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18 July 2004 @ 09:26 am
FIC: Sparta, Part 5/(6?)  
Title: "Sparta"
Part: 5/(6?)
Author: Osiris Brackhaus
Pairings: Castor/Pollux/Patroclus, Agamemnon/Menelaos/Paris/Hector
Rating: R
Warning: AU, humor, romance, torture hinted, non-con hinted
Summary: Jealous and rejected, Patroclus has betrayed the Trojans, and now both Trojan Princes are captive of the Greeks. Despite the warnings of Penelope and King Priam, Achilles sets out to revenge this betrayal, and suddenly the outcome of the whole war is at stake....
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 swift and reliable beta.


Sparta, Palace of King Menelaos, guest quarters.

The pale light of early morning crept across the city of Sparta, chasing away the last chilly shadows of the night. Bringing with it the promise of another searing hot day, the dawn woke those who hadn't already risen at the first gray sheen at the horizon.

Only one room of the palace's guest quarters seemed to be resistant to the sunlight's invigorating effects. Despite the scintillating patches of fresh light dancing across the room, there was no movement in the tangle of limbs sprawled across the huge bed, and despite the multitude of pillows and blankets, it seemed there was more silken skin on the bed than there was bed.

Even the most observant would have needed more than one glance to sort out how many people were sleeping there, so closely they were entwined. Long, slender limbs were strewn across the bed, some a pale gold, some others oiled and so deeply tanned they looked like aged-in bronze. Cascades of luscious hair covered the pillows, a deep brown the color of the darkest honey, with a cluster of golden waves in their midst like a cherished treasure.

If it hadn't been for the calm rise and fall of their chests and the occasional hand snuggling around someone else's body, one could have believed there was no life in any of them. But the increasing sounds of life from the city below disturbed their sleep more and more, and when finally, the whole place seemed to reverberate with a clamor from beyond the city's gates, the first of the sleepers stretched like a dozing cat and rose to his elbows.

Castor's usually rather agile mind was still clogged with sleep, and blinking, he took his time to get the dark curtain of his hair out of his face. Taking in the sight around him, he smiled widely, licking his lips as if remembering some rather delicious treat.

Suddenly, there was that clamor again, and the distinct, almost frightened silence of the city made the twin listen up. Something was happening out there. Something important.

Not caring to dress, Castor rose from the cluttered bed and walked onto the room's wide balcony, listening to the cool morning's air, his hair flowing freely behind him.


Pollux' voice from the bed was soft, but Castor had no doubt his brother had noted the oddness of the moment.

"I'm not sure." Walking back into the room, the slender Greek crawled onto the bed, leaning over the third man lying there in blissful slumber.

Kissing the blond man, softly and yet full of demanding passion, Castor woke their mutual guest. Who, in turn, didn't waste one moment, sneaking his arms around the twin's neck before even opening his eyes, kissing the warrior back with matching languid desire.

"Good morning, beautiful", the long-haired twin greeted the other man when they finally separated. "Have you slept well?"

Nodding with a deep, satisfied smile, the young man stretched his long limbs, presenting his well-trained body to best advantage.

"I know I should have asked you that already last night, beauty", Castor continued while trailing down his fingernails along the man's chest that already bore a rather impressive array of similar marks. "But tell me, handsome, what is your name?"

"My name is Patroclus", the blond youngster replied, opening his deep blue eyes for the first time for an insecure blink. "Why?"

Castor smirked, and this time, there was nothing kind or sympathetic in his smile.

"Because there's someone at the gates, beautiful, yelling your name. And he sounds as if he's out for blood."

Instantly, the splendid mood in Patroclus' feature vanished, leaving nothing but grim determination.


Exchanging a deep glance probably no one else could have understood, the twins looked at each other, then back at the young Greek between them.

"Then you shouldn't let him wait any longer, dear", Castor stated calmly, and with an almost feral smile, his brother added from the other side:

"Go, handsome, make us proud."


Sparta, royal balcony on the city walls


Achilles' yell shook the walls like the voice of a Titan, and even King Agamemnon on his secure balcony couldn't help but raise an impressed eyebrow.

