A/N: ate my asterisks last time, so the sub-chapters couldn't be divided. I hope it wasn't too confusing. I think it's fixed now (you can never tell with so enjoy. If there are still strange encodings, please tell me.

Chapter Two

Patroclus was pleased: Briseïs was finally gone. Given to Agamemnon was that annoying slave-girl; who the hell did she think she was, claiming Achilles' heart like that!

But Patroclus felt bad to see Achilles so upset, so angry over the loss of that bitch annoyance. The golden-haired son of Peleus had been sulking in his tent all day, despite the fact Agamemnon said he'd give Achilles the next captive of war to him. But no one could compare to Briseïs , even Patroclus knew that.

No wonder poor Achilles so was down. But aren't I beautiful enough for him? Patroclus thought angrily.

The young man suddenly had a plan: Peleus told him when he was little that nothing gets rid of a bad mood like sweet desserts. Patroclus shuffled into Achilles' hut with a bowl of fruit and honey and put it in front of his lover.

"Don't wanna eat..." godlike Achilles mumbled sulkily, staring into complete and utter nothingness.

"But you haven't eaten anything all day!" Patroclus exclaimed. "Go on, you love these fruits, I know you do."

Achilles wanted to shout at his childhood friend but he passive-aggressively grabbed a slice of apple and ate it. It was delicious, and the sticky honey did lighten his mood. He ate another, then another.

"Good, huh?" Patroclus grinned and held up another slice.

Achilles ate it off Patroclus' hand, causing Menoitios' son to blush crimson. "Mm-hmm..." the Myrmidon leader said non-coherently, sucking the honey off his lover's fingertips. Blue eyes stared straight at brown, and Achilles muttered: "Patroclus, you don't actually look bad as a boy."

"R-really?" Patroclus was delighted: he thought so himself but Odysseus had teased him endlessly because of his sudden youth. Stupid Ithacan with his stupid wide vocabulary.

"Oh yes..." Achilles said, nodding. "Enchanting, attractive," he ran his lips over the younger man's neck, leaving a sticky trail of honey. "A young creature the gods seduces, like in the legends," a hot, wet tongue licked up the honey. "Just like Briseïs..."

Patroclus flinched at the name and growled inwardly, but on the outside he just smiled with content. Damn that Briseïs, ruining his good mood. However, it seemed to make Achilles happy, and Patroclus supposed that in the end, happiness was the best for all.

The darker blonde felt his lover's hands around his waist, pulling him closer for a kiss. Patroclus ran his fingers through Achilles' golden hair as he bit down playfully on the other man's bottom lip. Pulling apart for air, both of them found each other grinning.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing..."

"Go on..." kiss. "Tell me."

"Why are you smiling, Achilles?"

"Because I can't believe I was so obsessed with Briseïs to forget such a gorgeous creature like you. Hmmm..." kiss-kiss. "All these days, you were right under my nose you beautiful dryad, and I never realised. How stupid I was..."

Patroclus smiled bitterly; if he was a dryad then Achilles was his life tree. It wouldn't matter if an arrow hit him in the heart right now and killed him -- he heard Achilles say such lovely words to him, about him, and he could die happy.

"Achilles, I... I lo--"

Someone behind them cleared his throat.

The couple turned, blushing: Achilles growled angrily and Patroclus' face flushed with embarrassment. Standing outside the door was a random soldier with a perverted face, like many soldiers back then (and nowadays too, now that I think on it).

"I have a present for you," said the soldier, grinning and showing missing front teeth. He had something in his arms and threw it onto the rugs. "I think you'll like it."

Antimony snared at the lewd-looking man and spat in his face.

"Feisty..." Patroclus muttered dryly; he was not a fan of women with too strong a will -- actually, women on the whole. He only tolerated Deidamia because she was such a fluff-brained creature, no sharper as a plank of rotting wood. Still, she gave birth to Neoptolemus, who is the personification of childhood (and annoyance, and curiosity. Especially to what his father does in the bedroom with Patroclus).

But Achilles was ogling at the silver-haired priestess with a new-found lust. He excused the guards with a wave of his hands, then picked up a bowl of warm water that Patroclus swore to have just randomly appeared.

"Are you hurt?" Peleus' son whispered, taking a soft cloth and wiped Antimony's bloodstained cheek.

She flinched and pulled away, whimpering like a small scared animal. "Don't touch me." She whispered back, her voice melodious like a minor chord.

