I'm continuing to share the Heart of Troy fic. Achilles and Patroclus are definitely showing their dark side. (I can't vouch for the accuracy of the sacrifices and worship, I'm not a historian.)
The Trojan War, Seventh Year
Bronze-clad Achaeans gathered with all the leaders of the tribes under the command of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, king of kings, and helm-bright Trojans with their Lycian and Thracian allies under the leadership of Hector, son of Priam, first defender of Troy. Their gaze was heavier than the clouds of Zeus the Thunderer in the hour of mourning for fallen brothers.
The spear-bearing Danaans brought gifts with them, every king among them, that they might ransom the bodies of their kinsmen from the Trojan army and bury them with honor. Nor did the Trojans remain aside, bringing with them the gifts of wealthy Troy, wishing to reclaim their fallen warriors. In return the Trojans received bowls, armor, weapons, gold, and tripods. And they themselves gave swift horses, purple cloth with cunning patterns, and precious jewels.
Salt sea air washed over them, sent forth by the winds of Boreas, Zephyrus, and Notus. Thus, having exchanged gifts, Trojans and Danaans received the bodies of their fallen warriors. None remained deprived.
“Let us seal our agreement before Zeus, guardian of oaths, and the other gods!” Hector proclaimed for all to hear.
Agamemnon, son of Atreus, willingly raised the cup of wine and, as was proper, first made offering to the gods, swearing an oath and pouring for them, then drank from the cup. Hector also sealed the oath before the gods, pouring wine from the cup and then drinking from it. And beside him stood the beloved sons of Priam, bearing witness to the agreement.
At that hour, while mighty Hector and radiant lord Agamemnon performed libations before the gods, noble Patroclus, son of Menoetius, found Troilus among Hector’s other brothers with his gaze. And at once he said to the son of Peleus:
“Look, among many even Troilus has honored us with his presence!”
Swift-footed Achilles at that moment turned his gaze upon the young son of Priam as a hawk sights its prey. There was not even a shadow of the former fire in Troilus’ eyes, the fire that had burned within him on the evening of their first meeting. The boy had given himself to universal mourning. Grief came upon both Achilles and Patroclus, that such sorrow darkened that beautiful face. And the boy, as though sensing that the two Achaeans had turned their gaze upon him, met their eyes. For some moment he looked back at them. But then, a moment later, he hastened to turn his gaze away, troubling the spirits of Achilles and Patroclus. The son of Menoetius thought that fear had seized him, and that he was full of hesitation.
Both Trojans and Achaeans cut timber and gave the bodies of the fallen warriors to the fire. They laid upon the altars young bulls that had never ploughed the fields. And part they placed upon spits. They began to share food with one another as a sign of reconciliation. Only the son of Peleus did not touch the food, still piercing with the eyes of a hawk the Trojan youth who in body and speech turned toward his brothers, Deiphobus, Paris, and Helenus. And anger awoke in his heart that the boy would not look back at him.
“What troubles you, Achilles? Do you not wish to share the feast with our companions and honor the Trojans?” Patroclus asked.
“No matter how I wish to take food into my mouth, it will not go down, Patroclus. Even though hunger tears at me.”
Meanwhile, Agamemnon, son of Atreus, also caught sight of the young son of Priam and addressed him:
“Who is this youth, fair of face? Never before have I seen him among the sons of Priam.”
“Troilus is my name!” the son of Priam exclaimed.
“Troilus... Ah, is this not the youth of whom glory resounds, that he is fairer than all the sons of Troy? That not Priam, but the great Far-Shooter himself is his father?”
“You are most generous with praise, lord of men Agamemnon!” Troilus answered loudly. “Much have I heard of you, king of kings. Even the Trojans acknowledge your strength among men. I too count it an honor to speak with you!”
“You speak well, son of Priam! And how much boldness I hear in your words. Were you older in years, you would have struck down many mighty Danaans among us.”
At this Troilus smiled, yet the smile at once gave way to pride as Diomedes, son of Tydeus, cast his gaze upon him, and wise old Nestor with his young son Antilochus, and clever-minded Odysseus, son of Laertes, and great Ajax Telamonian with his brother Teucer, and Menelaus, beloved of Ares.
“My hour shall come — and I shall equal mighty Hector in strength. On that day you shall see me among the brave warriors, winning honor and glory for my father’s house and for all of Troy.”
Achilles sensed that a young lion stood before them, no otherwise. And such daring words did he speak that even the leaders of the Danaans forgot their grief for a fleeting moment, though they should not have.
“And will you equal me also, young son of Priam?” Achilles spoke, drawing the boy’s bold gaze toward himself. “Perhaps you shall even set me upon a sharpened spear?” the son of Peleus asked with cunningly narrowed eyes, wishing to humble the pride of youth.
The son of Priam faltered, his boldness shaken, yet he did not look away, only raised his chin higher, taking on a proud appearance.
“Great is your glory, Achilles, son of Peleus, but my glory shall surpass yours!”
Silence fell among the people. Until godlike Achilles laughed aloud, and with him the Myrmidons, among them Automedon and Patroclus. And with them laughed the other Achaean leaders. Yet it was no cruel mockery. The Achaeans laughed kindly, with indulgence.
“Sharp is your tongue, but do not grow arrogant!” Achilles said. “And boast not of your deeds before their hour! I see that your heart is full of courage. But beware lest your courage abandon you on the day you enter the battlefield. Preserve it until that hour!”
Troilus answered nothing. And the Achaeans and Trojans parted in peace, the Achaeans to their camp, and the Trojans to the walls of the city, to wives and children.But no peace came to the son of Peleus within his tent. Nor did sleep come upon him. Patroclus, lying beside him, pressed himself against his back and spoke:
“Why do you not sleep, Achilles, dear to my heart? For whom does your heart long? Has the young son of Priam seized your thoughts?”
“You know all these things, Patroclus. Nothing can be hidden from you,” Achilles answered him, drawing the hand of the son of Menoetius closer against his hairy chest.
“You did not take your eyes off him, Achilles. I saw it. And all your desires are known to me even before you speak a single word of them.”
Achilles fell silent, agreeing with all of it. Then Patroclus brought his lips close to the ear of the son of Peleus and whispered sweetly:
“Listen to me, son of Peleus Aeacides and of Thetis, goddess of the sea. This is what I shall say to you. Of all the valiant Achaeans, you are most worthy of the treasures and riches of Troy, for you are the best of the Achaeans. If you desire to take young Troilus for yourself — then let it be so. There are ways to bend his will toward you. On the day he leaves the walls of Troy, send envoys to him with gifts. Or go yourself and give white doves, such as delight the hearts of youths. I have heard that the Trojans are skilled horsemen. Give Troilus beautiful horses. Seeing your kindness, perhaps he shall willingly agree to enter your tent, to the envy of all the Achaeans.”
“You speak wisely, philtatos. Not without reason did my father command me to listen to you. But what if the heart of the son of Priam does not soften, and he does not agree to come with me willingly?”
“And if Troilus remains unreachable — then use force and claim him as a trophy of war. Why should you grieve? The walls of wealthy Ilios shall fall — all desired treasures shall belong to you, the fairest Trojan women you desire, and beautiful Troilus as well, though he weep for the days of freedom, for his father, for his mother, for his brothers and sisters. Yet still he shall not escape his fate.”
This thought pleased glorious Achilles, and within his mind he resolved that so it would be.
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