Briseis looked upon the scene before her in silence, her eyes half-closed. Her body was so battered and bruised; it felt impossible to get up. Lying down, it was as though all the exhaustion had sunk into her body and pushed the air out of her. She watched numbly as Achilles struck down men with the branding stick, still glowing red hot from the fire. He moved with precision, striking down the men before him, his eyes burning with infuriation. His skillful inflictions turned the branding stick into a deadly weapon.
Because of me? Or his pride? A thought filtered through her mind but thinking about it only worsened her headache and she pushed it aside.
With her face half buried under the fine sand, she could taste the salty grittiness in her mouth. Her breathing was soft and ragged and she curled her fingers around the tiny grains. The soft sand was so comforting to her wrecked body and finally her eyes closed, she did not care anymore. The shouts and noise around her carried on but she no longer focused on it, the only thing her heard was her slow breathing.
She opened her eyes slowly as she felt her limp body being lifted off the ground, the sand on her dress spilling off softly. And she found herself lying in the arms of Achilles, the cool material of his top pressing against her cheek. She let out a startled murmur, but the faint rasp that she made went unnoticed. Briseis raised her eyes up slightly to him; his eyes were hard and cold and they stared straight at the vast black sea ahead.
Almost instantly she lowered her eyes again, afraid that he would catch her gaze. She did not need to deal with an uncomfortable moment in this already uncomfortable situation she was in.
Gradually she found herself lost in her own world, slipping in and out of reality and her own thoughts. Her eyes almost closed, she stared at the material of his top, feeling the warmness of his body through it. Her fingers brushed lightly over the coarse cloth before she caught herself and dropped her hand. Her thoughts were muddled and confused; she did not know what to think of Achilles and she was unsure of what stand to take. For certain she would never give in but she was uncertain as to thank him, cooperate with him, or to continue with her plan and kill him.
Soon, with the gentle bounce that she felt with each firm stride he took, she was lulled into an unsettled sleep. As she her eyes finally fluttered shut, she felt him shift and his gaze beared down on hers. His arms tightened measurably, pressing her tightly against his chest. The taunt, leathery feel of his arm lay next to her cheek while his fingers had gained a protective hold about her waist.
Briseis wanted to protest and shake him off, but at that moment, seeing the strange soothing aquamarine blue staring back at her and huddled securely in his strong arms, she surrendered to the ironic comfort of this moment, and rested with her frail body enveloped in the safety of his presence.
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Thank you for your reviews. This is a short chapter, unfortunately, but I have just returned to school and it has been terribly hectic. I hope this is enough till the weekend comes. So sorry for such a long wait. Thank you.