Media Vitae in Morte Sumus

 

By Valerie

 

 

+Prologue+

 

*October 2005, Aubonne Switzerland*

 

“And so the stories say that Ulysses returned as well, as Prince Telemachus had hoped: one day he showed up at the palace in disguise, dressed as a beggar, and for days he observed all that went on without revealing his identity do anyone, not even his wife. When his suddenly made himself known, he appeared as he truly was to the eyes of all, he grasped his bow and shot down the suitors who were banqueting in the great hall as Prince Telemachus and his servants barred the doors and prevented them from fleeing. He slaughtered them all, one after another, he hanged the maidservants how had betrayed him and then he finally revealed himself to his wife.

 

And yet they say that his homecoming was bitter: he returned on a foreign vessel, having lost his ships and his comrades, and he had to shed much blood to reassert his authority. The massacre never ceased to weigh upon him. He left his throne to his son and departed once again on a final quest for peace. They say he was seeking a distant, solitary land in which he could immolate a sacrifice that would free him from the persecution of the gods and allow him to live the last days of his life in serenity on his rocky island. No one knows whether he succeeded, and no one knows what end he met.

 

The Palladium, the sacred image of Athena, which had made Ilium the greatest and most prosperous city in the world, the treasure which had been the real reason for the Trojan war disappeared with him and the stories tell that it was this very image that he presented as a sacrifice. And yet no one knows whether this is true. The twilight of the last heroes has faded into confused, uncertain accounts for which there have been no witnesses.”

 

Massimo watched as Odysseus read the last couple of sentences in his latest book and turned around with a huge smile.

 

“It’s great, you really manage to mix reality and myth together so well and I am sure that Diomedes would have been proud to finally see his story told.”

 

A sad expression flashed over the expressive face and Massimo wondered if Odysseus still mourned those he had lost during and after the Trojan War, but as if the ancient vampire had read his mind he smiled again.

 

“He was always telling me that in the end it would be him and Agamemnon that the world would remember. Who would have thought that in the end it would be Achilles and me?”

 

The cheeky comment got an indignant grunt from his mate and the Italian writer grinned as he turned around and looked at Hector.

 

“Well you have to admit, that Achilles is immortalized as a body part, where as most kids today know a Trojan as a nasty computer virus.”

 

The dark haired vampire snorted at this and glared at his mate.

 

“You better be quiet.”

 

Odysseus smiled and then looked up.

 

“Sorry Mass, I completely forgot to ask if you want something to drink or some food.”

 

At the nod of the Italian, Odysseus got up and went for the kitchen to get some food and wine for Massimo and two glasses of blood for him and his mate. Massimo’s eyes followed him as he thought back how his life had changed seven years ago, when he had presented his then latest book at press conference.

 

‘What will your next book be about?’

 

He had answered the question with ease and had told them that he planned on writing a biography about Alexander the Great. The press had not been impressed and so he’d explained that...

 

‘I want to bring this man alive, make people understand what he stood for and how he lived. I want to tell the story the way Alexander would have told it.’

 

The short announcement hadn’t even made it into the newspaper article but three weeks later his phone had rang and a foreign voice had asked if he was still interested in writing Alexander’s story. He had agreed to meet the stranger the next day and now sitting on a comfortable couch in a beautiful old house overlooking the Lake Geneva he smiled as he thought back to the talk that had changed his life.

 

They had met in a nice cosy restaurant near the university and when he had walked into the sun-flooded room he had seen his ‘date’ immediately. Tall, handsome with dark blond hair the man had exuded an air of confidence and power.

 

‘Antonio Marco’

 

He had answered with a friendly greeting, but the other man had not cared for platitudes and once the waiter had disappeared, he had looked closely at Massimo.

 

‘I heard that you are interested in writing Alexander’s story the way he would have told it.’

 

Massimo had agreed and silently waited for whatever the other man wanted to say.

 

‘If you are prepared to see beyond the reality you know, he will tell you.’

 

And so it had started. He had learned that Antonio Marco had once been Marc Anthony that vampires existed and finally after two days of trying to bring his academic head around the real facts he had met Alexander.

 

The real Alexander the Great...

 

What could he say about it? It had been great...

 

“Hey which corner did you just disappear into?”

 

Odysseus looked at him and Massimo smiled as he answered the older vampire.

 

“Was thinking about the first time I met Alexander.”

 

Hector laughed and shook his head.

 

“Alexander and Antonio, yeah we used to say that they are their own AA meeting.”

 

The dark haired vampire cocked his head to one side and Massimo felt the intensive eyes resting on him. Feeling self conscious he raised an eyebrow questioningly and tried his best not to fidget in his seat.

 

“So who impressed you most?”

 

Who had impressed him the most? Over the last seven years he had met several members of Sanguen Vitae, Camelot and now the council. His books had been praised for their ‘live portrayal of historical figures’ something that had usually made him laugh and pay the responsible vampire a nice bottle of wine. He smiled as he thought of his students and their reaction to his thesis in ‘the last legion’ that not only the last emperor of Rome had escaped but that even more important with him had been a warrior who had fought the barbarians and had in the end become king. His book had stopped with the sword being embedded in the stone, the start of a new legend and yet not one he was ever going to write. None of the writers associated with the vampire community would ever dare, not if they knew Guinevere. Not long after the last legion he had been approached by Odysseus and Hector and they had helped him writing the story of the lost talisman of Troy.

 

He had spent time with the two ancient vampires and to his surprise they had become friends. It was something he had never achieved with either Arthur or Alexander, both vampire too regal or maybe Massimo was just too much in awe. So out of the entire bunch of people he had met, who had impressed him most?

 

Massimo smiled and answered with a shrug and a grin.

 

“Cleopatra”

 

Hector laughed at that and smiled softly when Odysseus sat down next to him, for a moment the two vampires were silent, absorbing their love and presence and a sudden thought occurred Massimo.

 

“You know, I’ve written your stories but I still don’t know how you two actually happened, I mean this isn’t exactly something that is mentioned in Homer’s Iliad...”

 

Hector and Odysseus exchanged a look and then turning silent for a moment, the Trojan looked at the Italian writer.

 

“Much of what happened is not mentioned in the Iliad and much that is did not happen. But as you surely teach your students, history is written by the victors and by those that lose. Not many people know the true story and what we tell you now you will never be able to retell.”

 

Massimo smiled and nodded looking at the two extraordinary men in front of him, he had read their stories, and then had listened to their accounts but even now the thing that surprised him the most was the love that surrounded them. A love so strong that it had lasted through wars and millennia, he watched as Hector sat down next to his mate, leaning against the smaller man and he understood that the vampire was seeking strength from his mate. How would it be to have been with the same person for over 3000 years?

 

“You know the basics, the celebrations we were invited to in Sparta, the meeting of Helena and Paris...”

 

Massimo nodded, but then a thought occurred to him.

 

“Were you already a vampire by that time?”

 

Hector nodded.

 

“Yes and so was Paris”

 

And Massimo saw that although Hector was enclosed in Odysseus’ arms, those simple words transported the vampire back in time, back to a city he had loved and felt responsible for.

 

Back to Troy...

 

---

 

+Chapter 1+

 

* Around 1200 BC, Between Sparta and Troy*

 

There was a feeling of eternity to the endless blue of the ocean. Some of their priests said that the world was ending beyond this sea, but somehow Hector had a hard time believing it. There had to be more, there had to be another world... Somewhere out there had to be the secret to his kind... For a moment Hector watched the waves,

looked at the clear blue of the water, so deceptively calm now and yet so deadly if roused. There were moments when the city he had been born to lead felt as if it were a prison and in those moments he was tempted to just leave, take a ship and sail to the end of the world… Where ever it would lead him...

 

“Do you love me brother?”

 

Paris’ voice was uncertain, something that was unusual for the cocky prince and the slightly downcast eyes held more than a bit of fear. It concerned Hector to see his brother stand next to him like this and he turned away from the open sea to look at the other man.

 

“Why do you ask this?”

 

It was over sixty years that he had met Paris for the first time in his life, Paris who had been cast out of the family after his mother had a vision of her new born baby setting Troy on fire. No one in the palace had ever spoken of the boy and with his mother’s death; both the vision and the boy had fallen into forgetfulness. Until Hector had stumbled upon him one day as he had hunted a deer, he had followed it and suddenly heard pleas for help, following the pained voice he had seen a young man surrounded by muggers. The men had shrunk back from the prince and ran for the woods. Hector had kneeled down to calm the boy down and had stared into his own eyes.

