War was hell, that was never not true.

But Jason never really felt like he had any other reason to live. Especially after being killed and called back from the Underworld just to live with rage. His father, the King was a warrior just like every one of his siblings, though they all had other skills too, that helped them on different fields: Dick was a great diplomat, Tim, a brilliant strategist.

No suprise he was the one requested to join the Greeks in their battle against Troy. He accepted the invitation if only to strengthen alliences and to let off some steam in a good fight.

What he didn't expect was to get stuck there for literal years with some really unbearable people. Would he really be missed if he just took a boat…

"Prince Jason" a soldier interrupted his thoughts. "The loot is being shared" he reported.

He sighed and followed the man into the middle of camp. As they haven't gotten trough the walls of the city yet, most distributed things were plundered from nearby towns, ranging from money to family heirlooms and even captives.

Jason never found these barbarian contests for prizes entertaining. His family never needed coin, so he rarely chose some pretty jewelry for himself.

But tonight, walking by the captives his eye stopped on one of them, on you. Your back and toga were red with blood, you were probably whipped for something after you were captured. He stopped by and for a moment, your eyes met.

Before he could've registered his own moves, he pointed at you. The surrounding soldiers took his move as a clear sign that he had chosen and they threw you at his feet.

He stared at you for a few moments, assessing the state of your bleeding back and internally wondered on his own reasoning. When you haven't spoke he asked, "What's your name?"