Achilles watched how the young woman came in to bring him his meal. Roasted meat with grapes. It was very usual for him to get such a meal as they didn’t had many foods other than fruits and meat. Though it was much better than what the other men got to eat and he should be grateful for the things he got: the best meals, most privacy of anyone and the best daughters to bed.
He wasn’t ungrateful but he wasn’t grateful either. If this so called King wanted him to lead his attack, he goddamn deserved it. Achilles always acted on what would be best for him personal. It was known, no secret at all.
His mother had warned him not to go into war. She didn’t wanted to see her son die. But Achilles knew better. He wouldn’t die, not today and not tomorrow. Some people say he’s such a great warrior, he can not die. That was untrue, and Achilles knew that very well. All men die at some point, even great men. Only he wouldn’t be forgotten. In the future this time would be known as the time of Achilles. The great warrior who won every battle.
He took a sip of his wine as the girl still stood in his tent, seeing her glance over to the armory. “It would be highly appreciated if you could find the time to help me get it on, my fair lady.” he said with a bit of a numb expression.
Oh she knew the tales of Achilles well, though did not fathom being near him. She avoided catching his attention, and it seemed to work fairly well. Perhaps he had already had his fill of women, for there were several daughters within this village that jumped eagerly at the thought of being in his presence. Pushing away the thought, the woman settled the tray of food on the table, attempting not to put it in the way of his cup of wine.
She did not see him look at her, especially as her eyes trailed over to the falcata on the side, which she imagined slain many a warrior during its time of use. When he spoke to her, she nearly jumped from the sound of his voice. It demanded attention, regardless how indifferent the tone was. The woman lifted her chin to look directly at him and nods slowly.
“Do you wish for me to wait until you are through with your meal? Or would you prefer I dress you now.” Her voice was soft in addressing him, but her eyes refused to meet his own when she spoke. Already, she had moved before him to where the armor was neatly arranged. Her heart drummed in her chest as fingers dared to brush against the muscled breastplate.
Dropping her hand to to rest at the front of her thighs, she faced him fully. She had never placed armor on a man before, for her father had not worn one since they had arrived to the village. It enticed her, to see the warriors, for she had seen great battles in her dreams - but not once thought it would be taking place when she was awake.