Every soldier from Troy that had dared to accompany Hector in defiance of their king stood huddled together on the deck of the ship that they'd just helped the Ithacans land on the beach of the Myrmidons' territory. No one could question their loyalty to Hector and their dedication in seeing him carry out his mission, but there was a great distinction between assisting their acknowledged leader and sending him off like a lamb to the slaughter. "Sire, I must advise against this," one of them insisted to Hector once again.

"I've come this far," replied Hector, staring out over the edge of the ship with a strange look in his eye – as if he were looking through what was in plain view that was making his men hesitate. "If I chose to give up now I would have to admit to myself that I did so because it was easier to do that than to be strong and claim my son."

"No one here can claim to fully understand all that you've gone through, my prince," the soldier tried to reason as he glanced at the same beach and blanched at the sight that greeted him: Myrmidons as far as the eye could see, well-armed and standing in battle formation. The idea of letting Hector go out there without even one weapon was painful enough, and on top of that…. "However, it would be madness for you to go out there alone and unarmed!"

"I must go without my sword, but I will not be alone; King Odysseus has been kind enough to agree to come with me."

"Besides," Odysseus spoke up, calmly ignoring the unhappy looks on the faces of his own men, "this decision shouldn't come as such a shock to everyone. Have we not made it clear that you didn't journey all this way to provoke a fight that we can't win? We're here so that your prince can tell Paris Alexandros everything, not force him to come back to Troy."

The glint of the sunlight reflecting off of all the swords on the beach made the soldier inwardly flinch, as did hearing the Greek king refer to the young man whom the Trojans still regarded as a prince without his proper title. "But none of us expected to be facing this –"

"You didn't, perhaps," laughed Odysseus. The good-natured sound would have seemed out of place in such a dangerous situation had not the king's hard-learned experience, both first-hand and by witnessing the fates of others, been mingled with it. "It's a common mistake to believe that the Myrmidons are just a bunch of wild brutes and thus underestimate their ability to strategize. Count yourselves lucky then, soldiers of Troy: it's one that most people only live long enough to make once. Achilles may be bold to the point of reckless, but he isn't stupid."

"He knew that a force would follow when he spirited away the youngest prince of Troy," concurred Hector grimly. "It only stands to reason that he wouldn't just leave the beach of his homeland undefended. That being said, it appears that the next move is mine – I can either stay on board or go down there. Since I doubt that Achilles will be willing to bring Paris to see me I have to go to him and I'd like not to give them any more reason to attack. All I ask from all of you is that you obey whatever orders I give you no matter how dire matters look for me. And the first order that I give is for you to stay here until hearing from me again."

There was nothing left to say; nor was there anything that the Trojan soldiers could do but look on with increasing unease as Hector and Odysseus went ashore without them. As they walked down the ramp, both king and prince made a bit of a show in laying aside all of their weapons – including, much to the disconcertion of both of their men, the smaller blades that almost every warrior hid somewhere on their persons. Surely now they would be slaughtered!

There wasn't a soul on that ship that didn't hold his breath as their leaders stepped off of the ramp and onto the sand. The Myrmidons, like scorpions that had finally come to the long-anticipated moment of strike, moved deftly to fully surround them. Neither Trojan nor Ithacan could hope to get to their commanders without having to battle their way through a mass of warriors. Why, they could only barely make out which figures were Hector and Odysseus in the throng. Many prayers were sent to Apollo and Athena from the ship at that moment.

In the middle of all of that Hector stood absolutely still with his arms hanging loosely at his sides. He could feel the air throbbing all around him and for the first time since leaving the shores of Troy he wondered if he was going to make it through that ordeal physically intact. Through rationally he always knew that it was a likely possibility, this wasn't how he'd wanted things to go; to die before he even got the chance to see Paris again. His eyes darted to one openly hostile face to another and knew that he and Odysseus would have to watch their every word and action if they were going to live to see their families again.

Odysseus, in the meantime, was also searching through the crowd of faces; but he was looking for a specific one rather than simply taking in all of their hatred. When he couldn't find Achilles, he settled on the next best chance for negotiating a temporary truce and getting Hector down the final part of his journey. "Greetings, Eudores," he said to Achilles' second-in-command loud enough so that everyone on the beach could hear him. "We've come a long way in order to speak with Achilles."

"I'll bet," snorted Eudores, not at all willing to give them even a hint that the circumstances could be anything but unwelcoming. "Well, you'll get no sympathy here. Judging by your – company – I can tell you that we've just made the same trip; the only difference is that you didn't have some ship full of would-be kidnappers, rapists, and betrayers on your tail."

"There appears to be some confusion about our purpose in coming here," said Odysseus evenly as he impressively maintained his self-control and dignity. "That is why we ask to speak to your lord. Where is Achilles?"

