After Troy
Chapter 4 – Old Acquaintance
Paris rose early. He still mourned the loss of his love, Helen, though some how he new she was not dead. He remembered Aphrodite's promise to gift him with the most beautiful woman in Achaea, should he give her the apple to mark her as the fairest goddess. He hoped that, somewhere, Aphrodite was looking out for them both.
"So now we've both lost the one we love." Said Briseis, approaching Paris from behind. Paris had only discovered the affair between Briseis and Achilles after they had left the city, and in hindsight he regretted his actions, for her sake.
"Briseis, I've been meaning to say..." He was interrupted.
"No, Paris, he killed your brother, you had to avenge him." Briseis paused, stepping up beside her cousin to watch the sun rise. "Achilles was not really of this world, anyway. He belonged with the gods. You delivered him there, and I'm sure he would be grateful."
Paris could say nothing. He had killed Achilles on impulse. Briseis was correct; it was the thought of Hector that had led him to it. Until the day of Hectors death he had admired Achilles for his prowess in battle. It had been said he was unbeatable, immortal even. If the old myths were anything to go by then Paris was lucky to have hit the heel.
It still surprised him that he, Paris, the soul most inexperienced fighter in the Trojan army had been the one to defeat the warrior of Greece. Though it still stood that, in battle, Achilles had remained undefeated.
"I suppose we'll have to find some money soon." He said at last, feeling it high time for a conversation change.
"Do you have anything of value? I gave up personal possession when I became a priestess." Briseis told Paris. He reached into his bag, which lay at his feet.
"Just what Helen left with Andromache, for me." He emptied the small bag into his hand. Tears threatened to enter his eyes as he viewed the contents. Helen's favourite earrings and the beautiful gold necklace were all that he now had to remember her by. The necklace he had given her, she had returned to him in parting. The sun flashed off them beautifully, reminding him of her golden hair and sapphire-blue eyes.
Briseis closed his hand, encasing the treasures. "You're not to sell those unless you are on the brink of starvation, and even then I want you to consider every alternative." She told him. She had nothing to remember Achilles by and she knew how much it meant. Paris smiled and embraced her, still feeling desperately guilty about what he had done to her.
When they parted he breathed deeply, the mid-morning sun already warming his face.
"Alright," Andromache appeared from out of the tent she had some how procured the previous evening for the women. "It's time we got going." She roused those who had managed to sleep through the rising morning heat. Together they all fed and watered as best they could and packed everything again. The travel continued.
At some point in their journey, when the sun was high in the sky, they paused for another break. Food was brought out and passed about, though supplies were now running low. During this pause, discussions were had, and plans formulated. Andromache proved herself as a leader, and all present wondered what life would have been like if this powerful woman had taken charge of Troy, and with Hector to boot.
"Apollo is not kind today." Said Aeneas, of the sun. He was the boy to whom Paris had gifted the sword of Troy. He was a bright young man, a few years Paris' junior, and far better skill with a blade than Paris would ever be, having some how trained with the best. Yet it seemed to Paris that the boy held a secret. His father, Anchises, whom Aeneas cared for was a man who Paris had seen many times in the Trojan Palace. Hector had known Anchises, as had Priam. But Paris, only having recently returned to the family, had not known him. Both Anchises and Aeneas seemed to know who Paris was, though, much better than the average man of Troy.
The two young men, Paris and Aeneas, being as sprightly and enthusiastic as each other had joined forces and each succeeded in keeping the other's mind off loss and trouble. The two were, at that moment, conversing regarding fighting techniques.
"Well, the gods know I'm terrible with a sword." Paris admitted to Aeneas. "The bow is my real specialty." He boasted.
"It shows. I mean, the down side, the sword side, was Aeneas." He paused, still a little uncertain about conversing in such a manner with the prince. Though they were related, fathers having been second cousins and all, Paris was yet to learn this. But Paris laughed, no longer feeling princely and pressured. He had relaxed and was in his element.
"Yes, I know. Absolutely terrible, that." He laughed again. "If it hadn't been for Hector..." at this moment he paused. Aeneas decided to have input and ease the prince's pain.
"But your archery skills are renowned." He told Paris, a smile and sense of admiration in his voice.
"Thank you." Paris returned, soon loosing his gloom. He had always responded well to compliments.
"Alright, boys, that's enough chatting. We have to keep moving. We need to reach town before we run out of food, and we've only got a little left." Andromache gave Paris a friendly nudge with her foot and smiled. There was something firm in her voice that drove them all, something hopeful, and a command over all. How she kept going with such strength was beyond Paris' comprehension.
