Holding My Last Breath

Chapter Eleven- Won't Fear Love

Achilles stood on the deck of the ship, watching the clouds pass by. The war was much longer than expected, lasting nearly four months. The city was able to hold out for a while, their reinforcements arriving before the Greeks did. But eventually, they were weakened beyond repair.

He made sure the messages of their victories reached Phtia as soon as possible. He never expected a return message knowing well enough that the messages needed to reach cities elsewhere as well. But he recieved one just as they prepared to leave for home. It made him want the winds to blow harder so that he could be home sooner.

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Briseis sat on the floor of the nursery, Pat rolling a ball back and forth with her. He grew fast, standing confidently without help from anyone or anything. He now wandered room to room, knowing his own strength and keeping his nurses on their toes. Of course, he never did this with his mother. He went straight into her arms, reveling in her praise and

His attention shifted to his toy horse and the ball stopped rolling. Briseis sat up straight, watching the sun filter through the sheers of his room. She felt a flutter of movement and pressed her hand to her belly. It swelled and rounded, their second child within.

She had a hard time deciding whether to tell Achilles while he was away or wait until he came home. The messenger offered to stop in Phtia on his way back to the battle site and take a message to him. No need trtherther worry. The captain of the guard reported that scouts saw the ships not far up the coast. She waited now, two children in her care, for her husband to come home.

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Achilles was first greeted by "Dada!" from Pat. He rushed forward in a flurry of little steps, lifted into his father's strong arms. The tiny child held tight, burying his face into his shoulder. Achilles smiled and kissed his son's head. He never realized how much he missed the feel of their child in his arms.

"He goes a thousand times faster than I can move now," a soft, sweet voice said, drawing his attention. Briseis stood in front of him, a vision to his war-torn sight. The light blue of her dress rested on her curves, her pregnant form still as beautiful as ever. She came into a kiss, their son between the two of them. Achilles stroked her cheek, letting her brown curls touch his finger tips.

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He closed the door to Pat's room lightly. He rocked his son to sleep for the first tin fon four months. The child shifted a bit, but settled into his blanket for a peaceful sleep. Achilles entered his room, eyes focusing on his wife. She sat out on the balcony, blanket draped over her form. He sat next to her, happy as she laid against him.

"I kept my promise. I came home."

"I knew you would," she smiled, lacing her fingers through his. They watched the sliver of the moon slowly glow over the sea. Minor conversation took place, banter over battles and P new new activities.

Achilles payed more attention to Briseis' belly than anything. For a second time, she would be giving him a child. He always wanted to have children; this was ideal for him. He knew the risks of child birth, having had them recited to him almost everyday she carried Pat by the nurse and midwife. Briseis felt his hand move to cover her's. They laced fingers, resting them on the top of her stomach.

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He watched her fall back to sleep. He awoke to her absence and stiffled crying. She wouldn't say much, only that she had a nightmare. It took him no time in calming her, wrapping his strong arms around her. Once they laid back down on the bed, he stroked her hair softly, lulling her into night's keep again.

What scared her that much? His thoughts danced through his mind briefly, sleep overtaking him as well.

Achilles recieved no peace in his sleep either. Images of the battle flashed before him in blurry color and yellow tinge. It looked like an old time west photo graph that repeated a thousand times. The bloody ground and decomposing bodies stirred the sensory memory causing him to inhale those fumes again.

He welcomed the rising sun as the first rays reached them in the bedroom. Briseis lay on the opposite side of the bed, hand stin hin his, grasping lightly. He turned on his stomach and watched her. Her even breaths were barely seen under the rounded skin.

Lightly, he pressed against the shape, hoping for movement. The only thing that he felt was the even intake of oxygen on Briseis' part. For the duration of the sun's ascent from the blanket of water, he remained this way.

As he began to move his hand, a ripple of motion came from beneath her skin. The smirk crossed his face; this child rose with the sun as well.

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Pat was standing in his crib as Achilles entered. He watched as he crossed the room and bent down, nose to nose with him. Little hands found familar skin and grasped the stray strands of hair on his neck. Achilles kissed his son's cheek, lifting him up into his arms. Pat rambled a string of words that sounded like spoken languagehed hed with baby talk.

"Not even two and already you talk like your mother."

"Hey, I resemble that remark." He turned to see her leaning against the door frame. Her hair was twisted up into a flowing fall of curls. She had changed into a green dress that revealed a decent amount of cleavage. He noted that with childish amusement.

"You wear a dress like that with child?," he said, the tone of jest fit into his voice.

"No, I wear this dress because I know you will notice me," she retorted. He crossed the room and pulled her close. She knew he got the joke, but in a sense, she regretted it. Achilles always noticed and payed attention to her. Kissing his hand, she hoped it did no damage. His smile assured her of that.

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"Have you thought of any names?" Briseis continued to look out onto the water as she thought the question over. Pat sat between his parents squeezing the tiny grains of sand through his fingers. It was a warm, breezy day and they decided to spend it on the beach. "Briseis?"

"Actually, I haven't. We didn't name Pat until after he was born. It will probably be the same way with this one as well." Achilles nodded, lifting his son with one hand and balancing him in the air. A rampage of giggles and smiles came from the small child as he held tightly to his father's arm.

He brought his son down and tickled him on the sand. Pat got from his grasp and rolled over, watching with ready eyes for another attack. Achilles smiled brightly and turned to say something to Briseis, stopping short. Her eyes were shut, hand pressed to her belly and pain on her face.

"Briseis? What's wrong?" She took a deep breath and looked to him. She smiled lightly, waving off the pain with her hand.

"Nothing. Just normal pains," she said, brushing the renegade hair from his face.