Why am I even *posting* this...?
May. 17th, 2004 10:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clo_againBrief backstory; Last year... no; two years ago now I was starting on my Classical Civilisation course with around sixteen other innocent students (and a few not so innocent ones who'd already done one year of the course and were coming back to resit it). We began with The Odyssey, a fine epic tale of struggle and love and endurance. Mentions of woman/swan sex in some myths disturbed us briefly only to be forgotten when we reached Book 10 of The Odyssey and found... Odysseus basically eyeing up the cute, young, male god Hermes. And our classics teacher said "Well it was considered okay."
And my never-ending love for Classics was born.
And now coming up to my final exams I've discovered the best way to revise both The Odyssey and The Aeneid is to write fanfiction about them. Beginning with that favourite scene of Odysseus/Hermes. Proabably (hopefully) over the next month an entire series of classical slash fic should be appearing here as I make every attempt to revise with dignity. Or, uh, not.
And so I present the unedited, rough Odysseus/Hermes pairing... (Apparently these muses want to have had a history so this came out as a sort of middle-scene/encounter. Expect an earlier meeting to appear at some point.)
Title: Prettiest Eyes
Fandom: Classical (The Odyssey)
Rating: Oh... around PG-13ish.
Pairing: Odysseus/Hermes
Summary: Odysseus is on his way to save his crew from Circe when he meets Hermes in the forest. Set during Book 10 of The Odyssey.
Prettiest Eyes
Odysseus inwardly fumed as he stalked through the forest, leaving Eurylochus behind on the beach. The coward! Suspected a trap… I should have known better than place him in charge. He has well-honed instincts when it came to saving his pretty skin but ask him to look after twenty-two others and what does he do?
“Feeds them to a cursed witch!” Odysseus spat the thought aloud. He took a deep breath to calm himself and his hand dropped to his sword hilt at his hip. It caressed the worn leather lovingly. He had walked unscathed from Troy. A little island witch would be child’s play.
“Confident aren’t you?” The honey-sweet tone was laced with bitter sarcasm and Odysseus turned to see a golden figure leaning against a tree. His tunic was barely long enough to be decent, sliding over bronzed thighs like liquid, the material the shimmering white favoured by the gods. Odysseus felt himself smile inadvertently and cursed himself for it.
“My lord,” he said softly, dropping to one knee, wincing as he knelt on a sharp rock. “How may I serve you?”
“Come now Odysseus,” Hermes replied mischievously, leaning down to take the warrior’s hand and drawing him to his feet. “Always so formal! Are we not past that?” His hand lingered at the nape of Odysseus’ neck, drawing a shiver from the man. “Athene sends her love.”
“Given permission for you to play with her favourite has she?” The words dropped like knives from Odysseus’ lips. “So nice of the gods to share their toys.”
Hermes’ hand tightened on his neck and Odysseus gritted his teeth, regretting the outburst. He watched, helpless in the divine grip as the god’s expression darkened. Shadows flowed under the sun-kissed skin; the golden curls around his face now hung tangled and black. His turquoise eyes bore down on Odysseus’ defiant gaze.
“So reckless little warrior,” Hermes said quietly. “If it were not for the will of Zeus I could kill you where you stand with no more than a single breath.” There was genuine anger behind the threat, revealing itself in the faintest tremble of Hermes’ hand. “You would lament your words in the darkest reaches of the Underworld.”
Odysseus was silent, partly due to the fierce grip on the back of his neck and partly because he knew Hermes’ temper. If he spoke up wrongly now the god could kill him just on a whim and take the consequences as they came. Blue eyes met turquoise; for an inestimable moment there was a mute battle of wills. Abruptly Hermes released him, taking a step back.
“Athene would never forgive me,” he said ruefully. The gold leached back into his hair, dispersed the shadows that had briefly laced his skin. Odysseus exhaled the breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. “You, my dear mortal are entirely too provoking for your own good health.”
“I try my best,” Odysseus replied, trying to look non-committal as he leaned against a tree to keep himself upright. The hand gripping his sword hilt was white-knuckled and the smile he forced to his lips was a faint parody of his usual mocking grin. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint now would I?”
“Hhhmm.” Hermes caught up the warrior’s free hand again and brought it up to eye level to study the rough skin with disapproval. “If you truly believed that you’d take better care of yourself. You know I prefer soft hands.”