"My, he's furious", Menelaos stated vaguely awed. "Who'd have thought he'd take it that personal?"

"Yes. Who'd have thought." Turning around to a Spartan soldier who was standing close by, Agamemnon ordered: "Go, have the archers man the walls around the gate. Send me a word when they are ready."

"You want to shoot him down?", his brother asked, irritation clear in his voice.

"Of course I will." Shaking his head at this overly obvious display of lacking ambition, the King of Kings added: "We'll never get a better shot at him. Even if he's not entirely mortal, he won't be able to dodge all arrows, so there's a good chance he'll die within the next hour."


"If he doesn't die of a stroke first, that is", he concluded.

Waving a servant to fill up his goblet with cooled wine, Agamemnon watched the lone figure in front of the gate with intrigue, musing aloud: "It must be blistering hot down there in the plain sun by now..."

"Hmmm, yes...." Nodding absent-mindedly, Menelaos looked down at Achilles as well, then glanced around the balcony until he found King Odysseus silently standing in another corner.

"What do you think, Odysseus", the King of Sparta asked, "why is he so mad?"

"That is a good question, Menelaos." Inside his head, the thoughts were racing, trying to find a way out of this disaster slowly unfolding right in front of his eyes. "There seems to have been more to Achilles’ attachment to the Trojans than mere boredom."

"Of course there was more to it", Agamemnon snarled. "He hated my guts, and he wanted to see me broken."

Looking down on the lone warrior again, he added:

"But now it'll be me who'll see him skewered, and the Trojans will finally be done for and as good as forgotten."


Looking right at Odysseus, the King of Kings continued with cold hatred in his face:

"I will rout them out until there is not a single man or woman left alive in their cursed camp, and I will use their ships to take me and my soldiers to Troy. I will burn that godforsaken city to the ground that never again in - "

"My King!" Falling onto his knees next to Agamemnon, a soldier interrupted the Greek's tirade. "My King, your archers are in position."

Finally, something like a smile crept into the aging King's face.

"Wonderful", he said, "perfect."

And looking down at Achilles at the gates once more, he ordered:

"Shoot him!"


All men on the balcony turned towards the entrance, all of them equally stunned to hear somebody dare to talk against the King of Kings. Stepping onto the balcony while fastening his bracers to his arms, Patroclus shook a lock of hair out of his face.

"My King", the young warrior said firmly, "with all due respect, this is not between you and Achilles."


Raising a cautiously curious eyebrow, Agamemnon replied coldly:

"I have gathered that much."

"This is a fight between two men, is a fight between him and me."

Still rather wary about the whole thing, Agamemnon gestured Patroclus to continue.

"He has come for me, and I am willing to take on his challenge. My lord, I ask your permission to fight him, and to fight in your name."

"And what, dear Patroclus, makes you believe you will survive such an adventure? I'll need you at my side, as my living champion, and not dead as a hero."

"My King, among all mortals, there is only me who can best him. I am the one he has trained, I know him like no other."

Still not fully losing his innate distrust, the King of Mycenae nodded gravely.

"And besides all that - he won't dare to hurt me."

"He won't?", Agamemnon asked, suddenly utterly sure this youngster was suffering of a dangerously distorted perception.

"No." Shaking his head with almost melodramatic sincerity, Patroclus explained: "He loves me beyond words, and he won't hurt me once he realizes his mistake."

"Oh. In this case, of course...", Agamemnon said while gesturing at the lone Greek at the gate, "feel free to do whatever you please."

In his silent corner, Odysseus wondered if he was the only one noticing the dangerously mocking tone of Agamemnon's voice.

"Thank you, my King," Patroclus replied with a sketched bow, "I promise I will make you proud."

Turning around on his heels, the blond warrior didn't wait for Agamemnon to reply anything, and thus missed the caustic grin on the King's face.

"May the Gods be with you, boy", the King of Mycenae said, dripping with sarcasm, after the youngster had left the balcony. "But if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't count on it."

"Do you really think he has a chance against Achilles?", Menelaos asked curiously, already looking down at the blond fighter at the gates again.


