Summary: Achilles' heel is not his only weakness. A crossover between Troy and Second Age Middle Earth. Focal characters are Patroclus, Achilles and Gil-galad, but it also includes many others from the movie.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing, much to my perpetual dismay.

Author's Note: Okay, so I had originally planned on waiting about 4 or 5 days in between updates, but last night it occurred to me that if I update every other day, the final chapter will be posted right on Christmas day. So that, my friends, is now the official plan for regular updates, and I trust it won't disappoint. Also to thank for this new approach are my good friends Tori and Kat Carbines who both insisted within a couple minutes of each other that I "must update this very minute!" My sincerest thanks as well to Karategal, Blackeri, Lieyan, and Tori for their incredibly prompt reviews, even after this fic had been in a serious slump! I am deeply honored by all your encouraging responses! Now, I realize that this is probably the shortest chapter in the entire fic, but it is centered entirely around the sweet reunion that we've all been waiting for since chapter 8. So enjoy it, savor it, and I'll see you all again in a mere two days!

Chapter 26

"Cousin?"

Looking back, Achilles would never know how he had heard that one softly spoken word amidst the dying chaos of the battlefield; but it was undoubtedly the sweetest sound he had ever heard in all his life. He turned at once and beheld his young cousin, alive and seemingly well, standing at the crest of a low hill not far from them.

"Patroclus!"

Elves and even Odysseus forgotten, the great warrior sprinted off toward his kinsman as fast as his runner's legs could carry him. Patroclus, on his part, didn't move a muscle; but his legs must have given out on him at the shock, for he dropped to his knees as though in a daze, wide unblinking eyes never leaving his cousin. Achilles was down on the ground with him the instant they were near enough to touch, and he at once pulled the youth into a crushing embrace.

"Oh gods, Patroclus! Patroclus…"

But Patrolcus did not respond right away, only clung to his cousin as though he would be swept away if he let go and buried his face in the strong, familiar shoulder he had thought never to feel again. Tears leaked from his clear blue eyes and fell onto the older man's tunic, but neither of them took any notice of it.

At long last, Achilles drew back and held his cousin at arm's length, pushing the boy's sandy blonde hair away from his face and laying a gentle kiss on his forehead. He then leaned forward with a deep sigh, heavily resting his own forehead against the boy's. It seemed like an eternity had passed, but they were finally reunited once more.

At length, their heads lifted, but Patroclus seemed inexplicably loath to meet his elder's concerned and caring gaze.

"I'm sorry, cousin," he whispered finally, and Achilles' brow immediately furrowed in a puzzled frown.

"What do you mean?"

"Those things I said to you that night – it was not my place, and I had no right to say them. Forgive me, cousin, I…I'm sorry." The boy's halting apology had come out in a rush, and when he had finished, his head hung low in unabated contrition.

And when Achilles at last realized what his cousin meant, that he was referring to the argument they'd had their last night together, the words stung him more deeply than any wound he had ever received in battle. That night seemed so long ago, he had all but forgotten it.

"Look at me, Patrolcus," he demanded slowly. "Look at me!"

The youth raised his eyes, half dreading the angry reprimand he felt would surely follow; but all he beheld in his cousin's face was warm love and a concern so deep it appeared almost painful.

"Patroclus, do you truly believe that I'm still thinking about that now? Cousin, what happened before is of no matter. What matters is that we're here – together!"

But Patroclus did not seem overly consoled, and his eyes still bore a look of confused hurt and betrayal.

"Then why didn't you come for me?" he whispered, almost afraid of what the long-awaited answer might be. "Why are you here now, when you should have come for me back in Troy?"

Achilles closed his eyes with a low groan and grasped his cousin's slender shoulders. He had known it would only be a matter of time before all of this would need to be confronted.

"Patroclus, I didn't know," he explained in earnest. "The Trojans attacked us that same night you were captured. Your tent was destroyed in their fires, so I never saw Gil-galad's ransom note. I thought you were dead, cousin. But had I known, I would have gladly done all that he asked and more – believe me!"

The grip on his shoulder squeezed tighter, and Patrolcus felt his tears returning as he realized in a moment of precious hope that it had all been a terrible mistake. He let the salty drops run unashamedly down his cheeks and gladly melted into Achilles' embrace when the older man again pulled him close. Greece or Lindon – the place did not matter now that he had his cousin's sheltering arms around him once more. And there he felt his beloved guardian's heartbeat, as strong and steady as ever. As were his promises.

"I missed you, cousin," he finally mumbled into the warrior's shoulder.

Achilles' grip on him tightened noticeably. "I know," he responded simply; but for his own part, he had more than just missed Patroclus over the past weeks. More than anything, their time apart had revealed to him just how desperately he needed this boy – far more than Patroclus would ever know.

"How did you know I was here?" the youth inquired as they broke apart, and Achilles answered him.

"Hector told me when we took Troy. He explained everything."

Comprehension slowly dawned on the boy. "Troy is fallen, then?"

A wordless nod answered.

"And you killed him?" he questioned further with a worried frown.

"Who? Hector?" Achilles shook his head. "No, cousin. I let him go when I realized what had truly happened – that you were still alive. He and his family escaped with a small remnant of other Trojans, and then Odysseus and I came here in search of you."

The youth grinned. "I'm glad you found me."

"As am I." Achilles returned the smile and then began a fastidious appraisal of his charge's condition.

"Are you all right?" he asked, and Patroclus was in the midst of nodding an affirmative just as Achilles discovered the blood on his left arm.

"You're hurt!" he exclaimed, his anxiety resurfacing in an instant, but the boy sought at once to allay his fears.

"It's not bad, cousin," he insisted, wincing a little when Achilles tried to peel back the fabric and armor for a better look at the long gash. "It's not that deep – really."

The elder warrior continued his examination of the wound, though, until he was fully satisfied that it was nothing potentially fatal.

"You're right," he grudgingly conceded, then added after a brief pause, "So tell me, cousin – how does it feel to be one of the Myrmidons now?"

A spark of sheer excitement lit up the boy's blue eyes like a shot of electricity.

"Really?" he asked, ecstasy and disbelief both struggling for foremost expression in his countenance.

Achilles smiled with obvious pride for his young protégé. "Cousin, this blood may not have been shed for me personally, but I could never have asked for a greater display of valor from any of my men. In this battle, you have earned your place among them, and earned it well."

A wide grin consumed Patroclus' youthful face then, but Achilles knew his charge too well to miss the lines of exhaustion that edged those azure orbs.

"You look tired," he commented, and the youth responded with a weak smile.

"I am."

"Come on, then," Achilles said quietly. "Let's go back and get this wound cleaned up properly."

"We will need to check for poison, as well," a voice spoke from behind them. "I'm afraid it is always a danger here."

The cousins turned their heads as one to see Gil-galad standing very near to them now, and Patroclus nodded in compliance. Achilles rose to his feet, gently pulling his cousin up with him; and together with Cirdan, Elrond, and Odysseus, they made their way back to the Havens.