A/N: So, this is the last chapter of ARC II of Perseus: Excidium Troiae. Now the Cypria is officially done with.

I know this took long. I didn't intend to return back to writing fanfiction after my abrupt (and planned) disappearance. But someone told me to give it this one last shot. I've unpublished the guardians because it didn't really get the support I'd hoped it would, and that was partly my fault. I'll take it up again soon, but only when all corrections have been made.

Updates won't be constant. I have a life. I have obligations. I honestly don't care anymore if you don't like the story or if you have a problem. You can fuck off. Find another fanfiction to waste your life with. Stop reading. My writing isn't the best, I know, but keep your opinions to yourself unless it contributes positively to the story. And mind your own fucking business… I'm in a bad mood and I might come off as a bit aggressive but tbh I couldn't care less.

(Unedited–from 5 months ago)

ACHILLES stood next to the many Kings and commanders of the Achaean forces as Odysseus' ship sailed away. Things were getting bad. After the previous day's event, when the Trojans had almost succeeded in killing him and decimating the Greek forces, the entire encampment had been in disarray. Achilles was bruised all over, but several of the soldiers, hundreds of them, in fact, along with many Kings and commanders had been killed. The Trojans and their allies had burnt down the Blacksmith's workstation, and about four of their ships. Their medic tent was ashes now, and their food tents had also been destroyed. They were out of grain, and meat, and fruits, and Achilles hadn't eaten the whole day. No one had.

"Are you sure he'll be successful?" He turned to glance at Nestor.

The old wise King frowned, then answered, "Of that we can be sure. Odysseus is crafty and resourceful. If he does not succeed, we have no chance of beating the Trojans. We will all die of starvation before the final confrontation." It had been a unanimous decision, to have the King of Ithaca sail to Thrace to get grains and food to sustain their forces. Achilles sighed to himself. He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened the day prior. Gods had fought amongst themselves, immortals had wrecked the battlefield, just to protect Perseus, or to stop him from finding a way to kill Achilles. He pursed his lips. This war was just getting complicated with each day that passed.

"We must prepare for his return, then," Achilles said. "Bury our dead, hold the funeral games, and reorganise our forces. And then we attack when Odysseus comes."

"You are right," Nestor nodded. "Let us go, then. Much must be done before we can face the forces of Ilium again."

XMX

ODYSSEUS returned in three days. The Trojans didn't wait, and the Greeks had been surviving on fish and sea water since then. Achilles was honestly getting tired of it. Even though he was invincible, he still needed food for energy, and eating fish for three days wasn't exactly his definition of an energy provider. In those three days, Hector, Perseus, and Achilles had been fighting harder than ever. Their recent victory had boosted their confidence, because although they hadn't breached the walls since that time, they had come close to doing it again. Many times.

Several Achaeans had fallen to their onslaught, even though no gods had shown up to fight for the Trojans, and eventually, the Trojans had taken back their beach.

Achilles stood expectantly at the edge of the water, with several soldiers and Commanders. It was night time, and he could see the ships as they approached. Hope bloomed in his chest when the vessels finally hit the sand. He glanced up, hoping to catch sight of the curly haired King. Odysseus appeared at the prow of the ship and jumped down. Achilles stared at him, and as he did, a frown formed on his face. The King had defeat in his eyes.

"Well?" Agamemnon stepped forward. "Where is the grain?"

Odysseus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I did not find some," He finally said. "There was no grain." Achilles felt despair set in. If men continued dropping dead because of starvation, they would all have to pull out of the war, and return to their various cities. He clenched his jaw, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. And then he heard the scoff. "Of course you did not get grain." The son of Thetis glanced up in surprise. It was Palamedes, approaching Odysseus, anger on his face. "You witless, tactless man. Are you so stupid that you could not find simple grain to feed the army?" He sounded enraged and Achilles watched in shock as Odysseus' face closed off. His eyes turned cold and he glared at Palamedes.

"I suppose you think you can do better," His voice was icy.

Palamedes sneered, "Of course I can. I can do everything better than you."

Achilles' snorted at that. Gods, was the hunger so bad that it was driving even the Kings mad? Odysseus looked livid. Everyone had narrowed or wide eyes, and waited with bated breath for the response of the Ithacan. "Fine, then," Odysseus hissed out. "I did not find any grain. But if you're so smart, why don't you go find it instead. Let's see how well you fare." With that he spun away from the other Kings, and stormed towards his ship.

XMX

ACHILLES swore to himself as he took off his gauntlet, many days later. The battle had been a bloody one, and a losing one too. He had faced off against Hector this time, and although he had left the Heir injured, he had been too weak to do more. He was about to take off his other gauntlet when Patroclus raced through the tent flap. Achilles spun to him, about to speak, when he saw the frenzied expression his best friend wore.