"Excuse me." An approaching man called out. The party of about twenty turned to face the speaker. Only one amongst them had really heard the voice before, though they had all heard it shouting a name at the impenetrable Trojan, eager for revenge. None remembered.
"Excuse me," he repeated, "are you traveling from Troy?" he asked. The sun obscured his image and he was not yet close enough to be seen.
"Yes brother, do you wish to travel with us?" It was Andromache who replied. She seemed incautious, while Briseis had frozen and Paris fingered his bow.
"That would be greatly appreciated." The man said, almost in view. "You see, I've come from there myself, recently."
At last he was seen by all, though with some disbelief. All 6-foot- something of him could be seen, blond hair, blue robes and muscles included. Silence held them all for a few moments while the man, with no fear, as was his wont, stood awaiting a reply. Only Briseis fared say a word.
"Achilles?"
A/N: Ahhh... another chapter. : ). I actually have chapter 5 written but.. hehehehe, I think I'll make you wait! Plus I need to proof-read, and all that boring mambo jumbo. Weird. And for all you Slash kids, official news, it will begin in chapter 6! You heard it here first (not that you could hear it anywhere else.) And a big hello to Lucy and her cousins! Hi Guys! I hope you're having fun! And thanks again for all the reviews from you other kids. By the by, if you have a fic, put it in a review and I'll r&r. So personal notes: Yana 5, he sure is going to meet paris! Meet, and greet, and eat... hehehehe. Carribeangoddess, nice to hear from you again! I'm buying the Iliad this weekend! Haha, the secrets shall be mine! And generally, did anyone else know that Patroclus was actually Achilles foster- brother and some historians reckon they were lovers too! Juicy, that'll have to be involved. Bradleigh, thanks for respecting my intro chapters. My HP fic just didn't go anywhere because I jumped in too quickly and failed miserably! Max, Hi Max! thanks, and I should hope it is interesting. Tell me if it gets boring because I'd have to fix that, hehehehe. (I'm so joyous tonight, laughing everywhere!) Lady Lenna: do you agree that Achilles should be cocky? He sort of came across that way in the movie so I figured... And the last person to have reviewed when I checked: x-shadowcat, I'll try not to keep you all waiting too long. I'm aiming for 1-2 days per chapter, they're short so it could work. Wow, would you look at the length of this thing! It rivals the story itself! Well, have fun guys, and again, any ideas, put 'em in a fic or email me (cerasi01hotmail.com) by guys! CW
Paris rose early. He still mourned the loss of his love, Helen, though some how he new she was not dead. He remembered Aphrodite's promise to gift him with the most beautiful woman in Achaea, should he give her the apple to mark her as the fairest goddess. He hoped that, somewhere, Aphrodite was looking out for them both.
"So now we've both lost the one we love." Said Briseis, approaching Paris from behind. Paris had only discovered the affair between Briseis and Achilles after they had left the city, and in hindsight he regretted his actions, for her sake.
"Briseis, I've been meaning to say..." He was interrupted.
"No, Paris, he killed your brother, you had to avenge him." Briseis paused, stepping up beside her cousin to watch the sun rise. "Achilles was not really of this world, anyway. He belonged with the gods. You delivered him there, and I'm sure he would be grateful."
Paris could say nothing. He had killed Achilles on impulse. Briseis was correct; it was the thought of Hector that had led him to it. Until the day of Hectors death he had admired Achilles for his prowess in battle. It had been said he was unbeatable, immortal even. If the old myths were anything to go by then Paris was lucky to have hit the heel.
It still surprised him that he, Paris, the soul most inexperienced fighter in the Trojan army had been the one to defeat the warrior of Greece. Though it still stood that, in battle, Achilles had remained undefeated.
"I suppose we'll have to find some money soon." He said at last, feeling it high time for a conversation change.
"Do you have anything of value? I gave up personal possession when I became a priestess." Briseis told Paris. He reached into his bag, which lay at his feet.
"Just what Helen left with Andromache, for me." He emptied the small bag into his hand. Tears threatened to enter his eyes as he viewed the contents. Helen's favourite earrings and the beautiful gold necklace were all that he now had to remember her by. The necklace he had given her, she had returned to him in parting. The sun flashed off them beautifully, reminding him of her golden hair and sapphire-blue eyes.
Briseis closed his hand, encasing the treasures. "You're not to sell those unless you are on the brink of starvation, and even then I want you to consider every alternative." She told him. She had nothing to remember Achilles by and she knew how much it meant. Paris smiled and embraced her, still feeling desperately guilty about what he had done to her.
When they parted he breathed deeply, the mid-morning sun already warming his face.
"Alright," Andromache appeared from out of the tent she had some how procured the previous evening for the women. "It's time we got going." She roused those who had managed to sleep through the rising morning heat. Together they all fed and watered as best they could and packed everything again. The travel continued.
