Forbidden Gods

II. A New Alliance

That night Achilles didn't sleep. He thought of many excuses he could think of other then to sleep in that tent. I'm just keeping watch. You don't know that there might be some angry assassins out there. He convinced himself that, and carried on, walking through the rows upon rows of identical tents.

Ever thing was quiet. Not the rummage of men in their bed, or the waves from the cliffs, or even the stirring of an animal could be heard that night. This was the hour that only the dead walk. And that's what Achilles thought of himself, dead. He had nothing, and Paris was right, the prince had something that will forever give his life meaning; even if Helen isn't alive today. The only thing Achilles loved was killing. But there was also something else, his mother. He never knew his father and his mother claimed that he never had one. That he was a gift from the gods and not by any man, which is why Achilles' strength or greatness could never be matched to any mortal. And that thought alone, kept him going.

An abandoned table lay isolated before him. (Probably left from a party of drunken friends, rejoicing that they are alive today) The warrior sat down and began staring into the wood. And he sat there without moving, looking for answers that the wood might tell him all night. But the table never answered and dawn began to approach.

Soon one lone solider crawled out from his quarters, stretching, and cursing for the pain in his lower back in the early morning. It seemed like every minuet or two; another body would come from their den and wake up. For the first 3 hours of day, all were awaken and shaking off the wine they drank last night. Soon Achilles thought it was too crowded, and his time for himself crept away. And so did he.

He began retracing his steps from last night but on his way an argument from the king's tent caught his focus. Angry voices were heard, but not audible to know what they were saying. Achilles just causally walked in the tent. The guards that stood at its entrance watched him walk in and their protests were drowned by their fear of him.

The argument was between brother and brother. "I want him dead! There is nothing else for his existence. Why must you keep him breathing" Menelaus roared. Agamemnon seemed tired by his brother's arrogance. "Aren't you tired of death yet? He is no longer harm to you, or your dignity." The younger brother had wanted to say much more, but all of it would kill him for sure, brother or not. He charged out of the camp and brushed past Achilles without word or glances, and Agamemnon sat on his throne. "Bickering already and its not even noon." Agamemnon ignored Achilles' teasing.

"When are we prepared to leave for home?" Achilles questioned, dropping the matter that is none of his business. Agamemnon stoked his beard, thinking of the time when the wind will be in their favor, and the time it will take to prepare. "In about 4 days from now. I have ordered that the men to begin packing all that we brought." Achilles felt a little sorry for the king to have to deal with such an arrogant brother, and just left for him to let him be.

There was no where else left but his tent and he made his way there no matter how much he didn't want to. As he entered, Paris was looking at the point where he dashed for yesterday and seemed to not have moved for many hours. He didn't even pay attention when Achilles came in.

Achilles looked at the ropes to see if they held and then at Paris. He noticed that the prince as been crying and still is. His face was tear stained and tears continued to silently drip from his eyes. Achilles' heart began to tremble with sadness to see something so young to be so sad, but the warrior's face still had an angry look in his eyes. He began his way towards the prince and grabbed a container of water from a trunk and sat down next to him. Paris was shocked by his movements and looked at him with question.

The warrior thrust the container at him and knew it indicated his believes. 'If your going to leak out water, drink some more to cease it' I know it doesn't make sense, but Achilles always drunk some form of liquid when he was sad and it seemed to help him wind down. Paris only drank one sip and held the container in his hands and stared at it. "Have you ever lost something you loved?" Achilles took his eyes away from his forward view and turned towards Paris. The prince looked at him with his chocolate eyes blood shot from crying. Achilles shifted his seating nervously.

He cleared his voice before he began to speak. "No." Achilles didn't look at him, which meant he was lying. Paris continued searching the truth in his eyes. After a long moment passed Achilles knew the prince believed he was lying. He sighed, he wasn't good at lying. "My mother." Achilles looked down ashamed. He was never supposed to reveal his weaknesses, but he believed the prince wasn't going to live long anyway to know for long.

The prince's eyes fell from Achilles. "I never knew my mother...But I guess it feels the same when you lose a brother and father." Achilles turned his eyes from the floor to Paris' and Paris looked back. The prince gave the weakest smile and then began staring off in his lap. Achilles continued to look at him. For the first in a long, the shell that he constructed around himself; that had so long suffocated him; broke when he saw the smile from that the prince gave to him. It felt like a huge load is finally off his shoulders and that he could now take a full breath of relive and life. He never wanted that feeling to disappear and it was this weeping prince that gave him his freedom. It looks like Achilles made a new friend.