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When he and Machon had deemed his love strong enough, a celebration was held in honor of their child’s safe delivery and health. His men offered his husband and child well wishes and blessings. Patroclus had forced him to invite a few of the other kings and princes, he hated to have such a joyous event marred by those men.
“It will be a snub, and it would not serve our reputation well after the king’s generous hospitality,” he had told him with Alexander resting on his chest. He could never deny his request especially with their son at his breast.
Agamemnon and his brother, Menelaus had offered their congratulations. Agamemnon had again gifted his husband and son another chest filled to the brim with gold. Surprisingly, Menelaus kept his eyes off his husband. He gifted them a chest filled with silk and cotton.
“May this baby have a good life,” Odysseus uttered setting down his own chest, it was smaller, this one his love did not open. Patroclus inclined his head towards him, how graceful he was.
“I pray for your health,” Odysseus continued before he rose to join the others at the table. Patroclus gave him a small smile and Alexander wiggled in his arms.
His love was radiantly dressed in white with both his wrists and forehead gleaming in gold. Their son was cradled securely in his arms, a scarlet blanket trimmed in gold surrounding him. His tiny hand reached up from the blanket, his husband played with the tiny fingers. The look of pure adoration had his heart overflowing, Gods he loved them.
It was nearly time, he nodded to Automedon who knelt at Patroclus’ side gently taking the baby into his arms. Once the baby was cradled securely in his arms, Patroclus joined at his side. Together, they held the golden bowl steady as the animal cried out. Thick crimson fell into it, the priest offered prayers and chants. The rest of the animal was butchered for the Gods. He and his love both washed their hands and Patroclus reclaimed their child in his arms.
With the Gods appeased, the ceremony could continue. Achilles held his arms out for the babe and his love passed him to him. He circled the hearth with his husband at his back, Automedon and Phoinix. A small mimicry of his family, he wished his father could have seen his grandchild. Once this had been done several times, he passed his son to his lover who inspected their son. Deeming him well passed him to Automedon who did the same, and finally Phoinix.
The older man placed his son back into his waiting arms.
Achilles turned to address their guests, “ I present and dedicate my son, Alexander before the Gods and you all.” The crowd began to cheer his men were the loudest, and he glanced down at his son who didn't cry in the slightest. Alex merely blinked up at him, such a good babe he was. Perhaps he was so quiet because his mother had fed him well before.
“I invite you all to drink and be merry on such a joyous occasion,” his men responded
“Prince Alexander, the son of Aristo Archaion. May the Gods bless him well.” He held their son up and let their warriors catch a glimpse of him. They were fascinated with his golden hair and his rosy cheeks. It seemed Aphrodite’s blessing had taken effect. Patroclus sent him a small smile from their table, but it seemed forced. What was the matter of why he displeased? Alex’s face crumpled up, oh Hera now he wanted to cry. He didn’t want to test his babe’s patience and settled him back into his lover’s arms.
Patroclus sent him another smile, but this time it was free of strain. Ah, so he was anxious about their child being away from him.
“Cousin,” he turned towards Ajax over at the other tables. He glanced back at his lover who waved him off.
“Pat-ro-clus,” Briseis called from behind his love before even she was spellbound by his son.
“So pretty,” she told him settling next to him for a better look, and Patroclus responded to her in her language. How did lover learn the Trojans’ harsh language so quickly?
“Cousin,” Ajax called for him again and he glanced at his lover and her playing with and cooing at Alex. That horrible feeling was back again, but he pushed it down. There was no reason to be jealous.
“We’ll be fine, go and enjoy with our men,” Patroclus said.
“I don’t want to, I want to stay here with you two,” he pouted and Patroclus laughed before pulling him down to place a kiss on his cheek. A few men heckled them.
“Go on, I have him,” Patroclus sent him another pretty smile before leaning over to coo at Alex.
He cast another longing glance over to his husband and child. He hated how the older man had called him away from his husband and baby.
“Oh come now cousin don’t make such a sour face, this is a joyous occasion. Your lover bore you a handsome and healthy son,” Ajax slugged an arm around him, “ You should give him rest before he gives you another.” The audacity of him. He knew very well it would be a while before they would sleep together again.
“He just gave birth to my son but ten days ago, don’t speak of such filth again,” he removed his arm from his shoulder. Ajax snorted.
“Oh, so you’re patiently waiting until he is recovered enough. Didn’t you hear of the latest bet, dearest cousin?” passing him a cup. The others at the table were too concerned with drinking, playing dice, or telling of their heroics to pay attention to them.
“What bet?” he was curious now. He prayed it was not apart of the hateful rumors about his husband.
“The bet,” Ajax told him flippantly refilling his cup, “ that you will have him fat with child again by the end of the year.” It took everything he had to kept his jaw from dropping.
By all the Gods, did everyone truly think him so lustful? Patroclus was barely two weeks out of the birthing bed, he would never.
“I nearly lost them both, I would never put him through that again. I’m satisfied with the one he bore me,” he snarled.
“Little cousin you say such things, but you fucked him throughout his pregnancy. It is well documented how you had him wailing, which is why rumors sprung up,” he flushed that was true.
Ajax smirked from behind his cup, “I told you to have your fun before your son came, but I didn’t mean that much fun.” Bastard, he had just reminded him of his earlier words about his husband. Why stop at his teeth when he could have his filthy tongue too.
“Control your tongue or I will cut it out for you,” he hissed getting up close with his person. To any outsider, it appeared a harmless discussion.
Ajax merely laughed, “I’m simply speaking the truth, dearest cousin.” That was enough of that, his fist was clenched at the ready. When he heard it, Patroclus’ lovely laughter. Briseis and a few of the other girls had gathered around him for a glimpse at the baby. Instantly his fist loosened and he dropped Ajax’s clutched tunic from his hand.
Ajax observed his cousin, so his husband had such an effect on him. He thought it funny how his demigod cousin could be so bold and cruel with others, yet behave so human and tender when it came to his Patroclus. It was no wonder he did not wish to put another child on him. Patroclus was the very last string of his human nature, Gods help them all if he lost that.
“Go and be with him if you miss him so, little Achilles,” he patted his cousin’s shoulder before going off to join Teucer and Tecmessa further down the table. She was going to bear his son in as little as six months, Prince Alexander and his son would hopefully grow to be close playmates.
He wished them all the best.Patroclus was overwhelmed with the number of people, who wished to see him and his baby. Brieses and more girls huddled close to him to see Alexander, curiously his son hadn’t cried once throughout the ceremony and the crowding. It would be only a matter of time before he became cranky.
“Greetings, Prince Patroclus,” oh Gods above not him again. Patroclus schooled his face into a more neutral expression, before facing King Menelaus.
“Your highness,” he returned hoping that would be the end of him. Instead, the King of Sparta made himself comfortable next to him, he sent Bries a subtle glance to have girls dismissed.
The House of Atreus was well known for their sexual appetites. Even if he had taken Diomedes for a lover, he didn’t trust him.
When they didn’t move, he whispered in their language, “He is dangerous, please go and enjoy the celebration. I’ll be fine, he is not after me because of my husband.” A few gave him a wary look but followed Briseis as she directed them back to the safety of their warriors. They all knew not to touch the girls, due to Achilles’ name.
“You speak their language, your highness,” Menelaus asked when the girls had settled away from them at the other tables.
“I picked it up, in my confinement. My husband allowed me to do little and I was quite bored,” he responded bored, the way he hinted at his lover’s role was no accident. Where was Achilles? He scanned Ajax’s table but didn’t see him. Patroclus saw Ajax was sitting with his brother, and who he assumed was his concubine. She was very pretty.
“Since you speak their language would you like to lead the next attempt for peace with the Trojans? ” the king ventured tentatively. That was quite unexpected, but he had a feeling the king was not just here to speak of such things. Alexander wiggled in his arms, but he didn’t fuss or cry, yet.
“King Menelaus, if you have something you wish to ask, please speak freely,” he was tried and his son was about to start crying because he was hungry, wet, sleepy, or all three.
“Was pregnancy taxing on you?” was the first thing the king blurted out. He blinked.
Patroclus had to think for a moment, it had been very taxing on him. Morning sickness, how his feet, back, and chest hurt at times, how little he had slept, his sometimes shallow breathing, his son’s powerful kicks left him gasping. How hard and terrifying labor had been, but it had been worth it to have his sweet baby in his arms.
Fighting to keep a blush from his face, it had also been very pleasurable at times. He and Achilles barely kept their hands off each other, Gods he couldn’t get enough of him. His lust had gotten so destructive, it had once left Achilles with a nosebleed afterward. And all the various scratches and bite marks he often left on him. His lover had laughed and was light-hearted about it, but he felt awful thinking about it.
“Your highness?” the king called for him again.
“Ah excuse me, I’m a bit tired,” he smiled, down at Alexander whose little features scrunched up. He had to hurry before he started his wailing.
“To answer your question, your highness. It was quite taxing, but I would not trade my son for anything in the world,” he told him rising, “Please excuse me, your highness, I must retire my son is about to make his displeasure known.” The king nodded, and he bowed as much the babe in his arms would allow.
Back in their tent he undid his bandages and held him at his chest, Alex only blinked up at him.
“Aren’t you hungry?” he questioned and his baby blinked again before he yawned, closing his eyes. Patroclus wanted to laugh, his son was so mischievous already. He nearly threw a fit to give him a chance to escape Menelaus. Smoothing the wisps of blond hair from his face and kissed his tiny forehead.
“Goodnight, my little love,” he whispered, settling him into his cradle, and he didn’t stir. His baby would probably wake him in the middle of the night for a meal, but he didn’t mind.

He undressed for bed and wondered where Achilles was but was too sleepy to question it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Achilles was going back to his husband and child when he felt it. His mother was calling for him. His lips curled, now she wished to speak with him. On the night of his son’s naming. He glanced over to his family. Patroclus and his son were well protected here with his guards and handmaidens. He was surrounded by witnesses, no harm would come to them. Achilles would go to her, this would be the final time he would see her. He had expected to meet her near the sea, but she appeared before him in the forest.
“Hello, my son,” she greeted. Achilles did not to return her greeting.
He continued to walk past her, where was he going he didn’t know. Anywhere away from her.
“Achilles,” she called to him again. He would not look at her, all the harm and evil she had done.
“What could you possibly have to say to me, mother. Haven’t you done enough? I know what you did.” Achilles was tired, just tired of all of this. Tired of her and her constant scheming. Just tired.
“Mother, do you love me at all?” he asked her. Turning towards her, twin tracks of tears fell. She had not once seen Achilles cry since he was a child.
Thetis was startled, how could he even think such a thing. She loved him more than anything. Achilles was the only good thing, she had left in her long immortal life. Her golden son, her perfect child. Soon nothing would stop him from being immortal with her.
“You are my entire world, my most beloved child. I would do anything for you,” she reached for his face. His tears dripped down his face, she thumbed them away. Her baby, her sweetest son.
“If you love me so, why have you treated me so cruelly,” his tears came even faster now, “Why mother?” she held him at her bosom. Oh, my son. He could not even remember a time, he had ever been held by his mother. She even smoothed his curls, but her embrace was as cold as her heart.
“ I love you, Achilles. I never meant for you to see my actions as cruel, everything I have done has been for your sake,” he yanked himself away from her.
“No, mother that is not true. You don’t love or care for me because if you did you would have never done those things. I begged you not to do them, but you did them anyway,” he wiped at his face. How pathetic, he wasn’t a child anymore. He was far too old for this, no longer did he need her. Shouldn't long for her comfort, comfort she had never sought to give him before.
“ You murdered my child, a child that plagues my thoughts still. How you ripped his life away, and how he nearly took my beloved with him. You kidnapped me in the middle of the night to dress me as a girl. How each day, I lived in agony away from him. How I trusted you and you deceived me. You married me to that spoiled princess knowing I belonged to another,” he snapped, listing out all her sins and transgressions.
“I pleaded with you not to force me to lie with her, yet you did anyway. I hated it so much mother, why would you allow her to do that to me. I lied to Patroclus telling him it was only twice, but it was far more than that. She would come to me at night and straddle me, I hated it. I hated it.” His tears started afresh, his distress was hers as well.
“Achilles, my son I’m sorry, I didn’t know she did such a horrible thing to you. I would have never allowed her to such a thing,” Perhaps, she should have let Patroclus bear her son’s first child. He never would have dared to behave as Deidamia had, dying right after bringing her son’s heir into the world. Deidamia, she was struck with until Pyrrhus was weaned. Her patience grew ever shorter with her, coupled with what she knew now. The little bitch would be lucky if survived the year.
“It doesn’t matter now, what’s done is done,” he shook his head. Achilles moved further and further from her reach. Had she truly driven him away from her with her actions?
“Mother, if you held love for me as you claim you would have respected my wishes to leave Patroclus and my child be. Instead, you made plans behind my back to get him from my side. You prevented his healers from coming to his aid and he nearly bled out after having my child,” he ran his fingers through his hair.Something he always did when he was younger, if something was distressed him. She was distressing him. Thetis gently tugged his fingers free, if he kept going he was going to pull the strands from his head.
“Don’t touch me,” he spat, jerking away from her, “ I never wish to see you again after this. I will not call for you. Nor will I come if you call.” He seemed as if he could not stomach the very sight of her, being in her presence made his skin crawl. That spoke the extent of his hatred for her. It took all of her strength not to fall to her very knees.
“For him, you would banish me your mother,” her own eyes dampened. She still didn’t understand, perhaps she never would. Their problems had started long before Patroclus.
“Yes, Thetis,” she recoiled, he did not even call her mother, “From this day forth, you are no longer a mother, I disown you. A mother is supposed to protect her child and put the interests and comforts of her child over her own. Something foreign to you. You have seen me only as a way to regain your status. You were once my beloved mother, who I loved the most. I didn’t care how the Gods of spoke and slandered your name, I loved you. Wasn’t that enough? How could you betray me as you did?” Each word her son spoke against her was the sharpest dagger to her heart. Her lips parted in response.
“Nevermind, it doesn’t matter now. Don’t come near me or them.”“Goodbye Thetis, I pray you to live well,” her son told her, power leaving his voice. In a fit of desperation, she fell to her knees.
“Please don’t do this, my son. I’m sorry my son, for all the evil and harm I did and caused you to and your family,” her son’s eyes were no longer wet. His gaze was relentless and appeared to look right past her.
“ It is too late for you to say such things. I wish things could have been different. You would have loved him had you gotten the chance to know him. Often I dreamed you would come to love and accept him as much I did, I was naive to think such a thing. Patroclus reminds me of how you were with me when I was younger. How lovely and gentle he is. How wonderful he is with my son,” her son’s voice had started so cold, but towards the end, his voice had softened when he spoke of the mortal. She should have drowned him when she had the chance, but that would have drawn her son even further from her.
“ I hate how you hurt him. By hurting him, you hurt me. All I ever wanted was one thing, him. You could have me do anything and I would have. Had you left him alone and unharmed, but instead chose you to hurt him and my children. I’ll never forgive you for that. I meant what I said I never wish to see you again,” she bowed her head. All he had said held the truth.
“ I swear to never harm him or your child again, please my son don’t do this,” she looked up at him, but his face appeared to be cut from marble. Truly she glimpsed his cruelty, a fraction of her own reflected at her. He didn’t answer her, instead, he walked away from her.She watched him leave until he was a white blur in the distance.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat, she had gambled everything away for nothing. She was to be left with nothing, her son’s love gone. His heart was stolen by his lover and the child he bore him. In preparing for his destiny, she missed the signs of his growing unhappiness. Had she let him have this one thing, he would not have been so unhappy. For the first time in a long time, she wept. The waves rolled with her tears.When he came back from the clearing, he discovered Patroclus had retired with their babe. He was glad for it, the banquet had descended into madness. The music was loud and the laughter rambunctious, some of his men chased a few of Patroclus’ handmaidens around. He nearly stepped in, until he saw the glee on their faces. In due time, Alexander would have other children to play with. Agamemnon and Menelaus were still here. Agamemnon appeared deep in his cups and Diomedes was all but in Menelaus’ lap. They were still trying to keep their relationship a secret, he snorted everyone knew now. If they didn’t already.
He wanted to go and be with his lover and child, but his emotions were unstable at the moment. Patroclus would pick on his grief immediately, and he did not wish to add to his burden. His husband appeared healthy, but he was still weak. Childbirth as he had told him was no easy task, and Achilles swore never to put another child on him. The last two had nearly killed him. He grabbed a cup and sipped at it slowly, he refused to go to them stinking of wine. At least his mother would not harm them any longer. His heart squeezed at his mother’s pain, but she had brought it upon herself.Thetis shakily got to her feet. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Her son had disowned her for what, his whore and bastard. She was his mother, she had birthed him into this world. What made them so special to him that he was willing to discard everything she had worked for. She had to know. Thetis eased into the tent, her footsteps glided soundlessly.Her son’s slut slept on peacefully, he looked the same as he always did. Only now his belly was flat. She would never understand her son’s fascination with him, there was nothing special about him. He held no beauty to him except for his youth. Which would fade, youth always faded first.
Thetis continued to the cradle. Alexander was a threat to Pyrrhus’ inheritance, he had to be dealt with. She gazed down at the sleeping babe and paused. He was a near-perfect copy of Achilles as an infant, from his little golden curls, rosy cheeks, and tiny nose. He was so beautiful, there was nothing of his lowly mother in him.She lightly touched his cheek and the baby stirred and blinking up at her. Oh, he even had her son’s green eyes. So precious, he was. Alexander blinked at her once more before he closed his little eyes again. Patroclus slept on unaware, she picked up the baby. He still didn’t cry. What a quiet baby he was, he didn’t wail and scream as Pyrrhus did.Bringing him closer to her chest, Thetis felt strong divinity in the babe. Impossible. More of her mistakes glared her in the face. He had more value than she had realized. Not only had Patroclus had given birth to a near mirror image of her son, his bloodline was descended from Zeus. All carriers to a degree could trace their lineage to Zeus, but this was a direct line. She had been wrong to let that stupid girl have her son’s child. Her bloodline had been weaker than she anticipated and had diluted her grandchild’s divine blood. Pyrrhus still held some of her son’s divinity, but the rest would have to be supplemented with ambrosia. This child here was nearly a demigod himself. But how?
It was a shame, he had to be born a bastard. There was nothing to be done about it now, she had sealed her son’s marriage herself. To undo it now would prove her son right. She held him a moment longer, before settling the babe back into the cradle, covering him once again. Thetis had come to smother him in his cradle, but he would carry on her son’s legacy. A worthwhile legacy.
“I spare you today, little Alexander. Grow and show me your strength. Show me that you are worthy to be your father’s successor,” she whispered to him, and the baby blinked up at her, “And I will make it so.”
His face scrunched up and she had to leave before his mother woke and found her here.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

They settled into a quiet routine, with Alexander. Achilles kissed his forehead, pressing a tiny one to their son’s. It was easier now when his lover left because he had something to occupy the time. Still, he worried for him, but Alex quickly diverted his attention. His son didn’t cry often, as he was a rather good baby. Instead, he peered up at him when he checked on him or as much as a baby could from his crib. It unnerved him at times, his stillness and silence. When he had voiced this to Achilles, he only laughed.“My nurses said the same thing about me, I only cried when I wanted a tit in my mouth. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I grew out of it, he will too.”Slowly his body recovered from childbirth, and menstruation came back to his annoyance. And it came back with a vengeance, Patroclus had been sleeping peacefully next to Achilles before realizing the sheets felt wet.
A very large stretch of scarlet, met his sight, when he had gotten up. He hasn't even realized it was time for it, Achilles was even sleeping in half of it. Hera above, this was embarrassing. Shaking him awake had him stand off to the side while he cleaned up and changed the sheets.Alex started to cry, startled by the noise and light. He went to go to him; but Achilles already had him at the crux of his neck, rocking and humming a wordless tune to him.Patroclus watched them for a moment, their golden hair gleaming in the candlelight. Alex was dozing off again, content in his father’s warm arms. Despite his doubts about not being a good father, he was doing well. With everything back in order, they all settled back into bed. Achilles didn’t want to put Alex in his crib just yet.“I just want to hold him a little longer,” his green eyes holding such an unspoken sadness. “ He thinks of our son and his heir,” he thought. Patroclus leaned up to peck his cheek.“I would never begrudge you to hold your son. I labored to birth him for you,” he told him settling next to his warmth. His cramps were starting and he rather be asleep when than awake when that happened. When he felt up to it, he would go and fetch some herbs from the medical tent, to mix his potion. Or send one of the men, another cramp hit. Ugh, he was going to send someone else.“I love you,” he heard blinking out of consciousness. He wondered if Achilles was talking to him or their son, or both of them. As he fell deeper into sleep, with a small smile on his face. Things were so perfect.Achilles watched Patroclus drift off, Alex too slept deeply at his chest. His soft breaths against his bare chest, his tiny warmth a relief. With every breath they took, it brought an easiness to his heart. He held Alexander a little longer before he too could feel the pull of sleep. Carefully, he rose to settle him in his crib. His tiny hand balled up, but he didn’t stir. Achilles kissed his tiny forehead, “Sleep well, my son. I’ll protect you always.”Alexander was growing quickly, he could scarcely believe he was already six months old. Achilles had been right, Alex grew to make more noise as he grew. He cried when he wanted his attention, even if he wasn’t hungry. Laughing and smiling or occasionally babbled in conversation with him.“Come here little one, would you like to go and see Briseis and the other girls?,” he asked him, bundling him in his arms.“Ba, bap, ba,” was his answer so he took that as a yes. Patroclus straightened his both his wild golden curls and clothing. Once that was done he kissed his forehead. “Okay, then let’s go.” Alex cooed at him some more. He smiled such a good babe he was. On their walk across the camp, Alex smiled and cooed at the men curiously. A few of the men nodded as they passed others, bowed. This made him uncomfortable, but he supposed this was for the little prince he carried in his arms.One of his former guards, Theo waved at him. He waved back and Alex brightened when they reached the women’s tent. Briseis immediately scooped him up into her arms and kissing his chubby cheeks. He lingered for a moment before she shooed him off.“They need of you, don’t worry I have him. Taking care of him will be good practice for some of the mothers to be,” her Greek was coming along nicely. Other mothers? That piqued his interest.“Mothers to be?” he asked. Oh Gods, no. Had something happened that he and Achilles were unaware of? Briseis caught his worried expression and shook her head.“Many of the women have taken lovers, it was not forced. I think many of the babes were conceived the night of this little one’s naming ceremony,” she finished, teasing at the end.Patroclus breathed a sigh of relief, nothing untoward had happened to them. He kissed Alexander’s chubby cheek once again and waved to Briseis. She beamed at him before taking Alexander out of his view.Patroclus was lithe again, one couldn't even tell he had even had a child. Briseis shuddered at the mere thought of it, to carry the child of such a butcher.
She had to admit the baby was beautiful with his flaxen hair, chubby cheeks, pale skin, forest green eyes, and a tiny red mouth. However, he reminded her too much of his sire, the man who had killed all she loved. Her father, her brothers, her husband. Destroyed her village and allowed her and others to be in harm's’ way.Alexander was but an innocent babe, who had no control of his father’s actions. A babe whom Patroclus loved dearly. She tried to remind herself that when Patroclus played with and kissed the child.The child that nearly killed him.
When his belly had first begun to show to the point it was very noticeable, she had been confused before he explained. He was a carrier and was expecting Achilles’ child. Her first thought had been rape, then he explained as best he could how he loved him, loved the child in his belly. Briseis had worried about him and how he would be treated when the others discovered him being with a child. But the Greeks had been accommodating to him, either out of joy or fear of his lover.
A few women in the camps pitied him even those who hated him when he had gotten in the final stages of pregnancy. Thinking Achilles an unfeeling monster for sleeping with still.“He has no regard for the bearer of his child,” they whispered. How could Achilles resist his charms, he had become so lovely. His cheeks were fuller and ever rosy. Patroclus had looked so healthy, unlike when they had first met.
When he visited, they were all eager to hold and take the baby from him. Letting him be free for a few moments. Some of the women who had been mothers and grandmothers had thought it unnatural for a male to carry and birth a child. Even more unnatural for him to rear and fed the child himself. Patroclus had insisted on taking the child back each time, to feed him.
“ I have no problem with looking after my own child. I bore him, he is my responsibility. But I thank you kindly for your concern.”
Greeks were such a strange and prideful people. He obviously struggled to split his time between looking after his duties and taking care of his son.Achilles had surprised them all with how gentle he been with both his son and husband. The only ones who mattered to him.The day Alexander had been born, he raced back from the battlefield to personally see to his child and husband. Then ran to the main camp, for Machon, when Patroclus had began to bleed heavily.Getting to him, just in time.And all these months after Alex’s birth, he had not cleared Patroclus to return with him to the battlefield. Citing his health and that he was better suited in the camp with their son. She was secretly glad that he wouldn't be in danger.The Myrmidons however were eager to see him returned to the battlefield, they said he was nearly their prince’s equal. Even as heavy with a child as he was when he first went.And the longer Achilles kept him away, the more rumors sprung up. Prince Alexander was already six months old, was Patroclus expecting another child?Some of the whispers said Achilles purposely impregnated him on the way to Aulis to keep him from battle. Others argued that Achilles had done so before they even set sail. Neither was true, it had been unplanned coming on the heels of a painful miscarriage. Patroclus had only discovered it sometime before they set sail.Some were saying that Achilles wanted to keep him with a child at all times to keep him from the battlefield. From the way Patroclus had spoken this was his last one, he didn’t wish to go through it a third time. The first had ended in miscarriage, the second nearly in his death. Achilles had approved of his decision in fact he endorsed it.
Achilles was possessive, she saw that from the moment he had met Patroclus’ gentle kiss. It was dominance he had shown her that night, he didn’t care that she was there. He was going to have him regardless. His nature saw no room for others.He would destroy any who sought to take Patroclus from him. Including his own children if he saw fit.While Achilles adored Alex, but she shuddered to think of what would have become of the baby had Patroclus been taken by fever.

The Gods wouldn’t hear her, for they hadn’t when Achilles had come and burned everything to the ground. Still, she prayed that Patroclus remained in good health.The medical tent was crowded, as usual, Machon gave him a small smile. He finished with a small gash on a warrior’s temple before he came over to him.“Your highness, I’m surprised to see you again so soon. Is there something I can assist you with?”“No, in fact, I’m here to be of assistance to you.” Poliderus gave him a sharp nod as he finished strapping in his armor.“Good, we can use all the help we can get,” he patted his shoulder, once before he disappears through the opening of the tent.Machon sighed after he left, but led him along. His duties were simple still, and he helped Machon stitch up wounds and things of such nature. No arrow or spear wounds had come in yet. He was glad for it, and at the same time was anxious. Because at any time gravely wounded soldiers could come in. Agamemnon had continued his ruthless campaign on the men despite others voicing their concerns. No more meetings had been held in fear of there being discord among the men. They need a respite, a chance to rest and regather their strategy. Patroclus himself wished for peace, but with his lover’s destiny. That was only a dream, Achilles would practically have to bathe in blood to gain his godliness. Sighing tiredly to himself as another soldier came in. Already, he prepared to be here for some time.Damn Agamemnon and his selfish ways.It was well past sunset when he finished in the medical tent. Washing his hands-free of the blood and changing his tunic before returning to retrieve his son. Alexander cried when he was separated from Briseis, but once he was settled in his arms, his tears stopped.He cooed and immediately tried reaching for his hair, Patroclus gently moved his hand out of reach. Achilles indulged him so often to the point he reached for everyone’s hair if it fell in his line of sight.“He is a rather good baby, Patroclus,” she told him, moving a curl from his face from Alex’s reach. Her hand lingered for a moment there, as if she was waiting for him to stop her.He didn’t, but felt as if he should.“Patroclus,” he glanced in the direction of the call. Achilles and some of the men were returning from the field. Briseis dropped her hand back quickly, Achilles came over to them.Achilles placed a kiss on his lips but refrained from kissing their son. Alex reached one of his arms out to reach for his father, and Achilles shrank back.“Ba, ba,” he reached for him again, his eyes watering. Oh no, if Alex started crying it would be ages before he calmed him.Achilles kissed him to prevent him from crying, doing it briefly to prevent blood from coating his chubby cheek. Alex giggled in greeting and tried to reach for his father, but Patroclus held him firmly.The fear in his lover’s eyes broke his heart,“ Achilles, it’s okay. I’ll wipe him off. He won’t get sick.”Achilles glanced back to wave to Briseis, from the corner of his eyes, Patroclus saw she had returned it.Patroclus sat Alex down for a moment in his cradle with a silver rattle from Agamemnon, quite pleased with himself, so he turned his attention to Achilles.The water was already crimson and he had yet to rinse out his hair. Achilles was just staring at his hands in horror.“Achilles,” he called to him gently. He didn’t respond to him, instead burying his face in his hands.“Achilles,” he said this time more firmly.“How do you allow me to hold you or kiss you?,” his voice muffled by his hands, “ how do you allow me to hold our son as blood-soaked as I am?”“What has upset you, my love?,” he asked sitting against the rim of the tub, glancing at Alex nibbling on his silver ring ever so often.“ I merely ask,” Achilles said meeting his eyes finally.He chose his next words carefully, “Because I know none of this is of your choosing, Achilles.”“I have chosen this path, Patroclus you know this. Don’t pretend otherwise.”He blew out a breath, before rising to get a jug to rinse out Achilles’ hair. He hated to see his golden curls matted with blood. Hated to see him so weary and tired.“Yes, but you didn’t choose it truly, the Fates did. I know you have no control over it, this is merely how it has to be.” setting it down next to the table, for when he had finished.“He will grow to be afraid of me,” Achilles cast his gaze to Alex playing happily in his cradle.“He won’t fear you, he’ll want to be like you. He already shows how he adores you.” Patroclus cupped his cheeks, but he pulled away from him. Achilles was quiet as he scrubbed at his hair with soap, slowly the red fell away. He hated to see him like this, hated how his sins weighed upon him.“I do not wish for him to be a warrior, I wish for him to stay as he is. Safe and sheltered from harm, to have him or you harmed. Would kill me,” he spoke finally.“ Oh, my love, but he will have to be. His own destiny is written ,” Patroclus thought.Pouring the water over him, Achilles yelped.“That’s cold,” he muttered before laughing a bit.“I suppose it would be, sorry my love.” Achilles smiled briefly, that haunted look for the moment left him.Patroclus turned his attention to his son, who had grown quiet. He supposed he was hungry now. Hiding a sigh, he poured more water over his lover, who jumped again before placing a towel next to the tub.“Achilles, we’ll talk further when I put him to bed,” he pecked his lips before finally leaving him to see to their babe.Achilles had dried off and joined him on the bed, Alex content in his arms.“Are you alright?,” he asked him once more.Achilles only sighed before leaning into his shoulder.“I am now.”Patroclus smoothed his damp hair away from his face.Both his son and lover were against him, seeking peace and comfort.“You don’t have to fear our rejection, we love you,” Achilles didn’t respond, burying his head further into the crux of his neck. His golden hair curtaining his face.He said nothing when warm droplets fell on into his neck.For this would not be the first time, Achilles had come back from battle troubled. Nor would it be the last. He only prayed that soon they would have peace.Today, he decided to spend the day with Alexander solely. He hadn’t been spending as much time with him as he should. The women in the camp saw his baby more than he did.Patroclus sometimes missed how close he and Alex had been, how his heartbeat had beat in sync with his own. How his baby slept when he did, oh his little love. Alex was growing up so quickly, and soon he would have to wean him.Alex gave him a gummy smile and he kissed his chubby little cheek. Smoothing back his baby’s wild ringlets, decided that today was a nice day to venture into the forest.The fresh air would be wonderful for both him and his baby.Ever so often Alex would make and noise and gently he would encourage him to speak more words. Along the way Patroclus told him his own name first, then Achilles’, Briseis, and finally his own.“You’re still much too young, to say my name. But don’t worry soon you shall know and say many other things,” he told him settling in the clearing, a few flowers grew here. Maybe he could make a little crown for his baby.A cool breeze passed through the clearing and he felt relief. The sounds of the battlefield far behind as well as the pained cries of the injured or sick. Only him and his babe.Alex rested his soft head against his chest, he hummed a gentle lullaby to him. It was nearly his naptime after all.“Pa,” he sleepily uttered before sticky fingers reached up to touch his face. Patroclus let him too shocked to stop him.“ Close my love, so close,” he held his tiny hand in his own, planting a small kiss to the digits.His son, so small was to change Achilles’ destiny. His heartfelt heavy, he was destined to lose both his lover and child.Patroclus simply held his sweet babe to his chest, had this been how Thetis had felt the day Achilles was born. To know your child will be slaughtered in a bid to achieve glory, glory that was not fixed. For the Gods were fickle in their promises. The Fates even more so.Alex poked his head up from his chest. Eyes watching him as if they knew his anguish, always so thoughtful his babe.“I’m fine,” he assured him, he was so little. How could he know of his sorrow? Patroclus smiled softly at his baby.“You must go to sleep my Alexander, you will be upset otherwise,” he muttered leaving a lingering kiss to his forehead cuddling him ever closer to his chest. Patroclus started his song once more, within a few moments Alex was out instantly.With his baby asleep in his arms, he had more time to think about Achilles.Yesterday, had left him more worried than usual. Achilles had been quiet at dinner and even quieter before they all settled down. He had slept away from him, their backs touching. Never had he been so far away. The war was finally taking its toll on him, and he had no way to shield him from it.Alexander sniffled a bit in his sleep, he hoped he wasn’t getting a cold. Carefully he rose to make his way back to camp. There he could bundle him up in his warm blankets. Fall was ending, and soon it would be winter.Agamemnon had finally called another meeting and just as he had before. Patroclus was firmly in Achilles’ lap. This time an entire row was left empty. He could have cared less of what they thought of him, now. If they wanted to whisper “whore” or “slut”, let them. For none of it was true. Had this been a year ago, he would have wilted like a flower amid their accusations.Never again, would he falter in the midst of it, the word no longer held any meaning. Nor would it ever again.Diomedes had not even made one indecent comment towards him or Achilles, and they had given him plenty of material., In fact, he looked rather green in the face, with his lips firmly shut. He was curious, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. Like putting Agamemnon in his place.It was nearly a year since they had first come to Troy, and still they had gained no ground. Troy had not opened her gates, and winter was approaching. Every day Achilles came back to him missing more and more of himself, and each day he found it harder and harder to put him back together.That sweet boy from Mt. Pelion was slowly being replaced by a battle-hardened warrior. Something must be done.Something that didn't involve Achilles killing Hector. Something else.Agamemnon had only told them to be patient and soon they would have more treasure than what they knew what to do with. Odysseus pushed for more raids and that was actually what Agamemnon and Nestor had wished to hear.Patroclus snorted in disgust. Achilles was so bored that he was falling asleep only his fist preventing his head from drooping. Every so often he would pinch him to prevent him from snoring. Achilles liked to say that he didn’t, but Patroclus knew better. He had shared a bed with him for as long as he could remember.A war that was supposed to be a mere year was stretching beyond that, and they were trapped here. And from the coolness of the winds, this winter would be particularly frigid. He didn’t know it would be as cold as Mt. Pelion, but they still needed to be prepared.This meeting was useless as they would continue raiding the nearby lands and keep some troops fighting the majority of the Trojans. Achilles and their Myrmidons were stationed near the very front once again and once again they would be defending Agamemnon’s cowardly self.Patroclus had enough, he lightly shook Achilles awake, and tugged him out.Odysseus shook his head at him, but didn’t stop them.“I want to go to battle with you,” he stated quite plainly. Achilles dropped the bit of mush he was feeding Alex. His son fussed a bit, upset with his missing food. He kissed his head in apology.“You want to what?,” he kept his voice even hoping he would let it drop.Achilles had already told him that his place was here with their son, and he was needed at the medical tent tending the sick or dying. There was a nagging feeling at the very core of his being, Patroclus wasn’t meant to be anywhere near the battlefield.“Achilles, I know for a fact, your hearing is quite well.” Patroclus took the fussing babe from him, practically rolling his eyes at him.“Better than most,” he muttered, taking the bowl and spoon with him.“Your place is here.”Patroclus bounced Alex against his hip. All displeasure eased from his face. Alex’s soft giggles eased some of the tension between them. A smile graced his face, watching his husband and child.“ He needs you, Patroclus. I have no need of you on the battlefield.” Achilles wanted him to understand that he didn’t want to see him hurt.“Achilles, I know you wish to protect me, but I’m needed at your side.” “ Because our commander is an idiot who would have you killed,” he thought.“I do not need of you, stay here.” Achilles reached over to play with Alexander’s tiny fingers.“You can’t control my actions no matter how much you wish you could. I bore your son, but I’m still allowed certain freedoms.” Achilles paused. This was true. Never again would he do that, but still he wished he would be more careful.He hated when Patroclus became this stubborn, and wouldn’t listen to reason. Achilles knew that he had a tendency to be overprotective and was a bit controlling throughout his pregnancy. But this was madness, he had nearly bled to death only six months ago.“You have barely recovered from birth, you need rest. When Machon deems you well enough, we’ll see.” A shadow crossed his face before it was neutral again. He nodded.“Then train with me. Make it so that I’m fit for the battlefield again,” Patroclus dared him to refuse.“Defeat me in combat, and we’ll see about you returning to the field,” green held his gaze. His resolve never wavered. Gods, above.“I accept,” Patroclus told him.Stubborn as a mule, this one. Achilles prayed Alexander wouldn’t take after his lover’s temperament. Patroclus was sweet, but his temper was something to behold at times.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The sand gotten in between his toes and under the nails. Gods, that was vexing. At least the weather was lovely.Apollo’s budding rays cast a bloody orange shadow over the water. He slowed down a bit to admire the breaking dawn, it was the last lap anyway.“One more lap,” Achilles called to him before he was a blur once more. If he ran anymore his legs were going to fall off. Achilles was pretending to be fair in his training but in truth. He was a fucking tyrant.
Honestly, he should have just kept his mouth shut. From experience, he knew Achilles when it came to training. Their men's groans about his training regimen spoke volumes about his ruthlessness. Hades in boyhood, he was relentless. Luckily for him even after having their son, he kept up with him well enough.
Achilles thought he was keeping him, from the field. He thought wrong.
And he was going to prove it to him.The sunlight glinted off the blade, at his neck.Patroclus practically purred, “Yield,” pressing it closer to his throat. He knew his lover would never cut him, it was for show. His victory over him.
“ I yield,” the blade came away from his neck. Patroclus instead of moving off him stayed straddled on top of him. He laid his head against the grass in defeat.Patroclus was truly nearly his equal in every way. Gods, he would be stunning on the battlefield, but he preferred that Patroclus remain with their son. And now he would have to keep his word. Damn him.“I yielded, you can get off now,” he snarked. He had gotten what he desired.Patroclus drove his sword in the ground a bit next to his head, before caging him securely in the warmth of his thighs. A moment passed between them, he was tempted madly. However, he was furious with him at the moment. Mind and body warred with each other. Traitorously, his body craved his warmth and intimacy.
“Have you?” Patroclus teased, the sunlight lit up his features gorgeously.
Patroclus fluttered his pretty doe eyes close before, leaning down to kiss him. At first, the kiss was slow and chaste, then got progressively hungrier. His own blade lay forgotten. Both wrestled for control. Patroclus cheated and was once again on top.
“You cheated,” he panted looking up.
“Have I?” Patroclus snickered.
“Yes, you did,” he told him reclaiming his lips.
Achilles ran his fingers lightly up his back, Patroclus made a noise of agreement in his mouth. Their feet tangled up, and they rocked against each other.
He sat up cupping both his neck and back. They were both eager to have a taste of the other as much as possible. Breaking briefly, before Patroclus’ lush mouth was on his again. Soon the need for air outwon passion. Their breaths mingled together and for a moment, he had nearly forgotten why he was so cross with him. Ah, that's right. His lover was being negligent once again. Again he wanted to be at his side on a battlefield.Patroclus broke away from him, “Take me,” cheeks flushed and curls messy from both their sparing and makeout. They could discuss this later.
“Here,” Achilles leaned his forehead against his. Trying to catch his breath.
“Yes, here,” he panted.
He smirked against him.
“Where anyone could see us. Are you sure?” he teased gesturing to the empty clearing they were in.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Patroclus nipped at his neck. He was sure he would hae marks later. So bloodthirsty.
“ I would hate to become the next Menelaus and Diomedes,” Patroclus snickered at this, his warm breath teasing his skin.
“It’s funny how some months ago, the king asked me so much about pregnancy and carriers because he got him with a child.”
Achilles’ eyes widened.
“Seriously,” he hadn’t heard this before. Patroclus laughed again against his neck.
“You didn’t notice the lack of his vulgarity at the council, he has been abed with morning sickness,” he mimicked the action, “ I hear it’s worse than mine was.”
“Mmm, and how do you know such things,” he leaned back to pull his tunic up, and waited.
“The men talk,” Patroclus was kind enough to remove his own for him. His hands were finally free to greedily touch the wide expanse of his skin.
“They are the worst gossips,” Patroclus laughed, then gasped as his thumb ran over his nipple. That was only the beginning, Patroclus was in trouble for his taunting.Achilles kept his touches light and soft, they didn’t have to rush. He could have spent hours between his thighs, but his love was growing impatient with him.
Gods, he loved this. The sliding of their skin, how his breath caught, when he found that spot. He lazily thrust upwards, Patroclus met them equally languish.
Hands rested at his waist, a few marks stretched around his belly, proof that he carried their child. Gently he thumbed over them, they made him all the more beautiful.

Neither of them wanted to rush, content to enjoy their time together. It was rare for them to catch a moment together and Automedon was kind enough to watch their little prince for them to train. Only they weren’t sparring any longer. It was impossible to be angry with him like this. Patroclus chanted his name as he settled back down on him. Gods above, he loved watching him go up and down it drove him insane.In his haze he glanced down at his lover. Achilles’ deep green eyes met his equally dazed, his blonde hair spread out in the grass. His face was flushed, sweat beaded at his temple, and his plush lips were swollen.“I love you,” he thought He wasn’t very good with his words, so he let his actions speak. Patroclus leaned down to capture his husband’s lips fully. “More than anything.”
Achilles cupped the back of his neck bringing him closer. Patroclus found himself on his back, Achilles loomed over him. Red blooming across his tan cheeks, while his eyes roamed him in a predatory fashion.“I won,” he snickered.Patroclus reached up to pull a leave from his tangled hair, before tugging him down. Rejoining their lips, he rocked up into him hoping his lover would pick up on his desire.
Achilles slowly picked up the pace, and he drew his nails up his back. His lover wouldn’t admit it, but he loved it when he marked him up. Achilles groaned quietly, into his neck.
They were both dripping in sweat, still haven't reached their peak. They were fumbling around, as they had when they first became lovers. So unsure of themselves, but now they knew each other well enough to drive each other mad.
Achilles was toying with him. He would increase his thrusts getting him close before slowing down again. The bastard even had the nerve to grin at him, when he had finally caught on.
Then he pulled out, Patroclus sat up on his elbows. Now, what was he up to.“What are you doing?” he was mildly put out. His chest heaving slightly as he fought to regain his breath. Achilles wasn’t even breathing hard.“Turn around,” he breathed, teething at his pulse. Patroclus rolled his eyes but was moving to comply. Too slow for his lover’s taste and he found himself on his belly, ass high in the air. The bastard even smacked it. His cheeks reddened further, anyone could come by and see them like this. Him like this.“People are going to see,” he hissed at him, arranging himself up on his arms.“I thought you didn’t care if they saw or not,” Achilles snickered, positioning his hips. His lover had a point, but that was something he had said in the haze of lust.“There is no one else around, I have you all to myself. And, I’m going to make you scream,” he promised, kissing at the nape of his neck. Gods, if he wasn’t positively dripping before, then he was now.“Please,” he whispered, no longer caring. Achilles was right, there was no one around for miles.
Achilles intertwined his fingers with his before pushing inside. Dropping his forehead to the soft grass below. Gods, this was-.
Ajax was wrong, he still felt amazing wrapped around him.
They were both breathing hard, coming down from the high of it. Before Achilles remembered he wasn’t supposed to sleep with him. At least not the way he just had, again he had gotten out of control.“We were supposed to be training, not having sex,” he muttered withdrawing from him. Laying on his back, lightly swiping under his nose. No blood this time. Patroclus snorted, watching him.“We did, and then had some fun. What’s wrong with that?,” Patroclus moaned slightly, just to tease him further. Stretching and flopping next to him. He was going to kill him. before finally settled himself against his chest.“Besides, we did this a lot when we're younger, sneaking off to have sex. Telling Chiron we were ‘wrestling’.” Achilles drew his fingers up his hip. “I pretty sure he knew what, we were up to really. Because you were so loud,” Achilles joked, and by all the Gods wasn’t he. By the time they had finished, he had him quivering and shaking screaming himself hoarse.“ We were both equally loud, and could be because there was no one around for miles.”

“Wanna go again?,” Patroclus asked playfully, straddling him. Hades, he was really trying to kill him.
“Aren’t you satisfied?”

“No, because I hardly have your attention anymore,” he pouted. “You find me repulsive, why else would you continue to find excuses to avoid coming to bed.”“That isn’t true,” he replied sitting up, “ You’ve been recovering from having our child, I would never.”“ I had Alex nearly six months ago, haven’t I rested enough? Machon even cleared me for the field”If Achilles thought he wasn’t going back to the battlefield he was mistaken. Agamemnon held a grudge against them both. Enough to the point he had their Myrmidons in line with the Trojan archers.
One arrow and it would be over.“No, I wanted to be sure of your health. You’re my everything, my very heart. I couldn’t bear it if I hurt you,” his cheeks flushed. Patroclus cupped his face.“You worry about impregnating me again,” he summarized, and his lover flushed even harder. That was why he hadn’t been properly coming to bed. What a silly reason.“Yes,” Achilles answered turning his face away a bit. Patroclus snickered slightly, his husband was so adorable.“You won’t.” he said, gently leaning his forehead against his lover.“How do you know that? I’ve already gotten you with child twice, another could kill you,” that was his deepest fear. Losing him.“Because I'm nursing our son and taking anti-conception herbs, I’m not pregnant. ” His bleeding would further cement this.“And the last two times, you got me with child without even penetrating me,” he laughed, kissing him again.“Besides there are other ways for us to enjoy,” he whispered pulling back.Oh, Gods if Achilles turned any redder, surely he would have another nosebleed. That wouldn’t do.“You do know you can’t seduce the enemy like this.” Achilles started.
Patroclus snorted against him.
“I’m well aware that this only works on you.”
“Your footwork was sloppy.” Achilles continued.
Patroclus groaned, “ Achilles, really is this the time for this.”
“Well, it’s true. You need to..”
Patroclus tuned the rest of his speech out.
“Hello cousin,” a voice startled him, while he was finishing a stitch across a warrior's chest. A clean slash across his chest, but it would heal in time. Thank the Gods, he was done with the most crucial part.
“Ajax,” he returned tying the last of the bandage. It was probably a minor wound.
Finished he helped the soldier stand and he staggered off.
Turning around Ajax was a sight. Blood dripping sluggishly down his temple. Patroclus quickly settled him down, pressing a bandage to the wound. Except he couldn't tell where the bleeding had started from. Carefully he searched his blond hair, that was becoming matted.
Near the center of his skull, there was the wound.
Oh, Gods, it was so deep. The skull was nearly visible.
“Ajax how did you get this?,” if he knew how then it could be treated more effectively.
“A damned Trojan knocked me out with his shield,” Ajax spit.
Reexamining the wound, he did see that it was somewhat curved. Patroclus made an “mhm”, as he mixed something to ease his pain.
“ Just hold that in place for a moment,” moving the blood-soaked bandage to rest at the actual wound.
Ajax caught his wrist before he could turn back to mixing.
“Don't trouble yourself, I wish to be clear of mind for this.”
Patroclus wanted to argue with him, but wouldn't deny his wishes.
“Tell me how is my cousin and his son.” Ajax didn't even wince as he pulled the needle through.
“ They are well, Alex is getting so big, I can hardly believe he will be a year soon."
“ Are his little cheeks chubby?,” Ajax asked as the third stitch went through.
“ Very, I suppose that is my fault though.” Achilles spoiled Alex with letting him have his way and he never denied him when he wanted milk. Even if he had fed him earlier.“Probably not, you should have seen Achilles as a babe. He was such a greedy thing, his nurses had to wean him early for he liked to chew on their tits. Except he didn't have teeth.”Patroclus couldn't help the giggle that escaped him. He tried imagining, Achilles as a babe who terrified his wet nurses. The more he thought about it the funnier it became. It was also concerning, because if it was true then he was to wean Alex as soon as possible. His babe tended to pull a little hard. And his teeth had yet to come in, but soon they would.“ That isn't true,” he said, at the seventh stitch. Patroclus had to work quickly to close it before the infection could sent in. Just keep him talking.“ Oh, but it is. My cousin would probably wring my neck for telling you such things.”Patroclus smiled. Achilles may have seemed to hate Ajax’s constant teasing, but enjoyed his company. Patroclus loved hearing some of the embarrassing stories he held about his lover. How Achilles had turned so crimson when Ajax had called him a chubby child.
“He was so fat that he once fell, and his nurse had to roll him over,” Patroclus had laughed until he cried. Phoinix confirmed and Achilles sulked most of the night. Alex kindly comforting him. Their sweet babe.
He loved the feeling of having a family. With a war around them, surrounded by family and friends made all the troubles melt away for a moment.“ You know I never got to thank you for helping my Tecmessa deliver our babe” Patroclus was at the eleventh stitch.“ There is no need for thanks. I only assisted. Machon did most of the work.”
Ajax went to shake his head, but Patroclus held him in place.“ Hold still, I'm almost done.” If he had to guess ten more stitches.Finally, he was finished. Carefully he rinsed Ajax’s hair of blood and bandaged him before forcing him to lay down.
“I haven’t got time for this. Tecmessa will be worried.” Ajax jerked as he sat up.Patroclus brushed his hand across his forehead. A slight fever was forming. Curses, he hadn’t been fast enough. He wasn’t going anywhere.“I’ll tell her, you need rest. You wouldn’t want to frighten her looking like this would you?”
Ajax grumbled, but didn’t fight him this time when he gave him the cup. Nothing that would impair his thinking, just something to bring his fever down.
Patroclus called to Machon to watch him, he was going to inform Tecmessa as promised.It was late when he returned to the Myrmidon camp, Achilles was feeding Alex. He didn’t want to intrude just yet. They were so cute together.Achilles was trying to feed Alex, but he turned his nose up at the mush. More of it ended up on Achilles than it did in Alex’s mouth. His son wanted his milk, not mush. Hmm, it seemed weaning Alex would be no easy task. Alex's face was scrunched up, he was about to have a fit if he didn't get what he desired.“Here let me take him, my love,” he held his arms out for him, and Achilles passed him their son. The moment his tunic and bandages were loosened, Alex latched on.
His features softened immediately into contentment. Patroclus leaned to kiss his forehead, his sweet babe. He could wean him later, he wasn’t old enough yet.“You’ll need some new clothes soon,” he whispered, wiping off Alex’s face and changing his clothes. Alex reached for him. He was so adorable. Especially with how chubby he was.
He glanced at Achilles, trying to picture him as a babe. Chubby or not. Their babe would grow to be so handsome, due him taking after Achilles so much.“ I saw Ajax, today,” he told Achilles, rocking Alex against his shoulder.Soon he would be ready for bed. Hopeful he won’t fuss too much, he was drained from the day’s events. From training to the medic tent to rushing back to Alex. Gods above, he hated Agamemnon for putting his family in danger. He was running them into the ground one day it would be Achilles or one of their men hurt. Gods, Tecumessa had cried so terribly, thinking her lover dead. Her cries made his heart clench. For he could have easily been in her shoes. Achilles was so fucking reckless, it drove him crazy.“He wasn’t bothering you, I hope,” Achilles looked up ever so often from the scrolls in front of him. His husband looked even more worn out. His slim fingers running through his damp hair, every so often trying to make sense of the numbers. When he put Alex to bed, he would go over them with him.

“No, he was injured in the medical tent,” Alex reached for his curls once more and he gently moved his hand back. Alex wanted to throw a fit, quickly he pulled out his favorite rattle.“Oh,” Achilles’ tone seemed nonchalant, but he heard the concern in it. As much as they butted heads, he knew they cared for each other.“A Trojan’s shield to his skull.” Achilles’ breath caught, “ the wound was quite deep.”Patroclus was quick to elaborate, “ I stitched him right up, but he didn’t seem to want anything to dull the pain.”“ I can imagine why.”Patroclus waited for him to say more but he didn’t. Achilles glanced back down at the scrolls. He tried lightening the sudden heavy mood around them.“But he did tell me more stories from when you were a baby.” he snickered. Achilles glanced up almost startled but hid it.Ajax was going too far lately. First, he made crude comments about his and Patroclus’ relations. Then he had the nerve to expose his childhood’s darkest secrets. Ajax and his lover got on like a house on fire. Whispering and swapping stories about him. He could tell because they often stopped when he glanced over at them. Sometimes he regretted introducing them.
Okay, maybe he was a tad sore about him exposing how chubby he used to be as a child. Ajax had been exaggerating he had only had chubby cheeks nothing more. Phoinix had even played along. Traitors, the lot of them. Patroclus had tried not to laugh but he failed. His giggles had been so sweet, he couldn’t fault him. And he had made it up to him tenfold.“ Whatever he told you was lies, all of them.” Patroclus laughed a little.“So, you didn’t chew on your wet nurses’ teats.”Gods, Achilles turned so red, he was sure he would catch fire.Damn him to Hades.“ I did not.”Patroclus couldn’t help, but laugh harder. Alex’s soft giggles added to the atmosphere.
Achilles smiled fondly at them, they were so adorable with their laughter. On a side note, Ajax was a dead man. A very dead man.Their training had skipped the usual steps and went to what they did right after training.“Hnh,” he moaned into his neck. A small trickle down his inner thighs reminded him, of what had started.“Achilles, we need to stop” he panted pushing him away. His lover pulled back immediately.“I’m bleeding,” he explained, hoping he would understand. That got an immediate reaction of his lover trying to find where.“It’s my monthly bleeding,” he added hoping to stop his panic. He relaxed, instantly.“Oh,” Achilles muttered quietly, before recapturing his mouth. Patroclus let him before drawing away again.“Doesn’t that bother you?” he panted a little dizzy. Achilles rested his forehead against his green eyes playfully.“No, why would it? It’s only a little blood,” he whispered into the space between them.“It’s dirty,” Patroclus told him and Achilles snorted. It was only blood, he didn’t mind it all. Every day he was bathed in it.“It’s natural, not gross. I know a way to make you feel better,” he whispered. Finally, he had a way to relieve his pain, now that he knew what caused him to be ill monthly. No longer did he have to just stand by and watch him suffer.“How?,” he was a little curious, but vaguely had an idea.“Deidamia’s foster sisters used to whisper how when their monthly bleeding came, how it was eased with the help of a lover.”Patroclus now rolled his eyes,“ No, that’s filthy.” To sleep with him during pregnancy was one thing but this was a whole other thing.“How would you know? If you haven’t even tried it.” Achilles dragged his thumb over his lip. Golden flecks appeared in his eyes.
By all the Gods it sounded so tempting, but he felt how it slid down his thighs. He wouldn’t dare subject him to that. However, he blushed at the thought of it.“Hmm, are you quite sure?” his eyes were heavy with wicked intentions. Wicked intentions he was very much for. If not for the trouble that plagued him.“I’m very talented with my tongue,” the way he airily said this, made him pause.“You want to taste my menstrual blood, that's,” he couldn’t even find the words to finish.“Only if you want me to,” why was he so eager to have him like this. Was his bloodlust so great that he wanted to lap at him?“ I bled heavily,” he crossed his arms. This was just no, he wasn’t going to entertain this any longer.
“I won’t do anything, you aren’t comfortable with,” his voice dropped even lower. While his other hand played at the end of his tunic, hiking it up ever so slightly.
It moved up no further, and he appeared to be waiting for his permission.His lips were crimson when he finally came up. Achilles casually wiped the excess away, not even bothered. Red streaked the back of his hand. Gods.
“Better?” Achilles asked, sluggishly he nodded. The blissfulness he felt was amazing, the cramps had eased to a dull ache.“Much,” Patroclus said blushing and Achilles gave him such a smirk, eyes taking that cat-shaped gleam. So pleased with himself, and he had reason to be.“Good,” he said, cupping his cheek. Patroclus recoiled from him, and he laughed.Cheeky bastard. Achilles held up his hands in mock surrender, before lunging for him again.“Achilles, lemme go,” he screeched in between laughs.“You’re being cruel to me, I only wish to kiss you.”“ With blood staining your mouth.”“It’s your own blood,” Achilles told him, crowding further into his space. He wanted to kiss him too, just not like that.
Arguing with Achilles was a lost venture, instead, he passed him the wineskin.“Here, rinse out your mouth, perhaps then I’ll reward you with a kiss.”Achilles took a sip, swishing it around before spitting it out when he was finished. Patroclus leaned over to kiss him, as promised. A slight metallic taste permeated their kiss, but he didn’t hate it. After all, it was his own blood.
Patroclus thought Achilles would take the incentive to finish what he started, getting him so riled up. Instead, he took him into his arms, gently rubbing circles at his sides.
Patroclus shouldn’t have felt so disappointed, but he did. For all Achilles’ persuasion, nothing had come from it.“Are you still hurting?,” Achilles breathed, his fingers still tracing at his side.“A little,” he responded curling up into his arms. Achilles suddenly was on his feet with him in his arms. He had been too distracted by the ebbing of his cramps.“You need to rest,” he told him.“I thought you were helping me through my bleeding,” he was trying not to pout. Achilles chuckled not once stopping.“This was for your benefit, not mine,” Achilles continued his trek along the path.“What if I wanted it to be for both our benefit?” Hades take him now. He can’t believe what he was asking him to do.Achilles stopped, glancing down at him.“Are you sure? You seem a little squicked out by the idea,” now he wanted to tease him.“ I didn't hate it,” he confessed wishing for the ground to swallow him up.“Oh, you didn’t ?” Achilles’ grin was so wolfish.“I didn’t,” he repeated his blush growing ever crimson.Their clearing was peacefully and birds sang from the trees above them. They didn’t pay them any mind, content to suck on each other's tongues. Patroclus’ fingers tangled in his hair, practically devouring his mouth. His own hands wandered downwards again. Achilles near having him again, if his eagerness was anything to go by.“Your highnesses,” they both stilled.“I thought you said few knew of this path,” Achilles breathed, pulling back. Patroclus’ lips were swollen and slick with spit.“The only other person, who would know is-,” Automedon came into view. On his hip, a wiggling Alexander. Patroclus separated from him, and they tried to make themselves presentable. Uncaring of their nakedness, Automedon deposited the fussing baby into Patroclus’ arms.

“Your highnesses,” the younger boy bowed quickly, before leaving. They glanced at one another before Alexander started his wailing. At times Automedon’s timing was less than desirable. Patroclus dabbed at Alex’s little face, dried tears tracks were on his face, poor thing.“Oh, you poor thing,” he held him to his chest. Instantly, he latched on. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his tiny brow, oh his poor babe. It was well past his feeding.Achilles rolled onto his stomach, just watching him. His golden tresses spilled freely over his shoulders, his posture relaxed and sated like a lazy cat in the sun. A tan hand pushed back the free fall of curls, a leaf dislodged itself.
Achilles grinned at him, his eyes taking their usual cat-eye shape. They only did that when he was up to no good.
He was nursing their son for the Gods’ sakes, Achilles had his fun.“Stop leering at me, I can feel it,” he muttered looking down at their son, whose tiny fingers grappled for better purchase at his small chest. Taking deep and greedy gulps, he must have been starving. Gods, he felt so guilty, perhaps his lover was right. His place was with Alex, at least until he was weaned.“I’m not,” was his playful response. He wasn’t, not truly.Patroclus was just so beautiful like this, holding their son so lovingly. Never had he dreamed that he would be so blessed? Patroclus’ cheeks were reddening, how lovely. Achilles sent him another predatory grin and was rewarded with the red spreading further in his high cheeks. Aphrodite had blessed not only his son but lover with such beauty.“Our son is literally at my chest as we speak,” he hissed quietly.“He has no idea what we are speaking of or what we did,” Achilles informed him, his grin growing more and more wolfish by the minute. Patroclus was so lovely, with his cheeks so red and vibrant. Gods, he was so perfect, like this. They would be happy.

Gods above he was insatiable. At least let him wean one child before putting another on him. Wait, did he want another child. Patroclus had sworn to himself, that he won’t go through that again. It hurt too much and besides he had been quite nasty to everyone during his pregnancy. Achilles especially. He settled Alex a little more firmly on his chest. That thought would just be put in the back of his mind for consideration.“I would give him a bit more credit he is very intelligent for his age,” he told him.“Hmm, then I suppose he would know what we did before his birth,” he mumbled drowsily from his elbows. Patroclus hoped he had a good time teasing him because he was going to sorely regret it later. After some time, he felt no heated glances when he peeked over at him, Achilles was falling asleep.His golden lashes were slowly fluttering closed, had he worn him out that much. Or the heat was getting to him, either way, he nursed their son in peace. When he finished, Alex twisted and wiggled in his arms wanting to be free. He checked the ground for snakes and other insects before settling him in the grass. Alex crawled over to his napping father, pulling at his hair. He did love shiny things. Achilles should have stopped his habit, by now.“Ba, ba,” he babbled.Achilles snorted a bit before one eye cracked open. He rolled onto his back and allowed the babe to crawl on his chest. Patroclus scooted next to them and Alex crawled over his father’s chest, prodding his tiny fingers into his face. Patroclus had to turn his head as not to laugh, a proud warrior subdued by a mere babe.“Love aren’t you going to help,” he pleaded, moving Alex’s curious finger from going too close to his eye. That's what he got for being so crude. Patroclus pretended not to hear him, instead picked at a few small flowers surrounding him. They were long enough for a small crown, perhaps for their baby.
Eventually, Alex grew tired of poking and pulling at his father’s hair and face and yawned.Achilles settled him at his chest, glancing over at his husband who leaned upon his forearms. Patroclus too was fighting the effects of the weather. Dark lashes moving slowly, each time they stayed closed a little longer.
“ I think he is sleepy, my love. He yawns continuously,” Achilles told him, and right on cue Alex yawned again.
“ I should retire with him then,” he moved to take him. Achilles wouldn’t let him. He was so protective of their son when he held him, afraid that he would never hold him again.
“He can sleep here on my chest, you do so all the time,” Achilles said quietly, not wanting to disturb Alex’s sleep. Patroclus nodded and continued with his little crown of flowers when it was finished placed it on his babe’s glossy curls.
Patroclus watched both his loves fall asleep. Golden hair and skin gleaming in the light, how startling the way they glowed, how everything weighed upon them. For now, he tries to enjoy his time with them.
“Mmh,” he sighed, glazing at the clear blue sky. Under his skin, he felt pressure in the air. A storm was coming.
Automedon could no longer stand Alex’s distressing cries. Bundling the baby up, then went to look for his parents. Who was supposed to be “training”, there were wasn’t much training from what he had seen. If they continued as they did. Alex would soon have another sibling. It didn’t help that the little prince was already very spoiled, he wants his mother’s attention always. Crying for him even when he had been fed and no other would do. As he had predicted the prince wasn’t bothered in the least by his lover’s new marks or a bit of weight, from what he had seen. If anything Achilles could hardly keep his hands to himself if Patroclus could see himself. Marks down his neck, a bruised imprint of hands on his waist. There was a reason a bet was going around.
Automedon wondered if he had been taking herbs as he suggested. For all their sakes.
When he blinked into consciousness again, tiny green eyes met his. He smiled, Alex was in the middle of them. Sitting up stretching for a moment, before noticed the little flower crown was askew in Alex's hair. He righted it.
“You’re finally awake,” Achilles told him, allowing Alex to crawl back into his lap.“ I wasn't asleep that long,” he argued. His lover paid him no mind too busy trying to make Alex giggle, tickling him.He giggled again when his father pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek. Achilles’ green eyes brightened when he finally saw the little crown in his hair.“That is such a lovely crown you have in your hair,” Alex babbled in response. Achilles looked at him when he said this. From his smile, he could tell he was remembering a time when he made them for him.
Alex reached his tiny hand towards Achilles’ golden hair and tugged on it. His lover beamed in response, pressing a kiss to his small fingers. They were perfect, his little family.
Patroclus leaned his head on his knees watching them. He loved them and wished it could be like this forever. If only.
Achilles glanced over at him, beckoning him closer. When he was in front of him, he watched in awe as Alex wobbled on his chubby legs before Achilles caught him. A grin passed between them.“He is growing so quickly, soon he’ll be walking,” Achilles passed him another soft smile, “ And if he is half as stubborn as someone I know. He’ll probably be walking sooner."He held Alex firmly in his embrace to kept him from standing again. “ He cried and threw a tantrum when he first did it and fell over. Luckily, he fell on me and the soft grass.”“I’m sorry,” Patroclus told him, Achilles looked at him bemused.“Why are you sorry? I can handle him,” he said and Alex freed himself of his grip to crawl over to his lap. “Or not,” he chuckled.
“Come here you naughty babe, you’re making me look bad,” Alex seemed happy where he was, pulling at his tunic. He was hungry again, undoing the shoulder of his tunic settled him back at his chest.“Achilles, you know what I meant,” he said playing with Alex’s curls. Straightening them as best as he could. Alexander was lost in his little world, it seemed. Ow, he was pulling a little hard. Another moment passed between them, understanding filled his green eyes.“No, you have nothing to apologize for. You’re right I have no right to dictate your actions. That was wrong of me to just assume what I know is best for you. I’m sorry,” Achilles sighed raking through his hair. Patroclus reached over Alex for his hand, Achilles squeezed back.“ I admit I can be a little headstrong at times, I know have been driving you insane this past year. Pregnancy made me a little mean.”A little mean, that was an understatement. Achilles had never heard him swear and scream so much, often at him. Often he was afraid to be near him, his temper a storm. He could almost hear Ganymede mocking him, “He’s pregnant, what could he possibly do to you?” A lot according to his later statements. Thankfully, it was well past the Festival of Dionysus., Of course, he would never say such things, Patroclus seemed to be his sweet, gentle self again.
“You were only trying to look after me and I made it harder on you. I know how stressed you were already and I only made it worse. You had so much put on your shoulders and I was selfish thinking of only myself,” Achilles squeezed his hand. His beloved was never selfish.“I went into battle after you told me to stay behind. I wasn’t thinking about all the dangers, I thought only of you, of your honor. How I would shame you.” Achilles moved closer to him, his eyes blazing, as they had long ago.“I don’t care about that, I care only for you and him. Nothing matters to me more. Then knowing that you two are safe. Damn my honor and reputation.” Achilles kissed his cheek.“You promised me something long ago, do you remember it?” he muttered moving back. Patroclus ducked his head shyly. How could he.“I promised that you be the first hero to be happy.” Alex detached himself and he switched him to the other side.

“Because?,” Achilles brushed his other thumb carefully across his cheek. Alex glanced up eyes curious.“I would be the reason,” Patroclus blushed.“You both would be the reason,” Achilles stated, kissing Alex’s curls.
“I love you both of you too much, to be parted from you,” he promised. Godhood seemed so far away, and he was much happier here with his family. Achilles tried to push down the subtle ache of Pyrrhus’ absence. How he wished things could have gone differently.Just as they had arrived back in camp as it began to pour, the wind and rain soaking everything. A few pails had been set up around their tent to collect the excess water. Patroclus had moved Alex’ cradle further into the center before he decided he would be more comfortable in his arms.Patroclus thought he would cry more, but instead, he was calm, as the wind howled. Then again he and his lover were of water, of the sea. A little rain and wind was nothing to them. But the sky was so dark, so he got a few candles to light so Alex wouldn’t be afraid. Achilles wrapped his arms around him. Alex babbled ever so often, trying to reach for Achilles’ hair. His lover let him, perhaps to keep him calm. Patroclus refrained from sighing if this is how the rain would be in camp, imagine when the wintertime came.
For once Agamemnon had granted them a few days to be with their families. In truth, Menelaus had pushed for the order.
“Do you think they will marry?” Patroclus asked him out of the blue. It took him a moment to catch on to what his lover was saying. Right, Diomedes was expecting Menelaus’ child. What a strange turn of events. They shared a naughty grin, poor poor Diomedes. Patroclus was right when Achilles had seen him last, he looked like death himself. His lover had to turn his head as not to laugh, as he mimicked his horrible retching.Alexander glanced up for a moment before he went back to chewing on his blanket. Patroclus sighed catching him before getting him a piece of soft bread to chew on instead. A play of the hand and he switched the blanket end for the bread. Alex’s tiny brow wrinkled up in confusion before he was happily nibbling on it.Patroclus went back to his work of folding and pinning a new set of garments for him. He was growing so quickly, they could scarcely keep up with his growth. He was so chubby, Gods so cute.“I pray for it, then we can all go home. Helen can live out her days with Paris,” the day that happened is the day Helen came running back.“I hope he does, Diomedes seems to be in love with him. How strange, is it not?,” his lover continued, pausing in his work briefly to give Alex another piece of bread.
“How are they strange?” Achilles asked absentmindedly. Patroclus was picking up their men's’ favorite pastime, gossip. Though he had a point, their romance was a little strange, if it could even be called that.
A farce more like it, on Menelaus’ part. Carriers were rare and many took advantage of how they bore sons. Menelaus was as shady as his elder brother, but not quite as cruel. He would treat him well if he wanted his pregnancy to go well. If he wanted his son, healthy. It was detestable for Menelaus to use him like that. The king had plenty of sons, there was no need for him to endanger his life. Never again could he do that to Patroclus, it was too risky.“Menelaus, I know for a fact is old enough to be his father twice over. Diomedes is near our age, but for a few years. Besides I hear he has many sons already with other mothers, poor Diomedes, his heart will be broken….,” Achilles stopped his sharpening to watch his lover for a moment. His attention it seemed was split between sewing, gossiping, and giving Alex various pieces of bread. His husband. Gods, he was perfect.

Alexander looked to his mother for more of his wondrous bread, and when he found his mother's attention was lacking on being focus on something other than him.
A wail startling them both, “Papa,” he cried reaching for him and Patroclus was already kneeling to cradle him.“Here my love, don’t cry, I’m here,” he cooed trying to calm him. “It’s alright I’m here.”
From that moment on he worked with Alex clinging to his shoulder. Achilles made faces behind Patroclus’ back to get his son to smile. For his efforts, he was awarded a bright gummy smile. A pretty smile just like his lover’s. Abandoning all further attempts at sharpening his sword, sheathed it, and went to take Alex from Patroclus. Alex came into his arm with little fuss.His son’s curious hand went for his hair, babbling and holding it. For some reason all babies and children loved his hair, they reached for it immediately. Ajax’s son had even yanked a few strands and he was but a few days old. So young, and he already had his father’s strength. Achilles never complained or pulled back when Alex reached for it all his son seemed to do was hold it and admire it. And pull it when he wasn’t looking, naughty babe.“You have your own golden hair,” he told him and the babe only giggled. Achilles kissed his forehead, settling firmly in his arms. When they drew away from Patroclus, that is when he started to whimper a bit, so he stayed where his son could see his mother.
“He is very spoiled, my love. I hate to see as he grows,” he laughed. Patroclus sent him a curious look, but didn’t respond.“All most done,” he said instead. So Achilles sought a way to entertain his babe, who wriggled to be free. A few moments of shaking a silver ring seemed to hold his attention, Patroclus joined him on the rug next to Alexander.“ All finished,” he told him kissing his cheek, before taking Alex back.
“Come here my little love, let’s see if these fit better,” he told him settling him on their bed. Removing his tunic for a bigger one.Alex flayed his chubby arms against him to reach for his curls and he evaded his grip ever so gracefully.“That isn’t kind, my love,” Patroclus whispered softly to their babe.
Who babbled a small “Papa” in response.“And you, it’s okay to scold him sometimes about reaching for hair otherwise he’ll pull on all those he meets,” he said, turning to him. Achilles fixed his face to the very picture of innocence.“I do,” and Patroclus glared at him. Well, he tries, but Alex was quite persistent. He liked pretty things. Jewelry, hair, if it caught his eye he wanted it.“Yet you wonder why he is so spoiled when you let him have his way.” Achilles shrugged at him, he hated to see him cry. Hated to see both of his loves cry for any reason.“He’ll grow out of it,” Achilles said bringing over a golden ball for him to play with while Patroclus worked around him to redress him.“ I hope so,” Patroclus responded, tying his new tunic around him.“There you are,” he cooed at him. Alex was still trying to chew on the ball when he couldn’t offered it to him. Patroclus took it despite it being sticky with slobber.“Thank you, my little love,” he said kissing his cheek.“Pa-pa,” Alex called, holding his chubby arms out for him.“Papa’s sorry he scolded you,” he whispered into his golden curls. Achilles snickered quietly, now who was soft with their son.“Not a word,” he muttered catching him. Achilles held his hands up in surrender.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The palace servants were bustling around every corridor. However when she passed, they all paused in their work, hatred clear in their eyes. Helen sighed quietly, simply adjusting her veil. Changing her direction from Paris' rooms to  Queen Hecuba’s gardens, where she would be free from their scrutiny.
A truce was being discussed “for the winter.” She withheld a snort. All knew it was because Menelaus has impregnated a carrier. Who were known to pop out sons in litters, what Menelaus craved more than anything.
The Achaean army could not continue without his forces, that he couldn’t lead with his condition. Fools, she hoped Hector would deny their truce and slaughter them all. For none could beat him, she paused. Except.
The Scourge of Troy, the great hero, Achilles. Who had also bedded and wedded a carrier. Helen heard his name was, Patroclus and that he battled at his husband's side five months pregnant. Until, Achilles forced him from the field.
Patroclus reminded her of her brother-in-law’s wife, Andromeda. What she lacked in beauty she made up in her kind nature and brute strength. Hector was completely taken with her, she wondered if it was the same for Achilles and his husband. A shame she would never know. The negotiations were tonight, of course she wasn’t allowed to attend in the event it was a trap.
Question was with the news of her husband's pregnant lover, would she be left here with Paris in peace? As there was talk of them marrying. Ha. Agamemnon would never allow it.
And she also knew Menelaus, his little affairs never lasted long. There would be no wedding, as long as she was behind this wall or else the men might have just stayed home. Even if he loved him, her shadow would always hang between them. He would always come back to her.
He always had.  The clang of swords ran out in the nearby clearing, a crowd gathered to watch.
Briseis watched as Achilles and Patroclus traded blows with deadly and accurate precision. While he was fast and his blows sharp, Achilles often left wide arches, which Patroclus took full advantage of. He looked so handsome with his curls pushed back from his face with a leather headband. The white of his chiton contrasted nicely with his dark skin gleaming with sweat. She caught herself cheering for him to herself. Alex squirmed in her arms, she adjusted him so he wouldn't fall.
The duel was clearly winding down with victor clear, Achilles as always. However at the last minute Patroclus caught him by surprise.
Hooking his leg under his ankle, in moments he went down. Patroclus loomed over him his blade pressed at his throat. The crowd went silent.
“If only he would press a little harder, they could all be free of him,” she thought. Patroclus would never do that, he loved Achilles too much to even think of such a thing.
Instead he asked, “Yield.”
Achilles seemed to consider it, before springing up his own blade was against his throat, “Do you?” he returned.
“Never,” and their dance began again. The men cheered for their princes. Alexander started fidgeting a little in her arms, wanting his mother. One could just tell, he loved his mother, and few could blame him.
“Pa,” he gurgled, making grabbing motions at Patroclus, oh Gods. He truly wanted his mother, it wouldn’t be long before his wailing started.
"Papa," he whimpered again. She started bouncing him on her hip hoping to soothe him.
His parents were still clashing swords, but now the friendly banter had gone out of it. It was a real battle one between enemies, not lovers.
A cry startled them all, Alexander’s tiny red mouth parted erupting in an ear-splitting scream, distracted Patroclus let his focus slip. Giving Achilles the perfect opening to pin him, the metal resting above his heart.
“Yield,” he demanded.
Patroclus pushed the blade away, “ I yield.”
Achilles grinned at him before holding his hand out, his lover ignored it heading straight for her.
Carefully, she held the wailing babe out to him. Despite being in his mother's arms, his cries continued.
"Ssh, my love. I'm here now," he cooed running his hand along his back. His cries rang out even louder. Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere with him, this was a matter best done in private.
Patroclus began walking back to their tent, glancing back briefly to see Achilles had both swords in hand. He fought the urge to sneer, how stupid of him. He should have known better.
Briseis trailed after him awkwardly making apologies, gently he brushed them away.
"There is nothing you could have done. When Alexander decides he's hungry there is little chance of him not crying."
Alex was still wailing his little lungs off, once he stuck a tit in his mouth he would be calm.
"Not much longer, Alex. Bear with this a moment longer." “There you are, my sweet,” he murmured to his baby, who was once again calm at his chest. Outwardly, he displayed a calm disposition inside he was fuming. Not because he had lost, but because he and Achilles had dueled before. He had won fair and square, however, Achilles wanted a rematch which he had agreed to. How stupid of him to agree to such a thing. Patroclus had beaten him in the first round and would have in the second had Alex not been hungry.
The flaps parted, he couldn't even look at him.
"Are you angry with me?" Patroclus pretended to not have heard him, raising his chin.
"No," he spat finally.  Achilles hid a wince, he was upset.
"It was fair," he amended, "I have no reason to be upset."
"Patroclus," he started.
"Don't waste your breath, I should be allowed back to the field," he said looking back at Alex. Again with this.
"It isn't safe for you." Why could he understand that?
Patroclus glanced up at him, his eyes a storm.
"You keep saying that as if it will change my mind," he paused to adjust their son to the other side, "I know that and I have known that from the moment we sailed."
"You aren't ready."
His lips curled up, that familiar fire rising in his eyes, "And I will never be ready. You keep saying wait and wait. How much longer do I have to wait? If I wait any longer, you could be hurt. Agamemnon hates you and has our people in line with the archers. Trojan arches, Achilles. "
Every word, rising with volume. Alexander wiggled slightly feeling his mother’s ire. Patroclus lowered his tone and slightly brushed his fingers through Alex’s curls to soothe him.
Achilles bent down to take his face into his palms, “Love, I’ll be fine. I swear it. You will be allowed back when you can beat me.” Patroclus turned his head.
He gave a low chuckle, “Achilles I have trained with you most of my childhood, I am match for most men purely because I have trained with you. Or is it because you think I’m weak?”
“No-,” that wasn’t the reason at all.
“I’m weak because I bore your child,” he gestured to their son cradled at his chest, “you think lesser of me. You think I’m fragile.”
“I don’t think that. Why are you twisting my words? I never said or implied any of that.”
“You did imply it, I have beaten you twice-nearly thrice now.”
“Through seduction and dirty tricks,” he shot back. Achilles regretted the words the moment he said them. The fire seemed to burn all the more intensely in his dark eyes.
“I did seduce you afterward, but our duel was fair. At the time you didn’t seem to mind.”
He stood with Alex at his shoulder, “ And on the battlefield, there is no such thing as fair or honorable. Only kill or be killed.” “Be fair to me and keep your word.”
The tent flaps closed with his quiet fury and Achilles groaned. He hadn't meant any of it.
When their tempers clashed, sparks flew. Achilles could be such an ass. A complete and utter ass. He had left in such a rush, that his tunic was off one shoulder. That’s how pissed he was.
“Why doesn’t he just call me as he sees me…” he mumbled. It had hurt, for Achilles to dismiss him so easily.
Alex gurgled, big eyes watching him curiously. Tiny fingers reached for his face.
"Oh my little love, I'm not angry at you," he told him taking and pressing a little kiss to them, " I could never be angry with you, ever. I love you too much. You're the most important person in the world to me."
Patroclus paused, Alex bobbled his head, curls moving with it. The tiny image of his lover, it became clear to him, Patroclus kissed his forehead. He had to keep them safe.
They could fight side by side if Achilles would stop being so pigheaded. Gods, what a stubborn man he was. Surprisingly Patroclus' hands betrayed none of his fury, instead, they were steady. The comb ran through every tangle and snag with the uttermost care. Achilles was almost afraid to break the tranquil air to ask if he was still angry.
The comb made a loud clatter. when it was set back onto the table. Achilles would have said something when he heard the opening of another box, then fingers moved back through his hair. From the motions he could tell; Patroclus was braiding it, pausing periodically.
This continued for a while, and he watched Alex crawl around until he pushed himself on his leg wanting to be held. Still not a word had past his lover’s lips.
“There,” Patroclus said at last. Achilles touched at it, two thin braids starting at his temples the rest flowing free. The cool touch of metal told him Patroclus had put some clasps in his hair.
“Thank you, my love,” he said before biting at his lips, he had to apologize.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry." They had apologized at the same time, Patroclus let him go first. Curious as to how he would do it.
"My love, I never meant to hurt you. I would be honored to have you fighting at my side; but I'm afraid for you, of the things that could happen to you," Patroclus heard the genuine truth in his voice.
" Achilles, you have nothing to fear. I'm capable of looking after myself. More than capable, I give you enough trouble as is. I promise you I will be fine."
Achilles sighed wearily, he didn’t get it. Just that short while he was on the battlefield, his nerves had been shot.
"Yes, I see how skilled you are, it’s just.” He paused before standing with Alex, " You are so precious to me, I can’t see you hurt even with something as minor as a scratch."
Patroclus wanted to argue with him further, but the pain in Achilles’ eyes spoke volumes. There would be another time to discuss this. If tonight went well Achilles could be home with for them for the winter. He wouldn’t have to fight, but doubted it would be so easy. His brother was a fool of the highest order, the Trojans would never agree to something so asinine as a truce. Not when they had them at their most vulnerable. They were short an entire right wing of men, because his brother refused to have his precious bearer in danger.His brother just had to stick his dick in one of the best warriors they had to Achilles, impregnating him. Agamemnon had thought Achilles was an idiot for getting his own second with child. At least that child had a fight to him, wanting to fight with his husband. Menelaus however refused to budge on the issue, Diomedes was not to battle. He was not to direct or even draw up battle plans, nothing but rest. Diomedes was furious with him for not allowing him to lead, but how could he. Often he was too ill to even leave his bed.
So, here they were giving the Trojans the perfect advantage. They had no reason to agree to such a truce, not when they were trapped. Winter was upon them and men and supplies were limited.
Nothing would stop the Trojans from taking an opening where they saw one. While dressing for the banquet, he had an idea. One last bid to allow Achilles to let him return to the field.
A rematch, Achilles couldn't match.
Marksmanship.
His lover was a half God that much was true, but what Achilles lacked at times was patience. And with a bow, patience not skill was required.
Patience that he had in bounds.
The meeting was to take place under a tent part way between the Greeks' camps and the walls of Troy.
Patroclus had insisted on going with him, their earlier argument nearly forgotten. He said nearly because he felt tension. As if Patroclus was leading him into a false sense of security. Like he did once when he had him leave the battlefield. Sometimes he hated how calculating he could be.
On the other hand, they had gained good advantages due to his tactical mind. A truce between them in the Trojans. He was almost thankful for Menelaus knocking up Diomedes because maybe they could go home.“Go home, don’t be foolish. You’re so close now, to go home because he asks you to. Are you that willing to throw everything away for him?” strangely the voice sounded almost like his mother now. Ever pushing him towards his destiny, a destiny that he was growing weary of. He no longer cared for glory and godhood, what he wanted was to take a ship and sail home. So his father could meet and play with his grandchild.
A chance for Alexander to be spared from this war, for Patroclus to stop being so stressed. Patroclus had no idea what to expect from meeting with the Trojans only that his stomach was tied in knots. Hector was supposed to be there.
Achilles in the same space as Hector made him sick, because it was the constant ever pressing of the prophecy against them. More sand down the hourglass, time was running out.
Menelaus wanted him to sit with the Trojans, since he had picked up their language. So here he was with Achilles on the side of him and Menelaus on the other. Diomedes was too ill to attend, and it was probably best that he stay out of sight.
Across from him was Hector, and the other Trojan nobles. Paris was again absent, hiding behind his older brother, what a coward.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Hector felt he should have more apprehension sitting across from the man destined to kill him. All he felt was peace and calmness. His wife, Andromache had screamed at him calling him a fool for agreeing to sit with the Greeks for a truce. Even Helen agreed, it spoke volumes of how much she hated her husband. Hated even the slightest hint of going back to him. If he was honest his brother was no prize himself, vain and cowardly.He swore that before all the Gods as much as he loved his siblings. Paris made him wished he had been eaten by wolves instead of being found by a kindly shepherd for all the destruction he had brought to their land. Better him dead than the ruin of their kingdom, because even as he fought to protect their city, a part of him knew Troy was to fall. But if he could help it, Troy would not fall today.So if the price was him smiling and breaking bread with his would-be killer so be it.
Achilles eyed the man in front of him, truly this man could be a match for him if the Gods had deemed it so. However, he had done nothing to draw his ire, Prince Hector and he were merely fighting a war that neither of them wanted. Going through the motions of being enemies, fighting, and retreating. It had become almost a game between children instead of a war for blood. For no land had been gained, and the only riches gained were taken were from Troy’s support cities.Patroclus was sitting so stiff next to him, Achilles wanted to reach over and take his hand. There was no need to feel stressed. it wasn’t as if he and Hector had weapons. None of them did, but truth be told he could probably kill the man with his bare hands. He just used weapons to make people feel more at ease, Patroclus especially.“Shall we began,” Menelaus said at last when the last of the meal had been cleared away.Patroclus’ main reason for being here was to serve as a spy for what the Trojans said, in case what was being said was anything but the truth. And honestly, he needed more wine, because he was bored to tears.
Gods, whoever thought to make Odysseus the leader of this shit show needed a brutal beating...Agamemnon. Because his oily voice was wearing on his nerves as they went back and forth, eventually he just started to tune him and this out. Achilles too appeared equally as bored, because his fingertips had started tracing patterns at his back. Nothing indecent, just patterns. Patroclus wanted to lean into his warm embrace and let this all sink away. More than anything he wanted to be home. Not their tent, but home. Pthtia.Hector it seemed to also have grown tired of the back and forth of talking among his nobles. All but letting his man go up against the slippery and sly Odysseus. Bickering children the lot of them. Patroclus rolled his eyes and drank a little more from his cup. Gods, would this never end?Nestor had made disagreements to nearly every solution and Agamemnon agreed with him. Stupid, greedy, old fucks. Prince Hector was ready to empty Troy of all its gold if it meant they would leave. But no, they wanted to rape, burn, and pillage the city not having it given to them.Patroclus felt sorry for him to know that his homeland was to face such destruction, and wondered why the Fates had put Achilles and him to be enemies. If anything it seemed as if they could become great friends. Gods knows Achilles could use more of those, stubborn as he is. Then maybe they could go home, he missed Phthia. Missed the warm beaches, missed their little seaside room. He hadn’t even been this homesick when carrying Alexander, why now?Throwing propriety to the wind, he let Achilles draw him further to his side. Resting his head on his shoulder, feeling drained. Between their duel this morning and their subsequent argument, and this negotiation he was tired, not to mention he would have to care and feed their babe when this finished if it finished. It was a good thing Alex was a mild-tempered baby most of the time. Hopefully, Briseis would have him bathed and put down. If not, he would do it. Alexander was his responsibility after all. Ah, he missed his little one.Hector nearly spat out his wine, luckily he recovered just in time. While it was well known that the Greeks preferred the male form, this was too much. Prince Achilles was snuggling his lover at a negotiation for a truce that showed how much he thought of this farce. The man however made him curious, darker than most of the Greeks appearing to be from Troy, not Greece. Hector subtly motioned for his closest man, one of his captains.
“Who is the man beside Prince Achilles?” he kept his voice low not wanting to draw attention to himself.
“His prince consort, Patroclus.” his captain whispered back. Hector fought not to show surprise on his face.
That Patroclus? The ruthless carrier who slaughtered twenty men with Achilles’ child. The same one who sent so many of his men to Hades outmaneuvering them with battle strategies that favored the Greeks. It could not be. He was not expecting him to appear so… harmless.
Dark eyes met his, caught he looked away.Patroclus had seen Hector eyeing him and Achilles, but he was tired. Too tired to sit up and leave Achilles’ warm embrace, it was obvious that the raids and fighting would continue as always. Menelaus next to him sighed, knowing his gesture for his pregnant lover had gone to naught. This was merely a waste of time, he had wanted to believe in it. Believe it could work not just for winter but as a permanent solution. The war was to continue, regardless. Diomedes’ battalion could be put under another’s command and they could move on. Had anyone but him thought of that solution before this. He would voice it at the next meeting, which was sure to follow this disaster. Achilles took off his cloak to wrap around him. Grateful he wrapped it around him, the wind was starting to change. Autumn was ending. Winter was coming.Just as he predicted, Agamemnon had called a council. This time, he called it on the same night, a rare first. As before he sat in the front row, an up-close encounter with madness. Achilles was impassive beside him. No doubt this mind-twisting and turning at the outcome of whatever Odysseus was cooking up.Patroclus both respected Odysseus’ intelligence, and at the same time was wary of it. He wouldn’t say afraid because that was ridiculous, but something about him gave this eerie feeling. Achilles called him a snake. Not that he wasn’t wrong, but still he could attempt to play nice with him. Of course, Achilles was never one for playing well with others, take for example the meeting where he punched both him and Agamemnon in the face. Hilarious and well deserved, but still inappropriate. Snort, Gods that was a lie. He thought no such thing, until later much later.
Patroclus was drawn back into reality when Odysseus decided to pull Achilles into the fray.
“Prince Achilles have you heard from your mother. Are the Gods still on our side?” Odysseus decided to drag him into the conversation. Patroclus too had shifted to hear his response.
“I have heard nothing from her, nor has she visited. So I assume something is preventing her from doing so,” Achilles lied. Patroclus relaxed at his side.
Odysseus watched him a moment before turning back to the room at hand.
“Tonight’s negotiations have not gone as planned, but perhaps they is still some chance to salvage it.”
Patroclus was somewhat surprised at his statement because, throughout the negotiations, he had been agreeing with both Nestor and Agamemnon. Perhaps he had changed his tune due to Diomedes being present.
“I’m going to excuse myself, I need to see to Alex,” Patroclus whispered at his ear, he nodded.
“Goodnight,” he said kissing his cheek lightly.
Achilles sighed once he left, knowing that he was to be left with the madness. And from the gleam in Odysseus' dark eyes. It was to be nothing good.Patroclus smiled at him before turning back to rocking Alex, their little one was not quite asleep but not quite awake. Achilles sat next to him, reaching to play with his fingers. Alex smiled a little in his half-awake state.
“Go to sleep, Alex. You need to rest to grow strong.” Achilles made a motion to take him and Patroclus gently passed him over. Patroclus kissed his forehead before undressing for bed. Achilles hummed softly to Alex, who still refused to sleep. He couldn’t resist the urge to kiss his forehead, Alex wriggled a little.
“Hhm, be a good little prince and go to sleep,” he muttered adjusting him in his arms. Alex babbled a little bit as if protesting. However, it seemed that every time he took another soft breath he was falling deeper into sleep. Finally, his little chest rose and fell with the signs of sleep. Achilles decided to hold him a little longer before setting him in his crib.When he held Alexander, he felt more peacefully, stable. As if there was still hope, that not all was lost. Gods, how would he tell Patroclus of what Agamemnon and Odysseus had planned. How he had been all but forced to agree with them. How Diomedes’ troops were to be added to their own. Temporally at least.“Motherhood suits you.” Patroclus startled, pulled up his tunic for modesty. Alex fussed a little but didn’t outright start bawling. Odysseus was at least polite enough to avert his eyes from his chest.
“Odysseus, what do I owe for this pleasant visit.” More like an unpleasant visit. How had he gotten in, unnoticed? The Gods know Achilles had men shadowing him at almost all hours even after he had promised to stop.
“I only came to see the little prince,” he stated making his way over to them. Patroclus could barely contain the urge to bundle Alex as close as he could to his chest. Odysseus since Aulis made him uneasy. A person who could command the callous act of letting a young girl be slaughtered like cattle would unnerve any, even less allow them around children.
Odysseus arranged people like pawns on a board game that only he knew the outcome, that is what truly made him keep his distance. The less they interacted the better.
“Is he a doting father to your child?” Odysseus asked playing with Alex’s fingers. Gods, bless his baby because where any other child would have cried. Alex seemed to challenge the man in front of him, what a silly thought. He was only eight months old.
“But of course,” he said pulling Alex away from his reach.
“I figured, but merely wanted to hear it myself.”
“ Odysseus, what do you want? I know you are not here merely to debate Achilles and I as parents. Nor here to see my son. So, I ask you again what is it you want?”
Normally one would have offered him a drink or meal to show hospitality, but his hands were quite full at the moment. That and Patroclus felt very little hospitality at the moment.
A slow sly grin worked itself way to his face.
“As you know Diomedes is expecting a child.”
Patroclus inclined his head. Surely, he didn’t come to state what was all but an open secret at this point.
“Everyone knows, I’m sure the Trojans do as well.” Where was this going? Patroclus had an idea but already had a bad feeling about it.
“Hmm, I suppose that’s true, but that leaves the matter of his troops. As I’m sure Achilles has told you already.”Never one to give Odysseus an edge, Patroclus played along.
“We have already spoken on the matter. I agree with it.”
“Good, then I see we agree about Achilles leading them with your own?”
“Achilles, you bastard,” he thought viciously. Always he was left out of the fucking loop.
“Of course.” Patroclus could only grin with him cursing that he had walked into a trap.
Odysseus satisfied that he had ruined his day, played with Alex’s fingers a little more before departing.Every time it seemed as if he wanted to broach the subject with his lover, something was always pulling him away from him. Patroclus was often attending duties in the medical tent, or within camp with Phiniox supervising the winter supplies. When Achilles did find time, they were both spent with Alex snoozing in his crib beside them. His little cheeks rosy even in his sleep.Sometimes, Achilles just marveled at how much he loved his son. How all of his little coos and gummy smiles held his heart. At the same time, guilt ate at him thinking about Alex’s older brother, the destiny he would face. The destiny that Alexander would possibly face, no he didn’t want to think about that. For now, he only wanted to hold his little one for as long as he was able.
“Achilles,” Patroclus softly called to him just as he set Alex back in his crib.
“We should talk,” he finished with a yawn. Achilles agreed.
“In the morning. We will, I promise.” Satisfied, Patroclus bobbed his head slightly before falling back to sleep.Morning came in a hazy awareness, with Patroclus already at the table. Breakfast on the table, Alex in his arms.
“Good morning,” Achilles greeted kissing his cheek. Patroclus leaned up a little. Alex’s sweet little face met his as he peered up over his shoulder. Achilles kissed his forehead.
“Good morning my loves.” Achilles saw it before Patroclus did, Alex upturning his mush onto him.
“Ack, no Alex not on me,” his love sighed at the mess.
“Why you naughty little babe, what do you have to say for yourself?” Patroclus asked Alex.
Who’s only response was, “Papa,” giggling, with his sticky hands reaching for his tunic.
Patroclus drew in a weary breath but gave in. Alexander was certainly clever; if he weren’t offered what he wanted, then he would find ways to get it.
“He got it from you,” Patroclus muttered sulkily. Achilles just grinned at him.
“No, he got his cunning from you. I would have thrown a tantrum, but he knows you won’t let him go hungry if he doesn’t want his mush. Which is why he continues to throw or spit it.”
Patroclus parted his lips as if to argue but instead said this, “ I’m trying to wean him, he is starting to nibble and I can feel the beginning of teeth.”
Achilles winced. Well, shit.
“Teething already?”
“Yes, already that, and I want him to be used me not nursing him when I go back to the field.”
“I can get you a wetnurse if you would like, let them deal with Alex’s…” he trailed off at Patroclus’ expression.
“No, it’s just I would do it longer if it didn’t hurt so much. And I hardly ever get to spend enough time with him as is, and I’ll have even less when I go back.”
Achilles resisted the urge to sigh, their same old song and dance. Patroclus wasn’t going anywhere near the battlefield. He couldn’t lose him, not like this. Not with their son just months old. Achilles couldn’t deal with that. And he wouldn’t. Ever. By Hades he would put him on a ship with Alex before he even got near a battlefield again.
“Patroclus, you don’t have to go back. It isn’t expected from you, I would never take you from Alex.”
“No, Achilles I have to…”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t have to,” Patroclus parroted back, “Then tell me Achilles why I had to hear from Odysseus’ mouth instead of your own that you were assigned to lead Diomedes’ warriors with ours. Tell me why you tell me hardly anything when it concerns this war. I have to find out through others, I thought I was your equal in all things,” he finished sharply. It hurt how Achilles was hiding things from him as if he worried about his reaction.
Achilles was stunned for a moment, “ I was going to tell you, but every time I tried you were busy with either the medical tent or Alex. I was planning to tell you this morning. Please believe me when I say that I would never intend to hide this from you.”
Alex wriggled a bit in his arms, Patroclus glanced down only to see him still contentedly suckling away.
“Why not last night?”
“I was tired. So were you.” Hmm.
Patroclus sighed, “ Then I’ll say my piece. I want a rematch from our duel the other day. I grow tired of this standstill between us because we both know I will return to the field, it’s only a matter of when.”
Achilles’ lips parted to disagree, but Patroclus stopped him.
“Let me finish. We’ll have a match in marksmanship. If I win, I can go back, if I lose then I won’t bother you with this again.” Just as he suspected Patroclus had been leading him into a false sense of security. Fine then. Achilles would just have to make every effort to thwart him.
“Deal.”
Alexander had gotten his wickedness from somewhere and it wasn’t all just him.
Thunk

