Replies to Reviews
ChrissyKat – No, this is NOT a oneshot. :) I have every intention of continuing (and finishing!) this story.
Amester – Yeah, I noticed that whole "one night" thing after I wrote it. ;) And as for the bolding, I like it...like you said, it makes it easier to read.
Lazydoll06 – Wow! That makes me feel good about myself. Glad it caught your interest.
Briseis swore.
Stopping in her task of gathering firewood, bending down to look at what had caused her ankle to receive a sharp jolt of pain. Not seeing anything, she cast a glance towards the heavens, and continued forward. However, another sharp jolt of pain caused her to cry out. Dropping the wood she had gathered, she sat down on a rock, glaring at her ankle. Then, bringing it up so that it rested on her other knee, she looked at the bottom of her sandal. She then saw the guilty party that was causing her pain.
As she drew the long, sharp thorn from the heel of her foot, she winced. "Curse these thorns...even with sandals..." She ran a finger along her foot, glaring up at the bright sun. Then she sighed, her brown eyes returning to her ankle. In a rush, all the memories she had tried to repress over the past three months came rushing back.
He had been shot in the ankle. He had been invincible everywhere...except there. He...he was dead. Briseis swallowed, brushing the back of her hand over her eyes to rid herself of the tears that were gathering up. She would not cry. Not anymore. It wouldn't do anything...wouldn't bring him back to her. She stood up, looking at the wood she had dropped to the ground. For a moment, she considered leaving it there. But then she made her way over to it, picking it up. She was resigned to her life now...
The weather was warm. It always was on the Island of Lathos. The gods had been good to the surviving Trojans by allowing them to find this place. It had taken a month's wandering to come upon it, and even that had been by mistake. Their ship had gone off course...they had crashed upon the island. And though it certainly was not Troy, it reminded Briseis of her homeland in some ways. The sun was brilliantly sunny, as if reminding her and her people that Apollo still watched over them. They were surrounded by the ocean, and sometimes Briseis would go down to the shores and sit there, her eyes closed. With the sun on her face, and the sound of the waves in her ears, she could pretend she was home.
To be sure, it had been hard at first. Seven out of the thirty-nine surviving Trojans had died...many had grown sick. And then there had been the sacrifices. The pure, Trojan blood had mingled with those of other cultures. Some of the men had taken foreign wives, and now...now there were forty-one of them. "Them" being the people who now lived upon the Island of Lathos. However, Helen had accepted the foreign women, and the Trojan women had followed her lead.
Over the months that had followed, Briseis had become close friends with the Spartan beauty. Though Helen was several years older, the age different provided no barrier. Perhaps it was because Helen was of a different culture, and had loved a forbidden love, that caused Briseis to turn to the blonde woman for comfort... There must have been something that drew Briseis to the woman, for Helen alone knew of Briseis' love for Achilles...
Briseis paused on a small hill that overlooked the tiny village that was her home. It had at first been rawhide tents, but now there were wooden houses, and a storehouse. Home was beginning to come together...yet without him, her world would never be complete. Sighing, she made her way down to the village.
A chorus of greetings reached the Trojan princess as she entered the village, and five small children ranging between the ages of four and seven ran up to her. "I will take the wood, lady!" "Did you see a bear?" "Is not the sky blue?" "Mother says we can go swimming!" "I cut my finger." The last comment made the Trojan Princess pause, and she handed the wood to the eager seven year-old boy, who dashed off importantly to carry the wood to the storehouse. Kneeling down, Briseis took the four year-old girl's hand and looked at it seriously. "Well, you have indeed. And how did you manage it Desma?" The little girl made her reply in complete and total seriousness, causing Briseis almost to laugh, "The baby bit it." However, she managed to remain serious and reply solemnly to Desma, "What baby, Desma? There is no baby in the village." However, as she stated that, the other children began speaking, "Yes there is!" "Three of them!" "With claws!"
Now completely bewildered, Briseis sighed. "Babies do not have claws Adonis." However, the six year-old boy replied in utter somberness, "These ones do. All baby birds do." Briseis stood up, eyes wide. A smile broke over her face, and she kissed the little boy on the forehead. Then, like a young child, she ran up the street as fast as her dress and sandals would allow her.
Stopping in front of ones of the houses, she knocked upon its door. For a moment, no one answered it. Then the door swung open, revealing Hagne, the village healer. She was an elderly woman, with kind green eyes and long silver hair. Her face was a mass of wrinkles when she smiled, and smile she did at the sight of Briseis.
"Ah, come in, lady. The gods are certainly playful. The morning you leave, the eggs hatch." Hagne's coarse voice did not vocalize the traditional greeting. She never did. Briseis grinned, stepping into the house. In the silence, a soft squeaking reached Briseis' ears, and her grin widened. Moving over to the nest of cloth and straw, the brown-haired Trojan princess peered in. There were three of them. Though still young, the chicks' eyes were wide open, sharp beaks opening and closing repeatedly. Briseis sat down beside the nest, thanking the goddess Artemis for the life given to these hawks.
One of the young men had found the falcon nest while exploring the island, and later, he and three others had gone back and taken the eggs. Briseis had felt sorrow for the parents of the eggs, yet if she and her people could train the falcon chicks to hunt as they grew older, they would have a good source of food. Each day, she had come to Hagne's house to look at the eggs...and now the chicks had come into the world.
