A/N: Pronunciation guide: Achayus – A-Kay-Us & Phenelaos – Fen-Ayl-Oww-Us.
Thanks to Chibi for the proper spelling of Andromache.
A woman walked into the quiet marketplace of Phenelaos that the city of Troy had become. Sea merchants and seafaring ships took refuge on the beaches now instead of the majestic people of Troy. She looked around, hoping to catch a glint of her son's hair, dark like her own. Instead, she saw only the daily vendors and booths.
"Achayus!" she called out over the hubbub. She gathered her pale green toga and lifted its skirts so she could maneuver the walkways without getting snagged.
A hand on her shoulder made her tense. She turned quickly. Suddenly she was staring into the face of a man that looked vaguely memorable.
"Briseis?" he asked cautiously.
On her guard, she nodded slowly.
"I am, and you would be?"
"Odysseus, King Odysseus. I was a friend to Achilles."
At the mention of her lovers' name, she tensed. The usual feeling of emptiness and aloneness filled her heart and she felt a chill to the bone. In light of her sudden nausea, she remembered her manners and bowed, her dark curls falling over one shoulder and her necklace of amulets fell out of her toga.
"To what pleasure do I owe the audience of the King of Ithaca?" she asked innocently. He seemed to be genuine and sincere enough, but so did others.
"I am on a journey home. I am traveling the seas with my wife and son. Since I saw you last, I have seen Circe, met Poseidon and ventured further than I ever thought possible. Might I add that you have never looked more beautiful? My men and I have stopped here in Phenelaos to collect some supplies. How are you doing?" Odysseus said, his eyes showed true concern. "I have heard from the gossiping seamstresses that you are mother to the only son of Achilles."
"Please do not say his name." Briseis said weakly. "The rumors are true. Achayus is my son. I am searching for him now, I must go. Safe travels and may the gods be with you and your wife and son." She bowed low and turned quickly, looking left and right for her missing son.
"Briseis," Odysseus called after her. She stopped and turned to look at him. "He loved you. Very much, I can attest to that. By the gods will or not, he would have taken you with him. He would have left his search of glory to be at your side. Know this."
"I thank you King of Ithaca. Those words are kinder than most I hear these days. Now, I must find my son. It is very important. Cosseted travels."
As she walked away, she felt sick to her stomach, and when she was sure that the king of Ithaca was not watching, she threw up in an empty barrel. Curse you Achilles. She thought. For the power you have over me still from death is greater than I would have ever thought. Now, tell me o' great warrior, where is your son?
Meanwhile, Odysseus turned and stood for a moment and took in what Troy had become. A once majestic and holy city, reduced to a plain marketplace. His thoughts returned again to Briseis. 'Please, do not say his name.' She had asked. Was it simply the light, or had she gone pale. She wore a strange piece of jewelry, a leather rawhide strip with several amulets strung upon it. It looked vaguely similar to the once Achilles was buried with. But how could she have gotten it? He could swear he saw a haunted sorrowful look danced across her face. 'Tis a shame. He thought. That two so in love cannot be together.
Turning to look for his men and rally them together, he caught a glimpse of a tall man. Dark hair hung to his shoulders, which were wide and muscular. He wondered why this man had caught his eye. The man turned his face in Odysseus' direction and the sheer identicalness struck him dumb for a moment. The man looked like the spitting image of Achilles. The only difference, was the hair.
"Achayus! There you are! I have been searching high and low Phenelaos for you. The duels will begin this afternoon, are you coming?" a lean boy smiled widely embracing the man, well boy. Achayus, was that not the name of the child Briseis was searching for? Could this be him?
"Aye Philamean. I will be. I am registered to fight, but do not tell my mother. She would have my hide. I do not understand why she detests my competing in the challenges." He said patting the other boy, Philamean, on the shoulder.
Odysseus took this as his cue.
"Perhaps young Achayus, she protests because she fears losing one more thing precious to her." He said, taking long strides, he was soon standing a step away from the boy.
The boy squared his shoulders and locked his jaw.
"And who would you be to assume my mothers mind?"
Odysseus laughed.
