on why original Patrochilles is pure horror & depression
Consider the Iliad, I haven’t read TSOA.
In the Iliad, glory is the most important value ever, and the best way to gain it is killing other people.
Achilles loves violence because it leads him to glory. He doesn’t only fight because it’s the right thing to do, he fights because he wants glory, and stops fighting when it’s best for his honor. Patroclus is a painfully compassionate human being, which leads him to hate violence. He chooses to fight Hector because he knows that it will stop the war, regardless if he wins or if he dies. He also probably knows he’ll die.
I don’t think he actually hopes to meet Achilles again into the dark, since I have never heard of an ancient writer who thinks there’s happiness after death, or describes a love that goes on after death without the help of the gods - please tell me if otherwise. Now let’s consider Pat’s final choice.
Patroclus chooses death instead of Achilles. He prefers being dead instead of seeing other people dying. While Patroclus is still alive - while he begs Achilles to go and end the war - Achilles doesn’t want to see how sad Patroclus is about all this. How desperate he is. Because it’s easier for Achilles this way; Achilles is deeply selfish here. He even calls him out: “Why are you crying like a little girl?” Patroclus understands this and it probably makes him even sadder. For ten years he has seen the man-he-loves-the-most doing the thing-he-hates-the-most. Every day. And he has seen how much Achilles is happy of that. It’s enough for Patroclus now. Patroclus knows Achilles will suffer a lot for losing him, but he doesn’t care enough. I mean, he cares, but he prefers ending the war. He prefers leaving a world where people kill each other in exchange for glory; where love for other human beings comes after glory, where crying for the dead ones is a concern for little girls.
do u guys even realize how silena went into battle dressed as clarisse mimicked the way patroclus headed into war dressed as achilles and how clarisse went full on fight frenzy mirrored the way achilles exploded in all out killing rage when they found out about their loved one’s death
I can’t handle the ships that just obviously love each other so damn much. The ships where their entire world revolves around each other and they look at their lover with stars and galaxies in their eyes. The couples that can’t dream to be in a world without the other or the pairings that need each other to breathe. I can’t handle it when they practically radiate love and affection, and I my heart lurches when I see/read them doing anything that implies that they are nothing but the world to each other. The ships that are just the definition of unconditional love. I can’t handle the fact that if something goes wrong, both are hurt equally. I can’t stand it when the pain one feels is so strong or influential that both their world seems to fall apart. The ships that are one and the same, the ones that are one entity, encompassed by just how much they love each other. I can’t stand those kinds of ships because it’s just so beautiful and pure that reading/seeing so much love being shared between two people makes it feel like i’m looking at the sun and god, if one day I could achieve that for myself then wouldn’t that just be absolutely wonderful.
- Patroclus’ father abandoned him or he was taken away by social services because he was a shit father but it’s okay because Pat was adopted by Chiron so Chiron is effectively his dad
- Achilles lives with Peleus and Peleus and Chiron live next door to each other so Achilles and Patroclus grew up together
Achilles and Patroclus would go round each other’s houses a lot and
Thetis would be so :/// at that but Peleus and Chiron are totally cool
- Chiron can totally tell when Patroclus and Achilles
started banging and he’s like “fINALLY” but Pat and Achilles still think
it’s a secret lmao. He figured it out because what platonic teenage
boys have sleepovers and sleep in the same bed and act so lovingly with
each other (((and he can hear them)))
- Achilles is really loud in bed and Patroclus tries to shut him up because he’s worried his dad will hear (he totally does) but Achilles does this thing and Patroclus stops complaining and starts moaning himself
- Chiron and Peleus are cool dads
and have BBQs together and for a while Patroclus and Achilles try to
act platonic but they totally fail and Chiron just says to Peleus “it’s
funny how they think we don’t know” and they’re like “hah hah hah”
One day they’re sick of hiding so when Chiron, Peleus, Patroclus and
Achilles are having a movie night Achilles puts his arm round Pat and
Pat rests his head on Achilles’ shoulder and puts his hand on his thigh
and Achilles rests his cheek agains the top of Pat’s head and Chiron and
Peleus smile knowingly at each other and thAT’S HOW THEY COME OUT
- They’re sUper PDA at school
- Patroclus acts embarrased when Achilles kisses him in public but he LOVES it really
Pat is always slightly surprised when Achilles kisses him in public but
after being shocked and embarrassed for a second he smiles into the
kiss and Achilles is grinning as he kisses him and im,,
- Patroclus watches Achilles run track after school and he lazily sketches him
- All the girls are thirsty for Achilles but Achilles only cares about his bf
- Some of the girls resent Pat but then they realise how nice he is most of them don’t mind him so much
- Achilles, Patroclus and Briseis are such a sQUAD and Pat is like the glue that keeps them together
A ton of the girls are really jealous of Briseis for being able to be
close to Achilles but when it becomes obvious Achilles and Patroclus are
together and they realise she’s more friends with Pat than Achilles
it’s more chill and she becomes friends with a bunch of the girls on the
side (Patroclus and Achilles are her main baes tho)
and Patroclus are lab partners and Achilles is an asshole and Pat does
most the work and Achilles tries to distract him during experiments by
kissing his neck and shit and Pat is a mixture of annoyed and turned on
this could literally go on forever but it’s already too long so I shall stop
Thank you all for the support - 230+ followers! We couldn’t get there without you lovely people! Give these authors, who spend their time writing these amazing fics for you all, some love. Here’s your weekly 3x3:
Yuri and Otabek are living together in St Petersburg. Yuri is obliviously in love with his best friend. Otabek is in love with him, too, but prefers to keep his infatuation a secret.
