A/N: 'Ello folks! Welcome to the first real chapter of Perseus: Excidium Troiae. I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. Please do leave a review, comment, vote or a kudos. A special thanks to BJack12 for being my first reviewer from FFN and MarilynL for being the first to comment on AO3. (Them wattpad folks are stingy. Don't be a silent reader, Wattpaders. Do tell me what you think). Credit for some ideas go to ZelotArchon.
Anyway, I present to you…Chapter One.
Enjoy the story!
PERSEUS' eyes flickered open. The young five year old blinked and then rubbed his eyes, trying to force the sleepiness away. His gaze travelled across the city they were approaching.
The boy looked on in awe as they crossed the ramparts and flew into the city of Troy. His bright green eyes were wide with amazement as he soaked in everything laid before him. From the chariot in the sky he could see all that was going on below him. He could make out the people and animals; he could see the shops and buildings. The city was surrounded by huge white walls, which they had just passed. He'd heard of them from his mother. Poseidon had built the walls of the city when he was exiled to the mortal world by his brother the sky god, Zeus.
The boy frowned with distaste, pushing all thoughts of the god of the sea from his head. Even though it had been a year since his mater's death, he still hadn't forgiven his father for what he had done. He despised him so so much.
"Perseus." The voice made him look up. "You woke up just in time. We're here."
Apollo sent a warm smile in his direction and the young child beamed at him, all worries and hatred for his father forgotten. He rose from his seat at the back of the golden chariot and moved forward to stand near the god of the sun. Apollo held the reins of his chariot firmly, his warm gold eyes fixed on the horizon.
"The city is beautiful."
"It is," Apollo answered, a smile playing on his lips.
"Am I going to see you again?" The boy questioned, tilting his head to the side.
"Of course," Apollo grinned. "I'm the patron god of this city so I'm here quite a lot. I'll even take you with me back to Delos so you can see Mother again sometime."
Perseus smiled in satisfaction. "I think I would like that. I miss her already."
The god of the sun didn't answer, choosing to remain quiet. A comfortable silence settled over them and Perseus found himself leaning into the god's side. Although Apollo said he would visit, he didn't know when that would be. He sighed, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He was going to have a new family from this day.
Perseus watched, apprehension flooding through him as a huge palace came into view. Was he going to live there? Was Apollo giving sending him to the royals? The little boy bit his lip. He knew Leto and Apollo wanted the best for him. He knew they would probably want him to live in comfort and relaxation.
He licked his tiny lips as Apollo rode the sun past the Royal Palace. They continued flying forward, past the hills and forests, past the fields and the beautiful city plains. They flew on until the got to the outskirts of the town. Perseus pressed himself deeper into the god's side as the chariot began descending on the green hills. He could see a hut a few feet away from them and his small mind guessed that was where he would be living.
He watched on as the fiery horses of the sun settled onto the ground.
"Alright, it's time to go." Apollo dropped his reins, reaching down to grab him. "Your new home awaits."
Perseus smiled slightly, allowing the immortal to carry him out of the chariot. They began making their way to the hut on the hill, talking as they went. He looked up when he heard the sound of a door creaking open.
The demigod child blinked in surprise as a fairly young man walked out of the hut. He wore a grey chiton which reached his knees. His sandals looked new, a sign that he was from a wealthy home. His hair was dark with streaks of grey running through it, although he couldn't have seen more than thirty summers. He had dark, dry and tanned skin. His eyes were friendly and his smile warm and infectious. Perseus found himself grinning at him. The man held a staff, like the shepherds from the boy's old home used to do and he walked with a slight limp. His left leg was unmoving and he dragged himself forward with the long wooden pole. The young child realized the man was crippled.
The man approached them, his eyes twinkling.
"Lord Apollo," His head dipped in what the boy reckoned was a bow. "Welcome back."
"Anchises," Apollo greeted the man like they were old friends. He motioned to Perseus with his hand. "This is the boy I was speaking about. Perseus."
