Patrochilles ~ Anything But Lovers

It's Thetis, Bitch

The news of Patroclus and Achilles' burgeoning love echoed through the halls of Olympus, reaching the ears of Thetis, the silver-footed goddess and mother to Achilles. Her heart, cold as the Aegean depths, hardened with fury. This mortal, this weakness, would not steal her son's glory, not when it was prophesied to be etched in the stars.

One moonlit night, while Achilles slept, Thetis descended upon the Myrmidon camp. Her eyes, usually the color of the summer sky, were now storm clouds, filled with a chilling resolve. She found Patroclus, alone in his tent, lost in a dream of sun-drenched meadows and shared laughter.

The tent flap billowed open, revealing Thetis, her form shimmering with divine power. Fear, cold and sharp, pricked at Patroclus' skin. "You," she hissed, her voice like the wind through cypress trees, "you dare steal my son's destiny?"

Patroclus, though no warrior, stood his ground. "I love him, Thetis," he said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "And he loves me. Is that a crime?"

Thetis' laugh was a cruel sound, like waves crashing against jagged rocks. "Love is a trickery of mortals, a fleeting flame that consumes even the brightest stars. I will not let it consume Achilles."

With a flick of her wrist, a wave of icy magic swept towards Patroclus. He stumbled back, gasping, feeling the life drain from his limbs. The goddess advanced, her hand outstretched, ready to deliver the final blow.

Suddenly, a roar echoed through the night. Achilles, awakened by the tremor of magic, burst into the tent. He saw Patroclus, pale and struggling, and Thetis, her face contorted in hatred.

"Mother!" he roared, his voice shaking the very tent poles. "What have you done?"

Thetis turned, her eyes flashing with cold fury. "Saving him, Achilles," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "Saving you from a fate worse than death."

But Achilles saw only his love, his soulmate, teetering on the brink. He lunged forward, his celestial spear a blur of light. Thetis, surprised by her son's ferocity, raised a hand to shield herself. The spear struck the barrier, sending sparks flying.

The clash of their divine powers shook the camp, waking the sleeping Myrmidons. Chiron, sensing the danger, galloped towards the tent, his hooves pounding the earth.

Thetis, seeing her advantage waning, vanished in a flash of light, leaving behind a chilling silence. Achilles rushed to Patroclus, his hands shaking as he cradled his face. The warmth was slowly returning, the color blooming back on his cheeks.

"You saved me," Patroclus whispered, his voice weak but filled with gratitude.

Achilles held him close, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Always," he vowed, his voice thick with emotion. "Even from the gods themselves."