Achilles smiled kindly, a look that Patroclus frowned at: what the hell! The younger-looking man tugged on his lover's cloak. "Achilles, I need to speak with you outside."

"Not now, Patroclus. Can't you see I'm busy?"

"BUSY! Bullshit. Look, why are you acting this way in front of this girl?"

"Stop mothering me," Achilles snapped. His sea-blue eyes never left Antimony's sun-golden orbs. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen... I will love you for the rest of my life. I will never ever hurt you..."

Antimony blushed, her apple-smooth cheeks tinted the palest of pinks. Patroclus didn't know whether to burst into tears or to slit both their necks. Choking on some obscure emotion, he staggered out of the hut. There were no stars in the sky; thick and heavy clouds hung overhead threatening to rain. Out of earshot, Patroclus broke down completely. The godlike son of Menoitios was reduced to a small curled-up ball and crying like a girl all because of a captive of war -- how humiliating.

Bloody Achilles! ... I hate this, I hate her; I hope she gets sent to Tartarus and Hades tortures her for all eternity...stupid, no-good women... nothing but troubles... why am I even acting like this! I'm too old to be a snivelling little adolescent! ... stupid no-good rotten day...

... I bet it's going to get worse too...

---

"Now, repeat after me," Cassandra took a deep breath. "And don't get distracted this time! Alright: 'My name is Aeneas, son of Anchises, son of Aphrodite who is goddess of love.' "

"My name is Aeneas, son of Anchises, son of Aphrodite who is goddess of love." Aeneas repeated obediently, nodding his head.

" 'I am a Trojan soldier, a magnificent fighter...' "

"I am a Trojan soldier, a magnificent fighter..."

" 'I have a wife and a son, who I love very much...' "

"But I don't! I'm still a virgin!"

"AENEAS!"

The boy clasped his hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry Cassandra... he muttered guiltily. "But I can't get it into my head."

Cassandra sighed and scratched her head. "Never mind, I suppose we always have Hector to fight for the Trojans..."

"And Antimony!"

Apollo's priestess stared. "What?"

"Antimony!" Aeneas said excitedly. "She's really good with the sword, she can fight as good as any man, if not better! I'm sure she can beat Achilles if she wanted to!"

Cassandra stared at Aeneas seriously and she realised the boy was not joking or even exaggerating the truth.

"Of course," the former-hero continued without hesitation. "I feel that this is utterly wrong. Women should be at home and look after children, or maybe. And making new shirts!"

Just then, Cassandra realised how many holes there was on Aeneas' tunic. Surely the war-hero would have some money to buy decent clothes? But this Aeneas was a farm-boy with a confused identity.

The Trojan princess sighed. "Come, I'll take you to the palace and I'll give you some of Paris' old clothes."

Aeneas' bright blue eyes lighted up with gratitude of such honour: normal people were not allowed in palaces, despite what some teenage girls say and write. However, no matter how many times Cassandra told him, Aeneas could not remember that he used to be a great hero for Ilium. The pair made their way through the crowded market and into the royal front gardens.

"CASSANDRA!"

The woman who holds the name looked up at see her two closest brothers running down the marble steps.

"ANTIMONY HAS BEEN TAKEN AWAY!"

"Ah." Was the reply. Cassandra wasn't at all surprised: she foresaw it. Besides, it means the silver-haired "daughter of Artemis" could now go and annoy the Achaeans for a change.

"We must rescue her immediately!" Hector cried, sword drawn and ready for action. Paris nodded vigorously. "I love her and cannot bear the thought of her being in the hands of those evil Greeks."

"The who's?" Aeneas whispered as he cowered behind Cassandra. "And isn't His Majesty Hector married?"

Suddenly, a random bugler call was sounded. Paris gave a cry. "Ah! It's time for my treaty with Menelaus!"

Cassandra frowned: treaty with Menelaus? She wasn't informed on that! But then again, she wasn't informed anything. The priestess and Aeneas ran to out of the city with the princes, and outside, there stood the entire Achaean army.

Menelaus grinned for the first time in days (he was still bitter about putting on 5 stones) and wiped dust from his armour. "What would it be then, Paris?" he asked.

Paris gulped and gripped his sword. "Me and you. We fight for Helen."

Well, thought the nice people who have read the Iliad. At least that's something the film got right...

To Be Continued...

A/N: thank you to the people who have read and reviewed. Not a very interesting chapter this time, but I hope you liked it anyway. The film was evil to make Patroclus not only younger than Achilles but also his COUSIN. And where the hell was Antilochus! He will make a brief cameo in the next chapter.