I don't if this is needed but I'll put it here just in case
TW: mentions of blood, talk of death but nothing too graphic, the song of achilles spoilers. This is honestly just word vomit. If there's anything else, please let me know
I think one of the things that break me the more i think about it is the fact that Pat had 18 years to prepare himself mentally for Achilles eventual demise. While Achilles didn't have that luxury.
He lets Patroclus go in his stead due to his own hubris, his pride too big to let him bend down and accept Agamemnon's orders. He lets the man he holds the dearest to his heart face his own battle. Appease the clamours of the dying greeks.
The last he saw of Patroclus' face was when his helmet was covering most of his features. He made Pat swear he would be out of harms way. Achilles kissed him goodbye and waited by their tent for Patroclus to come back to him. Unharmed. Well. Alive.
But he didn't. For the first time, Patroclus did not keep his promise. He did not come back to Achilles by his own two feet. He was carried to Achilles by Menelaus. Every king, prince, common could only watch as realisation finally hits Achilles.
And it hits like a brick. Achilles saw his friend, his companion, his lover, his soulmate, lifeless. Blood coming from his abdomen, painting the ground red. Just imagine what went through his head at that moment.
It was his fault, he would repeat in his head.
Patroclus was never ment to wear his armour, to be at the front of the war,even more so alone, to be put in harms way. And yet he was. Dead.
What was he to do except yell, scream so violently that, even in the deepest parts of the ocean, he could be heard?
What was expected of him if not to cradle his corpse in his arms? To bring him into his tent? Maybe if he called his name enough time he would wake up. Maybe his warmth would return.
What was he supposed to do if not grief for his other half that was taken from him too soon? Why should he eat or drink if he did not have his company?
What was he expected to do, lying next to his lifeless body, missing his gentle eyes on him, his embrace, his scent consuming every corner of his being, while kissing his hand?
Most of all, what did they want from him when he saw him in his dreams? Calling for him. Saying his name as if he was still there. Hope would fill every inch of his body. He was here. He could hear him, see him, touch h--
And just like that, as he tried to reach him, he was gone. When he opened his eyes and looked at the boy next to him, asking so gently if he was really there, receiving no response back, he would cry. Once again.
He would cry. For him. His soulmate. His Patroclus.
And so, with grief heavy on his back, Achilles famous rage cames through.
Killing 10.000 trojans was easy for him.
So was fighting a river that was getting in the way of Patroclus' killer, Hector.
After all, nothing would survive his blade if they tried to prevent him from killing Troy's prince.
And parading the body of the man who killed the other half of his soul around the walls of Troy was almost relieving to him. He did it. He killed Hector.
And soon he would be able to join Patroclus in the underworld.
But i believe that when Paris shot that arrow at Achilles, with the guidance of Apollo, he did not fret, he did not felt sadness. He felt relief.
Since Patroclus would be within reach. He would be able to finally embrace him.
He just had to wait a little bit longer.
And i hate to think his disappointment when he got to Elysium, screaming his lungs out for Patroclus' name until his voice gave out, and he was no where to be found.
Maybe he was hiding? No. Patroclus wouldn't prank him like that, not now.
So i imagine that, after searching every corner of Elysium, Achilles sat down, singing. Only the melodies he knew Patroclus liked the most. Maybe that way, when gets to Elysium, he would know where Achilles was.
I imagine that after some time (maybe days, months, years) he heard the familiar light footsteps he grew up listening to. He would turn around and.
Ah. There he is. Just as he remembered him to be. Beautiful. His philtatos. Most beloved.
And "In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hand meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun."
But then again. That's just my humble opinion.
vaporwave
gracieabrams
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
