The young cloaked man made his way past the escapees of the fallen city of Troy, he moved swiftly and stealthily like a warrior. The people were not easy to pass by and there were so many he wondered if he could get to her in time. He needed to see her face and tell her that he would give anything to be part of her world again. His piercing blue eyes were seen by a little girl clutching her mother. She couldn't have been more than eight years old but when she saw those eyes she knew who he was and she clutched her mother tighter. Of course her mother put this down to moving through the almost pitch black tunnel but the little girl knew. He put his finger to his mouth and showed no sign of malice as he wished only to pass through undetected. He knew what he had to do and that he would never be accepted by her family or her people but he needed to see, if their love was as stronge as he thought, if she needed him as he needed her, if she would leave all that she had ever known and go with him, no specific place, no where to call home, except each other.

Nowhere out of the darkness of the tunnel Paris still hung tightly onto Briseis whose eyes were wide open and fixed on the dagger that wasn't too far from her delicate hand. Paris was determined to get everyone out. Helen was not far behind neither was Andromache and her son. The fact that Briseis's family would be present to witness her kill her cousin did not phase her in anyway, the grief was too much, the easy way to make it right would be to kill him and that was what she was going to do.

Achilles was starting to get attention as he pushed his way past the hoardes of fleeing trojans but he couldn't slow down. Only the gods knew if he would ever see her again. He couldn't bear it if she was lost to him. The gods would make such a mistake as to part her from him they would regret and live to see Achilles bring about their destruction. He needed her, he couldn't breath when he thought that he would never touch her again. Who would protect her? Who would watch her as she slept? Who would stroke her cheek and tell her that she was more beautiful than Helen of Troy, more beautiful than aphrodite.

Suddenly he saw her, her blue garb, her soft hair floating behind her and her cousin Paris holding her close, this wasn't going to be easy. But it was never easy, Paris wouldn't stop him from being with her. He didn't blame him for trying his best to kill him for he had killed Hector and Hector had killed Pratrucleus, the death had to stop sometime.

Paris leaned into Briseis and his face was full of sorrow for her, 'Briseis please forgive me for whatever it is i have done to you,' he whispered it and she could tell his words were true but that didn't matter to her anymore.

It seemed to happen very slow, Briseis taking the dagger, plunging it into Paris's side, him falling to the ground, the rush of people and the stranger that took her away from it all. The cloaked man grabbed Briseis and whisked her through the tunnel as fast he could. He lifted her up with such strength and almost flew down into that darkness.

Paris lay dying on the floor as Helen held him in her arms and told him how everything was gonna be alright, Andromache cried her stoney tears once more. Briseis did not fight her kidnapper as she had nothing to live for, her will to fight was gone with the death of the murderer and the life lost of Achilles. Briseis thought logically it was only natural that she take her life next, to be with Achilles of course.

The mind of Briseis was s lost with the soul of Achilles that she did not think straight. But she did not know who held her and would hold her for all eternity.

The worst is over know and we can breathe again,

i wanna hold you high and steal your pain away,

because i'm broken when i'm lonesome

and i don't feel right when you're gone away,

you're gone away,

you don't feel me, anymore...