JJ, on the other hand, is sick and tired of seeing his friend suffer when he could obviously be having the time of his life next to the person he loves. So, he decides to help them by sending a text to Yuri from Otabek’s phone while the Kazakh is doing an interview the afternoon after the men’s FS at Worlds in Helsinki.
The fact that it is April 1st doesn’t cross anyone’s mind until it’s a little too late.
This is what Otabek thinks, while he watches Yuri move, like the start of a very old story you thought you knew by heart only to discover something new. Yuri’s skates slice into the upper layer of ice when he lands in the same way that Achilles sword and spear must have sliced into his opponents’ flesh. Like going home.
They called Yuri the Russian fairy, but when Otabek watches him he has never seen lush green trees or heard bubbling brooks or tasted fresh dirt on the air; he hears thunder, tastes iron, sees ripples of bronze. Otabek watches as Yuri slashes across the center of the ice, bold and powerful and disarming and so gentle all at once. Yuri skates like dreaming, his head is thrown back the way it is when he crashes on the couch, but his arms are not careless about his head. His mouth is open in a pant.
Otabek bites his tongue to stop himself from something, he doesn’t know what. Yuri spins dizzyingly fast.
Yuri is stuck in a small town where time stands still, spending his days working in a crappy Diner and dancing his nights away at dodgy clubs, dreaming of the day he can get out & wishing for something interesting to happen.
Someone like Yuri, someone with long golden hair, a feisty attitude and a fondness for tight clothes and lip-gloss, doesn’t belong to a outdated place like this. That’s what Otabek thinks whenever he comes driving through on his bike & he finds himself coming back for the sassy waiter, over and over again.
This is a songfic based on Lana Del Rey’s “Love”.
Otabek is a biker boy with a soft heart for bold boys and Yuri is a wildcat with a guarded heart full of hopes and dreams.
“I brought you up here. You were slumped next to a dumpster. I couldn’t leave you there knowing a blizzard is coming through.”
“A blizzard.” He never really got to watch any news unless he got a few dollars that would buy him a cup of coffee and hours in a diner where they would leave on the television.
“Where are we?” he muttered around the food in his mouth.
“How about introductions first. I am Otabek, what is your name?”
He paused. He was not so sure how to answer the question, as simple as it seemed. No one had asked him his name in years. His brow furrowed as he dug through his memories, chewing thoughtfully on a carrot. He would tell it to himself every night along with other important information so he would not forget, but it was sometimes hard to remember things like that after a while.
Yuri is homeless… passing out next to a dumpster… the billionaire Otabek Altin saves him from a blizzard coming in.
Hey!!!! Dumb question but what exactly is the Iliad?
THE ILIAD: A SUMMARY
The Short Version: A yarn about blokes getting shitmixed in a war over Miss Hellenic Beauty Champion because some gods thought it would be a Lol.
The Long Version: A Homeric epic poem passed down through spoken word over generations that was penned down in about 800 BC. In the mythological timeline, it ends the Age of Heroes (by wasting them all). It covers the Greek seige of Troy, a whole lotta gods Messing With Shit, a Poseidon who needs anger management, a few hundred names and lots of General Epicness ft Diomedes and Patroklus. Sit back my buddy, let’s go through a quick summary of the books.