 

“I might have made a large mistake.”

 

Once again the hesitant tone brought Hector back from the memories and with a weary feeling he followed his brother to the back of the boat and into his chamber. He froze at the sight of the slender woman that sat on Paris’ bed and looked at his brother in shock.

 

“Helena of Sparta, Paris how could you?”

 

Helena looked as if she was about to cry at the harsh words and immediately Paris leapt at her defence and stood in front of his older brother with defiance in his eyes.

 

“I love her” and with a lower voice, one that only Hector heard he added. “Don't you remember what Aphrodite promised when I gave her the apple? My love and partner would be the most beautiful being under the sunshine. One that rivals the god's themselves. Helena is it, Hector, she’s my mate”

 

Hector saw the emotions that Paris called love in his brother’s eyes had seen them so many times before and shook his head sadly. He saw no love, but infatuation, no deep connection but insatiable lust and without another word he left the room. Ever since the goddess had promised Paris the perfect love, his brother had been searching for the one to make that promise come true and yet even in fifty years he had not found that one special person.

 

His mother’s vision came to his mind and once again staring sadly over the blue ocean, he knew that in the end she had been right. It would be Paris’ hand that set Troy on fire.

 

---

 

* October 2005, Aubonne, Switzerland*

 

“Did you ever think someone was your mate before we met?”

 

Hector saw his mate look at him and shook his head.

 

“No and neither have I ever met you before, I thank Zeus with all that I am that I never had to go through the pain of losing you.”

 

He shuddered as he thought of others like Tony from Sylum who had lost his mate century after century, remembered the pain he had seen in strong men like Alexander after he had lost Hephaiston and shivered at the insanity he had seen in Riddick’s eyes the first time he had met the famed hunter. No, Hector considered himself truly lucky to have found Odysseus even he would have not agreed back then.

 

“Did Paris ever find his mate?”

 

Hector nodded and looked at Massimo with eyes full of memories.

 

“Yes, he did”

 

---

 

*Around 1200 BC, Troy*

 

He dreaded the moment when he would have to ride out and fight for the first time. Hector was not afraid of fighting or killing, war was a reality of his world and as a prince it was his duty to fight at the front line and yet, this time, seeing all those ships line up from afar, he shivered.

 

He knew what they were coming from.

 

There was a treasure hidden behind Troy’s walls, a treasure beyond anyone’s dreams and imaginations and it was not Helena of Sparta.

 

Hector sent a quick look over to his brother, he knew that Paris had not understood the ramifications of his actions, had not believed him or his father’s advisors. He kept on telling them that no one would start a war because of a woman... And yes Paris had been right and yet so horribly wrong. None of those ships had been launched to bring a woman back, no those ships wanted to sail back in the red light of a burning city.

 

“I will ride out and defend our shores.”

 

He saw his father look at him, saw the age in those wise eyes and wished with all his heart that Priam would not have to witness this. And yet there was still an incredible strength in the hands that gripped his as the old king handed him the sword of Troy.

 

“The gods blessed you with a long life, and a grand one too, my son, may that blessing stay with you for this fight.”

 

Hector bowed his head and kissed his father on the cheeks. The old king had never questioned his sons for their eternal youth, simply believed that it was a blessing from the gods, that Apollo himself had blessed two of his sons so that the god could enjoy their presence for a longer than normal time. Sometimes, Hector had wanted to tell him the truth, but deep in his heart he knew that Priam did not want to hear it, did not want to know that his sons had in fact died long ago.

 

Andromache was already waiting for him in their rooms and her calm, intelligent eyes took in the hidden grief as she quickly gathered her hair and pushed it aside baring her neck.

 

“They say that Achilles will be there too, you will need to be strong and fierce.”

 

His eyes expressed his love and gratitude as he kissed her quickly on the cheek before his fangs slid into her skin and he carefully fed. Her blood was warm and strong and as always he was overcome with memories and dreams...

 

... of his turning... the deadly fight he had seen, the horror of something like this happening in his city, him running over to interfere and save the man... the searing pain of a knife entering his flesh... Paris’ pained scream... his horror when he had seen his own brother fall under the other man’s knife... dark eyes looking at him with concern... his desperate plea to save Paris... the smile and the question which had changed his life... ‘Do you want to gain eternity?’

 

... of a blond man and green eyes... strong hands handling a bow with skill and strength… the same hands caressing his body, arousing him and yet calming him... green eyes looking at him with love and longing... a strong body against his and the feeling of finally being whole...

 

... red flames against the black sky, screams in the air... pain in his heart as he watched his city die...

 

With a gasp, Hector withdrew from his wife’s neck and stared at her with a shiver. She seemed to have seen his shock and slowly she framed his face with her hands.

 

“I know what you saw, I see it too and it makes me scream in my sleep, but it is not yet decided Hector. Troy’s fate is not yet sure, there is still time...”

 

She trailed off as she watched him put on the armour. Hector looked at her with warmth in his eyes, warmth that disappeared as he took his weapons and looked at his sword. Once again he turned around and looked at the young woman who to the rest of the world was his wife and yet in reality was the daughter of his grandson.

 

“Whether our fate is decided or not Andromache, now it is not the time to wonder and fear, now is the time to fight.”

 

He looked at her and then bent down towards her son, caressing the little boy he loved as if he were his own. When he was already at the door, he turned around again.

 

“Should I not come back, leave the city and go to Daniel. Watch over the little one, he is the last of my line.”

 

---

 

The phalanx of ships was impressive and for a moment Hector felt as if the entire display was orchestrated to show the Greek power and crush the hope of the Trojans. Psychological warfare at its best... Hector shivered as he saw the sleek ship ahead of the rest of them and with a cry of war he gave the signal to attack the intruders at the Trojan border.

 

The fight was fierce from the first moment on and Hector fought with anger and rage simmering in him. Those men had come to his shore, his city to destroy it and he showed no mercy. He noticed that few of the Greek kings had engaged in the first battle and felt disgust when he saw that the first victim was a young Greek no younger than 17. Sending boys to battle and then watch them die from the safety of the ship, again Hector snarled in disgust and only with force he held the vampire back from emerging and ripping those men to shreds.

 

The moment his sword connected with yet another blade and his focus shifted to his newest attacker. Their eyes met and Hector felt as if the world shifted. He was looking at the man of his dreams, the man whose soul had called for him in deep nights, when he couldn’t sleep and with a shiver Hector stepped back.

 

“Who are you?”

 

The man looked at him, clear, intelligent eyes taking in Hector’s rich armour, the proud eyes, the strength in his body and with a cold smile he answered.

 

“Odysseus of Ithaca, at your service Prince Hector”

 

Hector saw the sword come down again, but without saying anything he stepped back and using his vampire speed and strength sidestepped every single blow without even raising his own blade once. Odysseus stared at him smirking.

 

“Something wrong about me? Or do you just don’t fight against Kings?”

 

Hector looked calmly at the man who was destined to be his mate and turned around, yet before he called his men to retreat back into the city, he looked back once more.

 

“You are the only King who fought today Odysseus and that itself is a reason not to fight you.”

 

He rode back in a daze, Troy had lost its shores to the Greek and he himself had lost several men, good men, but all he could think of was the man with eyes as green as the forests and as deep and intelligent as the sea. He felt his soul call out to him, he felt himself being drawn back the Greek camp.

 

Hector never really understood what Daniel was talking about, when he spoke about mates, had understood the concept but not the feelings. Daniel had spoken of the man he had lost so long ago and he had seen the pain in his eyes, and yet he had never expected to feel so strong, so incredibly much for someone he had never met before.

 

Finally the walls of his city rose in front of him and with a final clarity the truth set in. They had lost the shores and soon enough there would be a full out war, a war which would either end up with those walls falling or the Greek ships burning. Hector shivered.

 

He had found his mate.

 

And he would lose him to this war.

 

---

 

* October 2005, Aubonne, Switzerland*

 

Odysseus watched as his mate as Hector got up and walked over the grass down to the lake. He felt the tension, could feel how remembering their beginning was painful on him. He couldn’t imagine what Hector had felt that day when they had met during the fight, he had never been without his mate for longer than a couple of days and that had been after they had bonded.