His arrow sunk firmly splitting his lover's into two parts. Achilles didn't appear surprised in the least.
Saying nothing only grabbing another arrow from his quiver. It seemed as if they were going to be at this for a while. Or at least until Achilles' patience and temper ran short. No matter he had time. All the time in the world.Looking at the tree, it was a mess of split arrows and strays. With both of their quivers down to but a few arrows. Patroclus decided it was time to move to moving targets.
Which he wondered how well that would go. His lover's patience was already wearing thin. It shouldn’t be long now. Not long at all.
“Damn this to Hades.” Patroclus inclined his head in that direction. Huh, that had been quicker than expected.
Oh well, the one with the most kills was the winner. And they would have dried meat for the winter, it was killing two birds with one stone. Patroclus notched his arrow and let it fly. They would meet again at sunset.
Presenting him his neatly tied bundle of hares, only one more than his. Achilles sunk to his knees, fingers resting his waist.
“Patroclus, I will give you everything but this. I cannot grant this, I’m sorry.” At this point, he couldn’t find it in him to be disappointed, he had known Achilles would break his promise. This was the one thing he would not give him no matter how he schemed, seduced, or threw tantrums.
“Why?” was all he could ask. Achilles looked up at him through tears.
“When you first went to the battlefield, I was terrified for you. All I could feel was a nagging sense that you aren’t meant to be anywhere near a battlefield. That one instance had been tempting the Fates. I feel that I could lose you if you go back. Alexander needs you,” and quieter, “I need you.”
Patroclus remembered saying Achilles something similar when he was fading out of consciousness after he gave birth. Patroclus couldn’t even find the heart to be angry at him, not when he seemed so distressed already.
“Very well I will abstain from the battlefield,” he said raking his fingers through his lover’s curls, “for now.”
Achilles sighed in relief against him, “Thank you, my most beloved.”
“I suppose you will be keeping me barefoot and pregnant as well,” he teased, “ like a good little husband.”
Achilles snorted rising, “Never, I respect you too much to do such a thing to you again.” Patroclus laughed.
“I’m only joking, the men seemed to think it will be a reality soon,” he said rubbing at his stomach, “that I’m pregnant with your twins.”
He stopped when he saw how pale his love had gone. “You’re not, really?” vaguely gesturing to his belly.This time he snorted, “No, I drink my tea every morning before I do anything.”
“Including letting you anywhere near me,” he said, waving his hand over his body with a flourish. Achilles cracked up at that.
“I’m glad,” Achilles said, color returning to his cheeks.
“Come with me I have something to show you,” Achilles said leading him away from the arrows and leaving their bows behind.
What Achilles wanted to show him was an entire battalion of troops to train and command at his leisure. Patroclus turned to him in shock. Watching the soldiers form their ranks, his ranks now. Half of the Myrmidon army was to follow his lead.
“Achilles, how can I have them respect me if I have hardly been on the field?” he whispered.
His lover only chuckled, “ Trust me, they are grateful for you.” Patroclus would be able to give them the attention and patience he lacked without all his “ harsh training” or so he heard.
“Does it please you?” he had to know. Patroclus could have his experience of the battle all without the dangers, and he would no longer have to deal with the whining of his men.
“It does.” Patroclus had thought him thoughtful, at the same time he wondered if this was merely a distraction. A way for Achilles to keep him content without argument, because surely their men would rather Achilles train them.
Agamemnon had put Diomedes' troops under him, and he had to train them properly.Praise the Gods, their torment was to end. Achilles had placed them under command of his consort.
They could have cried from pure joy, no more training well before the Sun rose. While Achilles trained with them, he liked to push the limits of their stamina. He was a demigod, few could match him. Not even his consort, though he tried to bless him. Theo almost felt sorry for Diomedes’ men. Their prince while an excellent leader was a tyrant when it came to training.Diomedes prayed to every God he could think of to end this torment. Patroclus had made pregnancy seem so easy and graceful. Just glowing with health, driving everyone, especially his lover mad. Labor had been effortless for him as he delivered quickly and was back on his feet in mere days. Despite falling ill with a small fever.
In truth, it was Hades, pure, and simple. He deeply regretted letting Menelaus stick his dick in him. While it had felt so good, the aftermath not so much.
When he had caught Menelaus’ attention from him slipping, told him of his status. He still wondered why jealousy perhaps? Patroclus’ doe eyes were no threat, but his swelling belly had been, making Menelaus melancholy at the thought of a son.Gods, his lover was thrilled when he had told him about their child. Diomedes had hardly ever seen him so happy, and for the moment his dark eyes were devoted to him and him alone.Menelaus seemed so passionate with him, he wanted to say he loved him. Truly, but he wasn’t. They were only passing the time with each other, Menelaus had gone to war to reclaim his wife. Diomedes was here for glory. After this they would go their separate ways, he back to his country with a son, since he knew Menelaus would never claim his child. Menelaus had enough bastards, his son deserves better.His wife had borne him no children and would simply have to deal with his indiscretions. She should count herself lucky that he was not bringing home a concubine. Still might, just to spite the harpy.If only he could pick his damned head up from this bucket. Gods above, this was his punishment for mocking Patroclus.Patroclus could mock him if he wished, for he deserved it. He and Achilles were young and newly married, of course, they were taken with each other. Despite the babe between them, their passions had yet to cool. He had no right to tease them. The way they looked at one another, one could swear they had been made for each other. Patroclus was the gentle balance to Achilles’ recklessness, and Achilles answered to none except his Patroclus. Which is why he is glad his light-hearted ribbing had not gotten him punched like Agamemnon and his friend.
His humor toed the line of funny yet vulgar. Patroclus had told him as much, how his humor brightened the dullness of the meetings.Apparently, not enough if Patroclus had taken to teasing Achilles while in his lap. It had been hard to miss the erection Achilles had been sporting, leaving. All while seven months pregnant. How could he entrance Menelaus like so? Perhaps he should ask Patroclus the next time he saw him.
“Oh, Gods above,” he thought as another wave of nausea passed, “Curse you Menelaus.”Patroclus hadn’t expected to see Diomedes again so soon. Briseis had left when she had seen him, taking Alex with her. His little babe adored her, and it would give them more time to talk. He was sure that Diomedes had plenty of questions, as he did. Hera, he looked terrible. First, get him settled, then see what he needed help with.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked him. Diomedes shook his head.
“I’m fine, thank you,” he said, settling himself into the couch. Diomedes still looked a little green so he offered him a pail, just in case.
“Thank you,” he muttered. Gods this was embarrassing, but Patroclus was the only other carrier he knew. There was probably more among them, but few wanted to be ridiculed for their status. None would dare bash him or Patroclus due to their lovers’ influence, but he could feel Menelaus’ interest waning. After all, he had expected that, but no matter.Patroclus seemed to be comfortable remaining at camp raising Achilles’ son, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do the same. The battlefield is where he belonged not mothering a babe. There were plenty of women in the camp to look after his son if needed.The Myrmidons worshiped their prince and his lovely consort. For a consort, Patroclus wore no golden ornaments, only a thin band of green around one of his wrists. When he asked him where he had gotten it. He lit up.“I picked it out of a chest, Achilles gifted to me. It matches his eyes perfectly and comes from the East.” The blush that took his cheeks, made his cheeks flush. Patroclus held an innocence to him that must have driven Achilles mad. Perhaps that is why everyone was drawn to him to a degree, even himself. Antiochus held a small crush on him for saving his life, but would never admit it fearing Achilles. Honestly, he didn’t blame Achilles, if he had such a lovely person, by his side. He would never let him go.Diomedes found Patroclus holding a small cloth out to him, not even realized tears had been falling.
“It’s alright to cry. I found myself doing it often during pregnancy, especially when I was hiding it from Achilles,” Patroclus stated gently.
Wiping at his eyes, a thought passed his mind, "Surely he wasn’t crying over Menelaus’ affection for him, because that was pathetic. Why would Menelaus stay with him when the World’s Most Beautiful Woman waited for him behind the walls of Troy?"
“It’s alright to cry, it’s natural. Let it out; I won’t judge you,” Patroclus soothed, and he did. Crying for what felt like hours. When he had no tears left, Patroclus offered him a cup of water. A cool flavor hit his tongue. What the?
“Mint, to help ease your nausea and calm your nerves,” Patroclus added as he sipped at it. He bobbed his head in gratitude.
“You hid your pregnancy from your husband? Why?” When he had calmed down he was still curious about that snippet.
“ I had no choice, his mother caused me to miscarry my first,” Patroclus paused biting his lip, “And I was fearful of his reaction. For in my home country, carriers are unnatural. But Achilles’-our people worship them, so I suppose I’m lucky.”
Diomedes felt even worse for making fun of him, he hadn’t even known that Patroclus had once experienced such hardship. Miscarriage, that made him fearful subtly wrapping his arms around his belly. He was hardly showing, but he wanted to offer his child as much protection as he could. A warm hand rested at his crossed arms.
“ As I told you before you shouldn’t worry, you’re hips are wide enough. Having your child should be a breeze.”A tiny smirk lit up Patroclus’ face, “Now what do you truly wish to ask me. I’m sure your other questions are not very pregnancy-related.” He, himself had even asked a few questions to Automedon just not so explicitly as he was still so young.
Diomedes swallowed, how had he gone from innocent to lecherous in a few minutes.“You’re wondering how I kept Achilles in my bed until I had our child,” Patroclus was only guessing. He had no idea if that is Diomedes had come here for, but it had been his favorite subject in Achilles’ earshot. Or so his husband had told him.“Yes, how did you know?” Patroclus fought to keep his surprise from showing. Trying to rack his brain, how he had kept Achilles in bed, it hadn’t been hard. Really. Gods just thinking about it made him wish Achilles was back from training already. Alex was with Briseis for the moment. They could have their “training session.”
“ I seduced him,” was Patroclus’ simple answer. He fought to keep his jaw from dropping. That was it, he made it seem so simple.
“With the help of the Goddess Aphrodite,” he continued. Okay, that made more sense.
“With aphrodisiacs and rituals?” he questioned. Patroclus shook his head.
“No, I mean the goddess appeared to me and helped me seduce him back into my bed. We are her most devoted followers, her most passionate lovers.” Hera, Diomedes’ eyes were so wide, he wasn’t going to laugh. For he had once been in his place, vulnerable, and afraid.
“She even gifted us this tub. Even if the water is dirtied, it will return to being pure and streaming moments later,” Patroclus explained, gesturing to it. Diomedes at times forgot that he was the consort to a demigod prone to mingling with Gods and such. But his mother-in-law was a nasty piece of work for what she had attempted.
“Achilles made a vow when I finally told him of my pregnancy to not sleep with me until I had our child. He broke it a week later.” Patroclus seemed smug at the thought.
“So, it was you and Aphrodite who had him break it,” Patroclus tilted his head at him.
“Maybe..,” nibbling at his bottom lip, turning it even redder. It was no wonder Achilles was so jealous if this is what he came home to.
“He had already felt lust for me before she came, it’s just I had failed to seduce him properly. I had to dominate him,” he said this so casually.
Diomedes nearly choked on his water.Patroclus had welcomed him back stripping him off both his armor and tunic. He seemed too lost to even mind the sweat coating him if anything made him wilder. Sucking marks up his neck, stripping his tunic off. Drawing them towards their bed, until the back of their knees hit the side of it.
“Achilles,” he panted quietly into his neck, “can I?”
“Please,” he returned. Patroclus didn’t hesitant slicking up his fingers one by one. The first felt strange and the second had him wriggling at little.
Patroclus was sure in his search, and a moment found exactly what he had been looking for. Achilles arched up and tried not to whine.
“ ‘chilles you feel so good,” he slurred against his neck. Achilles fought the urge to flip them, fucking Hades Patroclus was absolutely the worst. Taunting and teasing him for what felt like hours, until he was all but begging. By the Gods.Patroclus drew small circles around his chest, seeming quieter than usual.
“What's the matter, love?” he asked. Dragging his hand so that their fingers intertwined.
“Hm, nothing,” resuming his circles.
Achilles sat up a little. Something was bothering him, but what?
“ Diomedes visited me today. He seemed on the verge of heartbreak.”
Achilles resisted the urge to groan, by the Gods he hated Patroclus’ new bad habit. He wanted to enjoy the feeling of being thoroughly fucked out, not deal with his husband’s new fondness for gossiping.
Achilles had seen the end of Menelaus and Diomedes’ relationship coming for a while. Menelaus was biding his time until his wife returned. Regardless of the whispers that Menelaus was going to kill her when he got her back. If he was going to kill her what was the point of this war?
Diomedes should have known better now. Even worse Diomedes would be out of the field for some time due to his condition and the time required afterward to heal.
“Patroclus, it isn't your place to worry about such a thing.”
“I know that, but I was once in his place. Afraid with no one to turn to. I wanted to at least offer him what comfort and kindness I can provide.” Achilles felt vaguely guilty, Patroclus was just being kind to Diomedes. Though he had little reason to, was anyway. His lover was often too kind at times.
“Menelaus has all but abandoned him, poor thing,” Patroclus sighed at his collarbone.
This time he groaned, before flipping Patroclus onto his back. Looming over him, reaching for his cock. His favorite way of shutting him up.
“Diomedes will be fine, something tells me, they are only having a spat.” Achilles breathed, teasing his neck with the threat of teeth.
“Just fine."The weather was still warm enough, but with Troy’s weather, few knew when it would change. Achilles was free for now while negotiations with the Trojans continued. Or until Agamemnon grew tired of Menelaus trying to work on a truce and called for the raids once more. Any day now, and the thought made him anxious but what could he do.
“Alex, come here,” his lover called breaking him from thoughts.
Patroclus chuckled watching Achilles trying and failing to catch their little son, who giggled when he got away once again. Once Alexander learned to stabilize himself, he had become accustomed to avoiding their arms, more interested in exploring the world around him.
Achilles pushed his hair out his face with a huff. Alex continued to run and laugh. Occasionally, falling on his bottom before Achilles scooped him up and off he went again.
Patroclus was merely content to count his blessings of having both his lover and child in good health.
Often he was haunted by what could have been, placing a hand on his belly. The child that could have been, had… no.
“Pa~pa,” was his only warning before Alex ran into his lap. Achilles too came over and flopped at his side.
Achilles kissed his cheek and his son pulled at his tunic. There was no place for dark thoughts today. It was a beautiful day, which he would spend here in the present.
“Hungry, my love?” he questioned and Alex’s chubby fingers pulled all the most insistently.
“Ya,” he babbled. Undoing his shoulder, he scooped him up and cradled him at his chest.
While his son found a comfortable position, Achilles leaned against his shoulder. Making faces at their son. If he disturbed this feeding, he was going to kill him. It was hard enough to keep Alex from fidgeting during it. Which led to him nibbling because he was bored, which hurt. However, Achilles seemed to live for antagonizing him when he was nursing Alex. Knowing he was limited from moving.
“Achilles,” he hissed at him through gritted teeth, “stop.” A muffled laugh rose from his shoulder. He thought he was funny. Ass.
“Sorry my love, it’s just you seem as if you are about to bite my head off.” Was it such a crime that he loved to see Patroclus being so maternal towards their child?
“Tempted, very tempted,” he muttered, turning his attention back to Alex who had predictably lost interest in eating. Wonderful, just wonderful. Just before he could enact his revenge against his cheeky lover.
His name was called, “Patroclus... Prince Patroclus.” Patroclus turned to see a man running towards them, Achilles moved to his dagger, but he held his wrist.
“Wait,” he whispered, “ he isn’t an enemy.” As the man drew closer, recognized him as a man from Menelaus’ camp. Whom he had once treated him for an infection.
The soldier panted a little more, “King Menelaus summoned you. If you could please come?" Patroclus raised an eyebrow, why would?- oh that’s right.
He nodded before finding that the messenger still hadn’t moved. Why was everyone so bent on wrecking his peace? All he wanted was to feed his child in peace because soon Alex was to be weaned from him. A thought that brought him both relief and dread.“If you could please follow me, he insisted I wait for you too.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, everyone knew where Menelaus’ camp was located, there was no need for this.
“I’ll go, when I have finished feeding my child,” he told him patiently, “ I assume this isn’t an emergency.” The man glanced down and saw his tunic was loose and nested against him was Prince Alexander.
“Oh, my apologizes, I hadn’t realized,” he rambled, trying to focus on his face all while feeling the heat of Prince Achilles’ hot glare. Staring at his consort’s breasts was enough for him to lose beloved body parts.
“Tell Menelaus, he’ll come when he is finished there is no need to wait here,” Achilles sharp green eyes offered a threat of bodily harm if he didn’t stop
“Unless you have other reasons for remaining?," enunciating every word with a threat.
“No, your highnesses. I’ll take my leave now,” the man bowed, retreating quickly.
Patroclus snickered as he left, “ I suppose you have your uses. But you still will face my wrath later.” Achilles kissed his cheek.
“I welcome it. He had no right to ogle you like that,” he muttered against him, making another face at Alex.
“Like you do”, he thought. But a lover’s gaze was different.
Alex pawed at his other nipple, he switched him.
“Greedy little thing,” he giggled, kissing his golden curls.
Well, at least his baby was happy. His heart.Achilles had taken Alex off to play while he made the journey to the main camp. Pissed that he had been ripped away precious bonding with his child.
Until Patroclus was ushered into Menelaus’ tent, and saw Diomedes in bed. His skin was as pale as a sheet, his head in so deep in a bucket. Good Gods.Anger forgotten, Patroclus rushed to his side.
Patroclus looked to his Menelaus, “How long has he been vomiting?”
The man looked nervous, “ A few moments, this is why I called you. Can you make him stop?”
Patroclus resisted the urge to smack him, call a healer like Machon, not him. Machon had delivered more babies than he had. “Get me some water, a mortar and pestle, and some mint. It will ease his nausea,” he ordered. This pregnancy had been awful on Diomedes. Patroclus felt nothing but pity for him as the stress on his body was no good for him or the baby.
Menelaus surprisingly went himself to gather the supplies, whatever. He was partly responsible for all of this.
Patroclus sat at Diomedes’ side running a cold cloth across his neck. It would hopefully stabilize things while he waited. Poor thing.When Diomedes’ nausea had subsided, he fell asleep comfortably on his side. Patroclus had pushed the bucket next to him, just in case.
Menelaus looked somber next to him.
“He is always sick, I have no idea what to do or how to make him comfortable. I apologize for pulling you from your own family, but I was desperate.”
Patroclus shook his head, “ You did what you thought was best and I do have some knowledge of how to relieve some of the more unpleasant side effects of pregnancy.”
Menelaus grasped his hands suddenly, “Patroclus I hate to ask this of you, but would you possibly deliver our child?”
Patroclus froze, he had helped Machon deliver a few of the babies born in the camps. But would never presume to know more about childbirth, as he had only been spared because Elthieyia had been by his side with Achilles keeping him grounded.
However this man looked so hopeful for his answer, he nodded.
“I will be happy to help you in any way I can.” Patroclus just hoped that when the time came, Machon would be there too. Of course, Machon was often busy and could hardly come for every birth.
Satisfied with his answer, he was dismissed.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Menelaus had grown weary of war, weary of this back and forth. Day in and day out. Blood coating his hands and clothes, stains that wouldn’t come out no matter how he tried.They were fighting for gold and a woman. A woman he wasn’t sure he even wanted anymore. Helen in all the years they had been together had never bore him a son only a useless daughter. Hermione while a beauty was only a pale imitation of her mother. Mistresses and slave girls had given him children but they were worthless. Lowly.
Then came the miracle of Diomedes, a royal carrier much the same as Patroclus young and very fertile. They had only lain together a few times when he announced he was with child. A son, finally.
Lately he could not tell where his affection for Diomedes began or where they ended. He was overjoyed about his pregnancy, but beyond that was at a loss of what to do with him.Menelaus would take him for a concubine had Diomedes not been married as well. Even if Diomedes ended his marriage, he could never annul his marriage to Helen. They could never be together. His brother wouldn’t allow it. The most he could offer him was that he would claim their son. Something his pride wouldn’t allow. Already he asked too much of him asking him to rest and place his troops in the hands of reckless Achilles. This would be the final thing he would ask of him. Gossip ran through the camps with such quickness that Diomedes could only grin and bear it. Damn him, damn him to Hades for disgracing him as such, Gods he had been such a fool.
Then that man had the nerve to ask him if he would accept the claiming of their child, he had firmly refused. His child was to return to Argos with him and would be raised as a prince not treated as poorly as Menelaus’ other children.What in Aphodite’s name had caused him to sleep with him in the first place. What had he seen in such a weak willed man. A coward, a spineless coward. Cowed by his older brother into submission. This war was no longer about Helen it was purely to satisfy Agamemnon’s ego.
Oh right jealousy, he had been enraged by Menelaus’ attention towards Patroclus. Who for the Gods’ sake had been with a child and married to another at the time. Now he knew that Menelaus had only been interested in him for his fertility and nothing more. And why shouldn’t he be jealous of Patroclus who held Achilles’ heart so firmly in his grasp. They held such a love for one another that one couldn’t help but feel inadequate in the face of it.
Well, he had gotten his wish if only for a moment for Menelaus to look at him and only him, but it wasn’t enough. Gods he felt so bitter as if his heart had been poisoned.
No, he needed to calm down such stress would only bring ill effects on his health. He needed to be healthy to bear this child and the sooner he did that. The sooner he could return to the battlefield. Placing his hand at his belly could he endure another five months of this? Was he suited to be a mother? Because the Gods know he was not gentle or sweet like other carriers he was suited to command troops not mother a child. May the Gods help his child, he would be an awful mother. “Your Highness, someone is here to see you. Should allow them in?” Automedon asked, parting the flaps slightly. Patroclus paused playing with Alex for a moment. He whined a bit his little one had been quite fussy today.
“Papa,” he cooed awaiting his attention once more.
Patroclus smoothed back his hair, “I’m here, love.”
“Who is it?” Because the Gods know if he has to deal with Odysseus and his fussy child, he was going to lose it.
“Just let me through,” a familiar voice said before the flaps were pushed all the way, Automedon was all but shoved to the side. Diomedes, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Diomedes, I hadn't expected to see you up on your feet so soon. I hope you are feeling much better,” he said as the other man plopped down in front of him. “ I’m-,” he stopped to peer at the chubby baby on Patroclus’ lap reaching for his hair. It had been months since the child’s naming ceremony, and in that short time he was already so big.
“He’s a handsome child,” Diomedes said instead. And that was the truth he was a very pretty baby with his fluffy blond curls, bright green eyes, and rosy cheeks. Patroclus laughed a bit at his praise.
“Thank you, he takes more after Achilles than he does me.”
Diomedes had to disagree, there were a few things that the prince had inherited from Patroclus. The dimples that showed when he grinned were the same. He wondered if his child would take more after him or his Menelaus. Gods, he hoped not that nose was horrendous. Red hair wouldn’t be so terrible, it would make him an even more fearsome warrior. His facial expression must have changed as Patroclus was reached over to place a hand on his forehead.
“Is something the matter? Are you feeling unwell?”
“No, I’m fine…” Was he really? Was he ready to be a mother? Patroclus seemed to know what he was doing, a natural. He on the other hand felt inadequate.
“You aren’t or else you wouldn’t have come. Is your stomach upset again?”
“No.” He drank Patroclus’ concoction of mint and water nearly hourly to keep nausea at bay.
“Do you feel weak in anyway?” Patroclus queried again, something was bothering him but it wasn’t physical. Diomedes only came to him when he seemed to be upset or bothered. It seems as if he was the only person he trusted at the moment.
“No, I’m just not sure if I’m suited for this. If I made the right decision...” he looked up to see Patroclus look thoughtfully at his child. The prince beamed at his mother again reaching for his curls. Could he hope to care for someone that small and fragile?
“I thought the same, but loving him is so easy. I knew that the moment I held him, he would hold my heart forevermore. There are days I wonder if I’m making the right decisions for him, if...
I’m doing my best.”
Patroclus looked up at him at last, “I’m not saying it will be easy, but just know that you won’t be alone.”
He felt tears come again, Gods was he going to cry over every little thing.
“Thank you.”
“Papa, play,” Alexander uttered wanting to be put down.
“Of course my love.” Patroclus said, taking a moment to set him down. To Diomedes’ get horror and surprise, the baby toddlered right over to him. Tiny hands finding purchase at his leg, wanting to be picked up. He was bewildered as what to do, he looked to Patroclus in vain only to get a smile in return.
“It’s alright you can pick him up, I’ll say I’m surprised he usually doesn’t just go to anyone.” Diomedes peered down at the child, and an instinct he didn’t even know he had compelled him to pick him up. Once in his lap the child’s small hand went to rest at his belly, curiously glanced up at him. Not sure what to say, he again looked to Patroclus for help. Once again he was met with a smile.
“He won’t bite,” he said then thought for a moment, perhaps he should take him back. His chest was certainly proof that he did indeed bite. Before he could though, it seemed as if his son was not the only one who was fond. Diomedes seemed more at ease, even when Alex’s hand went for his hair. Gods be merciful Achilles was going to get an earful when he returned, encouraging his habits still. However his son was amazing for already showing so much kindness to others. Achilles wasn’t sure what to make of the scene he came home to. Diomedes holding his son at his table with Briseis and Patroclus setting the table. Briseis and Automedon also seemed to be confused by this turn of events.
“You’re welcome to stay for dinner if you would like?” Patroclus offered. Briseis swiftly departed the moment the last dish was placed down. Automedon only stayed long enough to take his armor.
“I think I have imposed long enough on your hospitality, but I appreciate the offer,” he said passing Alexander back to Patroclus, struggling to rise. At four months he should be on bedrest, not up and walking about. Stubborn man, pride was no reason to endanger your health.
Achilles took pity on him, helping him sit again “Please join us, it is no hardship.” His love was right Diomedes was facing enough hardship already, and if Patroclus had forgiven him then the past was the past. Diomedes still looked a little uncomfortable, so he changed the subject to something he was more familiar with.
“Besides, I need to speak with you about your troops.” On the topic of war, he brightened.After dinner was cleared away, Patroclus excused himself briefly to put Alex to bed.
“They aren’t giving you trouble, I hope.” Achilles withheld a snort, they were as stubborn as could be, it didn’t matter if he was Aristos Achaion, they were loyal to their king only.
“ I wish I could say they aren’t, but they miss their true leader. I can’t fault them for their loyalty. Though I wonder why I was chosen to lead them instead of another,” Achilles fixed his sharp eyes on him. After all Menelaus could have taken the troops himself. Anyone of Agamemnon’s lackeys really. So why him? Achilles already had an idea, but wanted merely to confirm his intuition. That they were really up to no good.
Diomedes fell silent at that, before his lips parted once more. How could he phrase this.
“Odysseus asked me to allow you to. It would be something the Trojans wouldn’t expect.” Since the news of his pregnancy had spread, they hadn’t expected them to regroup instead of surrendering.
“Hmm, well if he thought it up then it has some backing with Agamemnon and the others. I suppose.” Achilles said this casually, but his eyes were still sharp. Nervously, he fiddled with his cup hoping Patroclus would return from behind the screen.
“Yes, he also approved,” he conceded at last. There was no reason to try to conceal this. Achilles had already seen through of the king’s plots to keep him in line.
“I see,” was all the prince said on that matter. Diomedes breathed a small sigh of relief, that had been intense. Agamemnon and Odysseus had no idea what kind of monster they were poking at. They sought to control him as if he was merely a child but he held the blood of Gods in his veins. He wasn’t to be trifled with.
“I pray your health has been in good standing?” Achilles asked, refilling his cup. Diomedes went to refuse the wine before seeing it was only water.
“It could be better.” The prince gave him a knowing look.
“It’ll pass with rest. Which you should be doing, you’re in no state to be walking around. Your ankles are swelling that isn’t a good sign for your health or your child’s.” One moment he had been interrogated, the next scolded for not resting enough. The thought almost made him laugh. Perhaps he misjudged him, Achilles had his moments of kindness. They both had been incredibly kind to him.
“I should go, it has grown late,” Diomedes made a movement to stand again but this time he found a warm hand helping him up.
“I’ll escort you back,” Achilles said with a tone that left no room for argument.
“I can make it back on my own, but I thank you. Thank you both for your hospitality,” he said again.
“Diomedes don’t be stubborn. It isn’t safe for you to walk alone, especially in your condition.”
“Achilles,” Patroclus said in equal parts pleading and annoyance. He was saved. At his consort’s voice the great Achilles was cowed. Pff, so it was true whatever Patroclus said Achilles was at his beck and call. All the more reason to feel even worse, of course he loves him. He would do anything for him, Diomedes blinked back tears. Again with this, this feeling of inadequacy.
“I apologize for him, he means well he just has a strange way of showing it,” as he said this cast a withering look at his husband.
“But are you truly well enough? Please allow us to escort you back.”
“I’m fine, but thank you both for your concerns and hospitality. I will be fine I made the journey here, I can return alone.”
The young couple seemed to be having an unspoken discussion with their eyes, before they reluctantly nodded.
Patroclus made once last attempt, but he gently turned it down.
The last thing he wanted was to be pitied and coddled. Even worse, he didn’t want they to see his tears.
He had been wrong unmistakably wrong Diomedes and Menelaus it seems were through. If Diomedes’ frequent visits to his lover where anything to go by. Patroclus had fretted endlessly after he left, fearing something terrible had happened to him. Diomedes must have known this because he had sent a messenger assuring them of his safe return.
“Menelaus is too cruel. How could he do that to him then callously abandon him?” Patroclus sighed against his chest. Telling all that Diomedes had told him. Good Gods, now he felt terrible for interrogating him.
“I mean just the other day, the man asked me to deliver his son and the next Diomedes is here because the king pays him no attention. What is the point of forming a truce with the Trojans if he continues to treat him like that. I mean do you see his ankles, they were practically purple! All of this stress isn’t good for his body.” Achilles let his lover rant out his frustration on behalf of Diomedes. Patroclus’ heart was so good that he got upset at the mistreatment of others. Although, even he had felt a protective streak flash through him at his treatment. Patroclus’ own struggles with pregnancy fresh in his mind, how close he had come to miscarriage. And for Menelaus to simply discard him as if it was of no consequence didn’t sit right with him. In fact it pissed him off. Diomedes was a great king and respected warrior, he had done nothing to deserve such treatment. The House of Atreus was just graceless. “Odysseus are you sure this is how you wish to proceed with this?,” she asked.
“Yes, my lady. I’m sure.”
“The Gods are not pleased with how things have occurred, even more they worry for what has changed. Do you still wish to go through with this?”
“I’m sure, I will do whatever I must for this war to end quicker even at this cost. Penelope and my son are waiting for me, I can not afford to fail them.”
“Then I will assist you where I can.”
“Thank you Goddess, I’m truly blessed by your favor.” Odysseus said bowing slightly. Gray-eyed Athena disappeared in a soft mist, and he was left alone again. Winter here on the Anatolian shore was much milder than the ones he had experienced as a child, but still just as deadly. Instead of snow, they got rain and chills that settled into the camps for days on end. The weather changing as often as the tides, one day it was sunny and fair, the next bitterly cold. Hence why so many were sick, including their baby.The day Agamemnon called for the raids on Trojan cities again was the same day Alex fell ill with another fever. He had taken the Trojan’s good gesture and spit on it. They were outnumbered and with few supplies were wholly unprepared for this winter.

Nonetheless, ill child or not Achilles and their troops were set to raid at dawn. Even in this weather he wouldn’t seek to let their troops rest. May the Gods strike him down for his arrogance and greed.While Achilles battled Trojans during the day, he fought to keep their child alive. Alexander coughed often then wheezed trying to breathe, cheeks flushed with fever. His poor baby.At night he and Achilles both sat up rubbing his back to ease his discomfort; mopping his brow, feeding him honey to ease his little throat; with Achilles humming lullabies to calm him. Their little one spit up everything even breast milk, keeping nothing down so he cried every night from either hunger or pain. They were both at a loss as what to do. Patroclus prayed each night that his baby wouldn’t die. This would be a blow from which he would never recover.
When his fever broke; they sacrificed to every God they could, even those of the enemy. Their baby had lived. Alexander had gotten sick, from what Achilles assumed was a chill. Fear ran through him, as he and Patroclus sat up night after night. Fear that their child would die.
When Alex had been born, Achilles thought he would be more like him. Never in his life had he had a cold or any type of illness, but Patroclus and Alex did. They were vulnerable to all the things, he couldn’t fight because they were mortal.
All it would take would be another chill or one outbreak and they could fall ill. Then he would never see them again. Then he sneezed, Patroclus looked up holding out part of the blanket to welcome him in.
"Love, come to bed." Alex was asleep at his chest even if he was recovering, Patroclus wanted him close. They both did.
“I’ll make him sick again,” he didn’t trust himself around their child, that one sneeze could kill him.
Patroclus continued to hold it up, "Achilles, come rest, neither of us has slept since Alex fell ill. If you continue like that you will fall ill." Finally, he gave in and settled next to him letting him brush his fingers against his forehead. Gods he was tired.
"No fever," Patroclus commented.
"Uh huh," he muttered tired. He drew Patroclus close, frowning a bit Patroclus himself was a little warm to the touch. Could he be the next one to fall ill? When Patroclus fell asleep, Achilles gently moved Alex to his cradle next to the bed so he wouldn’t become ill once more. Gods, he hated this place.

As he began to drift off that same thought floated up, "They don't belong here, they should be home. Where it's warm." Warmer than this damp place. Home with father.  
Patroclus would grow cross with him for even suggesting such a thing. Citing his pigheaded stubbornness and uncooperative nature working with others. His lover wasn't wrong, but Achilles would try for him. Anything to keep them safe.
"Go home, my love," he whispered brushing his cheek, "please." Battles were often cut short or nonexistent due to both the weather and illnesses going aroun
d, the Gods were showing neither side favour. Perhaps even they were growing bored of this game between men. No matter it gave him all the more time to spend with his family.
Entering their tent he found Patroclus nursing Alex, his cheeks rosy and full again. Drowsily Patroclus sat up slightly from his stack of pillows, "Love," he called softly to avoid waking their babe," you're back, early." Quickly he moved to pull part of his tunic in the proper position careful as not to wake their baby. Achilles wanted to snicker, he had seen it all before.
No matter how much he pulled it up modestly, he looked so seductive still. Hair ruffled from his nap, skin flushed from the brazier roaring in their tent.
“The rain is coming down too hard, it is too hard to see if you strike friend or foe,” he explained, undoing his mud and blood splattered armor. Gods, even his tunic wasn’t spared. His lover hummed and moved their little one who had woken up to his other nipple. Patroclus looked like -no, he was home. His shelter in the eye of a storm.
Achilles wanted to take him into his arms to bask in his warmth, but was absolutely filthy at the moment. Patroclus sat up further cradling Alex. One of his straps fell even lower, Gods above he was lovely.
"You're staring again," he chided, before muttering sweet things to their baby, cradling him further against him.
Achilles leaned over to kiss him, careful of their child.
"I can't help it. You're gorgeous."
Patroclus leveled him with an even glare, before flicking his forehead.
“Ow,” he whined rubbing at the spot, “ what was that for?”
Patroclus smirked at him, soothing their baby against his shoulder, “You know.”
Tease.
Achilles pouted at him a little more, he was being cruel. All he wanted was to hold his son a little while, then perhaps get very intimate with his lover later… Clean and warm, he cuddled their precious little one. Patroclus was working on something at the table. He knew it wasn’t the daily reports as they had done those together but a few days ago.
“Achilles?”, his lover called. Alex peered up at him, fingers reaching out for his damp hair.
“Mischievous babe,” he cooed, gently removing them. Patroclus wanted him out the habit, it wasn’t polite. He was a prince, he didn’t have to be polite.
“Yes, love,” he answered almost in an afterthought. Alex was very persistent with hair especially his. Patroclus didn’t respond for a moment, simply twirling the stylus around his fingers.
“What do you think of erecting more permanent shelter around the camp. Because surely we won’t last the winter without more becoming ill,” he said looking up from the scroll at last.
Achilles pondered it a moment, “We should, but the war shouldn’t last long enough for it to come to that.” And where would the men find the time to build them.
Patroclus stopped twirling it, “You still believe the war will be short, because I can promise you. The Gods have not yet gained their fill of toying with us. It will continue for more than the mere months than what others promise. You know that.”
Of course he knew that. Alex had grown in the time here since his birth into a sweet ten month old who gave the softest smiles. This had never been what he wanted, for his son to grow up in a war camp. Gods, he didn’t want it for either of them.
“Then months its shall take, in the meantime. If the fighting seems to drag on, I’m returning you home to father,” from Patroclus’ face it seemed as if he wanted to argue, so he amended it slightly.
“I’m not going to force you on this, I’m giving you a choice. You decide for yourself, but be warned your choice concerns our child as well. So choose wisely,” he finished. Alex yawned against him, Patroclus’ face was blank but his eyes were expressive as always.
“It isn’t fair to use him like against me. You know what I will choose for him, how I will do anything for him.”
“Then make the best choice for him.”“Achilles, you are being unnecessarily cruel.”
“Am I? You and I are both as stubborn can be, we could do all night, all day, all week. But ultimately, we have to make the best decision for our child.”
“You think I haven’t thought of this near daily. How from the moment I held him that I’m destined to lose him. Achilles, he will be in this war whether you or I want it. As much I hate the thought that I will lose you both, but…” his dark eyes were beginning to dampen with tears. He had been too harsh on him. Achilles came over to his side.
“I’m-” Patroclus stopped him for saying anything further by pressing a hand to his forearm.
“You’re right, I should leave but I can’t Achilles. I can’t I leave you while I’m home with our son. The son I will have to send to war. He is…” No, he had sworn that Alexander would have a choice.
“I can’t please don’t make me.”
“I won’t, I promise it, but- promise me that if things become bad sail home. Please for me.”
Those words only made him sob harder, “So when you’re dead. Gods, Achilles how…”
“No, no hush. I only mean if the war drags on past a year. A year is what…” Achilles stopped, he was only reminding him of the prophecy. Of their limited time.
“Just promise me, you’ll be happy with him, hm?”
Patroclus could only take Alex from him and nod. Cradling him as if it would protect him from all that would seek to harm him. Their little prince reached tiny hand upwards for his teary face, Patroclus had to refrain from bursting into tears once more.
Gods above, Achilles was so naive. The Gods cared nothing for him or his glory only their entertainment, that’s all they were to them. Patroclus found ways once again to occupy his time now that Achilles and their soldiers were gone. Camp was so eerie and even on the days when it was fair the winds were too miserable. So on these days he worked indoors with Phoinix on plans. Battle strategies that he would show Achilles later or how to stretch their winter supplies until the supply ships came in the spring or merchants passed through.He had yet to convince Achilles that building more permanent shelter needed to be done now not later, as he said “Where will they find the time, my love? I’m for it, but when.”
Patroclus sighed pressing his hands against his head, feeling a headache coming on. All of this was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even lunch yet.
“Papa, toy,” Alex called, blanket was abandoned to reach for his cloak. Oh, right he had straightened up their tent a bit, putting things away.
“ Yes, my love,” he said picking him up,” which one shall I get for you.”
“Luv you,” Alex said reaching for him, his big green eyes innocent. Patroclus felt tears come to his eyes.
“I love you too Alex. I will always love you,” he promised, kissing his forehead.
“Now what would you like to play with ?” A thoughtful look crossed his face.
“Ring?,” he asked. Patroclus chuckled going to retrieve it from the trunk, of course it was his favorite since infancy. Alex waited patiently for it to be placed in his hands and instantly it was in his mouth. Nibbling and chewing on it  for all it was worth. Gods, he was too precious, absolutely precious. Which is why he couldn’t stop himself from poking one of his chubby cheeks. Alex huffed at him from around his toy, but didn’t protest further than that.Perhaps he should make him more toys, a wooden set of ships would be lovely for his first birthday. Speaking of birthdays what should he make for Achilles? Gods above this place was so damn miserable. If everything wasn't damp and wet. Mud caked on everything, clinging to his legs, making his husband vexed with him for bringing it in. It had poured most of the day before and he was reluctant to go out again today. Hating to leave his family. Leave this warmth, and pull away from Patroclus asleep in his arms. Achilles kissed his forehead, when he found dark eyes sleepily gazing up at him.
“Mmh, go back to sleep, Achilles,” was his grumpy response. Arms coming around to neck to pull him back down.
“ You know I have to go,” he whispered, quickly pecking his lips.
“No,” in that short answer, petulant. Spoiled.
“I don’t want you to go,” Patroclus leaned up slightly, Achilles gently nudged him back down.
“And it’s cold, come back to bed. I’ll warm you up,” he teased, drawing him back down causing their noses to be squished together, Patroclus could hardly contain his laughter. Achilles smiled down at him fondly, before recapturing his lips. Breaking slightly, Achilles caught the mischief dancing in his beloved eyes. Patroclus shifted so that his legs encased him.An invitation.
The tent flapped open slightly, bringing a chill and they both paused.
Automedon took in the scene. White sheets and fur tangled around them both. Achilles hovering over Patroclus who clutched part of the sheets to his chest. Okay then-. He wasn’t even going to comment, instead picked Prince Alexander up from his cradle. The babe cracked his eyes open briefly to yawn against him, before snuggling back into his blankets.
Shameless, both of them.
Automedon left in a huff. Patroclus still felt the rush of blood to his face. He sighed and Achilles laughed a little before nipping at his neck once more.
On nights when the weather was milder, they would gather around the fire. Swapping stories while warm ale and stew were passed out. Nights like these, he was thankful. Thankful that Achilles was safe, and Alex was healthy. All he could ask for really. He kissed his babe’ soft curls. How he loved his little one.
“Cousin,” he heard Ajax's loud proclamation and already he knew Achilles had been dragged away. Ah his poor husband. Oh if he was here then so was Tecemessa, Alex could play with Eurskayes. They were so sweet with each other behaving as brothers not cousins. Yes, he loved nights like these. Patroclus was speaking in quiet tones to Alex, when he returned. His green eyes catching the light of the flames, dimples peaking through his cheeks as he grinned. His babe was so pretty, taking after his lovely husband. “...And that is how mankind received the gift of fire…,” he finished, gesturing towards it, “ Which you must not play with my love.” Alex’s chubby hand reached for it, thankfully his lover caught it first.
“Fire.”
“No, no my love. It’s hot, be careful.” he said kissing his cheek in apology for grabbing him so roughly. Alex made a grabbing movement for him. Achilles took him into his arms, “Hot,” Alex repeated. He was learning something new everyday. Clever just like Patroclus.
“What story were you telling him to make him reach for the fire like so?,” he asked, even if he had an idea.
“Prometheus’. The story was to caution him against reaching into fire.” Alexander pulled at his cloak, wishing to be put down. Achilles wasn't letting down for him to wander too close to the flames.
“Instead I think it only made him reach for it more," Patroclus said blowing out a breath.
He hummed at his answer, at times it was only right to reach for and take what one wanted. Prometheus' gift lead to mankind flourishing so it was only expected that the Gods wanted to keep things all to themselves. But still his little one wasn’t to be around fire until he understood it.
“Alexander,” he called softly and Alex blinked up at him cheeks rosy from the cold. Achilles bundled his cloak around them more securely, Alex didn’t need to get sick again.
“Ach,” he responded. He couldn’t stop the grin that came to his face, Alex was so incredibly precious. He called Patroclus, “papa” because he thought that was his name. Well that was as close as he could say it anyway, their sweet little one.
“Father will protect you always,” Achilles thought kissing his forehead once more, “I love you more than you can ever know.” At times Briesis found it hard to reconcile that the man who murdered her family could be so gentle and attentive towards his own. Alex’s soft giggles rose as his father pressed kisses to his face. Patroclus watched them attentively a moment a soft smile gracing his face before Automedon drew him back into conversation.The softness of the flames caught his features making his face seemed a tad rounder. She hoped it wasn’t what the rumors suggested.
Whispers and bets had began flying once more on account of Achilles again withdrawing Patroclus from the field. He had taken more and more of Achilles’ duties around the camp, supervising supplies, training the troops, looking after the little prince, and occasionally going to the main camp’s healing tent. Just as he had done before his pregnancy had become more pronounced.
But if such rumors were true, Patroclus would have already said that he was with child once more. So it was merely Achilles’ protective nature or so she hopes. Patroclus had been near death twice trying to birth his children, a third would kill him. All because Achilles couldn’t control where he stuck his cock.No matter what Patroclus said, Achilles was many things but a man wasn’t one of them. He was a monster, and would always be one in her sight. One could only hope that his son would not be the same. Achilles felt a headache probably the size of Greece building. The rain was pissing him off and the Trojans just seemed eager to meet their ends at his blade.
More than anything, he longed to be back, head cradled by Patroclus’ warm thighs. They would relieve him of his headache instantly.
“Your highness, we’ve lost formation on the left rank,” one of his soldiers reported. Achilles could feel his headache grow even more between his eyes. His left wing had moved to protect Diomedes’ troops who protected Agamemnon’s.
“Those fucking idiots.” This had Agamemnon’s cowardly hands all over this, there was absolutely no reason for them to break formation unless...
Fucking Hades.
The Trojans were finally getting sneakier, attacking the weaker points in defense. Achilles cursed a lot more, before taking a handful of his own wing to go and try to stem the damage. If they lost this ground today, it could be months before they regained it.Rain dripped down his helmet as he tried to wipe away the blood caked on his face. Patroclus would fret endlessly if he came home like this. Cuts oozing down his forehead and cheeks. Even if he couldn’t be injured for long, Patroclus would still fuss over him insisting he needed salve and bandages. Sighing, he rejoined the fray.Achilles frowned as bodies were piled into carts for burnings. The ground had been lost and he had lost forty good men. Men that had families that depended on them. His Myrmidons and Diomedes’ troops while well trained were not equipped for this like he was. Long days spent in the rain and cold. Such things wore on the spirit after a while. Even Achilles was growing weary of this day in and day out battling. Nothing was being lost or gained, but lives and dirt. A few more inches in the dirt closer to Troy that is what his men were fighting and dying for. Dirt. An advance to Troy’s wall. A city that Agamemnon wanted to burn, pillage, and rape to the ground.
A city he would claim conquered by him single handedly while in truth did nothing but wait comfortably in the middle with his cowardly men. Gods, sometimes that man made him want to rip out his throat with his teeth. Achilles had said little before collapsing into his lap, his face pressed firmly at his thighs. Patroclus understood that there would be some days when he just didn’t feel like speaking of all the horrible things he had done or seen. He only continued humming and undoing the knots in his still damp hair.
Alexander had been put down for the night, snoring softly in his cradle. Patroclus would do everything in his power to try to pull Achilles back together. Easing both this troubled mind and spirit.
“He is killing us, for what?” Achilles said suddenly from his thighs, “for dirt, Dirt. My men died so he could gain a few more inches of near Troy. Coward.”
That’s when Patroclus felt the hot splashes against his thighs.
“Dirt, gold, and treasure is what he wishes to trade lives for.”“I hate this, I hate what I have become.” Patroclus stopped combing to gently cradled his hands around his head. Trying to shield him from his thoughts and all that he had seen.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he tried. Achilles shook his head to look up at him. Eyes rimmed in red and unshed tears.
“I gave the order, I told them to protect the left wing. They died because of me. I was too reckless. Arrogant. I thought I could show them that... I’m worthy...That I'm not some mad dog that they have set upon Troy,” Achilles stopped as tears renewed, “ I failed.”
A cocktail of emotions rose up in him. How dare they use him like this and let him take all the blame. Cupping his cheeks he looked deeply into his eyes, wanting him to feel every bit of his love and affection.
“You’re no mad dog. You are my Achilles. Father of my child. The kindest, bravest and most selfless person I know,” Patroclus paused,” You are Aristos Achaion, the best of the Greeks. And fuck those that say otherwise.” Achilles was smiling by the end.
“Swearing doesn’t suit you,” he muttered, eyes still red but he was smiling. Patroclus smiled back.
“I swear when I need to make a point and that point is that they don’t matter. Nothing they say matters, don’t believe anything they say because they are lying. You aren’t any of those things.” Patroclus said, drawing him back into his arms. Achilles sighed against him.
The truth was the others were right to call him the “Mad Dog or the Scourge of Troy,” he tore apart men like nothing thriving in chaos. He cared only for Patroclus and their son everyone else meant nothing to him. Brave, he was brave because he wanted glory. Selfish because he wanted both glory and godhood. Even then that wasn’t enough, he wanted Patroclus crowned in a circlet of stars, sitting beside him on Mt. Olympus. He was wholly unworthy of Patroclus’ love and devotion, but was too selfish to let him go. To let him see him as the monster, he truly was. She had just finished distributing the rest of the stew, when Patroclus called her back to the fire.
“Briseis, Achilles is about to play a new song,” he told her, Achilles’ fingers already strumming over his lyre.
“Oh and I suppose it is about you, another ode to your beauty,” she joked, walking over to the fire. Patroclus flushed and Achilles only laughed.
“Perhaps.”
“Achilles,” he scolded The Gods know Achilles had written hundreds if not thousands about him. Not counting the filthy ones he penned about all the ways he could use his tongue. Ass. Thankfully he played those in private.
He grinned an impish thing, “What? All deserve to know how your eyes shine just perfectly in the daylight how they appear almost to be…”
“You can stop now, please I beg you. You’re embarrassing me.”
Poor Patroclus his face was absolutely red, if he got any redder the Gods only knew what would happen.
“I’ll stop, but there is nothing to be ashamed of as you’re perfect in my sight.” The look he gave Patroclus was filled with promises.
The Myrmidons hooted around them.
“...Your highness, how scandalous...”
“He just had a child but a few months ago… don’t go putting another one on him.”
Others argued that the little prince needed a sibling. Achilles hushed them.
“Do you want me to play it or not?” They hushed up like children.
Patroclus was still flushed but his smile was so bright, she could see how Achilles could never stop loving him. The moment his lips parted it was not a love song or ode to Patroclus, it was deep and mournful. Pain spilled from every note, ringing with loss. A mourning tune, it seemed that even the great demi-god Achilles mourned. No matter Briseis let the notes resonate with all her pain, all the pain from the loss of her family.
Many of the men had tears streaming down their faces. Patroclus too had his head bowed. By the end of the song, Achilles’ eyes were just as rimmed and red as his men.
“Those who have fought with us have not been forgotten, they have gained the great honor of resting in Elysium,” he spoke to his circle of men bowing his head a moment blond hair curtaining his face.
“And tonight we remember those who have fallen. Let us raise a cup in their honor.”The men agree wholehearted with him, but Breisis remember that those men had fathered children by a few of the women in her tent. Who would care for and comfort their grief.
When she headed back to her tent she found Patroclus comforting those mothers with Alex asleep in his arms. Their own children in their arms.This night being one of mourning and grief. By the next morning Patroclus found himself with a pounding headache, he had over done it with the wine. Achilles seemed fine, trying and failing to feed Alex. It seemed that Alex had inherited their pigheadedness.
Patroclus got up to lean against his shoulder, “How are you not hungover?” He felt him shrug before he heard his answer.
“A blessing I suppose. This one is hungry and being very stubborn about eating.”
“Oh, then I suppose someone won’t get their favorite.”
“Papa?,” that had captured his little one’s attention.
“You have to try eating your food before I give you any.”
“No,” his new favorite word as of late.
Patroclus picked up the bowl and spoon, “Try some, I promise you’ll like it.”
“No.”
“For me?,” he questioned softly. Alex appeared to be thinking it over before looking at his father, who shrugged.
“No.” he said at last.
Patroclus sighed and held his arms out.
“I have him, go and get ready.”
“You sure, because I think…”
Patroclus only shook his head, Alex settled comfortably against his chest. His loves, so precious.
“I have him love, he is very stubborn. The very best part of our natures.” Achilles sighed once last time, rising to put on his armor already hating to leave them.
“I love you,” he uttered kissing his lips faintly before kissing his son’s soft golden curls.
“And we you. Be careful Achilles, please.”
“I always am.” His husband snorted.
“Achilles.”
“I swear it,” he said tying on his sword.
“I mean it, Achilles,” Patroclus scolded, Alex already settled against him.
Achilles nodded and pushed out into another gray landscape.
“Owowowo,” was all he could chant while Alex made a chew toy out of him. Unfortunately for him Ajax’s story had been true, and he was no closer to weaning Alex than when he first tried to.
“Ow, Alex that hurts. You’re hurting me,” he muttered pulling him away. Immediately his face scrunched up and he was wailing.
“No, I’m not giving into you until you behave. That hurts Alex. Please be more gentle.” Alexander continued to cry, and slowly his guilt grew. His discomfort was minor to his child’s hunger. Patroclus steeled himself as he allowed Alexander back against him.
A wetnurse wouldn’t be a terrible idea right. now
 Agamemnon called yet another council, Patroclus attended even if he hated to be away from Alex. Who as of lately hated to see him leave. The topic on the agenda how to soothe the discontent building in the ranks.
Patroclus nearly snorted at some of the suggestions which ranged from hanging, beheading, etc. The list only went on to become more and more gruesome and violent. Rest the men wanted, it was so incredibly simple. Gods, they really were children. For Zeus’ sake Alexander was better behaved than this lot.
Odysseus was suggesting that they raid some of the southern cities, more gold would instantly raise their spirits. Gold, what good was it if hardly any of it was used. He knew this from experience their tent was filled nearly to the brim with golden treasures and trinkets. All that served as an ode to his lover’s valor, to him all it was blood soaked treasure even the jade bracelet on his wrist had been paid for in and by blood. He would never seek to say such things to Achilles in fear of hurting his feelings but if he brought home another chest like a cat bringing a dead bird to its owner. He didn’t even know how he would respond.
Patroclus debated if he should speak, because the only Gods knew how much Agamemnon hated when he got mouthy with him in council. In the end, he didn’t have to say a word, Achilles spoke for him.
Achilles waited until the room quieted before speaking, “ I think our efforts instead of more raids should be focused on improving the lives of our soldiers who for the longest time have followed us faithfully through mud and blood. They are owed a few nights of rest. Damn the Trojans if they want to fight then let them come to us and they shall meet their ends.”
The reaction was instantaneous, the tent erupted into cheers. Patroclus placed a hand at his arm, a show of his approval. The only approval that mattered to him. However Agamemnon was never one to let him make him lose face in front of the army.
“The men could have their rest and be back in their homeland if you would do as you’re supposed to. What the Gods have set for you.” Achilles narrowed his eyes, was he truly so bold as to throw the prophecy all but in the open. As what a threat? Pathetic.
He had no reason to kill Hector, the man had done him no harm. Patroclus had made him swear not to harm men for his own bloodlust only those who struck at him. He wasn’t going to kill a man simply because Agamemnon commanded him.
He wasn’t a dog, and he would show them as much.
It was time to settle this, once and for all. Achilles gestured to the room at hand,“I-we are doing all that we are supposed to. But tell me are you doing the task that was entrusted to you in good faith, because it seems as if you seek to dictate things that are beyond you and your understanding.”
For a moment it seemed as if Achilles shone but whatever it was, was gone. The air however felt charged. Dangerous. No one moved nor did anyone breathe. Agamemnon looked spooked. Patroclus felt sick, Achilles had used that voice again. The voice tingled with power that could make anyone bend to his will. The Gods’ will. Gently to calm both himself and his lover reached for his hand squeezing his fingers. It appeared to draw him from whatever had come over him.
Tugging him back downwards, he waited for him to calm down.
Slowly the room came back to itself, but the scent of fear prevailed the room. Even he had to wait for his heart rate to return to normal. How he hated that voice hated what it reminded him of Achilles’ destiny of the price he would pay for immortality. But more than that, he hated it because he feared Achilles would slowly become more like them. Selfish. Wraithful.
The council continued, but the energy wasn’t the same and after some time Agamemnon dismissed them.
“Oh my love what have you done. They may come to fear or even hate you.” Outwardly he said nothing but held him close on the way back to their camp.
Patroclus’ grip on his arm was both reassuring and smothering, he had nothing to fear. He had only done that to put Agamemnon in place. Agammenon and his minions sought to make him into a monster, then a monster he would become.
Mere hours later when they had put Alexander to bed, a messenger came. Raids were to be ceased until further notice.
Achilles seemed incredibly pleased that he had successfully bent Agamemnon to his will. He was less so. It felt as if everything was coming to a head, that this was only the beginning.
“Achilles,” he started then stopped, “Nevermind.” It would be contradictory to his previous oath.
Achilles took his hand into his, “Don’t worry my love. You have nothing to fear I only did that to show them that I’m not to be trifled with.” He wanted to believe that but if his dreams were anything to go by.
“I have everything to fear, everything to lose. Achilles, I could lose you. I will lose you whether I want it or not. They will make sure of it.” Whether it be Odysseus’ poison or the Gods’ promises.
“You speak things of madness. Of Gods and monsters, Patroclus.”
“I speak the truth.”
You know this, I know this, Achilles. Alex’s fate. Our fate, is unavoidable. I knew this from the moment I boarded that ship.”
“You told me, that we could steal moments together, delay Fate.”
Achilles intertwined his fingers with his,“Yet, now you say otherwise. Which is it my love?”
“I know how this ends. Achilles, it will happen whether I want it to or not.” Patroclus looked away from him, curls bouncing into his face.
“ It won't happen unless I let it.” Patroclus gently freed his hands instead crossing them over his chest as if guarding his heart
A faint echo of a different time, it felt like eons ago.
“ I was naive to think otherwise. I was young and foolish. Now…” Patroclus cast a glance at Alex asleep.
“ I fear.” His bright eyes were clouded with such pain.
“ I fear so much, Achilles. I dream of such horrible things,” he blinked pushing the tears away for a moment.
“What do you dream of?”
“Horrible things, I do not wish to speak of. I would wake up screaming if not for you and Alex safely beside me.”
“You dreamt of symbols of death, of prophecy?" His lover nodded.
“I-I’m unsure of what they mean. I only know that it was a message, a sign.”
“I dreamt of things often when I was carrying Alex. My childhood on Opus. My mother's unworded lullabies, our years together, but it is as if they are corrupted. Nightmarish even.”
“Perhaps you are with child.” Achilles dreaded if that was the case, another child would kill him. He was too fragile, too mortal. To precious to lose.
Again his lover shook his head.
“I bled.” Achilles wanted to cry from relief. Patroclus grasped his face so suddenly to pulled him into a kiss. Desperation and despair sealed it. Achilles tasted his grief, his tears, his rage, and a smidgen of hope. His dark eyes were liquid when they parted, a few tears had already escaped. Achilles gently thumbed them away. Gods, he hated to see him cry. It broke his heart every time.
“Don't kill Hector. No matter how much Agamemnon, Odysseus, or any other urges you to. I ask you this not only as your lover, but as the bearer of your son. Achilles, please.”
Achilles would never seek to cause him distress or anguish. However how long could he avoid his fate? Their fate.
“I would never break a promise, especially the one I have made to you.” Achilles breathed against his curls. Patroclus said nothing, but he heard his sniffles.
“After all what has Hector done to me?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing,” Achilles repeated picking up his chin. A small smile finally made it to his face.
“Come to bed, you need to rest it’s late,” he proposed. Patroclus sighed but crawled in next to him. They could both sleep in tomorrow.
Patroclus could hardly believe the sight, snow covering every inch of the camp. Stepping out into it, was instantly taken back to their childhood in the mountains. This would be their little one’s first snow.
“Alex, come see the snow.” His little one wobbled over to him marveling at the cold and wetness of it. Much like he had when he first saw it.
“Pwetty,” Alex said, holding out a hand to catch flakes. Patroclus wrapped his cloak further him around him, it was time to go back inside. Alex could get sick again.
“Isn’t it, but its cold.”
“Cold?” he asked.
“Yes, it's cold. We have to go back in for a while. Okay?”
“Okay.” He would take him out to play later when he was sufficiently dressed. For now he would add more wood to the brazier and hope the wind wouldn’t pick up.
Alex wandered over the bed where Achilles waited to bundle him in furs.
“Wasn’t it pretty, my son?” he asked smoothing his curls from his face.
Alex smiled, “Pwetty.”
“We’ll go to play in it later and we can throw snowballs at Papa. Would you like that?”
“Yeah.” Patroclus smiled a little.
Setting Alex until he was in the middle of them, “Or instead you could throw them at your father,” he suggested Alex smiled again. Gods, he was so happy, they were all together. Achilles was home, things were so perfect. At least for now. He would be happy with this. While going through inventory list for the winter supplies, a sudden thought appeared. It had been awhile since he last bled. Rising away from the table, his hands wrapped around his waist, could it be? Patroclus nibbled at his bottom lip. They had been less than careful, he had been less than careful. And with him home more often…
Alexander had just started walking and talking in mostly full sentences. Could he go through that again?  It wouldn't be so horrible, Alex would have a sibling and playmate. 
"Patroclus," he turned seeing both Achilles and Alex. Both of their cheeks and noses flushed red from the cold. Achilles set Alex down and instantly he came to his side.
"Papa, up," he called. Mindlessly his hands slipped from his middle to pick up their child. Cuddling him to his chest, he drew a breath.
He could feel the heat of Achilles' eyes on him, but didn't want to see his expression just yet.
"Are you-," Achilles didn't even want to ask. Images of the last two times, ran through his mind. Blood, so much blood.
Dark eyes met his at last.
"I'm not sure." The only way to know for sure is if his moon blood came, otherwise.
"Oh." In that one word, Patroclus heard fear. Fear for him.
Alex reached at his hair, pulling his attention to the child in his arms not in his belly. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Achilles. Already guessing part of his thoughts, Alex's birth and what followed. Even further back to that day on Mt. Pelion. Now that he knew the truth.
Achilles and he both knew of grief. A grief that hung over them both, for the child they would never know. Which was why they were so protective of Alex, fearful of him being hurt.
Achilles said nothing of what was on his mind. He was secretive like that, but wrapped his arms around him and Alex both.
Silently apologizing for what he had done to him. There was nothing to apologize for, it would be if it was to be. A week later, his bleeding came. Horrible as always, but the pure relief in Achilles' eyes made it hurt less.
Yet when looking at the blood staining the cloth, Patroclus wondered why all he felt was a vague disappointment. Achilles wondering if Patroclus hated him staring while he wiped away the blood from his thighs.
If he did, he hadn't voice it. Such a gruesome process it was and while he hated that his love was in pain. The sight relieved him because it meant his lover was in no danger of bleeding out in childbirth.
Alex wiggled in his grasp wanted to get to his mother.
“Papa, hold me.”
"Hush, Alex, I’m here," he murmured drawing him more in his arms. Alex didn’t want him, he wanted Patroclus.
“No, papa.” He was this close to throwing a tantrum if he didn't get him soon.
When he was done replacing the cloth, Patroclus held his arms out for Alex. Happily, he went to him. His lover brushed through his curls, kissing his forehead.
"Hello, love." he greeted softly, but his tone was strained. Tired.
"Papa," Alex called, adoring his attention.
"Patroclus, I can take him," he told him reaching for their baby. His lover’s face scrunched up briefly in pain before it smoothed.
"No love, he'll start to cry. It’s better if I hold him."
“Then at least sit,” Patroclus all but collapsed next to him. Wincing as he did. Briefly Achilles wondered how he had hid this from him when they were children. Month after month of this, his poor love. Achilles held him as close as Alex would allow. Possessive little thing. He laid his head on Achilles’ shoulder, sleep would help. Alex pulled at his curls, but he was too tired to scold him. Achilles gently moved his hand away.
“Love, what can I do for you?” he ventured, hating to see him in any form of distress or pain. Anything he needed. Patroclus just sighed against him.
“Hold me, just hold me. It hurts,” he breathed. Achilles didn’t even hesitate to draw him against him further. Fingertips gently pressing at his side.
It hurt so much, Patroclus didn’t know what was worse the cramps, or the disappointment. Perhaps, it was best.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Achilles’ whispered apologies did nothing to alleviate his mood. In fact, his heart sank even lower. Patroclus said nothing only drawing Alexander closer to his chest. The words would not come. What could he even say? Nothing, he could say nothing as Achilles once again donned his armor. There was nothing he could do or say to make him hear reason. To keep him here.  After Achilles strapped on his sword, he kisses them both. Then he was gone, back into the chaos and bloodshed. Patroclus stands there longer than he would like to admit staring at the flaps, until Alex begins to fuss. Softly strumming his fingers through his baby’s curls, hummed a soft lullaby to soothe him. So he will wait and pray. Pray his lover returns to him safe and sound.A truce had been agreed upon but not in the form he and the others expected. A truce suggested by the honest and pious Prince Hector. Days were to be set aside to bury and mourn the dead, to give the Gods their piety.It should have made him happy, that he would have more time with Achilles. Yet, it didn’t ease his heart any. If anything had only made it heavier, each time he left it weighed upon him. They were only borrowing time, because at any moment. Patroclus closed his eyes, no. He would-couldn’t dwell on such thoughts. 
Patroclus drew in a shuddering breath. He had responsibilities to attend to. Paperwork, healing the sick and injured. But the most important of all.“Papa” Alex called tottering over to him. He landed on his bottom but was eager to stand again. His heart squeezed at the sight, already he was walking and talking. They were both so proud.Alex fell on his butt once more, Patroclus expected him to cry, instead, he laughed. A sweet sound that made him smile. Alex went to stand again this time his arms were ready, Alex fell into them.“Look at you, my Alex,” he cooed at him, “ You’re getting better at walking aren’t you?” Alex glanced up to smile at him. Patroclus could see his dimples reflected at him in those chubby cheeks.“Yeah.” 
Patroclus kissed his forehead and assured him, "Don't worry my love, soon you'll be able to walk and run without falling." And for a moment his mind was taken off of Achilles.After such a miserable winter, Patroclus had expected Troy to thaw and dry itself. Instead, spring showers poured making the camp as mucky as a pig’s pen. And by the Gods did his son love to play in the mud.  Achilles was no better, tramping in with his muddy sandals. But then again at least he hadn’t tried to put it in his mouth. Of all the days, this was the day Alexander decided that he was going to roll in the mud. It was in his hair, smeared across his face, and covering his tunic. Poor thing, he looked as if he had been through it had it not been for his smile. No matter, that’s what the tub was for. 
“Alex, come here,” Patroclus called to his giggling baby. Alex had successfully dodged his attempts to get him into the tub.
“NO!,” he shouted, cheeks flushed, his hair wild in every way. All of his father’s wickedness had finally started to show. 
After a moment, Alexander calmed down and shyly came over of his own will, Patroclus cuddled him, getting mud on himself in the process. Oh, he could never find it in him to scold him, especially with how cute he looked. Hera, he was becoming just as bad as Achilles. When he came closer to the tub that is when the trouble began.
"Alexander, we have to take a bath to gain and maintain the favor of the Gods," Patroclus explained to his wiggling babe, hoping to calm him. Not that it ever did them any good, but.
"NO, bath." Alex screeched. Patroclus just sighed, dangling him over the tub.
"NO!!" Patroclus sighed again, drawing him back against him.
“Alright, then my dearest, no bath.” He soothed cradling him. Unfortunately for his son, the festival was tonight, and he was getting a bath whether or not he wanted one.Automedon and he had finally calmed Alexander down long enough to dress and prepare for the festival. 
News had come earlier that Achilles and the others would be back past sunset. The festival would be delayed. Nonetheless, Patroclus had his clothing ready and the bath was always hot.
While he cradled Alex, Automedon was helping him to finish getting ready, nothing spectacular. Just some gold armbands and his favorite jade bracelet at his wrist. Then Automedon had insisted that he wear the golden circlet for the festival. And remembering Achilles’ groan against his neck.

“You look so beautiful in gold and nothing else.”

He agreed, trying not to blush. Gods, Achilles wasn’t even here, yet he held him so spellbound.
So he was trying to keep Alex calm while Automedon tried taming his wild curls so that the gold circlet would shine at his forehead. A kind gesture, but they would find ways to escape the metal. 
Automedon was quiet until he asked something that made his cheeks flush even more. “Patroclus, I mean no disrespect when I ask this. But how often are you and the prince intimate?” 
“Often enough.” Patroclus decided it was better not to lie, as everyone knew. Automedon hummed as the comb pulled out a tangle. Ow, that hurt.
“And you haven’t found yourself with another child?” Alex was slowly falling asleep in his arms, and he wondered if Briseis would keep him. He would hate it so much if he had to wake him up, only to have him cry the entire time. 
Patroclus softly shook his head, as not to wake Alex, “No, I haven’t surprisingly.” He wasn’t going to bring up the fact that he had been late and how Achilles had been horrified at the thought, not out of maliciousness but fear. 
Automedon hummed at that, before posing another question “But you hope to have another child in the future?” 
“Perhaps, but not now,” he sighed, “There is too much going on. I would hope to have another child were things are calmer. And besides Alex is already so spoiled for my attention.”
Alex stirred, unconsciously he brushed a finger against his soft cheek, still flushed from his tantrum. His miracle, his joy.
At this Automedon nodded, holding up a mirror for him. Patroclus glanced at it apathetically there was nothing new about him only that his curls were tamed for… now. Achilles would no doubt ruin that before the night’s end. He thanked him, rising to placed Alex in his cradle. Let his baby have a nap before he was forced to endure the rituals. Automedon stood off awkwardly to the side shuffling his feet.
“I apologize, I hope it did not seem to be as if I was trying to embarrass you. It just that… I noticed the herb jar was full. I assumed…” Automedon stuttered out.
Patroclus wanted to laugh, everyone and their mother knew how he and Achilles were not shy about their affections for each other. For Hera’s sake, bets were being placed based on if he fell pregnant this year or next.
As for if it became a reality, he left it up to the Gods. He and Achilles had been blessed with a beautiful, healthy child; he would not be so greedy as to press the Gods’ favor. Not to mention how uncomfortable pregnancy had been. Labor even more so.
Patroclus gave his friend a warm smile, “I promise you did no harm. You were only concerned.”
“And I promise you’ll be the first to know when I'm. Though I must say I’m surprised,  I didn’t think you were the gambling type.”
Automedon made a small noise of defeat, while his friend snickered.Achilles wished they would hurry up and decide what they wanted. He had already sent a messenger ahead to tell Patroclus he was going to be a bit late, and every minute he had to be away from him the shorter his patience grew. The raid had taken no time at all, the village surrendering the moment they saw his banners. A thought that made him feel guilty, but relieved because for once he would not go back to Patroclus reeking of blood. He would be able to hold and kiss him without guilt. Agamemnon was being particularly greedy today, because his troops had the best treasure. Raided from a very wealthy noble. Usually, he would argue with him about his share, but he was more content to let him have it. Patroclus’ and Alex's gifts were secured around his waist, hidden in plain sight.
Once Agamemnon had taken his fill, Achilles let his soldiers have the rest. He had more than enough treasure to fill the treasury twice over, and besides Patroclus had seemed exasperated with trying to find room in their tent. And it never hurt to have his men pleased. His father had taught him that. 
“Keeping soldiers in line is no more than knowing what they are willing to endure… This my son is why you must always be fair and upright to your men. Reward them when they have done well… If you do this they will be loyal to you.” Something their esteemed leader had failed to take into account. Whatever, Achilles longed for nothing more than to be with Patroclus and their sweet babe.
Agamemnon could have it all, he would give Patroclus something grander than gold one day.
"Your Highness are you ready to depart?" Achilles nodded letting Automedon take the reins.The moment he laid eyes on Patroclus, his heart stopped for a moment. Good Gods above he looked divine.
"I haven't seen you wear that since before Alex was born." How beautifully the golden leaves fit in Patroclus’ curls, and how they sought to escape its constraints. And they would whether it be on their own or by his hand. 
Patroclus hummed, still not looking up from his work " You mean without the kohl."  
“Yes,” he was trying to keep the want out of his voice. 
Patroclus finally rose and he was free to take in his beauty. Achilles wasted no time in taking him into his arms. 
“Achilles,” his lover admonished, looking up eyes appeared as dark as the night sky. His lips as full and red as ever. Dark skin glowing in the lanterns brought out further by the white of his chiton, and the gold glimmering at his forehead and wrists. Beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. Achilles would worship him forevermore.
“Yes, my love?” he breathed, as his hands wrapped around his waist drawing him even closer leaning down to kiss him. Patroclus fluttered his lashes as he leaned up to kiss him. Achilles further deepened it by lifting him by his thighs, savoring the taste of his mouth.
“Achilles,” Patroclus panted quietly when they drew apart,  “Don’t wake Alexander up.”
“I won’t,” he promised, trying to recapture his lips. However, Patroclus avoided it, walking over to the tub.
“You have to get ready, so come here.” Achilles dutifully went over to him. 
“Strip,” he ordered.
Achilles raised an eyebrow, so demanding. But did as he asked, enjoying the way his eyes trailed down his form.
_________________________________________________
“You should have waited, we could have taken one together,” he suggested as Patroclus’ fingers slippery with soap combed through his hair. 
He snorted.
“If I had, we would be even later to the ceremony.” Achilles was so tempted to just pull him into the water and-
Achilles sucked in a breath as the cold water licked at his skin. From his wet bangs peered up at Patroclus whose hands still held the pitcher posed high. 
“Come on now, don’t dawdle in the tub. I still have to get you dressed and braid your hair,” Patroclus said this seriously but he could see a smirk threatening to break free. Achilles hadn’t wanted to do it, but now he had to. It was a matter of principle. Of pride.
“AC-hiles,” Patroclus started in a near shriek before remembering Alex was asleep.
His grin grew as he tucked a curl behind his ear, Patroclus on the other hand just glowered at him. But before he had a chance to scold him any further, let his hands close the space between them. Patroclus’ fingers going into his curls...
“We are going to be late.” Was all Patroclus said, while he nuzzled against his neck. His tunic already spilling off one shoulder, Achilles’ hand pushing it up his thighs. She was almost regretful that all of her handmaid's work had gone to waste. On the other.
 Patroclus was biting at his lips to stem his loudness, Achilles was paying him no mind at all, while the water rose and fell around them. The way he held him, made her sigh as she absorbed their worship of each other.
“My~my what a passionate couple,” Aphrodite giggled, watching the lovers. She had made Patroclus too enchanting, leaving Achilles with no choice but to get him wet.
“Thetis isn’t going to be pleased if she finds out you messed with her precious son again,”  a voice startled her, before she realized it was only Athena.
Aphrodite rolled her eyes before moving away from the fountain.
“Neither of them are under my influence. Their feelings are just that pure. ” That and they were so young.
Athena hummed at the image in the water, “ You must take me for a fool, Aphrodite. You and your handmaidens did something. Just as you did before. At this rate your blessing will come true,” she stated settling herself across from the Goddess of Love and Fertility.
“ Then not even Zeus will be able to help to spare you when she finds out. Even more so if he finds out…”
Aphrodite scoffed, “Pray tell what will the King’s cupbearer do. I’m an Olympian, I’m untouchable.”
“No one is untouchable, not even us. Sister you would do well to remember that.” The recent power struggles and bitterness that prevailed the court was proof of that.
“No, but I hold the power over love, lust, and fertility. Zeus would dare not cross me for Thetis. After all…, she paused, studying her nails before looking up at last. “ We all know Hera would crush her like a bug if she dared to disrupt the natural order again and besides who else would enchant his lovers.” Zeus made a mockery of her duty of love and lust until he wanted the attention of a mortal. What he didn’t know was that love and lust could never be forced if it wasn’t already there.
“Aphrodite, I will only warn you once. Whatever you have planned. Stop it.” Already much had changed due to their child’s birth, another would send the Gods into an uproar.
Her violet eyes seemed to gleam all the more, she loved a challenge. 
“I have no reason to,” she said stretching on the chaise, “ I have already won everything that I have wanted. Everything will come as I command it, I’m the most beautiful Goddess of them all. ” Fates had foretold it, Patroclus was Achilles' downfall. They all knew it, it was why Thetis had tried so desperately to keep them apart.
A slight haze of red overcome Athena’s vision but she reigned in her emotions. Aphrodite was always so flighty and free. Careless.
“At what cost? You started a war for your vanity.” Aphrodite laughed then. Pretty but no less biting. 
“Are you are so above it, Athena? You were there if I recall correctly, along with me and Hera for the title of fairest.” She stood so quickly from the sofa of pillows. Aphrodite regarded her bored, but her eyes held a sharp edge as she continued.
“The Goddess of Wisdom and War hoping to be chosen by a man, a mortal man” her face contoured as she sneered at her, “ A virginal goddess no less, or do you finally wish to rid yourself of your virtue?”  Aphrodite couldn’t help but taunt her. 
“Your little hero would be the perfect candidate, if you wanted I could petition Zeus on your-” She had no chance to finish before Athena’s hand smacked her clean across the face. Hmm, it appears as if she had hit a nerve. Wiping the blood away continued.
“I’m right aren’t I-,” this time she blocked the blow. Aphrodite looked up watching her struggling as she held her arm. Please, she had been formed from the blood and flesh of a Titan, not just any Titan but Cronus. 
 "You wish to think you are above me because I give myself to pleasure and pursue lovers as I please, that I’m weak and frivolous. You are no different. You try to hide behind your wit and armor, and chastity when we are the same. We crave their approval, their love. But do we truly have it? Ask yourself this sister.”
“And when you have an answer,” she breathed her eyes glowing as the bones snapped under the pressure, “then you may interfere.” 
Satisfied she dropped her arm, Athena glared at her as she retreated to the doorway.
“You and I both know they will not have happiness together.” she spat. 
Aphrodite gave a bitter smile towards the water “ , Yes, but that is what makes them so special. They know what is to come, yet they will try to beat the odds anyway. They will always find away, as they were fated from the beginning.”Dripping wet, and boneless, he slumped against Achilles’ chest as they both tried regaining their breaths. His clothes had been ruined and guessed that his hair was the same.
All of Automedon’s hard work for nothing.
Yet, Achilles’ lips still marked kisses up his neck, while his hand caressed him so tenderly. Patroclus wanted nothing more than to give himself back to his very capable hands, however.
“Achilles,” he groaned, removing himself from his grasp, “if this continues we will be late.”
His emerald eyes lit up with a sly look, “We are already late, what’s the harm in being even later?” 
Patroclus seemed to contemplate it, before shaking his head drawing away from him.
Water dripped from his tunic as he stepped out of the tub, Achilles groaned quietly but got out as well. However their limited time didn’t stop him from stealing a kiss from him one last time 
________________________________________________
Alexander was completely taken by Patroclus’ circlet, chubby hands never straying far from it, as they walked to the main camp. His coos and babbles made his lover smile and squeeze him a little closer. Achilles hid a smile as he tugged at another one of his lover’s dark curls, trying to pull the gold free. 
“Pwetty,” his baby murmured this time going for his mother’s face. Gods, wasn’t he just breathtaking. Patroclus lightly drew them away, brushing through his soft blond curls.
“Thank you, my love,” he said kissing his chubby cheek, “You look so handsome.” Alex beamed at his mother. 
“Yeah.”
When they arrived, Achilles kissed his lover’s cheek before going to the stone altar. The sooner, they gave honor to the Gods, the quicker they would be to return their favor. However Achilles didn’t know what good it would do them to pray to a God of the enemy but nonetheless. He had a personal debt to settle with him.
_________________________________________________
Patroclus had dreaded waking Alexander up for the festival in fear of tantrum, but his son had been bright-eyed and curious as he took in everything. The laughing children, and the smells of meat being cooked. 
“Pwetty,” his son told him pointing to the warm glow of the fire. Alex was enjoying himself, but as he wandered around with him at his shoulder. He had seemed to have grown a little fussy, tired of him carrying him. 
“Down?” Alex asked. Patroclus debated it, Alexander seemed to like no love fire and Gods help him if his little one got hurt in any way. Alex pulled on his hair again getting his attention once more, Patroclus decided.
“Well I suppose,” his answer was part no and yes. He let Alexander down but kept a tight grip on his hand as he led him through the festival. It was dangerous to let him wander around the main camp.
Patroclus found Automedon near the back of the tent, a cup of wine in hand. Alex was back in his arms against his shoulders, drowsy. Poor thing, he was already sleepy. 
His blue eyes lit up, “You finally made it.” Patroclus raised an eyebrow, but accepted the cup.
Hadn’t they seen each other earlier? 
“I can take him, if you would like?” he offered. Patroclus was about to answer when the horns blew summoning them to the altar. 
Automedon was still waiting, but he shook his head and carefully made his way to the altar. While close to it, he kept a safe distance from it, especially with Agamemnon at the helm of any ritual. He was even warier with his lover so near it. Patroclus glanced backward, he didn’t see Automedon anymore, he supposed he was lost to the crowd. Speaking of which the crowd had fallen silent as the priest led the animal to the altar.Agamemnon stood posed with the dagger at its neck, Achilles stood at the side with Odysseus and Menelaus. He craned his neck to see if saw Diomedes but he was absent. Patroclus looked away for just a second and started to hear the crowd cheer. He glanced back at the altar to see Achilles crouching near the animal’s cutthroat with a stone bowl. Blood spilling into it, the fat priest that presided over the last sacrifice in Aulis took it. Raising it above the altar, before pouring into the fire, the stench of burnt blood made him gag a little.“Apollo, we humbly offer you this offering in the hope you grant us your favor,”  Calchas droned. The fat priest always gave him the chills, with his bulging blue eyes. Even more chilled by how they seemed to glow in the firelight as if he embodied the Gods’ in him, waiting to cast judgment and ruin lives.
Something touched his elbow, startled he turned to see it was only Tecmessa with Eurskayes at her hip.“Your highness,” she started inclining her head towards him. He wouldn’t let her, “Please just call me Patroclus. We’re family, there is no need for such formalities.” As he had told her time after time, their sons were cousins. There was to be no divisions of status in their family.She smiled softly, “Of course, Patroclus.” They both smiled when they saw Alex and Eurskayes reaching for each other. Seeing that the sacrifice was over, they went to sit to allow their sons to play. As they sat Tecmessa taught him a few more words in Anatolian. He blushed as she taught him words that were only spoken between lovers. She laughed at his expression, ribbing him that he was already a mother yet he still blushed like so when it came to intimacy. Tecmessa and Ajax were a perfect match as they both loved to speak their minds and joke around.“It would drive your husband mad if you spoke like this. Gods know it drives Ajax mad.” He only blushed again, at this point he wondered if it was the wine or Tecmessa’s increasingly intimate Anatolian lesson.“You’re too easy to tease,” she said, bumping her shoulder against his. He supposed it was a little true. The Gods know Achilles had been an absolute terror when he had desired his affections. It was as if his thoughts had summoned both of their mischievous lovers. Achilles wasted no time in kissing him full and deep. Patroclus let himself practically let himself be taken into his lap. When they broke for air, he slid off embarrassed, glancing over he found Tecmessa was in Ajax’s lap feeding him meats and grapes paying neither of them any mind. Achilles glanced at him hopeful, he flushed even more. By the Gods, he was going to die from the heat building in his cheeks. However, before he had a chance Achilles had already made up his mind to feed him instead. Pressing another glass of wine to his lips. He took it, letting his eyes drift to where Alex and Eurskayes were playing under Automedon’s watch. Deeming them safe, placed his cup at Achilles’ lips letting him take a sip. Playful flirting, harmless really. Achilles had more than had his fun earlier.Patroclus wriggled slightly when Achilles’ drew him back into his lap. This time there was to be no escape as he locked his arm around his stomach, keeping him there. Maybe it was the wine, but he wholeheartedly started returned Achilles’ kisses. His touches even more so. Perhaps it was time for them to depart.The waves were calm as they beat against the shore, it was a beautiful night. Made all the more beautiful by the sound of their son’s laughter. 
Alex giggled as they swung him between them, his feet skimming the sand. Patroclus could hardly control his smile, his little one was already so big. It seemed just yesterday, he was walking down the shore cradling him in his swollen belly.
“Down,” Alex shouted when he grew tired of them holding his hands. The moment he was sent down he wandered over to the waves, his tiny toes digging into the wet sand. Achilles and he rushed to his side. 
“He is drawn to the water, my love,” Achilles explained to him sitting in the sand next to Alex, who marveled at the cool water
“We both are. It calls to us like a second nature, it won’t harm us. So don’t fret my love.”
“You too were drawn to it when you carried him, weren’t you?” Achilles asked him when he saw that he was still standing, staring out at sea.
Patroclus swallowed, how had he known. The brief moments he had been near it he and Alex had both felt calm. Achilles outstretched his hand, “Come sit, I’ll protect you.” At that Patroclus took it and knelt next to him in the sand, enjoying the way the cold water lapped at his knees. Alex was happy splashing him and Achilles. Neither of them thought to scold him, he was too cute. When they were sufficiently soaked and sandy, he stopped. “Cold,” he told Achilles climbing into his lap, “it’s cold.”
His lover only chuckled, “Of course it's cold, my son. It is the sea.” 
“Sea,” their babe repeated.
 Achilles nuzzled him further in his arms, “Yes, my love the sea.” That seemed to soothe their son’s curiosity and he toddled back to standing in the waves. It must have been too cold because soon he was back.
“Cold,” he told him stretching his arms upward, wanting to be picked up. Patroclus took him scenting saltwater in his hair. He refrained from a sigh, Alex was going to throw another tantrum at the thought of a bath.  
Carefully he stood, Alex was making himself comfortable on his shoulder, signaling that he was sleepy. And it had been a long day for all of them.
“Ach-,” he started then stopped at Achilles’ expression. His eyes were drawn to the moon over the calm waters. While his expression was calm, he sensed his sadness. At the thought of her.
Patroclus gently sat back next to him, letting his head rest at his shoulder. The three of them sat there in silence listening to the waves and Alex’s soft breathing.
Achilles remembered something, she had once taunted him with, "If he survives you are free to do what you wish with him."
   _________________________________Achilles suddenly drew him at his side, turning him to face him.
“Marry me.”
Patroclus was speechless.
“Marry me,” Achilles repeated. Alex snuggled further against his neck, his breath tickling his neck.
Achilles gestured wildly at the night sky,“ Right now before the stars, the moon, and the Gods. Pledge that you are mine and that I’m yours.” 
“I-” 
Achilles’ eyes were bright, all traces of his previous sadness wiped away.
Patroclus smiled softly and said “I’m already yours. This I’m sure of, I don’t need to hear it.” Achilles reached for him drawing him into his chest.
“You may not need such things, but I want to say them anyway. I want you to know that you are mine and I’m yours. Forevermore,” Achilles whispered, “I want to give everything, anything you desire.”
“Achilles I have you,” he paused shifted to settle Alex more comfortably against him, “and Alexander. I do not need anything else. All I desire is for us to be together as a family. Promise me this?”
“Always, I swear it.” Achilles vowed. 
Patroclus intertwined his hand with his, “ I’m yours and I will always be yours.”
“And I yours for now until the last breath leaves my body.” Achilles swore. At that moment the wind picked up sweeping a warm breeze. Their oath had been sealed.
Hera smiled down at the young couple, finally one wrong had been corrected. At least for now.
Alexander looked so sweet, Patroclus couldn’t stop himself from pinching one of his chubby cheeks.
“No,” he told him suliky, chewing on his piece of honey cake. 
“I’m sorry, my love. I couldn’t resist,” he apologized. Oh, how cute he looked with his cheeks all puffed up with food. Alexander just huffed at him. He chuckled a little, again. Gods, he could just spend an entire day cooing at how precious his little one was. When he saw his piece was gone, broke another piece of honey cake to give him he took it leaving crumbs across his cheeks. Aw.
“Papa,” his little one called looking for another piece, eyes soft and innocent. He was weak to his son’s sweet face, he just hoped he hadn’t spoiled his dinner. 
“I suppose just one more piece of cake couldn't hurt, it is your birthday after all. But just one more. Don’t tell your father,” he whispered. His son only smiled, reaching for him.
“Don’t tell me what?” Patroclus froze before he turned to see Achilles in the opening dressed in a clean and loose tunic.  His hair damp. Again, he had told him to come home when he needed to, he would get sick bathing in the river, especially in this weather.
“Nothing.” Alexander still held his arms out, so he had been reaching for his father. Achilles took him, tossing him up lightly. Alex screeched and giggled wanting to be tossed again.
“No, tell me, my love. What were you and Alex conspiring about?” Achilles’ grinned.
“Cake,” his son said, hands reaching for the pins on his tunic. Patroclus wanted to laugh his son had told on him.
“Oh, having cake without me. I’m hurt.” Achilles faked a pout, and it worked like a charm because Patroclus was feeding him a piece of honey cake.
“It’s his birthday, and I thought a small treat wouldn’t hurt.” Patroclus blushed a bit when he licked a bit of honey from his fingers. 
“And you say I spoil him.” he teased around crumbs. Patroclus smiled again, his loves.
“You do.” Achilles shrugged and if he did, he was well within his right to do so. His father had spoiled him, he would do the same for his son.
“Not as much as you do. As his mother, you let him have his way much more than I do.” Now it was Patroclus’ turn to pout. 
“I can't help it, he is too precious to refuse,” Patroclus sighed, “Have you seen your son, he is so sweet. I hate to refuse him.” At this Alex fixed his jade green eyes the same as his own, when he grinned Patroclus’ dimples peeking through. He was right, how could anyone say no to such a sweet child.
“You’re right, he is too precious,” he murmured poking one of his fat cheeks. By the Gods, his child was just as chubby as he had been as a child. It made him even cuter.
“No, Ach.” Alex huffed, pushing his hand away, “no touch.” 
Patroclus snickered.
Well then. Achilles kissed his cheek in apology. A year ago, he had felt such despair and now look at his blessing. A happy and healthy child. His smile grew as he watched Alex wander around the meadow, placing a few flowers in his chubby fists. When he was finished he would deposit them in his lap before wandering off again.Patroclus was finishing a flower crown while Achilles napped in the grass, beside him. Ever so often his peaceful expression was marred by lines appearing between his brows, and few words were occasionally muttered when he rolled over. However they were too low to make out, Patroclus smoothed his hair and placed kisses at his forehead to drive away whatever troubled him. Gods he wishes he would tell him what was wrong. These days Achilles told him nothing, not even if something was bothering him. Patroclus could recall with clarity the last time Achilles told him anything of importance was the same day they had lost so many.If only Achilles would let him, let him help. All he wanted to do was be by his side. Patroclus suddenly realized how quiet it was, Alex hadn’t…..He shot up and ran.Alex had wandered away. His heart raced as he reached the end of the meadow and still no slight of his golden-haired babe.In the valley, he heard the trickling sound of water. “We are both drawn to it.” Achilles’ earlier words echoed. Gods no. He ran as fast as his already shaky legs would take him.Thetis didn’t know why she had even come, her son would not be pleased to see her. There was no point in coming here only to face his hatred. Something she still couldn’t bear. Perhaps she could try to make things right between them, if only to see him again.
No, he wouldn’t be pleased to find her here, especially on his favored son’s birthday. The child borne by Patroclus, the only son whom Achilles would ever acknowledge. That too brought her grief, her grandchild had been innocent in his conception, Achilles had no right to shun him. If he wanted someone to blame he could blame her not his son. 
Alexander was her grandchild too, but she favored Neoptolemus over him on the matter of principle because the poor child had no one. Not even his own mother. Deidamia was still heartbroken by her son’s complete and utter rejection, so she left her to raise him. He was such a sweet child when he was with her, but she did dread the day when he would ask her about her son. And the heartbreak he would face to learn of his cruelty.
How had everything gone so wrong so quickly? Had it been that day?
Even now she was still racked by guilt at the thought of her first grandchild, of what she had done. Patroclus’ cries and blood stained thighs, haunted her as much as her own miscarriages did. No, she would not think of that child. Instead as pence, she would raise Neoptolemus, to be great. The Fates would not punish that child for the life she had taken. She wouldn’t allow it.
Thetis sighed, she needed to get back to the child that actually needed her instead of lingering here with her regrets.
As she walked back to the river, something pulled at her dress. Startled she glanced down to see curly blond hair, chubby cheeks, and soft green eyes. Achilles?
No, not her son her grandson, Alexander. Crouching down she relished at how big he had gotten, and how strikingly he favored his father. And still, she saw nothing of his slut mother in him. Speaking of which where was his mother, Patroclus always had the child at his side.
“Pwetty,” Alex gurgled reaching for her dark hair.Alex looked up at the strange woman, she had such nice hair. She was pretty too like papa. Huh, Papa. Where was he?
“Papa,” he cried, Papa.”Thetis sighed, hoping that her son's concubine would come for him.“Alexander,” Patroclus called desperately. Oh, Gods what if something happened to him. He would never forgive himself. 
Just when he felt that all was lost, he heard his son crying. Following it to the riverbank, there. Oh thank the Gods.
While he was relieved to see him unharmed, Patroclus was less than pleased to see her holding his baby. His crying baby.
 He fought the urge to rush over to her and rip his son from her, only pausing when he noticed her forlorn face. The way she held him as if she was remembering a time when she held Achilles. However this wasn't Achilles, this was his son. And she had no right, not after all the grief she had caused them.
"Thetis!," he called, not caring if his voice had been harsh.
Thetis chose not to respond, cooing at Alexander instead, "Look little one your mother is here." Alex, bless his chubby baby stopped crying and smiling through teary eyes.
"Papa~," he gurgled, his arms stretching for him. Thetis fixed his curls before she placed him back in his arms. Patroclus drew away from her as much as he could without disrespect. He wanted her to leave, just leave them in peace. She had for all these months.
Thetis turned to face him once more, her dress flowing with the movement, "Stop your scheming and stay with your child. Much of what you want will lead to results that are counter-intuitive to your goal of stopping Achilles' destiny. If that is still what you desire." Not even Patroclus could stop him.
"I don't believe you." Alex wriggled in arms, but he held him still.
She shrugged, "You don't have to mortal. I care nothing for you, but my son loves that child more than anything. More than..."
Her lips curled up, but she said nothing further stepping into the river.
A sudden boldness overtook him, to question her, “Wait, how is Neoptolemus?” That poor child.
Her head whipped around quickly, “He is of no concern of yours.” That whore had no right, he had his own child after all. A child that would hold Achilles’ heart forevermore. Why did he care?
“He is. After all, I could have been his mother.” Thetis’ eyes narrowed, “ and looked after him.”
“He has a mother.” Did he really, that poor child. Patroclus wished he had swayed Achilles more firmly to take that him with them.
“No matter, I wish to see him. He is my child’s siblings, it is wrong to keep them apart.” 
Thetis regarded him, “I’m sure my son has told you, that child will not come to this city until he is grown. He will destroy this city and take for the Greeks a great victory.” 
“He is but a babe now, surely there is no harm in them meeting.” Thetis watched her son’s lover, perhaps. What could be the harm?
“I’ll see,” she said at last. 
Patroclus inclined his head towards her and turned to leave. Alex’s chubby face peeked at her from his mother’s shoulder, she could hardly contain her smile. Just like Achilles.
Ever curious. 
Goodbye little one, I hope to see you again. 
When Achilles woke up he found Patroclus and Alexander donning matching flower crowns. He had his suspicions that something wasn’t quite right. Patroclus grinned when he glanced at him, so something was definitely wrong. He felt it, a presence. Patroclus' eyes hadn’t left his hair, what had he done.
Touching at his head found that instead of a flower crown, Patroclus had braided his hair around the flowers into a braid. 
“Love, how did you do it without waking me up?” Patroclus laughed.
“Achilles, you were snoring so hard, I knew you were fast asleep. Alex helped me too. Isn’t that right?” Patroclus asked their son.
Alex grinned tottering over to him, “Yeah.”
“Thank you, my loves” Achilles said kissing them each on the cheek. Alex laughed a bit before going off to gather more flowers. 
Patroclus brought over a basket, half of the berries were still there, a first he supposed“ I almost forgot that we picked some berries earlier. Although we did have a few, we saved you some.” 
He took one they were filled to the brim with juice. Achilles took another one before kissing Patroclus again this time on the lips. He blushed a bit, before returning his kiss, a bit more chastely. They took turns feeding each other berries, well Patroclus was trying but all he wanted to do was kiss him. 
“Achilles!” Patroclus giggled, as he kissed him again, his dimples peeking through. Oh, that right, he had forgotten, “I forgot to give Alex his present.” 
Patroclus hummed from his lap, “I have to give him as well, just wait until dinner. I promise he won’t mind any. Look.” His eyes followed to where he pointed.
It appears that his son’s gentle nature had a way of attracting animals. A butterfly had landed right on his nose. 
How cute.
Alex hadn’t moved his curiosity drawn by the blue butterfly fluttering its wings. The effect was ruined when he sneezed. Oh his poor baby, he appeared as if he wanted to cry when it disappeared. Instantly he was up and at his side.
“Alex, come here, It’s alright, it’ll come back.” Achilles told him taking him into his arms. 
“Pwetty,” he told him, his eyes teary. Gods, he was so precious.
“I know it was pretty. But it’s okay, I'll show you something even better,” he told him carrying him back to Patroclus.
“It’s so pretty.”
“Pwetty?” he asked.
“Very, I promise.” He would never seek to lie to his son.Alex was so pleased with his gifts, Achilles was glad that he loved his gift. The moment he had seen it he knew Alex would be taken with it, the ball was as blue as the sea perfect and round. Best of all it was shiny, his son loved shiny things. And from every angle, it appeared to shimmer a different blue. 
His lover had carved him a set of wooden ships. Alex alternated between rolling the ball through them and placing them on top of it. Achilles counted a total of twelve.
Patroclus caught him and smiled, a soft thing tinged in sadness, “To remember our journey together, even though he wasn’t conscious for most of it. I want him to know that through everything that he is my most precious gift.” He picked one up briefly, “that I love him and I would do anything for him. Always.”
“And I will as well,” he swore, kissing his cheek, “For the both of you.”
Patroclus returned it, “Now let’s have some honey cakes, you threw a fit earlier because we had some without you.”
“I did not.”
“You did,” Patroclus called going to the table. Alex had dropped everything at the word, “cake.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The weather had finally started to settle as summer came and with its festivals and rituals. It just so happened that Achilles’ birthday fell around the festivals so he would be home for the day.
“Stay close to me, okay?” Patroclus asked his little one, who bobbed his head. They were making a seashell necklace for Achilles already they had a large one and a few little ones. Mainly it was just nice to spend time with Alex.
“Look,” he called tottering over to him, holding up his tiny white shell. Patroclus took it a moment expecting his son to want it back, instead, he waddled away. His tiny feet skimming the water.
“Alex, not too close to the water,” Patroclus called, jogging over to him. He hadn’t picked him up but stayed near him. His baby was too little to swim in the ocean, especially with all the danger that lurked below.
However, Alex was happy just to scrunch his toes in the wet sand, to be honest, he was too. Patroclus was tired, he got up early every day to run and train with their men and in the medical tent a steady stream of soldiers always came in. His afternoons were split between Phoinix with the battle strategies and inventory for supplies which they would present to Achilles later and caring for Alex. Evenings were spent giving lessons, tending the injured, and waiting for Achilles.“Patroclus !!,” someone shouted his name, glancing back he saw Briseis in the distance with a few women. When the men left it was just them and the children, Alex had plenty of playmates to choose from, but some of the Trojan women kept their children away from him. While he could not blame some of them for holding a grudge against Achilles and the other men, it was cruel to hold it against a child. His child in particular, if they hated the Greeks that much then why have children by them? It made no sense, especially when they had not been forced in any way; Achilles and he had made sure of it. Pallias was the most outspoken of that fraction of women that hated him, saying he was nothing but a “whore” that spread his legs for a monster. If she hated him that was fine, but leave his lover and child out of it.
“Patroclus,” Briseis called again. He stood holding out a hand for Alex.
“Come on my love, the other children are here.” Alex took it and wandered over to play with the other children. As they played, he taught Briseis more words in Greek which she then translated for the women.Briseis then translated back what they said to him, his understanding of Anatolian had come along nicely this way. This is why he knew how some of the women viewed him as long as they did not try to bully his son, Patroclus could bear with it. Alex played with the other children for a little while before coming to rest in his arms, seeming tired. Wonderful, he was too. Thank the Gods, he finally had an excuse to leave.“Please excuse me, it seems as if it is his nap time,” he told Briseis who translated, a few women nodded gathering their children. Entering their tent, Patroclus laid down letting Alex rest on his chest. Alex appeared to be going to sleep only for his arms to wiggle as he peeked at him with a cheeky grin. Their game of hide and seek continued until they both felt sleepy and as they drifted off Patroclus was reminded him of their nap times before, how their breathing and heartbeats had been in sync. His last thought as his eyes fluttered closed was that when they woke up, they would finish Achilles’ gift.Awareness came slowly when he realized, a hand was shaking him, “Patroclus,” a voice.
“Hmm, what?” he muttered, pushing it away. Checking to see that Alex had rolled into his side, righted him before getting up. He expected to see Achilles instead...
Automedon’s bright blue eyes met his, still dressed in his armor. Oh no, they wouldn't be able to finish it in time. Well they could always start it tomorrow morning, they had another day.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but Phiniox asked if you wanted to open three caskets of wine tomorrow.”
Still a little sleepy, he nodded. More to add to his already long list for tomorrow.
“When will he be back?” At his question, he noticed that Automedon’s face frowned briefly.
“His Highness should be back soon.”His face gave nothing away but his voice wavered. He was hiding something.
“What happened, Automedon?” The Gods know if he asked Achilles, he would get nothing.
“He didn’t want you to worry.” Oh Gods, what had happened.
“What happened?” His heart was racing, Gods, he hadn’t been hurt or….
“Nothing, he is fine. I swear it, it's just that.”
“It’s just what?”
Automedon sighed, the prince was going to be furious that he had worried his beloved.
“Prince Achilles took an arrow to his arm.”
“Oh Gods,” Patroclus exclaimed, sitting for a moment. The one day he had not been in the tent, his lover had been injured.
Automedon rushed to calm him, “No, no it only grazed him. He is fine.”
“Where is he?”
“Patroclus, don’t worry. He is fine, he just wanted to wait and heal before he came home.”
“That wasn’t what I asked, where is he?”
“The river,” Automedon said. Patroclus nodded already crouching down to get salve and bandages from the trunk.
“Can you stay here with Alex, please?” He gestured to Alex still asleep in bed.
Automedon nodded “Of course.” The little prince was easy to watch when he was asleep.Achilles wrung out his hair, wincing as he did so. Gods he hated at times how slow it took for his body to heal at times. But if he went home like this Patroclus would have a cow.
“Achilles.” He turned to see Patroclus against the sunset. His curls were wild, and his cheeks were ruddy. It almost looked as if he had been running.
“Are you alright?” he panted. Achilles raised an eyebrow, so he had been running.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“Achilles, be serious.” Patroclus dropped next to the riverbank, feet dangling into the water.
“I’m, I promise,” he said moving to rest next to him. Maybe he could distract him.
“Come swim with me.” Achilles asked drifting back into the current, the movement did sting but what else could he do except wait until he healed.
Patroclus didn’t move, “Love, let me see it.” Well now he couldn’t seek to hide it from him, so obediently he went over to him, Patroclus tsked as he examined it, he hid a wince at his gentle touch.
“He was right, it just grazed it. Any deeper and it would have embedded.” Damn you Automedon.
“Does it hurt any?” Patroclus asked still gently grasping his arm.
“I’m fine, it doesn’t hurt any.” That was a lie, it stung terribly. Patroclus’ hand slipped from his arm to his face.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Patroclus hummed a bit before touching the area around it. Achilles jerked back in surprise.
“It does hurt, now come here. Honestly, how can you be this stubborn? I know it takes about a day for you to heal...” Patroclus fussed while applying the salve. He felt warm, Patroclus knew everything of his nature yet he was still so gentle with him. Achilles felt his love in every one of his words, in his actions. Gods, he loves him.
Whereas everyone else wanted him to be a God, Patroclus only wanted him to be Achilles. His Achilles. He never had to put on a face of strength that he was invincible. Patroclus had never asked him to be anyone but himself.
Achilles let his head rest against Patroclus’ shoulder as he tied the bandage.
“Achilles, are you alright?” his lover asked, Achilles just nodded.
“I’m fine.” He was more than fine, he was so content absolutely content, his heart was moments from bursting from his chest, “just tired. Let me rest here against you just for a few more minutes.” Achilles needed to let his face cool and have his heart slow down.
“Of course, my love.” even in his words, Achilles heard his smile. Gods his heart would never be calm, like this.
“Love, are you hungry?” Patroclus asked, fingers gently rubbing at his neck.
He was a little. Tired too. He nodded a bit against his neck.
“Then come home, my love.” Patroclus reached for his hand, he took it. Home?
Home was wherever his family was. ___________________________________________________________________________________________“What’s all of this?” Achilles asked, eyeing the table loaded with meat, wine, honey cakes, and in the center his favorite figs.
“It’s for you, I know it’s a day early. But I really wanted to have something small with just the three of us before tomorrow...,” Patroclus trailed off shyly. Achilles felt blood rush to face yet again, Gods Patroclus. Achilles just kissed him, he had to.
“It’s perfect, thank you.” Patroclus peered up at him, freckles even more prominent thanks to his pretty blush.
“I’m glad,” he beamed. Achilles kissed him again without warning. When they broke, it seemed as if he could kiss him forever and never grow tired.
Achilles knew he had damned himself yet again, but could hardly bring himself to care. Patroclus was worth giving everything up. Everything, if he asked to have them go home, then he would gladly have their ships set for home.
Patroclus broke the trance over them as he drew away, but even he seemed affected by the way his hands lingered at his neck. Finally, he drew away going to the table.
“Come eat,” he said blush still staining his cheeks, Achilles hid a smirk, oh he would later on.Alex his ever naughty babe, had very swiftly given him a resounding whack on his face when he had picked him up. Patroclus was horrified of course, but Achilles just grinned.
“My, my aren’t you getting stronger,” he cooed, Alex appeared to be trying to apologize for hitting him by placing his hand at his face.
Achilles gave him another smile, “It’s alright, I know you didn’t mean it. You were just happy to see me.”
Alex patted his face again, “Ach.” Eyes growing teary, it wouldn't be due to having his baby cry over something so silly. It didn’t even hurt.
Achilles kissed his cheek, “See all is forgiven. Come eat, mother has honey cakes for us. It’s okay.”
His teary eyes widened, “Cake?” he questioned. Achilles nodded, breaking him a piece.
“Here you go, it’s okay.” Alex took it with wary hands, before chewing on it. His face filled with contentment as he chewed. Patroclus had been quiet during the exchange, but Achilles saw him shake his head.
“You’re rewarding him for bad behavior,” he chided gently.
“He’ll grow out of it.” Patroclus raised an eyebrow.
“You’ll come to regret such words when he is older and runs wild. And when and if that happens, you will deal with him.” Patroclus scolded him no further, instead took to feeding Alex his meal, periodically eating his own in between. Achilles hid his smile behind his cup, his family.
Gods he had been blessed.
Alex caught him staring and sent him a gummy smile filled with food. His son was too cute. And what Patroclus had said wouldn’t come to pass right?
Patroclus piled up the plates and put them aside as well as straightening their tent. His job was to keep Alex entertained, which wasn’t hard as his son’s favorite thing was his new ball. Before they all settled for bed, Patroclus rechecked his wound. He could already feel it knitting itself back together, but his love insisted on reapplying salve to it. Satisfied with his handiwork, kissed his cheek.
“Did you enjoy today?” Patroclus asked him as Alex breathed between them tiny hand resting at his chest, falling asleep. Patroclus had no idea, he was so content that he felt as if his heart would burst.
“I did,” he breathed, “Words can not even begin to describe how happy I am.” Even with every odd stacked against them, Achilles felt nothing like could ever break his peace.
Nor wouldn’t he allow it.

