The next morning Paris berated himself with every step he took. He'd held all of those feelings in for so long; why had it all spilled out to a Greek and a reputed brute of all people? 'He says a few nice things to me and I'm practically crying on his shoulder!' he thought, angry with Achilles for tricking him into opening up and angry with himself for doing so. 'He must have been thoroughly amused. Probably laughed about it all night with those other visiting Greeks.'

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice that he was no longer alone in the hallway. "Good morning, Paris," greeted his sister-in-law, Hector's wife Andromache.

He looked up and was startled to see her, with baby Astyanax in her arms, alone in the company of King Odysseus of Ithaca. "Good morning, Andromache," he replied, letting his gaze drift to the Greek. "I trust all is well with you and my nephew this day."

"Very well, thank you," she smiled, trying, as she always on the rare occasions when they talked, to get him to drop his guarded façade. "We were just having a most pleasant conversation with King Odysseus here."

"Really?" Paris raised his eyebrows at the king. "Is it customary, then, for the men of your country to meet with a woman all alone like this?"

"No," answered Odysseus, looking abashed. "I just ran into Andromache and wanted to talk to her about the baby. My own son, Telemachus, is only a little bit older and I must confess I miss him terribly."

"I wouldn't say that too loudly if you want any kind of alliance with Troy," Paris told him in a wry tone. "My father –"

"- is a fool," interjected Andromache lightly, but with a hard edge in her voice. "Honestly, I think a statue is more capable of warmth and affection than that man!"

"Andromache!" cried a shocked Paris. "Perhaps you shouldn't say such candid things, especially in front of one of Father's guests."

Odysseus, not wanting to scandalize the prince even more, tried vainly to suppress his chuckle. "I'm sure she didn't mean any disrespect," he assured jovially. "In fact, my wife calls her king a fool all the time."

He and Andromache laughed at the horrified expression on Paris' face. "Oh, relax brother," she scolded playfully, hefting Astyanax into his arms. "Here, hold your nephew."

Awkwardly cradling the baby in his arms, the prince bit his lower lip and debated with himself if he should ask the question foremost on his mind. "King Odysseus," he finally said. "Did you speak to the Lord Achilles last night?" 'Did you laugh until dawn about the blubbering Trojan prince?' he added silently, bitterly guessing the answer was yes.

"No, not since before the banquet last night," replied the Grecian king.

"Really?" Paris threw him a disbelieving look. "He didn't tell you about our conversation last night?"

Odysseus groaned inwardly. He wasn't a stupid man; he knew his impetuous friend was growing increasingly fascinated with the young prince. "Which conversation?" he asked as he tried to keep his voice even and calm, deciding that if Achilles had done anything improper and ruined any chance of peace he'd kill him.

"The one in which he insisted on having with my son alone," interrupted Priam, sounding properly indignant as he joined the group. "He even threatened to leave, lead his men back to Greece without so much as another word between us, if he wasn't allowed to speak with him unsupervised! It was most insulting."

Odysseus cringed, but tried his best to disguise it as an apologetic smile. "My deepest apologies to you both," he said profusely. "I know that Achilles can be, well, intense at times, but he usually means no harm by it."

"It would be best if he weren't so forward in the future," Priam stressed meaningfully, resting his hand on the back of Paris' neck.

"Of course," agreed Odysseus smoothly, desperately searching in his mind for another topic. Any other topic. His eyes fell on the baby in Paris' arms. "You really have a handsome son, my lady."

"Thank you," replied Andromache, playing along by smiling demurely.

"Lord Achilles didn't say anything to you about last night?" Paris persisted, noting the topic change but not caring that Odysseus didn't want to talk about it anymore.

The well-acted pleasant smile froze on the Grecian king's face. "I assure you that he didn't talk to me or anyone else about it," he said, the barest hint of desperation sneaking into his voice. "My prince, I didn't realize how much you and Astyanax resemble each other. Why, if I didn't know any better I'd swear you two were brothers."

Paris refused to drop the subject. "No mention at all?"

The hand on the back of the boy's neck tightened ever so slightly. "If you will excuse us," said Priam tensely. "I must speak with my son in private. I'm sure you need to return to you men, King Odysseus."

"Yes, my lord," nodded Odysseus, though he had no intention of going back to his troops. No, he was going to track down Achilles for a rather loud discussion about threatening the chances for alliances and peace. "Your highness, Prince Paris; it was a pleasure to meet you, my lady Andromache."