Perseus smiled shyly, waving at the man called Anchises. Anchises' voice was kind as he addressed the son of Poseidon. "You are welcome to Troy, Perseus. You are going to love it here."
He nodded, green eyes examining his surroundings. He felt a hand fall on his shoulder and Apollo squeezed his shoulder gently. "Take care of him, Anchises. He's a good lad."
"I will," the shepherd nodded to the god of the sun. "I shall make sure he is comfortable enough. He's going to feel at home. Lord Hermes dropped off Aeneas a day ago on Aphrodite's command and I have a feeling they are going to be inseparable."
Aeneas? Who is Aeneas? Perseus' thoughts went wild as he tried to figure out who the man was referring to.
"That's good, then," Apollo's hands left his shoulder and settled on his dark unruly hair. He played with the dark locks of Perseus' hair, weaving them around his fingers. "I have seen his future. He is going to accomplish great things. He is going to be the greatest hero this city has ever seen. Make sure he doesn't come to harm, Anchises."
Perseus' brow furrowed in confusion. He didn't understand half the things Apollo had just said.
"I'll do my best, Lord Apollo."
He watched on with curiosity as the man hobbled around with his stick. He turned so he was facing the hut. His voice was carried down the valley surrounding the hills. "Aeneas, child, would you mind coming out for a bit?"
"Coming, Father!"
Perseus heard the sound of running and the footsteps got closer and louder. A boy burst out of the hut, a wide smile plastered onto his face, He seemed to be the same age as Perseus. His eyes had the same twinkle Anchises' did. He was lean, with curly black hair and softly oxen brown eyes.
The boy paused as he advanced, blinking in surprise. He moved forward slowly, uncertainty flashing through his eyes. When he got to them, he dropped into a bow. "Lord Apollo."
The god smiled at the boy, obviously pleased that he had been recognized by someone so young. "Rise, child."
He obliged, moving to stand next to his father. "Why have you called me here, pater?"
Anchises motioned with his free hand to Perseus and Apollo. "Phoebus Apollo wishes for me to take in this child, Perseus. He shall be living with us from now."
"Oh…okay," The boy smiled.
Perseus felt excitement flood through him again at the prospect of having a brother. He guessed that was what Aeneas would become to him after his stay started. Perseus watched as the son of Anchises moved away from his father and approached him. He beamed at him, pearly white teeth flashing.
Like it happened with the boy's father, Perseus found himself smiling back at Aeneas. He had only just arrived but he was already feeling warm and welcome.
He had a feeling he was going to enjoy living in the city of Troy.
-X-
According to Aeneas, his father was a distant cousin of the king, Priam. He was one of the 'Lords' of the city, but spent most of his time in the fields, looking after the sheep and crops although it was the servants and peasant's work. Anchises had said Hermes had delivered Aeneas to his doorsteps the day before. As Perseus recalled the shepherd-nobleman's words, Aeneas had confirmed that he was indeed the son of the goddess Aphrodite. He had lived with river nymphs on Mount Ida from the time he had been born and had only been brought back to his father Anchises after five summers (the day before) by Hermes, the messenger god who visited Apollo on Delos sometimes. Perseus' questions concerning Anchises were answered by his son, who seemed more than willing to share his life story (which he'd only learned the day before) after the shepherd-nobleman had shown Perseus to his room.
Aphrodite had been placed under a spell by Zeus and had fallen in love with Aeneas' father and she bore him a son. When the spell was broken, she made him swear an oath not to tell anyone, then took Aeneas to the nymphs of the mountain. She had named him Aeneas, which meant grief so that the whole world would know that she did not love his father and had been compelled by the powers of the king of Olympus. About one summer ago, which was the time where Perseus' own mater had died, Anchises had been drunk and had spilled the secret, for which he had been blasted with a lightning bolt belonging to Lord Zeus. He had survived, of course, but he had been left crippled from the blast.
