Author's Notes: I owe HUGE thanks to KD Skywalker and GeminiQueen for getting me off my lazy butt and to the keyboard. It was actually one of my New Year's Resolutions to finish thischapter and I was half-thinking that resolution would be one of those "wishful thinking" ones. Thanks for the encouragement!
To all reviewers...as always, thank you so much for taking the time. I know it's been quite awhile, but the reviews never fail to make my day.
CHAPTER III
It most certainly had to be a blessing from the gods. The prince of Troy could hardly suppress the grin that sprang to his cracked lips. All his life he had dutifully honored the gods and now he was finally receiving some gift from them. Surely one of them had woken Briseis and led her mind to believe Achilles had been trying to kill him, surely one of them was continuing to block her mind to Achilles's claims to innocence.
Because although he may be innocent for this crime, he is guilty a thousand times over for others, Paris thought gleefully, all his hurts forgotten. Zeus, Hera, Athena, Apollo, Aphrodite, whoever has done it, thank you. Achilles was looking more wounded than any physical blow could cause. His brilliant blue eyes held a duller flash to them and he seemed at quite a loss for words. At his side, his arms moved restlessly, so much raw and tense power, coiled tightly like a spring, immense power, but for a time, helpless. Paris was strongly reminded of a caged lion.
A tumultuous caged lion.
Achilles spoke, his tone lacking some of his normal confidence. "Briseis, please." Once more he moved toward her, but she shoved his hands away. Acting reflexively, Achilles seized her by the elbow and roughly twisted her around.
She slapped him, hard, and then, to the astonishment of both men, collapsed into his arms and sobbed desperately against his shoulder. All the turbulent emotions of the past few weeks were finally beginning to take their heavy toll.
"Briseis," Achilles said, with a gentleness Paris wouldn't have believed possible of the man. "I was not trying to kill your cousin. He gave me the opportunity, countless times, but I did not do it. What can I say to make you believe me?"
Her hands curled into fists and she pulled away from him, hot tears running freely down her face. Paris saw by the desire in her face that she wanted to believe him. She wanted terribly to believe the man she had lost her heart to was a good man, was something more than an uncontrollable killing machine.
"Think of what you know of me. A few nights ago in Agamemnon's tent, you stayed my hand from those who meant less than your cousin Paris," said Achilles. However despite his firm tone, Paris noted how the man, the fiercest of all Greeks, winced at Briseis's sobs. How was it she had so much control over him? It appeared that Achilles had a weakness equal to, or perhaps greater than his heel.
"Achilles," she whispered, heartbreakingly. She graced him with a sad look, one filled with great longing, but turned her head and looked at Paris. "Is what he says true, cousin?"
Paris started. He looked briefly at Achilles, at his pained expression, and then at his beloved cousin. Here was a new chance. A chance to destroy Achilles in a manner that did not involve swords, but a chance that was every bit as deadly.
Hector's words flew through his mind.
Take every chance you get, little brother. Use any weapon the gods give you.
He drew in a breath and looked away from Achilles' shockingly blue eyes. "No," he said flatly. "It is not."
For a moment, Paris was certain his death day had come. Immediately following the shocked silence after his words, Achilles tensed in anger, his rage rolling off him in waves. Shaken, Paris instinctively threw a hand before his face, expecting a blow.
None came.
"Your brother was a better man," Achilles said dangerously, his tone pitched quite low. He looked around the shelter, seeing only antagonistic faces. With a dark glower directed at no one in particular, he stormed out of the shelter.
Paris drew in a shaky breath and summoned a wan smile. "Well that he's gone now, right, cousin?"
She looked dully at him, her eyes swollen from tears. "No." The word came out broken.
"Gods!" Paris said, astonished at the pain emanating from her eyes. "You cannot tell me you are grieving for the man. Have you forgotten who he is? He KILLED Hector! My brother! Your cousin!"
"I know who he was. I do not think you know who he is."
He blinked at her. "You believe him…over me?" he said dumbly. "He attacked me first! It was his fault!"
"You are my cousin," Briseis murmured, sounding strangely detached. "I take the word of my kin."
Furiously, Paris shook his head. "I don't believe this," he said defensively. "You, not I, accused him. You believed he had attacked me, and then you ASKED me whether or not it were true."
"Paris, please!" she said. "I am not doubting your word. It's merely that – " she sighed.
"What?" Paris demanded.
"How I wish it were not true," Briseis said softly.
Paris lapsed into a guilty silence.
Briseis too, was silent for a time. However as her tears dried, she stared off into the distance and said quietly, "Uncle Priam wanted to know what I saw in him, too. He was no fool. The moment he lay eyes on the two of us together, he knew."
Paris blinked back a sudden rush of emotion at the thought of his father. Troy had never had a better king.
