more. He had no idea where he was. The last he could remember was walking home from the fields and finding his home set ablaze. In an instant he was on the ground his head throbbing after receiving a heavy blow. He drifted off into blissful oblivion.
Paris looked around trying to get his bearings. He winced as he leaned forward. He didn't recall any further attacks on his body, but then he had been knocked unconscious and would be unaware of such happenings. His fingers, which had various cuts upon them, touched his covered midsection.
He winced again. There was obviously a bruise there. It was then that he felt the surge of pain down his back. Apparently there were bruises there as well. He wondered exactly why he had been attacked. Before he could let his mind trail over the reasons the sound of doors opening forced him to look up. A man walked inside dressed in nothing but elaborate trousers and sandals.
"Prince Paris," the man dropped into a low bow and Paris looked upon him with horror. This man was mistaking him for royalty. When the man continued to stand in the lowered position Paris moved quickly from the bed and pulled him up by his shoulders.
"Do not kneel before me for I am no Prince. Where are my parents?"
The man only laughed at him, "You are as much a Prince as I am your servant my lord."
Paris looked upon him in confusion aware that the man had avoided his question, "I do not understand this at all. Where are my parents? Why was my home laid to ruins? Who are you? Where am I?"
The servant reeled at the questions thrown at him and took a step back. He was unsure as to what he could and could not reveal to Paris. Keeping his eyes down he decided to handle the situation lightly, "What is your name kind sir?"
"Alexandros I am a shepherd. I am no Prince!" Paris yelled.
"You were not born a shepherd. When did you come to your parents Alexandros?"
"When I was very young in my own memory I cannot know. I was adopted by them," Paris said.
"You do not know your real father. Find it in your mind to see the possibilities. King Priam is your true father. You are a Prince of Troy by birth and was given away to your foster parents. They named you Alexandros. Does this not fit logically?" The servant asked.
"Where are--"
"They are dead," the servant said finally.
"Dead?" Paris repeated. It could not be true. This had to be a horrible dream.
"Yes, dead. Thier bodies were cremated upon our departure," he replied.
"No..." Paris' eyes began to prickle with tears as he lamented the death of those he loved.
"Does the story not fit?"
"It fits but it cannot be true. I refuse to believe that this King is my father nor do I wish to believe he is a kind man," Paris snapped bitterly.
"Why is this?"
"What kind of father would lay waste to the home his son has come to know and kill the parents he has come to love? I will not love this man as I loved my father. He is cruel and looking for a way to exert his power," Paris' eyes blazed with fury.
"The King is not as you say," the servant tried to change the Prince's mind.
"Leave me be," Paris yelled at the servant, the regal tone in his voice caused the servant to drop down to his knees. He had heard that tone many a time before and whether the Prince knew how he spoke or not it was evident that royalty was in his blood.
"As you wish my lord. I would only inform you that we are rapidly approaching shore. Your--King Priam will be there to greet you on the beach and welcome you home," the servant said while backing out. It was only until he exited the door that he stood to his full height and walked away. Paris paced the room at length not taking a moment to examine the finery. His mind was at work.
"I will avenge my parents they did not deserve to die because of my lineage. This King Priam has taken me from my life and my home I will not grant him my love nor my respect," he stopped pacing when he could hear shouting from above. The servant had not been wrong, they were approaching the beach. If he were to get revenge for the life stolen from him there could only be one way. To destroy this King and those he held dear.
Paris strode towards the doorway of his cabin replacing the loss of his parents with the vehement need for vengeance.
End Fall to Pieces