"How will we feed them?" Briseis glanced over at Hagne, concern in her voice. The older woman gestured to the meat on the table. "Very small bits of that." Briseis nodded, looking back at the young birds, resisting the urge to touch one of their fluffy bodies. "Have they been named?" She glanced up at Hagne, brown eyes curious.
Hagne smiled, shaking her head. "I thought you might wish to. I believe that the dark one and the light one are male, and the speckled is female." Briseis looked back at the birds, pondering them silently before saying, "The dark one shall be Apollon, named after our god." Hagne lifted an eyebrow, making her way over to the makeshift nest. Gesturing to the lighter male with a withered finger, "Should not the lighter one represent the Sun God?" Briseis shook her head, smiling up at the elderly woman, "No, dear Hagne, for little Apollon represents the fact that, even in our darkest hour, Apollo did not abandon us. And the female shall be 'Delia' after Apollo's sister Artemis."
Briseis' eyes lingered upon the last chick, who's fluffy feathers were a pale gold, like sunshine... Her heart skipped a beat, her memory returning to a man who seemed to have hair made of sunshine...eyes the colour of the ocean...and a smile that could make her catch her breath...
"Lady?"
Briseis glanced up at Hagne. The older woman was frowning slightly, curious as to why the brown-eyed princess had suddenly become so silent. Swallowing, Briseis pushed the memories back from her mind, focusing instead upon the last chick. "Leontos. His name is Leontos." Briseis sighed... How often had Achilles referred to himself as a lion? Many times...and he had not been the only one. In all the tales of Achilles that she had heard, he was always at least once referred to as "The Lion."
Standing up as more memories began sweeping over her, Briseis turned to the door. The dark room was calling forth memories that were too painful for her to remember...yet how she treasured those memories. As she pushed open the door, she turned over, glancing at Hagne. In the depths of the old woman's green eyes, Briseis saw slight worry. But she lingered no longer...instead, she walked out into the sunshine.
"He's kicking." Helen laughed softly, placing a hand upon her belly, looking joyously up at Briseis. The two women were sitting in Helen and Paris' home, weaving baskets. Scrambling over to Helen, Briseis glanced timidly up at the older woman, who laughed, "Yes! Feel him! He is strong...strong like his father." Briseis reached out and put her slim, tanned hand upon Helen's stomach. Sure enough, she soon felt a small kick. Giggling, she sat back and picked up her weaving, "And you are sure that it is a he?" Helen nodded, smiling peacefully, "Yes...I am." The blonde woman looked at Briseis happily, but then the happiness faded from her face.
"Cousin...what is wrong?" Briseis glanced up, about to deny the accusation, but then simply sighed. What was the point of denying everything to the one person who would understand? She swallowed, setting down the weaving she had been working on. Chewing on the bottom of her lip, she stared down at the earthen floor for a moment before looking up at Helen, "I cannot rid myself of thoughts of him. He is there...in the sunlight, in the ocean...I hear a man's footsteps, and my heart leaps, hoping it is him. A flash of golden grass, and I think of his hair. It is nonsense, I know. But I cannot forget." Her voice quavered, and she sniffed, yet no tears would she allow to fall.
Pity for her cousin-in-law filled Helen's eyes, and she too set down her weaving. When Briseis had first confessed her love for Achilles, Helen had not known what to say. She could not be angry, for hadn't she loved another man that she should not have? Placing a hand upon Briseis' shoulder, Helen spoke softly, "Do you so wish to forget?"
Briseis sighed, "No...for memories are all I have of him. And yet it hurts. My heart is heavy, and nothing can lift it. Everyone sees it, yet they believe it to be my longing for Troy. You are the only one who knows, my dear cousin. And I shudder to think of what anyone else would say...especially Andromache..."
Silence reigned in the small house, for Helen had no words to say to that. Her presence and comfort was all she could give to Briseis now. For she knew what it was like to love, and believe any chance of happiness to be impossible. She knew what it was like to think of a man, and feel utter sorrow clutch at her heart. She knew...
Briseis stood suddenly, and Helen looked up. "I'm going for a walk... I will return for the evening meal." Helen nodded, smiling gently at her cousin. "Go...and do not be afraid to remember."
Briseis left the village as swiftly as possible. As she left the dirt path in favor of the surrounding field, she began to run. Gathering up her skirts, she simply ran. The impossibly blue sky had not a cloud upon it...there was nothing to shield her from the sun that bore down upon her. Sweat began to gleam upon her tanned skin, yet she kept going. She knew not where she went...and nor did she care. Each step was bringing her further away from the place that everyone she knew had begun to call home. To her, it was not home. It would never be.
Home was in his arms.
Author's Notes
Ok, so this chapter is not my best, but I sort of like it. :) So, the Island of Lathos is an actual island in Greece, so I figured I might as well use it. Let's pretend that the island is uninhabited (except for the Trojans of course!) okay? Humour me. Also, the falcons mentioned are "Eleonora's Falcons" which is a species native to Greece. It actually prefers islands to mainlands, so I figure that it would make sense for them to be on Lathos. Anyway, here are all the Greek name meanings:
Desma: pledge or vow
Adonis: lord (or "my lord")
Hagne: chaste; pure
Apollon: form of "Apollo"
Delia: reference to Artemis' birthplace of Delos
Leontos: lion