To Bridle a Storm
folder
S through Z › Troy
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,437
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Troy
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,437
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Troy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
To Bridle a Storm
Don’t own – Don’t sue
Chapter One: The Acceptance of Fate
The light slowly faded, as the last of the Sun’s rays melted away to leave a sky illuminated with colours which Briseis felt words would never fully describe. She sat on the rough ground at the very edge of cliff, watching the waves crash against the menacing rocks far below. Sunset was the only time of day when Briseis would not be missed – her chores done for the day and the women having retired for the night after feasting she knew that she could escape to her haven at the cliff-tops of Sounion, sat in the ruins of the temple of Poseidon. Here she sat and watched the horizon to the east knowing that Troy, her beloved homeland, was just beyond reach. There were many days when this knowledge had dissolved her into tears; up here, in a place that nature was slowly reclaiming as its own. Here Briseis allowed herself to mourn, to mourn her life, a life that she did not deserve, that the gods had cruelly thrust upon her; her proud nature never allowing a living soul to witness such weakness.
She had been taken as a child – a royal child of 12, from the court of Priam, whisked away in the night by a nursemaid who had sold her for a few gold coins. She had been brought across the sea to the land of the Greeks: a land that held no beauty, no laughter, no decency. Refusing to submit to oppressive will, Briseis had been treated cruelly, passed from master to master; her proud, regal nature refused to be broken or seduced – no matter the severity of beatings she received.
Eventually at the age of 16 she had been brought to the palace of Themistokles, an old King who ruled a land full a hard god-fearing people, the mountainous northern kingdom of Messpia. Briseis had been put to work as a handmaiden to Semele, the youngest daughter of Themistokles, and a maiden devoted to the worship of Apollo. Briseis was pleased enough to accept this position, the worship of Apollo filled her with a sense of use and duty. Semele was a reasonably kind mistress, though Briseis always felt that she was jealous that her regality paled in comparison to the easy respect Briseis seemed to command – even from the royal family. For 4 years Briseis lived an acolyte’s life, performing her duties daily with quiet acceptance of her fate, her soul and her spirit gradually disappearing into a vacuous abyss.
Chapter One: The Acceptance of Fate
The light slowly faded, as the last of the Sun’s rays melted away to leave a sky illuminated with colours which Briseis felt words would never fully describe. She sat on the rough ground at the very edge of cliff, watching the waves crash against the menacing rocks far below. Sunset was the only time of day when Briseis would not be missed – her chores done for the day and the women having retired for the night after feasting she knew that she could escape to her haven at the cliff-tops of Sounion, sat in the ruins of the temple of Poseidon. Here she sat and watched the horizon to the east knowing that Troy, her beloved homeland, was just beyond reach. There were many days when this knowledge had dissolved her into tears; up here, in a place that nature was slowly reclaiming as its own. Here Briseis allowed herself to mourn, to mourn her life, a life that she did not deserve, that the gods had cruelly thrust upon her; her proud nature never allowing a living soul to witness such weakness.
She had been taken as a child – a royal child of 12, from the court of Priam, whisked away in the night by a nursemaid who had sold her for a few gold coins. She had been brought across the sea to the land of the Greeks: a land that held no beauty, no laughter, no decency. Refusing to submit to oppressive will, Briseis had been treated cruelly, passed from master to master; her proud, regal nature refused to be broken or seduced – no matter the severity of beatings she received.
Eventually at the age of 16 she had been brought to the palace of Themistokles, an old King who ruled a land full a hard god-fearing people, the mountainous northern kingdom of Messpia. Briseis had been put to work as a handmaiden to Semele, the youngest daughter of Themistokles, and a maiden devoted to the worship of Apollo. Briseis was pleased enough to accept this position, the worship of Apollo filled her with a sense of use and duty. Semele was a reasonably kind mistress, though Briseis always felt that she was jealous that her regality paled in comparison to the easy respect Briseis seemed to command – even from the royal family. For 4 years Briseis lived an acolyte’s life, performing her duties daily with quiet acceptance of her fate, her soul and her spirit gradually disappearing into a vacuous abyss.