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19 June 2004 @ 05:28 am
FIC: 'Sparta', 4/(6?), R, various pairings  
Title: "Sparta"
Part: 4/(6?)
Author: Osiris Brackhaus
Pairings: Achilles/Hector, Agamemnon/Menelaos/Paris
Rating: R
Warning: AU, humor, romance, torture hinted, non-con hinted
Summary: Still the city of Sparta is besieged by the Trojans and their allies, still Prince Paris is held captive by King Menelaos and his brother. But though Achilles and Hector seem to have found a fragile, well, agreement, treason lurks among their rows, and soon, fates will bend and twist in ways unforeseen...
Site: Fafnir's Lair http://www.morningchilde.com
Credits: To Beryll, for coming up with the most epic plot bunnies while lying on my stomach and then tying them to my leg. To Mayetra, for beta.


On the road a few hours off Sparta

By now, the gleaming mid-day sun was a searing white spot in the pale sky, and both Hector and Achilles thanked the Gods for the olive tree besides the road that offered them shelter. Still on horseback, the two warriors gratefully accepted the crooked tree's deep shade as a most welcome resting place, and both of them silently watched the small trail of dust rising at the horizon.

This morning, a runner boy had brought the news that finally, Ajax had come to fight for his King at the gates of Sparta, and that he came with many men. And for once, King Priam and Penelope had almost immediately agreed that he must not arrive at his destination. For if the burly hero truly came with more than a thousand men, the Trojans would finally face odds so overwhelming their chances of victory would wither to as much as none.

So, Achilles had been sent to have a talk with his old friend Ajax, to see if he couldn't sway his mind like so many other minds had been swayed before in this campaign. But seeing the fabled Greek warrior ride off in a mission of diplomacy hadn't been the most astounding thing the men in the Trojan camp had witnessed this morning.

Far more heads had turned when Achilles had stopped in front of King Priam's tent, leisurely asking his son Hector to join him on the ride. And Hector had agreed with a calm satisfaction that had left the whole camp wondering as they rode off.

Well, some of us are still wondering, the blond Greek admitted to himself as he looked over his shoulder at the Trojan prince next to him. And I think I am one of them.

There was something about Hector that was different in Achilles’ eyes, and not only since that scene on the beach the evening before. The tall soldier was the first man Achilles had met who was honorable and spirited at the same time, pious and yet undaunted, strong and yet gentle. He was fearless and yet reluctant to fight.

He was all that I am not, Achilles mused to himself, and slowly I begin to wonder if he isn't the better one of us.

Smirking in the concealing shadows of his helmet, the Greek remembered Hector's commands on the beach last night, firm and quivering with anticipation at the same time. And the way they had made him obey with almost frighteningly little resistance.

"Now what are you looking at, great Achilles?", Hector asked good-humoredly, having well noticed the long glance his companion was giving him.


"And? Do you like what you see?" Grinning widely, the Trojan prince returned a line Achilles had given him the day before.

Still smirking, the blond Greek looked nonchalantly at the horizon again.

"You are wearing far too much...", he replied softly, noticing how Hector looked away either in irritation or to hide a blush with a certain satisfaction. This kind of sparring was far more after his liking. Definitely.

"You're the pretty one of the two of us", the Trojan Prince retorted after just a little hesitation. "So it's more the question of why you're as wrapped up as I am to me."

"I am not - ", Achilles snapped but managed to reign himself in just in time. Looking at Hector, he saw the dark-curled Prince grin at him with a single canine bared, well knowing he had caught the Greek off-guard. This blasted snotty prince had the audacity to laugh at him without even laughing, Achilles fumed silently.

"I'm no pretty boy who'd dress skimpily to please you", he growled finally.

"No?" Hector actually managed to sound genuinely disappointed. "What a pity."

Again, Achilles fought down the pout that apparently had stayed with him since he was a little boy. Turning his chin snugly in the air, he pretended to serenely watch the approaching army.

