Wavering Love

Chapter 8: Father of Mine

The sound of the ocean pounding against the shore on the beach gave Patroclus such a sad feeling, like he's listening to the very heart of loneliness. The image of crying Achilles shouting at him replayed in his mind over and over again. It was suicide for him to think of it but it always came back automatically. It might have been hours or even seconds since Achilles last left him of the beach declaring his feelings to Partoclus. Nothing. Achilles felt nothing to Patroclus and probably was willing to sleep with anything that crept in his room at the time. Even a young boy like himself.

But what did Patroclus feel? He couldn't explain; he didn't take the time to even think it over. Words couldn't describe this state of pain he was feeling right now. No wound or disappointment ever matched the torn rip in Patroclus' heart. It would be like stuffing the world into a thimble to put all this emotions he was feeling in words.

When the touch of the atmosphere finally hit him he fled to the house, knowing Achilles wasn't there. He wanted to run into something, a bed, a corner, even a wall; anything that would stop his legs from moving because he couldn't control them. He didn't want to stop. Patroclus wanted to get as far away from that cruel site as possible.

Hoping it would be Thetis' arms he would run into he went into the kitchen, knowing if she was awake she would be there. To his luck she even closer out by the gardens.

"Partoclus?" Without listening to what else she was going to say after he dove into her arms, hiding his wet face into the crook of her neck. By the habit of a mother she did without haste, wrapped her arms around and held him tight, entrapping him from the world.

Patroclus dropped his shaking hands and felt the hot tears sliding down his cheeks. He could not speak. Thetis nodded and held the trembling boy in her arms. "My golden one, what has happened?" she whispered, patting his back. He didn't answer and soon his sobs quieted to a stop. Thetis cleared his eyes from the remains of his tears.

"Come my boy. Someone is waiting to meet you. He's been waiting for a long time to see you again." Patroclus' mind now filled with new questions. I know no one that knew me for so long to live past winter. Who could it be? Why is he waiting for such a long time?

Thetis led Patroclus into the kitchen. Inside weren't just the ordinary cutting tables, fruit, grain, and hanging plants and flowers for spices and herbs. Another man sat on a sack of grain in the corner. He seemed to have been deep in thought, because when the pair entered he quickly lifted his head from his hands in an immediate position.

He wore splendid robes of royal purple dye. Everything about him dripped with mighty wealth from his appearance to his aroma. Patroclus was in more of a shock to know that this kind of man was waiting to meet with him. He never talked to anyone so rich in his life before much less knew one.

"Patroclus this is Menoetius, king of Opus in Locris." Thetis said. The old man stood up, now showing his strong built much like Patroclus, yet the boy wasn't as nearly as dark as this king.

"Hello Patroclus." The king answered. He held out his hand to meet with Patroclus'. He hesitated before gripping the man's hand. Question still glowed in the boy's eyes. After all he had been through this morning; he didn't have the energy to be polite and welcoming.

"You look so much like her." His eyes glowed with admiration when the king said 'her'. Now Patroclus was not only puzzled but shaken up that he resembled so much of this women the king spoke of.

"What?" Patroclus answered. A threatening tone hung in his words which began to worry Thetis. She didn't know why yet, but Patroclus wasn't in the mood to talk right now. Much less then see this important person.

"Um Patroclus" she began to retrieve the calm self of the boy. "This king had a wife."

"So! All men have wives!" Patroclus' patience was limiting by the second.

"His wife somehow fled because she was threatened by another general. Today that general is dead, but so is this wife of his. With her, she also ran away with a child. A boy." Her words began to piece together a story that needed no ending for Patroclus. "That boy now stands here today Patroclus...It is you." Her tone was quiet and still.

He had to replay all of her words over again in his memory to know what she meant. This was his father! And not some beggar he thought of but a king!! Why didn't mother tell me of him?! Why didn't he come after us and save us from the poverty hell we were in!!? Why didn't he save her from the cold winter if he really loved her? Did he mourn her death when he heard of it?

"Patroclus." His father finally spoke to him. "I've been at all ends of the kingdom for you and your mother. Soon all said to give up my search and assumed you two were dead. It was my mistake to have finally believed them."

He knew he was losing Patroclus when the boy lost contact with his eyes to the floor. "Partoclus?" he claimed his son's hand for attention. "I am here to finally take you back. To your home! Wouldn't you like that? We could at last catch up with each other from all the time that was stolen from us."

The king's words were tranquil and peaceful. Soothing Patroclus' once hectic mind. Now staring down his hand that was enveloped by the king's hand he already decided his choice to the unspoken question he was about to receive.

I would fall in love with you if you just review on how this chapter was. I think it is a bit rushed but I really want to make this story complete before a certain time. Thank you very much!