Amberdeengirl, what on Earth are you doing?

Quite simple,

I am not studying for exams, I am not resolving the cliffhanger I wrote months ago, and I've left poor Bella in a bit of a state back in Force de la Beaute.

Instead, I'm writing a Troy Fanfic, which I didn't think of doing until a few hours ago!


Well, I was thinking about Romeo and Juliet today, because I was watching it for studying, and of course their death made me think of Achilles and Briseis.

I love them. And I think it was just too short lived.

Most chapters shall be longer than this (much longer).

And most chapters won't change POV like this one. It only does because it's important to get a base for what's going on.

Enjoy and Review! Will certainly need reviews!

I see that night as well as I see the present. The flames, piercing the darkness, ravaging my home. Men, their minds turned by the idea honour and class, killing whoever stood in their way, raping the women, causing pain which they would never understand, even if they did come to regret. That night will always be remembered, by all who are left, both Trojans and Greeks. That night was the night Troy was taken, the night it fell to Agamemnon. But to me...I do not see those things. No names, no sides, no enemies, no friends. No, I only remember him.

I remembered him tense in my arms, his face twisting as he tried to cover the pain. His pride came before many things, that I knew. I remembered him holding me. His strong, muscular arms clasped around my shoulders as mine clasped around his. He comforting me, even though it was my duty to comfort him. My Achilles.

I did not bother to feign neutrality as I watched over the scene before me. Women being ravaged, children being thrown from the walls, much as the King's son, Hector, had predicted. Hector. If I had been allowed to save him, I would have. But they did not let me. For that I despised them. The Fates. I their vassal, only able to do their bidding. To love no one, to befriend no one, to be understood by no one. But I could not think myself unlucky. For when the Fates make mistakes...I am the one who can fix them. And for that, at least, I am thankful.

Of course, now I was even more angry with them. For I wished I could have arrived sooner. To save Patroclus, to save Hector, to save all these people who now died below me. But I could not...well, I could stop further death. I felt my magic rushing through my body with angry persistence. I could freeze the arms of these violent men. I could shoot Agamemnon in the back with my bow. I could save the people of Troy...but, I knew, it would not bode well for me.

Quickly, so as not to think of it any more, I turned from the balustrade, and snuck into the dark shadows of a stone pavilion. 'Twas sick, really. Agamemnon had ordered his men away from the body of the greatest warrior to ever live. He had commanded them to leave. It reeked of sore pride, which almost made me laugh. Even on the night King Agamemnon took Troy, whose walls had ne'er been breached, Achilles was put before him. Achilles was the legend.

Still, the absence of men did help me somewhat. Questions are asked when I show myself, and even more when I show what I can do. I'd been mistaken for a Goddess more than once, and it's never fun when people get on their knees praying for you.

I crept round the corner, trying to ignore the piercing cries of people down below. To think that my charge was part of what caused all this. But I could not deny him, nor the girl. Not simply because of fate, but because of the love I had witnessed between them.

It was then that I saw him, lying in the middle of a rectangle of grass. His armour pierced with the arrows of Paris. The colour in his cheeks fading fast. Too fast, even for me.


The pain. I would not let it conquer me. I would not let myself falter at this last second. I would stay strong, I would not feel it. I would not. I had taken my last breath as I watched her leave. Now, everything was indistinct. The flames of raging fires darkened. The pain was thinning. All light left me. I was leaving this world...


My mother had told me this would be my fate. I accepted it. I would not have second thoughts. I would be strong. I would not even curse Agamemnon. Nor Paris, for he was little more than a boy. For he would protect her, when I could not.

"Achilles, listen to me."

And there was nothing else I could do now. I had chosen this fate. But I could not help the spark in my mind. The one which told me that everything had changed since I made my choice in the shallow waters of my homeland.

"Achilles! You must fight!"

Now the boatman waited for me. The men, all the men who I had killed, would be waiting by the shores. To serenade me, to torture me, I did not know. I did not care. I would be famous in the afterlife. As I had been in this world, I would be in the next. My honour would live on. I would rule the same as I did here. Rule men and women's hearts alike. Nothing would change...nothing, except her. She would not be love...but she would be safe. That was all that mattered. That was all I could think of her.

