Patrick Clark | Patroclus (borrowed_armor) wrote in nevermore_past, @ 2012-07-25 10:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | achilles, polyxena |
Who: Achilles and Polyxena
What: The time has come, time to break your heart and give me your weakness. Achilles meets Polyxena in the garden.
Where: Garden inside Trojan walls, just by the east gate, Troy, Turkey
When: 1400 BC
Note: Reposted as a favour
Achilles was running on empty, fueled by only his hate. He had never held any loathe for the Trojans until now. He had never killed any men from the towns and cities he sacked unless threatened. Any potential soldiers that could injure his own life (prophecy or not) were to be mowed down like cattle. The rest were stripped of their possessions, taken into slavery, sold or given as ransom. It wasn't until Hector took Patroclus' life that Achilles had a blood red veil placed over his eyes. He no longer had the ability to be forgiving. He'd waded in the river Scamander knee deep in blood. The blood of farmers, soldiers, and princes. The women that wailed for their lost sons, husbands and fathers would not feel his mercy now.
At the time he'd agreed to meet Polyxena, the Greeks were fast on the Trojan's heels. Their chief prince was dead and Achilles had shown no remorse for his body. Priam had come to beg for the body, Polyxena had offered her jewels as ransom. The few times he had seen the young girl had been under the same unpleasant circumstances. He'd killed her brother Troilus in the earlier years of war, when Achilles was coming into his own as a general. He'd been threatened and had made good on his promise. Polyxena, like every woman or girl he'd come across was spared. He'd told her to flee before the other Greek soldiers caught a glimpse of her. She was pretty, she was royalty, they would abuse her in all unnatural ways. He wouldn't allow that, so he'd spared her. An uncommon act for a man of his stature. As an enemy.
This time he came to her worn out, beaten by his own guilt. Nothing had taken away the pain that gripped him so tight. Not the promises of his mother, the comfort of Briseis or Agamemnon's offerings. Hector's death above all had done nothing to quench that thirst for blood. This life came with a price. He was ready for his fate to take it's stand. To full-fill that prophecy, because only then would death be given. Only then would he be put to ease.
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[info]manyxenas
2011-12-16 06:15 pm (local) (link) Track This
Polyxena met him, her wrath for the things he had done hidden behind the veil of a soft smile. She had been kind to him in the wake of Patroclus' death, and then she had had to pay a ransom to get her dead brother's body back.
And even still, her feelings for the Greek warrior were confused. He had saved her once.
"Achilles," she said softly, holding out her hand to him.
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[info]chink_in_armor
2011-12-16 06:28 pm (local) (link) Track This
He wasn't soaked with blood the time. Her brother's blood. His armor fit him like a glove, gleaming even in the blanket of night. His eyes were tired, they'd lost their brilliance. A part of Achilles would never be satisfied now until this was over.
He approached her with that tall, arrogant stride, but something in him had shifted. He was the murderer now. He could see that look in her eyes even if she didn't say it.
He offered a hand out for her to sit before he followed.
"I recieved your ransom. Your brother is returned to you now." For eleven days the Greeks and the Trojans had ceased fighting so that proper burials could be made.
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[info]manyxenas
2011-12-19 06:50 pm (local) (link) Track This
Polyxena said nothing. She simply nodded. She wasn't going to thank him for returning the body of her brother. She felt that he had stubbornly held on to it for too long.
"Is the great warrior tired?" she asked instead.
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[info]chink_in_armor
2011-12-22 06:12 pm (local) (link) Track This
She was baiting him, he could see it on her face. He'd dragged Hector through the mud on Trojan soil all the way through his camp hoping from some reconciliation for his tortured soul, but even Patroclus' spirit had wished him to put a stop to his madness.
He took a seat by the fountain. The garden was small, just a small strip of green. It was the closest inside the walls that Achilles would ever come. His take over for Troy would fail, and part of him knew that.
"I am," he spoke proudly, the restlessness heavy on his voice.