They exchanged stories, with Aeneas telling him of his encounters with the gods of Olympus, and Perseus revealing his godly heritage. He had told the son of love about his mother and how she was taken away by the sea. He told him about how he met the god of the sun and the Titaness of motherhood after washing up on the Island of Delos.
It was hard to tell whose story was more impressive.
Eventually, the topic of conversation changed to other things. Anything apart from the gods of Olympus. Soon, they were laughing and chuckling and the boy of five summers felt like he'd know the son of Anchises forever.
Before he went to his room, Aeneas said, "I know you just got here, Perseus, and you have to settle in first, but would you like to go explore the city with me tomorrow?"
Perseus beamed. "Of course." Both of them were new to Troy and Perseus was itching to see all the things he'd viewed from the sky on land. Aeneas smiled back easily, his white teeth flashing. "Goodnight, then."
Perseus bid the brown-eyed boy goodnight and retired to his new bed. That night, as he drifted off to sleep, he thanked Apollo and Leto for deciding to send him to Troy.
XMX
Three years later…
He had seen eight summers now. He was eight years old.
His memories of his life before meeting Apollo and Leto were distant and hazy. He couldn't recall what his mother looked like, or where they had lived before the ship. He had not known any other place since Apollo had delivered him on Anchises' doorstep. But he was okay with that. He had no complaints and he was satisfied with his new life.
He was in love with the city. His city. He loved Troy, with its high walls and beautiful palaces and buildings. He loved the wonderfully carved temples of Apollo and Artemis found in the city. The sky is always blue, the sun always a bright golden hue, as if Apollo was smiling down at him; watching over him. The grass was green, everything flawless. He loved to walk the forests with his brother Aeneas, scaling the huge trees, looking at the various animals. He loved his father Anchises' stories about the great heroes of old and he loved Apollo's visits. He had been to Delos three times since he had arrived in Troy three years before.
Most of the people of the city knew of him as Anchises' son. He had told no one about his birth father, Poseidon, who the Trojans also respected because of the wall he built. Neither had he told anyone about his close relationship with Apollo and Leto. He didn't want to be treated differently from the other boys. They would all start fawning over him if they found out he had lived with their patron god for a year and that the god in question was practically like a second father to him. Apollo's visits every month entailed training Perseus, both physically and mentally. Even though he was young, he still knew a lot of things the King's advisors didn't. Apollo was training him and his brother Aeneas to be scholars; to read and write and excel at everything they did and win every argument. To know the gods and the goddesses, what they liked and didn't. What they would kill for.
When his eighth summer had come, he had started training with the patron god of Troy, to the immense delight of his father Anchises. Apollo had said he was a fast learner. His skills with the sword were his strong point, although he was learning a new thing about sword fighting every day.
He knew Apollo was very busy, performing his duties as a god. But somehow, the Olympian managed to find time for Perseus, and he was glad he had met the god.
His brother Aeneas was not a warrior. Like their father Anchises, he was a peaceful man (boy?) and wanted nothing to do with war and weapons. But Apollo had said he needed to learn to defend himself. Perseus had frozen at Apollo's words, a subtle hint of what was to come. "You have to learn to fight, Aeneas. War and death don't care if you don't know how to wield a sword. They'll swoop down on you either way, like a tidal wave and before you know it, you're on the banks of the Styx."
And so Aeneas had joined him, but only because Anchises had also insisted as if he also knew what Apollo was referring to.
"Keep your head in the game, Perseus," Apollo's voice drawled from in front of him. He barely managed to duck a slash from the god's golden sword and sidestepped at another thrust. "If this was the battlefield, you would be dead by now."
Perseus caught Aeneas rolling his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. "But it's not, Lord Apollo. It hasn't been for a while."
Apollo forced out a laugh, and Perseus' eyes narrowed, trying to see through his second-father who was more like an older brother as he grew. He didn't understand why Apollo was so serious in their training. He was only eight, after all. He'd heard from his father that most of the boys in Troy didn't start training until they'd seen twelve summers.
