Disclaimer: Warner Brothers and Homer (who is undoubtedly turning in his grave). The quote is by Jim Rohn.

Reviews REVIEW: W0W!!! I'm surprised by the number of reviews, and the opinions on the sequels (I see that b and c are getting lots of attention). Keep on reviewin'!!! And special thanks to new reviewers!!!

Chapter Subjects: Achilles and Briseis.

Language Note/Summary: This story starts out with Achilles hearing Briseis' cries, the rescue, etc. Briseis, meanwhile, is wondering whether or not Achilles can really be a good person, and also the conversations between them that is featured in the movie. I use a whole lot of lines from the movie in this story, and I have also taken the liberty of moving lines from earlier and later in the movie. I'm trying to balance out the opinions, I hope its good, and also I'm including more of their thoughts. I think you guys will like this chapter!

Announcements: Please, REVIEW, notify me if you have a copy of the SCRIPT, and read the NOTE at the end of the story. Again, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

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Taming a Wildflower

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"One person caring about another represents life's greatest value."-Jim Rohn

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I hear her screams. They were high-pitched and seemed to rip the very breath out of my lungs, as if I were the one screaming. Briseis.

Agamemnon. How dare he?

My actions have many times been called rash. My actions have often resulted in bloodshed; many say that Agamemnon's death will be on the tip of a Myrmidon sword. Menelaus is now in Hades, killed by Hector.

My sword I have not picked up in many days, but now I do not hesitate to slide it from its sheath. It feels hot in my hands. It is familiar in my grasp. Slowly, I remember of all the places I have gone with this sword, of the men who have met their end on it, of the man who carried it before me; Peleus, my father. I do not hesitate to step out of my tent and toward the side of camp from where the screams are coming from. I will not hesitate to kill them, if they have harmed her.

"Bitch!" They taunt her. She reaches across and slaps on of them, hard. I smile. A wild one, now, is she? I do not smile when I see the brand which one of the men are holding. He brings it close to her arm, and she flinches and struggles, but her struggles are fruitless. She won't escape, this I know. The soldier grins.

He is not grinning when I thrust the brand to his neck. No, he is choking, gurgling, trying to get air through his roasting windpipe and I slit his throat. The other two fall away quickly. Aye, it is best if you leave, men of Agamemnon.

I sweep her up in my arms. She wriggles a little. The fabric of her dress is torn and dirty and I can spot bits of dried blood. And on her rich, full lips, a cut is bleeding sluggishly, but is stopping. Her hair matted, and I wonder if it would be possible for a comb to be run through her dark brown tresses.

When I lay her down on the floor of my tent, she immediately shrinks away from me. Why wouldn't she?

I bring a basin of water, and dip a rag in and wring it, before bringing it to her cut lip. She shies away, and swats at my hand. Again, I try to clean her cut, but she swats at me harder. Fine. I toss the rag at her face and she ducks.

"Don't worry. You're safe now." She does not speak, and does not look up.

"You needn't be frightened of me. I won't hurt you. And you're the only Trojan I can say that to." She does not speak. An awkward silence.

"You were brave, to fight them." Why do I feel so nervous?

She snorts. "Courage? Please, a dog has that kind of courage to defend itself when it is attacked."

She speaks. I find truth in her words. The soft moonlight lands on a platter of fruit, fresh and taken from a farm a few days ago, on one of the little islands where we stopped to "rest" on our journey to Troy.

"Eat." I offer the platter, but she only looks at me as if I am mad.

"You will be punished." So, she speaks again.

"Punished? For what?" Does she think that Agamemnon will punish me?

"You know what. For desecrating Apollo's temple." Now, it is my turn to snort.

Her voice rises a little. "Do you think that the Gods will let that go un-punished?" Priests know nothing of Gods. Gods are men with spears. Gods are men who can kill.

"Then what is he waiting for?" I say it mockingly. She fumes at my words.

"The right time to strike."

She is furious, for I, Achiles, son of Peleus, insulted the almighty Gods. Like a wildflower; a flower, certainly, very beautiful; but wild also, and one who needs to be tamed. A little like Patroclus.

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" Let me tell you a secret, something they don't teach you in your temple," he said, voice low, sending shivers down by back. "The Gods envy us. They envy us because we are mortal, because any moment could be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. We might never be in the same place again, we may never experience the same thing again. You will never be more lovely than you are know." He thinks that I am lovely? "Knowing that every moment could be our last makes it so much more intense. Our curse- our mortality- is in fact our greatest blessing."

I daubed at my cut, careful not to push the sand crystals into it. I thought about his words. They made sense in a way. But they were idiotic. To mock the Gods!

"I thought that you were just a dumb brute. I could have forgiven a dumb brute."

Am I provoking him? I roll a grape back and forth in my fingers before popping it into my mouth.

He doesn't snore, apparently. They seem to rumble the very earth upon which I lie. Of course, he has not taken me to his bed. Yet. I cannot imagine…

A small flash catches my eye. His dagger! I look back towards his sleeping form, and scuttle quietly towards the weapon. I pick it up. It's heavy. I can't believe that in a time like this I can still think about how heavy his dagger is.

Legend says that it takes ten men to lift his ash spear. His sword he allows no one to touch sword, other than Patroclus and probably his father. His dagger is heavy enough. The sand leaks between my toes as I walk towards his bed. As I position myself above him, in the perfect decision to strike, I think about if this is the right thing to do.

He saved your life. He is a killer of your brothers. He has not harmed you. He is a monster. I think back to the day when I was taken at the Temple of Apollo. Into the mist went my life. I think of the kind priests who were killed.

Slowly, I lower the blade. It is almost touching his neck when his eyes open. Just in time I stop myself from screaming.

Was he awake the entire time? They are intense, a blue of like the wild sky above. They are deep. I know that they have seen men die. I find myself admiring them. I find myself drowning in them.

"Do it." Hesitation? No, I sense none.

"Aren't you afraid?" I ask. How can he not be afraid, even if he be the greatest warrior the world will ever know?

"Every man dies." There is nothing but calmness in his voice.

"If… if I don't kill you, many more will die." It seems reasonable, does it not?

"Many." He speaks as if he were thinking about the meaning of the word. He has already killed many.

"Go on, then, do it."

Before I can react or reply, he is on top of me. And all I have ever known comes crashing down and flies away from me.

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NOTE:Here is how I am going to handle the sequels:

Sequel A: (the original ending), is going to be the ending included in A Ripple on the Surface.

Sequel B: (the one where Achilles doesn't die), will be in a separate fic, as will Sequel C (where Hector lives) and D (where Paris dies). They will not be one chapter fics, unless I don't have get any reviews or whatever. I will also notify you in the chapter where Hector is supposed to die, of

Sequel C: Here are the titles which I am considering. If you have any title ideas, please post them in your review.

Sequel A: The Silence After

Sequel B: All in Good Time

Sequel C: At the Edge of an Ocean

Suggestions! Comments! Reviews!… So, go ahead and push that review button. (Yes, that one right there)