 

Slowly he got up too, sent an apologetic look towards Massimo and followed the tall vampire who stared over the calm lake towards the majestic French Alps.

 

“What is bothering you?”

 

Hector was silent for a long time, then suddenly shivered and drew his mate against his body. Odysseus went willingly, leaning against the taller figure drawing and giving strength in once.

 

“Ever since Nick called, it is all so near again and I wonder why...”

 

Odysseus sighed silently, not knowing whether to curse the Sylum leader or to thank him. The discoveries of yet another descendant of Achilles had woken many memories for both of them, but whereas his were of a friend and sometimes rival, the memories Hector had were much more complicated.

 

Achilles had come to Troy to find glory in the destruction of the golden city, had promised to kill the prince whose name had been just as famous as his own.

 

Hector had been prepared to fight him.

 

But he had never gotten the chance.

 

---

 

*Around 1200 BC, Troy*

 

The worst thing about a war was the time in between. The time in between was spent discussing strategy and fights with people that had never fought themselves, had never killed someone, had never understood what it meant to know that of those he sent out in one day only two thirds came back.

 

Hector didn’t blame his father for not fighting but sometimes he wished that Paris would support him a bit more, that his brother would take his fighting lessons more serious, that he would finally grow up.

 

Paris had promised to help him defend Troy, but so far he hadn’t seen much of it and if he was honest, then it was not only his brother’s fault. Few people saw more in him than a pretty boy and he was neither on the war council nor did he hold any rank in the military force. Hector didn’t know if it was because of Paris’ behaviour that made people not trust him or if his brother had become like this because people didn’t trust him.

 

It had been five years since he had seen his mate for the first time and ever since that day he had pushed any thought of Odysseus from his mind. He could not allow being distracted from the sole reason he was still alive, the reason he had been turned; to protect Troy and to make sure that the mighty walls would never be breached. And yet as much as he pushed away any thoughts during the day, he could not prevent them at night, could not avoid those eyes and hands to follow him into his dreams... Some of those dreams were so real, so incredibly real that they made him reach out in sleep and wake to the coldness of an empty bed. Others were frightening, he saw

himself fight, saw Odysseus fight close by and heard the scream, he turned around and saw his mate fall.

 

Those were the dreams that made him wake up and those were the nights in which he would find no more sleep.

 

He sighed as he led his men into yet another fight, so far most of the fighting had been nothing more than short battles, both forces were too well matched and the war was in a constant stalwart.

 

Something had to give, Hector knew that the Greek were running low on provisions, that there wasn’t much left to raid outside the city and somehow he was sure that if, only if, Troy could withstand the pressure for another year or two, that the city would be safe.

 

And maybe once this war was over, once this was all history, maybe then he could allow himself to dream of his mate during the days.

 

Of course all those positive thoughts had one big drawback… They all based on the hope that Achilles would continue his refusal to fight.

 

Stopping his horse, he raised his hand and motioned his men to take up their positions, the Trojan forces fought in formations, nothing elaborate and yet it ensured that every man knew where his place in the fight was.

 

For a moment Hector turned around and looked at his men, looked at those that were his second in command, those that led with him and nodded before he turned around to face the Greek army. Yet another day, yet another battle...

 

The two forces moved with the preciseness of two opponents that knew each other after five years of fighting, but before the first blows could be traded a murmur rose through the ranks of the Greek army and with growing dread, Hector watched as like a dark threat the fighters of Achilles walked through the gap that opened in front of them and with them right at the front the fabled hero himself.

 

Achilles

 

He felt the eyes of his men on him, felt how their fighting moral had just deteriorated and snarling at the Greek, he dismounted and charged. By the time he had reached Achilles he had seen the fighting skills of the other man displayed perfectly and as they finally faced each other, it seemed as if the rest of the battle was suddenly on hold.

 

Achilles stood opposite him, his armour dark and yet magnificent, intrinsic carvings on the black leather and metal plate. Tale was that the Greek warrior had received this armour from his mother, and it said that his mother was a goddess herself, that Achilles was already destined to be dining with the gods in the Olympus.

 

He had heard of the prophesy that had brought Achilles to this war, had wondered why someone would chose glory and death instead of peace and a long life. Now though, now he looked into cold steel blue eyes and saw a burning desire to prove something and he understood.

 

“Hector of Troy”

 

His voice was mocking, but something else suddenly drew Hector’s attention and it was the way Odysseus looked at Achilles the moment the other man spoke. There was something like shock, something like disbelief and suddenly he noticed that something about this entire display was off.

 

Why did Achilles armour not sit properly? Why did his heart beat so fast?

 

The hero was a seasoned warrior, had earned his reputation in many battles, why would be so excited about fighting him? Reaching out with his enhanced senses, he felt an air of fear around the other warrior and suddenly knew why Odysseus had looked so confused.

 

His mate had looked at Achilles as if he hadn’t recognized the other man’s voice and he couldn’t have, because the man behind that armour was not Achilles. Hector narrowed his eyes as he spoke slowly, but clearly enough to be heard across the battle field.

 

“Yes, I am Hector of Troy and I will prove it by removing my helmet, so that no one can later say, that I do not fight my own battles.”

 

He removed his helmet and waited with his eyes fixed on Achilles.

 

“I am Achilles; I do not need to identify myself.”

 

The answer earned him nothing but a concrete smile from Hector and then to his utter surprise, Odysseus stepped forward and with a smile held out his hand.

 

“Give me your sword, Achilles, so that you can reveal yourself to the one you will kill for he deserves to see your face.”

 

For a short moment the other man still hesitated and Hector wondered if Odysseus had not overstepped his limits, but then the Greek slowly removed his helmet.

 

“Patroclus”

 

Odysseus’ shocked exclamation was repeated several times in the Greek camp and the leader of Achilles force walked forward looking at the young man.

 

“How dare you wearing this armour? How dare you pretending you are him?”

 

Hector watched the drama unfold when suddenly cold eyes filled with hate met his again.

 

“Fight me, prince of Troy”

 

There was a challenge in his voice, but just as Hector was about to accept green eyes met his and almost imperceptibly, Odysseus shook his head. For a moment he battled with his mind, but his heart, his soul which already trusted the other man won out and so he looked straight into the young man’s eyes.

 

“I will fight you, when you wear your own armour and carry your own sword.”

 

Nodding at his men, he turned around, knowing that today, there would be no fighting. He saw the relief in their faces and for a moment allowed himself to feel gratitude that no one’s life had been lost.

 

The pain and the warning registered simultaneously in his mind and with dawning horror he realized that he was injured, that someone had stabbed him in his back. Disbelief made him turn around and look at the man he’d just refused to fight against. Patroclus stood there, watching him coldly and somewhat proudly. Hector felt the

pain spread through his body, felt darkness tug at his mind and he knew that were he mortal the wound would be fatal. Still though he held the eyes of the one who had murdered him and with a voice that was already fading, he branded him not only in the eyes of the Trojans, but also the Greeks.

 

“You take another’s armour to fight and then dishonour that name by stabbing someone in the back. What kind of a warrior are you, have you no honour at all?”

 

He could barely breathe and the pain in his back was too great, he didn’t feel the ground as he collapsed, didn’t realize that instinctively Odysseus had almost stepped forward to catch him. He didn’t feel anything when he was dragged to the Greek camp, didn’t hear Odysseus’ protest as Patroclus claimed his body and the shocked and confused Trojans were too late to prevent it.

 

Darkness had engulfed him before and the last thing he remembered were green eyes and the knowledge that he had failed in saving both his mate and his city.

---

+Chapter 2+

 

* October 2005, Aubonne, Switzerland*

 

Odysseus held his mate close to him as he remembered the moment that Hector had just spoken about; he saw the shock in Massimo’s eyes and shivered.

 

“So how come the truth was never recounted?”

 

He felt Hector’s body tremble and with bitterness in his voice, he repeated the words from before.

 

“Because history is written by the victors and neither Agamemnon nor Patroclus cared for the truth to be known and so the noble friend of Achilles died under the hand of the murderer from Troy and that fact alone was enough to bring Achilles back to the field where he slew the tamer of the horses.”

 

Massimo looked at him with sadness and silently he asked.

 

“But why distort the truth? Why not tell it?”

 

Odysseus looked at his mate and saw him nodding quickly.

 

“Because the one who told Homer about the Trojan War was Patroclus and believe me, he had many reasons not to tell the truth.”