It irked him to no end that the Trojan apparently had so little difficulties in outmaneuvering him, at least verbally. And that without giving him any reason to turn furious on him, which with all other people already would have ended in a bloody disaster. Actually, he had come to like Hector's company, which was probably the most amazing part of the whole affair.

A little breeze came up from the valley, bringing with it the scent of figs and rosemary and the faint sounds of bleating sheep. And here in the shadow of the ancient olive tree, the day felt just like a very nice one, not so much unlike the few carefree days Achilles had spent every now and then in Larissa.
His adoring cousin all but forgotten, the blond warrior wondered how it would be if he took Hector with him for a few days to Larissa when all this was over.

It was a nice thought, Achilles realized. A surprisingly nice thought. A frighteningly nice thought considering the fact that he still couldn't stand the snotty prince who was acting so aloof.

But suddenly there was that telltale itch in the Greek's neck, warning him that he was being stared at. And turning around, he found Prince Hector staring at him - but with a fond, calm smile so irritating Achilles all but flinched away from it.

"What about we take a bath again together once we're back in the camp?", the Trojan Prince asked softly before the blond warrior could react. There was no guile, no indecent proposal in Hector's question, and yet his deep voice made Achilles shiver despite the oppressive heat.

At first, he hesitated to answer, searching for a reply that wouldn't offer a golden bridge for one of Hector's impossible remarks, but it was just stronger than himself.

"Yes." Now that was an answer so witless, so uninspired and flat Achilles could have slapped himself. Not to lose face, he added rather quickly: "I really could use someone to scrub my back."

Hector in turn only nodded with his eyes still on the horizon, sighing, and said:

"Yes. Me too. You think we could find somebody decorative for the job?"

Turning around at Achilles, he grinned widely, biting just the tiniest tip of his tongue between his shining teeth. And instantly, the Greek felt as if there was nothing left to do in the world but to beat this cocky shit of a Prince into bloody pulp. Reigning in his horse, his jaws clenched with fury, Achilles closed the distance between them to deliver a fitting punch or punch line, he wasn't too sure which one it would be.

But Hector only dimmed his grin to a soft smile, nodding with his head in the vague direction of the road.

"Not now", he said calmly. "Your appointment has arrived."

Looking up, Achilles saw the first riders of the approaching army come around the last bend in the road. Torn between his seething anger and the need to act swiftly before someone decided they were the first little hors d'oevre of Trojans to be killed, the blond warrior stared alternately at Hector and the arriving soldiers.

Finally, he decided he could teach the snotty prince a lesson any time, Achilles turned around his horse and left for Ajax' approaching men, yet not without giving Hector a last, withering glare.

"And don't forget to keep smiling!", he heard the voice of the Trojan calling behind him, for a split second creating the deep conviction in Achilles that the lesson was direly needed and it was needed right now.

But right then, a huge figure on an equally massive horse came around the bend, instantly recognizing the blond warrior on the road ahead of him.

"Achilles!", Ajax yelled gleefully, "My friend!"

Spurring up his horse, the bear-like warrior sped past his men, arriving at Achilles' side mere seconds later.

"It is so good to see you here, Achilles", Ajax exclaimed as they clasped their hands. "It will be so good to fight side by side with you again."

There was such eagerness in the other warrior's voice that the Greek's anger disappeared like mist in the mid-day sun, and he answered his friend's greeting with a deep if non-commitive smile.

"My men told stories about you siding with those mad Trojans. I'm so relieved to see you - "

"Ajax", Achilles interrupted his friend, gesturing him to calm down a little. "Ajax. I AM fighting for the Trojans."

For a long moment, the huge warrior only blinked wordlessly. Then, finally, he nodded somberly, saying:

"So it's me against you on the battlefield, this time."

"Yes, so it seems."

"It'll be a great honor to match against you."

"And I swear I will kill you with all the honor you deserve."

Achilles' last sentence had been spoken without spite, and it didn't fail to show results with Ajax.