"No." Smiling coldly at his brother's surprised blink, Agamemnon explained: "Look, dear, either he will kill Achilles, which I doubt but would nonetheless welcome most cordially. Or, the boy will get himself killed, which is just as fine with me. I just despise traitors."


Apparently, that answer was enough to keep Menelaos thinking for quite a while.

But for Odysseus in his easily overlooked corner, it was a most welcome pause and a chance for him to sort his racing thoughts. Obviously, Achilles was mad with rage, a fact the King of Ithaca could not immediately name a reason for. Either Patroclus' betrayal had hurt him more than Odysseus had ever thought anything could hurt the Greek, or there was something else he didn't know. Something that had transpired in the Trojan camp and Penelope hadn't thought of telling him during one of her rather regular nightly visits. Something that sounded so improbably that he hardly could name it in his thoughts.

Still wondering silently, thoughtfully chewing on his lower lip, Odysseus stared down at Achilles as if he could see the blond warrior's thoughts if he only looked close enough. He could see him sweating even from the distance, a glistening sheen on the Greek's shoulders, every now and then the sparkle of a drop on the fringe of Achilles' helmet or armor. The heat down there would drive any lesser man mad, and it didn't look as if the warrior was immune to it.

"Oh, here you are!"

Completely unannounced, Castor and Pollux suddenly appeared on the balcony, both of them only dressed in a linen cloth they had slung around their waists, looking as if heading for a leisurely day at the beach.
Just as suddenly, Agamemnon looked as if he had remembered a badly aching tooth. Or his wife.

"Castor, Pollux!" Apparently, Menelaos had no such ill feelings towards the twins. "So good to see you. Have you slept well, was it all after your liking?"

"Well, it was nice enough." One of the twins nodded gracefully, but Odysseus couldn't have said whether it was Castor or Pollux. To him, they just looked the same. "The bed was a bit hard, but then the company was most... pliant."


"Well", Menelaos replied hesitantly, not really sure what the twin's last remark was supposed to mean. "At least you won't miss out on the duel."

"Oh really? A duel, how kind of you to think of entertainment." Both twins stepped up to the wall, looking down at the gates with intrigue. On second thought, one of them seized the occasion and snatched two peaches from a bowl standing close by. Handing one of them to his brother, he mentioned: "Though I have to admit that it is somewhat hard to find a decent breakfast here in your palace, dear brother-in-law."

"Maybe", growled Agamemnon, who had until then remained ominously silent. "Maybe if you two chose to rise in the morning like everybody else, you'd get a breakfast like everybody else."

But the twins merely shrugged.

"Blood soup and soured water isn't much after our tastes, thank you, my King."

Taking a deep bite out of his peach, the ripe fruit's juice running down his chin and throat, he nodded in confirmation, while the other twin added:

"We prefer sweeter food, so we're just fine, thank you."

"You'll be just dead if you - "


Stunned, all conversation on the balcony stopped abruptly.

"Did Achilles just scream what I thought I heard?", Agamemnon asked with his eyebrows arching so high up they looked as if trying to hide in his hair. "Or was that just me?"

Down at the gates, the blond warrior wiped the sweat off his face with jerky motions, apparently taxed by more things than just the heat.

To Odysseus, like a mudslide it came clear what he had tried not to see all the time, what had happened in the Trojan camp he hadn't heard of yet.

"All the Gods....", the King of Ithaca whispered. "It's Hector. He's here because..." Looking up at Agamemnon, the King of Ithaca asked urgently: "He wants the Prince. He'll even fight for us if we just let him have his toy."

"Prince Hector?", the King of Kings asked with a neglecting gesture. "Sure. He can have him."

"Brother?", King Menelaos snapped with a sharpness that reminded not only Odysseus of an angry boy.

An ill feeling welled up in the Ithacan, and he asked:

"What have you done to him, Agamemnon?"

"Me? Nothing." Looking down at Achilles, he added: "I have given him to the men. They're supposed to have some fun of their own, after all."

His ill feeling growing into full-fledged despair within a single heartbeat, Odysseus tried hard not to think of what Achilles would do to all of them if Hector truly had become his lover.

