My Dying Day

They say when someone dies, their life flashes before their eyes. For me, it was
no different. Fragments, snippets and odd moments of my life played before me. It felt like I was reliving my life in the few minutes before the job was done.

I was frozen, and for some reason the few times with him snuck into my mind.

I was tied so tightly to the pole that my wrist were instantly bruised but that was nothing compared to the endless agony of waiting in the tent anticipating what he'd look like. But when he finally stepped through the leather straps, I did not turn my head but stared resolutely at the tent patterning, conjuring up frightening images of the might Achilles.

"What's your name," he asked.

Curiosity got the better of me as I turned and glared at him. He was nothing like I expected though a beast would have been better. I quickly turned away refusing to answer his question.

"Did you not hear me?" he questioned stupidly. If it weren't for my situation, I would have laughed. Of course, I heard him; I just didn't think he was worth my answer. But my former resolution of not speaking to him was broken as hatred and loathing over took.

"You killed Apollo's priest!" I spat, still not looking at him.

"I've killed men in five countries but never a priest." He retorted.

"Well then your men did." I said, finally turning my head and facing him. But quickly turned around as my cheeks burned into a blush. He was the first man I had seen naked. But my dignity was not going to be crushed by an arrogant, naked man. "The sun god will have his vengeance."

"What's he waiting for?" he asked mockingly.

"The right time to strike."

There was a long silence, I thought I had triumphed over him but he wasn't as stupid as I thought.

"His priests are dead and his acolytes captured. I think your god is afraid of me."

I nearly laughed again. Who did he think he was?

"Afraid?" I said scornfully, looking straight into those piercing blue eyes. "Apollo is master of the sun. There is nothing..."

"Then where is he?" he interrupted in the same scornful tone I had used.

I refused to answer. Apollo would have his vengeance. "You're nothing but a killer!" I snapped. "You wouldn't know anything about the gods."

I must have angered him as several drops of water landed on me. I knew he could have killed me with just one swift motion but I didn't care. I studied the patterning angrily, refusing to reply to him for the second time.

"I know more about the gods than your priests," he stated, "I've seen them."

I heard him advance closer towards me, and I inwardly fought control. I could feel his penetrating eyes cut into my skin.

"You're royalty, aren't you? Spent years talking down on men." He stated, as if it were a fact.

When I did not reply, he lifted up a lock of my hair and sniffed it. "You must be royalty." He confirmed. I still would not answer but stared obstinately away. "What's your name?" he tried again.

The patterning of this tent was very elaborate and beautiful.

I heard him crouch down on the floor and a dagger was removed from a sheath. Fear engulfed me as I prepared for the end but no pain came, just the unexpected of free wrist. For a moment, I was grateful but only for a mere moment. He was still a Greek killer. After a few minutes of my silence, he muttered irritably. "Even the servants of Apollo have names."

I looked at this man, straight into those ocean eyes and found myself spitting out my name. "Briseis." I looked away cursing myself.

"Are you afraid, Briseis?" he asked, not in a menacing or mocking tone as I expected.

My head quickly snapped back as he spoke. I was once more staring into his clear, bright blue eyes. I wanted to say no I wasn't, that he couldn't scare me but I knew he would know it was a lie. "Should I be?" I answered, genuinely curious. Should I be frightened of him? I had heard stories of his ruthless killing but he had displayed none of it here.

He looked at me for a long time, and pride made sure I stared right back. I felt strange. I should have felt hatred but instead all I felt was curiosity and another emotion I could not identify.

The flap parted, "My lord... Agamemnon requests your presence." I couldn't see who was talking. "The kings are gathering to celebrate the victory."

I looked away but I could feel his eyes were still one me.

"You fought well today."

The man was obviously flattered. "My lord..."

The man left and I continued eying him. The inquisitiveness came back.

"What do you want here in Troy? You didn't come for the Spartan queen."

"I want what all men want. I just want more." He replied truthfully, clearly not embarrassed or ashamed.