Patroclus hummed rising to gently deposit their son in his crib. Alex’s fidgeted his arms a bit before he was calm again. And he was back again, pressed something warm and heavy into his hand, Achilles let his fingers trace over it before holding it up in the dim lighting.
A carving, sitting up to further examine it tears instantly came to his eyes. It was him and Patroclus holding Alex, his lover had carefully carved every detail right down to their expressions.
Patroclus’ warm hand brushed against his cheek, Achilles felt his heart stop yet again. He clasped his own hand over Patroclus’, pressed their lips together. No matter how much he kissed or held him, Achilles would never get used to how he fell for him over and over again. His gentle nature, laugh, and his ever soft smile. All of it, Patroclus never ceased to steal his heart, and own it so completely he wasn’t sure where Patroclus began and where he did. They were one.
“I love you,” Achilles whispered when they broke, “ I love you both so much.”
Patroclus smiled against his lips,” We love you too. Happy birthday, my love.” Achilles drew him until he rested at his chest, kissing his forehead before drifting off.
Quietly Achilles thanked the Gods for another year with them. By the time lunch had arrived, most if not all of his tasks for the day were complete. Inventory had been itemized and put away for Phiniox’s sharp eyes to review, and everything in the tent was neat and orderly. Best of all was that Achilles’ necklace was all but finished.
Alex’s chubby fingers slid around the seashells admiring their various colors and shapes.
“Pwetty,” he commented.
“Isn’t it, it’ll be finished if you add this shell here,” Patroclus said holding the string for his little one to place the last white shell on the string.
“There it’s finished, your father will be so happy to receive his gift.” His sweet babe only smiled at him.
“Do you want to eat my little love?” he asked clearing away the extra materials
“Cake.” his son asked.
“Not yet, my love. When you finish your food then I’ll give you a piece.”
“Cake,” his son told him sadly. He kissed his cheek softly.
“Sorry, love I can’t you must eat before you have sweets.”
_____________________________________________________________
Their camp was livelier than usual with both the festival and his 17th birthday taking precedence. It was rowdy, even louder than when he had announced Patroclus’ pregnancy. Women chatting as their children tottered about with sweets and small toys clutched in their fists. Men drank themselves into stupors as they traded war stories and gossip. Achilles swore they were worse than the women. He would swear to Zeus they were adjusting their running bet about his lover.
A bet he would ensure never came true.
Speaking of his lover, where was he? He had seen him before they departed, but he was lost to him in the crowd.
“Cousin,” Ajax greeted cheerfully, much too cheerfully for his tastes. His arms going around his shoulder.
“Ajax,” he deadpanned, swiftly removing its weight.
“Looking for your lovely lover, he is with my wife and son,” Ajax stated pressing a cup in hand.
"Drink cousin and be merry, it's a party in your honor," Ajax clunked his goblet against his before lowering his voice, "Besides there'll be plenty of time later to have him in your bed."
Regardless of if Patroclus liked him if he kept talking so disrespectfully his tongue was coming out._________________________________________________________Briseis and he listened as Achilles played a new song for the men. It was cheerful and infectious. Dare he say a tad racy, but as long as he was enjoying himself. He signaled to Phiniox to open another casket as they had already drained three, what was one more.
Diomedes had come too and unfortunately, Odysseus came with him. He could only hope that the man behaved himself.
Alex giggled as Briseis tickled him lightly, he smiled softly at them. When she looked up, she returned it, only for it to drop a moment later.
Patroclus turned to see Achilles flopping down next to him, braids falling into his face.
Sighing, reached over to fix them back, by the Gods what would he do with this man.
Achilles just grinned at him, “I’ve ruined all your hard work and I’m sorry, but...did you like it.”
He smiled, “I love everything you compose, but don’t you think it was a tad…”
Achilles tilted his head innocently but his eyes held a held spark of mischief, “A tad...what?”
“Suggestive,” he finished at last and the look in Achilles’ eyes had only grown.
“Oh~” he teased back, “was it?”
_________________________________________________________
Briseis watched them flirt with a stinging feeling in her chest. However what had she expected to happen? Patroclus viewed her as a friend and nothing more. Made all the more obvious by the child cradled in her arms, the very fruit of their union. There simply wasn’t any room for her in his heart no matter how much she prayed or wished. And to make it worse, she had come to view Achilles in a less hostile light. While he did kill Trojans and was the catalyst that led to her village’s destruction, he could also be a competent leader to his men, a wonderful father to his son, and above it all. He loved Patroclus. Loved perhaps was the wrong word, Achilles worshiped the very ground he walked on, looked at him as if he hung the moon and the stars and as if he was the only God who he would ever pray to. She cast one more longing looking before cuddling Alex closer in her arms.___________________________________________________________Never one to pass up an opportunity to revel in another’s misfortune, Diomedes poked at Odysseus’ sulking face. The man just moved away from him. He frowned for the Gods’ sakes what was his problem now. Odysseus lived in his goddamn head way too much, it was a miracle he functioned at all. He poked him again this time in the middle of his forehead.
“What has you so down and out?” It was a party for the Gods’ sake, one with alcohol and women aplenty, the man should have been enjoying it. For the Gods’s know, he can't indulge with Menelaus’ spawn in his belly.
The man merely grunted, taking in the scene before him and sighing.
“It is my son’s birthday today as well.” At that Diomedes fell silent.
Well fuck.
Patting the man’s back, tried to offer him words of comfort, “It won’t be long until you back home with your wife and son. We gained so much ground and may breach Troy’s walls in a few weeks.” Odysseus sighed again.
“Aye, and what good will that be. My child has made two and I will not be there to witness it. My wife will think I’m dead and remarry.” Diomedes rolled his eyes, his friend was such a drama queen.
“You’ll come home as a hero with gold and treasure aplenty. No woman can resist that. My own wife will be glad of the gold and trinkets and not mind my child.”
“If she does?”
Diomedes snort, “Then she can go after all it has been years, and yet I still have no son. All it only took me a few lies in that bastard’s bed and I’m with a child. So the problem laid with her not me. I have no use for a barren woman.”
“Not even to raise your child.” Diomedes leveled him with an even glare.
“That’s what wetnurses are for.” His nanny had been a fine woman, strict but kind.
“Children need mothers, not servants.” His friend snorted, but he saw the way he placed his hand at his swollen stomach.
No matter what he said, Odysseus knew that the child would be loved, it would only take Diomedes some getting used to taking care of someone small and fragile.
He hid another sign seeing young Pelides play with his son. _________________________________________________________Patroclus topped off his cup yet again, and already was beginning to feel the buzz of it clouding his mind. Achilles was playing another randy song that got several laughs out of the men, thankful it wasn’t about him or else he would have his head.
...She fell over once and that was it.
Falling over twice got her thrice again….

If nothing else he was talented at entertaining and being flirtatious. Every time their eyes met Achilles would wink, and each time he felt his temperature rise a little higher.
Finally, when he sat next to him, he passed him a goblet filled to the brim with cold wine which was downed gratefully.
Alex had began dozing off in his lap, so it was time for him to retire. Pecking Achilles’ cheek, excused himself from the party.While Alex slept he readied himself for bed, just as he finished up the tent flaps opened. Achilles was already at his back, hands eagerly wrapping around his waist. Inhaling him, then came the warm touch of lips again his neck.
Slowly he let his hands reach behind him to tangle into those blond curls. Lips soon turned to teeth, shivering he turned to face him.
His tunic dropped to the floor with a soft thump, already he felt Achilles’ smirk against his neck.
“Undressing already?”
Patroclus hummed gently instead of answering breaking from his grip to climb into bed. Achilles stood there a moment drinking in the beautiful sight before him, legs parted slightly, lips as red as sin and eyes darkened with lust.
Patroclus beckoned him to bed, “Come, I have one last gift for you.”
Achilles did as he was asked, coming to rest just at the junction of his thighs. Never would he tire of laying worship to the altar of his God. His Patroclus.
“Ach~,mmh ngh!” Patroclus was coming apart absolutely beautifully in his arms.
By Gods, did he want to swallow as many sweet hymns from his lips as the night would allow?_______________________________________________Achilles felt something cold pressing at his neck mistaking the feeling for a blade, heart hammering shot up only for the item to fall too. It wasn’t a threat.
“Huh.” Achilles was distorted with both sleep and lingering anxiety when he held up to the light.
Oh it was only a necklace.
Patroclus grinned at him off to the side with Alex in his arms, “Don’t be so startled my love your son only wanted to give you a gift.”
“Pwetty,” Alex chimed in before going back to try to pull Patroclus’ curls free from his bun.
In his hands was a necklace made of several small seashells with one medium-sized pink one in the center. It was the very same shell if he remembered Patroclus had picked up on their first night here in Troy.
Achilles grinned picking up their babe, “Thank you, my love, it is very pretty,” he said, kissing his chubby cheek. His son was absolutely delighted at having his attention. Babbling as if he was having a conversation with him, Alex had gotten better with words, but sometimes rarely made sense, as all babies did he supposed. Be that as it may, he would always indulge his son, so he narrated the start of their day to their son. Leaving out the part where he would leave to spill the blood of men.
“ We eat breakfast with papa,” he told his son whose big round eyes watched him.
Achilles tore a piece of bread and gave Alex a piece. His ever-curious prince marveled at the softness of it.
“Cake?” Alex asked, tearing it further. He wondered if he told him it wasn’t would he still eat it.
“Bread,” Achilles said, repeating it a few times.” Alex stumbling for a bit before he said it.
“Bwead.” Well, close enough. Plus he was eating it with no fuss.
“Yes, very good.” For once Achilles didn’t long for battle instead he longed to sit with his child and teach him more words. Watch him smile and cuddle him. However he had to go, so he fed Alex passing him back to his mother. Kissing him both before getting ready, pulling his armor. Watched as Alex pulled at Patroclus’s pretty curls, it was only a matter of time before…
“Alex,” Patroclus laughed, shaking his curls from his face. Alex giggled waving the tie that had set all of Patroclus’ lovely curls free. Naughty babe.
His love had gathered most of his wild curls back going to pull them back again before he placed a hand to stop him.
“You look beautiful just leave them.” Patroclus’ hand paused. Achilles thought he would have fixed them back and yet he did, in fact, leave them. Cheeks filling with a soft red, by the Gods he was stunning.
Patroclus said, “I will, if someone promises not to pull,” tickling Alex, “Right?”
“Papa~,” was Alex’s cheerful reply. Patroclus was already telling Alex something he couldn’t hear.
Achilles watched just a moment longer before grasping at the tent’s opening. He was shaking, finally he wretched it open.
Achilles felt under his armor where their gift rested, the smooth shells a reminder.
“He was doing this for them,” he repeated in his mind, “and only them.”
Even if it cost him everything, his humanity.
As long as he could give them everything.
Patroclus spent most of the morning with Alex before giving him to Briseis for the afternoon and walking to the main camp.
Entering the tent, he was assaulted by the cloying and heavy scent of blood with a touch of death that hung over everything. Machon nodded at him, hands a deep red. So, it was to be a day of heavy casualties and losses. Even so, he was ready, no man was dying on his watch today. Patroclus paused just a moment to pull his unruly curls from his face. Now he was ready.At sunset, he walked along the beach letting the water lap at his toes. Finally, he just fell to his knees, letting the waves wash him clean of the blood staining his hands. Today they had lost many good men, too many. Patroclus for not the first time wished they could go home, away from this land of tragedy and death. What was the point in dying here, for what? For Helen of Troy. Had she any honor, she would have returned to her husband with no fuss. However this war had grown to be more than Helen of Troy, it was a game for the Gods’ amusement as they played with their lives and. He wept for all that came to pass and even for what had yet to. A year had passed, but how many more would they be given.Patroclus for once came home later than him with the blood of every shape and size dried on him and haunted eyes.
“Are you alright?” Achilles asked gently. Patroclus nodded, going to the bowl.
“I’m fine just tired, love.”
“Then come and eat.” Patroclus nodded almost sluggishly as he sat at the table. Achilles watched him eat as if it was a chore.
“Patroclus…” Achilles started then stopped. Gods what could he say.
“Achilles,” his lover called softly,” I’m okay, I promise. Today has just been a long day, I swear nothing has happened.”
“I trust you, my love. You should rest.”
Patroclus got up and paused briefly at Alex’s crib before he went to wash off the remainder of the blood.
Patroclus’ warmth in his arms brought him so much peace, that he felt Morpheus pulling at him.
“Achilles?” Patroclus asked him..
“Yes, love?” Finally, he would know why his love looked so haunted.
Could we leave this place? Leave it behind all of it. Would you do it for me?

Instead, he said this,“ I love you, please be safe tomorrow.”
Achilles hummed, “ I always am.”
Patroclus’ grasped his tunic, “Achilles just heed my words, please. We have lost so many, I can’t lose you too.” He said this more quietly.
“You won’t.” Achilles promised once more, “You’ll never have to worry, I would never break my promise to you.”
“ I know, but sometimes I can’t help but worry.” Achilles lightly raked his fingers through those soft curls.
“Then tell me when you feel worried so I can assure you.”
His lover huffed, “You would soon grow tired if I told you everything that has grieved me.”
“Never tell me what grieves you.”
I want for us to leave here and never to return. Troy will kill you.
“I-I,” Patroclus started then stopped, “never mind it, we should sleep. Tomorrow will bring another set of challenges. Goodnight my love.”
“Tell me,” Achilles demanded once more, “please Patroclus. I can do nothing if you don’t tell me”
Patroclus bit at his lip, he could never voice what he truly desired.
“I could say the same for you. You tell me nothing, you appear so sad at times, hurting I can’t bear it. I’m sorry if I make you seem grieved. It's just that I love you and don’t want you to be hurt.”
“I-.” Achilles said, but Patroclus cupped his jaw.
“Let me finish. I don’t care if it will heal quickly, I know it still hurts. It made me so angry to see you hurt, I---” Patroclus drew a breath seeing Achilles hurt had driven him mad, no matter what he said he still bled like a man, hurt like one.
“I wanted blood, I didn’t care whose. I wanted them to pay for hurting you for treating you like something to conquer if they can make you bleed…”
“I’m a demigod, love. They can’t hurt me..” Achilles amended it slightly, “for long anyway.”
Patroclus shot up, his curls too were wild, “I don’t care.”
“I’m your philtatos. It is my duty to protect you. I should be protecting you,” he sighed against him.
“I was just a scratch Nothing I couldn't handle.” Achilles tried to make light of it.
“It wasn’t, Achilles. Had it gone any deeper, it would have been embedded.” What of it, he could just pull it out and it would heal. It wasn’t something for his love to get upset about.
“It isn’t your duty to protect me, it is mine.” Achilles said.
“I don’t care, I should be there with you, yet you refuse to let me.”
Patroclus didn’t need to bloody his hands any more than necessary, he wouldn’t allow it. Nor would he allow him to be hurt for any reason.
“I refuse you with good reason, it isn’t safe for you. As much as I want you by my side, you are needed here. I need you here.” He had expected Achilles to say as much.
Patroclus sighed burrowing further into his chest, “Then be more careful, my love. I would do anything to keep you safe.” I would kill for you, those words went unsaid but the intent was there, “Surely you know this. Demigod or not I will protect you.”
Patroclus’ declaration only made his heart beat faster.
“And I you, always.” Achilles breathed drawing him close. Not even a moment later felt Patroclus’ soft breaths against his skin.
Achilles smiled softly kissing his forehead, his fierce Patroclus.As summer slowly began bleeding into Fall, Patroclus celebrated his 17th birthday. He had told his lover that he didn’t want such a celebration, however, Achilles had insisted.
“It’s the day you came into this world. Therefore it should always be celebrated because without it I wouldn’t,” Achilles sighed against him, “I wouldn’t have my other half of my soul. My everything.” Hearing this made him so flustered, even if Achilles told him he loved him a million times over. Patroclus would never tire of hearing nor would it fail to make him blush.
So after that, he let Achilles do as he wished, which meant a very large party.
Surprisingly enough the other kings and princes and even soldiers were invited. Patroclus mingled with a few of his patients, asking how their wounds had healed.
They were grateful, and he found himself next to Diomedes who had grown since the last time he had seen him. The man looked ready to give birth any day now, and yet he was only seven months along.
Which he loudly complained about at even opportunity, cursing Menelaus for his “potent seed.” Patroclus could understand the sentiment, he had cursed Achilles much the same.
“How did you do this? I’m very much ready to die. I can’t breathe, eat, sleep, or even piss in peace. This is a torment I wouldn’t wish on even my most hated enemies.” Again he could sympathize with him, but there was little to be done but to wait.
“I took to bedrest more often than not otherwise, otherwise I would have committed murder.”
Diomedes turned to look at him, curious as to who could piss off such a gentle person “Whose?”
“Achilles, who else. Drove me mad my entire pregnancy, with his constant doting...”
“With his cock.” Diomedes thought with a snicker to himself. Gods what he wouldn’t give if… only Menelaus would stop being an ass.
Patroclus continued,“...Had guards following me everywhere, and was constantly shoving food in my face when I was full. Some days, I could have just killed him, especially with his bloody snoring. Gods.”
He made a mental note not to ever get on Patroclus’ bad side, like ever. Kind face or not, growing up bosom close with a bloodthirsty demigod had ramifications. All the proof he needed was that Patroclus killed twenty men before Achilles dragged him from the battlefield, pregnant.
Strangely he respected that, if only he was allowed to lead his men. Yet, because he was carrying Menelaus’ royal bastard he was a delicate flower and wasn’t to strain himself. He cursed him yet again.
Soon Achilles came and swept away his friend and in Patroclus’ place sat a young boy. If he remembered this boy served as Achilles’ charioteer and at times caretaker for Prince Alexander.
“Hello,” the child told him pleasantly enough.
Diomedes bobbed his head to return it.
“You seem uncomfortable,” dark blue eyes met his again, patiently waiting for him to answer.
“A tad, yes.” The child-no he was nearly a man nodded again.
“You should rest, it will be better for you and your child’s health. And when you rest, elevate your feet to keep swelling down. Come I’ll escort you back to your camp.”
Diomedes cast an eye at Patroclus’ back, hmm so he had asked this young man to escort him back.
Resigned, he held a hand out for the young man to help him up, “Fine then.” ______________________________________________________________________“Your Highness.” Diomedes grunted at the messenger. He was finally comfortable enough to sleep and yet his peace was broken.
“If it’s Menelaus summoning me to tell him to go shove his half-arsed apologies right back up his arse and keep them there,” he paused, “And if he sends me another messenger, tell him I’ll send ahead back. Especially one that thinks he is well within his rights to wake me as I sleep.”
With that settled, he enjoyed the way the man shakily bowed at him before rushing out.
Maybe Patroclus had the right idea, threats worked wonders.
He groaned as his child kicked him in greeting. Cheeky little thing.
For the Gods’ sake, he had just gotten him to sleep. He sighed tiredly rubbing at his belly again.
“Hush now, I know we were disturbed but it’s time to rest. We both need to sleep. Kick me as much as you like later but for now, rest.” Diomedes paused a moment feeling nothing, he rubbed once more before comfortably snuggling back in his covers.
Just as he breathed out a sigh of relief a very sharp kick to his bladder.
Stubborn little- part of him wanted to laugh but mainly he just wanted to cry. This would be the third night in a row with no sleep.
“Ah well then at least you’re no pushover. But when you’re older, discipline is something-.” Fucking Hades, Diomedes felt tears prick at his eyes.
That hurt it really fucking hurt.
And he needed to pee.
Again for the thousandth time, he cursed Menelaus. Damned him to the very Pits of Tartarus. ___________________________________________________________________________________________________When he returned, Prince Alex was pressed into his arms by Briseis
Automedon had expected and even agreed to be left with the little prince for the night at some point, but he hadn’t expected it to happen as soon as the throat of the bull was cut. The priest had taken the bowl and the prince had given his praise to the Gods and speech that they were nowhere to be found. So he would just have to keep him occupied while his parents were off together. ____________________________________________________________________________He had been caught off guard when Achilles grabbed his hand and spirited him away from the feast. When he asked where Alex was, Achilles laughed, “with Automedon.” Patroclus parted his lips to scold him about casting off their son to another when he took in the scene before him.
In the clearing a blanket was waiting was his mother’s lyre, food, and a pitcher and goblets. He was too astonished to say anything until Achilles led him over to it.
Achilles poured him a cup first, “I’m selfish, but I wanted you all to myself.”
Patroclus took it, “So you’re my gift.”
Achilles grinned, and the moonlight made his green eyes gleam mischievously, “Always.”
He hummed taking a sip, before asking, “So you planned this?”
Achilles only grinned again, “Perhaps.”
“Honestly, I just wanted to sit and drink with you like we used to,” Achilles mused refilling his cup. He didn’t want a crowd or noise, he just wanted him.
Achilles continued his tradition of composing him a new song for his birthday, each note was sweet and thrilling. This time there were no tears, only laughter, and remembrance of their nights in Pithia when they would drink then tumble into bed together until the Sun rose.
As they gazed at the stars, Achilles asked: “Remember when we were moments from being discovered with my father’s prized wine.” Patroclus found himself smiling at the memory, already feeling warm and flushed from the wine.
“The servants would have caught us had we not hidden in that alcove.” Achilles snickered. They poured wine and fed each other grapes trading stories from their shared youth. The tricks they had played on the servants and tutors. Reminiscing on how they fell in love under the stars.
Achilles mused, “It was a night like this when I finally mustered up the courage to tell you how I felt. That I had fallen for you so deeply that I could no longer keep it from you.”
Patroclus smiled, “You speak as though it has not been a year since then.”
“It feels like a lifetime has passed, perhaps because I have you by my side.”
Achilles was right everything felt so perfect, a year ago he had never dreamed that he would be happy or so blessed.
Patroclus sat up slightly, “Hmm, you’re right. It does feel like an eternity since then.” A year ago under these very stars, a vow was pledged and a lifelong one born out of it.
“We probably conceived Alex on a night like this,” Patroclus remarked casually, but Achilles heard the care behind it. In fact, he could pinpoint the very night, the night the prophecy had been revealed. Their desperate need to forget everything and only be with each other. “Or when we let the wine get the better of us.” Which in the weeks leading up to their departure it could have been any of those days.Patroclus snickered a bit before laying next to him. The moonlight gave him such a beautiful glow, no he was always beautiful. Patroclus let his fingers trace at Achilles’ collarbone before whispering, “You know that when you drink, and I mean really drink. You speak like a poet, and when you spoke against my skin, I became yours.” Achilles caught his fingers in his.“I’m no poet, I only speak because I know and have seen your beauty.”Patroclus giggled as he kissed them, “But you are my Achilles. You sing and weave such beautiful stories, tell me how you are not a poet.”“Only for you, my love and only you.” Achilles breathed, capturing his lips._________________________________________________________________________Achilles was still making marks against his neck, gripping his hips when they heard sounds of footsteps and laughter they hadn’t been the only couple to sneak away from the festivities.
“We should go,” Patroclus said, fixing his tunic back around him. Achilles whispered, “Stay.” already mouthing at his neck. Gods did he want to.
“Mh love, we’ve played around long enough.” His lover sighed but dressed.
As they were leaving the clearing, Patroclus noticed a particularly wicked gleam in Achilles’ eyes.
“How about a race to the cliffs overlooking the camp.” He pondered it for only a second before his feet chose for him. Behind him he could hear Achilles’ soft noise of surprise, of course, he wouldn’t win but it would be fun nonetheless. Just for a moment, he felt young and carefree again.Reaching the cliff, Patroclus wanted to collapse on his weak and shaky legs, Achilles was patiently waiting for him at the edge. The bastard even grinned at him. How did he have so much energy after all that they had drunk? All Patroclus wanted to do currently was sleep.
“Tired,” Achilles teased.
“Very.” before he laid right there in the grass. He glanced up to see Achilles towering over him before they were lying side by side. Fingers just barely touching.
“Go to sleep, I’ll take you home.”Achilles whispered. Patroclus let his fingers entwined with his as he drifted off. ____________________________________________________________________________________When he woke up, Patroclus realized that he was back in their tent, throwing the covers back glanced around. No sign of Achilles’ armor, or the sound of Alex’s familiar babble. He panicked for only a moment before realizing that Automedon had him.
Methodically, washed his face and changed before leaving their tent to retrieve him.
“Patroclus,” someone called, he turned to see Automedon with his baby at his hip.
Alex drowsy clung to him, obviously, he had just been woken up. Poor thing, he must have not slept well without him.
Taking him kissed his soft curls, “Good morning, my love.”
His baby gave him a soft, “Papa.” before he was dozing back off.
“Thank you for looking after him,” Patroclus told the younger boy, who grinned tiredly.
“It wasn’t a problem, I don’t think he noticed you two had left until it was time to put him to bed.”
Alex could be a right terror when he wanted to be, especially at bedtime. “Sorry.”
Automedon shook his head, “I’m used to it, remember my many nieces and nephews.”
“Still, I apologize for inconveniencing you.” Automedon rolled his eyes this time.
“We’re friends, you don’t even have to apologize. I was happy to do it, besides the prince is just a sweet babe spoiled by his mother. I can’t blame him for missing you.” he smiled at the praise.
“Oh, I know, but I can’t help but want to give him everything.”
Automedon’s blue eyes twinkled with mirth, “You’re getting as bad as Achilles.” He sighed.
“Maybe, but I can’t help it, I look at him and I can deny him nothing.”
“It’ll be fine, Achilles too was very spoiled, but hopefully he’ll grow out of it.” At the thought of his lover, Patroclus smiled a bit.
“I hope so.”
“Speaking of His Highness should we expect a new prince or princess?” Automedon teased. The reaction was instantaneous, Patroclus as red as a beet.
“I-I leave that in the Gods’ hands.” Patroclus stuttered, “but at the same time-.” realizing he had missed a vital ritual in his daily routine. The bitter tea is filled with herbs to prevent another child.
Automedon was patient with him, “Did you eat yet?”
He hadn’t only thinking of getting his son back in his arms.
He was going to take his silence as a no, “Then let’s eat, then we can worry about other things”
As the walk Automedon tried to remember just what was left from the festivities, “There is some leftover meat and bread, and I think even a few honey cakes.”
At the word cake Alex, who had been sleeping quietly chimed with interest, “Cake?”
They both laughed, apparently, all that was needed to wake him was honey cakes._________________________________________________________________________Patroclus hummed softly as Alex rolled in the flowers giggling, in his lap a circle of them ready to bestow upon his head.
“Alex, come here love,” he called to him. Alexander turned to glance at him before beginning his journey through the flowers once more as if he hadn’t said anything at all. Patroclus took a breath stubborn little thing just like his father. Depositing his flowers safely on the ground went to get his naughty tot.
Who he could hear was laughing but at what, he didn’t know.
“Alex what are you-?” Patroclus paused at seeing another child with his son. A child with flaming red locks and green eyes that was without a doubt, Pyrrhus. “Mortal.” Thetis greeted. Stunned he could only nod in return.
“I have brought the child. They will meet only once for their paths are not meant to intertwine.” Patroclus frowned slightly, for the Gods' sake they’re children. What did children know of Fate?
“That’s unfair. They are too young to even know who the other is. They are brothers by blood.”
Thetis for once restrained her tongue, she would be civil with him for there were children present, “Half-brothers, born of different mothers. One is legitimate the other… well, I do not need to explain further.”
Patroclus said nothing at her jab, instead of kneeling to gather the children in his lap.
The nerve of this mortal to so blatantly ignore her.
However, watching her grandchildren play so happily made her for a moment forget her grudge with Patroclus. Although she was sure he would never truly let go of his. Nor did she expect him to.
Cooing at them and making them flower crowns. Pyrrhus seemed at home here, next to his brother, they played with each other in only ways they seemed to understand.
Babbling and hugging.
Sweet little things. He couldn’t stop pinching their cheeks.
“No, Papa,” Alex told him, turning back to his brother who appeared confused at why his cheeks had been tugged at.
“No,” Alex told him again, wobbling on his little feet taking his brother with him. From there they played in the flowers. Laughing and hugging.
He and Thetis sat in a mutual silence of understanding, watching them. He would not entertain her questions of Achilles nor would she ask anything of him.
A little while later Alex came back and started pulling on his tunic, Pyrrhus too stared with wide hungry eyes so Patroclus scooped him up too. Never would he deny a hungry child. Both boys constantly nursed at his chest, looking so similar. Chubby cheeked with Achilles’ green eyes.
Now all was right, as it should be.
Oh how he wished he could have convinced Achilles more firmly to take Pyrrhus, then they all would have been together.
Thetis watched as Patroclus fed both children, he made no difference between accepting Dedamaia’s child to his breast as if it was right. She should have stopped it or objected to her grandchild to be fed with a bastard, but let it go. Dedamaia was too proud to even think of ruining her breasts and had wet nurses aplenty for Pyrrhus as she had done for Achilles. Looking back she regretted it slightly so many moments she had spent away from her son, moments she could never hope to regain. A bond that would never be salvaged.
Pyrrhus appeared so content in his arms. Happier than when he was with her and her nymphs. Then again this is what had led to Achilles’ corruption. What made him soft and weak-willed. Coddling. If Patroclus wanted to raise a weak child then let him, but Pyrrhus would not be weak. She would never allow it.
She reached to take him only for Patroclus to lean back, both boys at breast.
“Don’t,” he ordered, voice made of steel, “Let him finish.”
She hissed hatefully, “He does not need such a common thing as breast milk. He drinks from the very nectar of the Gods. You’re unworthy.”
The mortal took a deep breath “You say this because I’m feeding him. Anyone else would have been fine. His wetnurse would have been fine, but not me because I’m lowly and wholly unworthy of the privilege to nurse this child.” Pyrrhus comfortably continued his fingers brushing against Alex’s. Patroclus’ heart-filled, sweet babes. Just a little longer and then.
Thetis held her arms out expectantly when both children were burped, and this time he didn’t resist her taking Pyrrhus, who was now fed and content.
Just as she turned away, he found the courage to speak again, “Just as I was unworthy to bear Achilles’ children,” Her blood froze in her veins, Pyrrhus fussed a bit.
Patroclus took another breath this one she assumed was to stop his tears, “I will never forgive you for judging what I was worthy of, of what I deserved. What have I ever done to draw your ire? I have done nothing but…” He stopped, peering down at the child in his arms.
She interjected, “But ruin my son, his future is unclear because of you. My son will give everything up I have worked for if you ask. If you told him how tired you are of Troy, he would sail home with no hesitation,” she leaned closer to him, grasping his face.
Patroclus met her gaze unflinching. Brave little fool.
“Because he loves you, above all. You ruined him. Love is not meant for the likes of Gods, it poisons them, drives them to madness. Consumes them. Love for them is an obsession. You ruined him the day you laid claim to his lips, gave him your virginity, became pregnant with his children. Even now you sully him. How your love will destroy him in the end.”
“Love isn’t a weakness, it is powerful in ways you can’t imagine.” At times love was that kept him going some days.
Thetis laughed then, releasing him, “, Of course, a mortal would think as such. You can not imagine the sheer magnitude of God's love. My son is only part God, but if he was full… it would smother you. He hides so much of his nature from you, refusing to let you see him as anything less than what you remember from your youth. Yet you do. All of his ugliness, all of which you accept in stride.” She shook her head, “You’re as pitiful as my son. He will be your undoing as much as you are his.”
“That isn’t true, I won’t be the cause of his fall. I would never do anything to cause him shame.”
Thetis gazed at him, and for once it was not a gaze of hatred but sadness. “You and he seek to delay or even prevent Fate. It is already written in the stars, everything now is only leading up to them. Patroclus I say this not to be cruel, but merely because the balance must be maintained. Nothing you or I can do about it. Your child had a destiny to fulfill, but he would have died for it. This child too has a destiny but he appears to have a better path.” Her words ignited a long-hidden rage. A wound that would never heal.
Patroclus spoke through gritted teeth, “Don’t speak as if you had nothing to do with his death, Who let you decide that he must die or else he would throw everything into chaos. Don’t speak as if you felt blood spill out of you and know that you are losing him. Don’t ever say his death was Fate’s plan because it was merely your revenge against me for daring to sleep with Achilles. I’m no whore as you like to claim, I have only ever been with and known one man. However, you already knew this as you know how I gave him my purity.”
“I have only loved one man and I will love him with everything I have to give even if it damns me. I love him as he is. Nothing you or anyone else will say will change that. I’m his and he is mine. ”
Thetis tilted her head then, “I wish you luck then, and I pray my son does not consume you.”
She was gone, leaving him alone with Alex. A perfect day ruined by her bringing and then taking Pyrrhus.
Patroclus cursed the very spot where she had stood.Achilles still flushed with the pride of a hard-won victory longed for nothing more than to rest with his family. He wiped an arm across his forehead, feeling the sticky warmth of blood and perhaps a bath.
His men were in high spirits whooping and such that everyone in the camp came to witness the army’s return. Women with children on their hips gathered with some of his men.
For a fleeting moment, Achilles wondered if Patroclus would greet him with Alex before squashing such a thought. No, they could never see him so filthy and bloody coated. He wouldn’t al-
A shout caught his attention, “Achilles!” Achilles startled for only a moment before wrapping his arms around Patroclus.
Holding him moment, felt all of the tension of the day drain out, before remembering that he was covered in blood in every way. His cheek is still covered in the cooling blood.
Patroclus didn’t seem to mind as he took him the initiative to kiss him fully and deeply.
Achilles promptly forgot that they’re standing in the middle of camp, making out. Too busy trying to wrap Patroclus' lush thighs around him.
A wolf whistle almost caused him to drop his beloved, Patroclus broke away from him with red and flushed lips with a gorgeous blush painting his cheeks.
“I couldn't resist welcoming you home,” he breathed, fingers still intertwined behind his neck.
Achilles nipped at his bottom lips, “I’m glad you did.” They kissed again, shorter this time.
Patroclus leaned back to brush at the blood on his cheek, Achilles felt shame again instead of arousal simmer in his stomach. He sullied him once again, yet Patroclus said nothing and instead led him back to their tent.
Lewd shouts followed their departure but they paid their rowdy men no mind. Gossiping women the lot of them.
“Now let me get you cleaned up.” Patroclus teased, closing the flaps of their tent.
Obediently Achilles let him strip him of his bloody armor, which he piled neatly in the corner to be cleaned later.
Patroclus’ ever gentle hands gently undid his tunic and sandals. A slight touch to his arm led him to the ever warm tub. Sinking into the warm water, let out an involuntary sigh. Patroclus hummed a bit behind him before his hands were back on him. Scrubbing at his hair, skin, fingers efficient yet kind. Then they were gone again, Achilles would have missed them had a weight not settled in lap.
This time instead of hands Patroclus cleaned him with his lips, pressing and sucking where they could at his face, lips, neck. Cleansing him of his sins, absolving him of the blood that coated him. Blood that circled them in thin ropy rivers. Tainting them both.
“Tilt your head back,” he ordered breaking their kiss, reaching around him to grab a vase. By the Gods he was so warm and smelt so sweet, Achilles did the opposite of his order and buried his face in his neck.
Patroclus made a small noise of surprise but adjusted himself so that pressed perfectly in his lap. His fingernails scrubbed lightly at his scalp and he made another sound of pleasure. Neither of them moved.
Then a moment later, Patroclus stopped remarking how difficult he was making his job, “You’re making it difficult to get you clean.”
“What if I don’t want to get clean, what if I want to stay dirty in this tub with you. Dirty it even more?” Achilles was only teasing, yet Patroclus took it seriously.
His focus going from his hair wandering down to his cock. The water around them shifted as he jumped a bit, undeterred Patroclus continued stroking him in such an unhurried manner that it was drying him crazy.
Patroclus slowed his rhythm to include toying with his balls, Achilles was being driven to the very edge of pleasure. Zeus above he was so close, Patroclus must have felt it too because he whispered into his ear, “Let go, I got you.”
He shivered, letting himself completely let go.
Achilles’ hands found their way around his waist, and yet Patroclus nimbly evaded his touch. Teasing he was teasing him terribly. Touching him, kissing him, and yet he didn’t mind his pampering. So this time when he was prompted to tilt his head back to wash out the lather, he did.
Feeling complete and utterly spent, let his neck rest at the rim of the tub. Hating to get out, if not the fact Patroclus was ready with a towel at the hand. “Lie down, love,” Patroclus commanded, next to him on the bed, a vial sat ready.
He raised an eyebrow, now he was curious as to what Patroclus had planned. Yet, he was obedient, laying down were directed. His lover hummed thoughtfully pouring the oil into his hands, warming it.“On your stomach,” he laid down letting Patroclus ease the ache in his muscles. Tension left him with each rub and for a moment felt the call of sleep.“Turn for me,-chilles,” Achilles jolted a bit at Patroclus’ voice, when had he gone to sleep? Sluggishly he did and Patroclus settled across his lap, waking him up a bit. There was no other noise between them as the sounds of quiet noise of oil being rubbed into his skin. Sandalwood, his tired mind supplied. “Something wrong, I can tell.” Patroclus paused for a moment, to pour more oil into his hands. Which returned to his skin, kneading and pressing against his shoulders, he groaned a little.
“Patroclus,” Achilles said, “What is it?”
“Hm, why would something be wrong?”
You’re acting strange. Not that Patroclus wasn’t always tender to him, however, this was too much. There was an unspoken tension to the way he touched him as if he would never do it again.

“I can tell, what is it?” Patroclus still straddled across him glancing down at him, looking very like a startled deer.
“Nothing,” Patroclus laughed, leaning further and further into his neck lips teasing at his pulse.
“It’s something.” Patroclus paid him no mind, hands already retreating.
“Let it rest for now. I’ll tell you after you have slept.” He wanted to Gods, did he want to but he would never not with the way his mind was racing.
“Won’t you tell me now?.” Patroclus frowned but before it could fully form, schooled his face.
Patroclus kissed his forehead, brushing damp hair as he did so. “Not yet, be patient won’t you? I will tell you I promise. Sleep now my love, a meal will be waiting for you when you wake up.” Achilles would have argued much more intensely had he not been so relaxed or so tired.
“Fine then be that way.” Achilles returned sulkily. Patroclus laughed.
“And you said Alex gets his pout from me. When he clearly gets it from you.”
“He does though-,” Achilles trailed off when he glanced back he was asleep.
Patroclus watched him a moment before going to retrieve both Alex and a meal for the three of them._______________________________________________________________________________________Achilles woke up to both the smell of food and the laughter. Patroclus was laughing at their darling babe, who was always cheerful.
“Bread, love,” Patroclus said.
“Dwead,” Alex repeated happily holding it out to him.
“Thank you,” and he broke it into two smaller pieces handing them to him. When he finished those Patroclus smiled and held out another piece of food to him.
“Cheese,” he said softly. Alex stared and stared.
Patroclus understanding said it more slowly breaking it apart, “Che-es-e”
“Cwesse.” Close enough. Patroclus gave him a piece and he spit right back out. Achilles snorted, maybe it wasn’t to his taste.
Alex saw him and called his name.“Ach”
Patroclus greeted him with a chaste kiss, “Hungry?”
“A little,” he admitted a little sheepishly.
“I’ll fix you a plate,” Patroclus held Alex out to him, “Hold him a moment.”
Finally, they were having a meal together, Alex was back to his usual tugging at Patroclus’ clothing hoping for milk. Which he surprisingly undid, letting his rest against him. No wonder he had spit out the cheese if he was getting his favorite.
“I thought you’re weaning him.” Patroclus gave him a very long and tired sigh.
“Trying and failing, I want to Gods, I do but his tears break my heart every time. I can’t starve him for my own comfort.” Gods, Patroclus was such a doting mother.
“He can have a wetnurse, it won’t hurt him any. If feeding him yourself is..” Achilles stopped, “hurting you,” when he realized Patroclus’ attention was on the little babe to his chest. A tender smile as he brushed at his child’s face, the complete and utter maternal love. His own heart was struck with loneliness, never had he had such a bond with his own mother.
“Hm, Achilles did you need me?” Patroclus asked a moment later. Achilles shook his head.
“No, my love I didn’t.”
______________________________________________
They retired but because he had slept earlier he couldn’t sleep, “Patroclus,” he called to him.
“Achilles,” Patroclus answered back.
“What happened today? Why were you so…” he trailed off unsure of the word to use.
Achilles finally settled on, “Nervous, frantic even.” Patroclus took a breath.
“I was obvious then.”
Achilles wasn’t sure if after all these years why Patroclus still tried to hide things from him and yet?
“A little, you nearly had me at the end,” he breathed against his neck, “but something was holding you back. Why?”
Patroclus took another long shuddering breath, “Your mother.”
“What about her?” He bit out.
“She-never mind it. Just let it rest.” How could he his mother had dared to disturb his family after he had explicitly told her not to?
“She knew she wasn’t even meant to be near you or Alex. What did she say?”
Patroclus rolled to face him, “I think she misses you.”
He snorted, “A shame, surely. She should have thought of that before she tried hurting you and Alex. I could have dealt with her arranging my life as she wished but I drew the line at her hurting you.”
“Achilles.” Patroclus pleaded quietly, “She is your mother, and mothers just want to be there. Even if she… ”
“If she was ever there for me in the beginning, I would have more sympathy for her, but she-” he sighed. The words hung there, the thought of what she had done was too painful for both of them.
Achilles kissed his forehead, fingers rubbing at his back, “You’re too kind at times, your heart is so forgiving.”
Patroclus huffed, “I didn’t forgive her, I could never. I pity her.”
“You shouldn’t she made her choices now she must live with those regrets. Of things, she will never know and be included in.”
“She brought Pyrrhus to meet Alex, he is such a sweet babe...poor thing he was hungry and I only did what felt right.” Of course, he did, Patroclus has a heart that was so gentle that he would never shun a hungry child.
“How big is he now?” Achilles asked softly, fingers still running along his skin.
Patroclus described his son to him, “He is as big as Alex, and they are both walking and talking. He has the prettiest red hair, it's like when the Sunsets. A mixture of the most brilliant reds and oranges and his eyes are yours. By the Gods, Achilles he is just as chubby as Alex. They are so cute together.”
Achilles smiled sadly, “I wish I could have seen him.”
“I wish you could have too.” The night was quiet with only the chirping of insects when Achilles filled it.
“I regret leaving him, I should have never left him. No matter how angry I was at Thetis or Daedamia, it wasn’t right. He is my child I should have never...” he admitted on the verge of tears, his sweet child.
“Did she say when she would bring him again?” Achilles asked, a spark of hope growing in his chest. Patroclus fell quiet, and that bright light dimmed.
“I think I offended her in some manner as she left after I fed him.”
Achilles hummed, “I see.”
“Perhaps, they will meet again. I pray for it.”
Patroclus hummed too sleepy to answer, leaving Thetis’ chilling words unsaid.
“He’ll consume you.” He hid a shiver and pushed further against Achilles.
Even so, he would let him.

Achilles snuggled his neck.
He already had.

The dying days of summer were spent lounging around the lake, it was far too hot to do much but swim. So Patroclus often took Alexander to the play at the river or beach with the other women and children.
Alex liked the water, and as his father said he was drawn to it. Which meant...
“Alex come back here!” Patroclus shot up in a fast to grab his tot from going to the edge of the riverbank.
His naughty babe just laughed, not understanding how dangerous his actions were.
“By the Gods, I swear you grow more and like your father every day.” Patroclus muttered to his still giggling babe, “Mischievous.”
Alex stopped a moment and the way he quirked his brow had him laughing too. Blowing a raspberry to his tummy had his baby laughing even louder.
“Patroclus!” Briseis called to him, tunic half-submerged in the water, “Come swim it’s too hot to not be in the water.”
Alex was cheerfully babbling, tiny hand hitting against him.
“Alright, we’re going into the water in a minute.” Patroclus told him.
“Coming!” he shouted back. Alex laughed, pleased at getting his way. Carefully he stepped into the water.
It was soothing against his skin, refreshing even. Alex clung to him watching the water ripple around them.
“Cold,” he told him.
He beamed at him, “It is, but it feels better than the heat.” Alex looked at him for a moment trying to pick up new words.
“H-,” Alex was trying to say something when they both flinched at a wave of water over them.
Briseis laughed as she sent another wave their way.
Shifting Alex to his other hip, retaliated against her. She squealed trying again to get away from the water.
“Patroclus, stop,” she yelled move from another wave he made. He could only smirk at her, too bad. She started it and he was going to finish it.
His baby was still clinging to him for dear life, while he and Briseis slashed and played like children.
Letting the Sundry them, Patroclus placed Alex in his lap as he wrung out his now wet tunic.
“Did you have fun?” His beautiful child just smiled, face curtained by his wet curls. Patroclus kissed his forehead, by the Gods he loved his son.
“I love you, Alex.”
“Wuz you too.” His son put his chubby arms around him as best as he could.
In the sunshine, they were happy._________________________________________________________Alex napped against him as he and Briseis talked. He told her stories and a few things about his childhood. His mother especially as she was the only bright thing in his entire childhood.
“My mother was very beautiful, yet...I look nothing like her.” She sat observing him and the golden hair child cradled in his lap.
“Alex favors you, his smile and dimples are yours.” Patroclus smiled a bit at her praise, she even caught a faint blush. He truly had no idea of his beauty with his sunshine smile and kind eyes, surely which he inherited from his mother.
“They are but everything else is Achilles.” Yes, but Alex had none of Achilles’ nature yet. He was just a sweet child, who adored his mother.
“If your mother was here now she would say you are her handsome son.” Patroclus fell silent at that.
“If only.” He said sadly. Briseis took one of his hands.
“I know what it is like to lose a mother young, but surely she would be proud of what you have endured and what you have become. And she would be absolutely enchanted by Alex.”
Briseis thought about her family for a moment, her mother who died giving birth to her youngest brother, a boy of just twelve when… Father... Brother… even her husband. No men were spared only the women. Gods, only know what would have happened.
“Briseis are you alright?” Patroclus had placed his own hand over hers. All parts of her screamed no, nothing was going to be okay again. Her family was gone, her chance at a normal life gone up in flames with nothing remaining but blood-soaked ashes.
Tears fell then, she had been trying so hard to push past her grief and yet… it still hurts, even now.
A warm hand was at her face, quietly wiping the tears away.
“I’m sorry, Briseis. I’m so sorry.” Patroclus said. What was he sorry for all he had done was had the fortune or misfortune to be Achilles’ lover and be dragged into this God-forsaken war too. Pregnant no less.
She sniffed a bit, “You have nothing to apologize for, I just...my family. I miss them. I mourn for what could have been, what I could have been. I-,” she directed her eyes to the sleeping child,” I would have liked to be a mother as well, yet…” His eyes appeared to peer into her very soul.
“ You can still be a mother.” He could say this with ease because Achilles let him want for nothing. If he ever desired another child, he would merely have to ask. She trusted none of the men here, who were boorish and borderline crude. How the other women thought them good men to have children with, was a mystery to her. Patroclus would be the only one she would ever consider to father a child and he already had borne a child. Achilles only the Gods know how he would react if she made such a desire known regardless of their newfound camaraderie. She was tolerated solely for Patroclus’ sake because at any moment if displeased, he would turn on her just as quickly as a hungry lion.
And yet she could see why Achilles was so overprotective and jealous of Patroclus, he held none of the ego that others boasted of nor did he feel the need to judge others. His kindness was a balm to all that were willing to accept it. She wondered where her appreciation for his care had turned to love. When the way he laughed or smiled made her blush. How watching dote on his child and the other children in the camp, made her heart fill. By the Gods, she wished things could have been different between them. If Achilles had not branded his name on his heart and ruined him for all others. Maybe just maybe she would have had a chance.
A horn sounded and they both jumped. Briseis already knew what that meant, Achilles swaggering in covered in blood and the Gods only know what else. Patroclus would fuss over him and absolve him of all his sin and wrongdoings. Washing them away with the bathwater.
As if…
“Patroclus,” Achilles called, his quick feet already carrying him to them. Briseis jerked her hand away from Patroclus’ so quickly it was as if she had been burned. Patroclus turned slightly. His lips already turning up and eyes brimming with joy and relief. Relief that he had come home safely. She tried to sympathize with him but she couldn’t find the will to. Achilles would never be wounded or killed unless he let them, nothing would harm him and yet everyday Patroclus sat anxiously praying for his return. His heart was too kind to see that he doted on a bloodthirsty beast that did not need his affection or care. Perhaps that was her jealousy peeking through.
Achilles settled next to them in the glass, for once his armor was clean of red yet he reeked of sweat.
Patroclus smiled leaning against his shoulder, his eyes fluttering close a bit. He was a vision further enhanced by the sun creating a halo around him.
“Are you hurt?” Achilles rested his head on his. It was so intimate, she felt a little awkward just being here.
“I’m not, I promise.”
He hummed, “You’re back early.”
“It’s too hot to fight.” Achilles sighed against him, “and I’m tired.” She withheld a snort, tired of killing. Perish the thought.
Patroclus was more sympathetic to his plight, “Then go swim for a few minutes to cool off.”
“Are you coming with me?” Patroclus laughed quietly against him.
“Your son is sleeping.” Alex hadn’t even startled at the noise, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Achilles grinned at his son, reaching out to touch him before stopping as if remembering. A sliver of pity shot through her, to be afraid to touch or hold your own child because of the invisible bloodstains on your hands.
“Later then. We’ll swim when he wakes up.” Achilles decided. Patroclus butted his head off.
“Go, you’re sweating.” Achilles laughed, impishly rubbing against him again before stripping off his armor. Patroclus watched him jump in with a soft fond look in his eyes. She imagined her expression was the same for him.By the Gods, what a mess. “Achilles, stop it.” Patroclus shrieked trying and failing to move away from Achilles’ powerful waves.
“Never.” Achilles taunted back. Sending on that drenched completely, he looked at him through water-soaked curls. Bastard.
“ Achilles!” Achilles had him by the waist trying to pull him under. Briseis watched them play while Alex slept in her arms, Patroclus caught her eye and he smiled. She returned before rising gently, Alex was a sound sleeper but even all of this noise would wake him up.
And that leaving would give her a chance to mend her aching heart.
Patroclus waited until Briseis was well out of view before stripping off his tunic, he complained, “Are you pleased now, I’m completely soaked yet again, I just had dried off.” Achilles only laughed, removing his own.
“Not yet you aren’t.” Achilles smirked, crowding into his space. Heat instantly flooded his body and it wasn’t the weather either.
“Oh, then-,” Achilles grabbed him suddenly dunking him underwater. He came up sputtering and cursing.
"Now you are," Achilles cooed. Patroclus forgot how childish he could be at times. Nonetheless, he shouldn't start wars he wasn't able to finish.
They splashed at each other a while longer, growing lazy let the current led them further down the river. They came to rest at a spot that was well shaded and secluded. Patroclus stretched out to dry, realizing that even if he was dry he had nothing to wear.
“Oh, I left my tunic further up.” Achilles threw him a cheeky grin before ducking back into the water. Moments later, he held both of their soaked tunics in hand. Patroclus grinned softly at him.
“Thank you, love.” He said pecking his lips. In the shade, they lay touching just barely. Patroclus was struggling against the heat trying to rest before he could take it no longer. As quickly as he dried off, he was back to being coated in sweat. Enough was enough and he plunged back into the water. Cool and refreshing, Achilles watched him amused before joining him again.
“It’s too hot to lay out like you were,” Achilles whispered, drawing Patroclus close, “unless you were trying to tempt me~.”
Dark eyes teased him, the sunlight caught them making them appear oak brown. “If I was, what of it?” Patroclus said coyly, not even trying to deny it.
Achilles blinked a little, he was being bold today. Such a shame it was so hot today...unless…
“I’m yours and you are mine there is no shame in looking at what is already yours.” Patroclus finished, biting slightly at his red lips. By the Gods, he was going to be the absolute death of him saying such things.
“I take you as you are and you accept me as I’m,” he said this so freely and yet Achilles had never asked before the reason why.
“Why do you love me?” it was merely his curiosity that needed to be satisfied. Patroclus offered everything to him so freely that he was too greedy at times.
Patroclus swam over to where he was and wrapped his arms around his neck. Droplets ran from his down his face highlighting his pretty full lips. The dying sunlight haloed around him appearing to make him divine, in his sight he already was.
Patroclus’ lips quirked up in an already blinding smile.
“Because you were kind to me.” Achilles parted his lips to correct him. Patroclus held a finger to his lips.
“ You are always kind, you won my heart long ago with your actions. You constantly tried to make me laugh. Doing silly things to make me smile, even when I thought you were a spoiled brat,” he laughed a little, eyes shining with happiness.
“You were always welcoming, and always trying to make me comfortable and happy. No one has ever made me feel so loved. Nor will anyone ever again. My Achilles, I love you and only you for as long as I hold the breath in my body,” he finished pressing their foreheads together. He was speechless, rendered completely stunned by his lover.
Achilles had no words to say so he expressed it with actions capturing his lips completely.Just as Patroclus claimed he had captured his heart.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Helen watched as yet another day of the battle continued safely from the battlement. The continuous shouts and acrid scent of blood filled the air. This was what the price of her defiance cost, the lives of all these men.
Men she had damned to Hades, all for her beauty.
“Helen, come away from there. There is no need for you to see this.” She acknowledged the voice but could not turn her head away from the horror of it all. If only she….
“Helen,” the voice repeated, but this time she was forcibly dragged away from the platform.
She fought, “Let me go, I have damned them the least I can do is to watch their last moments. I OWE THEM THIS MUCH, please.” she begged towards the end.“Helen, you’ll drive yourself mad watching this. Gods know it drives me mad.” no matter her protest, the figure dragged her along, eyes adjusting to the cool and dark hallway. Here the noise was somewhat muted, but to her, everything was too loud, every scream, shout was another mark against her. Her sin her burden.
Despair filled her, by the Gods what had she done. Why hadn’t she chosen to stay in Sparta? She closed her eyes, no, it was too late. Too late to change her mind.
“How do you bear it, Andromache?” she laughed a bit humorlessly, “ Watching your husband go to the battlefield every day to fix Paris’ mistake.” My mistake went unsaid.
The taller woman was quiet a moment before she sighed, enveloping her in her arms. Helen felt the tears flow.
Andromache soothed, “Hush, Helen, it matters not. What is done is done. Even if you went back, what would happen to you at your husband’s hands? At their hands,” Andromache already knew what men were capable of. The havoc they could wreak simply because they could, no different from squabbling children.
“It’s alright. I do not blame you for your grief. Men will wage wars for the simple reason of greed. Yes, you left because you felt as if you were following your heart. I won’t blame you for that. I could never blame you, for we are sisters through marriage. But I think I us as blood sisters. As your family, we will protect you.”
“No, you can't, they'll destroy Troy for me. I can’t continue to let you,” she argued.
Andromache only held her, thinking of what Hector told her once with his gentle smile, “ Troy has always been destined to fall, but as long as I have breath in my body. It will not fall today.”
Her husband, “Oh my love, be safe and return to me.”
Men what fools they could be starting wars with no regard for the ones who loved them. Fools.
Beneath their feet, the war waged for tattered pride and riches.
__________________________________________________-
“Are you calmer now?” Andromache asked, topping off her cup. Helen had barely touched it, so it was in danger of spilling over.
“I suppose,” she sighed, taking a sip from it. Andromache was careful of her as if she was a cracked vase ready to shatter, in a way she was.
There was only so much more she could take; everything was crushing her.
She glanced over to see the other woman straightening things around the room. Would Andromache be so kind to her if she knew that she coveted her husband or rather his nature? Prince Hector was so kind to all, but his wife, he treated as the finest of treasures. They had yet to have a child together, yet he had not divorced her as Menelaus threatened so many times. Instead, he spent more time in the temple praying for the favor of the Gods.Women in Troy had more rights than Sparta, but women participating in combat was still forbidden. Yet Hector allowed his wife to spar with him as he helped her to improve her skill with a sword or bow, a testament to her heritage and strength. He was faithful to her, taking no mistresses or lovers on the side, and how could he. They were a perfect match, a couple matched by the Goddess Aphrodite herself.Perhaps she was just bitter that Paris was turning out to be no better than Menelaus. Andromache came back to the sofa, and she couldn’t bear to look at her, guilt eating at her. Of what she had caused, what she thought of what and wished was hers.All she had ever wanted was to be seen for more than just her beauty. Instead, she started a war for what she dreamed was love. Was it too much to not be taken against her will, have healthy children instead of many stillbirths and miscarriages, to have a husband who would be faithful to her?
I wish I had been born plain and ordinary, for if I was, I could be like those who knew of love and respect.
These were not for Helen of Troy, as they called her now. She sighed as the faint sound of a horn sounded, the day was ending, and she would weave more men into her tapestry. Andromache had warned her against it, fearing her mental state; however, she found it calming. Her act of penance.
If men were to die for me, then I will enact a great tribute to them.
His hands were coated with blood as he and Machon worked to close the gaping wound in a soldiers’ abdomen. A spear had gone through cleanly, just missing his intestines. It had only been the Gods’ favor that he was still in the land of the living. Patroclus had to save this man, for he knew of the man’s family; if he died, then there would be none to look after them.More wails of pain rang out around him; he could feel the sweat dripping down his face. More were being brought in, and today even Poldarius had stayed. There was no time for breaks, no matter how tired one was. Trojans soldiers had taken a wing of Agamemnon’s by surprise, and the result was the most casualties he had seen in a while.Achilles was still fighting to stem the damage from the attack, and surely Alex was being taken care of by either Automedon or Briseis. Gods, how he missed his chubby babe.“Mother.” His heart squeezed as the young soldier cried out for his mother. Gods.“Patroclus, hold your hand here, I’ll start to stitch him up.” Machon directed. He nodded, placing his hand where he bided.“Mother,” the soldier called out again, “Mother, it hurts. Please help me.” Patroclus wished to increase his dose of painkiller, but Machon shook his head.“It must be saved for those coming in. Our supplies are limited now, and we must only finish quickly to spare him further pain.”
“Machon!” a healer shouted, “another ten are coming.” Machon only nodded and directed Patroclus were to hold as he pulled the needle and thread back through the wound.
“Mother, I’m sorry.”
Patroclus gave him a tender look, wishing to push his hair from his face as he did for Alex, “It’s alright, I’m here.”“Mother,” he called again softer.They were working as fast as they could; everything was growing chaotic. Screams and cries filled the tent, and he felt every bit of their pain.The soldier under them had not cried for his mother again, and by the time they finished, he was dead. Patroclus had no time to ponder or process his death as the next man was placed before them. More were coming in._____________________________________________________________By the break of dawn, Patroclus could feel the crusting of blood on his hands at his temples from where he wiped at his forehead. All night he and the other healers had worked to tend wounds, yet so many had died. The proof of it was drying on his hands and face. Earlier all he had longed for was to see Achilles and Alex, and now he wanted to be alone. He did not wish for them to see his failure as a healer; he was meant to save lives, not lose them. Fifteen men, he had the blood of fifteen men on his hands. In every one of those anguished faces, he could picture his son bleeding and crying out for him. The very thought chilled him to the bone.His mind was haunted. All he could hear was that boy’s cry for his mother. A mother that would never again embrace her child.The thought itself could bring him to his knees. Losing Achilles would destroy him like no other, but Alexander, they would have to pull him from his son’s pyre. To lose the child you carried and nourished in your body, the child that had given hope. Kinder mercy would be to slit his throat for what his life was worth without his husband and son.His heart was too troubled to face them now. Now he understood why Achilles rinsed the blood before he came home, not just to cleanse himself but his mind as well.A muffled noise woke him, leaving his heart racing in his chest. Achilles blindly reached for the dagger under his pillow, scanning the darkroom for danger. Another noise drew his attention to Patroclus, thrashing next to him.Achilles huffed a breath of relief, and it was just a nightmare. Nothing physical, yet he hated it because how could he fight something he couldn’t see. Sheathing the dagger, Achilles gently gathered Patroclus into his arms.“Patroclus, ssh I’m here,” he reassured, rubbing his back, “I’m not going anywhere. Ssh nothing will hurt you while I’m here. It’s alright. I’m here.”He grew quieter, breathing becoming steady again. Yet, instead of yells and thrashing, he got tears. By all the Gods above, Patroclus’ tears hurt him in ways he did not understand. Every time he cried, it felt as if his soul cried with him.Patroclus had not come home until Apollo's chariot had drawn across the sky, blood dried at his temple and hollowed eyes. He did not recount what he had seen, nor had he stopped staring at his hands. As far as Achilles saw, they were clean of blood, but perhaps he felt the phantom sense of its warmth. Alex had long been put to bed, however doing so had been a challenge as his son was used to his lover’s warm embrace and sweet lullabies.This war was taking its toll on them both, yet more so for Patroclus. His lover had not seen the field since that day yet day in and day out saw the aftermath of the atrocities that were committed. He tried his best to heal those who needed it most, but there was only so much he and the other healers could do.Patroclus again wiggled in his embrace, calling his name, “Achilles.”“I’m here, love.”“Achilles,” this time a palm came to rest at his cheek, “I had such a terrible dream.” There was a small tremor in his voice.Achilles arranged himself more comfortably, drawing Patroclus further to his chest. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
“My child, they killed my child.” he sobbed. He froze Alex.Alexander, being hurt, was their worst combined fear, Gods if something ever happened… No, Alex was fine. He had put him down himself, brushing his curls from his chubby cheeks.“Patroclus, he’s asleep in his crib.”Patroclus gripped at his tunic, “He cried for me, as I held him. He called for me as if he could not see me, “Mother, mother save me. Screaming, Achilles. Screaming as he bled out. I wasn’t fast enough, and his wound was too much, there was so much blood. My baby. Gods, my baby.” He was becoming more and more hysterical.“Patroclus ssh, no one will hurt him. I won’t allow anyone to hurt him.”“ I can’t lose him too. I have lost too much. He is-.” Achilles kissed his forehead, trying to soothe him.“Then he will never go like this, I promise you. I will never allow him to go to the battlefield.”Patroclus’ grip only tightened, “He does not have a choice. They are determined to take his life. You or I have no control. My child, my child...”“Who wishes to take his life?” Patroclus’ grip loosened, peering up at him with such a strange expression. As if he held knowledge that was unknown to others. Not for the first time, he wondered if Patroclus’ blood still retained the ichor of the Gods, and that was the cause for his premonitions. Or was it merely madness driven out of fear, a mother’s worry for their child.“You already know.” His voice trembled, but his eyes were of steel.“For they wish to take you away from me too.” Before his husband could say more, a soft cry startled them both. Alex had perhaps felt the oppressive atmosphere and responded to it.Patroclus scooped him up into his arms, and from his lips fell soft words of comfort, “Hush, my darling. I’m here, and as long as I have breath, none will harm you. Not even the Gods themselves.”For his or Alex’s benefit, Achilles did not know all he knew was that their son quieted immediately.“They won’t take him or me.” The sound of his voice startled them both.
Patroclus gave him a rueful look but didn’t comment further than that. All his attention was devoted to cuddling their son. As if someone would rip him from his arms.Had he in some way caused his lover to lose faith in him? For his word was as pure as it had been that night.
Never would he ever allow them to come between him and his family.
After that, Patroclus was back to being his usual and cheerful self or at least pretended to, Achilles could always tell. His lover should have known by now there was absolutely nothing they could hide from each other, for they knew each other too well except for Patroclus’ bleedings in their youth notwithstanding. Everything else was like an open book between them, and yet he wasn’t sure how to fix this latest tension in their marriage. How to restore Patroclus’ trust in him.It was times like these where he missed his father the most that he always knew exactly what to say. However, Achilles wasn’t sure if his father would have been the most reliable source seeing his own parents’ marriage in shambles. Shambles wasn’t the right word, more like nonexistent. His parents only spoke because of their shared love for him. Otherwise, they loathed each others’ guts.Who else could he ask? Patroclus was out of the question as they would argue, and that would lead to more tears and distress. Automedon- he considered but ruled him out due to both his age and proximity to his husband.“Your Highness,” Achilles glanced up to find Phiniox with his arms full of scrolls, “These need your confirmation.” He hid a grimace, not more work. He already had a pile -wait.Achilles decided to ask, “Phoinix, you’re married, correct?” The older man blinked at him.
“Yes, Your Highness. I’m, and we have been married for,” he paused, “ well over twenty years.”Achilles vagued remembered his wife was once one of his caretakers.
“I remember that your wife always gave me sweets.”
Phiniox chuckled, “How could she not you were such a cute child, Your Highness.”“Then you know what to say when your wife is upset? More specifically, with you?” The older man set down the scrolls and joined his once charge at the table.“I admit that I’m always wrong, no matter what.”“That’s it?” he wondered.“That’s it. Admit you know nothing and take all faults. That is how you have a happy marriage,” the older elaborated.
Achilles pondered it. He already did all of that because Patroclus was always right.
“What if I do all of that, and he still crossed with me.” Phiniox wondered what would make Patroclus so cross with his beloved husband, he hardly ever saw the two apart and since the young prince had been born. Love seemed to surround them. Yes, couples usually had disagreements, but for his former charge to ask, then perhaps he should lend him some words of advice.
“Are you sure that he is angry with you?” Phiniox asked patiently.
Achilles faltered.
“Oh”From the apparent distress on his face, he hadn’t.
Phiniox patted his hand, “Don’t assume things either. Always speak with him first before you assume the worst. Trust is the foundation of not just marriage but any relationship.”
“He…,” Achilles sighed, “ appears not to trust my word anymore. He takes them at face value, and nothing passed that, but I have always kept my word to him.”
“Don’t assume you know all, speak with him.” The older man just didn’t understand. There was so much history between them. Prophecies and Godhood, his envy, and greed. The lengths he would go to for Patroclus and his happiness frightened him at times.
Phiniox gave him one last pat before rising, “His Highness has a good temperament, he won’t stay angry with you for long.” Achilles sighed, looking at his even more massive pile.
By the Gods, he hoped the older man was right. Yet Patroclus’ temper could be rather fierce if provoked.Thump-thump
The steady bumping of papa’s heartbeat in his ear comforted him like no other. He was always so warm and safe. Alex snuggled against him further until he was set down.
The place papa always brought him to had so many pretty flowers.
“Look, Alex,” he turned at the sound of papa’s voice. A yellow flower was placed in his chubby fist.
“Pwetty.” It looked tasty too. Alex wanted to find out if it was.
“Alex-don’t,” Alex glanced at his papa, not understanding, everything he gave him was delicious why not this too.
“Bwed?” He asked. His papa sighed, reaching for his food. Alex jerked it away.
“Mine.”
“Not bread.”
“Bwed,” he parroted back, hoping he would just let him eat in peace. Preferably not taking it.
“Not bread, Alex, you can’t eat it,” Papa explained again, hand held out. He didn’t want to give it to him. Papa gave it to him; it was his now.
“No...no,” tears were building behind his eyes. The flower was his. If he wanted to eat it, then let him eat it.
Papa heaved another sigh, before picking another flower. Alex watched him take another and another, until…
It instantly made him drop the flower he held to reach for it, “Pwetty. Mine”
Papa chuckled then, his eyes soft as he held it out to him, “Look, my love isn’t this better.”
A warm hand played with his curls, “It goes in your hair, my love. It’s a flower crown.”
His hand touched his head, he wanted to hold it, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin it.
Papa laughed again, so he laughed too. He loved Papa, and he loved the flowers too.
If only he could eat them.________________________________________________________
Achilles gritted his teeth, all while his sword slid through a man as easily as butter. Dragging the blade out quickly ran it through another.
He would never seek to understand what they sought in trying to engage with him; all it ended with was their deaths. A part of him wished to pity them, but Patroclus' words haunted him," They want to hurt you to see if you bleed to see if you can be conquered."
Letting them see him suffer was as good as admitting his weakness and faults. No one but his Patroclus was allowed such a privilege.
However, his Patroclus was never to see this side of him, the part that was so wanton for bloodshed, the beast that thrived on chaos. He was afraid to show him, for he had once and frightened him while he carried their child no less. Never again.
Achilles whirled around quick enough to parry the blade seeking to strike at his back.
For the Gods’ sakes, it was as if the Trojans were so very eager to meet his blade today.
Unfortunately for them his husband and child-
Achilles caught an arrow aiming for his head, snapping it, and found that it was a gift from Prince Paris. The coward quickly made his way back into the fray, Achilles scanned to see if he could find his older brother but Hector was nowhere to be found. Just as well, he had a promise to keep to his beloved._____________________________________________________The soft sounds of laughter drew him to the meadows. Patroclus often came here with Alex when he felt as if they had not spent enough time together. Surrounded by the blooms made him think back to their last summer on Mt. Pelion, the soft kisses exchanged with even more intimate touches. Patroclus still hadn’t sensed his presence yet, carefully stalking over, placed his hands gently at his shoulders.
His lover didn’t startle as expected, instead leaned back into him.
Tilting his head back, Patroclus’ chocolate eyes met his, “Achilles,” he breathed breathless with joy,“ my love you’re home.”
“ I’m home.” he returned, settling him in his embrace, kissing him softly. Alex never one to be left out babbled for his attention.
“Ach, mwah.” Breaking their kiss, laughed a little at his antic.
Achilles took their chubby babe, kissing his cheeks too.
“Have you been good for your mother?” he asked, bright green eyes peered up at him.
“Ma,” Alex told him.
Patroclus snickered, “He had been anything but mischievous, but you already know your son. But he has yet to cause me any trouble, only..” his husband paused dramatically, giggling “he tried to eat a flower I picked for him and got very upset. When I tried to take it away from him, I had to make him a flower crown to change his focus.” The yellow flowers and white flowers peaked from his golden curls.
“Oh, Alex, my love, you can’t eat flowers. They’re pretty but aren’t tasty.” Alex reached for his face, patting him. Gods, his son, was so cute.
“Ach.”
“What is it, my love?” Alex made the motion to be set down into the grass, so he did.
He wandered just a few feet away from them, and they watched as he picked a flower.
Patroclus groaned, “Oh no.”
“Just wait, my love.” Alex tottered on his little legs back to them, presenting the flower out to him.
A soft white one just like the ones in his hair.
Accepting it, thanked him, “Thank you, Alex.” Pleased with himself, crawled back into his arms. Tiny mouth forming a yawn as he did so. It was well past his nap time anyway.
Patroclus brushed at his curls, sighing, “He refused to take his nap today, yet when his father comes home, he falls asleep instantly. How spoiled you have him.”
Achilles adjusts their little one carefully, “I can’t help it. I’m hardly ever home, so he misses me and I miss him too.”
“I miss you too. I hate it when you go. When all I want to do is to keep you home.”
Alex’s fingers cling to him in his sleep; he pulls him closer.
“I know my love, believe me, I know. I hate it, too, more than anything.” Achilles longed for nothing more than to be home with his husband and child, but Fate had other plans.
Patroclus leaned on his shoulder, “ You hate it, yet you continue to pay the price.” Something in his tone reminded him of the night before and how his lover spoke of such things.
“You frighten me at times,” he admitted, “how you speak with such a finality based on what you have seen.”
A soft breeze circled them, as his lover sighs yet again, “I have seen nothing as of late, but even if I told you, you think me mad.” For Hades’ sake, Patroclus had thought himself mad during pregnancy as he was plagued by nightmare after nightmare.
Letting his head rest on his, “Never my love for your blo-,” Achilles paused when he saw Ganymede in the trees shaking his head and mouthing at him, “Don’t you dare. It would only serve to burden him.”
Achilles bit his lips instead, trying what Phiniox advised, “I’m sorry if I made you feel as if you are mad because ...sometimes it seems as if you are the only one around me willing to speak the truth. Truth, which I’m never ready to accept or listen to. ”
Patroclus quietly snorted next to him, “You just realize this?”
“Maybe,” he hummed back, more amused than offended. He didn’t want them to fight anymore, didn’t want his beloved worried, or sad all he wanted was him happy again. “but you love me anyway.”
This got his favorite sound, Patroclus’ sweet laugh.
“My reckless Achilles, of course, I love you,” Patroclus gasped slightly out of breath, “I’ll never stop loving you.” By the Gods hearing, Patroclus admitting his love for him would never cease to make his heartbeat erratic.
“I’m sorry,” Achilles repeated once again. By all the Gods new and old, he was. Patroclus shuffled beside him until he felt the warm press of lips at his cheeks.
“It’s alright, I forgave you long ago,” lips pressed at him again, “I don’t understand things myself lately. I thought they were merely what I had experienced replaying as nightmares, until...”
Ah, now Patroclus had begun to feel a small sliver of doubt as to if he should continue.
Alex squirmed so suddenly in his sleep that he had to arrange him so that he wouldn’t fall carefully. His tiny hands were clinging to him still, planting a small kiss on his forehead. Achilles wished him nothing but sweet dreams.Seeing his son settled, refocused his attention to his husband, “What happened yesterday?”
Patroclus settles back into his shoulder, he speaks so quietly that he has to strain to hear him, “A man-no he was only a boy, died screaming for his mother. He died, thinking I was his mother.”“Then what did you dream of that night.” Achilles probed gently, Alex slumbered still unaware of how his parents fretted. Fearful for his future, their future.Patroclus buried his head further into his shoulder, “Alex was on a battlefield, older. Alone. It’s raining. There is mud up to his knees. Bodies piled everywhere. He was injured holding at his side, but the blood was just flowing out of him, it just kept flowing-,” his voice broke, “He collapses there, I just barely get to him, I’m trying to close the wound...but he’s dying and with his dying breath, “Mother, Mother save me.” Warmth wets at his tunic, his
love is crying.“Then comes the laughter, Achilles. The horrible all-consuming laughter. Their laughter at my failure to keep my son safe. My failure as his mother. They took him away from me, and there was little I could do to stop them..”“I won’t let them take him,” Achilles was startled by his voice, by the intensity of it. Patroclus froze next to him, so he reigned it in.
“Love, you know I would never let that happen. I would rather-.”Patroclus gave a humorless snort against him, “Die then let something happen to him. Don’t you see Achilles? That is what they are waiting for. What your mother is waiting for?” What will come to pass regardless?If Achilles had to swear it to him a million times over then so be it, he would never seek to betray the trust his lover had placed in him, “Husband I have made a vow to you, and I will not break it, with every fiber of my being I swear this to you. Tell me what I will have to do to ease your worries.”Patroclus wanted to confess to him the thoughts that plagued him on the beach in Phthia so long ago. If I asked you to stay for me, would you?
If I asked you now if we could sail home, would you?

If I asked you to give it all up, would you?
Patroclus wrapped an arm around him, “I trust you, my love. It is them. I do not trust.” You shouldn’t trust them either.
“I worry more because we have a child now, things are different. Achilles, I fear for his safety as a mother. I only want… you two safe.”“Then, my love, what will it take to place your mind at ease.” Achilles pleaded anything to make his heart lighter.
Sailing home, where you are safe from Odysseus’ half baked promises of Glory and Godhood. Free from Agamemnon’s unreasonable demands. Where you are free to raise your sons in peace, growing old with me.
But Phthia wasn’t safe either Thetis’ influence had shown that and he could imagine the same for the other Gods. Nowhere was safe for his family.So he swallowed all of his doubts, vowing to speak of this no more. Patroclus lied yet again and prayed this would be the last time.“Aren’t you doing all you have promised, then I have nothing to worry about. I’m sorry for spoiling our afternoon.” He was greedy in wanting more than Achilles was willing to give because deep down, he knew Achilles wanted this more than anything.Godhood was what his whole life had been leading up to, to ask for him to give all of that up, especially now that he was so close. He would resent him.Kissing his temple, trying to convey his promise that he would not let their family be torn apart. “Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all. You have ruined nothing. If anything, I have been blessed by my time with you and Alex.” An afternoon spent with his sweet son napping in his arms and his lover at his side was one of the greatest gifts he could experience.If the Gods wanted to grant him immortality, then so be it. If not, then he did not need it. Godhood was strictly for his family’s sake, and if it cost him that family, then what was the point.Achilles spoke no more after that, just holding him and their little one close. Patroclus felt that today he had lost a great battle and that it wouldn’t be his first defeat, for there were many more on the horizon.But for now, he would count his days with his lover and son as precious.
Another arrow found its mark into a deer, after a moment it fell. Patroclus adjusted his bow around his shoulder, putting out the arrow as Achilles slung the deer around his shoulders. A soft grin was shared between them. It had been a while since they had gone hunting together.
“Second one you shot today,” Achilles said casually, “ I wonder if you’ll leave any for the men.”
“Take pity on them after all, because not all have your talent.”
Patroclus gave him a soft laugh, “Then how is that my fault.”
“Hmm, you should train them better,” he mocked.
His lover snorted, “I run drills with them. I leave weapon training to you, my love.”
“So it’s your fault, not mine.” he teased.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to train you better so you can train them. It wouldn’t bode well for our reputation if our men can not shoot a single Trojan.”
Patroclus’ lashes lowered a tad, “Training’ again with you; however, will I survive. I have never been so exhausted in my life,” he sighed sadly, “I could barely walk afterward. Take pity on me.”
Achilles hummed as if considering it, “I’ll see.”
“Achilles~,” Patroclus whined.
“I’ll see.” is all he repeated.
Summer finally gave itself entirely to Autumn, and they slowly fell back into their regular routines. Yet in the back of his mind, that thought lingered. However, he had made a vow to not dwell on it any; further, time spent with his husband and child was his hard-won victory.Alexander had grown so cheeky lately. He was no longer wanting to be held and kissed by him instead craving independence. Patroclus wasn’t going to lie, it hurt his heart a tad to have his little one protest his gestures, but he was proud of how well he was growing. Every day he was picking up words, gestures, and growing ever rambunctious.Achilles, too was busy, with what. He had no idea because his lover wouldn’t tell him. His husband’s eyes held a mischievous glimmer every time he hinted at it though, teasing him further with kisses pressed at his lips and neck, “You’ll be so surprised.”Idly he wondered if it was another chest filled to the brim with treasure or a weapon. Achilles had gifted him a beautiful dagger for his 17th birthday. Surprisingly it was not gaudy glinted with
gold and ornamental but similar to the one he carried at his hip, simple for any task."Ma," Alex tentatively tugged at the hem of his tunic. No matter how old his baby was, he would always be complete and utterly spoiled."Yes, my love?"“Mama,” Alex repeated, and his heart melted further.“Play?” his son asked sweetly, offering him a toy ship. Patroclus scooped him up with little resistance, a rare feat these days.“Always, my love,” Patroclus assured him, brushing back his soft curls. However, before he continued to soak up his baby’s sweet presence, the tent flapped open.Automedon’s head poked in briefly to convey his message, “Your Highness, the prince, needs your assistance.”Patroclus frowned before hoisting Alex up further on his hip, wondering what had happened.
Stepping outside, there was confusion all around. Men with axes and logs slung over shoulders. Avoiding busy men, he searched for a hint of his lover’s bright hair. Yet, there was no sign of him or Automedon.Warm lips pressed against his neck, Achilles whispered a moment later, “Patroclus.”
Patroclus let his lips curled into a smile. He never had to look too far for his lover; Achilles always had a way of making himself known.“You called for me,” he returned. Achilles hummed behind him, not giving him a straight answer.
Instead, he asked, “Do you like it?” He was curious, eyeing the various men and the wood.
Another boat? Patroclus could only guess.“I do, but what are you doing?” Achilles’ warm breath again settled against his neck.
He could almost hear the pout in his words, “ Patroclus, it’s just as you had proposed.”
The realization hit him then, the plans he had casually shown him were being placed into effect.
Patroclus whipped around to face him, Alex made a startled noise at being moved so suddenly,
“You’re building it,” he asked in awe.Achilles wanted to roll his eyes. His love had asked for it, so it was to be done.“Of course, why else,” he gestured to men carting away wood and clearing land, “would they be doing all of this.”Achilles kissed him again, muttering when they parted, “With some minor alterations.”Before he even had a chance to ask about these “alterations,” Achilles turned slightly and was taking Alex from him going over to Phiniox, leaving him feeling a bit stunned. He huffed glancing over at his husband and child, now what was he to do. Alex, his sweet little babe, was happily soaking up his father’s attention. Patroclus had to resist the urge to pout; it wasn’t fair that he went to his lover so quickly. Yet, the sight of his son in his father’s arms made his heart stir. The complete and utter love in Achilles’ eyes when he pressed a kiss to their son’s forehead, the sweet look of adoration his son returned. He lingered a moment before going to turn bumping into something solid.An apology began to fall from his lips, “Excuse me-” The words dried up upon seeing just who he had bumped into.“Patroclus, no harm done. I merely came to sate my curiosity,” grey eyes gleaming with a sharpness. Before Patroclus could even ask, he continued, “The men talk,” he shrugged, “Prince Achilles is constructing something in his camp.”Of course, the man was never one to stay away; it was if he had a keen sense for finding things that did not concern him all with his usual swanning.Odysseus moved next to him, observing the organized chaos, it was apparent he was here to speak with Achilles, yet just had to antagonize him.“I see you’re still exercising your power over him. Huh?” he asked casually as if discussing the weather. Not at all accusing as intended.All of his words had a way of inciting simmering rage in him, like none of which could be compared. How they fell sweet and honeyed from his lips, hiding the venom and behind them.
“I exercise none of this so-called power over him,” he bit back. Pity that they could never have conversations without hidden jabs and insults, it was a pity because he would have loved to pick at his brain.Odysseus snickered a bit, focusing his attention on the prince with his son at hip directing men, “Oh, but you do, you just never realize until now how far he’ll go.”Patroclus already knew Achilles would accept nothing less than spoiling him in every way. Nothing he asked for was too large of a task. If he even mentioned it in passing, it would be enacted for him. Both very heartwarming and vexing at times, depending on what it was.Still… to imply that he was somehow whispering into his lover’s ear like some kind of puppet master was rage-inducing.He had to bite at his lip to keep his tongue from saying something, surely he would regret it. Gods know with Odysseus it would take very little.Odysseus watched him amused. There was no need to pretend. All could see the length Achilles would go to for his Patroclus. And he for him. Their weakness was, after all, each other, a weakness that, if exploited properly, could yield favorable results.“Tell whatever lies you need to placate yourself, but deep down, you know with that all it takes is the right word. All it takes is one word, and he succumbs to your every whim and flight of your fancy. You know very well the lengths of what he would go to satisfy you.” The words, “How he would kill for you. Die for you” went unspoken yet felt all the same. Surely by now, Patroclus understands the sway he now held over him. Achilles would listen to no other but him, unknowingly he had tamed the demigod and made him bend to his will. A victory no other had dared to attempt. How could one even dare to tame one with God’s blood? If he didn’t, it was a pity. Because in war, every weapon was to be utilized to the fullest extent.
Gathering the very last of his charitable mood, told him this, “Speak with my husband if you must, but do keep your visit short. He isn’t as forgiving of you and your “words” as I’m.”“Of course, Your Highness,” Odysseus slightly bowed to him. Only it felt as if he was mocking him. He only felt the trickle of blood invade his mouth a moment later. Bastard. Damn him to Hades and back. The arrogance he showed knew no bounds.Patroclus sighed yet again and made a move to take Alex back from Achilles. He needs Alex's sweet nature to soothe his temper. Achilles and Alex both gave him faces of displeasure at being parted.Even more Achilles’ face seemed to scrunch up further seeing their uninvited guest, Patroclus gave him an understanding look, making his quiet escape.
_____________________________________________
He enjoys the cool breeze as Alex arranged his toys into a formation that makes sense to only him. This led to a lot of upside-down ships. However, he seemed pleased with it, so he lets be him be. Instead, watching his lover lift lumber that would have taken two or three more men unto his shoulder. Sometimes he forgets just how strong Achilles was, how easy it was to forget just what he was capable of. When he cradles their child like a precious gift. Patroclus felt his cheeks grow warm when they...
The soft crunch of grass draws his attention to Briseis, walking up the hill. A basket against her hip, giving the sky a cursory glance, found it was high enough to be around noon or late afternoon.
Spotting their new visitor, Alex abandoned his toys in favor of crawling to Briseis, who placed her basket down to cuddle him.
“Hello, Alex,” she greets, brushing his soft curls, by the Gods he was quite a sweet child.
“Ma-,” he returned, and she froze a bit, sneaking a glance at Patroclus. He simply shook his head in a dismissive gesture.
Patroclus smiled a bit when she relaxed, “He has taken to calling me Ma or Mama too lately. I think he is imitating what he hears. Cute, isn't it. ”
She could only nod, but inside, her heart was racing. It was cute, but Patroclus was his mother, not her.
With her arms filled with the little prince, she gestured to the basket at her feet, “I brought you lunch.” At this, he smiled yet again.
“Thank you,” he told her, reaching for the prince who pouted and squirmed.
Patroclus dramatically sighed, snuggling his son, “My son, you’re too cruel to me. I just want to hold you while you are still small enough to do so.” Alex continued his squirming, not at all minding his mother’s distress until he was placed back down with his toys. Patroclus made various sad faces, all while Briseis tried not to snicker.
“Cheer up, he’s growing to be a fine and independent boy,” she patted his arm to console him...
Patroclus pouted, “Now you sound like Achilles’. He says I have spoiled him to the point of smothering.”
This sent her into another fit of laughter, “He said that?!” They all knew Achilles was much worse when it came to spoiling the prince.
He sighed again, “He did.”
“How cruel of him.”
“Very.”
Briseis took a moment to regain her breath, watching the way the little prince arranged his ships. Patroclus nudged her, offering her bread with cheese. Taking it, they both attend the little prince play and the turmoil below them. Finding Achilles in it all was an easy task as his bright hair shone like gold under the afternoon Sun.It chilled her beyond comparison to watch him lift those logs like they weighed nothing. To him, they weighed nothing, just as when he ripped through human beings. Like when he…“Briseis” Patroclus’ hand rested on her arm, are you alright?”She blinked, remembering where she was, “Hm, I’m sorry, just a little tired.” His eyes held hers a while longer, then made a motion for her to lay down, “Then come and rest; it’s too hot for you to be running around like this.” She let herself rest against him.The little prince had grown bored with his toys and came back to snuggle into his Patroclus’ lap. Briseis hid a smile, or he was jealous; she was so close to his mother.“Are you feeling better?” he asked.She hummed her, contentment, “I’m fine now.” She was for the moment, but tonight it would come to haunt her. The warmth of the blood soaking at her feet into her hands. Their echoing screams…. women she heard. The soldier's rough hands dragging her through the burning village. It was an overwhelming feeling.
“Could you sing for me?” Patroclus’ large brown eyes seemed to shine with questions, that he wasn’t brave enough to ask. Or unkind enough to probe.“Please.” She wasn’t above begging him, and she was nearly at the point when a soft note rang out.
It wasn’t like Aristos Achaion’s haunting notes but warmer like a mother’s lullaby. Briseis sighed at the thought, but of course, he was a mother.As he sang she felt her eyelids growing heavier and heavier until she knew no more.
_________________________________________________________
“Patroclus.” Patroclus blinked up, finding Achilles right in his face. His emerald green eyes highlighted by his even more prominent freckles. Awareness came back to him slowly, his baby.
Panic welled up in him. He called “Alex?!” Achilles stopped him by placing a finger at his lips and tilting his head downward. Briseis and Alex both were sleeping soundly in his lap.
Oh.
His heart rate calmed almost immediately, his little one was safe.No harm had come to either of them, but the Sun had gone down, leaving only a red-streaked sky.
Achilles carefully bundled their chubby babe in his arms, and Patroclus gently shook Briseis awake. She woke up dazed and confused, but when she looked at the setting Sun understood. Despite their peaceful camp, there was a war beyond here.
“I fell asleep.” the way she said it was as if she was perplexed to have even done so.
“We all did, don’t feel too bad. All of us needed the rest,” he consoled her. Briseis more so than him.
Something had been bothering her. However, she would never say what it was that was upsetting her. They were alike in that respect, never ones to tell how they truly felt. Hiding, always hiding until they couldn’t any longer.
She placed a hand at her forehead, and then sprung up, “I was supposed to help with dinner. Ah-well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now.”
“No, I suppose not,” Patroclus kindly stated, holding a hand out for her.
“Come have dinner with us, we don’t mind.” Briseis caught the subtle look he gave his lover as if daring him not to agree.
Achilles was too busy doting on his drowsy son, cooing at him, but she saw his slight nod. The matter settled. Patroclus picked up the little prince’s ships, and she was gathering her basket trailing after the couple.
Upon entering, Patroclus set about straightening, moving piles of scrolls into an empty chest, Alex's various toys were shoved into another. Other things were laying out, Achilles’ armor, sword, gauntlets.“Excuse the mess,” he shouted, trying to wrangle things into order. By the Gods, he was embarrassed, and Achilles was no help instead bouncing their now giggling son on his hip.
“It’s fine, I’ve seen worse,” Briseis said, helping him put a few things away. When that was finished, he brought in dinner.The smell of freshly cooked meat filled the tent. Warm honey rolls with platters of fruit and a jug of chilled wine.
Patroclus let his husband feed their fussy babe, who was more content taking his father’s meal and getting it everywhere.“Mama,” Alex called, reaching for him. Hands glistening with grease, with a sigh, he took the babe against him. His son only wanted to be held if he was going to be fed, but lately, his teeth were too sharp. Maybe that’s why he was cross with him recently. Weaning was a complicated process for them both. Yet, guilt ate at him like no other when he cried, his chubby cheeks even looked a little thinner. Oh, his poor babe.Patroclus slid his eyes over to Briseis; it wasn’t polite to breastfeed in others’ company. Alex peered up at him, innocently placing a hand at his tunic. He was too weak-willed, curses.
Achilles must have noticed his struggle and tempted Alex back with a piece of bread.
Dinner went smoothly despite Alex’s evident frustration at being denied milk. Their little one was put down with little fanfare leaving them.Briseis told them her people’s versions of their myths, Achilles in return told theirs. For once, it was nice to see them get along, although they would never indeed be friends. It was nice that they were civil.“Patroclus tell us your favorite myth,” they both demanded faces’ slightly flushed from the wine.
Hmm, it took him a few moments to think of one, and began to tell it, “Eros’ mother, Aphrodite…..Psyche….”
After he finished, he wondered if Aphrodite would be offended in any way, for his and Achilles’ relationship’s sake, he hoped their offerings to her would be enough.
“Why is Eros and Psyche your favorite?” Achilles asked, and he could hear the teasing in his tone.Because Achilles had once told it in such a way that made his heart bleed and made him fall even more in love with him. How I would…“Don’t tease me, I…,” he turned his head suddenly feeling flustered.“Well, do tell us, we’re so very curious about why my love.” Achilles said, refilling his cup.Briseis interjected, “Because how Psyche was willing to do anything to regain Eros’ love and trust again, the very lengths she was willing to go to for him. Patroclus would go to those very same trials for you.”“Of course, I would,” Patroclus admitted softly. Now he and Achilles both were red-faced.
Briseis laughed a little, “Come now, you two blush like so as if you two don’t already have a child.”
“That’s…” they both stopped and glanced at each other, had they?Briseis fell into even more giggles soon after they joined her.__________________________________________________
Things had tapered off as the night dragged on, and he was suitably buzzed from the wine and cuddled against his lover’s side. Achilles was still strumming his fingers across the lyre, humming softly under his breath. Briseis was struggling to keep her eyes open, and even he was struggling not to feel the pull with Achilles’ warmth and soothing song. Just as her eyes were closing, she suddenly jerked up nearly falling from the sofa.“Are you-,” she held up a hand.Her other going to rest on her forehead, no doubt she will have a headache tomorrow, “I’m fine. I think I need to sleep this off.” The couple said their goodnights to her, and she departed.
Achilles continued his mindless strumming, Patroclus was nearly asleep against him.“Play for me?” he questioned softly, his fingers curling into his tunic.“What do you want me to play?” Already he was going through his endless category of songs for his Patroclus.“Whatever comes to mind.” Humming slightly decided to compose something new just for him.His love hummed along, stopping for just a moment to compliment him, “You always come up with the most beautiful melodies, my love.”Achilles pecked his forehead, “Just for you.” And only you.“Come to bed,” Patroclus invited, stretching his long limbs, “You’ve had a long day.”He felt a slight nagging at his body, telling him just how tired he was, “Mhm, I’m.”
Patroclus checked on their little one still dreaming away in his cradle, before joining him in bed.“He’s still asleep?” Achilles asked.“He is, he’s older now and sleeps better during the night. Praise the Gods.” His lover laid against his chest, expression soft. Dark lashes flutter slowly as if matching the beat of his heart and yet he didn't seem to be any closer to sleep than he was.Amused, he just had to tease his husband, “Aren’t you sleepy?” Patroclus’ dark eyes peered up at him, the shade darker in the candlelight.“I was,” he paused, tone sultry, “then I remembered how wonderful my husband was today and how strong he was. The way he picked up those logs with little to no effort, and yet comes home so gentle. So affectionate to us.” His fingers tangle with his own, and he feels his blood thrums at the compliment.His hand gains a mind of its own pulling Patroclus practically in his lap.Pressing their foreheads together, whispered, “Were you pleased with your surprise?”Patroclus’ eyes closed for a moment before he answered, “I was, how did you even do all of that right under my nose?”Achilles gave a soft laugh, “Right under your nose, especially, you didn’t even notice when I didn’t dorn armor this morning.” It took him a moment.Oh, that’s right; one of it was of their allotted holy days. A minor river god of the Trojans if he wasn’t mistaken.His push lips formed a beautiful pout, “I was busy.”“I know, love.” Gods know they both were; it was as war never slept. There were always plans to be drawn up, troops mobilized, enemies to destroy, the injured to tend to, and the dead to bury. And the aftermath of it was taking its toll.“I was too,” he admitted quietly, letting himself leave soft kisses against Patroclus’ elegant neck.“How handsome was I?” Now Achilles was just trying to see what kind of reaction he could get out of him. Although his response right now was very favorable, it could...asPatroclus indulged him; he always had.“Very.”“Yes, but-” If Patroclus’ mouth against his and fingers digging into his shoulders was any indication of how then no further….His lover demanded, “Off, I want it off,” tugging and nipping at his neck. Off it went.
Achilles let him push him further into the bed, hiking up his tunic around his thighs.
Patroclus made a soft noise when they slid against each other.
___________________________________
Even after their passion cooled, Achilles couldn’t keep his hands off him. Patroclus must have felt the same, returning his kiss just as fervently. He could feel sweat beading at his temples yet again, but his lover’s taste was too addicting.
Breaking the kiss, he lets his teeth still nip at his neck.
Patroclus gasped quietly when he made another mark, “We should sleep.”
Green eyes lidded as if considering it, “Hmm, we should,” but ultimately decided against it.
Tracing up his thighs, relishing the soft moan he drew from him, “Ngn-,”
“But I don’t think I can sleep.” his fingers were creeping ever closer to-
“Gods-,” Patroclus moaned softly against him.
Don’t call for them, say my name only. Only-

