Let The Games Begin.

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When the thought crosses my mind that Achilles intends to carry me all the way home, I prop my elbows against his back, resting my face against my fists. About twenty or so feet down the road, I sigh, dropping my arms flat against his back. 

     "Achilles, you must put me down." I say, squirming in his grip. 

He simply gives an irritated grunt, tightening his arm around my waist. 

     "Seriously. Put me down. I know how to walk-"

     "And also how to run away, and drown and how abandon an entire nation and all your responsibilities. Apparently I cannot let you out of my sight. And now, my grip as well." He pauses, adjusting me over his shoulder. "Yes, you are making quite the mess of your life but any mess can be cleaned with the right tools."

I scoff, pressing against his shoulder in an attempt to free myself. Exerting all my remaining strength to the point of my arms shaking is still not enough to loosen his grip on me. Pounding my fists against his back, I glance around and come up with an idea. I begin to lean. All the way to the left. His arm can only stretch so far before the joint threatens to separate and he will be forced to drop me. Although it's a long way down, I'd rather be on the dirt path than in his arms. 

     "Release me!" I try once more, beginning to buck against him wildly. 

     "Integra!" He snaps, temporarily dropping the reins in his right hand to further restrain me. After wrestling with my flailing limbs, he caves and grabs whatever he can, which happens to be a handful of my damp hair, at the scalp. He yanks my head back, forcing me to be still and look at him. 

     "I do not know why you are acting like this but I will not tolerate it!" He shouts, releasing my hair. "You are making this process so much more difficult than it needs to be," he says, dropping me from his shoulder onto my feet. My body is much weaker than I assumed. I sink straight to my knees, keeping my gaze at his sandaled feet as I haphazardly tug the cloak back onto my shoulders. "I am the captain of the guard. A royal soldier. Not a babysitter. If you want to act like every ounce of sense has been stripped from your body, then so be it. But you do not have my support," he pauses, contemplating his next words, "or the support of the hoplite army."

I glance up at him, surprised at his brazenness. He does not have the authority to make such decisions. But I also know the sway he holds over his men. He has just moved me into a dangerous position if his men take his side.

     "Let's go-" He snaps, reaching forward to grab the reins of the horses. "If you want to walk, walk, but we are going home."

I shake my head, doubling over. Face nearly to the dirt road, I cling my hands together, pressing them to my chest, willing the onset of tears away. 

Turning around, Achilles sighs and asks, "Princess, what is wrong with you? You've never been this rebellious stubborn brat." With no answer, he continues. "I understand avoiding your problems when you're not sure of the solution, but at the expense of also punishing everyone around you? At the expense of losing yourself?"

I glance up at him, parting my lips to speak. Almost certain that the only thing that would have come out is frustrated crying and screaming, I close my mouth, instead pushing myself to my knees. On shaky legs, I pull his cloak tightly around myself and make towards the palace. 

When we make it back, I am immediately surrounded by a swarm of hoplite guards, Ajax and Marcellus. All relieved to see me back, a stunned silence falls over the crowd at the sight of my poor condition. And the realization that I am nude. Ajax pushes through the crowd, placing his body in front of mine. Unsure of how much longer I can stand, I lean forward, resting my forehead against his back. Turning my head, I watch Achilles remove the shell from the saddle bag and then hand the horses off.