 

It was his turn now to draw strength from his mate as he let his mind go back to the field, to the moment where Patroclus had stepped forward; his sword raised and had killed the prince of Troy. Sighing lightly, he looked at his mate and then slowly said.

 

“I didn’t know then and yet when I saw you fall, it was as if something was ripped from me.”

 

Hector’s hand found his and that simple connection meant everything as the other vampire slowly said.

 

“You might not have known, but your soul did.”

 

---

 

*Around 1200 BC, Troy*

 

The ride back to the Greek camp was grim and silent, Odysseus could feel the tension among their fighters and he knew that soon enough the camp would be split into two groups. A bitter smile crossed his face as he slowed his carriage and let himself fall back in the group to where Hector’s body was dragged by an empty horse through the sands.

 

Agamemnon would praise Patroclus for killing the prince of Troy and he knew that many would follow the mighty king’s lead and not care about honour.

 

His eyes fell on the body of his dead enemy; he had heard the plea of Hector’s second in command right before they had taken off with the body, the plea to give the prince of Troy back to the city, the plea to give him a proper funeral so that his spirit would find peace in Hades.

 

Patroclus had not reacted instead he had turned around and looked at the tall man who was visibly broken by the loss of his friend and leader. His laughter and words had been cruel and without even glancing back he had told his servant to tie the ropes around Hector’s ankles and then to the horse. The Greek had ridden off to the parting words of the Trojan.

 

‘You shamed the Gods and they will avenge Hector’

 

Odysseus swallowed heavily, what was it about this man that he could not see an enemy in him? Why could he not at least be relieved that the defender of Troy had fallen? Why had he felt as if a piece of himself had died the moment when Hector had been stabbed? He shivered as a sudden breeze caressed his skin like soft hands and with a last look at the mutilated corpse he spurred his carriage on.

 

Back in the camp Agamemnon praised Patroclus for his cunning, hailed him a true warrior. Odysseus could not be silent then and even though he knew he should not speak, he did.

 

“There was nothing heroic or brave in what Patroclus did, neither was there honour. He killed a hero by stabbing him in the back. It was nothing but a common murder.”

 

There was a heavy silence after his words and brave as he was, Odysseus felt cold dread in his body when then the king looked at him. The cold eyes fixed him with a calculating gaze.

 

“So you call a Greek a murderer and a Trojan a hero? Was it not you, Odysseus of Ithaca, who told me that we have to be wary of spies in our midst? Were you talking about yourself then?”

 

Patroclus had not said anything during the entire exchange, but now his eyes lay on Odysseus and they were mocking and full of contempt. Agamemnon continued to fix Odysseus with his gaze and for a moment he was close to cave in.

 

“I will watch you closely, King of Ithaca”

 

There was a silent threat in those words, but before he could answer anything a collective gasp ran through the masses of soldiers that had observed the drama.

 

“Athena”

 

Odysseus turned at those words and a shiver ran over his body, when he too saw the goddess standing on top of the dune. Tall, proud and strong she stood in her carriage and another gasp ran through the crowd, when the soldiers noticed that it wasn’t just some random carriage. The wooden carriage was emblazed with the insignia of Ithaca.

 

There was no movement in the powerful figure and yet, they all felt as if her eyes were fixed in them. A sudden wind covered the goddess and the carriage in a cloud of sand and as the cloud settled, the carriage was empty.

 

More than one soldier cast a glance at Odysseus and Agamemnon, but neither king commented. The silence was deafening, until another voice broke it. Powerful and strong, the call made the soldiers turn once again.

 

“Agamemnon”

 

Achilles... Odysseus saw fury and hatred in the blue eyes, as his friend walked closer. Yet as their eyes met, the hard emotions softened for a moment. Standing close to the other man, Odysseus could see the tension in Achilles’ muscles, saw the violence that was barely tamed and inwardly he shivered.

 

“I have heard what you have done, Patroclus. You killed the prince of Troy under my name and wearing my armour. You dishonoured the armour that was made by the god of fire himself. You disgraced the name of Achilles...”

 

Odysseus saw how Patroclus paled, but even more he saw the heart break in the younger man’s eyes. He understood then that Patroclus had wanted more than to prove his worth as a warrior. For a moment Odysseus almost felt pity for the younger man, but then Hector’s noble face and the intelligent kind eyes flashed through his memory and with a shock he realized that it pained him to know that he would never see those eyes again.

 

“You claim that you did this all for me; well then I demand the spoils of this battle for my property.”

 

No one but Achilles would have the audacity to demand Hector’s body knowing that Agamemnon had claimed the armour and corpse already. And no other than Achilles could do so and live to tell the story. Looking at his friend, Odysseus wondered what the soldiers standing around them were seeing. Were they really seeing a human being or did they believe that they were already looking at a God?

 

Achilles stood tall, muscles bulging and his power that of a large wild cat lying in wait, poise and strength perfectly combined in a man. The sun was low and illuminated the blond long hair of the hero, the golden colour more than anything a gift from his godly mother. Right now, wearing nothing but the light armour he wore for practice he seemed more like a god than a man.

 

Odysseus knew that Achilles was human and yet looking at him right now, he was tempted to believe the tales himself.

 

“You did not want to fight, worse you refused to let your men fight, so why would you now want something that you have not gained?”

 

There was something epic about the fight between Agamemnon and Achilles and watching them now, Odysseus knew that there would many tales about this confrontation.

 

“Because Patroclus did not take my armour and my weapons to fight for Greece, he took them to show me his love.”

 

Achilles words brought a flush to Patroclus face and Odysseus saw how his eyes darkened as the one he adored publicly humiliated him. A shiver of dread ran through him as he saw how love died and hate was being born in Patroclus right at this moment.

 

“You may have the body and the weapon Achilles, but the armour and the horse are mine.”

 

Odysseus did not understand the relief he felt at those words, why would it make a difference and yet it was as if a heavy burden had fallen from his heart the moment Agamemnon granted Achilles’ wish. He felt Achilles’ hand on his back, steering him away from the group and followed his friend through the ring of soldiers towards the place where Hector’s body lay unattended and still bound to the carriage.

 

“There was no need to put yourself at risk like this.”

 

Achilles voice was friendly and yet Odysseus could hear more than a light question in his words.

 

“If the others had any honour in their hearts, they would have spoken too. How could they hail Patroclus for what he did?”

 

He knew he had reacted too strong when Achilles looked up from the dead hero, for a long time their eyes locked and then Achilles turned back to the Trojan to lift him up. Once at his tent, he asked his servant to fetch water and oils. He removed the armour gently and told yet servant to bring the rich and beautiful shield and breast plate to Agamemnon’s tent.

 

“May he wear it at war and feel the rage of the sun god.”

 

Odysseus’ eyes swept over the Trojan’s naked body against his will. A shiver ran through him and he had to force himself to look away, his heart beating fast as he realized that he had looked at Hector like he would have looked at a lover.

 

“What is it about the Prince of Troy that makes you react so strongly?”

 

The words caught him off guard and for once, he had no answer. Achilles stopped washing the body and looked at him.

 

“You are drawn to him, have been for a long time, I saw it the night after we came to these shores.”

 

The simple words were like daggers to his heart and he shook his head in denial, but to his surprise, Achilles smiled lightly and continued washing and then embalming the body before he covered Hector with a blue robe. Odysseus watched as his friend took the sword in his hands and put it next to the dead man, as if Hector were just sleeping and would reach for it once he woke up.

 

The fact that he never would do so made Odysseus’ heart clinch painfully.

 

“Your soul calls out to him.”

 

The strange words made Odysseus look up confused and he accepted the wine without another thought, before repeating the sentence.

 

“My soul calls out to him?”

 

“Yes, it does just as his was calling for yours.”

 

For a moment Achilles was silent, letting the impact of his words grow in Odysseus’ mind and heart. Odysseus’ hand shook as he put the wine down and looked over where Hector lay dead.

 

“Why did I not see it? Why did my dreams never show me his face?”

 

He remembered his dreams, dreams that had filled him with longing and desire, dreams in which he had given up control, had been free of his responsibilities, had forgotten about war and reality... He had loved in those dreams, had loved and had been loved like he had never felt before.

 

The love he had felt in his dreams had been so strong, so potent... it had made him long for it even during the day. And yet he had never seen his dream lover, had only dreamt of dark soulful eyes, of strong skilled hands and a body whose strength had been matching his.

