Troy

CHAPTER 1

The second she saw Paris raise his bow, Briseis’s first and most obvious thought was that she needed to stop him.

So she screamed. And when he fired anyway, hitting Achilles in the heel, she continued to scream.

When he continued to fire, catching Achilles a couple more times in chest, her second thought was that if she was going to stop him it was going to have to be with physical force. But by the time she got close enough to do anything, he’d already fired another and her Achilles was on his knees. She watched in horror as he tore out all three arrows with a mixed expression of pain and shock on his face.

She bolted back towards him.

She was panicking. He was going to die. She knew he was going to die, and yet still she refused to fully accept it. Dropping to her knees before him, tears streamed down her face, she searched for something, anything to say to him. But her words refused to form.

She couldn’t help but choke on a sob as he cupped her face and whispered “It's all right, it’s all right…” Perhaps she couldn’t find the words but she found his lips. The kiss was filled with a heart wrenching agony. Emotion, tears, and wishes that they both knew would never come true. They pulled apart and he ran his hands over her face, tracing her every feature as she struggled to contain her sobs.

Paris stood watching. How could she be so distraught? That monster had killed her cousin. Yet there she was allowing him to fondle and caress her. He could barely stand it. “Briseis, come. Troy is burning to the ground, we must flee.”

She chose to ignore him as she and Achilles continued to hold each other. When she felt him sniff her hair and whisper “You gave me peace in a lifetime of war…” she knew his words were meant to be a good-bye, and right then she found her words.

“I’m not leaving you.”

He kissed her again softly and whispered again. “Go, you must… Troy has fallen. Go…” Her heart thudded madly in her chest and she shook her head in one fierce motion.
“No! I’m not leaving you. If I am to flee then you are to come with me.” The fact that she could see him fading only made her cries more desperate.

Growing with impatience and the fear that someone would notice them, Paris interrupted yet again. “Come, now Briseis! Leave him! We have not the time to waste.”

Shaking her head she clung to him. “Just get up. I’ll help you stand, please just get up. Come with us, please... I can’t leave you here…”

He took hold of her head and kissed her forehead. “It’s all right… just go… You’re cousin needs you. I’d do nothing but slow you down…”

Knowing that when he said ‘slow you down’ what he meant was ‘die in your arms’ made it all the worse.

Gripping the front of his armor she let loose another whimper and nodded solemnly. She knew she should go, run with Paris and never look back. And though her heart was breaking and screaming against it, she also knew it was not only what she should do but that she’d have to.

Swallowing down another sob she bit her lip and pulled him close to whisper.
“I will never forget you’re name Great Achilles. Your name and tale will carry throughout the ages. They will never forget you nor the love I hold for you… And I trust you’ll not forget it either… I shall see you again…” With those words she pulled back and kissed him one last time before standing and taking a step back.

Paris took this opportunity to grab hold of her arm and begin tugging her in the direction of escape. It took two stumbled steps and almost falling on her face before she could bring herself to look away from her fallen Achilles and begin running.

And it took everything she had left not to look back.

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~TWO WEEK LATER~
~In the home of a family friend far outside of Troy~

“Briseis, I wish to speak with you.” Paris called through the flimsy wooded door that separated the two. “Briseis please, open the door this instant!” Becoming more agitated with every second that passed he pounded a fist against the door.

“Well I do not wish to speak to you!” She called back furiously “Turn and take your leave!”

Paris sputtered and paced back and forth two steps before raising his hand to pound on the door again. A voice behind him halted his movement.

“Leave the girl be, she is distraught…Walk with me.” He knew who it was even before he turned. He sighed.

“But she’s being completely unreasonable. She won’t even speak with me.” When he turned to follow her he saw she held her son close to her breast. The boy was asleep and she looked about as tired as he felt, still weary from all that the Gods had thrown at them no doubt.

Her brow arched at his words. “Unreasonable? Am I to understand that it is her feelings on the matter that are unfounded?”

“Well yes! By the gods, Andromache, she won’t even speak with me!”

“Paris, You murdered the man she loved, what more did you expect?”

He whirled then, faced her head on with a fire in his eyes. “That man is the same monster who murdered my brother, your husband! Have you forgotten this so quickly?!”

Her hand lashed out and smacked him hard across the face before either could register the movement. Something hot and wild burned in her eyes. “No, I have not forgotten, nor will I ever. And by the Gods I pray he’ll burn for eternity in the deepest depths of Hades, but she loved him Paris, whether you can fathom it or not, she loved him and nothing you can say or do will change the fact that you’re the one who killed him. You took him from her and I doubt she’ll ever forgive you for it…” At her words the fire in his eyes had died and he looked a little dumbfounded, possibly a little guilty.

She paused, took a deep breath and swallowed before continuing “ I couldn’t forgive him for killing my Hector, and apparently neither could you… So can you truly blame her for not forgiving you?” She waited for a response but when none came she nodded softly. With that she lifted her chin and turned to leave him. “I must put to my son to bed…Goodnight Paris…”

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“Did you know him, Iantha? Achilles I mean…” Briseis asked softly as she wiped her nose with a handkerchief and stared into the cracked mirror at her red rimmed eyes… Iantha was one of the many women that the Spartan army had brought with them to serve as servants on the voyage and in the camp.

