#LoungeGiftExchange

[tinacheesecat]

I had so so so much fun working on this gift as part of the @thehadeslounge gift exchange, and the receiver was super awesome about sharing, so here's the more tumblr-friendly half of it (pspsps the whole thing is on bsky and the Lounge server)

[egginround]

Winter Sun

Achilles and Patroclus go on a long-awaited day out.

Achilles x Patroclus, wordcount: 3.3k, CW: None - Written as a gift for @vityamins as part of @thehadeslounge's 2023 Holiday Gift Exchange!

If Patroclus had known Achilles would suggest such outlandish ideas, he would’ve reconsidered following him in such devotion. Though, of course, it is both a blessing and a curse that he can be so utterly persuasive.

Together, they travelled through a dim corridor of the Temple of Styx, far too narrow and winding for any sane shade to wander across. A hand in his lover’s hand, Patroclus let himself get dragged along by Achilles. The blonde warrior himself somehow seemed beside himself in excitement. It was quite a change from his usual wise and mature demeanour.

For Patroclus at least, It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to trusting Achilles. There were many times in their mortal lives where Achilles’ judgement kept them safe from danger, his skill kept him in awe, and his love kept a lightness in Patroclus’ heart, a flutter reserved for only him, that has attached itself irreversibly to his sorry soul. It’s just that, after countless years together, it was unlike his beloved to abandon such care.

Finally, they reached their destination. Dodging the fragile stalactites that grazed his hair, Patroclus took in the damp, dark surroundings. Usually such close quarters with his love wouldn’t be remiss - encouraged even - but the secrecy made a faint furrow appear on his brow.

A rickety old door stood before them. Perhaps an unfinished hallway during the construction of the Temple of Styx, Patroclus mused before his companion brought him out of his thoughts. He huddled in closer before spying Achilles reaching into a leather pouch.

His partner unfurled his fist and within it lay two silver rings. Even in the dark, Patroclus could see their almost ephemeral form, as if they could phase out of existence at any one time. He peered at them, watching the way his beloved thumbed the enchantment etched onto their inner face.

“Hades forgive me for not turning these in as soon as I saw them,” Achilles breathed out. There is no tremble in voice, no doubt that clouds his words, but Patroclus knew him inside out. He knew that he would not risk his master’s anger without due cause.

“My love, do I spy a hint of rebellion?” With a twinkle in his dark eyes, Patroclus rested his hand on the small of his love’s back, encouraging him to go on. “It is unlike you to be this secretive.”

He smiled at the blond man, but a tinge of unease pulled it wider than usual. Intimate years together and unbearable ones apart, their bond was strong and transcended even mortal life. Still, a quiet Achilles was not one he was used to - especially when together (and when his lips were not otherwise occupied). Gently, he nudged him to continue. For all his efforts, Achilles just bumped his forehead against his.

“These two rings from a shade sentenced to Asphodel. One that used to be at the height of fame in Elysium before they were punished for contraband,” Achilles said, rolling them deftly between his fingers. The sleek silver might have seemed at odds with the warrior’s calloused hands, but when it were those same hands had held Patroclus so gently, had soothed the worry from his skin countless times - it only felt right. “Thanatos held onto these prior to me.”

“Ah, the spirit of death?”

“The very same,” Achilles said, fondness colouring his voice. “It was actually by his grace that I came by these. ‘A favour’, he said to me. I think he may have been satisfied to finally see the lad happy, and somehow thought that I was the one to help.”

The gleam in his eyes spoke of memories of fonder times and younger love that squeezed Patroclus’ heart.

“If he is feeling the way that I suspect, then he can only be half as blessed as me.”

“Hush, love.” A silly smile crept onto Achilles face as Patroclus fiddled with the pale hair that peeked out his hair band.

“These relics are powerful. They -”, Achilles cleared his throat. “They could bring us to the surface for but a day.”

Patroclus stilled.

Fear is for the weak, Patroclus knew this. But, a well-advised avoidance to further danger could always be appreciated. A shade stepping out to mortal soil would have been banned thrice over if Hades knew of it, and with the short time that had passed since their reunion, Patroclus could think of nothing worse than to be ripped from Achilles’ arms again.