"Yeah", the huge warrior mumbled, his own attempt at encouragement unable to revitalize his smothered enthusiasm. "By the Gods, that will be a fight they will sing of for a hundred years."

"Indeed, your death would be the birth of a legend." Achilles nodded gravely, adding: "That is, of course, if you insist on fighting against me."

Wary curiosity sparking in Ajax’s face, the warrior looked up.

"Listen, Ajax, we both have fought for Agamemnon often enough", the blond Greek continued with urgency in his voice. "Probably more often than we would have liked, and definitely more often than he deserved."

Still Ajax remained wary, well aware of where this was leading to.

"There's no more reason for you to fight for this greedy King than the fear of what he would do to your men and your father's country if you didn't." Taking a pause, Achilles looked up at the sky before he went on: "But you shouldn't forget that there is only danger of retribution if he lives to exact it."

Now the first trace of a grin appeared in the corners of Ajax’s mouth.

"Now you're reaching above yourself, great Achilles. I know you and your men can take on half a merely mortal army, but still that would leave you outnumbered. You have no chance."

"If things were as you see them, you would be right." Grinning widely at the now truly intrigued warrior, Achilles explained: "Wouldn't do if we'd show our advantages out in the open, few as they are, would it? Did you know Ithaca has sided with Troy?"

"But - I was told Odysseus is in Sparta."

"Oh, he is. But I didn't say Odysseus."

Giving the blond warrior a hard-thinking, slightly slack-jawed frown, Ajax tried to figure out what that last remark implied. Laughing out loud, Achilles gestured him not to try too hard.

"Ajax, I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't been there while it happened. Now our chances of victory are slim, but together with you and your men, they would grow. We'd only be outnumbered one by two, then."

Now laughing himself, Ajax nodded.

"You are either mad or blessed by the Gods, Achilles, but I am beginning to believe you. Maybe the time of Agamemnon has come to an end, after all."

"You see that man behind me, under the huge olive tree?", Achilles asked. "That is Hector, the Prince of Troy. He wants to make you an offer."

Slowly, Ajax nodded.

"I will have to talk to my men, and then we will negotiate."

"It will be so good to fight side by side with you again", the blond warrior remarked with a grin before Ajax turned his horse around and rode over to the soldiers that had begun clustering to the few shaded places around.

Still smiling, and feeling rather accomplished, Achilles rode back himself, bringing his horse alongside with Hector's.

"And?", the Trojan prince asked curiously.

"He'll negotiate."

"I'm impressed."

As Achilles didn't reply anything for a long moment, the dark-curled prince added:

"I didn't know you could talk in sentences that long."

Abruptly turning around his head, giving Hector a fuming stare, Achilles once again wondered how this impossible person managed to bring him on the edge every single time.

"Oh now don't stare at me like this," the prince continued without mocking. "That was a compliment, in case you haven't noticed."

"Your compliments have the annoying tendency to sound like insults, Prince of Troy. Better watch out, or you'll lose your head."

Still smiling, Hector cast down his eyes, then looked up, asking in a softer voice:

"But if I agree to scrub your back, will you then spare me?"

"Right now", Achilles replied with a growl that sounded surprisingly companionable, "I'd rather stab you."

"All right. So...", Hector began with a pondering gesture and a smirk that became increasingly indecent, "So what about if you impale me?"

Again staring at the Trojan Prince in a mixture of fury and disbelief, it took Achilles a moment to gather what his companion had really suggested. Then, even the fabled warrior couldn't help but burst into laughter, so loud his horse nervously started shuffling its feet.

"Agreed, Prince of Troy, under these circumstances, I'll spare you."

Now laughing softly himself again, Hector nodded, saying:

"I'll honor my word. And you really did well with Ajax."

"Thank you." Somewhat stumbling across the rather unfamiliar words, Achilles smiled. It was nice to hear Hector say something plain and unmistakably positive about him. "Probably, this is my mother's heritage finally coming to bear."