"What's wrong?" He asked, brow creasing.

"The soldiers," Patroclus panted. "The soldiers are rebelling. They want to leave." Horror flooded him and his eyes widened. Swearing once more he yelled, "Come on," and took off towards the beach. The fair haired prince raced there as quickly as he could, forcing his feet faster. When he reached the edge of the water, he saw the soldiers, all of them, loading up the ships. Agamemnon and several of the kings were being held at sword point, Odysseus, Nestor, Diomedes and Lesser Ajax included. They were being restrained as their own men loaded the remaining supplies, food, and themselves onto the ships.

No…He let out a breath, glancing around him in shock. He could already see about three soldiers coming at him, weapons drawn.

"STOP!" He yelled out. At his order, it seemed as though the men halted in their actions. Several of them drew their swords, as though to fight him, but Patroclus stepped in front of him with a glare on his face and they moved back. Achilles swore to himself, for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He couldn't let them leave. They couldn't go. Not when they were so close. Not when the war would end in a year. He lifted a hand and said, "Stop! Don't go!"

A soldier, decked in Spartan armour, said, "No! We won't take orders from any of you any longer! We've been fighting Agamemnon's war for nearly ten years. We haven't seen our wives and children for so long!"

"We're tired of dying for Agamemnon and Menelaus," Another man snarled. "We're sick of this and we're leaving!" Shouts of approval came from all around. Achilles inhaled sharply, as another man shouted, "For years and years, we've been fighting, and Troy still stands. We didn't make an oath to Menelaus to fight with him when Helen is taken! If you want her back, you're all going to have to bloody do it yourselves!" Another wave of approving yells. The son of Thetis steeled his nerves, trying to keep his breath steady. He reached out for his sword slowly, and removed it from its sheath. The men tensed.

Achilles dropped his sword into the sand. "Look, I get it! We've all been fighting, and we're all tired. We're all sick of this war. But remember what Calchas promised all those years ago. Troy will fall! One more year, and it will all be over!"

"How are we supposed to keep this going for one year? We've been getting slaughtered daily!" The voice came from a soldier on a ship.

"We're not fighting for Menelaus, or Helen, or Agamemnon! I also never made any such oath! But here I am!" He paused, looking around. "We're here to win! We're here to fight, because our motherland has been slighted. We're here for the glory this will bring, and we're here because the future generations shall remember every last one of you, for the efforts you all put in this war."

"We're here, not to die senselessly, but to fight back, because that is what we do. That is who we are! Have you heard of the heroes like Heracles or Theseus or Jason, running from a battle?! You, Spartans, you are the greatest warriors known to the entirety of Greece. Ithacans, you're led by the craftiest and smartest of men. Argives, you are favoured by the goddess of wisdom herself! This is not Agamemnon's war! This is our war! And we cannot leave until we win!" He paused. "Warriors are remembered for their feats and for the number of people they kill. But us/we'll be remembered because we helped out a man who was wronged by another. We'll be remembered because we returned what was stolen from Greece! Wearing a crown doesn't make us greater than you. We might lead the charge into battle, and we might fight against the mightiest of Troy, but we're all just mortal. Like you, we can die. Some of us die everyday."

He paused. "Look. The truth is that we cannot win this war without you all. Alone, just us leaders against the Trojans and their allies? We would be killed before we reached the beach. The truth of it all, is that leaders need soldiers to survive. Leaders need soldiers to watch their backs. Leaders need brave men like you to fight when they're down! Without you, we are nothing, even though most of us never want to acknowledge the fact."

Murmurs had started spreading throughout the ranks of the soldiers. Achilles felt hope bloom in his chest. They seemed to be deliberating and discussing among themselves. Finally, one of them raised a hand. Achilles watched as the men surrounding his fellow Kings and commanders stepped away. He saw Menelaus shoot him a grateful look. "You raise a valid argument and salient points. The soldiers have acknowledged your words, godborn. We shall fight," One of the men said for them all. "But only for another year. When the tenth year is over, we are leaving, whether we've won, or not."

Achilles nodded to them, finally exhaling in relief. They had just dodged a rather large problem.

XMX

PALAMEDES returned a few days later with the grain. The encampment was full of celebration that night. People ate to their fill, and sung, and danced, after a long day of fighting. The only person who wasn't happy was Odysseus, but no one could be blamed for that.

Achilles was wandering through the sand next to the beach when he heard the voices. The men had fallen asleep around midnight, and although he had tried, he couldn't bring himself to enter Hypnos' realm. And so he had just been walking around the beach, thoughts about the war racing through his head.