"Brother!", Menelaos snapped again. "But you promised - "

"Just joking!" Jovially patting his younger brother on the shoulder, King Agamemnon laughed out wildly. "No, no, don't worry, Menelaos, don't worry. Hector's neatly chained up in the cellar next to his brother. I wouldn't give away our new favorite toy, would I?"

Menelaos looked vaguely reassured, but Odysseus' heart just didn't seem to stop sinking. All things were rapidly going from bad to worse, and all he could do was stand here and watch.

Right then, the city gates of Sparta opened with a deep, groaning sound, just wide enough to let a single, slender figure pass through.

Patroclus, by the looks of him, his step light and confident to the degree of folly. All men on the walls, be them Kings or archers, leaned forward not to miss a single second of what was just about to happen.

"You have called, and I have come", Patroclus declared most melodramatically. "Now what is your desire?"

But instead of an answer, Achilles just screamed at him, roared at the youngster with all the ferocity of a raging lion, loud enough to make some men lean back from the ramparts.

"Oh my", one of the twins commented dryly, once again chewing on his peach. "That boy is so dead."


Sparta, in front of the gates

Taken aback by Achilles less than eloquent reply, Patroclus' lithe step came to a somewhat staggering halt.

"Achilles", the young warrior pleaded, this time with much less theatrical emphasis. "I have done all this to help you. To free you from that vile Prince's spell!"

Still feeling dizzy from his long wait in the plain sun, Achilles wasn't really sure if his cousin had just tried to explain that abducting his lover was in his best interest only.
Gods, he wondered, shaking his head. The sun must have taxed me harder than I thought. Now the snotty prince suddenly is my lover.

"Achilles. Listen." Still more pleading than arguing, Patroclus continued. "There's nothing left in the Trojan camp that binds you there any longer. We can join Agamemnon and all will be good again!"

Breaking into soft, vaguely desperate laughter, Achilles wiped some sweat off his face. This was all too mad.

"Please, Achilles. We don't have to end it this way. We could be together again, just like in the old days, in Larissa." Taking his cousin's bemusement for a sign of armistice, Patroclus stepped up closer to Achilles. "Wouldn't that be better? What do you say?"

Looking up at the young man in front of him, Achilles grinned coldly.

"What I say?", he asked, and the chill in his voice was freezing enough to make his cousin take a step back. "I say you've got bite-marks on your throat. So much for your undying love."

Patroclus almost yelped defiantly, his left hand subconsciously rising to cover his throat.

"Cousin, this is not..."

But Achilles cut him off with a feral snarl.

"Prepare to die, 'cousin'", he growled, and in a disconcertingly amused gesture threw away his shield and spear. Taking off his helmet as well, now only holding his sword in both hands, Achilles grinned.

This incredible display of youthful over-confidence and self-importance had smothered the final bit of affection he might have held for his younger cousin. Now Achilles didn't want to kill him any longer, he wanted to eradicate him.

"I will kill you so dead, not even your soul will remain to walk the afterlife", the legendary warrior snarled, almost leisurely assuming fighting stance. "You will never again make the mistake of judging whom I might love or not."

"I have done all this for you!"

"I have never asked for it."

"But - ", Patroclus tried a last attempt at sorting this out with no bloodshed, tears of cold fury in his voice. Reluctantly preparing to fight, he whispered: "Achilles. I love you."

"Silly child." Slowly prowling around his younger cousin, Achilles prepared to attack. " Haven't you learned anything of me? Only love yourself. You'll be the only one who'll never hurt you. All others will."

And with his last words still hanging in the air like a promise, the blond warrior lurched for Patroclus.

Struggling to accept the fact that his cousin didn't roll over as he had expected, the young warrior only managed to escape the first, shattering blow by a hair's breadth. And for the first time, there was a cold tinge of fear to his heart.

Because this was not the agile, almost dancing Achilles he faced, but a man all but mad with burning rage, so intense there was nothing else left. Instead of fancy footwork and lightning-fast stabs, he had a stand like a mountain, and his blows came bluntly, straight-forward and with such inhuman force that made Patroclus wonder if the Titans were walking the earth again.

