We'll Make This Day A Better One
Happy birthday Lille!!
I hope you enjoy reading this - I tried my best to make it as good as possible because you're really special and important to me and I hoped that I could portray that through this. I hope you have an awesome day because you deserve it. You're an amazing person, and I'm so lucky to have you in my life ❤️❤️
Involved characters: Achilles Woods, Patroclus Calliades, Philomela Calliade, Thetis, Pontus, Kyveli Calliade (mentioned), Myra Calliade (mentioned), Patroclus Menoitiades (mentioned), Achilles Pelides (mentioned), Chiron (mentioned), Poseidon (mentioned)
It wasn’t the rising of the sun that woke Patroclus that morning; as a child of Apollo, Patroclus naturally woke at sunrise and rose with the sun, but when it was the height of summer and sunrise was at four in the morning, Patroclus usually went back to sleep pretty quickly. So, no, it wasn’t the sun that woke him up properly that morning. Nor was it his alarm clock waking him up for work, because he had turned it off long ago at the start of the summer holiday period. And it wasn’t Achilles, pressing lazy morning kisses to his neck and shoulder, because he was still asleep beside him – although Patroclus doubted he would be for much longer either. No – rather, what woke him up was the feeling of the bed moving slightly as a small figure jumped up and down on it next to his previously sleeping body, and the sound of a young girl’s happy giggling and tiny hands shaking him vigorously, trying to rouse him from his slumber. “Baba! Baba! Wake uppp!” Patroclus couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he continued to pretend to be asleep. He heard the little girl huff in annoyance, and he cracked an eye open to peek at the dark-haired six-year-old before quickly closing it again when she suddenly turned to look at his face before she could see. He was a split-second too late, however, as he heard her soft gasp and she resumed shaking him again. It was no surprise – she was Achilles’ daughter after all, and he had never been able to escape being caught looking at Achilles. “Baba! I saw thattt! I know you’re awake!” Patroclus let out a soft laugh and, when she went to shake him a final time, quickly sat up and grabbed on to her, capturing her in a hug before tickling her gently, causing the little girl, his and Achilles’ daughter Philomela, to burst into loud giggling. It was only when he heard Achilles stir a little beside him, although staying asleep for the moment, that Patroclus stopped and pressed a finger to his lips to signal Philomela to be quiet before he picked up the young girl as he got out of bed, carrying her out of the bedroom. “Come on, we have to be quiet, or we’ll wake your baba up on his birthday.” He said, his voice lowered in a comical whisper, causing Philomela to let out another quiet giggle before she covered her mouth with her hands and nodded quickly in agreement. Patroclus chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her hair as he carried her into the kitchen. With the practised ease of having done this for the last three years, he pulled a chair over to the countertop before setting Philomela carefully down on it and moving to stand beside her as he gathered all the tools and utensils they would need, Philomela’s gold-flecked green eyes watching his every move with poorly contained excitement the whole time. “Okay, so, what should we make your baba for breakfast this year?” Patroclus asked, turning to look at the young girl, “Pancakes?” A shake of a head. “No? Okay. Omelettes?” Another shake. “Nah, you’re right.” Patroclus pretended to think for a long time, acting confused, and Philomela let out a soft giggle. “Babaaa, his favouritee.” She prompted, pointing over at the toaster sat a few feet away. “Oh, right! Bacon, eggs and toast, how could I possibly forget? You’re right, little mermaid.” Patroclus replied, pressing a quick kiss to Philomela’s head as he moved around the kitchen to start making breakfast for Achilles. Soon, the kitchen was filled with sound of sizzling as the bacon cooked in the pan, Philomela helping by putting the bread in the toaster and getting the milk from the fridge for Achilles’ cup of tea. Philomela wasn’t able to help much after that, just watch with a disappointed pout as the breakfast was made and plated up, and Patroclus felt bad for his daughter; but he had already promised her during one of Achilles’ previous birthdays that once she was old enough, he would let her make the breakfast. It wasn’t entirely enough to placate her, when she pretty much forgot about the promise after about five seconds, but it prevented a tantrum at the very least. And even now, a few years later, she didn’t cry anymore; just stood there and pout as she watched. Once the food was done and prepared, however, Patroclus was able to cheer her up by giving her something that she could do – wake Achilles up. While Patroclus finished up with making Achilles’ tea, he listened to the sounds of Philomela hurrying back to her fathers’ bedroom, and then resuming with jumping on the bed and doing whatever she could to wake Achilles. It didn’t take long – Achilles wasn’t exactly a deep-sleeper – and soon there was more of Philomela’s giggling. Patroclus had intended to take the food to Achilles to give him