"He's otherwise occupied," Eudores reported in a clipped tone. "But he left me with orders to have the men hold the beach against those who" – he sneered in disgust at Hector – "trespass."

Perhaps it was a foolishly reckless thing to do but Hector could no longer hold his tongue. "I have not journeyed all this way to fight, nor insult anyone, nor force anyone to do anything against their will," he said, a slight tremor in his voice. That couldn't be helped; he was so close to his son that if the anticipation and tension didn't end soon he was going to claw his own skin off! "I'm just here to talk. I would see Prince Paris."

"I'm sure you would," retorted Eudores sarcastically. "I have no doubt that you'd see him, talk to him, grab him, hurt him, and drag him back to that cesspool that you Trojans claim in a civilized city, but I don't think that Paris would like that and I'm more concerned with his wants than yours."

"I admire how well you protect him," Hector blurted out desperately; indeed pleased that Paris had finally found people who would stand up for him while at the same time almost losing his mind because of the frustration of it all. "And I swear that I will do him no harm, if only you let me –"

"Are you a simpleton? That's not my decision," said Eudores, taking a step forward to get almost nose-to-nose with the Trojan prince. "Achilles hasn't given you leave to traipse all over this land and I'm not about to stick my neck out for the likes of you. There's only one way you're going to be leaving this beach: on the ship that brought you here in the first place or else down into the Underworld to let Hades judge you. Make your choice soon before I decide to make it for you."

Easing his way between Myrmidon and Trojan as much as he dared, Odysseus stared unblinkingly into Eudores' face. "Let me talk to Achilles," he requested in a forceful but persuasive tone. "The two of us have business to discuss, most of which have nothing to do with what Hector is here to do. Or have you all forgotten that little matter of abandoning me and my men to King Priam's wrath after you took off with the prince?"

"I'll willingly stay on the beach under your power until Lord Achilles gives any orders otherwise," added Hector before Eudores could retort. "Please, I beg you to let Odysseus speak with your lord."

Eudores narrowed his eyes. "How do I know that you're not planning something?"

"I swear on all of the love that my son has for me that I am not," Hector insisted, leaving it to them to make their own assumptions on just what he was talking about. "Do you require more proof?" He turned to the ship and shouted out. "Soldiers of Troy! I order you now to not set one foot off of the ship – either into water, onto the rank, or in sand – unless orders to do otherwise come from the mouth of Lord Achilles himself! I will brand any that do traitors!"

"Impressive gesture," commented a younger-sounding voice.

Turning back, Hector saw that a young man with an air of shrewdness and confidence had walked up to stand beside Eudores. "It wasn't meant to impress," responded Hector as he looked uncertainly at the newcomer. He had no doubt that the Myrmidons had ways that he would probably consider to be unusual, but he'd never heard of any army that would stand for a young soldier to be so audacious that he'd act as if he had as much authority as the person left in command.

"Ah, Patroclus," smiled Odysseus, his overfriendliness emphasizing rather than masking the lingering annoyance he had for the Myrmidon. "This is Achilles' cousin," he added to Hector before cocking an eyebrow at the young man. "So you managed to convince Achilles not to do anything rash at the moment, huh? By Athena, I found out the next morning in a most unpleasant way just how literal you were being."

"I thought that you of all people would know not to trust that people always mean what you want them to mean," Patroclus told him, and Hector could plainly see a brashness in him that he could easily equate with that of the reputation of his cousin. "Take your friend here; I assumed that he's trying to astound us with his humbleness and yet he says that it's not true."

"It isn't," Hector broke in. "It's supposed to give all of you some assurance of my total cooperation. Do you wish for me to get down on my knees when I beg? Because I will do it as long as I have the hope of seeing Paris at the end."

Eudores still looked at him cynically but something stirring within Patroclus caused him to draw his lip into a tight line. "I can't take you to see him," he said with a cautious edge in his voice. "But if Odysseus is so intent on speaking on your behalf I'll escort him to Achilles." He eyed the king with some acceptance. "You may be an old fox, Odysseus, but you're still his friend."

"Hold one moment." Eudores wasn't happy. While he was used to the younger man usurping his authority among the ranks of the Myrmidons in non-battle situations, having him do so in front of those outsiders and on such an important issue really irked him. "Keep an eye on our guests, men; Patroclus and I need to have a word."

The rest of the Myrmidons obliged, closing off the circle around Hector and Odysseus as Eudores and Patroclus walked away so that they could have some measure of privacy. "What do you think you're doing?" hissed Eudores in a furious whisper.

"I'm trying to not spill the blood of one of Achilles' most trusted friends on this beach today," shot back Patroclus.

"Oh, come off it," Eudores scoffed. "It's not to Odysseus that you've been talking to. I can't believe that you're actually trying to help that Prince Hector see Paris; why would you do that?"