Realizing how fond he had grown of the Greek's company, the prince of Troy nodded silently. Truly, Hector thought to himself, this war is bringing out whole new sides in all of us. How will I ever explain this to Andromache?


Sparta, Hall of King Menelaos

Even though it was only late afternoon, the hall of King Menelaos seemed to be a dimly lit place. Over the years, the paintings on the walls had acquired a gray tint that made them look like images of ghosts. The wooden furniture seemed more somber than solid, and even sunlight coming in through the few windows seemed to be wary to tread around this place.

The only spot of bright color seemed to be King Agamemnon, sitting on his brother's throne, clad in billowing robes of scintillating colors. Like always, there were rings of gold on his fingers enough to make four or five decent dowries.

To Odysseus, he looked like an old bird dressing up for one last mating season's effort. But of course, he'd never say so aloud. Instead, he said:

"My King, if Ajax has truly defected to the Trojans, we would waste our men if we go outside and attacked them. Their alliance is still fresh, and without our walls, we'd lose many men on both sides. Even if we won the war afterwards, that would be more than an invitation for the northern tribes to - "

"Yes, yes, yes." Deeply annoyed, Agamemnon wiggled around with his ceremonial horsetail flail. "Thank you, Odysseus, for stating the obvious." Since the news had come that Ajax and his men had walked right to the Trojans and set up camp among them, to call the King's mood miserable would have been flattery beyond recognition.

Of course, allowing the Trojans any more time to give people the idea that there was a realistic chance of getting rid of their little loved King of Kings was the worst they could do. But cozily snuggled into his own self-importance, Agamemnon just didn't want to see it, and to Odysseus, this was right perfect. After all, he was now working for the Trojans, wasn't he?

If all this was over and they all still lived, he would have to have a few strong words with his wife. Did she even know what she was doing to him?

"Hwrrrrarrrrr!", Agamemnon suddenly growled and stood up from his brother's throne. Pointing his flail at Odysseus, who was the only other person in the room, he yelled loud enough to make it sound like he was addressing his armies: "This senile old Priam is stealing my allies! How can he dare? And what did he offer Ajax to make him defect? I thought that brute wasn't smart enough to be bribed!"

Yep, that's right what you did, Odysseus thought while trying to keep an appropriately demure face. And maybe right that was your mistake.

"How is this treason possible?" Agamemnon continued his almost accusing speech. "If I didn't see you right in front of me, I'd say it was your hand I see in all of this, Odysseus."

Suddenly, it was very hard for the King of Ithaca to keep up appearances. So bowing deeply to hide his face, hoping he wasn't stretching things too far, he said:

"But you know I would never betray you, my King."

"Pha!" Agamemnon snorted derisively, and stepped down from the throne to walk across the room, heading for a window. "You would, Odysseus, if you'd see any gain in that. But you're also too smart not to know that I would crush you and your merry little city like grapes if you'd ever dare to cross me." Turning around to stare at the still bowing King of Ithaca, he added caustically: "You and your spineless politics make me want to retch, but you are a precious resource and as long as I know I am the strongest option, I also know you won't be the dagger in my back, coward that you are."

"My King is most wise..." Slowly, Odysseus felt his patience wane. He knew Agamemnon was just lashing out at everybody there was, but this was getting too much. He really didn't know how long he would be able to remain calm before he snapped and either turned aggressive or truthful, both being rather devastation options.

But, by whatever godly intervention, he was saved from another verbal discharge by the King's brother Menelaos storming into the hall, his rounded face glowing with excitement.

"Brother, Odysseus!"

Still bowing, Odysseus could see how Menelaos' energetic stride made a small stripe of white belly blink out from under his armor with each step. This image, together with what he had learned from Prince Paris, made him shudder in disgust.

"Agamemnon, you won't believe who the Gods have sent to our assistance!", Menelaos exclaimed as he stopped close to his brother.

"Are you drunk?", the King of Kings snapped back, looking as if he was about to slap Menelaos just for good measure.

