Breseis smiled like a cat and reached a hand over toward me. Gesturing, she commanded: "Come here, boy." I obeyed warily, not liking the sashed woman's tone or vibes. She patted the cushions next to her, and I lowered myself down slowly.

"Now, that's better," she purred, stroking my head. "What's your name, pet?"

"Chrysaor," I said, wiggling away from her hand. Grabbing my tunic's collar in a no-nonsense way, she hauled me back beside herself. "Don't leave, pet. We're only getting to know each other," she cooed.

My nerves were jangling uncomfortably, and I wanted to leap up and run away from the woman. 'I'm a girl, I'm a girl, I'm a girl,' kept running through my head, and I hoped Breseis was good at mind-reading.

Instead of heeding my desperate mind-pleas, she trapped my face between her hands. "Oooh, you are a pretty one," she said excitedly. "What a pretty young boy you are!"

The only thing that came out of my mouth was a frantic "Ehhh…" Where in Hades was Achilles when you needed him?

A second later, my prayers were answered. Sort of. Achilles, obviously better at picking up thoughts then Breseis, walked through the tent doors. However, Breseis didn't have the reaction of leaping back from me at the sight of him that I had hoped for. Instead, she turned my head to face Achilles. "Isn't he gorgeous?" she shrilled in joy. "Where did you find him? Can I play with him, please? Please?" she begged, and Achilles looked over.

Taking in my face as my eyes shouted at him to help, he raised an eyebrow. "Breseis, let him go. The poor boy's crying out for help." She frowned, but released my face. Sighing, I rubbed feeling back into my cheeks. "But I like him!" she protested, standing up and tiptoeing over to Achilles. "Please? Just to train him. Can I have him? Please? For a week?" She hung on his arm, and he shook her off. "Look at him," he urged. "He's practically cracking. Breseis, he's only a baby. And besides, I need a standard boy. He's doing well. I don't want to have to get another after you break him."

"I wouldn't break him, " she pouted, but Achilles shook his head, putting his foot down. "No, Breseis. Go find another boy to torment." She huffed and stalked out of the large tent, and Achilles shuffled some maps and scrolls. Looking over to where I was still frozen on the pillows, he shot me a look. "Still a virgin, then?"

"Eeep."

Shaking his head, he smiled softly down at the maps on the tabletop.

I turned in front of the bronze mirror, examining the leather armor-plated skirt that Ajax had fitted for me. My anklet clanged against my sandal top, and the giant winced behind me.

The leather fell to my knees, a little long, but the best they could do on such short notice. And it was just fine for me, seeing as it wasn't my money that was paying for it. Achilles gestured, shaking a hand from side to side. "It'll do for now. He might grow into it, anyway."

Ajax snorted. "He's a stripling, Achilles. It's not like he's going to grow to be the oak tree I am. I'd even be surprised if he grows again at all."

Achilles narrowed his eyes at my reflection. "Eh. There's truth in your words, Ajax. Fine. It'll do. Boy, how do you like it?"

Turning, I smiled at my master. "Very much, thank you, milord. It fits fine to me." And it did. I'd rather cover as much of my thin legs as I could in battle. Nymph-bred I might be, but that didn't mean that I was quick enough to dodge anything. And furthermore, when surrounded by men, my smooth and thinner-muscled legs got me in trouble. You could pick me out of the lines of our army merely by looking below the leather and tunics and shields, looking for very un-manly legs. Between them, and my need not to shave, I was somewhere between the envy and the scapegoat of the Greek army.

Morpheus smiled over at me, looking up from polishing his master's sword. "Chrysaor, I swear by the gods, you grow more beautiful every day. Soon you'll have men fighting over your honor, and poor Helen will be forgotten."

I elbowed him sharply in the stomach. He gasped his breath out, and I leaned over. "Shut your foolish mouth, Morpheus. Or else the only thing you'll be fighting for is your life," I warned.

The other boys gathered around looked at each other and smirked. "It's true, Chrysaor," Eteocles said, shaking his head. "You're too small to be a soldier,"

"So slender you could be picked up by the wind," put in Iphis with the dark complexion.

"-So the only thing you'd be good for is to be the pretty standard boy. Or a male concubine," Eteocles amended, pointing at me.

I stood up, gritting my teeth. "It's not a wonder Achilles picked you," Iphis said, smiling at me the grin of a shark. Just as pointy, just as friendly. "You know how much he loves his women. Just be warned when you're sent to live with the harem."