"Another point to note: Never get distracted or lost in your thoughts when fighting. That could be your last mistake."
Perseus suddenly dived forward, making to slash at the god's feet. Apollo jumped up, avoiding the strike and brought his sword down as if to cleave through Perseus' neck. His arm reacted before he had time to think, blocking the blow with his sword. Apollo pressed forward, gritting his teeth as Perseus let out a huff. The god finally pushed him back and Perseus cursed, spinning on his heel and trying to slice at Apollo's chest as he did so. The golden sword parried Perseus' strike, and the blade hit the base of Perseus'. Apollo twisted, putting his whole weight in a downward thrust.
And Perseus' sword clattered out of his hand.
He was breathing heavily, his face and hair damp with sweat as he glanced at Apollo and his own sword on the ground. Aeneas was silent, his eyes wide. Perseus understood. That technique—that move—it was spectacular. Finally, Perseus spoke, "You have got to teach me that."
Apollo broke into a smile. "All in good time, Perseus. You aren't there yet."
He folded his arms, letting a fake scowl grace his face at being bested. He let out another huff. "Fine. Are we done here, then?"
"We are," Apollo confirmed. "You're getting better every day, Perseus. So are you, Aeneas." His brother came to stand beside him and Perseus felt his chest swell with pride. It wasn't everyday Apollo complimented them.
"I'll be back at sunset for your other lessons. Tell your father I wish to speak to him when I return."
"We will," Aeneas responded.
"See you later, Apollo," Perseus said. A smile in his direction. He felt a warmth surround him—a note of goodbye—as Apollo faded into light, with the words. "Goodbye, boys."
-X-
AENEAS grabbed his brother by his wrist, pulling him along while running through the forest and let out a laugh. "What's with the face, Perseus?"
"It's nothing," Perseus shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. The brown-haired boy could tell his voice had broken through his brother's thoughts. He slowed down, letting go of Perseus' hand, and bumped him with his shoulder. "Don't think too hard on Apollo's words. There's no need to lose sleep over them. He's always speaking in riddles."
Perseus simply nodded at Aeneas's words, his shoulders sagging as he let out a small puff of relief. He smiled at Aeneas. "You're right. As usual." They both burst out laughing. Aeneas tried to keep with his brother as they walked. Even though he had only seen eight summers and they were both the same age, the way Perseus carried himself always made him seem older. Every time Aeneas glanced at his brother, he remembered Apollo's words on his first day in Troy. Perseus was destined for great things. And Aeneas…well, he was sure he would get a job as a guard or something when he grew up.
They continued trekking through the woods until they finally got to the city proper. Aeneas and Perseus walked side by side, talking as they walked and laughing as they went. The sun above them seemed to brighten and Aeneas couldn't help but smile slightly. Even when busy, Apollo was watching. He had to thank Perseus for that. The only real encounter he had had with mythical beings was his stay with the nymphs of Mount Ida. He'd never even seen his mother before.
Not once.
And he didn't know how to feel about that.
He glanced around as they passed by the Temple of Jove, or Zeus as the Greeks called him. For about the millionth time in his life, he stared in awe at it and felt a sense of pride enter his chest. The city was magnificent. And it was his.
"Remind me again," Perseus spoke up from beside him, "Why father decided to live at the edge of the city, and so, so far from any human life?"
Aeneas chortled. "You can ask him when we get there." They entered the market and Aeneas felt around his tunic, checking if his pouch was still there. Even in a great city like Troy, there was no telling what the children and beggars would do to survive. His father and Apollo had drilled it into them. No letting your guard down when in crowded places.
"Hey!" A voice cut through the several noises of the market centre. "Stop!" Beside him, Perseus froze. Aeneas' sighed and turned slightly to face his brother, then let out a loud oomph as someone slammed into him. He felt his foot slip from underneath him, then he was falling to the ground.