breakfast in bed, but as he busied himself with stirring the sugar in the tea to dissolve it, he didn’t notice the person walking up beside him until he felt a soft kiss on his cheek, “Morning,” Achilles’ voice sounded next to his ear, causing Patroclus to quickly turned his head to look. Sure enough, Achilles was standing there behind him, Philomela tucked under his arm – although she seemed to be enjoying it, if the quiet giggling and the kicking of her legs was anything to go by. “Hey—You’ve ruined my breakfast-in-bed plan!” Patroclus poked Achilles’ cheek lightly, frowning a little in mock-disappointment, “I was going to make it all romantic and everything.” Achilles chuckled softly, stealing a quick kiss that Patroclus couldn’t help but smile at. “Oops, sorry.” Achilles answered, although Patroclus could tell that he didn’t mean the apology at all just from the cheeky grin on his face. Patroclus rolled his eyes lightly with a smile, pushing his shoulder lightly – although not with any real force in it. “Yeah, of course you are. Just – put our daughter down, and go and sit at the table so that I can at least bring your breakfast to you.” Achilles laughed softly but obliged and set Philomela down, who then immediately scurried over to the table to clamber up and sit on one of the chairs. Achilles followed after her and settled down into a seat beside her. A moment later, Patroclus carried over the plate of food and the cup of tea and set them down on the table in front of Achilles. He pressed a soft kiss to Achilles’ jaw. “Happy birthday, baby.” He murmured, following his words with another kiss pressed against Achilles’ still-messy-from-bed golden locks of hair before he headed back over to the kitchen counter to make some food for him and Philomela – Cretan-style honey pancakes. Patroclus had been making a point of making Philomela, and Achilles as well, as many traditional Greek dishes as he could, and so far the pancakes were Philomela’s favourite. To the point where she even said that her favourite god was Melisseus, not that she could ever pronounce nor remember his name, because he was the god of honey – to the… mild annoyance of her godly grandparents. They passed the morning in contentment, enjoying the food that Patroclus had made, and each other’s presence – just like they would any other day. For Achilles’ sake, Patroclus tried to make his birthday as normal a day as he could; aside from a special breakfast, and a ‘happy birthday’, Patroclus did his best not to place too much emphasis on the importance of the day as he could. As much as it was Achilles’ birthday, he knew it wasn’t Achilles’ favourite day of the year; the day before had been the anniversary of Patroclus’ death in their previous lifetime. He had spent the day holed up in their bedroom with Patroclus just doing nothing but holding Achilles and making sure that Achilles knew that he was there and alive and breathing. It was the same every year; Kyveli and Myra would come to look after Philomela for the day and just let Patroclus do what he needed to do to comfort Achilles. Philomela didn’t yet understand why her dad was always sad the day before his birthday, but she knew not to ask any questions; and when Achilles could finally bring himself to leave the room at the end of the day, she would always come over with a hug for her baba. Patroclus’ past life’s death also made Achilles’ birthday difficult to handle too, being the day after, so Patroclus just tried to act as if it was just an average day. At the same time, he also wanted to start making the day one that Achilles could look forward to, and look back on fondly – so after Philomela was born, he had started a tradition they had carried out every year. And this year was no different. “Everyone done?” Patroclus asked once the plates had been cleared – or mostly cleared, in the case of Achilles – not waiting for a response before he got up. Achilles’ eating habits had gotten better over the years, but they always got slightly worse around this time, so it didn’t raise any alarm bells to Patroclus. He just pressed a comforting kiss to Achilles’ temple as he gathered up the dishes, scraped the remaining food from Achilles’ into the bin, and put the dishes in the sink. He would deal with them later, since Philomela was practically bouncing in her seat in excitement and would not be able to be patient enough to wait until he was done. “Let’s go! Let’s go! Beach! Beach!” Philomela chanted, clambering down from her chair to run to her bedroom and grabbed the bag that Patroclus had helped her pack the night with her towel and a bottle of suncream, and also some snacks, before rejoining her two fathers, a bright and excited smile on her face. Patroclus chuckled softly, ruffling her hair lightly. While Philomela had been gone, he and Achilles had made sure to get dressed quickly – Philomela loved the beach, and she hated it when any trips to the beach were delayed. “Yes, it’s beach time.” He replied, leading her over to the front door and grabbing his keys while Achilles grabbed the bag that had his and Patroclus’ things in. Once Achilles had joined them at the door, Patroclus unlocked it and stepped out of the house, followed by his husband and daughter, and locked it once more. “Okay, now, remember to hold our hands now, Mela.” Achilles