Okay! My never-ending-story must continue... and here's it...

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Chapter 12

'My lord! My lord!' The flaps of Achilles' tent flew open, and in dashed Eudorus.

Achilles was still in bed with Briseis in his arms. He looked up drowsily from his comfortable position. Eudorus was covered with blood. There was a fretful expression on written on his face that worried Achilles immediately. Achilles frowned, 'Wait for me outside, I will be there at once.' He pushed away the sleeping form of Briseis gently, and jumped off the bed. He found a robe and put it on hastily. Eudorus was standing outside of the tent next to the flaps, very worried.

'What is it,' asked Achilles calmly, yet his voice held a hint of concern.

'It's Patroclus, my lord,' Eudorus said breathlessly.

The two hurried to Patroclus' tent, and found him leaning on a post, still conscious. Achilles hurried towards the young man, and observed his wounds. Patroclus was wounded on his left shoulder, there was also cuts over his body, but his life was not in danger. Eudorus quickly cleaned the wounds and bandaged them with cleaned cloths. Eudorus left the tent, and Achilles observed his cousin closely while he was resting. He was panting slightly, and he looked peaceful and calm, although Achilles could sense that his cousin was worried. Patroclus' brows were a bit furrowed. Achilles wondered what had happened. He looked around the tent for some intimation but there was none. Achilles felt puzzled until he found that something was missing: Briseis' cousin, Chryseis.

'They have taken the girl?' Achilles asked composedly.

Patroclus opened his eyes a bit, and he nodded.

'What had happened? Explain.' Achilles demanded.

Patroclus looked at his cousin, and Achilles' eyes were the same—as calm as ever. They showed no hint of curiosity and pry. But he knew his cousin was worried about him, and desperately wanted to know what had happened just now. So, after his little rest, he started, 'I, I was in the tent with that girl,'

'Who?' Achilles forced him to say Chryseis' name.

'Chryseis,' said Patroclus, blushing lightly. 'We're in the tent; we were talking.'

'About what?' Achilles asked, following up his little 'victory' with hot pursuit.

'About... anything.' Said Patroclus.

'Then? What happened?'

'A few, I mean about ten soldiers came in. Agamemnon's men.' Achilles watched as his cousin grew angrier and angrier each second.

'Why don't you fight them?' Achilles asked. He knew very well that Patroclus fought for everything he wanted. Everything he thought it was not fair.

'I've fought, and I've killed a few.' Patroclus said, and pointed towards the trail of blood on the ground which led to the outside of the tent. Achilles nodded, and ushered him to continue.

Patroclus then continued in a crestfallen way, 'I've thought of killing all of them. How dare they take away my girl...'

Achilles raised an eyebrow, 'When had she become your girl?'

'No,' Patroclus said immediately, trying to defend himself. 'I mean Chryseis.'

Achilles remained silence, implying his cousin to go on. 'But Chryseis told me to stop. She said the soldiers only took the orders of the leader, and they had not sinned.' Achilles frowned. Briseis and her own cousin were so much alike. She had told him to kill no one when she was held by the two guards in Agamemnon's ship. She was in danger, yet she still consider of others' safety and was ready to forgive. That was what Achilles found Briseis attractive: Being strong and fiery, yet cheerful and gentle, with a heart as light as a feather. Achilles lowered himself and looked at his cousin in the eyes. They were very much alike too. They were both strong and fierce. Yet Achilles himself was more of a composed man than his cousin, always being hasty. They looked a bit alike too. Both had blue eyes and gold locks. But his own eyes showed no emotions, when Patroclus' eyes always betray his own feelings and thoughts.

'Shall we go find her?' Achilles suggested.

'No,' said Patroclus shortly. 'She asked for it. She didn't want my protection. And I don't care.'

'You don't care? Are you sure?' asked Achilles skeptically. He knew he had to break the stubbornness of the obstinate boy in front of him. 'Then I will be the hero to save her. Maybe I can earn her affection.'

Patroclus stood up abruptly and looked at Achilles furiously, disbelievingly. 'I thought you are already satisfied with Chryseis' cousin!' he nearly scolded.