 

“Why do you tell me this now? He is dead and I would have been better of not knowing.”

 

His words were desperate and he felt them deep inside his heart. Once again he looked over at the dead prince and shivered.

 

He would give anything to see those eyes again.

 

---

 

* October 2005, Aubonne, Switzerland*

 

“You know until today I still don’t understand why it took you so long to come back. I mean I have seen you being stabbed and shot a couple of times since, but you never had so long to recover.”

 

The words sounded carefree, but Hector felt the pain through their bond. Pain as Odysseus remembered how he had thought him lost. But the question his mate had asked was one, he could not answer.

 

“My theory is that I was killed twice, once by the dagger and second when I was dragged back to the camp and therefore needed more time to heal, but when I asked Daniel he told me that my soul somehow knew it had to wait until you had understood.”

 

Hector wanted to add something, when he saw the smile in Massimo’s eyes and looked at the writer with a smile of his own.

 

“You find us incredibly sappy, don’t you?”

 

But Massimo shook his head and to his surprise Hector saw something like jealousy in the dark intelligent eyes.

 

“No, I’m just amazed how you still love each other so much after all this time and most of us normal people can’t even manage a lifetime with one partner.”

 

Odysseus and Hector shared a look before answering and as he spoke Odysseus’ words were full of memories and remembered pain.

 

“In order to bond and gain eternity, we have to die and even if the turning is peaceful and loving, we still die and have to watch our mates die. And no one will ever forget the moment when the body dies and the seconds of insecurity if the turning worked. There is an instant of terror when the possibility of losing the other part of your soul is so real.”

 

---

 

*Around 1200 BC, Troy*

 

Achilles sat in silence after looking at his friend and seeing the despair in the green eyes, he knew that he had to tell Odysseus the truth but how?

 

How does one go and tell his best friend that Hector would wake up soon, that he would live again? Worse even how should he explain that he, Achilles, knew about Odysseus’ destiny, that he knew that his friend was destined to live at Hector’s side as his bonded mate?

 

In his mind he cursed Daniel for giving him this task and yet he understood why the ancient vampire had asked for this. He understood that Daniel did not want to interfere in this war and thus stayed away knowing about the fate of Troy and...

 

“Achilles”

 

He looked up at Patroclus’ voice and his eyes turned hard and cold at the sight of the man he’d considered a friend but now wondered if he wasn’t his worst enemy. He waved him in and immediately saw the heated look Patroclus sent Odysseus.

 

“What is he doing here?”

 

Achilles felt contempt rising in him at the harsh words, but anything he wanted to say died in his throat when Patroclus looked at him with hatred in his eyes.

 

“You wash the body of an enemy? What has happened to the Achilles I knew, the man I loved? Where is the ruthless warrior who loved me?”

 

His mother had warned him, had told him that his destiny did not lay with Patroclus, but he hadn’t listened to her and now that he saw her wisdom it was too late. He looked at Patroclus and slowly, clearly told the younger man the truth.

 

“That man never existed, that man was a creation of your fantasy. We were never lovers; all we did was share a bed... You do not know me. Leave my tent now; I do not want to see you again.”

 

Patroclus stared at him for a moment, but he did not have the strength to withstand the power of Achilles’ eyes and so he turned, yet at the threshold of the tent he turned back again.

 

“You will pay for your betrayal.”

 

Achilles shook his head sadly and looked at Odysseus. His friend had followed the exchange and his eyes were shadowed with concern.

 

“You will have to watch your back.”

 

Achilles wanted to laugh at the warning, but he remembered Hector’s fate and the laughter died in his throat.

 

“I will”

 

---

 

* October 2005, Aubonne, Switzerland*

 

“So Achilles knew before you did?”

 

Massimo was fascinated. He still remembered the first time his mother spoken of the Greek and Roman heroes and when he closed his eyes he could almost smell the sweet scent of Christmas cookies that had perpetrated the house. He remembered his mother sitting down next to him and telling him that he was a big boy now and that she would no longer tell him fairy tales of princes and princesses, instead she would tell him about the heroes and villains, kings and beggars that had lived long before their time and had with their crimes and their deeds shaped his country and its culture.

 

Growing older, he had often wondered why those stories never seemed to grow old, why he never tired of them. Looking at the two vampires on the couch, he understood that the reason was in the deep humanity of those stories, where even the gods were fallible and carried the human stain.

 

The stories had never lost their magic for him and now listening to the real version, he was ten years old again and sitting on his mother’s lap eating Christmas cookies and dreaming of a mythical world.

 

“He was a chosen one of Hector’s sire although I did not know this, just as I didn’t know that Daniel had been at the Oracle of Delphi and had received a prophecy that both Hector and Paris would find their mates at the other side of the war.”

 

Massimo shook his head, suddenly wondering how much of the world’s history had been recorded wrong, because the people were not ready to believe in vampires. Then another thought shook him.

 

“So was it Patroclus who killed Achilles?”

 

The two men glanced at each other, then Odysseus shrugged.

 

“He was the reason why Paris turned him, but he was not the reason Achilles died after he was bonded to Paris.”

 

He had heard about the fate of Hector’s brother. It had been Marc Anthony who had told him telling him about the vampire who had killed her own sire and he had heard the disgust and thirst for revenge in the voice of Sanguen’s leader. It had been yet another example of how violent the world of the vampires was and how many of their rules still were as old as the rulers themselves.

 

Looking at the two vampires he saw the love between them and wondered about the duality of the love and violence, but as he saw Hector’s curious eyes on him, he shook his head.

 

“Just thinking”

 

Odysseus smiled and snuggled closer into the arms of his mate, before he once again closed his eyes and let his memory take him back to the tent, back to the friend he lost later, back to the city he would burn.

 

---

 

*Around 1200 BC, Troy*

 

Odysseus had followed the exchange between Patroclus and Achilles with growing dread, he had felt the hatred in the other man’s aura, had seen it in his eyes and with a shiver he had realized that his real enemy wasn’t waiting for him on the battlefield, sleeping in the tent right next to him.

 

“Honourless coward”

 

Achilles comment made him smile for a moment, but at the same time he felt the urge to warn his friend again, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing him to Patroclus games too. And just like this the knowledge that he had lost someone precious without even knowing that person was back and he shivered at the pain that thought woke in him.

 

“Odysseus, there was something I wanted to tell you before Patroclus came into the tent. There is something you have to know and understand.”

 

The urgency in Achilles’ voice made him look up and he felt himself captured in the intensity of those blue eyes. They were filled with emotions caring, friendship, sadness but most of all there was determination.

 

“What do I have to understand?”

 

Achilles took a deep breath and then spoke four words that would change Odysseus’ world forever.

 

“Hector is not dead.”

 

It was a sick joke and with a shudder, he looked at his friend only to see the honesty there and before he could say anything, Achilles continued to speak.

 

“He died but he cannot die, not permanently, because he kind of is already dead and so he will wake up soon and...”

 

Odysseus didn’t understand anything and his confusion showed in his eyes as Achilles stopped slightly frustrated and finally just simply blurted the truth out.

 

“Hector is a vampire.”

 

Odysseus wanted to scream and shout at Achilles for still not taking him serious, for still making jokes, but again he saw nothing but honesty and truth in those blue eyes and silently he repeated the words.

 

“A vampire”

 

His eyes were locked in the determined stare and he suddenly realized that he was ready to believe Achilles, ready to believe what he had heard because if it was true, then Hector would not be dead.

 

And yet vampires? He had heard tales of men dead yet alive, their existence defying the order that the gods had created, he had listened to those tales when singers in his palace had spoken of them and had dismissed them as fables.

 

Now he sat in a tent and wished against his mind that those fable were true.

 

“Vampires exist; they are no myth, no fables, Odysseus. They are real.”

 

A sudden thought occurred him then and tensing slightly he looked at his friend.

 

“Are you?”

 

Achilles smiled and shook his head.

 

“No I’m not a vampire, but I am a Chosen One. I protect them, donate my blood if needed or make sure that they won’t be detected.”

 

Odysseus felt himself starting to believe, but he didn’t understand why Achilles told him this.

 

“Why do you tell me this?”

 

Achilles hesitated for a moment, before he decided to wait until he could tell Odysseus the full truth, instead gave him an answer that was at least half true.

 

“Your fate is tied with Hector’s. Your paths will merge one day.”

