Title: Vow of Vengeance
Author: AuroraNights
Summary: AU. Paris doesn't kill Achilles that night in Troy, but as Paris, Achilles, and Briseis flee the city and struggle to carve a new life for themselves, the desire for revenge ever bubbles beneath the surface of their uneasy truce.
Author's Note: So I told myself I would not start another story. And just when I told myself that, this nefarious plot bunny nipped me. It's definitely movie-verse, since I have not read The Iliad, though I have every intention to sometime this summer. Oh yes, and I'm aware the prologue is short. Future chapters will be longer, I promise!

PROLOGUE

He would do it.

He could do it.

Now was the chance for him to avenge his dear brother, who had been so mercilessly killed by the hateful Achilles, whose body had been so dishonorably dragged around all of Troy and back to the camp of the detested Greeks – now was the time! His enemy, the slayer of his beloved brother, had his back to him, his heel perfectly exposed for the shot. Paris had never been a great warrior, but he had been a scholar and he knew well that Achilles's weak point was his heel, the one part that had not been dipped in the River Styx. A well-placed shot there would destroy Achilles. He could avenge his brother! Moving fluidly, Paris nocked an arrow to the string and pulled the bow back, aiming, aiming ever so carefully. He would not fail in this task of restoring his family's honor.

"PARIS! No!"

The sound of his cousin's desperate tone burrowed through all the layers of Paris's anger and he hesitated instinctively at the familiar sound of her voice, his fingers resting on the curve of his bow. The arrow was still nocked to the string, the string taut with tension, but his fingers held onto the arrow, stayed by his cousin's command. "Briseis," he croaked, recognizing for the first time the woman who lay beside Achilles. What was she doing there? What was she doing beside the one who had slain Hector?

Why had she told him 'no'?

He had no time to contemplate the answers, for at the shout of warning, Achilles had whipped his head around and drawn his sword. His eyes now narrowed dangerously as they regarded Paris. "Prince of Troy," said he, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. "I hold no quarrel with you, nor do I desire one, but if you wish to live, then you will depart in peace."

"Achilles," Briseis said, alarmed, but both men ignored her.

At the sound of Achilles's tone, so carelessly speaking of life and death, a jolt of blinding anger rushed through Paris and he drew his bowstring back further. "You killed my brother and my countrymen!"

Achilles's blue eyes swept over him, assessing his angry posture and ready arrow. There was no fear in his gaze, only amusement. "Perhaps I did. What difference is one more?" he said at last, his tone flippant.

"No, Achilles, do not do this," Briseis whispered, resting one hand on his taut arm. "What purpose would it serve to kill him? Troy is already burning."

"My lady, I care not for the destruction of Troy, nor for the lives of her princes," Achilles said, his voice low. "But if he seeks to kill me, then I will kill him."

"He does not seek to kill you."

Achilles looked at her, his expression indulgent, and then back at Paris. The flames threw shadows over the prince's youthful face, but they clearly illuminated the hatred contorting his every feature. "I would beg to differ."

"Achilles, please," Briseis said, closing her eyes painfully. "He has held his arrow. Sheath your sword. You are better than this now! I had thought you changed…" she searched his eyes beseechingly.

Achilles's expression tightened. "I have changed, my lady, or else Paris of Troy would be already dead. But if a man threatens me, I will not stay my hand."

"Enough of this talk, if you are as bold as you say," said Paris, his every word dripping with scorn. "Briseis, this man is a murderer. Look upon his blade! The blood of our countrymen, of our prince and kin, stains it. How dare you side with him? Get back, cousin. Do you not see that he has tainted your thoughts and your heart?"

Briseis turned then to her cousin, seeing the resolute expression upon her face. "Paris, he has not tainted anything," she said softly, and then leapt between the two men, her eyes daring either of them to make an advance. "If blood is to be spilt this night, then it will be mine."

"Briseis!" Paris snapped, but nevertheless he loosened the tension on his bow, so that an accidental twitch of his fingers would not send an arrow through his cousin's heart. Despite all his hatred of Achilles, Briseis was his dear cousin, one of his best friends, and he could not risk injuring her. But why, why in the names of all the Gods at once was she defending Achilles? "Stand aside. This is not your fight."

"This is nobody's fight!" Briseis shouted then. "Look around you, cousin, and see our city burning."

Think I do not see that? The flames are devouring all that Father worked so hard to keep! Bitterness laced Paris's reply. "I see the fires only too clearly, cousin, and I see also a man responsible."

"Then you must see also the one who will die to save him."

Paris flinched violently. "What madness has taken you?"

"A kinder madness than that which consumes you," said Briseis softly.

A myriad of emotions flew over Paris's face – disgust, concern, and anger – before he gave the pair a terse nod and lowered his bow. "If you are so intent upon saving him, then it will be so this night," he said coldly. "But at the next opportune moment, do not think I will hesitate to put an arrow through his heart. Now come with me. I know a safe passage out of the city."

Relief graced Briseis's beautiful features and she turned and smiled weakly at Achilles, her eyes silently pleading with him to sheath his sword. Reluctantly he did so, though as he followed her and Paris, he said darkly, "He speaks brash words, not noble ones. Pleasant sort of fellow."

"He will not harm you this night. My cousin keeps his word."

Achilles looked wearily at her. "Then so will I, my lady, and will not raise a sword against him until he draws first."

Paris overheard and clenched his teeth. And worry not, cursèd one, for that day shall not be long in coming!

tbc

Thoughts? Ideas? Questions? Comments? Criticism? All are welcome! Now go on and press the "Go" button down there...please? P