A/N: This is one of my favorite movies, if not the favorite. I am glad to be writing this story. All the characters do not belong to me, they belong to Homer or the people who made this movie. But the plot is mine. Enjoy...
The fires burned. The city was enveloped with bitter smoke, sweltering heat, as well as the screams of the dying and the smell of the dead. Innocent women held their children tightly and ran for their lives, all thoughts forgotten but for the intent of survival.
"Burn! Let Troy burn!" Agamemnon laughed maniacally, a triumphant smirk on his face. Yes, Troy was falling, the imbreachable walls had been breached, and the best fighters were killed. The country was like a pack of wild wolves without a leader. he had waited ages for this moment. He, Agamemnon would soon rule the world. He raised his hands to the sky as though to mock the Gods, daring them to do something to stop him. He cackled, baring his crooked and yellow teeth, those fools, the Gods cannot protect you now.
Priam stood at the topmost tower of his palace, unable to believe and comprehend what was happening in front of him. The view was both great and terrible. The city was aflame, the fires illuminated the night sky, everything he loved was dying, and burning. He trembled, tears in his eyes. He felt the deepest of regret. He should have listened to his sons, they were wise while he had been an old fool. If he had listened to Hector, oh if he had all but listened to his eldest son Hector would never have died, and Troy would never have fallen. All because of his eagerness to defeat the Greeks. He reached out to touch the stone railing to steady himself. Burn it, Father, burn it. Paris's voice rang in his head, words of caution, haunting him. Had he believed Paris, and refused to play into the hands of Agamemnon, then none of this would have happened. He was a failure, to his sons, to his people, to his country.
Achilles pulled out his sword and tried to get through the crowds of people. He scanned the burning streets for Briseis, but she was no where in sight. He caught sight of a couple of Trojan guards, charging at him, moments before they brought their swords above their heads. In a flash and a clang of swords, one of them was down and the other shoved the body aside as it fell on top of him. There was pure terror in the man's eyes.
"Where is she? Where is Briseis?" Achilles asked urgently, holding his sword at the guard's throat.
The poor man shook his head, terrified, "Please, I have a son," He begged, pleading with his eyes.
Achilles let go, "Then get him out of Troy."
It was no use, the streets all looked the same to him, smelled the same and sounded the same. How was he going to find Briseis amongst all this chaos? He had a horrible feeling that he was going around in circles. What if she had already-? No! Where are you, Briseis?
Priam watched as the Greeks smashed the statues of the Gods. He watched as they killed his people. He watched as they burned his city to the ground. Not only had they killed, they had shown an outrage of disrespect to the Gods. It was enough!
"Have you honor!" He cried to no one in particular. Nobody answered to the old man standing in the middle of the great room, bellowing his heart out.
"HAVE YOU NO HONOR!" He cried again, louder and in anguish. He raised his sword, but before he was able to do anything, he felt a tearing pain in his stomach. He fell, just in time to see Agamemnon smirking at him, looking as though he hadn't even been worthy enough to have the greedy man lift his sword. Priam wasn't scared of dying, in fact, he welcomed it, but as he watched his murderer turn and walk away, he prayed, with his last breath, may the Gods strike the man down.
Briseis fought through the throng of people, struggling to get to the most private temple within the city. She knew it was going to be a while before the Greeks found it and she could have a small moment of peace. How could Apollo let them do this? Why? What had they done wrong? To deserve this? She ran, lifting her skirt, feeling the sweat and the tears mix to run down her face.
For a moment she thought she was lost inside her own city, then she remembered and hurried down a corridor. She halted as she heard a panicked horse galloping full speed right towards her. The corridor was narrow, but she sidestepped behind a pillar just in time for the horse to go by. She breathed a sigh of relief and went on.
Achilles couldn't believe it, Briseis was no where to be seen. Everytime a small dark-haired woman hurried by, he turned, hoping that she was Briseis. He had known that his plan wasn't going to be easy, that it was flawed, and anything could go wrong. Well, it had sounded simple enough, find Briseis, get her out of the doomed city, and take her far, far away. Except he hadn't been inside Troy before and didn't known his way around the labyrinth of streets and corridors. He fought off a small group of Tojan warriors when suddenly something struck him. Knowing Briseis, she probably went to find the last temple standing to have a final moment with her sun god. Despite the grim situation, Achilles almost smiled.
Briseis knelt down in front of a golden statue of Apollo and clasped her hands together. She prayed for eternal peace for her cousin Hector; for Paris, bravery; for her uncle, Priam the strength to watch his country fall; for her people to survive this massacre; but most of all she prayed for Achilles, hoping beyond hope that he would be all right and that he loved her, as fiercely as she him. The man had stirred something deep inside her and for the last twelve days she had been unable to thiank about anything but him, his strong arms, his broad shoulders, his deep blue eyes, the faint curl of the corner of his lips when he was amused… Briseis felt tears streaming down her cheeks, why did love come this way? Now of all times?