Patroclus seemed to deflate a little as the memory came back to him. "I made a promise to Paris," he admitted. Eudores didn't make any sort of comment, so he continued: "It was on the ship that first morning, after Achilles went off to speak to you. Paris was so exhausted; and he was devastated at the thought of never seeing his brother again that I promised that I'd see to it that he would if I had any say in the matter. It probably wasn't the most intelligent vow that I've ever made, but I did it under my own free will and now I have to honor it. Don't make me break my word, Eudores. Please?"

"You've never said 'please' to me outside of the bedroom before," murmured Eudores, lightly caressing the young man's face before pulling his hand back quickly as if it had been burned. "No, I can't do this right now! Achilles told me not to let my foreplay with you interfere with my ability to command."

A flying fist connected with Eudores' arm before he could react against it. "Don't go acting like I'm trying to seduce you," snapped Patroclus, glaring daggers while the older man rubbed his throbbing arm with an affronted expression on his face. "Do you really think that I'd stoop to using sex to get my way? I'd like to think that I have a little more to me than that, and if you think differently I can assure you that this conversation is not be leading to anything. You just be glad that you are in command or else you'd be unconscious."

"I'm –"

"Foreplay?" Patroclus cut him off, still ranting. "You jackass; why can't you see it as helping your lover – friend – whatever we are – keep his promise? Or am I just a body you happen to enjoy; someone who owes you sex –"

"No! By the gods, no," groaned Eudores as he shut his eyes in an attempt to escape the diatribe. When had things gotten so complicated between them that he actually cared if his young lover was less than happy with him? Patroclus was still glowering at him when he opened his eyes. "This really means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

"I'm glad you noticed," Patroclus spat back, petulant and sarcastic. "Quick; if you can manage to say my name correctly I'll have sex with you right here, right now in front of everybody."

"I didn't mean to imply that you would use sex to get your own way," Eudores told him through gritted teeth. Yes; definitely more complicated than he'd ever imagined them capable of becoming. He let out a sigh. "Fine then; if he's willing to entrust Prince Hector's keeping to us I won't oppose you taking Odysseus to see Achilles."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

This was farther than perhaps they could have hoped to get and Odysseus was entirely grateful. Of course he hated leaving Hector alone with the oftentimes ill-tempered Myrmidons, but they had to take whatever opportunities became available to them. Besides, he trusted that Eudores was taken enough with Achilles' cousin to think twice before acting in any way that the young Myrmidon might not appreciate. Patroclus' intervention on their behalf was almost enough for Odysseus to forgive the sly little fox that was walking slightly in front of him.

They marched in silence until they reached the yard outside of Achilles' home. "Wait here," instructed Patroclus. "It would probably be best if he came out to see you instead of you invading his and Paris' space." He took a few steps forward toward the door before hesitating and turning around to look the king in the eye. "Why are you traveling with that Trojan? And why are you risking losing my cousin's friendship and gaining his wrath by speaking on his behalf?"

Odysseus almost said that he could ask the same of him, but thought better of it. "Partly because Achilles and Paris Alexandros don't know the entire story," he answered instead, steadfastly refusing to respond to Patroclus' silent question about the strange name he'd just given for Achilles' lover. "Hector has some things that both of them, especially Paris, need to hear. But mostly because I'd rather die a thousand deaths on Achilles' sword during his words moods than endure one day of what Hector's gone through for more than half his life."

Confused by this declaration and deeply unsettled by the gravity of Odysseus' demeanor, Patroclus rushed inside without pressing him further and reemerged a few minutes later with Achilles. "Here he is, cousin."

"So I see," replied Achilles. "Go back to the beach, Patroclus; make sure that our uninvited guest understands all of our rules."

Odysseus offered the warrior a slight smile as Patroclus sprinted off but Achilles made no move away from the door. "Paris is sleeping," he said curtly. "I won't let anyone disturb him."

Ithaca's king nodded, more in acknowledgement of the statement than in agreement. "I came to ask you to give Hector of Troy leave to see Paris."

"No."

Any other answer would have shocked him into a coma; Odysseus refused to be deterred so easily. "Why not?"

"If you have to ask me that then you're not as smart as you used to be," Achilles told him incredulously. "Hector would take him back to Troy, to a father who would use him as a prostitute for the city's nobles and foreign leaders. He knew about Priam's plans for a long time."

"No he didn't," asserted Odysseus with so much force that Achilles was taken aback. "You weren't there when I told him what his father said to me. If you were, you would know just how wrong those words are."

Achilles shook his head stubbornly. "Even if that were true," he said, "it still wouldn't change the fact that he wants to take the person I love away. I won't let him come."

"But you promised Paris that Hector could visit if he behaved himself," Odysseus argued.

"I did not," insisted Achilles.

That one blatant lie caused Odysseus to reach the end of his patience. "You made that promise to Paris right before you killed those two guards," he told him fiercely.