Smelling his cousin's fear, Achilles grinned.

He knew Patroclus had lost this duel long before stepping out of the city gate, but this obnoxious child would have to learn his lesson. His final lesson.

So, blow after blow, Achilles hammered down his lesson to the youngster, advancing in small steps, pressing his cousin back to the walls. He didn't even so much as bother to parry Patroclus' attacks. Achilles had trained him, had taught him every trick and trade - and in his silly belief in Achilles' infallibility, the boy had never seen the necessity of learning anything from anybody else.

Alright, the Greek warrior admitted silently to himself as Patroclus managed to nick his left upper arm, even I shouldn't forget that he has been trained by the best.

Yet, even though the young warrior gave his trainer anything but an easy fight, it was pretty obvious who dominated the duel.

The two cousins were already close to the walls by now, and as for a heartbeat, Patroclus lost his foothold on the gravelly slope, Achilles grabbed his shield in utter disregard of what he had taught the youngster. Yanking the shield forcefully out of Patroclus hand, he managed to do so with enough momentum that his opponent stumbled to the ground instead of seizing the occasion and skewering him.

Still a feral grin on his face, sweating, Achilles looked down on the youngster on the ground. This... boy had given Hector to Agamemnon. Somewhere behind these towering walls, there was the Trojan prince, at the mercy of the old madman and his unsavory brother.

As if Agamemnon knew anything of mercy.

With another scream, Achilles lurched forward again, his sword parried in the very last moment by Patroclus. Eyes wide with both fear and fury, the youngster stared up at his beloved cousin, snarling:

"For someone who doesn't love anybody but himself, that Trojan turns you quite emotional."

Hearing Patroclus, of all people, voice the dire suspicion Achilles had tried to ignore himself was just too much for the Greek. Instinctively kicking at his cousin's face on the ground, he completely abandoned any pretense of fighting properly.

Turning the duel into a mere brawl, he managed to wring the sword out of Patroclus' hands, hitting the youngster hard with his fist and the hilt of his sword.

Suddenly, with a swiftness Achilles hadn't suspected in the mangled body, Patroclus rolled out from under him, kicking up a cloud of dust that left the Greek blinking in tears.

Stumbling as he had received a deep gash to his thigh, the young warrior hauled himself towards the city gates, with Achilles following him rather leisurely.

Not believing his own eyes, he watched as his cousin all but crawled towards the huge wooden wings, trying to flee his fate in a display of cowardice Achilles usually would have considered reason enough to kill the boy, of only to wash his family free of this shame.

"Let me in!", Patroclus yelled as he finally reached the gates, hammering against the wood. "Let me in!"

But nothing happened.

"You didn't really think they'd take you back in, did you?", Achilles asked grimly as he stepped up behind him. "Agamemnon is much too ambitious to have any place for cowards. Or traitors."

Spitting out some bloody slime, Patroclus hissed in reply:

"How can you repay my love like this?"

Giving a stunned laugh, the blond Greek looked down at his cousin. He could chop off his head right now, end this shameful moment for both of them. Kill him, get the satisfaction of seeing his beady eyes break, his blood drench the dry earth at the gate.

But still that wouldn't change one bit of Hector's fate.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, Patroclus crouching at the city gates, Achilles standing in front of him, his sword raised for a final blow, both appearing frozen under the searing sun.

Then, in a movement so swift most onlookers simply missed it, Achilles brought down his blade. Screaming in pain and confusion, Patroclus stared at his sword-hand, its palm neatly run through by his cousin's sword.

"Never again," Achilles stated with an expression that was a mask of contained repulsion, "never again you will dare to think you could kill a man."

Taking his sword out of Patroclus' hand, he turned around on his heel, briskly walking back to the chariot that had brought him to the city. While the youngster crouched on the ground, holding his maimed hand and whimpering in shock, Achilles grabbed a rope he found in the back of the vehicle and walked back.

"Never again you will kill"; Achilles stated mostly to himself as he tied Patroclus' legs, ignoring the youngster's feeble opposition. "But maybe, you can still safe a life or two."

"Why....?", Patroclus whined under tears, still holding his bleeding hand. "Why?"

