She told her. Andromache knew now. But it was as Briseis predicted, she had taken the news remarkably well. Deep down, she supposed, she had always known that the older woman would support her and be happy for her, but lately she'd been so stressed and confused that it was hard to be certain about anything.

The people cheered of course, they were overjoyed at the thought of the birth of their new prince. The work was going along fine, and everyone's moods were reasonably good, even as the temperature dipped and the occasional storm blew through the valley. They were truly approaching winter. But no matter, some of the cabins were already up, and they had been careful to reserve sacks and baskets of food. They would get through the season.

Helen was laundering by the edge of the water. The sky was clear that day, clear and peaceful. Carefully, she shook out a large shirt, wrung it so the water dripped out, and spread it on the rocks to dry. She turned around and gathered another armload of clothes, plunging it into the icy cold water, sending a fine mist of water droplets up, spraying onto her face. She breathed deeply. She rather liked this life, the uncertainness, the openness, and the fact that she had to work, and work together along with the others. It gave her a sense of unity and she felt she belonged. Back at Sparta, she did nothing all day, but walked in the gardens, gazing at the birds, and wishing, wishing that she had wings, and the freedom to fly away. She wasn't one of them, she wasn't a Spartan. Then she met Paris, and by some miraculous reason, she came to Troy. It was not much better in those city walls either. It might have been, if the war hadn't started so soon, the killing, the fighting. And she had to bear the curious eyes of the Trojans, the hateful eyes, the gossip. It was all right, she hadn't minded that, as long as she was with Paris. Well, all that was past now.

Here no one minded her, she was treated as a princess even. She was able to get up everyday without that crushing guilt, and contribute to the people. She felt like she was pulling her weight, instead of just sitting around while others did the work for her. It gave her a welcoming feeling of accomplishment. Now that she was with child, pregnant with the future prince, she was proud. Proud, honored and grateful for the chance to become a mother, a mother to Paris' child. Their child.

Helen lowered the washing, and watched the gentle rippling of the water for a moment. It was just so… Everything was at peace here. How could they not be? And she had never seen such a quiet place quiet in a sense, of also not. Every branch, every rock, the very air seemed alive. That made her thankful to be among the living as well.

Briseis was used to the rough work now. She even helped the men split wood. Now her task was to bundle the boards and help haul them up so they could finish roofing their cabins. Some of the people, Helen, Andromache, and Astyanax had moved into one of the newly built cabins. They urged her to do so as well, but she refused. One, she enjoyed the openness her tent offers, and two, it was easier to slip out of her tent unnoticed at night. She was still meeting Achilles that way, as neither of them had any good ideas about what to do next. Not that she minded, too much, she was content just to see him every day. But soon she would be forced to live in a cabin with the other women, when the weather roughens up. That would make it a great deal more difficult for her to pursue her midnight ventures. Besides, where would Achilles go when the cold settles in? Already one morning some days ago, she woke up to a most chilling wind, and when she stepped outside, she saw frost, lightly covering the grass, which was growing browner everyday. And sometimes it was so cold that they could do nothing but cuddle together out of the wind and talk. She didn't mind that either, but she did wish she was somewhere warmer.

Briseis sighed. They would really have to think of something. And soon.

Achilles paced. He could think of nothing else to do, plus he was starting to get worried. So he paced. The apple trees were now bare, their leaves and fruit fallen long ago. He was walking in such a small circle that it was a wonder that he was not dizzy. Where was she? What if she had gotten caught? What else could be keeping her? A slight rustle. He froze, and his hand immediately went to his side, closing around the dagger.

Then Briseis burst through the scraggly undergrowth. His grip relaxed.

"Where were you?"

Briseis was pleased to hear the concern in his voice, and something else she couldn't place, also bordering frenzy. But she liked it.

"Andromache had to speak to me. She wants me to move in with Helen and her."

"And?" Achilles walked closely with her, deeper into the woods.

