This is not the usual Achilles/OC story. Hold on to your hats, ladies and gentleman, here we go! I do not own any characters other than Diane

Achilles frowned to himself as he walked down to camp, pleasantly surprised at how quickly it had been erected. His frown was caused by the war. He knew that it was just beginning and yet already he was tired of it.

Eudorus stopped him before he went into his tent. "My lord, the woman in there, the men found her unconscious in the temple. They thought… she'd amuse you."

Achilles slapped his second in command on the shoulder and went to enter. Eurdorus's voice stopped him once more, "My lord, her dress and hair are strange." Eudorus turned away and walked down to the men.

Achilles gazed at his back, trying to figure out what he had meant by the warning. The woman had been unconscious when they had found her? Apparently the Trojan priests were more violent than he had thought. Unhindered this time he went into his tent.

Blue eyes took in the young woman as he washed the grime and blood off of his body. She looked strange that was true. Her hair was straight, not curled as many women wore it. It was a beautiful color, but strange in its uniqueness. Achilles had never seen that color before, it was a silky bronze with red undertones and brought to mind the color of a bloodied sword. Achilles shook away his fanciful thoughts and examined the rest of her, moving towards her as he wrapped a skirt around his waist.

Her features were even, very pretty in fact. Her skin was pale, the clearness that only royalty got. Her mouth looked made for kisses, pert and a rich pink. He knew that she did not wear face paints, but that her colors were her own. His eyes moved down her body and he raised an eyebrow at her clothing. The woman's entire body was on display from the clinging cloth. Achilles did not recognize the make of the fabric, it was entirely foreign. Still he did not complain as her curves were obvious. Her sandals were also different; they seemed to be woven of gold dyed leather and were not the style he was accustomed to.

The woman's eyes fluttered open as he leaned over her. Achilles had a moment to realize that they were a deep green before the woman punched him with all her might.

Diane opened her eyes to see a strange man hovering over her. Acting on pure instinct she rammed her fist toward his face, splitting his lip before rolling to her feet in a fighter's stance. Warily she glanced around, using the man's distraction to take her bearings. She appeared to be in a fighter's tent, but where she was other than that and how she got there was a mystery.

Achilles rose a second behind the woman. His eyes spat fire as he looked down at her. "You struck me."

The woman gave him an insolent glare before replying sarcastically, "Well of course I did. What did you expect me to do, pull you down for a kiss?" When Diane saw that this was what he had expected she mentally rolled her eyes. Her keen gaze caught the shell necklace that the man wore and she swore under her breath.

Achilles saw the woman's eyes go to his necklace and heard her swear. He became even more surprised when the woman yelled out angrily, no, furiously, "THETIS!" before running out of the tent.

Shocked, his mother's name was not what he had expected to come out of her mouth, Achilles ran after her.

Diane ignored the surprised men as she marched down to the ocean. She didn't know that they men were more surprised by the fact that Achilles had to run to keep up with her more than they were surprised by her appearance. Diane screamed to the ocean, "Thetis you get your barnacle encrusted butt over here right now!"

Achilles had used up all of his shock and was steadily moving into anger. He had had a long day and wished things to go back to normal, NOW. In a low menacing voice he told the woman, "Do not speak of my mother that way again."

Diane spared the man a glance, this time taking the time to fully look him over. His eyes were an intense blue, the kind of blue she had only read about in books but had never seen for herself. His hair was wet and blonde, reaching his shoulders and drawing her attention down to his bronzed chest. Diane hid her blush at seeing his muscled chest and cried out again, "THETIS, NOW!"

Both Diane and Achilles started when Thetis's voice reached them from the water. "Now, now, Diane, don't be so upset with me."

Achilles could see the woman's, no, Diane's, frustration as she said in a dangerous voice, "Thetis, send me home, now."

"But you are so perfect for my son," the goddess said softly. Diane looked at Achilles with horror.

"HIM?" she screamed at the sea, in a complete panic. She did not notice that Achilles was insulted from her look and her words. "Thetis, you know I hate macho men! They are loud and irritating and,and," she searched for another fault and finding nothing she said again, "loud!"

Both Diane and Achilles could tell from Thetis's tone that she was in a snit. "You like Ares." Achilles looked at the woman beside him with more respect. His mother was one of the exceptions in that she lived with humans but Ares was not known for his fondness of mortals.

Diane sighed as her eyes looked over the water, "I tolerate Ares. That is only because he occasionally says something amusing. And I find his antics with Aphrodite somewhat funny, as do you." Diane looked down before meeting looking at where she thought Thetis might be again. Diane had a good sense for the gods and knew when they were about. Her voice had calmed dangerously so as she said, "Thetis, please send me home or I'll tell Poseidon who keeps stealing his chocolates."

Achilles remained silent during the exchange between his mother and the unknown woman. He did not entirely understand what was going on but knew enough to realize that his mother wished for the strange woman to marry him and that Diane was extremely reluctant.

Thetis's voice softened, but she ignored Diane's threat, "Diane, give him a chance. Please, I can't," the goddess paused before going on, "I can't lose him."

Diane looked at the water with pain filled eyes. She began to understand her aunt was getting at but she still wanted to go home. "Why me? I know at least twenty girls back home who would be happy to marry him. Why me?"

Thetis's sigh sounded like a wind going through a canyon. "Because the fates told me that his other half was in your century. You are the only one that could it be."

At the mentions of the fates Diane immediately muttered, "Silly busybodies."

"Busybodies they might be but I can't let my son die," the sea goddess said fervently. "Just stay a year. If you are still unhappy I will take you home myself. Please dear?"

Diane looked at Achilles, who she thought was wise for staying out of the conversation. She moaned, looking away, knowing she was defeated. She couldn't fight, couldn't stay mad at the tone of desperation in the mother's voice. Diane looked out at the sea. "On two conditions."

"Anything within my power," Thetis said immediately.

That last statement in itself told Diane how desperate the goddess was. Diane cursed herself for be softhearted as she said, "I need to get a letter to my parents, and I need my journal with a full supply of pencils. You know the kind I use."

"Right away," the goddess breathed, as if she didn't dare to hope yet. "Just write the letter, I'll get one of the Nymphs to deliver it. I'll bring you some suitable clothes as well."

Diane smirked, "My idea of suitable, your idea of suitable or Achilles' idea of suitable?"

The goddess laughed, sounding relieved. "I'll bring a mix." With that last remark Diane's sense of the goddess faded.

The young woman looked up, way up, at Achilles. "Where do I sleep?" she asked.

Achilles smiled down into his wife-to-be's green eyes, "My tent, we can set up some extra furs." The pair began the walk back up the beach to Achilles tent. The Myrmidons parted for them. They had only heard half of the conversation and the woman's careless comment of knowing Ares had them nervous. That combined with her strange clothing, accent and the fact that she was so swift that Achilles had trouble keeping up with her made for a heady sense of fear and respect.

Diane could see the emotions on their faces and reminded herself to watch her back. Fear could be a powerful motivator as could jealousy and she really wanted to get home eventually.

Achilles held the straps of leather out of the woman's way as she entered the tent before him. He found his gaze drawn to the sway of her hips, obvious with her tight clothing. He wet his lips with his tongue and then forced his gaze elsewhere.

Achilles had just gestured her to sit when Eudorus knocked tentatively on the frame of the door. "My lord, Agamemnon requests your presence. The kings are gathering to celebrate the victory."

Achilles sighed as he stood. He looked down at Diane and went to speak but she beat him to it. "It's alright. Go give him a few bruises, or if that's not possible a tongue lashing."

Her smile warmed him as he walked out of the tent into the hot Trojan sun.