DISCLAIMER: I do not and never will own Troy. The only character I do own is Adara. And sort of Apollo, but I didn't make him up....I just made up his personality and stuff. I didn't create him though.
Author's Note: This is just the first chapter, it will go on, don't worry. I don't expect you to love it, after all it's just something that popped into my head while I was watching Troy in English class. Please, be open to new ideas if you're going to read this, if not, go away. This has mature language and may, at a later time, have mature content. Therefore the rating is subject to change at any given time. Please read and review, any review is welcome. I welcome criticism, I promise not to throw a fit about it, after all; I'm not perfect and there's always room to grow. But please, the one kind of review I will not allow is one bashing the plot line, if you don't like the idea of someone else loving and losing Achilles, then get lost. Bye Bye. :) Other than that, have fun and I'll let you read now. If you're still here, that is.
I watch him every night and every day. When I close my eyes at night now, I do not expect the dreamless sleep that all of my kind get, I expect to see him. And I do, every single night. I see his beautiful blonde locks, his beautiful green eyes, and every other aspect of him. I dream of him holding me, I dream of him dancing with me, and sometimes I have sleep visions of him. This is when my dreams take me to the real love of my life, and I get to watch him sleep even as I do the same. My heart hurts for knowing that my love for him is forbidden, is cursed by my mother and father.
I pace this way and that, dragging a hand through my long black hair. Why does the day always take so long? I long for the solitude of the night, when I can go to him. When he finally falls asleep and I can watch him without him knowing my presence. I close my eyes and find the time in my head. 6:03 p.m. The day is almost over, but I know that he won't fall into a deep enough sleep until at least midnight or one in the morning. He will have one of those sluts with him until then. I close my eyes again and try to control myself, my body shaking with rage at the very idea of another woman moving underneath him.
Time passes. It is different for me than it is for a mortal woman to wait for the night to come, I can blink my eyes and make the time pass so quickly, you'd think I could time travel. That isn't true, I don't think anyways, I can't go back at least. I do this now, wanting it to be twelve thirty already so I can go to him and know that he is asleep. And then it is half past midnight, just like that, eight and a half hours went by with relatively nothing happening. I make sure that my father isn't up and about, though I know he isn't, he's too…occupied to be up around now.
I leave from my balcony on my side of the…I don't know what the name of our 'home' is the mortal tongue. Suffice it to say, it is bigger and better than the castles and palaces of your old kings. Though of course it is not the best in my world. I go through the doorway and onto the marble balcony, ready to fly away and go find my love. Soon I am beside him, and I see his beautiful face framed by his lovely blonde locks. I close my eyes once more, imagining that it is me that lays beside him right now, rather than this common brunette, imagining that it was me that he had made love to.
I feel pain, again. I fall to my knees and gasp in air, wishing that I hadn't given in to this new way of life. I am still what I was, I will always be like that, but now I feels as the mortals do. And pain attacks me now, pain in my throat and chest and a stinging at my eyes. I know what it is, I feel it whenever I see him with a woman and punish myself by wishing it was me. I know it will never be me, he could never love me, not even in the simple way he 'loves' these women. A tear slides out of my emerald eyes, and I gasp trying to wipe it aside before it could touch the dirt of the tent I am in. But no, I am too late, and the crystalline drop touches the soft dirt.
"Damn it, no!" I curse softly under my breath, not caring that my love could wake at any moment and realize that one of my kind is kneeling in his modest tent. My hands rush to the ground where the droplet fell, whispering words of denial and negativity, wishing that what was happening wouldn't. But I can feel it underneath my hands, though I desperately try to stop it, as it ignores my quick wishes. A small depression forms underneath my hands, filling in with water as soft and sweet as the tear that had fallen from my eyes. I move my hands, hoping this is all that will happen, but what I expected to see is there. My signature stone, a black rose carved out of black opal lays in the middle. "No…No, no, no!" I hiss, shaking my head. He can't know I was here, least of all that I cried on his ground. He will think that one of us hates him, that it is an ill omen. I reach into the pool and wrap my small hand around the black rose and tug at it, wanting to pull it out and run away.
What do you think happened? It stayed, that's what happened. I was not meant to pull it out, I don't know if anyone was. I stand up and cross to the bed where he lies, caress his face, and press a soft kiss to each of his eyelids. I do this every night before I leave him, this time I do it sooner than usual though, not able to stay here with my signature mark in his ground. I will come back in a few hours, invisible of course, to watch and see how he reacts to it.
I am home and I fall into my dove feathered bed and sob against it, knowing that nothing will come of my tears in this realm. I have been a fool to indulge myself by watching a man who does not even live in the country that my father gave me for my birthday. You see, my love lives across the ocean from me, for my father built his home over one of the countries that worships him. It was his country, but my past birthday of nineteen he gave me the country, and he intends to introduce me to the civilians of it on my next birthday, he wants me to get used to it before. It would have been acceptable were I to have a little bit of a…what do you call it? A crush on one of the princes or some well known man of my new country, my father would have laughed and talked me threw it. But I love a man who lives far away from me, and his country will soon be going to war with mine. I know this already, don't ask how.
Time passes and I fall into a kind of 'sleep' of sorts. It is now five in the morning. I pull myself into the folds of invisibility and leave again, to see my love. He stirs in his bed and begins to wake up, I hold my breath and wish he would just go back to sleep. I wait and watch, hoping that he will go back to sleep, forget about the morning.
And then he stands up.