The Beautiful Secret of Troy

The morning brought the start of another clammy, uncomfortable day. The sun was burning hot and the air was thick and moist. Alena woke up in a sweat and out of breath. She had seen the faces of those she loved. She had seen the dead faces of those she held closest. She had stood in a sandy plain full of her kinsmen, all dead and all she could do was scream. The screaming had lasted long as she took in the dreadful sight and when she turned to the gates of Troy, Patroclus was standing there holding the heads of her brothers and smiling. Then in a sinister whisper he said,

"This is your future."

She was only glad that she had woken up and the vision had gone. She breathed a ragged breath and put her face into her hands. When she looked up again she drew in a quick gasp when she seen Patroclus. His face was so different from her dream and she took comfort from that. She threw off the sheet that was covering her and groaned when she felt no cooler than before. Patroclus snapped out of his dreaming and glanced at her but he did not smile like he usually done. She frowned at him and he spoke.

"The Greek army will attack the Trojans today."

She closed her eyes and stood up, adjusting her dress, then she walked out into the sun, leaving Patroclus behind her. The men were gearing up around her and for once never even gave her a second glance. At least from what she could see. She squinted in the bright light then began to make her way down to the ocean. She walked into the water and waded out to a small lone rock and sat upon it, splashing her face with water.

Patroclus watched her from the awning of the tent. The way she washed the skin on her arms and legs then lifted her hair and let water drip from her slender hands onto her hot, smooth skin. She was as troubled as he was about the war; of course, they were troubled for different reasons. He folded his arms and half smiled when she paddled her feet on the waters surface. It was then that he noticed a soldier from Agamemnon's army appreciating her innocent beauty as well. He was approaching her from behind, leering at her and giving the thumbs up to his buddies behind him. He was almost at the water. Blind rage took hold of Patroclus and he stormed down the beach towards the soldier. He didn't get to him before the man reached her though and he grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her up to his height, spouting obscenities at her while she struggled to free herself from his grasp. Patroclus sped to them and grabbed the mans neck and spun the man round to face him. Alena was knocked off her feet and landed face down in the water. She lifted her head out of the water to hear what Patroclus was saying.

"You never look at her again, you never speak of her again, you never even think of her again. I am a patriot but I have no issue driving a sword through your heart for your impudence. You understand me brother?"

The soldier nodded with a pained expression as Patroclus squeezed his neck tighter. He then pushed the soldier away and watched him jog off back to his mates, Alena watching on in disbelief. Patroclus picked her up before she could do anything and carried her back to his tent, her clothes wet and dripping. They reached the tent and he dropped her down on the floor.

"I told you! You are not to leave the tent! I warned you about the nature of these men and you disobeyed me! I thought we trusted each other!" He raged.

"We- we do Patroclus. I only wanted to cool down and the water is so close to the tent. I didn't think-"

"No, well that's obvious! I told you that you weren't to leave the tent and you left. What does that say to me? Well?!"

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her bottom lip trembling. She quickly turned away from him and he immediately felt worse. He huffed but knew he had to be firm. She put herself in severe danger.

"I have to talk with Achilles about the plans for today. I'm going to tie you to the post again." She turned to him hurt etched in her face. "It's for your own safety Melena."

She dropped her head and he took her soft hands and tied them to the post.

"What if I die of thirst, will you feel bad for binding my hands?" she muttered not looking at him.

"I'll be back before we leave. Then we'll sort something out."

He was gone for about half an hour and Alena had fallen into a light slumber, her pretty head leaning against the wooden post. Then Patroclus stormed in and threw his armour on the ground before throwing himself onto his stool. Alena woke up and watched him in a confused manner; she was disoriented from the sudden awakening. He poured himself some wine and drank deep from the cup. Then he looked at her, anger in his eyes.

"I'm not fighting today. The Myrmidons are not fighting the first major battle in this war!"

"The first?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes of course the first. Did you think this would be one fight then we would go home and everything would be as it was?"

"No, I'm not that foolish, but how many battles will there be?"

"Many. There will be many, Melena."

He stood up and walked over to her. He untied her then retied her hands together free from the post. She looked at him, wondering if she could get away with asking more questions. She didn't need to.

"We're going to watch the fight from a cliff overlooking your land. Try to not show any emotion when your country starts to lose, it would not bode well with the men."

She looked to the ground and muttered "Why do I have to come? You could leave me here."