Paris didn't hear Andromache's response; he'd barely had time to give Astyanax back before he dragged away. With one hand on the back of his neck and the other on an arm, Priam was both pushing and pulling him through the hallways of the palace at a rather brisk pace. When they reached one of the back rooms, the king roughly thrust him through the doorway before entering himself and slamming the door behind them.

"What was that all about?" snarled Priam, grabbing Paris' arms so tightly that that prince was sure there would be bruises. He shook him violently. "Answer me!"

"Nothing, Father!" insisted Paris, absolutely frightened. "I just wanted to know if that brute was bragging about getting the opportunity to talk to me alone, that's all. I swear by Apollo, that's all!"

Priam let go of him suddenly and smacked him across the face. Paris lost his balance and fell back on the floor. "Do not speak the name of Apollo from that filthy mouth!" raged the king. "What would that Greek have to brag about, I wonder? Did you spread your legs for him?"

"No!" cried Paris, using all of his will to try to hold back the tears that were stinging his eyes. Curse Achilles! Had he permanently broken the dam that held back his emotions?

"You really are nothing but a little whore, aren't you?" sneered Priam. Paris' only response was a choked sob. "Probably were pulling of both of your clothes the moment you left the banquet hall, weren't you? I bet you can't wait until the day comes that you can take your proper place among the palace prostitutes."

"No!" screamed Paris, his body wracked with sobs as the tears fell freely. "That's not true. Please Father..."

"Oh, it's not true, is it?" mocked the king. "So, what then? Did he tell you he loves you? Is that how he got you to spread out under him? Poor, stupid Paris, actually believing someone could love a whore like you?"

"I – I didn't d,d,do any, anything," choked out the prince. "I'll do, do anything you w-want to p-p-prove it. Please, please..."

"My Paris," sighed Priam in a soft, gentle voice as the anger seemed to drain out of him. He reached out to lovingly stroke the boy's cheek; Paris knew better than to flinch or pull away. "I know it must be hard for you to be both a born strumpet and a prince of Troy. Do not worry, my son; you'll be providing the nobles and visiting allies with much pleasure soon enough. In the meantime, however, if you each like such an eager slut in front of Odysseus or anyone else, I'll toss you to the Greeks and tell them they can do whatever they want with you." He leaned in close to whisper in Paris' ear, "I'll give them gold for being especially rough. Am I making myself clear?"

A petrified Paris managed to choke out, "Yes Father."

"Good," smiled the king, planting a soft kiss on Paris' brow. "Less than two years, my son. In less than two years Lord Isidore will initiate you into the world of the palace prostitutes. And I'll be there to make sure he teaches you to like the pain. You may go now."

Paris tore out of the room as fast as he could, taking heed of no one that he passed. Priam followed after slowly, deep in thought.

"My king?" broke in a familiar voice, bringing him back from his musings.

"Lord Isidore," greeted Priam warmly. "May I have a moment of your time, my friend?"

"Of course," replied the lecherous lord. He nodded to the young prostitute at his side. "I was just going to give this one a little reminder about what he's been taught."

"This will only take a moment," promised the king. "When the Greeks leave, you have my permission – nay, my command – to visit my Paris one night in his quarters."

"My king!" exclaimed the lord eagerly, licking his lips. "May I inquire as to why you're giving me this most pleasurable command?"

"Paris just needs a little reminder about who his father is," replied Priam blithely. "I just need to show him who's truly in control."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Paris ran out of the palace, out of the city, and all the way to the seashore before he stopped. Dropping to his knees in the wet sand, he let out an anguished, frustrated roar as hot tears continued to slide down his cheeks. "Please Zeus, strike me dead with a bolt of lightening!" he screamed. "I beg you, mighty Poseidon, to drown me in your waters! Somebody, anybody, put me out of my misery!" He couldn't breathe, nearly choking on his sobs. "Please, please, somebody help me," he half-whispered sorrowfully, toppling over and falling face-first to the ground.

Strong hands appeared on his shoulders, pulling him back into a kneeling position. "Oh, Paris," said Achilles as he gently supported him. "What have they done to you?"

"Lord Achilles," the boy murmured wretchedly. "Have you come to put me out of my misery?"

Achilles slid one hand under Paris' knees and scooped him up, cradling him to his chest. "I have," he vowed as he carried him down the beach. "I swear this will be the last time that you beg the gods or anyone else for death. Anyone who causes you pain will answer to me from this point on."

To be continued...

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!