WHO: Briseis & Patroclus WHEN: Trojan War times, Ancient Greece WHERE: the Greek camp WHAT: The mighty Achilles is dead and Patroclus is left the claim what belongs to his cousin. WARNINGS: Patroclus being seriously icky in regards to women :/ NOTES: This is all my fault because now!Pat is such a teddy bear and back then he was so... Greek and I love it. That is all.
Achilles was dead. She's seen his body brought back to camp and something inside her had broken.
Briseis was huddled in a tent with the other concubines that had belonged to the great warrior but she had no idea what would happen to her now. Mere months ago he had taken Briseis from her palace after murdering her brothers and husband, and now he was dead as well. Briseis and Achilles had found the beginnings of some sort of trust together and he'd never laid a forceful hand upon her despite the fact that she belonged to him. Now her future was uncertain. Achilles had been strangely willing to wait for her to come to him, and not even her husband had done that.
So now she wept for the master who had been kind to her and for her own future, so uncertain while Greek warriors argued over who would take all that had belonged to their general.
The arguing over Achilles' belongings had begun and Patroclus had excused himself from the entire messy business. Achilles had been his cousin, his brother. It would be up to him to lead this rabble of men to victory and he now had to do it without his general.
He wanted none of Achilles' possessions save one.
Just one thing to soothe his broken heart.
Patroclus entered into the tent that housed Achilles' concubines and he found what he was searching for when he spotted the fair-haired Briseis. She had come to them not three months ago and in that time Patroclus had soothed her and told her that Achilles would be kind to her; would take her as a wife. And in his absence it seemed only fair that he do the same.
"Briseis," Patroclus said, stepping over to her, a hand extended. The look on his face conveyed the deep grief he was trying to keep buried inside.
Briseis could make him feel better.
Briseis looked up at Patroclus, her master's friend and cousin. He looked so deeply sad and broken and she recognised that from within herself. "Patroclus," she whispered, taking his hand, glad that it would be someone like Achilles to take her now. "Thank you, my lord."
"We have to go now," Patroclus said, sure that if he delayed then Ajax or Odysseus might take her and he would not have that. "To my tent. Hurry now."
Briseis nodded quickly, gathering the folds of her dress around her so that she could move more easily to follow him. Of course she would go with him if it meant escaping a horrible fate with one of the other warriors who had watched her these months, those that seemed crueler. She'd seen the treatment of the concubines in this camp and she knew what could await her.
So with Patroclus she went and at his tent she dropped to her knees in front of him once they were inside. "Thank you, Lord. Thank you for coming for me!"
Patroclus put his hand gently on Briseis' head, feeling the silkiness of her hair. "Rise, child." He knew she would be grieving too, even if not near his grief. "Rise and look at me."
Briseis stood as she was told and looked up to meet his eyes, her own tearful. Her voice was an anguished whispered. "He said he would make me his bride."
Patroclus firmed his jaw, willing himself not to break down in front of this woman. His Achilles was dead.
It couldn't be true, but it was.
"I know, child. I will look after you in his stead."
At his words Briseis felt something further in her crumble and she fought back the sob in her throat. "Thank you," she whispered again. "Patroclus, thank you." Then she hugged him, a break from any sort of properness she probably should show, but they had both lost a friend.
With her body pressed against him, Patroclus has sure she was what he needed to help mend his broken heart.
Patroclus had never really understood Achilles' way of treating his women. Women were property and Achilles had never treated them as such. Patroclus did. And while Briseis had been a companion of his while she belonged to Achilles, now she belonged to Patroclus.
"You're welcome," Patroclus said softly. "And now you will show me your appreciation."
Briseis looked at him as they parted and he spoke, and she frowned, confused. Despite the fact that she had been married four months before the Greeks had attacked her city, Briseis still understood so little of men. At her age - at thirteen - she could have already been giving birth to her husband's children, but there was still an innocent about her that was not destroyed. She was, in many ways, still just a child.
"My lord?" she whispered, unsure if he meant what she was beginning to believe he meant.
Patroclus reached out and he cupped her chin, raising her face so she would look up at him. "You belong to me now," he said quietly, because he wasn't unkind, he just knew his place and thus, he knew hers. "Undress."
"Please," Briseis whispered, shaking her head and backing away from him a little. "Don't." Since her time with Achilles her body had been her own. The blonde warrior hadn't forced himself upon her and the only memories she had of sex were the violent passions of her now dead king. And now Patroclus owned her and the same horrors would follow.
Patroclus would never hurt her unnecessarily, but Briseis didn't seem to understand her place here. "Briseis," he said, his voice conveying his authority. "I will not hurt you. But this is your place now. I am grieving for my lost brother, and I will take comfort in you."
"I thought-" But what had she thought? That Patroclus would show the same bizarre kindness that Achilles had? Even in her naivete she had known Achilles' actions were not usual, that his kindness to her as a prize was completely wrong in the eyes of the other men.
"What?" Patroclus asked, growing impatient. She was thinking now? Wasn't that dangerous? "I have saved you from being claimed by another warrior who will not treat you with the same respect I am showing you right now."
Briseis dropped her eyes and swallowed. He was right, of course. He was asking her to remove her clothes. He had not struck her, not pushed her face down into the dirt, not torn at her. He was giving her a respect she didn't deserve as a prize.
"Thank you," she whispered very quietly and then reached with a shaking hand for the clip on her shoulders that held the folds off cloth on her body. She undid them and let the dress slid down her and onto the floor. She couldn't look up at him.
Patroclus looked at her body, examining every inch of her. He had chosen his prize well.
He stepped forward, placing his rough hands on her sides, feeling her silky skin beneath his fingertips. He lifted her fact to his and he smiled down at her. "You are a beautiful prize," he said, and he kissed her deeply.
Briseis shuddered at the kiss and let it happen for a moment, but then she shrugged against him, yanking herself away. "Achilles would not stand for this!" she shouted, a little desperately.
Patroclus firmed his jaw as Briseis pulled away from him. "Achilles would rather see you in my possession than theirs! Or would you rather go to a warrior who will use you as he sees fit and then cast you aside to starve?"
"Please," Briseis begged, still backing away. "I'm frightened. Achilles never- he-" He'd never demanded this of her, even though he'd so clearly wanted to. Wasn't Patroclus supposed to be just like him?
"I won't hurt you," Patroclus said, extending a hand to her which was not so much offering as demanding. "I am not Achilles. I am your lord now. Don't make me punish you, I haven't the stomach for it."
Briseis moved towards him slowly and with a whimper, reaching out for his hand as she closed that distance. "I don't want you to hurt me," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
"I know you are," Patroclus said to her in a patronising way. "And I know you'll want to make me happy too. You'll be rewarded for doing so, Briseis."