Remember

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Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is affiliated to Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the movie Troy.

A/N: This story is the result of a one-shot I wrote awhile ago gone rampant. Just so you know . . . :)


She stood in the water watching her children play on the shore, both as golden as the sun god. Their innocence showed through in the way they played with each other. She could not help but smile as she watched them pretend they were sword fighting with beach wood. Her boy would be a great warrior someday.

He might even be a legend, she thought sadly.

She had a vision, before her son was born, about Troy and his doom and had been watching him his whole life to try and predict which path he would choose. He was proud, even now in his childhood. Every night before she went to bed she prayed to the gods that he would not choose what she thought he would, that he would choose a long mortal life instead of a short one where fame and recognition came after he died. She did not want to outlive her son, especially when she knew she would probably outlive her daughter.

Turning her attention back to finding sea shells for her daughter’s necklace, she thought about the betrothal that her husband had negotiated last week. How ironic it was that the place that her son would probably die would be the place his sister would have been a princess. The boy, Hector, was a few years older than Achilles and was turning out to be quite worthy of his birthright, prince and future king of Troy. She had seen him once, soon after her daughter was born and she remembered him to be a handsome child. If only Laria would be around to wed him.

Unlike her son’s fate, she knew that her daughters’ was set. The gods would be taking her from them soon to a place that she did not know of, a place that was not on any map that she would ever see. Although it was possible that she would go to the underworld, her vision did not make her think that she would die just yet. She would die before her time, but she would be taken from her family much sooner than that would happen.

She looked up when she heard the sound of a splash and turned her head towards her children. Laria had slipped on a wet stone and fell in the water. She was about to walk over to her daughter and try to stop her tears when she saw Achilles go to her and pick her up in his arms.

My boy is so strong, stronger than all the other boys his age. Soon he will be old enough to fight in the wars he dreams of.

Watching her son wipe her Laria’s tears gave her hope that the tenderness he showed her was a portent to the man he would become. It was a bittersweet thought however, because she knew the likelihoods of the future.

Laria’s tears did not seem to let up at all but, enjoying the scene her children were giving her, she did not interfere. Achilles was not patient but he was also not stupid. She watched as he picked up her stick and tried to give it to her but Laria would have nothing of it. She turned her back on him, crossed her arms, and put her head on her knees. Achilles tried once again to give her the stick and she ignored him. Giving up with friendliness, he turned to the one thing that always got to Laria, and, whether he knew it or not, himself. He decided to bring about some of her ire and was taunting her.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it. You would make a horrible warrior; you’re just a puny girl. I’m going to see if Xanathos is back from town yet, at least he would be a challenge!” he said as he started to walk away.

“I can too! I’m going to be a great warrior someday, even better than you!” she said as she chased after him.

“I don’t think so, little one,” he commiserated, “at times you show promise but then you falter. Warriors don’t falter. You never heard of Hercules falling down and crying did you?”

“I wasn’t crying, I just got sand in my eyes is all. Give me my sword and I’ll show you who is a better warrior brother.”

Achilles smiled as he gave the ‘sword’ back to his sister with great ceremony.

“We will see who is the better warrior sister,” he said and proceeded to swing his stick around, starting the game all over again.

The resilience of my children never ceases to amaze me.

Seeing that all was well, she continued to look for more shells to make Laria’s necklace. She wanted her to always have something to remember her family by. Someday, she might come home. It was a feeble wish, she knew, but as long as her daughters’ true death was at bay, there would always hope. With hope in her heart, she started to dream up a future for Laria.

Prince Hector would be a good match for Laria’s fiery spirit. Already they called him ‘the tamer of horses’, a title that said much about his character. To be named such meant that he would have to be patient, which is certainly a trait he would need with Laria, but he would also have to be firm. Back his words up with action. That would quickly gain the respect of her daughter who was intolerant of deceit and impressed by results.

Their children would be beautiful. She reflected on Hector’s dark features and her daughter’s golden ones and tried to envision the children they would sire.

Wiping a tear from her face she started to walk back towards the shore. She would make the necklace for her daughter and hope that someday she would return and that the necklace would make her remember. It would not matter if she knew her name, if she knew her city of Larissa.

If only she could remember something of us, of this day, of the love we have for her and the love she has for us.

She cleared the dark thoughts from her head, put a bright smile on her face, and prepared to savor the last few days she had with the whole of her family.


Reviews are most welcome . . .