I could not misinterpret his meaning. There was only one thing that men wanted and that was glory. I could see the greed and hunger for glory in the Trojan soldier's eyes, I could see it in Paris's eyes and yes if I was being truthful I could even see the longing for a little but of glory in my dear cousin Hector eyes. And now Achilles had come to Troy, to have his glory not caring if he was killed or not. Who would do that?

"You don't need to fear me, girl," he said roughly, interrupting my thoughts. But then after a brief pause, "You're the only Trojan who can say that." He said threateningly.

And with that, he was gone.

The memory faded away into black but soon was replaced quickly by another.

Many hands touched my body as I was thrown about the group of savage Greek Warriors. Insults were being thrown at me as I screamed in terror and fear. It felt like a nightmare, I couldn't see or hear clearly; barbaric faces were blurred together, there was a pounding in my head and my whole body was in pain and agony. It felt like this was happening in a whole other world.

"Bring her to me."

A man leered at me and I felt a surge of power well up in me. My hand slapped hard across his face. It was foolish I know, but if I was going to die, I might as well make an impression.

"Hold her!" someone ordered.

I knew the end was near when I saw the burning iron in the mans arm. I wanted to scream, shout, yell but I was frozen..

I closed my eyes, making silent prayers to Apollo as the scorching iron came nearer and nearer but instead Achilles came.

I vaguely remember flashes of golden hair, screams of terror, bodies jerking, the burning iron pushed into a neck and me gathered up in his strong arms but it was all black from then on.

When I regained consciousness, which was soon after, I struggled in his arms. This was the closest I had ever been with a male that was not a relative and I was terrified. Men like him only wanted one thing or so I thought.

He finally dropped me, gently, back in his tent. I edged closer to the back, glaring at him.

"You're hurt," he said, gruffly. I could see in his eyes he was trying to say it kindly but he obviously wasn't use to speaking gently to anyone. I wondered if I should be appreciative for this treatment. I retreated further towards the back of the tent, wary of his treatment. He was nothing like I thought.

He silently rinsed a towel, while a cautiously watched him. "To fight them, you have courage."

"To fight back when people attack me," I replied aghast. How is that courage? It was mere self-defense. "A dog has that kind of courage."

He leaned towards me, to my horror and I found that I could move back no further. His hand was touching my chin and apart of me wanted him to clean my face. I was horrified at this thought but it was true. But pride forced me to push him away. I still did not trust him. He gave me a frustrated look and he moved closer but again pride drove him away. Annoyed he threw the towel at my face. Pride again, now mixed with anger made me fling the towel back at him. I eyed him as he exasperatedly dropped the towel back into the basin and turned away.

I quickly took the chance and grabbed the cloth. I slowly rinsed it in the basin, acutely aware that he was watching me.

"Eat." He said, offering me a plate of food.

I looked at him with disgust. Did he thing I was stupid enough to eat food offered from the enemy.

I slowly pressed the cool cloth against my wound. It stung, but the coolness of the water gently soothed it and I felt the pain diminish slightly. I eyed him carefully trying to judge him. An excellent warrior, no doubt. Probably never lost a battle I concluded. Obeys no one, confident he would always get his way especially with women I thought bitterly. Cared about noting except the glory he would gain on the battlefield.

"I've known men like you my whole life." Arrogant and uncaring men were everywhere.

"No, you haven't," he replied in an conceited but quiet voice. That just induced me to go on.

"You think you're so different from a thousand others?" I snapped. "Soldiers understand nothing but war. Peace confuses them."

"You hate these soldiers?" he asked, curiously.

"I pity them," I said, meeting his eyes.

"Trojan soldiers died trying to protect you," he said scornfully. "Perhaps they deserve more than your pity."

I just glared at him.

I brought the wet cloth to my face again, thinking about the thousand of Trojan soldiers who died just yesterday. And the most horrifying thing about it was not the blood, not the broken bones but that some of them wanted to fight, to kill, to die, just for some glory.

"Why did you choose this life?" I asked. Why would anyone chose the life of a warrior?

"What life?" he asked, genuinely unaware.

"To be a great warrior." I said, sarcastically.

