Well, what a strange thing that I, a person who has only written HP relatted fics, am here, with an Iliad story. Actually, I'm not that crazy. I wrote this as a birthday presend for a friend of mine who is nuts about Achilles/Patroclus. I already gave this to her and she liked it so I thought: why not publish it? So here it is. Hope you guys like this as well and leave a review (:


Achilles sat at the beach, staring at the ocean.

His hands held a small piece of clothing. It was made of linen and was so soft to the touch.

The article still held the scent of its owner.

Achilles didn't notice or, perhaps, didn't even care anymore, but he let a single tear fall from his eyes to his face, making a trail over his cheek.

He's dead. He's gone and I'll never see him again.

He shook his head, placing his hands on his face, the clothing near his nose, so he could smell its scent. The scent that always made him feel better, happier.

Now he had only a few more days, if he was lucky two weeks maybe, to feel that way again.

He wished he had the power to make that scent stay on the linen fabric until the day he died.

The other soldiers were calling, he could hear from a distance.

Achilles shouldn't show his emotions in front of those men. They wouldn't understand.

Looking once more at the blue and white waves, the man stood up and put the fabric into his tunic, in a small pocket sewed near his chest.

The hero would be near Patroclus again.

And he hoped it would be soon.