[That Achilles has known death before, that he has had Patroclus pried from him once already, does not dull the pain that at present devours his heart. Indeed, it only hurts all the more: just as when a stone shatters the peace of a pond, sending ever widening ripples across its face, so too does his dear companion's death rattle his heart ever more violently with its reverberation.
More than once in the past fortnight he has been possessed by the sharp urge to set a blade against his own flesh and in doing so set himself free from this suffering. It was his duty to lay Patroclus to rest that bade him live, for if he failed this promise to his friend then who would welcome him to that far shore whose banks he once scorned but now sound so sweet?
He watches as Sieglinde cools the ashes by her gifts: thus ends the short blaze of Patroclus' glorious life. He stands then, but only to crouch down in the remainder of the pyre, his gaze as heavy as his heart and his voice but a murmur.]
Take heed, now - his bones lie at the center of the pyre. At the edges are scattered the bones of the oxen sacrificed, and these must not mingle with my dear friend.
cw: self-harm allusion
More than once in the past fortnight he has been possessed by the sharp urge to set a blade against his own flesh and in doing so set himself free from this suffering. It was his duty to lay Patroclus to rest that bade him live, for if he failed this promise to his friend then who would welcome him to that far shore whose banks he once scorned but now sound so sweet?
He watches as Sieglinde cools the ashes by her gifts: thus ends the short blaze of Patroclus' glorious life. He stands then, but only to crouch down in the remainder of the pyre, his gaze as heavy as his heart and his voice but a murmur.]
Take heed, now - his bones lie at the center of the pyre. At the edges are scattered the bones of the oxen sacrificed, and these must not mingle with my dear friend.