Work Text:
It was a sad day. The sky itself seemed to be weeping when the little droplets of rain fell relentlessly as they had been for hours. It seemed like nothing could put an end to it. However, the Aristos Achaion felt nothing but rage. The sea had washed away his sadness along with the sand on the Trojan beach. Or maybe his sorrow had become the fuel that lit up his anger. It burned as bright as Apollo and as hot the fires of Hades. His grief had made him cruel. But what had Hector ever done to him? Perhaps he had done nothing or perhaps had taken away the very reason for his existence. There was a moment when reality had not quite settled in, then came the moment when he keened like a widow. Now was the moment when he was out for blood like one of Artemis's hounds. There was no goodness in him anymore. The goodness that had once existed was now in his arms...dead.