From his red lip spilled the most beautiful hymn, “Achilles.”
Even if sleep had been reaching for him, then he would evade it further. He had a deity to worship to the fullest extent of his being.
Someone was shaking him awake, and Patroclus found that he was too comfortable to let go of Achilles’ warmth.
“Ngh,” he mumbled, settling further into his lover’s warmth, only to realize that Achilles was the one shaking him awake.
“What-,” Patroclus slurred, trying to make sense of what was going on. As far as he could tell, all was well. Alex wasn’t crying. He could smell nothing burning.
Achilles manhandled him into a sitting position, “He’s ready, and they’re waiting for you..”
“Who-,” then his brain finally clicked, “Diomedes.” Achilles nodded, and he scrambled off the bed to dress. However, he paused at tying his sandals, glancing up at him “It’s too early.”
Achilles sighed leaned down to tie them for him, “It’s time, the messenger said that his water broke.”Patroclus winced. That was no pleasant feeling and the fear that accompanied it.“Machon?” he questioned, grabbing a bag readying it with the essentials that he wished he had when Alexander had been born.Achilles confirmed what he already guessed, “We were closer.” A sense of dread bloomed in him, and this would be his first time attending a birth alone. Gods help him.“Alright, I’m going,” Patroclus said, parting the tent. Achilles’ arms wrapped around him gently.“You’ll do well. I know you will. And don’t worry, Alex is in good hands.”Patroclus smiled a bit, “Just wait until he realizes you have no milk, he’ll be incredibly displeased, this I can promise.”“I have him, just go,” Achilles nuzzled against his neck, “and come back to me.”“I will. I love you.” With that, he was gone.
Achilles peered at their son, who had thankfully slept through that entire ordeal. By the Gods, if he woke up, it would be all over for him. Not to mention how long Patroclus would be gone.Patroclus wiped at his forehead, grimacing when he felt the warmth and stickiness of blood. His hands were slicked with blood. Diomedes was no closer to having his babe then when his pains began. This would take a few more hours, and already he was tired. And by the Gods, he could only imagine how tired Diomedes was. Poor thing it was only the beginning of what he would have to endure. Just to think he had actually been contemplating having another child with Achilles.Diomedes let out another screech of pain, Patroclus withheld a shudder. Never again.
The babe was finally born as dawn broke. Despite what Patroclus said about it being an easy birth, it had been incredibly difficult as neither of them expected the baby to be twins. Labour had lasted for hours. By the end of it, they were both exhausted.
Patroclus sighed, pausing to wipe his bloody hands on a rag. This should be the easiest part.“Sit up.”Diomedes glanced up at him wearily, yet his gaze held fear, he gave him a reassuring smile."You have done well, and you just need to push once more to deliver the afterbirth. Otherwise, it'll
poison your body."Diomedes turned to the women at the side of the bed with the infants cradled in their arms."See that my sons have proper wet nurses," they bowed out to follow his order. He hadn't even held them once before sending them away, but this wasn't his place to comment. Perhaps, he was just weary of carrying them all these months."This will be quicker on your knees."
Diomedes did as he asked.Patroclus supported him from the front; from experience, he knew how weak one felt.
"Where is my son?" Menelaus burst in with all the grace and subtlety of a herd of cattle. Damn him."With their wet nurses," Patroclus answered, hands pushing against his stomach."If you could leave for a moment, Diomedes will see you when I have cleaned him up."
Menelaus faltered, "Their wet nurses?""I bore you twin boys," Diomedes explained drolly before his face scrunched up in pain.With a subtle tilt of the head gestured for Menelaus to leave this time, he did."Push."It fell into his waiting hands, slippery and red. Diomedes all but collapsed back into the bed."Ha, after all of his frigid treatment over me these past few months. He wants to see his sons before he asks about my health," he half laughed, half sobbed. The result was a very ugly noise that made his heart squeezed at it."He cared nothing for me, only for the sons I could give him."Patroclus honestly had no idea what to say. Or where to even begin."Come, let me help you get clean," he said instead. Diomedes groaned but accepted him supporting him. A quick wipe down and the sheets changed, Patroclus helped him settle back into them."Rest, your sons will be brought to you,” he said, bringing over an elixir to relieve his pain. While he drank that, Patroclus bundled up the bloody sheets with the afterbirth wrapped in them.
Opening the tent he was accosted by Menelaus, Patroclus pushed him back out into the rain.“If you are going to go in there, first ask him how he feels. Then ask whatever you wish about your sons. But do not disregard him as you just did, he has been in labor before dawn trying to birth your sons. You owe him that much.”Pushing the bloody sheets into his arms, he ordered, “And burn these.”Menelaus faced his lover, who bore him twins. His mouth felt dry, and he had no idea what he wanted to say. And the words wouldn’t come, no matter how he tried. Gods, what could he say to him? The scent of iron hung heavily over them, but heavier was his regret.“How are you feeling?” he asked at last.Diomedes rolled his eyes, that is all he had to say, “Fine, I suppose.”Menelaus ventured closer to the bed, “ Is it alright if I sit?”Diomedes just nodded, too tired to do much else.The awkwardness in the air grew too much. He had to break it, “Do you want to see them?”“I would, but first…” Their relationship had never been the easiest, but Gods, this was too much.“Do spit it out, you spineless man,” he growled, growing more and more impatient.“I can’t marry you, and for this, I apologize,” he started, “nor take you as a concubine due to your own marriage.”Diomedes resisted rolling his eyes. He already knew this. It could never happen as their reason for war would be null if Menelaus remarried.“I know this already, get to the point. I’m tired and in pain and would like to sleep.”His love- liege looked a little flustered, “But I can make our children legitimate, this I can promise you.”“No,” he was blunt and straight to the point. His sons were already princes in their own right.“Diomedes...” How dare he try to take his children after all of this.“No, they are my heirs, Menelaus. You can lay claim to the fact that you sired them, but they are to sail with me when this war ends. This is what I have long planned. You have plenty of bastard sons. I want more for them.”“Is this what you wish?”“Yes, this is what I wish.” His love-king seemed to age before his eyes at his statement.“May, I still see them?”“They’re your sons. I would never deny you that,” he sighed, “I’m not that heartless.”Menelaus pressed a kiss to his forehead, “ You have made me happier than you could ever know. Thank you, love, for the wonderful sons you have given me.”Diomedes merely sighed surely he said that to every woman who had borne him a child. As if he would fall for him that easily again. His heart was closed to him, and as were his legs. No more babes, that was it, that had been Hades. Pure and simple.__________________________________________________________________________Patroclus was chilled to his very being. All he wanted was to be back with his own child and to be out of this frigid rain and forget the complete and utter cruelty he had just witnessed.
Entering their tent, he found Achilles and Alex on the rug playing. Alex was running, and each time if it seemed as if he stumbled, Achilles’ arms were right there for him to fall into.
Stripping himself of his wet clothes, and wrapping himself in the largest blanket he could find. Joining them.
"Mama, home," he babbled. His little one was always so joyful.
Alex tottered over to him and fell into his lap, sitting him up Patroclus couldn’t help but wrap him into the blanket, kissing his soft curls. His darling baby, so sweet.
Achilles’ eyes met his curiosity burning in them. And Achilles liked to say that their men were nosey.
"How did it go? Is he alright?"
He nodded, "He's fine, only tired. Menelaus was horribly cruel to him, though." Achilles snorted, of course, such a graceless family.
Patroclus detangled a few of Alex's curls while Achilles gave him his favorite blue ball. Alex gnawed at, before passing it to him he held it for a moment until Alex whined for it back.
Patroclus narrated, "He burst in demanding to see his son, what made all this terrible was the fact that he had twins. The man couldn’t even be bothered to ask about his health only about the children. Diomedes had a bit of trouble with the last babe. Poor babe got stuck, feet first.”
Achilles internally cringed because that could have easily been his own husband and child.
“Twins?” he asked his lover, nodded.
“Twins, both with their father’s vibrant red hair.”
“Muah,” Alex gestured at Achilles, who held his arms out for him. Alex shook his head, “Muah,” he repeated, “Ach, muah.”
Patroclus laughed, “Love, he wants a kiss..”
Achilles leaned over to kiss his chubby cheek.
“Muah,” Achilles repeated, and Alex giggled. A pretty soft sound, for a moment, Patroclus was reminded of Achilles’ own laughter, as soft and sweet as a bell.
“Muah,” he said again, wobbling unsteadily into his arms. Achilles obliged him with another kiss drawing him into his arms.
Patroclus watched them. Achilles laughed as Alex tried to poke his fingers into his face. Giggling when he successfully poked his fingers into his mouth while Achilles gagged. Patroclus tried not to laugh. They were so cute.
“Naughty Alex,” Achilles gently admonished, drawing his fingers away. Alex persisted in trying again.
“Pa~,” he gurgled, kissing his cheek, and Patroclus could pinpoint the exact moment that his lover melted.
Alexander had him wrapped around his fingers. If he had thought Peleus indulgent with Achilles. His lover would spoil Alexander rotten. He already let their little one pull hair and hit people.
Oh, how he would regret doing so when he was older. Patroclus couldn’t wait.
Androcles and Damocles’ naming ceremony was a grand one befitting their mother’s kingly status. Agamemnon was nowhere to be seen, but his towering chests were proof that he was indeed here. Menelaus was here as well but was not at Diomedes’ side. Patroclus felt a flash of anger flood his senses. What a despicable man truly.
Diomedes looked exhausted but gave them a warm greeting as they presented their gifts. A chest filled with many different fabrics that would benefit as the twins grew and the other filled to the brim with golden trinkets and jewelry.
“May these children have a good life,” they uttered in near unison. Alex glanced at the swaddled babies curiously, but he gently led him away. The little ones were sleeping peacefully in their mother’s arms, and the Gods only knew how long that had taken. There would be plenty of time for them to play as they grew.
Achilles crouched to take Alex into his arms, into which his little one went. Secure and safe, Achilles drew him to his side, keeping a hand at his waist. Uncomfortably a crowd had gathered around them, men clamoring to speak with his prince about his victories or others who merely drawn in by the light his husband and son seemed to radiate.
Seeing Machon sitting at a table in the corner, he wanted to see how Diomedes’ progress was going and how to improve his knowledge of childbirth. However, when he went to move, Achilles’ grip increased, not enough to hurt just to stop him from leaving.
Through his teeth, his lover expressed his distress. “Don’t leave me alone with them, please.” Them, of course, being Agamemnon and Menelaus. Agamemnon must have hated the attention Achilles was getting, praise, and accolades that should have been his. Thank the Gods, Odysseus hadn’t shown up, but he was here somewhere. Lurking and biding his time.
“Alright, but I had wanted to speak with Machon.”Achilles’ grip loosened.
“Thank you.” Taking a deep breath prepared for their usual showdown.
“Prince Achilles and Prince Consort Patroclus,” Menelaus greeted them pleasantly; however, he saw the shadows under his eyes. So Diomedes must have appropriately chewed him out some more when he had departed. Good. The Gods know he could have done with a harsher punishment for what he had done.
Agamemnon gave them a similar greeting but tinged with thinly veiled displeasure. Patroclus examined him a little more or was that hatred. Well, no matter the feeling was returned tenfold.
“Congratulations on the healthy birth of your sons,” Achilles continued if only to remove himself from the conversation faster. Menelaus thanked him, and he turned to Patroclus.
“I did not allow myself to thank you for ensuring the safe delivery of my sons and for the health of their mother.”
Quite frankly, Patroclus hadn’t expected any thanks nor wanted any. He had only done what had needed to be done. The less he interacted with the House of Atreus, the better.
“There is no need to thank me, truly Diomedes did all the work. I have-.”
“Nonsense, I thank you for your hard work,” he gestured behind him, servants came bearing a chest. Inwardly he groaned, Achilles and he had just gotten rid of a chest now another was to take its place.
“There is no need, Your Highness, really. Please think nothing of it.” King Menelaus glanced at him and the servants.
He ordered, “Send them to Aristos Achaion’s camp.” The servants bowed.
Ah damn.
“Truly-.”
Menelaus interrupted, “I feel that there was a need, please accept my humble gesture for no amount can truly repay you, but I hope this conveys my sincerity.” Seeing as there was no alternative but to grin and accept it. Perhaps this was his way of easing his guilt at the way he had treated Diomedes. Yet nothing could cleanse him of that.
“Then, I thank you for your generosity.” Achilles shuffles as Alex begins to wiggle, wanting to be put down.
“Your prince has certainly grown since we last saw him,” Agamemnon comments, dark eyes observing their bubbly babe who was inspecting his father’s golden strands. Patroclus inclined his head once more.
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Achilles gave a slight nod as well. His pride, no doubt, peaking at showing off their son.
“If you’ll excuse us, as I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your sons.” Patroclus inclined his head once more before making their escape.
Patroclus glanced at Machon in the corner, chatting with Phiniox. He had no idea they were so well acquainted.
“Should we go now?” Achilles asked, hoisting Alex a little higher on his hip, “or did you want to stay.”
“Mm,” it only took a second, a second too long “I’m tired, and I’m sure Alex’s good mood can only last for so long before we have problems.”
Patroclus went to move away from Achilles when he was pulled back against his side.
Achilles whispered against his neck. “Walk in front of me.” Patroclus was puzzled, of course, but didn’t question it.
Although he squeaked when Achilles blatantly plastered himself behind him, leading him away from the others. They walked like that until they were nearly in their own camp.
“You're bleeding, and it is starting to show.” Achilles explained, releasing him.
Again, this was the second time that his bleeding had come without his notice.
Warm and calloused palms cupped his face, “Are you in pain?” Patroclus took a moment to assess himself. There weren't even cramps.
“No, I’m alright.” Or perhaps they would come later. It was always more painful when the weather was colder.
Achilles sighed but didn’t release his face, “Tell me when it hurts.”
“I will.” Achilles’ warmth at his back left him, and he longed to have him back.
“I hate when you hurt for any reason,” Achilles whispered.
He took a bath, while Achilles put Alex down. Frustration ate at him; why was this still happening. Alexander was a year old now; his blood should have been regulated by now. No more of this heavy then light bleeding.“Automedon, can I ask you something?” Jumping slightly, he found Patroclus with the prince at his hip behind him. Dusting his hands off, nodded. The chariot was nearly done anyway.
“What is it?” Patroclus glanced downwards, coming closer to him.
Voice tinged with worry, “Is it normal for my moon blood to be so irregular? It comes as it pleases, but it’s different.”
Automedon had to think for a moment, Amarynceus hardly ever bled before falling pregnant again.
“Different, how?” he probed. Breastfeeding lightened bleeding, but it could hardly be the accurate cause for this irregularity. Something was missing.
“Before I knew it and could prepare to lay in bed for days in agony before it subsided now, there is no warning.” He studied him, Patroclus said he had several heavy ones since the little prince was born but recently….
The only thing that could cause this...
“What do you use for your tea?”
Patroclus pondered for only a moment, “Artemisia & myrrh, or Silphium if available.”
Automedon’s eyes widened. By the….
“Patroclus, when you have Silphium, do you take it every day?”
He blinked at him, “Yes.” Zeus above was he trying to poison himself?!
Mentally he made a note to teach him more about such herbs. Patroclus was a talented healer, yes, but things of this nature were his field of expertise.
“Silphium is only meant to be taken once a month, not daily. When taken, it induces menstruation immediately. Artemisia and myrrh are much less harmful but still can have negative effects,” he explained. Of all the things he had used… by the Gods.
Patroclus now nibbled at his lip, embarrassed. “I see, thank you.”
He smiled softly, “Lessen your doses and spread them out every other day, and I think you’ll be fine now..” He hoped that what he had done previously hadn’t negatively affected his health.
Alex sighed a sleepy, “Papa,” at his mother’s shoulder, Patroclus boosted him against his hip.
“Alright, it's time to have a nap.” He soothed.
“I’ll see you later,” Patroclus said, still cooing to the little prince.
He bid them both goodbye, sighing turned back to his job of cleaning the chariot. How in Hades’ name did the prince get so much crap clogged around the spikes? Automedon only renewed his efforts because if he left it as is, it would be twice as worse tomorrow.Bloodied water and soiled bandages were circled him as far as the eye could see. Every day more and more soldiers were being brought to him to be treated. Though as far as today went, there were more that were ready to be discharged back into the battlefield.
Soldiers gave him, and Machon thanks as their fellow brothers helped to carry them out. Others were not so lucky, being carried away in covered pallets. Poldarius too breathed out a sigh of relief, for once the halls were empty of ailing men.
“I suppose now would be the best time to restock our tinctures and bandages. Perhaps even-,” Poldarius gestured to the bloodied mess around them, “to clean up.” Along with the other healers, they set about dumping bloody water, burning unsalvageable sheets, and old bandages. The clasps of the tent were opened to allow for fresh air and sunlight. Patroclus set off to gather his little one before going off to collect herbs. As it might be the last of good weather for a while.
______________________________
Briesies tagged along as he examined the plants surrounding the area. Alex kept close to him, curious at what he was doing.
“Look, Alex, this one helps with fever and inflammation,” he held out a long and straggly green plant for him. Alex touched it before drawing back as if it would bite him.
Patroclus laughed, ruffling his hair, assuring him, “It’s alright, my love, it won’t hurt you. I won’t let it.”
Alex tottered over to another patch of plants, pointing to one, “That?”
Patroclus knelt next to him, “Hmm, let me think,” examining the pointed leaves, “oh.” Jerking Alex’s hand away.
“That one is poisonous, Alex. Don’t touch it.”
“No touch.” Alex parroted back.
“That’s right, no touch.” Alex nodded, and they continued on their journey.
Patroclus slung Alex on his hip when he found that he was falling behind. He and Briseis exchanged Alex for the baskets. Kissing his babe softly, they parted. Briseis carrying Alex and one of the other baskets. Enough for whatever he would need for the camp to see through the winter.
_________________________________
Automedon informed him that Achilles would be late, there was a meeting that was called. That in itself was never a positive thing.
“Does he wish for me to attend?” Patroclus asked absentmindedly, checking over his work. Hmm, he had forgotten to add a number here. Marking it turned to face him.
“He didn’t say.” Humming slightly placed his quill down and mulled over the merits of going. On the one hand, Achilles’ temper couldn’t rise to extremes; on the other, he had to deal with much of the same bullshit as always.
War was an ugly thing; it could make even the most gentle into the fiercest savage. As much as loathed to admit, even his hands were stained, with the blood of those whom he slaughtered or others who he failed to save. Blood had become currency for one to base themselves on how great they had become. He withheld a sigh. Blowing on his still wet scroll, he laid it out to dry and went to tidy himself up.
Seeing that Alex was still asleep, he turned to face Automedon, who was gathering up the finished ones.
Before he could even part his lips, the younger nodded slightly.
“Alright then I’m off.”
_________________________________________________________
He was only half paying attention to what was being said, shifting so that he would not fall asleep. There was no Diomedes to amuse him as he was busy with squealing newborns. Not even his beautiful Patroclus was present, no doubt looking after their own babe. That’s why he jumped when warm fingers prodded at his arm, glancing over Patroclus’ ever set smile was waiting for him. Achilles moved over slightly so that his lover could sit; he would have welcomed him into his lap had his armor not been bloody.
Patroclus’ warm breath tickled his ear, “What did I miss?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing.”
A soft snort met his words. Patroclus was no doubt rolling his eyes; he could practically hear it from here.
“I expected as much,” he grumbled, “I left my sweet baby for this…” The last part was no doubt for himself, but he heard it all the same. Frustration, an emotion much of the room was feeling.
“Sorry,” Achilles whispered, all but nuzzling into him.
“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Patroclus said, “I chose this; remember.”
The temptation to pull him even closer was growing as the voice rose around them, Achilles could just feel the headache building behind his eyes.
Rosemary and sage curled around his nose as Patroclus made himself comfortable in his lap, drawing his arms around his middle.
Paying no mind to the blood and gore coating him, sitting as if this was his place. Not that he would ever dare deny him. Taking all that his lover was willing to give, let himself relax. The voices of discontent faded into the background.
His amused voice pulled him back from the brink of sleep, “Just because I’m here doesn’t mean you can sleep.”
“Hmm, I know.” he slurred against his neck, “you just relax me. I’m stressed.” Warm fingers rubbed at his pulse.
“I know, love.”
“But stay awake, this meeting may be important-.” No sooner had the words passed his lips did the room fall silent at a shout.
“THERE WILL BE ORDER,” Agamenon at the helm of the shout, chest heaving, and face red.
“There will be order, or so help me, “ Achilles mocked against Patroclus’ neck. His lover stifled a laugh as a cough.
“I have taken into consideration the effects of last winter and its harshness. It was decided that it would be best if we began to build more permanent shelter.” Agamemnon surveyed the room to find a hint of disapproval.
Patroclus snorted quietly. His power was so fragile that he was constantly on guard as if afraid of being overthrown or murdered in his sleep. The only reason he even held it was because they had grown comfortable with him as a figurehead puppet with Odysseus pulling strings, that and no one else wanted the burden. Not even Odysseus. This council was a mockery; it played at being fair; however, it hid the ongoing power struggles. If he was even half as ambitious as Odysseus, surely he could have easily swayed Achilles into action.
However, Achilles’ heart was not to be used as collateral no matter who or what called for it. That would be the ultimate breach of trust between them. A betrayal from which there would be no return. After all, there were only so many pieces of his lover’s heart he could gather back up and bury safely in his chest, a feat he struggled with daily. Achilles was his to protect and love. Odysseus could take his musings and opinions and go to the Underworld and stay there for all he cared.
Achilles huffed against his nape, “I’m bored.” His warmth soothing against his back.
Patroclus hummed, “I know,” resuming rubbing against his wrist.
Achilles continued, under his thumb, his pulse was racing. “He has some nerve taking your idea as if he thought of it. There is no doubt in my mind that Odysseus whispered into his ear what he saw.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Patroclus soothed, “if my idea prevents people from becoming ill, then, by all means, allow him to take the credit..” letting his fingers draw against his wrist.
“You’re too kind,” Achilles mumbled against him, “too good.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The years were crawling by, and there seemed to be no end in sight for this war. To his selfish glee, this meant more time with his lover and child. Regardless of the lives that were wasted.

If it gained him more moments. More chances to see Alex tottering around and watching him learn to speak.
 
Of Patroclus’ sleepy ‘I love yous’. Of his soft kisses, and warm hands. More of life.
 
A war raged outside this place of warmth and love. A war that would end his mortal life in exchange for a chance for immortality. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that when he became a God. Patroclus was to be made one beside him.
 
His lover shifted away from in his sleep, kissing his shoulder. Achilles vowed it with every part of his being.

“It was all for him. For them.”

Alexander had grown into a precocious five-year-old who loved to tell him of all the things he had discovered. Or rather liked to ask for his attention like now.

“Papa, papa,” Patroclus glanced down briefly to see what was the matter. Alex blinked up at him while still pulling on his tunic.

Nothing, Alex just wanted his attention. Attention, he couldn’t give at the moment.

“A moment, my love. I’ll see to you in a minute.”

“Papa!” he screamed. Patience, he needs patience because Gods. Alex was a lot like Achilles in that regard, ever spoiled for his affection or attention. His boys.

“Yes, my love,” he asked again, deciding to give him his full attention. It would save him from a full-blown tantrum.

In an innocent way only children could, Alex peered up at him and stated clear as day, “Papa, you’re bleeding.” Huh.

Subtly he glanced down to see that a thin trail had gone down his leg. Ah, fuck.

When how? Damn it.

Refraining from sighing, finished up with his patient, and picking up a now crying Alexander.

“Don’t die, mama.”

“I’m not dying my love, don’t cry. It’s alright I promise,” Patroclus soothed.

For Hera’s sake, how he hadn’t he noticed. Sigh, he needed a bath. They both did.

______________________________________________________________

When Achilles entered their hut saw Alexander lining up his toys. Wooden ships and animals his husband had carved for him. Cheeks rosy and damp curls framing his face, as if he had just had a bath.

“Father,” he called, launching himself into his arms. He kissed his forehead and listened to his chatter.

“Eurskayes and I caught a frog, then it jumped on his head…. I dared him to eat it. Alex told him, “Did I tell you I caught a frog?....”

Achilles ahed and oohed at what he felt was appropriate because, honestly, he had no idea where the story had begun or ended. Alex had a tendency to backtrack and restart when he thought best.

“Then Papa and I went to the white tent then papa started bleeding, so we had to leave.” Achilles tilted his head. Okay, that part had been clear.

“Wait, my love, he was bleeding?” Had he been injured by something?

Alex nodded and continued, “It trailed down his leg, and I tried to tell him....” Oh, fuck, his bleeding must have come. His poor love must have been feeling humiliated for that to have all witnessed it.

“Achilles,” Patroclus called from behind him, making him jump ever so slightly.

“Are you alright?” Achilles asked.

Patroclus just wrinkled in his nose in confusion, “I’m fine, Achilles.”

He set down the platters for dinner, “Come eat, love,” he said, taking Alexander from him. He stood there for a moment.

Patroclus glanced back at him, “Achilles, come eat.”

Obediently he followed him.

“Father, you have to wash your hands first, you know better,” Alex shouted at him from the bowl, a mini scowl on his face.

“I’m coming, Alex,” Achilles chuckled. Just like Patroclus always scolding him into doing something.

“Hurry up, I’m hungry.” Bossy, he had definitely got that from Patroclus.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“You’re bleeding,” Achilles kept his voice low in fear of waking Alex between them.

“Mhm, I’m,” Patroclus said drowsily.

“Are you hurting in any way?” He had to ask because he remembered how painful it could be and that Patroclus often put on a brave front when truly he was in agony.

“I’m fine, promise,” his lover assured again, “It snuck up on me.”

Achilles reached out to push a curl from his face, “You can tell me if it hurts, I’ll make your potion if you need it.”

Patroclus hummed in the darkness, but he heard a hint of a smile, “You’re wonderful, my love. I just need to rest, that's all. They aren’t bad this time.”

He had finally perfected just the right dosage for tea which meant his wonderful cramps had come back with their vengeance. There were however days like this when it came as it pleased but this was more manageable compared to five years ago.

He sighed, “Alright just promise me that if it hurts you’ll let me know I won’t let you struggle through it alone.” Never again would he let Patroclus feel as if he had to hide things from him.

“To be honest I was more embarrassed that I bled everywhere than from pain,” Patroclus said, raking a hand through Alex’s curls. Their baby sighed snuggling closer into his warmth.

“You have nothing to be ashamed about, it is a natural process.”

Patroclus said nothing for a moment continuing to brush at their son’s hair, “But I was because I frightened him, Achilles. He was so scared that I was hurt that he cried. I didn't mean to make him like so he- is too young to understand.”

“I fear the day that he’ll somehow become like me…”

Fear that people will shun him and hurt him because of something he couldn’t control.

Achilles exhaled softly, “There is nothing wrong with him becoming more like you., I pray he takes after you, your temperament is very pleasant.”

“You know what I truly meant. I fear the day-,” Patroclus stopped brushing their baby’s curls.

“It makes no difference to me if he does... Alexander is my son and I will let no harm come to him. I’ll kill the first man who even dares to think to shame him in

any way,

” he vowed. For his son, Achilles would start a war.

Patroclus hummed thoughtfully, “What of those who wish for his hand.”

Achilles considered it, “Then they will have to prove themselves worthy, Alexander deserves nothing less than someone who will love him just as true our relationships-no they will have to surpass even us.”

What an unlucky challenge, his poor son.

“If they fail,” Patroclus gently probed.

“ I’ll execute them for breaking my son’s heart.”

Patroclus laughed quietly then, “Oh my love, you’ll break our son’s heart if you execute his lover.”

Achilles cared only for their son’s happiness. “As long as they aren’t a spineless coward and can face me to ask for permission to court him then I’ll agree to it.”

He soothed, “Achilles, love he’s five, there will be plenty of time to plot imaginary ways of intimidating his lover.”

“So you said,” he muttered darkly, “He has grown so quickly, just yesterday he was chubby babe swaddled in my arms, today he….” They both share a sigh, their baby was growing up and there was little they could do but watch and worry.

“I feel the same, but it’s much worse for me for me, I once cradled him in my belly and here he is…” Alex rolled further into Achilles’ warmth, “so precious. He walks as if he is ready to conquer the world. I’m not ready for it even if I know that all parents must face the same.”

“Then conquer the world he shall.” Achilles vowed kissing his son’s forehead.

_______________________________________________________________________________

“Mama, Mama.” He hummed a little at his son. He was always doing a million other things besides giving Alexander his full attention.

“Yes, love. What is it?

“Where does father go all day? I miss him.” Patroclus stopped his work this time.

Alex’s soft round face peered up at him so innocently, that he found himself at a loss for words. Gods what could he say. “

Your father is in battle. He can’t play at the moment”

Perhaps.

No. Achilles had made it clear that Alex wasn’t to understand war. No training, but what was happening was the less understood the more he wanted to know.

“He’ll be home at sunset, Alex.” Is all he can muster. His son wasn't satisfied with such an answer.

“Mama- I want to play with him. I miss him. I want Papa,” their little one had begun to cry.

“Hush, my darling it’s alright. Father will play with you when he comes home.”

“I want him now!!” Patroclus sighed to himself, hating that his baby was upset.

“Alex, do you want to play with me instead? I’ll make us a fun little game,” he tried to at least soothe his little one.

Alex sniffled pulling away from him, “No, I don’t want to play with you. I want Papa. Papa PAPA!!!!!,” he screamed, throwing himself to the floor banging his tiny fists on the rug. Patroclus wanted to be patient as Alexander’s tantrums tended to be short, but couldn’t bear his sweet little face reddening and how his cries sounded as if he was wounded. Hearing enough of those in the white tent. He wouldn’t hear them from his baby.

“My love, don't be so upset, your father will be home soon. I swear it," he soothed taking him into his arms.

“Hush, now I’m here and your father will be home. I promise it.”

Alex burrowed deeper into his chest, his sobs and sniffles could still be heard but they were growing softer.

After a few moments of rocking and humming to him, Alex’s tantrum seemed to have calmed.

Alex looked up, his expression soft and sad, “Mama, don’t leave me too.”

“I promise I won’t my dearest,” Patroclus swore, squeezing his baby softly. Nothing short of Hades would stop him from leaving his little one’s side.

“Really?” Alex’s soft green eyes met his.

Patroclus swore it, “Yes, I promise. I will never leave you, I love you so much, my Alexander. You hold my heart and will hold it forevermore.”

His baby’s smile was the sweetest thing even as his face was red and his eyes damp. He would do anything to keep it there.

“I'm sorry mama.” Alex sniffled his eyes still red from his tantrum, “I love you.”

“ I love you so much and I forgive you. I can never stay mad at, my Alex,”

“ Now would you like to hear a story?” he asked to draw from the situation at hand. A distraction if you will.

Alex nodded against him, cheeks still ruddy, and nose snotty. Patroclus wiped at his face gently.
 
Achilles surely couldn’t keep Alex in the dark as he grew, neither of them could. Alexander would only come to resent them when the truth came out. When the Gods promised him much of the same things as his father.
 
For now, he would hold his son in arms for as long as he was allowed.

Patroclus began his tale, “Once there was a boy who wished to fly to the Sun to….”

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Alex had taken a nap after his tantrum, his mood cheerful once more. Glanced out the opening of the window saw the bright sunshine and warm breezes and yet here he was struck. Patroclus wanted to groan, all of this paperwork, more specifically Achilles’ paperwork.  Getting Achilles to do it reminding him of their younger days when Achilles would rather sneak out than do arithmetic. Now if he didn’t want to do it, pouted and tried buttering him up. Read seducing him,

“You're so much better at it than I’m

.” Achilles said, pressing kisses to his neck, “

Besides I always reward you well enough

.”
 
Rewards, his ass.
 
As if he didn’t have enough to do during the day, raising their child, healing the injured and sick, organizing supplies and traders, training troops, and ensuring there was in order in the camp. By the Gods, he could kill him, leaving him with all this work. However, Patroclus knew if he left it for him. It would be weeks-months before the piles were whittled down, instead of growing into a tower. Taking a deep breath looked down at the paper, and in that single moment, he decided. He could do no more. It was too beautiful a day to be wasting it, surely….
 
“Alex, my love would you like to come to market with me?” Papa asked him. Alex placed his toys down and nodded eagerly while his mother laughed.
 
Oh, he liked going to the market. There was so much to see, new people, and it meant that he would get candies and new toys. Papa always brought him treats and trinkets from the traders that passed through, it was a shame father wasn’t home today. He would have gotten twice the treats. 
 
“Give me just a moment to get ready and we’ll go.” He had a list of items to get anyway, might as well enjoy his afternoon.

_____________________________________________________________________

Alex clutched tightly at his hand, head-turning every few movements to take in the sight of the market. Patroclus smiled and continued to lead him around the market, taking note of the new changes that had occurred. 
 
Along with the walls and huts that had been built, a small marketplace had sprung up near the coast. Agamemnon had begun most of these projects due to the discontent brewing in the ranks. Men had become tired of the day in and day out battle where nothing but land was being gained.

The situation had finally reached its peak, the summer Alex turned four. It had started innocuously at first, one of Ajax’s men had expressed his disdain for the war’s length. Originally he had been written off due to being a known scoundrel.

“Four years, I have been here and four years I still have nothing to show for. Where is the woman we have fought for still locked as tight as could be in Troy’s walls.” Ajax had neatly whacked him on the head. And that was largely the end of it except that it wasn’t. It spread from Ajax’s camp until even their camp hadn’t been immune. The weather had been particularly wet, miserable for fighting and harvesting. Injuries and illnesses ran about at rapid rates. In those days the medical tent had been swarmed by soldiers and their families alike. Then a plague of biting flies had come when the weather turned hot, turning things when more chaotic.

Men began loitering in the agora of the main camp, gathering and whispering their displeasure. It had started small as all riots do, then it was ten to twenty men. Forty to fifty then after that he lost count.

Troy will never submit to us

Where is the treasure promised to us?

We should just quit while we are still young

My parents are old and ill, I should be looking after them in these years.

I’m wasting my youth

My wife had been pregnant when I departed, I promised her I would be back. Now my son will be four this year.

Mine too

My concubine is pregnant and has told me that she can no longer bear these conditions.

My child is sick

….

When Agamemnon heard, he had them all whipped. In the days following there were twice as many, a few of his men too. Then he sent armed forces to disperse them, the men left. However, when the forces left, the men returned. It was like a game of chicken, neither side appeared to be ready to yield. For every measure he proceeded to try, it was met with equal resistance. Needless to say, both sides were at a standstill.

Until on the day of battle, seven hundred men threw down their armor and swords. Refusing to fight any longer. Some stated illness and then more and more began claiming illness. Others didn’t bother with the pretext at all. They blocked the agora, Agamemnon had such a red face at the humiliation of not being able to reach the agora. Patroclus at the time had found it almost amusing had it not been for.

How Agamemnon had reacted when a man spat at his feet. Using the wooden specter with an iron band at the top, struck the man. The man fell to the ground, from that one blow his skull had been caved in. Blood pooling where he lay. They were all horrified, Agamemnon more so because the soft “sling” of swords and knives filled the air. Achilles had placed a hand at his back, murmuring that he would be back. Patroclus stared at the man being taken to the medical tent no doubt, however, it-

Agamemnon tensed as if realizing his fatal mistake, he had no guards and surely he would be dead. If they swarmed around him, it would be a most pitiful ending for him. Once he would have felt sorry for him, perhaps he felt a little sorry for him being torn asunder by your own soldiers. Had he not just killed a man for petty reasons.

“Men of Greece.” Patroclus and most of the other men turned to see Achilles standing on top of a pile of shields on the dais. Dressed simply in his armor, yet his aura made it as if he was dressed in the finest of garments. He did not have to brag or threaten others to obey him, they did so because they wanted to. For Zeus’ sake, the Myrmidons were so loyal that to their prince, they would go anywhere he asked, do anything he asked.

He addressed them, “You’re angry.” This took the attention away from Agamemnon and from their faces, this was the first time someone had addressed their concerns in such a direct way.

“Speak your grievance,” he said. Patroclus glanced at Agamemnon who was gritting his teeth and snorted. Achilles had saved him once again, yet all he could think about was the fact that he had upstaged him.

“We want to leave!” a voice called from the crowd.

“The war is hopeless,” another cried out.

“The general lied to us.” Inwardly he agreed, imagining what Odysseus had promised them.

More agreement came from the crowd.

“It has been four years!” This voice was the angriest of them all. He was right, four years wasted. To Achilles and he, these four years had been spent enjoying the fact that they stole time from The Fates. Time spent watching their son grow. Yet for these men, it was time stolen from their families, from wives and children, from home.

Four years without hearing words from father, brother, son,  husband, or lover. His fate would have been the same had he chosen not to come. Waiting every day for a word of his lover and raising their child alone. Before he could fully ponder such thoughts, Achilles spoke again.

“It is your right to question such things,” he said, eyes roaming the crowd until they were centered on the figurehead, “After all you were led to believe that victory would be swift.”

A resounding hum of agreement rose from the crowd.

“Tell me,” Achilles said, “does

Aristos Achaion

fight in hopeless wars?”

The men were silent.

Achilles prodded them again, “Well?”

“No!” a man said from the back then more and more men choursed with him.

Achilles nodded, gravelly, so handsome. “No I don’t nor do I expect to lose one. I swear this before you all, I will not leave until we do because I believe in our cause. Troy will be ours.” Green eyes found his and he nodded softly at him.

“That is fine for you,” a man scoffed in the crowd, “ but what of those who wish to go.”

Agamemnon gritted his teeth as the question. No doubt what would have come out of his mouth.

No one leaves. Death to deserters.

Luckily for him, Achilles was not one to resort to such drastic measures when things were at such a point.

“Then you are welcome to leave whenever you like. No one will stop you.”

“We are?” A man voiced but he truly spoke for the whole crowd.

“You are,” Achilles soothed, giving the crowd his most guileless and friendly smile, “however you must leave your portion of treasure to me when we take Troy.”

Tension that had earlier permeated the air had eased. Patroclus found himself laughing along with the men. If Prince Achilles found it easy to talk about treasure then there was hope for this war. Greed always had a way of portraying hope.

Achilles saw the change in them and continued, “It is past time to take to the field. The Trojans will begin to take us for cowards should we fall to meet them head-on. Drawing his sword, Achilles held it up for all to see.

“And I’m no coward. Are you?”

The resounding roar of “NO!” shook the ground. There was a scramble as men rushed to reclaim their armor and weapons. Achilles gracefully jumped from the pile and navigated the crowd until he reached his side. Frenzied green eyes meet his, his electric energy rubbing off on him.

Hands grasping at his waist, as their bodies slotted into place. Teeth nipping at his bottom lips asking for permission, which he would always give. Though he had been a tad bold kissing him so openly, oh well.

“Mm,” Patroclus broke away so that he could breathe, “you were magnificent up there. A true leader.”

“I was, wasn’t I.” Achilles asked, leaning in to kiss him once more. Face flushed from his praise.

“Your Highness,” one of their men called so reluctantly they parted.

“Come with me.” Patroclus blinked back a tad confused, join him in battle? Hadn’t he...

When he saw him hesitant backed off.

“I’ll be back soon until then I love you.” Kissing him deeply once more before joining the fray.

Maybe it had been something he had said in the heat of the moment, yet he still wondered about it.

To think such a lovely market had come about be due to violence. Patroclus shook his head at the memory, easily leading Alex away from another stall of candies. Gods knew he didn’t need any more sweets. 
 
He had a list of items to get and perhaps… glancing over at the horizon, he squinted. Was that another trader ship was coming to sell their wares or was it from home? Ships came and went through the warmer season so it was harder to keep track of them all. Either way he would be alerted later or perhaps squinting again the colors were familiar. Very familiar. He stood there a moment watching as it grew closer to the docks.
 
Pthtia’s bright banners flapped proudly in the wind, Patroclus hoped there was a letter from the king. After all, he had been quite amused at his grandchild’s antics and often told of his son’s misadventures in childhood. That bit about Achilles being a chubby babe had been confirmed by the king himself. Letters asking after their wellbeing but more than anything he was always pleading for Patroclus and Alexander to come home to him.

...I’m growing to be an old man and all I long for is to see my son-in-law and grandson to be safe and well looked after...

Such letters always broke his heart because they had been from home for so long. Alexander was five now and he had never met his grandfather and he was right. Peleus had aged since they sailed away and at his age, his health was not at his best. Yet there was so much at stake.
 
Achilles too was always quiet when letters and items arrived from home. Alex pulled at his hand pointing to another stall filled with skewed meat, alright then. He supposed he could grant him this, besides the meat smelled too wonderful for his grumbling stomach to ignore. Together they continued to wander the market, checking off things on his list. New dishes and cutlery, check. More ink, check. Papyrus scrolls, check. Lyre strings, check. A basket to carry it all in, check. Candy he had brought, sigh, check. Take Achilles’ dagger to the blacksmith, hmm in progress. Let’s see, sheets, more cloth for clothing, hm… 
 
By the Gods, he was glad that most of the merchants had what he needed as they were a Godsend in the first few years of the war. Of course, there had hardly been a variety as they did now, yet when you are using a chipped and broken bowl like a cup you learn to become appreciative. 
 
Alex tugged on his hand again, he wondered what it could be this time.  Balancing his basket on his hip crouched down to experience what his son saw. 
 
Oh, poor little thing. It appeared to be a puppy, but it was emaciated and dirty to the point that he could be wrong. Alex took a piece of meat and held it out to it. It shuffled over to them cautiously.
 
“Here you go, it’s okay,” his son said, lightly petting it, Patroclus worried that it would bite him. However, the little puppy nuzzled into his hand. Oh how cute.
 
Alexander turned to him with his big green eyes after giving the dog another piece of meat, “Mama can we take him home, I promise to look after him.” Patroclus bit his lip.
 
To be honest, he was quite taken with it too, such a small thing couldn’t possibly survive on its own. It would be cruel to leave it to starve. His decision had already been made by the creature's soft brown eyes. 
 
“Alright but you have to take care of him okay?” Patroclus said, hefting his basket back up, “and do your lessons,” he added as an afterthought.

Alex cooed to the dog, coaxing it to come into his arms. It trudged over and with a soft lick was in Alex’s arms, “Careful with him okay?”
 
Alex nodded, “Mmh, I won’t drop him.” Actually, Patroclus wasn’t sure if it was a girl or boy, well they would find out when they bathed it.
 
Oh wait, he had almost forgotten. Achilles’ dagger.
 
“Alex, we have to make one more stop before we go home. Can you and your new friend wait just a little while? Okay?”
 
“Okay,” Alex said, all of his attention absorbed on his new little friend. Quickly they popped into the blacksmith and with a freshly repaired dagger in hand journeyed home. Glancing back at the docks, found that the ship bearing Pthtia’s colors had gone. _________________________________________________________________________

Water splashed them both as they tried to bathe their new addition to the family. Once she had been cleaned, they found that her coat was golden.
 
“Flower, she looks like a golden flower.” Poor thing, she would need a lot of love to grow like one.
 
“Hm, she is golden like a flower. Is that what you want to call her?” Alex’s nose wrinkled as if considering the idea. Patroclus waited a moment before Alex beamed at him, his curls bouncing as he nodded.
 
“Yes.”

Chrysanthe would be her name then. After feeding her, Alex settled next to him for his lesson. Today they were just practicing letters.
 
“You’re never this eager for your lessons, you hate the thought of them,” Patroclus teased while his son huffed at him.
 
“I have to so I can keep Chrysanthe and I don’t hate my lesson. I hate how long they are.” Oh such a pouty babe, he almost wanted to squeeze his cheeks. 
 
“Alright I’ll try to make your lessons shorter,” he promised. Maybe he did give Alex too much to do, but he just wanted the best for him, to know more than just a battlefield and weapons.
 
Emerald eyes light up, “Really mama.” Oh, he was too cute,  Alexander wouldn’t get mad if he pinched his cheek just a bit, right?
 
“So let’s start so you can go and look after Chrysanthe after all she is your responsibility.”
 
The rest of the afternoon was passed with Alex finishing his letters. Tomorrow numbers.
 
“And we’re done for the day,” he announced, checking over his writing, finding it in order released him. 
 
Alex wasted no time zipping from his seat, Chrysanthe perked up seeing her owner. 
 
“Come on Chrysanthe let’s go play,” Alex called her.  Patroclus reminded him to be careful with her, and then he was alone. So he decided to put away their purchases from the market. Dishes and cutlery were placed on the table. Lyre strings in the chest with it. Ink and papyrus were placed next to the ever-growing pile of scrolls. Ugh, his head hurt just to think about it. 
 
Holding bolts of new fabrics debated starting on new tunics or waiting until he could properly measure both his husband and son. Well, nevermind it he could start on sheets. The old ones could be torn and made into bandages and other things. 
 
All that was left in hand was Achilles’ dagger, there was no sign that it had ever been broken in two. Multiple pieces. Turning it over wondered just how he could have broken it like so, he knew of Achilles’ strength yet this still didn’t explain why. What had caused him to use such force? And why was such force needed, surely few could match him in strength? Nevermind it, Achilles had asked him to take it to the blacksmith when he had a chance.

“It’s my favorite, I can’t be parted from it.” Achilles said pressing it into his hands, wrapped in cloth. This was the same dagger that had cut Alex’s cord, yet…

Patroclus placed the dagger on the table, there was no point in pondering such things. Sometimes it was better not to know than to know and be horrified. He only hoped that the force had been necessary.

__________________________________________

“New dishes,” Achilles asked almost amused, holding up one of their new cups. 
 
“Do you like them?” he asked, not really caring if he liked them or not. They had needed new ones, he refused to have them with leaking cups and cracked plates again like their first year here. 
 
“Uh, they’re lovely,” Achilles said and they were just a little plain. His love deserved pretty things, gold would be lovely, he would have some made in solid gold. Hearing the sarcasm just leaking from his tone.
 
 Patroclus rolled his eyes, they were crack-free and leak-proof of course they were lovely.
 
“I thought so too,” he hummed slightly, checking over the items Phiniox had brought from the ship. When he was finished turned to help Achilles tackle the mound of scrolls. 
 
“Did you and Alex have fun at the market?”

It had been a nice afternoon spent with just the two of them.
 
“We did in fact we found several things to amuse us.” Achilles seemed pleased at his answer enough to wrap drawing him flush against him. By the Gods Achilles was like a furnace. 
 
“Buy whatever you want, I have enough gold,” he breathed, “You never have to ask if something catches your eye. I want you to have the best of everything.” 
 
“I did,” reaching behind him presented him his dagger, “and I had this fixed.” Achilles drew back just a moment, to examine it, pulling it from the sheath, finding it as perfect as the day he had gotten it.
 
“Perfect,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Patroclus’ forehead, “thank you.” 
 
“You’re welcome.” Achilles leaned in to kiss him more deeply when Alex flew in like a whirlwind. 
 
A skinny dog right at his heels. 
 
“Father, you’re home,” Alex shouted hugging his leg, cheeks ruddy from playing. He lifted him with ease. 
 
“I missed you,” Alex told him, cuddling against his neck. Patroclus lifted the little dog.
 
“And this is-.”
 
“Chrysanthe,” Alex interrupted, “isn’t she cute, father?” 
 
“Very,” he answered somewhat bewildered. And she would be when she got some meat on her bones, Alex cuddled back into his neck and began telling him about his day. The market, the food at the market, the ships….
 
Behind his back Achilles raised an eyebrow and mouthed to Patroclus, “

A dog

?” His dark eyes only laughed at him.
 
Before he mouthed back,

“I told you we found something to amuse us at the mark

et.” Cuddling the dog, who licked him. 
 
Oh, it was cute, the way it set its’ brown eyes on him and he decided it could stay. His son and lover already loved the little beast and what was the harm?

____________________________________________

So that night, they tucked Alex in with his little friend. Alex reached out to tug at Achilles’ tunic.

He was drowsy but his eyes were still open, “Father, where do you go all day? Mama and I miss you.” 
 
“I’m sorry that it seems as if I leave you every day, but I come back don’t I?” Achilles soothed. Of course, he had expected Alex to wonder where he went as he grew older, but he felt as if he was too young. 
 
“Yes,” his son pouted at him, “but I still miss you. I made mama cry because I wanted to play with you.” Achilles cringed into himself, Alex had been having thrown tantrums lately. He didn’t know if it was because he and Patroclus were always busy or if he was simply at that age. 
 
Poor Patroclus. 
 
Fumbling around for an answer, he cast a helpless glance at Patroclus who lingered in the doorway. His love only shook his head and sighed before coming beside him.
 
“Yes, but you have a new friend to play with now, don’t you?” Thank the Gods, Patroclus always had the perfect thing to say. 
 
He said sadly, “But I miss you, I get lonely because you never play with me.” Aw, their sweet little one. 
 
“Then we promise to make more time for our lovely Alex,” Patroclus promised, kissing his head.
 
“Promise?” he asked, shuffling to hold out his pinky. 
 
“Promise,” they said in unison, joining theirs with his. 
 
Their son bit his lip looking down for a moment, they waited patiently for whatever else he wanted to say.
 
“Can I sleep in your room?” Achilles was already gathering him up in arm, while Patroclus cradled Chrysanthe.
 
“Always, you never have to ask us.”
 
Settling in their room, Alex snuggled between his parents, mumbled his goodnight.
 
“I love you papa, mama.” 
 
“We love you too,” they echoed cradled around their precious child and his furry friend.

If Patroclus had thought Alexander’s tantrum the other day had been terrible, Achilles’ mood today was even blacker.
 
The third squadron’s commander had been killed and without proper procedures, Agamemnon was content to steam along. Neglecting to realize that the third squad covered his and his brother’s cowardly behinds. 
 
Achilles was livid that his men had died for Agamemnon’s selfishness but there was little he could do without outright challenging him. Patroclus would undoubtedly be crossed with him if he called upon his God blood to subdue him again. Yet seeing the fear in his eyes stroked his ego in every way. The fear of knowing that at any time he could snap him like a twig drain his blood and eat his flesh. It was thrilling, yet no he would not let it get to that point.

Calm down, breathe, as angry as you are calm down.

He was home in Patroclus’ warm arms, there was no reason to be angry yet he was. 
 
“I wish you could come with me and see all the idiocy that Agamenon is content to call a war. 
 
Patroclus softly bit at his lip, daring to propose what they both considered taboo “What if I rejoin you on the battlefield, leading the third squadron?”
 
Achilles looked at him in abject horror, “I could never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
 
Grabbing his lover’s hands, assured him, “It will only be for a day.”
 
Achilles jerked away from him, “It will not just be a day, this I can promise you. Once you come to my side, you will never want to leave. I will have to drag you from the battlefield just as I did before. You are the most stubborn-.” Patroclus watched him, dark eyes glimmering with hidden mirth.
 
“As if you are any better my love?” he retorted plainly.
 
“Achilles it’s only to lead one part of our forces, Phiniox can not be two places at once. You need me to watch the third quadrant. Achilles cut him off.
 
“We’ll manage as we always have.” Patroclus once again placed his hand over his.
 
“Don’t be rash, Achilles you know that this will cost lives. Besides, I'm ready. I have been for months-no years now.” No matter what, Patroclus wasn't going anywhere near the field.
 
“What about our son, how will you explain to him where you go with me every day?”  Their son had already expressed how much he missed them, how lonely he was. Yet would he leave their child alone? Would he even dare to take Patroclus from their son as much as he wanted him at his side? Achilles couldn’t.
 
He fell silent at that. 
 
Achilles watched him expectantly, how would he seek to twist his way out of this one.
 
Patroclus spoke again, “He does not seem to mind when I go to the medical tent.”
 
Achilles snorted then, “He never minds because he is usually at your hip, observing. A battle is a place he can’t go. Never can he go.” Never not his sweet Alexander.
 
Achilles rested his forehead against his, “I will not send you into the thick of it. I will not have you get hurt or die to protect Agamemnon.”
 
“Achilles what if I want to go purely because I want to go. I-,” no Gods why was this so hard, how would he even begin to explain, he needed to be there. To stop the prophecy so that their son would have his father as he grew.
 
“Don’t lie, you’re going because you want to protect me,” his lover said amused, “Not that I don’t appreciate the thought. The thought of you being hurt because Agamemnon would drive me crazy like no other.” 
 
“What if I want to go?” He had his reasons for going, good reasons. More than anything he felt as if he had something to prove to his lover. To himself, but truly he wasn’t sure where such a thought had even come from. How he wished to say it had grown quietly over the years instead of the opposite. It had only gotten louder... 
 
Seeing his resolve Achilles sighed again, “I will not argue with you again, come if you wish to. It seems as if there is little to change your mind after all of these years.”
 
It was almost shocking at how quickly he had agreed, but he had never been one to question his lover.
 
“But it will not be anytime soon.”
 
Patroclus chuckled against him, “Whatever you say, my love, whatever you say.”

“Fucking-,” Achilles cursed. There was no time for cursing every one of those Trojans, Phiniox’s, and his flank were overwhelmed. By all the Gods Patroclus had been right, there was no way to hold both his own and their third squadron especially with the trap they had walked into. It took him a few moments to decide whether or not…. Another shout from the left wore on his nerves.

His eyes flashed open.

Fine then.

Waving a hand called for a messenger.

“Call my husband here. Quickly” The man bowed.

“Patroclus, I hope you’re satisfied for having made me eat my words,”

he thought, half amused and half enraged.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Your Highness,” a messenger burst in. After all of these years, messages from the front no longer fazed him.
 
Patroclus didn’t even bother to glance up from his paperwork. “Hmm, what is the matter.” 
 
“A messenger from the front. They require your assistant Prince Achilles had specifically asked for you.” Clicking his tongue, so he had been right. Well, at least now all of his training and plans wouldn’t go to waste. Achilles must be fuming right now if things had come down to summoning him to the field.
 
“Of course. Tell them I’ll be there soon.” Setting his pen down glanced at his baby fast asleep unaware that he was leaving him. Rising quickly made his way over to the women’s area. 
 
Already seeing her curly hair, “Briseis,” he called softly. 
 
She whipped around taking in his demeanor and amour and frowned, “You’re going again aren’t you.” 
 
He could only nod as there was little to say. He had to; the battle today was a critical stronghold. Lives were at stake.
 
“The last time you went,” she fell silent. He had been visibly pregnant with the little prince. A prince who was still just as spoiled for his mother’s attention. By the Gods what was he thinking?
 
“It is different from last time, I do not have to sneak into battle.”
 
Her nerves were frazzled, he couldn’t not now.
 
“Prince Alexander, you can’t leave him.” Patroclus sighed.
 
“I know but I’ll not be gone long, he won’t notice if you keep him occupied. Please, Briseis as my dearest friend do me this favor.
 
A million things were running through her head that she wanted to say. Yet instead she nodded and silently cursed to herself. Patroclus was long gone sword and bow in hand.

Damn you Achilles. Damn this whole war. Damn the very Gods themselves. Be safe.

Blood, the vitality of life. 
 
The precious liquid of mortals, the air was tinged in its cloying metallic scent. Screams and wails of the pained and dying adding to the already dreary landscape. His uncle would be here soon to collect his due.

Ares dipped his fingers into the still-warm body of the freshest kill by what could be his own embodiment of wrath.

Aristos Achaion

Son of Peleus and the Sea Goddess Thetis had such rage pent up by such a tiny being. A being that sent him such wonderful tributes. Enough to fill the Tigris twice over. 
 
His booming laugh filled the battlefield. 
 
Soon…. Even the oceans would run red.
 
Rubbing the blood across his face, bellowed out a war cry.

_____________________________________

Aphrodite and several of the other Gods grimaced as Ares’ cry reached their ears. Even more so, as they took in the blood smeared across his face, twisted with its mad expression of glee.

Athena glanced at him impassively, so dramatic. Turning her attention back to the field, keeping her eyes on Odysseus and Achilles. Whom she only watched as Patroclus had dutifully made sacrifices to her for the safe return of the father of his child. A foolish venture if ever one, as Achilles was immune to death by the Fates. He would not die until the prophecy came to pass. Yet, she admired his loyalty and dedication to his lover. If only...
 
Aphrodite had rejoined Ares at his side, her earlier disgust gone as they joined the fray. Directing their players into positions, a game that was growing tiresome. The war had dragged for too many years. Five years was enough, anymore was excessive, yet here they were. To settle petty disagreements. If only her father would stop this madness, but even he seemed enthralled by it. Or perhaps it was the fact that Hera was much too busy minding her champions to mind his affairs. 
 
Athea waved a hand moving Odysseus out of danger and his opponent was slain by the sliding of his sword between his ribs. Glancing at the demigod, she was surprised to see Patroclus at his side. Dressed in his armor, sword grinding against a Trojan’s before her hand even moved.
 
 Achilles had neatly dispatched the man, tucking him back into his safe embrace. The longing to snort hit her, if he wanted him safe the battlefield was the last place for it.
 
Yet…Patroclus could hold his own.
 
Watching him move, it was obvious he had trained close with his lover. Their moves were the same only his were slower and clumsier of a mortal yet landed true. 
 
Achilles never strayed far from his side, yet Patroclus seemed curious at what it meant to participate in a battle. Aphrodite had very clearly said that the boy was more of a lover than a fighter. Being content soothing the demigod’s temperament and raising the son he bore him.

He showed promise it was a shame he would never live up to his full yet wasted potential. Patroclus on his own could have been great, yet…. He chose to

become Achilles’ shadow, the chain that tethered him to humanity. For love, he sacrificed everything, a gamble that would only pay off in bloodshed.

Her heart felt heavy even as she watched Alex play with his dog. So happy and carefree, how she wished she too could play happily and be so at ease. This was all he knew, he knew nothing of war, of horrors. The only death he knew was when flowers wilted or his toys “died” Blood he only understood when he had fallen and she to pick him

“

Nanny, nanny it hurts

! I’m dying,

I’m dead

.” The fear in his eyes when he thought he was “dead” like his soldiers. She had soothed him promising him that he wasn’t “dead” or “dying.”

“It’s alright Alex, it’s just a cut see

,” she told him, wiping the red away with a cloth and bandaging it, “

all better.”

His eyes had been so wide so innocent, his soft smile like the rays of the Sun. Patroclus’ smile.

“

Thank you, nanny.”

His chubby arms flung around her neck, she wrapped her arms around him tightly praying that no more harm would come to her charge. As much as Patroclus was his mother, she felt just as much love and care for him. Brushing his curls from his face, made him promise to be more careful.

“A little cut won’t hurt you, but you have to promise that you’ll be more careful. Okay?”

“ I promise,” this time all of his dimples and milk teeth were on his display as he smiled.

“Alright go and play.” she dismissed him and off he went. Rabunicious little boy, her little godson.

“Nanny look!” Alex shouted at her, “Chrysanthe did a trick!”

She nodded and waved at him and off he went again.

War was not a game, yet for children it was. This was being very much true for the actual war. Where

children

knocked things down that were boring or things they wanted to “lose” in the game. Where the players wanted to show off. And the day for it was finally here. Achilles had grown bored of it like a child and his entertainment now consisted of showing off in front of Patroclus. Dragging him off to witness how all fell to his sword. It wasn’t enough for him to come back to him smelling of blood and guts, but no he had to baptize Patroclus in slaughter as well. Leaving him as coated and reeking of Death as him. This was merely another way for him to leave his possessive mark on him. 
 
As the years had gone on her hatred of him had dimmed, but her suspicion and wariness never left her.
 
 If anything it had only grown, Achilles had little ticks one she deciphered. He had an interesting way of manipulating things into his favor and changing his mind in a blink of an eye. Case in point, Patroclus’ sudden return to the battlefield. For years, she had heard tail ends of discussions about why he shouldn’t return.

.. You haven’t rested enough….You need more training…. You should be home with Alexander…….You can train the men….

the list of reasons was endless yet all ceased when Achilles wanted his presence. 
 
Her blood boiled at his casual invitation. Achilles’ sound reasoning was that he needed Patroclus with him to lead the third squad. The truth was he wanted him to swoon like a maiden at his heroics, to witness his miracles on the battlefield…
 
The little prince needed his mother especially now as he was getting into the age of temper tantrums. Patroclus should be home with his son not trapezing all over the battlefield with a power-drunk demigod.

Why now? What had changed for him to be so ready to have him return?

Battle was just as chaotic as he remembered. Although it was different this time as Achilles was right at his side. Shielding him from what he perceived as a danger, really they were shielding each other in between barking orders at their men.
 
 The third squad had left a portion of Agamemnon undefended, Patroclus wasn’t feeling particularly charitable today. If he had to fight a few battles of his own today what was the harm, his men weren’t dying for a coward. Not if he had anything to do about it. Achilles had moved away from him to fight not one but three Trojan soldiers. Sighing, he cut down one while Achilles finished the other two.
 
“Thanks,” he shouted before going right back into the heat of battle.
 
Patroclus turned his head to glance over the battle. The noise, the cloying scent of blood and death.
 
“Patroclus, come on!” Achilles shouted halfway across the field. How had he gotten way over there?
 
Nevermind it.
 
Right as he turned from the field, he met a bottomless pool of black. A face carved from marble
 
Thetis.
 
Her face told him everything he needed to know about her opinion of him being there. Yet her eyes were looking not at her but her son, who commanded troops as easily as he breathed. When he caught her gaze again, she hissed at him. Or at least he thought so she was too far away to tell. 
 
“Patroclus, stick close to me!” He boomed again. Patroclus inwardly rolled his eyes, why not just place a target on his back for the Trojans. Honestly, was he trying to get himself killed? 
 
Nonetheless, he raced to meet him. Adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Helen hummed ever so slightly to herself, as she added more men to her tapestry. Her tribute to those lost to this war. The women of Troy still avoided her like the plague, well she had in a way brought a plague onto their fair city. 
 
Her only ally was in bed suffering a miscarriage. The shock of her family’s demise had caused it, the Scourge of Troy had ensured that none of the bloodline had been spared save for one.
 
 Her heart grieved for her, losing a child was a level of suffering she would not wish on not even her greatest enemy. Shame at the feeling of your body betraying you when all you want is to bring forth a child. Yet Paris hadn’t found her pain at the loss of their child as such an event. He merely suggested they try again and pray that the Gods would reward them for the fruits of their labor. The rage she had felt was palatable. She had traded one birdcage for another one. Men were all the same, how foolish she had been being charmed by some pretty words. 
 
“

I love yous

,” were meaningless unless you truly meant it. She had been so desperate for a crumb of affection. Helen cursed Aphrodite for causing her heart to be so easily caught, so easily broken. Menelaus’ betrayals. His bastards. Her miscarriages. Paris’ indifference. Why couldn’t she be loved? Why was she so unlucky, why was her life like this?
 
Her beauty, of course. For the millionth time, she wished she was plain. Yet her beauty was all she had, all that gave her value, without it. Who was she? Queen of Sparta? Mother? Helen? Helen of Troy?
 
She didn’t know anymore.

“Mother, mother, I pray for your assistance.”

Children could be so troublesome, always provoking things they didn’t understand. Yet she couldn’t let him get hurt as his mother. Flying to his side shifted her son from danger, the blow would have pierced him right through his stomach had she not come.
 
Aphrodite flinched, a love had just fizzled out. Whatever feelings that had been there were dead. As if they had never truly existed in the first place.

Tch

, how troublesome. 
 
A lost follower, a loss of part of a devoted couple. Worship she would lose if she didn’t fix this.

Come now Helen, one misunderstanding and you behave as if the world is ending. This is not the first time a man will fail you, you must have courage. He loves you still. He started a war just to marry you.

Before she could even turn to fly to Helen, something hit her. Red hot pain bubbled through her, no more like a mortal had stabbed her. Which little mortal had gotten bold enough to even dare? 
 
Ocean blue eyes met her violet ones, there was not a trace of regret or fear in those eyes. He had meant to hurt her, had wanted to hurt her. Fine then puny mortal, she would curse him to be unlucky in love, see how he liked that.
 
She hollered a sound that carried across the battlefield. Alerting Ares of her pain, he would make those Greeks pay for their violence against her.

___________________________

Diomedes had prayed to Athena for strength, strength to take revenge on his enemies. Strength which she gladly granted, he had cornered Aeneas ready to slash him to pieces. When the coward had called forth his goddess mother. What was with these demigods, so entitled to the point they called their mothers to fight their battles? His sword sank into her side just as she turned away. At first, it had been an accident. Now he sunk it even deeper so what if it was the Goddess of Love, he had little love left to give. All love would go to his sons, provided he survived daring to challenge a god. 
 
“
I will grant you the strength to battle against those who have wronged you. Use your strength and if even you must do not strike at any gods save for Aphrodite. She is weak in warfare and will run like her cowardly champion

.”

Athena’s words danced in his head and he withdrew his sword. Well, it was too late now what was done, was done.
 
He was already cursed in love why not vent his frustration just a fraction.

By evening, he and Achilles were covered in gore from head to toe. Every step he took made a sicking squish. No doubt his sandals were coated in both mud and blood, yet he couldn’t even look down if he wanted to. There were too many enemies to fight against, the third squad had recovered due to his thinking of pulling them from serving as Agamenon’s personal human shields. Coward, how he was their commander the thought made him shake his head. Then

Patroclus remembered that all of this one big farce and he held no true power solely from what was given to him. Odysseus and the Gods pulled the real strings.

The Trojans still refused to retreat, they had finally gained a strong enough foothold to hold them back from the city walls. In five years that they had been here, this was all they had to show for it, closer to Troy by miles and calling it a victory. An agonized cry spread over the field.

Achilles quickly pulled him against him, coagulated blood rubbed against his cheek. His fingers slide against his cool armor.
 
 “A god has been injured,” he whispered.
 
“Who?” He whispered back. Even if Achilles had not said his stomach felt the oppressive presence.
 
Achilles said nothing, holding him even closer as the battlefield around them gained an eerie stillness, yet there were still skirmishes occurring. Until even they realized the issue. The sound slowly faded, but Achilles still had not let him go. 
 
“Wait, there are several gods here, I do not know their intention, just stay here with me.”
 
Patroclus sighed, “Alright.” 
 
“Good.”
 
Another loud noise erupted over the battlefield, against his ear Achilles’ heart thumped steadily in his chest. Despite everything, his was steady while his own pounded in his ears. 
 
Slowly the battlefield returned to normal and the Trojans rushed towards them. Arms tightened around him a moment before he was released. 
 
“Stick close to me and don’t wander,” Achilles shouted over the renewed shouts of battle.
 
“I won’t, you know I won’t,” he shouted back.

_______________________________

By the time Apollo’s chariot had drawn evening well into the horizon, Patroclus was so tired he was ready to pass out the movement they returned to camp. Mud and caked to his sandals, his armor was so slicked in blood that it dripped down him with each step. Achilles was in similar shape if not worse with his hair turned russet from the gore staining it, only the end of his braid revealed the true color. Yet as tired as he felt, strangely he felt energized at least enough to undress. Longing to lie in bed and sleep until he felt somewhat balanced again. How had Achilles done this all day every day for the past five years?
 
 Patroclus just realized that Achilles had been watching him since he started stripping off his bloodied armor. Staring at him a moment as if analyzing him. Patroclus braced himself for a scolding instead

Achilles….

Mmh, slowly the surprise faded and he found himself pressed between him and the wall. Each kiss was worship, pressed against his skin with such a feathery softness. His heart was thumping at each one.

“You were so beautiful,” His forehead

So brave, so perfect” His lashes

“Wonderful.” His cheeks.

“ My Patroclus.” Achilles murmured against his neck, where the finally kissed had been placed.
 
Oh.
 
Heat built up in his cheeks quickly, no matter how many times he heard this praise. Patroclus always felt so shy, Gods Achilles’ sweet tongue was bad for his heart. 
 
“I only did as my commander directed me to do.” Achilles’ face crumpled into confusion.
 
“Agamemnon?” A dark snarling beast was waking up, how dare he even dream to order his beloved- then Patroclus clasped his face.
 
Patroclus’ dark eyes twinkled as he kissed his cheek, “No, you, my lord.”
 
“Oh,” now his cheeks were red. Patroclus always played such naughty tricks, yet he couldn't help but be enchanted by him.
 
“I’m no one’s lord least of all yours. I’m your equal as much as you are mine,” he whispered lingering over his lips... 
 
“Hmm, I know but I do not mind having you lord over me if only for a” Patroclus glanced up at him from under his lashes, “moment.” Mink.
 
Gods give him the strength, Patroclus-.“Driving me crazy is that all you know how to do?” 
 
“I have many talents but this is my specialty,” letting his thumb brush against his plump lips. Patroclus let their breaths linger together ever so slightly, Achilles watched him as a man starved.
 
“Keep teasing me, love. You know how I return it in kind.” Achilles’ breath tickled at his neck tinged in promise- a threat almost.  
 
Patroclus paid his threat no mind, placing himself in more firmly against Achilles’ solid chest.
 
“Then return it in kind, I’ll pay it no mind,” his fingers teased at his chest, “in fact I would relish it.” Then he drew away from him, fingers threaded through his dragging past their bedroom.
 
“Come take a bath with me.” Patroclus didn’t ask as much demanded. 
 
Achilles smirked a little, “Of course.”

________________________________________

Alexander lined up his wooden ships and troops. Each year on his birthday, Patroclus would gift him more. So he had plenty to play with. 
 
Patroclus looked at him fondly as Chrysanthe made herself comfortable in his lap while he petted her. Achilles was in charge of ensuring the Greek beat the Trojans.

“Father you have to knock them down or else our soldiers won’t win.” Alex told him flicking a row down while moving his “Greeks” forward. 
 
“Right sorry.” He had been a little distracted, that this child’s game resembled reality. 
 
Alex just beamed at him, all of his milk teeth and dimples on display, “It’s okay, it’s your first time. Even Mama was bad at it.” Patroclus shrugged a little at him, going back to pampering Chrysante, such a spoil thing she had become for belly rubs. 
 
Achilles flicked at the row of soldiers, thinking back to early today how he and Patroclus both had sliced through Trojans just as easily. This feeling of unease wouldn’t go away. Alex was a clever child, a credit to them both. Yet when he spoke of the war, he spoke of it as if he understood. 
 
That thought chilled him to his very being.

Just a little longer, just a little longer.

He prayed that Alex would stay innocent just a little longer.

They could stay in this little bubble sheltered from reality, from all of the cruelty that awaited them. So he could keep their bright smiles tucked close to heart. Keep this moment perfectly frozen in time.

If Alex noticed Patroclus was no longer around as often, he didn’t make a fuss about it as he had Chrysanthe, Briseis, Androcles, and Damocles, and his cousin Eurysakes to distract him. 
 
They more than made up for it when they came home. Playing soldiers or whatever he wished until he was sleepy before reciting myths and poems while tucking him in. This was only a temporary solution as it was becoming more and more apparent that no matter how well he and Patroclus worked together, he was depriving his son of his mother. Alex needed this structure while he was still young already he had opportunities of a normal childhood taken from him by being brought up in a war camp. He did not need to feel the absence of his mother too. Not to mention the danger he placed Patroclus in at every opportunity. 
 
Patroclus however deflected every time he brought up the topic. Throwing himself into drills, paperwork, and healing. Now that he was too busy to go to the medical tent, soldiers came to their camp to be treated. Minor wounds and illness and such. Life-threatening ones were still treated in the main medical tent. His love was adored for not only his kindness but his ruthlessness in the field. Their men celebrated that they had not lost a man thanks to Patroclus subtly shifting the focus from Agamemnon’s troops. Agamemnon's abandonment had led to a great victory for them, an entire Trojan battalion had come to heel. As he had said before Patroclus would not want to leave.
 
Why would he when he could gain his own fame?
 
“

He can be by your side as your equal. None will deny him his place nor can they deny his achievements. Let him be baptized in the blood of Trojans, let his fame be equal to yours ”

No, no matter how tempting it sounded Alexander needed his mother. And Patroclus was already his equal; there was nothing for him to prove to anyone least of all him. 
 
“Patroclus,” he said, suddenly glancing at his husband, cuddling Alex in his arms who was playing with Chrysante. Patroclus hummed at him, but his full attention was not on him yet… he waited a moment before saying this while Alex was distracted.
 
“Speak to me after he has gone to sleep, love.” 
 
“I’ll hold you to it.” Achilles said, looking back at their mountain of paperwork. War was Hell but the paperwork was a new level to it.

______________________________

“Now you wish to scold me,” Patroclus said the moment their door shut. Alex was sleeping deeply with his dog in arms.
 
He took a deep breath, “I’m not scolding just…”
 
Patroclus stalked over to him, “I know it's a concern. You worry too much.” Achilles went to embrace him however he sidestepped him. To sit on the bed.
 
“Our roles seem to have switched.” 
 
“So they have.” Dark eyes studied him, “Is that such a terrible thing?”
 
“Perhaps.”
 
Patroclus exhaled, laying on the bed, “I’m too tired to play a game of wits. What is it you wish to say?”
 
“You love a game of wits.”
 
His love glared at him, “Achilles.” Holding up his hands as a gesture of peace.
 
“Usually, but you do…”
 
“Achilles.” Patroclus’ groan was smothered by the pillows, “say whatever is on your mind, I’m too tired to play games with you.”
 
“Sorry, I know you’re tired. And tomorrow,” he exhaled sitting on the bed, Patroclus scooted over so that his head rested against his thigh.
 
“Tomorrow I think you should not go.” He had laid it all in the open.
 
Patroclus rolled over to look up at him, “Hm, I don’t even have to ask why I because I already know your mind and how it works.”

What you have thought and what has concocted in it.

“No,” he said simply. Stubborn by all the Gods, they were a perfect match.
 
“It’s not like that.”
 
“Tell me what it is like then,” Patroclus mused.
 
“Achilles, you love me and you love to spoil me. Anyone with eyes could see how you adore me but I do not wish to know for being snuggled against your thigh.”
 
“What’s wrong with that? Aren’t you being snuggled now?.” Achilles joked a little to ease the tension, but what was so wrong with him protecting and spoiling him.
 
“I do not feel as if I’m your equal, you see me as fragile and in need of protection. And I have to constantly prove to you that I do not need it despite my nature.”
 
“You are my equal and you do not need to prove anything to me, ever.” 
 
“No, Achilles, I’m not. I will never be your equal no matter how I try.”
 
“You-” Achilles tried.
 
Patroclus neatly intercepted, “We both know this is the truth there is little room to refute it.”
 
“It doesn’t matter because even if I’m not. I’ll try to become your equal which is-”
 
“I’ve never cared about that.” 
 
“I care about it.” He had to.
 
“Then don’t, their opinions don’t matter and so what if you stay behind and tend to the ill and injured and care for our child. Damn them and don’t take their words to heart.” 
 
“Achilles-,” Patroclus started.
 
“All we seem to do lately is argue and I hate it, my love.” Achilles let his fingers lightly tangle in Patroclus’ dark curls.
 
“Neither of us can ever agree with the other because we are both equally stubborn.” Patroclus curled up more in his lap, soaking up his attention. Lately, things have been strained between them, their were hardly moments where they could just be.
 
“We can never just- move on. We must always hurt each other with harsh words and I'm tired of it too.”
 
“Then I’m sorry.”
 
“I’m sorry too,” They both froze as they apologized at the same time then giggled.
 
“I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry that-.”
 
“I’m sorry for being pig-headed as you like to claim.” 
 
Patroclus laughed a little, reaching up to caress his face, “I’m happy.” Achilles let himself memorize the very curve of his fingers. 
 
“Me too,” he said, kissing a knuckle. 
 
“I love you, you know I do. I would go crazy without you, Patroclus tell me that you know.”
 
Patroclus blew out a soft breath, “More than anything, I feel the very same.”
 
Achilles confessed something that had been on his mind, words that had haunted them long before they set sail, “Every night I count your breaths. I won’t sleep whenever you’re ill… Chiron always warned me to be careful with you because you were-,” he fumbled for the right word. More than warned, Achilles was acutely aware of it in every cold, chill, fever, fall, cut and even childbirth could kill him. The closest he had come to losing him was the day he had bled out. The thought drove him mad but it was a fundamental part of what made Patroclus, Patroclus. His smile, his laugh, the way his freckles spread everywhere, his unruly curls. How precious his life was even in the short span it bloomed.
 
“Mortal,” Patroclus said, cheek pressing against his thigh.
 
“He was right you know, I was too rough with you, the bruises I used to leave on you.” his tone deprecating now.
 
“He was wrong, I’m not so fragile that I need protection at all times. I can handle a few bumps and bruises,” This is exactly what he had contended with the urgency to always prove himself to his lover. 
 
“You don’t understand, I know Gods, I know that you are independent and self-sufficient but I can’t help my nature. I want…”

place you somewhere only I know, a place I can keep you safe. A place we would be happy and safe. Where Alex could be a normal happy child. I can’t lose you.

“The day you-,” Achilles closed his eyes, the horror of that day was still so fresh in mind, “I lost control, begging any God to spare you. You were dying or at least I thought you were dying... I can’t.”
 
“Patroclus I beg of you, please don’t make me live without you.” Tears began to drip down his cheeks. 
 
Patroclus sat up at last pressed Achilles’ head to his chest, “Ssh, it’s alright my love. I wouldn’t leave you.”
 
“You once told me you can’t promise such things. No one can, not even me.” He was spiraling, saying things he shouldn’t. Patroclus always saw him at his most vulnerable, yet he never felt ashamed or weak.
 
“Even if we can’t promise such things, we will be together, always.” Patroclus soothed.
 
“It would be selfish of me to ask you to leave the battlefield when I was the one who invited you back in the first place. I had forgotten just why I had forbidden you in the beginning. It’s just too dangerous. Not to mention I feel as if I’m taking you from our son.”
 
“He’s growing isn’t he.” Patroclus seizing on the last of it, elegantly avoiding the rest. Ever the diplomat, if he wanted surely he could go toe to toe with Odysseus in a battle of wits.
 
“He is.” 
 
Patroclus sighed as his fingers brushed through golden strands, “I was much too tired for a battle of wits yet here we are. Yet this was long overdue.”
 
“It was.” Achilles was beginning to feel drowsy against Patroclus’ rhythmic fingers.
 
“Sorry.” Achilles apologized again, for what. He wasn’t sure anymore.
 
Patroclus’ heartbeat thumped steadily under his ear, “For what?” 
 
“I-everything I suppose.”

For being a controlling ass and for disregarding your strength.

“No, we have already said our apologies. The matter is over, let it rest.”
 
“Is it true or are you just lying in wait?” 
 
Patroclus stopped, “We already have agreed long ago that I would go back to the field. I had even won the duel fairly but relented to look after our child. You told me that I wouldn’t go anytime soon, then the very next moment called me to the field. Make up your mind so that I can ready a course of action. Do you want me at your side? Just answer me this.”
 
More than anything, of course, he wanted his lover at his side as he conquered Troy however doing so was to make sacrifices. Tainting Patroclus and leaving their child motherless.
 
“I- you know-.”
 
“Yes or no?” Patroclus wouldn’t let go with such flimsy answers, “it is a simple question.”
 
Achilles tried deflection, “You have no taste for killing. You said it yourself, you have no talent, no heart for it.”
 
“Maybe I have developed a taste.” Patroclus said, “one doesn’t need talent or heart to satisfy a craving.”
 
“How vicious.”
 
“I can be if needed.” Gods didn’t he know it, “answer me.” Achilles folded as he always did when 
it came to him.
 
“Yes.” The answer would always be yes.
 
Patroclus leaned back ever so slightly, “Then I remain.”
 
“Patroclus!” 
 
His love lifted one of his eyebrows ever so elegantly, “Until I can have a replacement trained to take my place.” 
 
Now he felt rather foolish for shouting, but what if there was a semblance of truth in his words? 
 
“You’re right, I can not leave our child to wage war, yet I can not leave our men defenseless. Agamemnon does not need our support nor will we give it anymore. I would rather watch him bled out than have one more of our men died because of him. I’m caught between two duties and ultimately I choose our child every time. Believe me.”
 
Achilles accepted it all with grace, “I promise you I will not let this continue.”

I’ll make it so, we may not be able to challenge him in the open but all have noticed our lack of troops coming to his aid.

“Then I promise to stay home with Alex as long as you aren’t in danger. This is my only condition.”
 
“I agree to it all.” Patroclus was satisfied and flopped into bed. They had talked for some time and now he was beginning to feel sleepy.
 
“Patroclus, you are my equal. You have nothing to prove to anyone. Not even me, please believe me when I say this. I love you for you.” 
 
“ Achilles, I know but I feel as if I have to prove it to myself,” he let Achilles draw him into his chest, “I have to make myself worthy.”
 
“You already are.” Achilles swore, kissing his forehead, “You have always been.”

Chrysanthe was barking as Alex threw a ball, Patroclus watched him a moment before turning back to skinning the deer in front of him. He had five more to butcher.
 
No doubt as soon as he had finished. Achilles would drop another at his feet like a cat bringing its owners a very juicy rat. Smug and satisfied, Patroclus snickered to himself. His Achilles was the best at everything he did there was nothing in which he could not do. 
 
“Patroclus.” Ah, he had spoken too soon. Achilles greeted with yet another deer slung over his shoulders. Setting it down and just as predicted wanted his praise. 
 
He tutted lightly, “Achilles if you’re going to hunt so many then at least do it more slowly. I can’t butcher them all.”
 
Achilles pouted at him ever so slightly, before his mischievous grin was back, “Then I’ll help you.” He glanced back a moment before facing him again.
 
“Speaking of help, where is Alex?” Patroclus neatly finished pulling out the insides. A streak of blood was across his cheek, from where he wiped. 
 
“Playing.”
 
“Hm, alright then. And why aren’t the other women helping you.” Patroclus scoffed inwardly after Achilles had welcomed him back to the field they had been considerably frosty to him. Seeing that he had in some way betrayed their trust. He held no ill-feeling towards them, he had a duty to fulfill, judgment or not.
 
“They are busy with their work. Help me finish this and don’t worry them about this.”

Achilles bit back on what he truly wanted to say. There was obviously more than what appeared however there would be more time later to address it.
 
So they played a little while working, and with Achilles' strength had skinned and butchered what was needed and the rest was to be put away for drying. 
 
Patroclus had hung up that last of the hides to be treated when Achilles slotted himself against his neck.
 
His breath teasing at his ear, “I’ll hunt a wolf, it’ll make a fine pelt for you. What do you think?” 
 
“Dangerous, I don’t need a new one, I’m happy with the one you gave me before.” Achilles groaned behind him.
 
“I won’t be in any danger.”
 
Patroclus chuckled, “I meant for the wolf, I pity it.”
 
Achilles huffed, “Then I won’t, something else will have to do.” Spoiling Patroclus was downright impossible, he always insisted he did not need new things. 
 
“Or I can simply keep you wrapped around me like so.” His love suggested casually, wrapping his arms further around his waist. Looking up at him so coyly through his lashes.  
 
“I-” Gods his heart, only Patroclus managed to have such an effect on him.
 
“You’ll keep me warm wouldn’t you?” How could he ever say no to such a beauty, his beauty....
 
“Always,” he promised. He was still going to have a fine cloak hunted from him and Alex both. He was not going to risk them becoming ill. If not a wolf, perhaps a bear, their fur was thicker.

Days between battle had become his sanctuary. Patroclus wished he was able to sleep in but alas the list of things to do was never short. Alex, training, paperwork, and the day to running of the camp. There was no time. 
 
However one look at the daunting pile of scrolls, he now understood why Achilles avoided it to the very last second. There was no end to it.
 
“Patroclus,” Achilles said, drawing him from the pile. 
 
“Come with me.”
 
“But-.” Achilles shook his head.
 
“Leave it I’ll do it.” He was doubtful, however, at that moment, he couldn’t care less.
 
“Where are we going?” Achilles hummed, eyes twinkling. 
 
“You’ll see.”

______________________________________

“Tsk,” and some direction from his heel, and the horse was off. Patroclus didn’t even use the reins and still, the horse followed his direction. Achilles was impressed, to say the least. 
 
“How did you learn to ride like that?” he asked in awe. Xanthus kept a steady pace and  Patroclus glanced back at him.
 
“From a scroll, I found once,” he said, cheekily grinning at him. Achilles urged Balius on.
 
“It wasn’t hard, my love. I learned from a scroll that told the legend of a barbarian people that can ride their horses hand free so they can shoot arrows,” he told him urging his horse to face him. 
 
“Try it, I bet you can do,” his dark eyes gleamed with mirth. Patroclus again directed his horse over to him. 
 
“Here, let me,” he reached over, to loosen the reins from his hand. Out of reflex, he rested his hands on the horse's back. Patroclus sniggered, at his side. 
 
“Should you be more focused on leading your horse?” he asked, hoping to distract him. Struggling to fight the urge to reach for his reins. Patroclus clicked his tongue at him. 
 
“ Whatever do you mean?” he moved his horse ahead of him showing off how he hadn’t used the reins. 
 
“ I'm fine, my love. Are you?” he was so sassy, today. He tried to keep astride his horse, it was so strange to ride like this but soon found his balance. Patroclus was right, once he got the hang of it, it was rather easy. Hmm if they were to show this to the troops this could be quite useful. Patroclus never ceased to amaze him with his creativity.
 
He urged his horse to catch up with him. “A race my love?” Patroclus asked. Achilles laughed and urged his horse to catch up with him. 
 
Together they were off heading from the beach, feeling for once like the shadow of boys they had once been.

___________________________

Riding back into camp, Briseis lead Alex over. Alex’s arms are already reaching for his mama. 
 
“Mama, I wanna ride too,” Alex ever spoiled for his mother's attention. Patroclus, never one to deny him, leaned over to pick him up. 
 
“Hold on, my little love,” he told him and Alex held the reins in his chubby hands. Patroclus held him firmly against his chest so he wouldn’t fall. 
 
“ There you go,” his love was directing the horse by his thighs pretending to let Alex take the lead. 
 
“Charge,” they both laughed at his antics. With one hand he pretends to hold a sword. His son raised his arm as high as he could lift it. Achilles felt a chill creeping up his spine. His lover and child continued to play on, unaware of his turmoil. 
 
One day his son would be commanding his troops. He prayed that day would never come. 
 
“Mama go faster, please” his lover chuckled and urged Xanthus to go a little faster. 
 
Achilles watched them about to join them when a figure from the corner of his eyes caught his attention.
 
Briseis. 
 
He watched her curiously for a moment, she appeared anxious for whatever reason. Alex was in no danger, Patroclus would never harm come to him. Suddenly it hit him, and he followed her eyes, Patroclus was the focus he found. Not Alex. Part of him wanted to be hurt, they were somewhat close now. He would have thought by now that she would have given up her feelings for Patroclus. The other part was furious that she had dared to cast her eyes his way. Yet, he dare not blame her, Patroclus’ had such a gentle heart. She had not acted on her feelings, so for now he would leave the matter be. 
 
That in mind, lead his horse closer to Patroclus’. Alex giggled at him, reaching out and wanted to go with him.
 
Achilles took him easily.
 
“Papa, we have to go. I’m ready.” Emerald eyes the same as his own sparkled at the thought of riding. 
 
“Go where my son?” Achilles asked fondly. There was nothing he would deny his son.
 
Alex appeared to think a moment, then exclaimed, “The meadow.” 
 
“Alright.” already leading the horse in the direction of the meadow that was filled to the brim with flowers. When autumn settled they would rot so it was best to enjoy their fleeting beauty.
 
Patroclus dismounted when they reached the clearing, leading Xanthus the rest of the way.

Achilles did the same, ensuring Alex was safely in his arms. Balius and Xanthus needed not to be tied as they would stay as they should without interference. They were quite pleased with the meadow filled with precious flowers for them to eat.
 
Alexander was still enthralled with the horses, watching as they ate. They however paid him no mind, Patroclus dropped into a spot and was already weaving a flower crown of violet, yellow and white. Alex watched the horses a moment more before diving into his mother’s lap. 
 
“Mama, are you making that for me?” 
 
“Mmh, just for my baby,” Patroclus said.
 
“What about me?” Achilles asked leaning against his shoulder.
 
“I’ll make you one too, my love.”

Spoiled things they were

.
 
Patroclus laid on the grass content to watch his lover and son dart around the meadow. Achilles reverted to a childlike state when it came to Alex, he was always eager to go along with his whims. Hide and seek or tag. Then again he had been the same when they were children.
 
“Father, you cheated!” Alex yelled out as Achilles found yet another one of his hiding places.
 
“I did not.” He heard his lover's indignant reply. Patroclus snickered to himself, Achilles probably had cheated and Alex had called him out.
 
“I’ll tell Papa on you….” Alex threatened. Patroclus rested on his elbows, he supposed he would just have to wait for them to come over and drag him into the game.

Until… his eyelids became heavier and heavier.
 
Patroclus was to have been their impartial judge in the war of fairness, however.

Alex peered at his mother a moment before glancing back at him.
 
“Papa’s taking a nap.” 
 
“Yes?” Achilles hoped he wouldn’t wake him up.
 
Alex didn't; instead grabbed his hand and led him away from Patroclus’ prone figure.  
 
“We have to play quietly or else we will wake him up. Okay?” Alex’s expression was serious as if he had been given an extraordinary mission. Pfft- his son was just too cute, embodying every bit of Patroclus’ commanding personality.
 
Amused he grabbed his hand, “Okay.” Alex beamed at him, as they wandered further from the flowers. Above it, all Patroclus had given their son his compassion. Sometimes he wondered if Alex had any of his traits besides his coloring. 
 
Achilles entertained Alex around while Patroclus napped in the grass. His love needed his rest, these past few months had been nothing but a strain on him. 
 
“Father, look!” Alex’s voice carried. Achilles ran to him and found a slimy green frog waiting for him. 
 
“Here you go.” The slippery creature jumped from his hands straight for his face. While his son giggled.
 
Good Gods.
 
Alexander was his son there was no doubt in that. Mischievous little imp.
 
“Father stop,” Alex screeched in laughter as he tickled him, “I’m sorry.”

________________________________________________________________________

Chyrsanthe hadn't been the only one expecting that fall, other women in the camps were expecting. From time to time Patroclus found himself longing for what they have and yet when he glanced at Alex all he felt was contentment. 
 
Alex had been overjoyed at the thought of having more dogs to play with. Although it had brought numerous uncomfortable questions.
 
“Papa, father where do babies come from?” Alex asked observing Chrysathe lick her newborn pups. 
 
Achilles subtly had cast his eyes towards him as a way to wiggle out of the conversation. Innocent summer eyes turned to him now. 
 
“Well…” Patroclus started, glancing at his husband for support. Achilles only shrugged at him. For all the Gods’ sakes, he was not ready to have “the talk” with their son especially this soon.
 
“Well- you see when you want to have a baby then you’ll have a baby.” Technically it was partly true, except that having a baby could also happen unexpectedly. Alexander appeared to be satisfied for now Patroclus internally breathed a sigh of relief.

Alex lit up, “Oh then can I have a baby, they’re very cute?” 
 
Achilles choked behind him, Patroclus too had to recover from the shock, yet his statement was guileless like only a child could ask. Pff- Gods his child was too cute. 
 
Amending his statement slightly, “You have to be older to have a baby.” His son pouted at him then.
 
“But I want one,” in the precious and innocent way only that children could. 
 
Patroclus laughed a little then, “Then when you are older you shall have one. I promise.” 
 
Alex pouted a little more but glanced at Chrysanthe, “But Chrysante has a baby, multiple babies!”
 
He and Achilles shared a glance, speaking solely with their eyes.

Oh, that’s what he had meant the puppies. Thank the Gods.

Achilles!

What?

By the Gods he loved but sometimes he gave him a headache. Of course, he had meant-

Nevermind it.

What did I say?

Nothing.

“Then Papa, father can we keep them?” 
 
“Of course we can, they’re your puppies,” Patroclus said diplomatically. 
 
“Thank you, Papa,” Alex said, jumping his arms. Achilles was sulking as he wasn’t hugged first, honestly, both father and son were too much alike.
 
“Thank your father too,” he murmured into his curls. Alex immediately was bundling up into his father’s lap.
 
“Thank you father,” he said, kissing his cheek.
 
“Anything you for you my son.” Patroclus laughed a little, Achilles would grow to regret such things when Alex was older. Then a truth he hadn’t thought about in a long time hit him, “

If he is still alive when Alexander is grown.

” He had grown complacent in their little life here. Forgetting that Troy was not their home, that there was a war.
 
“Mama?” Alex's soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.
 
Patroclus replied distractedly, “Hmm, yes my love?”
 
“Then do you want a baby?” Achilles stiffened. Patroclus blinked a moment before laughing and scooping Alexander into his arms, smothering his cheeks in kisses. Alex laughed as he did so.
 
“I have a baby whom I wished ever hard for, so no my love I do not need another baby.”
 
Alex burrowed against his cheek, “Promise, I’ll be your only baby. I don’t wanna share mama with another baby.” Chrysanthe had so many puppies so he could only imagine having to share his mama with another baby and he didn’t want that. Mama was his only. 
 
Patroclus kissed his cheek again, “Promise. Alexander will be my only baby forever and forever.” Spinning them making Alex giggled as he clung to him.
 
“And I’ll be your baby forever.” 
 
Clever little thing, of course, he was going to their baby no matter how old he was.
 
“Always.” Patroclus cuddled him close, Gods he loved his child. 
 
His blessing.

Winter wore on all their nerves, this one was snowy and miserably cold. A first since their first year here. Alex had been fascinated with the powder white landscape at first, yet when he realized that he was going to be stuck inside more. He grew a tad cross. 
 
There was little to do as the battles came only if the weather was good, more often than not they were all together. Alex did lessons with him while Achilles did paperwork. If the boredom grew too much, Achilles would tell stories or they made up games on the spot. Anything to keep their child occupied and each other from going stir crazy. 
 
Patroclus found that Achilles and Alex had come to enjoy his cooking. However, couldn’t take all the credit after Chiron had taught him all he knew with some new tricks learned from the women in camp. They were simple meals yet Achilles looked at him as if he had solved a great puzzle. He and Alex both were always asking for seconds, which he was all too happy to provide. Chuckling all the while fixing them another serving. 
 
Chrysanthe and her pups were being looked after by Alex and then they were shuffled off to their warm bed made from Alex’s old baby blankets and various scraps that had been laying around.
 
“It was wonderful as always, my love.” he praised, kissing his cheek once more. Patroclus took his praise in stride as he cleaned the dishes, instead directing Achilles to get Alex ready for bed. Satisfied that their home was neat, and ensured that Alex was tucked into their bed. Yet curiously jade eyes peeked at him from the furs, just waiting to be bundled in his arms. Patroclus blew out the candle and let Alex snuggle into his arms. 
 
“Mama, tell me a story,” Alex demanded his face pressed at his shoulder.
 
“Which one?” 
 
“Any one.”
 
“Just one and then you have to go to sleep, alright,” Patroclus said, tucking him under his chin.
 
“Yes, mama.” 
 
Achilles was already half asleep when he finished his tale of Hades and Persephone. 
 
“I’m glad they’re happy in the end,” Alex murmured sleepily against him. Patroclus too was struggling to stay awake.
 
“Me too my love,” he said kissing his forehead, “pleasant dreams.” He too slipped into sleep when he jolted ever so slightly from it.
 
 A biting icy feeling that wrapped around his ankles, feeling like a hand pulling at him from the darkness. Bewildered woke up to find the room, washed in cold moonlight, it was cool enough that he saw his breath. Slowly his thumping heart began to relax, the brazier had gone out nothing was grabbing at him. Checking on his lover and son found them contently snoozing away. The unease wouldn’t leave him though, someone or something had been watching them.

Part of him was tempted to wake Achilles up, but then what would he tell him that he had felt paranoid that they’re being watched. Patroclus cringed when his bare feet touched the chilly floor, which only served to amplify the eeriness of the room.
 
Wood creaked under his weight ever so slightly as he fed the brazier more charcoal. A blast of warmth that was much too quick to be the brazier hit him, now more than anything he wanted Achilles up. Gently he poked at his shoulder, Achilles didn’t move. Experrated smacked him, and finally, he stopped snoring. Emerald eyes glowed in the moonlight, alert at once. His golden curls fell tangled around his face, making him look all the more soft and sleepy. 
 
“What is the matter?” As disorderly as he was, his fingers were already going for the dagger kept under their pillow. 
 
Patroclus hesitated a moment, as cat-shaped eyes continued to bore into him.
 
“Patroclus?” Achilles asked again, “what’s the matter?” 
 
“I woke up the feeling that something had grabbed me. A feeling of cold hands wrapped around my ankle.” Saying it out loud he felt all the more childish, waking him up because he had been frightened.
 
Achilles blinked, “ Did you feel a presence? Was it like-” Both of them had a similar mindset, there was only one person whose touch was so cold, yet it felt nothing like Thetis’ heavy presence of storms and waves, but of primal fear? He shook his head.
 
“It wasn’t her, it felt almost feral-.”

It felt like it wanted to hurt me-us,

“but disappeared.” Or at least he thinks it had, Gods he hoped so.
 
 Achilles said nothing further, but beckoned to him “Come here.” Safe in his arms, Patroclus began to feel some sense of ease. Perhaps it had just been his imagination.

“It’s alright. I’m here and nothing will hurt you. I won’t let anything hurt you two,” Now he felt like a child, cuddling his husband’s arms being coaxed and coddled. Yet there was no place he would rather be. 
 
“Achilles what was it?” 
 
“I don’t know.” He knew very well that the Gods had sought to make contact. The last thing he wanted to do was alarm him to a new threat, his lover already had enough stress. What they wanted pertained to him and him alone. There had been no need to frighten his lover, thank for small mercies that Alex was a solid sleeper.
 
“But it’s alright, I’m here now.” Patroclus after a while went back to sleep yet he couldn't with the faint lingering scent of blood and scorched earth. Again he was thankful that Patroclus hadn’t noticed.
 
What had Ares and Apollo wanted from him?

________________________________________

“
ENOUGH ARES!!!
” Apollo hissed wrenching the bloodthirst god away from the sleeping family. He held no care for them yet… even this was too much.

Ares broke from his grip soon after, “
I wish not to kill him but to make him my champion. Give him my blessing. He is the very embodiment of wrath, he breathes it. With me at his side, blood will flow all the more freely.
” All this animal knew was blood and terror.

“
You know as well as I do that we AREN’T TO INTERFERE.”
Their father had been very clear on that.
 
Ares smirked so wide his teeth showed the blood gleamed against them, “
Hasn’t stopped us yet, brother.
”
 
He had a point there, interference had become the norm as the war progressed, heroes and gods alike had become enthralled by the symphony of it all. It was the most chaos they had seen in years and they thrived on it. Despite pleas and cries for mercy.
 
“
Besides it's not as if your hands are clean either. All of us one way or another have tainted our hands with their blood.
” 
 
“
They are cleaner than yours
,” he retorted, “
Leave him be before Aphrodite finds out that you have sought to bless the enemy with an advantage after they have so horribly maimed her
.”
 
Ares’ smirk dropped into a scowl, his eyes flashed red with warning yet he left. 
 
 Internally he sighed, first his sister wished to gift a blessing to

Aristos Achaion

’s son for the kindness he had shown a dog. What was it about this family that had all of the Gods ready to either tear them apart or drown them in rewards and accolades?
 
Thetis with Eileithyia had forced Achilles’ lover to miscarry. Swearing up and down that he was a cow-eyed slut that had seduced and misled her son to stray from his path to greatness. Oh, poor Thetis never would she understand that her age had long passed.
 
Aphrodite, blessing their union with beautiful children and a healthy set of twins shortly. Simply because their fornication was one of the purest forms of love, she had experienced. Then again no one expected too much from her as she was always flocking about. Creating chaos wherever she felt best, Troy had just become a casualty to this. Atlantis had too.
 
Ganymede too had shown some favors to the young couple. There was no end to the boons that had been distributed to them.
 
Finally, even Hera had gotten involved with them when Thetis had once again threatened Achilles’ lover and child. Again when it came time for the birth of said child sending his sister to make amends. She had even blessed a vow between them for marriage.
 
Apollo clicked his tongue, all this was being dragged out because Achilles had yet to set his bloodlust on Hector. Apollo truly dreaded the day that
his
descendants would be wiped away from petty gain. Yet that was their way of life, in time his hurt would ease too. All of this protesting was futile, yet the thought of the war continuing brought him a sense of comfort.
 
He paused just a moment watching Patroclus pad across the floor to where he stood invisible next to the brazier. Apollo remembered him vaguely, Achilles had prayed to him especially for his health. At the time he had granted it on a whim, to be owed a favor later. Perhaps if the young demigod became a God, it was always useful to get minor gods on one’s side.
 
 Warm light from the brazier cast a glow around his high cheeks and long lashes, dare he say for a moment his breath caught. Further examining the mortal’s appearance, supposed he was rather pretty in his own way. If not a little plain yet his aura was warm and welcoming. Almost similar to
his
... no never. Apollo blew out a breath of frustration.
 
The mortal froze and he knew he had been sensed. Sparing just a final glance before the demigod woke up. 
 
Patroclus, he tasted the name on his tongue.

Glory to the father indeed.

After their nightly encounter, he kept a closer eye on things at home. Patroclus had been shaken up a bit but gradually had forgotten about it, thinking it only lingering feelings from sleep and a draft. Achilles wished it had been, whatever they wanted it was filled with ill intentions.
 
So this is the price he paid since foregoing his mother’s protection. Gods ready to drag him from his bed to force him into the prophecy.

Fine then, let them. He would kill them first.

“Eursakyes are you sure this is a good idea,” Alex asked his cousin who only grinned.
 
“It’s fine, father won’t mind. We are helping.” Alex was doubtful but if it meant that they could help defeat the Trojans he would do anything to help. Then his parents would have more time to play with him.
 
“Okay.” They went back to drawing lines on the map. 
 
They were almost done when….
 
Ajax bellowed, “Oi, you brats what are you up too!”
 
Eursakyes froze before he uttered, “Run!”
 
They took off for the safety of his mother… only their path had been blocked.

_________________________________________________________________

Patroclus nearly sent the ink shattering when the door flew open, instantly on his guard. Only to have his son rush into his arms, shaking. Cooing at him to tell him what was the matter, Alex clutched his tunic tight before asking.
 
"Papa, are giants really real, and do they eat people? l” Clearly alarmed. His son’s skin was freezing, rubbing his arms hoping to warm him.
 
Patroclus had to think for a moment, to be honest, he wasn't quite sure that they weren't real. So many things he had seen in his youth were proof enough that if centaurs and other monsters were real then so were giants. Yet telling his already alarmed child this may have been a step too far.
 
Instead, he deflected, Achilles often used it, why not him, "I- who told you they're real."
 
Alex wasted no time hoping his mother would answer quickly "Ajax."
 
“Why did he tell you such a story?” Why in the Gods’ name was he filling children’s minds with such terrifying tales? 
 
Alex fidgets, and Patroclus already knew he had committed some form of mischief with his cousin, Eursakyes. Thick as thieves those two. 
 
Patroclus decided to feed into Ajax’s tale since he was being so naughty.
 
“They are real, unfortunately,” he said as seriously as his face could handle. 
 
Oh his poor son had paled several shades, “A-Ah they're real. Oh my Gods, I'm going to be eaten,” he exclaimed.
 
“Only if you’re naughty,” Patroclus said returning to making bandages. Alex scooted next to him, practically burying himself against his shoulder.
 
“Papa, you won’t let them eat me right? I promise I’ll be good.”
 
 Ah, maybe he had gone too far, poor thing was terrified.
 
“I would never, my son.” Patroclus smoothed his unruly curls back into place, kissing his forehead. “They would have to eat me first. ” 
 
Alexander didn’t need to know that Mycenae was built by giants that had disappeared. Most weren’t sure if they still existed. Well if it got him to behave just a little more, what was the harm? Ajax was still going to have to deal with him for frightening him in the first place.
 
Later he learned of the havoc the two had done for Ajax to threaten them like such. Drawing all over his war maps. He made sure Alex apologized for his behavior when he saw Ajax.

After a long winter cooped up, this was the perfect way to celebrate spring. Fooling around. Kisses exchanged were sloppy and breathless, cocks rubbing against each other through their tunics. 
 
He had to stop him a few times when the feeling of teeth grew too sharp to ignore. 
 
“No visible marks, ’chilles,” he slurred. Achilles predictably rolled his eyes but complied anyway. 
 
Achilles moved downwards, lips trailing in sync, “I suppose that means places others can’t see,” his jade eyes half-lidded as he grasped his ankle. Laviously kissing up his thighs, “Here’s fine, right?” he asked, nipping at the supple skin of his thighs sucking lightly enough to leave a bruise. 
 
Teeth nipped at him again moving up, hiking his tunic further up, “Here too.” Pure lust shone in his eyes, no doubt his gleamed the same. As he nodded, Achilles spread his thighs around him. Softly he gasped, as entered him locking his ankles at his back to keep him there.
 
 The heat was building between them so quickly each thrust was unrelenting, pent up. Threading his hands back through his golden curls to ground himself. Everything Achilles did was perfect, especially this. The more he tried to match his pace the more erratic he became. 
 
“Ah~,” Slowly he was losing what little thought he had left. Patience had never been either of their strong suits, but Achilles was ruthless today. Yet part of him understood his reasoning. It had been forever since they had been alone like this without interruption. Too many obligations or simply being too tired had put this on the wayside. Now, nothing would stop this, especially today...
 
“Happy birthday, love.” He panted slightly out of breath, fingers teasing at Achilles’s nape. Achilles hummed in acknowledgment, sucking another mark at his neck. Sigh, Achilles.
 
 Vaguely, he registered someone calling out to them, whatever it was it could wait. Unfortunately no. There were troops to command, train, the injured and sick to tend. Lessons to be taught, the thought made him tired. 
 
 Achilles muttered a quiet, “Fuck.” 
 
What was it this time? The possibilities were endless. 
 
“Papa, Father?” the voice called, echoing in the clearing “where are you?”
 
 Achilles then scrambled out from his thighs as if burned. He didn’t blame him as he was closing his legs in a rush and trying to pull down his tunic from around his waist. Sitting as innocently as they could as if they hadn’t just been passionately having sex. 
 
Their child had the best timing, truly. It wasn’t his fault, they would simply have to find a new spot to be alone. Again. Patroclus had been falling apart so beautifully in his arms, too. Sigh.
 
Soft crunches of grass were there their last warning as Alex joyfully threw himself in his arms.

