Things left unsaid

Title: Things left unsaid
Pairing: Achilles X Briseis
Author: Angel Almasy
Rating: R- NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own Troy in anyway shape or form. Nor do I know/own any of the characters/actors…damn.
FYI: This is AU sort of…and I’m going with scenes in the movie, and using the timeline of the Illiad. Which is why it says she has known him for such a long time…you’ll understand when you read it. This is also just a quick PWP basically. Just for fun.


So many things left unsaid
and they’ll continue to haunt me
long after I’m dead.


It is quiet, and has been for hours now. It is quite a shock to hear such peacefulness after what has happened today, and so many before. I am prevented from contemplating the serenity any further when, he, walks in. He looks like he always does. His head held high, and his armor coated in blood. The blood of so many men…do not think about. He moves with purposefulness, and such swiftness.

But tonight it is different. Yes, he looks the same, but there is something…off. It is the way he is looking at me, he is lost and severely fatigued. What worries me most though, are his eyes. They almost seem to burn with pain. I cannot hide my concern, and I stand. He watches me momentarily, and proceeds to remove his blood-laden armor. I watch, unable to take my eyes off of him.

Taking a cloth, he wets it to wash off the filth of battle. I interrupt him, taking it out of his hands, “let me”, I murmur inaudibly. He nods and I continue. Covering the contours of his face, gently, he shuts his eyes. I do believe that I am enjoying it as much as he is. It is hard to imagine, especially in situations such as these, that this man is the equivalent of an entire army, and not once, in all the years I have been acquainted with this man, have I ever seen even the smallest mark on his body.

He stops me, placing his hand over mine, taking the cloth away. Kissing my hand slowly, he parts his lips and whispers, “ why are you still wearing that?” motioning to the tattered gown I am currently wearing. I begin to wonder, if he puts on a façade such as the one he did today, to get me into these…predicaments. He is the only man who ever makes me feel this way, that I am his. Before I allow him to touch me, I place a hand underneath the left strap of my gown and slide it away. Letting it fall to the floor with a gentle thud, he watches my now naked body with such interest. Taking his hand, I lead him to the pile of blankets and furs that we share, and lay down, pulling him with me. As I watch him…watch his beautiful, unmarred body, I begin to believe the rumors I have heard from the men. I begin to believe that his indeed the demi-god they say his, submerged by his own mother in the river Styx. He wakes me from my reverie with a kiss, soft and tender. His hand runs from my neck, to the rest of my body. Deepening the kiss, I moan…and he shushes me. He is always gentle, and even now it surprises me.

My arms wrap around his broad shoulders instinctively, burying my head in the crook of his neck. His hands are busying themselves once more with my body, and I am ashamed that he has this effect on me. Sliding down my chest his hand grasps my breast, making me gasp. He chuckles and continues his assault on me, taking my breast into his mouth, he sucks slowly, swirling his tongue and biting occasionally. “Achilles…” his name escapes my lips, and it fuels his ego. Relinquishing his grasp on one breast, he moves to the other. The heat that is flowing from between my legs is immense, and it increases when his skilled hands slip between my thighs. I am sure that I have prepared myself, and yet I still gasp when his fingers slip inside me, teasing me, stroking me.

Evidently my chest is no longer interesting to him, and he leaves a trail of sloppy, wet kisses down my belly, and his mouth wraps around my womanhood. His tongue is enough to make want to scream…My hands, grasping fistfuls of his golden hair, moaning, thrusting upward, craving more. And of course, because I want to badly for him to continue, he stops. “Calm yourself priestess, I never knew you enjoyed this so much”…I glare at him and before I can say anything, he thrusts inside me. Crying out his name, he continues to plunge into me. I am frantic and wildly my arms find his shoulders again.

Roughly, he takes my legs and slides them over his shoulders for better access, and I am not complaining. My hands, now empty, flail wildly above my head, gripping ground and cloth. His lips claim mine again, and it feels once more like I am on fire. Feeling myself nearing my breaking point, my soft mewling becomes erratic screaming. And amidst the white burning heat that finally fills my being, I hear him moan and grunt coming immediately after me…he never was the loud one.

I watch him intently, and he locks eyes with me. He pulls the blankets over us, and lays his head down upon my chest. And even after what we have just done, my mind wanders to my dead cousin. Every time we do this, that is what I think of…it is betrayal. I look down at him, and say nothing when I see his eyes wet with tears…obviously being haunted by his own demons at the moment. Placing my hand against his head I cradle him to me, fighting back my own.


…I had wanted to talk to him about so many things…but I will just wait for tomorrow.