There was a slight pause before he answered. "I chose nothing, I was born and this is what I am. And you? Why did you choose to love a god?" He was mocking me now. His eyes and tone were filled with enjoyment. "I think you'll find the romance one-sided."

This annoying, unbearable, arrogant man. "Do you enjoy provoking me?"

I could see from his eyes, he did but instead of answering, he said. "You dedicate your life to the gods. Zeus the god of thunder, Athena goddess of wisdom, you serve them?"

"Yes, yes. Of course." I answered, puzzled by the question.

"And Aries? The god of war who blankets his bed with the skin of the men he's killed?" He even sounded a bit disgusted as he said this.

He had stumped me again. He was the only man that had questioned my thinking and my beliefs and strangely, I didn't fell hatred but admiration.

"All the gods are to be feared and respected," I said quietly.

I suddenly felt very self-conscious as his eyes bored into me. I ran my hand through the tangled mess of hair as I avoided his penetrating gaze. He cocked his head to one side forcing me to look into those piercing bright blue eyes.

"I'll tell you a secret," he said quietly. "Something they don't teach you at your temple."

He edge closer towards me, but I didn't move away as I did earlier. I was not scared of him anymore but curious to know what he was going to say but still the closeness of him made me gulp.

"The gods envy us," he said, his emphasizing the last two words. "They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last. Everything's more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now." I glanced down at this comment but quickly looked right back up to his eyes, not wanting him to know what affect he had on me. His eyes pierced mine and I felt my insides flutter. "We will never be here again." He finished off.

He kept his eyes on me and they looked at me anxiously even hopefully.

No priest had ever told me and in my years as a priestess, serving faithfully for Apollo no one had ever dared think of the gods as anything but superior and divine. Now here he was stating that the gods envy the mortal, the priest would have reprimand such thought but he was right. It was painful to admit but it was the truth.

I silently took a big plump green grape from the platter and took a small bite from it. A rush of juice and flavor filled my mouth. The taste of food felt so strange in my mouth and I swallowed with difficulty before saying. "I thought you were a dumb brute." I saw him give me an arrogant smirk but it didn't anger me. "I could have forgiven a dumb brute."

I could feel every emotion as if I was reliving that memory but soon another memory came to torture me before my time was done.

"Do it"

I nearly dropped the blade as I almost fell back in shock. I thought he was sleeping but I had been foolish once again.

He turned his expressionless face towards me, cold eyes now staring into mine.

"Nothing is easier." He stated voice impassive. He was right, I had only just to apply more pressure to the blade and he would be gone but I couldn't. I didn't hate him now. I had just realized he was really my savior. I shuddered at the thought of what would have been done to me with those barbaric soldiers.

"Aren't you afraid?" I blurted out. I nearly laughed at my stupidity. Achilles frighten of a priestess?

"Everyone dies." His face and voice were emotionless. "Today or fifty years later, what does it matter?"

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me forward, daring me to do it.

"Do it." He forced.

"You'll kill many more men if I don't kill you," I said, reassuring my self more than threatening him. Was I doing the right thing?

"Many," he said calmly as if he was talking about eating food, not taking lives.

I stared into his mesmerizing eyes and it seemed I was lost in them. In the back of my mind, I was forcing myself to push the dagger but I just stared hypnotized by his eyes.

Suddenly I could feel him against me as he rolled me over. I gasped and in a second, he was on me, his body pressed firmly down on mine. I could feel his hands roaming my leg, pushing my robe forward. My skin burned wherever he touched and I could feel the fluttering in my stomach return again. I still had the blade at his throat but he still leaned forward. His face was coming nearer and nearer and I knew what he was going to do. Logic should have triumphed instead of emotion. I should have plunged that dagger in him but instead my grip loosened on the dagger until it fell, noisily on the floor.

His eyes were still staring deeply in mine and I felt myself entranced in them again but when his lips met mine, I shuddered slightly and closed my eyes, allowing this new emotion to engulf me.

The wonderful memory disappeared and I thought for sure my time had finally come but the gods were cruel and another memory played before my eyes. Another wonderful memory.

