gwenchan

Fandom: The Iliad
Characters: Phoenix, Achilles

Prompt: Antica Grecia

Tag: pre-canon

Phoenix walks into the dining hall to find the poor maid who's been entrusted with princeling's today dinner on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"It's the same meat you always eat," she's saying, in an exhausted tone, and clearly not for the first time. "See? It's the lamb that you like so much. Just a bite. I've seen you devour it before."

But the kid only purses his lips and turns his head away from the plate, with the stubbornness only a three-years old can have.

Scratching the beard on his chin as the toddler pushes the plate away, Phoenix briefly wonders if they aren't spoiling him a little too much.

"Achilles," he calls, in a chiding tone.

The maid lightens up in relief as soon as shespots him. She clasps her hands to her chest and bows.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you, sir. I know you are busy, but he wouldn't eat and - "

"It's fine," Phoenix cuts her short, turning to Achilles who's nudging at his plate with the tip of the knife.

"Is this the way to behave? Care to explain why you aren't eating? The cook worked hard on that, you know."

Achilles looks at him with complete seriousness.

"The bits are cut wrong," he says, like an obvious thing. "You cut them better."

Phoenix doesn't know if burst into laughter or leave him there dinnerless as perhaps he would deserve. But Achilles is the prince and he is still young and Phoenix knows from experience a hungry Achilles will only cause more troubles.

"And so, what are we going to do? I'm not sending this back and it has already been cut."

“Cut it again,” Achilles says, like stating the obvious and it’s clear there’s no discussing today.

Sighing, Phoenix takes the knife. “I won’t be there to cut your meat forever, you know.”

The bits are indeed a bit on the bigger size.

“Of course you will.”

Part of Phoenix almost wants to believe it. “Here,” he says, pushing the plate back toward the kid. “Better?”

He waits for Achilles to start eating, but the child only stares at him. Eventually, Phoenix understands. He grabs a chair and sits down.

“Fine,” he surrenders, as Achilles is already climbing into his lap, all knobby knees and sharp elbows.

His teeth are sharp as well, Nereid's teeth, flashing once before he finally brings the first bite to his mouth.

Achilles eats methodically, brow furrowed, watered wine dribbling down his chin and on his tunic even with Phoenix carefully holding the cup for him.

"All of it," Phoenix nudges him, pointing at the vegetables. He's pretty sure Achilles swallows them without even chewing.

He jumps off Phoenix's knees as soon as he's finished. Phoenix however is faster, reflexes sharpened by years of dealing with the kid.

“Not so fast, young man. Time for your bath. Go on."

Phoenix urges him toward the maid. Achilles doesn’t move an inch. He stays there and looks intently at Phoenix, in wait.

It always ends like this. “Come.” Shaking his head, Phoenix holds out his hand for Achilles to obediently take. “Let’s go to your room. Oh, you surely are a handful.”

He’ll be the cause for more than one white hair on Phoenix's head for sure.

“But you love me Phoenix.”

Tiredly ruffling Achilles' hair, Phoenix knows already there's no point in arguing.