“Papa I missed you!” he exclaimed, Patroclus hummed slightly, wrapping his arms around him briefly. 
 
“My little love,” he said cheerfully, greeting him. Achilles seemed to sulk at how their son came to him first. Alex was after all his little mischievous shadow. The havoc he wrecked with his cousin was legendary. All was remedied when he cuddled up to his father. Patroclus smiled, even now it amazed how much Achilles spoiled Alex with affection. How their son had him completely at his mercy.
 
Emerald green were alight with joy, Alex always radiated such joy. "Papa, guess what?"
 
"What, my love?" What had their little one done today? Had he terrorized the goats with Androcles and Damocles? Or drawn all over battle plans with Eurskayes again. 
 
"Nanny and I were playing hide and seek. She'll never find me here," Alex boasted, his little face tilted upward. Pfft oh, he was too cute, just like that husband of his.
 
Patroclus snickered ever so slightly, pulling Alex close to him until he rested under his chin.
 
"No, of course not, this would be the last place she would look."
 
Achilles rolled his eyes inward. No wonder Alex had been finding them these past few days.
 
Bresies had been his helping hand. Well, they had been leaving him in her care a tad too often. He wondered if Automedon had told her of their hiding spots. For God’s sake, it wouldn’t be so terrible if they could have some privacy. 
 
Ah whatever, it was a lovely birthday anyway. One he could spend with his family. Their little one was growing up so fast. Besides, there was always later when they put him to bed. He glanced at Patroclus who grinned when he caught his eye.

Much later

“Papa, mama. Chrysanthe and the pups are hiding too. I have to find them,” Alex told them innocently. 
 
“Oh are they?” Achilles asked intrigued, no doubt they were safe with Briseis who had accounted for everything.
 
“They are,” Alex told him nodding, his little dimple showing.  
 
“Should we find them?” Patroclus continued. Alexander’s beaming smile was all that was needed.
 
“Let’s go!” Alex was already springing to his feet. He held his hand out for them to take, they of course pretended to use his strength while secretly pushing themselves up. Gods, their son would never stop being so precious, no matter his age.
 
Yes, Achilles couldn’t think of a better afternoon than here with them.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Alexander kicked his legs out ever so slightly, waiting for his mother to finish dressing. Tonight there was to be a grand feast to help honor his father’s birthday. There would be so much food and all of his friends would be there. Yet he was slightly upset, Mama and Papa had been too busy to play with him for the past few days. He pouted, he was their darling, wasn’t he? Didn’t they love him anymore? They had too right?
 
“Mama,” he called, jumping off the bed and burrowing his face into his mother’s tunic.
 
 Immediately his arms are wrapped around him. He loves his mother, who was always ready to comfort him with soothing words and hugs. In his mother’s arms, nothing could ever hurt him. He loves his father too who let him pull naughty pranks without scolding him and who snuck treats behind his mother’s back. 
 
“What’s the matter, my son?” His mother’s bottomless brown eyes meet his, they were so pretty. So warm. Mama. His eyes started watering.
 
“Do you still love me?” He huffed clutching his tunic. Tears dripping down his face.
 
Patroclus was bewildered, who had told his son such a thing. Drying his child’s tears, he squished his chubby cheeks, Alexander pouted instantly. “You are my child, I will always love you. Never doubt my love for you.” 
 
Alexander said in a rush, mama didn’t understand,“ Mama-

Y

ou and father never play with me anymore, what else am I supposed to think? Nanny is nice but I want to play with you and father like we did this afternoon. Play games and eat together. I now only see you when it is time to go to bed.” 
 
Patroclus drew him further into his warmth, trying to soothe him.
 
“Always, Alexander. Your father and I will always love you.” Pecking the top of his golden curls, “I know your father and I have been busy lately but never think for a moment that we don’t love you. You are one of the most important people in the world to us. When I say it as such, it is true. Have I ever lied to you?”
 
Alex thought for a moment, then shook his head. Mama had never lied to him. He was strict when it came to lessons and how many sweets he was allowed but always fair.
 
“No mama, never.” That was all he needed to hear to ease his sadness, mama was magical.
 
“Then you know that I’m telling you the truth.” Brushing at his curls once more, Patroclus kissed his forehead. 
 
His mother smiled stepping back, dimples showing just like his own, “Now are you ready to eat honey cakes, if I recall they are your favorite.” Alex’s mouth formed an “o”. Honey cakes? Oh how he loved those, they were his absolute favorite. He already pictured the warmth of the cakes and the slight smear of honey melting over them. Maybe just this once his mother would let him eat as many as he possibly wanted.
 
“I’m ready!” Alex bounced to the door waiting for his mother, who had a strangely contemplative look all of a sudden. Did he want to stop him from having too many already? Either way, father would be happy to have mama dressed up so pretty. 
 
“Mama come on, Father is waiting.” Honestly, he had waited for Mama enough, father would love him no matter what he wore. It was time to eat honey cakes and give father his present.
 
“He’ll think you're pretty no matter what!” His mother gave him a soft smile, “I suppose your right.”
 
“I love you mama,” he told his mother again, grasping his hand.
 
Mama smiled just as sweetly as before, his eyes warm. “And I love you too my Alex.”

He smiled at his son’s enthusiasm and was happy that he had been able to soothe his worries. Their little one was right, lately, the only time they saw him was when they were putting him to bed. He was being selfish when he should be home with Alex. Yet he couldn’t there was an itch that formed under his skin, he couldn’t just sit still as the war-ravaged on. Something wouldn’t let him leave Achilles to his own devices, he had to act as a form of a limiter. Patroclus would never seek to say that Achilles had perfect temperament at all times because to say such a thing would be a lie. He was an amazing leader, yes, but at times he justified some actions simply because they portrayed him in a better light. Casualties were just casualties to him some days, Greek or Trojan it did not matter. Patroclus had been content to leave him in the field until the truth behind the broken dagger had come to light.

Briesis had told him on the night after his curiosity emerged after asking about Prince Hector and the rest of the Trojan royal family. Achilles too had been eager to learn more about his supposed enemy.

Briseis absorbed his question a moment before answering, “I know nothing of the sons of Priam but I know of Hector’s wife.”

“What of her?” Had he known then what he knew now, he would have never asked. Briseis paused as she often did when telling stories and continued.

“Her name is Andromache, only daughter of King Eetion of Cillicia. Hector loves her above all things.” Achilles laced his fingers through his, perhaps he and Hector weren’t so different after all.

“When he was visiting her kingdom on a diplomatic mission, she welcomed him into her father’s kingdom and entertained him at the feast and he was smitten. He asked for her hand that same night.”

He asked,“ She must be very beautiful?” Briseis shook her head.

“Hector fell not because of her beauty but her intellect. While she is fair, he favors her because of her temperament. She is famous with the country people because she often gives alms and clothes to the poor. Last I heard she was pregnant, but have heard nothing of her giving birth.”

If only he had stopped there with his questioning. Damn his curiosity.

Yet he had.

“Where is Cillicia?” he probed. Briseis’ lips parted, however, Achilles spoke up first.

“It is to the south, along the coast, not far from here by horse.” How had Achilles known that, but at that time had excused it as having access to maps?

“Near Lebos,” Briseis finished for him.

“Oh, it must be nice,” he had said, Alexander had been tugging on his tunic for him to play.

Patroclus smiled as he led him away leaving the two of them.

Later that night, in bed Achilles had posed a tentative question, “Did you know that we raided Cillicia?” Patroclus had to rack his memory, he couldn’t recall it.

“No.” He must have been home with Alexander.

Achilles exhaled slowly, “ I remembered that when we raided there was a man, Eetion. He had eight sons.” Patroclus swallowed, steeling himself for the confession. The tone of his voice gave it away.

“They tried to hold us off.” Achilles was trying to be gentle when Patroclus would rather he be blunt.

So he took away his burden, keeping accusation out of his voice, “You killed them.”

Achilles looked up, his expressions pained by his expression no matter how Patroclus tried to hide it. He never lied, not to him.

“Yes.”

More than anything he was aware of the blood on his hands, both their hands. Blood that would be washed away with soap and water before dinner. The knowledge of it overwhelmed him if just for a moment, how tears had been spilled because of them. Families that they had destroyed in the battle. How Andromache and Hector grieved for their family, Hector had never done anything to him yet this was what the Fates had orchestrated.

Patroclus willed calm into his being, Achilles was here in his embrace. His warmth under his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. All of the strength he possessed pressed dominant under his gentle embrace. Achilles was a force of nature, something that would never change even with time. There was nothing he could do that would change it, he had accepted it long ago. What good was it to ponder? What was done was done. Being upset would not bring the dead back to life. It did not mean that their life had meant nothing, they had meant something to people who had loved them. This is what he grieved for their families, the loss of them.

Achilles broke the silence around them.“I left one son alive,” he said, “The eigth son, so that their bloodline will continue.”

Patroclus absorbed the new information. “I’m glad.” He truly was.

With that small act of mercy, he felt some peace. Some would find it strange that he had not killed all of the family, that one had survived. Had Achilles been another warrior? Surely they would have spared not a single one as it was a great boast, a great glory to say you had wiped out another’s bloodline in combat. The fact that Achilles had spared one son, a son who would go on to have children of his own, and continued it was a sign of compassion.

Achilles drew him further against him, musing, “It is strange to think that Hector has done nothing to me, yet he can not say the same.”

“Hm,” Patroclus muttered, pressing his face deeper into his thumping chest, he wasn’t sure what to say to that.

Long after Achilles was asleep, he was only able to only lie there thinking. Achilles had wiped out Andromache’s entire family, save for one brother. Hector would perhaps take revenge on him for doing so, and then he would be the one left in tears. Yet if Achilles killed Hector she would be the one widowed with a fatherless child. They were truly not so different at all, both loved two men bound by prophecy to die by each other's hand. They stood at their sides praying and hoping that the Gods would show mercy and change their mind.

Patroclus was still in conflict over the matter, it had been what he feared. When it came down to it was he willing to allow Achilles to wreak havoc or- 
 
“Papa look!” Alex called while Achilles spun him around. Leave his child again.
 
“I’m looking, my love,” he called back. Was he selfish for wanting Achilles to slow down? Selfish for wanting him around as their child grew. They were twenty-one now and the war had dragged on for five years. How much more time would the Gods give them? How much more were they able to steal. 
 
Enough of this gloom and doom, this was a celebration. Whatever would come would come. And deal with it as they always had. This was worth fighting for.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As the feast died down, they wandered over to their cliff overlooking the camp. Achilles pointed out to his son all the constellations he could. While fireflies made halos around them.
 
“Hercules, the Demigod.”

“He’s like you, Papa,” Alex asked in awe.

Achilles nodded,“Yes, he is.”

“Prometheus, the giver of Fire to Mankind.”

“Orion, the Hunter.” Alex was even more curious as he told the stories behind them.

“After he was punished by Zeus, Artemis asked Zeus if he would enshrine him in the stars so that she could view him forevermore.”

“Hmm.” his son said settling into his arms

“What the matter, you didn’t like the stories?”

Alex shook his head, “Papa why do the Gods punish people, people like us.” Achilles held his breath and released it ever so slowly. The truth was one could do everything right and still be punished by the Gods. They were petty like that.

“I do not know.” His son wasn’t satisfied in the least with his answers.

“I don’t want to be punished,” his son told him cuddling into his chest.

“I promise you won’t be.” Achilles swore brushing at his curls, Patroclus too soothed their child.

Patroclus took his turn in telling their son silly stories from their childhood, how they had raced across the sands. Eating berries off the trees. Getting stung by bees as they harvested honey straight from the hive.  
 
“We looked up at these same skies as boys. Telling the same stories of heroes and gods. I’ll tell you a secret Alex.”
 
“Really?” He was hanging onto his every word. Patroclus leaned in closer.

“You’re father once tripped into the river when I tricked him into thinking I had caught a big fish.” His statement ended in giggles. Achilles pouted, no fair.

“Mama, that’s so mean,” Alex exclaimed shocked that his sweet mama would do such a thing.

His mother only laughed even harder, a deep laugh that echoed around them, “Oh but he was being so snarky, thinking simply because he had caught more fish, he was a better fisherman.”

“I was only doing that because I thought you would be impressed.” Achilles admitted. Alex and Patroclus both laughed at him this time.

“I was already impressed, you didn’t have to preen so proudly.” Patroclus said, kissing his cheek, “I was already stupidly in love with you.”

Alex wrinkled his nose, ew.

“Mama who is the better fisherman?” he asked hoping his mother would continue.

His mother sighed ever so slightly, before grinning, “Me of course.”

Achilles gasped, pretending to be betrayed “Nuh-uh I’m.” Alex laughed at his silly parents.

“No, it’s me!” He told them his parents glanced at each other before they laughed, taking him into their warm arms.

“Of course it’s you,” they told him, “because you’ll learn from the best.”

Achilles glanced at Patroclus from under his lashes. Patroclus stuck his tongue at him.

Aha, as much as Patroclus liked to claim Alex had gotten his mischief from him, he had gotten some of it from him.

He flinched when the knife slid against his thumb instead of the block of wood. Impassively he watched as his blood was absorbed into the grain. There was no way he would be able to present this to Alex, the stain would never come out. 
 
Achilles rushed over to him, “What?” They both saw the blood seeping into the half-carved soldier. Faintly he realized it as an omen. He gave toy ships and soldiers to his child while Alex was unaware of the true battles that waged beyond this safety they had weaved. It was sickening, yet he did not wish to expose him to this. But what choice was there...
 
“I think it is time that we tell Alex the truth,” Patroclus said abruptly. Achilles glanced up at him in abject horror.

“He’s too young.”
 
“He turns seven this year, how can we possibly hope to keep this charade up.” Alexander had grown too clever and despite how they tried to shield him from the war. It was impossible to stem the tides of every trickle of information. The other children spoke of their fathers’ bravery and how the Trojans would one day fall to them. The games Alex played were all based on reality and that was the hardest thing for them to face. To have Alex’s innocence shattered and to face the fact that his parents had hidden this from him.
 
Achilles gave a long and suffering sigh before speaking again, “Alrighty but we ease him into it gently, he can know about the war, however, I will not allow him to train.”
 
Patroclus nodded slightly, “I agree, however…” Biting his lips wondered how to tell him of the prophecy Thetis had once threatened him with. Another time perhaps, already his heart seemed heavy enough.
 
Both were.

Achilles often observed how other children shunned his son. Alex was as sweet as could be, as he had inherited Patroclus’ kind nature. Alex didn’t pay it any mind, his favorite playmates were Patroclus, Briseis, Automedon, Eursakyes, and Diomedes’ twins.

Still, it hurt him deeply, and it reminded him of his lonely childhood. How the other children had kept him at length. Now they shunned his child because of him and his blood-stain hands caused his child to be an outcast.

________________________________________________________________________________

Patroclus noticed Achilles had been quieter later. 
 
Alex was passed out after a day spent in mischief. He had freed nearly all of the livestock with his cousin because they looked sad. Naughty little imp.

Patroclus had sighed saying, he was too indulgent with their son.

“All he has to do is bat his lashes pretending he is sorry and Achilles you forgive him almost instantly”.

“What’s the matter my love?” he said, wrapping his arms around his neck. Achilles sighed leaned back into his embrace, looking up.
 
“They treat him as an outcast, they exclude him. I’m to blame.”
 
Patroclus sighed, before kissing his forehead. Achilles sank into it, feeling all of his love and warmth in that quick press of lips.
 
“No, my love they aren’t sure what to make of him. Much like our foster brothers, who were in awe of you. Alex is much the same,” he said, moving to brush through his blond curls.

“For he is destined for great things,”

Patroclus whispered dreamily, Achilles froze. That phrase, his mother had said this many times in his life.
 
“What do you mean he is destined for great things?” he asked cautiously, pulling away from him. Patroclus blinked at him, confused.
 
“Who is destined for great things? Achilles, what are you saying?” Achilles could have sworn he had heard him say something.
 
“I could have sworn-, nevermind it then,” he said, settling back in his soothing embrace.
 
“My love, don’t fret, Alex can be quite picky with his playmates. Don’t worry, he’ll grow out of it.” 
 
Patroclus continued to stroke through his hair, “much as you did when we were children. My spoiled prince.” That got a soft laugh out of him. Achilles couldn’t shake the forbidding pit in his stomach.

Summer ended with his birthday, marking yet another year here in Troy. Six years in the war, and their seventh as parents. 
 
Alexander was a clever and kind child when he wasn’t causing an uproar wherever he went. He had a penchant for causing disarray whenever his cousin, Eursakyes came to play. Both of them were like ten children in two bodies. Even Achilles was weary of having to scold him, although in his opinion Achilles was much too lenient on him because Alex would only turn around and cause trouble once more after his father’s back was turned.
 
Today being the best example. Patroclus had told him a million times not to bring Chrysanthe and her puppies around the livestock pens because of all the mud they’ll track. Especially with all the mud around the camp due to the rain, he had told Achilles the same and what did he do? Bring it in much the same. All seven of them came back covered in mud. Achilles was marginally cleaner as he had it only up to his knees however Alex, Chrysanthe, and her pups on the other were caked from head to toe. Patroclus could only sigh and shuttle them off to the tub after a quick wipe. By Zeus where he had-, he just sighed knowing the tub would get the rest.  
 
Achilles grinned at him ever so sheepishly, joking,  “He had to inherit his talent for mischief from somewhere.” His lover wasn’t amused.
 
“Yes, from somewhere,” Patroclus replied drolly, wiping at the mud on his knees. “I wonder where ever from.” Achilles’ face scrunched up suitably scolded.  
 
“Sorry, love.” He went to kiss him, however, Patroclus dodged him and pointed him in the direction of the bathing chamber. Honestly, it felt as if he had two children instead of one.
 
“Go.” Achilles pouted but did as his lover said. 
 
Patroclus scrubbed at the spot, he had just cleaned here yesterday. Although it had been rather cute, and he can’t stay mad at them for long. After all, this hadn’t been the first time nor would it be the last. Sigh.  
 
At least Alex hadn’t set the goats and other livestock free again. He’ll never forget how all the goats and cows had to be corralled back into pens even then they were still searching for a few. Alex reasoned that they had looked sad and wanted to make friends. So he let them out to do so. His sweet son.
“

Mama?” Alexander called from behind him. Patroclus was a tad distracted with his patient, this wound needed extensive stitching but not life-threatening. The scarring shouldn’t be so bad.
 
“Yes, my love.”
 
“Can I go and play with Eursakyes? Androcles and Damocles will be coming too,” he pleaded. Patroclus breathed through his nose ever so slightly, wanting to keep him in his sight. Oh, but when they’re all together the trouble they could cause. Not even the livestock freeing could compare. Yet, Alex's eyes were so pleading, he gave in. Curse his weakness to his puppy eyes.
 
He sighed, “Alright but please stay where Tecamessa can keep an eye on you all.” The last thing he needed was his child getting hurt because he was too occupied with a hurt patient.
 
“I will, mama. I swear.” Just like that, he was off, mischievous little boy.
 
“Children, huh.” the man under him chuckled.
 
“They can be quite a handful,” he replied, moving the needle back through his arm.
 
He flinched ever so slightly.
 
 “Don’t move, this is the last of them.”
 
Finishing he took a small break, all morning he had a steady stream of patients. Minor coughs to wounds to rashes. Finally, he had a break, if Alex was bored of playing then he would take him to the market. This would be the last time to go while the weather was still good as most traders had set their sights on other ventures.
 
While packing up the last of his supplies, he heard a horrible sound. Deep down he knew as only a mother could, that it was Alex’s cry.
 
Immediately he rushed hoping he would get there in time. Gods not his baby.

“Papa!,” Alex’s startled cries, “Papa!” made his blood freeze. Alex was still screaming when he found him bent over with, Eurysakes hovering anxiously.
 
Oh, Gods, his child was covered in blood. Face, hands, tunic. He nearly fell over running to him. Patroclus took his baby into his arms.
 
“Oh, Gods, Alexander what happened?” His sweet little face turned to him red and blotchy, tears continuing to flow down his cheeks. His baby. No, please anyone but him.
 
“Papa, you have to help him,” he cried. 
 
Patroclus finally saw the animal cradled in his son’s arms. Breathing out a sigh of relief, assessed the creature. Oh no poor little thing, he had always been on the smaller pups of the litter.
 
His leg was too far gone for him to do much, it would have been far kinder to put it out of its misery. Alex’s jade eyes pleaded with him to do something, anything. Patroclus could never say no to his little one.
 
“ I will love, I promise.”
 
“You have to,” he continued to cry. Patroclus held his arms out to take the pitiful dog. It whimpered when transferred to his arms. Poor thing.
 
“What happened, my love?” Red started to seep into his tunic mixing with blood from earlier. He ripped the end of it for makeshift bandages. Patroclus tried setting the bone, but the poor thing had lost so much blood. It cried and whimpered as he did so. When it cried, so did his baby. 
 
“They hurt him,” his son spits in the direction of a group of boys, who shrunk back when he cast his eyes upon them. The dog cried more, and his heart squeezed. He was only putting it through more suffering.
 
Patroclus wanted to throw up his hands, but his son looked at him so pleadingly. He was much too young to know of death and such things.
 
“Alex, my love, bring me a needle, thread, bandages..” His son scurried off to their hut.
 
He turned to his cousin, “Gather me some hot water, ask your mother.” The boy nodded and went in the direction of his own mother.
 
Alex came back in a flash of blond curls, kneeling next to him. 
 
“Papa, here,” handing him the needle and thread. He would do his best, but there was no guarantee, the poor thing would survive this ordeal. Eursakyes brought over the water and bandages.
 
Each time the needle pulled through the skin made him howl even louder.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Honestly, what little monsters. Gods, Achilles had been right, they were too cruel to his baby. It was all his fault, had he not been so blinded by his desire to go to the battlefield with Achilles. This was the price to be paid. The children of those women had come to exclude and bully his child. Outwardly they dare not show him hostility yet instead deemed his child a substitute target. 
 
Patroclus sighed to himself. Achilles would no doubt be furious at how long he had kept this from him. Yet there was little one could do to temper the long-held grudge for some of the women. Greek children or not they still grieve for the Trojan children they had buried. Patroclus would never seek to add to their misery, and he would tell Achilles the same. But at the same time, he couldn’t forget this slight against his child, Alexander was innocent like their own children.
 
“Please don’t cry, my it’s alright. He will be fine, I promise.” Patroclus soothed to his crying child.
 
Alexander cried in his lap until his lover came home. Achilles too tried to calm their crying child. His poor husband looked so weary but welcomed him into his arms when he was clean.

Alex sniffled against his chest, while Achilles hummed to him.
 
Awful little beasts. His little one was too sweet just like Patroclus for them to treat him so-so evil.

“Don’t cry my love, I promise tomorrow will be better,” he said kissing his head.

______________________________________________________________________________________

“Bresies,” Achilles called to her, emerald eyes like shards of ice, “what happened here today can never again happen in the future. Make them understand this. Hate me as they like but leave them out of this. Understand.” The way it was phrased, she had no choice but to comply.
 
“I will.” By the Gods, did they have no sense of preservation? After all, they had seen, they still chose the ones closest to him to torment, Pallias, and her group had no idea what they were poked at. Patroclus and Alexander were off-limits to everyone, bullying or harming them was as good as signing up for their execution. Achilles would not care if they were women, he only spared them because of Patroclus there was no reason other than that. 
 
“Good, because if for any reason my child cries like that again, they will be the one crying.” She took that as her dismissal.
 
Once she was in the safety of the women’s tent her legs gave out from under her. By the Gods she felt as she was being hunted, Achilles ready to tear her to shreds. Foolish women. Let them keep poking at such a monster, Pallias was leading them all to their deaths. It wasn’t enough to have turned the women against Patroclus but their children too. Gods, she feared the day when even Patroclus’ benevolence ended but then by extension Achilles would too. Much more quickly.

__________________________________________________________________________

The pup was recovering despite all the odds against him. Oh, but his child still wept for him, poor creature. His heart was very much like his mother’s filled with compassion for all living things.

Achilles brought him, a wooden sword fashioned from the finest oak. At first, he had been hesitant to give him any hint of a weapon but after seeing that it was unavoidable. Nothing that would cause harm but if they even dare to harm his child again, this time Alex would strike back. He and Patroclus were too kind to those who did not deserve it. Little shits.

Crouching down at his son’s level he presented it to him, “ For you to defend those incapable of defending themselves.”

Slightly his tears dried themselves, face brighten with a smile as his hand took the sword.

“Thank you, father.” Achilles brought him into his embrace. His child how dare they.

“You’re welcome, my love. Use it wisely won’t you?”

“Of course father I promise.” Achilles ruffled his hair sending him off.

____________________________________________________________

Patroclus kept Alex even closer to him after that incident. Alex seemed happy to help him with the medical tent in addition to his lessons. Oh, his son was so big now. The Gods give him strength, he wasn’t prepared. No parent ever was. 
 
“Ack mama stop,” Alex fussed, moving from his hands ruffling his hair “you’re embarrassing me in front of my friends.” Off to the side, Patroclus found them patiently waiting for his child. 
 
Hmm so he could be as spoiled as he wanted when it was just them, fine then. Patroclus for good measure pecked his cheek before sending him off. 
 
“Be safe my son and come home before Apollo’s rays come to rest and Selene’s illuminate.” 
 
Alex spared him one more backward glance before he was brought into the fold of his friends. Patroclus watched them a moment, praying there would be no trouble. Then again with the sons of Ajax, Diomedes, and Achilles the gods knew of the havoc they would reap. He sighed Gods be merciful, his chubby face baby had grown up and was just as wicked as his father had been.

_____________________________________________________

“Where is Alex?” Achilles asked him. Patroclus gave him a heavy sigh.

“He went to play with his friends.”

“Ajax’s son too no doubt.” After that incident Achilles was scrutinizing all of Alex’s friends all of them.

“Mhm, I suppose,” he said offhandedly flipping through the newest set of scrolls. Inventory for the grain stores was running rather low. Clicking his tongue, more would have to be purchased when the next set of merchants came. It would be bad if their reserves ran out in the midst of winter.

“Patroclus, he’s a bad influence.” Achilles whined.

“Only his father is a bad influence not Eursakyes. He’s a good child.” If not a little mischievous.

Achilles muttered something he couldn’t hear, but he heard the next part clearly.

“They are cut from the same cloth.”

Patroclus sighed realizing there would be no work done with his husband’s pouting. Settling it down, dragged his fingertips across Achilles’ shoulders before plopping himself down in his lap.

“So are you and Alex.” whispering against his ear.

“Yes, but…”

“No buts, just because you and Ajax do not get on does not mean they don’t.” Patroclus chided him.

Sigh.

“He needs other boys his age to play with so leave them be. Mischievous or not they are good friends.”

Patroclus had a point, but still, he never wanted to see Alex cry or be bullied. Look at one point how close he and Patroclus had once been to the other women. Yet their children had still dared too. Even now his blood boiled at the thought.

“Of course, my love.” Achilles promised, kissing at his neck. However, before anything more substantial happened.

“I’m home!” Alex cried, the sound of the door reverberating against the wall from how it was swung open.

“See.” Patroclus told him, sliding off his lap, “Much the same.”

Patroclus went into the entryway, “Welcome home, my son.” Right at sunset, his son was so obedient.

Alex came right into his arms, no matter his age always so spoiled.

“Mama we went to the river…”

“Were you careful near it?” Patroclus interrupted. Hmph, his mother worried too much.

“Of course mama, I know how to swim.” He hummed but squeezed him a little more.

“Are you hungry?” No doubt he was after his day spent playing.

Alex lifted his head, eyes gleaming, “Yes! Mama, what did you make?”

Patroclus pretended to think, “Me?”

“Why I have no idea?”

“Mama?!”

Patroclus laughed at his son's obvious dismay, “Oh, my love. I’m only kidding. Come eat.”

“Alex.” Achilles called and like an arrow, he was latching onto his father.

“Father.” Achilles grinned, hugging him close.

“My son, you haven’t caused any trouble?” he inquired.

Alex shook his head, “Nope, we just went swimming.”

“That’s it. Nothing else? No one will come screaming about the trouble you four have caused?” Achilles asked again.

Alex again shook his head, “No father, we behaved.”

Achilles ruffled his hair, “Alright, come eat your mother made something delicious for the both of us.”

Summer had come again and the weather was unbearably hot. Even with the breeze of the sea and the cool water of the river. Alexander was turning nine. A day of apprehension, he had been at this age when his life had changed forever.  
 
Achilles had gifted him a hunting knife, promising to take him on his first hunt as the weather became cooler. He hadn’t approved of it but said nothing further at Alex’s joy.

Alex seemed happy to splash at him while Achilles swam a distance away. 
 
He got out a moment to rest and catch his breath, Alex swam to meet his friend. Achilles rested his arms on the bank, watching him. Patroclus scooted until he was running his fingers through his damp hair.
 
“What’s the matter?” He always could tell when something was bothering his lover.
 
Patroclus hummed, “Nothing, I’m alright.” He paused biting at his lips. Achilles patiently waited.
 
“It’s just I’m nervous. He’s nine, Achilles. What if…,” he dared not speak it.
 
“Love, what is it?” 
 
“What if he starts to…” While he had come to terms with his status, Alex was young and he didn’t deserve to face scrutiny. How people would try to mock him and all the horrible things that could happen to him… because he was a carrier. Gods his baby.
 
Achilles was patient with him, leaning against the bank. His blond hair floating at his back in the water. 
 
“Bleed,” he finished in a near whisper as if the mere words could trigger it. 
 
“Well, we’ll deal with it if it comes to that. Don’t fret my love, Alex will come out unruffled. He’s resilient and a fighter like his beautiful mother.”

And he would kill anyone who dared to shame or lay a hand on his child.

“Thank you, love.” Patroclus would never forget the pain. A curse he would never wish on his child, pain that made him feel as if he was dying. Blood that came as it wished, but without such a curse he wouldn’t have had his child at all.

“Father wake up, it’s time to go! You promised you would be ready!” Alex had excitedly busted in room, full volume.  Achilles startled awake with a snort before turning to bury himself further against Patroclus’ chest. 
 
Patroclus who refused to shelter him mocked him softly, “ I carried him and nursed him as a babe, therefore I deserve a break. He is yours this early. Your very spoiled son whom you promised you would take on his first hunting trip.”
 
Alex wasn’t deterred and climbed into bed to whack his father with a pillow, “Father, Get up!”

Achilles groaned at his son whacking his arm again. The day Patroclus had warned him of was finally here, Alexander’s impatient nature had been nurtured by him and now it was time to pay the price. Damn him for being so right.
 
The nine-year-old was still filled with energy, another wack, “Come on father, we have to go!”

Patroclus took no pity on him, going back to sleep. Or pretending to sleep, there was no way he could sleep through all the racket Alex was making.
 
Achilles tried bargaining, “The prey will still be there if we go later.” Alexander would have none of it.
 
“No! we have to go now. Or else the men will get the better prey. Please father.” Damn, he was right, rolling over sat up. His curls were all over so he pushed them back as much as the strands would allow. Pff Patroclus tried not to giggle but he looked much like a bedraggled lion.
 
There would be no victory here only defeat, “Alright, I’m coming. Give me a minute.”
 
“You have to be ready by the time I get back,” Alex ordered, slamming the door. Achilles buried his face in the pillow and groaned, “it’s the ass crack of dawn, why does he want to go so early?'' Gods why.
 
Patroclus snickered at him, sitting up on his elbows clearly enjoying him having him taste his own medicine. 
 
“I’m so happy you’re entertained.” He snapped a little, pushing a stray curl back into the semblance of a ponytail. Dammit, no tie.
 
“My, my~ someone is grumpy this morning.” Based on how hard he had been snoring, Achilles had been deep in sleep until Alex-pff beat him with a pillow. Such a bossy child, he was. One could only wonder where he had gotten it. *cough Achilles* 
 
“It’s not morning, the Sun is barely in the sky.” Patroclus’ eyes only glimmered with even more mirth.
 
“Yet, somehow Alexander is up, therefore you are up. Have fun, I wish you the best on your hunting.” With that Patroclus made himself comfortable again, promptly falling asleep. Achilles stared a moment in bewilderment.
 
Achilles groaned to himself cursing his luck, before finishing his routine. Now that he was up, he was up.
 
Kissing Patroclus’ cheek, whispered this before he left, “I’m off. I’ll catch a fine pelt for you to wear.” 
 
“Father are you ready?” Alex asked, voice carrying throughout the house. Achilles shook his head fondly, spoiled child. Patroclus was right he was worse than his father, no wonder he could get away with everything.
 
Bow in hand, he was now.
 
“I’m ready.”

___________________________________________________________________

“Papa, look what I caught!” Alex burst in the door just as excited as he had been when he left. Now, it was well past lunch, with their catches would no doubt supplement the meat for dinner.

Patroclus turned to see a bundle of bloody rabbits.
 
“Wonderful my love.”
 
Alex preened under his praise, Patroclus couldn’t help but pinch his cheeks. Even as he grew his baby fat stubbornly clung to him, yet he couldn’t deny how much he resembled his father. Golden strands pulled up in the same double braided high ponytail that Achilles favored, piercing green eyes, and the same brand of confidence in his stance. Alex had gotten to the age where sons longed to imitate their fathers. He wanted to dress like him, talk like him, anything to be so much like his hero.
 
“Papa,” his son huffed at him, “stop I’m too old for this.” Patroclus ruffed his hair.
 
“Sorry, my love I couldn’t help it. My son has gotten so big and brought home such a wonderful catch. I’m so proud.”
 
Alexander beamed at him with his dimples showing, “Papa can you help me skin it? I’ll help you prepare it for tonight.”  
 
“Of course, how else can I contribute to my son becoming a man.” His first huntand kill, his baby had grown up so well.
 
Alex watched as he plunged a knife into one of the rabbits skinning it. 
 
Holding it out to him, he directed him to try, “There now you try.” Alex appeared a little hesitant.
 
“What if I mess up?”
 
 Patroclus shrugged. “If you do it’s all a part of learning. Making mistakes, everyone makes them. One will never learn how to do something if they are afraid of making mistakes.” Chiron had told him something similar when he had been young.
 
Alexander’s confidence had needed just that. as he did it the same way he did. The cut was a little clumsy but the meat hadn’t been ruined. With practice, he would get even better.
 
“Good, you now just keep doing it as I showed you.” Patroclus took the one skinned with him to the kitchen. Should he make a stew or cook it as a whole? 
 
Wait a moment.
 
“Alex where is your father?” Normally after Alex came in from playing, Achilles came in shortly after.
 
“He’s still hunting,” Alex said glancing up, “He wanted to bring back something beautiful for you.”

He pouted a little, “He made me come back first because it was too dangerous.” Patroclus bit his lip slightly before releasing it. That man… drove him crazy. At least Alexander spoiled as he was, was obedient to his father’s words, and had come straight home.
 
“Alright then, finish those up, and then come help me in the kitchen.”
 
In the kitchen, he further showed him how to cut it so that none of it was wasted. Now...
 
“Stew or roast?” Patroclus asked his son who thought for a moment.
 
“Stew, I think.” Stew, it was then.
 
Patroclus prepared the meat and Alex watched in amazement again at his quickness with the spices and herbs. Into the pot, it went, and next they worked on bread. Patroclus let him watch it in astoundment at the bread rose, then they kneaded it. When that was finished they cleaned keeping a close eye on the food.
 
“Papa did you learn this in your childhood too?” His mother nodded.
 
“Your father and I grew up in the wilderness. We thrived on whatever was available to us. However,” his eyes twinkled with mirth, “your father is a terrible cook. I’ll never forget how he made a stew. It was much too salty to be eaten.” Yet he had choked it down anyway as Achilles had looked so hopeful. Gods, his husband was precious.

Alex laughed.

________________

Laughter welcomed him home. The next thing that drew his attention when he entered was a smell that promised a warm and hearty meal.

Achilles followed his nose to the kitchen. Patroclus’ back was to him, his attention focused on the pot in front of him, Achilles couldn’t resist, reaching out to grab him, however, his son gave him away.

“Father, you’re back!” 
 
Patroclus whipped around his braid whacking against his chest. Caught had missed the chance to startle him.
 
Instead, he pressed himself against his back and kissed his cheek, “Smells good. You haven’t cooked in a while.” Patroclus’ cheeks were flushed from the heat and his kiss. Gods he was so beautiful, always. Even better he had the chance to eat his cooking, in short, he was beyond pleased. One could only hope Patroclus would like his gift.
 
“I helped too!” Alex butted in, anything to stop this scene in front of him. Remind them that he was here too, “and I killed it too!” Ugh, his parents were so lovey-dovey it was gross. He was right here too. Surely his cousin didn’t have to deal with this, no one’s parents were as embarrassing as his. 
 
Patroclus laughed a little, drawing away from Achilles’ embrace but clearly his lover wouldn’t let go. Inwardly rolling his eyes so childish, Patroclus kissed his cheek back. 
 
 “He did so well today, both of you,” he added seeing the way his husband was pouting clearly seeking praise for his contribution as well. 
 
“It’ll be ready in a moment, go wash up. Alex help me take the bread out, and set the table won’t you?” Patroclus directed.
 
Achilles finally released him, kissing his cheek once more. Alex made a face at his father but they both did as he asked of them. Alone again, he smiled a little to himself, it had been a while since had the time to make them a meal. Tasting it for the last time, he found it perfect.
 
Settling around the table Alexander recounted his day of hunting, in addition to the rabbits, they had taken down a few deers. The women in the camp were butchering it to dry it for winter, and the hides would be taken for various purposes. 
 
He was a tad curious as to what Achilles had gotten up to when he had sent Alexander back home. It had been well past sunset when he finally returned.
 
“What did you hunt for, my love?” A feeling nagged at him yet he wasn’t sure why.
 
Achilles’ cat-shaped grin told him before he even had to ask, “A wolf.” 
 
Of course, he had. Achilles always made good on his promises.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Move six here, then you’ll have it.” Alex’s head was spinning, this was the third time Papa had shown him and he was still nowhere near the answer.  “It’s alright, Alex take your time you’ll get it.” Papa encouraged, “when you rush, you risk making small mistakes, and those mistakes make it harder to get to the answer.” Alex sighed, rested his head against the table, “Can we stop for today, my head hurts.” His mother’s warm hand patted his head. “Of course, go get some fresh air, we’ll try again tomorrow.” Hearing that he popped like a daisy, heading to the door. “Bye, Papa-”  “I’ll be back before Sunset,” Patroclus finished for him. Alex nodded all but running into the sunlight. Patroclus chuckled to himself, they were so alike at times. Well, now his true work began. “Chrysanthe,” he called to their dog, “want to come with me to gather some herbs?”He took the tail wag as a “yes.” Patting her head, they set off. Her rambunctious pups were no doubt are running after his son by now.Peeking from behind the bush, he and his cousin watched as their fathers ran through drills. One day that would be them.  “I can’t wait to start training with them,” his cousin stated. Alex found himself nodding along, even if it would a long time before they were wielding real weapons. Their mothers would never allow it. His mother especially would be particularly against it. Anything that would cause him harm was out of the question. Ah, it was so frustrating at times having to learn letters and numbers instead of learning at his father’s knee the art of war.  “Soon we’ll be able to slaughter those Trojan dogs.” Alex found himself frowning at his statement. His parents had taken the time to explain to him gradually over the years that they were at war with the Trojans for various reasons but none because of hatred. This war was not one of mortal design. “ A war in which the Gods control the tide of the war. We hold nothing against the Trojan people. They do not want this war any more than we do.” His mother had explained to him, while his father nodded.    “If it was up to me none of us would be here, yet The Fates have designed this fate for us.” Both his parents appeared as if they had more to say on the subject but he hadn’t pushed. What he knew of the war was based on what his parents allowed him to know. All he knew was that in the early months of the war, he had been born here. One would say it was the Fates’ designs to have him born on Trojan soil as if he was to fight and die here. Alexander felt deep in his bones that he was going to die here. Maybe not now but he would one day. His entire family may be dragged to Hades’ House. A thought that chilled his soul. His mother and father gone… This is what caused his reluctance to join in his cousin’s childish bloodthirsty threats. It was foolish because despite the games he had played as a child, war was no game. The men who his mother healed were proof of that. Blood and cries of pain from soldiers who had known him from birth, others from the other camps. Many whom died wailing for their mothers, others for mercy or forgiveness from the Gods. All because the Gods sought to settle scores with mortals acting as proxy.  Oh how he hated the Gods for that reason, how they toyed with lives. No matter how his mother taught him to pray, he would never seek to reverend such cruel beings. He was like his father in that regard, neither of them would pray to them. If he did it was only at ceremonies, never private offerings.  “Alex.” He jolted when his cousin nudged him.  “Where did you go again?”  “Somewhere,” he replied, shrugging.  Eurskayes scoffed at him, “You’re always daydreaming. Getting lost in your head.”  “What’s wrong with that?” “You would get killed if you didn’t have me watching your back,” his cousin teased, slapping his back. Alex grinned, “I would be lost without you, brother.”  “And I would be bored without you, brother.” They shared a grin. “Say, brother what if we just happen to disrupt their training. Just a tad.” Eurskayes smirked, “Only if we don’t get caught, I would say that I’m in.”  “We won’t.” If they did his father would only give him the equivalent of a smack on the wrist, now his mother caught him. He would be punished severely. Well, his mother wasn’t going to catch him….“Alexander, I’m incredibly disappointed in you. You know that you are not allowed….They had been so close had it not been for Chrysante’s pups running up to him, giving them away. As much as he loved his companions they had the worst timing. Oh if only his father hadn’t handed him over to mother, like the traitor he was.  He had to try to wiggle out of this, “I had just wanted to see father, I...” “Oh really,” Patroclus drawled. His mother’s arms were crossed, which meant there would be no redemption.  “Then tell me why, you and Eursakyes were hiding behind the training ground, with a good bit of weaponry. Weaponry that your father was planning to use.” Uh oh, his mother’s fingers were tapping a rhythm against his forearms, he was so grounded. No Nanny, no friends, no market, treats, nothing only struck inside doing lessons and chores for the next few days.  Oh, why couldn’t it have been father, he would have just had to apologize and the issue was settled. Father.  Subtly he cast eyes to his father’s, who predictably avoided his gaze. Coward. Then again his mother was quite scary when it came down to it. Father dared not to cross him. So if his mother handed down his punishment he was done for. “Alexander tell me the truth and-,” his mother paused, “perhaps your punishment could be lessened.”  Alex considered his options, if he told them the whole truth Eursakyes would be punished too then he would rarely see him as their fathers didn’t get along. Hm, what to do.  “We wanted to practice too. Father and Uncle Ajax were practicing so we wanted to.” Alex widened his eyes a tad to sell it, “ We just didn’t know which one to start with.” His mother paled, Alex felt guilty knowing how his mother felt about weapons in his hand. His bow and hunting knife were exceptions, other than that. Silently he apologized to his mother in his head. His father gave him a warning look. “But I promise to not touch them again,” he said hurriedly. Papa had uncrossed his arms, leaving them hanging at his side.  “Alexander, I-,” his mother started then stopped, “ go to your room. We will discuss your punishment at a later time.” Seeing an out, took it. Alex hoped his father would speak on his behalf, maybe just once he would get lucky. Patroclus sighed as he flopped into the bed, suitably worn out from scolding his child. Achilles lingered in the doorway, his eyes betraying him. “Don’t say it,” he huffed. Achilles shrugged lightly before laying down beside him. “Say what?”  “That you were right and I was wrong.” he breathed, letting him take him into his arms, “I’m too harsh at times.” “I’ll never say such a thing, because you are always right,” Achilles soothed, petting his curls. He huffed again, that was an exaggeration, he was only right some of the time.   “Oh, Achilles what are we to do? He is trying to pick up a sword.” Alex had struggled under the weight of the weapon off the ground not enough to swing and use but with practice. Gods.Prophecy was again rearing its ugly head, his lover, and now his child. What more would the Gods seek to take from him until they were satisfied.  “I fear that his curiosity has grown too much, there is little we can keep  from him now-” “Of course we can, he does not need to know what keeps us here,” Achilles interrupted.  Alex didn’t need to know of his goddess grandmother, of the tricks and schemes that had led to him being born here instead of Pthtia, and most of all he did not need to know of his father’s quest for godhood. The thought of his father’s death would destroy him, as much as it did him. Most of all Achilles and Alex did not need to know that Alex too was destined for great things. “Perhaps-” Patroclus bit his lip. No, now was not the time. “What is it?”  “Nevermind it, I’m being silly.” Achilles cupped his face searching his eyes. “Never, tell me.” “Should we perhaps let him train,-” Achilles’ face darkened, but before he said more Patroclus continued. “If only to ease his curiosity about war. Achilles, he is older now, he questions us more. There is little we can do to stop him from hearing from others. Or learning from them.” Achilles recalled that when Alex was young how he gravitated to his sword.   Alex held a finger out to the sharp blade, before Achilles caught his hand. Forest green eyes met his and he pouted.

“Don’t play with my sword, Alexander.” His son’s eyes lightly teared up at his harsh tone, and Achilles found himself switching to a more soothing one.
 
“I’m sorry to have yelled, but you could have cut yourself.” Achilles sheathed it, going to comfort his child. Alex cuddled close to his chest as he smoothed out his golden curls before placing a kiss on his forehead.
  “Never again play with it again.”

“ I won't, I promise, father.” 
 When he had seen Alex wielding that sword, his heart too had ached. Just a little longer, he wanted to keep him safe. Keep them both safe until he has the power to shield them. “No.” Patroclus withheld a sigh, “If-” “If he does, then I will send you both home. I will concede much with you, but not this. He will not and that is the end of it.” Patroclus bit his lip. He could only see this coming to backfire on them. “Alright.” he leaned his forehead against his. “I can’t lose either of you, Patroclus. I love you two too much. I have to keep you safe. Please believe me when I say this. This is not to harm or slight your characters, but for your own wellbeing.” “I believe you.”  Achilles took a shuddering breath before he smiled, “Now have you decided how to deal with our little trickster?” Patroclus sighed, closing his eyes at the thought. “Nothing comes to mind.” “Then should we let him go this once?” In a flash, his eyes opened. “This is exactly why he does as he pleases, you let him run wild,”  he accused. Achilles chuckled. “I spoil you both, where is the harm?” The audacity of this man. “Achilles.” “Yes?” “I’m punishing you too.”  “What? Why?” “You know why.”  “How?”  Patroclus drew back from him, “You’ll see.” Well, Alexander, your father tried and for his efforts, he too was to be punished. “Good morning, my love.” his mother greeted him pleasantly setting down his breakfast. “Good morning, Papa,” he said cautiously. His mother had yet to announce his punishment.Any minute now. His father appeared to have had a sleepless night as the dark circles around his eyes were prominent. He greeted him and they both glanced at his mother, who despite his cheerful mood, had said nothing. Something was amiss. By the afternoon, he was sweating. Anything would be better than waiting. Yet his mother had said little outside of his lessons. Even picking herbs, there had been little conversation. Only when he had accidentally tried to pick something poisonous had he intervened. Alex swore to himself, he was going to take his punishment with grace if it meant getting back into his mother’s good graces. Achilles and Alex watched Patroclus akin to a poisonous snake ready to strike at any time. Neither of them had heard much out of him besides, “Good morning,” “What do you want for dinner?” They were both appropriately terrified of his wrath should he decide to unleash it. Two bowls of a steaming stew was set in front of them, but neither of them went to taste it.Patroclus tilted his head at them, already dipping his bread into it, “What’s the matter? Does it taste bad?”  “No of course not-”  “Nothing you make ever tastes bad.”  They both rushed out to console him, stuffing their faces with it. “I’m glad.” Again they exchanged uneasy glances. Still nothing, nothing. They would do anything to be in his good graces again. Anything.Times like these Achilles wished that Ganymede would come and taunt him for being completely stupid when it came to his descendant. Patroclus wasn’t being his usual self or else he would have been in his warm arms, not back to back with him. Hngh why couldn’t he just punish him and be over it already? This was unbearable. Achilles swore, he would never let Alex run wild again. ________________________________________Patroclus hummed ever so slightly to himself, wondering how long it would take before they cracked. At first, he thought the complete silent treatment was too much and elected to have some conversation which only made them more on edge.  Alexander would no doubt tell him the truth and Achilles oh his sweet Achilles would learn not to be so lenient with their mischievous child. They were a team when it came to disciplining their child and not having a united front was undermining their authority. Sigh but he was somewhat at fault for letting Achilles spoil Alex so much because he had thought their relationship cute.  Now as he was growing older, Alex had become more and more unruly. By the Gods, he would hate to have another tyrannical prince running around. So it was best to dip any more of those tendencies in the bud early. _______________________________________________________________“Alexander, may I speak with you?” Papa asked as he picked up his lesson. Alex inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, finally, his mother would punish him and that would be the end of this. Truthfully he was rather sorry about the trouble he had caused, losing his mother’s trust had not been worth briefly impressing his cousin. “Papa, I’m sorry. I-.” Alex began before his mother patted his hand. “I know Alex and perhaps,” his mother bit his lip, a sign he was nervous. Why his mother hadn’t done anything wrong. “No Papa, I was wrong. You and father both have told me that I shouldn’t play with weapons bar my own. I’m sorry.”  Patroclus’ heart softened a fraction, and he warred with the idea of having Alex spending the afternoon copying his formulas. Ah, but he had apologized for his misbehavior, yet... If he eased back into his old ways. Nothing would change. Alex would still hide behind Achilles when he did something naughty and his husband would continue to let him off the hook. “Alex, would you tell me the truth? I know it was more than just the swords. Talk to me” Patroclus paused, “-talk to your father and I. We are always here for you.” Alex bit his lip, such a bad habit he had gotten from his mother.  Taking a breath, released it, “No you aren’t, I’m upset. Neither of you is ever home and if you are you’re too busy to mind me. You are keeping things from me. If I want to know anything I have to seek outside sources.” Sources that rarely warranted the trouble. Everything was censored for his benefit. Adults were so strange at times.

Automatically the words, “You’re too young to understand,” fell from his mother’s lips. They would both say this to him as if he was still a child. “No, I’m not. Eursakyes and I are the same age, but his father will teach him the sword soon.  He has been teaching him the art of war since age seven. I’m eleven and yet I have learned nothing. I’m behind in every way, yet my parents are great warriors.” Patroclus caught the fire in his eyes, an echo of years past. A longing to prove himself. No, please not now. Couldn’t he keep him sheltered just a little longer?  “You and father both are hiding something from me. One day it will be too late to conceal it from me.”  Exhaling, Patroclus spoke, “We are keeping something from you.” They had to, it was for his own good.  His son’s face was filled with hurt, “What why?” What was so secretive that his parents were willing to keep him caged like a bird. “We did not do this out of spite, it is-was to protect you. As parents, all your father and I want is for you to be safe to grow up. I-” He struggled to find the words. Why had this conversation gone like this? Alexander wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready. “We never wanted to burden you with war, we wanted you to be a happy and normal child despite being born here. We were naive in the regard that others would not influence you, but you love you Alex please believe us. When you were born, we loved you so much, you were a blessing after-.” Patroclus stopped himself, there would be another day for that discussion. “You became our heart. Neither of us want to let-” Patroclus was frantic now, how would he hope to make him understand. “Bullshit.” His mother’s eyes widened a fraction at his language, “Androcles, Damocles, and Eursayes’ parents love them, and yet they can train. King Diomedes even personally-” His mother interrupted him harshly, “You are not Androcles, Damocles, or Eursakyes. You are Alexander, our son, and what we as your parents say go. There will be no more discussion about this. You will not pick up a sword.” he apologized towards the end as if it would make the blow any softer, “I’m sorry, my love.”  Alex felt the heat building behind his eyes. How could they just decide such things for him? Even if they were his parents they had no right to permanently map out his future. None whatsoever. Abruptly he stood and was dashing out the door.  He didn’t even stop at his mother’s calls or Chrysanthe or her pups’ barking. He wanted to be alone.______________________________________________
Splash
Small ripples drifted out from the center. Another rock plopped in sending out even more waves The more rocks he threw, the more and more frustration he felt.  Fine then if neither of his parents wished to teach him the art of war so he would just learn it himself. He had a legacy to live up to as Aristos Achaion’s son .  After all, his cousins were more than willing to teach him. Whether they liked it or not, he was no longer a child that they could keep in the dark. Alex sniffled, another tear fell into the water. All he wanted was to help so that the war would end. His parents would be happier and they would be able to go home. He would be able to meet his grandfather who sounded very kind from his letters.  Papa had been too harsh, but no doubt much kinder than Father would have been. Alex recalled the one time he had nearly scraped his finger on his father’s sword, how angry he had become. And his father rarely scolded him, of course, he had apologized but still. What were they hiding? What were they so afraid of? It was just training not as if he was going to the battlefield. One day but not any time soon. It wasn’t fair.__________________________________What greeted him when he came home was not his happy family but his lover sobbing over at the table. “Patroclus, my love.” Red rimmed eyes met his. “Achilles, oh what have I done….” he said in between choked sobs. “What’s the matter? What have you done?”  “Alex,” he choked out at last. “Gods, Achilles, I have ruined everything. I-” Patroclus sucked in a breath trying not to cry.  “We argued and I have not seen him since. I have sent out people to search for him, what if…” “Nothing will happen to him,” Achilles interjected, “He is obedient and will always come home before sunset.” “Not this time, I feel I have angered him too much.” “As angry as he is he would never worry you like so.” “Achilles, he wanted to train and I- I told him that he could not.” Taking a breath found that he needed to center himself. Alex was their pride, their joy, and most of all their precious blessing. A blessing that after much despair had renewed their hope, he was the reason now why they fought so hard to avoid Fates’ machinations. If either of them fell, then who would look after their son. His father was older now, and his mother, the Gods know she would never. Their child would be all alone.  “And he has not returned since then?” he questioned.  His lover only curled further into himself, “I went to look for him immediately, and then went with a party. Nothing, he does not wish to be found or…” both of their minds went to dark places, Alex captured by Trojans or hurt somewhere. Achilles retied the sword at his waist, and said, “Wait here, I will find him.” Patroclus bowed his head in acknowledgment. He had a hunch of where his son was. The one place he was forbidden to go alone.______________________________________“Alexander,” a voice called his name and he glanced up thinking it was his parents. Finding a woman with inky black hair dressed in a golden dress that hugged her stately figure. She was pale as Death with lips as red as his mother’s if not bloodier. Yet it was his eyes that frightened him the most black and dark as night. He scrambled back from the water, she glided from the water. Footprints not even showing in the sand. Immediately he knelt feeling his chest tighten, she was a goddess. Which one he did not know. “Goddess.” he returned, keeping his head down. A strange sound came from her, a moment later he realized she was laughing. “None of that, get up,” she told him, he hesitated because one wrong move+ and it was all over. His parents' stories had prepared him. But to disobey a God or Goddess was as good as a death sentence, so he slowly rose to his knees. “Come child, tell me what has you so distressed,,” she said this kindly, but her eyes were so dead. They reminded him of a gutted fish, bottomless.  He wondered if it was better to conceal his unhappiness in fear of her doing something strange, but decided it was best not to lie to a goddess. “My parents do not wish to let me train with the other boys my age. My mother especially fears that something evil will befall me. My father only goes along with it to ease my mother’s heart,” he told her sadly. Thetis refrained from laughing again, so her gamble was paying off. In the end, Patroclus was willing to rob his son of his potential as a warrior to “keep him safe”. Foolish little slut, such a pristine bloodline was wasted on him. Doing so would only leave him more vulnerable when the time came. Pyrrhus on the other hand had yet to disappoint her,  everything she had wished Achilles had been. Detached from humanity, the greatness feat he could achieve, what Achilles could-should have been. Yet, he threw it all away to play at being mortal, her son was many things but he would never be truly mortal. Achilles could only ever hope to play at it and pray his facade wouldn’t crack. Nevermind that now what to do with this wayward grandchild of hers, it had been proven that Patroclus was not fit to instruct him. Sure he was clever but cleverness only got one so far. Not that she had high hopes for him to begin with because what did he know outside of being her son’s whore. Making herself more at the child’s level, made him an offer, one he wasn’t likely to refuse. “Meet me here when the moon is full and I will train you.” The child eyed her with something akin to suspicion but this was an offer, he wasn’t likely to get anywhere else. He was going to accept it. “What will I tell-,” he began to ask before she interrupted him. If Achilles caught wind of this there was no telling what he would do. After all, it had been many years since she had graced Trojan soil.  “Tell neither of your parents, only come here on the nights the moon is full.” Quickly she calculated the time it would take to even begin to correct and or sharpen his skill. What little foundation he had. It would be a monumental task, but nothing she was not used to. If in the event Pyrrhus ever appears to fail, she would have a spare. Or if both succeed, she would be able to raise them to power. A part of her still hoped that deep down, Achilles would come to see the error of his way. However, it had been years and he had been firm in his promise. She had come tonight thinking it was her son instead she found her grandchild. A prime opportunity. The child grew silent before his head gave a slight tilt, he had decided then, “I’ll do it, I’ll meet you here.” He favored her Achilles, steadfast in what he wanted. Her son’s sole virtue and vice. He wanted godhood that he was willing to do anything.  Well, anything nearly save for giving up his Patroclus. Her son’s vice would prove well in his undoing. “Very well,” she told him, stepping back into the water, “ You should go, your parents are searching for you, frantically.”  She had sensed Achilles’ presence a few miles away. It was best she left before they came to verbal blows. Or even physical ones, she had been his first teacher after all. At this, his eyes widened, before he turned back to her, “Who are you?”

What a bold child, to ask a goddess for their name. Hmph, had they taught this child no awareness when it came to Gods? “It is of no importance to you. Is it?,” she asked and his eyes dropped back down again. “No goddess, it is not. I apologize for my presumptuous behavior.”  “Good now return to them.” Alexander turned to ask her another question before he found that she had gone. Why had she chosen to help him? The Gods did nothing of their own free will, unless there was a reward. Well, he would come to worry about that later. He sighed, dusting the sand from his knees. Running away had been wrong of him especially how his mother worried for him. His mother always worried too much for him. He wasn’t a child anymore, this would be his twelfth spring. Nex year, his thirteen. When would his mother stop treating him as a child? Ugh, it drove him mad. He loved his mother but his smothering was too much at times. “Alexander!” Uh oh, he was in trouble, his parents rarely used his full name unless he was… He had expected to be yelled at, not being enveloped in his father’s strength. “Father, I-I can’t breathe,” he choked out. Immediately he was released with his father’s hand patting his face. Father’s hands were always warm and comforting despite their rough nature. “Come home, he worries for you. We both do.” His father’s eyes were bright, but if one looked deeper one would see the trouble hid in them. Alex sighed, signaling that he wanted back into his father’s arms. He was so much like his parents, yet at the same time so different. However, one thing they all shared was a temper.  “I’m angry at both of you.” he huffed against his father’s heartbeat. His father chuckled, the vibrations echoing under his ear, “Then be angry with us, just come home. Be angry with us, all you like at home. We would rather you be angry with us, safe at home.”  He sighed again, but slowly released his father. “Alright.” His father ruffled his curls. “ Don’t worry us like that again. Or I’ll have to become more restrictive on your whereabouts.” Father threatened such a thing, but they both knew it would never become a reality. He was truly the apple of his parents’ eyes hence why he felt so guilty. They were doing all of this for his sake, but… He couldn’t hope to be sheltered in their bosoms forever. He had to grow and make his own path. Otherwise, how would he ever be respected? He wanted his own name not just shadowed under his parents’. “I won’t,” Alex promised to an extent. He had stroked a deal with a mysterious goddess, one who appeared to know his future._________________________________________When he entered their home, he was enveloped in his mother’s embrace. Rosemary and sage curled around his nose making him feel safe. Home was here in his mother’s arms.  “Oh, my Alex. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” Papa told him. Alex hugged his mother tightly, feeling a deep-seated guilt for what he was hiding. But his was his future, he was set to carve his path, which he could never do by clinging to his mother's skirts. “Me too, Papa. I’m sorry for running off,” he said, withdrawing. No doubt his mother was going to punish him still, but…  His mother cupped his face instead, “No, more apologies. I should have never said such things in the first place.” Papa stopped a moment as if thinking of what to say next.  “I’m sorry that I was harsh with you, but please believe me when I say it was for your own good.” “I know, Papa, and I’m ready to take any punishment for yesterday and today.” Papa’s eyes were soft, “No my love there will be no punishment this time. I’m only glad that you have returned safely to me.” At that, his mother kissed his forehead and sent him off to bed. His parents would no doubt speak alone when they thought he had gone to bed.  Lying in the dark, he stared at the wood beam above him, wondering if what he wanted was truly worth breaking his parents’ hearts, especially his mother’s.  
I’m sorry, Papa. Forgive me.
 He was Icarus from his mother’s story, a boy flying too close to the Sun. Aware of the danger, but too ambitious (and foolish) to care. He was going to be great, perhaps not as great as his father but great still.The goddess had promised it._________________________________________________________________________Thetis lingered a while at the shore watching her son tightly embrace his child. A pang filled her heart at the thought of her other grandchild, the child whom her son wanted no part of. Pyrrhus had been abandoned but not by her, never by her. Achilles could try to hide the truth, his nature from everyone but they were all cut from the same cloth. Blinded by ambition and prophecy. Alexander was supposed to play a large role in how her son proceeded on his path, however. Patroclus had corrupted them both with his blasted morals and humanity. Had she known the danger of leaving Achilles alone with that a cow-eyed vixen, perhaps he would be less restrained.  But no Achilles had been cowed into submission from his youth to always show Patroclus, a kind face. Nothing of the ugliness that truly lurked in his heart. How his impulses could grow if left untempered. Like Gods, demigods were not immune to the pettiness that lurked in humanity. If anything it was much worse. A  face that he was outgrowing, after all these years she was surprised at how her son gave him the illusion of freedom. In reality, he no doubt wanted to hide him away to let none harm or look upon him. Love as she told him before was an obsession for Gods. Drove them to the very pits of despair and madness. That was why despite Zeus’ unfaithfulness to Hera she was always at his side. No matter the destruction caused in the discovery of each affair or grief, she loved him.   She loved Achilles too, he was her proudest achievement. His birth after years of miscarriages and the pain, her perfect son. This is why his betrayal cuts so deep, he was willing to throw all of what she had planned for them for Patroclus. Gods, if she had known then what she knew now, she should have killed him. Slit his throat in the sand right where they had kissed, watching as his life force quenched the Earth. Let Achilles learn that mortals were frail and useless, bound to die one day. However, it would have made no difference, because even before then Achilles had fallen for him. Sigh. Had Achilles never set his sights on him how different things would have gone. How things would be going. Perhaps she had gone wrong trying to kill him in the first place, his miscarriage should have killed him. Yet perhaps it had been a good thing he had survived, Alexander was a rather quaint child. Intelligent yet a tad naive as Achilles has been.  “ Mother.”  She closed her eyes, that boy was long gone.  This was why Gods should not love, for it was more about obsession. Even if they only wanted the best for their loved one, it would only end in tragedy. Things were better when they learned to keep their distance. Achilles too would learn the cost of exposing his heart. All he loved would soon leave him.Alex waited until the light in his parents’ room had been extinguished before carefully cracking open the door. When it suddenly creaked, he froze. After a moment of waiting for one of his parents to get up before slipping out into the night. There as always she was there, illuminated by Selene’s gentle glow. A pair of swords held in each hand.  “Again,,” Thetis said, directing him to raise it again. Alex felt sweat beading down his face and his arms felt like jelly. Yet he raised it taking every blow bore down on the blade with grace. Each one only meant that he was becoming stronger. He would do anything to defend his family.  After their last dispute with Alexander, he and Achilles decided it was best to not be so sheltering. Achilles had relented with some things however the prophecy or Thetis was never to be spoken of. Patroclus too added his own condition, “Let him train with the other boys, his age. My love. I think it will help to ease his feelings of being left out.” Achilles had been silent most of the night before he finally agreed to it. Phiniox would train him with the other boys his age. When he excelled within his class, they would supplement his teachings. A small victory, for helping Alexander avoid his fate. That was all he could ever wish for. Achilles was far too invested in the prophecy’s reach. Even if he said otherwise, it was becoming all too clear. Patroclus resigned himself to the fact 0that every day he was losing his lover, but there was still hope to save his son. The Fates may have swayed Achilles’ heart, but his son was not theirs. They had had their due.No more of his children’s blood would serve to fertilize Mother Gaia.Small sacrifices were to be made in the effort to win the war not the battle. ___________________________________________________________Patroclus watched his son running off with his friends, as they caused mischief wherever they went.Alex was pleased he had stopped coddling him and allowed him to train with the other boys. Boys who were preparing to go to battle. And who could blame him, Alex was his miracle, his blessing. His only child. However, the prophecy had shown him the error of his ways. All that had been foretold would come to pass. There would be no chance for redemption. Guilt ate at him like no other, his mother had allowed him to train with the other boys. Unaware that he spent the nights of the full moon with a Goddess learning the sword.Alex had tried many ways to secretly have her expose her name yet she would not budge. So he called her “My lady” and she appeared to be satisfied with it.He was improving and slowly was close to outperforming the boys in his class. By next year he would be on the battlefield. Phiniox had promised him as muchPapa too had him working with him, teaching him the ways of herbs and how to stitch and pack wounds. He had promised that if he learned well then surgery was next. He was happy, or would be happier if he did not have to hide such a secret from them. Yet this was all for them.Alexander once again readied himself to sneak out, when he heard the tail end of an argument between his parents.“...You can’t… always do…….” Most of it was too muffled by the thick door, but it sounded as if his father had fought with Agamemnon. Androcles and Damocles’ uncle whom he thought was a “self-entitled prick” King Diomedes’ words not his. “Patroclus…” Alex debated listening a little more before realizing the Goddess did not wish to be kept waiting so left.__________________________________________________“Achilles.” Patroclus sighed, “you can not use such methods to get the result you desire. It only serves to antagonize him and alienate you from potential allies.”Achilles snorted, “What allies, my love. We have none.”“Ajax...Diomedes..” he began to list only for him to cut him off.Achilles had to laugh, “Ha. Ajax is of my blood, that is a given. Even that is no guarantee. Diomedes on the other is only on our side. As you once helped him deliver his children after Menelaus had his fun and abandoned him. Otherwise, he would have turned on us like the others.” Patroclus fell silent at that, it was partly true. Diomedes would have sided with the others had things not going as they had. However, although he was crude had some redeeming qualities. The way he loved his children fiercely. Achilles didn’t want to hear that he wanted to hear their options were slim to none. There were no more excuses to give, for a war that had lasted ten going on eleven years. Gods and generals alike were all poised for Achilles to make the final blow. Troy would not fall unless its protector fell with it.  “It sure feels like I’m being besieged by all sides.” They were running out of time, there was nothing left to say. Everything they had tried to avoid had come to fruition. Or would soon. Patroclus placed his hand over his, “You have me, my love. Me and Alexander.”  “We are not your enemy.” Achilles took it, bringing it up to kiss it softly, “Of course, I know you are always on my side.”“Then let us fight together, my Achilles..."He kissed him just to seal their vow perhaps to even soothe his ill at ease mind.Patroclus had no idea what they truly wanted from him, they wanted him to break his promise. Kill Hector so that this war would end, but he refused. Breaking a promise to his beloved was not worth the war ending. It would be worth thousands of lives wasted if he could keep that promise.
It had already cost a few thousand lives, what were a few more?

_____________________________________
“Alex….” someone was calling his name, “my love are you alright?...” He made some sort of noise, too sleepy to care. He just needs to sleep.When he was awoken a second time his mother was holding a bowl to his mouth urging him to drink it. He managed a few mouths full, but it tasted terrible and nothing his mother ever made tasted terrible. “You have a fever…” Everything his mother was saying sounded very dull, only later had he recognized the thudding of pain in his head. “Mama,” he cried out pitifully, “it hurts.” Cold hands came to brush at his temple.“It’s alright, I’m here… Mama is here.” Darkness took him once moreHis dreams were strange, things grabbed him trying to drag him into Tartarus. Dark things with sharp claws and foul breath that reeked of blood.  
“Stop!” Alex screamed, thrashing “ Let me go!” yet they wouldn’t stop. Their claws digging all the more intently.
“Save me. Mama! Papa! Help!” he screamed, yet he was alone.
“Mama, save me…”
 “Ssh, Alex it’s alright. I’m here. Nothing is hurting you, you’re alright.” Patroclus cooed to his thrashing child. Gods, his poor child. His fever had raged for most of the morning and showed no signs of breaking. “How is his fever?” Achilles asked, placing another cloth on his forehead. “It’s not going down, and he’s having nightmares. He barely choked down the broth I made him. I hope it was enough to try and bring it down.” Patroclus said, still stroking through sweaty curls.  Achilles fidgeted, at his side feeling helpless, “The priest is waiting. Do you want me to?” “Yes, please. I can’t leave him not when he is crying out for me in his sleep. My poor child.” “ I worry for him Achilles what if..” No, he would not speak of such things, this was only a sickness. Alex caught colds around this time as he was a spring child not used to the harshness of winter. However, his fever had never lasted this long. “We both do, he will be well, don't worry so, he’ll be well soon. I can promise this.” Achilles kissed his cheek before kissing Alex’s forehead, “Rest my son. Soon you’ll be well again.” Confronting the priest, “Begin.” Cephas nodded, signaling for the animal’s throat to be slit.__________________________________________________________________________________________A little later, Alex came to on his own, aching still however felt more alert. Everything was quiet and dark. His hand felt heavy and turning found his mother’s hand in his. His mother had knelt at his bedside the entire time. Squeezing his mother’s hand hoped to convey that he was awake. Immediately he was smothering the warmth of his mother’s arms, “Oh, my child. You are awake.” Alex rested against his mother, drained, “I’m alright just tired, everything hurts.”  “I know, my love. I’ll get you something to make you well again.” Reluctantly he untangled himself so that Papa could get what he needed to heal him. “I’m tired,” he told his mother, not caring if he sounded like a child. When he was sick all he wanted was to be coddled. For his mother to comfort him after such a terrible experience. “Then sleep, it’ll be a while before it's ready.” Papa soothed, brushing through his curls. His hands were so cool, Alex hated when they drew away from him. Vaguely as he drifted off wondered if his Father would be here when he woke up.__________________He was shaken awake again. “Alex, come drink this.” Again he was forced to drink something, this time it was much less disgusting. It tasted like… Alex smacked his lips, making sure. “Honey..” “Just something to help with fighting the fever.” Papa said, “I’ll teach you the recipe as soon as you’re well.” “Hmm.” he hummed. Papa disappeared before returning with a tray of steaming stew and bread. His stomach rumbled just at the smell. He wolfed it down as fast as possible, everything tasted so wonderful. One never realized how comforting it was to be in the land of the living. Alex was convinced that what has been tugging at him had been the spirits of the dead coming to drag him away. He was safe here, his parents would never allow harm to come to him. His mother helped him change his clothes and bedding for fresh ones. Alex almost asked him to stay before Papa climbed right in with him. Hugging him close, Alex breathed in his familiar rosemary and sage scent. The scent of safety. “It’s alright I’m here. Go to sleep, I’ll protect you.” Papa swore kissing his forehead.  “You’re safe here.”_______________________________________As he began to fall asleep realized that the moon was full. Gods, he had missed their meeting. Alex pondered it for all but a moment. Hopefully, she would still be there for their next one. Patroclus had Alex tucked under his chin, humming a lullaby to which he no longer knew the words. If it had had words, to begin with, one of his mother’s. Or perhaps it was one Achilles had composed. Either way, Alex’s soft yet ragged breathing brought him no peace. He had seemed so well earlier yet now fever had gripped him again. The feeling of warm skin burned uncomfortably at him and imagined it much worse for Alex...“Mama help!” Alex cried. All he could do was hold him close and pray that he would be well soon.________________________________________________________________________Thetis was about to turn from the shore when at last she felt his presence.“You’re late,” she remarked.  “I know.” She whipped around in shock to find her son standing there. Eyes ablaze in fury. “Achilles ….” Part of her believed this was a dream, her son had refused to see or even speak to her after his whore had birthed his child.  “My son…” she began only for him to cruelly cut her off. Her child. “I told you to never come near them, yet here you are. Waiting for my son to mold him as you once did me. Enough is enough, mother. I have had it with you. ” Thetis choked out a laugh, had it with her. She had it with him. “And I with you. You refuse to live up to what you have been called to do. ” she mocked him even if it hurt her, “ I have seen potential in that child, ” pausing, “ Perhaps surpassing your own.” Her son bared his teeth now, “ Leave him be. He’s a child. My child. ” “Now you understand, why I’m so vexed with you now that you have your own. How no matter what you wish for them, they disobey you at every turn.”  “ Besides, I did not come for that child, he came to me,” she sniffed. Her son grew more enraged, “ With some of your trickery no doubt .”  Flashing her teeth was a disappointment at how he bared his own. “I did no such thing, the child was crying after you two refused to train him. Honestly, you’re wasting his potential. He’ll be great…” Yes, she had a tendency to obscure things but never lied. Achilles shook his head, “Enough of this, he will not be returning to you. I would rather train him myself than to have his mind poisoned by you. All your talk had led to my grand entitlement and…” “Your boundless cruelty.” she finished savoring his flinch. Good, it was good for him to remember regardless of how many times he crawled into that whore. Achilles was always like her, like them. He stepped away from her, “ No, I’m nothing like you. Nothing! ” Thetis stepped closer, grasping his face, “But you are. ” she hissed, “ my blood that flows in your veins is what makes you powerful. ” Blood welled up where her nails drew in, “ I made you powerful and this is how you repay me!” She threw him back, “You ungrateful - just like that miserable whore’s son father of yours!” Why did they always come back to his father? Surely he was different, why did she hate him so? “I’m sorry mother for what happened but I never asked to be here to be born. I never asked for you to make me powerful. All I ever wanted…” Achilles stopped, there was no point in arguing with or telling her that all he had ever wanted was her love and affection. These things did not come easy to Gods. He feared the same for when he became one at least Patroclus would be at his side.  “Nevermind it, for it does not matter.” he fixed her with a steely glare, “What matters is that you will stay away from my family. This time I will not show you mercy. ”  Thetis wasn’t sure to laugh or cry. Why had her only child come to despise her so? It had been that’s cow-eyed vixen’s fault for corrupting her son. By the Gods, more than ever she regretted having not killed him when she had the chance. Maybe just maybe her son would see that she was only doing this for his own good. His future, a future where she was free to love him without the fear of death looming. He was all she had left in this world. All she cared about in this world. Yet from the look on his face, she knew that their issue predated Patroclus. Stretching back as far as the day she birthed him. If only he knew that once he tried to take him, once but her world was not suitable for a child.  “As you wish.” she conceded her defeat. It was too late. Achilles’ feet were planted firm on that path of destruction. There would be no salvation as he would perish. His fame was diminished by his soft heart gained from humanity. “Remember my son, we are of the sea. The sea is always cold and merciless.” To all that oppose it. “ So we are. ” Achilles responded just as bitterly._______________________________________________________________________Achilles had wasted enough time with his mother, his son needed him. Sunlight fell across his eyes, Alex jerked to find himself safely cocooned in his parents warmth. Father’s loud and comforting snoring, Papa’s curls against his cheek. Everything was okay, he was safe. As long as they were near nothing would hurt him. With that in mind, he drifted back to sleep. _____________________-------------------------------Androcles stopped suddenly causing Damocles to bump into him. Nearly causing them to collapse in a heap. Androcles shook himself as if to shake a thought from his head.“No, we aren’t going. I-We will see him another day.” Already turning on his heel.His twin snorted, arms crossed blocking his path “Wasn’t it your idea to see if he was well enough to play. Why stop now?”“I-I-I” “I-I nothing. Everyone knows that you like him and you want to kiss him.” Damocles mocked made a kissy face at himHe shoved his brother away, “No, I don't. He’s a friend.”“A friend whom you want to kiss.” Ugh, Androcles hated him, hated that he was right.“He doesn’t see me like that, we are just friends. He likes me only as a friend.” His brother drooped a little. Aw, now he felt bad. Androcles was so uptight, it was boring. A little teasing and he got teary-eyed what a crybaby.  “Well, we can always force mother to let you marry him,” Damocles said to comfort him. Mother was quite the skilled negotiator and their parents were close so marriage won’t be completely out of the question. He had it harder. Eursakyes was so stupid it hurt, and his parents did not get along. Sigh. “Father hates when we call him that,” Androcles replied. The camp grew further and further away, his Alex too. Oh, how he hoped he would be well again. Of course, he liked him, Alex was so mischievous yet sweet. But never in a million years would he admit to anyone, not even his brother. While they may have shared a womb, Damocles was more of an enemy than a friend. He held all of his mother’s worst qualities, namely reveling in others’ misery. His misery especially. It was as if he took a special joy in rattling him out to mother every chance he got and embarrassing him in front of Alexander. Gods. “I don’t care-.” Was the last thing he said before something hit them. By something it was, Eursakyes.  “Oof,” this time they did fall into a heap. Eursakyes jumped right up pulling them along with him. By the Gods his strength. Damocles lightly cradled his arm. He prayed he wasn’t blushing. “He’s awake.” He said and was off sprinting. Damocles glanced over at his brother who had a predictably stupid look on his face. A look that only came about due to Alexander. Ugh. “Just go see him for Gods’ sake. You want to.” he all but snapped. Stupid brother just marry him already. Gods. Everyone knew except for those two. Clueless. He had his pride, stubbornly he held his chin up, “I don’t.”Damocles hid a snort, “Whatever, make up your mind, because today we must meet with father. And we have been putting it off.” Androcles frowned, “Right.” He supposed seeing Alexander would be better than seeing the man who had abandoned his mother. Carriers were always unlucky in love, few found love like Alex’s mother. And he already dreaded the day his blood would come.________________________________________________________________“Your Highness,” they chorused to Alex’s mother who had kindly welcomed them from the cold. He waved them in, “None of that, come in. He’ll be excited to see you.” Alex was coughing when they entered. Androcles wanted to rush to his side, however, Alex’s mother beat him to it.Already holding a bowl to his lips, petting at his curls.Alex coughed when he saw them lingering at the door.“Hey, you came to see me!” Alex exclaimed, scrambling up to adjust his appearance. That didn’t matter because he was well again, nothing else mattered. His vibrant jewel eyes already made him all the more handsome.  Alex’s mother quietly excused himself, and Androcles wanted nothing for him to come back. Having a million questions and then some, things his mother would never answer. Perhaps there would be another time. Right now his friend was recovering, he needed to be present. Putting everything else out of his mind, plastered on a smile. Everything else must wait.Eursakyes came back with his mother in tow. Alex groaned to himself, Papa was supposed to be coddling him not chatting with Tecmessa. Although the twins had visited they had left when their father called them to visit. Ugh, Menelaus was no friend in this household. Cowardly man, he was, having men die for his wounded pride. Absolute scum as his father said.   Alexander had come to hate him for the sadness that haunted his friends’ faces when they went to see him. A father who would never claim them publicly yet always wished for their presence. Yet all knew he was their father but they were princes of their mother’s lands. Bastards in their father’s. Eursakyes pinched him. “Ow. I’m sick, leave me be.” He groused batted hands away.  His cousin fixed him with an even look, “You disappeared again.” “Huh-.” Eursakyes shook his head, “Nevermind it. You have been in and out of fever so your head is more muddled than usual.”  He shrugged, supposing it was true. Alex laid back down, letting his cousin’s mindless chatter bring him back to sleep.__________________________________“Alex is lucky,” Damocles said suddenly. Androcles fell into step beside him. “I guess,” he said airly.  “His father is Aristos Achaion and his mother is both kind and beautiful.” One could be envious of Alex and Eursakyes, both had such loving families. Families that were whole, not fractured. “Do you think father loves us?” Damocles asked quietly. Androcles bit his lip. “In his own way.” His twin snorted almost mockingly, “In his own way. If he had then he would have married mother and we could leave his war behind us. He does not even love her not like he does mother. Mother gave him us. How could he not choose us?” Their father was a weak man, and such men were easily persuaded to ruin.  “You know he can not divorce her. Too much had been sacrificed.” He replied patiently. Damocles always said such things, even after time and time again it had been explained to him. “I hate him.”  Androcles wished to say that he hated him, but couldn’t. Not while seeing the regret so plain on his face each time they came. It would be a regret, he would have to live with. Mother’s heart was lost to him and with it theirs as well.__________________________________________Alex awoke again feeling sluggish but less drained. His mother was asleep beside him, and yet his father was missing. Glancing up nearly shrieked when a shadow moved across the room. All he could see was the gleaming glow of eyes in the dark. His heart rate calmed when it was revealed as his father.  “Fath-,” he began only for his father to make a silencing gesture pointing to his still sleeping mother.  “Oh, sorry,” he whispered. His father sat at the edge of the bed.“When you are well, you shall run drills with me.” Better him than his mother, Gods how had they not noticed.“Really!-” His father made another sshing motion.“Yes.” Wait something wasn’t right, his father was just as worse than his mother when it came to training. Why now? He had to wonder.“Alex, I'm going to ask you something. Have you-” No he was afraid to reveal his relation to her. Alexander was curious to a fault and in doing so would ask more than Achilles was ready to give. Alex surprised him, finishing his thought. “Ever met with a goddess on the nights of the full moon? Yes.”“I see-”“Has she ever told me her name or purpose for seeking me out? No.” “Did she tell you why she chose me, since you met with her father?”“She didn’t say.” Of course, she had, his mother was always fucking scheming. Scheming to drag him back to her side, through any means necessary. “Hmm.” Achilles wouldn’t elaborate further, instead hugging his child tightly. “Father-”“Yes?”“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to keep it a secret. She told me not to say.” That sounded like her.“It’s alright it’s over now, but promise me. In the future, you tell me or your mother if you meet with such a stranger again. God or human, can you promise me this?”“Of course, father.” “Good,” Achilles pecked his forehead, “now sleep. You are still unwell.” “Alright.”Right before he slipped into sleep, “Father?”“Hmm.”Alex bit his lip, “Can you not tell Papa what happened? I don’t want him to worry.”Achilles sighed, “I won’t tell him now, but you must tell him.” As much he hated to mention his mother, he must. “Alright, I will.” From his tone, his son was sulking. Patroclus would always find ways to worry for their child. Alex was Patroclus’ heart, his most precious gift. “Alex, he won’t be angry. He loves you too much, we both do. I’m not angry, just worried. Please say that you will.”“I love you too, father,” he whispered, drifting off. This time his dreams were warmer, idyllic days from his childhood. ___________________________________________________________Spring came again, marking yet another year. Another meaningless year wasted in bloodshed. On a happier note, their child made twelve, energetic and mischievous as always.  “Father look!” he shouted, pointing to the boats at the port. Merchants unloading their goods for the year. Spring and summer always made everything so lively. Especially today, he and Patroclus watched their son flit from shop to shop pointing to all the things he wanted. All the things they would buy him as it was his birthday.  They would indulge him plenty.  And perhaps he would surprise his husband with a gift. However, Patroclus had yet to indicate any interest in the pretty trinkets displayed. Though a rich bolt of navy fabric had caught his eyes briefly before Alex had tugged him away for candy. Achilles made a mental note to buy all of it. His love looked stunning in the color of waves.   As the sunset, settled at a cliff watching the sun dip below the sea. Sweets and other treats had long been devoured, leaving them all slow and sleepy.   “I want a ship.” Their son told them, eyes gleaming as he took in the boats in port. All grand things of polished wood and crisp white sails on the calm turquoise water.  “You have plenty of ships,” Patroclus told him. Alexander shook his head, “I want a real ship with a crew. Just like father.”He and Achilles exchanged a glance, “A ship.” Alex’s fancies were usually small, a pet, more time with them, candy, new toys. A ship. Well… Maybe he could be appeased with a small boat, one that could be taken down lakes and rivers.  Patroclus thought they were on the same page until Achilles said, “Of course, my son. A fine ship you shall have.” The absolute madman. "Until then would you like to go sailing with me tomorrow?” His husband said gesturing to the boats in the port waiting.  “Really?!” Alex exclaimed. “Really,” Achilles chuckled. He too longed for open waters. Salt infused air teasing his senses, his family at his side.  “Is it safe?” his husband questioned at his ear. Alex was still rambling about where he would sail with his majesty fleet. “Of course, the coast is ours,” Achilles boasted, gesturing to the stretch of land, that boarded the port“Hm. A ship, Achilles?” His lover shrugged.“He’ll have many when comes to be my age. I’ll build him a fine fleet.” Patroclus could stare in disappointment, Achilles was never going to stop spoiling their son. Achilles pinched him, before running away. “I think I’ll start now.” he teased sticking his tongue out. That little… he took off after him. “Achilles, put me down!” Patroclus shrieked out in laughter. “Never I’ll never put you down!”“Father, I’m getting dizzy.” Alex cried, still laughing.Achilles pouted, but placed them down. Patroclus nodded and they tackled him. Attacking all of his weak spots until he was red all over from laughing.“No fair,” he got out in between breaths, “neither of you showed any mercy.”“All is fair in war.” Patroclus quoted kissed his cheek.“In love too I suppose.” Achilles replied, returning it. ______________________________________________Inhaling the brine of the sea, with the breeze tickling his hair made him realize he had missed being at sea. Ah, how wonderful it was to be here again. Glancing across the deck found his son starry-eyed by the ship as Achilles patiently walked behind him explaining. Gods, they were too adorable. Turning back to admire the coast, in the distance smoke rose. Patroclus turned back in alarm to see Achilles shake his head and mouth to him, “Raids.”That didn’t ease his mind in the slightest, here they were treating this as an outing, and yet people were being killed. Gods when would this war end.Turning his back from the helm went to where his husband and child were. One day all he asked was for one day. A day without the reminder that war lived at their doorstep.________________________________________________“Have I told you how beautiful you are,” Achilles sweetly crooned, wrapped his face into his beloved’s neck. Patroclus glanced up from his stack of paperwork, giving him an almost coy look, “You tell me every day just how beautiful you find me.” Achilles hummed, continuing to bury himself in his neck, “And have I ever lied to you?” His mother replied with something too quiet to hear, but he knew it was an agreement. Quickly he backtraced from the room. Gross. Alex almost felt embarrassed to have witnessed such a thing, such a private and intimate moment between his parents. Yet. Anyone with eyes knew how devoted his parents were to each other. However, there was a dark edge to their passion. All knew his mother was his father’s anchor. As much as his parents tried to shield him from what was going beyond the safety of the Myrmodian camp, he heard anyway. Whispers that on the battlefield, his father tore through Trojan soldiers as if they were nothing. One could scarcely raise their sword before he had sliced them to pieces. Alex tried to imagine his father as the Scourge or Mad Dog of Troy and could not simply reconcile the monikers with his loving father. His family was always a pinnacle of gossip around the camps, he and his father didn’t behave like the rest of them. They moved too quickly, shined too brightly, always much more than what a mortal should be.  Papa didn’t seem to mind though he loved them just the same, welcoming them home with sunny smiles, and warm hugs. His papa worked as a medic curing those he could and comforting the ones he couldn’t, yet there were rumors even about his mother’s ruthlessness. Ones that stretched even further back than Troy, but those were heard rarely. Instead, he heard from a drunk warrior that while he was in his mother’s womb, that he had slaughtered twenty men to defend his father.   “A fighter this one, not even born, and yet he had a taste of blood. Hell, I would even say he was baptized in it,” one chuckled. When prompted, the soldier told him of his parent’s near-legendary dispute, one some say continued after his birth. “It was the biggest thing, little prince.” he wrinkled his nose at the nickname, nearly everyone called him little prince, or even in some cases little Achilles. The man continued ruffling his hair,   “For months your parents spent nearly every moment wrapped up in each other and by the Gods I mean every moment .”  Ugh, gross. Double gross.  “Then the prince announced that your father was expecting, the entire camp went wild. I mean with all the time they spent together and how round he had gotten we should have known. Ah- well anyway…” He paused to drink from his cup, while Alex kept an eye out for his parents. They were so protective of him, Papa would be particularly nosy. After all, he was supposed to be with Nanny.  “What happened?”  “They argued, Prince Con-no your father threw him out cursing him using every word under the Sun,” the man chuckled. His sweet-tempered Papa swearing at his father was an image he couldn’t comprehend let alone imagine.“Why?” The man shook his head, “None of us ever heard the full story, but all we know is your father was banished from your father’s arms for all but an hour before he was forgiven. Then there was nothing further to say.” The full meaning sank in after a minute, Alex thanked the man and made a swift retreat. Oh gross._______________________________Ganymede laughed to himself watching his youngest descendant. The boy reminded him very much of his pigheaded father. Pfft of all the men his descendant could have chosen and he picks Achilles son of Thetis and Peleus. The boy was handsome no doubt but rarely had any thought process up there. Without him where would his poor descendants be?Perhaps it was time to visit that pesky son-in-law. Enemies on all sides, what rubbish. The only enemy was his own ego.Clicking his tongue let himself fade into the darkness.
You are but a little demi-god despite what your mother had taught you. You have limitations and ultimately you fall under their will not your own. Hubris is a sin for a reason.
 ____________________________________________________Alexander burst in looking as if he had seen a ghost.“Alexander, what’s the matter?” Patroclus asked, his son.“Huh, nothing, Papa,” his son said hurriedly. His son still had a rather spooked air to him much the same as when the tale of giants had terrified him.“It’s nothing, I just realized that I was late for curfew, sorry.” Patroclus watched him a moment longer to see before letting go off to bed. Kissing his forehead, he hoped his son would come to him.Achilles and he shared a glance. Well, he had come home safe, that was all that mattered.A moment later Achilles started again, “Please?”“Nope, flattering me will get you nowhere.”“It isn’t flattery if it is true. You are incredibly beautiful.” Patroclus smirked.“Of course but, it isn’t happening my dearest love. That stack of paperwork is all yours. I have done my duty.” Kissing his cheek.“Goodnight.”___________________________________________________________________Hot weather only brought an urge to lie down somewhere shaded and cool. Unfortunately, there were no breaks in war, even with a heatwave. The medical tent reeked of rot and other foul scents. His front was slashed with blood, as he had performed three amputations with another coming to his table. The leg was a mess, bone protruding from the skin, from being crushed under a chariot. Tsk there was a chance, Patroclus could save it, by setting the bone but dirt and other things had already made it a hallmark of infection. It would have to go. “Alex, can you bring me the milk of poppy?” His son nodded and quickly weaved through the bed to pass him the bottle. A nearly empty bottle, but it was needed to ease both pain and passings. His patient was already slipping into unconsciousness due to the shock of his injury. Sawing through bone and flesh took all of this strength and keeping the patient still was hard with limited help. A foot rested next to his ankle as he sewed up the now gaping socket. A lost limb was grim but better than a lost life._______________________________Never before had Alex seen such blue eyes, so deep it was as if they were drawing him in. Bottomless, endless. However the red pouring into them was ruining their beauty, he had to fix that. Locating the wound, quickly worked to clean it and stitch it as his mother had shown him. The boy bowed his head in thanks, he had gotten lucky. Most would have been killed by a Trojan regardless of their age. Finished with his stitches, examined if he needed to clean up any blood from the said stitches. Their eyes once more and even with all the dirt and grime covering him. He was rather handsome and appearing to be a year older than him. Inky black hair and eyes as blue as the sea, full pink lips.

They both leaned into it, an innocent press of lips. Blue eyes darted to his lips once more before he rose. Had that been a kiss, Alex thought dazed? A thank you for healing him. Such pretty eyes.Somehow he had lost track of time and view of his son. When he spotted his golden curls called him over to rest, before their next batch of patients. Alex was quiet with flushed cheeks, Patroclus checked him for fever and found none. Perhaps his child was only overheated. “Here my love,” he said offering his waterskin, “drink this. You’ll feel better soon.” Alex took it mutely. Limbs and bodies were piled high as the fire was lit. The scent of burning flesh and the mournful air was all too familiar. No matter how familiar it was, it never got any easier. Alex buried his face into his tunic, the smoke must be getting to him. Or it was the smell? The acrid scent of bodies being burned. “Let’s go home.” Sand scrunching beneath their toes. Alex stared out at the horizon. He was going to die, his body would soon be among those that been burned. This was his and that boy’s future, bodies onto a pyre. A well-served sacrifice to the Gods’ vicious appetites. Oh, how he wanted to cry, wanted his mother to comfort him but this was reality._______________________________________________________________________________ Patroclus’ soft breathing rose and fell, Achilles was near drifting too when a weight settled next to him. He didn’t startle, because it was only Alexander coming to sleep with them. Though he hadn’t done it in a while citing that he was growing up. Achilles pulled back the furs to welcome him in.  Alexander was quiet a while, but startled him again when he spoke, “Father what does it feel like to kiss someone?” Achilles fought the urge to check and see if Patroclus would wake up. Gods why did he have to be the one to discuss puberty with their son. His father had been lucky, Chiron had told him what needed to grow into a man. “Like how you feel when you kiss, papa,” Alex elaborated. Grateful for the darkness, his face was burning. Hoping his father wouldn’t breathe a word of this to his mother.

Oh, it was just a crush, praise the Gods. “Every time I kiss him, it feels as if I have kissed him for the first time,” he stated gently. Alex shifted next to him. “Oh.” “Why?,” keeping his tone light, as not to frighten him. Achilles wanted his child to come to him when he had feelings of unease even if it made him a tad uncomfortable,” have you kissed, or thought about kissing someone?” Alex sighed, “Can you promise not to tell papa?” Achilles raised an eyebrow, “Why not?”  He did not approve of this trend of keeping things from Patroclus. “Because he would be upset, he still sees me as the baby that nursed at his breast. I’m no longer a child, father. I’m growing up, I turn thirteen next year.” Achilles mulled over his answer, Patroclus did tend to want to smother their son, when it wasn’t wanted. He could understand wanting to hide things from one’s mother. “Alright, I promise.” “ I kissed someone,” he rushed out, “in the medical tent.” Alex couldn’t make out his father’s face in the darkness, but read the shock in the air. And the bristle of anger that followed. It hadn’t been like that. “I wasn’t taken advantage of, he was nearly my age but for a year.” The air calmed almost immediately. His parents were so protective of him, always trying to baby him.  “How did you feel about it?,” his father was being so nonchalant about this whole thing, and he was freaking out. A kiss wasn’t supposed to feel so final. Alex took a breath, “I don’t know, it was only a quick peck. He seemed embarrassed to have kissed me.”“ Alexander that wasn’t the reason at all, the young man was probably afraid of what would happen if word had gotten back to me or your mother ,” Achilles thought. He flushed, thinking of blue eyes, “At the same time, it seemed as if he wanted to kiss me again. Longer.”  “So you have a crush?” Achilles teased.  Alex hummed snuggling up to him, “No, I think I’ll never see him again, and it was as if he knew that. He is going to die. Not today, but another. I tasted death on his lips. Kisses aren’t supposed to be like that.” His blood froze, Alexander was talking in chilling riddles and prophecy like his Patroclus.  “Don’t say that, you may see him again and get your second kiss.”  “Maybe,” his son muttered at his collar. “How was it you first kissed papa?” Again he was distracting him. Patroclus and Alex both seemed to have the habit of changing the subject when things got for a lack of better words, dark. Achilles allowed it, beginning to tell him how he fell in love with his mother. “He first kissed me when we were both thirteen years old,” he chuckled a little, “ I ran away because I was afraid of what I felt for him and what my mother would say.” Alex sat up.“Your mother is a goddess isn’t she?” “Yes, my love. She is a goddess.” A grandmother he had already met. “What happened next?” Alex had heard how they met but never about their first kiss. “I regretted it almost immediately and spent the next three years hoping he would kiss me again.” Alex wrinkled his nose, “You should have kissed papa sooner, he was probably madly in love with you.” His parents were always making eyes at each other when they thought others weren’t watching. Papa especially blushing just when his father kisses him. Achilles grinned at him, “I did finally kiss him when we were sixteen. I couldn’t take not doing so any longer.” That memory would forever hold his heart, Patroclus’ rosy cheeks, the love in his eyes. He loved him, he would always love him. “And how was it when you kissed him, this time?” “Different in a way I can’t explain. I felt as if I could finally breathe as if he was the very air I needed. The other half of my soul, the one person the Gods made especially for me.” Hearing his father speak so softly about his mother made his own heart fill. Would he ever know of love like that? As if his father read his thoughts, he responded in kind.“Don’t fret, Alex. Love will come to you when you are older, as it did with me and your mother,” his father told him, kissing his forehead,“ Much older.”   Alex sighed against him, “ I hope to see him again, he was so handsome, father.” Achilles mhmhed, “ Oh really?” His curiosity peaked, who was this boy that had captured his son’s attention. “His eyes were like the sea, so blue I think I could just drown in them…” Yet he wondered why he thought of a crimson sunset. Another with stunning blue eyes. Before he noticed dawn was breaking, he and Alex had talked throughout the night. Achilles quietly moved Alex so that he was in his mother’s arms. Another day of killing and such, the thought brought him no joy.  His heart felt heavy, Alexander couldn’t even have his first kiss without the threat of death and war over it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

More crashes sounded from the room, honestly, his mother had such a temper. After all these years, one would think she would stop being so childish. Yet this was the reality he faced, every time he visited her miserable little island. He didn’t visit her because he was a filial son, he visited her for the respite she offered from his grandmother and all her harsh teachings. Despite what he knew lay behind the door knocked anyway, a fake smile on his lips.“Mot-,” the greeting died on his lips when a vase crashed inches from his face. Pyrrhus felt blood seeping from the cut.“GET OUT! I DON’T WISH TO SEE THE HATEFUL FACE THAT YOU HAVE INHERITED,” she screamed at him. another item poised in her hand. All he could do when she got like this was nod and respect her wishes. Ignoring the stinging from his wound, closed the door.  Ah well, there went his break, no doubt his grandmother would be waiting at the shore for him. Waiting to drag him back into the cold, dark, and salty embrace of the sea, where women with knives for teeth waited on him. He had no fear for them now as he was becoming the manor of beings they were. Ha~ Even his father had not had the privilege to be fed ambrosia directly from his grandmother’s hand. Nor would he ever come close to the level of strength that he felt flowing in his body. Perhaps it was a good thing his mother had turned him away today, he felt no true connection to the mortal realm save for one. His father, the same father that had abandoned him to this cold existence.  Some days he wasn’t sure if he was alive or was just a puppet for which his grandmother wielded strings. He acted as she wished making no mistakes. He was perfect, everything his father had failed to achieve.   Pyrrhus would never seek to disappoint her as his father had. He would be better than that. He would achieve Godhood before his father. So what if his lover and baseborn brother held his father’s love while he and his mother had received none. No matter in time, he would replay all the insults his father’s lover and his bastard brother had dealt in due time. 
You’ll regret having thrown us away. For throwing me away.