"And I refused, again, but I don't think she will listen to me much longer. I don't even want to listen to me sometimes, terrible weather," Briseis said in a low whisper.

Achilles let out a long breath, slowly, but the tension in his body refused to evaporate.

"Nobody saw you?" He asked his usual question.

"It's fine, no one did." Briseis' breath came a little faster as the ground sloped upwards. Achilles stopped suddenly in front of her. She nearly ran into him. He whirled around, grabbed her by the arms, and pressed his mouth to hers, hard. She could feel the fear, the hunger, and the need pouring out of him into that kiss. She angled back her head and sighed as he skimmed his lips over her chin, kissing her neck.

Achilles pulled away, finally, and loosened his grip on her arms. She was still a bit shaken from the crushing embrace and sudden the display of attention. Her breath was quick and shallow, as if she had just climbed the mountain.

Achilles exhaled, and squeezed one of her hands, looking into the darkness.

"What's wrong?" Briseis asked gently, knowing that look on his face.

Achilles said nothing.

Briseis sighed softly and put a slender hand on his deeply tanned arm. She also knew that he didn't want to talk right now, so she didn't push, but instead stood there with him in silence.

"What if I were to go and turn myself in?" He spoke up suddenly.

"You said at the beginning-" Briseis started.

"Yes, but that was a long time ago. I don't want you running around by yourself at this time of the year. And what if someone was to follow you?" His eyes searched for hers in the dark.

"No one did, I'm certain of that."

"What if someone did? I'm not just being paranoid, Briseis."

"I know."

"What if I was to go and ask for her mercy?"

Briseis looked into his eyes, "But you wouldn't be able to stand doing something like that. You wouldn't beg for anything, much less her mercy. I know you."

"That was also a long time ago. It's different now." Achilles closed his eyes, not wanting to see Briseis' eyes.

"Andromache is also a proud woman, and she holds on to things. I know her as well." Briseis smiled slightly, "You are both too stubborn to come to an agreement."

"I will tell her that I love you. I will ask her for your hand."

"That's all very well. But for all we know, she will have you killed the instant she lays her eyes on you," Briseis tried to keep her tone light, "She might even kill you herself."

"But she wouldn't want to hurt you, I've seen how kind she is to you."

"Yes, she is almost like the mother I've never known. Too protective sometimes though, she will think you were hurting me."

Achilles was quiet for a while, chewing over his options.

"Briseis?"

"Yes?"

"Will you come back to Greece with me?" He watched her now, intently.

"Achilles-" Her eyes were pleading.

"Will you?" His gaze intensified. She had to look away.

"Achilles, this is my country. This is what I've know all my life. Besides, I don't know if I will be welcomed," she mumbled quietly.

"But you will be with me. Come with me to Larissa. We will slip back, no one will know."

Now it was Briseis' turn to be silent.

"I know Odysseus, he will have ships and men back to claim Troy. They will rebuild the city walls. It will no longer be Troy, but we can find help there."

"How do you know?"

"I'm Achilles, aren't I?" He smiled his first smile that night, "And I'm a Greek."

"And I'm a Trojan. I can't just abandon my friends, my family, my people. I can't just leave the life I've always known."

Achilles dropped his eyes to the ground. "You won't come, will you?"

"No, yes, no, but-"

"It's all right. I can't force you to do something you won't."

"I will think about it, Achilles." Briseis stepped close and put her hand on his cheek, hoping to comfort him.

He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, she was still stroking his cheek. He reached up and closed his hand around hers.

"All right." He smiled faintly, turned, and walked away.

Briseis stood there in the shadows, long after he was gone, thinking. It was an enormous decision. Finally she straightened and headed back to camp. She didn't even realize she was shivering. The breeze sent goose bumps along her flesh. She pulled her cloak tighter around her.

Later, when she was back in her own tent, snuggled under the covers, she tried to sleep. But when she closed her eyes, all she could see was the kind expression on his face when he left. There was something else there too, something she recognized.

It was longing.