“Apologies my lord,” Odysseus said softly, turning the captive hand to cup the god’s chin. “I shall try my best to please you better next time.”
“This time isn’t over yet.” Hermes tilted his head to kiss Odysseus’ palm. “You still have time to assuage my disappointment.”
“Of course my lord.” Odysseus kept his touch light and teasing as he skimmed rough fingertips across the golden cheek. “As always, I shall do my best.” He traced the line of a downy eyebrow, watching black lashes fall over the glittering turquoise pools. Hermes moaned softly as the warrior brought his other hand up to run through the golden curls.
“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Hermes murmured as Odysseus was on the brink of kissing him. The warrior froze, the hand in the god’s hair tightening inadvertently. Hermes growled in protest but Odysseus ignored it.
“Do I have any choice my lord?” The warrior drew back slightly, face blank and calm. “I am merely a mortal. I should never have questioned the conduct and wishes of the gods.”
“You paid for it.” The silence was heavy for a moment as Hermes traced an invisible line across Odysseus’ breastplate; following the pale scar beneath. “Athene likes her puppets obedient.”
“And you?” Odysseus asked boldly, fully aware his grip on the golden curls was forcing the god’s head back but not bothering to let go. “How does the Almighty Hermes like his puppets to be?”
“Hhhmm.” Hermes’ grin was wicked and his eyes looked more silvery than turquoise as he met Odysseus’ gaze. “I like them brash…” He turned to kiss the inside of the arm holding his hair. “… And cunning…” Another kiss, further up by the shoulder. “… Reckless…” The third kiss brushed the warrior’s rough stubbled chin. “And very, very willing to please.” The divine mouth closed on Odysseus’.
“And I thought I was perfect until that last one.” Teasingly Odysseus pulled back a few inches. “If my lord finds me lacking in some way-“
“Shut up and kiss me. That’s an order.” Hermes pushed Odysseus back against a tree, divine power undoing the buckles on his armour. “Not even you would dare deny the gods more than once cunning Odysseus.”
All thought of resistance was fading fast as the god’s warm lips mapped his throat but with an immense force of will Odysseus managed to turn his head. “Circe…”
“Will wait. This is more important.” Hermes gave the answer with the utter confidence of a god who is used to being obeyed. Odysseus groaned deep in his throat and leaned over to kiss the god again. There was no one to see the spark of rebellion in his blue eyes as he slid the tunic from the golden shoulders but it remained until his eyes slid closed and he began to kiss his way slowly, teasingly downwards.
Much later, when the echoes of their cries had faded and the sun caressing Odysseus’ naked back was cooling, they lay tangled together in the soft leaves. Hermes blinked lazily over at the warrior from his position of graceful recline. Odysseus was too tired to do more than quirk a curious eyebrow in reply.
“I was meant to give you this.” A flick of a hand and the slender fingers held a leafy flower. Odysseus took it with caution; Hermes had been known to give trick gifts that turned into snakes or spiders when touched. Two white fang scars on his left wrist were testament to his first-hand knowledge.
“This is moly,” the warrior frowned, relaxing as the flower remained a flower. Milky white petals glimmered under the gloom of the forest canopy. “This is a dangerous planet for mortal men.”
“Only for them to dig up and I have done that for you. You are here to free your men are you not? I’ll save you the trouble of staying there with them. This herb will make you immune to the evil of Circe’s drug; she will try in vain to enchant you while you have it.” Hermes smirked, insufferably smug. Odysseus shifted a little in irritation but they were entwined together and the god easily held him still. “Behave warrior or I’ll leave you to the witch’s wiles. She will strike you with her long stick after you have drunk her potion; draw your sword and rush her as though you mean to kill her.” The smirk widened as Hermes ran a hand down Odysseus’ body. “She will fall to the ground in terror and invite you to her bed. You must accept.”
“Oh I must?” Odysseus challenged him with words since he was pinned down too securely to move. He set the magical plant carefully to one side. “What if I say no?”
“Then she will never free your men and you will never reach the rocky shores of Ithaca.” Hermes let his hand linger on Odysseus a moment, enjoying the half-stifled moan. “Are you questioning me again mortal?”
“N-no.” Odysseus forced down the surge of rage at his trembling voice. “I’ll do as you say.”
