[ Patroclus drowns out the noise with his thoughts, pacing in their small tent that Olivia should be upset with Achilles and he knows not why. After all, she had wanted to be married! He knew that for sure, one did not simply refuse a marriage by a Prince of Phthia, a commander of armies, a worlds-renowned hero as Achilles is. Surely she is angry at something else, he thinks. The idea of marriage on another planet, or perhaps she is insulted by the idea of a brideprice. Perhaps on her world, the groom's family lavishes the bride in gifts. That can be arranged-- Patroclus can assist Achilles in retrieving gifts until she is sated.

He is in the middle of plotting when Achilles returns to their tent, ego bruised and looking crestfallen. His face, in mirror to his friend's, contorts and disfigures itself into a pained expression. He makes his way over to Achilles, raises hands to his shoulders in a steadying position. ]

You could not sway Olivia?

[ Worried as he is, he is even more worried still. Perhaps Patroclus should have acted as mediator, stepped in between them to sugar Achilles' words which are sometimes prone to bend under his moods. ]

Tell me this, what is it that her heart desires? I shall help you to find it, and we shall together persuade her return to your house. I meant her no insult, but I fear her wrath is a cause of my misunderstanding. I will find her and make amends, if only you will first enlighten me as to what grievous thing I have said.