It was another wonderful and passionate night and we lay bare in each other's arms. I was pressed against him, the heat radiating from his body warmed me and I felt the burning sensation all over again. The way he was looking at me, it felt like I was a goddess.

"Am I still your captive?" I asked in a whisper, breaking the silence. I gazed deeply in his eyes. I felt so comfortable, so at home then I have ever felt before. It just felt right.

"You are my guest," he replied, his voice was thick with emotion.

I contemplated what he meant and finally murmured. "In Troy, guests can leave whenever they wish." My gazed never once left his.

"Would you leave now?" He asked faintly.

We stared at each other, lost in the other ones eyes and I knew I loved him. I knew he was a Greek and a merciless killer but I loved him. He had shown me nothing but gentleness and kindness and I was eternally grateful.

After a few minutes, I asked. "Would you leave this all behind?"

"Would you leave Troy?" He asked at last, looking at me intensely.

Neither of us spoke again as we just stared, entranced by each other.

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place...

The memories flashed through me, his voice still echoing in the haze of my mind before
thrusting me harshly back into reality. I remember we had only been together for a few days before I was returned to my rightful home, Troy. But I felt a part of me lost forever without him.

Then the final battle between the Greeks and Troy began. Agamemnon had laid siege to the land of Troy and he had finally succeeded in breaching the walls I had once thought impossible to break. Soldiers, mothers, children, elderly bodies littered the whole of Troy. Fire raged nearly every building.

I ran and ran seeing destruction everywhere. The mighty walls of Troy had fallen and everywhere I could see there was nothing but fire and blood.

"Paris! Andromache!" I cried, but nobody could hear me. I was lost in my own city.

I dashed into an enflamed hall. "Paris!" I cried frantically.

A saw a frightened horse charge towards me and for a moment I was unable to move but luckily my sense kicked in and I scrambled back. The horse galloped passed and I could hear my heart thumping wildly.

"Paris!" I screamed pleadingly. "Paris!" I ran, trying to find Paris in this chaos but I knew it was next to impossible.

Screams, yells and cries filled the night and I tried to run away from it but I couldn't. I couldn't see anything as I stumbled across the bloodied battlefield and when I finally looked up; I saw the statue of Apollo. I sank to my knees praying for forgiveness, praying that Paris alive, praying that Uncle Priam was alive and praying that my beloved was alive. I didn't know if they would hear but I kept on praying anyway.

"Too late for prayer, priestess." Said a cruel voice from behind, grabbing my shoulders. I gasped knowing too well, who it was.

He grabbed my hair, indescribable pain filled me, and he tugged me up. His cold slimy hands clutched my chin and I nearly felt my neck snap.

"I almost lost this wall because of your little romance." He said, smirking at me.

Hatred filled me and all I wanted to do was kill this horrible man. I realized I was holding a dagger I had grabbed earlier from my bedroom and slowly and silently I angled it correctly, ready to strike.

"You'll be my slave," he said mockingly. "A Trojan Priestess scrubbing my floors." His hands tighten against my skin and I felt the pain increase but it just gave me strength. "And at night..." he continued giving me an arrogant smirk but that was it. I plunged the dagger straight into his neck. Achilles was right that night. Nothing was easier. Nothing was easier than pushing the blade through the hardened skin of a warrior. Nothing was easier than taking life and for once I knew how Achilles felt. I watched Agamemnon fall to his knees with a shocked look on his face that gave me immense satisfaction. But that was before I realized that I had taken a life, even if it was a man that would kill many others. I quickly pulled the dagger out; disgusted at myself, just as I felt a throbbing ache in my back. The guards seized me and I cried out. I had escaped death once again but it didn't matter I was going die anyway.

"Hold her." A warrior cried, sword ready. I had a strange feeling of de ja vu and I remembered when he had saved. It seemed so long ago. But he couldn't save me now, I was doomed.

But I saw a flash of gold hair and for a second I thought I was imagining it but the loud screams of the wounded soldier were real. I felt so weak and my limbs suddenly gave way as I collapsed loudly on the floor. A blur of armor and swords were all I saw.