But the acidic remark for once failed to smother the Spartan King's splendid mood. Instead, he turned around and pointed at the two young men who had appeared in the doorframe of the hall.

"My brother, Odysseus, may I introduce you to our brothers-in-law!"

The following, rapid change of expression running across Agamemnon's face couldn't have been more impressive if he had been swapping masks. His brooding, grimly misanthrope self was immediately replaced by calculating curiosity, only to be forcefully hammered into welcoming cordiality as the result of the calculation was apparently favorable. Odysseus could have laughed out loud if all this hadn't been so madly dangerous.

"Castor! Pollux!", the King of Kings exclaimed with his arms wide open, sounding impressively genuine. "Welcome to Sparta!."

So these were the fabled twin brothers of Queen Helen, Odysseus thought with intrigue. Now who'd have expected that?

The young men walked into the hall, each of them greeting Agamemnon with proper, if somewhat cold deference. Both had their sword on their back and their shield by their side, and carried themselves with a slight arrogance. They were not warriors, Odysseus noted the moment he realized how the twins checked out the hall while pretending to greet their King. These were killers.

Both Castor and Pollux were surprisingly tall, their straight brown hair falling down to below their waists even adding to the impression. Long-limbed, deeply tanned and oiled, they were clad in light armor of brown leather, and the assertiveness they exuded would have stunned everyone who had met their sister first.

"King Agamemnon", one of them said finally, "we have come to Sparta to ensure our beloved sister's safety."

"Of course, of course!", hugging both of them once more with all cheer his shriveled heart could come up with, adding: "You and your men are always welcome to defend my brother's city."

"Which men?", the one twin who had spoke first replied calmly, with the other one explaining:

"I think two warriors of our standing will be more than sufficient to protect a single women. Or are there problems we don't know of?"

Agamemnon's newfound enthusiasm died with an almost audible grind.

"No men." His smile fought bravely to stay on his lips, and with only a little wavering, managed that truly Herculean task. "But you make up for quite some numbers already, so I won't mind. After all, we're all family, aren't we?"

Both twins cocked a questioning eyebrow in such perfect unison that Odysseus almost gasped at the impeccable performance.

"You sound worried", the first twin stated curiously, with the second one adding:

"Does the King of Kings suddenly face an enemy he isn't sure he can defeat? If things look so badly for Sparta, we'll just take our sister home until the situation here is... cleaned up."

Now finally, the last remnants of King Agamemnon's smile were crushed by rage so fierce the aging King shook visibly.

"Watch your words, you insolent boys!", he hissed at them without causing any apparent effect. "Maybe you're the brothers of Klytaimnestra and Helen, but you're still far from sacrosanct. As long as you're here, you'll fight for me, or I'll wrap your entrails around the city's walls with my own hands." Giving the twins another withering stare, he asked: "Any questions?"

"Your anger is misplaced, my King", the second twin replied glibly and apparently utterly untouched by Agamemnon's threat. "Our loyalty has always been with our sisters' husbands."

Grinning painfully at the mention of his wife as if he had been reminded of an aching tooth, Agamemnon nodded vaguely appeased.

"Sure you do, you rodents."

Looking at the assembled men around him with a silent snarl on his lips, the King of Mycenae shook his head, then walked back to his brother's throne and sat down with a sigh.

"And about this annoying little war, my 'friends'", Agamemnon told them with a voice dripping with sarcasm, "probably I won't need any of you to fight for me."

Filling the dramatic pause with a mean little grin of his own, the King of Kings finally said:

"As it seems, the Trojans are doing your job better than you yourself." Still grinning, Agamemnon announced full of glee at the stunned faces around him: "There is a traitor in the heart of the Trojan camp, and he'll deliver them a killing blow this very night. Come tomorrow dawn, this all will be as good as over."


Trojan camp, tent of Achilles

Waking from a night of surprisingly pleasant dreams, Achilles decided that it was early enough to doze a little more.

