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"I'll come and steal you away."
-
The two had been the closest of friends for what felt like forever. Ever since they were children, they stuck by each other's sides. It was a happy and simple life but Achilles desired more. He wanted the innocent, smiling Patroclus to be his forever. And he would do anything he could to bring that dream to fruition.
He was full of a strange envy. The two were close, and because of that, also so far away at the same time. Suitors came often to ask for Patroclus's hand in marriage. But Achilles never could; surely, it would taint and ruin the lifelong friendship. But he just couldn't let his dearest be taken away from him by some other man!
Achilles was skilled on the battlefield - a natural fighter a tactician. He decided to put those talents to good use; he would destroy anything and everything in his path. No one would ever again get in the way of his goal.
One day, a very unexpected guest arrived at their home - one of the princes of Troy, Paris. Almost immediately, he confessed his love and adoration for Patroclus, stunned by his beauty. Patroclus only smiled radiantly, taken aback. Such a powerful man yearned for his heart! How could he possibly refuse him? He accepted and the two began planning their union.
The blonde man's hopes were crushed.
-
About a month later, a party was held to celebrate the two coming together. Oh, it was magnificent indeed! All the Achaeans and Trojans alike rejoiced at the promise of these two wedding. Achilles was the only one left distrustful and full of spite; he planned the days up to now plotting and scheming Paris's destruction. No man would ever steal his Patroclus, least of all that hateful prince!
As the two beloveds stepped away from the fray and out into the gardens, Achilles crept behind carefully. Unnoticed, he tipped the clear, odorless contents of a tiny vial into Paris's cup. Into the darkness he skulked away, triumphant.
There was a scream. Patroclus kneeled on the ground, holding his shaking and twitching fiancee in his arms, close to his heart.
And with that, Paris was dead before anyone inside could rush out to help. The cursed drug cantarella became the tool of Achilles' rage and his own destruction.
-
Some time had passed before another man found Patroclus and directed his affections towards him. He, grieving and alone, agreed right away. Anything to ease his poor heart. The smile had begun to return to his face but, before long, the new man fell in the same way as the esteemed Paris.
Twice more this occurred before Patroclus began to suspect those close to him - enemies after all, perhaps? It broke Achilles' heart to see his friend so suspicious; alas, he had to do whatever he must in order to keep Patroclus safe.
-
Ensnared by his lust, Achilles eventually attacked the one he was sworn to protect. During tea time one sunny afternoon, he slipped a very small amount of cantarella, watered down so not to turn to deadly poison, into Patroclus's drink. The man drank it, unsuspecting, until he collapsed from his chair.
Achilles smirked and carried the unconscious man off to his quarters wordlessly. Locking the door and tossing the body into his bed, he had one. With Patroclus trapped like this... He will finally be mine, Achilles gloated to himself.
Slowly, loosening his robes, he crawled over Patroclus's still form. He leaned in to plant a heated kiss on his love's lips, but froze. Achilles stared at the face he fell for, skin soft and wonderful as cotton floating in the wind. But Patroclus's expression was lightly contorted, almost as if in pain. Despite himself, Achilles believed it to be fear and worry. He moved back a bit.
A thousand, a million memories flooded through him; their time together, their childhood, Patroclus's smile. He could not desecrate this sweet man.
Tears began to roll down his face, landing on the shapely cheeks of the man below him. It looked as if the two were both weeping.
Slowly, Patroclus's eyes began to open, lush lashes fluttering over their owner's eyes for a few moments. Achilles stared down, fists clenched on either side of Patroclus's body, crying in guilt and longing.
I couldn't do it. He will never be mine.
The sadness had taken over him.
Too much time had passed and the cantarella was far too weak; Patroclus awoke! He looked around himself in a bleary daze and up at the shaken man above him. He reached a small hand up, fingers thing and perfect, to gently caress Achilles' wet face.
"Come capture me," he spoke, voice merely a whisper.
Achilles stared down at him in surprise. The man he loved all these years returned his sentiments in earnest, despite all the evils and atrocities Achilles had committed.
He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss against his lover's lips.
-
The two were together for many months after that, until Patroclus fell gravely ill. His ailment was unknown and Achilles desperately searched for a cute. After his passing and burning, a single note lay atop the bed the two lovers had shared. Opening Pandora's Box, Achilles tore the small seal off of the torn piece of paper.
"Now you, too, will feel the pain of losing a dear friend."
Scrawled on the back side was the signature of prince Hector of the Trojans. Achilles succumbed to despair, his rage rekindled.