Ever attendant, Achilles noticed the shock in his beloved’s eyes.

“I know.” He soothed his partner’s panic with a touch, fingers shaking slightly as he laced their hands together. “But please, let me do this for you. Just this once.”

The tension in Patroclus’ throat persisted, but ultimately it was hard for him to resist. Not when the red brushing over his lover’s cheeks seemed to rival the blood of titans themselves. Not for the man he loved.

Patroclus in turn tugged Achilles’ fingers in, curling them further into his palm. The hitched breath his beloved took could have been stolen from his own lungs. Patroclus thinks he’d gladly give him every last one. He gave him an affectionate look before the idea of walking together in the sun sent his heart fluttering.

“Then, my Achilles, let’s go.”

Beaming, Achilles slipped the ring onto the myrmidon’s middle finger and swiftly donned his own. The metal hissed and stretched as it became accustomed to its new home, with its flickering form calming down into a regular thin ring. A day’s use only - it was possible that they were never meant to be enchanted for long. Patroclus flexed his fingers as he examined the curious thing. Satisfied, he looks up to Achilles for the next steps. The smile he sees on his face makes him think the sun is here already.

The bright light dazzled.

Achilles threw up a hand over his eyes as he side-stepped out of the hidden exit of the Underworld into the snowy landscape. A chill that had nothing to do with the weather dripped down his spine as the fear of Hades’ wrath tinged his mind. His other hand coaxed Patroclus along, hearing a slight chuckle behind him, and he suddenly found it quite hard to care. At least, not for now.

It was definitely a stark difference to the warm darkness they were both accustomed to. The pop and sizzles of lava far away, the slick gushing of blood from the River Styx long gone. The cold of the mortal realm was so biting compared to the fires of the Underworld. As he pressed on, bitterly regretting a lack of proper clothing, Achilles could not help but feel the heat from Patroclus’ hand in his. Maybe he would not feel so cold after all.

Snow crunching under his feet, he led them onwards. He was sure that Patroclus was feeling the sting of the cold as much as he did. In his haste to sneak the two of them out, Achilles had forgotten to warn Patroclus of the icy weather. He turned to apologise, but the wonder on his beloved’s face had the words catching in his throat.

Of course, how could Achilles forget? As a servant of Hades, he had known of the surface world and kept up with their changes from the trickles of gossip that flowed through the House. A resident of Elysium would not.

“Pat, I must apologise. I should have prepared you better-”

“My love,” Patroclus whispered, the reverence in his tone bringing Achilles to a stop. “Was the world always so bright?”

A strange melancholy twists itself in Achilles’ chest.

In their mortal life, their work as soldiers never lent itself well to seeing the beauty of the natural world. He cast his eyes over the snowy mountain caps glittering in the distance, the crisp ice gleaming off the branches flanking their path. He didn’t even know what to say. Instead, he chose to rest his palm on his dearest’s shoulder. Patroclus wrapped his fingers around it absent-mindedly in return as he continued to take in a shocking new world.

“I loved our mortal lives together, but I was callous,” Achilles began. “I made mistakes that cost us our happiness, our future.”

The words welled up in Achilles’ throat, but he pressed on, gasping. “I think that I wanted to relive a moment of that, but without the pointless haste that gripped me before.”

Patroclus knows all too well the regret that wound itself around his love.

“I thought of this the whole while,” Achilles dryly chuckled, laying against his shoulder. “Of what I would do had I another day with you in the mortal realm.”

Raising his other hand to stop before Achilles could continue, Patroclus held Achilles’ hand tighter, feeling the cool metal of the ring clink between the two of them.

“Do not torment yourself, my love. I could think of no realm I would ever want to be in without you - mortal or otherwise.” Softening, Patroclus stroked the hand in his with his thumb. “I mean it. I would trade eternal paradise, a thousand more years walking in the sun, if it meant I could spend even a day more with you.”

The shy grin that he felt pressed into his skin makes one of his own creep onto his face. The two of them swayed there, hands slipping off Patroclus shoulder to stay clasped between their chests, before Achilles jolted.