prompted, holding out his hand to Philomela, who giggled and nodded quickly in response before taking it, and Patroclus’ as well. “Yes, Baba!” She answered happily, walking alongside her fathers as they made their way away from their home and through the streets of Volos towards the beach. Anavros beach was their closest, and it was a beautiful beach. Before Philomela was born, Achilles and Patroclus didn’t often go there – they were busy during the school year with their jobs at the university, and during the summer period, they spent it on Mt Pelion. But after Philomela was born, they couldn’t go to Mount Pelion for the first summer after her birth, since they didn’t want to travel to and live on a mountain for an entire summer when she was so young. So, instead, Patroclus came up with the idea to take her to the beach instead – as a grandchild of both Pontus and Thetis, Patroclus knew Philomela would love it, and she did. They had gone on Achilles’ birthday, and afterwards, Patroclus proposed making it a tradition. Even after Philomela turned four and they started going to Pelion during the summer again, taking Philomela with them, they still kept up with the tradition, returning to Volos for a few days before and after Achilles birthday before then going back to the mountain. Which is what they were doing now. In a couple of days, they would make the journey back to Mount Pelion, and spend the rest of the rest of the summer in the rose-quartz cave, teaching Philomela about their history, about Chiron and their childhoods. In time, they would bring Philomela to Camp Half-Blood and introduce her to Chiron himself, when she was a little older, and able to understand what the demigod world was. For now, they just told her that Chiron was part of the family too, and someone very special to Patroclus, as well as Achilles. But, for the time being, it was their new annual beach tradition. The moment Philomela’s feet touched the sand, she was already trying to pull away from her fathers, not that Patroclus or Achilles let her, securely holding on to her hands as they walked with her across the sandy beach towards the rolling waves. The sea was calm today, which Patroclus was glad for. It meant that the sea gods were in a good mood. Once they were near the water, Patroclus let go of Philomela’s hand, letting Achilles continue leading her into the water while he went about laying out a couple of beach towels onto the sand for them to sit on. Philomela was always disappointed by Patroclus’ reluctance to go in the water – but this was supposed to be a happy day, meant to distract Achilles and make him feel better; Patroclus wasn’t about to ruin it by inciting Thetis’ wrath. Besides, he was happy enough to sit on the sand and watch as Achilles played with Philomela in the water, watching the little girl giggle as Achilles held her in his arms while he splashed her with water and giggle as they went searching through the rolling waves and wet sand for seashells that they would later bring home, wash and set up on Philomela’s windowsill. Philomela didn’t know yet about her heritage or her powers or even what she was, but even so, they wanted to cultivate a bond with the ocean in her; they didn’t know yet if she would be a legacy of Pontus or a legacy of Thetis, or even both, but either way she was destined to be a daughter of the sea and they wanted to raise her to love what was in her blood. Achilles had taught her all about marine life, she had been fascinated to hear everything he knew about sharks, and half of her stuffies had used to belong to Achilles - ones that he had given to her after getting more for himself. They took her to aquariums, and on boat rides; they had all gone swimming with dolphins when she was five, and they had listened to everything Philomela had said the dolphins had told her – because they knew that it was very likely that she had actually been talking to the dolphins. One of the things that Patroclus knew Achilles was excited for was to eventually take her underwater, once she knew the truth; Achilles was so impatient to teach Philomela all about her powers, and to show her all the cool things they could do. Patroclus had thought he might have felt somewhat left out, being that he could only watch from the sidelines, but he didn’t – he loved watching Achilles’ bond with Philomela through showing her the ocean. He loved seeing the smile on Achilles’ face whenever he got to spend that time with Philomela, and part of him felt that it was better that he wasn’t involved – this was Achilles and Philomela’s special time. Patroclus was pulled from his thoughts then by Philomela running up to him, her arms full of seashells, and a bright smile on her face, Achilles not far behind her. She wasn’t at all soaked, even though she had just been playing in the water, but Patroclus had long since become accustomed to this after years of being married to Achilles. “Baba! Look at all these seashells we collected!” She moved to hold them out to show Patroclus, but she had so many stacked in her arms that just the simple motion of doing so caused them to spill out onto the sand at her feet. Philomela let out a soft ‘oh’ and just stared at them. Patroclus chuckled softly, retrieving her sandbucket from the bag Achilles had brought with them, holding it