They had found her sitting next to one of the fallen Spartans and weeping. Apparently the fallen man had been her master and had also been very kind to her. Briseis had taken pity on her and allowed her to serve as her personal assistant of sorts. Not that she had much to do with her since Troy had fallen. Now they resided in the humble home of an old friend of the family and nothing was how it should be.

“I’d seen him about. Rallying the troops or training his cousin. I saw him with you a couple times, methinks he was very taken with you…” She trailed off when Briseis sucked in a sharp breath. “My apologies my lady, my intent was not to upset you. Forgive me…”

“No, no it’s alright. I’d hoped he was as well…” She set down her handkerchief and paused. She had that far off look in her eyes again. At first the look had worried Iantha but in time she’d gotten accustomed to it. It was the look of a woman whose heart was shattered. Every once in a while she would slip out of the depression that seemed to hover over her, clawing at what little was left of her sanity. But the second she was reminded of what she’d lost, she’d slip back inside, allowing herself to quietly drown. Every time her lady got that look she swore she could almost feel her own heart bleed. She knew that look well enough herself after all.

Iantha was snapped from her thoughts when Brisies spoke softly. “You know we talked about leaving once…While we laid together, I asked him if he’d ever leave it all behind. For a second everything seemed to still. Then he asked me if I’d ever leave Troy… and I never answered him. Not because I thought I wouldn’t, but because I was afraid I wanted to. To just pick up and leave with him… leave all of it behind, everything I knew and loved … Perhaps I should have…”

“The Gods must not have wished it to be so my Lady.”

“I suppose not… But the Gods are cruel…”

“My Lady! None should speak ill of the Gods lest they choose to smite you where you stand!” Iantha cried as she scanned the room as if checking to see if the Gods were lurking quietly in that very room.

A somewhat sad smile crossed over Brisies’s tired features as she picked up a brush and began combing out the knots.
“You hold such passion Iantha… It makes me wonder if he was right.”

“About what my Lady?”

“The Gods…He told me once that they envy us…” At the look of shock on Iantha’s face Brisies’s small smile widened slightly. “Because we are mortal, and any moment could be our last, everything is more beautiful because we are doomed.” She quoted him perfectly and her feature took on a far off and slightly blissful look with the memory.

Iantha frowned and gave an exasperated sigh as she got up from where she was to hand Brisies a clip for her hair. “It seems to me that this Achilles worried little for the wrath of the Gods. Did he fear nothing?”

That wistful smile replaced her far off expression as her eyes glistened with unshed tears and she slid the clip into place. “No… no, I do not believe he did…”

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The silence was almost deafening. Everything was so quiet, so dark. Where was he? Was he dead? Had someone truly managed to smite the mighty Achilles?

His body felt heavy, as if he couldn’t move. His limbs refused to operate and for a brief moment he wondered if he had any at all. If he had died and moved on to the afterlife would he even need a body? If not, and this was the afterlife, was it Hades? Was he finally paying for his countless sins and blasphemies?

He decided it mattered not. Dead was dead as far as Achilles was concerned, but was this how it would be from here on? Laying motionless and numb in the dark for all of eternity? The thought did not agree with him. For a man like Achilles, to be forced to lie still and simply take whatever was given, was a worse fate than any. Achilles was a man of action, and this was the furthest thing from it.

And then the silence shattered. A voice. He could hear a voice. It was faint and sounded far off. He tried to open his eyes but it was as if they were sealed shut.

“The men believe he is dead! Why must you tell them other wise? If he is to remain dead in the eyes of the world then so be it! Allow him to leave. Allow him to return home and raise a family!” The hushed female voice whispered with what he was sure was quite a bit of fury.

Another voice, undoubtedly male, answered with equal hush and fury “I did not salvage his body mind and spirit so that he could return home and breed! I did it so that he could continue to serve Sparta. So we could keep the greatest warrior the world has ever known. The warrior who slays thousands, wins a war almost single handedly and cheats death!”

“What you speak of is ludicrous! You pull him from the brink of death, then provide him with new life and in doing so steal the Glory he worked so hard to obtain. Do you truly believe he will desire to serve you after this? You are a fool.”

The unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh in one hard resound slap echoed though the space. “No woman speaks to me in such a manner! I will do with him as I please and that is final!” with that the sound of angry footsteps carried the male voice out of hearing distance.

And then there was no longer silence nor angry words in the darkness, nothing but the unmistakable sound of a quietly weeping woman.

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AN: I posted this one a while back but when I went back and read it a few months later I was horrified to find how many spacing and grammical errors there were. So i deleted it, cleaned it up, and posted it again. It probably still has grammar issues, which I apologize for, but I'm for the most part satisfied with it for now. I know this is one of the ones I really do want to continue, so I will eventually lol I have so many ideas for it swishing around in my head but I never seem to get around to sorting them out and getting them down. Anyways thnaks to anyone who reviews and hopefully I get around to sorting this one out soon.