My fists clenched at my side, and Morpheus set a hand on my shoulder, cautioning me. "Careful, Chrysaor. I was only joking, but if you strike them, they'll strike you back," he warned quietly. "They're both bigger, and I don't want to have to carry you back to Achilles."

I made a rude gesture to the two other standard boys, and turned. Morpheus trotted after me. Opening my stride, I used the method of distancing through stride that Achilles used so often that I had had to adjust to. Jogging alongside me, Morpheus puffed.

"Chrysaor, you know I was only playing with you," he pleaded. "Don't be so mad." I shot him a look, and he looked down.

"It's bad enough, Morpheus, when you have half the camp wanting to throw you out for Paris and the other half mooning over your face," I spat at him. "The last thing I need is my only friend to be calling me a girl."

"Well, you are pretty enough to be-"

"Shut your mouth! Just shut your mouth, Morpheus!" I yelled, turning to look at him. He cowered, and I turned on my heel again. "I'm not a gi-" I started, and then ran into someone.

"Uhh…" I muttered, rubbing my head where my forehead had banged into someone's breastplate.

"You're not a girl?" someone prompted, and I didn't need to look up. "No, Achilles, I'm not a girl. No, Morpheus, I'm not a girl. NO, THE ENTIRE CAMP, CAN YOU HEAR ME? I'M NOT A GIRL! " I yelled at the top of my lungs, and a hand clamped over my mouth. Achilles swept his hand behind me and pushed me forward, toward the tents. "Wonderful. Now that you've alerted our army to that fact, care to go stand in front of the walls of Troy and tell them?" he asked mildly, ushering me into the main tent. "Since you've had that outburst, I suggest you can polish all my armor. And weapons. And when you're done with that, the horses need to be groomed, and the harnesses can be checked and re-stitched if needed," he told me, starting to unbuckle his armor.

I sighed, raising my eyes to the heavens. "Do you hear this?" I asked Athena and Artemis indignantly. "You expect me to deal with this? I'm only mortal!" I insisted.

Achilles looked over. "I'm sure they know. Now, do I employ you, or do I not? And what do I employ you for?" he asked. Sighing again, I moved over to help unbuckle the rest of the armor and raise it off him.

I stood on the edge of the beach, where sea met land. Crouching on my feet, I called out toward the depths. "Mother? Are you there? I need you."

I waited for a few minutes, watching intently as the bottom of the sea finally began to stir. Silver hair billowed out, and a body cut the sea before me. I sighed in relief and began to talk before the woman was even fully out of the water and standing before me. "Mother, I know that Athena and Artemis told me to come, but I'm seriously starting to wonder about the-" I cut off. "Wait, you're not my mother!" I said, affronted.

The nymph who was not my mother looked at me. "You aren't Achilles." She turned and looked down the beach front. I followed her gaze and saw my master kneeling at the water's edge like I was. In front of him stood another nymph, the same silver hair as this one, but subtle differences marked her as my mother.

My mother and Achilles turned, and a smile spread over his face. "Oh, hello, Synae. How are you, darling?" the nymph beside me asked. Achilles and I both raised a hand to our forehead. My mother started forward toward me. "It was pleasant to meet you, Achilles," she said graciously, and he nodded, beckoning his own mother over. She nodded. "I'm so sorry, boy. You two must have called at the same time. A little mistake, really." I nodded assent, and she stopped my mother as she passed.

"Your son, Synae? I thought you had a daughter…how is she?"

My mother and I both froze, and Achilles looked at my mother in interest. "She, uh, she died," my mother said. "Tragic accident." I sighed in relief, both grateful we had gotten out of that spot, and a little offended the only thing my mother could think up was that her only child, me, had died. Oh well.

"I'm so sorry, Synae!" Thetis gasped. "I didn't hear!"

"Yes, well, news travels…slow."

Thetis finally said her good-byes, and my lovely mother came over to me, sighing deeply as she sunk to the sand. "Well, I'm glad that's over. So, why did you call me? It isn't about Achilles, is it?"

I shook my head, and she looked slightly disappointed. "That's a shame. He's a lovely man, no?"

"Mother! He's my…my master! "

"It's a disappointment that this was all Artemis and Athena could think up to get you here. I bet that your life would be more interesting if you had been sent to him as a concubine."

"Mother! Please, this is why I never call you anymore. You never want to hear why I called."

"Oh, fine. So, why did you call?"

"I need help."