out. “Put them in here, sea star, that way you won’t drop any.” He said. Philomela nodded quickly in response before she began quickly gathering them up again and placing them delicate into the bucket as if they were made of glass. Patroclus watched her with a warm smile before setting the bucket down when she was done and pulling her into a hug, stroking the small curls of her dark hair, “Are you having fun with Baba in the sea?” “Oh, she definitely is, she only agreed to leave the water for a snack because I told her we could show you the seashells.” Achilles replied, shaking his head lightly with a smile as he sat down next to Patroclus, his head instinctively falling to rest on Patroclus’ shoulder. Patroclus paused at that, and retrieved his phone from his pocket only to find that three hours had passed while he had been lost in his thoughts watching Achilles and Philomela in the water. He flushed faintly in embarrassment at the thought. “Well, then let’s get some food in you and then you can go back to playing in the water.” Patroclus replied as he turned his gaze back to Philomela, Achilles stirring from his relaxed position next to Patroclus to get some of the snacks out of Philomela’s bag. Philomela, however, shook her head lightly, hugging back and snuggling into Patroclus’ embrace. “Wanna build sandcastles with Baba now.” She mumbled. Patroclus paused briefly before he smiled softly, stroking her hair once more. “Alright, we can build sandcastles. But first you need to eat, little mermaid, and we also need to get some suncream on you.” He wasn’t too worried about that before; Philomela didn’t get sunburned easily, which Patroclus had gotten confirmation from his father, Apollo, was because of Apollo’s intervention, and she was always slightly more protected from injuries, even ones like sunburn, when in the water because of the protection from not only Thetis but also Pontus, and even Poseidon. But now that she was out of the water, he wanted to get some on her – Apollo had said his protection would only last for so long. Prolonged sun-exposure, like she got during these beach days, would still burn her, it just took a little longer. Philomela nodded a little in response before finally pulling away from the hug to take the snacks and drink that Achilles had gotten for her, some Goldfish crackers and a juice box, and settle down in between them to eat. Patroclus hummed softly, brushing her dark curls out of her face before he reached into their other bag for the snacks that had been packed for him and Achilles; some sandwiches, bottles of juice and water, and some fruit and biscuits. For a few minutes, they busied themselves with eating, and then afterwards Patroclus helped Philomela apply some suncream, spraying it onto her arms and legs and neck and letting her rub it into her skin before then applying some onto her face himself so she didn’t get into her mouth or eyes. Afterwards, while Achilles busied himself with applying the suncream to himself, Patroclus settled down with Philomela in the sand and began constructing sandcastles, building high walls, and poking holes for windows. Once Achilles was done, he joined them, allowing Philomela to, very seriously, explain to him all the different areas of the castle – like the tower where the bedrooms were, and the little garden area for all the castle animals to play with each other. Achilles listened with the same level of seriousness, analysing the sandcastle like it was an epic-level masterpiece – even though there were several serious design flaws in the castle, ones that Achilles and Patroclus could both spot having grown up in palaces in their past lives, they never mentioned a single one to Philomela, both much preferring to see the pride in her face as she built the sandcastle with her own two little hands. They spent the rest of the afternoon like this, covered in sand and building the castle bigger and bigger between the three of them, all overseen by Philomela, who was not afraid to tell her fathers if they were doing it wrong – and Achilles and Patroclus followed her every command obediently. Then, as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, the sky began to darken, and the beach began to empty, Achilles and Philomela returned to the water. Philomela was beginning to get a little sleepy, and now, when there wasn’t anyone around and she was tired enough to think she was half-dreaming, was a good time for her grandparents from deep beneath the waves to come and say hi. Patroclus usually hung back for this too; he could feel Thetis glaring at him even when he stood back on the sand, so he really didn’t wish to be right next to her. But this time, Achilles managed to convince him to come with. So, with Philomela held in one of Achilles’ arm, half-sleeping on his shoulder, and the two of them holding hands, Patroclus followed Achilles into the waves until the water lapped at their waists. Achilles, of course, was still bone dry, unlike Patroclus. But he didn’t mind. With Achilles beside him, that overbearing, choking presence that washed over him wasn’t even as strong either – Thetis clearly knew that she wouldn’t be able to do anything with Achilles there, especially with her granddaughter resting so peacefully in Achilles’ arms. They were stood there for a few moments, watching