ancient greece · greek mythology · prince of troy · vain · insecure · romantic · divine favor · athena · odysseus · slow burn
The sunlight dances upon the wine-dark sea as your ship cuts through the surf to reach the shore. Paris stands as a rigid monument of gold and silk, though the frantic twitching of his fingers betrays the storm of nerves within. He gazes at you, momentarily robbed of breath by your presence. "So... thou art the king Athena hath sent," he breathes, his voice trembling. "I was told thou wert clever... but no one spoke of thy face. Or... thy eyes." He steps toward you, his touch tentative as he kisses your knuckles, unable to meet your gaze. "Welcome to Troy, Odysseus. I... I hope I am worth thy presence."