The kiss was a lot like the boy who initiated it: chaste, sweet, a bit timid, but revealing a fire hidden deep within that promised that this could one day lead to something more. 'But not today,' Achilles thought with only a little regret. Paris was still too afraid for anything more passionate at the moment. No matter how badly the warrior wanted to take it further, he knew that whatever was to come to pass between them in the future would be worth the wait.
Instead Achilles let Paris control the kiss, happy and content with what it meant. The prince felt safe enough with him to cross that line. He was attracted enough to kiss him. Most importantly, his heart was open to the possibility of loving him. Achilles almost had to laugh at himself, for he was being as sweet and gentle as all of those blubbering idiots in love that he used to scorn. Now he understood that only a fool would allow the harsh judgments of others keep him from indulging in this feeling.
All too soon for the Greek, Paris drew back. He stared at the mouth that he'd just kissed as if amazed by his own boldness. "I've never," he stammered nervously, bringing his fingers to his lips. "Was that okay?"
"I don't think I've ever been kissed with such sincerity before," Achilles reassured with a smile. Suddenly, he registered what the boy almost said and wrinkled his brow. "You just said 'I never.' Have you never kissed anyone before?"
"I used to kiss Hector when I was a little boy," replied Paris, a tad defensive. "Whenever he came to visit me, I'd jump into his arms and give him a kiss on the cheek."
"I meant in a romantic way."
Paris blushed both at the embarrassment of his misinterpretation and at something darker that the question inadvertently brought to the surface. "No, I never kissed anyone like that," he hedged, looking away in shame.
Achilles caught his chin and turned his head back. "There is nothing that you have to be ashamed of around me," he told him firmly, looking directly into his eyes. "Now tell me; has anyone kissed you in a less-than-chaste manner?"
"Not on the mouth," murmured Paris, closing his eyes as the memories flashed in his mind. "But when he touched me –" His eyes snapped open. What had he just revealed?!
Achilles' nostrils flared as his expression hardened and anger pierced out of his eyes. "Who touched you?" he demanded.
"King Agamemnon," the prince burst out, frightened that he'd incited the Greek's infamous temper. "He visited here when I was thirteen. One night, after I left a banquet, he cornered me in a corridor. He – he kissed and licked and even bit my neck, all the while touching me, touching me where – where he shouldn't. Hector found us and made him stop," he added hastily.
Achilles considered this for a moment. "I'm sorry he's dead then," he finally spoke.
Confusion etched Paris' face. "What?"
"If he were still alive, I'd kill him in a way he so richly deserved," declared Achilles fiercely. "After breaking every bone in his hands one by one, of course. That will be the fate of anyone who touches you without your consent, I promise you."
Was he destined to be surprised by this man for the rest of his life? Paris was amazed to realize just how much he liked that thought – and the idea of spending a lifetime with Achilles. "I don't want you to do all that," he said gravely.
"Why shouldn't I?"
"Because afterwards you would be locked away or worse!" exclaimed Paris. He took a deep breath and allowed a playful smile to spread across his face. "And then I wouldn't be able to kiss you again."
Achilles shut his eyes and forced his breathing to become even, all the while clutching the prince close to him. "You've ruined me," he sighed contently. "Before, I was just a warrior who dreamed of fighting strategies, came alive only during battles, and wanted nothing more than glory and a name that would live forever. I don't need that anymore; I wouldn't care if no one else knew my name as long as I could hear you whisper it every day. Do you know what's in my dreams now, Paris? The sound of waves as I lay on the sand with you in my arms."
"Far, far away from Troy," added Paris wistfully.
Achilles raised the boy's hand to his lips. "All you have to do is ask," he reminded him hopefully.
"I know," Paris told him gently. "But I can't. At least not right now." He planted another chaste kiss on the Greek's lips and pulled away, frowning. "How –"he started and then flushed. Telling himself firmly that he didn't have to be embarrassed by this around Achilles, he started again. "I've seen people who, well, move their mouths around when they kiss. How do they do that?"
Achilles smiled at his naiveté. "They open their mouths," he explained with amused patience. "Would you like me to show you what they do?"
"Oh, yes," nodded Paris, nervous but enthused. "But isn't it uncomfortable to have to hold your tongue back for so long?"