"That would be nice but say that soldier stays behind for a moment behind everyone else. He could put his sword through you and still be at the battle before it starts. Come on."

He pulled gently on the rope and she moved along beside him. They met with the Myrmidons and made their way to watch the battle.

They reached an appropriate look out point and watched the armies gathering, two giant, powerful armies. All fighting over a woman. Alena sat on the warm ground, the sun blazing down onto her skin. Her freckles were coming out, like they did when she played with her brothers in the sun as a child. She missed those days; she could see her brothers in the distance, two specks in front of a sea of men. Everyone was very quiet as the Trojan Princes approached the Greek Kings. It was clear that there was some debate going on. Then they all wandered back to their armies where they armoured up. Then to Alena's horrified surprise, the smaller of her brothers started to walk out to meet who she assumed was Menelaus.

"Paris!" She breathed.

"So, that is Paris." Patroclus smirked. "A direct fight between him and Menelaus, he must be brave. Menelaus is fearless at the best of times. I hate to think how relentless he will be with the boy who dishonoured him?"

She looked up at him, pain etched on her face. He frowned at her when he seen this.

"I was right about you," She said quietly "This really is a game to you and every other man."

She turned her face back to the scene. Patroclus scowled and done the same. The one to one combat was pitiful at best. Paris was brought to the ground after a few strikes against him and Patroclus couldn't help but notice how Melena flinched at every blow. She even let out a small yelp when Paris' leg got cut open. The Myrmidons laughed as they watched him scurry back to his brother and hold tightly to his leg, like a lost child. They called him a fool and ridiculed Priam for not training both his sons as he should. Alena choked back her angry words against them and against Paris for being such a damned coward. He was disgracing them all over again. Menelaus walked up to her brothers and raised his sword as the Greek army took the fighting stance. She almost looked away when she saw the sword beginning to drop but then Hector done something nobody was expecting. He drew his sword and thrust it into Menelaus' abdomen.

"No!" Alena breathed and stood up walking forward, only to be jerked back by the rope. She tugged on it and tried to run forward as her elder brother helped her younger brother limp back to prepare for the war. The rope was stretched taut as the other men sniggered at Patroclus for taking this behaviour. No one noticed Achilles appearing behind them. He simply walked over and yanked the rope back, pulling Alena off her feet and landing on her back on the ground. She hit the ground and started writhing in pain, her face screwed up. Patroclus went to pick her up, genuinely worried about her but Achilles grabbed his arm and shook his head,

"You have her tied up like a dog... that means you have to treat her like a dog. And when dogs don't obey their master, they get punished."

"She's hurt!" he snapped at his older cousin.

"She is a disobedient dog!" Achilles snapped back.

Patroclus pushed past him and bent over Alena who had silent tears running down her freckled face, which he briefly touched before picking her up and carrying her away. He got her further away from the battlefield before sitting down, cradling her in his arms. He wiped the tears off her face but she turned her face away from his hand.

"Are you badly hurt?" He asked tentatively.

She shook her head and took a shaky breath. Fresh tears fell from her eyes.

"Then, why are you still crying?" he said, confused.

"Because," she looked back at him, "I don't understand you!"

"Understand me?" he was really confused.

"One minute you're nasty to me, trying to prove your superiority over me. Trying to show off to the other men that you have a little slave girl. Then you're the most wonderful caring person I've met. I am so confused and exhausted from trying to understand you and your mood swings..."

She kept going on about this but he couldn't hear what she was saying anymore. He hated when he was nasty to her but he had to be, or else he would lose face in front of the other men. He didn't know how to prove to her that he did honestly care about her and how sorry he was for being nasty to her.

"...I just wish that you could be one person or the other. The person who I could grow to hate or the person who I already really really-"

He put his lips to hers. He hadn't planned to kiss her, it just happened. As if it was what he would've done anyway. The funny thing was, it felt totally natural, as if they had done it a million times before.

It felt right.

The kiss ended and he lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes were completely wide and the first thing she said was:

"Like."

He laughed when he realised she was finishing her sentence. Then it became very quiet.

"So..." he murmured "how's your back feeling?"

"Oh!" She squeaked, her face as red as a tomato, "it's still a bit sore but I think I should be ok to walk."

She tried to get up but it was clear she was still in pain, so he laughed again, picked her up and carried her all the way back to the campsite.

Both of them had completely forgotten about the battle raging on behind them.