Chapter Title: Peace

Long after Achilles had fallen asleep again, Briseis had finally decided on what to do. She hated the fact that she had no control here, no control over her fate because he was the one who held her life in his hands. She hated the fact that he was taking her apart piece by piece, destroying every fragment of belief that she had based her life upon.

An impulse had burst out in her mind, a crazy urge that seemed to also be the only sensible action. She would kill him.

'He deserves death,' she persuaded herself. 'Think of how many Trojans and others have died through his sword alone. Think of how he ended Helenus's life with one, careless swipe.'

The image of Helenus's severed head flashed through her mind and she remembered the icy, inhuman look in Achilles' eyes before he had decapitated Helenus. There had only been one purpose in those eyes, the purpose to slaughter all opposition before him.

The memory had convinced her. The only way for the killer to die was to kill him.

She would need a weapon, something to strike quickly with as he slept. It was incredibly dark inside the tent. The pitch-black darkness settled over her like a demon of paranoia. As she crawled blindly through the tent, she kept glancing over her shoulder to assure herself that Achilles had not awakened. The warrior did toss and turn in his sleep and a small groan would escape from his lips every now and then. Every time he did make a sound, she would whirl around, expecting him to charge at her any minute.

Doubts and second thoughts flew into her mind, but she found the pile of discarded armor that Achilles had stripped of. The impulse came back, spurring her on. She selected a dagger, rusty, but still sharp enough.

She stood slowly and tiptoed to stand over him beside his bed. A narrow stream of moonlight spilled across his face and she noticed the beads of sweat trickling down his temple. 'He's dreaming a nightmare,' she realized.

And this fact made him seem more human, more vulnerable. She slid the dagger under his chin and against his throat. And then, the closed lids of his eyes opened to reveal the pure, clear blue orbs that made her freeze.

"Do it," he whispered, looking straight up at her, holding her gaze.

'He wants me to kill him?' she wondered in shock. 'Why is he so confident? Even a warrior as fierce as he is has no shield now. I could sink the blade into his throat before he even tries to attack me.'

"Do it," he repeated, cocky, still giving the orders.

"You aren't afraid?" Briseis whispered almost desperately. Now indeed, her impulse seemed pathetic and totally stupid. How could she, a tiny temple priestess, have even dreamed that she could kill Achilles?

"Every man dies," he shrugged, the dagger lightly scraping his skin. "Whether it be now or fifty years later does not matter to me."

His hands had grabbed hers and she shuddered. Her own hands were totally covered by his. He could break each of her fingers like snapping a twig. But instead, he forced her hands to press the dagger deeper.

"Kill me," he ordered.

Her fingers loosened their grip around the dagger. "No."

'I said no?' she wondered in amazement. 'I must be the greatest fool in all of history. Here I have the invitation to kill Achilles and I say no!'

Then, his hands flew up to grasp her arms and in a single moment, he had pulled her down to roll her under him, under his warm body. She was trapped.

Dazed, she could only look up into his eyes, those beautiful, amazing eyes. But there was no coldness in those eyes anymore. There was hunger and want, and still beneath, caring.

His hand that was underneath her leg slowly traveled up, his fingers pulling off the dirty strips of cloth she wore. The roughness of his fingers brushed against the bare skin of her thigh, the feeling chilling and yet, electrifying.

And gently, he lowered his head to kiss her, caressing her lips. There was sweetness in the kiss and she wanted more of it. She answered back, her hands dropping the dagger and then circling around his neck to tangle her fingers in his golden hair, her grip pressing her against him. His kiss deepened then, devouring her mouth.

His other hand that lay beneath her back rolled her over to lie on top of him. He slipped the ruined dress over her shoulders and pushed the cloth to her waist, ripping it in half then and tossing the remains carelessly on the ground.

Briseis had lost, surrendered. She had discarded her priestess robes just like that. And she hated herself for it, but at the same time, Achilles had consumed her soul and it was all she cared about.

There was no great Trojan War. There were no promises of glory by killing hundreds. There was no Troy, no Greece, no one else.

There was only the two of them, entangled in each other in the night and that thought settled into her mind, settling all the chaos and she felt for the first time in so long,

Peace.

Long after it was over, Briseis lay against him with his arm over her waist. She had fallen asleep, exhausted.

Achilles noticed a thin chain of shining gold encircling Briseis's smooth neck. He fingered it thoughtfully, remembering the boy that he had killed at the temple. That boy had worn a chain of gold just like this and he remembered seeing Briseis scramble toward the boy's body to snatch something.

Flashback

"You want to know why I tried to kill your cousin?" Briseis had screamed. "Because you murdered mines, a man who has never hurt you."

End Flashback

Achilles let go of the chain and slowly placed a kiss on Briseis's forehead.

"I'm sorry."