"Oh, you are identical to your father. I am King Odysseus of Ithaca. I know your mother and I knew your father. I must say, you look exactly like him, although the hair is most definitely your mothers."
Philamean bowed low in shock. He returned up with wide eyes.
"As in THE King Odysseus? The king who survived Poseidon's wrath? The one who battled the Cyclops, and made it out of Circe alive? Truly, you are joking."
Odysseus drew his sword and held it up for the boy to see.
"Truly, I am not. This sword has been passed down through the ages. It upholds all that is Ithaca. Much like the sword that was once the image of Troy, this sword is the image of my people. Achayus, might we talk for a moment?"
Philameans' eyes still wide, bowed low again.
"It has been a great honor King Odysseus." He said before turning to his friend.
"I'll see you at the pits. You know that Pylar will be there. She will be waiting to see you conquer the ring again. I can be sure of that." Philamean bowed once more and strode off proudly.
"You knew my father? Tell me about him. Who was he? My mother refuses." Achayus' gaze again returned to the man before him. The glint of smile in his eyes was replaced by a sudden curiosity.
"Aye, I did." Odysseus assured. "But, lets talk out of public ear." He tipped his head to the side where two old woman were pretending to be conversing, but in all reality were eavesdropping.
"Fine. You lead the way." Achayus said uncertainly. This man knew Achilles? Knew his father? His own mother refused to speak of him. In fact, the only reason that he himself knew who his father was, was because of gossiping seamstresses. He had been wooden sword fighting in the street and one of them had stopped him with a curious stare.
"Aye sister. He is the son of Achilles. I knew it was him when I saw him." She'd said returning to her table of garments.
When he'd returned home, he asked his mother about this Achilles. But proved to be no help. She merely gasped at the mention of his name and her face crumpled into a pained expression. She clutched her heart and wiped the tears from her eyes before begging him to never mention that name again.
Now, following the King of Ithaca, Achayus felt a stab of guilt. This man, Achilles, must have been someone great to his mother for her to be in such pain at the mere mention of his name.
"How did you know my father?" Achayus asked stopping short. Odysseus turned.
"I fought many a war with the great Achilles. He was a gifted swordsman and known throughout Greece as the best fighter in the world. Sit boy and we will talk."
And so they sat outside the market, on carved log bench. Achayus asked and Odysseus felt it his place to answer.
()()()()()()()()()()()()
Briseis sighed in exasperation. Her search had finally led her to the beach. It was beginning to show dusk and she still had not located her son.
"Achayus Titus of Phenelaos! Where in the gods names are you?" she called out. Giving up, she trudged down the beach thinking of all the places she searched and where her son might have gone. The sand slid between her toes as she approached the former temple of Apollo. As she rounded the stairs, she was startled to be greeted with the shape of her son.
He sat on the steps hunched over. She stepped towards him to comfort him, but he drew away sharply. He looked up at her and she saw his blue eyes were rimmed with red.
"Achayus," she began.
"Why did you not tell me?" he asked, his eyes held a critical glare. "How could you NOT tell me?" he added angrily. "I am your son! I deserve to know who my father was! It wasn't your right to keep it from me! For Zeus sake! I am nearly a man!" he rambled.
Briseis looked as if she'd been slapped.
"Who told you?" she said quietly.
"A friend of fathers, a good man named Odysseus. He told me of the Trojan War, of Paris and Hector and Helen. He told how my father loved you. How can love be a just enough cause to keep the truth from me?" he stood up and wrung his eyes like a child. "How mother?"
Briseis felt tears in her eyes and reached out to her son.
"Did Odysseus tell you about how your mother was banished for having you? Did he tell you of how your mothers' family refused to acknowledge her only child? How her love was forbidden, while her cousin's love caused a war? Did he tell you how your father died at the hands of someone your mother loved very much? I don't think so." She spat.
Achayus looked into his mothers teary eyes and felt instantly guilty. His mother had a way of doing that, the way her eyes just filled with water, it looked like if she were to blink, she'd fill the ocean. He looked down.
"No." he said quietly.