At some point in their journey, when the sun was high in the sky, they paused for another break. Food was brought out and passed about, though supplies were now running low. During this pause, discussions were had, and plans formulated. Andromache proved herself as a leader, and all present wondered what life would have been like if this powerful woman had taken charge of Troy, and with Hector to boot.
"Apollo is not kind today." Said Aeneas, of the sun. He was the boy to whom Paris had gifted the sword of Troy. He was a bright young man, a few years Paris' junior, and far better skill with a blade than Paris would ever be, having some how trained with the best. Yet it seemed to Paris that the boy held a secret. His father, Anchises, whom Aeneas cared for was a man who Paris had seen many times in the Trojan Palace. Hector had known Anchises, as had Priam. But Paris, only having recently returned to the family, had not known him. Both Anchises and Aeneas seemed to know who Paris was, though, much better than the average man of Troy.
The two young men, Paris and Aeneas, being as sprightly and enthusiastic as each other had joined forces and each succeeded in keeping the other's mind off loss and trouble. The two were, at that moment, conversing regarding fighting techniques.
"Well, the gods know I'm terrible with a sword." Paris admitted to Aeneas. "The bow is my real specialty." He boasted.
"It shows. I mean, the down side, the sword side, was Aeneas." He paused, still a little uncertain about conversing in such a manner with the prince. Though they were related, fathers having been second cousins and all, Paris was yet to learn this. But Paris laughed, no longer feeling princely and pressured. He had relaxed and was in his element.
"Yes, I know. Absolutely terrible, that." He laughed again. "If it hadn't been for Hector..." at this moment he paused. Aeneas decided to have input and ease the prince's pain.
"But your archery skills are renowned." He told Paris, a smile and sense of admiration in his voice.
"Thank you." Paris returned, soon loosing his gloom. He had always responded well to compliments.
"Alright, boys, that's enough chatting. We have to keep moving. We need to reach town before we run out of food, and we've only got a little left." Andromache gave Paris a friendly nudge with her foot and smiled. There was something firm in her voice that drove them all, something hopeful, and a command over all. How she kept going with such strength was beyond Paris' comprehension.
"Excuse me." An approaching man called out. The party of about twenty turned to face the speaker. Only one amongst them had really heard the voice before, though they had all heard it shouting a name at the impenetrable Trojan, eager for revenge. None remembered.
"Excuse me," he repeated, "are you traveling from Troy?" he asked. The sun obscured his image and he was not yet close enough to be seen.
"Yes brother, do you wish to travel with us?" It was Andromache who replied. She seemed incautious, while Briseis had frozen and Paris fingered his bow.
"That would be greatly appreciated." The man said, almost in view. "You see, I've come from there myself, recently."
At last he was seen by all, though with some disbelief. All 6-foot- something of him could be seen, blond hair, blue robes and muscles included. Silence held them all for a few moments while the man, with no fear, as was his wont, stood awaiting a reply. Only Briseis fared say a word.
"Achilles?"
A/N: Ahhh... another chapter. : ). I actually have chapter 5 written but.. hehehehe, I think I'll make you wait! Plus I need to proof-read, and all that boring mambo jumbo. Weird. And for all you Slash kids, official news, it will begin in chapter 6! You heard it here first (not that you could hear it anywhere else.) And a big hello to Lucy and her cousins! Hi Guys! I hope you're having fun! And thanks again for all the reviews from you other kids. By the by, if you have a fic, put it in a review and I'll r&r. So personal notes: Yana 5, he sure is going to meet paris! Meet, and greet, and eat... hehehehe. Carribeangoddess, nice to hear from you again! I'm buying the Iliad this weekend! Haha, the secrets shall be mine! And generally, did anyone else know that Patroclus was actually Achilles foster- brother and some historians reckon they were lovers too! Juicy, that'll have to be involved. Bradleigh, thanks for respecting my intro chapters. My HP fic just didn't go anywhere because I jumped in too quickly and failed miserably! Max, Hi Max! thanks, and I should hope it is interesting. Tell me if it gets boring because I'd have to fix that, hehehehe. (I'm so joyous tonight, laughing everywhere!) Lady Lenna: do you agree that Achilles should be cocky? He sort of came across that way in the movie so I figured... And the last person to have reviewed when I checked: x-shadowcat, I'll try not to keep you all waiting too long. I'm aiming for 1-2 days per chapter, they're short so it could work. Wow, would you look at the length of this thing! It rivals the story itself! Well, have fun guys, and again, any ideas, put 'em in a fic or email me (cerasi01hotmail.com) by guys! CW