“Good.” Hermes tightened his grip. “If I may continue?” He took Odysseus’ white-faced nod as permission and let go, reclining back again. “Before you enjoy the favours of Circe you must make her swear a solemn oath by the blessed gods that she will not try any more of her tricks on you.”
“And if I don’t?” Odysseus asked hesitantly.
Hermes rolled onto his side to glare at him. “Then imagine the worst things I could do to your pride and your dignity, double them a thousand times and you have what Circe would do to your naked, defenceless body.” In an unexpected, smooth motion he slammed Odysseus back against the ground and straddled his hips. His breath was hot and clove-scented as he hissed in Odysseus’ ear. “I could demonstrate for you if you want.”
The rebellion was back in Odysseus’ eyes; he ignored the howling protests of his body and reversed their positions by sheer force of will. Hermes landed on his back in the leaves and dirt with a surprised gasp; Odysseus pinned him down before the god could retaliate.
“That won’t be necessary.” A satisfied grin spread across Odysseus’ face as he enjoyed his victory. Hermes lay beneath him, breathless and a little angry. “I’m perfectly capable of handling the situation myself.”
“You always are.” Hermes freed a hand from beneath the man’s weight to stroke pale knuckles across the weathered brown of Odysseus’ cheek. “How do you do it Odysseus?” Genuine bewilderment threaded the messenger god’s voice. “Favourite of Athene; you’ve infuriated Poseidon, have a great destiny mapped out by Zeus, mortal and immortal women fall at your feet and you’ve bewitched even me.” His eyes, flecked with the immortal silver and with depths a mortal could only imagine, narrowed suspiciously. “How?”
Odysseus shrugged and leaned forward to steal another kiss. “Luck. The Fates are on my side. You know as much as I.”
Hermes submitted willingly to the kiss, tilting his head for better access. Odysseus used the distraction to catch up his discarded tunic and broke their embrace to sit back and pull it over his head. Hermes watched him lace it closed with something akin to regret.
“I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”
“Neither do I and I don’t much care to. Your spontaneity is your best quality.” Odysseus leapt athletically to his feet and straightened his clothes, buckling on his sword. Hermes took the offered hand to help him up and waved his other hand; instantly he was clothed once more in gleaming white, golden curls free of tangles and leaves. Odysseus ran a hand through his own darker hair with a shrug and left it as it was.
There was a moment of awkwardness. Tongue-tied for once in his life, Odysseus lifted his hands in a slight gesture of helplessness. “I suppose I’ll see you whenever we happen to meet then?”
“Or sooner if I can manage it.” Hermes scooped up the discarded moly and handed it again to Odysseus. “Be careful of that. It’s your only protection against Circe. She’s cunning, perhaps as cunning as you.”
“No one is as cunning as me.” Odysseus flashed a bright smile at the golden god and turned to leave. “Give my love to Athene.”
“Odysseus.”
Hermes’ tone was oddly subdued; Odysseus half expected a trick as he paused to look back. “What?”
“What do- What we have is-” The god imitated the warrior’s earlier gesture and spread his hands wordlessly. “Am I different to you than the others? Am I- better? Worse?” True anxiety flickered across Hermes’ face as he met Odysseus’ gaze. “Do I mean anything to you at all?”
Odysseus’ mouth turned up at the corners; not a smirk, not his usual grin but a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Of course you’re different.”
Hermes waited; when no further explanation was forthcoming he stepped forward entreatingly. “But how?”
Odysseus crossed the path in a single stride. This time the kiss was soft, almost chaste, warm lips trembling against each other. The man hardly bothered to move his head back to speak, his words whispered on warm breath against Hermes’ mouth.
“You have the prettiest eyes.”
A moment later he was gone, leaving Hermes staring into the forest after him. The golden messenger raised a hand to brush it half-curiously across his eyelids as the warrior’s words sank in. Then the familiar, self-satisfied smirk spread over his face. With wings on his feet he leapt off the ground and sprinted back to Olympus, turning a cartwheel in mid-air.
From the forest below Odysseus watched the golden blur streak overhead. “Gods,” he muttered tolerantly and kept walking towards Circe’s palace.
~Fin~
Still not entirely sure why I'm bothering to post this since it was a quick scribble last night. *shrugs* Ah well.