I felt as if I was floating now, floating away into the darkness. My foot burned no longer, my chest, pierced with arrows, now felt light. Death seemed easy.

"Achilles! Awaken! Be not so weak!"

A voice...someone was calling me. I listened again. But I was in a void, entirely, impossibly, silent. I did not breathe. I did not even truly see. It was an awareness, not sight. In fact, now I did not feel at all. Not my armour, not my body...I was simply a soul.

"Awaken! Awaken you King of Warriors! Damn! Have you no honour!"

No honour? Of course, of course I had honour. An honour to the blade, the skill. To the men I had killed. To the men who fought with me. They thought me honourable. "I do." I said. My voice? I had no idea how it had come to me.

"Then you will return here! Come back! The time is not now!"

"What do you mean?" My thoughts, not simple observations, began coming to me again. I could not work out whether the voice was of a man or a woman. Perhaps a young boy? And who were they? Were they going to the afterlife as well? What were they telling me?

"Your fate is not this, Achilles."

"It is," I told the voice, "It is what the gods have decreed."

"The gods make mistakes on occasion. Now return."

"Friend," I said, deciding it was definitely a child, "You cannot return from death."

"Friend," Now the voice was sarcastic, "I would not doubt my word. I know more of such things than you."

"Who are you? The boatman?"

It ignored me "Tell me, Achilles, one said to be great and mighty, what reason have you to die?"

"What reason have I to live?"

"You try not to think of her now, but it will plague you for all eternity."

"Watch what you speak of."

"How can you threaten me?" The voice almost laughed, "You have no body, you have no sword. You are defenceless."

What was this? What trickery of the gods?

"Achilles," The voice was closer now than ever. "The time is not right. She needs you. Briseis, Achilles, Briseis!"

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"I cannot explain in this void. You must return with me now, for my powers weaken by the second."

"You lie," I said uncertainly. Confusion was overtaking me. It was something I was not used to. Even in the heat of battle, I knew all that went on. Every attack coming my way. Now I did not understand.

"You made a choice to die, did you not?"

My mother, the waters. "Yes."

"Men cannot choose their death, Achilles. Fate does."

"Then fate must have touched my mind in that moment, for here I am."

"And here I am, telling you to return to your world. And there Briseis is...walking to her doom."

"What?" I asked sharply to the darkness.

"Achilles, foolish man, I cannot discuss this here. The void is a dangerous place."

"What do you know of Briseis?" I ordered.

"She is in danger. Now we must leave."

"Tell me!"

"She is in danger, and that is all I am allowed to say. I must leave now. I cannot save her. Only you can. Return with me or go to the underworld and live a painful, long afterlife, and watch as her pain unfolds. But I leave now."

"Will you tell me soon?"

"You will find out soon enough," the voice was getting fainter. "Farewell, Achilles."

"NO!" I cried out, my voice loud as my battle cry. "I will go!"

"Good." After that, the voice whispered something hastily. Everything snapped. Blazing light, screams, shouting filled the cold night air.

I let out a terrible cry of pain, writhing on the bloodied ground. Pain. Pain everywhere. My heel, oh sweet gods. My hand gripped the grass, tearing it out of the soil. "Damn you, voice!" I yelled. Suddenly, there were footsteps on the stones. I tried to look up.

"Achilles!" It was Odysseus's voice, powerful, though out of breath. His armour clunked as he sunk to his knees beside me. "By the Gods, you are said to be dead."

"Mmm," I grunted, trying to preserve myself in spite of the jolts of fire burning from my foot, "the gods could not get the better of me, old friend."

"You are wounded," he said, examining me. He didn't know the worst of it.

"I will live, Odysseus, I will..." I began to feel dizzy, though I was on the ground. My vision of Odysseus was blurred, his worried features going in and out of focus. "Mmm," I groaned, "get me inside,"

Then I sunk into unconsciousness, my last thought not of pain, but of her. Of Briseis.

Please Review! Need brain (and ego) food to write!