TSOA Week - Prompt - DAY 3: ESCAPE
Assume Achilles and Patroclus did not go to Troy. How would they spend the rest of their lives? Remember, neither would gain any fame by choosing not to go to war.
Achilles decides that he does not need fame so long as he has Patroclus, and Patroclus does not care for the oath he swore to defend Helen. They escape the war and live out the rest of their lives together. Other men gain fame. How do they spend the rest of their lives? Where would they live? Would Achilles eventually become King of Phthia? What about Patroclus?
Because You're the Reason
Maybe it was the Gods' curse for abandoning his oath, but sometimes, Patroclus would dream of a life upon the shores of Troy. Nothing more than brief flashes, he saw many things- Achilles, limbs singing as he cut down man after man; a dark-skinned woman with her hands bound, a bruise unfurling on her cheek; his own hands drenched in red as the worked at an arrow lodged in a boy's shoulder. A life far away from his own in Phthia.
Tonight was one of the worse nights. He'd seen dead green eyes in the place of bright mischief, curls that should shine like gold, limp and flat. Hands that clutched at a sagging corpse. A burning pyre.
A figure falling to the ground, his lips curved into a smile.
Patroclus jolted awake, eyes snapping open as he sat up, chest heaving. It took him a minute, but he finally managed to calm his heart rate down so it didn't feel as if his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. He cast a glance around the room, moonlight seeping in through the edges of the window. He's safe, he thought to himself, breathing heavily, He's safe in Phthia.
Turning his head, Patroclus drank in the sight of him as Achilles stirred, his sleepy eyes –still bright, thank the Gods- blinking awake as he struggled to focus, "Patroclus?"
He stayed silent as the man propped himself up on one arm, scrunching his nose as he woke. He could see Achilles' eyebrows knit in concern, yet he could not bring himself to open his mouth, unwilling to break the silence. He forced the image of the fallen Achilles out of his mind, eyes locked on the one before him. Lifting shaking hands, Patroclus pressed them against Achilles' bare chest, inwardly sighing in relief as he felt the steady th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.
Alive, alive, alive.
"Do you regret it?" Patroclus looked up, green eyes already trained on him, "Not going to Troy?"
Achilles was quiet, still as he thought. Patroclus took in the vibrant green of his eyes, blonde curls turned to silver under the moonlight. He was the same yet different from the man in Patroclus' dreams; less of the battle-hardened warrior who was all angles and sharp edges.
"It would have been meaningless," His voice rang with sincerity, and Patroclus remembered, he was not the only one plagued by the curse of escaping his fate, "Without you,"
"You would have been a hero," Patroclus continued, unsure, "Your name remembered for centuries to come,"
A smile tugged at the corner of Achilles' mouth and Patroclus could almost see the boy he'd been on Mount Pelion, "Name one hero who was happy,"
At this, Patroclus grew silent once again, startled when he felt the palm press warm against his cheek.
"You're the reason,"