Clo
And my never-ending love for Classics was born.
And now coming up to my final exams I've discovered the best way to revise both The Odyssey and The Aeneid is to write fanfiction about them. Beginning with that favourite scene of Odysseus/Hermes. Proabably (hopefully) over the next month an entire series of classical slash fic should be appearing here as I make every attempt to revise with dignity. Or, uh, not.
And so I present the unedited, rough Odysseus/Hermes pairing... (Apparently these muses want to have had a history so this came out as a sort of middle-scene/encounter. Expect an earlier meeting to appear at some point.)
Title: Prettiest Eyes
Fandom: Classical (The Odyssey)
Rating: Oh... around PG-13ish.
Pairing: Odysseus/Hermes
Summary: Odysseus is on his way to save his crew from Circe when he meets Hermes in the forest. Set during Book 10 of The Odyssey.
Prettiest Eyes
Odysseus inwardly fumed as he stalked through the forest, leaving Eurylochus behind on the beach. The coward! Suspected a trap… I should have known better than place him in charge. He has well-honed instincts when it came to saving his pretty skin but ask him to look after twenty-two others and what does he do?
“Feeds them to a cursed witch!” Odysseus spat the thought aloud. He took a deep breath to calm himself and his hand dropped to his sword hilt at his hip. It caressed the worn leather lovingly. He had walked unscathed from Troy. A little island witch would be child’s play.
“Confident aren’t you?” The honey-sweet tone was laced with bitter sarcasm and Odysseus turned to see a golden figure leaning against a tree. His tunic was barely long enough to be decent, sliding over bronzed thighs like liquid, the material the shimmering white favoured by the gods. Odysseus felt himself smile inadvertently and cursed himself for it.
“My lord,” he said softly, dropping to one knee, wincing as he knelt on a sharp rock. “How may I serve you?”
“Come now Odysseus,” Hermes replied mischievously, leaning down to take the warrior’s hand and drawing him to his feet. “Always so formal! Are we not past that?” His hand lingered at the nape of Odysseus’ neck, drawing a shiver from the man. “Athene sends her love.”
“Given permission for you to play with her favourite has she?” The words dropped like knives from Odysseus’ lips. “So nice of the gods to share their toys.”
Hermes’ hand tightened on his neck and Odysseus gritted his teeth, regretting the outburst. He watched, helpless in the divine grip as the god’s expression darkened. Shadows flowed under the sun-kissed skin; the golden curls around his face now hung tangled and black. His turquoise eyes bore down on Odysseus’ defiant gaze.
“So reckless little warrior,” Hermes said quietly. “If it were not for the will of Zeus I could kill you where you stand with no more than a single breath.” There was genuine anger behind the threat, revealing itself in the faintest tremble of Hermes’ hand. “You would lament your words in the darkest reaches of the Underworld.”
Odysseus was silent, partly due to the fierce grip on the back of his neck and partly because he knew Hermes’ temper. If he spoke up wrongly now the god could kill him just on a whim and take the consequences as they came. Blue eyes met turquoise; for an inestimable moment there was a mute battle of wills. Abruptly Hermes released him, taking a step back.
“Athene would never forgive me,” he said ruefully. The gold leached back into his hair, dispersed the shadows that had briefly laced his skin. Odysseus exhaled the breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. “You, my dear mortal are entirely too provoking for your own good health.”
“I try my best,” Odysseus replied, trying to look non-committal as he leaned against a tree to keep himself upright. The hand gripping his sword hilt was white-knuckled and the smile he forced to his lips was a faint parody of his usual mocking grin. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint now would I?”
“Hhhmm.” Hermes caught up the warrior’s free hand again and brought it up to eye level to study the rough skin with disapproval. “If you truly believed that you’d take better care of yourself. You know I prefer soft hands.”
“Apologies my lord,” Odysseus said softly, turning the captive hand to cup the god’s chin. “I shall try my best to please you better next time.”
“This time isn’t over yet.” Hermes tilted his head to kiss Odysseus’ palm. “You still have time to assuage my disappointment.”
“Of course my lord.” Odysseus kept his touch light and teasing as he skimmed rough fingertips across the golden cheek. “As always, I shall do my best.” He traced the line of a downy eyebrow, watching black lashes fall over the glittering turquoise pools. Hermes moaned softly as the warrior brought his other hand up to run through the golden curls.
