AN: A plot bunny that wouldn't stop harassing me until written down. Came about after a re-watch of Troy, because you know, Brad Pitt is still young and virile. He's gone all paternal nowadays :P I always wondered what happened to Briseis and in extension Thetis. Wish that there were more of women's stories in films. Totally un-betad but hopefully readable. And yes, I'm terribly aware of all the historical inaccuracies.

Disclaimer: I do not own Troy or any of it's characters.


Thetis is of the sea. Her eyes spoke of its wisdom but also of its impetuousness. Those irises sing of eerie depths of water, where strangeness dwells. When Peleus took her from the sea, longing sprung up for she was of the sea. Years trickled by but her eyes remained ageless and azure and the yearning never abated. She settles on the shores of Phthia, for Thetis could not endure the dust and smoke of cities. There she brought forth Achilles and for some time her longing was eased. But time flows quickly for those with foresight and Achilles sails to Troy, to glory and death. Thetis has no bond left, yet she lingers, wading in the water and gathering shells, ageless eyes filled with grief.


Thetis is of the sea and she can feel the change. It's a soft breeze that comes from the sea, subtle and sweet. It reminds her of long ago when she and Achilles wandered alone for days up the coast. It was before he grew tall and the glitter of bronze and blood took their hold of him. They walked during the cool evenings and then slept upon furs. When morning came they would catch fish and pick honeyed figs. During the hot noons they would swim in the sea and then rest under the shade of trees. Thetis would then tell tales of the old ages, of her father's kindred and their descent, and perhaps the seed of Achilles willful disdain against the gods was planted then. Thetis remembers lying under a cypress, watching Achilles climb cliffs and leap off them into the sea with his custom bravery. Then she knows that the rocks and waters are not the true danger, but that bravery. After he has tired she gathers him in her arms, earning a puzzled glance. He smells of sea, tangy and salt and yet, sweet with the scent of a child's unwashed hair. That was long ago, and now it's in the air again. And the ageless eyes fix upon the horizon, wondering.


With the breeze comes a ship, different from those of the Greeks. Even before she sees the darker hair and more olive complexions than those of Aeolia, Thetis knows that they come from beyond the sea. Their leader is a young man, serious and haggard beyond his years, asking for a reprieve to restock with water. Thetis grants it. As the ragged travellers gather on the beach she sees the child. With unruly hair and unruly spirit he approaches her with wobbly steps in the sand. Thetis notices the shells around his neck, a necklace made long ago for another child. She crouches down and offers a finger, which the boy grasps with his chubby hand. Thetis perceives in that scion's assured blue gaze from whence he comes. The mother finds him and scoops her dear treasure up in her arms. The child gurgles, grabbing after her sienna locks and the mother stares at Thetis with something akin to realization.


The ship sets sail that same day, continuing its long voyage on the Aegean. With it goes mother and child. Thetis watches the ship fade away into the distance and even long after its disappearance she remains on the beach. The sudden cry of a gull unsettles her and she begins to wander along the coast to old haunts. As the sky darkens to indigo she halts by the waterline. The waves are beckoning and she is finally answering its call. As the night fades into the palest blue, into a dawn with no rays she unties the bonds that unwittingly formed to the land. Thetis is of the sea and in the tranquil waters the grief of years is eased, and the ageless eyes smile.