"Come with me." I heard his soft gentle voice as he gathered me up just like last time. I thought everything was going to be okay now but then I saw Paris. His eyes were red with fury and I knew he wanted his revenge. It all happened in slow motion. I saw the arrow approaching slowly but I couldn't do anything. All I could do was scream, "Nooooooooo!"

It was too late.

The arrow pierced deeply into his ankle. His body arched and his head flew back in anguish as he cried out in pain.The chaos around me disappeared as I only saw the greatest Greek warrior fall because of an injured ankle. The gods were very cruel today. Vaguely in the back of my mind, I could feel him shove me gently away so I could not be hurt. I was powerless to do anything but scream and wail.

"Paaarrisss!" I screamed, pleading him to stop. The tears now ran freely down my face and the pain of watching him was worse then any pain I had endured. But I could see the want for vengeance in Paris's eyes and I knew nothing could stop him. He ran up the stairs to get a better aim and loosened a second arrow at him.

"Nooooooooooo!" I cried. But my cried were in vain, as another arrow was fired.

I saw Achilles removing the arrow and slowly stumbled forward. I could see Paris hesitate for a moment then aimed again and shot.

"Stop!" I shrieked. I dimly felt sharp jolting pains through my whole body as I pulled myself forward with my arms. I just couldn't muster enough energy to stand. "Please!" I tried again but Paris just shot again. For a brief moment, I felt hatred for Paris. Why wouldn't he stop? But I knew the answer, I didn't blame him for what he was doing but why wouldn't he listen to me. I gathered up the small amount of energy within me and with determination, I stumbled to my feet and ran to Paris. The pain was excruciating but I just ran quicker.

"Paris! Don't!" I screamed. But I could see the hurt in his eyes for Hector and he shot again. I spun and saw him slowly crumple. My heart shattered in a million pieces. He looked down at himself and pulled away the last arrow from his body but there was still one remaining in his ankle. I flew to him and knelt down looking in those penetrating blue eyes and I immediately felt better but I knew nothing was better. He held my face and started intently at me as if he was memorizing my face and maybe he was. The tears fell freely down my face. Why was this happening?

"It's all right." He said soothingly, wiping away me tears. "It's all right." No it wasn't! I wanted to scream but I didn't have the strength too. I could only shake my head.


He held me close and I felt my stomach flutter. I could hear him breathing in the scent of my hair and I knew he was memorizing it. He gazed at me again, with the clear blue eyes I loved, and said faintly. "You gave me peace," there was a pause as I frantically caressed face wanting to touch it, wanting to feel his skin, "in a lifetime of war." He finished. I gazed at him, loving him more than ever and his lips met mine. It was a passionate and fiery kiss fueled by desperation.

"Briseis come." Paris's voice broke the kiss.

No, I didn't want to go. I just wanted to be with him.

"Go." Achilles commanded. "You must." I shook my head. I was not going to leave him.

"Troy is fallen. Go."

No. I shook my head obstinately.

He embraced me and I could feel his touch and smell his scent. I didn't ever want to leave him.

"We must go. I know a way out." Paris's unwelcome voice broke in again.

"It's all right." He said calmly. "Go."

And I knew I must go. I looked at his face for what I knew was the time, memorizing every handsome detail so I could remember him forever and kissed him. He kissed back, this time a soft kiss, full of need and regret. He had never kissed me this way and I knew it would be the last one we shared.

"Go."

And I did. It took all the strength but I left him and my heart was breaking all over again as I did. Paris grabbed me and rushed me up the stairs and I just stole one last glimpse at the greatest warrior that ever lived. He smiled weakly at me and I knew he would be the only man I would ever love.

If I had my way I would have kept him in my arms forever, until, by some natural cause
or miracle I could join him. And I knew he would be waiting for me on the other side of the river. That was all that kept me going through the quiet repetitive cycle of life.

You see, when I saw him fade away that day, my life had indeed flashed before my eyes...he had flashed before my eyes.

Because Achilles had been my life.

I will love you. Until the end of time.