Book 1: Apollo ghettoblasts the Greeks with Pain because Agamemescunt kidnapped his priestess Chryseis. Being a douchebag, Agadouchebag Mr Steals Yo Girl from Achilles, which leads to
in͟ten̛şȩ ͟śul͜ki͢n̶g͡ . Achilles’ divine Ma brokers a deal with the Zeus goose (not literally thank goodness, although it’s a definite possibility) so that the Greeks won’t win until they realize how fucked they are without Achilles and go crawling back to him for help.
Book 2: Zeus messes with Agafuckface by telling him to attack Troy. Agamemhoe messes with Zeus by telling his entire army to fuck off back to Greece. Odysseus, with Athena’s help, pistol-whips Agaiceheart back into place with a stick. There are 31 paragraphs of names about Greeks and 16 paragraphs of names about Trojans going to war. The epic story continues.
Book 3: The armies meet. Memealaus (sorry, Menelaus) and Paris decide to have a 1v1 to end this shindig. Paris is saved by Aphrodite and a cloud because he is a Weak Bitch, so we gear up for another 9 years and 11 months of war. Helen tells Aphrodite to go fuck Paris herself if she likes him so much, but Aphrodite threatens Godly Bitch Revenge is Helen ever talks back to her like that again.
Book 4: Menelaus gets grazed by an arrow. Like a football player with a stubbed toe, this means war. He also apparently had ‘shapely thighs and fair ankles’. Watch out for the Zeus eagle, boi. Fighting commences. Diomedes appears. He is awesome, as usual. We continue to the next chapter.
Book 5: Pretty much an entire chapter about Diomedes being a son of a gun and killing fucking everything thanks to Athena. A dude called Sthenelus gets a rock hard boner watching all of this. Aeneas thinks it’s a good idea to take on Diomedes. Mistake. Big Mama Aphrodite has to save him, also with a cloud. Diomedes hasn’t quite reached Critical Awesome yet, so he stabs Ares and Aphrodite as well. Hera calls Ares a little bitch and we carry on.
Book 6: Just a lot of death really. Diomedes was going to kill a bloke, but they realize they are family friends, so just do a little swapsie of armour. Hector gives Paris a spray for being a cowardly little bitch, Paris agrees, and they set off for battle.
Book 7: Hector decides to 1v1 and get this over with. Menelaus tries to accept, but his wingmen Restrain Him. Ajax gets picked out of a hat to fight, but after a bit of a tussle it gets dark, so the fighting pair give each other presents and go home for the night. The next day, they all take a holiday from fighting and the Greeks build a wall. Poseidon is triggered. (reason here.)
Book 8: Due to Poseidon being triggered, Zeus forbids any godly interference on both sides of the war. Hera and Poseidon bitch about Zeus as the Greeks get casually wreckt by the Trojans, but decide not to act on it. Lucky for the Greeks, the Trojans decide sleeping is better than winning, so leave off for the night.
Book 9: The Greeks hit Fuck It and decide to grovel to Achilles for help. Before they do, Diomedes gives Agasaggytitnon a spray for being a douchebag, and everyone agrees that he is indeed a douchebag. Sthenelus probably pops another boner. Back in the tent with the power pair, Achilles and Patroklus, Patroklus tries to be the polite bf to the pleading Greeks, but Achilles is still thinks Agamoomoo called him a ‘vile tramp’ so refuses to help. The drama continues.
Book 10: Odysseus and BAMF Diomedes go on a sneak mission and heroically stab the Trojans in their sleep. They also heroically steal some horses. The epic heroism continues.
Book 11: Hector takes a leaf out of Diomedes’ book and decides to shitmix the Greeks. He successfully shitmixes the Greeks, giving Agamugface a well-deserved arm wound. Paris shoots Diomedes in the foot, but Diomedes literally does not give a shit. Some random dude gives Odysseus a bit of a stab, Ajax gets Confused By Zeus but survives, but things still look Grim. Sweetheart Patroklus sees the Grimness and decides to try and use his wiles to break Achilles out of his Uber Sulk.
Book 12: The Trojans continue to roadhaul the Greeks, which will come back to bite Hector, but we do meet a dude called Thootes. He doesn’t do shit, but his name is great. There is graphic violence, and the Trojans go to chuck a Greek ship on the barbie.
Book 13: Poseidon rises from the sea, back being a buddy to the Greeks now the his great enemy The Triggering Greek Wall has been overcome.There is a shit ton of fighting wherein the Greeks do well and Poseidon is happy because he’s getting vengeance for his other traumatic wall experience.