With a bitter laugh, Achilles turned around, tying the rope's other end to the chariot.

"You want to know why?", the Greek asked bitterly as he took up the reigns, "Because I made the cursed mistake of loving somebody else."

And without another word, he spurred up the horse, dragging his screaming cousin behind all the way down to the Trojan camp.


Sparta, somewhere below the Royal Palace.

"Oh brother," Menelaos stated calmly, rubbing his naked belly with silent delight. "This was a great finish to a great day."

"Was it?" Agamemnon didn't even bother to look at the King of Sparta. "Somehow, I must have missed the good parts of it."

Blinking in mostly wine-induced confusion, Menelaos scratched his beard.

"But what is wrong? You're rid of that traitor, the King of Troy has no heirs left, and Achilles is loosing his temper. He'll soon come back to you, crawling at your throne. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Agamemnon looked as if he was about to throw up.

"Yes, Achilles is loosing his grip. But if this is a blessing or a curse, only the Gods know."

For a moment, both men were silent, and the King of Kings strode through the room like a caged animal.

"I despise him" he continued his monologue after a while, "I have never claimed otherwise. But this now is different. Achilles never did anything that wasn't for his glory."

"Well, I thought the show at the gates today was rather glorious." Menelaos nodded vigorously, opening another amphora of wine with a generous smile. "Even the twins were impressed."

"To Hades with those twins!!!", Agamemnon yelled, and for the first time, his brother noted that his splendid mood seemed somewhat misplaced. "If they weren't our brothers-in-law, I'd have long flayed and staked them. Obnoxious, arrogant, lewd peacocks."

"Quite deadly peacocks, if you ask me."

"Yeah." The King of Mycenae grimaced once more as if he was sick. "That's the problem."

Suddenly stopping dead in his restless pacing, Agamemnon stared at the two men at the rear wall of the room who had until then played no part in the conversation. Chained to the wall, their hands above their head, the two Trojan Princes were more hanging than standing, and given their astounding assortment of cuts and bruises, there was little wonder they both seemed hardly conscious.

"Hector...", Agamemnon whispered with a sudden gleeful menace that made his brother shiver despite the tepid air. "Hector, dear, why don't I ask you, as you so conveniently happen to be hanging out with us..."

Even if the Trojan Prince was still conscious, he didn't show any reaction.

"Your people name you horse-tamer, don't they, Prince Hector?" Slowly approaching the mutilated Trojan, Agamemnon snickered cruelly. "There always is a kernel of truth in a man's name, and I'd say you've tamed one of the mightiest horses we have in this generation."

Now, Hector's head jerked up, and despite his bloodied and swollen features, there was a murderous glimmer in his eyes.

"And look how furious we are." Still smiling fiendishly, the King of Kings nodded at Hector's unveiled hatred. "I knew it was a good thing when this silly boy offered me one of Troy's Princes in return for my pardon if Achilles ever came back to side with me. But now, my dear, it seems to me he has brought me a gift far more precious."

Almost gently tracing a line of dried blood along Hector's cheek, Agamemnon added:

"Achilles will fight for me whether he wants to or not. For he knows that if he doesn't, I'll send his precious lover back to him in pieces. Bit by bit, day by day, and soon this nasty little episode will finally be over."

"Never." Hector's voice was so raspy it was hardly intelligible, but his iron conviction was unmistakable. "He will never betray us."

Stunned, Agamemnon blinked first at Hector, then at his brother. Slowly, the King of Kings started to chuckle softly, then broke into helpless laughter. Hesitant, Menelaos joined his brother, wondering what his ill-humored brother could possibly find so amusing.

"Oh my." Still laughing tears, Agamemnon shook his head. "And what, by all the Gods, makes you believe he wouldn't?"

"Achilles loves me."

This time, both Kings instantly broke into uproarious laughter, hanging on to each other for support. Apparently, that reply had been endlessly funny.
Finally, when they had both calmed down enough to speak again, Agamemnon wiped the tears out of his eyes and said:

"Oh my, that was a brilliant one." Taking a deep breath, he straightened up again, adding: "That was already the second time I heard that one today, and I have to admit, it's getting funnier every time. I'd say it's got the potential to become my all-time favorite." With a leering, sidelong glance, he added: "Next to your brother, that is, of course."


