"Why would you take this old man alive?" The voice, once warm and reminding Achilles of fur, was cracked and strained, aching with fatigue. Achilles smiled and reached for his wine, as he sat indolently at the edge of his chariot. The man in front of him was tied to it and kneeling in the sands. Achilles thought he couldn't possibly get up. His lower left leg was lying at quite an unnatural angle. Achilles took a deep draught of his wine, hiding his own pain at his wounds. The 'old man' had not gone down tamely.

"I didn't actually mean to. You dodged a lot, you craven bastard," Achilles said casually and heard a wheezy chuckle. They both knew that hit and run strikes were Hector's stock in trade. "Made me miss." It was the truth, he'd meant to stab Hector in the throat. But in that last moment Hector had eeled away and taken the hit on his arm. Speaking of which. "How's that arm?"

"Can't feel it," Hector admitted with a smile. Achilles wasn't surprised. As he'd dragged the man behind his chariot he'd noticed the arm lying like a dead thing. "I think you got something important there. I might be crippled."

"Not like it matters now," Achilles said with a cold smile before sloshing his wine. "Would you like some wine?" he asked just to be cruel. Hector's tongue went over his cracked lips.

"I'd kill for it. Don't suppose you'll give me any?" Hector's gaze was full of longing and Achilles smiled before shaking his head. The other man sighed. "Didn't think so." Hector's face was unguarded for a moment and Achilles enjoyed the quiet misery there. It wasn't enough, oh no, not by a long shot. But it was a start.

"You'll make an excellent hostage against your people," Achilles said, again to be cruel. Hector laughed but it ended in a harsh cough.

"Oh come on Achilles, we both know you don't care. How are you planning to kill me?" Hector asked with a smile and Achilles felt a great darkness welling up in his chest as he looked into that calm face. Hector was a good man. A good father, a good prince, a good warrior. And that made Achilles want to crush him.

"I'm not planning to kill you Hector," Achilles said softly and enjoyed the way the man blinked, unsettled but holding onto his composure manfully. "For now, though, I think we should begin with the traditional act of the conquered to the conquerer." Although this generally involved a woman. From Hector's mild bewilderment, he had no idea what Achilles meant. "I want you to suck me off." It would get them started off on a nicely humiliating foot. Hector's lips parted for a moment and he actually seemed to be speechless. Then he blinked a few times before finding his voice.

"If you want me to do that I need some wine." Achilles was tempted to hammer the wine jug into his face. Did Hector think he could demand – "Because right now I haven't got any spit. And a dick sucking without spit would have to be some kind of horrible crime." …HAH!

"Well, well, a reasonable excuse. You are a funny man Hector," Achilles said with a thin smile, considering the veracity of the request. Deciding it was close to true, he slid from the chariot and carefully pressed the wine jug to Hector's mouth. He drank noisily, struggling not to get the wine all over himself when the speed of the pour was out of his control. Achilles let him have rather a lot before pulling the jug away.

"Ah, thank you. It might also help to be a little drunk," Hector blinked owlishly and Achilles gave him a skeptical look. Surely that little bit wasn't enough. "Quite an empty stomach I have."

"Well, if it did souse you it would help with the moving part," Achilles said as he took his place on the chariot. "Come here Hector." Hector's despairing look was eloquent but then he obeyed, groaning through clenched teeth as he dragged his sorry carcass closer. The broken leg dragged, making Achilles think of an eel. The sight of the once-proud prince about to pleasure him sent a pleasant heat to his groin and Achilles settled in comfortably.

Hector was an utter novice at dick sucking. That quickly became clear but Achilles found it oddly charming, as he grasped chestnut hair and gave verbal corrections. Hector did learn quickly, he would grant the man that, and his mouth was slick with wine and spit. Overall it was quite a titillating experience and Achilles was soon deeply involved in it, although not to the exclusion of everything else. He was aware of several warriors, including Odysseus, taking a look at what he was doing before taking themselves elsewhere.

Just before he came, Achilles harshly jerked Hector away so he could watch his cum splatter the prince's face. It was a rare treat, seeing such utter disbelief on Hector's face. The man stared at him blankly, white trails of semen dripping over his skin and beard.

"I… can honestly say no one has ever done this to me before," Hector finally said, sounding as stunned as he looked. Achilles let go of his hair and enjoyed watching as Hector reached up with his good hand to wipe away a bit of the slime before staring at it with a kind of wondering confusion.

"You've never taken a man to your bed?" Achilles asked, interested. "Or just always fucked them yourself?" he smiled as Hector looked up, rubbing the semen between his fingers.

"I admit to never fucking another man," Hector said, still vaguely stunned. Achilles' cock twitched at the thought. "I thought of it a few times but it never seemed wise, being a prince and all." Oh? "Too much favor to one warrior and I know myself, I tend to get attached." Not likely to be a problem now. "You really want to rape this old man?" Psh.

"You're not so old as that, for all your protests." Admittedly, Hector was old for a warrior, into his forties. Hm. "Do you think that's why you lost? Your age?" Achilles asked, smiling thinly. He hated the thought but knew it was probably close to true, Hector was a bit out of his prime. Hector blinked slowly.

"Well, yes and no. If I'd met you at twenty you'd have made mincemeat out of me," Hector said after a moment and Achilles appreciated that. "We become cannier with age. I think my perfect time was roughly thirty-two, maybe even thirty-five. I've been slowing down since then. But you really want my body? You must have quite a lot of fine young men to pick from."

"You might want to stop trying to wiggle out of it. My other idea is to torture you," Achilles said casually and watched Hector swallow. The expression on his face remained calm, though, his brown eyes reflecting very little of his feelings. It made Achilles want to tear through that composure and see what sounds Hector could make in the grip of pain. Hmm… and in the throes of pleasure too, for that matter. It would be fun to break this man.

"I do wonder if I should have just bit you," Hector said with a small sigh. Achilles snorted. He hadn't been worried about that at all. "But I imagine you'd have knocked my teeth out."

"Quite right." He'd known Hector would make that (correct) calculation. "Well, we should probably get that leg seen to," Achilles said before hauling the man onto his chariot. Hector nearly fainted when his leg caught on the edge for a moment. He did make a soft, strangled sound, almost a whine. Achilles enjoyed it immensely. "The arm too, for what it's worth." Achilles was fairly sure he'd severed something vital. The way it flopped around was a bad sign and he was willing to bet they'd eventually have to amputate. That was dangerous though and Achilles made a note to talk to the healers. If there was any way to save it, they should. He didn't want his prisoner to die of blood loss or wound fever.

"I think it's gone. But as you will," Hector said, breathless with pain and his skin a bit grey beneath his tan. Achilles was a bit surprised he could even speak. He quickly set the chariot in motion, enjoying Hector's heavy breathing, the tiny sounds of pain he couldn't suppress as the chariot went over bumps, jostling that broken leg. As he listened, Achilles felt that darkness well up in his chest again, that desire to destroy.

Hector was going to be so much fun.