“How could I forget? We still have to press on, Pat, there’s so much we must not miss!”

Snorting, Patroclus resigned again to Achilles’ lead, fingers tangled a tad tighter in his hold.

The winter sun was high in the sky when the two of them reached their destination. Standing on a hilltop, Patroclus looked down at a village below. It was not what he remembered. The houses looked the same, yet different - a change in the style of the walls, an adjustment in the slope of the roofs. It’s a weird feeling in the back of his head, he thought, to see the world move on without him. Thankfully though, the afterlife had eroded his ego, his shameless pride, that plagued him in mortal life. There was a comfort in seeing the people live their lives without the fear of war like he did before. It was peace like this that marked humanity, he thought again, not senseless violence or pointless conquest.

The breeze brushed some of Achilles’ hair onto him as they stood together, taking in the sight. Patroclus began to ask where his love was so excited to take him but he spied the same introspection in his eyes. Something in him softened at the look. Instead, Patroclus elected to leave a small kiss on his companion’s forehead, bringing him out his thoughts gently. It seemed that after so long, the need for words had dissolved between them. Achilles finally looks to him too, and he knows they think the same.

“It makes the wars we waged seem so pointless,” Achilles said in a quiet hush, as if the breeze might carry the words away.

“It does,” he replied. “But our time has passed. The fates can be so cruel, and yet these people continue to live on.”

“They do, don’t they?”

“Yes, my love,” Patroclus brought Achilles into an embrace. “And so must we. Elysium gives too many heroes the same glory and fame they chased in life, but I found myself no longer wanting that. I wanted to see the future, with you.”

Achilles hummed. “Shall we see for ourselves what that future might be?”

A tiny sigh of relief escaped Patroclus at the lift of his partner’s mood. They both had their demons to bear, but it was always much easier when they were together. Smiling, Patroclus let Achilles lead him on once more.

The two of them walked round to the borders of the village. After their solemn moment atop the hill, the tension in Patroclus’ chest had now eased. A silly, almost giddy, grin stretched over his face. One he had neither the control or the will to push down. It had been so long since the two of them had snuck around, just as they did in youth.

Before them stretched a long cobblestone path. Tufts of grass sprouted between the dusting of snow that adorned the grey stones, worn down from years of use. It looked like a busy day to visit. The din of the village centre could be heard even from the outskirts where the two of them stood as clusters of people filled the streets.

Achilles and Patroclus must have stood out like a sore thumb.

Still - one does not become a living legend just by sitting on the sidelines. As such, Achilles charged right into the crowds with his lover in tow. All kinds of people bustled past. People of various styles, tall heights and short, and even several families tugging along petulant children, lined the streets of the village. It seemed there was a festival in town, as there was no way a village so small could sustain the traffic that poured through the stone streets. The people haggled and traded, sang and danced. They ate, laughed and were merry. The same fondness for humanity that Achilles felt on the hilltop stirred in his chest. What a wonderful gift - to be human.

Patroclus was caught in similar musings when the shrill ringing of a child’s voice piped up closeby.

“Sirs! Sirs!” the voice squeaked.

Patroclus furrowed his brows, clearly confused and perhaps a bit dismayed at the interruption of his trip with his dearest. Achilles himself, however, seemed more than amused.

“I believe a little lad is asking for us,” he whispered underneath his breath. The faint smile on his partner’s face has Patroclus relenting yet again. It seemed Achilles could never escape his soft spot for the young.

Again, the voice rang out - “Sirs! The tall sirs in the funny clothes!”

Patroclus’ eyebrow twitched. Whatever attention the child wanted, he certainly had it now. Patroclus pushed through the crowd to find the source of this clearly fashion-forward child, and found him by a stand at the corner of the street.

The stand itself was not a great source of interest. The chipped wood signalled years of reuse, and the faded cloth lining it must have been passed down for generations. What was most interesting about the counter were the piles of golden pastries, freshly-baked bread and iced cakes, almost sparkling in the winter light, that adorned the space. A rumble resonated in Patroclus’ stomach - one he wasn’t sure shades could even do. Achilles thought it was hilarious, before a withering look had him stifling his grin.