“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Hermes murmured as Odysseus was on the brink of kissing him. The warrior froze, the hand in the god’s hair tightening inadvertently. Hermes growled in protest but Odysseus ignored it.
“Do I have any choice my lord?” The warrior drew back slightly, face blank and calm. “I am merely a mortal. I should never have questioned the conduct and wishes of the gods.”
“You paid for it.” The silence was heavy for a moment as Hermes traced an invisible line across Odysseus’ breastplate; following the pale scar beneath. “Athene likes her puppets obedient.”
“And you?” Odysseus asked boldly, fully aware his grip on the golden curls was forcing the god’s head back but not bothering to let go. “How does the Almighty Hermes like his puppets to be?”
“Hhhmm.” Hermes’ grin was wicked and his eyes looked more silvery than turquoise as he met Odysseus’ gaze. “I like them brash…” He turned to kiss the inside of the arm holding his hair. “… And cunning…” Another kiss, further up by the shoulder. “… Reckless…” The third kiss brushed the warrior’s rough stubbled chin. “And very, very willing to please.” The divine mouth closed on Odysseus’.
“And I thought I was perfect until that last one.” Teasingly Odysseus pulled back a few inches. “If my lord finds me lacking in some way-“
“Shut up and kiss me. That’s an order.” Hermes pushed Odysseus back against a tree, divine power undoing the buckles on his armour. “Not even you would dare deny the gods more than once cunning Odysseus.”
All thought of resistance was fading fast as the god’s warm lips mapped his throat but with an immense force of will Odysseus managed to turn his head. “Circe…”
“Will wait. This is more important.” Hermes gave the answer with the utter confidence of a god who is used to being obeyed. Odysseus groaned deep in his throat and leaned over to kiss the god again. There was no one to see the spark of rebellion in his blue eyes as he slid the tunic from the golden shoulders but it remained until his eyes slid closed and he began to kiss his way slowly, teasingly downwards.
Much later, when the echoes of their cries had faded and the sun caressing Odysseus’ naked back was cooling, they lay tangled together in the soft leaves. Hermes blinked lazily over at the warrior from his position of graceful recline. Odysseus was too tired to do more than quirk a curious eyebrow in reply.
“I was meant to give you this.” A flick of a hand and the slender fingers held a leafy flower. Odysseus took it with caution; Hermes had been known to give trick gifts that turned into snakes or spiders when touched. Two white fang scars on his left wrist were testament to his first-hand knowledge.
“This is moly,” the warrior frowned, relaxing as the flower remained a flower. Milky white petals glimmered under the gloom of the forest canopy. “This is a dangerous planet for mortal men.”
“Only for them to dig up and I have done that for you. You are here to free your men are you not? I’ll save you the trouble of staying there with them. This herb will make you immune to the evil of Circe’s drug; she will try in vain to enchant you while you have it.” Hermes smirked, insufferably smug. Odysseus shifted a little in irritation but they were entwined together and the god easily held him still. “Behave warrior or I’ll leave you to the witch’s wiles. She will strike you with her long stick after you have drunk her potion; draw your sword and rush her as though you mean to kill her.” The smirk widened as Hermes ran a hand down Odysseus’ body. “She will fall to the ground in terror and invite you to her bed. You must accept.”
“Oh I must?” Odysseus challenged him with words since he was pinned down too securely to move. He set the magical plant carefully to one side. “What if I say no?”
“Then she will never free your men and you will never reach the rocky shores of Ithaca.” Hermes let his hand linger on Odysseus a moment, enjoying the half-stifled moan. “Are you questioning me again mortal?”
“N-no.” Odysseus forced down the surge of rage at his trembling voice. “I’ll do as you say.”
“Good.” Hermes tightened his grip. “If I may continue?” He took Odysseus’ white-faced nod as permission and let go, reclining back again. “Before you enjoy the favours of Circe you must make her swear a solemn oath by the blessed gods that she will not try any more of her tricks on you.”
“And if I don’t?” Odysseus asked hesitantly.
Hermes rolled onto his side to glare at him. “Then imagine the worst things I could do to your pride and your dignity, double them a thousand times and you have what Circe would do to your naked, defenceless body.” In an unexpected, smooth motion he slammed Odysseus back against the ground and straddled his hips. His breath was hot and clove-scented as he hissed in Odysseus’ ear. “I could demonstrate for you if you want.”
