Actions

Work Header

Future Glimpse

Work Text:

Patroclus' eyes fluttered open to see Achilles sleeping there next to him. The blankets Chiron had provided were thick and soft even though it was still autumn. But they were old after all, it was easy to get cold. 

'The joys of being seventy-two', mused Patroclus.

The cold didn't affect Achilles as much, the blood of the gods still running strong through his veins. Though, his godhood didn't stop him aging. The grey of his hair competing with the gold that remained. 

Reaching out, Patroclus brushed Achilles hair aside, tucking the grey-gold strands behind a wrinkled ear. Achilles murmured, shifting closer and Patroclus smiled, moving his hand to cress the crows feet at his eyes, ever present since Achilles turned fifty. 

A lot had changed about Achilles since the war but never his eyes, green and forever fond, the same eyes gazing at me now. 

We did little to nothing the rest of the morning, exchanging touches and glances as we went about our day. That afternoon we sat at camp eating lunch as we spoke to Chiron. A young boy was to arrive at the mountain next month, Chiron's new student. We would not get to meet him, our visit would be over by then and we would be back in Phthia. Achilles would be busy embarrassing the new servants by kissing me in plain sight and I, as alway, would gently scold him, trying my best and failing to not smile. 

Biting into a fig the richness of it spilled over my tongue but something was off, the texture not quite right. The taste of iron filled my mouth soon followed by a spill of blood. A jarring breath rattled my chest as something gave way. My gaze jerked towards Achilles, the glinting green of his eyes meeting mine and between one blink and the next, there was Hector, standing over me, twisting his spear into my side, the pain stealing my breath. 

It was then that I knew, as sure as Achilles loved me, we would not grow old together, I will never get to see his greying hair, Achilles would not get the chance to embarrass the servants, there would be no laugh lines telling the world of his life's joy and I will never get to wake next to him again. Achilles would mourn me.