The child in question had escaped to the folds of what seemed to be his grandmother’s skirt. The woman herself was tending to the stall and seemed quite busy appeasing the customers eyeing her produce. A shuffle of fabric, and a quick swipe of a chubby hand is all Patroclus spied before the child reappeared again.

“Hello lad,” Achilles began, evidently finding the situation all too amusing. “What could you be calling us for?”

“Your funny clothes look too cold!” the child shouts. This seemed to grab the attention of his guardian, who was wide-eyed in shock and all too ready to apologise for her grandson’s behaviour.

“Aleta!” she reprimanded. “What did we say about bothering nice gentlemen?!”

“They look too cold and skinny, g’ma! You said we should feed the cold skinny ones!” The child waved a golden-brown bun in front of their faces, still steaming in the winter chill.

The woman simply looked aghast.

Achilles chuckled. “Your boy has done nothing of the sort, not at all. If anything, he has done us a favour by bringing us to such a lovely array.”

“Oh,” the old lady breathed a sigh of relief. “You are simply too sweet. These old bones may creek, but I’ll be damned if they don’t whip up something good!”

Huffing, Patroclus ended up finding it hard to stay annoyed at the child. The ex-warrior stood by his love, allowing him to chat with the baker who was charmed at his admiration. It wasn’t long before she shooed the two of them away with a warm smile, thrusting a pair of fresh bread rolls into their arms. Only mildly miffed at Achilles flirting his way into free food (to which he denied), Patroclus found he could not deny his cravings any longer. He thanked the woman and her grandson wholeheartedly, before walking on and tearing into the roll. He savoured the sweet milky filling that spilled forth. It had been so long since he could appreciate the warmth of baked goods on a cold day, and share the delight with his beloved.

The two of them continued to amble down the streets. Their stomachs were pleasantly full, bringing an ease to their pace. The winter sun no longer seemed so harsh when Patroclus could enjoy himself with Achilles. There was a lightheartedness to him that he wished he saw more in his partner. Too often had guilt and penance chained themselves tight to his lover, and Patroclus was more than glad to see Achilles free of his shackles - if only for a day.

“Achilles, this might have been your best idea yet,” he hummed as the two of them walked side by side. The crowds of people seemed to have died down by then, with most stalls packing up for the day.

“Even better than when I tried to outlaw onions in our barracks, hm?”

“Well … that is hard to beat,” Patroclus said with a sly smile. “But no, I really cannot thank you enough. I do not know how long it has been since we have walked these lands, but I know that whenever I dreamt of it, it was always by your side.”

“You are such a sap sometime, Pat,” Achilles responds, eyes softening in the way reserved for only him, before admitting, “I cannot tell you how happy that makes me.”

A lifetime together and an afterlife more, yet still Patroclus had to look away from his companion, lest the adoration he would see in his eyes cause a falter in his heartbeat, and a stumble in his step.

The sun had dipped low in the sky before the pair had the good sense to return to the Underworld. Thankfully, Achilles and Patroclus were able to slip back into the Underworld without a hitch. The most reaction they received was from a raised eyebrow from Hypnos - who, if he knew what was good for him, would not dare mention Achilles’ absence if he didn’t want his trysts with a certain ferryman to be made public. It seemed that the House of Hades was incredibly busy yet again, and for once, Achilles was grateful for it.

The journey back to Elysium did not take long. The warmth of the day had nestled itself deeply into Achilles’ heart, and it made their travels seem far too short. Unfortunately however, it soon became time for them to depart.

“My love, I’d wager that this day was worth the years I spent without you,” Patroclus said with a soft smile. “I’d wager again that it will stay with me for years to come.”

A giddy laugh bubbled out of Achilles in response. He held his dear Patroclus’ cheek in his hand, hoping that his touch could convey all that his heart finds so hard to say. The small peck he received on his palm let him know he understood this and more. Achilles could not help but draw him in, lips teasing the edge of Patroclus’ mouth, as he sealed the promise of eternal love with a kiss.

Between their clapsed hands, the silver of their rings glinted in the light.