Title: Achilles Heel
Author: Pinigir
Fandom: Norse & Greek Mythology
Characters/Pairing: Loki, mentions of Balder, Hod, Apollo, Achilles and Paris. Brief mention of Loki/Apollo.
Rating: PG?
Warnings: Mention of two character deaths (murder). Vague hint at slash. Very mild swearing. The characters aren’t exactly portrayed as nice people.
Spoilers: The Iliad and Edda.
Summary: Loki remembers how he got a certain idea.
Disclaimer: The characters are all public property. This particular story is mine.
Notes: This isn’t betaed, so there might be some mistakes left. If you see anything, tell me, and I’ll try to correct it.
Achilles Heel
Loki was very happy with himself. His plan had worked. Quite well, if he said so himself. And as far as he could tell, he wasn’t going to be the one to be blamed for this. It would be that stupid blind Hod. Well, technically, Hod was the one who had done it. That had been so perfect about this plan.
Loki had gotten his idea from some Greek bloke. Or bloke? The guy had been more effeminate than a lot of the women he knew. Anyway, he had met this guy (what was his name again? Something like Paul, Napoleon, Apollo... Apollo, that was it!) and they had had a few drinks together.
Apollo had talked about things he had done. It had seemed that he was pouring out his whole life story. Boy, that man had sure liked the sound of his own voice. Okay, it had been a nice voice, but even Loki didn’t think he himself was that vain. And he was aware that he was. Very much so. But, apparently, this guy was even worse.
Loki had feigned interest, although it had been other qualities in this guy that he had been more interested in. Loki had listened with half an ear, until he had heard something that had actually been interesting. It had been something that could help him solve his own problems. Right then, he had started to really pay attention.
There had been some war going on, somewhere in a Greek city. Or hadn’t it been somewhere in Turkey? He got confused. It didn’t really matter. The thing was, the enemy side had had a hero who had been practically invulnerable. No matter what they had tried, no one had been able to kill him. And in the mean time, this hero had killed a lot of the good guys. But, Apollo, being a god and all, had known how he could kill the hero.
The hero’s mother had been some sea nymph or something and had made him invulnerable by dipping him into a river, when he was still a baby. It had worked beautifully, but she hadn’t thought of the fact that the little guy’s heel, where she had been holding him, had not been touched by the water. This part of the boy’s body would still be vulnerable. In short: the hero had had an Achilles heel. (Wait, wasn’t Achilles the name of the hero? Yes, it was. Hm, now he knew where that expression came from.) So, Apollo had known that this Achilles could only be killed if someone would be able to get to his heel.
The only problem had been that the gods hadn’t been able to interfere with the war directly; they had only been allowed to influence the people in it. Apollo had had to find some human who could do the work for him. Luckily, he had soon found the perfect candidate: a young prince by the name of Paris. The prince hadn’t been the best of warriors, but it hadn’t mattered. This was where Apollo could help. When he had seen the chance, he had guided the hands of the prince to aim at the right spot: Achilles’s heel. With Apollo being an excellent marksman, and a god, the aim had been true and the inconquerable hero had been struck dead. But, technically, it had been the weak warrior prince Paris who had killed the hero.
Then, Apollo had gone on, that despite this, his side had still lost the war. Something with a giant horse and a little weasel of a man coming up with the most cunning plans. Loki hadn’t been listening that closely anymore: he had heard what he had wanted to hear.
After the guy had finally been done talking, they had gone up to his room and had a totally different kind of intercourse, which had been fantastic. Loki could say that that particular day was high up on his list of favourites.
How did Apollo’s story pertain to Loki’s situation? It went like this:
Loki had hated the shining god Balder for all sorts of reasons. All the other gods had seemed to think that Balder was the best thing since sliced bread. No attention had been given anymore to him: Loki. They had even claimed that Balder was the most beautiful of gods. Loki had been so before that. That would not do.
Loki had plotted all sorts of ways to kill the wonderboy, but nothing had seemed to work. Whatever he had done, Balder had always survived. Apparently, all creatures and things had taken an oath not to harm the god. Balder had been practically unkillable. He had even let the other gods try to use any conceivable weapon against him, just to show how none of it did him any harm.
After lots and lots of research, Loki had found out that there was one thing that could kill the shining god: mistletoe, that innocent little plant. So, he had known how he could kill the ever annoying Balder. He had only needed to find a way to go about it. He hadn’t wished it to be known that he was the killer. This had been where Apollo’s story had helped him. He could kill Balder with a bit of mistletoe, by guiding someone else into doing it. He had found a perfect victim for it: Hod. The god in question was blind, so he wouldn’t see what he was doing. Also, the others would, without second thought, let him take a swing at Balder, thinking Hod wouldn’t be able to hit the target. How wrong they would be. Hod might not be able to aim, but Loki had perfect aim. And he would be “helping” Hod to aim right.
He had done it! It had worked! Balder had fallen dead at the spot, just as soon as the innocent piece of mistletoe had hit him. And everybody had seen Hod do it. Hod was the killer of the Shining God. Oh, how marvelous it had been! No way they could put the blame on him!
Now, Loki was drinking to celebrate. He would bring a toast to Apollo, the Greek bloke who had given him this wonderful idea. The guy might have been a total twat, but Loki owed his victory to him. He was man enough to admit that.
That was it. Tell me what you think!