If he even felt anymore he would have wept, but he was too old for such things.Red slashed like a ribbon against his vision. Momentarily he was spellbound by the color of the setting sun. The way blue mixed with the red so perfectly. A streak of white flashed across his vision startling, realizing it was only Androlcus waving a hand in front of his face. “Alex!” Startled, he sat up, blinking back into focus. “Sorry what?” Eursakyes smacked him on the head, “ Pay attention. There is to be a raid. South of here. Near Troy.” Near here? Troy? Neither of his parents had said a word. Alex rubbed the spot, “And? You know that I’ll never be allowed to go.” His cousin grinned at him, “Your father is leading it so of course. You may go.” “My mother would never allow it.” Even that sounded weak to his ears. All his friends scoffed even Androcles who rather liked his mother. “He will have no choice. He is going as well, your father will bring him as he is his most trusted blood-bound companion, his therapon.” Eursakyes explained patiently. Right, he had forgotten that before his parents were lovers, they were bound by oath. Alex bit at his lip, “I’ll speak with them.” That was all he could do, his father watched him like a hawk after the incident with the goddess. While Papa still had no idea, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter his forgiveness and trust. Trust and forgiveness that his mother had willingly given him even though he had not deserved it. Not after what he had pulled with the swords and lying. Gods, he did not deserve his kind, Papa.  Damocles was on him like a shark that smelled blood, “Of course because you are a baby that needs their protection instead of relying on yourself. Not all are lucky to call Aristos Achaion father and his therapon, mother. ” “I’m not a coward,” Alex hissed jumping up.Blue eyes met his, nasty glint in them, “Then prove it.”“I will.” With that he left them, they were being real jerks. His first-ever raid, and he was ready for it. All the other boys were.  His feet didn’t even have a chance to reach the ground before he was flying again. Rage fueling him, Alex made it home. The door flew open, his son but a whirlwind following it.The door to his room slammed.
Thunk
 Patroclus blinked before rising to see what was the matter.Knocking softly on his son’s door, “Alex?” “Papa?” a muffled voice called back. “May I come in, my love?” His child was upset. “Please.”  Sitting at the edge of the bed, examined his son who was red-faced. Someone had made him angry, for his face to be so red. His Achilles was the same.  Raking his fingers through his curls, “Tell me who had made you angry.” Alex looked away from him, before meeting his eyes again. “No one.”Patroclus soothed, “Alright, then no one made you angry. But why are you home? Aren’t you supposed to be with your friends?” Flushed cheeks turned even redder, and he pouted, “I was tired so I left.” A fight then. “Ah, I see. Then take a good rest, my son. Your father will be home soon and I have to go to the medical tent in a few.”  Alex hid a shudder. While he loved to be useful to his mother and helping others, seeing the aftermath of war was never easy. Papa had brought him since he was young to drill the importance that war was not a game. His stupid friends didn’t understand. How could they when they haven’t seen a man bleed to his death in your arms. Even his father did not understand, preferring to have mother at his side or home safe and unbothered. Both of them. Yet he too was destined for great things. Wanted to be destined for great things.Papa sighed, kissing his temple, "Forgive them, my son.”Alex rolled back into his pillow, sulking. “No.”  “Holding grudges really does nothing for you. For they only hurt you in the end. Forgive them not for them but you.” With that said his mother closed the door.  His mother was right as always but he felt wronged. Why should he forgive those who had teased him first? He wasn’t going to speak to them for the rest of the year. Stupid jerks._______________________________“Father?” Alex called out.Achilles hummed, “Yes?” Quiet shuffling at his back with a tentative hand reaching out. Yet his question wasn’t shy in the least. “Am I going too?” He didn’t even have to ask what his son meant. Achilles already knew. “Only if you wish to.” Achilles soothed patted his hand, “ it isn’t expected of you. You can stay home if you would like, it is to just be a raid nothing more and nothing less.” “Is Papa staying at home?” If his father was staying home then his friends were wrong. “If he wishes,” Achilles said, evading his searching gaze. Patroclus had already decided it, they both had. Alexander wasn’t going anywhere near the raid. It didn’t matter if it was a small raid, there was too much that could go wrong.  Alex huffed, “Of course, I’m going. You and Papa are going so I’m too.”  “Oh?” Achilles said, all the while biting the inside of his cheek.  “Yes of course.”  “Hm, I think you’re still too young.” “The other boys are going.” “And?” His father said dully.  “That means I can go!”  “No, it doesn’t.” “Yes, it does!” Alex shouted. “Stop shouting because you aren’t going!” Achilles exploded. Shock flashed across emerald eyes before fury replaced them. “I am because I’m not a coward. They will never let me live this down and then they’ll-” “They’ll what, Alex?” Achilles asked patiently because blowing up again will only make his son shut down. “They will say that I’m not worthy of being your son. That I’m a coward.” Wetness had built up in his child’s eyes. Dear Gods, who had ever placed such hateful thoughts in his child’s head would not live to see tomorrow.  Achilles gathered him into his arms, “Who said such a thing, tell me?” So I can rip their heads from their bodies. “Nobody.” No, it had to be someone because otherwise, his child would not behave as such. Were those wicked children and their bothersome mothers at it again. Because he had warned them. “Don’t listen to them because it isn’t true. You are my son and nothing can ever change that and..” Alex glanced up, “But I want you to be proud to call me, your son. I want to be worthy.” “Alex, my Alex you have always and will always be my son. I love you, and I have loved you from the moment you came to be. Nothing will ever change that.” “What if I shame you?” “You won’t because I’m already so proud of you.” Achilles soothed.  “But..” Alex started again, Achilles held him closer. His son, oh his sweet son. Heads were going to roll for this.  “I’m and I’ll say it a million times over. As many times as you need to hear it. I love you and I’m proud of you. Always.” “But I want to be proud of myself too.” “Oh, Alex.” “War will not bring what you seek.” War made monsters.  Achilles was worlds apart from the boy on Pthtia who juggled figs and ran wild. This was not what he wanted for his son, never. “But it will make me great, like you father.” Achilles chuckled kissing his golden curls, “War has yet to make me great. I’m great because I became your father, you are my proudest achievement. My son.” “Really?” Alex looked at him shyly. That shine was back in eyes similar to his, the innocence that rested in them. The innocence he and Patroclus wanted to protect for as long as possible. “Yes, surely you know that you are the very center of our lives. You made us complete. We love you, Alex. There is nothing you have to prove to receive what is freely given.”  “I love you, Father.” “I love you, too.”Achilles clung to his child, praying that every fiber of his love was felt. Gods his son was growing too quickly. Where had that little chubby babe gone?__________________________________________Exhaustion ate at him like no other, but there was still so much to do. Soldiers were coming in waves, wave after wave. Injuries range from minor to severe. A startling trend he noticed was there appeared to be another outbreak of biting flies and lice. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. His tunic had long come to rest against his waist as the feeling of crusted blood had grown too much to bear. Well, on the bright side at least there had been no amputations tonight. However, too many patients had hemorrhaged on the table. Body after body, it was all starting to…  “Patroclus,” a shout of his name had him turning his head. “I’ll relieve you, it’s almost dawn,”  Poldarius called to him. He glanced down at gore-coated hands and nodded. Much too tired to even argue with him, anyone for that matter. As he was leaving a boy passed him, curiously he stopped a moment. Before shaking his head, this was none of his business. Yet something was drawing him to speak with that boy. But why?The boy backtracked until he stood in front of him, hand outstretched. Dazed Patroclus took it, however before he could even ask the boy was gone.  Patroclus had made it halfway home when he realized the boy had given him a small flower. Now that he thought about it, why did that child look so familiar? Ah.  Alex would like it very much. His first gift from a patient. His poor child had been in such a foul mood today. ________________________________Achilles glanced up seeing his lover coming into bed. Alexander had fallen asleep against his chest. Honestly, there was no place he would rather his child be. Safe here next to him. The cloying richness of blood teased his nose, even if his lover had bathed. The scent always fucking lingered over them both. Ah, and soon it would be even heavier. A raid had been decided by the council. It wasn’t mandatory, just something to raise the men's’ spirit. Yet it was a big deal for the both of them, as this year Alex would be old enough to participate. His husband placed something next to the bed pulling furs around him. “What’s that?” Patroclus hmmed, “A flower.”  “From who?”  Patroclus snorted softly, “It isn’t for me.” “Oh, then is it for me~.”   “Nope, it isn’t yours either.” If it wasn’t his or Patroclus then…. Then it dawned on him No No way. Alex and the boy with blue eyes.  His son would be overjoyed that his crush was alive. At least for now if anything Patroclus’ visions had gruesome ways of coming true. They both did.  “Achilles, what the matter?” “Nothing, I’m just tired.” Alex was truly growing too quickly for him. Patroclus was tired too, so he let it go for now. Obviously, Achilles knew more than what willing to say.___________________________________________________________________His breathing came in pants, the Sun was bearing down on him making it harder to breathe. Patroclus’ heavy armor wasn’t helping in the least. Tight across his chest forcing him to take shallower breaths. “Patroclus.” Achilles called to him, concern in every word. “I’m fine,” he panted out, “just thirsty-.” A waterskin flew in his direction as soon as the words passed his lips.He downed it gratefully watching Achilles jump on the railing. Surveying the land before them, another town that would fall to their army. More women and children to be displaced from their homes. How he had wished he had stayed back but after the dagger incident. Achilles needed to be kept in line. Sparing one boy was one thing, sparing a village was another. The plan was to take as few casualties as possible. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him but the ones around him. Outside influences, as the Gods were growing desperate. Their amusement was being ruined and that would not do in the grand scale of things.  “Fine day for sailing,” Odysseus remarked from his ship. Patroclus felt his eyes rolling of their own accord.  “A better day for raiding,” Diomedes chimed in. Sigh. Gods he hated that sometimes Achilles was right, even after their falling out Diomedes had rejoined the kings’ inner circle. Menelaus gave him longing looks but that was the extent of their relationship. Their twin boys saw him when they wanted not when it pleased him. Fucking Gods it was boiling out here. Patroclus drained more water from his waterskin. Horns sounded and boats hit the shore. Another town that would fall to ruin. Placing that aside, let the brackish water lap at his thighs. Slit working its way into his sandals. “For the Greeks!”  rallying cries echoed around him,  “For Helen!” There was no benefit to this raid other than greed and lord over Troy. None at all.____________________________________________________________________________Alex let his feet dangle in the water watching the waves. His parents' ship had long departed with the others but he was waiting. Waiting for them to come home. Part of him had wished to go but he felt better knowing that his friends were not going either. The look on Damocles’ face after his mother had told him to stay home because “he was a snot nose greenhorn” never ceased to make him smile. Ha served him right for calling him a coward.  Next year he would be able to go, when he turned thirteen. Idly he wondered if the war would end before he reached that age, however didn't dwell on it because there would be other wars. No reason to have parents to worry, the heartbreak on his father’s face was just as bad as his mother’s. In every sense of the word, he was his parents’ joy. For now, he would enjoy what was left of his childhood and grow strong. Because one day he was going to defend his family. Whether they liked it or not.________________________________________________________Andromache raced through the halls with a mission. Half possessed by vengeance, the other despair. Those crusty old fucks were content to let people die so long as they could keep themselves safe. Dare she say that none of them would go to the battlefield oh no much rather speaking nonsense. Their capital was filled to brim with refugees fleeing the Greeks’ tyranny. More lives were to be lost and ruined to satisfy those barbarians’ ever-growing lusts.  Pushing the doors open found her husband, profile outlined by the Sun. Her rage would not lessen. Him just standing there enraged her even more. “Send them, don’t leave our people to suffer. You know what that monster has done to my people.” she raged.  Chest heaving, the taste of metal built up behind her lips, “Never forget that.” “I haven’t,” he took her hands gently placing a kiss at them, “please believe me. I haven't forgotten what he has done to our people, to your family. I can't, after all, we have lost.” Years later grief was still a fresh wound for the both of them. Her brother threw himself into training in the hopes of avenging their family. Day in and day out, he lived for nothing short of revenge. Andromache too would wait for the day, blood would flow from Aristos Achaion . However, looking at her husband’s calm face. Was losing him worth her revenge? From the moment blood was dawn her husband was as good as dead.  “Hector, please. Our people need help. They can not hope to find respite for the terror that has been unleashed upon them.” Ten years and countless cities and villages had fallen.  “I will do what I can my love but,” he stopped squeezing her, “ there is little I can do if my hands are tied.” She freed herself from his embrace.  “They will listen to you. They must you are the future king,” she reasoned. Her Hector sighed, “I am favored to be considered but my love, I have 47 other brothers in which I must compete with.” “All know you are the most suited.” He shook his head, “They wished for another. I reminded them too much of father.” “Your father is great. You too will be a just king.” He reached for her hands. “Andy, my love. They have begun debating sending her back again.” She met his eyes, “And will you let them.” It wasn’t a question but a fact. There was nothing that Hector loved more than his homeland. How he would die for it. He sighed, “If it comes to that.” “HA-,” she could help but laugh, “The greed in their eyes will not be satisfied with just one woman. A few chests of gold will not appease them. It is not until Troy burns and women are raped in the streets will these monsters be satisfied, Hector!”  “You know that this war was a long time coming. They have watched us grow rich for years from trade and with Helen’s kidnapping it gave them the perfect excuse to destroy us.” Hector led her to sit on the chaise, “What can I do Andy? Day in and day out I watch people die for my brother’s folly. Folly I enabled, what more can I do? I-” He growled in frustration. “I do what I can but this is beyond even me. Troy will fall regardless of what I want or do, but Gods, Andy I do not wish for it to fall.” She froze, prophecy. He quoted to her prophecy as if she did not understand the meaning. As soon as he died Troy was to fall. Aristos Achaion was to slaughter him in his perverse bid to glory. Why no one save the Gods knew why. They had never crossed paths let alone have animosity… Hector had done nothing to him. Yet Achilles had done so much harm to them. Her family, she had even... No that was thought she would not dwell on. “I will do as you have said, my love. To defend out people” “Hector..” He cupped her face, “Andy-.” “Your Highness,” a messenger burst in just as their foreheads rested against each other.The man quickly scurried to her husband’s ear. Andromache watched with dread filling her stomach. They were too late.  Her husband jumped from his seat to follow the messenger but she tugged him back down.“It’s too late. There is nothing to be done,” she said stiffly. His hazel eyes showed conflict before becoming neutral again. Her Hector such burdens rested upon him.  “There is always something that can be done.” He stood again. She bowed her head, already guessing what he would say. “I will be in the temple. Praying for the Gods’ guidance and wisdom.” Andromache hid a scoff but nodded anyway. What was the use, the Gods were deaf to their prayers. Otherwise, they would have answered long ago. Yet they all had found their own ways to cope with the war. Helen had her tapestry, Hector had his prayers, her brother his training. What did she have but her rage and hollowing grief?  _______________________________________Another victory for the Greeks, yet Achilles took no joy in it. It was a hollow victory watching women and children with haunted eyes as they were separated from their fathers, husbands, and sons. All of which were going to be killed. Patroclus wished to intervene when the temple had been raided but he held him back. It had long been burned by Agamemnon and Menelaus’ men who had taken what they wished. Survivors of it were long taken and… This had been no battle just pure intimidation tactics, those soldiers had been little more than frail men and boys. Boys his sons’ ages.  Patroclus took it all in stride, calmly patching up soldiers and some of the women and children that had been taken prisoner. Achilles had claimed them all, not one of those girls was going to be in any more danger.  Thank the Gods’ Alexander had not come, he hated to even imagine his face when he realized his father was a monster.  Watching the island fade as they departed, Patroclus wrapped his arms around his lover’s middle. Pressing his nose against his nape. “Give me all of your worries, all of your sins,” he muttered against damp skin. Achilles said nothing staring at the setting sun.  “I have too many for you to absolve me of.” “That doesn’t matter,” he said softly, “I promised to forgive you always.”  Achilles spun him until he faced him, until he was against his chest. The fabric of the tunic rubbed against his face, he leaned back letting Achilles cage him against the railing.Lightly Patroclus let his fingers stroke at his face. Achilles nuzzled against them like a cat.  “Then forgive me. Please.” Achilles said, placing a tender kiss at his lips. Gradually that chaste kiss grew more aggressive. His knee slotted in between his and hands were wandering further and further up Patroclus’ tunic. Gods he was warm and felt so soft. Patroclus drew him as close as the railing would allow, fingers curling into his nape.  Achilles let himself suck marks against that gorgeous neck. His lover gasped at each one but he couldn't deny the rush of those sounds. Patroclus was all but wrapped around his waist, heat was building between them… Until Patroclus broke from him panting out, “Not here, Achilles...Uhm...” Reluctantly he let him go, waiting for the string of saliva connecting them to break. Gods having Patroclus practically wrapped around him with those sinful thighs.  “Later then,” he whispered, enjoying the way he shivered.  Spring had not just brought the raids and the biting flies back but festivals. Their holy days of allotment for worshipping their Gods. The air buzzed with excitement as the festivities were beginning to be planned. This year their son was participating in the long-distance race. “Papa watch!” His son shouted across the beach, sand flying as he went... He could only grin at his child.  “I’m watching,” he shouted back. Alexander grinned at him before he was off again. His son had been practicing for weeks to participate in the race with his friends, even if could not go on raids. He was surely allowed this.  His Alex had a high chance of becoming the victor of the race. Like his father, few were his equal when it came to swift feet.  “ Mama,” the tiny babe in his memory called. Where had the time gone, just the other day Patroclus had watched him learn to walk on chubby legs, and now he was kicking up sand wherever he went. Achilles and their Myrmidons were due to return at sunset, yet Patroclus rather wait here a moment. Enjoying the peace, Achilles always knew where to find him.___________________At sunset, Achilles found Patroclus staring out at the wave, settling next to him. They both soaked up the comfort the other brought watching as their child ran. The roar of waves had him drowsily leaning against his Patroclus who was threading through his hair. "Are you happy, my Achilles?" Patroclus asked him, soothingly stroking through his curls. Achilles sleepily grinned up at him. " More than I can even voice, " he said sitting up. "So, much that I fear I'll burst from happiness." Patroclus laughed at that, but it was true. Everything was perfect. The war was soon ending and their son was well on his way to manhood.  "You have made me so happy, my beloved. So happy. I think we will fulfill our childhood promise." Taking his hand pressed a kiss to his palm. "We will finally go home." Patroclus sighed, but it was one of contentment, not wearinesses.  "Yes, my Achilles. We will and the Gods be willing perhaps…" he bit his lip. "Nevermind that now."  Achilles threaded his fingers through his. "What is it?" Patroclus' cheeks turned rosy in an instance. How he would never grow tired of the sight. "Tell me please?" Achilles implored. Patroclus sighed once more, but shyly his eyes met his. " Alex could have a sibling?" The way he phrased was as if he expected to be scolded. Never, he would grant him whatever he desired, but a child gave him some pause. Pregnancy was always so hard on his body. Gods, their first had nearly killed him though who's to say that hadn't all been his mother's doing. " Is it safe for you?" Patroclus squeezed his hand. " It will be, but I was only thinking. Not now, but much later." Achilles grinned, " I think another child would be lovely." Patroclus gave him a dubious look. " I thought you disliked children?" While he had been lucky Alex was so adored, he did wonder sometimes. Achilles looked at him as if he had grown a second head.  When had he ever said such a thing- he had to think for a moment. Oh, Gods. "No, I adore them, it's just at the time. I was out of my mind with jealousy at the thought of you having a child with some random woman. I said some nasty things. Horrible things. I apologize." Patroclus hummed, debated telling him he had found out he was pregnant around that time. No, there was no need. That was in the past and they had a future together now. No matter how such a thought hurt him."I'm sorry my love, I never meant to hurt you…," suddenly a  thought worked its way into Achilles’ mind. "Oh, Gods. You were expecting around the time I said that. Was that the reason why you never said anything?"  It all made sense. Why did he hide and choose to bleed out instead of calling for him? Patroclus frowned, "I hadn't been sure. I only wanted to know in case. That if I was," he said, taking a breath, "you wouldn't hate me… I lived in fear that you would discover and that you would hate me shun me." "I broke your heart that day, I'm so sorry my love. I could have spared you so much pain had I not been possessive," he muttered. He had been such a child, lashing out at the thought of Patroclus being with another. When clearly he had wronged him. Gods he had been carrying his child and he had been so jealous of imagined wives. Achilles couldn't face him. "Achilles, look at me," Patroclus titled his face towards him," I was going to show you, I had gotten this silly notion in my head that you would be less likely to be upset with me if I was showing." "You thought I would have harmed you if you weren’t." His heart sank, everything Ganymede had said. Patroclus had been terrified of him and his reaction. Thinking of him like his father.  Patroclus bit his lip helplessly reaching for him, "No, of course not I don't know what I was thinking. Achilles, I was so young and afraid. I was only thinking about how you would discard me. Cast me aside. Hate me. Then…" They had never fully discussed what happened to their first child, only the grief. Grief of what could have been.  " I miscarried. Everything hurt, I was so ashamed. I wanted to…" he drew a breath, " I couldn't bear it, it was horrible Achilles. Something I can never forget." Never for the rest of his life, he would always carry that grief. All those days when it seemed that Patroclus had hated him when instead had been grieving and hurting. Hurting from the pain and the loss. Gods, he had been such a brat. Hating that Patroclus' attention hadn't been on him. Stupid. His beloved could have died if the blood trails in the woods had been anything to go by.  "Patroclus, Gods words can not even begin to say how..." "Stop, it wasn't either of our faults. Please Achilles I don't wish to speak about this. It only makes me sad. I want to think of joyful things. Please." Happier things such as the child they did have. Achilles took in his hands, "Of course I'm sorry-"  Patroclus placed a finger at his lips, " No, more apologies. It's a beautiful day." " There will be days to grieve but that day isn't today." Achilles kissed his knuckles. "You'll tell me when you're ready. Won't you? "  Patroclus' smile was such a soft and fragile thing, " I promise." That was enough for him. His beloved Patroclus would never know pain or grief again, he swore it on the river Styx. Achilles decided not to participate in the foot race. Everyone knew he was the fastest among them, no man could beat him. Now, he was wondering if he should have. Patroclus was presenting a laurel to the victor. He envied the champion of the race, whomever it would be. The race wasn't beginning until the afternoon and he had yet to see Alex running around before burying himself into Patroclus’ arms. Spoiled as ever. “Where is Alex?” he asked in mild concern. “He is with Ajax and his son, last I saw him.” Alex had a spat with Diomedes’ twins and thus they had been banished for now. Patroclus doubted they would be for much longer. “You know they're both horrible influences, right.” “I know, but he'll be fine. Alex knows his limits.”  Achilles still looked concerned. “Automedon is with them,” he stated finally, rolling his eyes.  “Should have just said that first.” Patroclus snorted, before laughing. “He is fine, my love. Don’t worry so, hmm,” pressing himself against his chest.  Achilles chuckled a little before capturing his lips, if their son was here he would surely protest him kissing his mother.  Yet how could he resist such perfection before him?-------------------------------------------------------------Theo thought it was curious that their prince hadn’t joined in on the races and tournaments. His friend snorted, “ He needs no more glory, he is content with…,” discreetly he pointed where Achilles and Patroclus were under the tent. Their prince bent closer to his consort to catch his lips in a kiss. Even after all these years, they were faithful to each other. Yet, no new prince or princess had come from their unions. Many bets had been placed and none had been determined the winner. “He is seduced by his consort’s golden cunt,” a newcomer injected one of Menelaus’ men. Instantly the atmosphere grew cold. Light-hearted teasing was one thing, but to so blatantly speak of their prince’s consort with such disrespect. Theo brought his hand to stop his companion from hitting their guest. It would not reflect well on their princes.   The newcomer continued to make rude remarks, louder this time. Things that weren’t true. Patroclus was highly admired by all, not just because he was Achilles’ consort. But by his own merits from healing the injured or sick to delivering a baby. He was well-loved. Only those of a bolder tongue still dared to speak of him as such. Even if he had bore their prince a son, he was no weakling. All of the Myrmidons remembered the day twenty men had been laid at their golden prince’s feet by his pregnant consort no less. To this day, enemies were displaced if they dared to strike at his lover. Patroclus was nearly as deadly as their prince. Green eyes glanced their way and Theo made his escape. Their prince would never let such a man live for his tongue, few had dared to speak such crass words. Agamemnon too had paid dearly at insulting Patroclus. Theo said a prayer for him and hoped that someone would put gold on his eyes. Achilles had a short temper when it came to his heart. __________________________________Alex made his way over to his mother, seeking his luck. Hoping that his nerves would settle. Running was in his blood but Gods he prayed for favor to, “ Be the victor .” That he would not disgrace his family, but bring them honor. To have his mother present him with the laurel of the victor. “Alex,” Papa greeted offering him a seat. He shook his head if he sat how would he get up with shaking legs. His mother raised a hand and brushed it through his hair.  “Don’t be nervous. I know you will do well.” Alex blew out a breath. “You’re right…” he faltered, “but I’m worried, what if I trip and fall…” Papa laughed softly. “Alex for all the mischief you cause, never once have I seen you stumble or fall. You’ll do well. I’ll be waiting to present you with the laurel.” With that, this mother pressed a kiss to his forehead, and already his worries felt like things of the past. Steeled by his mother’s favor, he went to where his friends waited. Androcles and Damocles both gave him small smiles, Alex resisted the urge to huff. He supposed he could forgive them just this once after all it was mainly Damocles' fault. Even if he forgave them he was going to win. Papa had ensured him of it. Blaring horns startled him but a moment before his body acted of its own accord. Dirt barely touched his sandals and the other fell into a blur. They were literally tasting the dust his feet kicked up. Alex didn’t let himself slow but exhaled as his feet touched the ground, savoring the way everything felt in tune. It was as if he was flying, and he was because few could reach him. Icarus had tried to reach for the Sun but Alex wanted to do so on the ground. Ambitions were well and good, but what he had come to realize was there was a point that you had to stop. Overreaching was never in your benefit, Icarus learned that lesson with his life. He had tried once to be more than what was destined for him, had even made a deal with Gods. Not realizing the harm that would come from it. Thankful his parents had pulled him back from the edge, or else he would have become obsessed. Sadly, his father had none of the awareness to see that what he was doing was hurting his mother, but in time he hoped for better. Greatness came at a cost, everyone you love for it. He didn’t want that anymore. All he wanted was to grow up well and show piety to his parents. He would be a great son, but an average man.  At the last lap, the horn sounded once more.Patroclus hid a smile at the blushing young man before him, placed it in his hands.Achilles huffed at his side irritated. How dare this little upstart even dare to...Alex made it to the platform where his mother stood presenting laurels to the victories of other races. There was a dark-haired boy before him then finally it was his turn. He knelt and bowed his head. A soft weight was placed upon his head. “May Zeus look upon you with his favor,” the voice intoned. Alex had yet to look up but when he did stumble. It was him, he was still… alive. Alex starred longer than was appropriate before his mother politely coughed reminding him of the place. Quickly he stepped down from the platform, looking for the boy who had disappeared once more.  Alex sighed in frustration, had he truly seen him, or had he been a phantom. Ghosts didn’t give the living white flowers, did they?_______________________________________________“Congratulations my son,” Papa told him, pride reflected in his eyes. His father was much more informal, pulling him into a bearhug.  “Father, I can’t breathe,” he whined. A moment later his father quickly let him go ruffling his hair.  “You know I met your mother at a race, like this in our youth. I ran because that was what my father expected for me but I did it partly to have your mother present a laurel to me.” his father sighed dramatically, “however your mother was much shyer back then. I had to settle for his father, the king.” Alex absorbed this new information, he thought they had met at Pithia when his mother had glared at this “bratty” father. And his father not used to such treatment had been intrigued. Then they had fallen for each other, and married then had him. Predictably his mother rolled his eyes, “I did not know you back then and you were so…” “Golden and handsome,” his father injected, framing his face. Again mother rolled his eyes, “Arrogant and spoiled.” His father grabbed his chest pretending to be wounded. “You wound me, my love.” His mother didn’t roll his eyes this time instead kissing his cheek. “ There I have healed you.” His mother teased. Alex wrinkled his nose, really in public? By the Gods his parents were embarrassing. And he was making his escape, glancing across the room spotted honey cakes, still streaming. Today really was the best day. He must have eaten through half the platter before his mother got his claws into him. Licking his thumb and wiping said saliva over his face. This was so embarrassing, his mother wiping at him as if he was a messy child. He was twelve now, nearly a man. And he told him as much. "Ack, papa stop," Alex whined as he wiped at his face with a wet thumb. Patroclus snorted, as if he let him run around with crumbs on his face, "There be free," he said and he was off.  Watching him run off the green laurel nestled in blond hair. They were so similar, it was frightening at times.  Oh, my. They were perhaps more alike than he realized, Alex was stuttering and red almost as his crush. Patroclus snickered a little, Achilles must have thought he hadn't noticed. That his cheeks only reddened when he was around him and that his tongue twisted on itself. "What's so funny?," a voice asked, twisting up to see his lover. Achilles kissed his neck in greeting. He gestured to their son. "Our son has his first crush and he is just as awkward as his father." Patroclus scooted over to give him room to sit.  "I wasn't awkward-," he stuttered, "I was so in love with you, I could barely think." Patroclus laughed his pretty laugh. Gods, he loves him. "Aristo Archaion afraid of me," he snickered again. "Because you were so lovely, you never noticed how I tried to gain your attention." Patroclus hummed, "I noticed, but you never noticed how I longed for you to see how silly we're being and kiss me." Achilles grinned, "Perhaps."  Patroclus rolled his eyes. "My crush on you was terrible, all I imagined was being yours and giving you pretty babes. Never mind that I didn't have a clue how to have a child," he admitted. His grin spread further, "Really?" " It was my first thought when I first started bleeding," he admitted a little bashfully.  "And you have given me such a handsome son," Achilles said, finger tilting his chin up to kiss him.__________________________Alex glanced at his fathers, face hot. So embarrassing. Androcles followed his line of sight. "They seem happy," he commented. Dear Gods would they ever stop being so lovey-dovey in public. It was times like these where he wished for Papa’s bronzed complexion, his blushes would be less visible. "They're extremely happy with each other." Alex retorted sarcastically. Too happy, more than once he had nearly walked in on several intimate moments between them. Ugh, gross.  It seemed that his luck had run out.As the night went on and the alcohol flowed more freely, even the more straight-laced among them had let their guard down.  Alex had been shuffled off to bed by his lover, but he had seen him sneak back to be with his friends. As for Patroclus, he watched him from the rim of his cup. His face alight with joy as he danced in the light of the fire. Gods, he was gorgeous. Patroclus sent him a quick and flirty smile before he was swept back into the madness of writhing arms and legs. Draining the dregs of his cup went to join him. Maybe they could dance alone in different ways._________________________________Bodies moved in a sensual trance, rocking in tandem trying to get as much friction as possible.  Achilles let his teeth nip and tease at Patroclus’ pulse. His hands weaved themselves through his hair, tugging. Fast and rough. Achilles stopped the assault on his neck to taste the wine still on his lips. His lover tugged on his lip before drawing back. Unconsciously, he tongued the skin finding it spilt. Patroclus grinned at him, a droplet of crimson against his already vivid lips.  Vicious. Dark eyes teased drawing away from him, going him further and further into the forest. Licking away the rest, the chase was on.   Caged him against the tree, sensuously dark eyes met his. “You caught me.” his voice slightly breathless. “Always,” Achilles whispered against his ear. “Yet you always run away. As if you want me to catch you.” Rubbing him against Patroclus relished the way he shivered.  “I always want to be caught by you.” Just for that, he sunk his teeth into his prey, reveling in the sweet cry that burst from those lips. “Then let me have you,” Achilles breathed, sucking at the mark. ___________________________________________When the heat of passion began to cool, Patroclus had a startling realization. It had been so long since they frolicked around like teenagers, making love under the stars.  “I miss our youth,” he admitted tiredly.  “Why?” Achilles panted at his back. “We are no longer young.” Achilles thought about it for a fraction before shrugging, “I suppose not.”  Nuzzling against his neck, Achilles breathed, “It does not matter. You are still as beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on you.”  Patroclus sighing leaning back against his broad chest.  
Was he though? Gods know he had never been a beauty, but to Achilles that had never mattered. 
 As if he had heard his thought Achilles further tightened his arms around his stomach. Which made him think. He wasn’t young anymore, yet still hoped for another child. A daughter whom he could spoil and shelter from war. At twenty-six was it such a far-fetched dream?  Craning his neck upwards, aligned his lips with his. Achilles kissed him as if he was half-starved.  “And you’ve only grown more destatively handsome,” he stated breathlessly.  “Have I?” Achilles murmured against his lips, “tell me how.” Calloused fingers ran up his thighs, running dangerously close. Patroclus jolted when they suddenly wrapped around him. Ah~ “Pleas-.” He bit at his lips, to keep a broken moan from passing his lips.  Everything was completely sensitive, Achilles had-was still playing with him like a lyre. Getting him to harmonize with a song only he knew the tune to.  His Achilles had grown so handsome. Tall, his shoulders had broadened once more, arms filled with strength. Even his face had sharpened once more, giving him a deadly yet beautiful air.   “Don’t be vain,” he whispered, trying not to lose his mind. By the Gods...  “You can’t say such things without finishing them. Tell me.” Slowly he was building up pace. “I can’t name just-ah,” Achilles was playing dirty, there was no-, “one thing.” “Name it then,” Achilles was toying with him again.  “Taller,” he choked out. “What else?” He was so irritatingly calm while he was falling apart. “Broader.” Resting his head against his chest hoped with this he would be satisfied.  “Is that it?” Ah, this was his lover, he was talking about one whom was never satisfied. Lifting his hips hoped to convey his need for him to stop playing around and fuck him again. Achilles gripped him tightly, slamming him back against his chest. He choked a little. “Naughty,” he hissed, savagely making his displeasure known against this neck, “ You’ll move when I allow it.” “You’re much more greedy.” Patroclus drawled out. He chuckled, “I can’t help my nature when it comes to you.” Flipping him into his hands and knees. Slid out before coming back to the hilt. Obscenely loud was the sound of skin meeting. Achilles kept his pace fucking him fast and rough. There was barely any time to catch his breath before he was drawn back against him.______________________________________________________They tumbled and played with each others’ bodies until red began bleeding into the horizon. Achilles lazily sucked at another mark that was already turning dark against Patroclus’ coppery skin. Patroclus played him no mind, equally languished as he jerked him off.  A soft groan and a warmth coating both his hand adding to the mess on their stomachs, Patroclus nuzzled against his lover’s neck.  “Love, let me sleep,” he murmured. By the Gods, Achilles’ stamina was formidable. His lover chuckled, “Can’t, I want to but can’t get enough of you. I can never get enough of you”  He said that but Patroclus felt his fatigue in the soft and slowed breaths he exhaled.  Withdrawing from his lap, only to fall back on shaken legs. Achilles snickered softly, reaching for him, and stumbling Patroclus fell right back into his arms. “I don’t bite.” Achilles teased. “Liar, I can feel the way you made a meal out of me.” Achilles shrugged innocently, “ I had a taste,” wrapping an arm around his waist, leaned close “although I remember you begging me to.” Patroclus just rolled his eyes, fixing his clothing back around him. Sucking his teeth when he realized Achilles had ripped the bottom, so it would hide none of the marks up his thighs. How had he ever done so?Achilles and Patroclus both looked debauched when they finally emerged from the woods. Patroclus’ tunic was slipping off one shoulder and ripped a bit at the bottom, his hair was a mess that would never be tamed. His lips were swollen and bitemarks of every size covered him from neck to chest to legs? Good Gods. He seemed to be aware of it from the way he nearly hid behind his lover. Achilles had several twigs and leaves in his hair, fading marks around his neck and shoulders. Unlike his lover, his stance was not shamed, but cocky. The arm around Patroclus’ waist was both in support and possession. _________________Automedon was very sure that after this an announcement about their newest prince would come. If he was right a very large pot had his name on it. Finally, after ten long years, there would be a victory.__________________Settled against Achilles’ chest, he was more than content to let Achilles wash him. He had made a complete mess of him so this was his responsibility. Soothing hands lathering him up, warm lips pressing against his neck. Feeling a yawn come on rested his head further against Achilles’ broad chest, “Hurry, I’m sleepy.”Achilles chuckled but did as he asked, they both slipped out of the tub feeling cleaner but more sleepy.__________________________________Toweling at his hair Patroclus peeked into Alex’s room finding him fast asleep. A half-eaten platter of what was honey cakes on the bedside, quietly he picked it up. He shook his head fondly, his baby had always loved them. Tucking the covers further around him, prayed his dreams would be pleasant. Achilles sighed softly into the pillow, light was beginning to stream into their room. Patroclus flopped next to him, arms reaching to wrap him up when he pulled back.  “Sleep, Achilles.” he sighed. Currently, all of his aches were beginning to make themselves known. Tomorrow he would have a motley of hand and teeth-shaped bruises. Achilles, the lucky bastard would have nar one of the marks he had left on him. That was alright he could always make more. By the Gods, he forgot just how monstrous his appetite was.  “I’m, promise,” he muttered against their pillow.  Achilles wasn’t sure how much sleep he would get with Agamemnon expecting him to be ready later today. They had been given holy days for a reason, those reasons were rest. Everyone would be way too hungover to even hold a sword. He had his reasons for wanting to play hooky, laying in bed with Patroclus for a whole day sounded nothing short of perfection. He hummed slightly against his lover who was already in dreamland. Slowly Achilles let sleep take him too.___________________________________Achilles felt as if he had just closed his eyes before being shaken awake.“My love you are going to be late,” Patroclus told him, shaking him. Sleep made everything so fuzzy yet his dream had been the vivid replay of last night.  
The gold caught in Patroclus’ hair, winking each time he shifted. How the stars themselves appeared to have been trapped into his smooth dark skin. The same stars he had promised to pluck out the sky for his love, each and every one of them would mark his skin as tribute. 
 Slowly he drifted back into sleep. Again he was shaken awake. Patroclus, his Patroclus looked just as beautiful in the sunlight. Achilles couldn’t help but cup his face, reveling in the warmth of him. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured tracing at his full bottom lip. Predictably his love flushed, always so flustered when he paid him a compliment. However, in recent years he has stopped denying it. Such a pleasing change, Achilles felt sleep pulling at him again. Patroclus shook him more firmly,” Achilles, get up. You’ll be late.” “I’m not going. Fuck Agamemnon.” he groused, wanting to bury himself back in the warmth of bed and Patroclus’ body heat.  “Your men are mobilized and waiting for your orders,” Patroclus told him patiently, tugging the covers off.  Sigh, he was going to have to get dressed. Achilles dressed slowly and mechanically. Bless his lover who snapped the last of his armor in place.  Strapping on his sword and helmet in hand, and he was ready to lay waste to yet another small village. How terribly heroic of him. Maybe if they terrorized more nobles, Troy would react more favorably. His love offered him breakfast, and Achilles took it just to appease him. While he ate, Patroclus sipped at his concoction. After their shared night of lust, it was best. This was not the time for another child, no matter how time was ticking against his body.  He stood from the table, “Patroclus, I’m off.”  Dark eyes blinked slowly, his lover was sleepy too.  “Sleep well.” Achilles said pecking him on the lips. Patroclus surprised him when he drew him back for a deeper one.   Patroclus stepped back, voice filled with teasing, “I would have had you actually let me sleep before dawn, my lord.”  Warmth ran through him, Gods did Patroclus not know the power of such words. Achilles wanted to banter with him a little longer but had to go. Toying with a strand of his dark curls that had escaped the braid, Achilles whispered, “Don’t tease, you wanted everything that I gave you. Every mark, bruise, kiss, thrust, everything you let me compose on your body. You begged for every single last one” The bastard had the audacity to peck his cheek, afterward. As if he… again he felt blush rushing to his face. Gods Achilles had had him at his complete mercy last night, he swore as he aged his greed just got worse. What was worse was that Patroclus was just as bad for indulging him even adding fuel to the fire, teasing him to do whatever he liked...  He stood there a moment longer before Alex called him.  On the table, the concoction had been forgotten.  Aphrodite grinned to herself. Finally, her blessing would come to completion.
________________________
Odysseus squinted surveying the expanse of lush forest before him, according to the maps he had gathered. This should be the best way to get into Troy. Another sister city had been taken and this was sure to get their attention as the temple had been the heart of it. It had saddened him greatly to sack and burn such a marvelous temple but Athena’s will must be done. And the raid had been bountiful, more gold filling all the men’s coffers, pretty serving girls had been taken. The kings taking their fair shares. Achilles too had taken some girls, not for saking his lusts but to serve his consort and son.  After all, Patroclus was the only one in his eyes anyway. The river flowing through here may cause some trouble with the deity guarding it. No matter, Athena had told him to patiently bid his time. Today they were only here to scout, with the Trojans hungover from yesterday’s event, would be none the wiser. This was a prime opportunity to ensure that this city stayed under their control. Biding their time, this would be the key to the battle that would take place. And finally, this nightmare of a war would end. Ten years was too long.____________________________________________________________“Alex, my love, haven't you had enough from yesterday?” he asked, watching his son vacuum up the remaining platter from yesterday. Crumbs all across his face. He tried to wipe them off but his son brushed them off himself. “One can never have too many cakes, Mother,” His son grinned at him, taking another bite out of one. Patroclus sighed, “Too many and you’ll rot your teeth.” “Hey- Icangotooutoplay-.” Waiting patiently for him to swallow the cake he nodded. “Go you naughty boy, but be back-.” Patroclus told him- “Before sunset. Yes I know, Mama.”Alex interrupted neatly shoving the rest of the cake into his mouth and the rest into a handkerchief. Kissing him on the cheek was out the door. “Be safe!,” he called to the closing door, then all was quiet. Patroclus hummed ever so lightly to himself, it was a little lonely without both of them here. Gods knew he was sleepy but-Patroclus glanced at the light pooling into the room. Would it be self-indulgent to sleep now? There was so much to do but Gods he was drained. Flopping into bed, it was alright to be a little selfish just this once.  “Oof,” he was startled when something landed against this side. Blinking up wearily found Alex’s vibrant eyes peering at him “Papa, did you sleep the whole day?”  Achilles would be home soon. No doubt just as tired as he had been. Patroclus sat up and hummed slightly, “I suppose I did.” “So I suppose you didn’t make me any food?” Alex asked, pouting slightly. Oh dear, there was still a hint of his chubby baby, who was always hungry.  He resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks with hints of stubborn baby fat  “Sorry my love, but-” Then both their stomachs growled at the same time, “I tell you what, let's get something now and I’ll cook something later. Alex tilted his head as if considering it before he nodded.___________________________________________________________________________Fucking Gods, today had been Hades pure and simple. Achilles sighed against his lover’s thighs. “I’m tired,” he muttered, pressing further and further into the warmth of them. His gorgeous plush thighs, strong yet so supple. Patroclus hadn’t slowed his careful stroking through his curls, “Then sleep, my love.” “Mmh, I suppose…soft,” he said, stroking at the soft thighs that pillowed him.  His love giggled at that, and that was the last thing he remembered before sleep took him. The sweet sound of his lover’s laugh, with it he was able to forget all the screams that haunted him. Blood that now coated his sword. Patroclus all he needed was his Patroclus.--------------------------------------Another council had been called, this time his parents had allowed him to tag along. Glancing around the room instantly realized he knew most of the faces here. These were men whom his mother had treated.  “Enough with these little skirmishes, our men are hungry for battle. True battle, we will take Troy soon..!” Alex startled for only a moment, before observing the man seated before him. Agamemnon.

A name that was often cursed in his household. Along with his brother's, Menelaus, father of his friends. He understood why both were spoken of in such a fashion. One was greedy for the riches Troy would spill from her bosom and the other...

Alex was not quite sure. Menelaus was handsome in a particular way, and could always find another to be his queen. How curious that for ten long years, he still fought for her. Anyone clear as day could see that she did not wish to be his. So what was his reason for clinging to her? It had to be more than Troy’s riches, any of Greece’s kingdoms could have filled the coffers, in the long years it had taken perhaps even doubted them. His father had even said the gold and trinkets gathered were but mere trifles to Pthtia’s. Even his mother’s diadem was not worth much compared to the one his father promised awaited them at home.   “Intertwined with it are pearls and precious stones yet it is made with the finest gold. It had been made for..nevermind it now.” Father also became so strange when he spoke of his mother.  Nevermind that now, all he had to do was sit quietly and wait for this to be over. It was so very boring here, even with mother seated at his right and father at the left. Yet both were too focused at the center of the room to pay attention to him, not that he blamed them. Odysseus was the first to present any objections to the solutions that were brought forwards, however, only his were never criticized or questioned. How peculiar. Obviously, some wished to voice them but dared not on the account of being made foolish. That and it wasn’t as if anyone else had any better ones. As far-fetched as they sounded, Alex knew that those far-fetched plans had won great victories. A city they had captured near the coast had housed a small temple. Destroying said temple and capturing the people housed there had enraged Trojan nobles.  Apparently enraged nobles were a good thing? Hm, so what they were discussing if they held this city a little longer. Troy would have to notice that they were no longer beating around the brush, but quite ready to level the playing field. Alex poked his papa in the side to get his attention. Papa leaned next to him, Alex whispered at his ear “Papa, what are they planning to do with the taken ground. Are they going to use it as a way to force into the city? The only reason it won’t work is the river deity.” Patroclus took a moment to process that even a child could find the flaw. At this point, they were willing to try anything, but the river had always been an obstruction to Troy’s gates. If only there was a way to get into Troy without being detected, but in the early years, climbing had failed. Archers had shown them all the error of their ways. Digging into the city's waterways to sneak in and attack. Those all had potential but the river god always alerted the Trojans. There was no way to get past him. The craziest was the idea to gift a giant horse as a gift filled with warriors. Achilles had called it a “cheap and cowardly trick.” He had considered it, weighing the balances but ultimately the Trojans would never fall for such an easy ploy. Then again Odysseus’ ploys often were of such a nature. “I suppose, it could work but yes, in theory, the deity is the problem. That and they could hardly get close to the city with the archers. Maybe in the beginning but now,” Patroclus shook his head, “that opinion is now closed to us.” Years of disasters and even the raids had further pushed back the land they had gained. Every inch was worth gold to them. So for now their last option was to use this land as a bargaining chip. Or the spoils of it.“Prince Achilles, come tell me what have you done with mighty Prince Hector?” Agamemnon called suddenly. The room itself held its breath, Agamenon was itching to stir up trouble today again. Achilles had been in a strange, lately. His mood was anxious, snappy even. They all felt it, external factors notwithstanding there was so much at stake. The Trojans had grown just as tired of them as they were of Troy.  Achilles balled his fists but kept his wits about him, he was no longer a hot-headed teenager.  “I have nothing to report other than the fact, he runs every time I get near him. How can I lay a scratch on him if he runs?” He shrugged, phrasing another jab back at him, “Tell me why this war still goes one because the Gods know it not me.”  Agamemnon seeing the beginning of whispering quickly turned the room to other ventures.

Oh, the red building in Agamemnon's face was worth the scathing looks  Odysseus and Menelaus threw his way. If they had time to scold him like the child then end this war. He was however afraid to see Patroclus and his son’s reactions. Patroclus had only shook his head exasperated with him, but he wasn’t angry. Alex poked his side, to get his attention, “Father why must you go after Prince Hector?” Achilles sighed softly, “I haven’t the faintest idea. The poor man had done nothing to earn my ire. I would not harm him just because they wish it.”  “I know you wouldn’t father, you’re a hero. Aristos Achaion .” Ruffling his son's hair, tried to push dark thoughts from his head. Many would call him a monster, not a hero, but Alex was the brightest and best part of his Patroclus. All of his optimism and love.__________________________________By the Gods, that had been the single most boring thing in his life. Hades, even his mother’s lessons were more informative. What had started so civilized had turned to chaos at the end and to make it worse he was hungry. Absolutely starving like he was going to die if he didn’t eat this second. And everything in the market was making it worse, skewered lamb, stew, cheese, stuffed olives, sweetened wines, bread, candy. He wanted it all. His stomach must have been growling loud enough that his mother took pity on him. He had gotten him not one but four skewered lambs. Two of which were eaten in record time, both his parents just laughed before ordering him more.  “Satisfied,” his father teased, biting into his own. “I’m a growing boy of course,” he teased back. “Boy, where? You are too tall to be a mere boy,” Achilles questioned, ruffling his hair. Alex was nearly at his chin, where his Patroclus used to be. However, in these recent years, Patroclus was near his height.  “Then I’m a man,” Alex declared, puffing out his chest. His parents shared a soft smile between them. It was their ‘ Our son is so cute and precious.’ He wasn’t precious, he was a man now, and that meant they would have to stop treating him like a baby. “Next year,” his mother said softly, “next year you will be a man, but for now. Enjoy your childhood.” Alex predictably huffed, but despite everything, they had given him a relatively happy childhood. What weighed heavily on both their minds had been the meeting. The king’s inner circle was getting bolder and bolder. Achilles and Hector were to meet that was inevitable but why now? All these years they had lived so peacefully without a hint of discord. He was even...  His lover nudged his side, intertwining their hands further. Patroolcus pushed it out of his mind, he had long decided to not think about it. He couldn’t afford to.  “Father, Papa can we...” Again he and Achilles shared a smile, they would worry later. Right now their shared goal is to spoil their baby as much as possible. While it is still possible.I ________________ “Maybe they're right.” Achilles said suddenly. He had just been drifting off. “They aren’t,” he assured. Achilles had to know that they were being led into a trap. Or maybe he just no longer cared, because Hector’s death was the first step. The first step to eternal godhood. “Tell me you would kill an innocent man to- Achilles please, do you hear yourself?”  “Troy will only fall if he falls, I’m tired of this war. I do not wish my child to dress in armor for his thirteen year. I do not want that Patroclus, even if it means I will have to sacrifice my life, I will.” He said this with an air of finality and weariness. “You have never broken a promise before, Achilles. You even said it yourself Hector is an innocent man who had done nothing to you. Please Achilles, I beg you..” Think of me, of our children.  Achilles lips’ parted, but then he closed them.  “Go to sleep, we will talk more in the morning.”  “Achilles…” His lover would hear none of it.  Sleep wouldn’t come to him, so he gave up and slipped out of bed. Patroclus...he couldn’t burden him with the dreams. Dreams where no matter what he did, always stood before Hector’s bloodied body, spear in hand. Their cries of triumph ringing in his ears.  This had always been his fate, their fate. Ajax and Diomedes had tried but he knew that only he could kill Hector. If he killed Hector, then the war would end. For it to end, blood would have to spill, Hector or his, it was all the same in the end. 
My love, I’m sorry but soon, I will have to depart from you. However, it will not be long.
____________________________________________________________________________All-day he had felt this sense of foreboding. A sense that he couldn’t shake, it was even worse as Achilles and Alex both were out of his sight. Last night he and his lover had argued about what Achilles deemed trivial. His life was not trivial. This was it, this is where he would have to concede. Achilles was firmly in the Fates’ grasp. He was obsessed, and it was driving Patroclus mad.  Visions had returned to him, strange things he dreamt of. But Achilles was always his focus, but he woke up right before he reached him. It was as if something was pulling him away from him. Achilles told him was in no danger, but he felt differently. Achilles did not seem to realize the danger he was in, and he was warning him with no result. Throwing his pen down, he was done.  He could get nothing done in this state so venturing to the meadows to find some sort of peace. Flowers were beginning to blossom as spring made Troy home. He laid there trying to regain some sense of calm, but Gods where would he gain calm after those visions. He loved him more than anything, but this was what he had chosen. And it didn't sting any less to know Achilles had chosen glory over him and their family.  Over what could have been, Patroclus never cared for fame or riches but Gods he wanted Achilles to be safe, alive.  “I would do anything for you, don’t you know,” Patroclus admitted to the flowers. Still, Achilles knew all of that, and yet here he was crying over him. “Achilles you-” he broke down right there, where he didn’t have to pretend to be strong. Pretend that everything was alright that he was losing the father of his children. And Gods, Achilles didn’t know yet. He didn’t know. “Patroclus,” Briseis called to him softly, “are you alright?” He startled before wiping at his face, “I’m alright. I was just….” Without control, his tears fell again. Briseis knew it was little of her business but when her friend was crying, she had ti to comfort him. He needed a sympathetic ear, to listen to one that would not judge him. Patroclus told her all of what was bothering him. Achilles’ newfound nonchalance with his life. His dreams, sadness.The unspeakable horror that came from the medic tent, things he could not share with Achilles. Even when he cried, he was beautiful. However, Achilles was too cruel to let him even spill one tear for him. Bastard. How was he so content to leave his lover behind for godhood. Leave him and Alex both for a slim chance that this would turn out well. All knew the Gods were temperamental in what they offered mortals, always in their favor of course. Her village had burned for a God to lord over another with a perceived victory. “Patroclus, I wish not to cause you an offense but he does not deserve one of your tears. So callous and cruel he even let you shed them. You’re too kind and... ”  Briseis had gently leaned over to kiss him, Patroclus was too shocked to even push her away.The kiss wasn’t unpleasant, her mouth tasted like wine and honey. He loved her as a friend, but Achilles would be the only one to ever hold his heart completely._________________________________________Patroclus, his Patroclus he had wronged him greatly last night. pushed aside his concern and care. Years he had spent years trying to push his destiny but he was starting to feel time pulling at him. He was still the fastest and deadliest warrior but felt sluggish and tired on the field. As if his humanity was slowly starting to bleed into him, corrupting him from the inside. So this was to be his punishment for defying their fate for him. A taste of mortality. This was strange of him to say but the feeling of rotting in your body did not appeal to him, as much as he wished he was normal like other men. Normal so that his Patroclus would not worry, but he did not deny how his mother’s blood gave him the power to protect him. Power to give him anything he wished. Sure his status as a prince gave him such privileges but being a demigod. The degree of proximity to being a God made many think twice about getting on his bad side. Perhaps it would not be so bad to give up this power for his Patroclus, grow old with him.  Hm, how should he apologize to him? After their last argument coming empty-handed. Phiniox had said his wife had always forgiven him with flowers in hand. Patroclus was going to look beautiful crowned in a wreath of spring flowers.  Red or blue, or the small white ones. Maybe even the pink ones, no matter he would look stunning in all of them.  Achilles paused on the path not believing what he was seeing. Instantly the flowers tumbled to the ground. 
They were kissing. 
 Achilles’ heart felt as if it had been ripped from his chest, bloody and raw. Gods, he didn’t know whether to cry or become furious. Patroclus was kissing her. Was he in love with her? Did she return his affection? Were they sleeping together? So many questions, with answers he never wanted to know. All he felt was agony, pure agony.  Every breath he took burned, his chest was growing tighter and tighter. Panic, he was feeling panic. Drawing a shallow breath, he backed away from the treeline.  The flowers trampled under his feet.________________________________________________________________Patroclus pulled away from her, “Briseis, you know I only love him.” Her dark eyes turned to liquid as she nodded.  “I know how much you love him, but..” she stopped herself, there was no reason to continue. It was a lost battle, a lost cause. “I’m sorry,” she finished instead standing, “I’m so sorry.” She turned and ran from him, leaving him in the grass.  
Patroclus if only you could see. After all your stories with those who love Gods end in tragedy. I can only see the same for you. You already have killed for him, how much further will you go for him. Achilles will ruin you, leave you a hollowed-out shell when he has had his fill.
______________________________________________________________________Patroclus sat there for the longest time, wondering where he had gone wrong. Gods, he had never meant to lead her on. He loved her that much was true, but not in the way she wished. In a weird little way, they had become a family, despite everything. Oh, Gods Achilles. How would he tell him, he had to tell him. Or perhaps he shouldn't. Achilles was known to be incredibly jealous when it came to him. He wouldn’t hear anything of reason and instantly be on the warpath. His lover had no reason to be jealous, he was already his body, heart, and soul. Gods, what could he say?  Steeling himself gently rose from the flowers, Achilles wasn’t home yet. Until then he had plenty of time to work up the courage to frame things that won’t have him on the warpath or feeling betrayed. ________________________________________Their house was eerily cold without anyone home, Alex was training and Achilles had to go to the field. This is why when he opened the door to their bedroom, he was startled. Achilles was sitting on the bed’s edge, still in his bloodied tunic. Armor scattered at his feet, head bowed with his hair hiding his face.  “Achilles?” Patroclus said softly, approaching him carefully.  His lover didn’t answer him, but suddenly rose. His voice graved as if he had been crying, asked him this, “Do you like-love her?,” Gods, that stung his tongue the thought that Patroclus loved another. But for him, he would put aside his jealousy as long as he was the only one in his heart.  “I’m sorry, I should rephrase that. Are you fucking her? Do you want to fuck her?” The ruddiness of Achilles’ cheeks was startling. Gods, he was furious. The red had spread to both the tips of his ears and chest.  His words were sharp and accusing, “I saw you two, together.” Oh, Gods, he had misunderstood.Before he could even get a word in, Achilles had him in his embrace. “I’ll ask you again, Patroclus do you want her because I would happily give her to you,” Achilles breathed against him.” While he shook with rage, Patroclus felt his grief. Heartbreak.  “I don’t love her, Achilles,” he returned, freeing himself from his grasp. “I never have, I only love you and only you,” he told him, going to cup his face. Achilles turned from him, only their hands were interlocked. “ I would not begrudge you if you wished to have her as a lover on the side. I would do anything for you. You only need to ask.” It didn't matter if Achilles was willing to do such a thing, he would never betray him as such.  Tears welling up in his green eyes, “It would be good for you to have her company after I..”  He kept from facing him. Patroclus twisted him towards him, “Achilles, stop this madness. I’m not in love with her and could never do such a thing to you. I’m appalled that you think so lowly of me.” Holding Achilles’ wrists in hand, hoped that he would look at him. Achilles had yet to respond, so he pulled him closer. After what felt like an eternity, he felt the tentativeness of fingers tracing his spine. “Truly, my love. Because you only have to ask.” Achilles muttered against his skin once more, “ Anything for you always. Tell me you know this.” Patroclus sighed against him, “I don’t want her like that. I don’t feel like that towards her; she is like a sister. From the moment we were thirteen, it has only been you...I only love you, and will only ever want you. ” I’m even carrying your child again.  The drawing and tracing continued, along with the warmth of his lips pressed against his skin. “I’m sorry. That I’m so jealous,” Achilles said between his kisses. Just that short while his heart had been wounded. He had felt as if his whole world was ending, and he would do anything to keep him. “I’ll forgive you always, you can do nothing wrong in my sight.” Except that you wish to throw your life away for glory. Achilles, why. Why wasn’t I enough of a reason? Why aren’t the children?  Achilles stopped tracing him, “You should be more careful with your forgiveness,” he breathed as his hands roamed to pull his tunic up. Out of instinct, Patroclus moved to wrap his legs around Achilles’ waist, whom hoisted him as if he weighed nothing. He resisted the urge to giggle loving that feeling of being weightless, encircled his arms around his neck. “After all, I’m at times only a man. I make mistakes, and sometimes I need to be reminded of such.” “You should scold me when you feel as if I have gone too far. You draw me back to myself, you pull me from being like them,” his lover whispered against him, taking him to their bed, “You make me human.” My humanity is owed to you. It begins and ends with you. Patroclus you’re a marvel, you have no idea.   “Then I shall be more stingy with my forgiveness and scold you like a shrill wife,” he joked.Settled against their pillows Patroclus cupped Achilles’ face, releasing it briefly to push a curl away. Because ultimately Achilles would do what pleases him regardless of his input.    “ No, my love, I don’t think I could ever be that cruel towards you. I love you too much, and you keep yourself human, because you are Achilles. My Achilles, I love you more than you can ever know,” Patroclus breathed drawing him against those soft, red lips. Deepening it he pressed him further into the bed.________________________While he had Patroclus’ assurances and love, Achilles wanted Briseis to know exactly where she stood. She was a war prize; and as far as their friendship went, he tolerated solely because his husband and child were fond of her. Otherwise, he would have snapped her like a twig. Who had given her the right to covet his husband, hasn’t she learned her lesson. Patroclus cared for her, but he loved and doted upon her like a sister. Too kind in his rejection, Achilles on the other hand. If she hadn’t learned the first time then it was time to reiterate the lesson. How much more obvious could he get, he had all but fucked Patroclus in front of her. What more would it take for her to see that Patroclus was never going to be hers. For the Gods’ sakes Patroclus was mother to his son, a child she looked after herself. It infuriated him beyond belief. How he hated her, hated that he had been so trusting of her. So naive.________________________A wave of exhaustion came over him suddenly, to the point he had to sit. Alex wanted to be let out of his lessons early, and he left him to go with little argument. His son had hesitated all but two seconds before he was off. Instead of going back to the medical tent, he had to lie down for a moment. It would only be a quick rest. Just a quick one. When he woke, found Briseis and Alex at the table having dinner. That was disconcerting as it should have been a short rest, but he has been so sleepy. Alexander’s green eyes meet his amused, “Papa you were asleep for quite a while. Was that why you let me go early?" Patroclus sat up feeling even more tired and dizzy, pressing a hand to his forehead. Already this child was making its presence known. This time he would tell Achilles sooner rather than later. "No my love, I don't know how I slept so long."  Alexander frowned a bit, dropping his playful mood. Was he catching the plague? The illnesses that plagued the other camps? "Papa are you alright?" Alex asked, scooted next to him pressing his hand to his face. Patroclus smiled to himself; his son had never grown out of his habit of trying to comfort him when he felt something was wrong. Still so gentle and sweet, his little babe. Taking his hand away, cradling it softly. "I'm fine love, only tired." His baby scooted closer to him and he hugged him close.  Patroclus brushed his fingers through his curls. With each passing day, he grew to look more and more like his father. However, at times he resembled him with his messy curls and dimples. "Papa, can I sleep here? Next to you." Mama could try to hide it but he wasn’t well. That was alright he would nurse him back to health just like his mother cared for him.  "Always my love," he grinned, kissing his forehead. Alex subtly checked his mother for fever but found none, maybe he was just tired. Hmm when father came home, he would tell him that mother wasn’t well.

Achilles came home to a beautiful sight, his husband and child asleep. Alex’s messy curls were unfurled against Patroclus’ chest, who had his arms wrapped around him. While as tired and weary as he was, he was energized by their presence. His happiness.________________________Patroclus fixed his hair for what felt like the millionth time, even then it was still untamable. Where was Automedon when you needed him? Kohl, should he wear it? Or was it too much. No, if he dressed up too much, it would draw too much attention. He fidgeted around their vanity once more, sliding on two armbands and his favorite jade bracelet. Placing his hands at his still flat belly, prayed that Achilles would take his gift with grace. ____________________________________________________________________________The atmosphere of the party was rowdy and filled with music and laughter. All of this for his birthday. He would have preferred a quiet celebration with his family. Alex was off causing havoc with his friends. Patroclus leaned over to refill his cup. “Are you enjoying the party,” he whispered in his ear. “ It is wonderful, but…” Patroclus waited patiently for him to finish. “ I wish it was only us.”  Patroclus’ warm breath tickled at his ear, “You mean me and you. How it used to be” Achilles cast his glance at Alex tossing a ball with the other boys.  “Hmm, I miss having you all to myself.” Nights spent having his fill of him completely. Tasting the sweet wine on his lips when he took him apart with each kiss. Gods what he wouldn’t give to steal his Patroclus away for a night. Well since it was his birthday…. Patroclus giggled a little, “ Then you may hate my gift.” “Nonsense,” he said, taking another sip, “ I love your gifts.” The way his dark eyes caught the firelight. Gods he was enchanting. Patroclus was but in his lap at this point when he whispered, “I’m pregnant.” Achilles nearly spat out his drink, he coughed again, not sure if he had heard him correctly. “What?!,” he whispered back to him. Patroclus reached for his hand and placed it on his belly. His previous seductive look had been replaced with a softer sweeter one, “ I am with your child, once more.”  How they had been so carefully, different positions, to him not spilling inside, the herbs. How had this happened? But now was not the time to dwell on that. His love was expecting their child. Gods. Achilles cupped his cheek, “I love you, Gods, I love you more than you can ever know” he whispered.  He went to stand, the excitement too much to bear. Wanting all of them to know especially her. Patroclus subtly tugged him back down.  “It’s too early, wait, my love,” he chuckled, “ but I appreciate your enthusiasm.” “We still have to tell Alexander. And I for one would prefer he hears it from us in private instead of in a crowd.” Achilles returned his smile, kissing him once more.  Outwardly he portrayed joy inside, but felt a sense of dread. Patroclus was already too precious for him to lose, and Alexander’s birth had nearly killed him. Gods, what had he done?___________________________________Telling Alexander was going to be tricky as much as their son had longed for another child to play with. He was also jealous of his precious time spent with his mother.  So they decided to tell him at dinner. His favorite honey cakes on the table which Alex eyed with something akin to suspicion. Nonetheless, dinner went well, Patroclus gripped his hand under the table. “Alexander,” he started, “how would you feel about a younger brother? Or a sister.” He supposed a sibling would be nice, but he liked to be his parents' only child. The sole center of their universe. Then he realized what his mother wasn’t asking so much as telling. Oh. Papa was expecting. Honestly, he was surprised he hadn’t had a sibling sooner. A sibling was a little late now but it would be nice to have someone to play with. He had to wait a while for them to grow but he would teach them everything. Horseback riding, swords, literature, mathematics, and herbs. His little brother would be cute. And if had a sister he supposed he would play dolls with her, he wasn’t really sure what girls did. Whatever they would be, he would protect them. However, he had to pay them back for making him wait so long. Besides he had put some of his allowance in the pot. Which had just doubled, ha. Uncle Automedon never led him wrong. A share of the pot was going to him. He was going to have candy for months. Eursakeys would be excited.  Alex tilted his head, “You promised I would be your only baby.” Pouting almost. Patroclus panicked, “We hadn’t meant for this to happen, it was an accident.” Their son raised an eyebrow, “How does one have a baby by accident? You told me you could only have one if you prayed to the Gods for one. Unless you lied to me…”  Alex was only messing with them, knowing very well where babies came from (Ajax and his cousin told him in great detail) he just wanted to watch them sweat. Gods, it had been worth it as they both shared an uncomfortable glance. Holy Hades they…  pft. He wasn't going to laugh because if he laughed it would be ruined.  “ We didn’t mean for this to happen. Really?!” Now they were hurrying to assure him, he supposes a little more teasing won’t hurt. Alex gave another fake sigh of sadness, “Now I’ll be forgotten.”The thought had briefly crossed his mind, but he was too loved for his parents to do such a thing. He was happy for them, for his mother, especially who had longed to give him a sibling.His parents were shocked, of course, his mother rushed to console him,  “No of course not, hardly anything will change except by the end of year… you’ll be a big brother. We will always love you, Alexander, please know that. Always.”  “Promise?”  His parents were bundling him into their embrace before he could get another word in, “Always, you’re our son. We could never forget you. We love you too.”  “I love you too,” he told them sincerely this time.  He really hoped for a brother. A brother was easy he could roughhouse with him and that would be it, a sister was more delicate. “And I want a brother,” he told them. His parents laughed. They laughed but he was serious.  Dead serious.______________“That went better than expected,” Achilles told him. He nodded. Alex had taken it better than they had thought but… he wanted a brother. Patroclus wasn’t sure how they would deliver him such a promise. Carriers gave birth to boys that much was true but only the first was guaranteed to be a boy, the others were a mixed bag. Usually, by now he would be plagued with horrible morning sickness but he had felt fine, just tired.  “I’m not sure this one is a boy,” he said quietly. This child was too calm and gentle, he had felt little to no symptoms of pregnancy. The only reason he knew at all was his blood had failed to come, and the date coincided with the last time they had been intimate. Achilles hummed, turning to face him “We can always try again.” But what if it was a girl, would he be..? “Would you be disappointed if it was a girl?” he asked softly. Most men wanted sons, even if his Achilles had two, more was always welcomed. He would try to give him a son. He felt a little teary-eyed.  His husband gathered him into his arms so that he rested against his chest, “Of course not, I would just be happy if you both safely got through labor that is all I can ask.”  “I wish for the baby to be a girl. And I’m sure that I’m right.” A daughter would be kept close at his side, spared from war.  “A princess,” A beautiful girl that would no doubt take after his beautiful Patroclus. “I pray she inherits your beauty and kindness.” He breathed stroking through those dark curls. Gods more than anything he prayed that they would both survive labor. Patroclus had come so close to bleeding out when he birthed Alexander. With this child, he hoped he wouldn’t suffer too much.___________________________________________The camp was ablaze with the news, Patroclus was carrying the prince’s child. A pregnant carrier was a sign of fortune, a favor from Zeus. After all these years could this be a sign that the war was ending?  “Did you hear, Prince Consort Patroclus is expecting?” “I heard it from….” “Really?” “Finally,” another piped in, “It has been years already. By the Gods, he should have given out prince an army by now.” A man scoffed at that,“ Having all those children tires the body. Our prince likes him pretty and slim. Besides remember last time how sick he had gotten, both him and the little prince. The prince was right to be careful with his health.”  “He really treasures him.” Theo sighed to himself, well he had lost the bet. The only thing consoling him was that so many had been right so the prize was much smaller. Three gold coins for each victor.  Hades, the bet had even inspired the Trojans to start their own wagers for their Prince Hector and his princess, Andromache.  Apparently, Prince Hector’s wife too was expecting. She and Patroclus were supposedly due at the same time.  Hm would be this a sign that the two babies were to end the war. A marriage between the offspring of Prince Hector and Prince Achilles. He already felt a new bet rising from the ashes.  The question is who would have a son and who a daughter. If their consort would give them a boy or girl. Now that was a good bet.After the day Achilles confronted her, he always sent her such hateful looks. Which she returned. All civility that had marked their previous encounters was now marked by hostility.
Of course, they did so when Patroclus’ back was turned. Not wanting him to be upset or be forced to make up and become friends again. As if they had ever been “friends”. Their front had been united until Achilles had started making his possessiveness known. He always had to have at least some part of him touching Patroclus. Arms around his waist or shoulder. Tucking his hair behind his ears or kissing his forehead. Dragging his thumb down his cheeks or lips, before planting explicit kisses on him. She could tell his little displays were for her eyes only for Achilles sent her such smug expressions. Like a cat that got the cream. Only the cream was Patroclus.  He should have just pissed on him, if his nature was so possessive.  But he just had to take it even further, Patroclus was expecting again. Achilles was such a hateful thing, flaunting Patroclus’ tiny swell to all, but especially in front of her.  Palming his belly, as if to say, “ I did this, he is having my child. And you will never have his. Even when I’m dead he will never fall for your charms .”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Bored.
 
All he felt was boredom; there were many things one could think about on a battlefield. Boredom wasn’t one of them. Achilles supposed one could tire of the monotonous act of killing, but he was bored. Spilling blood no longer appealed to him as it did when he was young. Gods, there was once a time when his hands were clean, and he cared nothing for killing. All these years in Troy had only fueled his innate nature to be cruel and wanton with violence. The side he tried so hard to suppress in front of his Patroclus had been brought to the forefront. To make it all the worse, Patroclus had seen his ugliness and yet still loved him.
 
They were even expecting to welcome a child in the spring. Gods, his beautiful Patroclus had given him so much, yet he was still so self-centered. Achilles wanted godhood to ensure that he and his beloved would never separate. He didn't care about immortality but the status if he had the power to keep Patroclus from being a pawn in the Gods’ sick games. Ability to keep him as he was frozen forever in time. Power to do as he pleased, no more bowing his head to his mother, father, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Odysseus, Gods, the Fates, none of them. Achilles would only answer to one, his Patroclus.

________________________________________

Apollo watched the demigod with barely veiled disgust. This is what Thetis had raised, such an arrogant child he was—slaughtering
his
precious people with little care or thought.
 
“My

Apollo-,” he called, fingers brushing against his cheek.

“ Apollo!”

laughter turned to grief.

He shook his head to clear his mind. Those days were long gone.
 
Athena’s champion’s work was almost done. And with it, the beginning of the end, the end of this tedious game. Icarus had fallen due to his arrogance, and now Achilles would too. Apollo was eager to see him tumble from the height of his hubris. 
 
Oh, Thetis, how foolish you have been.

_________________________________________

There’s a soft shiing in the air as Patroclus unsheathed his sword. Silver gleaming dimly in the light as his beloved lightly ran his fingers over the metal. There was an almost soft longing in his eyes.

Achilles let himself nuzzle into his beloved’s neck, letting his hands encircle his beautiful swelling belly.

“Do you miss it?” he asked softly.

Patroclus hummed slightly at the question, sharpening the blade.

“I-,” his steady hand faltered, “I suppose I do.”

“Not the killing, but I do miss being useful to you.”

Achilles took in a sharp breath, “You are useful, my love. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

His lover laughed, gesturing to where their child resided, “I suppose I’ll have to sit quietly until they decide to come into the world. Until then, I’ll grow fat and listless.”

“You’re not fat,” he said, further curling around him.

“You’re the very light in my life. My beloved Patroclus for whom my heart beats-”

Patroclus batted him away, giggling, “Enough I get it, my Achilles. Truly.”

“I don’t think you do,” Achilles said quietly, pressing a kiss at his collar, “How you are my very breath and how I begin and end with you. I always have.”

Stopping his work, Patroclus intertwined their fingers, “We were made for one another, Achilles. I know your thoughts almost as well as you do mine.”
 
Kissing them, Achilles vowed, “ Forevermore.”
 
Pomegranate red lips were between his teeth when-
 
“Patroclus!” Breiseis’ voice drew them both from the moment. Patroclus wriggled from his embrace, pretending to be tending his sword again when the door swung open.
 
“There you are-” the words died in her throat when she realized he was here as well. Her demeanor changed in an instant, “My lord,”  as she curtsied to him before turning back to Patroclus.
 
Something was said in the Trojans’ rough language before his lover untangled himself from him. An apology was whispered with the urgency that a woman was in labor. A lingering kiss was placed on his cheek, and the sword pressed into his hands.  His lover was trailing after her. Dark eyes met his in almost a victorious gleam.
 
Only a moment later did he register warmth dripping onto his thigh. Achilles stared at the wound. By all the Fates, he hated the insecurity that overcame him when it came to her. Patroclus loved him enough, but why did she make him feel so worthless and unworthy of that love?

“Are you alright, mama?” Alex asked him for what felt like the millionth time since they set out. Oh, his sweet son, he should be off with his friends, not here with him. Playing enjoying his childhood, what little was left of it. 
 
“I’m alright, my love. Shouldn't you be off with your friends?”

Alex shook his head, “I want to stay with you,” he pleaded, resting his head against his chest, “don’t send me away, mama.” How could he even dare to tell his precious son to leave if he wanted to stay?
 
“I would never send you away, my dearest. I swear it.” His son only clung to him tighter; he had become so spoiled lately. 
 
“Then let’s go swimming,” his son suggested, spring up, cheerful again. Patroclus laughed, letting himself be dragged along. His heart full of his son's ringing laughter.

Days passed like a thread through a needle before he realized summer had settled. His tiny swell had grown larger. His hands came up to grasp at the smooth curve of his belly. Things were going to be okay this time. Achilles was going to… 
 
Oh, no, Achilles was…. going to die. Patroclus felt tears fill his eyes. Achilles was going to make him a widower and leave their children fatherless. Breathe deep breaths, Patroclus. Breathe, just breathe. Right now, the last thing he needed was to become upset. There was a life in him that depended on his health. 
 
Achilles wouldn’t do anything reckless, especially not now that he was with a child. How sad that this was how he sought to assure himself that Achilles would not break his trust. Gods, he was becoming no better than Odysseus and the rest of them. Not that Achilles cared; he was affectionate, of course, but distant so distant. His heart was a million miles away from his body.
 
Perhaps he was secretly angry with him for getting pregnant again. Achilles had been surprised at first and then overjoyed at the thought of another child. Now he wasn’t sure. No, he was overthinking again; Achilles was just worried for him. Alexander’s birth had been nothing short of traumatic for him, but this time things were going very well for him and the baby, with no nausea, pain, or swelling. He just found himself resting much more. 
 
Patroclus prayed that the pregnancy would continue as such because then his lover wouldn’t be so distressed. Gods, he wished he had never told Achilles how difficult pregnancy and delivery were for a carrier.

By the Gods, he was excited. His wish had finally come true; a sibling was coming. He was going to rub in all his friends' faces; I

have a cute brother.

Doing everything he possibly could to make his mother feel more comfortable. 
 
“

Here,” he told his mother, proudly holding out a basket of ripe berries. Juicy and sweet, he had tasted them himself.

His mother suddenly gathered him into his embrace, kissing his cheeks, “Thank you, my Alex. My sweet Alex.”

A simple gift from him had made his mother beam as if he had won yet another race. So he continued to bring his mother other things; flowers, candy, a rabbit...” His favorite was the time he and his father had hunted down a bear. Its pelt would serve as his mother’s winter cloak.

Even if he felt silly, he sometimes talked to his sibling. His mother swore that he had blocked his ears and anything said between them stayed between them. Obviously, he was lying because he was trying not to giggle as he pressed his lips to his little brother’s ear. Alex pouted; his mother must have thought himself so clever. No matter, he greeted his brother for the day. 
 
“Um, hello,” he said softly, “I wa-wanted to tell you...um. Well, I’m going to protect you, so you have to grow strong. Okay?” By now, his face was burning, and his mother was giving him a soft look, “I love you, bye.” 
 
Patroclus chuckled as his child left. Their son was too precious. 
 
Gently he placed his hands over his bump, “Did you hear, little one? You are much loved.”
 
A soft fluttering acknowledged it.  
 
Oh.
 
Patroclus smiled; oh, this babe was so gentle. He wondered when they would start to be a little more active. Achilles and Alex were disappointed when they felt his belly and nothing. Well, he supposed it was nice to have this just between them.

________________________________________________________________________

“Hector,” Andy called for him. Immediately he was at her side, fingers gently curling into her rounding waist, helping her to sit up.
 
She batted his hand away, reclining back against the chaise,  “I don’t want to get up, my love. Let me rest. I’m tired.”
 
“Sorry, my love, what is the matter?”
 
“I want…” the words wouldn’t come. She had forgotten what she desired. Or better yet, what their little prince craved, by the Gods she prayed for a son. An heir for her husband who deserved nothing less. Her loving husband, her Hector.
 
“Anything,  Andy. Tell me what it is you desire?”  he asked, kissing her hand. He would lay the world at her feet if she asked for it. For a moment, all she could do was stroke her husband’s dark curls. Her Hector was so handsome. She hoped their child would be as kind and handsome as he was.  Ah, now she remembered. 
 
“Cakes,” she crooned softly, already tasting the soft crusty dough. Filled with filling and honey. Perhaps a jug of mead with it and fresh figs.
 
“What type, Andy?” Hector returned, cupping her face. Gods, this was real; they had a child. 
 
He wanted to get on his knees and worship the very ground she walked after all these years. The Gods had blessed him. No, he had been gifted the day he set on his beautiful Andromache. He was Atlas bearing the very world on his shoulder, the sheer weight which threatened to crush him at every second. Yet, with her at his side, nothing mattered.

“I don’t care. I just know that I crave it madly,” she sighed, curling her fingers around his bringing their foreheads together.

“Alright, anything for my darling wife,” he promised, kissing her soft lips. Hector would give her the world had she desired it, yet she wanted none of that. All she wanted was him safe. The only thing he could not give her. He made no illusions of his fate. He knew Achilles would kill him, but he prayed the Gods would be merciful to let him see his child born.

“Achilles, come back to bed,” Patroclus beckoned, lounging against their pillows, hair spilling like ink across his bronzed skin. Gods, he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with him. Take the fill of his sweet lips-

“Patroclus,” he groaned, removing wayward hands from pushing up his tunic.

His lover only giggled,” Achilles~,” resuming its path to his-

“I have to go.” Achilles drawled, pulling away before his will weakened, and he stayed. How could he deny such a beautiful vision, a divine vision that carried their child?

“What would it take for you to stay?”  Patroclus asked this casually, but his eyes told a different story as he presented himself in a manner that dear Gods-.

Dark eyes peered up at him innocently, but holy Hera that mouth, “Would this make you stay?”

Patroclus decided to choose for him.

“Stay,” he cooed, fluttering his lashes. Settling himself in a more comfortable position, in his lap.

___________________________________________

“You’re going to be late, my love,” Patroclus hummed against his chest. His face and lips were wonderfully flushed. Hera above, he was perfect.

“Who’s fault is that?” Achilles murmured.

“Yours,” Patroclus innocently replied there was nothing innocent about him.

“Mine,” he claimed the accusation, well it equal parts their fault but Gods, he wasn’t going to argue with Patroclus. Being with a child tended to make him moody. It was best to agree for everyone’s sake.

“I think I’ll stay here with you, my darling husband.”

Patroclus, hmm, as if considering it, “I’d rather you go. I’m tired now.”

Again, he wasn’t going to argue with him. He sat up only to have Patroclus tug him down. So he honestly didn’t want him to leave.

Achilles decided to tease him, “How cruel my love is making me leave after beguiling me between your legs.”

That got him an indignant, “Achilles!”

“You wanted me to stay, and now you want to kick me out.”

“I feel guilty for making you miss your duties,” Patroclus sighed, turning his face away. How cute.

Duties to Hades, Patroclus always came first. Whatever he wanted or needed would be his.

Capturing his lips hoped to convey just how much he loves him that his love was boundless.

“It’s only a meeting, my love.” he whispered when their lips parted; on the other hand, had I left….” Achilles let his hands trail up his ample waist.

“Never would I have seen such beauty,” placing another kiss at his lips, relishing in his husband’s soft gasp.

_________________________________

He made his Achilles hours late to the war council. In the Gods’ name, what was the matter with him? He had become so clingy lately, not wanting Achilles to leave to the point he wanted to crawl into his skin. Achilles had only left, and all he wanted was him back in his arms. Patroclus knew his lover was safe, but his mind and hormones raced to the worst-case scenario always. Then again, Achilles often started fights at the councils. However, this time, he vowed not to be so anxious and snappy towards everyone, Achilles especially. Yet here he was again, Gods he wished the months would go quicker.

_______________________________________________________

“They have no honor, or they would have agreed,” Nestor shouted, sending the room into a flurry of noise. 
 
Odysseus did nothing but further fan the flames, “Paris is but a boy, Menelaus will have no issue trying to beat him.”
 
For once, he was glad his Patroclus had stayed home to rest. This was a ridiculous notion. Menelaus and Paris had once dueled, and the Gods had intervened. They wanted to drag the war out for as long as possible. Otherwise, it would have happened. 
 
“Cowardly Paris will this time ask his brother, Prince Hector, to be his substitute,” Diomedes grumbled.
 
“Then we can have Prince Achilles deal with him,” Agamenon suggested, his eyes daring him to disagree.
 
Ah, now he saw their motive. Hector had done nothing to him. He would dare not break his promise, especially as his Patroclus was expecting.
 
“If it comes to that, Paris will probably wish to prove his worth to his wife,” he drawled. Menelaus and Diomedes both flinched. Hmm, this was so much better than rising to their taunts. 
 
“Don’t you want to show off for your spouse,” Menelaus returned after a moment, smug? Why he ought to wipe that smirk off his face, this bastard. 
 
“He’s gotten pretty,” a man said quietly, but he heard him all the same, “any man would die for him.” Achilles’ eye twitched violently. Patroclus, of course, was beautiful but when he held a child became divine. Dark doe eyes surrounded by full lashes, pouty lips as red as pomegranates, and by the Gods, the way his hips and thighs curved. Hera hold him. He worshipped his very being. What he wouldn’t give to be back in his bed again. Yet for others to speak of him with their filthy tongues made him see red. No, now was not the time, no matter how he wanted to rip that bastard’s throat out. That’s what they wanted for him to go berserk again.
 
“I show off for him enough,” Achilles was taunting them, daring them to continue, “after all, he carries my child twice now.” That sent the room chattering again. Good Zeus, if Patroclus were here, he would have his head for speaking as such. 
 
“Besides, there is no thrill in killing a man whom I outrank in every way. Such a thing could not be called a duel but a slaughter. His wife is expecting, as is my lovely Patroclus. I would never cause a woman such grief.” 
 
A chill washed over the room; every single last one of them knew Achilles had done that and more. Why now? Because his husband was expecting a child, he showed mercy or because Patroclus had asked. They all knew the hold Patroclus held over Achilles but would never use in their favor. Unless pushed, but how?

Odysseus pondered how to fracture their marital bliss, which was vital to loosen Patroclus’ sway.

_______________________________________________

Today was so beautiful, the breeze warm and the sky an endless streaks of white and blue, not a storm in sight. A perfect day spent with his son in the meadows. Gods, it feels like a lifetime ago that he once taught him to make flower crowns. Patroclus smiled softly, brushing his hand over his ever growing bump. It was still so early. At spring’s beginning, another child would be in his arms, but for now, he is content to watch his eldest grow.  
 
Alex lay in the flowers plucking at tiny wildflowers in his grasp, “He loves me, he loves me not.” By the gods, this was such a frustrating ordeal. That boy was so…. Infuriatingly handsome. Oh, but he disappeared every time he so much as glanced in his direction. It wasn’t fair. He had stolen his first kiss and now had the audacity to toy with his feelings. 
 
“Mama,” Alex called to him. Patroclus tilted his head slightly, careful not to let Apollo’s rays blind him. 
 
“Yes, my love?”  he said softly, gesturing for him to come closer. 
 
Alex grasped his hands before leaning in as if telling a secret, “How did you get father to stop being stupid and tell you how he felt?” Patroclus let the question linger in the air for a moment. Achilles, oh his Achilles, had been so infuriating in the years following their kiss. Those years had been absolute misery on his heart, Gods. 
 
“ I didn’t. Your father had to muster up the courage to stop being so draft,” annoyance bleeding into his voice. Achilles. Gods, he had been such an utter idiot, completely blind too. Blind to how he wanted to be his, even at this age cringed at how desperate he had been for even a crumb of Achilles’ affection. The affection which now Achilles drowned him and their children aplenty. 
 
“So I just have to wait for him to stop being an idiot,” his son said, all but pouting. Awareness came to him slowly, him? Who was

him

? Which boy had caught his son’s eyes? One of Diomedes’ sons, or another?
 
“Does your suitor have a name?” he fished. Oh, look at that blush. His child had a crush. A crush he had known nothing about. Did Achilles know already? By the stars, he hoped not.
 
Alex huffed, “He all but runs every time I went near him but was bold enough to kiss me yet not brave enough to tell me his name. If he wasn’t so pretty…”

Running

. Wait a moment. His memory recalled the boy who asked to give a laurel to his son. Oh.
 
“The blue-eyed boy at the race-no,” Patroclus had recalled him even further than that the white flower that his son had been gifted. Instantly his son’s face was crimson.
 
“Yes,” Alex sighed sadly, “ perhaps he does not like me?” Now that wouldn’t do. His son was kind and handsome. Anyone would be lucky to have his attention. 
 
“Or he is timid?” Patroclus proposed. Something flashed behind his son’s eyes before it was gone.
 
“He isn’t shy.” If he felt shy, he wouldn’t have kissed him, given him a flower, placed the laurel on him, or danced with him at the festival. He was just so damn obvious but so clumsy. Alex pitied his mother if this is what his father had done for three years.
 
“Just a bastard, a cowardly one,” he stated with an air of finality. 
 
“I’m going to show him that he can not toy with my heart and think I will simply take it.” Well, then his Alex was much braver than him. Why wait when you can take the initiative yourself. It had taken Achilles three long years.
 
“Either he tells me that he likes me, or I will..” Alex stopped before springing up, “I have to find him.. and he is going to tell me his name if it is the last thing I do.” Then he was gone. Patroclus chuckled to himself; that poor boy had no idea the storm headed his way. And if this boy broke his son’s heart, he was going to break all of his bones. Pregnant or not. 
 
Hera help him. He was beginning to sound like his husband.

Alex had searched high and low for any trace of the blue-eyed boy, yet there was no trace of him. Everything was screaming at him that something was wrong. He should have known better than to get his hopes up. That boy had been marked by Death, its hold permeating over him. And if there was one thing he knew better than anyone was that his visions had an eerie way of coming true.

_________________________________________________________________

Amyntor thanked all the Gods above that he had been in the field when his friend told him that Prince Alexander had been looking for him. It wasn’t that he disliked him. He liked him quite a lot. But what could a simple page boy offer the son of

Aristos Achaion

and his warrior consort? They may have all grown up in a war camp, but Prince Alexander was much more sheltered. At the same time, he knew of the war and helped to heal the sick. However, he knew nothing of war, actual war.
 
He did not know how the enemy would strike you down and kill you regardless of your age. The wailing of still-living men as crows feasted on their innards. War was ugly, yet it was the only way a poor boy could make himself great. Amynotr hoped that one day when he was of a higher standing could court him. Suppose he could even build up the courage to even speak to him. Gods, when it came to the blond prince, his tongue-tied and twisted itself, surely he looked stupid, and Alexander thought him a mute. Even if his tongue failed him, he hoped his gestures got through. From the moment they met, he felt as if he was his destiny, his fate.

______________________________________________________________________

There was nothing more hurtful than watching your crush have eyes for another.
 
Perhaps this was his family’s punishment for defying Aphrodite, always to be unlucky in love. Watching Alex dance with that boy at the festival had crushed his entire heart.

The golden gleam of blond curls in the campfire as he and the boy twirled. Stars caught in those emerald eyes and the pink in his cheeks.

And all he was allowed to do was watch from the sidelines, smiling and praying his tears would contain themselves.

Of course, there was nothing one could do to change Alex’s mind once it had been made. That blue-eyed boy had wholly stolen his attention. Androcles wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair. They were both princes. He would have given anything to be his, but no. It was humiliating that the boy did not even have the same status but dared to look at his betters. 
 
Gods, he was beginning to sound like his father, entitled to someone regardless of their feelings. No, he swore that he would be better than that. He would support his friend from the shadows and smile no matter how his heart hurt. Because losing Alex would be much worse if they weren’t at least friends.

______________________________________________

Achilles expected to find Patroclus resting comfortably in bed. Instead, their bedroom was empty. Alex, too was nowhere to be found. 
 
He prayed Patroclus was nowhere near where he thought he was. Trudging through their camp, there was no sign of his lover. By the Gods, that was the last place he wished for him to be right now. He needed to be resting.
 
“Achilles,” Patroclus called from behind him. Even as drenched in blood, he was, Gods, he was stunning.
 
Hera hold him if Patroclus had been divine when he carried Alex. This time he transcended even that. Gods, all he wanted to do was lay worship at his feet, exalted him with offerings. 
 
“Patroclus,” he breathed, curling him into his embrace, “where have you been?”
 
His lover only sighed softly, “I've been working. The medical tent needed my help.” 
His stubborn Patroclus, he should be resting. 
 
Scooping him into his arms, “Come rest,” Achilles said, walking back into camp. Patroclus sighed but didn’t fight him.
 
 Patroclus noticed the freckles across the bridge of Achilles’ nose reaching out, lightly traced patterns against them. Cute. 
 
He must have said that out loud because his lover stopped. 
 
“Are they?” Achilles teased, wrinkling his nose. “I think yours are much cuter.” Looping his arms tighter around his neck, Patroclus kissed his nose.
 
“But they fit you so well, husband.” Patroclus wanted to kiss him, taste the sweetness of his mouth. Nibble on plush lips, steal the very breath from his lungs. 
 
Achilles bit the inside of his cheek, cheeky little thing. By the stars, he drove him mad—his beautiful Patroclus.
 
Continuing to trace his patterns against his face until his fingers reached his lips. He titled his lover’s chin up ever so slightly and simply pressed his lips against his. His husband stopped his trek again to ensure he was securely against his chest. Fingers digging into his thighs ever so lightly, if only his hand would go up a bit higher.  
 
As much as he enjoyed having his tongue down his lover’s throat, there were better places where it could be put to use. Patroclus felt Achilles shift and let him pull back to breathe. It appeared that he had stolen too much of his breath. Or from the dark look in his eyes, not enough of his breath.
 
Arriving in their room, Achilles made quick work of his bloodied clothes. However, before he advanced any further, lifting his feet and placed a delicate kiss at the ankle. Repeating the gesture up his leg, stopping at his inner thigh. Gods, all they had done was kiss, and he was already a mess.  He bit at his lip to keep from crying out further, Achilles by the Gods.
 
Achilles only grinned, returning to lick a stripe up his cock before engulfing it. This time his cry was rewarded with a satisfied hum. Nails clawing into his shoulders served to make him more eager to increase his piety. His divine Patroclus.
 
Inhaling his sweet scent, “I want to adore you, worship you,” muttered against his damp skin,” let me.”
 
 He went to remove Patroclus’ tunic when his hands were pushed away. Dark eyes peered at him shyly as if begging him not to undress him. Why? He hadn’t been shy earlier… Gods, if only he could see himself.
 
“Stop hiding; you’re so lovely,” he remarked, wanting to kiss all of his tiger stripes. Patroclus, his Patroclus, was so beautiful with their child, all curved and round. His God of endless smooth dark skin and doe eyes. Lips as red as freshly spilled blood, of wild curls and laughter. His very life.  
 
“I look hideous,” he whined,“ and fat.” Everything was slowly becoming more swollen, and he... Surely it was better to leave things like this, Achilles would be able to worship him with-
 
“Never,” Achilles had to prove to him just how gorgeous he thought him.
 
Patroclus was slim everywhere except for his thighs and ass. That was before he even got pregnant. If he hadn’t known that he gave birth to their son, he would have never known that he had even carried a child. 
 
“There isn’t an inch of fat on you because,” kneading his ass, lecherously whispered, “because it all goes here.” That got a pretty blush stretching from his face to his chest by Aphrodite; even his freckles were more vibrant. 
 
“I adore you, my light, my heart, my soul, my life. You have nothing to hide from me. Patroclus, I worship the very ground you walk on. You have placed the moon and the stars in the sky solely because of your beauty,” He sounded blasphemous, but this was his God, his Patroclus. 
 
“Oh,” he breathed softly and reached up to undo the clasps, and the fabric pooled around his hips. Hera hold him, by all that was sacred, Patroclus. 
 
“You’re beautiful, divine,” Achilles breathed in awe of him, “my Patroclus, philtatos.” With each word that fell from his lips, Patroclus felt his blood run hot. Achilles, Achilles- he wante-no needed to touch him. Capture his very heart in his mouth, taste the devotion as it swept down his throat. 
 
Patroclus lifted himself on his elbows, slowly curling his fingers at Achilles’ nape,“ Worship me then,” he exhaled, “ my Achilles lay it all at my feet.” 
 
He had never once thought himself greedy for praise, but his lover made it so easy to fall into it. Achilles was overcome with it, hands roaming where they pleased, touching him as he pleased. Swallowing all of his cries and moans while singing soft praise against his skin. The ritual was more than just a physical meeting; this was a merging of their souls. He and Achilles as one, no they were one. 
 
Yet if Achilles wanted to worship him properly, he wanted him to be beholden at his mercy. No longer was he allowed to touch him as he pleased. Patroclus would impart his devotion to him.

____________________________________________

Hazed eyes met his as saliva trailed down both their chins. Sinking in further, he gripped Patroclus’ hips to ground them both. It was too hot, too tight. By Hera, he would be driven mad purely because of the way he was being squeezed in such a vice-like fashion. Seating himself deep inside, he found that Patroclus wasn’t done with him yet.
 
His lover, trembling, leaned back, pushing his hands from his waist, all while still keeping their pace. A devious gleam in his eyes, there was no way he was going to last not like this. Finally figuring out their pace, he spread his legs even wider, forcing him to fuck him at almost any angle. They both groaned at that. 
 
“Gods,” he breathed when Patroclus firmly planted his hands against his chest. Slowly their pace bid him to lie down, all while he drew himself up and down. Letting him watch his cock go in and out of him, the sight was enthralling. His God.
 
“Close?” Patroclus huffed.
 
“Yes.” 
 
“Hmm,” he hummed, a look flashed over his eyes. A devious grin spilling over his lips, and his nails dug further into the soft flesh of his belly. Welts rising as blood sluggishly pooled to the surface. He paid them no mind; they would be gone by daybreak.
 
“That’s not enough, Achilles. Adore me as you say you do.” Patroclus panted particularly breathless.
 
“I adore you, Patroclus,” he half pleaded, half begged. Patroclus responded by bearing down even more. By Zeus, he wasn’t going to last.
 
“Tell me how you adore me,” their pace became much more erratic. Patroclus was drunk on the way Achilles cried his name.

Pat-tro-clus, my Pat-tro-clus.

Was this what worship felt like, to be the center of such devotion? It was no small wonder why the Gods craved it. But no one could adore him as much as his Achilles. His moon and stars.

Patroclus laid against his lover’s chest, listening to his soothing heartbeat. His lover’s fingers tangled in his hair. 
 
“What are you thinking about?” Achilles’ chest rumbled with the vibrations.
 
“You,” he admitted softly, “I’m always thinking about you.”
 
“Oh.” Under his ear, Achilles’ heart was beating faster. His own picked up to match it. 
 
“Yes, I love you,” he breathed,” I’ll always love you.” Until we are nothing more than dust swept across the Earth, boundless and free, they would always be together in death or life. 
 
The sharp inhale his lover gave sounded surprised.
 
“You know that I love you, right?” Patroclus propped himself up to meet those virdrine eyes. 
 
Achilles cupped his cheeks,  “I love you, my light.”  His lover went even redder. Achilles could have just eaten him up. Well, again. Instead, he settled for kissing him as deep as possible, relishing in the clean taste of his mouth. 
 
While they parted, taking in the dazed look of his lover. Achilles suddenly remembered.
 
“How do you wish to celebrate your birthday?” Achilles asked, bringing him further and further into his embrace. 
 
Patroclus hummed, finger tracing patterns against his chest, “I want something quiet, intimate this year.”
 
Achilles chuckled softly; it had been the same when he carried Alex. Patroclus, in truth, had been too aggravated to have a loud party, preferring to spend it cuddling his embrace. Marveling at the way their child had moved. This child was much too quiet, but perhaps it was better that way. Patroclus was having an easier time.
 
Achilles pecked his lips softly, “I’ll grant it for you, anything for you.” 
 
“Achilles-.” his lover started then stopped.
 
“Anything else, my love?” He never had to be hesitant if he desired something, Achilles would move the stars and more if he even dreamed of it. 
 
“Could we go sailing again?” He had missed the freshness of the sea breeze, the awe of seeing the heavens reflected on the surface. Alex, too, would love it.

The request was simple and easy to grant. A day spent at sea, his spirit already felt at ease. Water calmed him more than anything these days. 
 
Achilles chuckled, “Hm, this child too craves the embrace of the sea.” Hand spread against his rounded belly. Gods, his Patroclus was a marvel, a paragon of strength, beauty, and fertility.
 
Patroclus rolled his eyes, and what of it, “Well?” 
 
“Of course, my love. I’ll have everything prepared for it.” Maybe he would even take him to one of the smaller merchant centers that had sprung up in the cities they controlled. The goods from the East would no doubt capture his attention. Ah, he almost forgot. He untangled himself from him by rummaging in the chest at the foot of the bed.
 
“Achilles, what are you-?” Patroclus reached for him, but he was too far from his grasp.
 
“Aha-,” There was much more where this came from; in fact, there were two more chests filled to the brim.
 
“Happy birthday, my love,” he said, presenting the rod of rich fabric to his lover. 
 
Taking it, Patroclus was awed at how it slipped through his fingers, “How beautiful,” he whispered. He had only glanced at the blue fabric once, and yet here it was. Slipping through his fingers like water, the color of Pthtia’s waters. 
 
Achilles grinned.
 
“It will be even more beautiful when you wear it,” kissing his lips again. Patroclus nearly fell into his clutches before catching the fading light through their window.
 
“It’s sunset?!” Scrambling for his clothes, he rushed over to see that Alex had not returned home.
 
“Achilles,” he said, feeling panic rise. Alex was never late when it came to curfew. Gods, anything could have happened to him. Trojans, anything.
 
Achilles was already racing out the door when he bumped into his son. Eyes swollen and red. Tears tacky on his cheeks. Who dared to make his child cry? Achilles was going to rip their fucking heads off.
 
“Father,” Alex all but wailed, “I hate him.” He never wanted to see that wicked boy ever again. He had purposely hidden from him again. 
 
“Hate who?”

“Him.”
 
Both his parents said nothing further, gathering him in their soothing embrace.

“That boy,”

they communicated with their eyes, “

is dead.”

How dare he make their precious child cry.

“Baa-”
 
“How cute,” Patroclus cooed at the baby goat, trying to nip at his tunic. Alex, too, was trying to pet it, but it only had eyes for Patroclus. Rubbing its head at him for pets. Animals always were drawn to his lover; even his horse preferred Patroclus as his rider. 
 
“Aren’t you cute?” his lover continued to fond over the goat. Cute? Achilles found them rather creepy; their slanted pupils were enough to give him reason to steer clear. But if Patroclus liked it, then it was his. 
 
Turning to the exasperated herder, he paid the man the gold. Perhaps more than what the scrawny thing was worth, but that was fine. It was well worth Patroclus’ bright smile and even softer kiss at his lips. Anything for his Patroclus.
 
“Baa-” the goat too was thanking him. Personally, it could have kept it.

_______________

Alex and Patroclus wondered ahead of him with their new pet right on their heels. This market was smaller than the one on the Trojan shore, but it held more mysterious items. His lover had wondered if the merchants were from the East. Achilles understood where he was coming from; there were numerous spices, richly colored fabrics, and things he had never seen before. So far, there had been no sighting of jade, how he longed to give his Patroclus a complete set of jade bracelets.
 
“Prince of Pthtia, wouldn’t you buy your beloved a set of gold bracelets.” a raspy voice called from under the hood.
 
He paused briefly to see if there was anything other than gold. Patroclus stopped at his side, but something wasn’t right. All sound had ceased, and everything moved at such a sluggish pace it was eerie. He knew right then that time had been slowed and that this seller was not ordinary.
 
“I was looking for jade, actually,” he retorted casually. He wasn’t going to give the Gods the satisfaction of rattling him. If they had something to say, have at it then.
 
The hood removed itself, and he exhaled a breath of relief. Blond curls curled around an angelic face: Patroclus' godly ancestor, Ganymede. 
 
“Tsk,” Ganymede clicked his tongue, taking in his pregnant descendent and not for the first time wondered where he went wrong. Of all the possible men,

Aristos Achaion.

He pitted that child who only knew how to love purely, for he loved a man who would never be satisfied. Always hungry for more and more, a bottomless pit that swallowed everything and anything whole. 
 
“You say anything,” Ganymede paused, checking his nails, “but it is only what you wish to give him. Not what he requests.” How he wept for his descendant, they had no idea what awaited them. If Achilles had only...
 
“ Patroclus knows little of greed because he was so often starved of affection as a child… yet cherishes every bit of love he gets by the stars. Achilles, you do not even realize the extent of what he has and- is willing to sacrifice for you. Foolish idiot, you have been blinded.”
 
Achilles would only see when it was too late, if then. It was already too late. Ganymede prayed he chose differently, for all their sakes. 
 
His eyes gleamed golden,” Open your eyes before you have thrown away the greatest gift in your life.”
 
“For what’s,” Ganymede laughed, “Congratulations, Achilles. Your beloved is expected to birth you healthy twins.”
 
Twins?! Surely there must be a mistake. Patroclus did not even appear to be heavily pregnant even as he entered his fourth month. Oh, Gods, when he realized...Patroclus was going to...
 
“Are you sure they are to be twins, he-.”
 
Ganymede shrugged carelessly, “I do not know, but if Aphrodite blessed him with fertility and beauty. And by the way, you stay in his bed. One can only assume.” Hera knew Aphrodite gave out gifts but rarely followed up with them, but these two were her favorite entertainment. Her devoted cursed lovers. Yet the war had all of them busy, even the Goddess of Love and Beauty. And if he had told Hera about said fertility blessing and she had flown into a rage from how Aphrodite was overstepping her boundaries. That was his business only. His poor Patroclus had suffered enough. Oh, but Achilles’ face. Ganymede took his entertainment where he could. 
 
Speaking of gifts, his descendants needed something to gain some leverage on the board.
 
“I’ll gift you two something,” A small box materialized in his hands. The box was red and lacquered; a strange symbol latched it shut. 
 
