A warrior's heart is fierce and brave, yet so cold and shielded. Her heart was open and warm, noble in its faith. Formidable, and imposing his stature was. She was reminded of the gods. However she was delicate and soft, and he thought he say sands and home in her. Yet like puzzle pieces they fit, even when at first she refused him, and he thought her just another prize of war.
Then she was taken away, without warning and notice. The stonewall around his heart crumbled, he lacked the immortal strength he once possessed to go on without knowing she would be there in his bed when the battle was done. Achingly he sat idly by as his men were slaughtered, but he was of no use without her there to wash his feet, wash away the dust and the bloodshed.
At night when he held her, he felt at peace, at home. He at first loved her like a master loves a slave, soon she became like a child, and then she became apart of him and he could not remember when he did not love her. She was soft against his calloused hands. "Nothing this fragile should be given to such a hardened man," he thought late at night, for her feared that he would break her, and then he would be lost.
She believed him a tyrant at first, evil and wicked, profiting from a war that was not his to fight. Then he saved her from a worse fate. Soon he began to almost worship her like a goddess. Beneath his penetrating gaze she felt unfit of the acclamations that hid beneath those stormy depths, for he never voiced them from his lips.
Oh those lips, how she could kiss them all the days of her life. They were strong and defiant, yet with her gentle and soft. His kisses were poetry, and she listened with enthusiasm. Troy was once her home, but now she wondered if it had ever been.
Late at night they would hold onto each other, even when their sweat began to cool against their skin. No words would be said, for no words were needed. He had readily worshipped at her altar, and she had clung to the god who received her undying devotion.
When he thought she was slumbering, he pressed his lips to her forehead, brushing away the messy locks that hid her seraphim face. His speech was no louder than the quiet wind that came from the sea. "My heart is yours Brisies, though Hades may separate us soon, I will be with you."
Gazing one last time at her noble features, he closed his eyes had believed he could finally sleep. It may have been a dream for him, but he swore it was real when in the fog that is slumber he felt lips upon his own and a gentle voice speaking "And mine yours."