She felt the man behind her before he had even made a move. The darkness of his presence disgusted her, and she hated herself for crying out in pain when he roughly grabbed her hair and hauled her to her feet. Help me, Apollo, she thought desperately.
Agamemnon taunted his little "slave girl", enjoying the extent of his great victory, but he didn't realize that Briseis was sliding something out of her sleeve.
Just as Briseis was struggling against her captor, Achilles turned around the corner and saw them. He gritted his teeth and felt nothing but pure disdain for the man threatening the woman he loved. He was seething with rage. He flew down the hall towards the middle of the courtyard.
But before he could reach them, however, Agamemnon gave a shocked gasp and fell, bleeding profusely from a fatal neck wound. Briseis clutched a bloody dagger in her hand, the horror of what she had just done creeping up at her. She turned to run but a circle Greek soldiers caught her, even as she struggled against their grip she knew it was impossible. She prayed for herself and closed her eyes.
Achilles leaped down the final flight of stairs and struck down the soldiers holding Briseis in the blink of an eye. Briseis opened her eyes and looked around in wonder, then she was gazing deep into the blue eyes of Achilles. She cried his name and clung to him. Oh thank you, Apollo, she said to herself. She had thought she would never see him again.
"Come," Achilles finally pulled himself out of the embrace and held out his hand, "we must-"
Briseis saw the shadows move and the flying arrow in the corner of her eye, moments before it hit its target. Achilles gasped in pain as the arrow shot cleanly through his heel, piercing his achilles' tendon, the most vulnerable part of his body. He looked up and saw Paris. The young prince hurriedly put another arrow in his bow and pulled back, giving the straight long shaft its momentum. He was revenging his brother.
"Paris, NO!" Briseis started towards her cousin, but it was too late. The arrow struck Achilles in the stomach. He staggered, but without hesitation he snapped off the head of the arrow and pulled it out. Paris took up his bow once more. Achilles raised his sword and started towards Paris.
"NO! Please!" Briseis's cries went unheard. She could only watch as her beloved was pierced with not one but three arrows. She let out a dry sob, hurrying back to Achilles.
The great warrior fell to his knees, supporting his weight on his sword. Briseis knelt beside him, cradling his face. Large beads of sweat were pouring off his face as he struggled against the gut-wrenching pain.
Briseis couldn't believe this was happening, she had just gotten him back! She hugged him to her protectively, tears flowing down her cheeks faster than she thought possible. Paris lowered his weapon and watched in wonder as his cousin shared an intimate moment with the man who had killed his brother.
"It's all right," Achilles whispered calmly, not able to speak any louder.
Briseis shook her head fiercely, and pulled him to her for a kiss. His lips were feverish, as was his face. Briseis pressed her lips to his, unwilling to let go. He pulled back finally.
"It's all right," he repeated, soothing her, "You gave me peace in a lifetime of war." That was true, what was also true was that she had made him happy, truly happy as he had never been. And she had made him to fear, to be afraid, for once in his life. He had never been as scared as he was, a while ago, searching the city for her. She had him feel…human.
He reached out and touched her hair, burying his face in it, inhaling her scent. Despite the thick smoke swirling around them, she smelled faintly of lavender, just like she had been when she was in his bed. God, how he wished…never to let go of her.
Paris cleared his throat, "Briseis! Briseis, we must go!" The girl remained beside Achilles, unwilling to move.
"I know a way out! Come on, Briseis!"
Achilles raised his head and looked straight at her, "Go, Briseis." He almost pleaded. If it was his time, so be it, but he didn't want her to suffer too. Briseis only shook her head firmly and hugged him tighter, sniffing.
"Go," he whispered again, gentle but commanding. Briseis looked back at Paris, who gave her an encouraging nod.
She turned back to Achilles and they shared one last kiss, lingering, warm and gentle, expressing more of their feelings for each other than any words could describe. Achilles stroked her hair and said softly one last time, "Go."
Slowly and unsteadily Briseis stood up. Paris held out a hand. She looked uncertainly back at Achilles.
"Briseis," said Paris urgently, "come on."
She grabbed hold of Paris's hand and started up the stairs, still looking back. Achilles gave her a reassuring smile, one that Briseis knew so well, and so loved. With one last desperate glance, Briseis disappeared around the corner.
Achilles felt the last of his strength ebb away. He let go of his sword and lied back on the cold, hard ground in relief.
Briseis was gone. It had seemed to him that all this time he had known her, this short but incredible period of time, all he had ever told her was to go. He had watched her leave him not once but twice, somehow each time he was always encouraging her. It broke his heart to see her go, this was pain beyond his wounds, beyond any physical pain. She was just, gone.
Achilles looked up at the sky, dark and ominous, yet in the midst of all the flames, all the smoke, he could swear he saw a star, streaking across the sky. He closed his eyes, Briseis, his mind whispered, before he sank into a blissful sleep.
So, the great Achilles had fallen, at last…
A/N: It alters between the characters. That is going to happen quite a bit, at least in the first few chapters because all the characters are in different places in the story. Review guys, I would love to hear your comments. Thanks.