"I thought as much." Briseis stepped towards her son and took his hands into hers. "Come Achayus, I will fill in the blanks that our good friend Odysseus has left empty."
A woman walked into the quiet marketplace of Phenelaos that the city of Troy had become. Sea merchants and seafaring ships took refuge on the beaches now instead of the majestic people of Troy. She looked around, hoping to catch a glint of her son's hair, dark like her own. Instead, she saw only the daily vendors and booths.
"Achayus!" she called out over the hubbub. She gathered her pale green toga and lifted its skirts so she could maneuver the walkways without getting snagged.
A hand on her shoulder made her tense. She turned quickly. Suddenly she was staring into the face of a man that looked vaguely memorable.
"Briseis?" he asked cautiously.
On her guard, she nodded slowly.
"I am, and you would be?"
"Odysseus, King Odysseus. I was a friend to Achilles."
At the mention of her lovers' name, she tensed. The usual feeling of emptiness and aloneness filled her heart and she felt a chill to the bone. In light of her sudden nausea, she remembered her manners and bowed, her dark curls falling over one shoulder and her necklace of amulets fell out of her toga.
"To what pleasure do I owe the audience of the King of Ithaca?" she asked innocently. He seemed to be genuine and sincere enough, but so did others.
"I am on a journey home. I am traveling the seas with my wife and son. Since I saw you last, I have seen Circe, met Poseidon and ventured further than I ever thought possible. Might I add that you have never looked more beautiful? My men and I have stopped here in Phenelaos to collect some supplies. How are you doing?" Odysseus said, his eyes showed true concern. "I have heard from the gossiping seamstresses that you are mother to the only son of Achilles."
"Please do not say his name." Briseis said weakly. "The rumors are true. Achayus is my son. I am searching for him now, I must go. Safe travels and may the gods be with you and your wife and son." She bowed low and turned quickly, looking left and right for her missing son.
"Briseis," Odysseus called after her. She stopped and turned to look at him. "He loved you. Very much, I can attest to that. By the gods will or not, he would have taken you with him. He would have left his search of glory to be at your side. Know this."
"I thank you King of Ithaca. Those words are kinder than most I hear these days. Now, I must find my son. It is very important. Cosseted travels."
As she walked away, she felt sick to her stomach, and when she was sure that the king of Ithaca was not watching, she threw up in an empty barrel. Curse you Achilles. She thought. For the power you have over me still from death is greater than I would have ever thought. Now, tell me o' great warrior, where is your son?
Meanwhile, Odysseus turned and stood for a moment and took in what Troy had become. A once majestic and holy city, reduced to a plain marketplace. His thoughts returned again to Briseis. 'Please, do not say his name.' She had asked. Was it simply the light, or had she gone pale. She wore a strange piece of jewelry, a leather rawhide strip with several amulets strung upon it. It looked vaguely similar to the once Achilles was buried with. But how could she have gotten it? He could swear he saw a haunted sorrowful look danced across her face. 'Tis a shame. He thought. That two so in love cannot be together.
Turning to look for his men and rally them together, he caught a glimpse of a tall man. Dark hair hung to his shoulders, which were wide and muscular. He wondered why this man had caught his eye. The man turned his face in Odysseus' direction and the sheer identicalness struck him dumb for a moment. The man looked like the spitting image of Achilles. The only difference, was the hair.
"Achayus! There you are! I have been searching high and low Phenelaos for you. The duels will begin this afternoon, are you coming?" a lean boy smiled widely embracing the man, well boy. Achayus, was that not the name of the child Briseis was searching for? Could this be him?
"Aye Philamean. I will be. I am registered to fight, but do not tell my mother. She would have my hide. I do not understand why she detests my competing in the challenges." He said patting the other boy, Philamean, on the shoulder.
Odysseus took this as his cue.
"Perhaps young Achayus, she protests because she fears losing one more thing precious to her." He said, taking long strides, he was soon standing a step away from the boy.
The boy squared his shoulders and locked his jaw.
"And who would you be to assume my mothers mind?"
Odysseus laughed.
"Oh, you are identical to your father. I am King Odysseus of Ithaca. I know your mother and I knew your father. I must say, you look exactly like him, although the hair is most definitely your mothers."