the sun as it slipped further down until it touched the horizon, and that’s when, rising out of the water, came the figures of Thetis and Pontus. Of course, Thetis saw Patroclus first – Patroclus was sure he was like a stone in her shoe that she just couldn’t get rid of; part of him was rather satisfied about that. But her attention was soon captured by Achilles and the young, sleeping girl in his arms. Patroclus knew for a fact that she had, on more than one occasion, expressed displeasure that Philomela resembled Patroclus for the most part, since her biological mother had been Patroclus’ younger half-sister, but she was always happy that Philomela had Achilles’ eyes, and she placated herself in regards to the rest of Philomela’s appearance by acknowledging that, actually, Philomela looked like Kyveli and then pointedly ignoring that Kyveli was related to Patroclus. Patroclus didn’t care either way, so long as she treated Philomela well. The primordial god and the sea nymph took turns doting on the little girl, getting sleepy little responses in response, before the sky darkened further, and Philomela nuzzled her head into Achilles’ neck, mumbling about how she wanted her blanket and stuffie, and Patroclus and Achilles knew then that it was time to get her home. They bid their farewells to the two deities, waiting until they had fully submerged back into the water before they waded back out of the ocean. Achilles kept a secure hold on Philomela while Patroclus made quick work of packing everything up; he left the bucket full of seashells out, instead carrying that in his hand once he had picked up the bag, his free hand holding Achilles’ as they left the beach, and made their way back home.
· · ·
Two hours later, Philomela was tucked into bed with her favourite dolphin stuffie and blanket decorated in seahorses, fast asleep, and Patroclus and Achilles were cuddled up on their couch. The TV in the room was on, playing some movie that neither of them was really paying attention to, and in the background was the sound of running water from where the bucket of seashells were sitting in the kitchen sink, having all the sand and grit rinsed off. On the coffee table in front of the couch, the remnants of their dinner sat: a couple of plates, one empty and one with only a few remains of the food that had been made, some simple pasta and salad. Patroclus was pressing soft, tender kisses to the back of Achilles’ neck and his shoulders, brushing his fingers gently and lovingly through the golden strands of Achilles’ hair, his arm wrapped loosely yet protectively around Achilles’ waist. “Did you have a good day, baby?” He murmured, stopping the kisses in favour of nuzzling his face into the crook of Achilles’ neck. Achilles was half-dozing, slightly tired from the day’s outing himself and comfortable in the safety and warmth of Patroclus’ arms. Although he was still awake enough to turn around and shift slightly so that his head was resting against Patroclus’ chest before settling down again. Patroclus knew he did this so that he could hear the beat of Patroclus’ heart; he knew because it was something he did himself for a long time after he almost lost Achilles all those years ago, when Eris was rising in power. Achilles gave a small nod after a moment, and let out a contented hum, “Thank you.” Was all he said in response, snuggling into Patroclus’ warmth more. Patroclus smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Achilles’ hair. He knew there was a chance they would end up falling asleep here on the couch, it wouldn’t have been the first time, Patroclus often didn’t like moving Achilles when he was comfy like this – especially since Achilles often had trouble sleeping so Patroclus was loathe to wake him whenever he finally did fall asleep just to move them to the bed. “You have nothing to thank me about. I love seeing you happy, and that’s all I want for you.” He replied, softly, so as to not disturb Achilles. Outside the windows of the living room, the sky was dark, and he could just see a sliver of the moon from where he lay. He remembered a time when the moon used to calm him when his sleep was plagued with nightmares of a boy and some dice in a kingdom he had long since stopped thinking about; that had been after he had first begun to spend his days with Achilles, and their bond had grown. Before then, his nightmares had been even more horrible and not even the sight of the moon could soothe him. It was almost like the moon goddess, Selene, had been telling him that she was only half of the equation; she alone could not provide him with peaceful sleep, he needed Achilles too. Lying on the couch with Achilles laid on top of him, his breathing slow and steady with sleep, Patroclus couldn’t help but whisper a soft prayer to Selene into the still air of the living room, hoping that she would help aid Achilles’ sleep too, like she had Patroclus’. The last thought Patroclus had after he closed his eyes, feeling sleep begin to overtake him too, was that, despite all the tragedy of the past, he wouldn’t change a thing that had happened – because they had all led to this moment, sleeping peacefully with his husband in his arms, and their daughter safe and happy in her bed upstairs. Perhaps Aphrodite deserved a prayer too, although that could wait for tomorrow.