The last night had, despite the promises of a certain Trojan Prince, not included any bathing or back scrubbing. For despite his eagerness to listen to the Trojans' suggestions, Ajax had been surprisingly hard to convince. So, it had been rather late already when King Priam and the huge warrior had clasped their hands to seal their treaty, and both Hector and Achilles had agreed that they would rather have a whole evening for themselves.

They had joined the celebrations then, and gone to bed in their own tents each. But they had agreed upon another meeting at that beach a little off come dusk, and the blond Greek was immensely looking forward to that. To have that strapping Trojan underneath him, writhing in helpless pleasure was a thought sweet enough to be intoxicating.

Today would be wonderful day, Achilles decided, lazily rolling to his other side. And only the first of many more to come.

Slowly, there were more and more voices to be heard outside, and the warrior decided that it was time to get up and see what his men were up to today. Maybe, Achilles thought fondly, he would see if he could find a nice blanket and some wine for tonight. Wouldn't do if they got sandy in all the inappropriate places on the beach.

Still smiling at the glorious prospects of the day, the Greek stepped out of his tent and immediately froze.

His smile vanishing like water poured on sand, he stared at his Myrmidons, which in turn stared right back at him like at an apparition.

"What is going on here?", he asked, a barely veiled threat in his voice.

The Myrmidons were all wearing their armor, and they looked as if returning from some mission outside the tent. And Achilles could have sworn he had never ordered any such assignment.

"What have you done?", he bellowed, kicking in the vague direction of the first Myrmidon standing close by. "What have you done?!"

From somewhere to his left, suddenly Eodorus appeared, falling to his knees in front of Achilles.

"Master", the captain of the Myrmidons exclaimed with stunned dread in his voice. "Master, I do not understand this. I... We thought we had left you in Sparta..."

"Sparta?" Slowly, there was that horrible feeling of cold dread creeping up Achilles spine, and he hated it with a passion. "Tell me Eodorus, who has ordered this?"

"I - We thought it had been you."

Fuming, the blond Greek grabbed his captain's throat, filled with the immense urge to stab somebody.

"I have never ordered you to go to Sparta!"

"But, Master, he looked like you, Master!" Choking, Eodorus tried to continue: "He moved like... - your armor... - Hector..."

"Prince Hector?!" As if the dread had finally reached his heart, Achilles let go of the coughing Myrmidon. "What have you done to Prince Hector, Eodorus?"

"We... We brought him to Sparta... You went into his tent and then carried him out. We thought... We thought you finally wanted to go back to side with Agamemnon."

Fighting down tears of rage, Achilles was dreadfully sure of what had happened. There was only one mortal he could think of who could pass for himself. Only one.

"Oh Master", Eodorus whispered, still on his knees. "What have we done....?"

"Patroclus", it burst out of Achilles as he could no longer contain his fury at this unthinkable betrayal. "PATROCLUS!!!"


Trojan camp, tent of King Priam.

Kneeling on the ground in front of a golden sculpture of Apollo, King Priam prayed, his eyes wide with grief, his voice broken.

"It is the will of the Gods", the old man whispered. "The Gods despise men daring to shape their own destiny, and for wanting to rescue my one son, they have taken my firstborn!"

"I will kill him." Prowling across the wooden floor like a caged lion, Achilles almost shook with rage. "I will rip out his eyes and cut off his ears, and deaf and blind he'll walk through the underworld, so all the dead will know: There's the boy who dared to betray Achilles!"

"We should never have come here", Priam lamented at his altar, "We were so blind to out own hubris."

"Boys!" Cutting sharply through the palpable tension in the room, Penelope's voice was ringing with command. "Could the two of you please stop fretting for a second and let me THINK?"

In his cradle in the corner, little Telemachos started crying desperately.

"See what you have done?" Still frowning at the two men, the Queen of Ithaca walked over to her infant son and took him into her arms, gently calming the little boy.

"What is there to think, woman?", Achilles growled at his friend's wife. "Patroclus betrayed me, my own cousin, and I will kill him for this."