For one of the few times in his life, Achilles was absolutely stunned. "How could you – how did you know that?"

"Julian heard everything!" cried Odysseus as all of the emotions that prudence required he hold back came pouring out. "By Athena, you're just standing there oblivious of what you left behind in Troy! There's a ten-year-old servant boy who witnessed your little encounter with his master from start to finish and ended up imprisoned for it, all because he accidentally dropped the toy that Paris had just told him not to lose. There's a young prostitute who was abused at the hands of the aforementioned guards and later whipped by Lord Isidore for helping you and you don't even know who he is and what he did. There are soldiers and guards who would have died to protect Paris, and the Lady Andromache who loves him as well. And, until a few weeks ago, there were also me and my men. You left us there, Achilles, to face whatever punishment that the king could dream up."

"Yes, but –"

"Hector wants to see Paris in order to make sure that he's all right," Odysseus cut him off. "He won't try to take him by force; you can even stand right outside the door the entire time to make sure that he doesn't try anything." He could see Achilles' stubbornness wavering and went in for the kill. "If you can't justify doing this as a favor to me, just think of it as actually keeping your word to the person that you so readily declare to love."

Achilles' face scrunched in frustration as his resolve crumbled. "Very well," he spat out. "But I'm not going to move from my spot while he's here, unless it's to kill him. Let's get this over with."

"Thank you." With those words, Odysseus rushed off.

Achilles was already regretting his decision, but there was nothing that his honor would let him do about it; all that he could do was wake his lover. Heaving a great sigh, he went back inside and walked to the bedroom. Paris was there, stretched out on their bed and sleeping contentedly. He knelt down beside him, stroking his cheek, and the boy's eyelids fluttered open.

"Good morning," Paris murmured, smiling up at his waker.

"Good morning indeed," Achilles smiled back, leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the lips.

Paris frowned. "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think that something's wrong?"

"That's not the good morning kiss that I'm used to," replied Paris seductively, playfulness dancing all over his face. "Your kisses usually keep us in bed for another hour or so." When Achilles didn't respond to his question or his seduction, Paris' tone changed to one of concern. "What's wrong?" he repeated.

"Nothing. Probably," Achilles amended. "Your brother arrived this morning. He wants to see you."

Paris' face brightened. "Hector's here?" he asked eagerly before his smile faltered. "Is he going to take me back to Troy?"

The very suggestion made Achilles tense in anticipation of a fight. "Not while I still breathe," he promised.

"I would like to see him – very much so," Paris declared. He sat up and blushed. "Although I should probably have some clothes on when I do."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

There was a knock on the door just as Paris dressing. Achilles followed after as his young lover rushed out of the bedroom and vainly willed him to change his mind and send Hector away. When that proved futile, the warrior opened the door and found Odysseus standing there with Hector at his side. The Trojan prince ignored him entirely, hurrying wordlessly past him and embracing Paris, clutching him as if he feared that he would disappear all over again if he didn't hold on tightly. Odysseus threw Achilles a look that the Myrmidon couldn't read before leading him outside and giving Hector and Paris the privacy that they would need.

Paris only vaguely noticed his lover's exit, so joyful he was at finally being able to see Hector again. He returned the hug wholeheartedly. "I missed you so much," he said. The older man didn't respond, but Paris could feel tremors running throughout his body.

Hector didn't move away when he at last broke the hug; instead he held Paris' face with both hands. It was then that Paris saw that his face was red and his cheeks were wet with tears. The sight made the boy recall the first and only other time he'd seen him cry: when Paris was six he'd started asking questions about his mother during one of their nighttime visits. It had frightened him to see Hector fall apart like that, and now taking in his painfully relieved expression Paris felt something else: guilt.

"I'm sorry," he said lamely, knowing how trite it sounded. "I didn't mean to make you upset, but I couldn't stay there. Father –"

Hector shut his eyes and kissed Paris' brow. "I know."

The boy freed his face from Hector's grasp and moved a few paces back, feeling ashamed that his brother was finally aware of what Priam had in store for him. "He wanted to whore me," he whispered brokenly. It almost sounded like a confession and Hector's heart twisted to hear it. "My own father thinks that I'm nothing but a whore."

"No, that's not true," said Hector quietly. "You don't understand –"

That wasn't the right way to begin; Hector regretted his choice of words as soon as they'd left his mouth. He cringed as Paris looked up sharply. "Pray tell me," Paris said sarcastically with a fire and a strength that Hector had never seen in him before. It made him…proud. "How am I wrong about this situation?"

"Paris, please –"

"No," he interrupted abruptly. "You just told me that I'm wrong about the most devastating experience of my life. Now I want you to explain to me how that is; what could possibly make me understand all of this?"

"He's not your father, Paris," Hector blurted out before he lost his nerve. "Priam's not your father. I am."

To be continued…