-X-
HECTOR groaned, rubbing the back of his head in annoyance. His eyes fluttered open as he cursed under his breath. The thief had escaped before he could get to them and now the nice market lady wouldn't be getting any money to feed her family. A frown settled onto his face as he looked ahead, trying to spot the clumsy idiot who had caused him to fall. His eyes narrowed when he caught sight of the two boys a few metres ahead of him, with one rubbing his head and the other chuckling under his breath. Hector forced himself to stand, and then strode towards them.
"The least you could have done was apologize, you know," The one on the left drawled, eyes narrowing as Hector stopped in front of them. Hector scrutinized them, eyeing the cheeky one slightly. They both looked about a year or two younger than him, and the one who had just spoken had dark black hair and deep sea-green eyes. The one by his side had brown hair and similarly brown eyes.
Brown-hair elbowed Green-eyes in the ribs and hissed. "Quiet, Perseus."
So he was the smart one.
"What?" Perseus barked, rolling his eyes. "He bumped into you first, Aeneas."
"He's the Prince, you idiot."
Hector's eyes narrowed. That was how it always was. He's the Prince. It wasn't as if he asked to be the heir of the trojan throne. And he hated that people treated him differently because of that. "And said prince is standing right in front of you, you know." He finally spoke up.
"He's sorry," Aeneas apologized for Perseus.
Hector scowled. "You made the thief get away."
"We're sorry for that too," Aeneas said. Hector's eyes snapped over to the green-eyed boy, Perseus. He was quietly looking the first Prince of Troy up and down as if gauging where to stick the knife at his side into. Hector waved his hand, dismissing the apology. "It's nothing. I'll get a description of him and find him again. Somehow."
"Well, we'll be going now," Aeneas spoke again. "Excuse us, Prince Hector." The brown-haired boy took Perseus by the hand and began leading him away. Hector didn't know why he did it, but he blurted, "Please, it's Hector. Just Hector."
XMX
Two Summers Later…
The next time they saw Hector was two summers later. Perseus was on his way to the northern edge of the city, a smile on his face as he was greeted by people, both young and old. He smiled slightly again. Five summers living in Troy and he still couldn't get enough of it. He waved at a few children as they walked past, bobbing his head in greeting. Perseus walked on, head held high like Apollo and his father had thought him and continued marching in the direction of the Coliseum. He was certain Aeneas would be around there somewhere. His brother had taken to doing some very odd jobs around the city, and for the life of him, Perseus couldn't figure out why. He frowned as he heard the voice floating through the air.
"Hey! Let go of me!" Aeneas. That was Aeneas, and he was in trouble. Before he could process it, Perseus was running, his hand reaching moving to his side. In a swift motion, he was armed and the ten summer old boy was ready to bash his brother's attacker's teeth in.
"Where's your bodyguard, Aeneas?' A voice taunted. "Scared because Perseus isn't here to protect you? Or did you think you could run away from our fight today?"
He gritted his teeth at the laughter that followed. Achates. That prat had been terrorizing Aeneas and Perseus since Perseus had stopped him from beating up another kid a while back. He was going to kill him if he dared to harm his brother.
Perseus skidded to a stop in front of them, letting his anger consume him at the sight of Aeneas being held by two boys, who looked about three summers older than them. And standing before them was the blond-haired bully himself. Perseus took a menacing step forwards as Achates told another joke at Aeneas' expense.
"Let him go." The voice was immaculate and collected, although there was a hard edge to it.
Perseus stopped in shock as another person walked in. Hector looked just like he had the day they had met him. There was a cloak covering his figure, but Perseus could see the kingly robes underneath them. Dark black hair fell in ringlets around his face and stopped at his neck, jutting out like the back end of a cockerel. There was a diadem on his head, and Perseus could see it very clearly, although it was partially covered by his dark hair. And his eyes were hard as he took in the scene before him.
The boys immediately let go of Aeneas, who scrambled away quickly. He glanced around and Perseus frowned when Aeneas turned pale at seeing him.
"Now scram," Hector said, again in that cool, collected voice. Even Achates seemed to be quivering in his tunic. The blond-haired boy sneered at Aeneas one last time, before taking off after his friends, who had ran before Hector could complete his sentence.