"And then?", Penelope snapped. "Then what? Then he's dead. And Hector will still be locked up in some prison cell, if Agamemnon hasn't already cut his throat."

"I don't care. Once this snake is dead, I will - "

"Don't lie to me, Achilles!" Now seriously angry herself, Penelope took Telemachos on her other arm, adding: "If you didn't care, then what is all this fuss about? Do you really think we're all blind? Maybe you can lie to yourself about this, but don't you lie to me!"

"I have no idea what you are talking of, woman." His face an impassive mask, Achilles stepped out of the tent. "I will kill him."

"No, Achilles, wait! Achilles!", Penelope shouted after him, but the Greek warrior refused to listen.

On her arm, Telemachos started crying again. For the first time, she felt as if maybe having dared too much after all.

"Shhh, Telemachos, don't cry."

"All is lost", King Priam whispered fatalistically. "We're doomed."

A single tear running down her cheek, Penelope shook her head despite the fear in her heart.

"Don't worry, my son", she whispered to the child in her arms, trying a brave smile despite the tears running down her face freely by now. "Don't worry. It'll all be well, Mommy promises. It'll all be well."


End of Chapter 4
Current Mood: nervous
Christinafly_meaway on June 19th, 2004 06:58 am (UTC)
I was really happy to see a new chapter to this story. And it was well worth it. I think you're doing a great job writing this. You're pulling me into the story. And for some reason I feel addicted and I want to read more!!!
cocainemusic on June 19th, 2004 03:03 pm (UTC)
Another Installment, I got suckered into hearting this chapter by the mention of the Dioscuri (way to dabble in Greek Myth!) And I KNEW Patroclus was dodgy. Also you get a cookie for creative improvising, (manipulating Film-verse to fit into the story)
Nyaartemicion on June 20th, 2004 08:33 am (UTC)
Grrrr.....that Patroclus...please tell me there will be a slow, painful death scene in store for him. I want to see him suffer. Great chapter. I like how you threw in the 'will of the gods' nonsense that Priam so enjoyed making a point of in the movie. Onward! More!!!
trojanfightclubtrojanfightclub on June 21st, 2004 09:56 am (UTC)
"Now what are you looking at, great Achilles?", Hector asked good-humoredly, having well noticed the long glance his companion was giving him.


Why is this so sweet? I love how they talked...like lovers ^^ Made me *grin*

"I didn't know you could talk in sentences that long."

Smug!Hector. Teasing!Hector. And how you ended it with him being captured. Don't they realize it's getting more than a fling? ;)

*happy sigh*

osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on June 22nd, 2004 10:44 pm (UTC)
Thanks to all of you for your kind comments. CH5 might take a bit longer than usual, as my wife and I are currently moving, my RL work is just chaotic and I feel a little bit wrung out.
But never mind, the muses are apparently very fond of me for the moment being, so CH5 is already half done and you'll get more of mean Patty, smart Penny and slightly senile Priam around the weekend, I think.
Thanks so much again,
(Anonymous) on December 15th, 2016 12:31 pm (UTC)
Awesome fic
Yes, yes, yes, sorry, but an Illiad fic?, you don't know how happy you are making me with this. and the style was so good too, I am surprised, the characters have their personalities well defined and you stay true to their core, I really want to read more of this, like you made my week. And adding the Dioscuri? awesome, such and Euripides move there, but I love it (are they possing as mortals? because by the time of the war of troy they were already "dead", right?....or this is changed here?)
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on December 15th, 2016 12:47 pm (UTC)
Re: Awesome fic
So happy you liked my story! I can't believe it's twelve years old by now...

About the Dioscuri - we just love them so much, when we saw the opportunity to have them appear in this story, we just jumped at it.

I am still considering re-working this entire thing an bringing it out as a proper book, it would be such a cool project. But looking at our publishing queue, it'll be two years from now earliest we would bring out 'Sparta'. Or maybe I'll call it 'The Laconiad' or something...

Thanks so much for commenting, you really made my day!