Forbidden Gods

XIV. Meeting a Stranger

Paris lifted the girl off of him to be courteous then bound for his skirt and sword. She still clanged on to the light wool chiffon. "Go!" he cried to the girl and she ran out of the room along with the rest of the party. Just when the sword's hilt was in his hands he spun around to be inanimate with another point on his throat.

It was Achilles and his keen position, looking that he was about to strike at Paris. "Hello my prince." He spoke casually. For the first time Paris stared at him with dismay.

Achilles killed the soldiers long ago before he opened the door, just much to look inside. There he saw a party and thought he was in the wrong room but then he saw an arm lift up in the dense party he stopped. It was a girl's but then was greeted by Paris' tongue. At first he thought this wasn't realistic and imagined that it was a servant that looked like him, but it wasn't. He stood aloof by the doorway, not knowing that he opened it too far for an overseer to glance at the fallen bodies.

Now he stood before his offensive lover; anger surged through his veins. He felt that Paris was patronizing him. First he feared that Paris wouldn't take him back and now he sees that Paris forgotten about him completely. "I longed to see you again and this is what I got?! You, fucking a whore!!" Achilles was waiting for a look of sorry but none came.

Paris carried eyes that gave off a barbaric mood, and he was obvious to his sullenness. He didn't say anything to Achilles, and knowing that Paris was no threat with a sword he dropped his languidly. "Why? I've waited for you to come." Achilles now knew of Paris' behavior. "It doesn't take 3 months to get me Achilles!!" he screamed. He dropped his sword at Achilles' feet then moved his way to the rest of his clothes.

This was a strange innovation for Achilles, after three months it was like their love corrosion away, leaving only consumed anger and isolation between the other. This was not in my procedure. I thought of everything in the system, except this. He sat on a nearby chair and hung his head for his hands to carry them, because right now not even his neck can carry himself straight. It was like his arteries were weeping, clogged up with tears and making his heart weak.

He watched Paris fully clothe himself with refinery and domestic taste. He then looked around the room. The volume was large and just the diameter of the bed was beyond belief. "How many bitches could you fit in that thing!" he spoke coldly to Paris. It only made Paris more hateful of Achilles' existence. "What were you contending to come for, Achilles?"

"I wanted to come for you! But looks like my obstacle for an efficient escape wasn't good enough for you! It was you that didn't want the plan to be sloppy like you did with that Helen." "'oh no! we'll be caught Achilles, it must have no flaws what so ever to get me.'" Achilles mimicked Paris. The prince stopped dressing and now saw whose fault it was. "I didn't want it that" he began. "Yah! You didn't want it that long either. You know what Paris, I think you want a damn little too much for any man to satisfy you!!"

Paris assembled his tunic then turned his way to Achilles. Obviously, Achilles could see Paris was crying at his words. His look wasn't elusive anymore but sympathetic. Achilles knew he said enough and abandoned the chair to Paris. A portion of Paris' tear was running down his cheek, but Achilles caught it before it fell off his face. He traced its trail to wipe it away. Paris now definitely did not want Achilles to feel this way. Truly he, like Helen, didn't really care if the plan would work with them surviving. He just wanted to go to a destination with Achilles to love him, even if they knew people would scour down the land for them.

"I sorry." He whispered, barely enough for Achilles to hear him. Achilles couldn't decline Paris' apology, he was forever in debt to him. The warrior didn't say anything, instead he lightly kissed Paris' forehead with affection. Despite what they did to one another, they could never extract their love and devotion for each other.

"Has it been really 3 months, because I was just guessing?" Achilles confessed. It made Paris laugh considerably. Their tension now eased, Achilles thought it would be a perfect time for something; since it wasn't night out and no lord here.

Slowly Achilles dislodged Paris' pins that held up his sheer tunic, which soon fluttered to the floor. A devilish smile lit up Achilles' face and so did Paris'. The prince grabbed Achilles by the breast plate to converge him into himself then kissed deeply, for they longed to do so for many a nights. They faltered to Paris' bed, which Achilles desperately wanted to try out. The fabric of the bed was in good maintenance; which was typical, but to acquire Paris' skin next to his achieved the feeling he got in his dreams. "I've dreamt this ever since I left you." He whispered tenderly. Achilles didn't have to say that, because Paris could have felt it under his skirt since it was so prominent.

They made love passionately all day and didn't care if an accidental pedestrian came walked by the room noticing the loud moans. It was some feeble servant that happened to notice the three dead bodies outside of Paris' room. He peered in to see two shapes groping each other. From his outlook, a vagabond must have come in to make love to an eligible servant girl or that it was a servant girl that killed these men and it was the prince she was with. The thought didn't relish his mind that much; all he was required to do was watch the prince. And since this was being done in the prince's room, he fled to his financial leader to warn.

The news monopolized quickly to Agamemnon's ears and sent him storming out of the meeting to attend to this defect.

"Paris why are you getting dress?" Achilles whined as he watched his love put on his clothes after he began tried to dress him. "You must go! I've forgot to close the door, and with it being open I doubt that our noise was exclusive to others in this palace. I wouldn't be surprised if it was universal."

Achilles grabbed his hands that held his skirt and fought with him playfully, but didn't find his resistance funny. "Stop! Don't you understand, all of this could be blown out of proportion just because we forgot to close a door! You must leave promptly before Agamemnon's rodents come after us." Achilles grabbed Paris' hands again only this time more forceful it hurt Paris.

The prince looked him in the eye and Achilles could see this particular situation could lead to multiple deaths if they were caught. Meaning not Achilles life would end, but also Paris'. Achilles jumped out of the bed as if it were lethal to him then effectively threw on his clothes. "I will go to my colleagues for the evening, and when the sun is down, then will come for you at the right preliminary. Don't fear anymore, this distance is only temperament." Paris understood, except the factor that he had managed to get help. He usually never had any help except from his favorite component, which was a sword.

The prince led his warrior through the palace halls, in and out of its burrows, since he knew it well as his habitat. "You can find me at my balcony." proposed Paris.

"I know, I know! Gods, you think I would be immune to your worry by now." teased Achilles, making Paris smile. They were standing under an arch leading out to the woods where Achilles could use for cover to go into the city. "Tell me when you will get me." Paris demanded. Just to know Achilles exact time when he will come for him diluted his toxin of doubt. "When the moon is clear above the city, but not yet above us." Achilles reminded him. "Which won't be long, so go now and get ready for the long journey home. Go!" Paris left Achilles and climbed the stairs, retracing their route. Achilles watched him go then moved on.

Just when he was properly clear from under the archway and out in the open, a large group of guards and archers materialized before him on both sides. Achilles was utterly taken by surprise that he was surrounded. He didn't have to peer intently through the methodical killers of men to see Agamemnon. "Hello Achilles." He said contently.