Book 14: Hera sees Poseidon disobeying Zeus and getting sweet wall vengeance and while probably thinking she married the wrong brother, decides to use Titty Distraction so that the Greeks don’t get chucked on the Trojan barbie. Titty Distraction predictably works A+ and the Trojans get slightly shat on with gratuitous eyeball violence. Hector gets hit by a rock and almost has the most anticlimactic death since Amycus, who suffered death by Elbow Punch.
Book 15: Zeus wakes, calls Hera a scurvy knave and tells Poseidon to Fight Him. Poseidon does not want to Fight Him, so melts back into the ocean and stops helping the Greeks. Apollo resurrects Hector from his rock to the face and the Trojans joyously return to their mission to barbeque the Greek ships.
Book 16: Honeyboo Patroklus (still on his way to Achilles since Book 11) sees Apollo and his Brojans on the warpath and breaks Achilles’ heart with Man Tears. While Achilles and Patbroklus have a very, very long, heartfelt conversation, the Trojans start to toast the Greek ships. Achilles gives (yes gives) Patroklus his armour and tells him to fuck shit up, but not to win without him. Fighting commences, we discover the word hurly-burly, Sarpedon dies in a shower of Zeus-induced blood rain and Patroklus becomes Diomedes 2.0 until he is gang bashed by Hector, Apollo, a literal god, and some awkward random called Euphorbus. Sasstroklus delivers a final fuck you, pulls the finger at all three of his killers and blazes it down to Hades.
Book 17: Hector takes Achilles’ armour off Patroklus, marking him as target #1 for the Sulk King. The Trojans and the Greeks spend an entire chapter having a tug of war with Patroklus’ body. Ajax and Menelaus comment mildly on how Zeus is helping out the Trojans, and the god shines a bit of sunlight in chagrin for being called out. The Greeks win the tug of war thanks to Double Ajax Tactics.
Book 18: In which Achilles goes nuts. Everybody has a cry because Patroklus was a Swell Guy (seriously,as swell as a Hawaiian surf that guy). Achilles goes and therapy-screams at the Trojans, who see the mad bloke and back the fuck off - rightfully so, as Achilles is planning some good old human sacrifice to his dead ‘rider’ Patroklus. Meanwhile, Hephaestus quick-smelts some smashing new armour for Achilles with his household robots.
Book 19: Achilles gets dolled up for battle. Agadickbutt and Odysseus try to placate the madman with gifts, including Briseis, the dame Agamemnope stole from Achilles, but Achilles’ quota of fucks has run out indefinitely. He saddles up and gets ready to fuck up his bae killer.
Book 20: Zeus
R͡ELE҉ASE͜S̵ ͝T̀H͜E͡ ́ǴO̷D͞S͝
and lets them play for whichever team they like, so long as Achilles doesn’t sack Troy just quite yet. It’s probably a friendly game similar to football in god terms. Athena invents the spear boomerang, Hera and Poseidon do some casual sunbathing, while Achilles paints the town red rather literally.
Book 21: Achilles finds men too weak and decides to take on a literal river (Scamander). Achilles realizes this was
A̴ B̸ad ̶I͜de͟a͡
and decides he’ll stick to men. We’re not sure whether Diomedes would have backed off from a river, but I guess we’ll never know. Apollo saves a dude called Agenor from Achilles molestation and in doing so also saves the Brojans. The epic story continues.
Book 22: Apollo says surprise Achilles, tricked ya into chasing me boi, I’m immortal. Achilles stares him dead in the eye for a full minute then says ‘fuck you’ and rides off back to Troy. Hector decides it’s time for another 1v1, but at the last minute considers that this idea was insane and fuckin legs it. Achilles chases Hector around the wall of Troy three times presumably to this soundtrack. Hector finally stops to fight, and thanks to the Athena Spear Boomerangᵀᴹ, Achilles avenges his Patroklus. Hector performs the minor miracle of talking whilst having a spear sticking out of his throat before he dies, then Troy’s hero gets roadhauled and everyone is Sad.
Book 23: Ghost Patroklus pays Achilles a visit, like a sexy Obi wan Kenobi and tells Achilles to bury him already. Patghostklus also beseeches that their bones be laid (ha) together when Achilles inevitably gets fucked on by Fate. Achilles says of course bby I was gonna do that anyway, and tries to make out with a ghost, but this isn’t a Whoopi Goldberg type deal, so Patroghost gets sent back down under. They put the fun in funeral by having games and giving out toasters and such as prizes.
