Fic: Achilles' Last Stand Ch. 3 (1/3) Edited Version
Title: Achilles’ Last Stand (Ch. 3 (1/3)) betaed version
Author: Mereneith
E-mail: Mereneith@yahoo.com
Pairing: Achilles/Paris
Warnings: bondage, slavery, male-male sex, violence, language. It will loosely follow the movie, but will be AU.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Achilles seeks out the reason for going to war, Paris.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don’t own Achilles, Paris or anyone else from Iliad/Troy verse. Homer, Wolfgang Petersen, and the guys that made Troy do.
Archive: No where, yet. But if you want to archive it, I’d be honored. Just let me know where its going.
Thanks: Thanks to Kris for betaing this for me. You did a wonderful job!
Author’s Notes: Title is a song by Led Zeppelin. Great song. If you haven’t heard it, go listen to it.
Chapter 3
Paris lay awake in his bed; next to him, Helen was asleep and snuggled against his chest. He loathed her presence, but was too troubled now to move her. His mind was in turmoil over the Greek warlord who continued to pursue him. Days before all he could think about was sinking his manhood into Helen’s soft, tight quim, but now - now his mind was continually preoccupied with thoughts of Achilles. The warrior’s golden mane; hard, muscular body; and his mind’s vivid imagination of what the warlord’s very large penis would look like. Paris thanked the gods that he had actually not yet seen the member; but with the size and strength of the Greek, he figured it would be quite large.
Paris had never had a sexual relationship with a male and all he knew about male love was rumors he had heard from some of his father’s soldiers. As the youngest Prince of Troy, he was not permitted to leave the palace unless accompanied by a large, heavily armed contingent of guards. Both his father and older brother were overly protective of Paris. They treated the young prince as though he were a delicate, fragile female. Paris hated their constant need to keep him safe. He knew that he was of a slighter, leaner build than most males, but he could shoot a bow well, and was improving his swordsmanship. He would never be as legendary a fighter as Hector, but he was able to defend himself. However, his father and brother could not see that or they simply chose to ignore it. Ever since reaching his majority three summers prior he had been adamant about not needing an escort of royal bodyguards to simply step outside the palace walls into the streets of Troy. He did not need an army of soldiers always protecting him. But, his father and brother both insisted he take numerous bodyguards with him.
Paris’ inner monologue froze as the sickening truth hit him hard. He was not able to defend himself. Twice Achilles had attacked him in his father’s own palace. Each time he had been easily overpowered and subdued. The Greek had taken what he wanted from the Trojan Prince and Paris had done nothing to stop him.
Priam’s youngest son sat up and quickly left his bed. He breathed a sigh of relief noting that Helen had not awakened. The prince did not think he could stand her nagging at this moment. Paris wrapped a cloth skirt around his waist and walked onto his balcony to breathe the crisp, fresh morning air. The sun had not risen yet, but the sky was grey with the coming dawn.
The young man leaned against the railing and watched soldiers patrol the top the city wall. He did not know how to prevent Achilles from getting to him. The warlord, despite the palace swarming with royal guards, had achieved access to both his father’s garden and his private bedchamber. Achilles’ freedom in such a heavily guarded complex made Paris no longer feel safe anywhere in his home.
The young man wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball on his bed, buried deep under the sheets, and weep for the unknown innocence he had lost and for the other untouched parts of him that he would lose if that monster won this war. Paris absentmindedly rubbed his raw wrists. The ropes Achilles had used had left marks on his fair skin. The burns were fading, but still stood out in stark contrast to Paris’ only lightly tanned skin. He had been careful to wear a long robe that covered the evidence of his attack, and so far no one, not even Helen, had noticed. The young Prince could only hope that the marks faded quickly before anyone discovered the damaged wrists, least of all his protective brother.
Paris leaned heavily on the railing and hung his head. He did not know what to do and he had no one that he could turn to. He would be humiliated if his brother and father found out. Paris could just see the look of disgust and disappointment on brave Hector’s face when he learned that his worst enemy, Achilles, had bedded his beloved little brother like a Greek whore or slave. It did not matter that he had not been mounted and penetrated yet. He had still enjoyed the warrior’s ministrations and he had been involved in many vile acts.
Paris’ thoughts were interrupted by a set of small hands sliding around his waist. “What troubles you, my love, that has pulled you from our bed?” The high-pitched, grating voice asked.
Turning around, Paris pulled Helen’s arms from him. She gave him a confused look as he extracted himself from her grasp and moved away.
“Helen, I just . . . I need my space from some time.” Paris began.
“Your space! Why do you need you space? Don’t you love me, Paris?” Helen again tried to wrap her arms around her beloved.
“Helen, I need some time alone.” Paris turned away and ran his fingers through his hair. “I will move you into the lavish guest apartments.”
“Is that all I am now!” Helen sobbed. “A guest! Yesterday, I was your lover.”
“No, Helen. You are not just a guest.” Paris tried to soothe the sobbing woman. “I love you and I want to be with you. It is this war. I need to focus all my energies on helping my brother, Hector, defeat the Greeks.”
“But, I can help you. . . I can give you support and see to your needs.” The ex-Spartan Queen sniffled as she stared teary-eyed at the youngest Prince of Troy. She was determined not to lose Paris’ love.
“No, Helen. It’s just not possible right now.” He quickly walked passed her and to the door of his chambers. Exiting his chambers, Paris began to wake all the servants that would be needed to remove Helen from his rooms and move her to her own chambers.
TBC