"Just go down," One of the voices said. "I'll pull you up when you find the gold." Instantly he perked, eyes flickering across the terrain. But there was no one on the beach. He glanced around once more, and then another voice said, "I have a rope. Just tie it around your waist. Don't worry."

"Are you quite sure about this?" He recognised the voices now. Diomedes and Palamedes. Narrowing his eyes, he turned towards the trees in the distance. It was a sort of forest, an extension to the ones which surrounded Troy. He quietly made his way to the edge of the trees, and peered into the darkness. He could see both men, standing next to the edge of something round, like a well. They were speaking in whispers, and Diomedes was helping Palamedes tie something around his waist—the rope they had been talking about.

He watched, eyes squinted as Palamedes slowly stood on the edge of the well. Diomedes was holding the rope around his hands, and Palamedes said, "I'll tug it when I see the gold."

"Okay, then," Diomedes nodded his head in agreement. Achilles tilted his head in confusion. What was going on? What gold were they referring to? Palamedes jumped into the well, and Diomedes held it tight, slowly lowering him down. Achilles heard a rustle in the trees, and then Odysseus materialised from behind the leaves. "Good work, my friend," Odysseus nodded, with a smile on his face. "Now he can pay for what he did to my son, and for humiliating me."

Achilles' lips formed in a small 'O' as he realised what was going on. "Diomedes!" It was Palamedes' voice. "Diomedes, what's going on? Was that Odysseus?"

"Of course it's me, bastard," Odysseus stopped next to the well. "You disgraced me, in front of everyone. You almost had me kill my son all those years ago. And you think I've forgotten?"

"Diomedes! Stop him!"

"He's right, you know," The Argive king said. "You are a bastard."

"Menelaus and Agamemnon will find out! Someone will notice I'm gone!"

"Not if they don't find a body," Odysseus withdrew a knife from his side. "And I'll make sure they find the fake message from that Trojan soldier and the false payment the Trojans will give you for betraying them. They shall all believe Diomedes and I. And you won't be there to argue your case. Because dead men tell no tales, no matter what the stories may say." Achilles' eyes widened. He knew he should move, and that he should help, but Odysseus and Diomedes were right. Palamedes was sort of a dick. He stood, watching, as Odysseus placed the knife on the rope.

"I'll see you in Hades, King Palamedes." With that, he sliced through the knife and Palamedes fell to his death, with a strangled scream.

-X-

PERSEUS sat next to Selene at the ramparts. She had appeared out of the mist just a few seconds ago, after days of not hearing from her since she had saved his life, again. He didn't know why his heart jumped lightly at the sight of her, but he smiled, nonetheless. "I was starting to think I'd never see you again."

Her answering smile was hesitant, as she said, "So was I. But…we need to talk."

"We do," He nodded. "You saved my life. Thank you. Again."

"Not about that," She shook her head at him. Her eyes showed her confusion, as though she did not quite know how she had ended up there. "You know what I want to talk about."

His face burned gold at that, ichor rushing there, mind flashing back to what had happened all those weeks ago. It wasn't as though the peck had been anything bad…it was a friendly gesture. Or was it? Did he want it to mean something more? Bloody Hades, he didn't know."I'm sorry," He said automatically. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Be quiet," She rolled her eyes. "Let me talk."

His lips closed, and although he was silent, he motioned to her to go on. "I don't know why," Selene started, standing straighter. "But you intrigue me, Perseus. I can't explain it. You interest me, in a way no mortal has before, except perhaps my late husband." She pursed her lips. "I kept watching you from my chariot each night, which is why I was able to save you at Skyros."

Perseus couldn't hide his smile, and in an attempt to break the awkward atmosphere, said, "So you were stalking me."

She growled at him, "This is serious, Perseus."

He laughed at her expression. "Fine, fine. I know what you're trying to say. I would have been dead a long, long time ago had I not met you."

"Of course," She nodded, quite seriously. "I was stupid to rush away like I did after out talk. I apologise if I somehow offended you. You are a good mortal. A good friend. One of my very best. Again, I'm sorry for causing any confusion, and for staying away for as long as I did."

His eyes widened. He saw the message she was trying to convey. Gods he was daft. All this fuss and awkwardness over a simple peck on the cheek? Friends did it all the time, didn't they? He couldn't count the number of times he had pecked Creusa. He didn't know why he was overreacting, or why disappointment filled him when she called him one of his best friends. Finally, Perseus spoke up. "I should be apologising. What I did was uncalled for. It happened in the heat of the moment. My emotions were all over the place and I'm sorry it happened at all. It was just a kiss on the cheek. It meant nothing."

She blinked owlishly at him. "Right. I'm glad we're on the same page, then."