Perseus visibly relaxed when the bullies were gone, then turned rigid again when Hector's gaze turned on him. Aeneas walked towards Perseus slowly, rubbing his nape sheepishly. "You weren't supposed to see that."
Perseus sent him a small glare as he remembered Achates' words about a fight. His expression said I'll deal with you later. Moving his gaze from his brother, he stalked towards Hector, keeping his eyes on the Prince of Troy who had scared Achates and his friends away.
"Thank you," He said, sticking out a hand. A pregnant pause.
"Anytime," Hector nodded, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled and took Perseus' hands.
Perseus turned again, to scold Aeneas, then stopped as Hector said, "Would you like to come with me? I can help you nurse Aeneas' bruises. The ones he's very desperately trying to hide."
Perseus spun slowly, eyes narrowed. Then he laughed slightly when he heard Aeneas sputter and saw Hector smirk. The word spilled out of his mouth before he could think it through. "Sure."
-X-
Two summers later…
AENEAS laughed as Hector shoved him good-naturedly. Perseus shook his head and bit his lip as if trying to prevent himself from joining them. Finally, his always-too-serious brother laughed, clutching his sides. Aeneas danced out of Hector's way again, backing away so he was close to the lake; a way to escape if Hector attacked.
He ducked under another swing and from the corner of his eye, saw Perseus jumping off the boulder he had been on.
"That's enough, guys," Perseus said, walking towards them. "Hector, get over yourself. Aeneas, please stop taunting him."
Hector folded his arms, but grinned, stepping away from Aeneas. Aeneas laughed at his brother's words. If this had been two summers ago, Perseus wouldn't have even said a word to the Prince of Troy. Since that fateful day he had challenged Achates in the hopes of getting him off their backs, Hector, Aeneas and Perseus had been inseparable. Perseus and Hector had nursed Aeneas' bruises while scolding him for trying to pick a fight, and the son of King Priam had seen them again the next day, asking them to accompany him and his cousins into the forest to help the commander of the army while he was hunting.
From then, they had done everything together. Aeneas and Hector had instantly become close, but Perseus…it took a while for him to trust the Heir of Troy.
"Aeneas, if you're done daydreaming, we have places to be," Hector drawled, letting his hands fall to his side. Aeneas shook his head to clear his thoughts. His friend spoke slowly, his words calculating. He wasn't outspoken, but when he lost his temper…Aeneas had seen firsthand how bad he could get. He wasn't sure Achates' ego had recovered yet.
"He's right," Perseus said, his lips curling in distaste as he continued. "We have to get to lyre practice with the other boys. And then we must practice weaponry after." A smile appeared on his face.
Aeneas' eyes lit up at the mention of lyre practice. They were being taught the art of music, in honour of Phoebus Apollo, their patron god. The lessons had started when all the boys in Troy their age had seen twelve summers. There were others who had already been practicing, like Hector, and Aeneas and Perseus had joined the lessons when they were twelve. Aeneas had received a lyre—a delicate, beautiful thing—from his mother, Aphrodite. Well, technically, she hadn't brought it to him personally. Apollo had.
Aeneas had never wanted to be a warrior. He didn't know why he had to practice weaponry. He wanted to be a musician; to serenade the city with his voice and his music. Hector and Perseus…well, they were made for war. They were serious about learning how to fight, so they could defend the city when they were needed. And Aeneas felt like a coward for not wanting to do the same.
"And we lost him again." Hector chuckled.
"I'm always wondering where the Hades he gallivants off to in his daydreams," Perseus shook his head. "Come on, Aeneas, we'll be late."
He snapped out of his thoughts, laughing. "Sorry, sorry, let's go."