 

Odysseus wasn’t prepared for the whirl of emotions Achilles’ words woke in him, had never experienced such a storm of longing and fear and his voice shook as finally spoke again.

 

“What can I do?”

 

Achilles looked at him for a long time and it seemed to Odysseus as if his friend was weighing his words very carefully. It made him slightly nervous, but then Achilles smiled.

 

“Right now, there is nothing you can do.”

 

The Greek’s voice trailed off and Odysseus waited, somehow knowing that Achilles hadn’t finished saying whatever he wanted to say...

 

“Wait here for me and when I come back, I will explain everything to you.”

 

Odysseus got up when Achilles moved over to where Hector’s body lay and without thinking he reached out and ran his hand over the angular face. The skin was cold to touch and yet it woke a deep longing in his body. But the emotion was tamed, because somehow deep in his heart, he knew that he would see Hector again.

 

It was enough, he thought as his eyes followed Achilles as the Greek hero made his way away from the camp and towards Troy to bring the fallen son home.

 

He would see the other man again and even though he didn’t understand where this knowledge came from, he knew it to be true. Odysseus walked back to his tent, waiting for his friend to come back.

 

He never saw the tall dark haired woman stand on the dune above his tent. Her friend had asked her to watch over his child’s mate and she had agreed. Illuminated by the moon and stars, her white dress glowing in the faint light she looked more like a fantasy, than a real person more like an ethereal being than the powerful creature she was.

 

Those who saw her would say tomorrow that Athena had visited the camp again at night and that they had seen her watching over Odysseus’ tent.

 

It was yet another warning, they would say, a warning that Odysseus was protected by the goddess herself.

 

---

 

+Chapter 3+

 

* October 2005, Aubonne, Switzerland*

 

“Who was she?”

 

Odysseus smiled.

 

“Lady Heather, although she wasn’t called that when I met her.”

 

Intrigued Massimo prompted him to go on.

 

“What was her name then?”

 

“Nephthys”

 

For a moment, the Italian writer was silent, and then he looked at the two ancient beings.

 

“So, were all the God’s vampires?”

 

Hector had come back during the conversation and sat down next to Odysseus. He shook his head.

 

“No, they weren’t. For us back then, the Gods were as real as your God is real. We saw their intervention in signs like the weather or birds. We explained everything we couldn’t explain by their powers and their doing.”

 

He shrugged a bit.

 

“Lady Heather was a powerful woman already back then and her aura led them to believe that she was Athena. And since Odysseus had always been called a favourite of hers, it was a logical conclusion for them. Athena was in the Greek camp to warn the men that the King of Ithaca was under her protection.”

 

“Of course, Lady Heather knew and counted on this... She has always been good at reading and understanding people.”

 

Massimo smiled, he had heard much of the female vampire, yet he had never met her and if he was honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Lady Heather sounded like someone, he would love to meet and yet at the same time she scared him to death.

 

“So Achilles brought you to some Chosen One’s.”

 

Hector and Odysseus shared a look before the Trojan shook his head.

 

“He wanted to take me there, but before he reached them, he met Paris.”

 

He had heard much about Hector’s brother and had seen the ambivalence in the ancient vampire every time he talked about the fabled prince. Hector had clearly loved his brother, but at the same time, he had tried to understand the recklessness that had driven his younger brother, had even found he could forgive him the carelessness about his city, his people...

 

“Paris told me later, he had realized as soon as he’d seen him that Achilles was his mate. But he couldn’t accept the fact that a Greek man would be the one destined for him... So he turned his back on Achilles and went back to Helena...”

 

---

 

*Around 1200 BC, Troy*

 

He had been wrong, Hector thought as he watched the fighters from afar, had been wrong in thinking that the hours in between the fights were the worst about a war.

 

No, there was something worse than those hours that were spent with strategies and politics. It was watching a battle without being able to interfere. So many times, since he had ‘died’, had he wanted to leave and yet he knew that he couldn’t. He was bound to this place, this city and the one man who carried the other half of his soul.

 

“Do you regret it?”

 

Soft words came from behind and he turned to look at the dark haired woman standing next to a large boulder. He smiled at Nephthys and shook his head.

 

“No”

 

She didn’t say anything, just continued to look at him until he turned away, his eyes moving over the sight of destruction and death. A shiver ran through him and he admitted that he hadn’t imagined his life like this.

 

“I was supposed to be the one who would defend Troy. Now I am watching my city fall into ruin and cannot do anything.”

 

Nephthys walked over to him and he felt her stand next to him, her mere presence full of power and wisdom soothing him as her hand grabbed his and they both looked towards the city.

 

“It’s the course of the world, Hector. Empires must fall so that new ones can rise. Such is this world and it is good for it ensures the survival of the people and the planet.”

 

He remained silent, knowing very well that her words were true and that she herself had experienced what he did now. Nephthys had seen her world fall into ashes and fade into memory and myth, but as he watched the fierce attack and saw his men fall, his heart ached for the only place he had ever called home.

 

“You don’t have to stay here, Tamer of Horses, I will watch over your mate and make sure that no harm befalls him.”

 

Her offer surprised him and as he looked at her, he saw deep compassion in her eyes. Gently she reached out and caressed his face not in a lover’s caress, but soothing as if she was trying to calm a young horse.

 

“No one should watch his home burn.”

 

Hector shivered at her words and the security she spoke them in. It was true then, Troy’s fate was decided. Again his eyes were drawn towards the mighty walls and the houses behind. It was tempting to say yes and leave, but as his eyes moved back to the battle field, he saw a tall man fighting with skill and grace and he knew that he couldn’t leave.

 

“I cannot leave him.”

 

Once again, he looked at her, hoping that she would not be insulted at his rejection, but her eyes were full of understanding and sadness.

 

“I know”

 

She ran her hand over his face once more before she turned and left him alone. She knew that he would not move until the fight had ended for the day. She knew it because he had stood at this spot for every day since he died three years ago. And she knew that he would watch his mate for another day filled with longing and pain, but unable to do anything as long as this cursed war was going on.

 

---

 

* October 2005, Aubonne, Switzerland*

 

It wasn’t late but the days had become shorter with the arrival of autumn and so Hector saw nothing but his own reflection as he stared out of the window. Certain things were hard to tell even now after all this time and he cursed himself for agreeing on it.

 

“Are you alright, love?”

 

Hector felt his mate walk up behind him and smiled when strong arms embraced him and he leaned back against the strong body. Three thousand years and he still felt that spark of excitement every time Odysseus touched him.

 

He felt Odysseus’ concern and turned around, his eyes quickly scanning the room; he saw that Massimo had left already.

 

“He said he needed a smoke after all this information.”

 

Odysseus leaned in and nibbled at his neck, making him moan with pleasure as the tender caress woke his love and desire.

 

“I have a feeling that he will write this down, even though he won’t publish any of it.”

 

Hector smiled at the comment, but his thoughts were on other matters and he shivered as he recalled the words that Lady Nephthys had spoken to him so long ago.

 

“Empires must fall, so that new ones can grow.”

 

Odysseus’ hand stilled at the mumbled words and Hector met his eyes in the reflection of the window, he saw the concern and the questions and silently told his mate what had occupied his thoughts for a while now.

 

“We have seen so many empires fall, so many powers that everyone believed to be indestructible crumbled and nothing but dust remained...”

 

Their eyes still locked they remembered all those great empires they had seen falling. Rome, Greece, Macedonia... and Odysseus spoke what Hector had not said.

 

“And you’re wondering when it will happen again.”

 

Hector nodded and a shiver went through his body.

 

“And at what cost”

 

---

 

*Around 1200 BC, Troy*

 

The pain raced through him unexpectedly and he collapsed onto the ground. It was a blinding pain, something he had never felt, not even all those years ago when his body had died and changed.

 

“Hector?”

 

He saw Nephthys lean over him, heard her speak but he could not understand what the ancient vampire told him, couldn’t hear over the roar in his ears and suddenly he knew that this pain was and forcing his limbs to move he got up and ran to his watch point.

 

He was frozen as he took in the scene on the field underneath him.

 

The carriage of the King of Ithaca was empty and turned over; one horse lying dead next to it, the second one howling in pain. Hector shivered at the sight of the body next to the dead horse. The warrior was not moving and Hector could see the blood flow from the chest wound. Odysseus was heavily injured and Hector saw the fear in Diomedes’ eyes as the Greek warrior carried his friend and comrade in arms to his own carriage, he saw the other man stumble with the weight but refusing to release the hold on the injured friend.