The rebellion was back in Odysseus’ eyes; he ignored the howling protests of his body and reversed their positions by sheer force of will. Hermes landed on his back in the leaves and dirt with a surprised gasp; Odysseus pinned him down before the god could retaliate.
“That won’t be necessary.” A satisfied grin spread across Odysseus’ face as he enjoyed his victory. Hermes lay beneath him, breathless and a little angry. “I’m perfectly capable of handling the situation myself.”
“You always are.” Hermes freed a hand from beneath the man’s weight to stroke pale knuckles across the weathered brown of Odysseus’ cheek. “How do you do it Odysseus?” Genuine bewilderment threaded the messenger god’s voice. “Favourite of Athene; you’ve infuriated Poseidon, have a great destiny mapped out by Zeus, mortal and immortal women fall at your feet and you’ve bewitched even me.” His eyes, flecked with the immortal silver and with depths a mortal could only imagine, narrowed suspiciously. “How?”
Odysseus shrugged and leaned forward to steal another kiss. “Luck. The Fates are on my side. You know as much as I.”
Hermes submitted willingly to the kiss, tilting his head for better access. Odysseus used the distraction to catch up his discarded tunic and broke their embrace to sit back and pull it over his head. Hermes watched him lace it closed with something akin to regret.
“I don’t know when I’ll see you again.”
“Neither do I and I don’t much care to. Your spontaneity is your best quality.” Odysseus leapt athletically to his feet and straightened his clothes, buckling on his sword. Hermes took the offered hand to help him up and waved his other hand; instantly he was clothed once more in gleaming white, golden curls free of tangles and leaves. Odysseus ran a hand through his own darker hair with a shrug and left it as it was.
There was a moment of awkwardness. Tongue-tied for once in his life, Odysseus lifted his hands in a slight gesture of helplessness. “I suppose I’ll see you whenever we happen to meet then?”
“Or sooner if I can manage it.” Hermes scooped up the discarded moly and handed it again to Odysseus. “Be careful of that. It’s your only protection against Circe. She’s cunning, perhaps as cunning as you.”
“No one is as cunning as me.” Odysseus flashed a bright smile at the golden god and turned to leave. “Give my love to Athene.”
“Odysseus.”
Hermes’ tone was oddly subdued; Odysseus half expected a trick as he paused to look back. “What?”
“What do- What we have is-” The god imitated the warrior’s earlier gesture and spread his hands wordlessly. “Am I different to you than the others? Am I- better? Worse?” True anxiety flickered across Hermes’ face as he met Odysseus’ gaze. “Do I mean anything to you at all?”
Odysseus’ mouth turned up at the corners; not a smirk, not his usual grin but a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Of course you’re different.”
Hermes waited; when no further explanation was forthcoming he stepped forward entreatingly. “But how?”
Odysseus crossed the path in a single stride. This time the kiss was soft, almost chaste, warm lips trembling against each other. The man hardly bothered to move his head back to speak, his words whispered on warm breath against Hermes’ mouth.
“You have the prettiest eyes.”
A moment later he was gone, leaving Hermes staring into the forest after him. The golden messenger raised a hand to brush it half-curiously across his eyelids as the warrior’s words sank in. Then the familiar, self-satisfied smirk spread over his face. With wings on his feet he leapt off the ground and sprinted back to Olympus, turning a cartwheel in mid-air.
From the forest below Odysseus watched the golden blur streak overhead. “Gods,” he muttered tolerantly and kept walking towards Circe’s palace.
~Fin~
Still not entirely sure why I'm bothering to post this since it was a quick scribble last night. *shrugs* Ah well.
Clo
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Date: 2004-05-17 05:41 pm (UTC)And as for requests.... I know it's not exactly what you had in mind, but Hector/Achilles? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease? *looks all adorable and cute*
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Date: 2004-05-18 01:32 am (UTC)And yes... I can't resist the Hector/Achilles. *sighs* I need to see Troy again first to get all the opportunities stuck in my mind so it'll either be written the end of this week or sometime next week I think. In the meantime my favourite Aeneid pairing of Aeneas/Pallas calls... ;-) I love classical slash.