“I have no power in the Pantheon, but this is beyond even their view. Use it when the time is right.”
 
Achilles took it, wary. The Gods had once gifted Pandora a box, and it had been filled with all the ills of the world. Again Ganymede rolled his eyes, opening the box and nestled in the satin fabric-
 
“Achilles, did you find something you liked?” He jolted, realizing time had more forward again. Patroclus rested a hand on his forearm, and Alex peeked curiously too but went back to petting his mother’s pet goat. 
 
“Yes-,” glancing back at the stall, an older man now behind it. The box still nested in his arm. Yet, for the life of him, he could not remember what Ganymede had given him. The box was shut firmly.
 
“Ah, it’s a surprise for you-,” he said this, but Patroclus’ brows wrinkled. He had appeared not even to have noticed the box before he attempted to say. Ganymede appeared in the crowd, shaking his head. Patroclus and Alex could not see it. Flustered, he purchased Patroclus and Alex's new jewelry. 
 
Patroclus gave him a questioning look but ultimately let the matter drop, which he was grateful for. Alex preened at his new armbands and bracelets. He, too, was much happier after the meltdown over that stupid boy. Speaking of which he was hunting that child down, How hard would it be to find a blue-eyed youth?
 
Alex was far ahead of them, the kid trailing after him nibbling at his tunic. Eugh. Creepy goat.
 
Patroclus lingered at his side, his steps growing slower and slower. Achilles slowed with him, wrapping his arm around him.
 
“Are you tired, my love?” 
 
Patroclus hummed but said nothing, only continuing to rub soothing circles into his growing belly.
 
“A little,” he admitted after a moment. 
 
“Then we should go,” he started to lift him into his arms when Patroclus stopped him.
 
“I’m fine. We can stay a little longer.”
 
“Patroclus, if you are tired, then we will go. You and our child need rest.” While this pregnancy had been healthy, fortunes could change so quickly. His health had been stable with Alex but had nearly bled to death birthing him.
 
Brown eyes studied him for a moment before nodding, “You’re right. I should be careful.” Especially considering his age, this pregnancy was very high risk. Fingers intertwined with his own, they gathered up Alex and wayward pet.
 
In the distance, the lights of the market grew further and further away. Patroclus watched them fade, leaning into his lover’s chest.
 
“We can always come back if that’s what you’re worried about.” Achilles whispered to soothe him. While he had enjoyed it, Patroclus wanted nothing more for them to be sailing home. Home to Pthtita, where it was safe. But for now, he only nodded, not wanting to ruin their day.
 
The box was pushed to the very bottom of his chest when they returned. Something about it made his skin crawl with unease. 
 
He prayed that he would never have to use it.

________________________________________

Autumn had come, and Patroclus thanked all the Gods that the weather had landed itself to cooler temperatures. Sluggish and sweating, he had been absolutely miserable during summer.
 
It was inevitable that he would need rest carrying a child, but there was a limit. With Alexander, he spent days sleeping when the mood struck him. This time he just felt as if he was listless and weak. These moments didn’t often happen, but all he felt was the cold darkness of blessed sleep when they did. Then the next thing he would know was concerned faces surrounding him. Informed that he had spent another day asleep. Achilles worried that something was wrong, but he assured him that he and the baby were well. But secretly, too wondered, what if something was wrong? What if he and the baby were ill but had not yet realized the danger? No, he had to calm down. Giving into such intrusive thoughts would only serve to make him even weaker.
 
He and the baby were fine; everything was going to be okay. Patroclus placed his hand at the soft swell. His daughter stirred sluggishly, no doubt getting ready to sleep. His heart stirred, his babe. God, how he loved her, how would kill for his children if anyone dared even to think to hurt them.

You are always safe here, always would never let harm come to you. I love you very much, my heart.

This would be the child he was allowed to keep for himself. War would not touch them. Society could try and impose its will, but he would not stand for it. Let them try and take his children from him, and they would have to pry them from his cold, dead body.

Alex marveled at the way his previously svelte mother began to change. It was jarring as his mother had always been lithe compared to his father’s broadness. All of his weight centered into his belly, and each week it grew until a rounded bump was visible.

However, he and his father had noticed something alarming; the more it grew, the weaker his mother became. At first, it started small with him having to rest more due to fatigue. It had gotten to the point that he slept most of the day and most businesses had to be taken care of from bed. Then came the swelling. His ankles had to be constantly elevated, or they would swell up.   
 
They both ensured he was doted on in every way. His father had taken his mother’s drills and some of the paperwork. Alex did the rest with his mother checking it and the medical tent called him instead of his mother. He had learned from the best, after all. His more extensive training would have to wait until his mother was well again. Yet the more his belly grew, the more his mother seemed to fade.
 
Dread was beginning to draw over his excitement of a sibling if his mother died then. What would he do?

Mama, please be alright. I still need you. They need you.

Patroclus often cried lately, which made his son cast hateful glances his way. Achilles loved that his son was so protective of him, but his tears weren’t his fault. His lover’s moods were hardly stable as he got further along into pregnancy. The smallest things set him off and upset him. 
 
His tears would start, and ages would pass before they stopped. He had dealt with all this the last time. Usually, they turned into shouting matches and swearing and ended with them in bed together with whispered apologies into his neck. So when Alex’s scolding face greeted him, he ruffled his hair. Alexander shook him off.
 
“Papa is upset again.” Achilles sighed.
 
“I know,” he said, undoing his helmet, “ What grievance do you have for me this time?”

Alex’s face darkened further, “ Papa woke up strange, with tears running down his cheeks. As if in a trance, he keeps repeating our names. Gods, father, he sounds as if he had seen something horrible. Unspeakable even.”
 
Achilles paused, the wood of the doorway grazing his fingertips. The prophecy? Or the usually dark things Patroclus dreamt of during pregnancy. 
 
“ How long has he been like this?” he questioned, pivoting to face his son. Alex's eyes met the ground before meeting his.
 
“Not long, he was resting finally. The healing tent needed his assistance.” Achilles cursed. They knew better than to ask him to do such things in his delicate condition. Machon especially knew how fragile Patroclus’ health could be.
 
His son caught his expression and grimaced in the same manner.
 
“He goes even when some are not kind to him,” his fist balled up, “ He saves lives, and they have the nerve to say such things about him. Papa says to pay them no mind, but....” The mere thought of someone slandering his kind papa made his blood boil. 
 
“They will be dealt with,” his father cut him off.  And they would. How dare they call Patroclus from his much-needed rest. This pregnancy was already draining on him. 
 
Achilles knelt next to the bed, gently taking Patroclus’ hand in his own.
 
“Love,” he called gently.
 
Patroclus ignored him and continued his chant; his lips had been bitten until they had bled, “ Achilles… Dead….Alexander...Dead... Achilles…Dead...Fault all my fault… Achilles..”

Achilles squeezed his hand, “Patroclus, it's alright. I’m here. Nothing has harmed our son or me.”
 
“Calm yourself, love. Such stresses are not good for your health.” Achilles sat next to him, holding him as tight as possible. “Ssh, it’s alright. I’m here. Don’t cry; it’ll alright. I’m here.” Patroclus clung to his bloody tunic. Achilles continued his rocking and soothing tone.
 
“I’m here. No one is going to hurt our son. ” Achilles swore it.
 
Alex cautiously poked his head in, Achilles nodded for him to come in. Patroclus had finally fallen asleep, his head against his chest.
 
The sheer amount of blood on him should have worried him, but not when Patroclus was so upset. Gods, what had he dreamt this time. Tear tracks were still dried on his face, and even in sleep, his face crumpled as if in pain.
 
“Is he alright?” his son asked quietly. Achilles had to think for a moment. When Patroclus had been carrying Alex, he had behaved quite strangely at times. Throwing tantrums, passionate advances, crying, swearing. Nothing short of terrifying.

“He’ll be fine. He only needs to rest,” in all honesty; he wasn’t sure. Between Patroclus’ headaches, dizzy spells, his swollen feet and hands, and now these nightmares. He worried that this pregnancy was killing him.
 
Alex shuffled a bit more. Achilles held out his free arm to welcome him over. He scrambled into his embrace, looking every bit of his little babe. Who would soon be a man? Achilles kissed his forehead. It felt as if only yesterday, he was holding him swaddled tightly. 
 
“You did well in looking after him,” Alex lit up at his praise, “ I know this has not been easy on either of us, but you have handled this well.” 
 
Alex sighed against him, “ I hate that they are making him so ill. I don’t want him to be sick.” A sentiment Achilles could agree with. If not for the hint of jealousy that colored his tone.
 
Achilles would have chuckled had Patroclus not been asleep.
 
“ He carried you and had the same symptoms. It is a natural part of life; they don’t mean to do it. It is just how it has to be. He will be well, just as when he had you.” Achilles left out that Patroclus hadn’t been this ill when he had Alexander and that the reason he and his newest sibling had such a gap was due to his difficult birth. 
 
“Really?” he asked in amazement. 
 
“Yes. Only you had a penchant for causing trouble, kicking him until he couldn’t sleep.”
 
“ I did not. I would never cause him trouble; I love papa.” His son said this with such seriousness; he couldn’t control the laugh that escape this timed. Patroclus shifted against him. 
 
“ I know you won't.” 
 
“Please don’t leave me,” was Patroclus’ soft cry. More tears streamed down his cheeks, but he was still asleep. Achilles wrapped his arm around him more firmly, and Alex reached for his hand.
 
In their small gestures, they hoped to help ease any evil that plagued him. Never would they leave him.

When he woke with a start, he found Alex asleep at his chest. He was curled nearly over Achilles'. That couldn't have been very comfortable for his love. Gently, he moved off him and settled Alex on the other side. Alex latching onto one of the pillows immediately. 
 
Pff, his baby, loved to snuggle up to whatever was warm. 
 
Achilles didn't stir. Patroclus sat there admiring him for a moment. Brushing a finger over his forehead to move Achilles' curls out of his face. He looked so peaceful, so young. 
 
Achilles’ nose scrunched up; he feared that he had woken him up, only for his face to smooth.

Kissing his cheek and he settled back in the middle of them. His little family. They were safe; he would keep them safe.
 
Lightly his hand stroked at his ever-growing belly, what he had seen wouldn’t come to pass.

Sing, O goddess, the wrath of Achilles…

Achilles decided a hunting trip would be the perfect way to ensure his son still knew he was loved. Jealous little thing, Alex took after him so much it was frightening.
 
Patroclus hadn’t come due to his feet swelling, so off they went. His love looked so pale and weak even with his bright grin. Fresh meat in his system might bring color to his cheeks, and hare was his favorite.
 
They were going hunting because his papa had a craving for hare.

Him being a dutiful son, Alex would only catch the biggest and plumpest one he could find. He and his father would do anything to see him well again. Color in his cheeks. Light in his eyes.
 
Alex hated that his new sibling was making him ill. Nonetheless, his mother was still cheerful. But one could tell it was an act. His face was often drained of color; he could barely breathe at times. It annoyed him to no end when his papa was called from resting to tend to those in the healing tent. Many of which previously mocked him behind his back. Who now called for his aid. Disgusting, they should be grateful to him. If he had any mind, he would render their head from their bodies. Gods, he was beginning to sound like father.

It had been weeks since they had taken the Temple of Apollo, yet the feeling of wrongness had not abated. Even when the Temple to the Goddess Athena had been ransacked, the goddess had forgiven them. This was different; priests and priestesses had been taken for slaves and bed warmers. Agamemnon had no tolerance for claiming prizes that day and took his pick of a young girl. So young, Achilles’ stomach turned, barely his son’s age. Her father shouted her name as he was dragged away, “Chryseis!”

“I swear I will call-,” his shouts stopped when one of Agamemnon’s men chuffed him in the back of the head.
 
Odysseus stopped him before he could even think to argue, “Don’t, son of Peleus, just don’t.” By his tone even he-
 
“That girl is too young. Has he gone mad!” What was his reasoning for defending such a man? All of them knew what lecherous cowards the House of Atreus were. 
 
Diomedes, too looked disgusted, no doubt thinking of his two sons, both carriers.
 
“Stop him, Odysseus,” he interjected at last. Odysseus said nothing, only pushing past them both. So this was the type of man he chose to serve. Achilles spat at his heels. No better than a dog.

_____________

Agamemnon hosted a feast for his newly gained concubine, who he claimed was prettier than his queen. A young girl of nineteen, but Gods she appeared so frail. Achilles had not attended, nor had Diomedes. Neither of them wanted to think about the repercussions of the situation being reversed and their children being passed around like chattel. 
 
“Achilles, what the matter?” his Patroclus asked him so sweetly. Hands resting over his swelling belly, a girl. Gods, his lover thought a girl would be safe from war. No girl would ever be safe in a world with men like Agamemnon and Menelaus. 
 
“Nothing, my love. I’m just tired.” he sighed. Achilles dare not burden him, not now. 
 
“Then come and rest then.” Patroclus led him into the bed, letting him rest against his chest. Today had only strengthened his resolve; he was going to build a world that was safe for his family, for his little princess.
 
“Achilles,” Patroclus called, smoothing his hair, soothing all of his ills away. 
 
 “We burned a temple,” he breathed out at last, “there was…” Achilles closed his eyes. Patroclus. Gods, how could he even begin to say, especially now in his condition. 
 
“You don’t have to say if it pains you.” For once, he couldn’t, and it was more than Patroclus’ delicate condition. He did not wish to give him any reason to think he wasn’t righteous, because even after all these years.

“I-I-I don’t want to say.” Achilles feared that more than anything that Patroclus’ infinity of love and mercy would dry up one day when he saw him for what he was. A monster.
 
One thing was abundantly clear after Patroclus gave birth; they were sailing home. He had enough. The disrespect was one thing, but to see just how callous Odysseus was. He wouldn't trust the man anywhere near his children. Achilles, deep down, knew that when Ipighenia’s blood had been spilled, he should have left, but no ambition for power and glory fed him. Even now, he craved it, wanting to harness it to keep his family safe. The family, his Patroclus, had painstakingly given him.

_________________________________________

His feelings had been confirmed when his mother appeared to him in his dreams, telling him that the God Apollo must be appeased for the desecration of his temples and worshipers. 
 
“
Achilles, gather your priests and have them to…
,” any other time, he would have ignored or cursed her. Yet this time, he let her speak, “
make a great and grand sacrifice to the God Apollo.”
Wondering why she had come, he had no need of her.
 
“Why?” he questioned after gaining his bearings.
 
“
He is greatly displeased by the cries of his worshippers…
”
 
After a moment, she stopped, and they stared at each other.
 
“Thetis-”
 
“
Achilles-
” 
 
Gesturing for her to go first, he waited.
 
“
Apollo’s head priest had come, ransoming to get his daughter back. He offered Agamemnon many treasures of silver and gold, he denied them. Claiming she was too fair for such paltry trinkets.
”
 
Achilles hid a wince. He had violated a basic rule of warfare. If they had the means, they were to be set free. Ah, but Agamemnon was honorless scum. 
 
“ What will happen if we do not?” he asked, as he bore no love for the God of Healing. However, he paid his due for his beloved, who now more than ever needed protection from sickness.
 
“
Then you will suffer as all the rest will…
” with that, she left, and he woke up. 
 
The Sun was just starting to peek around the clouds. Patroclus snored softly at his side. Arms cradled protectively over their child. Kissing his cheek, he went out to make the preparations. His beloved had suffered greatly at Aulis, and he had sworn never again. So even if the price were human blood, he would gladly shed it.

“Papa, please, you have to rest,” Alex flitted around his mother’s side nervously. He was just beginning to look healthier. Feet longer swelling, but his skin still carried the pallor of illness.
 
“Alex, I’m fine now. I just had to rest,” his mother patted his head,” now behave until I get back.”

Alex bit his lip, watching him go. Father was going to be furious when he got the message. Mama was to be in bed resting, not tending to the medical tent. Especially not tending to the ungrateful men who mocked his delicate condition. His blood burned when he heard what those outside their camp called his kind Papa.

Automedon sighed for what felt like the millionth time; it was needless to say that Prince Achilles was furious. Heads were getting ready to roll. Patroclus had snuck out again, and he was working in the medical tent again. By the Gods, the man had a heart of gold but very little self-perseverance. He was carrying the prince’s second child. He, by obligation, should have been in bed resting. But no, he was trapezing about just as freely as before. Only now, it was becoming apparent that the pregnancy wasn’t as healthy as previously thought. 
 
Fatigue, nausea, swelling, and dizziness were common in pregnancy, but the extreme swelling, headaches, and blackouts were concerning. Amarynceus had suffered from similar symptoms after the birth of his tenth child. But in his brother’s case, it was a side effect of having his children so close together. Patroclus had waited between his children, so his risk was higher due to his age. Sigh now more than ever; it was important for him to be on fucking bed rest. He was a healer for the Gods’ sakes; how did he not understand resting and caring for his own body. If his body was not well, how did he expect to care for others? Stubborn, stubborn, his kindness would lead to his downfall one day.

Entering the medical tent was nothing short of a mistake, stomach-turning. Dear Gods not now, quickly he went out. So much for not feeling nausea. Gods, even when he carried Alex, the smell hadn’t bothered him this much.
 
Yet here he was retching the entire contents of his stomach. The smell of sweat mixed with the thick coppery scent of blood and wet bile. Patroclus gagged again, dry heaving. No, this was not the time for this. He had a job to do. Poldarius and Machon needed all the hands they could get.
 
After that, he steeled himself to enter the tent again; entering, he was gently pushed out. Patroclus blinked up at his mentor. Machon was splattered in blood from face to tunic. Even more than that, he looked exhausted. Ten healers could only do so much.
 
Machon took in his bump, “Go home, Patroclus. This is not a place for you in such a condition.”
 
A strange feeling of inadequacy rushed through him. He wasn’t going to let a slight nausea prevent him from doing his duty. 
 
“I'm fine. I just was already feeling a little nauseated.” 
 
Machon appeared to have wanted to argue but refrained. They needed all the hands they could get. Bodies were piling up, and from what he could tell, there was no end to the ill that had come on top of the injured.
 
He sighed one last time before beckoning him back in, “Tell me if it grows too much for you. Your husband would have my head if you overworked yourself.”
 
Steeling himself, he entered the tent, however before it grew too bad, Machon held a cloth smelling of herbs to his nose, “Tie this around your face. It should help with the smell.” Patroclus noted his own, was there some new sickness going around that he was unaware of?

“My love, there is no reason for you to strain yourself. Rest. No one will fault you for it, I swear it.” The last thing his lover needed was to exhaust himself working to save the lives of ungrateful men who were unworthy of his care. However, his Patroclus would hear nothing of it, citing his healer’s oath that every life was worth saving. 
 
Patroclus stumbled while dressing; he caught him just in time.
 
“I’m fine, my love, really I just felt a little weak; it’s nothing.” Patroclus tried to smile; however, he was sure it felt more like a grimace.
 
“I didn’t eat yet-” It was true. He was probably just hungry. Otherwise, he felt fine. The dizziness would pass.
 
“Then eat, you need to,” he said, rising.  Achilles was armed and ready to stuff him with a feast, but strangely he had no appetite. His husband watched him with the intensity of a hawk ready to shove as much food into him as possible. 
 
When he felt a tickle in his throat, almost burning before coughing into his hand. A patch of dark crimson colored his palm. He moved to hide his hand behind his back. However, Achilles was quicker and caught his wrist. 
 
“What is this?” The anguish on Achilles’ face made his heart fall.
 
“How long have you been ill?” Achilles asked, his blood-stained hand still cradled in his.
 
“I don’t know, I had not even been feeling ill until today,” he confessed, and Achilles’ expression fell further. He coughed again, sending more red into his palm. It just kept going, and he felt as his throat was collapsing. His very lungs burned. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, then it passed as suddenly as it had come.

Achilles released his other hand to press his palm to his forehead; he cuddled into it. Chasing the coolness of his hand. When Achilles pulled back, he mourned that relief.
 
“You have a fever,” immediately, he was pushing him into bed and covering him. Just the weight of the blankets alone made him sweat. 
 
“I’ll make you and Alexander ill-'' he couldn’t even finish his sentence with how his coughing started. No more blood came up, but Gods Patroclus was already unwell.
 
“You won’t; you need to rest,” Achilles pressed a kiss to his forehead once more. 
 
Achilles knew exactly where he had contracted the illness, the medical tent. Where else would he have come into contact with what had ailed the other camps? Apollo had no reason to be angry with their people, for they had offered many offerings to his name.
________________________________________________
Patroclus’ illness was even more damning as he was with a child. First, he needed to gather herbs to ease Patroclus’ coughing and fever. Then meet with their priests to make another sacrifice to Apollo so that Patroclus would become well again.

His husband was resting with Alexander looking after him. His next step was to shame Agamemnon into returning his bed slave; this was growing ridiculous. Give the girl back to her father and stop bringing Apollo’s grief upon them. So his lover and child would be well again.
 
He offered no explanation as he stormed into the council, only stopping at the dais, Agamemnon’s robes fisted in hand. Even now, he still feels the phantom warmth of his beloved’s blood on his palm. He had promised him that he would never suffer again and yet had damned him again.
 
“My consort is close to miscarrying my child due to this plague.” Achilles snarled in his face looking every inch a feral beast, “ I promise you, Agamemnon, if he or my child dies, I’ll kill you myself. It will be as slow and painful as possibly this much I can promise you.” He would strip the skin from his bones, his limbs from their sockets, all while he still breathed.
 
Achilles’ golden locks whipped as he left the tent. The men began whispering among themselves.

“Aristos Achaion’s consort is ill.”

“The Gods are against us…”

“An ill carrier is a sign of misfortune. We have displeased Zeus.”

Agamemnon could stand their whispering no longer.
 
“Enough, I dismiss all of you,” he bellowed. The room was filled with the sounds of men leaving, but a few cast hateful glances at him.
 
Damn that brat and his whore. He held all of the authority here; there would be none that would dare to tell him what he should do.
 
Yet, if he allowed that upstart to continue soon, they would turn to him for guidance. If he was not allowed his bed slave, then someone would simply just have to go without.
 
After all, whom did Achilles love more, his slave or the bearer of his child?

More of the days passed the same, with illness ravaging his Patroclus. Why must he suffer? Apollo had gotten his cattle offering. What more did he want? He had made his private offering despite his feelings towards God. Three offerings: what more would it take for his husband to be well. 
 
Crimson coloring their sheets and drying at the corner of his beloved’s pale lips. His lover and child were dying right before his eyes, and there was nothing he could do. All he could do was wipe the sweat from his skin, praying that his fever broke soon. Patroclus rested his hand over his bump.
 
“It’s alright, little one, it’s alright.” he rasped out. Achilles didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had felt no movement from their child in the days since his illness. Their child was gentle, but even then, there would have been some shifting. Something. Anything. Something had to give. 
 
If animal sacrifices hadn’t worked, there was no choice but to move on to… he prayed it would not come to that. But if it did.
 
Patroclus grasped his hand, “Achilles, Achilles don’t!” He startled before remembering his beloved was in the throes of fever.
 
“Don’t they want you to? They want you to wage war. Blood…” Stifling his tears, lacing their fingers together all the more firmly. 
 
“Blood. Wrath. Achilles”
 
“Don’t!”
 
Kissing his hand, he promised that whatever plagued him in his dreams wouldn’t come true. He needed to do something. Anything
 
“I’ll return, my love.” This was enough he could no longer bear to see his lover in pain. With that, he left.
 
Alone Patroclus let the tears fall.
 
“It’s too late, my love. Too late.”

_________________________________________

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Blood onto blood. There were only so many ways in which debt could be paid.

Agamemnon had given the girl back, but in exchange, he wanted something. No, rather someone.

In the end, sacrifice was sacrifice. Though not of blood but virtue. Achilles would grow to regret that cruelty, not because of her. Never her but because of the heavy price in which he paid.

_______________________________________________________________________

On the way to the main camp, Achilles was stopped by a squad leader. Agamemnon was returning his concubine to her father. Apollo surely would be pleased now. His Patroclus would be well. Their child would be safe.
 
The man was still waiting for something. What he did, he didn’t know.
 
Achilles was growing impatient, gritted out a “What?”
 
“My lord, there is something you should know,” he said at last.
 
“Speak!” His patience was shot. The man shivered ever so slightly. All of them knew of his patience, especially now that their beloved Prince Consort was ill.
 
“Agamemnon has agreed to give her back only if…”
 
“If what-” his temper was razor-thin. 
 
“Your Highness, he wishes to speak with you about the situation.”
 
Achilles all but hissed this time, “If he is giving her back, what does he need to talk to me about it.” 
 
The squad leader shrunk further into himself, “He wishes to take another concubine to replace her,” - he gave another breath, “ and he wishes to take Briseis.”
 
His blood boiled at the very notation of disrespect Agamemnon wished to convey. While the other women in his camp were married or concubines, only Briseis remained alone. Of her own choice, not that many hadn’t tried to win her favor. She turned them all down as she only had eyes and heart for his Patroclus. Because of this, whispers had sprung up that he and Patroclus shared her as a lover. Never mind that he would rather rip his own heart out than ever see her with his beloved. So, this was how he sought to humiliate him using such a rumor. Yet it was on the mark for the despicable House of Atreus who knew nothing of honor and decency.
 
Oh, how he regretted the very day Patroclus laid eyes on her. How Achilles longed to curse his lover’s kind heart but couldn’t. His spirit of boundless compassion is one of the reasons he had fallen for him. 
 
His squad leader had long departed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 
 
Mulling over his choices, if he had to choose between them. Patroclus would win every time, as others were replaceable, but he wasn’t. This was almost like Aulis, except this time, it would push him toward eliminating Agamemnon for good this time. The path to godhood was not one without a bit of blood spilled.

___________________________________________

Unbeknown to Achilles, the first choice had been made, but its price yet to be known.

______________________________________________

Achilles was given two days to prepare her for him. Agamemnon may laugh now, but all this served to do was make him seem like a tyrant. More so than before.
 
He was allowed his short-lived victory for now but oh how he would regret it.

____________________________________________

Slowly but surely, his husband was becoming well again. His cheeks were no longer damp with sweat from fever. Dark eyes were glossy still, but they were seeing him as opposed to seeing through him. Patroclus his Patroclus. He wasn’t going to lose him; he couldn’t.

“Achilles,” he croaked, gesturing for him. He was prepared with water in hand. When he felt a little stronger, a cool wipedown.
 
Helping him hold the cup as he drank his fill. Achilles poured him another two cups.
 
“How are you feeling,” he asked at last. Patroclus sighed, resting against his shoulder. Achilles contained a frown. His skin was a bit warm. Mentally he made a note to increase the next dosage of medicine. 
 
“Better but tired.” He was so warm; he felt so safe. His Achilles would never let such evil occur.
 
“I dreamt of such scary things,” he continued,” I’m afraid, Achilles. Something terrible is coming.

I-” He closed his eyes, the swirls of dark smoke as Troy burned, of the scent of metal hanging in the air mingling with screams as they took the city. 
 
Achilles hushed him brushing gently through his curls, “Ssh, my love, it was only a bad dream,” he assured, trying to tamper down his guilt. Something terrible was to happen in a day from now.  
 
“No, it f-,” Patroclus stopped; perhaps it was only a fever dream. Dread settled in his gut; there was something wrong. Something Achilles wasn’t telling him. For now, he would let it go; he needed what little strength he had left to birth his child. A child who hadn’t made her greetings usually would press some part of a hand or foot into his organs. Yet nothing, she was quiet. 
 
His anxiety had only grown. Clasping Achilles tunic in hand, shakily asked, “Has the baby moved any since I became ill?”
 
“She moved earlier, love,” Achilles told him, placing his hand on his bump, “I think you both need rest, though. Rest like our daughter, Patroclus.”
 
At that, a wave of peace washed over him; he trusted Achilles. His lover would never lie to him. There was not a single deceitful bone in his body. Sleep came quickly after that.

___________________________________________

“It’s too early, love,” Achilles said frantically, trying to push him back into bed. Patroclus huffed at him from the edge.
 
“Fresh air will do our baby and me well,” Patroclus said, cupping his hands around his belly. A slight press greeted his hand.
 
 Any day they would hold their daughter. The plague nearly had passed them, giving way to a bountiful if bloody spring. 
 
Agamemnon would pay for the grief he caused not only his Patroclus but all of the Greeks. Over a woman, just as weak to the flesh of women as his brother. Disgusting lecher. Yet today, he would allow this humiliation. 
 
Today of all day, this was the day his Patroclus wished to go out and exercise. Not that he was to deny him anything, but this would cause unneeded stress to him. 
 
“My love aren’t you sure you don’t want to rest?” he pleaded for the last time. Dark eyes peered up at him from even darker lashes.
 
“Achilles, I want to feel the coolness of spring. I’m tired of lying in my own sweat and blood. I need to…” Patroclus bit his tongue in an effort not to say more about how close to death he had been.

“Alright, my love, but don’t overdo it.”
 
Guilt ate slowly at him as his husband weakly gripped his arm. This was the right thing to do. It had to be done. Patroclus’s life hung in the balance. This was the cost.

____________________________________

“PATROCLUS!”
 
Achilles should have known better. She would never go quietly.
 
“PATROCLUS,” Briseis screamed again, throwing herself at his lover’s feet. Hair a mess and tunic crumpled. Bruises of harsh imprints marked against her arms and wrists.
 
Patroclus tried to calm her, but she was crying so hard, it was hard to make out the words.
 
“Agamemnon…..they have come….please...no...mercy,” she sobbed against him. 
 
“Briseis, it’s alright. They won’t hurt you here. I’m it alright, ssh,” Patroclus smoothed, brushing through her curls. 
 
Achilles saw the men coming to capture her. She must have decided that his Patroclus would save her as he did once.  Oh, how his lover appeared like a generous and kind God who answered the prayers of his devoted.
 
Ugliness rose in him, the same that ate at him every time he saw Patroclus with her. The way she clutched at his lover, begging him to save her. She had been lucky; otherwise, he would have dragged her off himself.
 
“Let her go,” he said, to Patroclus, gesturing to the men that had come to take her.
 
Patroclus gapped at him, tears in his eyes, “Achilles, please.” 
 
Achilles wouldn’t look at him. Briseis was yanked away from his legs, Patroclus stumbled at the lost weight, Achilles’ hands kept him steady.
 
His ego, how stupid Patroclus had forgotten how cruel he could be.
 
“Achilles, please don’t do this. It isn’t right. Don’t be cruel, please.”
 
Green eyes searched his, “Isn’t but-”
 
 “

I care nothing for her. She means nothing to me

.

Less than nothing is what he wants to say,

” but he would not dare say such things with Patroclus being so close to labor. He was doing this for him. Agamemnon needed to give the girl back, and besides...
 
He didn’t say that but instead, “It will give me a reason to be rid of Agamemnon at last. We all will be free of him.”

You’ll be well again.

Blinking through tears, he turned from him. Achilles would let her be dishonored for his pride, for a chance to render Agamemnon’s head from his body. It was too much. Patroclus felt sick at the thought.

He couldn’t be willing to hand her over for something as petty as his jealousy. For the Gods’ sake, Achilles,  I’m with your child. You have no reason...none.

“You’re cruel, so unbelievably cruel,” he sobbed.
 
Achilles’ stance softened; he reached for him only to have his hand slapped away.
 
“You promise me anything and everything. Then grant me this, stop this please,” Patroclus sank to his knees, pleading with him, begging him to do something anything.
 
“Patroclus, get up. There is no reason for this.”

She’s a slave

. “Nothing more can be done for her.”
 
“She’s our friend,” he sniffed when Achilles’ green eyes betrayed nothing, “ she is my friend. Achilles, please do this for me.” He had promised him the world, but when he asked for this.

Achilles had enough. Patroclus was heavily pregnant and ill. Lifting him from his knees, Patroclus squirmed in his arms.

“Put me down,” he hissed, tearing streaking his pretty face. Achilles paid him no mind and set him on their bed. Facing him, he knelt at his level. 
 
“Rest, I’ll be back. I have a council to attend.” Achilles kissed his cheek, vainly hoping he would be calm. 
 
Patroclus spit at him instead; he wiped it away. The fire in his eyes burned before they were exhausted by more tears.
 
 “How could you?" he asked, tears streaking his cheeks.
 
“Achilles, don’t let him do this. Please, love. I beg of you,” he called once more, “Don’t be cruel.” 
 
Achilles spared him one more glance as the door closed. Leaning against it, Gods, he felt like a monster. His husband had been on his knees for that girl, crying and begging for her. As if he was... He couldn’t even dwell on it. As if he loved her, that in itself was more than he could bear.

Jealousy churned in his stomach, but something much bigger ate at him. Guilt, guilt that he had broken his promise to his beloved, that anything was his. 
 
It would all be worth it in the end. It had to be.

______________________________________________

Agamemnon had refused to budge on the issue of concubines. In his inflated ego, he was due to his bed slave.  Not that he particularly cared for Briseis. He did so because his lover had asked. Patroclus had once before stated his thoughts on Briseis. Their relationship was platonic. At least from his lover’s side, however, he knows how Briseis truly felt about his husband. How he despised her for it. When he had let the haze of fury fade from his blood, he realized how wrong it was to have him so stressed when he was due any day now. 
 His lover had already been distressed, thinking he didn’t care much for this pregnancy, about this child. Then this wretched plague had taken root, ravaging both him and their child. If this is what made him cruel, then let it. Patroclus would be well soon. He would spill any amount to see him well.
For the longest amount of time, Patroclus laid there, trying to gather some strength to get up and look for Briseis. Surely he could convince Odysseus to speak on her behalf and convince Agamemnon to deliver her back to them. Ah, he forgot that Odysseus looked out for no one to save himself, and a bargain must be struck. A bargain that involved one Prince Hector. War how he hated it. Because it was never just blood and swords, it was the politics. The politics were often more deadly than the blows.
 
Sigh, Achilles was too volatile to be trusted with this. Already he had let her be taken for replacement. All for the sake of his jealousy and injured pride, had Patroclus know this would have fought harder to stop her kiss. Gods, if he hadn’t been so emotional, then perhaps they would not be here now. If he wasn’t pregnant, then…
 
No. 
 
He could never regret his child, whom he dreamed of so arduously. A child conceived in love just as Alex had been. Speaking of Alex how he missed his pouty face, he had seen little of him in his fever hazes.
 
“Alex, my love come here,” he breathed softly. There was no answer; his family was out. Patroclus sighed and resigned himself to slipping into sleep once more. 
 
Perhaps when he woke again, a miracle would fall into his lap. Everything would be better when he woke up.

______________________________________________________

The smell of food woke him sometime later, smelling rich and hearty. Mmh, just like the rabbit stew he had days ago when his lover and son had gone hurting. 
 
“Patroclus,” Achilles greeted him, tray in hand. He reached out to offer his hand. 
 
"Don't touch me," he venomously said, flinching from his touch.
 
Patroclus had no more tears to cry. He was done crying and begging. Achilles' ego was speaking now.
 
"Love, I-." Patroclus shook his head, pushing himself up. Dark spot danced in his vision.
 
"I don't want to hear it. I care nothing for excuses.”
 
Gods, who was this man? He didn’t recognize him at all. This wrathful being. No, that was wrong; he had known all this time. Patroclus had chosen to blind himself, close his ears to Achilles’ faults and wrongdoing. Letting his heart lead him astray.
 
Achilles went to follow him when Patroclus started tilting forward. Casting his arms out caught him in time.
 
"Patroclus, what's wrong.” Achilles asked, cradling him, “What can I do for you?" Sienna eyes met his unfocused. 
 
"Just dizzy, I'm fine," he said, struggling to move from his arms.
 
"Rest, please," Achilles pleaded with him, leading him to bed.

I'm sorry, my love. I'm so sorry for the grief I have caused you.

Patroclus sat up again, fighting the feeling of dizziness.
 
"I'm fine, really," pushing up from the bed. He had to see her, make sure she was okay. That she wasn't afraid, that Agamemnon had not harmed her. Odysseus, he had so much to do...
 
"Patroclus, sit. You can't fool me. I just caught you after you nearly fainted. You aren't. You should rest.” Gods, he hadn’t meant to upset him like so. He would amend this, make it right.

Patroclus weakly pushed him away, “Get out. I don’t wish to be in your presence. It's making me ill.”
 
Achilles stood, obeying him, “At least eat. I rather you be angry with me while your stomach is full,” he said, gesturing to the warm stew and mouth-watering bread on the tray.

Alex waited at the entrance with his eyes teary like his mother’s.

He swept past him to comfort his mother.

__________________________________________

Patroclus sat up slowly and let himself readjust to the way it spun around. It should pass soon as it always has. 
 
A moment after it did, he found the strength to stand and sit at the desk. In what was his shakest hand, penned a message. 
 
Dropping the stylus he prayed that this would be her salvation. 
 
“Deliver this,” he bid one the guards, “to King Agamemnon.”

____________________________________________

Briseis wasn’t quite sure what to expect from Agamemnon; from day one, he had eyed her with lust. Had Patroclus not urged Achilles to save her, she shuddered just thinking about it. Yet here she was in his clutches.

Gods, she could only pray that Patroclus would make Achilles see reason once more…
 
Ha.
 
After what she had done was surprised he hadn’t discarded her sooner. 
 
It had been wrong of her to covet Patroclus for her own, but Gods... However, it wasn’t to be. Achilles had made that clear and, to a lesser extent, Patroclus. So for now, she would have to wait, wait for her salvation or damnation. Either way, she was once again at the mercy of men. 
 
Briefly, she pitied the women and girls who had come before her into Agamemnon’s hands. And quietly prayed for all that had been taken from them, their families, their honor, and most importantly, their freedom.
 
These Greek bastards would one day pay for what they had done to Troy, but that time was in the distant future. A future she would never see.
 
A future where all of Greece would burn to ashes, and their people would know the horrors of having everything taken from them. 
 
Curling further into herself on the small cot, Briesies prayed to Gods she did not know and cursed shadows of people, never fully forming their names. In her madness, she realized the hardest thing to swallow was the sense of betrayal that ate at her core.
 
After everything they had been through, this is how he repaid her loyalty and honesty. And she knew his true reason, and he could explain it all he liked that he was doing it for Patroclus. No, he was punishing her. That’s all it came down to. Punishing her for kissing his husband. Punishing her for…
 
Hadn’t they been friends once or at least somewhat of a family?
 
Perhaps she had hurt him more than she thought if this was how he lashed out. But this was disproportionate in revenge. Handing her to Agamemnon as a living sacrifice, only now did she see…
 
She had been foolish to let her guard down around that beast in human skin.

_________________________________

Enough Achilles had enough.
 
Agamemnon had decided to shame him and his lover both by using Briesies. Wanted to bring him low, onto his level of debauchery. He had let him win at a cost. The cost was he was withdrawing his troops from the Grecian lines. Let them have a bitter taste of defeat before they tasted the sweet nectar of victory. 
 
And as soon as his beloved gave birth, they were sailing for Pthtia. This war had taken too much from him, and if he wanted any chance of redemption from his family. He had to make this right. 
 
“Tell Agamemnon, if he has touched so much as a hair on her head, that I will behead him.” Automedon froze at his words but nodded, jolting the note down on a scroll.
 
“Is that all?” Automedon asked, blinking at him owlishly. Roughly he nodded, and the young man was on his way.
 
Alone, Achilles let himself collapse into a heap. The girl had been given back to her father and hopes the plague goes with it.
 
However, there was a haunting warning that ran in his mind. Before the plague, his mother warned him that the

Best Among the Greeks

was to die before the war’s end. Achilles had initially placed it in the back of his mind because he was the

Best Among All Men

, not just the Greeks.
 
If he died now, Patroclus Gods his Patroclus' heart would be shattered beyond repair. No matter what he had him swear, Patroclus would try to follow him into his prye.

If you were to die, I want our ashes to be mixed in the same jar so that even in death, we are complete.

Patroclus, my love-

I know it will be sometime after you have gone, but I want us together.

Intertwining their fingers together,” Always,” he promised, kissing his fingers.

Achilles closed his eyes tiredly. They had been so young and foolish back then, but now they were older and wearier. Responsibilities had taken their toll on both of them but especially his Patroclus.

_____________________________________

Agamemnon crushed the message. The first message had been right. Touching the girl would have led to his dishonorment and possible beheading. All turning against him for that brat and girl. Chryesies had been much prettier, and had her father not come, surely should be carrying his bastard in her belly. Perhaps he would have made her Queen of Mycenae.
 
Though one, he had to wonder if there was any truth to the rumors that went around.

___________________________________________________

Her days passed quietly with a servant girl coming and going. Her tent was always filled with fresh water and food. She herself was draped in the finest silks and jewels.

Curious as to what Agamemnon planned to do with her, stopped the girl with bright eyes.

Glancing around to make sure no strange ears were listening, he whispered, “Prince Achilles threatened to have him killed if he touched you. Everyone is not happy with him; he withdrew his men from battle. Casualties have increased, and the Greeks are losing….”
 
Her blue eyes appeared to gleam even more, “Prince Consort Patroclus ill and due from having his baby any day now. He is incredibly cross with the prince for giving you without his permission.” The girl grinned, leaning closer as if to get more gossip. Briseis won’t satisfy her craving as such.
 
“It wasn’t like that. He does not….”
 
“The prince is sleeping in a cot in the storage room of their home, and you tell me he doesn't care for you. We all know that you are lovers... And that Achilles tolerates you to please his lover.”
 
That part was true, but why was everyone saying they were lovers? Achilles was too territorial even to begin such an arrangement. And it was a little funny how Achilles had been sent away from his beloved’s arms like a scolded dog, which he was.
 
Briseis pushed away that train of thought, focusing on what this girl was willing to say.
 
“And is his health improving?”
 
Her curls swayed with the movement, “He no longer rises from his bed, too dizzy, and his feet swell constantly. They say the Gods are punishing the prince for his arrogance by making his beloved carrier ill.” 
 
Her heart dropped. Patroclus was possibly dying because of Achilles’ recklessness. 
 
“What else?” Any news she was starving for it, a piece of knowing how her little family was doing.
 
“Prince Alexander is with his mother constantly. The medical tent calls for him, but he refuses them. Cruel like his father…” the girl clicked her tongue, “he blames them for his mother’s previous illness, and now he is dying with his child..”

Briseis did not fault him for this; the medical tent's disgusting men could fen for themselves.
 
Patroclus is not dying, but he would with the guilt crushing his weakened body. She needed to be there if he saw her again. He may grow well again for his and the babe’s sakes.
 
Long after the girl left, she prayed again. Prayed that any Gods listening would spare his and his child’s life.

_______________________________________

The flaps of her tent rustled, and she stared at the king.  He stared back before retreating. Briseis slowly released the breath she didn’t know he had been holding.
 
That had been terrifying; Gods only know what he had been planning to do to her. However, for some reason, he must have remembered Achilles’ threat. Never before had she been so grateful for Achilles’ brutish and callous nature. Agamemnon really was a coward if those words frightened him as such. 
 
Yet she wondered if it would be enough to be returned to Patroclus and Alex’s sides how she missed their smiles.

_____________________________________________

Papa was sick again, and this time, Alex worried that he wouldn’t pull through. Although the plague had gone, this sickness was much worse. 
 
Heartbreak
 
And his father had caused it.
 
The utter despair in his mother’s eyes broke his own heart. 
 
So easily he had given away a member of their family, and for what. No number of threats would stop that man if he let thousands become sick to satisfy his ego. His poor nanny wasn’t any different.  Alex hated to say it, but if it came down between his mother and his new sibling. His father would choose their mother every time because they were replaceable, but his mother wasn’t.  Alex had always known deep down that his father would commit horrible things when it came to his mother. One could only see that he didn’t need to mother would love him regardless of any fault. Yet this time… the sin was too great. Sins were forgivable as long as they did not involve the family….
 
Father just couldn’t see that. He only saw far ahead. A chance to pay back an old humiliation. This was a war. There was no time for posturing. Hubris, no wonder it was the greatest of sins. Pride, not the Gods, was a man’s own undoing.

_______________________________________________________________

“Patroclus, please talk to me,” Achilles pleaded with him, “I will make this right.” Much of their days were spent arguing and pleading. Honestly, he was sick of it. 
 
Patroclus curled further into himself, “You made a choice, and I had to fix it.”
 
“I-”
 
“I- what, Achilles,” Patroclus bit back, You knew what you were doing. What you planned, and you would have let it happen to have your chance. I-”
 
“All for the sake of pride.” No, not pride. He used Hubris, the greatest sin of them all. Achilles couldn’t see that none of this was worth it. None.
 
Gods, if he could have been spared this to see of Achilles’ cruelty in full force. 
 
First, Briseis and now countless men lost to his pride. His Hubris. The thought of it made his stomach turn. Achilles was so divorced from how he was before. This was not the man he had fallen for. Not by a long shot, but…
 
He loved him still. Gods, if that gave him a greater sin than Achilles, then this was his pride. His Hubris.

________________________________________________

Patroclus woke up in a cold sweat. It couldn’t be true. It wouldn’t come true. No please, he couldn’t lose him, not like that. Vengeful, wrathful. It was only a nightmare, just a nightmare. Or had it been prophecy? Tears came once again. It couldn’t.
 
After calming himself and trying to sleep again,  Patroclus found that it was worse. His head hurt, his heart ached, everything hurt. Achilles was so proud of his callous treatment of Briseis. Hadn’t he treated her as a family once? He was so proud of letting men die for his pride. 
 
A sudden jolt of pain made him curl inward.
 
“Argh.” Oh, Hera, it shouldn’t be time yet.

________________________________________________

Sing, O goddess, the wrath of Achilles…

_________________________________________________

Patroclus had shot up breathless as if he had been running a race. His face was pale, but when he reached to comfort him, Patroclus slapped his hand away.
 
“Don’t touch me.” 
 
“I-.” His hand faltered but fell away.
 
“Just don’t touch me.”
 
“ Leave. I don’t wish to see you now.”
 
“My love, please. You aren’t well.”
 
Patroclus sighed tiredly, covering his face with his hands.
______________________________________________________________

Sing, O goddess, the wrath of Achilles…

_______________________________________________
The phrase haunted him. 
 
“Achilles, please just leave. I don’t want you here. Not now, please.” The words held no heat, just unspeakable sadness. Achilles drew back as if he had been slapped. Patroclus was furious with him that much was true but to this extent.
 
“Patroclus, my love, I will make this right for you... You can be angry with me, but please look after your health. I..”
 
He stopped as Patroclus started to cry once more.
 
“Achilles, what you did was horrid. Evil,” he got out in between sobs, “ How could you just hand her over to Agamemnon? He’s a monster. I know you are jealous of her, but you have no reason to be.” Patroclus looked up at him at last.
 
“I love you. Why can’t that be enough for you? Why must you lash out at her?" Patroclus said, lowering his head. His words were but a whisper now, “Why can’t I ever be enough for you? Why can’t I make you happy?"
 
He was at a loss for words. Patroclus had no idea how much he loves him.
 
Achilles cupped his cheeks, "You do make me happy. I’m happy because I have your love. Something that can never be taken from me."
 
Patroclus shook his head gently to free it from his palms.
 
"Your fame means more to you now. Your honor, you would forsake all of it to fulfill what was promised to you. You are never satisfied.”
 
It always had. He had been so blind not to see it. Love made the ugliest faults beautiful.
 
He parted his lips, but Patroclus placed a finger over them.
 
"You and I both knew it was to come to pass, but I did not know it would be like this. How cruel it would make you," Tears streamed down his cheeks once more. Achilles had sworn that tears would never streak his face due to him again, but he had. He had broken his beloved's heart while he was carrying their child no less.
 
"Achilles-," Patroclus had just gotten his name out when another wave of cramps bearing down on him, then everything went black.
 
“

I never am.

” was his last thought as he caught him.

When he came back aware, the pain came with it. It was time; only now he felt so tired and weak. Everything was falling apart, and he felt the overwhelming sense that he might die. Gods, if he died, then everything would come true, Achilles’ heart would harden further. There would be nothing to be done. People would be caught in the crossfires.
 
He needed to survive….
 
Not just for Achilles but their children, Alex was still young and this child too.
 
“Get the healers here, now!!” Patroclus heard Achilles shout, but it sounded far. Dim almost, was he miscarrying again? Was his little one okay?
 
Something warm grabbed his hand; out of reflex, he squeezed back. 
 
“Patroclus, I’m sorry. If you can hear me, please come back to me. I would be lost without you.”

He felt too weak to respond, but he squeezed back.
 
Another set of hands maneuvered him, rough and cold—nothing like Achilles’ warm ones.
 
“Achilles,” Patroclus drew the strength to call for him faintly. And for a moment, it was quiet.
 
“Achilles,” he called again, this time he heard the healer tell him to leave.
 
“Your highness, you must leave. We need space to work.” 
 
“No, I won’t leave him….” Achilles’ voice grew further and further away. 
 
“Your highness, we may lose him. Please.” At that, his heart squeezed painfully, no he wasn’t dying here. 
 
Not today. Weakly he tried to push himself up. He had to survive. Or at least hold out until Machon got here. 
 
Another wave of teeth-gritting pain swept through him. This time it came with wetness. His water had broken.

____________________________________

Briseis continued on her path, trailing behind the two men escorting her back to camp. On their shoulders, they carried chests filled with gold. Ha, Agamemnon was truly a craven to think mere treasures would placate him. After all, he had done. Well, at least she was going home to look after her family. Patroclus just needed to see her, and then all would be well again.

When she heard the whispers between them.
 
“Prince Consort Patroclus has gone into labor….”
 
“Labor that had lasted for nearly two days, he is dying, they say.”
 
“Achilles will surely be in a foul mood.”
 
“Foul mood?” the other man scoffed, “try murderous.”
 
“Ah..true…”
 
Her feet acted before her brain. He needed her. They needed her.
 
“Wait!!” one of the soldiers called, but she was too far.

____________________________________

After Alexander’s disastrous birth, Achilles made sure he was prepared for anything with healers and priests at hand. Still, nothing could prepare him for the way Patroclus’ screams of agony rang out through the camp.
 
Wail after wail of just endless agony. Gods, each one pierced his heart. He had caused this suffering all of it.
 
 The chanting of the priests intermingling with the screams of his beloved was driving him mad, and all he could do was the pace. Alex curled into his side as they waited for news. Another healer exited with another large bowl filled to the brim with bloody water. This had been the third one.
 
Gods above, when was his agony to end. The last day and a half, he and most of the camp had been subjected to this. When his Myrmidons passed him, they bowed their heads in respect.  Patroclus’ labor was now verging on a second day; something was very wrong. Every time he went to see him, he was shooed out by healers or a midwife. When he did glimpse his beloved’s face, he appeared to be verging in and out of consciousness. It didn’t help that his son was crying for his lover.

“Papa, I want papa,” he sobbed against his tunic. Achilles had to soothe both his child and his troubled mind. From the start, this pregnancy had been complicated for him. So foolish he had been not to heed the warnings, now his lover and child would suffer for it.

“I know you want papa, but he isn’t feeling well at the moment. I promise he’ll see you when he is well,” he stroked his hair.

“Is Papa going to die?” his son asked, pulling away from his hand. Achilles’ face drained of color.

“No, no, of course not. Papa is just ill. He’ll get better,” he didn’t know if the words were for his benefit or his son’s.

“He’ll get better,” he uttered once more, feeling lost. 
 
 Alexander was fighting to get free, hitting and pulling at his hair. He paid no mind to him. Alex had gone to his lover’s side, further upsetting him. Patroclus was in enough pain without their son crying into his chest.
 
When he couldn’t get down, Alex fought even harder to get down. Achilles held him even tighter.

“
Alexander, stop it
. You will see papa when he is well. He is too weak to care for you.”

He hated to be so sharp with their son, but Patroclus was in no condition to comfort his crying child. Alex stopped his struggle at that, his eyes filling with tears.
 
“Papa is going to die, and I’ll never get to tell him how sorry I am.” his son sobbed even harder against him. Achilles had made a grave mistake in his words. 
 
His sobs and screams echoing, Achilles finched. If he could hear him, he was sure Patroclus could listen to their child’s cries.
 
“No, no ssh. He will be fine, just tired, Alex.”

“

The babe is coming wrong,” a healer whispered, “its feet are stuck. There is too much blood….”

Another hit him, “Hush if the prince hears that, he’ll kill us all.”

Weakly, Patroclus sat up or tried to sit up. The healers at his shoulder gently pushed him back downwards. His child needed him; no matter how old he claimed to be, he still needed him. 
 
Gods, this hurt, and he wished it was over. If only he could be on his knees again, surely labor would go much faster.
 
His healers had been sent from their homeland and, if he was honest, felt as if they were killing him. His labor was verging on what felt like days but not as if he could tell, coming in and out of consciousness.
 
Gods, this hurts.

“Achilles,”

he prayed, “

please.”

Gritting his teeth smothered another scream. What in the Gods’ names had possessed him to let Achilles knock him up again? If he survived, Achilles was permanently banished from his bed.

It wasn’t as if his heart had been betrayed by him already.

__________________________________________________

Briseis watched Achilles pace with his son at his side. They all flinched when another yell broke out.

Alex cried even harder, and his father tried to comfort him. This was the price of his jealousy and arrogance. Patroclus had to suffer for it, as he always had. 
 
Alex’s features were his father, but Patroclus’s gentle nature shone through. She would offer her assistance in any way she could, for Patroclus’ sake and her little prince.

“May I take him away for a moment,” she politely asked. Achilles blinked at her in surprise. Whatever hatred they held for each other, she hoped they could put it aside for Patroclus.

Achilles nodded and led him into her arms. Alexander made an aborted attempt to run to Patroclus, but she caught him. Struggling to contain his bulk, he had grown since she last held him.
 
“Don’t set him free, or he’ll try and run to Patroclus’ side,” he told her, finally free to barge in and see what state those incompetent healers had his husband in. 
 
The scent of blood that overwhelmed him had him gagging. The smell of it wasn’t fresh; it reeked of infection. 
 
Good Gods, no wonder they hadn’t allowed him in. Patroclus’s face was flushed with a fever. The sheets were stained so red that one would think they had always been that color, two healers supported him, and another glanced between his legs. The two at his husband’s back faces paled.

“Your highness, you are not allowed in here during the birth,” one informed him as his lover gave another groan of pain. The volume of his pain had grown quieter. They were killing him.

“I’ll be here, if I please,” casting another glance around the room. More bloodied sheets and bowls lay around the room. Had he known they would have his lover in peril, he would have delivered the child himself. These idiots had his husband and child both in danger.

“
Get OUT
,” he snarled at them. For a moment, they shook in his presence.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he added after they didn’t move. This time they scuttled out like rats. At that, he quickly called for Automedon to bring him, Machon.

“Oh, my love, what have they done to you?” he grabbed a clean bowl and cloth to pass across his face. Patroclus’ eyelids weakly fluttered.

“Hurts,” was the only thing he replied with. Achilles nodded, praying it wasn’t too late.

“Sit up for me, my love,” he was going to support his love from the front. Patroclus weakly drew himself into his arms. At the rate things had gone, it was implausible that the child would survive. Deep down selfishly, he was okay with that, as long as Patroclus came out of childbirth unharmed. But praying that was not the case, it would break his lover’s already fragile heart.

Even if he hadn’t been as healthy as his previous pregnancy, Achilles could still see how in love he was with the babe, how he hummed to his swell and spoke in quiet tones to her. Patroclus was convinced they were having a girl, and he indulged him.
 
 A little princess, slowly he grew to love the very idea. Gods, what would he do with a girl? She would be twice as spoiled as Alexander, and he was a menace already. A girl with Patroclus’ lovely smile and laughter, they would have to fend off her suitors by droves. Not to mention her dowry, only the best for his princess. What could he teach her? He, himself, had hated the drudgery of women's work on Skyros. So she would learn to hunt, spar, and ride horses. It didn't matter if no suitable man would marry her. He hoped none would dare.

_____________________________________________

“Your highness, we may have to cut him,” Machon told him as a midwife mopped at Patroclus’ brow. He was quieter now, only whimpering ever so often how he hated to see him in any pain.

“He can’t last like this much longer. The babe is struggling too.”

Achilles closed his eyes resigned.

“Will it hurt him?”

“It shouldn’t, but..” Achilles heard the implication there.

“But?”

“There is a high chance of only one of them surviving,” Machon explained.

“Save him, save only him if it comes to it.” If that made him selfish and cruel to this child, then so be it.

Machon’s mouth twisted, but he nodded, “I’ll do my best.”

________________________________________________________

“Push one last time, Patroclus.” a voice told him.
 
“Push if you want to live!!!”
 
Chiron? Patroclus turned his head to see the vague outline of their teacher.
 
“Teacher?” he croaked. 
 
“Your child’s life depends on it!”
 
His baby?
 
Oh, his baby
 
Bearing down with the last of his strength prayed it was enough. Then what little consciousness he had slipped away.

________________________________

A boy.
 
 Achilles marveled at his newest son. Perfect in every sense skin and hair dark like Patroclus’. Cheeks soft and rosy, arms and legs chubby. Gods, he was beautiful, so beautiful with a perfectly healthy set of lungs—feisty little thing.
 
A few of his handmaidens were cleaning up Patroclus. Another beautiful child they had been blessed with. Ah, he hoped Patroclus wouldn’t be upset by their little one being a prince instead of his little princess.
 
“Patroclus,” Achilles called softly when he saw he was refitted in clean clothes and sheets.
 
Patroclus turned his head slightly. “Can I hold her?” he slurred. He moved softly in fear of waking their little one.
 
Achilles pondered if he should even move. His head and legs were being elevated to prevent any further bleeding or distress.
 
“Him, love.” Patroclus hummed.
 
“Him then.” At this moment, he couldn’t tell if he was resigned or disappointed. This was what fate had dealt them. There wouldn’t be another child born after this. 
 
“You shouldn’t move too much. It may aggravate you….”
 
“I’m tired, love, but I want to hold him. I have spent hours laboring him. I need to see that he is well.”
 
Achilles sat next to him, propping him up but refusing to let him sit up.
 
“I’ll sit as close as I can for you to hold him without you getting up. Patroclus, please don’t move. You could start bleeding again.”
 
Patroclus all but hissed, “ And whose fault is that those incompetent healers had me giving birth on my back as opposed to my knees, bastards.” 
 
Gods, Patroclus didn't need to get worked up. Achilles was going to make sure they paid dearly for their mistakes. Right now, he would simply be thankful he and this child made it through labor.
 
“Don’t get upset. It isn’t worth getting upset. I’ll take care of them.”
 
“I could have died and our child too. If I weren’t in this bed, I would rip them to shreds….fuckers.”

Achilles raised an eyebrow. He hadn't heard Patroclus swear in a while.
 
 “As much I would like to see you do that, you need to rest, and so does he."
 
Patroclus smiled softly, all of his anger draining in a flash " Hmm, I'm sleepy.…."
 
Achilles kissed his forehead," Then rest."
 
“M’kay,” he slurred, getting lost in sleep. He hadn’t even held their child.
 
Stretching out, a hand felt the heat emanating from his forehead. Another fever? Gods.

____________________________________

Achilles cooed at his son, beautiful like his Patroclus. Brushing his finger over his soft cheek, smiled when a tiny finger reached around to grip it. 
 
Acknowledging the figure in the doorway, “Briesies, come in, don’t linger.” he ordered. She met his eyes, not at all concealing the hate in them. 
 
He held the infant out for her to hold. Patroclus’ fever was rising once more. Alex was too overwhelmed to help him. Besides, this was her sole use to him now, after all his Patroclus had gone through for her. This was the least she could do.
 
“You could have killed him, getting him pregnant again,” she hissed, taking the dozing infant. “Even if you are jealous, don’t make him suffer for it.”
 
Achilles refrained from rolling his eyes, “He was already with a child when I found out you were trying to stake a claim on him. Tell me what you thought he would have said after that kiss.

That he would make you his wife, you would bear his children. Tell Briesies. I’m curious about what made you so reckless. Reckless enough to kiss my husband, knowing full well what I would do if I caught you.

” a fraction of power slipped in this voice.
 
She hasn’t even flinched in the face of it, “He wouldn’t have allowed you to hurt me. Try as you like Achilles. I’m not afraid of you.” 
 
“Because I see you for what you truly are.”
 
“I despise you, and I hate the day Patroclus ever set his eyes upon you.” he hissed back.
 
Briseis snorted.“Argue with me another time. Patroclus isn’t well. When he is, you’ll have all the time in the world to make your possessiveness known to all.” she retorted, opening the door.
 
“Wait, where are you taking him?” 
 
She shrugged, “He needs a wetnurse. Patroclus’ body is not well enough to feed him.”
 
His son fussed a little but didn’t wail. Briseis cooed at him.
 
“What a calm baby you are, just like your mother,” she hummed slightly to the infant, “A beauty you’ll grow to be like him.”

Beauty

“There is a goat; get him milk from it.” Achilles ordered, still milling over that snippet.
 
They had discussed the child’s name if they were to be a girl but never a boy. Kallias would be a good fit for him. A tribute to his Patroclus and the precious gift he had given him.
 
When Patroclus was well-rested, they could further discuss the possibilities of his name. But Kallias fit so well. As if it was fate.
 
“Patroclus will want to feed him when he is well enough. He won’t allow anyone else to.” He finished realizing she lingered at the doorway.
 
“Of course,” she inclined her head, “my lord.” The address felt more like a curse than anything.

Machon had come by to check on Patroclus, whose fever had broken a little past dawn, but he worried about him long after. Patroclus had been in labor for nearly two days and had lost a lot of blood. And he was to be on bed rest until he seemed more flush with health. Recovery would be a long road, and from the look in Machon’s eyes, Patroclus had once again faced Death and won. There would be no fourth time. Not again. He had all he needed. His youngest son stirred slightly in his cradle. Gods, he was so chubby, chubbier than Alexander had been. 
 
 No matter, hours old, and already he held his heart. Achilles tucked the blankets around him further so he wouldn’t catch a chill. Patroclus had given him such precious gifts that he was unworthy to hold.

_________________________________

Achilles should have killed them for what they had done, yet Patroclus simply stated for them to be sent elsewhere, “Few have attended a pregnancy like mine, my love. Spare them I do not need to overshadow such a joyful event with bloodshed.” 
 
For all of his lover’s threats, he spared them with his kindness, so they were sent to train under Machon’s strict eye. Last he heard, they were strictly on potions and bandaging.

Patroclus still wasn’t well but was recovering.

__________________________________

“Patroclus-”

“Mmh, let me sleep..” he grumbled, batting the hand away. Achilles sighed but set the tray next to the bed.
 
“You have to eat, get your strength up again…” Achilles said in the vain hope of coaxing him up.
 
“Patroclus, we haven’t even named our son yet…” he pleaded now. Patroclus slipped back into sleep.
 
Brushing his fingers through his curls, rose. Achilles removed the other now cold tray and hoped his love would be well soon.
 
“Papa,” Alex called, barreling in, as usual, startling the babe. 
 
“Alex,” he hissed, and his son quickly took the fussing child out with him. Achilles huffed a breath of exhaustion.
 
Sighing, knelt to kiss his cheek, his darling heart. Gods, how he had wronged him. Torn his heart out. How would he ever restore his love and trust?

___________________________________

Alexander bounced his wailing brother in his arms; by the Gods, he was heavy. It was a small wonder his mother was still so ill. His brother weighed as much as a pig. So fat but also so pretty. Taking all of their mother’s features; dark curls and copper skin. Bright brown eyes, chubby arms, and legs, Hera was he cute. If only he could quiet, their mother wasn’t well enough to care for him yet.
 
He sighed and went to find Nanny and prayed she had the goat ready.

_____________________________________________

“Patroclus-.”

“Hm-” he responded tiredly. Their little one was so greedy when it came to feeding, oh, but he was so healthy.

“Our baby needs a name.”

Pondering the names they had gone over, nothing for a boy. Achilles had indulged him with his thoughts of a girl, but now they had a cute chubby boy. A baby who needed a name.

“Do you have a name in mind?” He had named Alex. It was only fair that his lover gets a chance.

Achilles’ eyes gleamed before he leaned into them, “Kallias.”

“Beauty.” Patroclus parroted.

“Why beauty?” he wondered aloud.

“For you. He is in your image, after all.” Achilles replied, brushing a finger against their baby’s cheek.

There wasn’t enough blood in his body for his blush, but the heat in his cheeks rose nonetheless.

“Kallias,” he tried. The babe who blinked up at him sweetly, his own dark eyes reflected at him.

That settled that then.

“Kallias,” he called again, getting a similar response. So precious, his little Kallias.

“It suits you just fine, doesn’t it,” Achilles commented, kissing his forehead, “a great beauty you have inherited.”

Kallias wriggled at that.

_______________________________________________

A baby’s- no, his baby’s wail jolted him from his sleep. Where was everyone? His baby was alone.  No, he was here. 
 
Oh, his poor little one. Patroclus slowly made his way to the cradle fighting the dizziness that gripped him. It was to be expected after days of recovery.
 
“Ssh, my love, it’s alright, don’t cry,” Patroclus cradling his fussy babe. Sweet babe, his sweet Kallias.
 
“I know you are hungry, oh I know.” Offering him a swollen breast, he resisted before suckling it greedily. Good, at least he wasn’t picky like Alex.
 
“
So, you have borne my son yet another bastard
,” a voice sneered. His heart fell as he tried to shield cradled Kallias in his arms as best he could. Patroclus was tired and weak, but for his baby. Her coal-black eyes cut through him. She smirked, casting her eyes on his baby, “
In doing so, you are weak. Birthing him nearly killed you.
” 
 
“He isn’t a bastard.” Regardless of what she had to say, Kallias and Alexander were as legitimate as Pyrrhus. 
 
“
He and his brothers crawled out from different wombs. One belonging to a princess and the other…
,” she paused dramatically, “
nothing.
”
 
Always with the fucking theatrics, by the Gods, he saw where Achilles got it from.
 
“
You will die, Patroclus, but today Fate smiles upon you.
” With that, she was gone.
 
“We all will die someday,” he returned solemnly to the air. If he hadn’t felt so tired, he would have cursed her instead.

____________________________

The ceremony was starting soon, and he still wasn’t ready. Alexander was dressed in a green tunic of green that further brought out his emerald eyes. His hair was pulled up similarly to his father's, two braids at the temples before falling into a ponytail. His arms fitted with the armbands that had been fitted for him and bracelets jingling at his wrist. Kallias was wrapped in a blue silk blanket with a simple white tunic wrapped around him. Patroclus had yet even to dress, beginning to feel fatigued. Yet, he could not miss his baby’s naming ceremony.
 
Patroclus passed Kallias to his brother while he worked through his fatigue to tame his hair and dress. 
 
Alex hefted Kallias in his arms, “Papa, he is so heavy.” Kallias gurgled, hands reaching for his brother. 
 
Patroclus had to agree. After all, birthing him had nearly killed him. It seemed that most of the pregnancy weight had gone to his chunky babe, who was all rolls and healthy cheeks. 
 
“That just means he is healthy.” His curls were pulled back into a messy braid. It would have to do. He was too weak to do more. 
 
Alex wrinkled his nose, reaching to play with the tiny hand, “A lumpy thing, he is. So heavy...” 
 
“Don’t be mean to your brother. You were just as chubby as a babe if not chubbier.”
 
“No, I wasn’t!” 
 
“Ask your father; he’ll tell you. Speaking of which, your father was quite the chubby baby I heard.”
 
Alex pouted but was too enthralled with his brother to argue. He was still a little jealous that his mother’s attention had been taken from him. But his brother was truly too cute to be upset with.
 
“I’m just saying… he is somewhat fat,” he phrased it as nicely as possible. After all, fat or not, he was his little brother. 
 
“But you love him, don’t you.” 
 
“Of course, I do. He is just so heavy, and my arms are tired.” Patroclus laughed a little, taking his sweet baby from him, cuddling him. Kallias gurgled happily.
 
“It’s alright, my love, you’ll grow out of it,” he whispered to the happy babe. Kallias wasn’t a picky eater like Alexander. He never missed a chance at his breast. He was always hungry, which meant he was healthy and growing as he should. 
 
 A wave of dizziness washed over him; Patroclus had to grasp at the table a moment. He couldn’t get weak, not with Kallias in his arms.
 
Something was wrong in an effort not to make his mother feel as if he was pitying him. He stretched his arms out.
 
“I thought your arms were tired.” 
 
Alex snorted, “I was only joking, mama. He’s so cute. I can’t help but want to cuddle him.”

Patroclus let him take him, and only when Kallias was in his arms did he realize Alex had called him “mama.” He only did that when he was particularly distressed or whining about not getting his way.
 
Alex gazed at him as if he saw right through him just as he had done when he was young, “Are you feeling okay, mama?”
 
Patroclus grinned, “I’m fine, I promise- ah, I’ll finish getting ready.” Alex tilted his head at the way his mother’s hands trembled, yet his mother had pride. Never one to let him or his father worry about him, stubborn. He would just have to monitor him and tell his father that not all was going well with his mother’s recovery.
 
Kallias gurgled again; his brother just adored being held. Alex cradled him a little more in the crux of his elbows; by Gods, he is a heavy thing. Thankful he had some training, or else he would be struggling. 
 
“You’re so chunky, but you’re my little brother,” Alexander whispered, kissing his forehead, “always.” Just what he wished for a cute little brother, but at what cost?

________________________________________________

What should have been a joyful event was overshadowed by doubt and ill feelings.
 
Patroclus was well now, but his heart was closed to him; by the Gods, it hurt. However, he had brought this upon himself, reaping what he sowed. Briseis had been returned to him, but his lover’s trust in him was gone. So, what if he had shaken Agamemnon’s confidence and dared him to touch what was his. 
 
He hadn’t cared that he wanted Briseis; it was the principle of wanting someone whom those around him deemed important. To his Patroclus. To his Alexander. 
 
And in letting jealousy and arrogance blind him, he lost the trust of the ones he loved the most.
 
Compared to the years past, Kallias’ naming ceremony wasn’t as grand as Alexander had been. It wasn’t from a lack of means, but the spirit of celebration was marked with blood and betrayal.

His Patroclus had not forgiven him. The Myrmidons had not forgiven him for pulling them from the battle and denying them glory and riches.

Illness had ravaged the other camps, and while they had been spared with the sole expectation of his Patroclus whom Apollo targeted. Achilles knew that his beloved had been the target because neither he or Alex fell sick after caring for him. Patroclus, his heart who sat passively at his side, playing with the tiny fingers of their baby. Even though his exhaustion was clear, his beloved did not lean on him. 
 
“Are you tired, my beloved,” he asked even if he saw it so plainly. Patroclus had his pride, after all.
 
“I’m not,” Patroclus replied primly. 
 
“We can retire if you want to rest,” Achilles tried again.
 
“I’m fine,” his lover bit out, adjusting their child. Kallias wiggled but didn’t cry out, content just being held.
 
“Alright.”
 
Turning his attention back to the party realized that Agamemnon’s inner circle had yet to appear. Achilles thanked the Gods for small mercies… they would only come to discuss their losses and persuade him to return to the battlefield. They could rot for all he cared.
 
“Your Highness, King Diomedes is here…” a herald announced rather nervously. Ah, and so it began.
 
Patroclus hadn’t spoken, but he felt him shift.
 
“Achilles,” he called a moment later.
 
“Yes, my love?”
 
“I’m retiring for the night. I'm tired.” Patroclus told him, standing, Kallias bundled firmly at his chest. Achilles’ mind reached out before he remembered, finger faintly teasing his wrist.
 
Any other time he would have kissed him goodnight, but now left between them was hurt. Patroclus Gods if he would take back every drop of blood and every cruel word uttered. 
 
“Goodnight, then” Achilles let his fingers fall away, and Patroclus was gone. Alex came and sat next to him after a moment before glancing around.
 
“Where-”
 
“He went to rest,” Achilles finished for him. His son’s eyes widened in alarm before he was scrambling up.
 
“Father! Mama isn't so well. He nearly fell with Kallias in his arms earlier; he…” his son said nothing else before scrambling to catch up with his mother and ensure he is well.
 
At that, he too was getting up, Patroclus. Gods, his Patroclus.

_________________________________________

“And the Sun comes from….” Patroclus hummed to his baby, placing him in the cradle. Kallias held an arm out, but he gently tucked him into the blanket. Oh, his sweet babe.
 
“Sleep now, my little one, may all your dreams be filled with warmth and love,” he promised, kissing his forehead.
 
“Patroclus-” Patroclus ignored his call. Honestly, he was tired from labor; that was all there was nothing more to it. After Alex, he had been unwell, but it all boiled down to his hips and the size of them. Chiron had warned him that having Achilles’ children was dangerous, but he hadn’t listened. 
 
“Yes, Achilles,” he said, at last, turning to face him. 
 
“You should be resting. You aren’t well. A-” Achilles stopped. Patroclus wouldn’t be pleased if he knew Alex was reporting to him.
 
“I just tired Achilles, I just had a child, a feat that should have killed me all things considered,” he snapped back.
 
Achilles winced as if he had been slapped.
 
“But it didn’t.” 
 
“It didn’t,” Patroclus returned coolly.  Were things so icy between them that he gave no care to his health? It hurt more than a thousand daggers, a pain that ate at his soul.
 
“Goodnight,” his lover said, sweeping past him. Alex gave him a scornful look as he and Patroclus settled in their bed. Achilles resigned himself to sleeping on Alex’s small and cramped bed once more.

__________________________________________________

In the days that followed, there was an eerie calm as he healed. The same calm as before a great storm. Thetis’ appearance a few nights ago had not helped, and he hadn’t told Achilles. Why? Because there was no point, it would only serve to aggravate him.
 
They had exchanged few words after he had broken down and told him what he thought of his pride and his own inadequacy in the face of it. By Hera, he flinched, still thinking about them. Achilles-his Achilles. He had never meant to hurt him as such, but things he was doing all in the name of glory. They were wrong. This was not the way, oh but deep down, he knew.
 
So many had told him the same,

Odysseus, “He is a weapon, a killer. No matter how much you love him. Regardless of how many times you let him fuck you, you can’t prevent his destiny. He will become a slaughter of men. Deep down, you know this.”

Briseis, “Monster.”

Patroclus took a deep breath to center himself, and if that was true? He had known but had vowed to love Achilles through it. But at what cost? What was the result? He already saw what he was willing to do. Morals had eroded for them all but now bargaining with lives. By the Gods that was hypocritical of him, he hadn’t cared about everyone else, but when it came to his friend. He raised Hell. Trojans were dying, and so were Greeks. Especially now that the Myrmidons were pulled from the field, any day now, they would come crawling to beg his Achilles’ forgiveness. And his Achilles, in all his pride, would not help them. He would see them all burn if only to fulfill his godhood. 
 
Just the other day, Agamemnon had sent him loads of treasure to try and win back his favor. Achilles would not be swayed after such a grievous insult. So this was the end, wasn’t it?
 
All that he had seen in his dream was to come true. Yet what of his and his children's future? Patroclus had only dreamt of Achilles’ rage as he hunted poor Prince Hector down and when he caught him.
 
By the Gods, his blood had run cold by the look in those emerald eyes. So filled with hatred, such rage. Just thinking of it made him nauseated. What had Hector done to receive such a look?

_____________________________________________________

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

A soft call lured her to those accursed shores, where he waited. Not her grandchild this time but her child. Her Achilles. Oh, how she had waited for this day for so long. Her child, her beloved Sun child, had come back to her arms. How she wanted to embrace him, on the other how she longed to mock him. That slut had turned him away, and he had run back to her arms. Seeking his mother’s love which his cow-eyed whore had no longer wished to give him. “Mother,I-” Achilles’ face turned somber, “nevermind that.” Thetis could barely conceal her excitement. This was the moment. Her son was going to shed the last of his humanity and embrace the ichor of her blood. From this moment, he was to be a God. “No, I shouldn’t have come….” He said, breaking her thoughts and turning away. No, this was the moment. He was ready, finally after years of begging and pleading with him. Achilles was to fulfill his destiny; her little halfling child would ultimately be made whole.“Whatever that had transpired between us, let it rest in the past now.” She said, praying he would not sense her desperation. Twelve years was nothing to a god, and all of his insults were forgiven. He was her son, her only child. All she had left, never would let petty words clouded by hormones ruin that relationship.“Mother no, I can not-” Still so human even now, Gods would have let the past roll off their back like water.“You are my son. I would never let such petty words ruin the fact that I’m your mother and you are my child.” she declared, desiring nothing more than to sweep him into her chest. Soothe all his ills.“Then Mother, is there still a chance for godhood?” Achilles burned at the very thought of it. He wanted to know before he turned his back on destiny. That those who denied him would pay, let the Greeks burn for all he cared.Thetis smiled, “Always, my son.”____________________________________________“Crawling back into your mother’s venomous embrace, I’m shocked but not entirely surprised,” Ganymede muttered, wanting to hurl. Stupid little godling. They were all posed, waiting for his downfall, all except his beloved. Patroclus would soon learn of his folly.But by the Gods, Achilles had no brain. He called himself a leader of the Myrmidons but was content to let others take charge and then sit back. And his descendent had given the brainless idiot two children. By Zeus, those poor children. Ganymede saw promise in the older one but as for the youngest. Would become of him? Flattery was what Achilles chased after, and his ruthless mother would continue to pour poison in his ear now. Should he make Patroclus aware of what Achilles had hidden from him? That little gift would surely turn things right._____________________________________________________“We are going home,” Achilles tells him one morning plainly as if discussing the weather. Patroclus inclined his head. That would be better than this endless limbo. The waiting and politics. The screams and the smell of smoke growing closer and closer.“That would be good,” he replied blandly. What did Achilles seek to gain from telling him? Just do it. He was much too worn to argue with him with a newborn screaming at his chest.Achilles fixes him with an unreadable expression but nodded, “I’ll have the men prepare.” Patroclus bit his lip, refraining from telling him the news.The Trojans had advanced to the point that the ships were in danger of being burned. However, he was sure that Achilles knew that already. Nestor and others had already tried to appease his anger. Agamemnon had gone too far in his slight in taking Achilles’ honor and tarnishing it. What he failed to understand was that he and Briesies were not shared lovers between Achilles. He tried to base rumors that his Achilles was lustful and immoral, and it backfired because he had taken a woman from him. That instance would have turned the camp against him had Patroclus not sent that messenger. Yet rot had set in, and more and more Greeks were testing his leadership as he caused the Great Achilles to retreat to his tent with his consort. Gods, the rumors that sprung up from that were wild. And for the record, Achilles wasn’t sulking between his thighs. They had not shared a bed for a while now, and it would be weeks before he recovered enough to even do half of the things they said. Gossiping women the lot of them.“Ah, hush, my little one,” Patroclus cooed to Kallias, who was whining for his breast. “I just fed you; you can’t still be hungry,” he admonished gently. Evidently, still, he was, oh Kallias. Sweet babe, well, I suppose you’ll grow to be a strong man in the future. He owed the Greeks nothing. Nothing at all. It would be so easy to leave them to the mess of their own making. But his heart ached for the children born here like his children. Children whom the Trojans would not spare for the loss of their own. It would be a slaughter. Women and children… so many lives. ____________________________________________________________Where all else had failed, only Odysseus saw the true opening to Achilles’ ear. Patroclus, it has always been him. They thought that by appealing to his sense of justice. What they failed to realize was that Achilles had no intention of morals. He had no reason.Godblood guided his path. Patroclus was the beginning and end of his moral compass. If his beloved begged on his knees for him to save the Greeks, then he would. After all, look how quickly Achilles had crumbled in the face of his lover's tears and cold fury. However, he had to hurry. This fraction in their relationship may deepen to the point, Patroclus would freeze his husband out completely. Odysseus prayed that he would be forgiven in his next life for all he had done for the sake of getting back to his Penelope, to his son.When it came to one's family, the price of others’ happiness did not matter.___________________________________________________________Achilles’ warm weight pressed at his back like a blanket. Patroclus found himself drifting when his lover broke the silence.“I have spoken to my mother,” Achilles said, his fingers tracing patterns against his back. Patroclus hid his flinch, well. What more surprise could his love throw at him this year. “Oh?” he asked. How many years had it been since he had seen her?“Has she been well?” Patroclus said, playing up their old routine. Achilles’ laugh vibrated against him.“Never better, she even asked about you.” He tensed before relaxing. Achilles was only joking. “Did she, really?” he hummed, curling away further from his embrace. The patterns stopped.“Patroclus.” Achilles pleaded, trying to pull him back, and just like that, the playful mood was gone.“What has she prophesied this time, my love? More blood to be spilled. Ah-I know the path to your godhood has changed... ”He hissed hatefully.“My light, don’t be like this. Hm.”“Like what, Achilles, telling you the truth. I’m angry with you, by the Gods I’m but-” He sat up, not wanting to argue further,“Let’s just sleep. I don’t want to fight.” Achilles gripped his arm.“We aren’t fighting,” realizing his strength, withdrew his fingers, “ and I- I’m sorry that I hurt you.”“But you did, and I was stupid enough to let you. I let you get away with so much because I love you. Achilles, I love you so much-.” Patroclus drew in a slow breath, trying to tame his racing heart.He exhaled it and with it, “I can’t let you continue on this path, Achilles. It isn’t worth it anymore. I want to go home as you promised me. I want-” you to live. See our children grow and possibly have more of them. For us to be old and grey together. “We will go home soon, I promise.” Achilles had lied to him yet again. Patroclus closed his eyes, weary.________________________________________________Patroclus counted the days until he would appear. It was only a matter of time now, after all. He was Achilles’ very heart. However, even if he didn’t feel like it these days. So he wasn’t surprised that Odysseus made himself at home.“Again, I must say that motherhood suits you,” Odysseus said, pouring himself a cup of wine.“And I suppose I should say scheming suits you just the same,” Patroclus remarked dryly, sipping at his own. Kallias snored against his chest.“I suppose you have come to convince me to whisper in Achilles’ ear,” Patroclus said, too tired to play games.Odysseus’ grey eyes bore into him, “Whisper in ears, Heavens no.” before a gleam appeared in them, “but if the whispers are in our favor, I wouldn’t be opposed.”“I have heard how well things are going for the Greeks, and I’m not sure what you seek to have me do. Achilles does not care about my council.” He cared for little these days but his glory. His lover had even gotten back into his mother's good graces. Ha, what a mess.“Convince him to have dinner with us; we can set a list of terms that are favorable to him.”“Stop. I’ll stop you right there, Odysseus, for that would be a waste of both your and our time. He will not agree. ”The insult in which you dealt him will not wash away with a list of treasure and..” Odysseus held up a finger, “But if you were to persuade him to accept, he would.” Patroclus resisted a groan of frustration. Was he not hearing himself?Achilles was angry beyond reasoning, and it would take nothing short of a miracle to alleviate that. “Comfort him as you have before, then surely he will agree,” he suggested with a knowing leer.Patroclus scoffed at him. Then Odysseus’ mood of whimsy faded as something grimmer took its place, “Patroclus men are dying surely you know this. The Trojans are at our doorstep, and any day now, they will burn the ships with Prince Hector at the helm.” The words would not come even if they did. They would be weak excuses in the face of it.“Achilles is the only one who can stop him. All others have tried and failed. You know this, I know this. I even warned you once about what was to come. Achilles must do this. He is the only one who can.”“It is easy to say when it isn’t the person you love dying. Isn’t it.” Patroclus gritted out at last.“Ten years, Patroclus. In those years, you and he gained more time, have you not?”“And what of it?” He didn’t like his tone; it felt almost accusatory.“Borne him not one but two children and celebrated with him countless days and nights. What of the rest of us who have been away from our families? You can only seek to run from Fate for so long until it is time to pay the cost.”Odysseus patted his shoulder before he left, leaving his thoughts in disarray. Damn him. Damn him for being so right. ___________________________________________________________His answer came not in the form of Odysseus but from Phiniox. Yes, the man had been his teacher, but more than that, he was like Achilles’ second father. A man whose wisdom he respected above all the kings and princes.Odysseus came with all the kings’ inner circle one night as they ate. Achilles welcomed them with as much hospitality as he was able to muster. Patroclus observed quietly with their children Kallias securely in his arms and Alex at his side. His son’s fingers tracing lightly over the dagger his father had given him. Already having gained his father’s distrust for these men and a love of weapons, the thought made him want to weep. So this is how they deemed themselves apologetic. Briseis had already found her way back to them, but the damage was done.Achilles wanted nothing more to do with them, not because of his friend but no for his pride. His ire had been gained by rumors in his name and how easily Agamemnon lorded his control of him. Their so-called control chafed at him. To be honest Patroclus was surprised that Achilles had not exploded years ago, but due to his illness and pregnancy. He figured he had nothing to lose. The things Achilles swore to do in his name by the Gods horrified him. How he was willing to let all of them burn for their perceived slights against him. Him catching the plague, the stress they caused with Briseis, and for his hard labor that followed, it was all to be paid back in blood.Achilles saw nothing wrong with letting others take the sins of his pride. Yet, they would play polite hosts who were planning to get off the chessboard. Odysseus must have accounted for this, for he sent in Phoinix. Instead of listing treasure and names of the fallen, he told a story.Meleager, a hero from Calydon. Calydon was being besieged by a people called the Curetes. A story that he and Achilles remembered from the day spent at Peleus’ knees. Patroclus felt a sinking feeling, and this story did not end well. Meleager, in the beginning, won many victories and was successful in pushing back the Curetes. However, one day the people of Calydon offered him in some way, and he withdrew his support to find comfort in the arms of his wife,Cleopatra.At the name Cleopatra, Patroclus feels Phoinix’s eyes on him.The meaning of it is not lost on him. The parallels were too obvious to miss, and even Achilles had picked up on the cues. However, he let him finish his tale. “At last, Cleopatra, seeing her beloved town and people suffering, asked her husband to save them. She got down on her knees and begged him, and he did because he loved her above all. He won a great victory for their people; however, it was too late. In the end, he gained victory but gained the scourge and hate of his people for his victory had come too late.”The silence in itself is deafening; with every breath he takes, all Patroclus can hear is his heartbeat. Achilles breaks it with all the subtlety of a rampaging bull, “Are you suggesting that I have lost my honor?” his tone was dangerous, and in the face of it, Phiniox didn’t falter.“I said no such thing; Meleager did not fight for glory but for Cleopatra, whom he loved and based all of his..” Phionix stopped, “this old man has said enough.” He had finished, but the implication had not stopped. Cleopatra. Glory to the Father. Names so similarly built but reversed situations. Achilles no longer wished to listen to his council. Anyone’s council.“I refuse until Agamemnon gives me the respect I have earned. Have I not won him numerous battles and riches, and how does he repay me? Slandering my name and that of my consort. Taking the woman who belongs to me. How do any of you repay me?” Achilles bites out. Phionix sighed but nodded.There would be no appeasing Achilles like this. He would not be calmed with a paltry offering.He wanted blood, he wanted…Patroclus froze at the thought... an offering of sacrifice like a God.So he was to be the sacrifice for the greater good as she had done, soften Achilles’ hard heart. How clever how they deemed him for his role. Yet, he spared a glance at his children. He must. Burying the urge to kneel and cry at Achilles’ feet is strong, but he ignores it. What good had done him with Briseis? No, he had to give him a reason. A reason he cared for._____________________________Achilles went to bed first. Patroclus watched him long after the candle extinguishes before closing his.______________________________________________After that night, no more of the inner circle came. They were too busy trying to keep the Trojans at bay. For the past ten years, they had lived high on victory to now taste the bitterness of defeat. Yet Patroclus knew they all saw him as their hope, their hope to change Achilles’ mind. His Achilles was so proud of his destruction and chaos. If his words had been valid, they would have left soon after, but still, they lingered. Because he wasn’t satisfied in knowing that they were losing without him, he wanted to watch them utterly destroyed. _______________________________________________Building up his courage, Patroclus spent the day preparing. Carefully he had made a meal for all of them. Alex had eyed them both strangely over the table before going off to his bed. Kallis was safely wiggling in his cradle, Achilles playing with his tiny fingers and toes. “You have to sleep, little one. Otherwise, you're going to stay so small and cute.” Their son only continued twisting and turning in his blanket.“Achilles, come to bed,” He offered, settling onto the edge. Inwardly he took a deep breath to steel himself and make his case one final time. “In a moment, he is so precious. I can’t bring myself to leave his side.” Achilles murmured. He could hardly fault his lover. Both of their children were so adorable. All one wanted to do was squeeze their cheeks. Their children should be enough of a reason? Patroclus rose and gently took their son into his arms. Brown eyes were blinking up at him slowly, almost annoyed.“Oh, so it’s fine if your father plays with you, but the one who carried you for all those months can’t cuddle you.” A spit bubble from that tiny pout appeared to be his answer. He chuckled softly, lightly rubbing his back, before laying him in the crib. “Good night, my son,” they chorused before settling on the bed, thighs touching.Patroclus leaned all of his weight into him, “Achilles,” and breathed, “If I asked you, would you?”“If you asked me what?” He withdrew from his strong shoulder.“Achilles,” he was pleading now. In the candlelight, his eyes gave nothing away. There were pools as deep and unfathomable as the ocean from which he had come.“I own them nothing, and why would I fight for those who have disrespected me at every turn. Who have underestimated me and treated me as a child? Tell me, Patroclus, why should I?” “Because I ask you,” Patroclus began.“You are not Cleopatra anymore than I’m Meleager.” Achilles snarled, withdrawing from his embrace. Humiliation washed through him, but he refused to let it end like this. Keeping his voice free from tears continued, “if not for them but me. For our children. For all the innocents who will be slaughtered if the walls fall. How we will be trapped if they burn our ships.”“They won’t, and I won’t let them hurt you or them. Patroclus, you know that.” Patroclus wasn’t discouraged, “Did you not fight for me in the beginning?” “That-this isn’t the same.” Achilles stuttered, and his heart fell.“But Achilles it is, I ask because I know you deny me little. I ask that you protect the children I so lovingly bore you and me.”“Ask me in the morning. I will speak more with you then. You need to rest.”Achilles conceded at last. Patroclus took it. He slept no easier, but his heart felt lighter. But something lingered at the back of his mind. What if he did fight? What if this was the end of everything? What if this was what took his lover’s life? His selfish plea.____________________________________________________In the haze of morning, they awoke to the smell of smoke and the sounds of screams. “They have breached the gate….” At the screams, they scrambled out of bed. Kallias in his arms, and Alex in Achilles’. “Get to the ships. Stay there until I sort this out.”Achilles ordered. Patroclus stopped in horror, watching the way the gate burned in the distance and how their soldiers fought to push them back. “Patroclus, go!” Achilles shouted. “They aren’t close enough yet.” An eerie feeling settled over him, and he took it as a sign. “Achilles, will you?” Emerald eyes met his before turning to survey the damage. “I won’t.” Achilles, his stubborn and prideful Achilles.“As long as I can send you and the children to safety, the others do not matter.” “Our ships will be long gone by the time they burn the others.” “Achilles, if you are going to be this way, at least drive them back.” Patroclus was grasping at anything to help not only the innocents but his fellow countrymen. So many lives had been lost in this war, even if he no longer cared which side won. He wanted no more bloodshed. “Get to the ships,” Achilles repeated instead of answering him. He would not be ordered to retreat in the face of violence so close to his children.“No!” Turning to Alex, carefully placed his babe in his arms.“Go to the ship and wait. We will be back soon. Alright?” The growing wetness in his son’s eyes was too much to bear.“I want to wait with you. Papa, what if they burn the ships while we are on them.” Alex argued. He and Achilles shared a glance. From the beginning, their camp had been a strategic stronghold as it was far away from the Trojans, and it left their ships concealed from a vantage point.“You’ll be fine. Just run as fast as you can. We'll be back soon."" I won't. I'll stay here and fight. I'll defend us!" Alex shouted, “I’m not a coward either.”Achilles went still but said nothing. Patroclus wanted nothing more than to try and cleanse the hurt between them, but there was no time. His mind was swirling with ideas of what to do, yet. Deep down, he already knew what he must do, what had to be done.Spotting Automedon, called him over, “Help me put armor on, I’ll go.”Right, before he could take another step, Achilles stopped him, “Patroclus, you don’t have to do this.”“I must, Achilles, take our children to the ships and wait there.” Patroclus tugged his arm away. If he would not go, then he had no right to stop him.“No, I’ll-” Achilles bit his lip, “I’ll dress you myself. Come”________________________________________________________________Calmness filled his every sense despite his body buzzing and blood singing with adrenaline. Achilles’ fingers were efficient as he tied worn straps into place. The scent of old blood clinging to the armor no matter how it was scrubbed and polished. A justified penance for the lives who were etched into its surface. How it pooled and soaked into the pores of the metal. If he listened closer, he could hear the nervous thumping of his heart. Patroclus, too, was to baptize it again in the blood of men. He was no stranger to blood. There was too much at stake right now for him to be. However, this was different. He was doing this for the good of the Greeks, for his children, for his Achilles. So he was well within his rights. Or at least that was the lie he fed himself each time before battle. Killing came easier when you often did it. For years he had conducted plans that had led to complete slaughter to outright rendering heads from their bodies for his beloved. In the pit of his stomach, there was a feeling that he couldn’t shake. Something was wrong, very wrong.Call it his terrors from being at the brink of death, but it was as if his soul was unsettled. As if this was the moment he had to be wary of this, everything was to change.“Achilles,” he called softly when the last strap was buckled in place, “ don’t do anything rash. This moment feels as if…” Words died in this throat when he gazed upon those emerald eyes so heavy with something like remorse but not quite. There were wounds between them, so deep they felt as if they would never heal. Achilles, oh Gods, in a fit of pure grief and madness, his Achilles had become so cruel.“You don’t have to….” His lover began only for him to stop him. …. “I have to because you refused to. Achilles, you let your pride blind you, my love. You are so close to greatness.” No, this was it. He would speak no more of his predictions or other mad ramblings. ….“Kiss me,” he nearly begged. Achilles for once indulged his request. Patroclus swore that he tasted regret on his tongue. _____________________________________________________Alex stood at the chariot’s side, his stubborn little boy. “I thought I told you to go to the ship?” he teased, ruffling his hair. “I wanted to see you, Mama. I-need to. Kallias does too,” Alex rebuffed with a pout. Oh, where had the time gone, and yet he was so precious. “I’ll be back, my love. You worry too much,” Patroclus assured him.Achilles had made it very clear to him, “You are only to push them back. Nothing more, save those damnable cowards and come back to me. Please come back to me.”Wearing his lover’s armor had been his idea if their men saw their leader back among them. They would be an unstoppable force against the Trojans and, in doing so, would rally the other men. This has to work, or else this will all have been for naught. And there was a real possibility of him being captured for ransom or killed. Even so, his feet guided him to the chariot, and he kissed his children and lover goodbye. Hopefully, he would return. __________________________________He doesn’t._____________________________________In the days following his death, Achilles feels as if none of this is real. From the moment they brought back the body wrapped in a shroud to the cries of his children. He tells himself that Patroclus is only sleeping, that if he prays enough, maybe just maybe, he will be returned to him. Yet deep down, he knows that is a child’s tale… something to comfort but not to heal. There is plenty of time for regret when you’re left alone with your thoughts. The last time he saw his beloved, there had been so much discourse between them.Hurtful words, even with kisses, to soften the blows.They haunted him.

“Kiss me.” His Patroclus begged, and he did. He wanted to bury his very breath in his body. Mark him so that he would only ever be his completely, that their souls would remain one. Patroclus broke away from him, a conflicted look in his eyes. One last time he had asked for him to do what was right. Achilles had failed him yet again. By the Gods, if only he had agreed. Patroclus would be happy and vibrant, not a rotting corpse of regret and heartbreak. His light, his Sun, his love. The pain was maddening but none as his grief. His guilt.

“Is my love enough for you, Achilles? Will it ever be enough for you?” he asked, wrapping his arms around himself as if armor. Achilles reached for him, but he curled further into himself. As if he was trying to guard his heart against his answer.

Patroclus answered for him,“ Of course not. For all, you speak of glory. Where did my Achilles go? The one who so lovingly declared that none of that mattered, only your sons and I mattered.” “Why can you just put your pride aside just this once.?”

Achilles reached for him, and Patroclus flinched backward. “Men are dying while you stay here, allowing me to soothe your bruised ego. I’m tired, Achilles, so tired. I have held my tongue due to carrying our child. I can hold it no longer. I will go and lead our people.” Patroclus went to turn away from him, but he grabbed his arm. He tried wigging away from him in vain.

If only he could cling tighter to him, keep him here. Safe. But now they have passed that. “You’re hurting me,” he hissed sharply.

Horrified, Achilles dropped his arm as if stung. But it was too late; there was a dark imprint of where his fingers had been. “I never meant to,” he started to say, but the sharp look his lover gave him stopped what he was going to say. “You did. You meant to,” he spat at him before he was gone. The gleam of his armor blinding in the sun. His beloved light, his Patroclus. “I truly didn’t mean to,” he said to the now-empty room. Gods, what had he done.

__________________________________________________________
Achilles’ grief made him cruel. He lashed out at everyone. He knew it. The beautiful children his lover bore him included.“Patroclus, forgive me. I never meant to.” He loved them, but he couldn’t bear to be in their presence. It hurt. All the goodness of his lover showed in their every movement. Alexander was his near image but held none of his cruelty. Instead, his Patroclus’ gentle and caring nature shone through. Kallias especially hurt him, with his dark eyes and curls and wild like his lover’s, tiny cheeks that were constantly rosy but were quickly becoming sullen and hollow. Briseis had brought the infant to him briefly after he would not eat. “You should at least look after the child; he bore you,” her expression had been blank, but her tone was sharp.“Make sure he has a sufficient wet nurse if he does not want the goat’s milk,” he said, daring not to peek into the blanket. He didn’t want to see his lover’s dark eyes and curls reflected at him. To feel his guilt.“He does not want it. He is crying for his mother.”Achilles shut his eyes. “I know.”“You weren’t the only one who loved him.You are only selfishly thinking of yourself. He didn’t belong to you exclusively. He had his children, friends, people who loved him and---” she snapped finally before stopping.“I wish, by all the Gods, I hadn’t let my pride cloud my judgment to see how unhappy I made him,” he said, cradling his head, “I gave into all of his other requests why couldn’t I have done this for him.”“Because you are selfish. You claimed to love him, but you happily let him comfort your bruised ego. He was heavy with your child when he begged for you to do what was right, but you refused. He saw only the good in you and refused to see how petty and cruel you truly are. He used to go on and on about how gentle you could be. You only wanted him to see you as gentle when truly all you are is a murderer. You killed him truly, not Hector.”“You think I don’t know that...” the words barely a whisper. Even so, his blood sang to drain Hector of every last drop of blood. He wanted every drop. None would be wasted._______________________________________________________________________________
Their Prince Hector had killed the great Achilles. For one moment, there was a beacon of hope.
The tide of the war was finally in their favor. But that fizzled out quickly, and was overcome with regret. They had killed Patroclus, the monster’s very heart. Achilles would turn the rivers red with the blood of his people. Not a single one would be left alive. From the moment Hector realized the youth in the armor was not Achilles. He had prayed for redemption, but the Gods were not listening. He observed the body of the youth, the way blood smeared across his face, and worse of all, the dark gaping wound that rested at his stomach. But worse came to the shouts that he had killed Patroclus. The dark-eyed youth from so long ago sat at the demigod’s side. The bearer of his children, by the Gods. The horror that filled him was quickly replaced with calculating. Even in death, Patroclus was still a bargaining chip. Achilles would help them end his war one way or another. “Take his body.” Chaos erupted from both sides as the body of Patroclus was fought over.
______________________________________________
Still so still.This was not his Patroclus, the love of his life. He had promised just to push them back, nothing more, nothing less. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be back in his arms. Warm and vibrant, not so cold and lifeless. Cradling him in his arms, Achilles ran his dagger across his throat, expecting it to gush with blood. Nothing, he tried again.The dagger was just as clean as when Patroclus had first sharpened it. Gleaming in the light, it mocked him. His mother’s voice came to him, cold breath at his neck, “Really, my child. You wish to take your life now. You are closer than ever to everything you could ever want. Is this really how you wish for your men to see you as a weak coward? One who falls on his sword at the death of his lover.” Thetis wasn’t cruel enough to call her son’s lover a whore, not when his body was barely cold. Achilles said nothing, only continuing to run the blade across his throat. When that failed, she watched him trying to run himself through with his sword.A scene that should have made her concerned only served to make her angry, all of this for that cow-eyed whore. “Enough, Achilles. He is dead, and this will not bring him back.” And They would not let him die not until Hector had died too.“What does it matter? I wish I could join him. Glory means nothing to me now.” His tears fell once more. Everything was lost, and the price he paid was his lover’s life.“He was nothing, a mere mortal. Achilles, my son, you now have the opportunity to obtain greatness. Forget him and pursue it.” Achilles turned to her with such a bone-chilling stare through his tears.As if he wanted to tear her limb from limb. Her composure forced her not to flee from him. “Nothing. Nothing. NOTHING YOU SAY. HE WAS MY EVERYTHING. LOVED ME AS I WAS. NO MATTER HOW CRUEL OR BLOODTHIRSTY I APPEARED. PATROCLUS SAW SOMETHING GOOD IN ME. SOMETHING WORTHY OF HIS LOVE. AND I…. I killed him.”Her son had started out screaming, but the fire had gone out of him towards the end. All of his vitality drained out of him at Patroclus’ death. His once golden hair was dull and matted. Flush complexion, now pale and lifeless. His eyes were stripped of their vibrant green. Dead, her son looked so dead. There was nothing further to be said, for nothing could be done. The prophecy had come and gone. Her son’s heart was dead. With it, there was nothing left for him to live for. Thetis paused, except the children. The children he had borne him. All was not lost. Achilles still had a chance. Her grandchildren were the key.“Don’t you want to avenge his death? My son, think about your children. It isn’t too late to avenge their mother’s death.” At that, her son’s head was up in a flash, and the all-consuming power of God rested in his eyes.“Yes, I still need to avenge him. I can’t face him in Hades without doing so.” Her son said, tightening his grip on Patroclus’ corpse.Thetis smiled, “And I will help you, my son, please wait for me to return. I will have new armor forged for you. You’ll need it to defeat him.” Hephaestus owed her a favor, and nothing was too good for her son, especially when it came to his destiny.____________________________________________________Grief had its merits, Odysseus decided. It either crippled a man or strengthened his resolve to avenge his loss. With Achilles, it had been both. Yet none of them minded his reasoning as long as he rejoined the war effort. However, at the back of their minds, they thanked Patroclus for his sacrifice. Without him pushing back the Trojans, their ships would have burned.Achilles made sure they remembered that he did not care about this war any longer. All he wanted was revenge on Hector. Irony from a man who once claimed the man had done nothing to gain his ire. The man who had killed his beloved and sent him into the very pits of despair.“I will end this war, and every single last Trojan will fall by my hand. Prince Hector especially”Despite the sunny weather, the room felt a gush of cold wind. Achilles had come back to them but at what cost? There was no longer an anchor to keep him centered. At this point, Odysseus cared little for the present; he wanted the outcomes of the future. Outcomes filled with victory and visions of him back in the arms of his sweet Penelope.____________________________________________________After the Sun died, the camp felt the iciness of Achilles’ all-consuming wrath. It was as if a God had descended among them. Achilles no longer attempted to be civil. Or human. Having long cast his weapons aside, having no need of them as he ripped Trojans apart with his bare hands. Crimson soaked into his once golden hair and clotted at his skin, leaving him reeking of decay. Yet it was the look of near madness that made every steer clear of him except Alex. His father had long sunken into madness, but he could not bear to have his mother dishonored. His heart ached at the thought of his mother’s spirit trapped because his father refused to be parted from him.“Father, I beg you to begin to let Mama rest. He doesn’t...,” Alex trailed off. His father had not moved an inch from his vigil at their mother’s side or rather the corpse of his mother bound tightly in a shroud wrapped with herbs to keep the smell of rot at bay. Seeing it nearly brought him to tears again, his mother, his poor mother. Then he became angry. It was enough that father had gone mad, but to the extent that he would let his mother be like this. It wasn’t as if their father was blameless, in fact.Alex couldn’t help but lash out, “Are you pleased father, my mother is dead, for what? Your honor, oh yes, your worthless honor and pride,” his son bared his teeth at him. Hubris. At that moment, Achilles hated how much his son resembled him. Never could he truly hate his child, the child his lover bore him.“Kallias is not but days old, and now he is motherless. You sent him weak to the battlefield from labor, for your petty honor,” his son continued his tirade against him. “They are right; you are a monster. You care for none as you do yourself. And to think I once looked to you as my father, my hero,” he could bear no more his son’s hatefulness. His venom spoke the truth.“Leave me,” Achilles did not even have the strength to yell at him, only quietly pleading. Alex didn’t leave. Instead, his son crowded further into his space. “ Is your guilt eating at your father because it should? Papa loved you so purely, and you took his love and kindness for granted,” he whispered, “For such petty things as glory, that is what you traded your husband for. What has left your two children motherless for? I hope you achieve godhood, father, so you can see how empty and lonely it is. For now, you should do what is right. Let him rest in peace,” the last of whispers to his ear.He glanced up and saw his son was gone. It was only him only with the body of his beloved, his entire heart, the very reason he breathed. Gone. He wanted someone to blame, but it was only him. His arrogance and pride had driven his weak lover to fight for and defend their people what he should have done instead of his heart. Gods, he had barely survived labor with their second child.Only to be slain by Hector. Grief was drowning him. He would do anything to have him back, make any deal. Achilles could scream until his voice was no more, but the Fates nor the Gods would return his beloved to him. There was only one fate for him, death. Death he would greet fondly if he could see his beloved again. Until then, Hector would pay dearly for what he had taken from him. When that has been fulfilled, his husband’s funeral rites will be the grandest they had ever seen.___________________________________

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Death was so fulfilling in a way he almost understood. To describe the state he was in it was difficult. He hovered between the land of the living but not quite in Hades’ domain. Perhaps it was due to Achilles clinging so tightly to him, refusing to be parted from his body. 
 