"He asked me, as we rode back to Troy. Why had I given up everything for this man, of all men? There were thousands of men in Troy who wanted me for their wife, but I chose the virgin route. Apollo was worthier than any of the suitors, but the moment I saw Achilles, I knew I had seen a god's equal." She shuddered. "Such blasphemy. May Apollo forgive me," she whispered.
Subdued, Paris did not interrupt. He understood the complexity and power of love as well. Hadn't his own heart been given to Helen, against all reason?
"Achilles had killed hundreds of our countrymen, Uncle Priam explained to me. How could I love him? How could I love him and love my country, my people? I told him such a thing was beyond my comprehension and I was helpless to do anything about it. I told him that if I could purge this desire, this terrible love for my cousin's murderer, I would do it."
She looked at him, his eyes brimming with fresh tears. "How I miss Priam! He did not reproach me for my awful crime. No, nothing of that sort. He told me – he told me he was happy I had finally found my heart's desire. He told me it didn't happen to many, and I was truly blessed for having received such a gift. A gift!" Her voice cracked. "He would have blessed a marriage between his niece and his son's killer. His was such a merciful heart."
Paris swallowed hard. "Father was always the most compassionate of men. He could have sent Helen home. I could not have stopped him from it. He was king and what was I, but a second son? I know Hector tried to persuade him to do so."
Briseis bowed her head. "Sometimes I think the gods enjoy this," she said. "Why else must we be made to suffer so?"
"Sometimes the gods bless you in the morning and curse you in the afternoon," Paris recited quietly.
She gave a sad smile. "That sounds like Hector."
Paris suddenly longed to take her in his arms, as Hector had always done when she was feeling unhappy. However he was not quite ready to take his brother's role. The pain was still too close. "Come," he said instead. "We're both hungry. I will find my bow and hunt some food."
He rose and suddenly found himself face to face with Achilles. Startled, he took a step backward and nearly stumbled over Briseis. He heard her breath catch, and he could feel his own heart begin to hammer.
Achilles' gaze, strangely bleak, met his own, and dipped as the man inclined his head. "Dinner," he said stiffly, and dropped two fat birds onto the floor. His eyes flickered over the pair of them, but before they could draw a second breath, he had left once more.
"Sometimes he is a good man," Briseis said quietly.
Attempting to ignore the validity of her words, Paris stubbornly set his jaw as he picked up the birds and began to gather firewood.
Take every chance you get, little brother. Use any weapon the gods give you.
Hector! he despaired. Forgive me.
Why was vengeance such a difficult duty? Why was he fast losing heart in it?
Later that night, after he was certain he could hear the gentle breaths of one in deep slumber, Achilles permitted himself to look inside the temporary shelter. It was clear Paris had intended to stand guard, as his sword pommel rested loosely in one hand. However the boy was fast asleep.
Achilles smiled bitterly as he looked down on him, so helpless and young in his sleep. Only in sleep had a shadow left his face. The lines had softened, were smooth and youthful. If I truly wanted to kill you, prince, I could do it now. Easily. There is nothing easier.
But he knew in his heart, even before his mind had registered the fact, that he couldn't. Briseis had changed him, in a way only a woman could shape a man. No longer was he the Achilles who had killed mercilessly and all for furthering his own glory. He was someone changed. Who exactly, he still knew not.
The knots in his muscles loosened as he saw Briseis, curled up against her cousin. She looked even more beautiful in sleep. How was it possible a mortal could be blessed with such vigor, such radiance? Oh how he wanted to go over to her and caress her soft flesh in his arms, to kiss away her tears and hold back all of her fears! He thought of her lips, wonderfully sweet and infinitely tender against his. He thought of her eyes, the understanding eyes that reached through the warrior and knew the man buried beneath. She brought out the best in him.
His lips thinned into a line as he looked at the two sleeping so peacefully, free of the nightmares that haunted his soul. Nightmares of dying men, reaching to him from across the River Styx...Hector, prominent among them.
Closing his eyes, Achilles forced the images from his mind. There would come a time for settling nightmares. For now, since Paris had clearly shown himself incapable of staying alert, he would keep the watch. He would not permit anything to happen to Briseis or her foolish and aggravating cousin while he lived.
Unbidden, he shivered.
If only she knew!
Careful not to wake either, Achilles tucked Briseis's cloak more snugly around her shoulders. It was looking to be a cold night.
tbc
As I said, no cliffie this time! (Right...?)
I won't make any promises as to when the next chapter will be out, as that usually results in my not updating for a few months. -grimace- On the other hand, when I don't make promises, the next chapter tends to pop out in a few days! We'll see what the Overlord Muses say!
One thing is for sure though....I WILL finish this story before 2006. I WILL. BRAIN. I demand it! Nut-uh...no more breaking those pesky resolutions.
And of course...
If you have any comments, constructive criticism, questions, etc, please leave a review! It'd be much appreciated!