Achilles was laughing furtively at his cousin. He was too stubborn to admit to himself that he liked Chryseis very much. 'But if you don't, who will be saving her? I thought the most suitable person will be no other than me,' said Achilles in mocking wittiness. 'Maybe Agamemnon is already playing with the delicate girl, or he may already thrown her to his men,'

Achilles had wanted to continue to provoke his cousin, but Patroclus had already reached for his armor and breastplate. Out of the tent he strolled, throwing open the flaps. When he was a few steps out of the tent, he still had not realized that he had forgotten the most important thing he needed—his sword. Achilles reached for the sword from the rack in the tent, and followed the spirited boy. They drew near the ship of Agamemnon. Patroclus was still strolling towards the ship anxiously, worrying about Chryseis, and was oblivious to the world around him. When Patroclus had started to climb the stairs, Achilles tapped his shoulder, and had him the sword, 'I wonder what the joke will be like when you reached for your sword and find out that there is nothing held to your waist.'

The boy blushed again, and thanked Achilles. Achilles nodded him to climb on, to save the girl he liked, just like what he himself had tried to do a few days ago.

Achilles walked back to his own tent at a snail's pace. He worried not for the boy, as he was a good warrior, and the boy's fighting skills were taught by him. The only thing was that his cousin was too curt. Need not worry. He has to learn to take care of himself anyway. He has to gain experience. He kept on pacing towards his tent. He smiled. He was now sure that Patroclus would not stop him from going back to Greece. His cousin himself had also grown care for another girl, and he must know how it felt also. He had acted like he was willing to die for the girl.

Achilles reached his tent again, and entered quietly, not wanting to disturb the girl on his bed. He reached for a chair, positioned it beside the bed, and sat down. He gazed at the sleeping form of Briseis in front of his eyes. In the moonlight, everyone who looked at Briseis would not believe himself was looking at a mortal woman on earth. Briseis' dark, chestnut brown curls strewn prettily around her head. Her eyes were closed, and her thick and long lashes fanning along her lids. Her lips looked incredibly soft and lush, and again, Achilles had the strongest desire to taste them again. The dim moonlight made its own way into his tent, making Briseis' already fair and radiant skin glow. Achilles held his breath, and stare at her more intensely. Suddenly she looked like a goddess, high up on Mount Olympus, out of place among the mortals of the earth. He did not want to blink, he was quite afraid that if he took his eyes off her, she would vanish. Achilles leaned a bit backwards on his chair, thinking deeply. Briseis was too perfect for him: too gentle, too tender and sweet. How could he, a cold-hearted warrior, make her leave her homeland to follow him around, taking care of him? This was not the way. He did not understand why a girl like Briseis was willing to leave her homeland for him.

Maybe... because of the safety of her homeland? That was the only conclusion Achilles could draw. Maybe he should not force her to leave Troy with him when she asked him when he would leave the war behind. He was already in love with the girl long before he realized. That was why he had wanted her so much. He could not understand it, but the moment he saw Briseis, he thought he had found peace through all those years of fighting and battles. As long as he could still touch her, he knew he would never die, not at all.

Achilles knew it, if he sail away with Briseis back to his homeland, he would never again ask for glory. He would find solace in the form of Briseis, and would never want to leave her again.

Before Achilles realized, it was already morning and the sun had started to rise. He had been so obsessed with his own thoughts that he did not even realize that the last light of the stars had faded into the rising sun. It was Briseis' exquisite voice which had woke him from his deep thoughts. 'Why were you out last night?' Achilles looked up, a bit startled by Briseis. 'You look confused. What is it?'

Achilles looked at the girl gently. 'Are you willing to leave Troy with me? Be honest, please.'

Briseis' eyes widened with surprise, why will Achilles ask such question?

'Why won't I?' she said. She was starting to get worried too.

Relieve flashed through his eyes, and again, Achilles found his strength, which was drained from his body when he waited for her answer, slowly drawing back to him.

'I wonder how Chryseis is...' Briseis said hazily, stretching her arms and legs.

Achilles did not hesitate, and told Briseis the whole thing happened last night. And Briseis looked worried. 'What if Agamemnon isn't willing to give Chryseis back?'

'Patroclus would save her.' Achilles said confidently.

'No. He can't. He can't find her.' Briseis murmured.

Realization dawned him, and they both looked at each other. Briseis quickly got dressed and they rushed out of the tent towards Patroclus', hand in hand.

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I must sleep now. Writing this chapter had drained all my energy.

So, I truly hope that you like it.

Thanks so much again, for the reviews.

As for Trojans, my dear reviewer, I want to tell you that I'm not planning on making Chryseis and Achilles fall in love...

I'm so sorry to disappoint you... But I'll make someone to fall in love with Achilles.

I'm still planning on it.

See you soon.