The son of Anchises smiled uneasily at her. His companion nodded to him, and began turning into dust. "I suppose I'll see you soon." He watched her go, and sighed to himself when she winked out of existence.

-X-

HECTOR was waiting for his wife at their bed. It was night time, and he had just left Perseus at the ramparts, and escorted Aeneas to his chambers. Creusa and Andromache had been seeing his mother, for some very important meeting, of which he had not been aware of, and after so long of being without his wife, he wasn't about to go to sleep without her. Not again.

He perked when he heard the doors being opened. Andromache walked in silently, and he rose from their bed to meet her with a hug and a kiss. "How was your meeting with Mother?"

"Quite…enlightening," She smiled at him. But there was something different about it. She looked overjoyed, and ecstatic about something. He could feel the happiness radiating off her.

"What happened?" He asked, holding her shoulders. He took her in, and smiled. She was honestly so beautiful.

She beamed at him. "Hector…I just found. I mean, I suspected, but…" She paused, and then said, "I'm…expecting."

The first thing that hit him was shock. And then joy, pure unfiltered euphoria filled him. He didn't realise he was hugging her tightly until she told him to let go. Happiness, mixed with surprise, and pride, and ecstasy filled his veins as he hugged his wife once more. And then he pulled away, eyes flickering to her belly. He smiled widely. He felt as though his grin would break his face into two.

"You're serious?" He finally managed.

"Of course I am," She laughed. "We're going to be parents."

He beamed. "I should tell Mother and Father about Scamandrius. I—"

Andromache reeled back from him, shaking his head, horror plastered on her face. "Never. Why would you want to name a child after a river?!" He turned to mock-glare at her, and her incensed expression faded as she laughed once more. "It could be a girl. And besides, your mother already knows."

"Then Scamandria," He threw his hands up, announcing it. "Please say yes." He turned to her, a smile still on his face.

She shook her head at his antics. "Fine, fine. If it's a boy, we'll name him Scamandrius," He jumped up in delight, whooping. "But," Andromache cut him off. "Everyone will just call him Astyanax, so it won't matter."

He boomed with laughter, and turned to her, gathering her up in his arms. "I love you. I love you so much."

"I know," She kissed his nose. "Believe me, I know."

-X-

AENEAS smiled to himself as Creusa made her way towards their bed. "Well," He came out from his hiding place. "You're late."

"Aeneas," She turned, huffing. "You scared me."

He laughed, moving to place his hands on her waist. "How was your day?"

"Quite ghastly," She placed her arms around his neck. "You?"

"The usual," He placed a kiss on her nose. "You know I can't go to bed without you."

"I'm sorry," She sighed. He could feel her, pressed up against him and he smiled, moving to plant a kiss on her mouth. She returned his kiss eagerly, and he licked her bottom lip. She let out a small moan and he took the chance, trailing his mouth down her neck, to that favourite spot of hers at the juncture of her throat and collarbone that always had her mewling. They pulled away for air, and he surged forward, re-capturing her lips and marauding the cavern of her mouth with his tongue. His entire being lit on fire as she scrabbled her hands against the fabric of his evening robes and ground her hips into him. He was in a haze of bliss with Creusa raking her nails against his scalp, tongues tangling deliciously. Her kisses became more softer and languid and he allowed her to take the lead.

They were so invested he didn't hear the door open before it was too late. "Father, mother, what are you doing?" They sprung apart quickly, a gasp coming from both of them. Aeneas jumped and whirred on his son, eyes wide. "Ascanius! What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," Their son's eyes were wide. "What were you doing?"

"It was nothing, honey," Creusa stood from the bed, and Aeneas blinked, wondering how she had gotten there. She flung the top part of her robes back on. Hades, when had he gotten it off? "You can come sleep with us."

Aeneas watched silently, a bit miffed that he had been denied a night of pleasure. But a smile formed on his face as his ten year old son crawled onto the bed, and into his mother's lap. "Come join us, Father!" He grinned at Ascanius, and moved onto the bed next to them. He prayed to the gods that nothing would ever separate his family. Not this war, not death…Nothing.

That night, he fell asleep soundly next to his wife, with his son nestled between them.

A/N: Alright, so this ARC is officially done with. Basically a few changes will happen in the next chapters. I've realised that I'm basically rewriting the original story with a different narrator. And I've also seen that Perseus knowing about the gods and the unearthly things happening has to give him some sort of incentive to try to change things. The whole reason the war happened was thanks to stupidity and ignorance, neither of which Perseus is. So, my point is, things will change. The underlying plot will be the same. Perseus won't be a little bitch anymore, bending to the will of the gods. And maybe the Trojans will come out on top this time. We'll see.