Book 24 (The End): After ‘yearning after the might and manfulness of Patroklus’, Achilles continues to roadhaul Hector until Apollo gives his fam a spray about the dishonour of it. Hera says he’s only mortal scum so who gives a fuck and Zeus says chill wife and commands Achilles to
RE̵L͘E̡A̷S͢E ̴T́HȨ H̀ȨC̕T̵O̷R͡
(sorry I can’t help it). With Hermes as a bodyguard, Priam (Hector’s dad) goes to get the body back. Achilles and Priam have a man-cry bonding moment over Dead Loved Ones, Hector is whisked off to be buried and there ends the Iliad! There’s none of the ankle-shooting, wooden-horse-building shenanigans in there, they all come in later texts such as the Aeneid and Ovid, although I still can’t find the exact text where Achilles gets shot. If y’all know, send me the link ;) I fucking found it nvm
Anyhoo, that was…Jeez, that was The Iliad (aka the longest post in existence). Well, my retold, abridged more slightly less serious version.It’s definitely worth a read, if you can get past all the names!
Achilles/Patroclus. When Patroclus, the clumsy son of a disappointed father, is exiled to Phthia for fostering, he feels totally justified in his dislike for the king’s son. After all, who could possibly tolerate someone so arrogant, so narcissistic, and so wholly and completely everything that he wants to be?
Pat never bothers to call himself special; He’s borderline at schoolwork and may be outstanding at biology, but his life is dull in comparison with a boy that keeps popping up in his life, the much admired and arrogant Achilles. Pat would ignore him if it weren’t for the weird feeling of déjà vus and the random words popping into his head whenever they cross paths, and he’s beginning to think there might be more to this than he first thought.
(Patrochilles Reincarnation AU, where Achilles and Pat are allowed to keep their names and appearances in exchange for their memories on earth. At least, that was the plan).
Achilles, son of Thetis, was sent on a supply run when he met Patroclus. While feeling like he has just found his missing piece, he finds that dating a mortal isn’t as simple as he first thought it would be.
“Aren’t you gonna ask for my name?” Achilles teased, gesturing to the cup.Pat shrugged and gestured to the empty cafe. “Don’t need to.”“In that case, can I ask for yours?” Coffee shop/modern au. In which Pat is a barista and Achilles is an up-and-coming indie pop singer.
There’s a light in him. A molten skyline with soft edges and lazy thrown half-shades, that reflects like the blaze of fire on water. Pure, unbridled gasoline that pumps through his veins and pushes him - pushes pushes pushes - towards a larger goal, to something glorious, magnificent, real.
Sometimes he wakes in darkness that threatens to swallow him whole.
Sometimes he wakes in golden sunlight that catches in the little droplets of sweat on his front.
He’s not entirely sure which one is better.
He sorts his life in cycles and ages, and not in days or years like all the other do.
Patroclus is ten when Hector teases him about his olive skin and throws his gym clothes in a puddle of mud and rainwater.
Patroclus is thirteen when Apollo thinks he can beat the crap out of him.
(But Patroclus is fast, you see, and he runs and runs and runs until Apollo bends over and gasps for air like a fish on land.)
Patroclus is fourteen when he realizes he’s not like the other boys, because girls with bare legs and creamy skin or full, luscious lips do nothing for him.
Patroclus is seventeen when the sun blinds him and golden rays catch in the thick mess of curls of a young man; he meets Achilles.
It’s not until then, that his life finally starts.
Achilles always does.
Achilles runs if he’s angry. Achilles runs if he’s happy. And Achilles runs if he’s nearly collapsing from the weight on his shoulders.
So, Achilles runs.
And Patroclus watches him.
He watches him, because he loves the way the sun plays with Achilles‘ hair, or the way his face lightens up in the gold.
He loves him.
Tomorrow, Patroclus thinks and rests silent. I’ll tell him tomorrow.
Would you -
the boy breathes against his lips.
Legs intertwined, heat rising between them, fingers pressing in the hollows under his chin -
Yes, he answers, I would.
One day, he steals Hector’s aviators.
The boy can deal.
They look better on Patroclus anyway.
Demeter’s Diner is green and warm, with a ton of tropical flowers standing all around; a palm in the corner, golden Musas on the table, Hibiscus hanging in gaudy pink on the wooden counter. The wood and straw remind him often enough of a Haitian tiki bar. Patroclus loves it - three days a week he works Persephone’s shift so the girl can have some time off.