"Paris," stated Achilles before he closed the inches between their lips, "don't hold back your tongue."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOParis looked both ways before he motioned to Achilles that all was clear and it was safe to enter the dark corridor that led from the garden to the inside palace. He was red-faced and giddy, knowing only that the feelings in his heart were dangerously close to love and an ache that he never thought he'd experience was starting to stir whenever he thought of the wonderful things that Achilles did with his tongue. All he was focused on at the moment was getting another breathtaking kiss before he went to bed. Achilles, for his part, was rapt with the boy before him and how the spark within him finally seemed to be kindled. Neither had ever felt anything like that before.
They were too enthralled with each other to notice the old man in the shadows, the one who'd been spying on their every move and word in the garden.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Odysseus was waiting for him in his sleeping quarters when he returned. "Where. Have. You. Been?" the king asked in a hard tone, enunciating each word as if it was all he could do to keep from flying into a fury.
"In. The. Garden," imitated Achilles, supremely irritated by his friend's presumption. This was getting very old!
"And what were you doing there?" pressed Odysseus.
"I was learning," he replied flatly. "I've fallen in love with plants. The only thing left for me to do is to give up the warrior's life and become a groundskeeper. Now get out."
Odysseus held his ground. "I begged you to stay away from the prince," he snapped. "I've reasoned with you, told you how badly this is going to turn out. Don't make me order you, Achilles!"
"I don't take orders from you," Achilles growled back, his voice dangerously low. "You are not my king! Neither you or anyone else can command me."
"This isn't about your pride!" Odysseus blew up. "Can you move beyond the myth of Achilles the uncontrollable warrior for one moment? This has nothing to do with power, submission, and who has the authority to command who. This is about common sense and simple decency. Do you think that Priam differentiates between my people and the Myrmidons? No; all he sees are Greeks. It stands to reason, then, that if he should discover you doing gods-know-what with his youngest child, my people and I will be dragged into it as well."
"Then I suggest that you stop shouting before someone overhears," was Achilles petulant response.
"I'm not asking for anything unreasonable," hissed the Grecian king through gritted teeth. "Just for you not to get involved with someone whose future does NOT include a lifetime on a Greek shore. I don't want you to risk everything I've worked so hard for on a fling that's going to end sooner rather than later."
"Futures change."
Odysseus' heart dropped. "What do you mean by that?"
"Paris' future changed the moment I fell in love with him," declared Achilles. "And now it does in fact include a lifetime on a Greek shore. He isn't staying here, left to the non-existent mercy of King Priam. When the Myrmidons set sail, Paris will be standing at my side on the ship."
"That can't happen." Odysseus was nearing a state of blind panic. "It's not your place to decide these things. The king may act, well, a little odd when it comes to the prince, but I'm sure he has his best interests at heart."
"Are you so blinded by the promise of peace," Achilles spat out in disgust, "that you can't see what's before your very eyes. Priam has done everything in his power to make Paris feel like he's nothing. I can't stand the thought of abandoning someone I love to a lifetime of belittlement. Do you hear me, Odysseus? I love Paris and I won't leave him with that cold bastard."
"You're going to start a war," said Odysseus softly, almost to himself. "The Trojans won't just tolerate you taking flight with the prince. They'll try to retrieve him and war will break out."
He snapped his head up and looked Achilles dead in the eye. "I won't fight on your side," he warned. "I'll try to keep Ithaca out of it if I can; but if that's not possible, I'll fight side-by-side with Prince Hector and the army of Troy. I refuse to pit my kingdom against what is now the most powerful city in the world so you can play house with Prince Paris."
"You must do what you think is right," replied Achilles simply, turning his back on the king.
"Achilles..."
"You do what you think is right," reiterated Achilles stubbornly. Odysseus sighed and walked out. "And I'll do what I think is right."
To be continued...
A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed!
A question was poised to me a while ago, that I would have answered last week if I hadn't been so frazzled, about the possibility of revising Family Secrets. That was the first chapter fanfic I ever wrote so I'm rather attached to it. At the same time, it was definitely more rushed and less detailed than this story and I have entertained the idea of revising it. For now all I can say is that it won't be happening at this very moment, and if I do end up revising it I promise I won't take down the original story.