She stands at a cliff overlooking the natural port of Aulis when Achilles sees her for the first time. Iphigenia, daughter of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon, princess of Mycenae, niece of Helen of Sparta. She does not have a face that could launch a thousand ships. Still, Iphigenia resembles her mother a lot and her father not even a little, and Achilles supposes he is rather thankful for that.
Even as he steps up to stand at her side, Iphigenia does not move her eyes from the absolute calm that ravages the seas just beyond where the last Greek ship is anchored. Not a single wind has blown since Iphigenia's father killed Artemis' sacred deer.
"The winds will return, even without me being sacrificed, you say? It sounds to good to be true, Achilles of Phthia. Especially coming from you. Just two days ago my mother cautioned me you were vainglorious fool, and my fate was to die on the altar today. What changed since then?"
The truth hurts but Achilles is glad for it, nonetheless. At least his wife-to-be has a spine, much like her mother. As far back as he can remember Achilles has only ever feared the possibility of a long and boring life, ever since the first time his mother told him of Prometheus and Chiron. Now while his life with Iphigenia may be long, he has a good hope it will not be boring.
"I had two enlightening conversations and two that were dull and tedious. All together they convinced me there were things more valuable than the glory I sought all my life. I was a vainglorious fool before, but I believe now I am… less so."
There is a ghost of a smile to her lips as Iphigenia finally turns to face him, and her eyes are piercing his soul. Achilles is almost two heads taller than her and probably twice her weight in muscles alone.
"I take it the first and most enlightening conversation was with my mother. She tends to have that effect on people. What did you two talk about?"
"Oh, your mother has a sharp and able tongue, I give her that. But I would not say it was our conversation was more enlightening than the other, simply quite different. Clytemnestra did set me on the path to that let me here to you, that is true. However, I would not have come here without the other three talks either."
"I take it one of the tedious verbal sparring partners was my father?"
There is little Achilles can say to save Agamemnon's honor in that regard.
"He loves you dearly, Iphigenia."
It is better than saying nothing at all, and it is the truth. However, Achilles does not expect the deep-bellied laugh that Iphigenia releases in response, nor does he expect said laugh to cut off abruptly, only to find those piercing eyes boring into him again.
"And I do love him just the same. Which is why I have to ask; will you have to kill him instead of me to abate the gods and end the storm?"
Achilles does not say that Agamemnon offered that solution to him in order to satisfy Artemis' grudge. Nor does he say that him killing Agamemnon to end the storm before Aulis would not have worked.
"No," he answers instead, "I will not kill your father. I negotiated for your dowry and bride price, and he thanked me in tears for saving you."
Lastly, Achilles does not say that Agamemnon is now all but doomed to perish before the walls of Troy.
"That is good. I think I would have come to hate you if you had sacrificed my father in my stead."
"Do you think you could come to love me instead, Iphigenia?"
His words elicit another deep laugh from her, and Achilles finds he likes having that effect on her.
"Love you? I don't even know you, husband mine. True," she says, her eyes roving up and down his form, "you have a body to make a maiden's heart weep and you are my Myrmidon in polished bronze, saving me from certain death. But love takes time."
"We have all the time in the world," Achilles replies. And means it. It frightens him still, just a little.
She swats at his arm before hooking it, and they make their way over slowly towards the small entourage of guests for their wedding. Patroclus waits by the altar a few paces back, together with Agamemnon and Clytemnestra, with baby Orestes in Clytemnestra's arms. Achilles disinvited everyone else, including Menelaus.
As they make their way over Achilles feels a sharp pinch in his bicep and finds his betrothed looking up at him.
"Do keep talking. Who was the other person you had an intriguing talk with? Odysseus?"
He cannot help the derisive snort that fights its way out his throat.
"Hardly. He was the other dull and tedious one. Your mother yanked my blinders regarding the king of Ithaka off quite violently."
Before Achilles can elaborate a menagerie of rather curious guests appear. Of course, he believed his marriage would be unordinary, but Achilles never expected this. It is a procession, really.
Seven hunting dogs, two black-and-white ones, three red, one spotted and an enormous patchwork dam to lead the pack. A flock of guinea fowls gather on the forest's edge, with an enormous boar on one end a gigantic bear at the other. Lastly, the five Cernytian Hinds emerged from the forest, the first missing a single golden antler and the other four pulling an elaborate in that chariot -
"Is that-"
Iphigenia cannot even speak the name. Achilles looks around and sees Clytemnestra seemingly at a loss for words; that sight is a first to Achilles. Patroclus is rather calm but then again, Achilles most loyal friend grew up with the son of Thetis. Agamemnon seems ready to soil himself. No surprise there. Only little Orestes seems calmer suddenly. Neither a surprise here.
After all, Artemis is also a protector Goddess of Children. However. It's still her.
"Yes."
There is no need for any other words.
"How?"
Artemis takes her time, and Achilles believes it is in order to be kind to the flustered Iphigenia. He was wrong to accuse her yesterday. Well, not wrong. Artemis is fickle and cruel, true. But she can be kind. Achilles believes all gods have the capacity. Immortality simply eroded their patience.
"She was my last conversation partner."
Iphigenia turns to him and looks like she sees him truly, for the first time.
"You went to talk to Artemis, and she answered?"
She has so much to learn Achilles realizes.
"I am the son of Thetis, and I will be heard."
It is not an opinion. It is a fact.
His bride is not of a mind to follow much of the ceremony. Actually, Achilles doubts any of the guests can remain very cognizant in the center of the maelstrom of divine energy that is Artemis, the Goddess of the Wild.
Still, Achilles and Iphigenia are wed and whisked away before the others recover, and although Achilles knew this was his fate, he mourns his last chance for his childhood dream of glory.
He comes to at an unknown shore, Iphigenia asleep at his side, and steps out of a new cave to look at the moon. To his surprise, the officiator of his wedding still has not left.
"My sister asked me to leave you with a gift. She was very pleased with your invitation, but she did not want to draw attention to your wedding."
Artemis holds out a golden apple with three words inscribed on it. Achilles cannot suppress a small shudder at the sight.
Life is Strife
The words carved into the apple like marble leave an impression of frustration and desire. It is vexing. Achilles wants to eat and eat, and he does not want to share. It takes all his willpower to pull his eyes away from it.
"Why?"
"Your abandoning of the Greek army has balanced the scales of the conflict in Troy and Eris expects a longer war. She thrives on discord, Achilles. As for the apple, well. You are a demigod. Your wife is not. You will outlive her by decades to centuries if she does not carry an element of the divine. This apple will balance that. Just because she embodies strife does not mean Eris is evil."
Achilles does not understand entirely, but then again, he does not have to. He still cannot believe the way his life changed so quickly and so drastically.
Three days ago, he was set on the capture of Troy as prophesized and reveled in the eternal glory it promised.
Two days ago, he understood that he needed to prevent Iphigenia's sacrifice if his capture of Troy were to remain glorious at all.
One day ago, he bribed a goddess and abandoned his dreams, and he was given a new prophecy that one day his blood was to rule the entire mesogeios.
Today he was married to a bride he did not know with a long life ahead of him. Maybe he will come to love her, and maybe that will be enough to forget the dreams of glory he'd had.
Artemis must have felt something from him then.
"Your choice today destined you for the Elysian Fields. Enjoy your new life her in Ῑ̓ταλίᾱ."
Achilles looks up, but the goddess is already gone. And Achilles is only left with the hope that maybe his sacrifice was worth it all.