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Patroclus was still young, only 17, and Achilles was hardly much older. They'd spent a couple years training under Chiron, soaking in the wisdom and skills he chose to teach. Patroclus had learned much, and yet.
It was winter, and winter often brought its troubles. Unlike the spring, it was impossible to pick ripe fruits or play outside for hours with no worries of catching the sniffles.
When winter came, the water did not freeze, for it was a flowing river - not stilled even by the lack of a breeze. The water was chilled and biting, Patroclus knew better, and yet.
In the middle of the night, despite all of Patroclus' newfound skills and wisdom, despite the biting cold, despite the flowing water, he and Achilles bundled up and went to the river. They shared a kiss, giggling at their own childish act of bravery, sneaking out when they knew they shouldn't.
Whenever they kissed, Patroclus felt invincible. Even his fear of Thetis was forgotten - he was a new man. Perhaps it was this that caused him to slip, the feeling that Achilles would always catch him. But down he fell, submerged in the freezing river.
The biting cold faded away to numbness fairly quickly; Achilles shouted his name and dragged him out as fast as he could. But the water had done its damage already.
"What is the meaning of this?" The groggy old centaur said when Achilles approached his abode, carrying Patroclus' shivering body with unshed tears. When Chiron saw, he immediately got to work, any chastisement dead on his tongue.
"Bring him to the fire. Now."
Achilles obeyed without a word, which was so unlike him. Patroclus would not stop shivering. The boy's round eyes were closed, a line between his brows revealing his distress even in unconsciousness. Chiron piled on so many old blankets Achilles feared his friend would drown in them.
He stayed there for what felt like hours, but in reality was only minutes. He stroked his dearest friend's face, praying to gods he was distantly related to. Chiron laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"He will be sick when he wakes up," he informed Achilles, "but he will be fine."
Achilles nodded, allowing himself to feel some relief in those words.
Chiron paused. Then, "What the Hades were you thinking?"
Achilles groaned, knowing this question was coming. "I don't know, I- we were just having a bit of fun, but then he--"
"-A bit of fun? What could you possibly be doing out in the middle of the night in this freezing snow?" Chiron cut in.
Achilles' cheeks and ears turned a darker shade of pink before he could catch himself. "Nothing." A pause. "Nothing bad," he amended.
Patroclus and Achilles had sometimes wondered aloud how Chiron would react to their relationship - if he would be unsettled, if he would ignore it, or perhaps a slight chance he would even encourage it. There was no way to tell with him, since Chiron was, despite his kindness, not the easiest to open up to.
Yet here was Achilles, shaken up by how his closest companion looked so pale and wouldn't stop shivering, on the verge of letting the cat out of the bag before really consulting Patroclus.
Then Chiron again put a hand on his shoulder. His expression was not as harsh at the edges. "Achilles. I do not need to know the reasons, and I will not punish you."
Achilles looked up at him in surprise.
"Seeing Patroclus like this is likely punishment enough," Chiron explained. "All I need is your word that you will never do something this reckless again."
"Of course, Chiron," Achilles agreed readily.
A low groan sounded from the boy in front of him. He tsked and ran his hand through Patroclus' dampened hair without realizing he was doing it.
If Chiron noted this soft interaction, he did not say so aloud. "You can rest in here if you'd like, since Patroclus should not leave the fire," he offered.
"I'd like to," the boy replied. If Achilles noted the fondness in Chiron's eyes, he did not say so aloud.
***
When he was sure Chiron was in a deep sleep, Achilles crawled from his blankets toward Patroclus and tucked his friend into his arms. He was no longer shivering so violently; the occasional sniffle and the redness of his nose were the only indications he'd ever been in trouble. Still, Achilles was sure he'd never felt so guilty in his life.
He heard a soft, questioning hum from his companion, but Achilles gently shushed him. "Go back to sleep, little Owl," he whispered fondly. A contented hum from Patroclus and he was fast asleep again.
Achilles didn't stop stroking his lover's dark hair until the sun began to creep over the horizon, and the pulls of sleep dragged him down, down, down...