End of Chapter 5
Current Mood: moody
not_sallynot_sally on July 18th, 2004 09:36 am (UTC)
Oh my. This chapter was so amazing.
First of: I love the twins. I can't believe you managed to include them in the fic, but am I ever so grateful.
Also, you kept the screaming scene! that was my absolute favorite. Agamemnon mocking Achilles was hilarious.
Since I didn't review the previous chapter, I also tell you the scene between Priam and Penelope killed me. It was so heart-breaking.
And it's good to see Patroclus finally getting what he deserves, and I'm not talking about the twins.
All in all, wonderful chapter. I wouldn't complain if the fic ended up being longer than six chapter. I'm loving it.
Cardinal Rosetrust_n0_1 on July 18th, 2004 11:12 am (UTC)
This rocked! I love the concept of the story and how you bring it to life. But don't take so long to update. And also, this should be longer than 6 chapters, even if just to give it proper development and closure. It would be to soon to finish it in one more chapter..... Please???? Absolutely love your Penelope/Odysseus and your Achilles/Hector is delightful. Though I don't envy Hector one bit now but not feeling sorry for Paris *sorry*.
cocainemusic on July 18th, 2004 12:54 pm (UTC)
So you've joined the club of almost cliff-hangers?, we won't see another chapter (the last one?) for weeks. Patroclus has sort of grown on me, but he's still gonna suffer right? Your Agamemnon creeps me out...
Daisydaisysparrow on July 18th, 2004 02:41 pm (UTC)
Hi. I first read this story on the Mirrormere site and had been hooked ever since. I like it a lot and I'm so glad you updated. I'm happy (somewhat gleefully) to see that Patroclus got his just reward, even though I kinda felt sorry for him. And the twins were wicked. But I think it's your villians that I liked the most, not the villians themselve of course >_<, but your portrays of them. Rock on! ^^
Lizardlazar_grrl on July 18th, 2004 09:06 pm (UTC)
Have to agree with some of the above comments: I wish you would make this longer. After all he's been through, I'm not sure if I want Paris to end up with Helen or Castor & Pollux. Maybe all three. Just please don't kill him off or leave him hopelessly insane. (Although that would probably be more realistic. Your Agamemnon and Menelaus are stomach-churning vile.) And the bit with Patroclus...it probably says something bad about my character, but I found that scene funny, in a certain roadkill way. You haven't really described the torture scenes so far, so I'm curious as to what you'll do to the traitor. Nice to see that Hector isn't easy to break. Keep it up. And please don't make us wait a month for the next one.
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on July 19th, 2004 10:42 am (UTC)
Wow. So many still reading this despite the long pause.

Thanks to all of you, and just to reassure you: I do not plan on moving anywhere again in near future, so I am pretty sure the next chapter will be up in due time. Again, I am sorry that this one took so long, but when you have got things like no lights and lost furniture to worry about, writing is hardly something you can do easily.

Also, as many of you complain that there'll only be one more chapter: it's still marked with an ?, so you can see even I am not sure if it'll be one more or even more more. In my little red book, it says there's not much in terms of text that'll happen, so it maybe will only make one more chapter. But then again, it FEELS so much, it can just as well become a fourty page chapter, which I would probably split up then. ;-)
Whatever the muses will make it, I hope I'll finish it this weekend,

HUGS to all of you dears,
take good care,


Nyaartemicion on July 22nd, 2004 07:27 pm (UTC)
I can't believe you updated and I didn't notice! Welcome back. ^_^

A lovely chapter and you've fulfilled my 'hurt that bastard Patroclus' wish so wonderfully. The fight scene between Achilles and that bastard was very nicely done. And you put in Castor and Pollux! All good stuff. Please, PLEASE tell me there will be more soon!
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on July 23rd, 2004 07:30 am (UTC)
Re: YAY!!
Dear Nya,

thanks so much. As you can read in the comment above, I am pretty confident there'll be another chapter within the coming days. Glad you still like it!