XMX
They walked to the fields, where the other boys already were. Aeneas frowned when he noticed Achates and his cronies. He spotted a few others with who he was familiar and waved. Perseus took a seat on the ground, grunting as he did so. They had passed by their hut on the outskirts to get their lyres and then had accompanied Hector to the palace (although the did not enter) for his. Aeneas took a seat next to his brother, and Hector sat on his other side. The chattering stopped when he did. The boys were all gawking at Hector in a mixture of hate, awe and envy. They were jealous of him—jealous of Aeneas and Perseus for being friends with him—but they were too scared to voice their opinions.
Aeneas glanced down at his lyre. It had been crafted by Hephaestus himself, made from materials he did not know. The strings were beautifully made and when he played, the sound which came out was heavenly, as Hector had once told him. Perseus fiddled with his golden lyre, waiting patiently for their instructor, Chromius, to arrive. His lyre had been a gift from Apollo's mother Leto. He had received it after going for his yearly visit to the Island of Delos. Hector's instrument was just as beautiful, although this was the second lyre he had used since their lessons began. The first was destroyed, its strings snapped.
He heard the instructor before he saw him. Chromius walked into the fields and Aeneas straightened, waiting for him to start. The boys, who had started chattering again, stopped.
"Welcome again, boys," Chromius said in greeting. "It's nice to see you decided to return after our first lesson."
From beside Aeneas, Perseus muttered, "Like we had a choice. Gods forbid we decide we have better things to do in life."
"I heard that, Perseus," Chromius arched an eyebrow. Perseus flushed, muttering a small sorry.
"Okay, so who can help us remember exactly what we did two days ago?" Aeneas wanted to raise his hand. But he also didn't want to be the butt of Achates' jokes. "Anyone want to play?" Chromius rephrased his sentence. When everyone remained silent, he sighed. "How about you, Hector?"
Aeneas had to force himself not to laugh. Everyone knew Hector's hands were calloused and burly from using weapons from such a young age. They were somewhat like Perseus', although his brother's were less rough and burly. Each time Hector tried to play, the strings of his instrument snapped. Aeneas had lost count of how many times they had been replaced.
"Uh, sure," Hector said, turning red. Perseus elbowed Aeneas, shooting him a look to stop him from laughing. Hector placed a hand on his strings and Aeneas could see him gulp. He played a tune—which was so bad Aeneas cringed—and Chromius held up a hand for him to stop. The instructor sighed, turning, and Aeneas turned to Hector, silently showing him how to play the tune they had studied two days before.
Hector silently mouthed his thanks and Aeneas bobbed his head in response. Chromius turned back to them and said, "Aeneas, why don't you show them how it's done."
"Alright." He leaned forward, his hands moving across the strings as he played a tune. His brow furrowed in concentration as he stuck his tongue out and played, pouring his heart into the song. After a while, he stopped. There was a loud silence when he was done and Aeneas blinked as he looked up. Hector was staring at his fingers in awe, while Perseus looked proud. The other boys had expressions similar to Prince Hector's.
Aeneas smiled silently to himself and enjoyed the rest of the lesson.
-X-
PERSEUS rolled his eyes at Opheltius' words. Their music lessons had ended hours ago and he had silently thanked all the gods he knew. He had seen Aeneas enjoying himself, but he hadn't. He disliked music so much Apollo had had to blackmail him to actually use the lyre Leto had gifted him.
"If you have a problem with my lessons, Perseus, you should say something," The instructor spoke, voice hard. Perseus heard a couple of snickers from behind him. Apollo's lessons were far better than this trash. But training was training. And he wanted to be prepared for whatever Apollo and the gods had planned for him.
He remained silent as Opheltius breezed on, "The spear is to be an extension of your body. You are to move in tandem with it, it must be part of you." Perseus badly wanted to say Can we get on with it?
"Prince Hector here has been training since he was old enough to wield a knife." Opheltius motioned to his friend. Perseus could feel the prince roll his eyes. "Could you show these boys how it's done?"
"With pleasure," Hector stepped forward. "Who am I to fight?"