Patroclus found that he didn’t mind this state if he was closer to Achilles and his children. He only wished he could offer them peace to let them know he wanted them to live and not seek revenge.
 
Revenge that was empty.
 
He had been arrogant to think he could cause the fall of Troy. Only his Achilles was capable of such a feat, and for it, they all suffered. 
 
Swatted like a mere fly by the God of the Sun and run through by Prince Hector. What a glorious death. And with it came the realization that everything they had done had been futile. 
 
He had been the pawn all along; his seemingly worthless death was to serve as the catalyst for Achilles’ path to Godhood. 
 
He was to be the reason for Hector’s demise and, with it, an entire empire.

_________________________________________________

Holy Zeus, Ganymede could only watch in complete and utter horror. Bodies piled upon bodies, the stench of rot and metal surrounding them.
 
Achilles had finally made preparation for Patroclus’ burial, but this was horrifying. Nothing that his descendant would have ever wanted. 
 
A pyre that had burned for seven days and seven nights as more and more things had been added to send Patroclus off for a comfortable afterlife. Gold, cloth, ivory, tools, locs of his golden strands, but the most horrifying were the live offerings of blood and flesh. A horse that Patroclus once rode, dogs whom he raised, and to top it off, twelve Trojan hostages. Sons of Priam if it was to be believed. There was no end to his bloodlust. Achilles had truly and completely gone beyond redemption. 
 
A creature of grief and wraith walked among the living now. All of this for pride. Hubris.
 
Achilles had sworn that he would protect his last descendants; he had sworn that nothing else mattered.
 
It was easy to place the blame on everyone but himself. A million excuses for something so easily done. Ganymede had warned him, but Achilles was caught up in having power and forgoing what was truly important. His lover and children now look. Two motherless children and on the path of self-destruction.
 
Achilles could have been great if only Patroclus had lived.
 
Now he had no one to blame but himself. 
 
Ganymede almost felt sorry for him.

Almost

.

_______________________________________________________

The wind carried the smell of charring fleshing, screams of the dying, and ash. But the worst was the coppery smell of blood that wafted from his papa’s burning pyre.
Kallis sniffled in his arms, and he prayed that he wouldn't cry. 
Alexander had kept Kallias far from his father’s gaze, still fearing that he would slit the babe's throat and add him to the already growing pile of things his father had loved. The dogs he had raised. The horse he had loved to ride… 
 
His fear was not unfounded because his father had killed twelve boys near his own age. Alexander had watched everyone, and the last one of the boys go to their death resigned and quickly. It was surprising the pyre had even started with how much blood was soaking into the wood.

In the shadows of the flame of their papa’s pyre, Alex felt fear for the first time in his life. His father, for the first time, looked just as terrible as the stories said. No longer a playful father but the Scourge of Troy. Destroyer of cities. 
 
The lighting of the flames highlighted the blood on both his face and hair, but the madness of his father’s expression. Made Alex want to cry. Since their papa had died, his father’s madness had been terrible.  
 
Every day, it seemed as if his father’s madness was growing. Alex hugged Kallias to his chest, who constantly cried, knowing their mother was gone. Often he wept with him, steeling himself to become parentless once more. It was obvious that their father could no longer function without their mother. He still gave orders and attended to his duties, but he walked as a dead man already. The scent of death clung to him. When it became apparent to others, their people began to turn to him. He was too young to lead. 
 
“

Mama, please, I miss you so

,” he thought, “

I need you. Father needs you. I can’t raise Kallias alone

.” His mama was so sweet to him how he would sing and tell him stories, always insisting that he sit through his lessons no matter how boring. Who kissed him goodnight and went swimming with him. Alex felt his love in everything he did. Kissing his brother’s head, tried to transmit all of their mother's love into it.  So that Kallias would know he was loved. Always.

“I know you will, my son,” his mama hugged him tightly and kissed his forehead before turning to their father. They exchanged quiet words; then, he was taken by the chariot.

Had Alexander known then that was the last time he would see him, he would have held him tighter and screamed and begged for him not to go.
 
A tear fell, and he wiped it away before it hit his little brother’s cheek. Their mother was gone, and he was never coming back.

_____________________________________

She watched the way Achilles stalked at their walls from the battlements, the Greeks a good distance away. None wanted to see if his madness was catching.
 
“Prince Hector, come down !” Achilles yelled. He feared nothing. Why should he?
 
He wore no armor and carried no sword, but the coating of blood protected him just as well. Red streaked his skin and tunic like a Fury. 
 
There was little doubt in her mind that if Hector went out there, Achilles would rip him limb from limb.
 
Oh, how she feared for her husband. 
 
“Hector, my Hector, please do not listen to his calls,” Andromache begged. 
 
Hector gripped her as tightly as her swelling waist allowed, “I must.” He closed his eyes, “but I must for the good of our people.”
 
She shoved him then, “You fool, you foolish man,” Andromache wailed, “What have you done?!”
 
Hector was helpless at her grief at her rage. She threw all of her weight against him, arms failing with each hit. He took all of them with grace. 
 
“In your haste to kill Achilles, you have rendered your child and I helpless. Oh, how I despise you for it.” she hicupped, eyes an oasis of tears, “He’ll kill you, Hector,” to her knees, she dropped, grasping his tunic, “You know he will.” 
 
Hector knelt, gathering her in his arms, trying to soothe her. There was nothing left for him to say. Of course, he knew that. He had known it from the day Paris had stolen Helen. Fate can not be outrun nor outwitted. Hector had already accepted that, but for Andy, his precious Andromache. His star, mother of his child. He wanted to fight it, for her, for their family. But he had erred grievously in killing Achilles’ husband. All of Troy was forfeited.  
 
His life was forfeited. 
 
“Don’t go, my love, please. I can’t have our child alone. I won’t survive without you,” Andy breathed against his collar. 
 
He did not wish to upset her anymore and simply agreed, “Of course, my Andy. I won’t leave you.”
 
“Liar.” she returned, “you’re such a liar. You know you will try to sneak out and meet him, and that will be your end. You’re a fool, my Hector. A self-righteous fool.”
 
“If you think dying will solve this war, it will not. They will simply burn our city to ash and take what they want. Hector, you are all that our city has. If you fall, Troy burns. I will burn and our child too, Gods-” she turned her head. 
 
“Hold on for as long as you can, my love. That is all I ask of you.” She uttered at last.
 
They both know that it was out of their hands.

____________________________________________________________

“
Achilles, dearest,
” Thetis began only to stop when she saw her child’s state.

He looked even more unkempt; his once long curls had been cropped at his neck. Blood and other viscous liquids drying across his skin.

"Your amour is ready," she told him, holding it out.

Achilles barely glanced at it before brushing past her.
"I don't need it. Not for him anyway."
________________________________________________________

He tried to keep his promise to his beloved, but every day he taunts him. The men he leaves alive are only to send a message. If they can even be called men with the mangled nest of their limbs, arms ripped from sockets, legs torn at the knee. Eyes plucked from heads. The worst are the rumors of what Achilles has planned for the ones he captures.
 
Obsessed with the thought of bringing his beloved Patroclus back, Achilles had resorted to human sacrifices. Blood was spilled daily to the pyre of Patroclus.
 
Hector’s blood had run cold when he heard that one of his young cousins had fallen into the madman’s grasp. There would be no reasoning with the bloodthirsty demigod. Achilles would not be satisfied until his blood was splattered and soaking into Mother Gaia’s skin. 
 
He wanted him in parts, and there was nothing to do but stall for time. Andy had placed her trust in him.
 
But Hubris is strong.
 
The moment his people began whispering of his cowardness. Of his failures. His arrogance. He bent.
 
“

Prince Hector does nothing but hide in the temple, conferring with the Gods. He cares nothing for our suffering.

”

“He had brought Achilles’ wrath upon us all.”

“My son came back with no arms. How will he make a living for his family?”

“Two of my sons served as charioteers, and both ended up on that whorish Greek’s prye….”

His heart ached for his people, but Andy his Andy. He wanted to live as much as they did to see and hold his child. This war had been of his brother’s making, not his, but he had help in its inflation. Convincing his father and people to shelter Helen. Killing Patroclus had killed any hope for reconciliation. His arrogance in trying to take Patroclus’ body led to Achilles' all-consuming hunger, of which even the Greeks steered clear. 
 
So consumed in the thought of his death had not cared for his two sons, now motherless.
 
Hector still felt a twinge of sympathy for taking Patroclus from his children. More than anything, he understood Achilles’ grief. Had Andy fallen in battle, there would be no end to the bloodshed. But the spilling the blood of innocent and ripping men apart for what purpose did it serve? He already knew that Achilles wanted his head.
 
Hector decided not to tell Andy he was leaving; only his pageboy knew as he had strapped him into his armor. 
 
It was time to finish this. When he died, he was taking Achilles with him.

______________________________________________

All of his bravado fled from him the moment the demigod stalked over to him. Regardless of how strong his stolen armor was, there was little to protect him from Achilles’ bloodthirsty gaze. 
 
They trade blows, but in the end, Hector knew his life was at its end. So foolishly, he dropped everything and ran. He ran as far as his feet could carry him, but this was the end. Achilles chased as if he embodied the Furies. There would be no more bargaining or speaking, only his slaughter.

I’m sorry, my Andy. I failed to keep my promise.

_________________________________

Every thrum of his feet brought him closer and closer to the man who had taken everything from him.

The race on Opus
. Their first meeting.

Patroclus’s soft lips on his own. The sound of the waves beating in tandem with his heart. First kiss.

“Achilles, put me down,” Patroclus’ light laugh rang out around him.

“Never you have made me so happy. Gods you’re having my child.” Having their first child.

That was all he was left with, his damned memories. Each more precious than the last.

Patroclus’ dark curls wreathed in flowers and his smile lit by the background of the sun. Dimples peeking through.

“If it is a girl, can we name her after my mother?” a breathy whisper to his collar.

“Of course, my love,” he kissed his temple.

Anything to make him happy, anything to make him smile. Now his bright smile was lost forever, and Hector would pay. He would wish he had never been born. Because when he was finished with him, for he would no longer resemble a man or anything at all.

“
I love you, my Achilles,” Patroclus’ sleepy whisper echoed in his mind.

He could have screamed. Image after images. Day and night being plagued with his lover’s voice, his laugh, his smile. Everything haunted him.

Another flash came to him, this one the most painful of all. Gods.

Patroclus cradling his swelling belly dozing off, Alex cuddled against his side.

He had destroyed his family for what?

What had he deprived his children of their mother for? Had his lover killed for what? WHAT DID HE HAVE TO SHOW FOR IT.

Glory

Eternal

Bloodstained Glory

Damn it all,
Damn It All. The
 only thing that mattered now was Hector’s blood. 
 
Achilles vowed to all the Gods above. He would bathe in his and all of Troy’s blood. He would then rip those petty immortal children to shreds. 
 
They would pay dearly for what they had taken from him.

___________________________________________________________

There was nothing more for him to do but watch.
 
Watch as the man he loved damned himself, and it was all his fault.
 
“

Achilles

,” he whispered, but the veil of death did not allow him to reach so far.

____________________________

___

Andromache raced through the halls and up into the battlements, praying that it was not too late. 
 
It was. 
 
Her husband had dropped his armor and run, but all could see how Achilles stalked and cornered him like an animal. To a demigod, what was a man? But prey.
 
“HECTOR,” she screamed as Achilles' sword slashed through his neck. Through his savagery, Hector’s head was held only by the white of bone.
 
She screamed once more before it all went black.
 
Hector her Hector.

______________________________________________________

The Greeks could only look on in horror as Achilles dragged Hector’s body thrice around the city.

Even this was beyond revenge; this was sheer malice.

As they retreated, victory was sweet on their tongues yet at the back of their minds. At what cost?

_______________________________________________________________________

Revenge did not fill him as he wished. It only served to make him emptier. Memories of Patroclus still haunted him.

The way he laughed, smiled, how he looked under the moonlight. Alex and Kallias, imprints of his love. Everything. 
 
Achilles knew that with this, the prophecy had been fulfilled. He was ready. Ready to be back with his beloved.
 
He wept not tears of despair but relief.

_______________________________________________________

For the first time since he was a child, Alex offered a sacrifice to the Gods, any one of them that would hear his desperate plea.
 
A plea for his remaining parent to live, for him to find a will to live. Obviously, he and his brother were not enough to keep him in the land of the living.
 
Even deeper, he longed for his mother’s return to them.

_____________________________________________________________________

Poor child

Ganymede took pity on the child, directing him to where he could find the answer to his petition. No other God would dare, but Zeus favored him above all. There would be little to no consequence for his actions.

_____________________________________________________

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Kallias whimpered so pitifully his heart squeezed at the sounds.
“Hush, little brother, here drink,” Alex promised, brushing his fingers against his brother’s cheek. The baby only cried more, turning from the milk-filled rag.
 
He wanted none of it, each day, a struggle to get him to eat. At this rate, he was going to get sick.
 
“Kallias won’t you drink just a bit for me, then drink for mama,” the baby stirred slightly at “mama” but made no move to take the offered milk. Alex and Nanny had tried everything from wetnurses to rags, even rubbed teats jars. Nothing, he only wanted their mother. A mother who had long passed from the mortal world. 
 
Heat built up behind his eyes, “Please, brother, please, I beg you.” Alex had sworn not to cry too often when it came to his brother, but it hurt him. It hurt him deeply to watch such a sweet and rosy-cheeked go to a sullen and swallow cheeked babe.
 
“Mama told me to care for you, so please. Please, brother.” In a desperate bid to get him to eat, he had taken some of his old soft toys and had him suck on them.
 
“Here, look.” Kallias grasped it, and a paw went into his mouth. Seeing an opportunity, he quickly soaked the other appendages in the milk. Kallias nibbled at them, and it was better than earlier. 
 
“There you are; it’s going to be alright. I’m here; I won’t leave you. I swear it,” Alex promised, smoothing his brother’s dark curls, “Your brother is here.”
 
Finally, tears dripped down his cheeks, but he wiped them away. There was no time to cry; he had to be strong to look after his brother.

__________________________________________

If there was any doubt in anyone’s mind that Achilles had gone mad, it was confirmed watching him defile Hector’s corpse day in and day out. Every sort of imaginable insult one could render upon the dead, Achilles did. All of which were miraculously wiped away by the dawn, continuing the cycle once more. If the Gods were kinder, they would have stopped, for madness was what gripped Achilles now. Hector was dead, but there was no place for him to run from him even in death. He would grant him no reprise in House of Hades.

Every report of the desecration upon his son’s body was a further wound to his already fragile heart. His firstborn son was so heinously treated as if he had not been the crown jewel of their empire. Their future now shone dim, with his son gone. Troy was counting their days. Days until there was nothing left but ash. Oh, his son, oh poor Hector.
 
“HECTOR!”
 
A wail pierced the halls, the cry of his beloved daughter-in-law. They all grieved but none as much as she did, belly heavily swollen. She was days from giving birth, but grief was thawing on her leaving a shell of a once vibrant woman. Even now, her wails permeated the walls far past her confinement. 
 
Priam bowed his head. If only he had been stronger, a better king, then his family and empire would not crumble to dust. All that he loved had turned to rot.
 
There was one thing he could do as a father, was to bring his child home. Ease his daughter-in-law’s thoughts as she prepared to bring the last piece of his son into the world.

______________________________________________________

A servant girl brought in a jar of wine with two goblets. She poured one for each before departing. Neither of them touched it.
 
Priam had never felt like prey as much as he did at that moment. “

He is only a man

,” his mind quietly supplied. “

A man with the blood of Gods running through his veins

,” it added when hateful green eyes fixed themselves on him.
 
“You have no right to ask for your son’s body.”  Achilles’ voice left no room for reason or mercy.
 
“I beg you to allow me this; I’m but an old man. Hector was my eldest son. Grant this old man his request.” Silence met his request, so he continued.
 
“You, yourself, have two sons. Wouldn’t you wish to bring home your children if they were slain?”
 
Achilles regarded him a moment, “I have three children. My consort bore me another day before your son drove a spear through his stomach. Your son wished to take my most beloved body to ransom it to get more agreeable terms to end this war.” 
 
So the rumors had been true, Achilles’ lover not only bore his sons but served as his second in command.

Oh, my son, what have you done?

Priam knew coming here would be dangerous, but seeing his son’s body paraded around the city walls, had broken him. Andromache's condition was dire; she couldn’t bear such things in her delicate state.
 
Hoping to soften his heart, Priam added this delicately, “My daughter-in-law is also expecting a child. She is in labor as we speak.” At this, his sharp green eyes softened. Something that resembled a smile peeked through.
 
“He had joked that they conceived around the same time. That marrying our children could end the war.” however, it was gone just as quickly.
 
“That is a dream that will never come to fruition.” Achilles took a deep swing of his wine.
 
Silence fell over them before he turned to him, “I’ll grant it for the thought of my own father and children. Take him and do as you wish.”
 
Priam gave him a grateful bow, “I thank you,

Aristo Achaion.”

Achilles snorted at this, his eyes growing dim, “The best of us has already passed. My Patroclus was the best of all men and… Never mind that, take your son and go before I change my mind.”
 
Priam and his servant gathered their prince’s body and on the trek to their great gates. He mourned for all that had been lost. The loss of loved ones and of children who would grow up orphaned.

Father had become a stranger to him; there was nothing of him that walked among the living. Nothing but blood-stained fury, still a childish part of him held out hope that father would remember them. Love them and care for them as he had before. No Alex knew better than that; rot in his father would corrupt him if he allowed him too close. The desire to topple cities and people, revenge that wasn’t fulfilling. Look at his father, his revenge against Hector was more than repaid. Yet, he still appeared so haunted. There was no life in his eyes.
 
Anger had long faded from him. All he wanted was his family to be whole once more. He prayed for his brother to be well, for his father not to lose himself to grief, for the war to end. If only there were a way to go back. Back to the moment that everything had gone so wrong. How silly of him; there was no going back.
 
Alex wiped his face for what felt like the eighth time that day. He had cried less today; he had too. He wasn’t a child anymore; he had to be responsible. 
 
Tears dripped down his face without his consent. How he hated this, this feeling of helplessness. If only he were older, he could have fought for his mother…. There were so many what-ifs.

___________________________________________________

For the Gods’ sake, was all of his bloodline so naive and clueless. He had all but handed them their salvation, and yet it sat there. He blamed Achilles. Idiot godling.

_______________________________________
Achilles had come back to the war effort, but now there was a matter of time. Troy was destined to fall as soon as Prince Hector breathed his last, yet the wall stood impenetrable. Odysseus' patron goddess had already guided his next step.
“
Find the first seed of Achilles’
.
He will deliver the final blow to Troy.
” Athena bid him.
 
He did not question her will. However, he wondered about the fate of Achilles’ other children, the younger princes. Those poor sweet children. Odysseus remembers how to overcome with joy the young couple had been when they started their family. His heart tore to see how frightened and withdrawn the older was. In comparison, the youngest was too wan for a once chubby cheeked babe.
 
Yet, choices and sacrifices had been made. Achilles had made his path clear, as had he. He chooses to look forward, not back, or else his conscience may begin to haunt him. Liquor only quieted so much.

__________________________________________________________

Thoughts of Patroclus haunted him. Still, it was as if his lover was mourning with him. Ha, how frivolous of him. His heart deserves nothing but a peaceful afterlife in Elysium how he longed to be at his side basking his eternity together. 
 
Curling his hands around the smooth surface of the urn, Achilles felt sleep comfort him like an old friend. Sleep was a near cousin of Death after all.

_______________________________________________________________

Fingers passed through the blood-crusted locs, Patroclus sighed. So many times he had tried to reach him and so many times had he failed.

Achilles

Alexander

Kallias

Gods, what was he to do? Sit here and watch them suffer for all of eternity. Was this the Gods’ plan to punish him for the blood he had once spilled in youth?
 
This was worse than Tartarus. Patroclus could bear it if he didn’t have to see them so devastated. His oldest child grieving, and his youngest is wasting away. Rage bubbled up whenever he saw the state of his children. Achilles had sworn to love and care for them, knowing better than anyone that none would look after them.

Betrayal also made its home in his heart; he had not nearly died twice in childbirth for Achilles to be so-so…
 
Then again, it was Achilles’ fickle word that ended them all here. All the promises he could not keep culminated on a bed of secrets and half-truths. One they all had to lie in.
 
Patroclus longed more than anything to find it in himself to forgive him. He knew in his heart if Achilles had gone. First, he would be like a man marooned at sea. Listless and devoid of all except grief and rage. Angry at the world that had torn him from his beloved. 
 
But it was easy to try and pin some of his failings onto his lover. It wasn’t as if he had acknowledged that he had a bit of a temper and a smart mouth. Just as much as they were one entity, they could also bring out the worst in each other, egging each other on until there was a point of no return. Yet their passion for each other had always resolved and soothed that hurt. However, Patroclus had always felt subconsciously that he had to make himself worthy of Achilles. It was a stupid fixation, maybe even the reason he had gotten himself killed. No, he was given that very fixation in the hope that he would be Achilles’ fall.
 
And fall he had.

____________________________________________________________________________

A strange box sat upon his bed; Alex cautiously picked it up, shaking it lightly. He wondered if it was a gift from his father. Hope rose in his chest before reality squashed it. His father barely remembered that they existed, let alone to be giving him gifts. Irritated, he wanted nothing more than to throw it. What good were trinkets if they could fix nothing?

“
Open it.
”

A voice prompted. He was startled at the bluntness of it. This was no ordinary gift; it was a boon from the Gods. A gift with a heavy price.
 
“
Show me you are smarter than your parents. You asked for a miracle, and now you have one.
”
 
If there was one thing his parents had instilled in him was to be careful in dealing with Gods, especially with what happened with him and that mysterious goddess. Their words and promises were fickle. 
 
“Why are you helping me?” he asked then, as an afterthought added, “I’m humbled but not worthy of your grace.” In case he was dealing with a particularly petty God.
 
Alexander swore he felt the grief in the statement, “
Because you are all I have left. Choose wisely, son of Patroclus.
”
 
It was strange as few ever called him the son of Patroclus only by his father’s claim.

Odd, but it made him trace his fingers around the box’s intricate drawings and solid lock.

Should he open it? It could be a trap or… He glanced at his brother, fitfully sleeping in his cradle. He and his brother’s last hope.
 
No, he could always open it late. For now, he placed it in his chest of treasure.

What if he had been handed yet another Pandora’s box. He needed to sleep.

______________________________________________________________

As much as she hated to admit it, Briseis had been right after Patroclus died. Things were not the same in the camps. Husbands and lovers had begun to look at them with something akin to discontent. 
 
Trojans had killed their leader’s lover, which led to him going mad, well madder. Pallias wondered just how much longer things would be stable, for there was no guarantee that these men would look after her sisters in arms and their bastards. Just look at Achilles; that crazy bastard had all but left his children to fend for themselves. These Greeks valued nothing, for nothing was sacred to these animals, not even the family ties.
 
No matter what the outcome of the war was, she would survive as she had before. 
 She would die before they beat her down as they once had before. 
______________________________________________________

“Achilles

,” a voice called.
 
Instantly he knew it was his Patroclus. In the moonlight laid next to him, there was his beautiful Patroclus.
 
Reaching out, his fingers passed right through his beautiful Patroclus, who only smiled at him ever so tenderly. 
 
Selene’s rays only highlighted the transparency of his body, and no matter how he tried, he was always out of reach. 
 
“Patroclus!!!”

___________________________
 
The scream echoed across the Myrmidon encampment, but they all tried to plug their ears. Their prince was dealing with something no one should ever experience, the death of a soulmate.
 
The death of the one person understood them above anyone else. Few could accompany a godling and live to become their heart. 
 
Patroclus had been Achilles’ greatest strength but also his greatest weakness. Now without him, they had no chance of reigning some of Achilles’ more callous nature. May the Gods help them all, but the Gods had long since abandoned them.

___________________________________

Days and nights passed much of the same until Patroclus decided to stop causing his beloved agony and see his children. He sat on the edge of Alex’s bed, brushing at the tacky tear marks. 
 
Oh, his poor child, this exactly what he meant; Alex and Kallias were all alone.
 
“It’s alright. I’m here, my sons. Mother is here; I won’t leave.” How could he bear to go down to Hades while his babies suffered? 
 
“Mama,” Alex called in his sleep while Kallias only sniffled, blinking his large eyes at him.
 
He was beautiful, his sweet son. How could Achilles leave him so defenseless, so thin?

________________________________________________________
 
“How curious,” Damocles thought, watching his mother ready the sail. Off to do Athena’s bidding, no doubt. That was the price for accepting the Gods’ favor; you jumped when they said jump. 
 
He and Androcles had asked numerous times where he and Odysseus were headed and received no definite answer. 
 
“And we can’t come.” His mother glanced back at him briefly, rolling his eyes as he did so.
 
“Silly greenhorn boys can’t come.” he sighed, pulling the ropes. 
 
It almost made him want to throw a tantrum. If he did, mother would never take him seriously. 
 
“I won’t be green forever; you had to learn. I need to.”
 
“And you will, but unlike me, you will become less green at an appropriate age.” Not thrust into kingship, barely fifteen. Grieving and alone, his heart truly went out to Achilles’ sons. The poor things were forfeit after Patroclus’s death. 
 
But he wasn’t sure what kind of father could just abandon their children to grieve. He understood that Patroclus was everything good in Achilles’ life, but this was spitting at his memory. He had nearly died to have those children; childbirth was no easy task, especially for a carrier. Gods, however, were crueler; just look at how Hera tossed her own child to the dirt. Carrying godblood made Achilles no exception.

_____________________________________________________________

Over the wall, a baby’s wail pierced the night.

“A boy,” a midwife announced, “Your highness.”
 
Andromache felt the dampness down her cheeks. A son, she had finally given him a son, and for what. Hector was gone, and soon Troy would fall too.
 
“Would you like to hold him?” the midwife asked tentatively. She didn’t blame her after all she had done these past few days was cry and mourn. But the time for self-pity was over, and she had a son to raise. If Troy fell, then her son would at least have a birthright. 
 
She raised her arms, and into them came the warm and fragile bundle of her son. Brushing a finger against his still bloody cheek. Andromache felt herself smile.
 
“Hello, my prince,” she greeted, kissing his forehead, “May you lead righteously in the stead of your father.”
 
Scamandrius as Hector wished to name him for the river god.

_______________________________________________________________
 
Little did she know that he would not live to rule. Thetis’ son would make good on that.

________________________________________________________________

Her steps were so fast; they made no sound on the polished marble.

She needed to see him now; there was no time for waiting. Her time for waiting was over.

Now they would have no choice but to honor their word. 
 
“
Zeus-,
” the words died in her throat when she realized it was Hera, not her husband on the throne.

“
Hera
,” she greeted amicably. They were still on rocky terms after she married Achilles to Daedameia.

Her emerald eyes narrowed, “
Thetis, what do I owe the pleasure?
”

“
My son, Achilles-
”

Hera elegantly raised a hand, “
I know all about that.”
 
“
Then you know that he has completed the prophecy; he is to be given what he is owed.
” She held herself up tall; her son was going to achieve everything they had dreamed of. He would never-
 
Hera twisted her wrist, a wall of water appeared before her. Thetis could only watch as her son walked the battlefield unaware of Paris’- no Apollo’s arrow aiming for his heart. He wore no armor, not even the one she had so painstakingly redeemed in his favor. Demigod or not, Apollo’s arrows were made to pierce flesh.
 
Looking away from the image, she turned to Hera, who lounged upon the throne, “
What is the meaning of this? He is to be celebrated, not slaughtered. He has killed Hector; this is worth some merit. Stop this at once.
”

However, she could only watch as the arrow came closer and closer to her son’s toga before an explosion of red across him.
 
Thetis crumbled to her knees. Hera’s laughter echoed as she watched her only child perish, her everything. Her son, Zeus, her son. 
 
Achilles. Achilles. Achilles.
 
 It was over. She had gambled everything and lost the most precious to her.

“
Why
,” she croaked.
 
"
You see, Thetis, We could never get to you, but Achilles was different; he was vulnerable. Lonely.
" Her fingertips traced at the edge of her throne, “
Starved for any type of affection,
” she said, standing her gown failing around her, “
We have you to thank for that.”

“
Achilles falling for Patroclus was no accident. In fact, it was orchestrated by Fate,
" she stopped in front of her, tightly grasping her chin. Thetis refused to flinch. Blue met green.
 
"
You were right when you said that boy would be Achilles' downfall. Everything that has happened to bring them together was only to tear them apart. Love you had never shown your child is what he sought out, and he found it with Patroclus. "
Hera leaned in close. 
 
"
A sweet child who loved him, whom you tormented out of jealousy. I had always meant for them to marry and have children. You interfered and made him lose his child. To add to his misery, he was forced to watch his beloved to marry another and father a child."
 
“They were destined before Achilles’ birth. Written in the very stars. Yet, you have continued to interrupt and poison his mind. What you promised him and what we promised him are two different things. In the end, Achilles made his choice, a choice that would make him great. But what did it cost? Everything.”
 
"
But they will never forget him. Take that as your condolences. All will remember him for his tantrum over a woman he hadn't bedded, his grief, and his rage. His immortality. "
Hera bowed mockingly.
 
"
A gift,"
she hissed, releasing her.
 
“
That’s not what I was promised. That’s not what I let myself be raped and married to that mortal for. ACHILLES WAS TO BE A GOD.”
 
Hera eyed the pitiful goddess in front of her, crouching down slightly grabbing her chin, “
He was promised to be greater than his father, whoever said he would be a God. You did. And you let your son believe that. Foolish, all know that we are fickle in our promises, the Fates even more. Achilles was never to be a god,
” she whispered almost like a lullaby.

“
We would never let such an untamed beast as that become a god.
” Hera sniffed, releasing her once more.
 
She had been deceived. Achilles had died for nothing. All that she had done had been for nothing. 
 
Thetis wept.
 
 Her cruelty and distance towards her child had led to his downfall. She had left him vulnerable and open to attack. All the hateful things she had done to his young lover, Patroclus, had been for nothing. The grandchild she had killed without a second thought. The monster of a grandson she raised. Everything to them had been a game, a cruel, sick game. Achilles had been a pawn on a board not even she had seen.

“
Achilles, my son. I’m sorry that I failed you like so.
”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was as if looking ten years into the past. Neoptolemus, or Pyrrhus as he preferred, was a sun-stained copy of Achilles. His manner, however, left one feeling very unsettled. It radiated a nature that outranked even Achilles' current state. He appeared to not even be in the realms of mortality but of Gods.
 
However, one thing was the same, the naivety of youth. Something not even Thetis could scrub away. Hope to meet his father, to obtain glory and riches. All of it. Odysseus hid a grin, this he could work with. Achilles was volatile and immoral. What he needed was someone willing to do anything for the cause. Even if the methods weren't always the most moral. Achilles had Patroclus to keep his nature and hands most clean. Who did this child have? 
 
Yet the grin the child gave him was blood-chilling," I'll come and end your war," the exact words as his father. Odysseus wondered if the child truly understood war. Or if he was only repeating what his goddess grandmother had spoon-fed him.
 
A life of deceit was all he had known but sometimes late at night. He wondered if the people he had used to keep Athena's favor had been worth it. All the ruined lives, but then he remembered his Penelope, his son. Regret was one thing, but he didn't feel that. It was more profound than that. Knowingly leading a lamb to slaughter, all while convincing it the path was safe. Forgiveness was something he would never obtain. Odysseus already knew that.

___________________________________________________________________________

Long after Odysseus had departed, Pyrrhus pondered if his father had felt as he had now. Preparing ships, weapons, and supplies. Had he been ready for war? His whole life, he had been primed for this moment. He had always dreamed of having a father. A man who he could look up to, someone who would love him and praise his accomplishments. 
 
He had done everything his grandmother had asked of him, yet when it came to the topic of his father.
 
Her face would grow tight, and she would only tell him, "
Be patient. You will see your father soon.
"
 
Soon was soon enough. He wanted to meet

Aristos Achaion

, wanted to meet his father. His grandmother told him little of his father, and he wanted to know about him. What was he like, his hobbies, but most importantly, did he love him? Was he proud of him?
 
Asking his mother yielded little results as she had little to say or was forbidden by his grandmother to say. 
 
"Your father," his mother paused, eyes growing sad at the thought of him, "you resemble him, not only in looks but abilities, Pyrrhus. When he ran, Gods, it was as if his feet touched the ground without leaving imprints."
 
"Do you think he would have been proud of me?" Her emerald eyes met his, and she smiled.
 
"You're his son, of course. He is proud of you. He loves you." 
 
His mother hugged him. It was so rare to see her, to have her affection, "I love you, mother."
 
"I love you too, my son. Please be safe and return to me." her hands grasped his. Warmth spread through him, "I promise, mother." 
 
Tomorrow, he was going away. Sailing to Troy.
 
Pyrrhus was going to see his father for the first time finally, perhaps even see the deceitful slut who had stolen his father from his mother. The way his mother had described him, Patroclus wasn't beautiful but had entrapped his father with his wiles. And if his grandmother was correct, he had even borne him two more sons. A threat to his inheritance would be dealt with when he rejoined his father. Whatever spell that man had over his father should be broken due to his death.

__________________________________________________

Thetis was still reeling from the death of her child, her Achilles. They had all made a fool of her. They laughed while she let her child suffer. Everything she had done, she had thought she had done it for the greater good. It had to make sense because otherwise, what had she endured would have been for nothing. What Achilles had endured had been for nothing.
 
And it all had been for nothing. She had nothing to show for. Her child was dead. Her grandchildren were already so entwined in the Fates' there was nothing left for her to do. Pyrrhus, she thought, would have redeemed her. But he had too much of his selfish mother in him and mixed with his upbringing and the ambrosia. She had given the Greeks the ultimate victory. At what cost? They would find out. 
 
Achilles had been too human for Gods, but Pyrrhus. She had burned all of humanity out of him. Something she had come to regret, no child should be that bloodthirsty or callous.
 
Alexander was a stupid and naive child, but he was just that a child. 
 
Pyrrhus was a child too, but he had grown too quickly. His appetite was not that of toy boats and candy but blood and wine.  
 
If she could take it all back, she would. Everything but it was too late; regrets would not bring back what had been lost.
 
She and the others would simply have to see this play out to the end.

________________________________________________________________

"Hmm, what are you doing, precious?" Brieseis hummed to Kallias. The listless infant only gurgled again. Oh, how her heart yearned for that once bubbly and chubby babe. A babe that resembled her Patroclus so much. Even now, all she could think of was cursing Achilles. May the damned bastard rot in Tartarus for all of eternity for his sins. Yet Patroclus would spend most of his eternity mourning the bastard. She could only hope that this war would end. The sooner, the better...
 
"Nanny, there are ships at the dock," Alex cut off her train of thought.

Ships? They were supposed to be departing not… She thrust Kallias into Alex's arms.

"Stay here; I'll go see what is going on."

Achilles was dead; there was no reason for supplies to keep coming. She had a bad feeling about these ships. 
 
From the back of the crowd, she crowed with the other Trojan women. Their lovers had all but turned frosty, and they were at their mercy. They were going home to their wives and legitimate wives and children. They had no reason to keep their bed slaves and bastards near. To be left in the ruins of their once-great city while her destroyers sailed away. At least she took solace in the fact that Alexander was taking her as his Nanny or, better yet, Kallias's Nanny. The poor child was being crushed under the weight of expectation, too much for a mere child to bear.

Again she cursed Achilles, selfish bastard leaving his children all alone. He had promised Patroclus to care for them and look at what he had done, get himself killed. Idiot. Gods how she hated him but at the same time, she mourned her friends.
 
 They had been a family, at least until she had been betrayed. Even now, she remembered them. This is all that was left. They were all that was left of Achilles and Patroclus. The ashes, the survivors. The aftermath.
 
Suddenly she felt something bump against her. At her side was Alex, with Kallias slung across his chest.
 
"I told you there were ships, Nanny. I just don't know why. Father is-," he stopped composing himself, "Grandfather must not have heard the news. We-." After that, he said no more, only observing. 
 
Kallias appeared content in his makeshift cradle as he made no sound, not even a gurgle. 
 
On the beach, there were men in colors of faded blue, but their armor held a golden gleam at the helm of them. Her breath stopped. There was no way, Achilles was dead, yet he was here in the flesh. Yet, she realized a moment later that Achilles' hair was never that crimson even with the stains of the innocent. But Achilles had only ever laid...oh, this must be that woman's son. Achilles' true firstborn.

This was not. Her charges were young but just as legitimate for few know of Achilles' first marriage. His union with Patroclus had been longer, but with a fresh army backing him, all fiction could be made truth. 
 
She quickly ushered them into their parents' hut. Gathering all that she deemed valuable, she bid Alex hide it in her tent. It was a fraction of what was there, but it would not be missed. Just enough in case they had to make a new life.

"Nanny," Alex breathed. However, she hushed him.

"That boy is your older half-brother…I"

"What do you mean-," suddenly, he realized an uncomfortable truth.

"My parents were wed and bonded by the Gods?"

Breieis wasn't sure, but surely whatever Achilles and Patroclus had was more profound even than marriage.
 
"I'm not sure, but until then, stay here with your brother. Don't venture out too far."

When she ventured back to the beach, the procession had scattered, but she saw Odysseus right at the young man's shoulder. If Patroclus told her was correct, this boy should be Alex's age, but why did he look like a grown man? Even at thirteen, he should not be so mature, and… she froze as the crowd parted as if to embrace him.
 
"I have come to an end this war," he proclaimed, and they cheered. However, he held up a hand, "but first, my father needs to be laid to rest."
 
So the ch-man did not know his father had died until he reached the shore. More of Odysseus’ underhanded tricks again. Yet, there was a spark of hope in the air for the first time since Achilles passed. The war was to end. Everyone would all be better off, except for herself and her charges. Few associated with her claiming she brought ruin to Patroclus and Achilles. This made it all the more challenging to look after Alex and Kallias. 
 
She could rely on the fact they shared the blood of

Aristos Achaion. Still, she

knew from noble families. The princes were considered bastards. No matter how Achilles claimed Patroclus had been his for years, age trumped the truth. 
 
For now, she would wait and see, until then, foster the children under her wing until she could get them somewhere safe.

_______________________________________

For most of his life, Alex had been an only child, or at least he had thought so. He wished for a sibling all his life, and he had gotten it with Kallias; however, this brother made him uneasy. He wasn't sure why. Everything had been in a state of chaos since his father died. He had known- they all had, but it didn't make it any easier to see your father bloodied and lifeless. Alex thanked the Gods Kallias would remember none of this. He was finally eating more and regaining weight but still nowhere where he should be to be healthy. They both cried less, too; they simply were too exhausted. Then there was a chance for them to be shunned from their father's homeland because of their possible illegitimacy.

Gods, he prayed that his grandfather would still welcome them even after everything. Alex could look after Kallias, but he needed help, and Nanny was trying her best. He would give up his status as a prince if only to look after his brother; they were all they had now. 
 
"
You still haven't opened the box, have you,
" Alex jumped at the appearance of the voice.
 
"I'm -," he wasn't sure how to address this God.
 
Either way, the voice paid him no mind and continued, "
Make your choice before it is too late. All will be lost. You have until the next moon. Otherwise, there will be nothing else I can do for you."
The God had left just as quickly as they had come. 
 
Why the moon? Alex glanced over to check on his brother, cradling the strangle box. Not yet, he had to wait; something was telling him to wait. Now wasn't the time.

___________________________________________________

She had been so careful to keep the children from their brother's gaze; however, it was Phiniox who introduced them all. Immediately she felt the way his eyes caressed her skin while he assessed Alexander. She had left Kallias to Automedon for his safety. Greetings between the brothers were stilted and awkward, but her charge pushed through.
 
It was made all the more uncomfortable when Alexander introduced himself and the scope of his parentage. "I'm Alexander, son of Achilles and Patroclus." At Patroclus' name, the temperature dropped.
 
However, Pyrrhus's cold gaze had not softened as he smirked, "I'm Neoptolemus, son of Aristos Achaion and Princess Dedaemia of Skyros. The rightful wife of Prince Achilles, brother." She felt he added the end just to be spiteful. Alex blinked but called no attention to it.
 
"Brother, may we put aside our differences to mourn our father. Send him off to rest with a grand feast…" Alex faltered at the end at his brother's stare. Oh, Patroclus, what a kind and naive child you raised. Neoptolemus was mocking him. There was no sense of brotherhood when he called into question your mother's status as Achilles' husband. 
 
"Of course, brother, we shall, but first, I wish to rest. There is much to prepare for…."

________________-

There was only one son of

Aristo Achaion,

and that would be him.

___________________

White ashes rained from the air, coating his cheek in gentle kisses. The smell of smoke once again reached his nose, and by the Gods, it was so much worse. Even if there was no slaughter this time, it was knowing that he was alone in the world. He and his brother both. Orphaned by pride and folly. 
 
At the helm of it all was his brother, Pyrrhus. He led all of the preparations for their father's funeral. They stood united, but he realized it was a front for their people. His brother had made that quite clear. He and his brother were regarded as less than for their mother. The very same mother who risked his life for the Greeks. The same who had quickly forgotten his sacrifice and cast them all aside. Their father had been right. They all should have died instead. Now their family was in shambles, but there was nothing to put the piece back together. 
 
"Tonight, we honor

Aristo Achaion

, my father."

Ours,"

Alex thought tiredly

.

"

He led us to a great victory. A victory, we his sons will lead," Pyrrhus clapped him on the shoulder, Alex hid a wince. By Hades, he was strong. A cheery facade he showed the crowd, but his eyes told a different story, "

There is no us, only me. Only I'm worthy.

"
 
Alex, too, played his role, going along with the script. 
 
"Of course, brother." Ha, the only brother he knew was Kallias.

___________________________________________

Even if his soul had long departed from his body, Patroclus laid on his chest. As the flames consumed him, they were two souls of the same body. It wouldn't be long before their ashes were mixed. He was torn between joining his beloved and leaving his children. Yet, he could take no more of this torment. This day in and day out of watching his children's suffering. As the flames rose higher and his Achilles became little more than charred bones, he laid there in the ashes. When he got to the afterlife, Achilles would know no peace. He would vex him for all eternity. Bastard. Patroclus cursed, but even then, his heart was always soft when it came to Achilles.

_________________

With all of the other women, she carefully collected the ashes of the once-great Achilles to be joined with, that of his beloved. Soon they would be entombed in one urn for all of eternity. 
 
Yet as they went to begin touching the sharp shades of bone and ash, tall women of a bluish hue knocked them away. Their webbed fingers worked much more effectively than theirs. Briseis realized what she was witnessing was the sea nymphs of Thetis. Beings of the sea who were as free as the tides. Offhandedly she wondered if Achilles had webbed toes and hidden gills too. After all, he was born to the most prominent sea nymph of them all. Now she would never know. 
 
She and the other women watched them mystified. When they finished, an elaborate urn embedded with pearls and shells held all that remained of Achilles. They disappeared just as quietly and silently as they had come before. 
 
Cautiously she and the other women stared a moment before carrying it back into camp.
 
Briseis prayed for her charges as they had lost yet another parent. And not for the hundredth time she cursed Achilles. Gilless bastard.

__________________________________________________________________

Thetis closed her eyes. All of the necklaces and trinkets she had kept for his birthday now guarded his ashes. Ashes he had wished to mix with Patroclus. There was no longer any fight left in her.
 
Oh, the irony was not lost on her. The fate she had spent so many years trying to avoid only for it to be much worse. Never had she pictured her son's death in her wildest dreams, for it is so cruel.
 
For the first time since his birth, Thetis wailed. A wail that overshadowed the waves themselves.

Pain so profound all would recognize the wail of a mourning mother. There was no greater horror than a mother who lost a child.

____________________

Alex sat at his brother's side, but there was no familial closeness. His brother by the Gods, there was no other way to describe him but vulgar. Pawing at the serving girls and the way he looked at Nanny was chilling. Yet, he could understand why Nanny's beauty was on par with his mother's own. 
 
Suddenly everything was too blurry, and his face felt too hot. No, this was the last place he wanted to cry and show weakness. Not here in front of his people and this monster.

Slowing his breathing and blinking rapidly helped clear the worst of tears threatening to fall. Yet if only he knew how much worse his night was to get.

Pyrrhus' goblet banged against the table, "There should be a grand monument built in my father's honor. One so that none will forget his name or his sacrifice. When we conquer Troy, all shall witness his valor and greatness."
 
His blood ran cold. Alone his father was to be separated from his mother in death. If there was one thing his father had wanted, it was that.
 
Boldness overcame fear, "There should be a monument," for a moment, his brother looked at him in approval. Still, Alex knew his following words would kill that, "celebrating both Aristos Achaion and my mother, Patroclus. He saved us all when the Trojans were close to burning our boats." The crowd cheered, good he wanted them to remember all that his parents had sacrificed. Their deaths had helped to advance the war.
 
Alex subtly glanced at his brother, whose fist gripped the goblet so tightly; his fingers were but pale bone. He hid a grin.

_____________________

Why was everyone so sad? He wanted his mother, but no matter how much he cried, his mother never appeared. Brother was always there, but frequently he was gone too. The arms that were holding him were unfamiliar. He missed mother so much, but crying didn't bring him closer, so he stopped.

_______________________

That bastard would regret having ever opened his mouth. Pyrrhus swore it.

____________

The news was spreading quickly throughout the camps. They had regained all of the land lost since his parents died. Troy was nearly in their grasp. 
 
Until then, he played a waiting game toying with the mysterious box. He flicked at the latches several times only to stop himself from opening them altogether. Would he be the next Pandora? Dooming all of humanity for the second time. Or would this box bring a solution to his grieving heart? Was he willing to gamble with his loved ones' for this one chance?

Mother, I need you more, not than ever.

__________________________

If she was to compare Pyrrhus to his father, one thing she could say at least Achilles had a soul. This beast that called itself his son lacked one. There was no life in those bottomless eyes. Only a desire to subdue or slaughter. How unfortunate for her to have caught his eye, but she was thankful that it was her and not someone else. For some odd reason, he was fixated on the doe-eyed serving girl from Menaleus' camp, muttering how men said she resembled Patroclus. That wasn't true, some foolish men had once brought her before Achilles to ease his grief, and he nearly took their heads off.
 
"
Bring her to me again, and that time, you'll lose your heads. She is but an imitation of his beauty, a shard compared to his brilliance."
Achilles snarled at them. She found herself agreeing while they both shared a darker complexion, wide brown eyes, and pouty red lips. The similarities ended there.
 
That didn't ease her suffering when it came time to please him. Other serving girls had bathed him, preparing to serve her to him. She was an offering to his victory. But wasn't he afraid of inheriting his father's luck? For all their sakes, she hoped he would fail.

_______________________________

By the time she returned, the children were in bed. Kallias wrapped tightly in his brother's embrace, Alex guarding him in sleep as if his life depended on it. Gods, these poor children. Easing herself beside them, she breathed deeply to stop the flow of her tears. He was a monster, and she had to protect them even if it cost her everything.

_____________________

What kind of monster had Thetis raised? By the Gods. No one had stopped this miscarriage of justice. All too concerned with giving the young warrior his due.
 
Everyone he visited could not see or hear him. He tugged, screamed, and in Thetis' case, hit. Not even a goddess could hear him. He was a shade. One of the Underworld but Achilles had taken too long for his burial rites, so he was neither. He was trapped in this lifeless limbo. None could hear him, and he was no use to his loved ones. 
 
Even as he screamed, none could hear him.

_________________________

While planning their next battle, the one that will surely bring Troy to its knees. Achilles' monument comes up again. Patroclus lingers at his right hand, a spot in which Idomeneus has taken. 
 
"Where should we build your father's tomb," Agamemnon says lazily. The boy-no man peers at him.
 
"In the field in which he fell," Pyrrhus begins. He pays no mind to that bastard's input for his own whore mother to be buried beside him. Patroclus' highest honor was serving his father in bed, something he could well be rewarded for in the afterlife. Without besmirching his father's legacy. 
 
"Bury him on top the hill looking into Troy, a remembrance of all that he has achieved," Odysseus suggested, "Prince Achilles and Patroclus will rest finally. As we take the final battle for Troy. He had owed the young couple much more than they had deserved. In the end, both were dead, and all that was left were their children.
 
Pyrrhus paid them no mind, "My father will be buried alone. That is all there is to it. A slave has no right to his master tomb."
 
"You do not have the only say. Your brother is within his rights to say how his parents are buried," Nestor injected.
 
"Then my brother can bury his mother as he chooses, but my father is to be buried alone," Pyrrhus cooly replied, "They were not wed, so it does not matter. A firstborn son holds more sway than a bastard ever will."
 
With that, he leaves, the council is stunned.

"They were not wed." a murmur drifts along the crowd. 
 
"What did it matter? Achilles desired him above any other. It is easy to see who he loved more. We knew nothing of this son until he came. Patroclus was by all intent his legal spouse," a Myrmidon argued back.
 
From there, Patroclus departs; he can't stand to hear of it anymore. Of course, he and Achilles had been wed but not in the way of the Gods. 
 
Only when he sits with his children does he numbly realize that they will not bury him with Achilles. Pyrrhus is too hateful to allow him to surpass his own mother in Achilles' burial. They will not reunite in the afterlife. Nor will he ever get the chance to ever see his children when they pass.
 
This he feared more than being forgotten. He cared nothing for these so-called acclaims of glory but his family

. Achilles, Alexander, Kallias, I'm sorry I was so reckless.

_________________________________________________________________

Despite his brother having all but taken control of the Myrmidons, they defer more to him. They despise the Scyros soldiers mixing and blending with their own.
 
"Little prince," his people whisper to him, "lead us." the Gods know that if he does. He will have to leave Kallias alone. If he dies in battle, none will care for or love his brother, the brother that had cost his mother's life. 
 
He ignores them. Alex does not know if that makes him a coward, but a coward is better than abandoning his brother. After that, his power diminishes. He cares nothing but for his brother's well-being. Bastard or not. He prays his mother will forgive him for the choice he makes. 
 
That all changes as his father's monument is built, and the unimaginable happens. 
 
He should have taken power offered to him if he had to suffer this grief.

___________________________________________________

Brieseis ventured to the tomb under cover of darkness, kneeling down. Grief crushing her heart once more, Patroclus had been so kind and Gods she had loved him more than any other. Even more so, her husband. This would have to be done before Achilles' ashes joined his. 
 
Their one wish was to be buried together, but it was not to be. Pyrrhus planned to damn Patroclus for all eternity, and he was owed rest with his lover. Pouring his ashes carefully into the box, cradled it close to her heart.  Her breath came out in a gasp of pain. Oh Patroclus.
 
Now wasn't the time to fall apart. She had a mission. Kallias was due for his milk soon.

She was digging a shallow hole with her hands and carefully placed the box in the hole. She painstakingly started to carve his name, taking out the smooth stone he had once given her. She didn't know how it was in Greek, but she carved it in her own language.

Patroclus.

It read across it. Covering the hole, she hoped it would be enough. That he could find peace.
 
They both could.
 
She rose, yet a hand gripping her wrist made her fall back.
 
"What are you doing!" Pyrrhus growled, gripping her wrist even tighter.
 
She had to think fast, "I was only paying tribute to

Aristos Achaion."

He laughed because she lies. Prryhus watched as she mourns for his father's dead slut. 
 
"Is that so?" he questions, shaking her wrist above her head. The firelight shows her crooked handwriting against the stone. 
 
Anatolian letters, which no doubt read Patroclus.
 
"Tell me then what is this." A madness overcame her then. It was as if she had finally snapped. 
 
Caught, she has no choice but to reveal the truth, and Pyrrhus will be merciful to her. Instead, she spits at him. 
 
“He was

Aristos Achaion

not Achilles. He died for the greater good of us all. Without him-"

Even struck, she continued, there would be no mercy found in the blood of Achilles' firstborn, so she sealed her fate. 
 
"I love him more than any other, and Achilles loved him more than he would ever love you." At the final blow, she raised her leg and kicked him where a man was weakest. 
 
In the light of the rising morning. Pyrrhus regains his bearing and chases her. Fueled by fury and ordering his soldiers to capture her. However, if she was to die, she would die with dignity. Meeting the tide of the shore, she ripped her sandals off and swam against the tide. With any luck, she could escape him. Perhaps she had truly gone mad. How would she swim forever against the tide.  
 
However, that thought was cut short as a sharp pain ripped through her shoulder. Then she realized he had caught her, it was over.
 
The last thing Breises saw was the all-consuming gleam of the morning sun against the water as she sank to the bottom. She was free. 
 
Her only regret is leaving Patroclus' children behind once more.

___________________________

He sank to his knees. Patroclus had known he was cruel. However, not even he could have imagined this. Breiseis' only crime was trying to help him to the afterlife and now who would bury her.
 
"Thetis," he yelled into the expanse of blue, "I know you can hear me!" But if he had hit her arm and nothing had come of it. There would be no answer from her.

"Come and get your damned beast, Your soulless beast, you DAMNED WRETCH!"

Gods only know how long he stood there screaming obscene curses at sea, but it was all calm. 
 
Bowed against the sand, he wept. Wept for all he had to witness, for his children, for his dearest friend, Briseis.

_________________________________________________________
A hand was shaking him. Alex tightened his grip on his still sleeping brother.
Blinking up, found the handshaking him, attached to a hooded figure, "Come, quickly."
 
Alex yanked his arm back and stared until the figure sighed and released the hood. A mop of dark hair and ocean blue meet his. Him. Oh. He was too tired even to muster a feeling of anger at seeing him. He was a relic of a happier time. One in which he had hope.
 
"Come pack your things. We have to go," the older boy told him. Alex hesitated, glancing at his brother, who stirred slightly.
 
"Why?"
 
Amyntor shook his head, "I do this because your life's in danger. Your brother will kill you. You and your brother both. He is not the type to spare others. I know of his kind well." If that was the case.
 
"I can't. He…". They shared the same blood, after all. 
 
“Your Nanny is dead. Your brother has killed her.” There was no gentle way to break this to his fair prince. 
 
“What?” She had just tucked them in. There was no way. She couldn’t… he couldn't lose her too. 
 
Amyntor brushed at his tears, there would be time to grieve but not now.
 
“There is no time to waste, we must go. And we will go now.”
 
Why was he helping them? As if reading his mind, the older boy answered?
 
"I'm repaying the kindness that you once showed me." Amyntor gently lifted his baby brother into his arms. Kallias barely stirred.
 
Alex gaped at him for that? All he had done was because he had been in need.
 
"I did it because it was the right thing to do, not for reward."

The monster that claimed to be a brother was simply biding its time. They had to go now because they were born to Prince Consort, which put them in great danger. 
 
"Pack what you can, and I'll hide you. Our ship will leave first thing in the morning." Alex nodded, quickly gathering a bag with supplies, and in a smaller bag, he filled it with gold and other jewels. Thinking it over, he filled another bag and handed it to the older boy.
 
"Take this as a show of gratitude, I have little to offer you now, but I'm grateful. Please know this for my brother and me both." The boy looked like he wanted to hand it back instead of tucked it into his cloak. Alex ensured he had everything and took his brother back into his arms. Gods, how he missed the days when his brother was heavy and had rolls, now he weighed next to nothing. A far cry from the chubby and happy baby he had been.
 
In the darkness, they headed to the harbor, "Where will the ship take us?" Alex realized he should have asked that first, but he was tired. Tired of trying to be more mature than he felt. 
 
"Close to Pthita, your grandfather is king there, is he not?" Alex nodded, but he had never met the man. Would he even take them in now that their status as bastards had been revealed? All these years, he thought his parents were wed, but Gods… 
 
His father loved none more than he had their mother. 
 
"Will he accept us, I wonder?" Alex mused more to himself than to his company.
 
"You have written to him over the years surely he will after the-" Amyntor stopped himself, remembering that not even days ago, his prince buried both his parents. 
 
"I hold no standing in the eyes of the Gods and the law. I have no proof to protect us. He could cast us out, and none would…" Alex felt heat build up behind his eyes. He and his brother were all alone in the world, none to care for them. Few could. Nanny had risked her life, and for what? His brother had done such a horrible thing to her. Gods, tears fell then.

"If he does not accept you, then come to my homeland." Amyntor blurted out before wishing to smack himself. 
 
"I live there with my mother and sister. Our farm is small, but… you would be welcome, of course," he continued if only to stop his distress. Their grandfather would take them because there was no way to deny their claims because of how similar they resembled both A

ristos Achaion

and his lover.
 
His prince wiped at his eyes, "Really?" Gods, he was lovely.
 
His eyes softened, "Of course," he said, stowing them under the deck, "wait here, I'll be back soon."
 
Glancing at the baby still asleep, "Will he stay quiet until we are at sea?" 
 
Alex sighed, "He cried nonstop before now he does nothing but sleep. He barely drinks the milk I dip into a rag for him to suckle. He mourns my mother deeply…." 
 
Ah, that could be a problem. If the little prince woke up and Pyrrhus found them, it would be a disaster. 
 
"Is there any medicine you can feed to keep him quiet?" Alex's head titled a moment before he remembered. "Yes, but… I didn't take it. It's in my mother's chest…." They both fell silent, located in the same room as the tyrant.
 
They were going to have to go without. 
 
"Try your best to keep him quiet. I'll think of something to keep him fed and quiet."
 
This was not going as well as he had hoped by the Gods. But if left there, Pyrrhus would not spare them. However, he wouldn't yet as they were more valuable alive, symbolizing unity. The sons of

Aristos Achaion

together.
 
Amyntor cursed the man for leaving his children so unprotected.

_______________________________________________________________

His brother was much more intelligent than he had previously assumed. It was such a good thing he had run. Otherwise, he would have killed them. They were a stain on his father's legacy.
 
Someone must have tipped him off and caused them to run. That was fine, as long as they knew their place. Such filthy things were not fit to claim

Aristos Achaion as a

father. Such a shame their whore mother had died. Otherwise, he would have had a bed slave. Then again, what did he want with his father's ugly and used whore? Troy had so many beauties, and they were all his for the taking. 
 
He was going to be greater than his father.

____________________________________________________________________________

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Watching his children steal into the night like thieves broke his heart. Yet, at the same time, he was relieved that they would be safe from Pyrrhus' cruelty. Tears fell slowly into the sand. This was the last he would ever see of his children. Patroclus no longer cared if he was forgotten, but this was more painful. To not know if his children would live well or if their ship would make the long journey. He stared at the sail of the ship until it disappeared from view.  
Goodbye, my sons. May you live well. 
_______________________________The shores of Troy were nearly faded from his sight, yet all one could see was smoke. From fighting or campfire, he didn't know. The place in which he was born and raised. He felt mournful for it, yet at the same time relief. His parents had come here hoping for a miracle, a war that lasted a year. Only he and Kallias were the survivors. Gods, just the thought of his parents brought him to tears. War had destroyed everything they had held dear and yet. Alex knew that one day he would have to face it. His brother would have to face it. Alex closed his eyes, snuggling his brother close.  If he had one regret. It was hiding behind her and not taking charge. He should have fought for her and for his mother's sake. He was thirteen. Now he had to be a man. Alex had to now. Kallias depended on him. "I'll promise you, brother. I'll take care of you. You will know no hardship. Not even a scrape to your knee." Alex vowed, kissing his brother's curls.  Right now, they were sailing to Pthtia in the hopes of meeting their grandfather. The war was all but solved with his brother at the helm. By the Gods, he prayed that the monster would die in Troy. It was cruel to wish on one's brother; however, he deserved it and more. His poor Nanny. ____________________________________ "Prepare the ships for departure," Pyrrhus ordered; Phiniox nodded stiffly. The old man set out to do his task with no title or bow. His brothers disappearing in the confusion of them departing Troy had not boded well for morale. That didn't matter; he had no plans to rule Phthia. His grandmother had already warned him, " Make your fortune elsewhere, for it will not be as prosperous as your kingdom ." Even so, it was challenging to get the Myrmidons to trust him, thinking he had slaughtered their precious princes. As if. However, they were going to obey him. They had no one else. Their last hope had gone.  Pyrrhus hoped his bastard brother was smart enough to stay away from Pthtia or else. If he could have all that was promised to him, then his brother would know no peace. In the distance, he spied his father's monument, "I hope you are watching over me, father." ____________________________________________________________________________It hadn't taken much for the Trojans to believe that they were weakened by Achilles' death. Which he took full advantage of, along with their patriotism.  So what if the Trojans had burned some of their ships weeks before. Others were glad to sacrifice for the cause. Some had sailed away eager to be on the standby for the finale. Others had long sailed for home. A prince of Athens had departed with his soldiers, Odysseus prayed their journey would be safe. There was precious cargo aboard, after all.  In the distance, 4,000 or so ships were off, the rest torn down in his next strategy. Now he had to bet on the pride of the Trojans. After all, few would reject such a majestic horse for their city. _____________________"A STORM IS COMING!" At the shout, Alex settled with his brother near a rower's bench, trying to keep them dry. A shock of cold rushed up at his ankles as the ship rocked and groaned against the rough waves. Saltwater came from every angle, drenching him. While trying to keep himself and Kallias relatively dry, he was also keeping them upright. His brother was crying, distraught by the storm and rushing water. Alex tried to calm him before they were discovered. Gods only know what would happen to them this far out. There was nothing but open seas, not an island to be seen. "Prince."  Alex jumped when Aymtor wrapped his cloak around him. It helped very little against his already soaked clothing but was a kind gesture nonetheless. Kallias continued his wails of displeasure as he rocked and cooed at him. Perhaps he was a little hungry. Gods know Alex was. Feeling eyes on him, he rushed to explain, "I-he's frightened by the storm." Before the other spoke, it was a long moment, glancing up at the rafter and then back at him. "It's alright we have long past Troy. An island should be up ahead," he said, sitting in the spot next to him, "It's alright, I promise you it's alright." No, it wouldn't be alright. His parents were dead. He exhaled a shaky breath and tried to smile, but tears came instead.  "Oh, I'm sorry," he murmured, bundling his brother closer. Aymtor didn't acknowledge his tears but only wrapped an arm around him.  "It'll be alright. You're safe here." And like that, a dam burst, and he sobbed with his brother. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------When his prince's tears had dried, he offered him a meager ration of gruel. A gruel in which he ensured that his brother was fed first.  "There you are," Alex cooed at his brother, who sucked at the rag. He thanked every God he could think of for his brother's appetite returning. He couldn't say the same for his own. He was too tense to even think of eating. However, not wanting to waste it, he choked it down.  "Thank you." Not just for this but for saving their lives. The older boy only nodded, but his blue eyes told a million words and then some.  "I'm happy to do it for you. Always." He meant every word. There was nothing he wouldn't do for him. ______________________________________________________They had all thought her a madwoman when she spoke of Troy's end. They listened to the priestess and priests when it came to the war effort but mocked and scorned her. Chalked her ravings up to madness, yet it was all Apollo's doing. He had made his wraith clear after she refused his attention. A God's affection brought nothing but misery to the person and bloodline. Their family had been cursed ever since Zeus laid his eyes on her ancestor, Ganymede.  No, it stretched further than even him, and all roads pointed to Apollo. Apollo's obsession with their family ran deep, with a score of them serving as his lovers or champions. Her older brother went from devoted worshiper to a bloody pawn.  Where did it begin? She pondered it, something about their bloodline drove the God to the brink of devotion, but he was oddly capricious with it. When were the Gods not mercurial with their affections. Troy had been a whim, an amusement, but now they were bored.  And from her balcony, she witnessed the last of it.  The Gods had finally abandoned Troy. Their prize was a wooden horse filled to the brim with Greek soldiers.  Cassandra howled from the sheer ridiculousness of it. Screaming and tearing at her hair, proclaimed, "Troy, your own undoing isn't the Greeks but you all OF YOUR DAMNED HUBRIS." She laughed and laughed as her nurse fought to bring her down from the balcony's ledge. "HUBRIS, YOUR DAMNED HUBRIS!!!" "TROY WILL FALL TONIGHT, "she screamed, "THEY'LL BURN IT AS WE SLEEP……."________________________________Panic and chaos ran rampant throughout the palace. Everyone scrambled to avoid their fate, but even from where she could see. Andromache knew that this was the beginning of the end. Troy was done. Where was their city's patron god Apollo? Abandoning Troy in her great hour of need. All the time her husband had wasted praying to him, and for what? Quite typically for Gods. Either way, she would not go down without a fight. Most of the royal family had evacuated to the vault, but she dared not; that would be the first place they would search. She had sent her young prince away in the hope he would avenge them all.  "Bring me my armor," she ordered her attendant. "Princ-" Time was running out. There was to be no arguing or pleading, only survival.  "We don't have time for this. Bring my spear and armor. I won't ask again," she ordered again. This time her attendant scurried off to her chest. The last strap slid into place and spear in hand. She was ready, even if she died. Andromache died with dignity. Like Hell, would she allow those Greek dogs to violate her?____________________________________If Achilles hadn't had Patroclus to temper his rage. Automedon imagined Troy would look similar, if not worse. Everything was engulfed in hot flames, smoke thick and coying. Pandemonium, indeed Hades' own domain. By the Gods, he prayed that his princes were safe and that they had escaped because… He could not bear it. If the children he had delivered had met such unfortunate ends. He refused to raise his sword for a man who had not harmed his younger brothers.  Many Myrmidons felt the same, but what could they do? Their ruling family had been extinguished. All they had left was the usurper whose rule was cemented by Thetis' presence. A victorious shout rang out to the left, Automedon flinched. Pyrrhus had taken an infant and bashed it against the wall of Troy. What was victorious for slaughtering an infant? Then if he had harmed his brother, it wouldn't be the first._______________________________________________________Day after day of violent waves and blackened skies. A sickness had taken root in his lungs, and Kallias was no better. He had brought nothing from their mother's chest of medicine. So there was little he could do but cradle his brother close as his breaths came slower and slower. Breathing felt like inhaling sharp glass and burning each time I exhaled. Every breath was a struggle. It took all of his strength. Alex was sure he was running a fever, but at the same time, he felt so cold. There was nothing left to do but pray, but what would God answer them?  Suddenly, Alex recalled tucked in a bag was something that could change everything. Scrambling to undo the latches, he frowned. What was inside was nothing that lived up to his expectations. Inside the box was a finely carved instrument of metal and curved glass. How was this to solve his issue? A pretty trinket but…. Yet the God never failed to appear, " Turn it. Hurry, I can only shield them for so long… ." Turn it? How there was nothing to do, Alex lifted it out of the box, shifting it on its side. Oh. Alex flipped it and flipped it again for good measure. And nothing happened. Was it too late for a miracle? For once, the voice was silent. He was all alone. Once more, nothing. A whole night he spent turning the damned instrument and nothing. At last, Alex got up.__________________________ Struggling to get above deck, everything is damned. How foolish was he to believe in the fickle worlds of the Gods? He should have learned from his parents' blind faith in the Gods. And where had that gotten them but dead?  Hadn't he learned his lesson?  Why hadn't he learned his lesson?  Why was HE SO STUPID ?! He couldn't even save his brother. Worthless, absolutely worthless. Alex clung to the railing, heaving and struggling for every breath.  The waves tossed powerfully below, and with every bit of strength, he had flung it as far as he could. An act of rebellion which quickly repaid him, sapping him of his strength. Resting against the railing, watched as the sea swallowed it. He had no time for childish notions or games. The time for them was over. Dawn crested against the horizon, and all was clear to him.  He and Kallias were going to survive, and there was one thing he was sure of.  Never again would his family be pawns of the Gods.________________________________________________Touching the bottom, a soft light beamed from the delicate instrument of time. _______________________________________________________The fear that hung over his existence had finally vanished. Watching Troy burn brought him no satisfaction. It only added to his grief. Somewhere in his naive heart, he had believed he could have changed this city's fate. Changed his own. Where had it gotten him? His husband dead, and their children were lost to the seas. What did Patroclus have left?    What was there left for him? For any of them. What had been the cause or reason for all this senseless suffering. All of it was pointlessly ordained and acted out like a sick play. He would have cried had he had any tears left to cry. So he sat there dry-eyed, watching the setting sun, praying his sons would find a home. Their home of blue water and lush forests, of stories and love. Quieter prayed that Achilles would forgive him._________________________________________________Aymtor found his prince collapsed against the railing, skin burning with fever and blood soaking his tunic. "Prince Alex!" he cried in alarm. He had no skill with medicine but would aid him in any way he could. Jewel eyes met his gaze tiredly, "I'm not dying," he said, taking another slow breath, "not yet anyway." Then what was all this blood? He only knew that those with the plague that bled like that. His prince pushed off his concern. Shaking his hands off and getting into a low crouch slowly stands."My brother needed me," and with that, he staggered below deck. _________________________________"LAND AHEAD !" a voice bellowed from above. Alex tiredly raised his head. Land finally, after weeks spent on this blasted ship. Kallias could use the fresh air. "An island, Kallias," he said to the infant, "that means sunshine and freshwater."That got him a curious gurl. "Yes, that's right."And land meant there would be herbs. There was a chance for this sickness to leave them.Alex wobbled his way to the deck, and there it was…. White sand and grassy inland. Turquoise water, this was it. Just as mother described. They were saved."Kallias," he murmured to his brother, "everything is going to be okay now.""I promise, everything is alright. We're home."
Their home, but to Alex, this was a stranger's land. He had been birthed on Trojan soil this place gave him no warmth. But here was the last of his family. The great king Peleus.

"I suppose we part here," Amyotor murmured, glancing at their intertwined hands and then back palace overlooking the sea.

Alex glanced at it but was reluctant to let go of his savior's hand.

"My grandfather will surely reward you greatly for seeing us back home." He said this but there was no guarantee his grandfather would accept him or Kallias. 
"Shall we?" More than anything he wanted to turn and run but Kallias needed care.__________________________________________________________It was as if was looking ten years into the past, his son had returned. Peleus could only beckon the child closer. "Child, what is your name?" he asked even if he knew. Who else could resemble his son, his brightness? All lost now. Both his sons lost to that terrible war."Alexander," Alexander began, "son of Prince Achilles and his Prince consort, Patroclus." He paused to introduce the bundle in his arms."And this is my brother, Kallias. He is only eight months old." he faltered at the older man's reaction. A soft smile and hand waved him closer."Ah let me see him," Alex cautiously placed the infant in the older man's arms. "Named by your father, I suppose? A sure image of your mother no doubt." Then Peleus wept, cuddling both of his grandchildren. Precious babes, this was all he had left of his sons. "I swear you will know no hardship or tragedies. Here you will be treasured."Alex rested against his grandfather's shoulder and for the first time, he felt safe.___________________________________________________________________

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Alex carried a tension around him even if his grandfather promised them safety. Cruel, to say but his grandfather would not live forever. Whispers carried by the wind said his brother was on a conquering high. Many of the surrounding cities had fallen to him and the Greeks. It chilled him to his core that soon that monster would be on their shores. He had to be ready because Kallias needed him.His darling brother, the only piece of his mother. "Ba," Alex turned to see his brother fussing in his nurse's arms. He was always so fussy when he had lessons.Ba as it turns out was his brother's way of calling him. "You're highness," she curtsied before continuing, " little highness would like to see you if you have the time." Of course, this was his brother.Alex took him cradling him. Examining found that every day he looked more and more like their mother. Everyone else, even father had said so. Mother, he thought, squeezing him tighter.Alex had made an oath to always care for him. No matter what.
____________________________
Years passed and slowly his anxiety left him. He heard nothing more of his demigod brother’s exploits. There were sounds of wars in the east but he paid no mind to it. As long as their kingdom was stable there was nothing to fear.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

334 BC

Their campaign had been another successful one; now, they traveled to where the Trojan War had supposedly taken place. To visit Achilles’ grave. And if some of the legends are true, Patroclus’ too.
 
Alexander had started his favorite tale on the way to the great hero’s burial set. The romance of Achilles and Patroclus was quite unhealthy how often his lover had read the Iliad and other sources. Wanting to find out as much as he could about Achilles and his lover.

Hephaestion could hardly contain his eye roll, heard this numerous times before, and each time it ended with.
 
“Patroclus loved Achilles so that their union bore not one but two sons.” Alex’s eyes were bright at the thought of a son. For him to bear him one. However, his lover always forgot how they had died. Hubris had been their downfall. How in the aftermath of their deaths, everything had gone to shit.
 
“And he died for it,” he cut in dryly. Sick of his constant badgering him for a son. 
 
“Achilles’ pride, foolishness, and grief left his children at the mercy of their cruel older brother, whom you are truly descended from.” he finished pointedly, dismounting from his horse. Alexander told one of his lieutenants to instruct the men to set up camp. 
 
“Yes, but we could be better than that. I have conquered nearly all the known world. And I will need a son to look after my empire. I would never forsake or abandon you or my children, please, my Patroclus. It would make me so happy,” Alex said, quickly catching up to him. Hephaestion gave him a soft smile, pretending to consider it. When Alex turned from him, it fell.
 
“You already have,” he muttered quietly, glimpsing the white monument that bore the name “ACHILLES.” Nothing of his love, who so kindly bore his children. He resisted the urge to snort. Of course, the legends had been wrong.
 
Hephaestion would never be so foolish as to trust his lover so wholeheartedly. Look where that had gotten Patroclus. Myths remembered his lover as a great warrior, a God among men, whereas he was reduced to nothing more than the warrior who bore Achilles two sons. How he truly saved the Greeks. Achilles had cast everything Patroclus gave him aside for power and glory. He was rewarded with it, at the price of his lover’s life, like his ancestor.
 
 Alexander’s eyes had already begun to wander for both ambition and others. He would not have his heartbroken by him. Nor would he entertain his insane notions of bearing his son. 
 
His body was built for the battlefield, not to pop out squealing babes. The very idea appalled him. To grow fat with Alex’s child while he flirted and played with others hurt him. Even now, as he wasn’t with a child, it hurt him how Alex paraded his lovers in front of him. Didn’t he care? Of course not. That and his marriage had further drawn them apart.
 
Alexander claimed to love him and called him his Patroclus. However, it seemed like, at times, Alex was more in love with the idea of being “Achilles and Patroclus” rather than being faithful to him. A son between them would further cement Alex’s role as “Achilles.” Gods, his thoughts were so hateful. 
 
One thing he could admire from Patroclus and Achilles’ tragic love story was how deeply and madly they loved one another. Their love for each other had been their most significant fault. Achilles had another child, but he married Patroclus and made him his consort. Doting on him and the children, he bore him endlessly. Or how he would have torn Troy brick from brick in his rage, barehanded. His rage and grief slaughtered both Hector and twelve Trojan princes to be burned in his pyre how he wished for death for months after his beloved wandering the battlefield in no armor. Dying with his name and a smile on his lips.
 
Patroclus loved Achilles purely with every part of his being. Followed him to Troy, knowing what waited there for them. Some accounts say he even was with a child when he did so. Bore his children. Got up weak from labor to go to battle dressed in his lover’s armor to defend his people and save his lover’s honor. And died with Hector’s spear through his stomach. He gave and gave until he had nothing left, and still, it wasn’t enough. They were never satisfied with what they were given. Always easily seduced by power or ambition. This was the case with such powerful men.
 
“Hephaestion, are you coming?” Alexander called to him. He fought to keep his face emotionless. His men called him cold for it, but it kept him in tack when his mind was racing like this. Did he even love him anymore? Roxanne and Bagosas had undoubtedly taken all of his attention and affection.
 
“Of course, Your Highness,” he told him, walking to catch up with him. Alex glanced back at him, and his features lit up by the sunlight. His golden mane curled around his face, his blue eyes like the sea. How tall and proud he stood in his stance, even covered in the dirt of travel and battle. Hephaestion was in awe of him for a moment. Was this how Patroclus felt for Achilles? To know how they would betray you later but love them anyway.
 
Gods, he loves him and at times hated himself for it. It hurt to love him, but Alex held him under his spell. How he whispered to him of his dreams with such conviction, he had been moved to tears.
 
“I always follow you, my Alexander. Even into the House of Death,” he vowed.
 
“And I could not be without you, my Hephaestion, for I love you more than any,” Alex returned, drawing him in for a deep kiss. That night their usually frenzied lovemaking had been gentler, slower.  
 
He wanted Alexander’s vision to come true, wanted him to go farther than any man has gone, to make himself a living God. Wanted to be at his side when it happened, something he couldn’t do birthing his children. Patroclus may have done it for Achilles, but there was no need for him. Alex had Roxanne to birth his heir.
 
“You know you never have to address me like that. I hate it when you do,” Alex told him, throwing him a handsome grin. Something near hope bloomed in his chest.

“Of course, Alex,” he teased, finally falling in stride with him. He nudged at him lightly, and he returned it. 
 
Wine had made them both more uninhibited than usual. They could barely stand on their feet, let alone keep their hands to themselves. Very publicly, he was nearly in Alex’s lap while he left kisses and marks up and down his neck. Hephaestion was trying not to wriggle and whine too loudly, even as the others were preoccupied with other things. 
 
Alexander had felt that they needed to worship his hero properly and had given orders for a small race of endurance. Alex was the first to strip. He joined him. Ptolemy, Cassander, Antigonus, and Seleucus then followed. They were impatient to see if they could beat him.

They raced. First, he won to their shock. In the last round, he was faced with Alexander, he lost. He has been a little bitter but got over it quickly when he saw how cheerful he was. Alex was like a young child, so innocent in his expressions.
 
 At the moment, there was nothing innocent or subtle in his expression.
 
“Come to bed,” Alex whispered into his neck. His heartbeat picked up. It had been weeks since he had been in Alex’s bed. 
 
A small war waged inside him. Should he give in and let Alex be forgiven for his transgressions just this once. Or retire to his lonely bed. The wine made his decision.
 
He moved off of him and beckoned for him to follow him. Together they wobbled back into his tent, tearing off clothing as they went. They collapsed in a drunken heap of giggles.
 
Before their mouths were on each other once again, Alex had him pinned beneath him and rutted ever so lightly between his thighs. It was so hot in here. He felt dizzy. He didn’t know if it was from the drink or the act.
 
The festivities of the impromptu games were winding down around them, and tomorrow they would be back on the road. Alexander had dreamed of conquering Asia, so he would go wherever he wished.
 
Tonight, they will be together. As Alex drifted against him, he prayed to any God that would listen, that his lover would not meet a fate as Achilles had.
 
“Good night, my Alexander. I pray you are successful in your campaign.”
 
And that his fate would not resemble the tragic fate of his ancestor.
 
Ontop his horse. He spared one last glance at the monument that bore his lover’s hero. The prideful and flawed Achilles.
 
A small figure in white watched him. He blinked a few times to clear his eyes. No, the figure was still there.
 
A youth with dark hair and skin waved at him. Hephaestion reluctantly waved back.
 
The faster they got away from this place, the sooner his mind would stop playing such tricks. This tomb of such grief and regret. 
 
“Hephaestion, who were you waving at it?” Alex asked, pulling his horses’ reins to come closer to him. 
 
“No one.” 
 
He thought he had found peace in Elysium.
 
“What did you see?”
 
“Nothing, Alex.” Alexander fell quiet again. It was a few more miles before he spoke again.
 
“Was it Achilles?” Alex’s eyes had that strange gleam that only came from discussions of his hero.
 
“I didn’t see anyone, Alex.” This conversation was slowly wearing on his nerves. The heat and phantoms too. 
 
“Are you sure?” 
 
Hephaestion started to say something before he had to lean over his horse. To spill his stomach’s meager contents.
 
Oh Gods, no.
 
Damn you, Patroclus. 
 
As if seeing the phantom had brought on his illness again. He prayed desperately it was not what he thought it was. Prayed it was only being hungover and nothing more.

Alexander would be over the moon if he were. Fucker.
 
No, the less he thought of it, the better.
 
“Just hungover,” he stated quickly before Alex could start his fussing and monolog about babes. He rode ahead, not wanting to hear that to the East.
 
No, just no.
 
They had land to conquer. An empire to build. There was no time for babies and child-rearing.
 
They had lived well. At last, his heart would rest in peace.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Instead of Patroclus getting killed Alexander is killed. Patroclus screams and wails for days, but when it stops. The trouble begins. The kind healer is gone and replaced with a merciless killer. In one day on the battlefield alone he had killed over hundred Trojans.

“ I want Hector’s head, Achilles. I want nothing else.”

Patroclus had immediately fallen ill when he heard the news of Alexander’s death. Then a few days later, he had nearly lost their second child in labor, but with rest, he and the child had recovered. Another boy he had been blessed with, but Patroclus, too grieved, had not named him. Briseis had. Kallias, she called him. Beauty is what it meant.

Kallias was a chubby babe with Patroclus’ chocolate curls, sweet brown eyes, and rosy cheeks. Patroclus did not see him often. Briseis was all too happy to care for the pretty babe. She still lusted over what was his, the child that should have been hers.

When he asked why that was.

“I’ll only poison him with my touch,” Patroclus said, strapping into his armor.

_______________________________________________________________

Going to battle was one of the few things that truly made him more lively that and when they fucked.  
 
Patroclus was now more prone to letting him manhandling him and biting him.  Achilles did it to see if some light would come back into those eyes.  Nothing. His heart mourned for that light. The darker part of him rejoiced at his lover’s bloodlust in battle.

Patroclus came away from battle just as blood-soaked if not more than he, and when they returned he wasted no time in straddling him and sinking down on him. Blood and sweat coated them both, but they paid no mind to it too lost in lust. Normally he would have loved this, but those brown eyes he loved so much were often clouded in so much sadness and hatred he could not bear to look at them.

They were dark and hazed with a heavy lust at the moment, as he recklessly rode his cock.

Immediately upon their finishing, Patroclus slid off of him to mix his anti-contraceptive herbs. He had decided that after Kallias, he did not wish to bear another child. 
 
Achilles was fine with that, after all Kallias’ birth had caused him to fall ill with an intense fever. He had already lost one of his sons he could not bear, if Patroclus died trying to bear him another child.

“Prince Achilles, are you dressed? King Agamemnon had summoned us to a meeting”, Automedon called from outside his tent.

Patroclus had finished his drink, and his dark eyes teased him with promises of another round.

“ Give me a moment. I’ll meet you at the main camp.” the footsteps fade away. They wait.

Patroclus happily climbs back into his lap.

“ We should probably go soon. After all, they are waiting for you my

Aristo Achaion

.” he purred in his ear. His blood burned hot at the way his title sounded from those lush lips. So much had changed in the past year.

Patroclus’ darkness had made him so bold. They had practically fucked in every place in the camp, the woods, on the riverbanks, the beach, nearly in front of the men after a battle.

He drew the line in front of others because of his jealousy, no one else would see Patroclus like this but him. Maybe Patroclus had always had this darkness inside him, but he hated and loved it. He hated it because it stripped his love of what he made him fall for him in the first place, his compassion, and smile. 
 
Loved it because he felt he could be his more authentic self. He did not have to hide his bloodlust or love of fighting. Patroclus now cared for little but fucking and fighting. He only saw Kallias feed him from his breast, and then he was back in his bed, spreading his legs. Gods, he had birthed two children, but he was still as tight as a vice.

“Fuck, Achilles,” he panted trying to trap him even tighter.

“Gods, Patroclus, you're going to kill me.” he groaned.

“Good,” he snickered.

“Have you seen Kallias today?” he asked. Patroclus stopped his clawing at him to look up at him, almost startled. He saw the boy he had fallen in love with instead of the siren in his bed for a moment.

“ Yes, why do you ask?” he asked breathlessly.

“I was curious.” he panted, playing with his chest

“Achilles~ don’t,” Patroclus moaned, trying to squirm away from his tongue.

“I can tell you didn’t, because your chest is full. Don’t leave him with Briseis so often,” he growled.

“I can do as I please. You will not order me as you please.” Patroclus said, using his thighs to flip them. So he was on top.

“I can if you are neglecting him. You do little besides fighting and climbing into my bed. I know you grieve for Alexander, but Kallis is young, and he needs you still. Not only for milk, but he needs your affection. You have barely held him or played with him since his birth.” he whispered, pulling out of him.

“ How can I, Achilles? Every child I have ever loved or held has died. Our first son died before he even came out of my womb, Our second was slaughtered by HECTOR. I’m cursed, Gods only know what will happen if I hold this child.” he cried in despair

“Had I not been pregnant with Kallias, I could have gone in Alexander’s place. You could have gone had your pride not blinded you,” he screamed at him

“ I blame you for everything.”

“I wish I would have gone if it would have saved you from your grief,” he whispered

Patroclus spat at him, “ It is too late for your apology. It is much too late.” He pulled on his tunic and left with his thighs still leaking.

Achilles flopped back on the bed, the scent of blood and sex so heavy in the air. His hands pressed against his eyes. He would have taken it all back if he could. His pride, everything to have his son alive, and Patroclus’ love again.

______________________________________________

His siren was back at sunset in his bed but with Kallias at his breast. Achilles was stunned. He could count on one hand how many times he had seen Patroclus hold Kallias. He watched them unnoticed through the opening of the doorway. Kallias wiggled and cooed for his attention. Patroclus kissed his little forehead and loosened one side of his tunic. Kallias greedily latched onto the offered nipple. He leaned back against the stack of pillows.

“Gods, I’m so sorry little one I never meant to neglect you. I was so sad, and I still am. I love you so much, but I could not take it if I lost you too.” he spoke softly to the infant, contently suckling at his chest.

“I do not know what has happened to me lately, I have no shame or fear. I have felt nothing but grief and rage. I only want Hector to play for what he has done to your brother. But in my grief, I have done nothing but lash out and ignore my problems. I even hurt you and your father. I never meant to Kallias. I am sorry. Papa promises to try harder to see you more often and not just at meal times.” he continued softly playing with a dark curl. Kallias detached from his nipple as if he understood him and cooed at him. Patroclus undid the other side of his tunic and carefully settled him next to his other nipple, the babe greedily sucked on it.

His heart hurt. This scene reminded him of when Alexander was first born. He did little but suck at Patroclus’ chest. His love never denied him even if he was tired or his chest was sore. He would then carefully rock and pat him until he burped and when he was sure settled him on his chest for him to sleep. Alexander lured by his heartbeat would sleep soundly through the night.
 
 Gods, what had he done. He had destroyed his love, had turned him into this dark thing of bloodlust and hatred.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Aymtor found his prince collapsed against the railing, skin burning with fever and blood soaking his tunic.

Jewel eyes met his gaze tiredly, "I'm not dying," he said, taking another slow breath, "not yet anyway

Then what was all this blood? He only knew that those with the plague bled like that. His prince pushed off his concern. Shaking his hands off and getting into a low crouch slowly stands. Pretending to wipe away the blood from his hand, cast his gaze to the sea. Viciously hoped it was sunken to the bottom.
 
“I cut my hand, I’m alright.” That was a lie, there was nothing to cut his hand on. While his savior Aymtor did not have to know everything. Funny how the Gods sought to mock him even now. Cursed, his entire bloodline was cursed. Kallias too was damned. 
 
Damned or not they were going to survive. This was minor, if Mother had passed his trial then he would too. For now, he needed his fever to go down, and his brother’s breathing to sound more stable.

Aymtor spied something in the distance, they had made it to Aulis. When the orders came, their ships would be back in Athens.

____________________________________________

“How are you feeling now?” he asked as soon as their tent was ready. His prince was pale even in the firelight.

“I think the fresh air helps,” he commented brushing at his brother’s cheek. Such a charming infant he was, it was no wonder. Both he and the prince were blessed with Prince Consort Patroclus’ beauty.

Blood had been wiped away and he was dressed in a tunic of dark blue. This time if there was blood there would be no signs of it. Kallias’ breathing was still wheezy and raspy, but hopeful it would calm in the next few days.

“How long until we reach Pthtia?” Aymtor hummed at his question.

“If the weather is good, we will be there in six weeks.”

Six weeks? Could Kallias take more weeks of being at sea? Supplies were limited and he was often below deck with other people. And rats, the worst yet were the rats. Alex still remembers how their small flea-ridden bodies had caused chaos in the camps. They ate everything and were generally an omen of ill health. For everywhere they were, sickness was.

Alex glanced at the clouds, which hung over them gray and bloated. Resigned himself to more storms.

“If the weather is bad?” he questioned.

Aymtor sighed, “Twelve if we have a few bad storms, Sixteen if there is no wind.”

“Gods,” he cursed.

“Don’t worry, if we are faithful, Posideon will let us pass.”

That’s what worried him, he was not known to be the most benevolent. Making earthquakes and flooding cities because he could. Perhaps sea entities were more prone to bouts of rage, his father had spared no one in his grief. Briefly, he closed his eyes, at the thought. His own was too fresh, thinking of them made his chest constrict.

“Surely he will.” Already his stomach rebelled at the thought of rough waves.

_____________________
 
"LAND AHEAD !" a voice bellowed from above. Alex tiredly raised his head.

Land finally, after weeks spent on this blasted ship. Kallias could use the fresh air.

"An island, Kallias," he said to the infant, "that means sunshine and freshwater."

That got him a curious gurgle.

"Yes, that's right. Home."

And land meant there would be herbs. There was a chance for this sickness to leave them.

Alex wobbled his way to the deck, and there it was…. White sand and grassy inland. Turquoise water, this was it. Just as mother described.

They were saved.

"Kallias," he murmured to his brother, "everything is going to be okay now."

"I promise, everything is alright. We're home."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

One moment, his lover was riding him with abandon, the next...Blergh.Warm liquid splashed down both his neck and chest. Achilles even felt some in his hair. Patroclus was scrambling off him, puking into the grass a good distance away. Okay, that was a little gross, but his lover needed his attention.Why did this feel so familiar? Patroclus shakily wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. Such misery appeared in his face, eyes teary and cheeks pale.“I'm so sorry—” he started to say more, but he shook his head. Patroclus turned from him once more. He knelt next to him to feel his forehead. He sent a quick prayer to Apollo that it wasn't the sickness that was going around camp. There was no fever, but he was warm. It could be just overheating.“ I'm fine, but are you?” he brushed his curls back from his face and kissed his forehead.His love only sighed, leaning against the bark of a tree, “ The heat made me a little ill, sorry. I didn't mean to..” instead of finishing his gesture towards him.Achilles lifted a coated strand in amusement, “ I can wash it off. Besides, it has grown too long. I should cut it.”“Don’t,” Patroclus choked out, “cut it,” before turning his head once more. When he stopped, Achilles wanted nothing more than to hold him, but the wrinkling of his nose told him otherwise.Achilles nearly snorted; his love had so kindly puked on him. He flashed him a grin before going to wash it off. Patroclus sent him a weaker one, reclining against the tree.Achilles returned, finding him out cold, with certainty that something was wrong. His lover rarely rested like this unless he was ill or when he was with a child.Oh.This had happened before, when he hadn't known of his love's status. When they were younger and fooling around his lover had pulled away from him, citing the heat. The vomiting and sudden fatigue all made sense.Patroclus was expecting another child.“You’re with a child,” he whispered quietly, tucking that errant curl behind his ear. Patroclus didn’t respond to his query. Achilles sighed and settled him against his chest. A blissful sigh fell from his lips, but he didn't wake.Instead of Apollo, he directed his plea to Hera. He prayed that his time would be easier, his pain would be minimal, and he would not bleed so much._________________________________________________________Achilles wondered when Patroclus would discover he was expecting. Surely, he would have noticed by now. Maybe he had been wrong, but when he least expected it.“I didn’t bleed this month and what I thought was a sickness, but it turns out,” Patroclus paused shyly, pushing his unruly curls behind his ear, "I'm with a child."A moment of silence passed between them, and he realized Patroclus' eyes began to glitter with unshed tears."Aren't you excited about the news?" He asked, voice wobbling.Achilles froze, but not enough that it was obvious. For the first time, he knew about his pregnancy in its early stage, but Gods, what could he say? No, because it endangered his health, and he wasn't thrilled at the prospect of possibly losing him. However, saying such a thing would break his heart, especially with all that he had suffered.Patroclus was his heart, and he would never seek to make him unhappy, so he lied."Gods, you have made me so happy, my love."Instantly, Patroclus's eyes were free from unshed tears, and Achilles couldn’t help but pick him up and spin him.“Gods, you’re pregnant. I-”Patroclus’ joy was enough for both of them. “ I wasn’t sure. After all, it had been years since I had a child, but I’m happy,” he laughed. Part of him wished that he could feel more joy instead of dread.“Me too.”By the Gods, what had he done?

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Bodies moved in a sensual trance, rocking in tandem, trying to get as much friction as possible.  Achilles let his teeth nip and tease at Patroclus’ pulse. The next, he pulled back or tried to. Achilles continued to chase his lips, but he couldn't breathe. His grip was too tight."Ow." he murmured pulling back for good this time.Achilles’ nose wrinkled up in disgust, and just as he was about to ask, what was the matter? Patroclus watched as the light bent around him.“You're lucky you’re with his child, or else I would have had you,” Apollo hissed as he pulled back.
 
His visage of Achilles fading with it and in its place a light so bright it hurt his eyes. It was instinct that he whipped out his blade and it landed true. The blade shimmed golden in the light. So it was true, Gods bleed gold.  
“I would have fought you, I know my Achilles,” he could have cared less if he had offended Apollo. He would never accept his defilement by a God.“You’re quite beautiful, yet at the same time plain,” that was near an insult. Patroclus knew he was no great beauty, but that didn’t matter, for Achilles loved him just the same. “I’m aware of my plainness, but I thank you for the kind words.”
“No, you misunderstand me. Yours is an understated beauty, a loveliness that is timeless.”“You remind me of him,” Apollo breathed out. Patroclus was quiet, he didn’t want to be compared to one of his lovers who met a terrible fate. That is all loving and being loved by a God brought you. He shook his head, “I’m sure he was much more lovely than I.” 
Apollo grasped his chin, upward, golden eyes blazing, and suddenly he took Achilles’ form again, Patroclus turned his head disgusted. 
“I can keep his shape if that is what you desire, I do not mind it,”
He held the blade at his throat once more.
“You would cut your beloved,” Apollo asked, using his lover’s voice. 
“You aren’t him, and I’m with his child as you say. Doesn’t that disgust you?” he was unnerved at how quickly Apollo had used Achilles’ form once more. He wanted to run, but Apollo would chase him as he had Daphne. Achilles and he had once played similar games and with a child in his belly, he didn’t want to take any chances. 
“Achilles,” he called desperately in his mind. It had worked once before when he had wished for his comfort in labour. He didn’t care how it happened, but it had. 
“Achilles, please,” he prayed again. 
“You would cut a God, risking my anger to preserve your innocence,” Apollo hissed.
“I have no innocence. I have been spoiled and ruined. Achilles has taken my purity,” he started.
“I have borne his child and carry another.” Apollo chuckled, his stolen green eyes twinkling with mirth. The sight made him sick; he sought to copy that cat like a gleam. 
“Then bare mine,” he teased, "a true demi-god son," he pressed closer to the blade. More gold dripped down the blade, and suddenly, Apollo was pulled back from him.
Achilles, in all his blood-soaked glory, his heart leaped into his throat. Hera, he was relieved see him, but soon it turned to worry. What chance did his lover have against a full-blooded God?
“Touch him like that again, and I’ll split you from your throat to your gut,” he growled.
“Little demigod, what threats could you make against me?” Apollo still wore Achilles’ shape, just not as blood-soaked as his lover.
“How do you know his babe is even yours?” Patroclus’s blood ran cold, and there was no way. He knew Achilles. Or at least he thought he knew. But countless stories of Gods taking lover’s forms held some proof. Nausea built up in his throat.He threw up right there. Apollo laughed as he disappeared. ________________________________________Achilles pulled him into his arms, and he flinched from his touch. “Don’t touch me, please,” he begged, pushing him away, eyes swimming with tears. “It isn’t true. I know it isn’t true. Patroclus, don’t fret,” Achilles held his arms open once more.
Patroclus turned from him as fast as his feet could carry him. Shame ran hot in his blood. How could he have betrayed him? Even unknowingly, he should have known.Achilles stomped his foot before going after him. Patroclus should have known; by now, he would always catch up with him.Something grabbed his wrist. He was too fearful to see if Achilles or Apollo had it. He fought, trying to get out of his grip. “Let me go, please just let me go,” he half sobbed.“Patroclus, it’s me, I promise. Only me,” Achilles didn’t want him to run again. It wasn’t good for his health. Patroclus spun and the coolness of the dagger rested at his neck.The blade coated in drying gold.“I don’t know that,” he pushed the blade further against him. Achilles let him.He was terrified, how dare he. God or not, he was going to kill him.The blade ran red with crimson, and the dagger removed itself.“I’m sorry,” he apologized before he tried to take off again.“Patroclus, he speaks lies. I know what he says isn’t true. I have been with you since the 
beginning. You are having my child. Our child.” Achilles released his wrists to lock his hands behind his back. Patroclus turned his face away from him.“How Do You Know, Achilles? He Is A God. When I Thought It Was You, He Could Have Had His Way With Me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. Hera help him. Tears came again.“I know because I have been with you nearly nightly. You’re carrying my babe. So don’t cry. ”“Achilles-,”“Don’t worry yourself over it. This is our child,” he soothed.“I have-.”“You have done nothing wrong, my light. My devotion. He has a vendetta against me and said such things to upset you. This is our child.”