 

“Go and save him”

 

Dark eyes met his, gave permission and without another thought, he mounted his horse and rode down following Diomedes as the other man made his way to the Greek camp.

 

“You have to pull through, Odysseus! We need you in the field, in the camp...”

 

Hector heard Diomedes’ desperate pleas against the background of slow, feeble heartbeats and he moved closer to the tent that held his mate. He needed to get in there, felt the life gradually fade from Odysseus and shivered as he suddenly realized that if Diomedes stayed in there, he might not be able to save his mate. Not paying attention to where he was, his entire soul and mind focused on the dying man behind the white cloth, Hector didn’t notice the tall man standing behind him until a hand gripped his shoulder hard.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

The blue in the other man’s eyes captured him and Hector knew immediately who was standing opposite him. He might have never battled the Greek hero himself, but he had watched enough fights ever since to know who the blond, tall man was.

 

“Achilles”

 

For a moment, the warrior looked at him, then a quick smile crossed his face, before he nodded in greeting.

 

“Hector of Troy”

 

He said it so casually, that it took Hector a moment to register, that Achilles was not shocked to see him, neither was he scared or surprised. It dawned then and he knew that Achilles had been the mysterious stranger who’d brought him back, the man who had troubled his brother’s sleep and who had turned Paris into an even worse playboy than he had been before.

 

“You know what I am”

 

It was a statement of the facts and so he continued after a moment of silence.

 

“And you know why I am here”

 

The blue eyes turned brighter and for a long time, the other man just looked at Hector. There were no emotions or if there were Hector couldn’t read them. It was slightly disconcerting to see the perfect mask, yet just as he was about to turn away, the mask slipped and for a second he saw a deep sadness and longing in Achilles’ eyes.

 

“You are here to save your mate.”

 

Nephthys had referred to Odysseus as his mate many times, and he had called the other man that name when he’d thought of him, but to hear Achilles say it made it somehow even more real and Hector shivered both at the longing and the joy from that thought.

 

“You will turn him.”

 

Again it was a statement and again Hector nodded. For a moment, Achilles seemed contemplative, then he looked right into Hector’s eyes.

 

“There is something you need to see before.”

 

Walking away from the tent was the hardest Hector had ever done, but he had seen the seriousness in Achilles glance and with a heavy heart he followed him. The Greek walked away from the camp and towards the back of the shore until he stopped in front of a wooden sculpture.

 

“This is a wooden horse, which is being built upon suggestion of Odysseus of Ithaca.”

 

Not understanding, what Achilles meant, Hector stood motionless and waited for the other man to continue. Achilles looked at him and with a heavy sigh; he opened the hidden door at the belly of the horse, pointing into the vast empty space.

 

“When it is finished, it will be the means of Troy’s destruction.”

 

He understood then, both what the horse represented and what Achilles wanted him to see and he turned away in pain. His mate would be the one whose idea would ultimately breach the walls of Troy, Odysseus name would be forever linked with the burning of the golden city.

 

“I never asked for this fate and yet it seems to have been the Gods will that I am not able to protect my home.”

 

Hector watched the waves rolling in softly as the tide turned and felt Achilles stand next to him. The powerful warrior was silent as he put one hand on Hector’s back in a gesture of comfort and support that touched Hector deeply.

 

“If you turn him, then you will have to put aside any blame. You cannot see an enemy in him, cannot hold him responsible for the course of history.”

 

He knew that the other man was right and as he nodded, he had made his decision.

 

“My soul calls out to him, he may have been an enemy a long time ago, but Hector of Troy died when Patroclus killed him in the field. I have no right to defend my city anymore.”

 

One tear fell then, one tear for those in the city that he still loved, those that were of his blood. But at the same time, he felt his soul being torn back to the tent, the need more urgent now as he could feel his mate’s strength fading.

 

“Promise you will not leave him once you see your city burn.”

 

This time it was Hector who fixed Odysseus with his eyes as he gave his promise to the Greek hero.

 

“I promise”

 

They walked back to the tent in silence, Hector once again hiding behind the folds as Achilles stopped him.

 

“Wait here, I will send Diomedes away. Do not move until I call you in.”

 

Hector heard the soft footsteps as Achilles walked away, then the soft voices that soon turned into angry whispers as Diomedes refused to leave Odysseus’ side. It was a test of his discipline to listen to the argument, while hearing Odysseus’ heart beat slow down even more, but finally Achilles opened the back of the tent and let him in. The light was beckoning him, but Hector hesitated, he knew that if he stepped into the warm tent, there would be no turning back, knew that Odysseus would be the one to ultimately choose if he wanted to live or die.

 

And Hector feared that the Greek might prefer to die then being bound to a Trojan.

 

“Don’t be a coward now”

 

The words were insulting, but Hector saw the understanding in Achilles’ eyes and had he not been too preoccupied with his mate, he would have asked, but as soon as he stepped into the tent, his eyes fell on the wounded man on the makeshift bed.

 

“No”

 

It was a mere whisper as he got down on his knees next to Odysseus, caressing the pale skin, brushing the wet hair from the sweaty, yet clammy forehead. Odysseus reacted to his touch, moved his body restlessly and a pained moan escaped his lips as the movement hurt his injured side. Gently, tenderly Hector tried to calm his mate down, whispering soothing words and caressing the soft hair.

 

“Odysseus, look at me”

 

He trembled inside as he saw the faint flutter of Odysseus’s eyelids, saw how even that small movement seemed to take all his strength.

 

“Don’t die on me, please, don’t leave me alone”

 

The words slipped out against his will and for a moment he closed his eyes gathering his control, as he opened them again, he was looking into the green eyes of his mate. It wasn’t the brilliant green of his dreams, but the sight still took his breath away.

 

“Hector”

 

One word only, but there was so much emotion in that one single word, that Hector had to swallow hard and fight not to let his tears fall. Odysseus tried to reach out, but he was too weak to lift his hand and so Hector took the cold weak hand into his own strong one, holding it tight as he looked again at the other half of his soul.

 

“I was wondering, if you had left me or if you would come for me.”

 

The surprise that Odysseus knew who he was registered in the back of his mind, but as with Achilles he didn’t question it, just pressed the hand in his tighter as he slowly asked the one question he dreaded the answer to.

 

“You are dying Odysseus; I can offer you eternity...”

 

He trailed off, not knowing what to say, but again Odysseus beat him as the green eyes suddenly glittered for a second, before going dim again.

 

“Eternity with you”

 

This time he was shocked and his hand shook as he brushed yet another strand of hair of his mate’s forehead.

 

“How do you know this?”

 

The shadow of a smile ghosted around Odysseus’ lips before he looked at Achilles who stood behind them.

 

“I saw you in my dreams, every night and even at day time. Then I saw you die and Achilles explained to me who you are, what you are and who we can be.”

 

Gratefulness for the Greek warrior swept through Hector as he leaned in close enough for them to kiss and quickly tasted Odysseus for the first time.

 

“Will you give me consent? Will you give me consent not only to turn you but to be your mate for eternity?”

 

The light that shone in Odysseus’ eyes was full of warmth and love and with his last strength he gripped his mate’s hand as he nodded.

 

“I do”

 

---

 

* October 2005, Aubonne, Switzerland*

 

Tears were glittering in Hector’s eyes as his voice trailed off... No matter how many times he recounted the story, the fear he’d felt back then was still present, still sharp even in memory.

 

“I thought I would loose you back then.”

 

Odysseus’ arms were tight around him and with a sigh, he leaned back and nodded.

 

“You almost did. I didn’t have much left in me, it was just this knowledge inside my heart that kept me hanging on. I knew you would come and I couldn’t stand the thought of your pain...”

 

---

 

*Around 1200 BC, Troy*

 

Hector couldn’t believe the closeness, the love he felt, when he looked at the sleeping man next to him. The turning had taken the last of Odysseus’ strength and as the last of the convulsions had shaken his body he had collapsed into Hector’s arms with a pained moan.

 

Achilles stood next to the bed and helped him cleaning his mate, then draped his friend in a new, clean tunic and finally led Hector towards the end of the camp, where his horse and carriage stood. Holding the unconscious man in his arms, Hector looked at the Greek warrior who was supposedly his worst enemy and yet had revealed himself to be his closest ally.