"Perseus," Opheltius grinned widely. Perseus snorted silently. He really hated the old soldier. And it looked as if the feeling was mutual. Hector's eyes widened as Perseus stepped forward, shrugging. He'd been training with a god for four summers. He was sure he could give Hector a fairly good battle, friend or not.
And Hector knew it. Aeneas had divulged most of their secrets to Hector when the son of Priam had found them training in the forest with Apollo. Hector knew about their godly descents, their closeness with the patron god and everything else. But he hadn't treated them differently for it, and Perseus appreciated it.
"Well, Hector, let's see how good you are," Perseus smirked slightly. "You ready?"
"Of course," Hector smiled back. "Always am."
Both of them moved to Opheltius and took a spear each. The steel weapon was longer than Aeneas, which was saying something and Perseus snickered silently at the thought. Hector walked towards a huge table, where the weapons were laid out, with Perseus on his heels. Perseus scanned the table, looking for a shield to go with his spear. He spotted a huge round bronze one at the end of the table and made his way to it. Grabbing the piece of weaponry which had a sun plastered on it, he slung it over his arm.
Perseus was aware of the other boys staring at them. Most of them knew how well he fought without weapons. But Hector had been training for a long time and he was sure they would be exchanging coins and placing bets on who would win.
He and Hector moved towards the centre of the circle the boys had formed. Opheltius was standing next to the weapons-table, his eyes narrowed and his gaze on Perseus. The Prince of Troy moved to Perseus' other side and dipped his head.
"May the best man win."
"He will," Perseus smirked, slipping into a defensive position.
"Begin," The instructor's voice rang through the fields.
XMX
HECTOR attacked first. That probably wasn't the brightest move but he had been thought not to let his enemies get close enough to get under his guard. His spear shot out from his side, heading straight for Perseus' chest as he raced for his friend. Perseus sidestepped his thrust, spinning slightly and swinging his spear fluidly. Hector would have been dead had it not been for his fast reflexes. He ducked under Perseus' spear and kicked out with his leg, hoping to catch his friend off balance.
Perseus danced out of his way and Hector cursed under his breath. He was at a serious disadvantage. Perseus was far more skilled because he trained with an Olympian. Hector shot up, thrusting again at the dark-haired boy.
Their spears met in a flurry of sparks. He lost track of the time as they spun and fought, trying to get under each other's guards. Hector was too focused to even marvel. No one had been able to keep him locked in combat for as long as Perseus had done. He hissed slightly as the business end of his friend's spear nicked through his armour and sliced flesh. He blocked the next strike with his shield, then feinted a thrust to the left.
Perseus laughed at the ploy, and moved backwards, out of range. He was enjoying himself. Hector could see it. Both of them were panting and sweaty, but Perseus' eyes were lit with a fire that Hector never saw unless they were duelling. He attacked again with a roar and got lost in his thoughts as he tried to best his friend.
After what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes, Opheltius' voice cut through their fight. "That's enough, boys."
Hector paused in his onslaught on Perseus, who had gone on the defensive, and stepped away. Perseus did the same, dropping both the shield and spear. Hector hadn't even heard the murmuring from the other boys when it had begun, being too focused on his fight. Perseus was still smiling as Opheltius said, "Well, that was…interesting."
"Yes, I'm sure you're very surprised," Perseus said, shooting their instructor an innocent look. Hector smiled slightly as he moved to his friend. "That was good. I really enjoyed it."
"Likewise," Perseus grabbed his hand and pulled him in a hug.
"Alright, Perseus, Hector," Opheltius spoke. "Join the others. When you're done, everyone choose a partner."
-X-
PERSEUS smiled slightly as he and Aeneas trained. He enjoyed battle so much it was bad. But he didn't see it that way. He remembered Apollo's words. He was destined for something great. He would do anything to protect his people.
To protect the City of Troy.
A/N: Well, this was…unsatisfactory. Lmao, kidding. Nothing much happened in this story and it feels like an information dump, but it was necessary for the story to progress. This might not be my best piece of writing but I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading!
-Ken.