Achilles visits him every shift. He drinks a soda and talks when no customers are around. Sometimes he eats a Blueberry muffin and Patroclus observes, fascinated by how little crumbs of pastry stick to the corner of his mouth. The moment goes on, Patroclus eyes transfixed on Achilles‘ mouth - Achilles licks his lips.
Tomorrow, Patroclus thinks again and rips his eyes away, busies himself cleaning the counter with an old blue rag. I’ll tell him tomorrow.
He wants Achilles like he wants a punch in the mouth.
Like blood sweeping between his teeth and lips.
He wants to watch Achilles unravel, like a mess of guts churned together and being pulled apart one by one.
He wants Achilles.
But the risk asking Achilles if he wants him too is simply too high.
I would, Patroclus says.
You would what? -
Confusion. Hope. Fingertips painful around his throat.
I’d do anything, Patroclus answers again.
Hector corners him after his last history period.
Patroclus’ back hits the cold surface of the old school building and the rough masonry scratches through the thin cotton shirt he wears. The sun radiates its unyielding shine from the sky and dips the schoolyard in a sea of rich gold.
Achilles, he thinks and closes his eyes against the warm breeze.
Achilles, he thinks again when Hector’s fist meets his jaw.
One tent’s enough, I hope? I’ve heard that you prefer to share. Rooms and bedrolls both, they say.
That’s disgusting. And wrong. I don’t even get– why would– I’ve never had sex with anyone, anywhere. It’s none of your- you have- the nerve, the audacity, Achilles is my boss, technically. And he is terrible, face-wise. And how- how- do I know, frankly, that you’re not sleeping with him? Maybe you are. Maybe you’re trying to throw me off? Hmm check and mate.
Ok, so, for your own sake, don’t think about Achilles.
Don’t think about Achilles arriving in the afterlife, jumping from Charon’s skiff before’ it’s even hit the beach, looking around in expectation.
Don’t think about Achilles, still filled with determination, moving, almost running through the crowd of souls in the plains of Elysium, looking for the one face he’s been longing for.
Whatever you do, don’t think about when he slows, when he starts calling Patroclus’ name, worried, angry, panicked, over and over until his voice is raw.
Don’t think about when he realizes that Patroclus isn’t there. That his soul must still be on earth, a world away yet again. Don’t think about his legs giving out, his cries, the way he pulls his hair and throws off the armour he no longer needs.
Don’t think about how he curls up, face and hands pressed against the cold, dark earth of the underground, cursing his fate. Cursing the world.
Don’t think about how he cries, like he cried before he died, without hope of ever stopping.
Don’t think about Achilles, desperate, making his way from Macaria, the goddess of burials, to Melinoë, the goddess of ghosts and lost souls, all the way to Hades, lord of the dead, and Persephone, Goddess of the earth, begging them all to bring his love to the realm of the dead where he belongs. Don’t think about them all turning him down, unable to do ask he asks, bound by the rules that govern the world.
Whatever you do, don’t think about Achilles sitting by the river Styx, staring into the dark, clinging to the small hope that Patroclus might come on the next boat.
Don’t think about Hector finding him there. Don’t think about Hector, stripped of the power and privilege, of the hurt and anger that life holds, sitting down next to the man that killed him, and offering his apology for having done this to him.
Don’t think about Achilles, tired, worn and grieving Achilles, apologizing in turn for the way he acted after Hector’s defeat.
Do not think about Hector’s hand on Achilles’ shoulder as they sit together, looking at the water, Hector figuring that Achilles did spare him, giving him ten more years of his life than he really ought to have had, whether intentional or not.
Don’t think about Achilles, alone once Hector has left him again, staring at the water, knowing a single drop on his lips will take the pain away, will drive all memories of his life from him, including the ones of Patroclus.
Do not think of how he cries, still and quiet this time, on the barren shore, finding he can not do it, for to lose his memories is to lose all he has left of him.
Instead, think of the day that the boat comes across the water, for the thousandth time since Achilles arrived, yet this time it is different.
Because there is a light on the boat, small and flickering like a candle in a storm, but it is there.
Do think of how Achilles calls his name long before he can actually see his face. Of how Patroclus calls back. Of how he jumps before the skiff touches the sand, into Achilles’ waiting arms, embracing him like he never intends to let go.
Think of how the underworld that seemed dark, cold and barren to Achilles before is now light, and warmth, and joy.
Think of how they are still there, together, until the end of eternity.