"My world, so full of light had went dark," a woman sat alone, thinking her own morbid thoughts. Her appearance was equally as depressing as her thoughts; disheveled, unbound hair was strewn about her, and dried blood caked her face, but despite this her presence radiated something, a certain candor, a certain aura, the reason the soldiers had saved her while not even looking at the others.
Saved, was probably not the correct term. Her body still had its breath, but what of its freedom? With hands tied behind her back and positioned so all she could stare at was a wall of darkness, for this woman, liberty, for which always had in plenty, was in abundance no longer.
She had heard the stories. Of course not from proper Trojan maidens, but servants in the palace, who gossiped as they emptied chamber pots and straightened the mess of royalty. The Greeks were heartless with their woman, especially if they were royal. Menelaus, King of Sparta ravaged different girls every night, although his wife Helen was the legendary beauty spoken of on all sides of the Aegean Sea. The maids and dancing girls could bear his old skin full of wrinkles and faked pleasure at his touch, only thinking of the purse coins he would throw at them when he was finished.
Being of royal blood, she did not have to worry that need for money would ever force her to succumb to such circumstance of the maids and dancing girls, pretending to fake physical pleasure with old men. Of course the kings and princes of Troy practiced better behavior then any Greek royalty she heard of.
If living under her uncle's care had taught her anything, it was honor and the utmost devotion to the gods. His blind faith had carried over to her, causing her at eighteen to take the vows of a priestess fating her to a lifetime unknowing of a man's love or touch. Her faith was not the only reason for her vows of virginity. Her oldest cousin, and heir to the throne was ideal in every way, he was a loving father, fiercely devoted husband, and servant of the country. He opposed senseless killing as much as she, yet fought because it was his duty to his people. Her other cousin, also a prince was foolish in the ways of the world, and dallied with countless women, who may or may not have been available, was the most handsome man she had known. She had loved him only as a sister loves a brother, yet no others could compare to his good looks. Being kin to such men, so honorable, dutiful, and handsome, no other man she had ever met could compare. Her practicality, in addition to her faith, forged her decision to become a priestess.
Now the she sat, cousin to a prince, niece to a king, a priestess whose vows were still fresh, as a captive to the enemy troops.
Voices grew louder and the entrance flap on her captive hut opened. Light flooded in and caused her eyes to water, she had been left too long in the darkness.
"We found her in the temple, we thought you might want something to play with," a grizzly man hinted, still feverish from the excitement of battle.
Briseis slowly turned to face her captor.
Author's note: After seeing the movie on Sunday, I was itching to read a fanfic on a Briseis/Achilles, and since there were such a small number of them I decided to write one myself. I know that this type of story will soon become common and seem overdone as more people see the movie, but I hope that you reading enjoy my version. Please review, I don't mind criticism as long as its constructive. Also considering its the first chapter, the plot might not seem so apparent, but it will come within the next few chapters.