Holding My Last Breath

Chapter Five- Understandment

Briseis had never been on a ship before, so it was another experience for her. Achilles showed her around the ship briefly, naming things she would never remember. She prefered the stern of the ship, starboard side. (Back of the ship, right side) It amused her that she would walk away from this voyage with only that of her lesson on ship areas.

Achilles let her roam freely, but kept an eye on her. These were some of Odysseus' men and were trustworthy, but he watched just to make sure no one forgot who she was. It wasn't hard to keep track of her though. She sat in the same spot, watching the clouds, sun, stars, and moon as they drifted above.

For the first few days, she was quiet. He could see the dispondancy in her face and tinge of sadness in her tone. It was clear she was mourning, in her own fashion, for Troy and her family. She knew clear as day that Paris, Helen, Andromache, and Asytanyx made it out alive. But separation anxiety set in.

At night, they lay in each other's arms, pressed tightly together. Neither felt the compulsion to make love, only to spend the darkest moments of the outside world with each other. He would kiss her gently on the face, neck and shoulders, a smile and kisses from her in return. When she drifted off to sleep, he watched her. Her serene smile and warm glow made him sleepy and soon, his eyes fell shut.

The captain told Achilles that they would reach Phtia within five days. He nodded and turned to Briseis. She brushed her hair back and up into a flowing ponytail. One of the chests on the ship had women's clothes and she wore a green dress that had only one shoulder. The spacing of the clasps on the sleve exposed the pale flesh beneath. After a few days above deck, she tanned and now had a healthy glow to her.

"We'll be arriving soon," he said, standing next to her. "Only a few days now." She nodded and smiled. It was a genunely happy smile and it pleased him to see it.

"What's Phtia like?"

"Like any other city I suppose," he replied, sitting down next to her. He leaned against the rail as Briseis sat sideways. "It has a harbor, a market, streets, people. Nothing spectacular."

"I'm sure you're wrong," she said with a twinkle in her eye. He looked amused by her responce. She was already getting back to the fiesty woman from the beach at Troy.

"The only thing different is the palace. It backs against cliffs and sits right on the beach. Its high and far enough away to be safe from the tide and storms, but you can walk right out onto the sand." He watched her close her eyes as he spoke.

Briseis imagined what the palace looked like, down to the color of the stones it was built with. He told her before about the open air courtyard in the center of the palace. He mentioned how he could see out onto the ocean from the balcony. She imagined her home in complete detail.

My home. The idea sank in over the voyage. Whether as his bride or as his courtesian, she would be calling the palace at Phtia her new home. Troy was dust in time to her already.

She opened her eyes as he brushed the hair off her shoulder. She smiled sweetly at him getting a warm gaze that wrapped around her in return. She turned completely to face the ocean and laid her head against his shoulder. He didn't touch her back, save turning his head into her hair for a brief while.

The image of being a immortal came with the price of being dettached from the world. Now with Briseis at his side, it was even harder to maintain.

"May I ask you something?," she said turning her face into his neck. He looked at her ready to respond. "Most princes I know are married at your age. How is it you escaped?"

To that, he smiled outwardly. It was a rare, beautiful smile that sent butterflies in her stomach up to her heart and into her head.

"I escaped because of my mother. She foretold my demise before I was born. Because of it, she maintained to anyone who saught to have their daughter married off to me that it would be wrong to cause suffering of that kind to anyone."

"Your demise?"

"She saw my death at Troy." He looked into the brown paint of her eyes, watching her reaction. It shifted from stun to confusion laced with concern.

"But you didn't die," she said, stating the obvious before she could stop herself.

"I did," he said, stroking her cheek. "I died when I met you."

A flame of blush quickly covered her cheeks. She looked down and gave a small, innocent smile that pleased him. She leaned into his hand and kissed his palm. He took it away and placed it on the railing. He leaned in to whisper to her.

"Not yet," he said softly. Moving back, he placed a peck on her cheek that satisfied her craving for his touch. They sat staring at each other until Briseis giggled and looked back out on the water. The winds kicked up and pushed them faster towards their destination.

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That night, Achilles couldn't keep from touching her.

He thought about his detachment from the world as a neccesity for his survival and strength. Glory comes only to those who are willing to sacrifice everything for it. He gave his whole world to the hunt for his name in history; but at Troy, he turned his back on it.

Briseis is everything he gave up in one form. She satisfied every tiny portion of being, down to the air he breathed. Twelve days away from her proved him unable to function logically. He had many insane thoughts on that beach and knew they stemmed from her absence.

If Achilles never saw her again, he definitely would carry on. But it would be with a sense of loss that cut to his core.

As he finally closed his thoughts on the matter, he walked down below deck. The sun was deep beneath the horizon at this point and the cool winds blew. He opened the door to the cabin and quickly entered.

As he shut it, his eyes met with the bare of Briseis' shoulder. The tan skin was soft and inviting to him. She looked out the other porthole, taking her hair down. It fell almost in slow motion to him, tumbling and waving upon the length of her back. She undid the tie around the waist and let the material flow out.

In that span of time, his mind replayed his thoughts about his sacrifice for glory. He realized then he never wanted glory. It was instilled in him by the ideas of his father who he barely knew. He denied himself any chance of the life he actually wanted.

He wanted to have a wife, he wanted to have children, he wanted to grow old watching them play and grow themselves. In a swish of her hair and the color of her exposed skin, he realized Briseis was the person he was meant to do these things with.

He found himself across the room, arms wrapped tightly around her, kissing the shoulder exposed to the air. She slid her arm out of the sleve of the dress and it fell to the floor. He turned her around and lead her to the bed.

For a while, she sat straddling his lap. He touched and caressed the surface of her skin. He watched her closed eyes squint and widen as his hands found places of pleasure she never knew. The moans, the heat and the sweat drove him mad.

He pressed her to the bed, kissing her feriociously. He showed his strength and fearful power to her when he made her cry out in ecstacy. Never before had she experienced shinghing this hungry and desired with him. Her body trembled beneath his and it made him push harder. He felt her tears on his shoulder, moaning on the verge of screaming. Part of him said to stop this but it died fast as she brought him tighter against her with every thrust.

A storm had rolled in over the sea. Mostly lighting, thunder and light rain. But the noise from it drowned out the cries of passion that came from within the belly of the ship.