Philamean bowed low in shock. He returned up with wide eyes.
"As in THE King Odysseus? The king who survived Poseidon's wrath? The one who battled the Cyclops, and made it out of Circe alive? Truly, you are joking."
Odysseus drew his sword and held it up for the boy to see.
"Truly, I am not. This sword has been passed down through the ages. It upholds all that is Ithaca. Much like the sword that was once the image of Troy, this sword is the image of my people. Achayus, might we talk for a moment?"
Philameans' eyes still wide, bowed low again.
"It has been a great honor King Odysseus." He said before turning to his friend.
"I'll see you at the pits. You know that Pylar will be there. She will be waiting to see you conquer the ring again. I can be sure of that." Philamean bowed once more and strode off proudly.
"You knew my father? Tell me about him. Who was he? My mother refuses." Achayus' gaze again returned to the man before him. The glint of smile in his eyes was replaced by a sudden curiosity.
"Aye, I did." Odysseus assured. "But, lets talk out of public ear." He tipped his head to the side where two old woman were pretending to be conversing, but in all reality were eavesdropping.
"Fine. You lead the way." Achayus said uncertainly. This man knew Achilles? Knew his father? His own mother refused to speak of him. In fact, the only reason that he himself knew who his father was, was because of gossiping seamstresses. He had been wooden sword fighting in the street and one of them had stopped him with a curious stare.
"Aye sister. He is the son of Achilles. I knew it was him when I saw him." She'd said returning to her table of garments.
When he'd returned home, he asked his mother about this Achilles. But proved to be no help. She merely gasped at the mention of his name and her face crumpled into a pained expression. She clutched her heart and wiped the tears from her eyes before begging him to never mention that name again.
Now, following the King of Ithaca, Achayus felt a stab of guilt. This man, Achilles, must have been someone great to his mother for her to be in such pain at the mere mention of his name.
"How did you know my father?" Achayus asked stopping short. Odysseus turned.
"I fought many a war with the great Achilles. He was a gifted swordsman and known throughout Greece as the best fighter in the world. Sit boy and we will talk."
And so they sat outside the market, on carved log bench. Achayus asked and Odysseus felt it his place to answer.
()()()()()()()()()()()()
Briseis sighed in exasperation. Her search had finally led her to the beach. It was beginning to show dusk and she still had not located her son.
"Achayus Titus of Phenelaos! Where in the gods names are you?" she called out. Giving up, she trudged down the beach thinking of all the places she searched and where her son might have gone. The sand slid between her toes as she approached the former temple of Apollo. As she rounded the stairs, she was startled to be greeted with the shape of her son.
He sat on the steps hunched over. She stepped towards him to comfort him, but he drew away sharply. He looked up at her and she saw his blue eyes were rimmed with red.
"Achayus," she began.
"Why did you not tell me?" he asked, his eyes held a critical glare. "How could you NOT tell me?" he added angrily. "I am your son! I deserve to know who my father was! It wasn't your right to keep it from me! For Zeus sake! I am nearly a man!" he rambled.
Briseis looked as if she'd been slapped.
"Who told you?" she said quietly.
"A friend of fathers, a good man named Odysseus. He told me of the Trojan War, of Paris and Hector and Helen. He told how my father loved you. How can love be a just enough cause to keep the truth from me?" he stood up and wrung his eyes like a child. "How mother?"
Briseis felt tears in her eyes and reached out to her son.
"Did Odysseus tell you about how your mother was banished for having you? Did he tell you of how your mothers' family refused to acknowledge her only child? How her love was forbidden, while her cousin's love caused a war? Did he tell you how your father died at the hands of someone your mother loved very much? I don't think so." She spat.
Achayus looked into his mothers teary eyes and felt instantly guilty. His mother had a way of doing that, the way her eyes just filled with water, it looked like if she were to blink, she'd fill the ocean. He looked down.
"No." he said quietly.
"I thought as much." Briseis stepped towards her son and took his hands into hers. "Come Achayus, I will fill in the blanks that our good friend Odysseus has left empty."