 

“Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

 

He saw the smile that crossed the other man’s face and Achilles pointed towards the horse next to him.

 

“I will join you, when he wakes he will need blood.”

 

A rush of warm affection ran through him at this simple and friendly answer, but Hector shook his head. He was sure that by now, Nephthys had prepared everything for their arrival and with a smile he told Achilles so. The blond warrior nodded and bent down to kiss Odysseus’ forehead before he looked at Hector again.

 

“If you ever need me, let me know...”

 

For a moment he looked over the Greek camp unsure if he should continue, but finally looking at the two men again, he spoke what had been in his mind from the moment he’d met the other prince of Troy.

 

“And if your brother ever accepts his fate, tell him that I wait for him.”

 

Hector froze for a moment, then memories of Paris’ behaviour rose in his mind and with a deep sigh he shook his head. Looking sadly at Achilles he nodded, he saw the deep longing in the warrior’s eyes and the image kept in his eyes for the entire long ride over to the mountains and his hideaway.

 

The man... no vampire in his arms moaned and shivered, and instinctively, Hector pressed Odysseus closer to his body. He was torn between wanting to shelter the beloved man and kiss him senselessly. The turning had been powerful; Odysseus’ presence had almost overwhelmed him and he could feel the longing for his mate deep inside his body.

 

“Hector”

 

Odysseus’ eyes were open and Hector’s breath caught at the sight of those green eyes glowing with love and something more. Again his mate shivered and with a tender caress, he tried to soothe and calm him, relieved when they were finally at the caves. He brought his mate to the chamber he’d lived in and softly laid him onto the bed, as he saw Nephthys standing in the entrance.

 

“Where are we?”

 

“Long before Troy, there were people living here and they’re houses in the mountains still exist. I have been living up here and watching you ever since I died.”

 

He saw how Odysseus looked around and realized that the new vampire blinked rapidly. Still caressing his mate’s face, he leaned in and kissed him quickly, before he continued to explained about enhanced senses and the way to control them. He stopped when Odysseus gasped.

 

“Athena”

 

Nephthys smiled and calmly leaned down to kiss his forehead.

 

“No, Odysseus, I am not the goddess, but you have seen me before. I was watching over you until it was your time to become what fate decided for you a long time ago.”

 

She held out a cup with blood and Hector slowly gave it to his mate, saw how the surprise and shock registered in Odysseus’ eyes before he took the cup and drank it down. Hunger was clear in his eyes now and Nephthys refilled the cup before handing it over once again.

 

“I know nothing about this life.”

 

Odysseus’ voice was rough and slightly insecure, but Nephthys caressed his face like a mother and looked at him gently.

 

“You will learn fast, Odysseus, King of Ithaca and both I and Hector will help you.”

 

Hector send a reproachful glance at the older vampire as she mentioned Odysseus’ position and true to his fears, the Greek paled and sat up with a pained look in his face.

 

“I am dead, aren’t I? The Greek will think that and they will send someone to tell my family... Will I ever see them again?”

 

Jealousy flared within Hector at the thought of the woman waiting for his mate, but he forced himself to relax and looking at Odysseus he tried to calm the other man’s fear.

 

“You will see them again; once the war is over we will sail there and ...”

 

He broke off with a gasp as Odysseus’ hand was suddenly on his face, caressing his cheek, running over his jaw to his neck and over the collarbone to his shoulder. Longing unlike he had known filled him and with a tremble he stopped the teasing hand.

 

“Odysseus, we have to talk”

 

But his mate only smiled and tugged hard at his tunic so that the cloth fell from Hector’s body, Odysseus’ gasp resonated through the chamber and Hector shivered at the lust he saw in those green eyes.

 

“Stop, please... You have to understand something...”

 

But instead of stopping Odysseus moved on the bed to make room for the older vampire and with a heavy sigh Hector followed the invitation, but he kept his distance from the seductive vampire. It hurt him; hurt him almost physically, but he knew that he had to make Odysseus understand that if they took this step, they wouldn’t be able to go back afterwards... Hector felt shivers of fear in his body and startled as he felt soft hands on his face.

 

“I understand Hector; don’t you realize I feel it too? I was drawn to you before, but now I can feel you, I can feel your blood in me and yet I know that it is not enough, we’re not close enough...”

 

Odysseus moved and removed the tunic that Achilles had dressed him in, Hector moaned at the sight of the muscled and yet slender body.

 

“Your family”

 

His mate stopped him from speaking and smiled gently.

 

“I will see them again and I will explain to them what has happened. Odysseus, the King of Ithaca died, but I will always watch over them from afar, just as you did watch over me...”

 

He leaned in and brushed against Hector’s lips. Hector immediately captured his mate and claimed him in a kiss that was full of longing and love. When they drew back they were both shivering with need and Odysseus smiled for a second.

 

“Handy this not needing to breathe...”

 

Then he grew serious again.

 

“I love you Hector and I want to be as close as we can.”

 

Hector couldn’t help himself as he rolled them over, so that he was covering his mate and lover with his body.

 

“Soon, Odysseus, we will be together soon.”

 

He looked up as long, graceful fingers came up to frame his face, to pull him close, and Hector sighed with contentment as his lover aligned his body, rolling them to the side, facing one another.

 

Despite the longing he had felt ever since he had met Odysseus in the first battle of this war, their love making progressed slowly. Hector revelled in the slide from wonder into grace into need and desire, where hands reached for naked skin, fingers stroking out and rhythms that increased as the desire and love flared between them. There was a breathless moment when their hands touched and entwined over his chest, the touch alone sent a shiver up Hector’s spine and left his lips parted, only to find his mate’s tongue slipping between them to send a moister version of the same caress along the inside of his cheek.

 

Hector closed his eyes briefly during the kiss, giving in to the feeling of Odysseus’ fingers dancing along the skin of his waist, dragging upward and sending all sensation in the opposite direction.

 

Sun kissed skin, always the colour of the sand and the sun, now took on an added glow from the fire, shining like gold while the blond hair shone in the flickering flames almost red. For a moment Hector almost feared to touch Odysseus afraid that he would burn his hand on that glowing skin.

 

Not aware of his lover’s thoughts Odysseus turned and returned the touches and caresses. Urgency and reverence drove his hands to map out the body he had seen in his dreams so often, he had longed for so long. He felt humbled as he realized that the barest touch prompted his lover to arch toward him as he traced his lips over the bronzed skin. Hector gasped when his lover looked at him and moaned as Odysseus whispered endearments and love words onto his skin

 

“You look so beautiful, like someone carved you from marble... I dreamed of you and saw how your body glowed and the light danced on it every time you moved.”

 

Hector couldn’t lie still anymore and his hand reached out to touch the hard silken flesh that rose, liquid already seeping, pearly in the dim light and moved to kiss Odysseus, savouring the taste of his lover and felt his mate’s fingers thread through his hair in a soft caress, encouraging, pleading, and he pushed gently.

 

The faintest application of pressure, of suction, had Odysseus arching upward, a moan of pleasure on his lips. Hector smiled against his skin before swallowed whole length of him deep inside.

 

“Stop, Hector, please stop”

 

He groaned as he withdrew and looked at his lover questioningly.

 

“Not yet, I need to touch you, to claim you.”

 

Hector saw the longing to be bonded and felt the same urge in his body and without a word lay back opening himself up to his mate, giving over control and moaned as Odysseus immediately licked the sensitive skin in his neck. He felt seared, enflamed, all but taken over by the heat and sensation as at the same time one finger prodded at his entrance and immediately the tight ring of muscle yielded and Odysseus caressed him outside and inside.

 

“Take me now, please I need you.”

 

He opened his eyes to see his lover’s looking at him, asking for permission and with a moan he nodded. The slide into his body was incredible, the feeling of being whole brought tears to his eyes. Hector shuddered at the love he saw in his mate’s and their eyes locked as Odysseus asked for the last permission without words.

 

He bared his neck and groaned in pleasure and love as Odysseus’ fangs slid into his skin and he felt blood rushing from his body to his mates. Odysseus threw back and once again their eyes locked before simultaneously, they both leaned in, sharing not only their bodies but also their blood.

 

The bond tightened, flared and glowed for a moment, passion and pleasure were suspended in time before they came crashing down and with shouts of the other’s name got lost in their love.

 

---