Chapter Text
“All hands hoy!” Achilles has to shout just to be heard over the roaring winds, his coat soaked through in the storm, “Ye better batten down the hatches!”
Of course the Myrmidons’ crew had, they were the best sailors Achilles could have asked for.
“Avast, captain!! It looks like the Dread Lord Hades!” Patroclus jumped up to Achilles’ side, holding his spyglass, “He’s a mad man! It’s not even dry enough for gunpowder in these conditions.”
“We’d best try to outrun him!” Achilles’ golden hair was wild in his face, “We’ll show them that the Myrmidon is the fastest brigantine yet! Surely faster than the crusty Chthonic!”
They couldn’t raise a sail, the winds were too strong for that, but one word from Achilles was all it took for the Myrmidon to set to rowing.
Patroclus pulled out his blue kerchief from a coat pocket, “Hold still!”
Achilles froze immediately, letting Patroclus tie it over his hair, “There, can’t have you blinded by your own hair.”
Achilles shot him a ferocious grin that he couldn’t help but laugh at, “Even with the Dread Lord at our backs and heading into a storm, you look after me!”
“What else is a first mate for?”
Their men were fast, strong, and death at the hands of the scourge of the seven seas was motivation enough. They were slowly pulling ahead.
Patroclus was at the bow, Achilles’ silver trimmed tricorn hat on his head to keep the rain off so he could see better through his spyglass. He spotted something chilling, “Captain, they’re planning on boarding us!”
“Are you sure??” As if Achilles had to question Patroulus’ keen eye.
“They’re all armed to the teeth! And the Dread Lord just passed off the wheel to someone else!”
Achilles let out a fine set of swears, “Everyone prepare to be boarded! We’ll show them not to mess with the Myrmidon!!”
Not a moment after the order went out they heard the sickening sound of metal crushing into wood as grappling hooks and ropes were thrown into the deck and over the railing.
“Blimey, they’re trying to pull us in!” Achilles shouted.
The Chthonic was a brig, bigger than the Myrmidon, but not by much. It would take many men to pull it off of its course.
“Patroclus, take the wheel!” Achilles was already dashing off, drawing his sword as Patroclus did just that, steering away from the Chthonic as much as he could to avoid getting rammed.
Achilles wielded his broadsword with all of the power and speed he was famed for, hacking through a rope as thick as a man’s wrist as if it were cheesecloth.
Men were starting to board, jumping down on deck. The Dread Lord obviously had some sort of uniform, each one dressed in dark blacks, accented in golds, blues, reds.
What a bunch of pretentious pirates, who needs a uniform when you’re plundering the seas? Patroclus and he matched, their coats nearly indistinguishable, but that had been a holdover from their navy days.
That particular train of thought was derailed as he ducked to avoid a swinging pirate, set on taking his head clear off.
A figure dropped to the deck in front of him and Achilles recognized him immediately.
Thanatos, often simply called Death Incarnate, the Dread Lord’s first mate. He wielded a scythe, something more fit to a farm than the high seas, but he had made a name for himself for killing every navy man, pirate, or privateer he got his hook on.
He had a long black coat with golden buttons and a hood pulled up against the rain, a golden scarf tucked into his gray vest. There's a human skull on a golden yellow sash around his waist. Achilles briefly wonders who the poor bastard was.
“Death approaches,” he said simply, a razor sharp hook for a right hand, his scythe in his left. The wind had pushed his hood off, revealing shocking white hair and golden eyes that practically glow, “Prepare to meet your end.”
Well. Time to put Achilles’ reputation for being unkillable to the test.
He strikes first, but Thanatos is fast, swinging his scythe around to catch his spear.
Achilles lets his spear slide, lest it get ripped from his grip, spinning out of the way of the blade coming towards his face.
Death Incarnate is fast, and fighting with a scythe is new territory. Achilles’ eyes dart all around as he’s forced on the defensive, only barely able to keep his ground.
He nearly slipped on the rain slicked deck, and Thanatos manages to nick him on the bicep. Achilles hissed, but did not falter. It is a very small wound, but the red stands out against pale skin.
“There’s a rumor that your skin is unbreakable,” Thanatos said in a voice devoid of any feeling, “It’s refreshing to see that that isn’t the case,” he tilts his head just a bit to the cut on his arm.
“No one who’s harmed me has lived to tell another soul,” Achilles spat.
Patroclus felt his heart drop like a stone when he saw Death Incarnate drop in front of his Achilles, but he told himself harshly No, Achilles will survive this. He always does.
He took a length of rope and lashed it to the spokes of the wheel, and tied that to the banister to keep the ship turned away.
They were already trading blows before Patroclus was even done, drawing his own cutlass and vaulting over to his beloved.
He had barely taken a step forward before the deck shook behind him.
“This fight is not for you, Captain,” a deep voice said, freezing Patroclus in place.
He was not captain?
Blood and darkness, he was wearing Achilles’ hat!
He whirled, faced with the Dread Lord Hades himself.
The rumors about him seemed to be true, unfortunately.
Hades was a huge man, his very existence blotting out everything else. His beard was long and his fingers full of rings, he was wearing a coat the color of blood and a navy hat with red feathers stuck in it. He was every bit the imposing figure every pirate said he was.
“It’s the Myrmidon’s time to fall,” Hades boomed, drawing a bident out from under his cloak.
Patroclus knew in his heart of hearts he was no match for Hades. But he’d be damned twice over if he didn’t try.
“Do you expect me to roll over like a kicked dog?” Patroclus taunted as they traded blows.
“I expect you to die,” Hades was barely even exerting himself, Patroclus realized with a sinking feeling.
“Pat! Duck!”
Patroclus didn’t even think about it, he simply did as Achilles asked.
A fishing spear came right for Hades, giving Patroclus just enough time to retreat next to him.
Achilles had a gash on his arm and his deep green coat had a slice in it, but otherwise he didn’t look worse for wear. Patroclus couldn’t help but feel relieved.
“What happened to Thanatos??”
“His self preservation kicked in and he disappeared,” Achilles didn’t sound very pleased by that.
They didn’t have time to converse past that, with Hades coming for them both.
He must have had the power of ten men in his swings for how he tore up the deck of the ship with his strikes.
Achilles was fast on his feet, steering clear of Hades’ swings and returning with the same wild energy.
Patroclus fought close to the Dread Lord, using precision to weave in between the both of them.
“You’re an admirable fighting force,” Hades conceded after Achilles landed a hit right across his face and Patroclus nearly skewered him, “But not as powerful as the Chthonic.”
Achilles let out a savage cry as Thanatos jumped up from the side of the ship and throttled him from behind, Achilles only narrowly avoiding getting his throat ripped out by his hook.
Hades was on Patroclus in an instant, using his surprise to catch his blade and fling it to the side, grabbing him with one huge hand and dragging him to the side of the ship.
Hades had him by the collar, and Patroclus was held over the open ocean, his toes the only thing still in contact with the ship.
The ship was continuing to strain against the grapples, and he felt the banister snap under his foot, now held directly over open water.
“Send Davy Jones my regards,” The Dread Lord said before letting go.
“PATROCLUS!!” Achilles screamed, anguish ripping through him. In a blind rage he ripped free of Thanatos and slashed at Hades with a fury to rival the storm itself before throwing himself forward to try and follow his love.
The last thing Patroclus saw was Achilles, reaching out for him but already far, far too late.
Achilles, my love, I’ll find you Patroclus thought before the world went dark.